#Gotham oneshot

[multifandomfanficss]

It’s About Time

Ed Nygma/The Riddler x Reader

Prompt: Ed offers to help you with time management when you tell him you’re stressed at work. Your conversation is interrupted by an attack on the GCPD by the Maniax.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, cannibalism, r*pists, abuse, and general graphic violence. Gotham typical violence. Mental health struggles. Sensory issues and meltdowns common with autism. Panic. Near death experiences. Claustrophobia. References to being buried alive. Nightmares.

A/N: I’m rewatching Gotham and I didn’t realize the missed potential for hurt/comfort the first time I watched this show 7 years ago. My work load has been really heavy lately, but this show broke me out of my writers block and I made time for the writing bug. This takes place in the middle of Ed’s Riddler arc. He hasn’t fully become the Riddler yet, but he has already made his first kill. The reader has qualities of an autistic person, but is not explicitly said to be autistic. I accidentally code a lot of my characters to be autistic because I am, but this was more intentional to reflect Ed’s autistic coding. Feel free to read into it or not! You don’t have to be autistic to read and hopefully enjoy this! Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

“I’ve been so stressed lately.” You sigh. “It’s like I can’t get anything done that I actually need to get done.” You stand in the hallway of the precinct talking to your friend Ed. You were stressing about this case and Jim Gordon was making you go through hundreds of old files for him. You were never part of the real action, but the horrifying crime scene photos and evidence you had to pull through everyday was taking a toll on you. Gordon’s time crunches never helped either. You understood that lives were often on the line, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“What can some people never get enough of and others say is too much? What has the ability to fly when having fun or is stuck completely frozen when you need it to move?” He smiles. You stare at him blankly. You had not been getting enough sleep. You loved hearing his riddles, but you were never the best at giving him the answers. It was so hard for your mind to keep track of it all. “Do you give up?” He asks.

“My brain just isn’t braining right now.” You laugh. “What’s the answer?”

“Time.” He beams, happy with himself. “You should try to implement a better time management plan. You look tired all the time. It’s like you’re not even sleeping.”

“Thanks, Ed.” You give a dry laugh.

“You know what I mean.” You nod in an agreement with him. “You might be the only person who usually knows what I mean.” He says, fiddling with his fingers and the buttons on his coat.

He was right. Nobody quite seemed to get him, but nobody quite seemed to get you either. You had always felt this odd draw to him that you could never quite explain. Truthfully you think you have feelings for him, but you always bury them. He saw you as a friend and he really needed a friend. Besides he had been pinning over Kristen since before you even got to the precinct. You had mixed feelings towards her. On one hand you felt bad for her. She was always getting mixed up with shitty boyfriends who treated her poorly, but on the other hand she had a mean streak. You never liked how she treated Ed. It was like he wasn’t a person with feelings to her and that made you so angry.

“You’re right. I haven’t been sleeping.” You tell him.

“Why is that?” He asks.

“We live in Gotham. With the terrifying shit we see everyday, I don’t know how anyone sleeps.”

“Are you having nightmares again?” He asks, his face painted with concern.

“It’s fine. It’s just work stress. It’s just this case. I’m fine.” You smile. It wasn’t a real smile. Your smiles always came so naturally around Ed that he knew something was off. He was about to press when you heard gunshots coming from down the hall. Your body immediately froze like a dear in headlights in the middle of the hallway.

You’ve had violent people in the precinct before and it always made you nervous, but this was different. The Maniax were on the loose and you knew they were too unhinged to care about survivors or bargains. With Jerome Valeska at the helm, along side cannibals, rapists, and murderers you were terrified. They’d escaped from Arkham days ago and already managed to murder dozens of people. This was far too close to the action for you, as you heard Jerome’s laugh bellowing down the hall from the bullpen; a laugh you remembered from one of your early cases at the precinct. You had felt bad for him and tried to help him when his mother died. You will never forget the laugh he let out when Jim realized he wasn’t as innocent as you’d thought. It ran a chill through your spine.

Everything started moving too fast when you realized you were being pulled down the hall quickly. Once you realized you were holding hands, you tightly grasped Ed’s hand, not wanting to be separated from him. He brings you further down the hall into the ME’s lab.

“W-where are we going?” You stutter. It’s like your mouth can’t keep up with your racing mind.

