DATING FRAT BOY!WALLY WEST.

# CHRISTMAS TREE DECORATING AND CHAOS ── .✦ ( decorating trees with batboys ‘separated’! ⋆౨ৎ

a/n: I literally feel so happy genuinely now, I guess my mental health is getting better && anyways i have 64 requests to get to… i truly need to speed run through these but some I can’t do sadly 😭 so sorryy ᥫ᭡, tags: (batboys x fem!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

The king of enthusiasm: As soon as you suggest decorating the tree together, he’s all in.

“We’re going for the most extra tree Gotham has ever seen!” He wants it tall enough to touch the ceiling and glittery enough to blind someone.

He’s the guy who insists on climbing to the very top to put on the star, even though he wobbles dangerously on the ladder.

Sings Christmas songs (terribly off-key he’s also like tone deaf and beat deaf it’s a curse to hear him sing something at karaoke) while you decorate, complete with dramatic twirls and spins around the tree.

Accidentally tangles himself in the lights at least twice. “I’m fine, I’m fine! I was just… testing the durability!”

Insists on taking a million photos of you with the finished tree, calling you his “Christmas angel.”

When it’s all done, he dims the lights, wraps an arm around you, and whispers, “This might be my favorite Christmas ever.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

He pretends to be indifferent. “Decorating a tree? Sounds boring.” But the second you start, he’s invested.

He’s surprisingly good at untangling lights and getting them perfectly spaced on the tree. “What? I’ve got steady hands.”

Jason leans into more minimalistic decor deep reds, dark greens, and gold accents but he lets you take the lead. “You want glittery ornaments? Fine. But I draw the line at tinsel.” (he’s like those sad beige moms but with like dark traditional Christmas colors…)

Complains about how prickly the tree is the entire time but still helps you string popcorn garlands because he knows it makes you happy.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

He’s excited about decorating but is terrible at it. Tim tries, but he’s way better at figuring out the tech side of things (like synchronized tree lights) than actually hanging ornaments.

Spends 20 minutes untangling lights and another 20 trying to figure out why one strand isn’t working. “It’s science! There’s a method to this madness.”

He’s the type to sneak a caffeine break halfway through while you keep decorating. “What? I need fuel to focus!”

Insists on hanging some nerdy ornaments—little Batman logos, Star Wars-themed ones, or even a tiny Robin figurine.

When you get frustrated with his lack of artistic flair, he pulls you close and says, “Hey, at least I’m good company, right?”

After it’s all done, he insists on dimming the lights and turning on the synchronized tree music. “Look at that. A masterpiece.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Initially acts like it’s beneath him. “Why would I waste time decorating a tree?” But he ends up being surprisingly good at it.

Damian has an eye for symmetry, so every ornament has to be perfectly spaced. “No, that one is too close to the red one. Move it.”

If you mention that decorating the tree is a nostalgic tradition for you, he softens immediately. “Fine. But this had better be worth it.”

He refuses to wear a Christmas sweater, but you catch him smiling when you put on a ridiculous reindeer headband.

Titus gets involved, carrying around ornaments and wagging his tail, which Damian pretends to be annoyed by but secretly loves.

When the tree is finished, he stands back with his arms crossed, pretending not to care. But when you beam at him, he quietly says, “It looks… nice. I suppose this wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

(He buys like 40 ft Christmas trees for the main ball in the manor and like that’s almost impossible to decorate without professionals)

The ultimate perfectionist. He has a very clear vision for the tree, but he tries to let you take the lead. “It’s your tradition. I’ll follow your lead… mostly.”

Insists on using the tallest tree that will fit in Wayne Manor and hires a team to bring it in.

He’s all about elegant, classic decorations white lights, glass ornaments, and a tasteful tree topper. But if you want colorful lights or quirky ornaments, he’ll indulge you.

Offers to lift you up to reach the highest branches instead of letting you use a ladder. “I don’t need you breaking your neck before the gala.”

Alfred brings hot cocoa and cookies halfway through, smiling at how relaxed Bruce looks around you.

When the tree is done, he turns to you and says, “It’s perfect. Just like this moment.” Then he pulls you into a rare, heartfelt kiss under the twinkling lights.

WEIRD QUIRKS BATBOYS HAVE IN A RELATIONSHIP ── .✦

A/n: I can’t stop thinking about batboys who have gen z humor in relationships like please💔 RELEASE ME. Like imagine these fighting crime then laughing while watching TikTok on a random Sunday??

(Tags: batboys x fem!reader weird quirks)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Emotional Support Golden Retriever BF: Dick will send you a random “I love you” text with 15 heart emojis and the rainbow hearts in one line (ugh DISGUSTING 🤢) followed by “I miss you” five minutes later… even if you’re in the same room. (STUPID MILLENNIAL.)

Chaotic Selfies: He’s the type to send you selfies with the dumbest captions like, “Why am I kinda hot tho?” or “Babe, if you leave me, you’re blind.”

Random Dance Breaks: Dick will randomly break out in TikTok dances in the middle of your conversations. You’ll be arguing about what to have for dinner, and he’ll just hit this (here) saying, “Can’t be mad at this, babe.”

His Comedy Bit: Anytime you trip or stumble, Dick’s like, “Are you falling for me again?” Cue your eyeroll as he grins like he just invented comedy.

JASON TODD ── .✦

The "I Hate Everyone but You" BF: Jason sends you TikToks that scream “us” energy. Think of the “grumpy bf, sunshine gf” trope in meme form.

Trash-Talking Together: He doesn’t even pretend to like people. “He looks like wind whistles through his head,” he’ll whisper to you about someone in a coffee shop, and you’ll lose it laughing.

Petty King: He sends screenshots of your arguments back to you like, “Tell me I wasn’t right tho.” But he’ll also say, “We’re not fighting, I just think I’m funnier.”

Affection, Jason Style: If you’re cold, Jason’s like, “You should’ve brought a jacket,” then gives you his. But only after making a snarky comment like, “This makes me look good, doesn’t it?”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The “I Can’t Sleep” BF: Tim sends you memes at 3 a.m. with “this is us” captions. Then he sends another an hour later saying, “No fr, we need to sleep.”

Weird Intellectual Tangents: Tim will randomly look up from his laptop and ask, “Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or 100 duck-sized horses?” You’re too used to it at this point.

Social Media Detective: He likes your posts so fast it’s suspicious and always is the first comment with “❤️” . “How did you see that in two seconds?” you ask. He shrugs. “I have notifications on.”

Soft Nerd Energy: He makes playlists with names like “thinking about you in the Batcave” or “late-night snack runs with you.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Blunt Affection: Damian’s the type to say, “You look ridiculous,” but if anyone else says it, he’ll glare and be like, “She’s perfect.”

Random Acts of Service: He’s not into grand gestures, but suddenly your favorite snack is waiting on your desk, and he’ll just mutter, “Don’t make it a big deal.”

Reluctant Meme User: He pretends he’s too sophisticated for memes, but you’ll catch him smirking at one you sent. “It’s not that funny,” he’ll insist, but you know better.

Sass King: If you call him cute, he’ll say, “I know.” But if you ignore him for too long, he’ll sulk like, “I don’t require your attention. But also, why haven’t you looked at me in 10 minutes?”

DAMIAN WAYNE HCS WITH A MIXED RACE S/O ── .✦

a/n: this was a request by a wonderful anon tysm (here) and omg tysm I love requests like these and I want to make different hcs series like these for them and how cool it would be like “Japanese s/o x batboys” or smth yk?

(Tags: damian wayne x east asian and european mixed!Reader)

CULTURAL INTEREST ── .✦

Damian would be deeply curious about your cultural background, eager to learn about traditions, history, and languages. Expect him to ask thoughtful questions and immerse himself in understanding your mixed heritage.

He insists on trying to learn the language(s) spoken in your family and, of course, perfects pronunciation with his usual perfectionist streak.

“You said it wrong, Damian.”

“No, I didn’t. Your dialect is just different.”

He reads up on your culture’s history with the same intensity he uses to study combat techniques. He doesn’t just skim—he knows everything.

“Did you know that in (any historical period)…”, “Yes, Damian, I know.”

FOOD ADVENTURES ── .✦

He becomes obsessed with authentic cuisine. He’ll try to make it himself, often with varying results:

“This isn’t supposed to taste like charcoal…”

“Maybe because you slightly burnt it?”

He’ll accompany you to markets, sampling street food with serious fascination, though he keeps a stoic expression even if something surprises him.

“It’s good.”

“You’re sweating.”

“…It’s just warm.”

If your family cooks traditional meals, Damian will be politely intense about helping in the kitchen, wanting to learn everything. Expect him to get bossed around by your relatives, which humbles him in the best way.

PROTECTIVE IN A SUBTLE WAY ── .✦

He’s always been protective, but with you, it’s different. He knows how important family and culture are, so he’s especially careful about making sure no one disrespects you or your heritage.

“If anyone makes an ignorant comment, tell me.” He says it with calm menace, but you know he means it.

He admires the balance you strike between cultures and often finds it inspiring. He quietly considers it a strength and respects how you carry yourself in both worlds.

