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urdreamydoodles · 1 month ago

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Bat-Family x Fem!OC

You confess your feelings to them

Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (aged up), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Selina Kyle & Kate Kane

Jason Todd aka. Red Hood

- Jason Todd is not a man of gentle expressions, but there’s something in his eyes when he looks at you that betrays the storm raging within him. He’s rough around the edges, a product of tragedy and survival, but there’s a softness he reserves for you—a quiet longing he cannot suppress. You’ve caught him staring countless times, his lips parting as if to speak, only to close again as he retreats behind his walls. He’s not afraid of danger, but vulnerability terrifies him, and you’ve become his greatest fear.

- When you finally confess your feelings to Jason, he freezes. His confidence, his biting humor, and his unshakable demeanor all crumble for a moment, leaving him stripped bare before you. He looks at you like you’ve just handed him the most fragile piece of glass, his calloused hands unsure of how to hold it without shattering it. "You don’t know what you’re asking for," he says, his voice low and trembling, but there’s no mistaking the flicker of hope in his gaze.

- Jason doesn’t let people in easily. He’s been burned too many times, betrayed by those he once trusted, and haunted by the shadow of his own death. But you? You’ve always been different. He doesn’t know how you managed to slip past his defenses, but now that you’re here, he’s terrified of losing you. His love is fierce, protective, and consuming, like a wildfire that doesn’t know how to burn quietly. He promises to protect you, even from himself.

- He doesn’t say “I love you” right away. Jason isn’t the type to rush into declarations, but his actions speak volumes. He becomes more attentive, more present, and more open in ways he never thought he could be. He’ll cook for you, fix things for you, and show up when you least expect it but need him the most. Every small gesture is his way of saying what he’s too scared to put into words.

- When he finally does say it, it’s in the dead of night, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “I’m yours, if you’ll have me.” The vulnerability in his tone makes your chest ache. Jason Todd loves like he fights—with everything he has, unrelenting and unapologetic. And as you take his hand in yours, you realize that the walls he once hid behind have crumbled, leaving only the raw, unguarded truth of his love for you.

Dick Grayson aka. Nightwing

- Dick Grayson is the kind of man whose charm lights up any room he walks into, but with you, it’s different. His usual ease and effortless charisma falter slightly, replaced by a nervous energy that he can’t quite mask. He teases you playfully, his laughter warm and inviting, but beneath it all, there’s a flicker of uncertainty. You’ve always known him as a beacon of joy and optimism, but when he looks at you, there’s a depth to his gaze that makes your heart skip.

- When you confess your feelings, Dick is stunned into silence. His bright blue eyes widen, and for a moment, you can see every emotion he’s feeling—surprise, hope, and a vulnerability he rarely shows. Then, a slow, radiant smile spreads across his face, one that makes you feel like the most important person in the world. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” he says, his voice soft and full of wonder.

- Dick’s love is like sunlight—warm, steady, and impossible to ignore. He’s the type to sweep you off your feet, literally and figuratively, finding ways to make every moment with you feel like an adventure. He doesn’t shy away from showing affection, whether it’s holding your hand in public, leaving notes for you to find, or pulling you into a spontaneous dance in the middle of a quiet street. With Dick, love is vibrant and all-encompassing.

- He listens to you in a way that makes you feel truly seen, his attention unwavering as you speak. Dick is thoughtful, always finding ways to support and uplift you. He remembers the little things—your favorite coffee order, the stories you’ve told him, the songs you hum when you think no one is listening. His love is attentive and intentional, a constant reminder that you’re the center of his world.

- The first time he tells you he loves you, it’s during a quiet moment. The world fades away as he cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as he gazes at you with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. “I love you,” he says, his voice steady and certain. And as he presses his forehead against yours, you know that with Dick Grayson, you’ve found a love that is as boundless as the sky.

Tim Drake aka. Red Robin

- Tim Drake is an enigma, a mind that never rests, always analyzing, always planning. But when it comes to you, his careful composure falters. You’ve seen him lose himself in thought, his eyes distant as he works through some puzzle in his head, but the moment you enter the room, his focus shifts entirely to you. He’s quiet, observant, and hesitant, but there’s a softness in the way he looks at you that speaks volumes.

- When you confess your feelings, Tim’s reaction is as complex as the man himself. His first instinct is to overthink, to dissect every word you’ve said, trying to understand how someone as extraordinary as you could feel the same way about him. But then, his logical mind gives way to emotion, and he smiles—a rare, genuine smile that makes your heart ache. “I… I didn’t think this could happen,” he admits, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and quiet joy.

- Tim’s love is quiet and steadfast, like the gentle hum of a machine that never stops working. He shows his affection in subtle ways—a cup of tea waiting for you when you’re tired, a blanket draped over your shoulders when you’ve fallen asleep, a quiet reassurance that he’s always there. He’s not the most expressive, but his actions are deliberate, each one a testament to how much you mean to him.

- He’s not used to putting himself first, and loving you is both a challenge and a revelation. Tim finds himself wanting to be better, not because he thinks he isn’t enough, but because you inspire him to grow. He shares pieces of himself with you that he’s never shared with anyone else—his fears, his dreams, his insecurities. With you, he feels safe, and that safety becomes his sanctuary.

- The first time he tells you he loves you, it’s quiet and unplanned. He’s working late in the Batcave, and you bring him coffee, setting it down beside him. He looks up, his eyes soft and filled with gratitude, and the words slip out before he can stop them. “I love you.” It’s simple, unadorned, and completely genuine, and in that moment, you know that Tim Drake’s love is as profound as it is enduring.

Damian Wayne aka. Robin

- Damian Wayne is not an easy person to love, but you’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge. He’s sharp-tongued, prideful, and often difficult, but beneath the layers of arrogance and bravado lies a heart that beats fiercely for those he cares about. You see the way he softens around you, the way his scowl becomes less pronounced, his tone less biting. He’s still Damian, but with you, he allows himself to be vulnerable, even if only a little.

- When you confess your feelings, Damian’s first reaction is disbelief. He straightens his posture, his piercing green eyes narrowing as if trying to detect a lie. But when he sees the sincerity in your gaze, his expression shifts. “You’re serious?” he asks, his voice low and uncertain. The Damian Wayne who always has a retort for everything is, for once, at a loss for words.

- Damian’s love is fierce and protective, like a knight sworn to defend their queen. He’s not one for grand romantic gestures, but his actions speak louder than words. He ensures your safety with an intensity that borders on obsession, his sharp mind always a step ahead of potential threats. To him, loving you means shielding you from the darkness of the world, even if it means sacrificing pieces of himself.

- Despite his tough exterior, Damian’s affection manifests in small, meaningful ways. He’ll remember the books you love, the meals you enjoy, and the stories you’ve shared. He’ll leave a rare flower on your doorstep, a subtle nod to something you mentioned in passing. Damian may not say “I love you” often, but his actions are a constant reminder of how deeply he feels for you.

- When he does tell you, it’s after a battle, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He looks at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. “You’re mine,” he says, his voice firm and resolute. “And I… I love you.” It’s not a declaration made lightly, but one that carries the weight of his entire being. And as he takes your hand in his, you know that Damian Wayne’s love is as unyielding as the man himself.

Barbara Gordon aka. Oracle / Batgirl

- Barbara Gordon is a woman of strength and resilience, a beacon of hope in a world often shrouded in darkness. She’s brilliant, determined, and fiercely independent, but with you, she lets her guard down. There’s a warmth in her smile when she sees you, a light in her eyes that speaks of a deep, unspoken connection. She’s not one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but you can feel her affection in every word, every glance, every touch.

- When you confess your feelings, Barbara is caught off guard. Her usual composure wavers, and for a moment, she looks at you as if you’ve just rewritten the world. “You mean that?” she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief and cautious hope. When you nod, her smile grows, and she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Well, it’s about time,” she says, her tone teasing but her eyes brimming with emotion.

- Barbara’s love is steadfast and empowering. She believes in you, perhaps even more than you believe in yourself, and she’s always there to lift you up when you falter. Her affection is woven into the fabric of your everyday life—the way she makes time for you despite her busy schedule, the way she listens to you with undivided attention, the way she challenges you to be your best self.

- She’s not afraid to be vulnerable with you, sharing her fears and insecurities in a way she rarely does with anyone else. With you, she feels safe, and that safety allows her to embrace every facet of herself—the good, the bad, and everything in between. Barbara’s love is a partnership, a meeting of equals, and she treasures the bond you share.

- The first time she tells you she loves you, it’s during a quiet moment at her apartment. She’s working on her computer, the glow of the screen casting soft shadows across her face. You’re sitting beside her, and she suddenly turns to you, her expression open and unguarded. “I love you,” she says simply, her voice steady and sincere. And as she takes your hand in hers, you realize that Barbara Gordon’s love is a gift you’ll cherish for the rest of your life.

Stephanie Brown aka. Spoiler

- Stephanie Brown’s love is like a burst of color in a black-and-white world—vibrant, chaotic, and utterly unforgettable. She’s the kind of person who laughs loudly, teases endlessly, and throws herself headfirst into life. But when it comes to you, her usual bravado softens. You notice it in the way she lingers a little too long during conversations, the way her jokes take on a tender edge, the way she looks at you as though you’re the only thing keeping her grounded.

- When you confess your feelings, Stephanie is utterly floored. Her first instinct is to crack a joke, deflecting the overwhelming surge of emotion she feels. But then she sees the sincerity in your eyes, and her laughter fades into a quiet, stunned silence. “Wait—are you serious?” she asks, her voice uncharacteristically small. When you confirm it, her grin spreads wide and bright. “Well, it’s about time, gorgeous,” she says, pulling you into a spontaneous, breathless hug.

- Stephanie’s love is a whirlwind, full of spontaneity and adventure. She’ll drag you into ridiculous escapades, like sneaking onto rooftops just to stargaze or planning midnight trips to the nearest diner. But for all her chaotic energy, there’s a depth to her love that surprises even her. She’s fiercely loyal, ready to fight the world if it means protecting you, and she makes sure you never feel like you’re facing life’s challenges alone.

- She’s not shy about showing her affection, either. Stephanie thrives on physical closeness—hand-holding, hugs, and playfully stealing kisses when you least expect it. She’s the type to leave sticky notes on your fridge with doodles and silly messages or text you memes that remind her of you. Her love is unfiltered and unapologetic, as bright and boundless as the woman herself.

- When she finally says “I love you,” it’s during a quiet moment after a chaotic day. You’re sitting together, catching your breath, when she suddenly blurts it out. “I love you, you know that, right?” Her tone is so casual it takes you a moment to register her words. But when you look at her, she’s grinning, her cheeks tinged with the faintest blush. And in that moment, you know that Stephanie Brown’s love is the kind that will never let you go.

Cassandra Cain aka. Orphan

- Cassandra Cain is a woman of few words, but her actions speak louder than anything she could ever say. She watches you with an intensity that can be both unnerving and comforting, her dark eyes seeming to read your every thought. Cassandra doesn’t love lightly; she’s been through too much, seen too much, to give her heart away without thought. But with you, it’s different. You’ve become her anchor, her safe place, even if she struggles to put those feelings into words.

- When you confess your feelings, Cassandra is silent for a long moment. She studies you, her expression unreadable, as if trying to gauge the truth of your words. Then, slowly, a smile blooms on her face—small, tentative, but undeniably genuine. She doesn’t say much in response, just a quiet, “Me too.” But the way she looks at you, her eyes shining with emotion, says more than words ever could.

- Cassandra’s love is quiet and unwavering. She shows her affection in the way she protects you, always staying one step ahead of any danger. She’ll guide you through crowded streets with a hand on your back, ensure you’re safe without being overbearing, and stand by your side no matter what. Her love is steady and unshakeable, like a lighthouse guiding you through the storm.

- She’s not big on grand romantic gestures, but the small things she does speak volumes. Cassandra will sit with you in silence, her presence comforting and grounding. She’ll learn your favorite songs, your favorite foods, and the little quirks that make you who you are. She may not say “I love you” often, but every action, every glance, every touch is a reminder of how deeply she feels for you.

- The first time she tells you she loves you, it’s simple and unadorned, but it takes your breath away. You’re sitting together, her hand resting lightly over yours, when she looks at you and says, “I love you.” Her voice is soft but certain, her gaze steady and unwavering. And in that moment, you realize that Cassandra Cain’s love is a quiet, enduring flame that will never be extinguished.

Duke Thomas aka. Signal

- Duke Thomas is a beacon of light in the darkness, his optimism and determination shining through even in the toughest of times. He’s the type of person who believes in people, who sees the good in the world even when it’s hard to find. But when it comes to you, his usual confidence wavers. You catch him stealing glances when he thinks you’re not looking, his smile softening whenever you’re near. With you, Duke feels like he’s found something worth fighting for.

- When you confess your feelings, Duke’s first reaction is disbelief. “Wait—really?” he asks, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and joy. But when he sees the sincerity in your eyes, his grin spreads wide, lighting up his entire face. “You have no idea how happy this makes me,” he says, pulling you into a warm, heartfelt hug. In that moment, it’s as if the entire world fades away, leaving just the two of you.

