#Alfred pennyworth x reader

[reveluving]

mini batmom thought of the day (& the first of '25!):

warnings: pure fluff! (because I especially need it rn lol)

check out my batmom m.list!

batmom's laugh filling the manor as she watches some funny random videos, unaware that her family coincidentally came back home from school/work/shady-jason-shit and is greeted by your sounds of joy!

there must be crack in your laugh, cause somehow, you got the entire family sitting and laughing with you—bruce has you resting against his chest, cass against your side while you wrap one arm around her. the littlest guy, matt's between you and your husband.

dick's sitting on the left arm of the couch, whereas duke's doing the same on the right.

jason prefers to stand behind the couch (I'm sweatin' ma), still wanting to watch a minute or two of the video. terry, too, standing next to him with his arms crossed, his amusement matching jason's.

for some reason, tim and damian are fighting for the spot closest to you, which was on the floor, rather than the two other literally lush and expensive seats left in the room.

"boys." bruce reprimanded them lightly, forcing the two to share the spot instead. duke did the courtesy of throwing them a couple of pillows for their comfort.

alfred came in minutes later, placing the tray of his famous cookies and tea on the table before taking a seat on the single-seater. he occasionally glances at the moment before him, like a grandfather reminiscing about how he knew exactly when life was going to get better for the waynes.

overall: batmom a day keeps the depression away 🤌🏻

[nikovraskol]

Crack baby is very *chief kiss*🤌

I wonder if MC knows that legally they can't live alone as a minor without the involvement of an adult? Like you can do that at 16 but for this to be legal you still need a legal guardian and to get an ok from the government by giving a good reason like your parents working out of the country and you stay for school.

If I was MC I'd not ask because Bruce will not care enough to think of a good lie to give the government (but also he can just pay the right people)

Also what would happen if MC didn't ask for money for the House? Will Bruce tell them that he decided to move their room to the family wing? What else will he want to talk about? And how will he react to MC refusing to move rooms calmly and saying that they are who moved that room that that section (it can be a lie) and that they prefer the quite.

Alfred finding that he has more work to do, and also gets worried that you saddenly don't want to be close to the family

you're very perceptive anon, i do have plans regarding mc's age and all that jazz

masterlist

but if mc weren't too ask bruce for money, let's say you convienently had enough money saved up or you had a friend to stay with, you would likely leave silently.

you pack their bags and dip, just like that. of course, alfred would be the first to notice and he would be absolutely devastated! he cares for mc like a child and you just left without a word!! but not to worry, he's sure you'll be back, evident by the way the family reacts.

just -- don't be surprised by how closely he lingers when you're back, he must make sure you don't do anything rash anymore.

slowly but surely, the manor would become strangely silence, a lack of a presence that nobody can put their finger on what's changed .. i mean, they didn't take notice of you anyway so it's not like they'd suddenly realise straight away.

it's definetly damian who notices first .. he takes a walk around your room hoping to bump into you and (see you) remind you how useless you are.. but there's a silence around your room that puts him on edge.

he's completely disgruntled when he realises you've gone! blasphemous! how could this be?

he then tells bruce, who is just as perplexed -- how did you leave? you're a child! way too young to survive gotham alone. he then recruits the others and they track you down with ease ! you're obviously upset -- who do they think they are? they suddenly want to take interest in you now? after all that's happened.

like, you'd probably be casually lounging around, doing what you do and you turn your head and there's a family gathering in your room.. except they don't look too pleased.

you can cry as much as you want, kick, scream -- they'll take you back, you felt neglected, right? that's why you left, don't worry. they'll take care of you, just don't try running away again, yeah?

as for mc refusing to move wings.. that's really interesting to me because it opens up so many possiblities.

first of all, you refusing just adds to bruce's guilt. he takes it less as you being resentful and more-so you being scared, it adds to his image of you being some helpless, naive fool.

he'll probably relent for a week, but the image of you stuck in your room, crying alone has him clutching his hair until he can't take it and he'll just move u in ur sleep.

you go to sleep peacefully in your little box room only to wake up in some fancy, way too big room that has you gaping in shock -- you're obviously pissed off, where does he get off treating you like a child!

he sighs whenever you kick and scream, gently soothing you much to your chagrin. he'll change his plan from dropping in every once in a while to every single day.

he sees you as a child, so each time you shout at him, telling him you no longer want his attention, that you're not a child -- it just adds to his helpless image of you !!

there's nothing you can do now, there's no moving out or running away, because as soon as bruce sets his eyes on you, so does everyone else.

you're stuck, poor you, but don't worry, with bruce holding your hand you don't have anything you need to wish for! isn't that great?

[cybergoth1]

beyond the cowl | chapter 01 | batfamily x isekaide!reader

masterlist | prologue | chapter 02.

summary: you're just a normal twenty-one-year old girl trying to navigate life with a shitty job and a useless degree. life isn't easy, and between expensive therapy sessions and the constant feeling of failure, you suddenly wake up in a body that wasn't yours, with a past that wasn't yours. now, in another dimension, you're dealing with the fact that you're a crucial part of the caped crusade that shaped bruce wayne's life. you're the second robin, the former girl wonder, and the vigilant gotham needed so much.

warnings/tags: swearing. avoiding body descriptions like the plague. the bat boys being themselves. there's a tiny reference to 'nightwing: year one'.

When you woke up for the second time, the room was already shrouded in complete darkness, with only faint slivers of light slipping through the loosely drawn curtains. Your head felt heavy, and your ears rang as you slowly opened your eyes, wearily gazing at the white ceiling. The soft silk fabric against your skin felt like a warm embrace as you took a deep breath, trying to use your rational side to keep yourself from panicking again.

The tips of your fingers glided over the sheets, seeking the softness of it as you tried to organize your scattered thoughts. You were in Gotham — the shittiest place in the entire world, at least in DC’s fictional universe.

Fucking Gotham. Batman's Gotham. Joker's Gotham.

Out of nowhere, you found yourself missing the sagging, cheap mattress that made your back ache every night. You looked into the darkness around you and longed for your tiny, shared bedroom at your mom’s place.

Summoning strength from an unknown place, you decided to get out of bed and blindly search for the light switch in the room, as you had no idea where your phone was. Your left hand found the switch, and as you pressed it, the light momentarily blinded you until your eyes adjusted to the brightness.

The bedroom was huge, like, the size of your mom's whole apartment. But what truy left you speechless were the stunning detalis: your favorite color was painted on the walls, the bookshelves near the bed were crafted from fine wood, the exquisite furniture was strategically placed near the big windows, and the king-sized bed sat perfectly in the center of the room. The sheets were a soft pastel pink, and you were certain the curtains were made of linen.

A small section of the wall filled with Polaroids caught your attention more than anything else in the room, drawing you closer to the photos that decorated the space in a way that would have thrilled your sixteen-year-old self. It was you— your face, your hair, your smile, your body captured in those photos. Your face, repeated countless times, revelead a reality you coudn't believe was true.

Your eyes scanned through the photos, and you tried to count in your mind how many faces you could recognize with your limited knowledge of the universe that had swallowed you without asking for permission. One photo stood out— one of you next to Barbara Gordon and Stephanie Brown. The three of you were baking a massive cake for, apparently, Tim's birthday on the manor's kitchen while Alfred stood in the corner, tidying up the mess.

Perhaps, in this strange version of your life, you were a Batgirl, just like they once were at some point. But your hypothesis was immediately disproved when you saw a photo of yourself, probably around thirteen or fourteen years old, sloppily gripping a trapeze while a teenage Dick Grayson demonstrated the correct way to hold on from his position on the ground. At the bottom of the photo, you could see the cursive writing standing out: 'Girl Wonder working out for the first time'.

Ok, so you used to be Robin.

You were definitely no longer a kid or a teenager based on the last pictures— your days of wearing green shorts and pixie boots were probably long behind you. But if you weren't Robin anymore, then what were you? And if you were Robin at one point in this weird timeline, did that mean you were an orphan, adopted by Bruce Wayne?

Was he your father, or something close to it? Were you his ward? Wait, holy shit, how old are you here? You touched your face, feeling despair slowly creeping in and spreading through your body like poison. It wasn't long before your shaky feet carried you to the bathroom, the door partially concealed between the bookshelves.

You were finally facing the mirror, yet your eyes remained fixed on your hands.

Then courage took hold of you, and you finally looked at yourself in the mirror on impulse. Oh, wow. The girl who stared back at you looked more like a grown woman than anything else—her face slightly more mature than yours and strikingly beautiful, almost breathtaking. There were no pimples or acne marks, not a single blemish marred her flawless skin and perfect hair. Perfect teeth, cute dimples and pretty lips. It was almost uncanny how beautiful you appeared, still carrying most of your familiar traits.

The girl in the mirror smirked at you, her expression a mix of snobbishness and boredom. She seemed to despise you in some way.

"You look like a trust fund baby," you said, her lips moving and her brow furrowing as you talked.

That was you.

She was you.

You looked down at the countertop, avoiding her magnetic gaze. Your vision was immediately assaulted by the sheer number of expensive skincare products—each one seeming like it could cost you a kidney.

