#would be to have my own money and my own apartment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

junislqve · 1 day

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ᯓ million dollar — ot7

syn when the members spend their (unlimited) money on you. (1770 words)

pairs richboy!members + reader | cw mentions of money petnames — mlist navi

notes richboy members are having a chokehold on me lately

LEE HEESEUNG

“take as much time as you want, love”

earlier that day, you were scouring your closet for a decent dress. flipping through the same five for the past hour.

your boyfriend, grumbling about how you should get back to bed, watched as you pick up the same clothes. his eyes never leaving your figure, staring up at you through the mirror you were using to look at the picks.

heeseung slowly got up and hugged you from behind, burying his head on your neck. kissing your shoulder blades up to the back of your ear.

“do you need a new dress, love?”

after very few talking from heeseung and much more complaints from you, he somehow convinced you to get ready.

and that is how you’ve ended up in one of the famous streets in your city. lined up with the prettiest boutiques and malls.

heeseung wrapped his hands around yours and walked to a favorite store of yours. remembering how you’ve ever mentioned how badly you wanted to go back and buy something from it, months ago.

walking in, your small pout turned into the biggest, heart-pounding grin he’s ever seen. he bit his lip containing his own smile and dug out his wallet.

“spend it all on anything you want, baby”

PARK JONGSEONG

as a musician, looking at instruments is like strolling through heaven. admiring all the small intricate details engraved.

jay loved his guitars like it was his own child, he understands what it’s like to spend thousand and even more on just a single guitar. not that it would do anything to his bank.

you’ve never really asked jay for anything for as long as you’ve been dating. rather using your own money to buy whatever you want than letting your boyfriend buy it for you.

it wasn’t like jay didn’t want you to buy things using his card, he actually offers it most times than not. it was you who never lets him buy anything for you.

“use my card to buy the groceries, babe”

you refused to take his card whenever you could. because of this, jay has learned to pay without you knowing. usually when your back is turned or when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

right now, your boyfriend is tagging along with you as you browse through the island of pianos; ranging from yamaha to bluthner.

you stopped abruptly as your eyes fell on a piano that had you immediately captivated, from the design of the lid to the shape of the pedals, you thought it was the most beautiful piano you’ve ever seen.

when you were admiring the piano, trying out the keys and sitting on the soft cushion of the chair. you failed to realize your boyfriend had silently called the seller and slid his card. smiling down at your frowning figure.

“it’ll arrive by tomorrow morning, love”

SIM JAEYUN

“but you look so good in these, babe”

opening your apartment door with a click, the lights turned on to greet you with the copious amounts of packages laid on your living room.

the packages were of different sizes and stacked side by side. what’s worse is that you can’t remember buying all of the things you did, having to open up each package to know what and when you bought them.

you called up your boyfriend, who had brought in all of your packages earlier in the day when he paid a visit to your unit to pick up a small bag you forgot to bring.

“i seriously need to go on a ban”

“no you don’t baby, besides, you use my card when you buy anything” jake says, laying his head atop yours as he turned on a movie an hour ago to stop your fussing.

“that’s not the point, jake. i need to stop buying random things online. i can’t keep flooding my bedroom” you sigh.

“then just put the things you don’t like anymore in my apartment, you’ll have more space that way” jake smiles down at you, kissing your temples.

that was one week ago. somehow, he had convinced you to ‘accompany’ him on a late night rendezvous to prada. it was all fine at first when he was just looking at the suits. but now, he’s trying to convince you to buy two pairs of their new summer series glasses.

“i can buy this next time, babe” you finally say, sighing, after letting him talk about all the new luxury pieces of the summer set, desperately trying to talk his way into letting him buy you one.