- Duke’s love is steady and reassuring, like the warm glow of a streetlight on a dark night. He’s the type to check in on you regularly, making sure you’re okay and offering support whenever you need it. His affection is thoughtful and deliberate, whether it’s surprising you with your favorite snacks or sending you encouraging messages throughout the day. With Duke, love is a constant, unwavering presence.

- He’s also deeply protective of you, not in a controlling way, but in a way that makes you feel safe. Duke is always thinking ahead, always considering how he can make your life better and easier. His love is selfless and genuine, rooted in a deep respect for who you are as a person. He admires your strength, your beauty, and your resilience, and he never lets you forget how much you mean to him.

- The first time he says “I love you,” it’s during a quiet moment, just the two of you sitting together under the stars. He takes your hand in his, his thumb gently tracing circles on your skin. “I love you,” he says, his voice steady and full of emotion. And as you look into his eyes, you know that Duke Thomas’s love is a light that will guide you through anything.

Selina Kyle aka. Catwoman

- Selina Kyle is a mystery, a woman who walks the line between light and shadow with a grace that is all her own. She’s playful and alluring, her every word and movement carefully calculated to keep you guessing. But when she’s with you, there’s a vulnerability she doesn’t show to anyone else. You’ve seen the softness in her gaze, the way her teasing smirks give way to genuine smiles, the way she lets her guard down just enough to let you in.

- When you confess your feelings, Selina’s reaction is a mix of surprise and amusement. She arches an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” she says, her tone light and teasing. But then her expression softens, and she steps closer, her fingers brushing against yours. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she admits, her voice quieter now, almost shy.

- Selina’s love is like a dance—graceful, unpredictable, and utterly captivating. She keeps you on your toes, always surprising you with her wit and charm. She’ll whisk you away on spontaneous adventures, whether it’s a rooftop picnic under the stars or a midnight walk through the city. With Selina, love is an exhilarating game, one that you never want to end.

- Despite her playful demeanor, Selina’s love runs deep. She’s fiercely protective of you, willing to fight tooth and nail to keep you safe. She’s not one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but her actions speak louder than words. She’ll remember the little things, like how you take your coffee or the stories you’ve told her, and she’ll find ways to show you how much she cares in her own unique way.

- The first time she tells you she loves you, it’s almost accidental. You’re lying together, the city lights casting shadows across her face, when she whispers it, almost as if she didn’t mean to say it out loud. “I love you,” she says, her voice soft and full of emotion. And as she looks at you, her usual confidence giving way to something raw and real, you realize that Selina Kyle’s love is as complex and beautiful as the woman herself.

Kate Kane aka. Batwoman

- Kate Kane is a fortress, her walls built high and strong to keep out the pain of her past. She’s tough, confident, and unyielding, but with you, she allows herself to be vulnerable. You’ve seen the cracks in her armor, the moments when she lets her guard down and shows you the woman behind the Bat. There’s a quiet intensity in the way she looks at you, a depth of emotion she struggles to put into words.

- When you confess your feelings, Kate’s reaction is guarded. She takes a step back, her sharp blue eyes studying you carefully. “You’re serious?” she asks, her voice steady but tinged with uncertainty. But when you nod, her expression softens, and a small, almost hesitant smile breaks through. “I wasn’t expecting that,” she admits, her voice quiet. “But… I’m glad you said it.”

- Kate’s love is a steady, grounding force. She’s not one for grand romantic gestures, but her affection is unwavering and deeply genuine. She’ll show her love through quiet acts of care—making sure you’re safe, supporting you in your goals, and standing by your side no matter what. With Kate, love is a partnership built on trust and mutual respect.

- She’s fiercely protective of you, her training and instincts kicking in whenever she senses danger. But she also knows when to let you stand on your own, respecting your independence and strength. Kate’s love is balanced and empowering, a reminder that she sees you as her equal in every way. She admires your courage, your beauty, and your resilience, and she makes sure you know it.

- The first time she says “I love you,” it’s after a long night of patrols. You’re sitting together, the exhaustion visible on her face, when she turns to you and takes your hand. “I love you,” she says simply, her voice steady and sincere. And as she looks at you, her walls finally lowered, you know that Kate Kane’s love is a fortress you can always call home.

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leth-writes · 6 months ago

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yandere batfam x vampire reader

BRUCE

You wake up chained to a corner in an ornate room. It seems that Bruce Wayne has caught you. The chain is iron but the collar is a plush fabric, preventing chafing. This really symbolizes your period of captivity with Bruce. Harsh rules, soft application.

He keeps you in that room, absent of any furniture except a bed and the bathroom, which you have to ask to use, until he can fully trust you. Even then, you won’t be able to ever leave the grounds of the manor. Alfred is intrusted to taking care of you during the times where Bruce can’t be around you.

He completely shifts his sleep schedule to match yous; sleeping during the day, in a room right next to your so he can hear you through the walls and watch the live video feed of you curled up, napping, as he falls asleep. He wakes during the night and cuts down on his time as Batman, at least until he can trust you.

When it comes to drinking blood, he prefers if you drink from him, usually from his wrist as he stands, hovering above you, but he’ll let you use some of his extra stash in the cave if necessary.

DICK

With Dick, you wake up in his bedroom. You’re probably in a pen, cordoning off part of the room; he wishes he could trust you but he just can’t, not yet. There’s silver bars that’ll burn you if you get too close, but otherwise you aren’t chained up.

He’ll push to psychologically break you as quickly as possible. He’s forcing you to stay up and stopping you from drinking any blood until you’re begging and pleading in a heap on the floor, crawling toward him when he opens the door and steps into your pen.

He holds your exhausted, weak bodhy in his arms and feeds you his blood, watching and smiling as you lathc onto the small incision he’s made on his wrist. He’s practically rocking you back and forth, soothing any anguish you’ve been feeling.

The sudden absence of pain, combined with his touch, trains you to associate him with pleasure rather than fear, and you’re suddenly clinging onto him, refusing to let go.

This was his plan all along, and now you can come cuddle on the bed with him :)

JASON

You’re completely tied down with thick leather straps. He isn’t letting you budge for at least a year, but due to your vampiric abilities, you won’t get hurt from that. The only exception is when he feeds you laced blood and lets you go to the bathroom.

He only feeds you blood he’s gotten from the family; as much as he wants to, he can’t feed you his for fear of corruption due to the lazarus pit. It kills him that he can’t feed you, but he’d rather keep you soft and compliant.

So, he laces every bag until you’re comfortable with him touching you and moving you around. This is when he stretches your limbs and makes sure your muscles don’t fully atrophy.

He secretly likes how weak, how dependent, you are on him. You remind him of a younger version of himself, and he’s incredibly protective. Won’t let any other member of the family into the safehouse, let alone in the same room. Various members try, he threatens to shoot them, they leave.

Your feedings are soft and comfortable, all cozied up in a blanket on his lap as he feeds you from a mug. It’s kinda weird but he also warms it up. Don’t ask, he swears it’s better for you.

If your teeth start to hurt from not being able to bite, he’ll massage your gums. Don’t fight it, he’ll tie you back down and pump you so full of drugs you’ll see stars. Jason doesn’t mess around when it comes to your health, it’s his main priority, even over your pride.

Eventually starts to wean you off the drugs, and you’ve come to rely on him for practically everything. being able to nurture you and keep you safe heals that vulnerable part of him he’s pushed deep down, under the pit, and lets that old part of him blossom.

TIM

Tim takes the longest amount of time to get you used to him. He probably gets you set up in this old victorian mansion, and you honestly have the run of the place, except for the windows and doors, which are lined with silver bars. Blood bags are delivered through a slat in the door, covered with his scent. It’s the only connection you have with the outside world.

You spend over a year in this mansion. At first you’re convinced you’ve got it easy, until the touch starvation starts to set in. You start spending more and more time just lingering by the door, hoping that he’ll come in and finally talk to you. You spend more time begging and pleading through the slat than you do drinking the blood, and you find yourself clutching the thick bag to yourself, just to keep that scent, that connection, for even a moment longer.

Finally, he starts talking back. It’s slow at first, just little one-word answers here and there, maybe once a week, then he slowly ramps it up.

Eventually you’re having hour-long conversations, trying to beg him to just come in and hug you, you’re so desperate.

That’s when he swoops in and takes you back to the manor. All of your old relationships are completely decimated and you’re entirely reliant on him to keep yourself sane, latching onto him like a lighthouse in the storm. It took a while but honestly your bond is probably the strongest out of all of the examples. He knows what he’s doing.

#yandere batfam x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere batman #yandere batfam #lethwrites

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

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jason strikes me as the member of the family that holds out the longest and acts as the closest form of protection to a kidnapped darling-sibling that they eventually feel "comfortable" enough going to him as defense or a buffer from the others. until this inevitably leads to them alone one night and maybe they've allowed themselves more comfortable clothing (read: less coverage than a convent's dress code) and he gets a glimpse of skin as he glances down at his darling-sibling leaning against him. and is it hot in here? more than usual? it cant be the blanket it's been there a while without issue. and then darling-sibling makes the mistake of looking up at him, with big, innocent eyes and the most adorable pout.

i mean, everyone else has treated you so callously, like a piece of meat meant to be ravaged, jason would never! when he touches them, it's with nothing but gentle yet firm hands, like handling a baby bird. and he knows he makes you feel safe, imagine if he could make you feel MORE. something even more pleasurable than calm and secure? what if he could bring you ephoria and ecstacy? he's not thinking about what you would be doing to him, oh no, this is TOTALLY 100% altruistic big brother doing what a big brother should for his darling younger sibling who's needed him so much all this time. of course he'd be needed here too.

i got carried away.

word count: >1.0k.

tw: implied non/con, obsessive behavior, implied kidnapping, nonconsensual touching, and overall freak behavior.

He was doing this for your sake.

You didn’t know that. He’d tried to tell you, but you’d refused to listen – just cried and whined and clawed at his chest as he positioned himself above you, his body between your legs and a hand planted on either side of your head. He could still see your mouth moving, recognize that wet, glazed-over look in your eyes, but whatever sentiments managed to make it past your trembling lips were long underneath the sound of his own heart beating in his ears, the rattle of the air in his lungs as he struggled to keep his breathing even, to stay composed. If he panicked, rushed, you’d only get more scared and, well, he didn’t want you to be scared. Not of him. Not of what he was going to do for you.

With an airy sigh, he leaned down, leaving that much less space between your form and his. The shirt you’d borrowed from him (a sight too familiar to still send the pang of warmth through his chest it had the first time you smiled so shyly and asked if you could borrow something a little more comfortable than the pitch-black turtlenecks and baggie sweaters you chose to pile on around the rest of his family) was a size too big, prone to sliding down your arm, and he buried his face in the dip of your shoulder, letting his lips ghost over your unprotected skin. The hem had ridden up, leaving your side vulnerable, exposed. His hand fell to your waist, and—

Fuck.

You were softer than he thought you’d be.

Bruce would’ve been too cold, too busy pretending to be unaffected to savor the feeling of your unscarred, unhardened skin against his calloused fingertips, and Dick wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from tearing you apart. Jason, though – he kneaded into your hip, your thigh like you were the most delicate thing on the face of the planet because, even if he rolled his eyes when Tim explained that it was the Wayne family’s duty to protect you, you were. He was different from his brothers, from Bruce, from the rest of the manor. He knew what it felt like to break everything he touched, which meant he was the only one who could do this without breaking you.

He pressed a kiss, gentle and impulsive, into the corner of your jaw, then the side of your neck. This time, he heard the ragged sob that tore past your lips, felt your blunt nails rake over his back with enough force to break the skin. He stifled a throaty groan, ignored the way his cock pulsed behind the suddenly constraining material of his sweatpants – instead, he focused his attention on you, on pressing open-mouthed kisses into your collarbone. It took more self-restraint than it should’ve not to leave a mark, not to bite down and make sure anyone who looked at you would who’d put their claim on you, but self-indulgence could wait until you blinked up at him with those teary, glossed-over eyes and asked him to protect you from the rest of his family, the rest of the world. Caught up in his fantasy, he let his grip tighten, let his thumb press into your thigh with too much force, and you cried out, the noise cracked and helpless in a way that made him love you just a little more. “Jason, please, I don’t want to—”

He hushed you with an airy chuckle, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “I know, baby bird, I know. You can just lay back and relax. I’ll try to make it fast. And fun, too, even if you’re gonna keep pouting like that.” He sighed, then smiled against the base of your throat. “It’s better like this. The other guys – they’d be too rough, and you’re too fragile for something like that.”

He pulled back, already grinning down at you. “This’ll be your first time, right? Don’t you want your favorite big brother to help you through it?”

You only sobbed louder in response, but he didn’t mind. This wasn’t for him. He didn’t have to enjoy it.

He was doing this for your sake.

Maybe, by the time he was done, you’d be a little more thankful.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere batfam #yandere batboys #batfam x reader #batfam imagines #yandere dc #dc imagines #jason todd x reader #yandere jason tood

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thatrandomsarahchick · 1 year ago

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Why would you not just write this in the thread???

DCxDP Fic idea: What's the Rule again?

It starts with Wes Weston accidentally banishing Danny from his haunt. He didn't mean to, and he panicked along side Sam and Tucker when Danny was effectively evicted Danny from Amity Park.

See the four have become tight-knited friends every since the trio started talking to Wes back during the summer between freshman and sophomore year.

