Sweaters for December

imaginexmeintheuniverse:

A lovely anon requested: Tim lost a bet and has to wear ugly christmas sweaters until Christmas.
And the reader works at the clothing store.

A lovely anon requested: Reader’s little brother (10) wants meet tim drake for his christmas
gift. Because he won a science fair and wants to be like Tim

13. Character A’s little sibling/child wants to
meet their favorite celebrity/writer/person for Christmas. Character B is said
“Christmas present” + 22. Character A loses a bet and has to wear a different
ugly Christmas sweater every day till Christmas. Character B works at a clothes
store

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader

Word Count: 793

Tags: @coltcas

Masterlist | Christmas Drabbles

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A/N: Again,
I hope it’s cool that I combined these requests because I feel weird writing
these after Christmas and there were too many requests~ 

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“Store’s
closing in ten minutes,” you shout from behind the counter.

It’s been
quite the long day for you with the pre-Christmas rush of people who actually
buy their presents early, and your boss abandoned you to take care of the store
by yourself with your most useless co-worker who is currently taking a break
when it’s time to close up of course and just now, someone comes in at the last
minute.

Great.

Rising from
where you were ducked under the counter, you bump your head on hard surface on
the way up and that’s just the sour cherry on top of an aggravating day. “Hey,
did you hear me?” You call out to the boy who’s back is to you. “I
said the store’s closing—”

The last of
your sentence fades out after he’s turned to face you and his expression is
that of a deer caught in headlights. He looks both nervous and like he’s had a
day equally as shitty as yours, but what makes you soften is that he looks
somewhat familiar— not to mention how cute he is. Bright blue eyes that
contrast his dark hair and kind looking features.

“In
ten minutes—” He approaches you, nervously running a hand through his
messy hair. “Yeah, sorry about that- it’s just- I’ve had a crappy day and
I could really use some help with something.”

“Hi, my
name is Y/N,” you smile, pointing a finger to your name tag and stretching
your other hand out to shake his.

“I’m
Tim.” Your eyes narrow as you study his features because you’re certain
you’ve seen him somewhere before.

“Tim,”
you say slowly, as though repeating his name will help you recall where you’ve
seen him. Realizing that you’re still shaking his hand, you let go and hope he
doesn’t think you’re a complete idiot. “So what can I help you with
today?”

“I
have to buy a disappointing amount of ugly Christmas sweaters.” He speaks
in a low voice, eyes darting around the store even though no one else is there.
You raise an eyebrow, wondering what a boy like him would want with the
selection of ugly Christmas sweaters and his cheeks redden, burning of
embarrassment that it had to be someone as pretty as you working when he has such
a strange request.

“Am I
allowed to ask why?”

“I-I
lost a bet with my brothers,” He visibly cringes at his own predicament.
“And now I have to wear an ugly Christmas sweater every day until
Christmas.”

You can’t
help but erupt in laughter at his predicament. Whatever shitty day you were
having before he walked in has been forgotten as he laughs along with you and
you can’t help thinking that his smile lights up the whole room.

“Hey,
you’re Tim!” You exclaim, recognition hitting you like you’ve been slapped
across the face.

“Yes…?”
He answers, wondering why you’d point that out right after he’s told you he’s
name.

“You’re
from the Wayne family aren’t you?”

“Uh,
yeah- I-I guess it’s hard to get out of name status around here, huh?”

“I
think we go to school together— you won the science fair, right?” You
inquire, a certain special someone coming to mind.

“Y-Yeah,”
he says sheepishly, not wanting a total cutie like you to think he was too much
of a nerd.

“Tell
you what, Tim,” A smile plays on your lips. “I’ll help you pick out
sweaters from our obscenely large selection if you agree to meet my little
brother.”

“Uh,
sure?” he agrees, not knowing the relevance.

“It’s
just that my brother looks up to you a lot, he loves science and hopes to win one day when he’s older just like
you,” you explain, grabbing a pen and scrap piece of paper. “So maybe
I could give you my number, and you could hang out with my brother for while?
Maybe talk about science and all that if you’re up for it?”

“Yeah,
that sounds like a good deal.” The corners of his mouth quirk up in a
smile that makes you weak in the knees and you’d probably find some way to fall
and totally make an ass of yourself if it weren’t for the counter supporting
your weight. You finish scrawling your phone number on the paper. Handing it to
him, a cute blush tints his cheeks pink. “A-And maybe I could possibly, I
don’t know, use your number to call you- t-to hang out with you? I-If you would
want that–”

“I’d
love to.”

As you make
your way around the counter, Tim thinks he might fall over because he never
would of thought that losing a bet to his brother would have turned out so
well.