“oh” he trails off, a sheepish grin creeping up on his face “about that, i’ve already paid”

PARK SUNGHOON

as a person who always loved the mountains, you find yourself spending weekends driving up one usually catching the sunset. this was already a routine even before you met sunghoon.

and now, you still kept up that routine whenever you weren’t too busy, your boyfriend always opting to tag along despite his complaints about being too tired. he wouldn’t actually pass up an opportunity to be with you.

you always loved traveling, within the city and during long holidays, out. liking the feeling of driving past the roads and seeing the scenery once the mountains come into view.

when sunghoon found out about this interest of yours, he started searching up for places with the most beautiful mountain sceneries. over the past years, he’s taken you to numerous countrysides and mountaintops inside and outside of the country.

even when you say it was fine if you were to only travel within the country, he loves seeing the way your eyes widen adorably during a gorgeous sunset that would rarely happen in-country. that’s why, the moment he tracks down a specific date that you both were going to be free for at least three days, sunghoon would immediately book a ticket to whatever country he’s been searching up.

on a random afternoon, sunghoon knocks on your bedroom door, walking in your apartment. as you open the door, there he stood with a big suitcase and that sweet smile of his.

“better pack up now, baby. we’re leaving in a few hours”

KIM SUNOO

sunoo knows you more than you know yourself, he’s quick to learn your body language and certain expressions you make.

it’s really hard to lie to him when he knows how to poke at you the right way to make you open up about your worries.

sometimes he just lets you have it, he knows you would at one point tell him about the things you’re going through. he trusts you on that.

but at times, he knows when you need a bit more of a cheer up. sunoo loves spending his money on you, buying you clothes, makeup, accessories. one of the things he realizes is that you love wearing jewelry. finishing up an outfit by adding a necklace or bracelets along your arm. that conveniently also accentuates your features.

he spends alot of time with you picking out sets for outfits you were going to wear for upcoming events. jewelry, he realizes is one of the things that can easily cheer you up, besides himself, of course.

so as the sweet boyfriend he is, sunoo dragged you to the jewelry store despite your sulks. and the moment your eyes laid on the glittering pearls, all of your problems seem to dissipate. just like how your boyfriend had expected.

with a giggle, sunoo starts asking the seller to bring out the full set for you to try on. patting you on the head as you continue to stare at the long rows of necklaces.

“buy whatever you want, okay? after this we can cuddle for as long as you need”

YANG JUNGWON

he would remember everything you’ve ever said to him. you like sweets? he remembers. you like flowery perfume? he remembers. you like that one specific lipstick brand that’s best bought in singapore? he remembers.

it’s not odd to get home to a bunch off boxes filled with gifts and food and random things whenever jungwon’s just went home from a trip anywhere.

anything you’ve said even before you two were dating seems to be engraved in his head like muscle memory. he can be strolling through a street market in japan and a small store would catch his eye, the next moment you would find his hands filled with keychains of a cartoon character you said you liked years ago.

his job requires him to fly countries often and it used to be a problem for you both as it means you can’t really meet him as much. but after years, both you and jungwon still communicate alot. him usually asking to facetime you at random hours of the day or night and sending you pictures of what he was doing.

both of you readjusted quite well to this arrangement and thankfully his work doesn’t demand a long period of time during those trips.

“babe there’s no way i can finish all of this by myself” you laugh seeing all of the things he bought you.

“then we can finish them together” he says, dimples peeking out through the smile “that way i can come by more often”

NISHIMURA RIKI

as days start to get more busy, you and your boyfriend find yourselves going on a short getaway to the outskirts of the city.

he showed up at your apartment one night and pulled you out of it with no explanation. you weren’t going to question him though, letting him take you wherever.

you both ended up on a train station, waiting for the last train to arrive. about an hour later, you landed on a small, but really nice accommodation.

the moment you stepped in the room, riki launched himself on the bed sighing in content.

“i want to live here forever” he mumbles out against one of the pillows.

“we both still have school tomorrow” you sat on the bed beside him, opening up your phone to continue the essay you were working on. only for it to be tackled down a second later, your boyfriend pulling you to lay down beside him.

silence filled the room, only yours and your boyfriend’s soft breathing. riki mumbled something against your hair. you hummed in question.

“let’s get room service” he says. you knew it was going to happen, it always happened. but here you are, sat on the hotel chair with too much food both of you know you can’t finish. he had a habit of buying you whatever he thought you’d like and it wasn’t like he’s wrong. the bowls of food on the table are all your favorites and you don’t even know where to start.

he really doesn’t spend much on things, but he loves going on little getaways with you every once in a while. sleeping on the comfiest beds (besides his or yours) and eating room service. something about it just brings a peaceful kind of silence for him.