During that time, Wes's other friends had drifted apart once Wes' attention moved from basketball to ghosts- specifically Phantom. Danny had felt at fault that he was left a loner because of his secret identity and had invited Wes to sit with them at the Nasty Burger the second week of Summer break.

Wes was suprise to find out that Sam, Tucker and Danny were much better friends then the ones he hanged out with since third grade. He was used to people only speaking to him in class or the few times they hang out on breaks but the trio would message him about every single thought or meme they had. They could laugh togther until tears fell from thier eyes and they couldn't breath over the silliest of topics.

Wes also found out that the trio was supportive of all their interests. Sure, his old teammates and friends didn't make fun of him for crocheting or painting, but they wouldn't accompany him to an art market. Nor would they actually wear the scarves and gloves he made them.

They sure as hell didn't volunteer to help him run a booth to sell his own crocheting pieces after encouraging him to get a table. And they wouldn't cheer loudly when he made his first sale.

Wes also wouldn't have happily gone with them to an observatory, a Dark Poem Night, or even a tech expo. But he found that he had the time of his life watching Danny, Sam, and Tucker nerd out at the events much as much as he did at his own.

He also never had anyone he knew would be down to do him favors or even take notes for him when he was out sick.

So he became close friends with them, passing sophomore year with far more enjoyment than any other grade, then Junior year came and went just as fast and as fun. It was their last summer as high school students, so Wes wanted to do as many new activities as the four could together before Senior year.

Who knew what would happen to their little group after graduation? He wants to think they would all remain best friends but he's heard so many stories of people drifting apart that Wes was afraid of risking it.

That's why he researched urban myths and legends around the world regarding ghosts- more then any research paper he's ever done- and jokingly asked Danny to partake in some of them as a halfa.

They joked and laughed- throwing salt in a circle around Danny, lighting a candle for him to use Morse code with- but it wasn't until Wes got to the one where he tried smoking Danny out with a banishing spell he found in an old book that things turned from funny to horrible.

It worked

Danny was flung from his haunt- effectively banishing him from the area he was haunting. Dann just happens to be haunting all of Amity Park, so he ends up on the outskirts of town, unable to cross the invisible line.

Wes practically choked on his tears as he apologized for Danny not being able to cross back in, but the other three quickly informed him that they, too, took part in it, and it was no one's fault. Danny just had to find a way to reverse the banishing spell.

The only problem was that the book pages Wes found online were only on the banish spell itself and nothing else. He couldn't even find the whole book since it belonged in a private family library.

The family library was located in the most dangerous city in America. Gotham.

The library also belongs to a very wealthy family that had recently all but perished except for their lone heir- Timothy Drake.

Now Wes attempted to contact Timothy Drake in hopes of having the other teenager send him copies of the book, but he never got a reply. He thinks it was due to not explaining why he needed the book and ending up sounding like a bot or a scam.

With each passing day of Drake not responding Danny's situation grew worse. Jazz luckily covered for them, claiming to have signed Danny up for some camp so his parents wouldn't think he was missing.

That would only work until school started, which was a time limit that was weighing on all their shoulders as they tried to find a counterspell.

Jazz, Tucker, Sam, and Wes each took turns driving out of town to bring him food and a change of clothes so Danny could figure out his situation, having to do it in shifts to not alert any of their parents.

However, without his haunt to pick up natural exoplasm, Danny was growing weaker and weaker by the day, looking half stave out in the little motel room Sam rented for him as they tried to get him back into the town.

Danny needed to either make his way back to his haunt or go somewhere that was so infected with ectoplasm that it actually felt cursed.

Tucker found the solution to all their problems with a few hacking skills that he learned to fight off Technus' invasive attempts of his personal tech.

"A full ride to Gotham Academy?" Wes' mom gasped staring at the acceptance letter her son eagerly showed her. "With a promised full ride to any university in America?!"

"Yeah, Tucker, Sam, Danny, and I all got accepted for our work on clean energy generators. We sent it in for the Wayne scholarship, and we won! The only thing is that it's a requirement to graduate from high school in Gotham. I have to go!" Wes gasped, eyeing both his dad's and Kyle's doubtful frowns. He couldn't afford for them to say no when Tucker had worked so hard to bump them up as Winners. Bruce Wayne's computer security is no joke. "This is the once in a life time opportunity!"

"But where would you live?" His dad asks, shaking the letter. "Wes, this is clear across states, and it only covers school expenses."

"Sam's parents bought her a house. She's going to rent us some of the extra rooms." It was a lie; her parents would never let four boys- especially these boys- rent from their daughter. She told them that the school provided co-dorm rooms "I can get a job at the local library- I already sent them my resume and got a call for a interview."

"What will you do for food?" Kyle asks. "We both know you can't cook."

"I can't, but Danny does. He's amazing in the kitchen."

Here, his parents share a loaded look. "So you'll be living with the Fenton boy....."

"Well. Yeah? I already said that?" He returns, confused, and Kuule coughs to cover a laugh. Confused he stares at his older brother, who quirks a grin at him.

"Don't worry about it." Kyle laughs, but his wiggling eyebrows tell Wes he should worry a lot about it. He would inisit a little more to find out what Kyle knew, but he needed to convince his parents more.

Eventually, after five days of attempting, Wes got their permission and could tell his friends, who all shared the same results. The remainder of the summer is spent preparing for their move- finding the house, getting it furnished, packing their things, transferring schools- it's a lot, and he's never been so grateful for Sam's wealth.

She hires people to get it all done for her-including hiring a trailer to take their four cars-, so he only has to worry about his packing. The four meet up at the airport on the day they live, flying first class thanks to Sam's grandmother.

Tearful goodbyes and good luck from their families leave them all a bit down but they board the plane and take off without too much trouble.

While on the plane, Sam turns to the boys. "Does everyone remember the phases of the plan?"

"Phase one: Blend into Gotham until we find Timothy Drake" Tucker states, pushing up his glasses

"Phase two: Get Drake to invite us over to his house and find the book," Danny tacks on, tapping his foot on the ground.

"Phase three: Find all the pieces for the counterspell- usually scattered around the magical family's ancestral home- and get Danny home!" Wes shouts, raising a fist in the air.

Sam nods, looking satisfied. "And what are we not allowed to do? Danny?"

"Become a vigilante when my ectoplasm is on a limited intake" Danny grumbles, sinking into his chair. "Let it to the Bats and keep my head low."

"Good. Tucker?"

"I'm not allowed to hack into anything because it can gain the attention of the Bats or Mr.Wayne, and then we'll be on a wanted list" Tucker sighs "No matter how much fun it would be to battle it out with the legendary Oracle."

"That's right. I'm not allowed to go anywhere near Poison Ivy no matter how much I want to yell at her to go fix the coal riffs and cut down forests instead of wasting her powers on the stupid heist." Same all but bites, and then she turns her attention to Wes, who startles.

"Wes?"

"Wait, I have a rule?"

"Course, man," Tucker laughs. "We all have rules."

"But I'm not interesrted in anything in Gotham besides the Drake grimoire!"

"Wes," Danny says gently, his soft baby blue eyes making him a little hot under the collar as they stare into his soul. "You're not allowed to fall in love with any of the Bats."

Wes mind blanks, then reboots, "Excuse me!?"

"We know you had a crush on all of us here Wes and Val" Sam laughs when he turns wide eyes at her. "It's cute but you really shouldn't try for the Bats. They're the violent sort"

"What?!"

"Yeah, you have a type, and it's a hero or hero adjacent." Tucker shrugs "It's cool."

Wes can only gape at them, no matter how much he tries to convince them; otherwise, the three refuse to remove his rule. He is highly offended by it.

Yes, he's never really gone out with Team Phantom, just because when he joined the group, most of Danny's rouges were long gone leaving behind the tiny ones that he could handle on his own, but he wasn't into heroes!

And okay- maybe, maybe at one point or another he may have had slight crushes on his friends but they were quick and gone before the first school year together!

So the rule is utterly ridiculous!

At least, he thinks so until five days later when he's trying to find his way around the new neighborhood and gets caught up in a mugging. He could have quickly taken the mugger- humans had nothing on ghosts- but he attempted to talk the young adult out of it when Red Robin swooped in like a knight in shining armor.

He may have just stared at the hero's tight-skin outfit instead of letting the hero know that he could handle it, and he may have made a fool of himself when Red Robin asked if he was right.

"Yeah tots fine" He babbles. Ugh, who says tots?! He wants to stop talking but when Wes gets nervous he tends to just word vomit and he could hear himself doing it now. "You know who else is fine?"

Red Robbin raises a brow, likely knowing the pickup line. Cowering, Wes changes the answer in a panic. "Timothy Drake!"

Red Robin stills. "Come again?"

"Timothy Drake, a boy in my class! He's fine that you think he was part siren or something. You've seen him, right? I mean you have eyes!" He repeats with a squeal "I want to get into his private liberty!"

"Do you?" Red Robin tilts his head, a slight smirk forming on his mouth. "You should try flirting with him then. Maybe he can give you a tour."

"Oh, I want more than a tour!"

Why did he say that?!

At least the hero in front of him laughs until a shout has them both looking away.

Danny is running down the street screaming his name, thank the Ancients. When Wes turns around to wave at him, Red Robin vanishes without a sound or trace.

Like a ghost.

Oh no, that's hot.

"Danny, I broke the rule"

"For Ancient's sake, it hasn't even been a month."

#they probably start to worry when they see Danny's friends mother henning him #like they ask Wes to a date but he makes Danny come along #they thought Danny was the protective one at first but then worried about how many times wes asked if Danny's alright #does he want Wes' scarf? is he hungry? he should eat more? want to get out of the sun?#and Danny isn't acting they know he isn't. they end the date early despite what Danny says and assure him they had a good time #after; they asks Wes about Danny's situation. Wes sees the opportunity and confess that he puts a curse on Danny on accident and came to #Gotham to find the solution. It was just dumb teens being dumb you know. And they are Gothamite; they know. So Wes successfully enlists them #to help. Many the pages is literally scattered? And they have to go on a small adventure with time and Danny's health against them.#*Maybe not Many #Also; how about everyone breaking their promises?#Sam and Tuck vs Ivy and Oracle #Danny can't help it and tries to help when he can despite his declining health; making himself to be Tim's “tragic love interest”#Wes seems to be the “civilian” that follows heroes around thinking they know better or the one says they don't need heroes' help #He's hard headed but vulnerable and sometimes even shows his useful skill set. Wait. he's Tim's “Lois Lane”...#Bernard is the “normal but not actually” bf #We have so many character traits for love interests here lol. Tim is in for an interesting (and stressful) time of his love life.#dpxdc #Danny Fenton #tucker foley #Sam Manson #wes weston #tim drake #bernard dowd

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jaythes1mp · 7 months ago

Text

5070 words, 29086 characters, 239 sentences, 116 paragraphs, 20.3 pages. Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae @wpdarlingpan @dhanyasri @tojislvrr @phoenixgurl030 @mel-star636 @lilyalone @lavender-moony

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

Please send me requests. I love writing but I can only do it with actual ideas to motivate me🙏

On your late-night journey home, you're cornered by one of the numerous street criminals prowling the streets of this cursed city. Getting mugged in Gotham isn't anything out of the ordinary, but even still, you can't help but feel surprised. It seemed that strangely enough, the past four years, thugs had begun to avoid you like the plague.

This was a situation you hadn't found yourself in since you were just a fifteen-year-old kid, still struggling to find your footing in the grimy underbelly of Gotham.

The street thug pinned you against the wall, holding you in place while her accomplice jabbed the cold barrel of a gun against your head.

Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, fear and panic clawing their way up your spine. Your breath hitched in your throat, a cold sweat pricking at your skin as you instinctively raised your hands in surrender.

As the cold metal of the gun was pressed harshly against your temple, you fought to tamp down the tremors shaking your body. You knew that any wrong move could spell disaster, so you forced yourself to remain still, praying that the thugs would be merciful enough to let you free.

Your mind raced as thoughts of the worst-case scenarios flickered through your mind. The thug with the gun pressed against your head sneered, her grip on your shoulder growing tighter as she spat out a threat.

The sheer terror you felt in that moment was overwhelming, threatening to swallow you whole. The harsh reality of the situation settled on your shoulders like a crushing weight. You were all too aware that you had no experience in dealing with situations like this, leaving you feeling vulnerable and powerless. Your eyes squeezed closed, a lump forming in your throat.

The rough brick of the wall dug into your chest, the cool air of the night doing nothing to soothe the panicked frenzy of your heart. The thug's hand on your shoulder was a vice-like grip, their fingers digging deep into your flesh.

In times like these, you regretted ever turning down the self-defense classes that your old employer had offered. The weight of that decision settled heavily on your shoulders as you longed to have the skills to protect yourself from the imminent danger.

You silently berated yourself for your naivety and carelessness. It had been foolish to believe that just because the villains had avoided you for the past few years, you would be safe from any harm. Yet, here you were, pressed against a wall, a gun held to your head by street thugs.

As your thoughts ran wild, your mind spiraled into a whirlpool of grim possibilities. The thought of your friends' reactions to your potential death played through your mind - the pain and grief they would feel upon losing you. You wondered if Damian would be upset about his sketchbook, the most constant connection you had to him. If Jason would be filled with anger at the inconvenience of tidying up your belongings, if your... no. She’d probably find relief in your absence... You wondered if Tim would shed tears in sadness. The image of him crying, tears streaming down his face, left a bitter taste in your mouth. Then you thought of Bruce. Would he be disappointed you never got to accept his offer? Your thoughts spiralled as you got increasingly more upset. Who was going to feed your pet turtle...? Would she think you abandoned her?