"So you're— we're disgustingly rich now, hm? La Mer, Dior, La Prairie..."

You both locked eyes again.

"Who are you?" you felt like you both were wondering the same thing.

This time, you weren’t gentle in your search for answers. You opened drawers, the closet, and designer bags, rifling through everything until you felt satisfied. The noise of things crashing to the floor was so loud that you could hear curious murmurs and footsteps on the other side of the door.

A huge smile spread across your face as you realized what you'd found. Thank God she was the nostalgic type— at the bottom of her big closet, behind some Hermes bags, you found a box full of old newspapers. Some headlines excitedly reported the debut of the first Girl Wonder many years ago. Hum, she— you looked surprisingly confident in those ridiculous green shorts and cape. But is the next newspaper in the huge pile that finally put an end to your curiosity and anguish.

You're new name is Blackwing. Fucking stupid. You frowned as you read more about your alter ego. Blackwing apparently operated in Gotham and, sometimes, out of New Jersey — there were some New York and Delaware newspapers in the pile, reporting your involvement in the drop in local crime. Your curious eyes studied the imposing figure on the first page.

Blackwing's red cowl covered her entire head, leaving only her eyes, nose, and mouth exposed— something that remind you of Batman's own suit. Speaking of suits, hers was red with black accents, leaving you to wonder if it was leotard beneath all the layers. The overall design gave her a very menacing look, you bet it wasn't a big hit with the kids.

Inside the old box, you also found a phone, saddly not yours, and quickly unlocked using facial ID. You wasted no time and searched Blackwing across several platforms.

In just six minutes goggling, you found a lot of things.

They called you the “woman without fear” because you were insanely brutal during your patrols, — at least that’s what the Gotham Times and Gotham Gazette liked to put in their headlines — madly sending petty thieves and thugs to the nearest ICU with your aggressive blows and merceless punches. Damn, you were like a demon seeking blood, an unmedicated demon it seemed, running from rooftop to rooftop, terrorizing the city’s criminals and sometimes the poor civilians.

You cringed, shrinking into your clothes while reading a Reddit post about the last time you damaged a whole-ass bulding fighting with Clayface on Gotham’s main street. How does insurance work in a world full of crazy people — some of them with superpowers — damaging property on a daily basis? Who’s paying for this shitshow?

Wait, how are you even taking punches like that, being thrown against walls and floors without dying on the spot? You thought with widew eyes while watching yourself being tossed around the street like a ragdoll by Bane in Twitter — a total dead weight in his massive hands.

You heard a soft knock at the door, followed by Alfred's voice.

"Miss, I trust your room is now renovated to your satisfaction," he said almost smiling, subtly alluding to all the noise you had been making. "But dinner is served".

"Oh—" you said surprised, putting the newspaper and the old phone back on the box. "Yeah, yeah, sure".

Shit.

Dinner. Probably with Bruce and Damian. Maybe Tim and Dick if you were totally unlucky tonight. You swallowed hard, realizing you were about to share a table with the world’s greastest detectives—without knowing almost anything about the life you technically shared with them. You're fucked.

"I'm fucked, I'm totally fucked" you muttered as you walked down the grand staircase, trying not to let the manor’s luxury overwhelm you and distract you from staying alert.

Near the dining room, you heard a voice calling you by your last name.

Thank God—at least that was the same as in your old life. You slowly turned your body, and Damian Wayne’s green eyes met yours, showing something closer to boredom. Great.

"Father said I shouldn't have been so rough with you during training earlier".

Training?

"And, naturally, I told him It was entirely fault of your chronic stupidity and lack of motor coordination," he added, his tone drippring with condescension.

You couldn’t let that slide. You looked down at him—you were at least five inches taller.

"You've got too much attitude for someone your size. What are you? Four?"

Damian looked like an angry cat, ready to tear your face off. He called you an 'unworthy opponent,' as if he were a knight in a Game of Thrones episode, then stormed off to sit at the table with an ugly scowl.

That weird ass kid needed an iPad.

"Don’t provoke her, Dami. You know how mean she gets without her eight hours of sleep."

Dick Grayson showed up, blessing you with his perfect white teeth and baby blue eyes. You watched him ruffle Damian's hair while the boy protested loudly.

"What are you even doing here, Grayson?' he said, slapping his hand away. You couldn’t help but notice his large biceps and broad shoulders, so you decided your nails were suddenly very interesting.

"Babs tracked down a Blüdhaven gang warehouse. They're hiding illegal weapons in Gotham."

You felt his gaze on you, followed by a hand resting on your left shoulder. He looked at you with warm eyes.

"Nice to see you back on your feet, little wing," he said, friendly patting your shoulder as you melted on the spot. Little wing?

'Hush, little wing. We're the stealthy ones, remember?'

Before your eyes, you could almost see and feel the fabricated memory surfacing—the memory of a body and a life that weren’t truly yours. It was the first time you teamed up, three weeks after you took on the Robin mantle. Dick listened to your constant chatter while you two tried to rescue some hostages. He didn't make you feel like a dumb kid in a costume — more like his cool sidekick.

Analyzing the timeline, you’re definitely the second Robin. Bruce probably took you in a few months after Dick moved out — both from Wayne Manor and from his role as Robin — leading to the older man's empty nest crisis.

But what could someone like you have done to impress someone like the Dark Knight?

You made a mental note to search more later and then gave Dick a smile.

"Glad to be back".

tag-list: @rosescarlettx, @btsloveer07-blog, @rainbowstar, @xingyunny, @mikyapixie, @sheep-from-rad, @fandomly-obsessed, @migilore, @natsukicookies, @candlewitch-cryptic, @socialmess-jery, @mona1704, @dieforcoffee26, @stupouid, @astrelz, @dind1n, @cxcilla, @mimi-sanisanidiot, @ceridwyn3, @sunako50, @lilithquillete, @rainbowstar, @ninihrtss, @dind1n, @blondwhxrewrites, @rosiita-fresita, @lovely-maryj, @vxsire

[eupheme]

I haven’t been able to write much this year but I have been doing some crafting & drawing, so I thought I’d share something I put together recently 💕 I’ve wanted to use my penguin templates on a bind, so it felt fitting to try it on my first long fic!

I am still learning so there’s definitely a couple things I’d fix but it’s still amazing to physically hold a fic! And I love how the inside & outside covers/pages turned out.

penny for your thoughts | written, designed & bound by me

[stargirlfics]

sweet as silk, just like lavender

Alfred Pennyworth can’t keep his hands off you even if he tried

1.3k words - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: semi-public sexual acts, exhibitionism

from this ask prompt: alfred being obsessed with having his fingers inside you at all times

He always had you so eager for these moments, even if you were shy to admit it, Alfred could always tell by the way you melted into the flex and curl of his fingers buried between shaking legs, that you loved this just as much as he did.

Muffled moans and the hushed curses that leave your parted mouth are just encouragement, the loveliest kind of reward for a man so enraptured by the way his fingers filled you this perfectly. 

It’s like you were made for him and must be why he can’t ever get enough. 

Always left aching with need at the thought of watching you unravel before him, sweet and sticky folds parting for a thick middle finger because he was far from undisciplined in taking the time to stretch you out, he liked to be thorough with you.  

And judging by the way you were already grinding your hips into the pump of his forearm, the slick mess from your pussy leaking around his knuckles, Alfred thought maybe he could fit in a third after all. 

“Please! Feels so good, oh god…” You’re pleading, unable to keep your body from chasing after his touch, desperate for more but also painfully aware of where you were. 

You were supposed to be keeping quiet, had promised you’d behave and not draw attention to the creaking wood of the reading bench tucked in this quiet section of Wayne Manor’s library.

It was just impossible to do so when he leaned in like he was doing now to hush your cries with his free hand.

“Oh fuck…look at you. So gorgeous when you do that.” He groans when your tongue suctions to the two fingers keeping your mouth occupied, pleased by the frantic little whimpers he could still hear in your throat. 

It makes him throb when he glances down to watch where your pretty, greedy cunt is taking what he was giving, gripping him so tight he doesn’t think he can stop. 

He’d never want to either, not when you look up at him with glossy eyes that begged for the release so close to crashing down over you now. 

You were addictive in every sense. 

The first time Alfred remembers doing this together in precarious places it was his office at work, the memory making him smile. 

It was his fault for getting you so worked up throughout the day, he could say that, but then there was one too many heavy looks exchanged, your enticing voice in his ear asking him to touch you and suddenly he was doing exactly that, nevermind locking the door properly. 

He had you on your hands and knees that time, right there on the sofa across from his desk, being only slightly firm with his tone when he scolded you for driving him crazy but really he wasted little time before his silver beard was tickling your thighs as he tasted you and teased your clit at the same time. 

“You’re all I think about, you know that darling?”

Rumpled waistcoat’s and ties be damned when you were bared for him, the urge to devour and savor, to give and push you was too compelling. He knew right then and there that you could reach back and grab his hair and he wouldn’t mind if you tousled it.

How could he when he’d finally slid a finger inside and watched your lashes flutter, the quiver of your shoulders, that lovely little gasp and all the moans that followed. 