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hazel2468 · 2 days

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You know, to get political for a second.

It hasn't escaped my notice that every time someone brings up the presidential election. There is ALWAYS an early 20-somethings queer person in the comments or replies going on and on about how Biden won't help Palestine, about how Biden is doing a genocide, about how "Israel this and that" and like...

You're all fucking idiots for falling for this. You are. Because those people saying that shit are either the morons we see protesting who can't answer which river and which sea they're screaming about or who don't know what Hamas' charter says, OR they're the same fucking bots who appeared all over tumblr back before the 2016 election to try and convince all of us, using the hot political topics at the time, not to vote Dem. Because they had a vested interest in us not voting Dem.

And just to speak on the whole Palestine thing here... Do you really thing. That Trump. The racist fascist who openly wants to be a dictator. Who is buddy-buddy with Netanyahu, the other racist fascist who wants to be a dictator. Is going to do anything other than give Bibi the fucking green light to do anything he wants? If you think that Trump is going to be better for your "Pro-Palestine" movement (which, btw, is in quotes because the vast majority of the idiots supporting it don't know jack shit about what's going on and don't actually care about the Palestinian people, seeing as they have a habit of cheering for the terrorist organization that uses them as human shields, steals their money and aid for their own devices, and they have a lovely habit of attacking actual Palestinian peace activists who call them on it and ignoring what they say they actually need so...) than Biden? You're out of your fucking mind.

Holy shit I am not going to sit here and watch people fall for the same BS they did back in 2016. Israel and Palestine is the hot-button topic right now. Every time you see someone talking about how Trump has promised to roll back all the protections that the Biden/Harris admin has put in place, every time you see someone pointing out that the Republicans LITERALLY have a plan to fucking turn our country into an Evangelical hellscape, there is some fucking numbnuts in the notes, probably with a pride flag in their bio, wailing about "Genocide Joe".

And you all need to ask yourself why the hell there are all of these nearly-identical blogs. All doing the exact same thing every time someone tries to point out that another Trump term would see people literally dead and our country fucking torn apart, possibly forever. Use your fucking brains.

#politics #i/p #us politics #FUCKING YOU'RE ALL MORONS I SWEAR HOLY SHIT #this is the same stuff that happened in 2016 wtf is wrong with you

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green-eyedfirework · 2 days

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Dick sighed as he dragged himself up the stairs, eyes dry and gritty. He hadn't slept properly all week and he finally, finally had a weekend off. All he wanted to do was sink into bed.

There were several downsides to not being a corrupt ass-kisser in the Bludhaven PD, and one of those was that his captain hated him. He was pretty sure Redhorn would love if he expired of exhaustion, but Dick wasn't going to give the bastard the satisfaction. He joined the police to do good, not take money and look the other way, and he wasn't going to let anyone bully him out.

Unfortunately for Redhorn, Dick was also damn good at his job, and overbooking his schedule was about the only thing the man could retaliate with.

It took him three tries to get the key in the lock--he was tired enough that his vision had started to go hazy, and every second he stayed slumped against the door increased his chances of falling asleep on his doormat--and he yawned jaw-creakingly wide as he stumbled inside.

Bed. He was so close to sleep. He didn't care if it was eight in the morning, that was what blackout curtains were for. He was just musing on whether he should choke down a microwave meal so he wouldn't wake up feeling like his stomach was trying to digest himself when he saw the guy with the gun.

Dick, three steps into his living room, froze.

The guy with the gun smiled. Before Dick could reach for his own gun, or drop to the ground, or let his sleep-deprived instincts catch up to the danger of the situation, his exhaustion-addled senses noticed the second guy with the gun. And the third. And the fourth, though this guy didn't have a gun pointed at Dick, he was just casually poking around Dick's bookshelf like breaking into a cop's home to examine his interior decorating was something he did on a casual Tuesday.

Was it even still Tuesday?

"Detective Grayson," the silver-haired asshole examining the pictures on his bookshelf said, not even turning to look at him. "Can I trust you not try anything stupid, or do you need to be disarmed?"

Dick's fingers twitched to his gun, but he didn't think he could unholster it and fire before the other three did, not with his current level of exhaustion. He mentally mourned the loss of his planned sleep. "Depends on why you broke in here," Dick said evenly. There was no cover between him and the door, so he couldn't even head out that way.