The weight of those unanswered questions gnawed at your thoughts, the possible reactions of your friends, pet, and the people who had offered you a place to call home. Your mind latched onto the image of them crying, the thought of any of their tears causing a pang of anguish to settle deep within your chest. You didn't want to imagine your friends' pain upon your loss, but the what-ifs haunted your mind like a relentless ghost.

The rough bricks of the wall dug into your chest, the sharp edges of the broken and uneven surface biting into your vulnerable flesh. The cold, unforgiving metal of the gun against your skull pressed further against your skin, an imminent threat hanging in the air. You clenched your teeth together, fighting to hold back a whimper that threatened to escape from the back of your throat.

Damian's heart raced in his chest, thumping out a rapid rhythm against his ribcage. Disbelief and anger twisted his features into a fierce scowl. From his stealthy perch on a nearby rooftop, he had silently tracked your movements throughout the night, his gaze never straying far from your form. But now, as he watched intently as you were cornered by a bunch of worthless thugs, his protective instincts surged through his veins. How dare these lowly criminals think they had the right to touch you?! Especially after all the efforts he had expended to ensure your safety. You were his sibling.

The sight of you in danger ignited a fire within him, burning hot with both rage and protectiveness. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. How could he have let this happen? He had been so careful, making sure to keep watch over you from a distance, and yet here you were, at the mercy of criminals who were nothing but scum. His fingers dug into the edge of the rooftop, the urge to leap down and intervene overpowering his self-control. He didn’t have to think twice before swinging into action.

Damian swiftly made his way toward you, propelled by the rooftops with practiced ease. The cool night air kissed his face as he bounded between buildings, his agility and precision a testament to his years of training. He remained hidden from view, his black, yellow and grey costume blending into the shadows, allowing him to quietly approach the scene unnoticed.

As he drew nearer, he could hear the thug's threats, the cold barrel of the gun pressing closer to your head. His temper flared, a dangerous heat building in his chest. These worthless lowlifes were going to pay for putting you in danger.

Robin, perched high above, kept a vigilant eye on the unfolding scene. Every word from the thug's mouth only fueled his anger. He assessed the area, taking in every detail with a cold, calculated gaze. The street was eerily silent, devoid of any other souls. No potential witnesses or interruptions to hinder his intervention. This moment was perfect. A chance to make these pathetic thugs pay for their audacity. They dared to touch what was his.

Each breath Damian took was measured and steady, his heart drumming steadily in his chest. He knew he had to act swiftly and with precision. He couldn't afford any mistakes. You were his responsibility – his blood. No one was allowed to touch you. No one.

Robin’s muscles coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger. His eyes flickered between the thugs and their guns, mentally calculating the best course of action. His instincts were on high alert, every fibre of his being focused on the mission: protecting you.

He’ll make a mental note to have you under tighter security starting in the immediate future.

With a final, calculated assessment, Robin silently prepared himself for the inevitable confrontation. He would protect you at all costs. The thought of you getting hurt, because of his carelessness, was unacceptable. He would eliminate these fools before they could even think to touch you again.

The woman holding you, pinned your arms behind your back in a rough and painful grip. Their hold was unyielding, causing your arms to bend in an unnatural and uncomfortable position. You couldn't help but let out a small, pained whimper, the sharpness of the maneuver making you wince.

Your eyes pinched shut, and you forced yourself to take deep, measured breaths. It was your attempt to steady yourself, to hold back the wave of panic and fear that was overtaking you.

Your chest heaved with the force of each breath, trying to regulate your racing heart. A small shiver ran through your body, the fear and helplessness of the situation gnawing at the edges of your mind. The pressure of the woman's grip on your arms made you want to squirm and struggle, but you steeled yourself against the natural inclination.

Robin, like a silent wraith, leaped into action. His katanas moved in a blur, swiping the gun away from the goons' grasps before they could even register the movement. His presence was both dangerous and deadly, every muscle tensed and coiled like a predator ready to pounce. His sharp, grey eyes fixated on the thugs, a silent warning in their depths.

A sharp gasp slipped past your lips as the cold metal of the gun abruptly lifted away from your head. The sound of it banging loudly against the gritty, dirtied concrete ground echoed through the air, the sudden absence releasing a tiny bit of the tension that had been coiling painfully in your chest.

You stayed still, barely breathing, your body locked in the woman's tight and cruel grasp. Her hold on you was unrelenting, an indication that any wrong move would result in snapped bones. You couldn't turn your head to see what was happening, fear and pain keeping you rooted in place.

The woman's grip on your arms tightened, a painful reminder of the danger of any movement. You were trapped, unable to see what was happening behind you. Every instinct screamed at you to fight, to struggle and get away, but the fear of severe injury made you hold yourself perfectly still. The only thing you could do was remain in this terrifying, vulnerable position.

Robin's mouth curled into a snarl, his anger flaring as he saw you trapped in the woman's grasp. Your small gasp of relief at the gun being removed from your face only fueled his rage. How dare these pathetic humans touch you, his sibling, his family, without any regard for your safety and wellbeing. The thought alone filled him with anger he had trouble controlling. He had failed you.

As Robin stood before the thugs, his katanas held at the ready, he locked his gaze with the woman holding you in her iron grip. His eyes darkened with a fierce intensity, a silent challenge in their depths.

Robin's gaze, burning with righteous anger, fixated on the woman who held you captive. The air around him crackled with a dangerous aura, his muscles coiled tensely as he held himself back from pouncing on the pitiful excuse for a human being in front of him.

The woman holding you in an iron grip was clearly an amateur, her sloppy and harsh moves betraying her lack of experience. She seemed to rely on brute strength, rather than skill, to overpower her victims.

Her careless and overly aggressive approach was a stark contrast to Robin's years of training and discipline. He took in every detail, every movement and expression, noting the flaws in her techniques. She was like a novice facing a seasoned warrior. It was downright pitiful.

To Robin, the woman's every move stank of amateurishness. Her clumsy and brute force tactics were as subtle as a bull in a china shop. It was clear that she had never received any formal combat training; relying solely on the ability to intimidate and overpower her victims. In comparison, Robin was a paragon of discipline, control, and skill. The difference in their approaches could not be more stark. She was insulting you for even thinking someone like her could ever be in your presence.

The woman's lack of finesse and skill made Robin's blood boil. She was like a pathetic child playing at being a thug, an insult to the name of criminals everywhere. He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck taut with restrained anger. He could see her flaws from a mile away, her amateur tactics screaming for correction. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, his mind racing with possible ways to take her down without harming you further.

Robin's intense gaze continued to pierce through the woman holding you. He was like a coiled spring, his muscles tense and taut, ready to pounce at the very next moment. He couldn't help but feel a sense of revulsion as he observed her sloppy moves. This is the type of amateur who would get themselves killed in Gotham in the blink of an eye. His anger flared further as he saw how carelessly she was handling you, her fingers digging into your flesh in a painfully tight grip.

For a brief moment, he considered just knocking the woman unconscious and freeing you from her grip. But then, with a cruel and calculated grin, a different thought occurred to him. He wanted to teach her a lesson. Maybe if she was truly frightened, she might actually learn something.

With a subtle flick of his wrist, Robin tossed one of his throwing stars at the ground, the sharp and sudden movement drawing the woman's attention. Startled by the sound, she turned her head to look at the star, her grip on you loosening just a fraction.

Robin seized the opportunity, and in the blink of an eye, he moved behind her, his footsteps so silent that they made no sound.

The woman's eyes widened as she realized Robin's presence behind her, but before she could turn to face him, he had her by the throat, his hand encircling her airway in a firm grip.

As Robin observed your trembling form, your eyes still squeezed tightly closed, his heart clenched in his chest. He could see the fear and helplessness your body was radiating and it infuriated him. You looked like a terrified animal caught in a trap, desperately trying to hide from your captor. The thought of how scared you must be only served to fuel his obsession. You needed their protection.

Robin's grip on the woman's throat tightened as he drew her closer to him, his face inches from her ear. His voice was low and filled with a dangerous edge as he snarled, "You dare lay a hand on MY family and think you'll get away with it? You're a pathetic excuse for a thug."

The ringing in your ears and the shortness of your breath is all you can focus on, having not heard the boy’s words. Luckily for him.

Seeing that you were still too scared to open your eyes or listen, Robin tightened his grip even further on the woman, his eyes narrowing as he leaned his head closer to her ear. "You thought you could get away with this? Pathetic."

As the woman began to struggle in his grip, her eyes widened as she realized the severity of the situation. Fear and panic filled her gaze, and her chest began to heave with labored breaths. Robin took a sadistic pleasure in seeing her fearful reaction. He smirked, his grip unwavering.

He was enjoying this. Teaching this low-life a lesson was like music to his ears. He wanted her to be terrified, to feel the same fear she had inflicted on you. You were his family. His.

As the woman gasped for air, her attempts to break free growing more frantic, Robin leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching her ear. The smirk on his face only grew wider. "Not so strong now, are you?" he whispered, his voice dripping with mockery.

As the woman's grip on you suddenly loosened in panic, it caused you to lose your balance and fall unceremoniously onto your knees with a thump. The sudden movement startled you, freezing you in fright. Your limbs locked up in response to the sudden movement, leaving you vulnerable and exposed as you knelt on the dirtied ground.

Robin's heart stopped as he saw you fall to the ground with a thump. His eyes widened briefly, his grip on the woman loosening slightly in shock. He watched as you knelt on the ground, frozen in fear and vulnerability.

His protective instincts flared up, and he had to suppress the urge to immediately rush to your side. Instead, he forced himself to remain focused, keeping the woman pinned in his grip.

Robin's sharp gaze snapped from the woman to you as he heard the thud of you falling to your knees. Concern immediately replaced his previous satisfaction. He could see the terror freezing up your body, rendering you frozen and vulnerable.

He gritted his teeth, feeling a mixture of anger and worry. He needed to get you out of this situation, preferably without causing you further stress or harm. His grip on the woman tightened again, cutting off her panicked gasps as he held her at bay.

With a quick, sharp jerk, he slammed her against the wall, the force knocking the breath out of her lungs. "Stay still," he commanded, his voice harsh and authoritative.

He then turned his attention to you, quickly crossing the distance between you. He crouched down in front of you, his eyes flicking over your form, assessing for any signs of injury.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, his voice a stark contrast to the harshness of moments ago. He reached out a hand, gently touching your shoulder as he tried to coax you out of your frozen state.

You looked up, your eyes wide with surprise and wonder, as you took in the sight of the young vigilante towering above you. Your throat closed up for a brief moment, your mind struggling to fully believe that it was indeed Robin, the Robin, standing before you.

You managed to force out a meek whisper, the word barely audible. "Robin...?"

In your current frightened and bewildered state, there are a million questions and thoughts running through your mind. In a normally clear state of mind, you would have jumped at the chance to ask the youngest vigilante for an interview. In this moment, however, the only thing you manage to let out is a hesitant whisper, his name. Your mind trying to piece together the reality of the situation.

Robin knelt down in front of you, watching as realisation flooded your eyes. He could almost see the thoughts spinning through your mind like a whirlwind. For a brief moment, he was thankful for your stunned silence. It gave him a chance to assess the situation without being bombarded by a thousand questions.

He watched you take in his presence, your gaze wide and filled with wonder and disbelief. The word 'Robin' escapes your lips in a barely audible whisper.

He nods slowly, acknowledging your tentative recognition, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

He could see the questions brimming behind your lips, but to his surprise, you remain silent. It seemed your fear had rendered you speechless, and for a moment, he found himself relieved. It gave him a few precious seconds to focus on the task at hand: getting you out of danger safely. He gave your shoulder a firm, gentle squeeze, his voice remaining hushed as to not startle you further.

"I'm here, you're safe." He tried to keep his tone calm.

Robin swiftly scooped you up, pulling you against his chest in an easy movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to pause, relishing the feeling of having you so close to him. His heart beat fast and loud in his chest, an undercurrent of fierce protectiveness and possessiveness rushing through him. The thugs already forgotten, as he now focused solely on getting you to safety.

As he quickly leaped from one roof to the next, never slowing his pace, he spoke, his voice low and even. "Where do you live?" He’s already running in the direction.

He kept a firm but gentle grip on you, making sure that you were held safe and secure in his arms as he ran. The wind whipped around you, cool and exhilarating, as Robin navigated the Gotham rooftops with practiced ease. He repeated his question, his tone now slightly more demanding, as he continued traversing through the city.

You tried your best to gather yourself, blinking against the cool night air buffeting your face as Robin held you against his chest. Your voice was soft and slightly shaky as you spoke, the wind attempting to carry your words away.

"Just... just around the corner.."

Robin nodded, accepting the information without question. His strides didn't slow as he continued moving, the muscles in his legs propelling him forward with trained speed.

The city lights flashed by as Robin swiftly carried you through the maze-like labyrinth of Gotham's rooftops. His strides were long and purposeful, his movements fluid and precise. His arms held you firmly, one hand tucked under your legs and the other looped around your back.