“You make it seem effortless.” He’ll say this when he thinks you aren’t listening.

TRADITIONAL DRESS LOVER ── .✦

Damian adores seeing you in traditional attire from both cultures. He’s quietly mesmerized but would never be too obvious about it, despite he himself being arab Chinese he definitely feels connected to you being a mixed race.

“You look beautiful.” He’ll say it under his breath, but you can see his ears turning red.

If there are festivals or cultural events, he’ll dress the part, too, wearing traditional clothes with pride, looking stoic but secretly enjoying the attention he gets standing next to you.

RESPECT FOR ELDERS ── .✦

He knows the importance of respecting elders, and while he can be standoffish, he’s surprisingly polite to your family. He’ll even tolerate the cheek-pinching and blunt questions.

“Are you feeding him enough?” one aunt asks.

“I am fully capable of feeding myself, thank you.” (He then looks to you for help.)

Your relatives might joke about how serious he is, but they appreciate how much he cares for you. He’ll earn their approval through quiet acts of service—like helping clean up or taking care of you when you’re tired.

GIFTS WITH CULTURAL MEANINGS ── .✦

Damian gives gifts that have cultural significance. He’ll research deeply before buying anything, ensuring it’s meaningful and respectful.

“I read that this symbolizes prosperity. I thought it fitting.” He says it like it’s no big deal, but you know he spent hours researching.

He memorizes proverbs or sayings from your culture and sometimes quotes them out of nowhere. It’s both impressive and endearing.

(In your language) “As the proverb goes, ‘Patience is a bitter plant, but it bears sweet fruit.’”

“Did you just… quote that to me in perfect [language]?”

“I did.”

TEA AND LATE NIGHT TALKS ── .✦

He becomes a tea connoisseur if your family drinks tea regularly, perfecting the brewing method until it rivals even your grandmother’s.

He’ll sit with you during late-night talks, pouring tea and sharing quiet moments, appreciating the calmness you bring to his otherwise intense life.

“You make everything seem quieter,” he admits one night, watching steam rise from the cup.

SUBTLE ACTS OF LOVE ── .✦

Damian isn’t overly affectionate in public, but in private, he’ll hold your hand and rest his head on your shoulder when he’s tired.

“Just for a moment,” he’ll mumble, eyes half-closed.

He appreciates the balance you bring into his life and constantly falls deeper in love with the way you combine grace, strength, and compassion.

barista (t.d.)

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You have a big, fat crush on your regular—Gotham’s very own friendly neighborhood coffee addict, Tim Drake.

A/N: Please compliment me about the banner I worked very hard on it <3 Also Happy New Year!!!

Getting a job in food service was honestly the last thing you wanted to do. You had heard enough horror stories from your friends who had taken many summer jobs unlike you. They often complained of insufferable superiors, bad working hours, and even worse pay and even though their stories of annoying Karens were extremely entertaining, you didn't think you'd be any good at handling them yourself. Unless your boss was okay with you cussing them out.

So, when your parents brought up you getting a job, you had vehemently refused. It's not like you particularly needed the money, however, they made a good point about needing to gain experience and how you were practically a rotting pile of flesh since you had begun summer break.

You couldn't argue with their points, even you knew that you needed to get back into a routine and get some fresh air. However, a job as a barista was the last thing you wanted to do.

But when your parents mentioned that you'd be working at your aunt's cafe, you were quick to change your tune. You always had a blast with her, and she'd definitely pay you well, lest she face the rath of her older sister, your mother. Plus, she often claimed that you were her favourite niece, despite not having any other but you supposed it was the thought that counted. Plus, you'd make extra money that you could use for pretty much anything.

So, now adorned in an apron, you stood behind the counter and took orders. Your aunt oversaw the pastry making and baking while you were in charge of the register and making drinks.

The thing you liked the most about your aunt's cafe was that it was a rare find for many customers. The cafe was the perfect space for people to sit in the quiet and get some work done. There was rarely ever any rush unless a big party came, however even then you were never really spread thin. You suppose you should feel bad that your aunt wasn't getting much business but she more than made up for the lack of customers with her overpriced coffee and cakes. But you would never tell her that. Besides, she made most of her profits from custom cake orders.

That's not to say that you didn't get any customers, you had very many loyal regulars that were always polite and would always strike up a conversation with you. Most of them were residents from the high-rise building above the shop so they were usually pretty wealthy and thus knew how to tip well.

And of course, the most loyal customer of them all, Gotham’s very own coffee addict; Tim Drake.

You take back your previous statement; he was definitely the thing you liked the most about the cafe.

You would have been down bad if he had just been just good looking; with blue eyes that were unusually bright and clear, like as though God cut the fabric of the afternoon sky and the clear blue ocean and made his irises with them. His pale skin and dark hair definitely made them seem even brighter.

He was so good looking that your customer-service-smile had frozen onto your face when he first entered the cafe, barely hearing his order over the thumping of your heartbeat and your brains incessant chatter trying to tell you to pay attention to what he was saying. Eventually, you had to apologize and ask him to repeat his order in your stupor, giving the excuse that you were new even though you had been there for more than 2 weeks.

He just smiled politely and told you not to worry before fishing his wallet and paying for his drink, tipping 50%. He wasn't just gorgeous but also well-mannered and sweet. You were down so catastrophically, cataclysmically bad.

The next time he came in, you learnt his name by pretending you needed to write it down on the cup and he casually commented how you didn't really do that last time. You said it was because he had been the only one in the store last time even though there was only one additional customer there. And you all were aware that you didn't bother to ask for the other customer’s name.

Tim continued to come almost every morning for the next couple of weeks and once you learnt how to actually comprehend the words coming out of his mouth instead of just listening to angelic singing every time he looked at you, you realized he was actually very interesting.

He'd always strike up a conversation with you and sometimes you'd take your lunch break and sit with him at the table while you talked. He was hilarious and intelligent and creative and the more you talked with him the more your plain attraction turned into affection before you knew it.

"I see you like Red Robin." Tim commented casually, noticing the insignia pin that you had on your apron. You glanced at the enamel pin that you had bought from a bodega on an impulse out of instinct before nodding, "Yeah, he's my favourite amongst the bats."

"Oh really? How come? Most people really prefer Nightwing, like me."

You shrugged, "I dunno, I just feel like he doesn't get enough appreciation as compared to the others. Plus, he makes the papers the least often."

"So, what? You felt bad that no one pays attention to him?"

You shook your head, clutching the screen as you typed in his order that you had already memorized. A brown sugar shaken espresso that you had convinced him to try just once, and he had immediately been hooked onto. You obviously added a couple extra shots of espresso for his caffeine addicted self.

"On the contrary, the fact that he's not seen in the paper probably means that he's getting the job done quietly and efficiently. Or maybe not. But that's just my guess. He's not bad looking either."

Tim chuckled, passing you his card, "Don't let him hear you say that; he might just swoon at the compliment."

"Well, I haven't actually seen his face, so I can't say with full certainty."

Tim lingered by the counter while you made his coffee, speaking loudly due to the absence of customers at this time. You had once mentioned that this was your least busy time; you wondered if he visited during that time, so he'd get to talk to you for longer.

You shook your head, reminding yourself not to get a big head as you pulled a double shot of espresso, quickly adding it to the shaking glass with brown sugar.

"I bet I’m better looking."

You really hadn't meant to laugh as hard as you had; you just pictured Tim Drake, with his posh posture and Gotham elite personality, sniffing at Red Robin as he tried to critique and compare looks. You were fairly sure that Red Robin was a head taller than him as well. The more you thought about it, the harder you laughed.

When you finally managed to wipe the tears from your eyes, Tim was still standing at the counter with a star-struck expression, pink beginning to paint his porcelain skin in beautiful blooms. You bit your lip, smiling in apology. He must have been quite embarrassed at your boisterous laughter.

"S-Sorry, you caught me off-guard." You explained, still giving him a sheepish smile as you grabbed a napkin and straw for him. The red had made its way up to his ears and down his neck before disappearing underneath the hoodie he was wearing.

Great, you had a crush on the guy and just laughed at the thought of him being better looking compared to a guy you had never even seen before.

"It's fine, it was meant to be a joke, so I suppose I’m flattered."

"No, I was being mean, you're definitely better looking." You teased, "If I ever meet Red Robin, I’ll definitely let him know that."

"I’ll hold it to you." He joked, grabbing his drink.

Having a crush was way more physically taxing than you had remembered it being. Every time Tim was around you, your heart slammed so sharply against your ribcage you would get breathless, and your stomach would twist into so many knots you'd find your abdomen getting sore.

You'd grow visibly excited when it was around the time for him to enter the store, making sure everyone else's orders were fulfilled so that you could give him as much of your undivided attention.

After being hopelessly infatuated and pining for him for a while, you had thought that you had gotten used to the incessant butterflies flapping their fingers against the walls of your stomach. However, Tim continued to prove you wrong.

You had just finished wiping down the steam wand of the espresso machine, when the bell above the store door had jingled, telling you that you had a customer.