"If I meant to kill you, Detective Grayson, you'd be dead," the man said, finally turning around. "Come in and have a seat." One ice blue eye glittered dangerously. "Get comfortable. You look like you've had a long day at work."

Dick's heartbeat was pounding in his ears, everything abruptly clearer with the sudden surge of adrenaline. He did as he was told, crossing the room slowly and sitting stiffly on the sofa, never moving his gaze from the tall, broad, one-eyed man smirking at him.

"You have a lovely family," the man motioned to the pictures. "They seem very happy."

Dick resisted the urge to curl his hands into fists. "Is that a threat?" he asked as evenly as he could.

"A threat?" the man looked amused. "You're certainly very paranoid, Detective Grayson."

"One of the biggest mob bosses on the East Coast is holding me at gunpoint in my own apartment," Dick said tersely, "I think it's justified."

Slade Wilson shrugged, as if to say can't argue with that. He turned back to the pictures, as though he was studying them, and Dick went tenser.

Bruce was rich, he reminded himself. They had security. Tim was resourceful, Jason was destruction on two legs, and Dick pitied the poor fool that tried to kidnap Cassandra or Damian. They would be fine.

"No," Slade said finally, "it isn't a threat. Merely an observation. Family is important, isn't it?"

Dick forced his racing heart to slow down. "What are you doing here, Wilson?" he said, just shy of a growl. "Cut it with the cryptic bullshit."

Slade arched an eyebrow, but Dick didn't take it back. He was already being held at gunpoint in his own home, he wasn't sure his situation could get much worse.

"I came here," the mob boss said, "because I have a case for you--"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No," Dick repeated, keeping Slade's gaze even when he felt like flinching back at the dark scowl on his face. "My loyalty isn't for sale, Wilson. I'm not going to take your money, and I'm not going to be your lackey."

Instead of being met with a bullet to the head, Dick was met with, shockingly, a smile.

"I'm not asking you to do anything other than your job, Detective Grayson," Slade said, retrieving an envelope from his side pocket and tossing it onto the coffee table in front of Dick. "There's been a kidnapping--"

"Go to the station and file a missing persons report," Dick said evenly, not picking up the envelope.

"Unfortunately, circumstances require discretion," Slade said, expression darkening again.

"And half the department is in your pocket," Dick argued. He’d found that out the hard way when he’d been forced to watch as Grant Wilson strolled out of the interrogation room with a smirk. "Why did you decide to come to me?"

Slade was silent for a stretching moment, and then he sighed. "There's a traitor in my organization," he said plainly. "I don't know who it is, and unfortunately, that means there's very few people I can trust. In the absence of those whose loyalties may have been shifted," Slade pushed the envelope closer to him, "I decided to find a cop that was loyal to his job."

Dick kept Slade's intense gaze for a moment longer before reaching for the envelope. "I'm not going to do your dirty work," Dick reiterated, pulling out the papers inside. "If this person hasn't been kidnapped and doesn't want to be found, I'm not--" his words trailed off into empty air when he saw the photos.

A young girl, not yet a teenager, scowled at him in the first picture, hair the same color as the man she was sulking next to. The second, third, and fourth pictures showed the same girl, but tied up and gagged, her surroundings dark, looking up with wide, bright eyes at the camera.

"My daughter has been missing for five days. They've increased the ransom demand twice." Slade's expression is a mask of fury, but Dick can hear the desperation in his voice. "They're hurting her." Dick withdrew more papers, all the evidence that Slade had apparently collected. "I don't know who was involved, and I'm not going to risk my daughter's life on it. Can you find her or not?"

Dick looked again at the first person. 'Dad & Rose' had been scrawled on the back of it, and despite the sulking of the preteen, Dick could see her leaning into her father's side. "Yes," Dick said quietly.

"Great," Slade said. "You have twenty-four hours before the ransom drop." Wait, what? "And if anything happens to her, Grayson," Slade's expression was colder than ice, "I will ensure you share her fate. Do you understand?"

Dick swallowed and nodded.

~#~

Twenty-four hours.