Despite the circumstances and the speed at which you were moving, he took great care not to jostle you any more than necessary. It was clear that you were in pain and scared, and he wanted to minimize any further distress.

“... thank you.”

As you murmured your thanks, Robin's heart clenched in his chest. The pure gratitude in your voice was a stark contrast to the vulnerability and fear he could feel in your trembling form. He wanted so badly to respond, to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he was willing to do to protect you, but he remained quiet. He had to stick to their plan. Right now, he was solely focused on getting you home, where you would be safe from harm. His arms wrap tighter around you. He gives a simple nod in response.

You lifted your hand slightly, carefully pointing in the direction of your apartment balcony. The gesture was small, but it was enough for Robin to understand your meaning.

Without a word, he altered his course, angling his body to head towards the balcony you had indicated. Each leap and bound over the city skyline brought him closer to your apartment, the destination in sight.

Despite his casual demeanor, Robin was fully aware of the path they were taking. Years of patrol and countless hours of study had etched the city's layout into his memory, a map constantly present in the recesses of his mind.

He could flawlessly navigate the maze of Gotham's buildings, his muscles and movements guided solely by pure instinct. Every twist and turn was memorized, a testament to his extensive knowledge and dedication.

As they approached your apartment, he adjusted his hold on you, preparing to make the final leap onto the balcony.

With a final powerful bound, Robin lands on the balcony gently, steadying you against his chest. He carefully lowers you to the ground, his hands lingering on your body for a moment longer than necessary, as if ensuring you were truly safe and sound.

He takes a moment to glance around the vicinity, his eyes scanning the area for any potential threats. The Gotham night is relatively quiet, the sounds of the city reduced to a hushed hum in the background.

Once satisfied that the area is clear, he turns his attention back to you. He takes a step back, giving you a moment of space. His eyes watch you closely, searching for any signs of distress or injury.

He lifts a hand, reaching out to gently touch your cheek. His touch is gentle, but his voice is firm. Emerald eyes searching your form. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

Despite his mask concealing his face, the concern in his voice is palpable. He takes a step closer to you, his hands moving to your shoulders as he steadies you against him. His gaze remains fixed on you.

You gently shook your head, a small, reassuring grin playing at your lips. Despite your earlier fear, you were clearly feeling somewhat better. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rushing through you, or the simple fact that you were safe now.

Robin noticed the shift in your expression, a slight furrow forming between his eyebrows as he looked down at you. He could feel the tension slowly draining out of your body.

Robin observed the small smile on your face, his eyes studying you closely. The brief moment of relief he felt at your reassurance was quickly replaced by a sense of caution. He could see the adrenaline still coursing through you, but he knew from experience that it was a temporary high. The fear would return sooner or later.

He nodded, accepting your answer but still feeling a small pang of unease. "Are you sure you’re okay?" he repeated, his hands still on your shoulders.

Your brows raise in slight disheveled amusement. This was the infamous arrogant vigilante? You call bull.

“Yeah, I’m alright now. Thank you.”

Robin's eyes narrow slightly at the amusement in your tone. Despite your gratitude, he can sense your slightly disbelieving and slightly amused. For a moment, he wonders if you are treating him like a kid playing dress-up.

He straightens up, his grip on your shoulders tightening ever so slightly. He cocks his head to the side, his voice a mix of annoyance and determination.

"What's so funny?" he asks, the slightest hint of defensiveness in his tone.

Despite the irritation in his voice, there's a hint of vulnerability. He's not used to being questioned, especially not by someone he feels responsible for. He wants to be taken seriously, to be seen as more than just a young boy playing at being a hero.

He takes a step closer to you, his gaze never leaving your face. "I'm serious. You could’ve been seriously hurt," he says, his voice stern. He's not used to expressing his emotions openly, but the thought of you in danger is making his typically controlled facade start to crumble.

You bite your tongue, holding back the sarcastic remarks and jokes that usually come so easily to you. You were well aware of how close you had come to serious danger, and the severity of the situation.

Robin can see the restrained smirk, the flicker of a joke on your lips, and it irks him more than the actual sarcasm. He's used to dealing with sarcastic criminals and sarcastic bats, but the thought of you making light of your own safety is frustrating. He clenches his jaw, trying to keep his annoyance under control.

"This is no joke," he finally says, his voice firm. "What you did was stupid. Walking alone in Gotham at night."

Robin's eyes held a mixture of emotions, anger and frustration and worry and protectiveness. But beneath it all, he was most angry and frustrated with himself. He should have been there sooner, he should have been able to stop those thugs before they even got close to you. This event was only proving to him what he already knew - you were not safe in the city, not without someone to protect you. They needed to speed up with their plan before he goes insane.

He withdrew his hand from your cheek, the loss of his touch leaving a cold emptiness in its wake. He fidgeted with his utility belt, a nervous habit.

"I have to go." He murmured, his voice low and laced with a hint of reluctance. His eyes scanned over you one more time, mentally committing your features to memory. It was as if he were trying to memorize every detail, every curve and contour of your face.

"Be sure not to walk alone at night. Or ever." The last words came out as more of a command than a warning, a hint of desperation laced in his tone.

Before you could even think of a response or express your gratitude, Robin had already vanished into the night, leaving you standing alone on your balcony.

Despite the circumstances, a soft, almost wistful grin crept across your lips as you replayed the events of the night in your mind. Despite the danger and the near brush with violence, you couldn't shake the thrill of meeting the young vigilante, the Batman’s associate himself.

Even though you didn't get to ask all the questions you wanted, the encounter was still something exciting.

You silently crept into your room, taking care to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake Jason who was probably asleep in his room down the hall. You shrugged off your bag and jacket, discarding them to the side before crawling into the safety and warmth of your bed. You bring your hand out to tap softly against the glass of your turtles enclosure as a silent good night, cuddling further under the blankets.

Feeling the comfortable weight of the sheets surrounding you, you let out a soft sigh, already feeling the exhaustion starting to pull at your eyelids. Unaware of the chaos that was brewing at Wayne Manor, nor the many sets of watchful eyes observing you through the carefully placed cameras that dotted the room.

The cameras strategically placed throughout your room recorded every subtle movement as you got yourself settled into bed. Every blink and every shift was captured in sharp, high-definition video, the images streaming directly to the computer screens at Wayne Manor.

In the depths of the batcave, the video feeds played on several large screens, each one displaying a different angle of your room.

Multiple figures looking over the room full of monitors, displaying your every breath, every toss and turn as you drifted off to sleep. Watching each and every twitch, each flutter of your eyelashes.

The silence in the batcave was heavy, only disrupted by the soft hum of the computer equipment and the occasional murmur between the group of figures huddled in front of the bank of monitors.

Each screen showed a different angle of your room, the camera feeds streaming smoothly, giving an intimate view of your every movement. Every breath, every twitch, was recorded, observed and analyzed by the watchful eyes monitoring you. Every inch of your room was on display, the cameras capturing even the tiniest detail.

Even in your sleep, you were still being watched.

No use of y/n, no descriptive features for reader, no mention of gender.

Does anyone have any ideas for the name of your pet turtle?

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acid-ixx · 8 months ago

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I’m new, I just read your fic about neglect reader. I haven’t read through your blog yet but I am so excited after reading this fic. I am an emotional wreck right now and my curiosity is eating me alive with this question “Does reader know about Jason? Will they ever met? Ever have a platonic relationship together? Will Jason be more of a brother to reader?”

I’m sorry I speed through the fic and tears are in my eyes I couldn’t think straight BUT I notice that Jason is hardly there so I’m curious. Please this is such a brain rot, it’s way past midnight after I read this cause I keep stopping to cry.

major (?) spoilers below.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

hello anon !! im so happy ppl are getting more exposed to the content i have written so far. anyways, i can't believe i also got others to cry bec i did too when i was writing 😭

anyways, to answer ur question: yes! the reader will meet jason and he would actually be the first sibling you would meet after you have left the manor. the way he would turn yandere for you is a different approach to how the others would be because in the prequel, it has been stated that you had your fair share of encounters with him.

"will they ever have a platonic relationship with him/see him as a brother?" maybe, maybe not. because your meeting with him would all be a blur to you, and jason's obsession would stem from the trauma he had experienced, causing him to be more protective of you.

you're not in your best mindset and you're vulnerable walking through the streets of gotham and all alone? oh god, only a dumbass would do that— but once the red hood recognizes your face and the way you carry yourself so pitiably, he immediately tries to take you in his arms just as he should.

but the moment you push him away? tell him to fuck off despite your drunken state? the moment you cry and tell him you could deal with everything yourself without his help or anybody else's? you just remind him of himself and that triggers his first spiral into yandere-ism.

it's the way you share trauma, the way you both feel immense anger. he should've noticed sooner because you two would've been as close as peas in a pod. and yet he failed you by being a hypocrite. you were literally taken into the manor right after his death and discarded like you were mere trash. he should've taken you away when he had the opportunity to but he was too caught up in his feat of revenge.

yet the worst part was that he had taken notice of tim before he did you, and jason had momentarily hated you too because he thought bruce had replaced him. if he had looked through that veil of contempt that he had for you, and saw just how neglected and in need of attention you are, then he would've taken you under his wing.

but he didn't, and he had done the same thing to you as most did.

so take it as you will when i say you're more or less going to be closer (albeit unwillingly) to jason than anybody else because unlike his other siblings who are bound by their vigilante duties, your big brother jason wouldn't mind shooting any creeps who think they could touch his precious angel.

and he gets it, too, angel— you hate him, you hate them all and that's valid. but you can't just walk out in the streets alone and expect to be home in one piece; so leave it to him to scout your apartment alright? leave it to your big brother jason to intimidate the goons who try to stalk you when you're not looking. even if you don't want him near you, you'll always find warm food by your table and a note reminding you to take care of yourself more often.

it hurts when you rip the paper to shreds but it breaks his heart even more if you refuse to touch the meal he would leave for you, because that probably means you saw him as danger more than anything else. and he doesn't know it, but you're already planning to make a run for it now that you're under red hood's radar.

it's obvious that you have no experience when it comes to living by yourself, so please don't fucking push him away and let him protect you from any harm. your self destructive habits only causes him to become more protective of you and it only lets him stalk you more often to ensure nobody would touch his precious angel.

just like dick, you'll be treated more like a child than that of a young adult, but at least jason has the concept of personal space compared to your eldest brother. but still, jason wishes to hold you in his arms.

heaven forbid if the joker ever got his crummy fingers on you. jason would go berserk.

little does he know, little does your family know just how much they had lost the opportunity to keep you in wraps inside the manor.

they should've never let you out in the first place.

#🍨... yael's talking #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere jason todd #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #platonic yandere #forgive me my reply is such a mess 😭#ive been drowsy for the past for days it's hard to get to my bearings #like any thoughts that come into my mind comes poof #anyways if ur dick's baby bird then ur jason's precious angel because you are so vulnerable in his eyes #like bby why r u walking alone. u forgot to ask him to walk with you again didn't u?? don't worry he'll make sure the streets wouldn't smell #of blood next time

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lazycats-stuff · 7 months ago

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Would you do Damian having a half-brother and when Damian finally trust Bruce and the family he asks for help to save his half- brother, because the brother was treated badly because he had some hidden disability which prevents him from fighting. This half brother is the only person he really cares about, and he actually cried once they are reunited

I would do it anon. That's a nice idea.

Summary: Damian's half brother is in trouble and Damian needs to save him.

Warnings: mistreatment, implications of it at least, emotional Damian... Minor cursing.

Being raised in the League of Assassins, you are raised to fight. If you can't fight, you are worthless to the League. It was kill or be killed. That was something that Damian was taught for as long as he can remember. Damian and his half brother (Y/N), that is. (Y/N) and Damian share Talia as a mother, but (Y/N) didn't have Bruce as a father.

The duo was very close, despite the circumstances. (Y/N) can't fight due to a disability and that has made him useless, according to the League. Damian hated to see his brother like that. Being shunned by his mother and grandfather just because he can't fight.

Damian and (Y/N) were thick as thieves and Damian told some of his secrets to (Y/N), who in turn would keep it to himself. They were each others rocks, anchors... It would hurt Damian to see get (Y/N) treated like pure and utter shit and Damian tried to keep him somewhat safe.

Damian knew that he couldn't protect him all the time. He knew that their grandfather eyes and ears everywhere and the two needed to be careful and discreet.

However, everything went to shit once Damian was sent off to his father Bruce. As his mother would say, to protect him, since he is the heir to the League and if something were to happen to him... Well, the League wouldn't have a leader and it would put the League in a shit position to say the least.

Damian wanted to bring (Y/N), to say something to his mother and grandfather, to allow them to bring (Y/N) with him, to a place where they would both be safe. Where they could be happy even. But... He knew he couldn't do it. It would make it worse for (Y/N) than it already it is.

During Damian's time with Bruce and his adopted brothers, he thought about (Y/N). Is he okay? Is he even alive? Is his disability worse or better? Is it being treated for it? Is he not? Is he still neglected?

During the months he was in Gotham, that's something he was wondering all the time. Sometimes sleep eluded him due to those thoughts, making him restless. He wanted to tell Bruce and the others, but he didn't trust them.

Trust is something that he was taught was vulnerable. And vulnerability gets you killed. That was ingrained into him and into (Y/N)... And yet...