No, he didn’t mind one bit, it was perfect, he even had to retrieve your underwear from between the cushions afterwards. 

You’re a bit less concerned about getting caught than he is but he thinks that’s part of why he loves getting you off like this, the thrill is exciting.

It makes his heart swell and his cock harden that you trust and desire him so much to let him keep you teetering on the edge for however long he wanted to keep you there and then hearing you beg like that, he wanted to earn every praise and cry for more. 

You always listened so well too, determined to be rewarded with a ride on his fingers, reminiscent of that time in his car where he’d made such a mess of you. 

The windows were just beginning to fog when he pulled away from a heated kiss to reach over the console, curious hands roaming underneath clothes. 

Until he was touching the soft velvet that was you, moving back in for another embrace with a growl on his lips that you swallowed without hesitation. 

“What am I gonna do with you, hmm? Feels like you’re about to come all over my hand and I’ve barely started.” 

You answered with a whine then, needing to grab his shoulder to steady yourself the tighter the tension inside you swirled until he was withdrawing his touch to taste your very essence off his fingers, uninterested in keeping you waiting any longer. 

Even in the awkward confines of a car he could curl his fingers just right, nudging against that sweet, spongey spot that made you melt into pieces, the pleasure climbing with each slow and measured push of his wrist. 

Alfred could be so gentle but intense, nearly overwhelming you with bliss and leaving you happy and hazy for hours after and nothing short of that was acceptable for him. 

He’d spend hours like that if he could. 

It’s why he’s got your legs pushed back almost to your chest in this private corner of the library now, your t-shirt bunched around your waist and presently what he was using as leverage to rock you back into his thrusts. 

“Think you’re ready, love?” 

“Yes, fuck yes please. I want it…want you so bad, Alfred.” 

The way you say his name cracks something open in him and he’s fitting a third finger next to the two already filling you to the brim. 

Pulsing and warm, the added stretch has you covering your mouth to stifle the noise threatening to rip loose from your chest but the ache of pleasure just seemed to grow spreading from your center to the tips of your pointed toes. 

“That’s it, there you are such a sweet little thing. Mmm, I’m proud of you, darling.” Alfred coos against the inside of your knee.

He can’t help but swell with pride, his eyes trying to commit the sight of you to memory. 

Dew beading up on your pretty, bronze skin and the taut tremble of your muscles as he picks up pace just a little, striving to make your head fall back against the stained glass window above you. 

In his mind you deserve to be immortalized in the glass too, the vision that you are. 

His forearm braces when you jolt into his touch, fingers pushing a little deeper and keeping that relentless pressure against your walls while his thumb rubbed soothingly over your clit, again and again. 

“Ohh thank you, I’m-shit I think I’m-“ You’re trying to warn him, caught off guard by the sudden grip around your hips with his other hand, effectively keeping you in place. 

He doesn’t have to say a word, knows you’ll be dripping down his palm any second now as your head tips back and exposes your neck, pulse beating wildly.

You let yourself float away, leaning into everything you were feeling and letting go like he would want you to do, your lips meeting his again in a fiery heat, a passion so white hot you want to scream from how it makes your nerves tingle. 

But Alfred is right there to hold you together as you fall apart and he’s all you see when the pleasure begins to ebb and the warm comedown washes over you. Just like always. 

It’s delicious and delectably filthy and neither of you wanted it any other way. 

Forever thinking about being in compromising positions with that old man! This was fun to write and I hope you enjoyed! Also listened to DRIP by EVAN GIIA while writing this/brainstorming for this, the title comes from the lyrics and now I’m gonna go look at pics of Andy Serkis hands, do not disturb lmao

Thank you for reading 🫶🏾

<3 dividers by @/saradika-graphics <3

[tarrensbookmarks]

Batman

➼ Alfred Pennyworth ‣I'll Be Seeing You by eupheme Invisible Man!Alfred x F!Reader ‣Slip Into Your Skin by stargirlfics Alfred Pennyworth x Black F!Reader ‣The Gentleman by stargirlfics Alfred Pennyworth x F!Black Dancer!Reader ‣Penny For Your Thoughts by eupheme Alfred Pennyworth x F!Reader ‣In Bloom by eupheme Alfred Pennyworth x F!Reader and sex pollen ‣Of Beachgrass and Seafoam by viceofdionysus Alfred Pennyworth x F!Reader

➼ Bruce Wayne/Batman ‣Iron by stargirlfics Battinson x F!Reader

➼ Jason Todd/Red Hood/Arkham Knight ‣Dark!AK!Jason Todd x F!Reader by nocturne-pisces

➼ Harvey Dent/Two-Face ‣Yandere!Two-Face x GN!Reader by recreationalfanfics

➼ Roman Sionis/Black Mask ‣Morning After by gilverrwrites Roman Sionis x Reader

dividers by saradika-graphics

[fanfic-the-wish-your-heart-makes]

Gotham Character Ranked by How Many Flowers They'd Give You + Headcanons 🌹🌸⚘🌼🌺 Part 1

Can be see as platonic 😊 Disclaimer: The "ranked" part is just about numbers, not about what's better or worse :)

Doesn't give you flowers: •Bruce Wayne: if you mention that you're against buying unnecessary, short-term things even once, he'll never give you flowers. Cause he respects your wishes like that. •Selina Kyle: she thinks they're stupid (sorry, Ivy). Maybe maybe maybe she steals some one day. "They were...attached to the wallet!" (they weren't).

(Wonderful fit, these two😂)

Gives you one flower: 🌹 •Edward Nygma. The flower definitely has a special meaning.

•Alfred Pennyworth. He sees one particularly interesting flower in the garden but not having known you for long, he'd feel weird dragging you out to look at it, so he picks it and puts it in a vase/gives it to you for your desk/suit pocket/behind your ear/hair.

->part 2

[gothamitelove]

General dating hcs for dating Btas Alfred Pennyworth?

He needs more hcs and love

ooh hold on anon youre cooking here (sorry this took so long, i literally just remembered there was stuff in my drafts as well as my inbox)

btas!alfred pennyworth x reader headcanons:

he's a worrier, so please be careful with yourself, god knows he wants you to be

alfred is also a very subtle flirter. Very subtle. a lot of times it'll consist of acts of service or his brand of sarcasm (inside jokes my beloved)

this is a SLOW BURN sort of thing. he's not doing anything to jeopardize what you guys already have unless it's crystal clear that it won't fuck anything up if he does

forehead kisses. all the time babey

he makes sure you're well-fed. all the time. constantly. it's his way of looking after you

he probably likes long walks in the afternoons, holding hands, that sort of thing

you will have to convince him to take breaks for himself. usually he's alright at this- he knows his limits- but when he's worried, he'll take to cleaning, and you Will have to drag him away from that

his love languages are absolutely acts of service and words of affirmation

[thesharktanksdriver]

Magical Girl in Gotham (Platonic)

Part 1 Part 2 part 4

Sorry for the repeating lines of there are any, it’s tumblrs fault

Tag list: @harpy-space

Mention in the comment if u wanna be tagged for the next part :]

You drift between the world of conscious and unconscious, the Dream world and the waking world

For once you felt yourself dream, seeing the images of all those who had filled your once lonely life with joy

At point in your life you forgot to just sleep, to finally rest and not to worry for the next day

You were always so preoccupied with getting rid of a new batch of Shadowmites the next night or school or rent that sleep felt more like a chore

Wasted hours to be doing something important despite how Rigel told you it was unhealthy to avoid it

So for now you sleep and you enjoy it as you occasionally sense the distant feeling of someone sitting at your side

When you eventually do wake up your met with the sensation of warm blankets (compared to your thin ones) and a hand pressed against your forehead

When your eyes flutter open you see the sight of Jason, surprise in his face as you look up at him

You can’t get a word out before he’s hugging you tightly, mumbling “Jesus don’t ducking scare me like that. Thank whatever god there is that your ok”

He stays that way for a minute and you soak it up, noticing how he was wearing the uniform of red hood but without the mask

It doesn’t really surprise you but it now makes sense as to why you had a vague sense of familiarity when meeting him

That also answered who the rest of the bat crew was

When he pulls back he sees your stare down towards the large red bat symbol on his chest. “I had the feeling you rich people were crazy, but not crazy enough to be vigilantes to be honest. Seems like those online forums were right about you guys not being normal” whatever worry fades away at that comment

His laugh is loud and seems to echo out into the hallway through the opened door, footsteps quickly make their way towards the room

Damien bursts in, an unfamiliar teary look in his normally composed eyes

Jason has barely any time to pull a few feet away before his younger brother is repeating what he had done earlier

Damien’s gripping you as if he was afraid that when he pulled away you’d suddenly disappear

You hug your friend back, noticing the rest of the family peak in and be somewhat agast at the sight

Turns out you have a lot of explaining to do and so do they

Bruce/Batman himself is honestly disappointed in himself that you’d been doing this for years yet he had not even fucking know about it up till now

Even more so that Jason and Dick knew and didn’t tell him that an actual child is running around at night killing mystical creatures

He actually apologies to you personally that he should’ve noticed, but you quickly shoot that down telling him that was kinda what you didn’t want

Like him you set out on this mission to do it practically alone, you never intended to make friends along the way but somehow you did

He now knows why he saw himself in your eyes, you were him when he started off. Someone who was blinded by their goal of protecting others that they did not care for themself

He asks again if your parents know and now you answer honestly

You didn’t have any. You lived alone in a crappy apartment and barely got rent in on time

You see the looks given by all of his sons, how it goes from you to their dad and then back to themselves

After finding this out Bruce probably teaches you some more self defence since you only taught yourself through experience

He’s a good teacher, finding out what your strong suits are and helping you improve rapidly

Your style of fighting is a lot like dancing. Fluid motions and carefully placed steps, turns and pirouettes to dodge, quick attacks that happen within the blink of an eye

Your not like Jason or dick who can take large hits and can brute force their way though things. Your more agile and graceful

Bruce at some point helps make a schedule for you to properly balance your nightly duties and going to school

It’s much better than your own lol

Kinda feels better that most of the villains in this city absolutely love you and would protect you but also kinda worried cause they would literally kill for you

The only villains he actually trusts you with is the Gotham sirens and maybe Waylon on a good day

You’ve cause him to get so many extra grey hairs after hearing what you eat on a daily basis

How do you the energy to run around Gotham every night while surviving on cup noodles?!??