When your eyes landed on the man standing behind the register, you couldn't help but freeze, stomach squeezing so tightly you could feel your heart crawl up to your throat, stopping you from welcoming him inside.

Tim Drake was wearing a suit.

His hair was styled for the first time you had ever seen him; dark tresses neatly gelled away from his face aside for a couple strands that tickled his nose.

You clenched the cloth in your hands so tightly you could feel the rough fabric beginning to slightly burn your skin. A part of you wanted to collapse into a puddle on the floor, already knowing how weak your knees had gotten at the site of him adjusting his watch. Oh, you wanted to dissolve into a pile of warm syrup, and you bit your lips to hide a dopey, lovesick grin.

Another, more repressed part, wanted to grab his tie in a single fist and yank the handsome man toward you, climbing over the counter and kissing him all over until his white shirt was stained with your lip gloss, his immaculate hair was messed up by your fingers and his cologne had rubbed off on your skin instead. You forced that part of yourself into the corner because she seriously needed a time-out.

"Um, hey?"

This was the first time he had spoken, clearly noticing how you just stood awkward frozen in time. Oh god, his voice was so much more attractive than you remembered. This wasn't fair.

"H-Hi, where are you going off to so prim and proper?" You asked, pulling yourself together by pinching your thigh so painfully that you could feel a bruise beginning to form.

"Oh, I just have a meeting at work. I do most of the work from home, but I’m needed in the office today." He explained, handing you his card like clockwork and you nodded, stepping away so you could start making his drink.

"Wow, how adult." You mused, shaking the tumbler quickly before pouring it into his cup and handing it to him.

"You look good, by the way," His warm fingertips grazed against your own when you handed him the tissue and straw. You watched as a bashful smile grew on his face at your compliment, making your heart flutter like a feather floating through the wind, "Much better than Red Robin."

He rolled his eyes, small smile turning into a full-blown grin.

***

This was the first time since you had met Tim that he hadn't come to the bakery alone and thus it would be the first time in a very long time that you actually had to take the order instead of automatically input his drink order.

Unfortunately, it would also be the last time you would be taking his order. You were supposed to work at the coffee shop for the rest of the month, however you had gotten an opportunity from your professor to be a part of his research team for the next semester and he required you to begin early. Which meant that you would no longer have the time to work for your aunt.

You had yet to tell Tim, upset at the thought of not being able to see him every morning from now onwards.

You had thought long and hard about it last night after you had confirmed your participation on the research team; you didn't want it to be the last time that you spoke to Tim tomorrow, you wanted him in your life.

So, you came to the conclusion that you would finally confess to him. You didn't want to continue the pining and end up in the purgatory that is the friendzone so you figured it would be the least risky to admit your feelings to him on your last day there. If he said no, you'd no longer have to run into him again every morning. If anything, he might be relieved that his regular coffee runs wouldn't be awkward from now on.

However, there was one new detail that was going to make your plan more embarrassing—

"This is my older brother, Dick." Tim introduced and you nodded, recalling when he talked about his extremely big family. Also, there was no one in city who wasn't aware of the Gotham prince, Dick Grayson, the oldest son of billionaire Bruce Wayne. Your eyes flittered between the both of them; despite being adopted, they shared a striking resemblance to each other.

You gave him a kind smile, "It's nice to finally meet you, Tim talks about you a lot."

"Good things, I hope." He responded, ever the ray of sunshine and you found yourself turning toward him like a lone sunflower. You realized he had that effect on people, the other customers also were privy to his presence. It was almost like he had a halo shining on the top of his head. The term 'Prince of Gotham' was certainly well-earned.

"Those are state secrets." You joked, playfully winking at him and he gave you a good-natured grin.

"So, what will you be having today?"

Tim ordered his regular and Dick got a matcha along with a vegan cheese tart for 'Dami' who you assumed was Tim's youngest brother Damian.

Tim held his card out for you to pay for their drinks and you inhaled sharply, digging your heel into your other foot to strengthen your resolve.

It was now or never, (Y/N).

You shook your head, trying your best to remain nonchalant even though your stomach was taking a rollercoaster ride, and you pins began to prick at your toes from how hard you were stepping on it with your other foot.

"it's on the house."

Tim tried to protest but you shut him down, not even making any moves to try and take his card from him, only handing him his receipt with the order number on it.

"Don't let your boss find out you're handing out freebies to everyone." He teased, sliding his card back into his wallet and you dug your nails into your palm, trying not to chicken out in the last second.

"Actually, the freebies are only for the cute customers that the barista has a crush on." You replied smoothly, grabbing the filter for the espresso machine and not looking back at Tim, afraid of his reaction.

Oh god, was your voice shaking? You tried your best to remain collected on the outside even though on the inside your heart was erupting like a volcano, magma flowing through your veins and setting your entire body ablaze.

You spared a small glance at his older brother, embarrassed that he was here to witness this. A sizzling heat began to run up your neck and to your cheeks, fingers stiff as you tamped the coffee.

A chuckle brought you out of your stupor and your stomach sank. It wasn't the usual laugh that Tim had, instead a mirthless sound that made you look back up at him, only to find him staring at the receipt you had given him, now crumpled him in a tight fist.

"Glad I’m the exception then," He said through gritted teeth, "I’m gonna go."

He left without making so much as another glance at you and your cheeks coloured in humiliation when you had realized his brother had seen that whole interaction with an equal expression of shock and pity that made you quickly bite down on an ice cube to prevent any tears from lining your lashes.

You quickly made the drinks, reminding yourself that it was okay since you were never gonna see him again, keeping your customer service smile on until his brother had left the store and then some before you finally let it fall.

***

"Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?" Dick asked, placing Tim's coffee order on the console of the bat computer, already finished his matcha. The coffee had long been watered down; the ice had melted in the Gotham heat on his walk back home since Tim had just left him there at the coffee shop.

The younger brother ignored him, staring at the screen with a glare that began to get increasingly annoyed. When it became clear to him that Dick wasn't going to move from his side until he got an answer, Tim finally sighed "I’m sorry for ditching you at the coffee shop."

"Apology accepted but that's not what I meant. Why were you so mean to that poor girl? I mean if you didn't like her, you could've at least turned her down gently."

Tim scoffed, incredibly peeved, "Are you stupid? She was clearly asking you out! I've been going there for like 2 months now and she's never been so blushy and nervous before you walked in there with your stupid tall height and stupid big grin and stupid good looks!"

Dick's jaw dropped open; blue eyes wide with shock. Wasn't Timothy meant to be like the smartest and most logical one amongst them? As far as he knew he was also acknowledged by R’as Al Ghul himself as a remarkable detective. Hell, he had discovered the dark knight's secret identity when he was nine.

And yet—

"Are you fucking stupid? She wasn't asking me out! That cute little flirty compliment was clearly directed at you!"

Tim still looked upset, though Dick could clearly see that he was beginning to doubt his conclusions. Thank goodness, he didn't inherit Bruce’s or his brother's stubbornness.

"So, you like her but thought she was hitting on me, so you got all emo?" Dick deftly deduced, watching as an embarrassed rash spread across his pale skin, "Dude, you really hurt her feelings. I think she was about to cry when you walked out like that."

You had really tried to look like Tim's exit hadn't affected you and to an untrained eye it probably would've looked like that, but Dick noticed how you were chewing down on your bottom lip til it bled just to prevent from crying.

Tim's eyes now raised to him, now completely uncertain with a touch of guilt and Dick sighed.

He wasn't the son of the greatest detective for nothing, but it wouldn't take years of training to know what a lovesick boy looked like. He had found out that Tim had been visiting this particular coffee shop every day at the same time when he flat out refused to have Alfred’s French press in favour of driving across town to the penthouse, he'd sometimes sleep in just to get coffee.

Tim would never refuse Alfred’s French press unless he was unconscious. Or dead.

Which lead Dick to do some sleuthing.

Didn't take any effort to check his credit card statement and find out that he had been visiting this particular store every single day. Which is really the reason that Dick tagged along that day, to meet the girl who had so clearly captured his little brother's attention.

He was honestly giddy when he realized that you were shooting your shot right in front of him. Oh, he could see the wedding happening before his eyes already, where he would very obviously make his groomsman speech, telling the crowd how he had been there the day you finally became a couple.

But Tim merely crushed up the paper receipt in his hand before storming out and he was left alone in the coffee shop, having to watch as Tim's future wife kept her gaze anchored to the floor while she tried to make the coffee that she had just given them for free. He left a fifty in the tip jar right then.

This would not be the last time that his brother would do something stupid throughout the duration of your relationship. He supposed you might have dodged a bullet due to the misunderstanding but Dick was biased toward his brother and so he felt obligated to try and get you both together.

"Are you sure?"

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, "Tim, she didn't even speak to me after you left because she was so upset that the guy she had a crush on brutally turned her down."

His eyes narrowed still, "Are you sure?"

This time Dick had had it. He grabbed Tim's ear, unaffected by his shouts of pain and curses at him as he dragged him toward the elevator, "Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you go back to that coffee shop, apologize for being a jackass and ask her out. And you better take her to a fancy ass restaurant on your first date to make up for this mess."