The first thing Dick did once all the criminals were out of his apartment was set a timer. The second thing was to scarf down a microwave meal as he glanced through the evidence and wrote down preliminary thoughts. The third thing was to take a nap, because Dick was going to get nowhere on fumes.

Eight hours later, Dick felt marginally more human. Unfortunately, he was also a third down on his time limit, and most of his previous notes were utter gibberish.

Dick took a deep breath, put aside the indirect and direct threats of a mob boss that had broken into his home and held him at gunpoint--Dick was moving after this--and thought about this logically.

Rose Wilson had been kidnapped five days ago. The fact that she hadn't been found already meant that the mob's resources couldn't find her. Slade said that he hadn't contacted anyone in the police department, so police resources hadn't been exhausted. However, if Dick treated this like any other missing persons case, he ran the risk of tipping the kidnappers off and getting a bullet in the head.

Dick checked the time. Fifteen and a half hours left.

Maybe--maybe he was looking at this the wrong way. Slade had mentioned several offhand things--if they were all connected, that would give Dick a starting place.

So. Assume there was a traitor in the Wilson Family. Assume that they were working with corrupt cops. Assume that they had used police resources to snatch Rose Wilson.

Dick needed to get to the precinct.

He made it all the way to his building entrance before halting in the street. There was an expensive black car parked--illegally--right in front of him. One tinted window rolled down, and Dick met Grant Wilson's unamused expression.

"Get in," the other man ordered.

Dick wanted to point out that he didn't work for the younger Wilson, but getting into a shootout on a busy street seemed like a spectacularly bad idea. Plus, the clock was ticking.

"Where are you headed?" Grant asked, voice terse.

"Precinct," Dick responded warily, but all Grant did was nod and pull into traffic. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think, asshole?" Grant gave him a dirty look. "You spent nine hours in your apartment. Did you find Rose?"

Dick decided not to tell him that he'd been asleep. "Your father told me I had twenty-four hours until the ransom drop," Dick pointed out.

Grant jerked the car to a hard stop and turned to glare at him, eyes burning. "That's my baby sister that's missing, you fucking pig, so you're going to get one thing straight," he hissed, not noticing or not caring that Dick's hand had immediately gone to his gun. "If there is so much as a single hair missing from her head, I'm going to make personally sure that you regret it for the rest of your miserable and agonizing life, do. you. understand?"

Dick met his vitriol with artificial calm. "Was that supposed to incentivize me to work with you?"

Grant growled, actually growled, and Dick remembered that antagonizing the guy rumored to have a hair-trigger temper was not the smartest of plans.

"Look," he interrupted before Grant could speak, "I said I'd help, and I swear, I will do my best to find your sister. Which means going to the precinct to follow up on my lead, unless you think that being threatened is a better use of my time."

Grant's glare didn't diminish, but he did start the car again. Dick sat there in silence and wondered how the fuck he was supposed to explain this to anyone. Sorry, Internal Affairs, I was briefly held hostage by the Mob, but instead of reporting it, I investigated one of their cases and continued working with them. Redhorn would have a field day if he learned about this.

"So what's your lead?" Grant asked tersely.

Dick decided not to point out that they were going fifteen miles above the speed limit and answered the question. "I'm going to check if any of the cops have been investigating you guys recently. If you're worried about a traitor, I thought it was a good place to start."

Grant didn't seem to think so, between the mutters of "Jesus, did Dad tell you everything?" and "it took you nine hours to come up with that, genius?" but he dropped Dick off a street away from the precinct.

"Fifteen hours," he reminded Dick with a glower as Dick slipped out.

The precinct was marginally more tolerable. Dick made up an excuse that he needed to check something for a case, and it looked like most people bought it. Redhorn, of course, continued scowling at him from his office, but Dick ducked quickly into the records room, where it didn't take much to sweet-talk the sign-out list from the records keeper.

It turned out that there were a lot of people in here looking up records for cases Dick was pretty sure they weren't working on. But checking the sign-out list for the last month, there was only one who'd checked the Wilson Family open cases.

"Well, I always knew you were a bastard," Dick murmured, staring at Redhorn's name.