One time y’all appeared at a McDonald’s it was all over Twitter in the matter of minutes cause you have a cute magical girl and then Batman looming beside them as you asked for a nugget meal and ice cream for him

Sometimes he’ll be beating a villain and you’ll briefly stop by and everything is out on pause as you say hi to both

Honestly it’s the funniest thing for bystanders to see especially when you say hi to John or Tim the goon

Your Twitter famous and you don’t even have Twitter

Clark is texting Bruce why “Batman”, “magical girl” and “McDonald’s” is trending on Twitter

Damien is kinda upset at first before realizing that would kinda be hypocritical and now he has more of an excuse to spend time with you

Two besties just chilling on a rooftop of Gotham while Riddler sulks in the background

He definitely gets protective over you even though you can handle a lot of stuff on your own

It’s mostly out of the fear of losing you. You serve as a symbol to him, a sign that his life has changed for the better and he’s truly happy

At first he doesn’t like his brothers hanging around you but comes to accept it. He was just kinda scared you’d like them over him and forget him

Has a constant glare and only you can decipher his actual emotions

Your his translator for poor Gordon. Like Damien says something mildly insulting and then your like “he means to say he likes your tie and you did a good job out there. Keep it up 👍 “

Your his impulse control from threatening people and breaking bones

He probably pressures Tim into making you a com

At some point he tells you about his grandfather and mom. That turns out be a interesting conversation especially when learning there’s just a magical life giving pool somewhere under Gotham

He’s such a little shit to people who make comments about your outfit

He’s tearing down their entire self esteem

God help the poor soul who decides cat calling or making weird comments about you cause it’s on sight for him

Bruce had to hold both him and Jason back from “having a polite talk” with the guy. Bruce does allow glaring and yelling though

Y’all probably become a duo that Gotham Twitter freaks out over

Like, people be now using you two as “bestie goals” and you do a double take when someone mentions it at school

When you once took him over to your apartment he visibly does a double take and asks how you live like this

Brags to his brothers all the time about how he’s your best friend so he’s the favourite (he is)

Ra’s Al Ghul is more confused than Clark when he gets reports his grandson suddenly is seen with that “magic girl?” He’s also gotten reports about and the two of you are building the Lego bonsai set on a rooftop

You got him into Lego and he now has his entire room full of them and boobytrapped

Dick has unfortunately been a victim to this

Jason almost kneeled over and died again out of worry when he had brought you half dead back to the manor

So it’s safe to say he’s very realized your ok and now also basically under the protection of the rest of the family

He may still have some grudges against Bruce but he does admit that he can teach you better than he could in most places

But what Bruce can’t teach you is how to shoot!

Yeah so…he had you use your magic weapon and turn it into a gun form and has you practice with him

Most villains audibly sigh in relief when seeing the two of you together cause that means their chances of a bullet lodged in their side or spine being crushed is better

Takes you on his motorcycle and it’s super fun

He gets you your own personalized helmet even though you can technically make one via magic

Y’all quote so much shit from books that Tim has begun to catalog it

Scary dog privileges number 3

Sometimes while on duty he’ll stop by at a few cute looking stores and buy you stuff he thinks you’ll like

You don’t tell him you have more than enough pens as he gifts you one with a cute topper

He swears to god if that fucking clown even breaths near you he’s dead and there’s nothing Bruce will do to be able to stop him

Damien would cheer on in the background if that happened

He kinda helps Damien realize and process that it’s ok for you to have other friends and that they won’t be stealing you away nor will you replace him

Both have a lot of emotional baggage and who better to help unpack that than him

Takes a lot of convincing to do so first

Loves the what we do in the shadows tv show and WILL make you watch it with him cause no one else will…along with rue Paul’s drag race

They say red hood now has a handmade bracket

Dick is so joking about how he and Jason knew you first to Damien and Bruce

100% tries to convince you to have your costume to match his for at least a night , if you do so he’ll be supper giddy and get soooo many picture

Your half convinced he has a scrapbook somewhere from how many photos you’ve seen him snap of Radom moments

He sometimes mentions Barbra Gordon and it’s giving you vibes

Keeps showing up while your trying to have a peaceful dinner at the iceberg lounge, penguin shoo’s him away calling him a pesky bird

He always replies back that “but your the bird here aren’t you?, in the wing-” And almost gets shot every single time

He seems kinda embarrassed when people joke about his dump-truck, whatever that meant. You just assume he fell into one or something and don’t get the actual meaning

By god he tries to keep your innocence in tact. There are so many creeps in Gotham and he does his best to protect you from them

There have been situations he’s covered your ears and sent out death glares that can make some of the worst villains shiver in fear

Might’ve let Jason break a guys arm once cause he kept making gross comments. Never told Bruce about it but kinda knows he’d get a slap on the wrist

Audibly makes a gasp when you use a cartwheel in a battle and has a proud big brother moment while clasping a hand over his heart

While your hunting for shadowmites he occasionally drops by to give you something like a smoothie for energy

Loves talking with you about the juiciest hero drama he’s heard within the week

Your not sure how he learns all of what he heard but he was a way

Will watch whatever show or movie you want no matter what age range it was intended for. Like he will watch pretty cute or sailor moon and get super invested to the point he’s buying merch for both of you

He now has a sailor Venus keychain and a matching sailor moon one for you

Definitely has mock fake lightsaber battles with your magical weapon and his batons

He always lets you win but you don’t need to know that

When this happens he also does the full 9 yards to make his “death” as dramatic as possible

Piggyback rides galore with This guy cause he finds it fun and uses it as some sort of weight training

Speaking of which you and Damian have sat on his back while he does pushups. You and Damien made the logo millennium falcon set

Brice walked in and then walked right back out

That happens more than most would assume

When he has video game tournaments with Jason and Tim, he gets you and Damien to be the referees

What he doesn’t know is that Damien is kinda bias to whoever didn’t annoy him that day

Meaning Dick is kinda on a loosing streak as of late compared to either brothers

Has already begun placing photos of you and the family on the wall

Alfred did a double take when he first saw it but then just smiled and went on with his business

Both you and him help Alfred with cooking

Sometimes he goes to really crappy stores and buys all the cheap bootleg hero figurines

Once they make one of you he’s gonna beg you to make your uniform match it for a night

Dear god he has so many nicknames that some villains are now gonna start mocking him by using them with you

He looked really upset when two face called you one of them and then laughed at how his face scrunched up

Tim buys you a proper phone so he can now text you at midnight lol

Even sets up a Twitter account for your hero persona and its now followed by most villains within the city lol

People now joke that at this point your gonna reform most of them before Batman can

Speaking of jokes he sends you memes constantly. Lien you’ll wake up with at least 2 unread messages from him that are just memes he found

He thinks the funniest are the cursed pictures of his family with shit like “bottom text” or “Sœp”

He’s kinda that guy you can go to talk to about anything cause he will 100% know it even if it’s the most obscure piece of media ever

In his spare time he watches those 5 hour long essay videos for fun as background noise

Please watch documentaries with him, doesn’t matter if their lighthearted or serious cause he just wants someone to watch with him

Speaking of which, if you do this with him he builds the most elaborate pillow forts known to man

Please encourage him to at least get 6 hours of sleep a night,the bags under his eyes are already bad enough

Won’t object if your ask to paint his nails or style his hair. He probably finds it somewhat relaxing especially if you talk to him about something while doing it

He rambled a lot about whatever he’s fixated on at the time, you don’t have to respond but just show him your listening and he’ll feel really happy

Totally brags about getting the feeling you were more than what you seemed lol

He sometimes secretly uses the bat computer to watch Netflix or Crunchyroll and play horror games. He says it adds ambiance to the experience

You walked in while he was playing phasmophobia and he screamed

He once used axe body spray and no one will let him live it down, he has his head in his hands as Jason recounts the story