"Okay! Okay!" Tim conceded, finally ripping his brother's hand from his ear and he crossed his arms, "You know, this wouldn't have even happened if you hadn't been a nosy ass and followed me to the coffee shop."

"This wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot either."

***

Tim had been silent during the patrol and while he wasn't the most talkative, it was unlike him to be this quiet. They were already an hour into the patrol and batman had yet to hear this voice of his son over the comms, but he didn't ask about it. He'd inquire about his son's personal life after patrol when he was back to being his parent and not his partner.

Something was definitely off however, since even Nightwing was more on the quiet side of the spectrum that night, which was extremely out of the ordinary.

It all had to do with what happened right before patrol--

Tim really hoped that Jason wouldn't kill him for stealing one of his motorcycles that he left at the manor but honestly it was the fastest way for him to get to the coffee shop without getting stuck in Gotham traffic. And really if Jason didn't want anyone to be using his motorcycle, he really shouldn't have left it in the garage with the keys there for anybody to take. Hadn't he learnt his lesson after Damian had tried to take one of Bruce’s cars?

Even though there were still a couple of hours for closing time, when Tim entered the store, you were nowhere to be found. Hearing the bell, your aunt had answered from the kitchen instead, telling him that she'd be right there in a moment.

When she finally emerged, wiping her hands on her apron, she stopped, recognizing Tim as a regular but he could tell that she didn't really know anything about him or even his name, "What can I get you?"

He angled his neck, trying to see if someone was in the kitchen but when he couldn't spot anything he turned back to your aunt who waited patiently, "Um, is (Y/N) not here?"

"Ah," She shook her head, "Since it was her last day working here, I let her go early."

Oh, Tim really should've had his coffee today because the caffeine withdrawal was starting to make him hear things. He could've sworn he just heard your aunt say that it was your last day working at the coffee shop.

"Last day? What do you mean?"

Tim returned to the Batcave just in time for patrol, shoulders hunched over and a pitiful frown on his face that had answered Nightwing’s question before he could even ask how it went. He didn't say anything else, just walking over to the change rooms without so much as a glance to his father or younger brother.

Understandably, your aunt refused to give your phone number to Tim considering she had no idea of your relationship with him. If there was any relationship anymore. You clearly had every intention to not be in his life anymore if he had turned you down, explaining why you decided to confess on your last day.

He had asked your aunt to pass his number to you but there was no telling whether she actually would or if you would call him even if she did.

And in retrospect it would be fairly easy for him to find your number or address or which university you went to, but how was he meant to explain how he coincidentally managed to run into you before explaining the misunderstanding and confessing his feelings?

His mind was wracked with questions, and he continued to beat himself up for thinking that you had been flirting with Dick in the first place. If he hadn't been such an idiot, he could've avoided this whole mess and could've avoided upsetting you.

Now even if he managed to find you, there was always a possibility that his reaction managed to turn you off and change your mind.

"Woah Timmy isn't that the girl you like?"

Dick's voice cut across the unusual silence for that night, ringing in his ears so suddenly that for a second, he didn't even register what he had said.

However, when he did, it was almost comical the way his head lurched up like a meercat, spotting Nightwing’s figure a couple of buildings away and immediately grappling toward him, nearly throwing himself off the side of the terrace trying to spot you.

You stepped out of Gotham university, hands clutching a binder to your chest. Tim wasn't sure what had his heart beating faster—the sight of your frost-bitten nose, tinged red from the cold—or that you weren't alone.

You were laughing with a man who, much to Tim’s dismay, was undeniably good-looking and wearing a lab coat, which meant he was clearly smart and shared your interests and oh you both were going to get married, and he was going to be alone and coffeeless for the rest of his life.

"What are they saying?!" Tim leant over the edge of the roof like a right fool.

"This is beginning to get creepy, baby bird." Dick commented from behind him, but all Tim could tell him was to shut up because he couldn't hear just what had you giggling so animatedly.

"it's great that undergrads get a chance to be on a research team; I know it might not seem like much but it's gonna look great on your resume, (Y/N)."

You narrowed your eyes teasingly, "You're just saying that because you're relieved someone is gonna be doing the literature review and wash your empty beakers."

The junior assistant, a postgrad student was in charge of showing you around the lab and giving you a list of your responsibilities. Since it was short notice, you were going to have to learn the ropes quite quickly so as to look competent to the other professors.

He laughed, patting your shoulder and you could've sworn you heard a sound similar to a bird shrieking from above you, "You caught me there. But you'll get your name on your first research paper so that's there."

"I am but a modern-day Cinderella." You grinned, walking with him til he reached his car. He sat in the driver's seat, not yet closing the door when he called out for you just as you were beginning to walk away, "Are you sure you don't want a ride home?"

You smiled but shook your head, "No, thank you, maybe next time."

You watched him pull out of the parking space before driving away, wondering whether you should wait for the bus or just take a cab back home. The next bus wasn't for another 25 minutes, and you didn't want to wait around in the dark, however, a cab would be four times the amount you'd spend using the bus.

You suppose you could've called your father and asked him to pick you up from the university, but he had just gotten home from work, and you would hate to ask him to have to come and get you.

You sighed and muttered underneath your breath, "I should've just asked him to take me home." before beginning your trudge home. A part of you was scolding yourself for taking possibly the most dangerous route home but the other part reminded yourself that it was unlikely for anything to happen.

Besides, you had seen Nightwing patrol the area earlier that night and it was way too early for the bats to turn in for the night. With any luck, he was still roaming around here.

***

Looking back, taking a shortcut through an alleyway wasn't the smartest plan you had ever made. However, you were lucky enough because it seemed like the bats had been watching over you for the night; you didn't even have the chance to get mugged before Red Robin has scared off your potential attackers. You hadn't even noticed them creeping up behind you.

You simply stared at him, starstruck. It was the first time you had ever come into contact with the Gotham cryptids and you had least expected an encounter with the most elusive of them, Red Robin.

You had known he had black hair but through a screen it had really looked more like oily snakes that had further cemented your belief that they were demons.

But up close, his hair was soft and silky, he smelt of sweat and grime but with a slight tinge of cologne hidden underneath. You continued to stare at him, feeling like you could tattoo the sight of him onto your retinas.

"Um," You began, not sure how to even begin the conversation. Should you thank him for saving your life? Or apologize for being an inconvenience. Instead, you found yourself following his gaze to the lapel of your lab coat, only to find him staring at the Red Robin insignia pinned there. It was then you had been reminded of the same interaction with Tim Drake.

"Just so you know, you're way better looking than Tim Drake."

You were in slight awe of Red Robin and also still heartbroken over Tim Drake's scorn earlier that day, so you felt the need to settle the score with him even though it would clearly never make its way back to him.

Afterall what were the chances that the vigilante Red Robin knew the trust fund baby Tim Drake? They didn't exactly run in the same circles.

The masked man just stared at you in surprise, quite frozen after your declaration and honestly you couldn't blame him. He had just saved your life and instead of thanking him you began complimenting his good looks while at the same time insulting a completely random man, when really you had no business doing because you didn't really know what he looked like.

Though the more you stared at his face, finding your eyes drawing lines down the same jawline, cupid's bow, and nose bridge, you couldn't help but find similarities between the man you had just compared him to—

You physically shook the thought out of your head.

"Okay, then," You finished, finally turning around to walk away from him, having had enough of standing awkwardly in the middle of the alley, "Thank you agai—!"

"(Y/N), wait!" His gloved fingers clasped around your wrist, and you cut yourself off abruptly, staring up at him in surprise. It seemed his response had surprised him as well, considering the way he continued to stare at you. You couldn't really see his wide-eyed gaze due to the domino, but you could tell from the slight gap of his mouth and the raised brow.

Your lashes fluttered as you lowered your eyes to the hand still around your own, his voice echoing through your head. He had a modulator but this close to him it felt like you could hear the voice underneath it. His voice was crisper, cleaner and lighter underneath the automated depth, you could hear it just slightly through the syllables of your name.

You looked back at the whites of his mask, "How did you know my name?"

You weren't accusing him of anything, at least he didn't think so, not from your voice. You sounded genuinely curious and your eyes ping-ponged over his features, trying to find something. Then he noticed the ways they slightly narrowed before you whispered, "Tim?"

His jaw went slack, eyes going so comically wide now that you had just known you knocked the hammer right on the head. He took a step back, finally releasing your hand and you cupped your gaping mouth, in shock yourself.

"Wait seriously?! I was just guessing! Why on earth would you make it so obvious!" You chastised.

"I’m sorry, ok?! I didn't have any coffee today and so my brain isn't braining today!"

You crossed your arms over your chest, "And who's fault is that? You're the one who stormed out of the cafe after rejecting me—after I literally gave your drinks for free!"

Red Robin—Tim winced, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze fluttered guiltily away from yours, "That was...not my best moment."

"Not your best moment? You acted like I spat on your whole family and condemned you to death!" Okay perhaps you were being a tad bit dramatic, but it had been an extremely long day, and you kept being presented with new information which was a lot to take.