“Do you trust me?” He looks at you trying to stay calm.

“Ed, what are you doing?” You’re panicking. He can tell. It’s not hard to tell, as your hands fidget and your breathing is heavy. You’re trying to stay calm.

“(Y/N), I need you to trust me.” He places his hands on your shoulders in an effort to ground you with the pressure. You close your eyes and nod, hesitantly. You do trust him.

Ed runs to the cold lockers and opens one, checking to see if it’s empty. He finds a dead body inside. You cringe. Seeing bodies is rare for you and you’re still getting used to it.

“Oh dear… okay… second times the charm…” He mumbles to himself trying to find an empty locker. “Bingo!” He smiles, finding an empty one. The wheels start to turn in your head.

“No! I’m not getting in there!” Your panic increases. Ed shushes you.

“This is our best chance. I promise I’ll let you out as soon as I can.”

“We won’t be together?” Your eyes start to burn. You try to keep back tears. You’re shaking.

“We won’t both fit in the same one. I’m gonna go in the one above you-“

“No no please I- I don’t wanna be by myself! Please don’t leave me!” You cut him off and beg him. Ed awkwardly rubs his thumbs across your shoulders where he places his hands again, still trying to ground you. It’s awkward, but it’s still somewhat calming.

“I’m not leaving you. I would never leave you. I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I promise. I need you to trust me.” You’re not sure if it’s because it’s life or death, or if it’s because it’s Ed, but you reluctantly let him help your shaking body into the mortuary cabinet. When it comes time to let go of his hand and close the cabinet, you don’t want to. Despite quickly running out of time, he knows he needs to be patient. He knows how hard this is for you. He’s always known you’re a bit claustrophobic. He had no idea one of your worst fears was being buried alive. Being stuck in a cold locker wasn’t too far from either of those things. He can hear footsteps far down the hall. The Maniax were never subtle. He kisses the hand he’s holding quickly before closing your locker and climbing into his own. You were surprised by the kiss, but you couldn’t think about that right now and what it could have meant. Your mind couldn’t keep up. He had to leave his own locker unlocked, unable to properly close it from the inside, but he locked yours to make it look more convincing.

When Ed heard you cry, he began to whisper, hoping he could be loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for the Maniax to not notice. “It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m still here.” It was enough to quiet your sobs. Tears silently streamed down your cheeks. Ed’s voice had a certain gentleness to it when he spoke to you. He was being especially gentle now. You had seen him angry, upset, anxious, energetic, but his calm voice was reserved for you. Even in this moment when he was admittedly not very calm, he was trying his best to mask his own fears to keep you safe.

You always reserved parts of yourself for each other; parts of yourselves that the other person enabled you to be. You were never as bold as you wanted to be, but when people were rude to Ed you stuck up for him. He brought out a more confident version of you. For Ed, he knew you struggled with staying calm when you were stressed, upset, anxious or scared, even when you were happy. All of your emotions were so big and you rarely knew how to contain them. He tried to stay calm because he knew you saw him as a calming person in your life. He liked being your hero when everyone else only saw him as a weak, odd, nuisance. He also liked that he could read you and that you were honest with him. He trusted you and it helped keep the voice in his head at bay. He didn’t have to question himself with you. He didn’t have to take advice from the voice in his head.

You tried to keep your meltdown as quiet as possible when you heard footsteps approach. They were heavy, not ones you recognized. You knew it had to be one of the Maniax, probably the cannibal. You tried to make your breath as quiet as possible. After what you assume was a poor sweep of the room, the man leaves.

After what seems like hours of being trapped in a corpse you finally hear sirens and then chatter. You hear Ed climb out of the locker above you. He opens your locker and you let out an audible sob.

“I think they’ve gone.” He says, pulling out the drawer to let your body get some much needed air. You start gasping and sobbing, shaking on the drawer of the mortuary cabinet. Your body jolts up. You just want to get away from the locker.

“You’re okay! You’re okay!” Ed catches your body, as your start to fall from the drawer to the floor. You sit on the floor and cling to him, sobbing. At first awkward, he runs his hand along your back, trying to sooth you with the repetitive motion.

“I felt like I was dead- like- like I was gonna get buried alive-“ You gasp for air, sobbing between your words. Ed shushes you.