Everyone dreads April fools cause of him and he’s recounted to you his various escapades

Your favourite is when he programmed the Batmobile’s honk into playing “Barbie girl”

He plays video games with you constantly. Doesn’t matter what game you wanna play cause he will find it

On patrol he’ll text you to see how your doing and if you need either him or anyone else to stop by

Else tells you to stay hydrated despite the fact he’s being a hypocrite

He patrols Twitter somehow while being a vigilante and gives people the ban hammer if he finds them being creepy

There is no mercy from him and they’ll have their account temporarily banned or in some cases deleted

He acts all innocent about it as well

Alfred is honestly just happy your ok and now have their support during your night duties

Like he knows your on good terms with most villains but it still gives him an extra layer of comfort that you know you can rely on them for help

Like mentioned before he already planning your room out before Bruce even signs those papers. He finds out what style of room you’d like, interests, favourite colour and goes to town on that interior design

He still packs you lunches but now he has added more foods that give more energy and protein

Whenever you try to help him out with anything other than some cooking and giving Bruce his tea/time coffee he will deny it

You have enough stress as it is you will not put more on your shoulders

Bakes a lot of fresh sweets with even fresher berries from his and Damien’s secret garden

Whenever you don’t go to Harley’s for getting wounds patched up he does it for you

At this point he’s probably more qualified than 50% if Gotham doctors with the amount of fatal injuries he’s stopped

When Bruce gets kinda worried that you hang out with like 50% of the villains in the city he reminds Bruce of Selina and Talia

That shuts Bruce up real fast

Sometimes at night you catch him doing grocery runs, you help him carry bags back to his car

He sometimes talks about his family, growing up and watching as things rapidly advanced from that of his childhood

It’s pretty interesting, especially considering the batcave is filled with super tech that would go for millions

Once again your half convinced he’s some sort of immortal/god in human form with the amount of patience he has

Along with the fact he somehow balances cleaning an entire mansion and batcave

How he does this no one knows

God help anyone who gets on his bad side cause he’s pulling out the umbrella to teach them proper manners

Example, the guy who thought it would be a good idea to heckle you about wearing a skirt

That man is scared to walk the night knowing he’s still out there

Eventually one night as you made your last rounds across the city and said hi to Waylon along with drop by the iceberg Lounge you end up back in the batcave

It’s peaceful as usual, even as you go up to Bruce who has his mask pulled off with a soft smile

He holds out a paper, pen in his other hand that he offers to you

You nod with a smile and take it, signing your name down on it

Gotham is definitely in a stir when everyone wakes up to the news that Bruce Wayne had adopted a new child

Bruce got at least 1 individual call from each justice league member

[reveluving]

batfam + batmom + hugs 💗

warnings: pure fluff! (I just wanna give hugsss)

check out my batmom m.list!

your face squished against bruce's greek god pecs before melting his heart when you arms can barely accommodate his sheer size and with your pretty sparkly eyes as you shyly look up at him. not finding it enough, he gently tilts your head up by the chin to return your gaze

having a literal competition on who hugs the best between you and dick—he always says that your hugs are equivalent to your best-selling cookies

jason stopping by the manor and immediately giving you a hug, relishing in the comfortable silence and his mother's presence after a rough night

kneeling next to tim's seat before wrapping your arms around his tired frame, hoping to convince him to turn in for the night. you know he finally gives in when he leans in your hold

returning duke's hug with a tighter one despite getting caught off guard, but then getting over it when you feel his body tremble and tears staining your shirt

unable to resist squishing your cheek against cass' when she comes up to you without a word, only to open her arms in anticipation for a big ol' mother-daughter hug

damian not only tolerating your sudden need for hugs, but embracing it as well, which some would find the sight funny, for you would emit an aura of flowers and bubbles while his comprises daggers and death and yet, he returns your hugs with zero shame

giving steph a bear hug just after you returned cass', finding amusement in the former's pout for she, too, wants to be attacked by your motherly affections as well

terry glaring at his classmates who either whisper to their buddies about wanting a hug from you too or openly ogle at you—if the family heard about this, it's over for these idiots

giggling with matt as you swoop him up for a hug and twirling with him in your arms, filling the manor with the sounds of your joy—bonus if ace and titus joins your fun, running in circles and barking in excitement

babs comforting you by letting you hold her tight after finally being able to get ahold of family who's out patrolling after a heart-stopping moment when the connection somehow gets lost

alfred celebrating yet another milestone as your café reaches the targeted earning with you, always honoured to be a part of your life, for you have not only saved his, but the entire family in general

kate greeting you with a hug whenever she's invited for a big family dinner/holiday, always jokingly thanking you for keeping the family and especially her cousin in check

always making the mistake of kneeling whenever ace and titus runs up to you before falling onto your back when they literally jump into your arms, giggling as they lick your face as an apology

nuzzling your face into alfred the cat's soft fur as he purrs and curls in your arms, his tail swishing in annoyance if anyone tries to pry him off you

overall: batmom's hugs are a 12/10, would recommend 🤌🏻

[tarrenterror25]

POV: You get a boo basket from Alfred Pennyworth

[gulnarsultan]

About your fic where batmom finds a baby on the street, can you make one of how the whole family interacts with the baby? They play with the baby, sing songs, etc. 💗🥺

I think Alfred and Dick will be the first to approach the baby. Alfred takes on the role of grandfather for the baby. It helps the reader a lot in the care of the baby. Dick takes on the role of the baby's older brother. She tries to play a role as much as she can in the care of the baby. Jason is protective of the baby. He is afraid that he will do some harm by taking care of her. Tim is indecisive about the baby. Gradually he gets used to the presence of the baby. She finds all the necessary information about baby care on the Internet. Damian is not happy at first that the baby has arrived. After getting used to sharing your care and love, Damian becomes more friendly towards the baby. He even insists that the baby is his favorite older brother. Bruce strives to be a good father to the baby. She makes time to spend time with the baby. They all distribute tasks at night to sing lullabies and tell stories to the baby.

[eupheme]

— all I want is you

alfred pennyworth x f!reader

rated e - 4.5k

tags: pfyt request, jealous and possessive!alfred, light angst, copious amts of tooth-rotting fluff, split pov, semi-clothed semi-public sex, return of the daddy kink (light), marking, creampie

a/n: inspired by this lovely thot by @csboz 💖 references part ii and vii of penny for your thoughts but not required to enjoy

When a gala brings you face-to-face with your ex, Alfred realizes that seeing something in a photo is a lot different than seeing it in person.

Alfred had never considered himself a jealous man.

Maybe life had been simpler, then. He had known his place, where he fit in. A perfectly-made mould, sculpted just for him.

Solider. Bodyguard. Lover.

The lines of each were neatly set. Not just drawn in sand, but etched into stone.

Rules and regulations only blurring in the evening, behind closed doors. In the same slow way that evening bleeds into night - red to orange to deep indigo. Only to right itself the next morning, with the clear coming of dawn.

As man of routine, it had been easy to follow. He had never given it much thought, this throbbing ache in his chest. Fingers that itch to reach out, and take. The poison that pulls at his brow - the permanent furrow above narrowed, watchful eyes.

It’s uncomfortably new, and unwelcome.

And now, small part of him wonders if it’s because he never had anything that was really - truly - his.

Not the way that you are.

As much his and he is yours. The band on your finger, that promise, had felt like enough when he had sunk to a knee before you.

Now, he’s resisting the urge to drape you in jewels. To whisk you away. To give you anything you want.

It had been different, seeing that photo. Static, splashed across the screen in black and white.

Another insecurity had dug its claw into his mind then, convincing himself that he wasn’t good enough. Acutely aware of just how undeserving he was.

You had set him straight. It’s a night he still remembers, one he cherishes deeply.

The night you told him, even if it had taken him a while to return those words to you.

He had thought he knew better. That such emotion had no hold over him.

But a photo doesn’t move. A photo doesn’t have roving eyes, doesn’t give a look that he doesn’t much care for.

You looked beautiful, of that he had no doubt.

An hour ago it had been almost all he could think about. The thoughts of the Gala and those he must meet with Bruce severing - splitting down the middle, as you had modeled your dresses for him.

Asking his opinion, twisting and twirling in front of the mirror. Letting him undress you after each one, his lips against your spine as he worked the zipper. Black and bronze and silver, all wrapping around you, until you had picked a favorite.

Wanting to get things right. No longer just the messenger girl, but now seen often at Bruce’s side. Someone that was recognized, that was sought after.

He’s always seen you. Then and now and in the bedroom, tucked away, he had been so proud.

And when you had slipped your arm in his in the Tower, neatly curving your hand into the crook of his arm, he had thought it would be a long night.

Eager to end up right back here, to strip the fabric from you, one final time.

But now… it feels like an eternity.

There’s an uneasy flip in your stomach, when you see him.

It’s lessened over the months since that first meeting. You’ve run into Harvey a few times since the Parliament, though you haven’t stepped foot in the building since. Those days were long behind you, buried deep.

Your path with the newly-elected DA would continue to cross, as long as Bruce was working with him to improve Gotham. It was something you had thought about, had decided to bear. Another thing from the past, that you were convinced would no longer take up a worried residence in your mind.