#my snippets #sladick #mob au #kidnapping

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ravenna-reid · 2 days

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Admirer from the past... (Pt. 3)

TW: blood and extreme stalking/obsessive behaviour

Part Two here

You stood amongst the chaos; arms crossed and an expression that read complete and utter disbelief on your face. The stench of roses blood was imbedded into your nose, and the sickly feeling stirring in your stomach wasn't leaving any time soon.

"Fuck sake." Harry had been murmuring curses for the past 15 minutes as he continued looking around your once clean and untouched apartment. But now it looked like a snapshot of hell.

Red Robin had moved from beside you to collect evidence and clues, and Harry continued analysing the scene. But you were still stuck in the entry way of your apartment.

Your name was everywhere. Inky explosions all over your white walls, the style and size of handwriting changing as you went along. Most of the ink was black, but some of it was red and dripping...you didn't even want to know.

More black roses that were halfway to death were scattered across the floor, along with all of your paperwork. The worst thing by far though were the photos he'd left behind.

Photos of you at your usual cafe. In your office. On the pavement waiting for a cab. It made your stomach churn. And it made Tim blind with rage.

Tim, after placing a withered black rose and one of the pictures of you into an envelope, glanced in your direction. You had finally moved, gingerly making your way through the mess. Your gaze was trained on all of your hard work torn up and disregarded on the floor. You ran a finger along your couch before moving it to the walls were your name sat. Eventually, you lowered your head before shaking it.

"I can't fucking believe this." Your unease and disgust was soon replaced with resentment. You turned on your heel; your glare vicious and demanding. "This can't keep going any longer. I can't move again-"

"You won't have to." Tim was across the room and before you in seconds, his words spoken like an oath. "I'll make sure of it., I promise"

"But how? What do I do with this now?"

You gestured to your poor apartment, looking around at the countless strangers that were now in your home running their own tests and theories. Tim's white casing gaze remained on you, reading the frustration and fear on your face.

"I'll just have to clean it up. Organise it myself." You murmured.

It was all you could think to do. It was what you always did. When things went south, you would plan, re-organise, think and clean. Or drive yourself insane with so much work that you'd end up earning yet another certificate.

"No can do y/n." Harry stepped over a plethora of folders before reaching you and Red Robin. "This is a crime scene now. You're going to have to leave it to us for the time being."

You drew in a sharp breath as you turned to look back at it all.

Helpless. Tim felt completely helpless and he hated it.

"Do you have anywhere else to stay?" Tim asked.

You shrugged. "My friends are out of town, so I guess a hotel will do."

"You need money?" Harry asked.

You shot a deadened glare at Harry, forcing Tim to suppress a smirk.

"Sorry, right, I know." Harry quickly backtracked. "Just don't know what else to say."

"Yeah," You sighed, "Me either."

Tim immediately thought about his apartment. Immediately wanted to offer it to you. But he feared that he'd be coming across as too eager. Overbearing even, especially since you were dealing with this maniac.

You interrupted his thoughts. "I'm gonna go pack some things then. Can I go into my bedroom and bathroom Harry?"

"Yeah, he didn't do anything back there so it's all clear."

"Nothing in my bedroom...odd, but I'm grateful."

You moved past them both to go to your bedroom. The curtains were drawn and the once serene feel to it gone. And obviously, Harry wasn't as switched on as he used to be, because the photo of you and your friends that was stuck to your mirror was gone, along with your favourite silk dress and one of your pillows.

Rage simmered in your bones, but you kept yourself contained, only cursing under your breath as you moved around your room.

Your head snapped up once you heard the soft footsteps.

There Red Robin stood at the foot of your bed. He leant against the post, imitating someone who was confident and sure, but his body language said otherwise.

"You ok?" His voice was soft, and suddenly you were abundantly glad he was here.

"No. I can't believe how this has escalated. He disappeared for months and now this." You threw a pair of pajamas into your suitcase.

Tim battled with his nerves as he neared you. "Listen, I know you might not want to be around anyone right now, but...I have somewhere you can go."

You stopped what you were doing to settle your gaze onto him.

"Somewhere to go?"

He forced himself not to scratch the back of his neck, remembering that you would pick up on it instantly. "Yeah, an apartment. Don't worry, it'd be just you. But you could stay there as long as you like, and I could keep an eye on you."