(Y/N) and Damian trusted each other with their lives. They swore to each other to protect each other. And although (Y/N) couldn't do it physically, meaning he couldn't fight, but he could be there emotionally and Damian could fight in (Y/N)'s name. Almost like a ying yang. While one provides emotional support, the other provides physical support.

Everything was in balance, just as it should be. But, Damian knew that he would be happier with (Y/N) here, with him.

Damian entered the living room, where everyone was waiting. Damian told them he had something important to discuss with them and everyone was curious about it. What could be that important, that Damian himself or Demon spawn as Jason called him, want? After all the shit he pulled with them, pure distrust and whatnot.

" I assume you are wondering why I called this meeting... But there is a pressing matter. " Damian started, adjusting his sleeves. Everyone noticed how nervous he was and Jason and Tim even shared a look of confusion and concern.

" Damian? What do you mean? " Dick asked, interested and worried about his brother. Bruce and Alfred also exchanged glances, worried about Damian. He was always cold and collected.

Not this hesitant. Or nervous.

" I trust you all now to share this with you. " Damian declared and Jason nearly fell off the sofa, but deep down he was happy. Sure, the two weren't really nice to each other, but still. They are ride or die no matter what. They are brothers and would help each other out.

" Holy shit. " Jason said, making Alfred smack the back of his head. " Hey Alfred! " Jason yelled, making Alfred huff.

" Focus on master Damian and no cursing. " Alfred instructed and Jasno crossed his arms and Alfred nodded at Damian, urging him to continue.

" Thank you... I have a half brother, who is still stuck at the League. " Damian said, easing the them into it. Well, everyone was shocked, Bruce more than anyone... Talia was with someone else? What?

No one said a word due to being speechless.

" A... Half brother? Same mother? " Tim asked and Damian nodded. " Okay. Okay... Well, this is shocking... " Tim muttered, making Dick nod and Bruce leaned back into the arm chair.

" He has a disability and he is unable to fight. Grandfather and mother mistreat him due to it. I promised him that I would help him. And I need to go help him. But I can't do it alone. " Damian explained and everyone tried to process it.

" There's two of them... " Jason muttered, making everyone chuckle, Damian included. " What's his name? "

" (Y/N). "

" Well, one can hope he is calmer than you. " Jason said.

" Also, lets hope he's not so aggressive as you. " Tim joked and everyone laughed again.

" He is calmer don't worry. " Damian said, before his face turned serious. " But we need to save him now. " Damian said seriously and everyone agreed.

" We will. We just need to devise a plan. " Bruce said, easing Damian's worries, rubbing his arm. Dick nodded. " We can't go without a plan anyway... Ra's is too smart for that. "

Tim and Jason nodded and Alfred gave Damian a hug, which lasted 5 seconds, but still, a hug is a hug. " Thank you. " Damian said and Alfred nodded. Bruce also gave Damian a hug and Damian just relaxed and seemed at ease, despite the tense situation at hand.

" We'll get (Y/N) back for you. And you and him will be safe here. I'll make sure his needs are met and no one will be mean to him. " Bruce said, giving a pointed look to Jason.

" Oi, if he is nicer than Damian, I have no problem. " Jason explained and Bruce nodded.

" Good. "

" And besides, none of us would be mean to (Y/N), especially due to his disability. " Dick added and Bruce nodded.

" Good. I don't want to hear anything about any of you being mean to (Y/N). More so, when he has a disability. " Bruce added.

" We are not assholes Bruce. " Tim said, making Bruce huff.

" I never said that. I'm just making it clear. " Bruce added to his initial claim, allowing Damian to move out of his embrace as well.

After a week of making a plan, on how to get in and make sure that they got (Y/N) out safely and unharmed. Damian had to mentally prepare himself for it, knowing that they would be going to the place where he was molded into what he is. Not to mention, they moved (Y/N) somewhere else, but still near the League's headquarters.

It was one hell of a risk to take, but Damian was willing to take it. Anything to save his brother. Not half brother, but brother. Damian was ready.

Damian was ready for a fight. He would make sure his brother is safe.

And true to his feeling, there were assassins guarding the halls. The family fought them off and Damian searched every single cell. At this point, he was getting desperate, hoping they didn't move (Y/N) somewhere else...

" (Y/N)! " Damian called out, making everyone stop. Everyone listen intently, trying not to lose their mind.

" Damian! "

Damian froze when he heard him. He ran towards the source, trying to pinpoint where his own brother was. He didn't care about anyone at this moment, but his brother.

" (Y/N)! " He called out again, stopping to listen. Once he heard the voice again, he ran, pinpointing the door.

Of course. Big, heavy, metal doors. How did he miss that? Bruce and Jason started fussing around the door, trying to unlock it.

" Are you okay (Y/N)? " Damian asked, since there is a small space on the door where anyone can peer in to look at him.

" I miss my bed. " (Y/N) said, making Damian chuckle. " I heard you were shipped off to Batman... Is that the truth? " (Y/N) asked quietly, making Damian sweat a bit.

" Yes. He is the one trying to open up the door. " Damian explained and he wished he could see his face.

" Do you trust them? "(Y/N) asked and everyone glanced at Damian, Jason and Bruce while trying to open or at least remove the big metal door.

" I do. Otherwise I wouldn't have told them about you and came back here with backup... " Damian explained, making (Y/N) smile. Damian couldn't see it, but he knew that (Y/N) must have smiled. Tears welled up in Damian's eyes and he waited for the door to come down so he could finally see his brother.

" You ready Hood? " Bruce asked and Jason nodded, making Damian snap out of his haze. Bruce and Jason pushed the door away, grunting in the process. Damian rushed in, hugging his brother tightly and (Y/N) reciprocated, hugging him tightly.

Damian couldn't hold his tears in anymore. He cried as he held (Y/N) in his arms. (Y/N) couldn't hold back either and two brothers wept together.

The rest? Everyone was shocked. Damian never cried and Jason saw a new side... Maybe with some sort of support, Damian will open up even more. Jason glanced at everyone else and it seems that everyone thought of that.

" I hate to break the moment, but we need to go. " Bruce said, watching as Damian helped (Y/N) up.

" Lets go home (Y/N). You'll love the manor. " Damian said, trying to be positive as they made their way out. " And besides, you'll be more comfortable there. It's not in the city, it's out of the city and you'll get loads of fresh air. " Damian said, giving (Y/N) some hope and hoping to ease him into a new environment once they are back in Gotham.

" Can my room be near yours? " (Y/N) asked, making Damian chuckle and Bruce smiled.

" Of course. Father will make sure of it. " Damian said, making Bruce smile even more.

Of course he will make sure that (Y/N) is more than comfortable in their home. And (Y/N)'s home is now the manor as well.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader

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koiiiji · 1 month ago

Text

crybabies

summary ; Busan's 4 gangs heads know they always can hide behind someone's back...

author's note ; yaaay back from new year's weekends and have a lot of ideas (nobody said it will be fast to deliver it here(im lazy ass))

tw ; major spoilers for Busan arc under the line!!

you were at the center of it all, huge pileup of bodies, arms and heads! your arms wrapped around the younger guys from both Busan and Seoul, trying to hold them all in your protective embrace. Min Jihood leaned into your side, right on your breast, his exhausted face slowly melted into smug grin. his partner, Shin Arim, was there too, his head resting on your lap, while you pet his dark hair tim to time. Park Hyukjin had his arms crossed, not touching you, but sitting close, his stoic expression betraying the tiniest smile as your fingers ruffled his short hair. Hyun Sangjin clung to your other side tightly, nuzzling into your other breast. even Kang Jinchan, pretending to be aloof, leaned closer to your lap, just enough to let your hand brush his shoulder.

somehow even Allied guys had been drawn into your circle as well. the scene was a bizarre, even weird, mix of bruised egos and childlike vulnerability.

“see this?” you said, gesturing to the younger guys nestled around you, your arms extending protectively. your voice was warm as you looked at the group, but as you turned to adults it was a sharp and disapproving. “you underestimated them. all of them! you don’t even think that highly of them, do you? and yet, they fought, bled, and held their own without any of your help.” guys actively nodded their heads in agreement, snuggling closer into you.

Jinrang gang members discontentedly shifted from one foot to the other, refusing to look in your direction. and Jageyon honestly didn't remember how he end up there too, but his usual confidence faltered as he shifted uneasily under your fiery glare.

“they were out here risking their lives while you were…what? twiddling your thumbs? watching from the sidelines?” you continued, the anger in your voice sharp and cutting. “have you forgotten what Sonji used to say about younger ones?”

Jageyon opened his mouth to respond “well, i…”

“well, i,” you mimicked, “think of some better excuse, you half-baked Schumacher.” our voice dripping with sarcasm, as you kept comforting younger guys.

and this is when chaos started. guys from both Seoul and Busan, began poking their fingers toward the older ones, their teary eyes full of exaggerated complaints.

“yeah! where were you mr. Jageyon?!” Hyungseok whined, his voice taking on a rare childish tone as he leaned further into your side.

“they just left us to fight, noona” Shin muttered, his usual tough demeanor crumbling as he pouted slightly. “they think we are just kids and can't solve a problems!”

“it’s not fair,” Sangjin chimed in, his voice trembling for dramatic effect. “they think they are better than us!”

Min joined in too, sniffling as he glared up at you. “right!! noona, and now they just standing around, acting like they’re too good for us!!”

Hyukjin nodded solemnly, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “exactly. what kind of example are they setting?”

your arms tightened around the group, your hands moving to ruffle the nearest heads. “it’s okay, guys,” you cooed, your voice taking on a sisterly warmth. “they can’t say anything now. they know they messed up... making my favourite little boys do a dirty job, fighting each other...” you leaned closed to boys, but not breaking eye contact with older generation. “isn’t that right?”

Jinrang gang members looked visibly uncomfortable under your pointed gaze, slowly nodding. “yes, you are right noona....”

reference ;

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#lookism #x reader #webtoon #content nobody asked for #lookism imagine #webtoon lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism x reader #lookism imagines #lookism fic #shin arim #min jihoon #park hyukjin #hyun sangjin #kang jinchan #na jaegyeon #lookism x you

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newobsessionweekly · 10 months ago

Text

Lost and found

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x undercover!cop!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: You and Tim have a history together, but it took a nearly death experience for Tim to confess.

A/N: Oh, how I love writing for Tim. I don't really have anything to say but I really do love your requests and I will post all of them soon. I have a lot of ideas and I get lost on them, honestly. I absolutely love your support and I'm so grateful for all of you. I'm watching The Rookie for the first time and I'm only halfway the 3rd season so if you have requests related to the following seasons, I will write them when I get there! Feedback is welcome and screw my studying, I'll be taking requests! Be safe and lots of love, bubs! Hope you enjoy this!

Angst | Action | Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of beating, Hurt, Tim having a panic attack, not proofread yet

Requested: No Words: 6.7k GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

Tim's marriage to Isabel was like a storm that swept through his life, leaving destruction in its wake. The scars it left ran deep, etched into his soul and shaping the man he had become. He carried the weight of his failed marriage like a burden, the pain of betrayal and loss weighing heavily on his shoulders.

When you crossed paths with Tim, it was during one of the darkest moments of his life. He was grappling with the aftermath of his divorce, struggling to make sense of the shattered pieces of his heart. But in you, he found a beacon of light amidst the darkness, a steady presence that offered solace and support when he needed it most.

There was an unspoken connection that defied explanation, drawing you closer with each passing day. Despite his efforts to keep you at a distance, you found yourself irresistibly drawn to him, like a compass pointing north, guiding you towards him despite the obstacles in your path.

As your friendship blossomed, so did the feelings that simmered beneath the surface. Tim's past, fraught with pain and heartache, cast a shadow over your burgeoning relationship, leaving you both hovering on the edge of something more yet unable to take the leap.

You became Tim's confidante, his rock in turbulent seas, lending him a shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen as he poured out his pain and anguish. In your unwavering presence, he found a sense of peace he hadn't known in years, a glimmer of hope that perhaps, despite the scars of his past, he could find happiness again.

In the beginning, your relationship was like dancing on the edge of a knife, a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You indulged in the intoxicating allure of each other's company, letting the flames of your past ignite between you and consume you in their fiery embrace.

It was a whirlwind of passion and desire, a fleeting moment of ecstasy that held the promise of something deeper. You reveled in the connection you shared, basking in the warmth of each other's presence and losing yourselves in the depths of our desire.

But as quickly as your fairytale began, it came crashing down around you, shattering the illusion of bliss and leaving you both reeling in its aftermath. Tim's feelings for you burned brighter with each passing moment, threatening to consume him entirely in their fiery intensity.

In a moment of clarity, Tim made the painful decision to cut it off, fearing that he was not good enough for you, that he would only bring you pain and disappointment. He believed he could not protect you from the darkness that lurked in his past, and so he pushed you away, extinguishing the flames of your passion before they could consume you both.

As an undercover cop, your mission was to infiltrate a notorious human trafficking ring that had been plaguing LA for far too long. Posing as a vulnerable young woman seeking refuge from a troubled past, you wormed your way into the inner circle of the criminal organization.

Under the guise of vulnerability and months of play pretend, you gained the trust of your targets, earning a place of significance within their twisted world. But with every step deeper into the belly of the beast, you knew the risks grew greater, the danger more palpable.