And it was different, this time.

This time, Alfred is with you.

Not physically with you at the moment, but the comfort still lingers. He had just stepped away - offering to get you a drink while the guests work their way into the banquet hall, after the silent auction.

Leaving you next to the ornate seating chart - trying to pick your name out of the hundreds of small groupings.

And it seemed like Harvey Dent had the same idea.

“Thought I would see you here, doll.” The handshake he offers turns into a hug, his hand pressing against your shoulder. You own giving a half-hearted pat against his back.

“And I figured you would be too. To see Bruce, I mean.” You smile tightly before your eyes are drifting back to the list, “Is Gilda with you?”

His arm brushes yours as he moves to your left, to look for his own name, “Not tonight. She’s getting ready for a show next month.”

His fiancée. The girl he dated after you - the girl he was set to marry, once his position was settled.

There’s no twinge in your stomach this time. No weird, lingering feelings that you hadn’t been able to process.

Just a sense of pity, that he had to come alone. Thinking back - you can’t remember the last event she’s been to.

You never minded going to these things. Half the time it was your job. But it was always better when Alfred came with you.

“What about you? You here with anyone?” He’s asking, nodding towards the cane tucked under your arm - but then you hear your name. The press of a warm hand to the small of your back, as you are gently moved to the side.

“There you are, darling.” Alfred coos, as you grin - making room for him. The flute passed over from where he stands between you and Harvey, before he’s turning.

“Mr. Dent,” His left hand extends, “Pleasure.”

Harvey’s eyes flick down for the briefest of moments. Following the path of the arm that curls around you. To where you lift the glass to drink, the glitter that reflects off one of your fingers.

He smiles, as he takes the offered hand. You miss the way Alfred’s knuckles whiten, for the briefest of moments. The slightest wince in reply, before they’re letting go and Harvey is pivoting to face both of you.

“Heard about the accident. I didn’t think you’d be out and about just yet.”

The reminder almost makes you flinch. It’s been months, but you still have nightmares - racing down endless bleached-white halls, trying to find him. Panic flaring when a siren wails down the street, your eyes automatically leaping to the sky.

“It would take more than an amateur to get rid of me, I’m afraid. Much less Master Bruce.” Alfred’s knuckle graze along your back, soothing. A small smile sent your way, “Besides, I had the finest care you could ask for.”

There’s a presence at your elbow then, the feeling of a heavy shadow.

“Table Twelve.” Bruce tells you in greeting, after a quick glance at the chart - before he’s turning to Harvey, “I heard you’re working on the Nashton case.”

“Not much of one,” Harvey grins, a hand smacking Bruce’s shoulder before he sends you a wink. “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me. I’ll make sure that freak stays in Arkham.”

There's a tightness in Alfred’s jaw, his hand staying firmly in place. A tell-tale tap of annoyance of the cane you’ve handed back, against the marble floor.

You're certain that you're the only one who notices, besides Bruce - the briefest flicker of a look before he's lassoed back into the conversation.

There's a shuffle, when you sit for dinner soon after. Your arrangement differs from what's been noted on the namecards, as Alfred pulls out the seat to his right, instead of left. You take it, without much thought - fitting yourself between him and Bruce.

The conversation from before trickling into dinner, silted by the way Bruce has to lean past both of you - an elbow digging into the table - to talk to Harvey.

Your mind has drifted elsewhere. That unease of seeing him again disappearing completely with Alfred's arrival at your elbow. With his touch now - the hand that slips beneath the tablecloth. The breadth of his palm as it presses down, high above your knee.

Curving the silky fabric of your dress against your thigh. His touch firm enough that you can feel the slow drag of his fingers, circling strokes that press into your skin.

Reminding you of his touch, somewhere else.

Distracting you terribly, thoughts drifting back to the stolen moments as you dressed. Barely able to manage not to squirm in your seat, as the food is served.

He’s attentive as you eat - his voice low and smooth in your ear, as he points out people you should make note of. His gaze always on yours - the grip of his hand tightening each time he leans, sometimes slipping higher for the briefest moment.

A welcome distraction, as the courses are served.

The first of the notes are plucked from the big band on the stage when dinner is cleared - a modern cover played in an old jazz style, the notes drawn out and bright.

Harvey’s arm slings across the back of his chair, as he leans to catch your attention.

“I nearly forgot about them,” He gestures with a smile, a two fingers tipping towards the stage, “Bristol County Club, do you remember?

You did.

It had been before you were together, back when you were just friends - a senior banquet, right before graduation. Month spent on a fundraiser that pulled out all the stops.

Catered food, black-tie, a hired band. Compared to now it felt so small - but back then, it was the most extravagant night you could imagine.

The memory makes you smile, and just as your lips part to answer there’s a touch to your arm - a voice cutting through.

“Would you like to join me, dove?”

Alfred’s hand extends in front of you - waiting, his seat already pushing back. His cane tucked against his chair, to be retrieved after.

“Excuse me,” You manage to tell Harvey - before your hand is pressing into his, and he’s guiding you away.

Winding in between the other tables, joining the couples that spill from their own, onto the dance floor.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all night.” Alfred tells you, as the dance floor slowly fills, “You look beautiful. Have I told you that already?”

It makes your cheeks heat, “Maybe once or twice.”

There’s couples swirling around you, each caught up in the endless flutes of champagne, the energy from the live band on the stage.

You stay close, though. A slow, sway - the movement familiar, even if the details are different this time.

How the hand that should cup yours, now entwines - fingers lacing together.

How the palm that guides you slips lower on your back. Not so far that it’s improper, but you can feel the warmth and pressure on the curve of your ass, inside of your spine.

It sends up a spark that follows the path his lips took earlier. A soft press of his lips as the zipper lowered, each time.

You had wanted him, then. The only thing that kept you in check was knowing how he’d never give in, if it made you both late.

Leaving the memory sizzling under your skin.

Stoked by these slow moments of change. Because you’re starting to put things together now - all those little details perhaps imperceptible to an acquaintance.

But not to you.

It takes you another two songs to figure things out fully. The circling steps taking you into the middle of the floor, and then out to the opposite side. Far away from the shared table.

You haven’t really seen him quite like this before. If you didn’t love him so much, perhaps you’d want to laugh.

And you think that maybe - maybe, you should do something about it.

His fingers slip higher on your back, but it’s only to press you just a little bit closer. Your lips brush against the peppered-grey scruff on his beard, just before you press a kiss against his cheekbone.

Keeping your fingers clasped as you step away, back towards the edge of the dance floor.

“Come with me.” You coax, but you don’t have to.

He follows - would follow - you anywhere, a hand in yours until the dark corners of the room surround you, the music fading as you slip with him down a corridor.

It’s near-deserted - a thick ornate rug running down the hall. Small groupings of those discussing business, paying you no mind as you wind down one more hallway.

Your name is a whispered question as you try the handle - the room you open is not in use, like you knew it would be. Year-old memories of helping Hazel set up in these halls are still fresh in your mind.

Perhaps at one point, it had been set up for meetings, or a small, private party. The wallpaper pretty and patterned, but at least a decade old. Matching furniture pushed around - heavy wooden tables shoved to one side. Stacked rows of chairs in another corner.

A dim and dusty table lamp that you click on, as he shuts the door behind you.

“You look like you could use a minute.” You tell him, with a knowing tilt of your head.

The corner of his lips twitch, “Am I that obvious, dove?”

“Maybe just to me,” You smile, hands finding his, as you walk backward. As he follows, again.

Another glance around the room, before you’re adding, “Feels a little familiar, hm?"

His stern look softens, as he remembers.

Your second meeting, that flurry of feelings. Him, thinking might have changed your mind. Your own anxiety, thinking he wasn't going to call.

Leading his hands to your hips, as you lean against a table that bumps up against the wall. A second, before you’re pushing yourself up, to perch on the edge.

"I think I loved you, even then." Your admission is soft. Cheeks burning in the darkness, even after all this time, "Well, I knew when we danced together in your kitchen. But, I mean... even that early, I knew you would be important to me."

He laughs - a short, rough thing. It startles you, a little frown as your chin tips up.

"I'm sorry, darling. I just-” He sounds almost breathless, in the dim room, “That night... for me, too."

Your smile is bright, blinding. If asked, you’d say it was impossible to love him more, but with his answer comes a surge of affection, a little flip of your heart.

His own lips curve, when you meet them. Hair shorn short and velvet against your fingers as your hand slips against his neck. Sighing into his mouth as he leans into your touch, into the kiss.

Pressing himself snug against the table, as your thighs have to inch wider. Your knees digging into his hips, as his hands find your waist.

Possessive, in the way he grips onto you. Fingers pressing into the fabric, your skin. The smallest tug to bring you forward, closing those last few inches of space.

His confession finally coming in the breaths between your mouths meeting - quiet, in the dark room.

“I don’t like the way he was looking at you,” It’s almost a growl, as your lips press against his cheek, “Like he was reconsidering things.”

You do laugh then, but not at him. The sound low in your throat, bitten back, “You know, it would have to go both ways, right? That I would want to want that, too?”