“We’re okay. They’re gone.” He promises.

You hear fast approaching footsteps. Your brain is moving too fast to decide if the footsteps are familiar or not. You just bury yourself further into Ed’s chest.

“Detective Gordon is here.” He informs you and you relax only slightly.

“Nygma, are they okay?” Jim asks.

“No mortal wounds, they’re just a bit shaken up.” He lets him know.

“You two should probably still get checked out. I need to finish scanning the building for everyone else. So far we’ve got 9 cops dead in the bullpen and… and the commissioner is dead.” He says. It’s almost like you hear Jim, but you don’t. Your mind can’t keep up with anything that’s happening.

After a while you find yourself sitting, waiting for Lee to check you out. Ed had been pulled away for a few minutes to do his job. He didn’t want to leave you, but you assured him you were fine. You didn’t feel fine, but you knew they needed him. As long as you could see him on the other side of the bullpen, you were reluctant, but okay with him stepping away. He left his jacket draped around your shoulders. It helped to be surround by his smell and warmth.

When it was time to go home, Ed guided you to his car. You hadn’t spoken much, but at least you’d finally stopped crying. The car ride was quiet. The only thing that filled the air was Ed’s occasional hum with the radio. Neither of you quite knew what to say. It was a bit ironic considering usually nobody could ever get you two to shut up. You didn’t speak up until he turned onto your street.

“I don’t want to go home.” You said quietly, feeling the panic rise again at the thought of being alone at home again.

“That’s understandable. Would you like to stay at my place?” He asks. You nod, silently. He flicks his turn signal and starts the drive to his place.

“Welcome to Château Nygma.” He smiles, turning on the light. You still have his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. Despite the terror you’ve been through today, his smile is refreshing. You don’t question how he can stay so seemingly sane in times like these, but you’re just glad somebody is. You need that. Maybe you should have questioned it, but you didn’t. He has a nice apartment. It’s not too big. Why would it be for a man who lived by himself? It’s just the right size with cool windows and a comfortable setup.

“Do you want something to eat? I’m a good cook.” He smiles. You don’t know how he can continue to smile, but you’re glad. It starts to make you feel safer. It’s nice to be in a locked apartment with just you and Ed. It’s nice to be in a quiet, secluded place, but not feel alone. It’s far better than sitting on your bed, scared of any serial killers that could be hiding underneath the frame and jumping at any people you hear in the stairwell of your apartment, with an open case file sitting next to you, worried the killers you’re reading about could be onto you any second. Today was a very close call. Too close.

“If you’re not sure, that’s okay too.” He continues, noticing you’re deep in thought.

“Oh…uh yeah… I’m not sure what I want… It’s like my body needs things, but I’m just a little bit too overwhelmed to figure it out.” You look down, shyly.

“Do you want to just sit? I can put on some music?” He questions referencing the record player with his hands.

“That sounds okay. I think I can do that.” You nod. He puts on some quiet music, not too loud to overstimulate you and you make your way to the couch. He brings you a glass of water.

“I can imagine it might be hard for you to have an appetite given your increased levels of adrenaline today, but you should at least drink this.” You take the water from him and begin to sip it. You didn’t realize how nice cold water could feel. You drink it quickly, before setting the glass down.

“Thank you.”

Ed sits down and you gravitate towards him.

“How do you do it?” You ask.

“How do I do what?” He looks for clarification.

“Your job. There’s so much death everywhere.”

“I don’t know. I just sort of do. Honestly I think it’s fascinating…” He pauses, looking away from you. “Sorry. That probably sounds weird.”

“It does, but that’s okay. I like the fact that you’re different and you’re honest. It’s comforting. You’re a better man than all of those crooked cops walking around beating up women and mobsters alike.”

“You think so?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do.” You smile. This time it’s a real smile. Ed smiles too. It’s nice to know after everything he’s done for you to make you comfortable, you can say something to make him feel better.

“I’m sorry all of this has been so awful for you.” He says.

“I know we’re doing good and it’s important to do good in a world of so much bad, but sometimes I just wish nobody had to do it. I can’t even fathom what would make somebody what kill another person. Maybe out of necessity, but it scares me that people actually enjoy it.”

“Yeah.” Ed shifts uncomfortably. You think he must agree with you and that’s why he’s unconformable. You don’t know that he killed Officer Doherty for abusing Kristen just over a month ago.