He realised how it had sounded as the words left his mouth. Tim shook his head. "Not like that, obviously. I wouldn't be stalking you, but we don't know what this guy is gonna do next, and it's best I know where you-, you'll be safe."

The faintest of smiles tugged at your lips.

And holy shit, if only you could always look at him like that. Just you, forever.

Shit, what was he thinking?

"The elusive Red Robin isn't taking me back to his own apartment is he?"

Tim fumbled for a second too long. "It's safer than a hotel." He reasoned. "And like I said, I wouldn't be staying there...just you."

"But where will you go?" You came closer, folding a shirt in your hands as you waited for his response. "I don't want to put you out."

He had his little nook back at Wayne Enterprises and his bedroom at the Wayne Manor. He'd be fine.

Tim shook his head again. "I'll be fine. Trust me."

And you did. As crazy as it was, especially given the circumstances, you did trust Red Robin. More than you trusted the police even.

"Ok, let me finish packing first. I just need to get my make-up and-"

Tim had you by your arms in the blink of an eye. Pulling you with him, he swiftly pushed you against the wall, his body shielding your own before placing his gloved index finger on your lips. You were seconds away from back handing him with all of the rings on your fingers, but the simple notion of his finger to your lips kept you quiet.

You both stilled, his hold on you gentle yet firm. His breath was warm against your skin and your heart began hammering in your chest. But not as fast as Tim's. He thought he'd pass out being so close to you. But he knew what he heard. Was sure that it was your stalker. And he was eager to get rid of him.

Tim turned his head towards the door to your bathroom.

That was where the noise came from.

Your eyes followed his gaze before snapping back to him. Tim looked back at you, expression a mixed mess of determination and concern, to which you responded with a raised brow. Then you gestured towards your bathroom.

Go.

Tim nodded in agreement. Slowly moving his hands from your arms, he quietly motioned for you to stay put. And you nodded, even if you knew you were lying.

Tim didn't know whether he should kick the door down or try to sneak into the darkened room, but he went with the latter, gently opening the door before slipping into the bathroom. And that's when he saw it. The figure outside your bathroom window on the fire escape.

Tim sprinted through the bathroom towards the hunched silhouette and ripped the window open.

It was him. Just as Tim expected.

Anger coursed through Red Robin's veins as he launched at the man. Tim got a good hit to his face, a stream of crimson flowing from the corner of your stalkers mouth, but he used Tim's momentum to throw him off balance. Tim fell on his back hard, and the man took his chance to run down the fire escape.

"Y/n, one of my guys were just looking through your CCTV. Your crazy stalker only just found out where you live last night-" You hastily yanked at the sleeve of Harry's coat, dragging him out of your apartment.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Regardless of your lack of a response, Harry broke out into a sprint right behind you without hesitating.

"He's here!" You yelled out. "Come on Harry!"

Red Robin slammed into him, the pair falling down the last flight of iron stairs onto the cement. Tim got back on his feet again, but so did your stalker, and Tim soon realised he was a lot stronger and swifter then either of you had realised.

As the man went to escape, he brought down stacks of crates to block Tim's path. A rookie move, because Tim easily evaded it with his grapple before he was on foot again, chasing the man down the alleyway.

"Fuck you! You can't have her!" His voice was hoarse and his demand haunting, making Tim all the more motivated. Tim threw small metal balls towards him, thick smoke releasing on impact.

You and Harry were out of the apartment building and scouring the streets of Gotham in no time. The club music next door pounded in your head, along with the rush of your blood as you tried to make out where your stalker could have possibly gone. Where Red Robin could have gone.

"I think they're back here y/n!" Harry shouted from behind.

You whipped your head around and followed Harry down the alley way, your heels trudging through puddles and grime when suddenly, smoke appeared. Thick, grey smoke.

You and Harry slowed down and approach with caution before you watched as he ran out of it.

Him.

Your psychotic stalker. The man who has been giving you hell for so long. Your eyes met and instantly a chill ran down your spine.

He looked animalistic. Insane. A sickening smirk on his face as he looked back at you. But it fell short once Red Robin emerged from the smoke. Just as he did, two oblivious and intoxicated girls came into view, presumably from the club next door.

They were giggling and swaying, and your stalker wasted no time; slipping behind one of them, causing both girls to scream before he had a blade against oen of their throats.