Before your voice lowers, “You know that you’re the one I’m going home with.”

His eyes seem to darken at that, his voice a low rasp, “I know.”

“Then you realize you’re being silly?” You press, gently.

Alfred does smile, then - a small, rueful thing.

“I’m well aware.” An inhale of breath, then, “I haven’t felt this way before, but then again I’ve never-”

His words break off, as his eyes drag down you for just a moment. Admiring, but it’s more than that. The same feeling that was stirred with his greedy touch, the delicious shiver at the growling rasp his voice.

It does something to you - your pulse quickening, something hungry awakening in your belly.

“Do you need me to show you, again?” You offer sweetly, learning forward to let your lips brush his again.

His answer comes as a ragged sigh, “Just once more, love.”

Expecting words, perhaps another soft press of your mouth, before you return to the party.

Not the way that the soft layers of your skirt gather in a hand, bundled near your hip. How your other catches his palm, guiding his fingers beneath.

Cupping you. Where you’re so warm and where the thin fabric clings to you - worked up from before, and during, and now.

He sucks in a breath as you bite back your own sigh. Your hand still on his wrist as your lips press against his throat, to the hollow under his ear.

A bitten-back groan as your teeth graze his earlobe, just before you croon.

“You could take me in here, you know that?”

The hand on your waist tightens, just as his fingers begin to move. The tips of two fingers crooking against the fabric, slipping up to circle against you.

“That’s what you want, right? To send me back out there, full of you?”

Alfred wouldn’t ask it of you, you’re sure. Too proper to suggest it, himself… but to have it offered so prettily and openly.

But he is only human, after all.

You can feel his groan against your lips, the flex of his muscles as he swallows.

“Yes.” He rasps.

The fingers that circle halt, but only enough so he can slip them beneath your panties. His eyes dark in the dim light of the room, fixed on yours as his touch teases you. Drifting along your slit, before dipping lower.

A rough curse growled out as the tip one fits inside you easily. You’re slick, the fabric damp and sticking to your skin, coating the fingers that presses deep, before he’s working in another.

“Oh fuck,” You sigh, thighs nudging wider. Hands wandering, fingers hooking around his belt and tugging him closer, “Please, Alfred-”

“I will.” He promise, before his mouth is pressing against yours. Fingers working you open, as you tug at his zipper, trying to slip your fingers beneath.

Finding him more than half-hard from your words, thickening with the touch of your hand on bare skin, as you work him free. His other hand rises - cupping the back of your neck, just as his fingers press deep and curl.

His desire thrills you. Not often does he give into your whims when you’re out like this. Preferring to make you wait, make you suffer until he’s got you alone again.

More than once you’ve ridden him in his car, but that was an extension of his space. Fingers have drifted during dances, during long dinners.

A promise for later, but not now.

You’d be worried if he hadn’t already admitted just how self-aware he was.

But he needs this.

You can sense it - the tick in his jaw, the not-so-subtle flex of his hips into your fist. The way his fingers pound, as if trying to rip the orgasm from you.

It has you clenching down hard, whining. Your other hand drifting - across his chest, tugging on his tie to keep him close. Parting your lips with the soft brush of his tongue, so he can taste you as his hand slips free.

Working it over his aching cock twice - marking himself fully with you, until it’s slick with your need.

“Come here.” He reaches for you, his other hand guiding your hips to edge of the table, “I’ll give you what you want dove, but you need to be quiet.”

Nudging your thighs wider with his hip, your legs rising to hook around his waist, opening yourself up more. One of your hands bracing behind you, flattened across the tabletop.

He’s so broad like this. The shadowed light cutting across his features, his strong shoulders. The loosened tie, the clinking belt the only pieces out of place.

The velvet soft length rubs against you, as he steps closer. Your eyes drop to watch the slow twist of his fist as he rubs the tip against your folds.

“As much as I want everyone to hear you’re mine, I’m not too keen on sharing.”

It makes you throb, the edge in his tone. How aware you both are of the unlocked door. The hundreds of people just outside, the muted music that crashes against the walls.

Too far gone to stop, as eyes narrow - letting himself look, now. To where you’re exposed and open - so needy for him that it makes him ache.

He won’t leave you waiting.

With the next roll of his hips, he’s splitting you open. Not with the slow tease of home - fitting just the tip, making you earn every inch. No, this makes you cry out - the feeling of his cock making a home for himself in your warm cunt.

He swallows the sound, his own groan rough in his throat.

“Christ, I missed you.” Alfred rasps, as if it had been weeks instead of hours. Eyes fixed on your own, how they go half-lidded with the drag of his cock, as he begins to move.

“Missed you too,” You whine, as you start to lean back, your dress still fisted around your waist.

Thinking he’d like to watch - see where you stretch around his cock, where he fucks you open. How he gleams with your desire, with each sharp rut of his hips.

Instead, Alfred catches your wrist. Holding it against his chest as he tugs you back up.

“No,” It’s close to an order, except for the way he sighs with need, “Stay close darling, just for a moment. Please.”

Your legs hook around him, instead. Doing as you’re told, as your hands drop your dress - sliding across his shoulders instead, fingers entwining behind his neck.

The “good girl” he murmurs shoots straight to your cunt, a shared look that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

His thrusts grow harder, deeper. A steady pound that will leave both of you aching tonight, not that either of you mind.

In this moment it’s just you and him, everything else fades into soft shades of nothing. Your focus caught on the spots where you’re connected. Eyes, hands, mouth. His cock, pressed deep - dragging against a spot that sends a rolling wave of pleasure to lap low in your belly.

And when his hand leaves your wrist to drift down, circling against you once again, you feel as if you’re about to break.

His name is garbled, another soft plea. Your hips rocking into the perfect pressure of his touch - further proof of his devotion. Every detail tucked away so carefully, keep safe in a mind that never forgets.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop-” You whine, forgetting about your promise. Each breath short and harsh as your nails sink into fabric, desperate to cling to this moment.

Alfred’s forgotten too, his growl lower than the low murmur of before.

“Never.” He rasps, “Come on, darling. Let me feel you-”

Everything winds tight, your breath held. And then - it snaps, fracturing and splintering. The music fading out to white noise.

You come with him wrapped around you. Caged in - an arm wrapping around, hand pressed between your shoulder blades. The other steady and unmerciful against your clit, drawing your pleasure out. He groans with the tight pulse of your orgasm, pressing himself deep, so he can feel each throb.

“There it is, that’s my girl.” It’s murmured into your sweat-dewed skin, as he mouths at your neck.

This is what he’s been craving. His mind a seismograph - those jittery waves of emotions now slipping flat and smooth. A reminder that he’s the only one that makes you feel this way.

Loose-limbed in his arms. Your grin lazy as you squirm against him, trying to catch the fingers that push you towards too much.

You feel a low laugh against your skin, as bristle of his beard tickles your cheek. Then, against the soft column of your throat. His lips following, as he starts to fuck you again.

Just as teeth scrape and then pinch the curve where shoulder meets neck. A rough groan against your skin, just before his lips close - sucking hard against the same spot.

You’re sure it will leave a mark. High above the strap of your dress. Near impossible to hide, and you find yourself thinking that he did that on purpose.

Tongue trapped between your teeth as you smile, going soft. Letting your hands drift now, smoothing over the soft fabric of his shirt. Slipping beneath his open jacket to hook your fingers into the hem of his pants.

Urging him to a quicker pace, as you tell him what he needs to hear.

“Yours.”

Finger pinch at your hips, angling them so he can drive deeper. You can just barely hear the wet suck with each thrust, again and again and again.

“Mine.” He echos, teeth gritting.

This time when you lean back, he lets you. A heave of his chest as your fingers drift down, until they slowly circle your clit.

Pleasure throbs but your touch is more for show, for him, letting him watch as your fingers split - framing where he sinks into you. That steady thrust starting to stutter, the only unsteady thing about him.

“Tell me you want it.” That harsh, pleading tone is back.

“God, I want it.” Your teeth sinking into your lip, before you sigh sweetly, “Please, daddy.”

It catches him off guard like you knew it would, his eyes darkening. How you offer up a piece of yourself like a tempting piece of fruit - how you would burst so sweetly on his tongue if he were to sink his teeth in.

“Only me, yeah?”

Only him.

He knew it was true. A hushed confession in the late night hour - a warmth in your cheeks as your face rested against his bare chest. Rising and falling with his steady breath, tender feelings betrayed by the flutter of his heart beneath your ear.

“I haven’t called anyone that before. Only you.”

“Only me, hm? Then perhaps you should let me hear it again.”

“Yes, daddy. Always-” One of your hands slips from the table, entwining with his, “I want you to come in me. I want to feel you, too-”

He comes with you begging for it.

A rough grunt paired with the rutting of his hips, until they press flush against you. Little shallow thrusts, keeping himself buried deep as he spills inside you - the last dregs of his jealousy swept along with the sharp burst of pleasure.

Leaving Alfred feeling foolish, a throbbing ache in his chest that matches the galloping of his heart.

You’re always so good to him. Thighs tightening against his hips, keeping him inside until you’re sure he’s been milked dry - until the throbbing twitch of his cock has ebbed.