You were just a girl, for god's sake!

"Ok, in my defense, I thought you were confessing to my brother—not me! So, if anything, I was upset that you might like my family a little too much!" He retaliated and you gaped at him, incredulous.

"You are just—wow, unbelievable." You finally breathed. Truthfully, you didn't know what to even do now, something told you that you weren't going to be able to walk home completely unharmed. Since you knew his identity, the worst that could happen was that one of his bat friends was hanging over you to put you out of your misery. Best case scenario, you'd sign an NDA and be on your merry way home.

"I’m sorry, (Y/N). This is all my fault, I was being an idiot earlier and I got insecure cuz I thought you were asking out my brother which stung cuz I’ve been crushing on you for like months now." He finally admitted, holding his gaze low.

If you hadn’t been deafened by the sound of your heart pounding wildly in your chest at his confession, you would’ve given him a hard time about how nervous he seemed—just as you had been before he so brutally turned you down.

"You like me?" Your question, simple as it was, still managed to make Tim's heartrate escalate.

"Yes—I mean, of course—How could I not?"

You blushed, a gleeful response already on the tip of your tongue. Well, you would have, if you hadn’t suddenly been shrouded in a bat-shaped shadow that had you instinctively pressing yourself closer to Tim.

"Oh, I’m so dead." Tim muttered under his breath the second he had caught the figure of his father standing atop a building, having heard everything over the comms.

Your eyes widened and you stepped closer to him, a hand tightening around the utility belt strapped to his chest. You had remembered the rumours of what had happened to the second robin.

Tim's attention was snapped back to you the second he heard your sharp intake of breath, "N-Not literally, really (Y/N). I’m probably just gonna get grounded."

That got you to loosen your grip with a relieved sigh, relaxing and letting go.

"Grounded? As in Red Robin is grounded. Or Tim Drake?"

"Probably Tim Drake, Red Robin is still needed in the field. Maybe both." He admitted with a wince, and you have him a gentle pat on the chest that was meant to be a kind of 'there, there'. He gave you a small smile, gloved fingers holding the hand to his chest.

"I suppose our first date will have to wait, huh?"

Tim would be lying if a part of him hadn't kind of expected you to rethink everything. I mean, he had been so mean to you when turning you down after jumping to wild conclusions at no fault of your own. Then there was also his secret that he had been stupid enough to reveal to you.

You didn't deserve this; you deserved much better.

Still these thoughts were extremely fleeting, easily overthrown by his feeling of giddiness and outright joy, a blinding grin taking over his face.

"I guess so. I'll make it up to you, though—Dinner's on me."

You scoffed, "It better be, I’m standing in an alley 15 minutes past curfew with the identity of one of the illusive bats all because you thought I had a thing for your brother."

If his cheeks weren't already bitten from the cold, you would have watched as they went aflame, "I was young and stupid."

"It was this morning!"

"I was eight hours younger."

***

Forever Taglist:

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@eloriis

period madness

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - it's that time of the month and they have...interesting...ways of dealing with it

warnings - none

a/n - I've done this with the live action Straw Hats so i wanted to do this with their anime versions too, plus the ones who aren't in the LA yet

ZORO

Zoro jerked awake to the sound of pots crashing and clanging in the kitchen. He was unaccustomed to that, because Sanji never let anyone in the kitchen but himself. That and the aggressive sounds were usually only caused by him and then cook during their arguments. So when he got up to investigate, he was not prepared for the sight before him.

You were throwing pots and pans at the cook, who was barely able to dodge your pinpoint accuracy. He was holding his hands up and shaking them, saying, "No, no, no darling!" or slipping into panicked French.

The swordsman found it difficult to hold back his laughter and ended up chortling, catching yours and the cook's attention.

"What are YOU laughing at?" You glared daggers at him, chucking one of the pots at him. It hit him smack in the head, and he glared at you before seeing the look on your face.

He had never been more terrified.

"You're both idiots," you grumbled, rubbing your uterus before storming out of the kitchen. Sanji sighed in relief, before you called out behind you, "I want another one!" He jumped and ran around the kitchen, desperately making something - whatever you'd asked for.

"What's wrong with her?" Zoro gruffly asked the cook.

"She's on her period," Nami walked past, beaming and looking unusually happy.

Zoro vaguely knew what a period was. He didn't quite know how it worked, but he knew that women became oddly aggressive and emotional during their week. He didn't know about the blood, though, until he walked into your room after you and saw red staining your clothes.

"What happened?!"

You jumped and turned around, "Zoro! Don't do that!" Then you groaned, doubling over in pain.

Over the next couple of days, the swordsman learned just what a period entailed. Very drastic, rapid mood changes, intense cravings and debilitating pain. He once claimed you were being dramatic, but that was the last time. He shivered at the memory.

He became more helpful once he fully understood what was going on with you. Threatening Sanji to make whatever you were craving for, bringing it to you, rubbing your uterus. That he could handle. Your mood swings, alas, were his undoing.

"I'm tired. Can I nap now?"

"No one asked you to do my chores," you grumbled.

He glared at you, "A thank you would be nice."

"Mhm."

He grumbled and crossed his arms, muttering something about your attitude.

"What?" Your nostrils flared.

That dangerous look on your face came again, and Zoro froze up.

"Nothing."

"Better be. Remember what happened yesterday?"

He flinched. The swordsman flinched. He didn't want to be reminded of your wrath, much less experience it again. It had been traumatic enough the first time.

Thankfully, you were much more docile when he was cuddling you after you had changed and gotten comfortable.

ACE

You weren't at breakfast one morning. Which was odd, because you were usually always there before him, saving him a spot because he was the one sleeping in.

"Where's (Name)?" He asked the other crewmembers, all of them shrugging because no one actually knew.

This was his sign to check your room. If you hadn't come to greet him and he hadn't seen you all morning, you were most likely still sleeping. Which almost never happened, since you liked to get up early and get a jumpstart on your chores around the ship.

He carefully pushed open the door to your room, and there you were. Curled up in your bed, whimpering and moaning in what sounded like pain. Immediately he grew worried, and rushed over to you.

"What's wrong??" He crouched beside the bed, trying to get you to look at him.

"Cramps," was all that you could say before another bout of pain hit you and had you changing positions. Nothing was comfortable, and you'd tried everything. "Hurts."

He frowned, but knew exactly what to do. Sure, maybe he'd forgotten that you started your period today, but he'd had enough experience with it to know what to do. He climbed onto the bed nd laid behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you. Heating his body just enough to soothe you, his hand settled over your uterus and started rubbing in comforting, slow circles. When he felt your body slowly relax, he knew it was working.

"Mhm," you hummed, sighing in relief, "Much better. Thanks, Ace."

"Anything for you," he grinned, burying his face in your neck. He continued rubbing slowly and soothingly, also enioying the closeness and intimacy that this brought. "I'll get you some chocolate later, okay?"

You managed a small laugh, "You know Thatch is not going to let you into the kitchen. You're practically banned."

"I stole ONE cake, one!" He protested. "And it wasn't even a big one!"

You laughed again, shaking your head in amused dismay, "You know you stole more than that. He knows you sneak in almost every night."

"Is that why the fridge is now locked?"

"Mhmmm," you turned your head slightly, "But it's a sweet offer."

"No, I will get you that chocolate," he insisted, making you laugh. "I will fight Thatch if I have to."

"Or," you started to suggest, "We could stop at the island that's coming up and buy our own?"

"Nah, too late," he nuzzled his face against your neck, "I went to get it for you now."

"You're too sweet to me," you sighed contently, your entire body melting under his touch, the pain dulling to a bearable ache. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"You love me," he murmured into your neck. "That's enough."

When you were sleeping, the second division commander gently disentangled himself from you and snuck off to get your chocolate. The next day, you woke up to the sweet treat on your bedside table, and a note saying that both Thatch and Ace were in the infirmary. Sighing, you got up to go see your idiot boyfriend, but a smile on your face told you that you weren't mad at him.

You could never be. He handled your mood swings like a pro, never once losing his temper. He got you whatever you craved, no complaints. And when you were in pain, he was more than happy to become your personal heater.

Every single period, he treated you with the utmost gentleness, and a patience that no one knew he had.

SANJI

Your cravings are almost impossible to deal with. If he wasn't such a great cook, Sanji might have cracked under the pressure. Every hour was something new, something strange. But whatever you want, you get.

You stumbled into the kitchen a few hours later, wondering where your food was. Only to see your boyfriend trying to fend off your captain who was trying to steal it.

"Give it to him," you grumbled, "I'll just make it myself."

Sanji's eyes widened in panic as he watched you move around the kitchen, starting to prepare the dish. He finally kicked Luffy away and rushed towards.you, dropping onto his knees before you and holding up the dish.

"No, no, no, my love! Here you go!"

You crossed your arms, "Do you think I am incapable of making my own meal?"

"No, not at all!" He shook his head frantically, his panic rising. "I just don't want you to do any unnecessary work while.you're in so much, when I am here to do it for you!"