The two of you talk for quite some time until you end up falling asleep next to him on the couch. He doesn’t mind when you fall into his lap. He lets you sleep, smiling down at you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to wake you. He was afraid of breathing too deeply and shifting too much underneath you. He eventually falls asleep sitting up with you still in his lap.

Everything is peaceful until you shoot up screaming, in a cold sweat. You’ve had another nightmare. This time is different. You’re disoriented. You don’t know where you are. You feel hands touching you.

“(Y/N), it’s me! It’s Ed! You had another nightmare.” You look at his face to see him distraught, unsure of what to do. Your tossing and turning had woken him up. He was awake only seconds before you.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “I just want it to stop. When will all of this stop?” You cry.

“When will what stop?” He asks.

“Everything! I just want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop being afraid. I should be used to the job by now.”

“Maybe you just need more time to get used to it! I know we talked about time management earlier. I can help you with your schedule.” He offers.

“I don’t want to manage my time. I just want it to freeze. I just wish time would freeze so I could just breathe and catch up!”

Ed looks at you defeated. He doesn’t know what to say. He likes riddles because riddles always have answers. He doesn’t know what to do when there’s a problem with no solution.

“I’m sorry.” He settles with saying. “Would a hug help?” He’s just grasping at anything he’s seen people do when trying to comfort other people with problems and no solutions.

“Yes.” You say quietly, burying your head in his chest. Despite being the one to offer the hug, he’s a little awkward at first. He eventually settles in.

“Is this helping?” He asks.

“Yes.” You tell him. Of course, Ed being who he is, even now he’s still looking for a solution. He doesn’t realize he may be the solution, or at least someone to help make the problem smaller. “You always help.” You add.

“I’m sure most of our coworkers would disagree.” He laughs.

“I never thanked you for earlier today.” You say quietly.

“It was nothing.” He smiles.

“No, Ed. Keeping me safe in a life or death situation isn’t nothing.”

“I’m sure anyone would have done it.” He argues.

“No, they wouldn’t have.” You tell him.

“I’ll always protect you.” He pulls you closer, shifting awkwardly underneath you. “You know… my apartment is always open if you want to sleep with me- I- I mean sleep with me in attendance- I- I mean sleep with each other- I- I mean near each other- you know! In case you have nightmares!”

“I might just have to take you up on that. This is the first night I’ve felt okay enough to be able to maybe go back to sleep afterwards.” You smile, trying not to laugh. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him. Truthfully you think he’s sweet and funny.

“You should go back to sleep and since I didn’t get to make you dinner I’ll be making you the best breakfast of your life tomorrow.” He beams.

“You better.” You snuggle into him. Ed is too awkward to suggest you go lay in his bed tonight and you’re too tired to care. You spend the rest of the night on the couch together. You can save the bed for tomorrow night. You know when you wake up in the morning you’ll be coming back. It was the most sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

Ed wakes up before you and sneaks off the couch to start breakfast. He truthfully was a very good cook. His own sensory issues with food made him very particular about how it’s prepared. You wake up to the smell of something good in the oven. Ed is nowhere to be seen, but you hear him in the bathroom. He’s talking. You knew he often talked to himself, but he sounded like he was talking to someone else. Maybe he was on the phone. You were sure you were hearing one half of a conversation.

“I told you we could trust them. They like me for me. They think I’m a good man.”

[justanoasisimagines]

To my puzzle piece

Hey Lovelies, back with another love letter. As always requests are open and my request guidelines are pinned at top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

I have been admiring you for a while. Seeing you from afar and what a precious gem you are. You bring such light to my dark days. You force light into my shadow while I shy away.

I need you to see me. For what I am. An enigma, a poet, a force to be reckoned with. I wish for you to be at my side. Until my dying breath, I will always be your greatest protector.

No harm will come to you. They will regret it. They will know my wrath, they will feel the sharpness of my mind. No one would ever harm you, mentally or physically. That I can guarantee.

I can see our future. I have it all planned out. Me and you against the world. I can see us walking hand in hand down the street. I can see us dancing to our own beat. I can see us falling in love. I can see you being my one true love.

Please notice ne for you are my missing puzzle piece. You will make me complete. I see you at lunch. You've passed me in the corridor, you've passed me in the street. You look right through me. I still hold hope.