Months of gaining the trust of the ring's leader had led to this crucial meeting, where you hoped to finally make a breakthrough. You are supposed to meet one of the important members, to discuss your part. They need you to find vulnerable women, in order to keep their protection. It was a role you had to play convincingly, despite the knot of unease twisting in your stomach.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the parking lot, his voice shattered the air like a thunderclap. "Y/N!"

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of Tim's voice, a flood of memories threatening to overwhelm you. But you couldn't afford to let emotions cloud your judgment now, not when the mission hung in the balance.

"Y/N!" His voice grew closer, each step echoing with the weight of shared history and unspoken emotions. Tim Bradford, the man who had once held your heart in his hands, stood mere feet away, his presence a reminder of a past you had tried so desperately to forget.

You tightened your grip on your resolve, pushing aside the rush of feelings threatening to engulf you. This wasn't the time for sentimentality, not when lives hung in the balance. Ignoring him once more, you pressed on, your determination unyielding.

But then, he called out again, using the undercover name you had adopted for this dangerous game. "Sunny!"

As Tim's footsteps drew nearer, you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. The shock of seeing him here, in the midst of your dangerous undercover operation, sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Tim," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to process the surrealness of the moment.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he took in your appearance, his expression mirroring the mix of emotions swirling inside you. "Y/N," he said, his voice hoarse with surprise and concern. "I... I didn't expect to see you here."

Neither did you. The last person you expected to encounter in the midst of this high-stakes operation was Tim Bradford, the man whose memory had haunted you for so long.

"I can't explain now," you managed to say, your words coming out in a rush as you fought to maintain your composure. "But you need to trust me. It's dangerous, and I can't get you involved."

Tim's brow furrowed in concern, his gaze searching yours for answers. "I trust you," he said quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But Boot and I are here to help."

His words washed over you like a wave of relief, the weight of the situation lifting slightly as you realized you weren't facing this alone. "You're backup?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Tim nodded, his expression unwavering. "Alongside the cops patrolling the streets around this place," he confirmed. "We've got your back."

As you exchanged glances with Tim silently thanking him for being there, Lucy emerged from the shadows, her appearance a stark contrast to the glamour of the restaurant's surroundings. Dressed convincingly as an abused woman, Lucy embodied the role of the vulnerable victim you had concocted for the gang's twisted game.

Her hair, usually sleek and polished, now hung in disarray around her face, strands tangled and unkempt. Makeup expertly applied to mimic bruises and scars adorned her skin, a haunting reminder of the violence she was portraying.

Despite the facade of vulnerability, there was a fire in Lucy's eyes, a fierce determination that belied the submissive persona she portrayed. It was a testament to her strength and resilience, a silent declaration that she would not be easily broken.

As you approached the entrance of the restaurant, you cast a quick glance at Lucy, silently conveying the gravity of the situation. This was your moment, and you had to execute flawlessly.

"Okay, Lucy," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Listen carefully. I'll do the talking. You stay silent unless directly addressed by the right-hand. No showing of doubt, no hesitation. We need this operation to go smoothly."

Lucy nodded, her jaw set with determination as she absorbed your instructions. Despite the nerves flickering in her eyes, she straightened her posture, steeling herself for the task ahead.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Remember," you continued, your tone firm. "We're in control here. Stay focused, and we'll get through this."

Lucy nodded again, a silent promise of her commitment to the plan. "Roger that." she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil roiling inside her.

With the stakes higher than ever, you knew that this undercover operation had to be executed with precision and finesse. As you and Lucy took your seats at the table next to the most important man you can lay hands on, you couldn't shake the feeling that every move had to be calculated, every word chosen carefully.

From your vantage point, you observed the man closely, your senses on high alert as you awaited the perfect opportunity to strike. Across the room, you knew Tim was watching from the shadows, his eyes scanning the scene for any signs of trouble.

The man's scrutinizing gaze fell upon Lucy, his eyes assessing her with a predatory gleam. "And who might this be?" he inquired, his tone slick with suspicion.

Taking a deep breath, you tell the man everything as practiced. "This is Lucy," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging within you. "She's... she's been trapped in a nightmare with an abusive husband."

Lucy nodded, her eyes casting down as if reliving the horrors of her past. The man leaned back in his chair, a calculating glint in his eyes. "And you think we can help you with that?" he asked, amusement dancing in his voice.

You nodded eagerly, seizing the opportunity to steer the conversation in your favor. "You have resources, connections... You could help Lucy start over, away from her husband."

As Tim listened intently to the conversation unfolding before him, a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that washed over him, knowing that he was unable to intervene directly without blowing your cover. All he could do was watch and wait, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and frustration.

The man's lips curled into a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Of course," he said smoothly. "We can take care of her. Provide her with a safe place to stay. We have a room prepared at Bates."

Bates motel was an important piece of the puzzle, where they would take the girls and force them to practice commercial sex in exchange for the protection they provide. The girls usually don't stay there longer than a couple of days before they fly to different countries outside US. Rich countries filled with desperate men that would pay fortunes for the girls.

As the name of the motel fell from the man's lips, Lucy's breath caught in her throat, fear flashing across her features. The plan was that both of you to be taken to the motel and gather some information for the FBI so that they'll be able to arrest them. But someone failed to explain Lucy all the details.

The man's gaze narrowed, suspicion flickering in his eyes as he noticed her reaction. "What's wrong with her?" he demanded, his tone sharp.

Feeling the weight of Lucy's panic, you subtly reached out and gently squeezed her hand under the table, offering her reassurance. With a quick glance in her direction, you flashed her a smile, hoping to convey a sense of calm amidst the storm.

Tim feared for your safety, knowing all too well the dangers you faced in the heart of the gang's operations. Lucy's anxiety only heightened his own, sending a surge of tension coursing through his veins.

You fought to mask your own rising panic, your mind racing for an explanation that would satisfy his curiosity. "She's just... scared," you said quickly, your voice tinged with urgency. "She thought she'd left the state tonight, but... but she's worried her husband might find her."

As the conversation with the man continued, you maintained a careful facade of composure, all the while silently reassuring Lucy that you were in this together.

The man's gaze softened slightly, a hint of understanding in his eyes. "I see," he said, his tone gentler now. "Well, there's no need to worry. She'll be safe here with the other girls until the plane is ready to take off for Italy."

As several armed men approached the table, their presence casting a menacing shadow over the already tense atmosphere, the right hand of the leader spoke with authority. "It's time to move her to the motel," he declared, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Panic surged within you as you exchanged a worried glance with Lucy, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on both of you. You couldn't bear the thought of letting Lucy face this alone, knowing the danger that awaited her at the hands of the gang.

Desperation fueled your next words as you pleaded with the man to let you accompany Lucy. "Please," you begged, your voice trembling with fear. "Let me go with her. I can't... I can't let her alone, I promise I wouldn't leave her alone."

But the man's expression remained cold and impassive, unmoved by your plea. "I don't give a fuck about your promises. Only one of you," he insisted firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "It'll look suspicious if both of you go missing. The police might decide to crash our little party."

As the tension in the room reached its peak, Tim could no longer stand idly by. With a sense of urgency coursing through him, he rose from his seat and approached the table, his expression a mask of desperation.

"Lucy, there you are!" Tim's voice rang out, thick with emotion as he stepped into the role of her abusive husband. "I have looked for you everywhere. I can't lose you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

His words echoed off the walls of the restaurant, each syllable laced with genuine anguish as he pleaded with Lucy to come back to him. It was a performance born out of necessity, a last-ditch effort to salvage their plan and get Lucy safely out of the operation.

With practiced precision, Tim threw himself into the role, his voice cracking with emotion as he pleaded with Lucy to come back to him.

"Please, Lucy," he begged, his eyes brimming with tears. "I love you. I'll do anything to make it right. Just... come home."

As Tim's performance unfolded, Lucy's eyes widened in surprise, her initial panic giving way to understanding as she realized the ruse they were playing. With a silent nod of agreement, you played along.

With a heavy sigh, you made a split-second decision. "I'll go," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have family or anyone who would ask questions."

For a moment, silence falling upon you, the weight of your and Tim's words hanging heavy in the air. Then, slowly, tentatively, Lucy nodded, her resolve crumbling in the face of Tim's impassioned plea.

With a sense of relief washing over him, Tim gathered Lucy in his arms, holding her tightly as if afraid she might slip away. Together, they made their way out of the restaurant, leaving behind the facade they had constructed and the danger that had threatened to engulf them.

As the gravity of your decision settled over you, a sense of resignation washed over you. You knew that by sacrificing yourself, you were placing yourself directly in harm's way.

As the right-hand man of the leader was convinced by your offer to accompany him, he swiftly led you out of the restaurant, ignoring the chaos unfolding. With each step towards his car, a sense of urgency gnawed at your insides.

As Tim and Lucy hurried to Tim's car, Lucy's concern for your safety was palpable. "We have to go after them," she urged. "She could be in danger."

But Tim remained resolute, his jaw clenched with determination. "She knows what she's doing," he insisted, though the worry in his eyes betrayed his facade of confidence. "She's been trained for this and been in these situations before. We can't risk blowing her cover, especially when the motel is our only lead."

Lucy's brow furrowed in frustration. "But Tim, the motel is a front for prostitution," she argued, her voice tinged with desperation. "What if they force her into something she can't handle?"

Tim's resolve wavered at her words, a pang of guilt gnawing at his conscience. He knew she was right—no lead was worth the risk of putting you in danger. With a heavy sigh, he relented. "Okay," he said reluctantly. "We'll go after her. But we'll keep our distance until the FBI does their job and have the suspects in custody."

As the car sped down the darkened streets, fear coiled like a serpent in your chest, tightening its grip with every passing moment. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon you, the reality of going alone with the dangerous man sinking in with a bone-chilling certainty.

You knew the stakes were high, the danger palpable as you faced the unknown. The plan crafted by the FBI had hinged on both you and Lucy going to the motel together, creating a scenario that would make it nearly impossible for the gang and their leader to mask your disappearances. But now, with you isolated and vulnerable, the gang could easily fabricate a motive for your sudden absence, erasing all traces of your existence without a second thought.

As Tim's car raced through the streets of Los Angeles in pursuit of the vehicle carrying you and one of the most wanted men, a whirlwind of emotions churned within him. Fear gnawed at his gut, a relentless reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond the horizon.

But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, something else stirred within Tim—a spark of recognition, a flicker of something long buried beneath the surface. Seeing you again after all these years reignited a fire within him, flooding his mind with memories of your shared past.

In that moment, Tim realized with a jolt that the feelings he had buried deep down inside him were still very much alive. Despite the passage of time, despite the distance that had grown between you, his heart still beat for you, aching with a longing he had long tried to suppress.

As the realization settled in, Tim knew with a fierce certainty that he had to protect you, no matter the cost. Desperation gripped him, driving him forward with a single-minded determination to ensure your safety.

Tim and Lucy sat in the car, and Lucy couldn't help but notice the distant look in Tim's eyes. "So, how do you know Y/N?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Tim's gaze flickered to Lucy, a hint of sadness shadowing his features. "We go way back," he replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "She's been there for me through some tough times."

Lucy nodded, sensing there was more to the story. "Tough times?" she pressed, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Tim sighed, his gaze drifting to the darkened windows of the car. "When Isabel left," he began, his voice trailing off. "Y/N was there for me. She helped me through."

A pang of sympathy tugged at Lucy's heart as she listened to Tim's confession. "You said 'was'. What happened?" she asked gently, her voice filled with empathy.

Tim's expression grew somber, a weight settling upon his shoulders. "I... I pushed her away," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was in a dark place, and I was afraid I couldn't protect her, couldn't love her properly."

A heavy silence hung between them as Lucy absorbed Tim's words, a sense of sadness washing over her. "Do you regret it?" she asked softly, her gaze searching his face for answers.

"It's not something I want to discuss." he snapped, his tone laced with frustration.

Lucy persisted, her voice gentle yet insistent. "Tim, I just want to understand."

"Yes I regret it because I loved her and I still do. And tonight I left my feelings get the best of me, being here is not right. Now take this as a lesson and don't be me."

Lucy hesitated, sensing Tim's walls closing in around him. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice laced with sympathy. "I didn't mean to pry."

As the FBI descended upon the motel, Tim's heart pounded with a mixture of hope and dread. He watched anxiously from his car as the agents swarmed the building, their movements swift and decisive.

But as the suspects were handcuffed and led away, there was no sign of you among them. Panic surged through Tim's veins as he realized you were nowhere to be found. With a sense of urgency, he flung open the car door and hurried towards the motel, his footsteps echoing in the deserted parking lot.

Each room he passed seemed to blur together, a maze of empty spaces and unanswered prayers. Desperation clawed at Tim's chest as he searched frantically for any sign of you, his heart hammering in his ears.

But as he reached the end of the corridor, a hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. Tim turned to see one of the FBI officers standing behind him, his expression grim.

"We've searched every room," the officer said, his voice heavy with regret. "There's no sign of her."

Tim's breath caught in his throat, a cold wave of fear washing over him. "But she has to be here," he insisted, his voice hoarse with emotion."She was here."

The FBI officer shook his head, sympathy evident in his eyes."We tried to contact her," he explained. "But there was no response. We got worried ourselves, so we barged in. But she's not here."