On any other day, you might have melted and kissed him on the cheek. Today, however, that comment just pissed you off.

"So you think I'm too weak to handle a bit of pain?"

The cook was going to pass out at this rate, "No, no, no! I just don't want-"

"Because I'm a woman, is that it?"

His face kept getting paler and paler, "My love-"

"No, forget it," your mood flipped, tears brimming in your eyes. "I'm not hungry anymore." You turned on your heel and left the kitchen, and Sanji's heart sunk.

If he hated anything more than you crying, it was you crying because of him.

He got to work preparing several of your favourite dishes, mentally cursing the captain for this whole debacle. It didn't take him long, because he was also desperate and panicky, his urge to comfort you growing stronger by the second. The minute he was done he was walking to your room with all the dishes in a tray, and knocking on your door.

"Go away."

"But darling, I have your food-"

The door swung open, and once again your mood had switched and you were smiling at him like nothing had happened. You let him in, peppering his face with kisses as you immediately started to eat, leaving him with hearts in his eyes.

But also a little terrified.

After you had finished eating, he cuddled you and let you fall asleep on him. He was afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing again so he just held you, letting you guide his hand to rub your uterus soothingly.

He was a little panicky, but he always took care of you during this frustrating week.

LUFFY

He's practically immune to your emotional outbursts. He does get them from everyone on the crew almost everyday, after all. So the mood swings he can handle, he just laughs it off and hugs you or cuddles you or offers to give you extra kisses.

It's the cravings part that he has an issue with.

Luffy and food go hand-in-hand, everyone knows this. If he even so much as spots something to eat, he will gobble it down within seconds. That's why Sanji has a lock on the fridge and chains on all the cabinets, because your boyfriend cannot stop himself from eating the ship's entire food supply.

And more often than not, he will end up fighting with you about it whenever you're on your period, because he thinks it's unfair that you get more food.

"Luffy, stop bothering (Name)!" Sanji smacked his hand away from your food.

The captain pouted, "Why does she get more food?"

You glared at your clueless boyfriend, the temptation to smack him growing stronger by the second, "Luffy, you try ble-" The rest of your explanation was muffled by Nami's hand.

Luffy pouted even more as he watched you eat, confused about why you were looking at him like you wanted to eat him.

When you were done, you got up and walked away without even asking him to come with you. This was even more weird for him, and so he followed you on his own.

"(Name), what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just tired," you replied, but he knew you so well that he could tell you were lying as you sat down on your bed.

"Did I do something?" He came to sit down beside you.

You sighed, "Yes and no. Do I look fat to you?"

His eyes widened, "No, why would you say that? Who called you fat?"

"Me."

He frowned at your words, "Why would you call yourself fat?"

"Because you're always complaining about me eating more on my period and it makes me feel like I am!" You snapped, teetering on the edge of a breakdown.

"I'm sorry," he apologised quietly, sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that."

"I know, but Luffy..." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, "You have to understand. Women go through a lot on their period, okay? We eat more, we cry more, we snap more, everything we do is increased. So is our pain. It's just something that happens every month."

"You're in pain?" He asked worriedly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

I've told you many, many times, you refrained from saying, instead sighing, "Just...please be a bit more mindful, okay?"

He nodded, wrapping his arms around you, "I promise."

He really did try. The next day he even sat you on his lap just to hold you while you ate, and even though it looked like it was difficult for him, he stopped himself from commenting. He even started bringing you food, doing anything he could to be better and actually help you through your torturous week.

KAKU

He's not stupid. He's been around you and Khalifa long enough to know what to do and what not to and what to say and what not to say during your period.

Though he sometimes has his moments, where he forgets that you're in pain because you're so good at hiding it due to the nature of your job.

You were a day or two into your period so your cramps were really bad. But Spandam was annoying you about an assignment so you ended up snapping at him and accidentally broke his nose. Now you were suspended until further notice - although no one reprimanded you for punching him.

That's how Kaku found you, seething as you stormed through the hallways of the headquarters. He himself got a little nervous when he saw your furious look. Trained assassin or not, when you looked like that he would never dream of crossing you.

LAW

Of course, he did it unintentionally.

"What happened to you?" He asked, stopping you from storming past him.

"What do you think?" You snapped, your cramps becoming unbearably painful. You needed to get out of this interaction as quickly as possible.

"Hey, easy," he took a cautious step closer, "I'm not trying to fight."

You signed, "I know." Then you started walking away, only for him to follow you. "Kaku, not right now." Your voice came out strained, and this worried him.

"Something is wrong," he insisted.

"Wow, thanks, Captain Obvious," you rolled your eyes.

He sighed, "I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

"That's the problem!" You whirled around, "You never know what's wrong! This happens every month and you always seem to forget!"

You would later regret snapping at him like that, but your uterus was in the process of killing you so you were more than uncomfortable, and more than miserable.

A look of realisation dawned on him, and he lifted you up into his arms to carry you bridal-style to your room. Once he laid you down on the bed, he had water ready for you to drink and he lay beside you, pulling you close and enveloping you in his warmth as he soothingly rubbed where it hurt. Over the course of the last few months, he'd gotten better at helping you through the pain.

"Thanks," you mumbled, curling up against him. "I punched Spandam, by the way. Got suspended."

He laughed, "That must have been amusing."

"Mhm..."

Before you could word a proper reply, you were drifting off. This was comfortable, and his warm hand rubbing your uterus soothingly was lulling you off to sleep. He smiled softly and continued to hold you and attempt to soothe your pain as best he could.

You woke up later to find your favourite food and drink on your bedside table, and a note saying Spandam had given Kaku your assignment, which made you laugh.

Law saw the signs before you even noticed you were exhibiting them. He was a doctor, after all, but he was also your boyfriend and had memorised each symptom that you showed before getting your period. So he knew exactly when you were getting it, but he wasn't exactly the best at helping you through it.

USOPP

Especially with how angry and emotional you got. He struggled to predict your mood, and in this struggle he found that he didn't know how to properly respond to or act around you. Which led to 97% of your arguments during this time. The other 3% was you picking fights.

"(Name)-ya, you're late," he frowned when you walked into his room after breakfast.

You glared at him, "Oh I'm sorry, I was too busy dying in my bed!"

"Don't be dramatic," he sighed. "You weren't dying."

Your nostrils flared, "Excuse me?"

The look in your eyes was downright murderous. For a scary moment even he was a bit intimidated, but hes stubbornly stood his ground.

"Maybe this month the cramps are worse," you shot back, voice raising with each word. "But you wouldn't understand, you never do!" You turned and stormed out.

"You manage every other month."

He sighed, following, "(Name)-ya, wait."

"No Law," you snarled, "I'm not in the mood. Go away."

He grabbed your wrist, though not enough to hurt you, "I'm sorry."

You rolled your eyes, even more irritated by his lackluster apology, "Okay. Now can I go do my chores?"

He let go a bit awkwardly, frowning, "I can have someone do them for you."

"No, I wouldn't want to be lazy or look like I'm getting favours because I'm your girlfriend," you crossed your arms.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated, "You are in pain, no one is going to hold it against you. Can you please just go back to bed?"

"Is that an order?" You glared at him.

He glared back, "Yes."

You finally relented, storming off to your room and making a show of being irritated. Law sighed behind you, following and making sure you did actually get into bed. Then he made sure you got something hot to press against your uterus, as well as plenty of snacks and drinks to keep you satisfied.

He did come at random points during the day to check on you, which you thought was sweet. He would stand by your side awkwardly and fumble his words, but it was the thought that counted.

And over the next few days, he got better at helping you through it. He let you do your tasks but was a lot more lenient, he accepted your affection even in public, and he was a lot softer than he would usually be. Anything you asked for, you got it - eventually. It might not be right away, but he did get it for you and that was what mattered to you.

But oh, the mood swings were going to be the death of him.

Your period week scared Usopp. He made sure he memorised your cycle so that he knew when you would be a bit more...sensitive, to his words and actions. So he knew when the time came, what he shouldn't say or do around you.

The problem was that he tended to avoid you, hoping that would keep him safe from your mood swings and your violent tendencies. After last time, he was traumatised.

"(Name)?" He knocked on your room door, after hearing from Nami that you weren't up yet and it was late morning already.

"Don't come in!" You wailed, sounding miserable.

He poked his head around the door, curious as to why you didn't want him to come inside. You were rushing around the room in your underwear, making his face turn red. He tried to pull his head out, but knocked it on the door and yelped.

You whipped around, "Usopp!"

But to his surprise, you started crying instead of screaming at him. You sunk onto your bed, dropping your sheets miserably. He quickly came inside, closed the door, and sat beside you.

"What's wrong???" He asked, a bit panicky.

"There's blood everywhere!" You sobbed, "My pants got ruined, my sheets.got ruined, everything got ruined!"

"Oh..." He felt a but flustered, unsure of what to do.

"I know!" You cried, "You probably think it's disgusting." The thought had you sobbing harder, and he panicked even more when you reacted this way.

"No, no, no!" He shook his hands frantically, "You're not disgusting! Never!"