No, you will notice me whether you like it or not. You will give me the future I have created for us. It will happen. No matter what. I am coming for you whether you like it or not!

See you soon my little puzzle piece

?

[awhoreintheory]

okay so MCU canon Peter in DC is all funny and games but what about comic canon Peter? Peter who’s in his 30s, whose life is falling apart(again) and has clones to deal with(man I hate the fact that Ben became evil :(.)

extra points if Miles and/or Mayday is with him. This single dad is STRUGGLING. And the bats wanna help him/his kids cause man! Look at them :(

(extra extra points if Dick = Richard Parker. That’s a whole nother can of worms. Like the bats are thinking Peter = Family of Dick they didn’t know but NO! It’s actually Dick’s son! Dicks a granddad!)

I want to PSA to anyone sending asks/requests, I'm not ignoring you!! I'm just a slow writer!!! I hope you enjoy though <33

Peter B. Parker could, 100%, picture landing in (yet another) alternate universe. You know what? As a matter of fact, he expected it.

What he didn’t plan for, however, was being stranded in another universe with his baby girl strapped to his chest. 

But here he was, crouched in a narrow alley in the darkest corner of Gotham City, New Jersey. From the name alone, Peter knew he landed himself in a section of the Multiverse Miguel had expressly labeled as off limits. It wasn’t his fault he’d landed here, though!

One minute he’d been web-swinging through New York, enjoying a rare peaceful day with Mayday babbling happily, and the next he was crash-landing onto a grimy rooftop in the most dangerous city he’d ever seen. It was like New York turned up to eleven, all shadows and towering gargoyles, dripping with rain that seemed perpetual. The interdimensional bracelet he’d been given to travel the multiverse was sparking and smoking in his pocket— total toast. He was officially stranded. 

Ok, so it maybe, kinda sorta, been an eensy weensy, tiny bit Peter’s fault. 

Peter’s, very high-tech and likely expensive bracelet had been, uh, scratched in a fight the day before. Barely even a nick! He swears he could’ve reattached the wires and fixed the screen. 

He probably should’ve also taken the watch out of his robe pocket before he started swinging Mayday to daycare. 

MJ was going to be so mad. 

It became evident early on it’d take a little bit to find a way home, or for someone to find him. If it had just been Peter, he could’ve roughed it on some rooves and abandoned buildings. It wouldn’t be a big deal, he knew he would be getting home eventually. Being a little smelly was the least of his worries. 

But he had his baby girl with him. 

So, with the money in his wallet, he found an under-the-counter, rundown but otherwise warm, apartment in a place called Crime Alley. (What a seriously terrible name) Peter started pulling together whatever side gigs he could, fixing appliances, tuning up electronics, just enough to get by. Even for a guy who was used to scraping by, the situation felt bleak, especially with Mayday depending on him. 

His little red-headed whirlwind was still too young to understand what was happening, but she noticed the tension and started clinging to him more tightly. Peter knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, but he wasn’t sure how to trust anyone in a city that had both criminals and vigilantes lurking around every corner. When he spotted someone in a cape swinging overhead, he instinctively hid in the shadows, holding Mayday close, her tiny face tucked into his shoulder.

But the Bats noticed him. 

It was hard not to notice a single dad with no records, no job, and no explanation for why he was squatting in Gotham’s most dangerous neighborhood. Bruce, ever vigilant, put out word to the family to keep an eye on him. 

Jason, who patrolled Crime Alley, wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “A guy moved into my turf with a baby?” he grumbled to Tim. “Either he’s got a death wish, or he’s crazy.” 

Tim, on the other hand, was fascinated by the mystery. He dug through every database he had access to, and then some. But “Peter Parker” returned zero results— at least, none that matched this Peter Parker. no criminal record, no birth record, no online footprint. It was like he just spawned in! 

Dick didn’t have a whole lot of opinions. He thought the man was nice, though he had only met him once in a routine mugging. He evidently cared for his daughter, and matched Nightwing’s wit and humor pretty nicely, too. He looked annoyingly familiar too. Maybe it was Tired Dad Chic? He kind of reminded him of Bruce, in a way. 

Steph seconded the funny part. This Peter guy could be one of those dark-humor comedians. 