As the FBI agents stormed the motel and chaos erupted around you, a surge of relief washed over you. But before you could fully grasp what was happening, one of the suspects grabbed you and dragged you away, their grip like iron around your arm.

Panic surged through you as you realized you were being taken against your will, your heart racing with fear and uncertainty. With each passing moment, the distance between you and safety seemed to grow, your hopes of escape dwindling with each step.

Soon, you found yourself standing before the waiting plane, its engines roaring to life in the darkness of the night. Desperation clawed at your chest, your hands steady as you carefully withdrew your gun from its holster. Each movement was deliberate, each breath measured, as you aimed the weapon at the men who held you captive.

With a steely resolve, you squared your shoulders and met their gaze head-on, your finger poised on the trigger. "LAPD, you are under arrest" you declared, your voice firm and commanding as you held up your badge for them to see.

The men's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden display of authority, but their expressions quickly hardened into sneers of defiance. "Funny" one of them scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. "Cop or not, you're still a bitch and I have to honor a promise."

As the men closed in on you, their faces contorted with rage and desperation, you fought back with all the strength you could muster. But outnumbered, you were no match for their brute force. With a swift motion, one of them snatched the gun from your grasp, leaving you defenseless and vulnerable.

Panic surged through you as they dragged you towards the waiting plane, their grip like vice around your arms. Desperation clawed at your chest as you struggled against them, throwing punches and kicks in a desperate bid for freedom.

But it was no use. As the men wrestled you to the ground, their blows raining down upon you with merciless force, you felt the last vestiges of consciousness slipping away.

Through the haze of pain and confusion, you heard their voices, cold and indifferent.

"It's not worth the risk," one of them muttered, his tone resigned. "We need to leave her behind."

With a final, brutal blow, the man who had taken you from the motel left you lying on the ground, battered and broken. As he turned and headed towards the waiting plane, boarding without a second glance, you were left alone in the darkness, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness.

As the sound of the plane's engines faded into the distance, you closed your eyes, the world spinning around you.

As the moments stretched into eternity and the reality of your disappearance sank in, Tim's heart pounded with a mixture of fear and frustration. With trembling hands, he fumbled for his radio, his voice tight with urgency as he called for backup.

"Dispatch, this is Officer Bradford," he said, his voice taut with tension. "We have a missing officer. I repeat, we have a missing officer. Requesting immediate backup."

As he waited for a response, a whirlwind of emotions churned within him—fear, anger, desperation. The thought of you out there, alone and in danger, sent a chill down his spine. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, each moment stretching on endlessly as he prayed for some sign of hope.

As Lucy rushed to Tim's side, her eyes wide with concern, she could see the tension etched into every line of his face. "Tim, what's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling with worry.

Tim took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to compose himself. "It's Y/N," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "She's gone."

Lucy's eyes widened in shock. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?" she demanded, her voice rising with panic.

Tim's jaw clenched, he struggled to find the words to convey the gravity of the situation. "I searched every room in that motel," he began, his voice strained with emotion. "But she wasn't there. FBI told me they couldn't find her either."

As the police officers arrived one by one, their flashing lights cutting through the darkness of the night, Sergeant Grey emerged from the crowd, his face grave with concern. "What's the situation, Bradford?" he asked, his voice commanding as he approached Tim.

Tim opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, his phone his phone rang, the screen lighting up with your name.

All eyes turned to him as he answered the call, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of fear and relief. "Hey, are you okay? Where are you?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he put the call on speaker.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before you spoke, your voice strained with pain. "I don't know where I am," you admitted, your words punctuated by a sharp intake of breath. "One of the suspects took me when the FBI barged in."

Tim's grip tightened on the phone as he listened, his heart sinking with each word. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice trembling with worry.

You hesitated, a soft hiss of pain escaping between your teeth. "Yeah," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think so."

Sergeant Grey's voice cut through the tension, his tone firm and decisive. "Keep her on the line, Bradford," he instructed, his gaze focused and unwavering. "We need to track her location."

With a nod of determination, Tim focused all his attention on the call, his heart heavy with worry for you.

As Tim desperately sought answers, his voice quivered with worry. "Can you hear me?" he asked, his words tinged with desperation. "Are you still there?"

But there was no response, only the eerie silence of the line. Panic clawed at his chest as the silence stretched on, broken only by the faint sound of your labored breathing.

Tears pricked at Tim's eyes as he realized that you had lost consciousness. "Hang in there," he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "We're coming for you."

With a heavy heart, Tim stayed on the line, his every breath a prayer for your safety.

But finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sergeant Grey's voice broke through the silence. "We've got her location," he said, his tone filled with relief. "Let's move."

The urgency of the situation weighed heavily on his mind. Every second felt like an perpetuity, each passing moment filled with the agonizing uncertainty of not knowing if you were safe.

Tim's knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, his foot pressing down hard on the accelerator, propelling the car forward at breakneck speed. The world outside blurred into a whirlwind of colors and lights as they sped through the night, the roar of the engine drowning out all other sounds.

But amidst the chaos and urgency, Tim's thoughts were consumed by you. Memories of your time together flooded his mind, each one a painful reminder of what was at stake. His heart ached with the fear of losing you, his mind plagued by visions of what could happen if they didn't reach you in time.

As he stole a glance at Lucy in the passenger seat, he saw the same fear mirrored in her eyes. They shared a silent understanding, a mutual determination to do whatever it took to bring you home safely.

With each passing mile, Tim's emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Fear, anger, and desperation warred within him, his every nerve on edge as they hurtled towards your location.

But above all else, there was love. Love for you, burning bright and fierce in his heart, driving him forward with an unyielding determination to see you safe and sound once more.

As they reached the aerodrome, Tim's heart pounded in his chest with a mixture of fear and anticipation. With a single-minded focus, he bolted from the car, his senses heightened as he scanned the area for any sign of you.

But as he raced through the darkness, his heart froze in his chest at the sight before him. There, lying motionless on the ground, was a figure bathed in the dim light of the aerodrome. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Tim's breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling with a thousand different fears.

As he drew closer, his worst fears were realized. It was you, lying there on the ground, your form still and silent. A wave of anguish washed over Tim as he fell to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as he reached out to searched for signs of life.

Gently, he pressed his fingers against your neck, praying for the faintest hint of a pulse. Relief flooded through him as he felt the faint throb beneath his touch, a small glimmer of hope in the darkness.

With trembling hands, Tim reached for the radio, his voice steady as he relayed the news. "This is Officer Bradford," he said, his voice ringing out through the static. "I've found Agent Y/L/N. Breathing, not conscious, in critical condition. Requesting an ambulance at my location."

As he waited for the ambulance to arrive, Tim cradled you in his arms, his heart aching at the sight of you lying so still and pale. "Hang in there," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Help is on the way. You're going to be okay."

But as he spoke, he could see the flicker of consciousness in your eyes, the struggle to stay awake evident in the lines of your face. "Stay with me," he urged, his voice desperate. "I'm here, look at me."

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, Tim's voice washed over you like a soothing balm, his words a lifeline in the darkness. With each fleeting moment of clarity, you felt his presence beside you, his warmth a comforting anchor in the storm.

Desperate for any sign of response, he poured his heart out to you, his words a raw outpouring of emotion.

"I need you to fight, Y/N," he pleaded, his voice trembling with desperation. "I need you to come back to me. I can't do this without you. I know I'm not perfect and I know I was so stupid to push you away."

Tears welled in Tim's eyes as he confessed his deepest fears and insecurities, his voice cracking with emotion. "I love you," he whispered, his words hanging in the air like a fragile thread. "I've loved you for so long, and I can't bear the thought of losing you again. "

But as he spoke, there was no response, no flicker of recognition in your eyes. Panic clawed at Tim's chest as he watched you lie there, so still and silent, his heart breaking with each passing moment.

"Please, Y/N," he begged, his voice raw with anguish. "Don't leave me."

And as the ambulance arrived and the paramedics rushed to your side, Tim held onto you tightly, unwilling to let go. With each passing moment, his love for you grew stronger, a beacon of light in the midst of the storm.

As they loaded you onto the stretcher and whisked you away, Tim vowed to never leave your side and as the ambulance sped towards the hospital, his hand tightly clasped in yours, he watched over you with unwavering devotion. Inside the vehicle, the paramedics worked tirelessly to stabilize your condition, their urgent voices a constant presence in the cramped space.

"We need immediate assistance," one paramedic called out, their tone urgent. "Prepare the OR and alert the medical team."

Tim's heart pounded in his chest as he listened, his mind reeling with fear and confusion. "What's happening?" he asked, his voice trembling with anxiety.

"We're losing her," one paramedic radioed to the hospital, their voice strained with desperation. "Patient is experiencing severe hypotension, tachycardia, and respiratory distress."

Tim's brow furrowed in confusion as he struggled to make sense of the medical jargon. "What does that mean?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear.

As the hours ticked by in the dimly lit waiting room of the hospital, Tim sat alone, his thoughts consumed by worry and fear. The minutes stretched into eternity as he waited for news of your condition, each passing moment feeling like an eternity.

One by one, his colleagues began to arrive, their presence a welcome comfort in the midst of his turmoil.

First was Lucy, her footsteps hesitant as she entered the room, her eyes filled with concern as she approached Tim's side. Next came Nyla alongside Nolan, his expression solemn as his hand resting reassuringly on Tim's shoulder.

Angela followed suit, her steps purposeful as she made her way towards Tim, her eyes filled with understanding. "Hey," she said softly, her voice gentle as she settled into the chair beside him. "I came as fast as I could. I'm so sorry."

Tim looked up, gratitude flickering in his eyes as he met Angela's gaze. In that moment, he was reminded of the countless times she had been there for him, both on and off duty. Their friendship had weathered its share of storms, but through it all, Angela had remained a steadfast presence in his life.

"Thanks, Lopez," Tim replied, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm glad you're here."

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to the sight of Tim seated beside you, his features softened in sleep. He looked tired, yet peaceful, his handsome face illuminated by the soft glow of the hospital room.

You couldn't help but admire the tranquility that washed over him, the lines of worry smoothed away in slumber. Despite the exhaustion that lingered beneath his closed lids, there was a sense of calmness that enveloped him, making him appear more beautiful than ever before.

His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the gentle cadence of his breaths filling the room with a soothing melody. His tousled hair framed his face in a disheveled halo, adding to his rugged charm.

As you watched him, a rush of warmth flooded your chest, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. Despite the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded you, there was a sense of peace that settled over you in his presence.

But as the beeping of the heart rate monitor broke the silence, jolting Tim awake, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. The fleeting moment of intimacy you had shared was gone, replaced once again by the harsh reality of your circumstances.

And yet, as Tim's eyes met yours, there was a flicker of something in his gaze, a spark of recognition that spoke volumes.

You blinked away the remnants of sleep and offered a sheepish smile to Tim. "Sorry," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Tim's gaze softened as he looked at you, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's okay," he said softly, his voice warm with affection. "I'm just glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

You paused for a moment, taking stock of your surroundings before answering. "Sore," you admitted, wincing slightly as you shifted in the hospital bed. "But I think I'll survive."

Tim chuckled softly, reaching out, to squeeze your hand in a silent gesture of reassurance. "That's good to hear," he said, his voice filled with relief. "I was worried about you."

You nodded in understanding, gratitude swelling in your chest at his concern. "Did they catch them?" you asked, your voice filled with apprehension.

Tim nodded, a determined glint in his eyes. "Yeah," he replied, his tone firm. "The Italian police arrested all of them. The girls are safe, thanks to you."

Relief flooded through you at his words, knowing that your efforts had not been in vain. "That's good," you said softly, a weight lifting from your shoulders.

Tim's expression softened, a proud smile gracing his lips. "They won't get away with it," he said confidently. "Not after they nearly killed the most badass cop."

"You were scared, weren't you?" you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes as you looked at Tim.

"Hey now, I wasn't scared," he protested, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Just... concerned. You know, professional courtesy and all that."

You rolled your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. "Sure," you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Admit it, Bradford, you were terrified."

As Tim leaned back in his chair, a playful glint danced in his eyes. "Hey now, don't go getting a big head just because you survived," he teased, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I was scared about you, okay? But can you blame me? You were practically on death's door."

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Oh please," you retorted, feigning indignation. "I've been in worse scrapes than that. Besides, it's not every day I get to see you in full-on hero mode."

Tim's cheeks flushed slightly at your words, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Well, I was just doing my job," he said, trying to play it cool.

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Right," you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because confessing your love to a near-death colleague is all part of the job description, huh?"

"Can we please forget that part?" Tim pleaded.

You shook your head, unable to suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. "Never," you replied, a teasing lilt to your voice. "I had to almost die so you could tell me you love me. It's a hell of a story for the grandkids."

Tim's eyes widened, a playful smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, we're having grandkids now, huh?" he quipped, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "Not until you kiss me," you countered, a playful challenge in your voice. "Are you gonna do that, or shall I go out there and nearly die again?"

Tim's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as he chuckled softly, a fondness shining in his eyes. "Oh, shut up," he muttered playfully, leaning in closer to you.

And then, without another word, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a tender, passionate kiss. As the world fell away around you, all that mattered was the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips against yours, and the overwhelming sense of love that filled your heart.

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