Eventually it dawned on him that he should probably get your things cleaned for you, and when he suggested it he saw you visibly relax and knew it was the right choice.

"Are you sure?" You mumbled, bottom lip trembling.

"I'm sure," he nodded, picking up your things. "Just relax, I'll go get you some (favourite food), and be back just now."

He did just that, ensuring you got into comfortable, warm clothes and then bringing you warm food and warm drinks any time you asked him to. You laid on your bed and asked him to tell you stories, which often succeeded in making you laugh.

He was more than happy to oblige.

—LO۷ESTⱤUCK F𐌀N

contents damian wayne x fem!reader, youtuber!reader au, fluff, 2k+ wc. synopsis now that you've started accepting fan mail, damian jumps at the chance to send you something (though, honestly, he’d send himself if he could). pt 2 of "unexpected crush!?" (@liabiamiakiawia hope you like it 🫶🏻)

No. Freaking. Way.

Was this a dream? A hallucination? Some cruel trick of the mind?

There was no way she actually posted her address. But as he blinked at the screen, rereading the words for the hundredth time, the reality hit him like a Batarang to the chest:

"Accepting fan gifts/letters! Address & city number: xxxxx. Can't wait to see what my luvies gift me :)"

His heart stopped. Then restarted at double the speed.

He. Was. Ecstatic.

Well—ecstatic in a very Damian Wayne, son of an assassin and the Dark Knight, kind of way.

A normal person might be pacing, grinning, maybe even screaming into a pillow. But Damian? He just sat there, staring at the screen, his grip tightening on his phone as his brain raced a thousand miles per second.

This was huge. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The only chance he’d ever have to send her something, something meaningful—something that would make her smile.

Immediately, he started skimming through her videos, mind buzzing with possibilities. What did she like? What did she need? What could he give her that would stand out from the rest?

Something perfect. It had to be perfect.

After intense (possibly obsessive) research, he finally settled on three things:

1. A Beauty of Joseon skincare set—not that a face as flawless as hers needed skincare. If anything, the skincare needed her.

2. A cute hairclip set—he remembered her gushing over some in a video. Hers were old, but she hated overconsumption, always mindful of her brand collaborations (another thing about her that made his heart do weird things: her caringness for the planet).

3. Some top-tier Chinese makeup—only the best for her.

His lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he saw the total.Just a casual $1K. Nothing much for a Wayne.

Then again… if she asked, he'd get her the moon and stars. Nothing was ever too much for her. Ever.

By the time he finalized his list, it was nearly noon. And by the time he finished hunting everything down in-store, it was noon.

Now, back in his room, Damian sat cross-legged on his floor, staring at the disaster zone of wrapping paper around him.

He exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling up as he crumpled yet another piece of pink wrapping paper—now a casualty of way too much tape—and chucked it aside.

This was so new to him. He barely ever gave gifts, and even when he did, Alfred was the one who wrapped them.

With a sigh, Damian pulled out his phone and searched, How to wrap gifts (EASY and pretty).

Following the tutorial with painstaking precision, his thoughts started to wander.

It wasn’t like he was an idiot. After a full week of stubborn denial, he’d finally accepted it—he had a crush. A real, actual crush on a girl he’d never even met.

And honestly? That annoyed him. Apparently, there was some illness where people obsessed over their favorite celebrities or internet personalities.

But he wasn’t sick! Sure, there were plenty of things wrong with him—a packaged deal that came with being the son of his parents—but this? This wasn’t an obsession. And he was definitely not a stalker.

He just... really liked this girl.

Pausing mid-task, he set down the half-wrapped package and reached for a pen and paper.

"Dear ___,My name is Damian Wayne. I'm a teen from Gotham..."

Hours passed—writing, re-writing, crumpling papers, fixing the bow on the package that would soon be crossing oceans.

Finally, Damian collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He sighed.

Please let this work.

Sitting up, he picked up the now perfectly wrapped gift box, his fingers absentmindedly tracing along the frilly bow.

And then, without thinking, he brought the box to his lips, pressing a light kiss against it.

Oh. Oh.

A wave of déjà vu hit him— reminding him of the air-kiss he tried to catch through his laptop screen a week prior.

For a second, he just sat there, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips before he scoffed softly at himself.

Damian Wayne had officially lost. He liked her. Like liked her.

And now, all he could do was hope—pray—that this box, this dumb little package of gifts, would somehow, someway, connect them.

Maybe. Just maybe. Something real would come out of this stupid crush.

"Tch… emotions suck."

He laughed under his breath, though there was no real bite to his words.

Setting the package on his bedside table, he turned off the light and crawled into bed.

Tomorrow, he’d send it.

And then? He’d wait.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

© — ggυɱi '25

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ

so.. hot take fix idea..

fire lord zuko would totally try to fuck you anywhere.. i mean, who’d stop him? from the garden balconies to the throne room or even dining room and study.. it’s very evident that he loves you to everyone around and isn’t afraid to let anyone else know it either.

MINORS DNI 18+

"Zuko," you chide under your breath, shying away from ZUKO's lips that brush the sensitive skin of your neck. "Compose yourself." you hushed instruction is paid no heed as he presses himself into your back, pinning you between the railing and his body.

His lowered voice washes warm breath over your ear, sending chills down your spine, "How can I? I can't keep my hands off you." It's in poor taste for the Fire Lord to express such ardent desire so publicly, the balcony overlooking the balcony is hardly the most inconspicuous place to do it. Even through his layers of robing, you can feel a familiar prodding, and you gasp when his teeth bite into your flesh to distract you. "No one's around." he expresses as if it's encouragement instead of a thinly veiled ploy. It's part of the thrill for him.

The official dressings you wear are inaccessible, you're unsure of how he'll proceed without baring you entirely for the world to see. When his hands grab at the fabrics, bunching them up to inch them higher you reach back to catch him. "Zuko!" you whisper indignantly, glancing at him from over your shoulder. He leans in, furthering you over the balcony from his weight as he steals a grinning kiss from you.

"A quick one, my love. If anyone so much as looks in your direction I'll skin them alive." The barbaric threat is entirely to make you dissolve into giggles as a distraction, moving aside the expensive silks so he can get at what he knows is waiting for him underneath.

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚘𝚑, 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚠…

⤷ mha x f!reader (use of she/her pronouns, fem. relationship labels)

⭑ number-one hero deku, sitting on the couch across from his girlfriend in his pajamas, applying matching green face masks and giggling at the mess they’re making

⭑ cold and formidable pro-hero shoto, cross-legged on the wood-paneled floor with his wife as they share a bottle of wine, despite the large vacant table and long vacant counter, laughing quietly about the most recent scandal at work

⭑ great explosion murder god dynamight, begging for mercy as his fiancée sits atop his chest grinning triumphantly and tickling him without remorse, his eyes watering and lungs burning because she knows exactly the spot that makes him unravel 

⭑ fashion icon pinky, known for her model-worthy looks, bundled up in blankets and stolen hoodies and mismatched socks and sweatpants with her girlfriend as the two of them binge-watch all five seasons of riverdale 

⭑ charming and dashing hero chargebolt, sitting in front of the tv at seven am, sharing a blanket with his fiancée and watching cartoons and eating cereal because neither of them wanted to cook and definitely not resembling two responsible adults whose wedding is in two months

⭑ the ever cool and composed ingenium absolutely losing his shit because his wife was unaware that the dominos pasta containers are aluminum and cannot go in the microwave, as they found out the hard way, the pair now staring at a crispy microwave and charred countertop

⭑ sweet and kind uravity who becomes an absolute menace when up against her girlfriend at mario kart because they agreed the loser would do the dishes and she refuses to even touch that mountain of plates after tamale night 

⭑ the manliest of all heroes, red riot, who swears there is no manlier thing than going for drive-thru at one in the morning with his fiancée in the passenger seat because they had a fry craving

dividers by @/cafekitsune

Can you do a smau where the mha boys are clingy and needy of attention? 💘

🍓 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 attention please

texts with the bnha guys; fem! reader (aged up) characters included: katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, tenya iida, eijirou kirishima, denki kaminari.

! they want attention

warnings: sfw, fluff, angst-ish in todorokis part

will you hold me instead, and tell me that it's over now?

i look forward to a little me and you, so now i hope that you don't tell me that it's over

or; patching jason up after an intense mission [2.1k]

jason todd x fem!reader; angst/fluff; brief mentions of human trafficking and allusion to murder (he's talking about how the mission went); mention of his scars; jason being insecure & thinking he's not good enough😞; description of injuries and the first aid applied to them (please do not take anything as actual medical advice); this is me hard-launching my physical touch x touch starved!jason agenda

You don’t know how early it is when you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, just that it’s too early. It’s not like you could sleep anyway; you spent the night drifting in and out of semi-consciousness, too worried to let yourself relax. You always got like this when Jason went away on missions. Several days, and sometimes even weeks, spent anxiously anticipating the state in which he would return home—you haven’t been able to get a manicure since before you met him.