From what they observed, and conversations supplied by Jason (who was his neighbor in a series of fortunate events), Peter really did seem to just be an ordinary guy.  

Then one night, Peter was picking up groceries from a corner store when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find a man in a ski mask brandishing a knife, gesturing for his wallet. 

“Hand over the money, and I won’ hurt ya’ kid.” The man threatened, waving his knife around threateningly. Peter tensed, dropping his groceries in favor of cradling Mayday closer. 

Peter blinked at him tiredly. “The best I can offer is some lint and a can of beans.” 

The man tensed, stepping closer in an attempt at intimidation. Peter thought that his face turning red with anger was kind of funny.

“Don’t fuckin’— are you makin’ fun of me?” The man fumed. Peter might have let out a sleep-deprived chuckle, partially forgetting to respond. 

The mugger lunged, and before he could dodge, Peter felt a searing pain in his side as the blade plunged in, his vision blurring with the shock. Normally, Peter would’ve disarmed the guy without breaking a sweat, but tonight, with Mayday in his arms and his body worn from days of restless sleep, he kind of just… blinked and the knife was there. 

Peter blinked again, then looked back up at the man.

“Oh, wow,” he said, his voice dripping with deadpan sarcasm. “A knife in Crime Alley? Super original. Really, I’m honored to be a part of your creative process.”

The mugger blinked, clearly caught off guard. Peter rolled his eyes, adjusting Mayday to better apply pressure to his side. “Next time you stab a guy, maybe aim for someone with insurance.”

The mugger stumbled back, looking increasingly confused by Peter’s lack of fear. Peter sighed, bouncing Mayday gently as she began to fuss. “Listen, I’m already running on no sleep and the caffeine fumes of yesterday’s coffee. And now you’re just making my night even worse.”

Peter winced, feeling the slow but consistent leak of blood. His healing factor was helping, but it was dulled due to lack of sleep and hunger. 

Between one long blink and the next, someone had jumped down and knocked out Peter’s would-be mugger. 

After another blink Peter realized he was on the ground, Mayday’s wails filled the air, her cries echoing down the alleyway, and Peter tried to smile through the pain. “It’s okay, baby,” he mumbled, clutching her tightly. “Daddy’s fine… just a little… scratch.” But his vision was going hazy as he pressed a hand to his bleeding side. The world began to spin.

One of the vigilantes that Peter recognized as Red Robin rushed over, talking hurriedly into a comm. Peter blinked up at him, his mouth curling into a weak smile. “Hey, nice costume,” he muttered. “Does the utility belt come in dad sizes?” 

Red Robin blinked in surprise, but otherwise keept his focus as he worked to stop the bleeding.

“It doesn’t, unfortunately.” Red Robin offered, popping open his emergency med kit. “I’ve got help on the way, ok? Stay awake for me.” But his attention was snagged when Mayday, overcome with distress, reached out to him, her tiny hands gripping his arm. She wasn’t just clutching it— she was sticking to him, her fingers locked like suction cups on his suit. Tim’s eyes widened as she scrambled up his arm, scaling it like a bug on a wall. 

Red Robin took it in stride, scooping Mayday up as he continued to work. Peter had been on the Meta radar for a bit— a few things here and there just a little off, and it was mostly based on Red Robin’s time spent with super-powered individuals. 

But as he patched up Peter, he discreetly swiped a sample of blood, stashing it in his belt just as the Batmobile pulled up. 

—

Later that night, he ran the sample through the Batcomputer, expecting some small lead. A Meta, possibly insect-based? What with how the kid had stuck to him. Instead, the results left Tim absolutely speechless. 

Peter Parker, the man who was in his early 40s and a single father, didn’t just match someone in the system— it matched Dick Grayson.

Not as a brother, or a cousin, but as a son. 

Tim must’ve ran the test at least 100 times. It came back the same every single time. 

Tim called Bruce and the rest of the family, each of them crowding around the screen with varying levels of shock and amusement as the analysis rolled in. Dick was dumbfounded, staring at the results in disbelief. 

“You’re telling me this guy is my… son?” he stammered, struggling to wrap his mind around it. 

Bruce, socially unaware in all his glory, tried to comfort Dick. “He’s likely from far into the future. Barry said there was a ripple in the timestream around the time Peter showed up.” 