Your hand launched for the gun hidden in Harry's holster, but his hand quickly grabbed yours to stop you. "No y/n!"

Everyone stilled, the sound of music, cars and stifled cries wandering through the night.

Your stalker leered at you, and you could read that terrifying face. That unnerving expression. Eyes darting between you and the gun, he almost dared you to do it. But then his eyes glanced over your form before he tilted his head, subtly gesturing to the weeping girl in his arms.

It'd be your fault. That's what he was saying. Her death would be on your hands.

You clenched your jaw, watching on in anticipation.

Red Robin's chest heaved with anger, his hand secured around his bō. "Let her go!"

"Let me go then..." He dragged out, his eyes flickering down to the handcuffs in Red Robin's free hand. "If anyone's gonna shackle me up, it's you pretty girl."

You grimaced, your hand tightening on the gun as Harry's tightened around yours.

"Ok, just let her go." Harry quickly reasoned, justifying his action with the fact that he was sure your stalker wasn't going to hurt you anytime soon. But the girl in his arms? The one that had a machete to her throat? Harry couldn't let her get hurt. He couldn't fail another person. The girl continued crying, her weeps ringing through the air. "Just let the girl go."

Tim looked over to you. Took in the hate in your eyes. And so did your stalker as he slowly backed away, the young girl still in his hold. "Tell boy wonder to stand down." He snapped.

Harry didn't say anything, he didn't have to. Tim was one of Gotham's protectors, it was his job to protect all of the civilians. So he stood down. And just like that, the man of your nightmares disappeared amongst the crowd behind the club, his victim now sobbing in her friends arms.

Tim wanted to go after him, no matter how frivolous it would be now that he was mixed amongst a mass of people, but his attention turned to you.

You let go of Harry's gun and placed your hands atop of your head, breathing heavily from the rush and anxiety of it all.

Red Robin made his way over to you. "What were you thinking?"

You assumed he was referring to you grabbing Harry's gun and went to respond until he cut you off again.

"I told you to stay inside y/n. He could have grabbed you!"

"Red Robin, he didn't-"

"But he could have. He was armed!"

You fell quiet, slightly taken aback with how much he truly cared. Tim was just mad he couldn't grab you and hold you so this freak couldn't go near you again.

Harry checked if the girls were ok, calling some of his men to come out and meet them at the club, just to make sure everything was ok. But his attention wavered to where you and Tim stood, tension simmering in the air as you both looked back at each other.

Harry let out a long sigh before placing a hand on your shoulder. "It's been a long night. You should go rest." Harry directed his tired gaze to Red Robin. "I can get someone from the station to escort her to your apartment."

Tim wanted to scoff. "Not likely. I can take her myself."

The drive back on the back of his motorbike was morbidly quiet. Your arms remained wrapped around him, your head resting on his muscled back. You could feel Red Robin's heart thumping, but kept it to yourself.

Tim's muscles grew rigid as he continuously thought back to what had just unfolded. He knew he was just angry at that guy. He knew he couldn't remain angry with you. Not even if he tried. All he could do from here on out was keep you safe and keep his promise. He let out a tired sigh before the tires on his motorbike came to a screeching halt outside a building. As you looked at the place you'd be staying at for the next couple of days, your jaw dropped.

Red Robin seemed to have forgotten to mention that his place wasn't some ordinary apartment. No, he owned a suite in one of the most prestigious hotels in Gotham.

"This is where you live?" You asked, slipping off his motorbike before he could offer his hand.

"Yeah," he pulled up his seat and grabbed your suitcase from the inside. "Come on, let's head in."

Before you entered the glass double doors and stepped upon the marble floors, you came to a halt, turning your head over your shoulder to look back at the street. To look at the alleyways looming before you, waiting to see his sickly face staring back at you.

"Hey," Tim grabbed your elbow, softly gesturing for you to relax. "It's ok, you're safe here."

"What if he comes?" You asked, and you couldn't hide the fear in your eyes anymore.

It made Tim's heart snap in half, but it also did something else. Some fervent need to protect you. To bring this stalker to justice. Deadly determination weighed down on him as he looked at you.

"He can sure try."

Part 4 soon ya'll, lmk what you think :)

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