You’re still a little delirious when a hand ghosts up your arm, stirring you from your half-sleep. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room and register the sight in front of you. Your boyfriend is on one knee on the floor in front of you, brushing strands of hair out of your face with endearing eyes.

“There she is,” he says when you lift your head off the pillow and reach out to him. He catches your hand and kisses your fingertips, spreading a warmth up your arm that combats the midnight chill. You push yourself up to a sitting position, and he takes the opportunity to cup his hands around your face and bring you in for a kiss.

“Missed you,” you mumble against him, and his lips curve upwards against yours.

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” His mouth travels up from yours towards your temple, leaving a path of gentle kisses in his wake. Your palms, pressed flat against his chest, slide up to loop around his neck. He tenses, choking back a strained grunt. But you catch it.

You pull back abruptly. “Are you hurt?” Your eyes frantically dart around, scanning his entire body. Now fully alert, you reach over to the bedside table and switch the lamp on.

“’s just a bruise, baby, I’m fine.” A hand comes up to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. But with newly unobstructed vision, you can see more than just a bruise. He has a busted lip, a shallow gash on his temple, and splotches of purple and red peeking out of his shirt collar.

“You’re bleeding, Jason,” you chastise him, getting up off the bed.

He stands alongside you with a huff. “It’s nothing,” he sighs. “Doesn’t even hurt.” But when you take his hand and start pulling him to the bathroom, he follows without argument. You lead Jason to sit down on the edge of the tub and fetch the first aid kit from under the sink, setting it down next to him on the bathtub ledge. You stand between his legs, your positions making you a half-head taller than him. He gazes up at you and for the first time tonight you notice how dark and deep the skin under his eyes is.

“Off,” you order, dragging up the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it off, wincing when it requires him to lift his bruised arm.

“Someone’s eager,” he muses, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner. It earns him a swat on the arm; he grunts loudly and doubles over in pain.

You gasp. “Oh my god! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I—”

But when he looks up, it’s with a coy smirk and a twinkle in his eye. You swat him again.

“Asshole,” you mutter, but you can’t help the slight twitch at the corner of your lips. “Why didn’t you take care of this earlier? Alfred wasn’t at the manor to help you?”

He shrugs his good shoulder. “Don’t know. Came straight here.”

“Did you tell anyone where you were going?” You ask.

He looks at you blankly, as if to say, don’t you know who you’re talking to?

You sigh, exasperated. “You shouldn’t have done that, Jason. What if ended up becoming serious? And you didn’t make it here in time? What if—” 

He interrupts your doom spiral by pressing a finger to your lips. “I know, honey, I’m sorry. But I wanted to see you.”

You sigh. There’s a sadness to it, one that comes from familiarity with the fact that he does not care for himself as much as he should—as much as he deserves. But there are no words to make him believe it that you haven’t tried, so all you do is lean your forehead against his, hoping he can hear the what you don’t say. You need him to hear you.

“You’re not sorry,” you whisper.

“No, I’m not,” he whispers back.

You start with his shoulder, which was decidedly not ‘just a bruise,’ but actually several bruises, all clumped together to form one giant Franken-bruise that covered his entire shoulder. It gets rubbed with ointment and you’re not sure who it pains more, because while you’re spilling out frantic apologies as you try to speed through it, Jason is white-knuckling the edge of the tub with a wad of gauze between his teeth. 

His lip doesn’t require any medical attention, but he insists you kiss it better anyway, and who are you to deny him? 

You tend to his temple last, but he’s antsy now. His leg bounces up and down, one hand is drumming its fingers on the tub, and the other is fiddling with the loose threads that hang from the hem of your shirt; you have to scold him into sitting still.

“Where’s the dermabond?” You ask, sifting through the contents of the first aid kid.

“Used it up last month, remember? After you just had to feed that fuckin’ squirrel.” His voice is gruff at the recollection. “Should be a new pack under the sink.”

You fetch the new box, picking at the plastic wrapping. “Can you blame me? He was so cute.”

“Yeah, was. Until that greedy fucker decided he wanted the whole picnic.” Jason sees you struggling with the plastic covering and takes it from you, breaks it open, then hands it back. “Bastard.”

You giggle. “You know, you could’ve just let him have the cupcake. It wasn’t worth risking rabies for.” You fish out the glass tube of surgical glue, tossing its cardboard box aside.

“‘Course it was. My girl wanted red velvet, she should get her red velvet.” Jason’s hands finally rest on the backs of your bare thighs, squeezing them lightly. He grins when that makes you let out a little squeak.

You roll your eyes, though there’s a warmth flowing in your veins that courses from the tips of your ears to the bottom of your feet. “My hero,” you muse with a smile.

There’s a pause. Then:

“I’m not a hero,” he responds. His tone is still light, but his eyes feel far away.

You start to clean the blood from the wound, which has since clotted and dried, with a saline-soaked cotton pad. He stares at you while you clean and then close the cut with the glue. And when you finish, supplies set aside and glue cured, he’s still staring. His eyes are traveling all over your face, taking in each feature, committing every ridge, every angle, every pore, every freckle to memory. The light-hearted teasing demeanor from mere moments ago is long gone. You're a deer caught in emerald headlights.

You recognize this shift. You noticed hints of it since he arrived home, but assumed it was just due to the pain. Now it’s obvious that there’s more. It’s the same shift that comes when the news becomes a circus, or when he stares at his scars in the mirror for too long.

His hands slide up your body slowly, reverently. One stops at your waist while the other continues, blazing a trail up your ribcage, over the side of your breast. He pauses at your shoulder for a split second, squeezing the flesh every so gently before continuing up your neck. His thumb drags across your collarbone, brushing against the spot that always lights up your senses and parts your lips in a breathy sigh. He stops when he reaches your face. He cups your cheek. Your hand covers his and you lean into his hold, the stroke of your small, soft fingers juxtaposing the rough callouses of his knuckles. You stay here for a moment before turning to press your lips to his palm once, twice, thrice, four times, each one lingering a little longer than the last.

“What is it, Jason?” Your hands come to cradle his neck before dragging up to his hair, and his move to wrap around your torso and pull you closer into him. You place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Hmm?”

“I’m not a hero,” he says again, softer.

“Jay,” you whisper. “You know that’s not true.”

He says nothing, only heaving a heavy sigh and burying his face into the crook of your neck. You’re content to stand like this, to simply hold him and graze your nails against his scalp for as long as he needs while he inhales the comforting scent of your skin.

After what could have been one minute or twenty, he pulls back to look up at you. He looks exhausted. “It was a human trafficking case,” he says. “They knew we were closing in on ‘em, so we had to act fast. They were…trying to…” He trails off, unsure how to put it in words delicate enough to spare you. He breaks eye contact. “Destroy the evidence,” he finishes.

You don’t respond. Despite the heavy silence that follows this admission, you know he’s not done. It takes another several minutes of stroking fingers and feather-light hairline kisses to coax it out of him.

“There was a woman. She…we didn’t—“ His voice cracks. “I didn’t get there in time.”

“Oh, honey.” You run your palm over his forehead, pushing back his thick waves. His eyelids slide down over glassy irises as he sinks into your touch. You lean down to press your lips to his forehead. “You know that’s not your fault,” you whisper. He shakes his head, eyes still closed.

“But if I’d just—”

“No, Jason.” You grip his face between your palms. He opens his eyes at the sudden sternness. “But nothing. You did everything you possibly could—”

“You don’t know that,” he interrupts.

“I do know that. I know because you are always doing everything you can. For me, and for everyone in this city. And I know that it wasn’t just you on that mission. Do you blame anyone else for what happened?”

He says nothing, but his eyes are welling with tears.

“You saved so many other people, Jason. You are a hero, and you know that. You have to know that.” Some of his tears spill over, but you brush your thumbs across his cheeks and kiss them away.

He pulls you onto his lap so your legs are straddled over his and rests his head against your sternum. His arms squeeze impossibly tight around your waist, but you don’t say anything. When his shoulders tremble and you feel the dampness on the front of your shirt, you still don’t say anything. And when he places a hand on the back of your head to pull you in for a hard, searing kiss that leaves you both breathless, you don’t say anything. You just look at him, at how pretty he is, and hope that he can hear you.

The sounds of buzzing echo in from the next room. To your dismay, he turns away, towards the direction of your phones. “I should get that,” he says. His voice is hollow. “It’s probably the bats wanting to know where I am. They’ll send a search party if I don’t check in.”

He’s about to move you off his lap, but you stop him. “In a minute, Jay.”

Jason’s forehead crinkles. You use your thumb to smooth it out.

“Please?” You breathe out. “Just let me look at you a little longer. I love looking at you.”

He relaxes back into his seat. And you keep looking at him. At his beautifully rosy cheeks and shining eyes, his puffed lips. The scar that runs diagonally down his slightly crooked nose.

It’s dawn now; the tangerine beginnings of sunrise elicit a soft glow that spills through the window. Jason takes it all in. The two of you together in the home you share, arms around each other, your face all honeyed and beautiful in the light.

And you know he can hear you.

love when you guys leave messages/feedback it really brightens up my day<3

divider is from here