“So what does that make Mayday?” Jason asked, snickering. 

“His granddaughter?” Steph said with a teasing grin. 

“Wow, Dick. You went from a dad to a grandpa in the same minute.” 

“That’s gotta be a world record.”

“You think we can submit this for a Guinness World Record?”

Dick groaned, rubbing his temples as Jason laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“He’s from the future, right? Something must’ve gone wrong on his end," Tim said, folding his arms with a thoughtful look. "He’s definitely got the skills. Moves like you, Dick. It's obvious he's had training.”

Dick couldn't help but smirk, puffing up a little with pride. “Of course he does. He’s got Grayson blood in him, after all.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, because the whole ‘falling on his face with a baby strapped to him’ bit? So graceful.”

Tim rolled his eyes, trying to stay on track. “Look, I don’t know why he didn’t come to us for help in the first place, but the point is, he’s family. We should get him back to his time, if that’s even possible.” He looked over to Bruce. “Are any speedsters available? Maybe the League could lend us Wally or Barry—"

“Hold on,” Dick interrupted, frowning. “I’m not sure we’re ready to ship him off just yet. The guy’s been trying to make it on his own. He’s got a baby to look after, and I think he’s afraid of dragging us into whatever’s going on with him. You know this family and their pride.”

Damian, who had been silent up to this point, finally piped up, his arms crossed. “I’ve seen him with the baby. She’s… persistent.” There was an almost begrudging respect in his tone. “But he clearly doesn’t have the resources to keep her safe here. If he did, he wouldn’t be living in Crime Alley.”

Dick nodded. “Exactly. The guy’s holding it together with duct tape and dad jokes. We can help him and get him back on his feet while we figure out a way home.”

Bruce, listening intently, finally spoke up. “He’s right. Until we find a way to get him home, Peter and his daughter stay here. We’ll pull together whatever resources we can to help them both.” 

Steph and Tim shared a look. He just wanted to meet his grandson and great-granddaughter. 

There was a beat of silence as everyone absorbed the decision, and then Tim looked at Dick, a small smirk playing on his lips. “So… you ready to be a dad, Dick?”

Dick flushed, looking a mix of horrified and pleased. “I’ll just stick to ‘Uncle Dick’ for now. Baby steps.”

EXTRA:

“Hey,” Jason drawled, barely suppressing a smirk as he looked over at Dick, “you think we can submit this for a Guinness World Record? Fastest unplanned parenthood, or maybe most confusing family reunion?”

Dick rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide his grin. “Very funny, Jay. Maybe we can submit you for most inappropriate comments per minute.”

Jason chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Just saying, man, it’s impressive. One day you’re Nightwing, lone acrobat extraordinaire, and the next? Boom— you’re the proud father of a scruffy, interdimensional— what'd you say it was, Tim? Spider-dad? A Spider-dad.”

Tim snickered, glancing up from his laptop. “We’re all just living in a 'Strangest Family Reunion’ reality show at this point. Besides, if anyone’s submitting to Guinness, it should be Peter for most relentless optimism under terrible circumstances.”

Bruce cleared his throat, giving them all a look. “Enough. This isn’t a joke. We have a situation to handle here.”

Dick, still grinning, turned back to Bruce. “All right, fine, we’ll save the record-breaking for later. Right now, I say we start by finding this guy and getting him some real help.”

[starry-bi-sky]

tales of the passerine - danny fenton being bruce wayne's first kid

okay okay. so this is like a continuation/elaboration of my oneshot/prompt i wrote about the idea that Danny was the first batkid. We have a lot of aus where he joins the family after the rest of the bats do, right? So hey! Lets shake things up a bit. Danny is the first to be adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Danny's parents and unfortunately Jazz die shortly after the events of TUE -- how so? I was gonna say an ecto-filter explosion, that would call back to the TUE explosion and trauma behind that. But lets do something new! Carbon-monoxide poisoning.

It's not too unexpected for something to break in the Fenton house, especially with the Fenton parents' questionable understanding of proper weapon handling and lab safety. The water heater broke from a stray shot by one of the weapons, and was promptly MacGyver'd incorrectly. Danny went to stay with Tucker for a guys' night, and came back to a dead silent house.

(Danny's neighbors got a very unfortunate shock when he ran to the next house over in hysterics.)