He pants a breath, fingers still wrapped in yours. Wrinkling the fabric as his hips press flush with yours, keeping himself buried in you for another long moment.

Your mind always runs away with you.

Imagining slipping your panties down your thighs. Thinking how pretty they would look as a pocket-square - or tucked beneath, right against his heart.

Instead, he groans as he slips from you. A slow smile, as his lips brush yours, as you slump back fully against the tabletop.

You’re sure you look debauched - the dim light leaving you glowing, after your orgasm.

The straps of your dress slipping from your shoulders, skirts hiked up to where he has your panties still pushed to the side.

His fingers drifting across where you still gape from him, for just a moment. A look crossing his face that is almost smug, if he could be - before he’s tucking the lacy hem carefully back into place, tugging it snug against your cunt.

“Better?” You ask, breathless. Pushing yourself up, reluctantly starting to out yourself back together.

Relishing in the stolen moment, but knowing the night was not quite over. That it would be a little while longer before you were home - already dreaming about the hands that would wander beneath the warm water of a shared bath.

His fingers press down as he cups you. Grazing against the fabric, where it’s damp with him. Dripping from you and sticking to your skin, now that his cock no longer keeps it inside.

Alfred smiles, as he answers.

“Yes.”

(and then the table was purchased for a sizable donation as part of the “auction” and kept as a beloved souvenir 😌)

thank you so much for reading!! and for giving me an excuse to dive back into them again, it has been missed 💖

[stargirlfics]

naughty or nice? how about both!

Gifting Alfred Pennyworth something special he has to unwrap in private

700 words — 18+ ONLY!

from this ask: thoughts on giving a boudoir photobook to Alfred

Soft, jazzy tunes provided the soundtrack for the drive home, you and Alfred cozied up in the back of the car, reminiscing on the night's festivities.

Another birthday well spent, a compliment he gives you sweetly as he kisses the back of your hand, giving you no choice but to lean into his touch, elated that he had a good time.

You wanted him to feel special and perhaps a little selfishly you’d been looking forward to this point in the night, going home to be alone with him at last. Besides, there was just one more gift he had to open.

Placing the neatly wrapped present in his lap you wish him one last happy birthday, watching with held breath as his brow raised at the words that followed. He wasn’t allowed to open this one until you’re home. 

“Having fun with this, aren’t you darling. Very well, I’ll be patient.” Alfred acquiesced, amused at your unexpected tease. 

It’s all you either of you can quietly think about, your hand on his thigh, sharing glaces every now and then until your fingers laced together and before you know it the car is rolling to final stop. 

You have to hold back a laugh at his quick thank you to the driver before he’s whisking you out of the car by your hand, the quick tap of his cane and your own heartbeat a rhythm all the way up to the penthouse floor. 

It’s good to be home, the soft romance of the gothic arches and spires swaying you both, keeping you close together. Until your breath is going shallow once more, your gift opened. 

He sits up once he realizes it’s a book, his expression of surprise lingering only for a moment when he flipped past the first page, a picture of you on your hands and knees arched so prettily for him on your bed, the next page a coy tease shot of your chest in one of his shirts, another of you in familiar lingerie, each one making his heart throb and his pants tighten. 

The thought of you putting this together for him, a piece of you for only his eyes to see and indulge in made him feel incredible. You spoil him and he’s grateful for this and suddenly so very hungry for you. 

“Christ, look at you. Is that my tie?” he glances up after awhile, loathe to tear his eyes away from such beauty in this naughty photoshoot but your hopeful, sweet as pie expression was just as sweet to behold. 

“Mhm, my favorite blindfold.” You’re feeling bold and are rewarded for it. 

The way he looks at you in between steady flips of the pages like he’s drinking you in from every view of you he could get made you feel adored and eventually when he can’t keep his hands to himself anymore and he’s tugging you in so gently for a kiss that turns searing within seconds, you know and can feel how much he cherishes your gift. 

He marvels at each section of photos, reminding you how gorgeous you were and god it didn’t help when he shut the book to run his hands over the spine, a gentle caress of the cover. He was going to kill you but you knew you’d welcome it if it was like this.

This time it’s you who can’t resist going in for another kiss.

Alfred lets you set the pace but his hands refuse to remain idle, exploring the whole of you, appreciating every swell and curve, the dips of your body, the way you feel so damn perfect under his hands and in his arms. He wants to commit every inch to memory.

You chase his hands and his mouth, gripping onto sturdy forearms, happy to show him how much your own desires matched his but before you could go too far a steadying and firm hand curled against your jaw had you halting the way your hips were already squirming. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little stunt in the car, love. I fully intend to spend the rest of the night thanking you for such a pretty gift but not until I’ve had my fun with you first.”

whatever you say daddy!!! 🧎🏾‍♀️

[justanoasisimagines]

Dating Alfred Pennyworth...

Hey lovelies, back with another Headcanon! If you have any Gotham Headcanons you'd like to see feel free to drop them in my askbox! Credi to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

❀Alfred is hesitant to start dating. His main focus is on Bruce's wellbeing. He can't have any distractions. Even if he does find himself lonely most nights once Bruce has gone to bed.

❀However, it is Bruce who pushes Alfred. He doesn't let up and refuses to allow Alfred to suffer because of him. At one point Bruce tells Alfred it would be good to have a woman around the house.

❀Alfred asks Bruce if he's sure at least three times. He needs to be certain.

❀When Alfred starts dating he's cautious. He doesn't rush into things, taking his time. He likes to arrange dates during the day so he can be home when Bruce comes home from school.

❀When he meets you, Alfred knows there's something there. There's something about the way you conduct yourself. Alfred knows he's looking for something long-term. He's not going to bring people in and out of Bruce's life.

❀Alfred is an old-school gentleman. He is going to hold outdoors for you, insist he drives you everywhere. He's going to pay for the dates he takes you on. When you're with him, your safety is his priority. When you're with Alfred you've got nothing to fear.

❀Alfred is the kind of gentleman to give you his jacket when you're cold.

❀Alfred does not kiss on the first date. Being the respectful gentleman he is, he'll kiss you on the cheek.

❀Alfred would prefer to take you on dinner dates or a walk around the park. Any opportunity to talk so he can get to know you more.

❀Alfred would bring something to every date. Flowers, chocolate, anything that reminds him of you.

❀Alfred is slow initially in the progression of your relationship. He takes his time as things build.

❀He'll try and see you as frequently as possible, but he has a busy schedule with Bruce. Bruce will always come first.

❀Alfred desires to wait at least a year before you and Bruce meet. However, Bruce is far more impatient as the months go on. He goes around asking Alfred questions repeatedly. Even when Alfred informs him it's none of his business.

❀Introducing you to Bruce is the single most nerve-wracking thing he's ever done. He needs it to go well. By this point, Alfred has grown fond of you. He's beginning to see a future with you and for that to happen he needs you to have a good relationship with Bruce.

❀He's never been more relieved when it goes well.

❀Late-night calls. When Alfred's schedule is too hectic, he'll try and make time for you in the evening so you can at least talk. He'll ask about your day, how things have been going at work etc.

[fanfic-the-wish-your-heart-makes]

Part 3 of Gotham Characters React to You Getting Easily Scared by a Movie 👻☠😈😨🎃:

Jerome Valeska, Butch Gilzean & Alfred Pennyworth <-last part (part 2) Part 1

Jerome Valeska might make things worse for you at first. He thinks the movie is interesting but could use a few more jump scares.

The current scene isn't even that bad, you think, but still, maybe you should— "Boo!" "Aah!" "Sorry, sweetheart. Thought this movie was a little too boring." "Boring?" "Like not scary enough?" He nods. "Oh, definitely." Not for him of course. "I find it a bit too much." He grins at you. "Then let's stop. I can be your entertainment for the night."

Butch Gilzean is so considerate. While he loves to be the tough guy who you can cling to, he dislikes seeing you scared.

You jerk back the second time since the damn thing started, already wanting to bury your head in his chest. Maybe you should. He definitely wouldn't mind. "Hey, baby, you ok?" You sigh. "This isn't my type of movie." "Too scary?" Before you can respond, he adds, "I'm not judgin' you." You nod slowly. "Yes, that's exactly why." "Do you want me to switch it off?" "Yes, I think I need that, thank you." He shakes his head. "No problem, babe. I'm here if you need me." You let yourself sink into his embrace, hearing him sigh, happy to have you this close. Hugging him without being scared is way better anyways.

Alfred Pennyworth knows people, how they show or hide thoughts and emotions. He also knows that Wayne Manor is not cold enough for you to have goosebumps like this.

When the film surprises you, you startle a little and soon feel Alfred's hands move over your arms. Sensing your low temperature, he stops abruptly to look at you. "Goodness, you're shivering, dear. Are you alright? Is the film scaring you too much?" "I'm afraid so." "Well, then let's stop. There's no need to force yourself to watch it. Let me go grab a blanket for you and then we can decide what we'll do instead."

______________ Author's note: Maybe it's better that I'm posting this after Halloween, this way you might have made had an experience like this and can now read fluffy comfort about it 🥰

->part 4