There was a lot of shuffling around with CPS, the police. People had to be called in to handle the equipment in the lab, and the GIW was rumoring to show up in aid to clearing the scene. When Danny heard of that, he immediately went and dismantled the ghost portal to the best of his abilities. He burned the physical blueprints of all his parents' inventions, their blueprints on the ghost portal, and their most dangerous weapons were destroyed beyond recognition. Anything to prevent the GIW from getting their hands on his parents' tech.

It opened up another investigation, but he was not under the list of suspects. He was placed in the care of Vlad Masters, where they then went back to the rebuilt castle mansion in Wisconsin. Danny, terrified of the future that has once passed and may do so again, shuts down in his grief. Inadvertently, he ends up somewhat repressing his ghost half. Something Vlad, who is grieving Madeline but relishing in Jack's demise and his custody of Daniel, is not very happy with.

Vlad's... gone into a bit of a mental health spiral. He's becoming increasingly possessive over Daniel, the final remnants of his friends and a liminal being like him. He doesn't like that Danny's repressing his ghost half -- both out of genuine concern as a ghost, but also because of his desire to control Danny and groom him into the perfect son. If you ever had a phase where you read Dark SBI found family fics, first off; me too bro, and second off; those are the vibes I'm thinking of.

Danny's mentally shut down from grief! And fear. He's dropped into a bad depressive state -- paralyzed with grief and the terror of the inevitable. Clockwork saved his parents because he believes in second chances, but what's the point of that when his family ended up dead anyways? Danny doesn't wanna believe that he's destined to become evil, and he's holding out onto that hope, but it's a thin line, and he feels utterly hopeless and trapped. He hasn't used his powers or ghost form since he trashed the lab, and Vlad has alarms set up to prevent him from trying to escape.

He's also unintentionally cut off Sam and Tucker -- both of whom are so scared and concerned for Danny too, and are trying their damndest to reach out to him. He keeps ignoring their texts. Danny basically haunts Vlad's manor. He goes out to eat if he has to, attends parties Vlad drags him to, and stays in his room all day if he can.

At parties, Vlad doesn't allow Danny to leave his side, or really talk to anyone -- not that Danny wants to. A product of Vlad's increasing possessiveness. Well, he almost doesn't let Danny leave his side. Danny has a habit of slipping off to hide somewhere for the parties whenever he can, and Vlad reluctantly allows it so long as he stays alone.

This becomes an advantage when eventually, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham after missing for years, and holds a bright charity ball to celebrate the return. Vlad has been chomping at the bits to get his hands on Wayne Industries, and with the return of its owner there is no better opportunity to wipe out his rival. He goes, and he as normal, brings Daniel with him.

Vlad thinks Wayne will bleed his little heart out for Daniel's poor orphan sob story -- he's a fellow orphan himself, after all. He's not wrong; Wayne's little heart will bleed, just not in the way that benefits him.

Bruce sees Vlad and Danny approaching before they're even close enough to introduce themselves - and like with many of the children he will soon come to care for, it's like someone set a mirror into the past right in front of him.

Danny Fenton's suit is tailor-made for him, and despite the fact that it's his perfect size, the sag in his shoulders, the ducked down head, and the way he hunches into himself all pictures the image of a child in shoes too big for him. There's a far away, glazed over look in his eyes and grief marble-cut into the lines of his face. There's not enough makeup in the world that will hide the dark circles under his eyes.

("My nephew, Daniel Fenton." Vlad's hands are possessive on Danny's shoulders. Bruce immediately notices the way the boy tenses under his touch. "His parents passed recently, and as his godfather I was designated his guardian.") ("I'm so sorry, the loss must've been terrible.") ("Yes, carbon-monoxide poisoning caused it. Daniel was out with friends, when he came home... they had already passed.") (Bruce immediately dislikes that Vlad shared the details of their death unprompted -- he likes it even less when Danny flinches at the reminder and hunches into himself.)

Danny runs off at some point earlier into the charity. At this point, parties are still being held at Wayne Manor (because iirc google search mentioned that was a thing at first before it was changed), so he disappears and hides in one of the empty rooms nearby. It just so happens to be the same room Bruce Wayne hides in when he needs a break from all of the socialization.

Thus begins a long, long process of trust. Bruce can't reveal his hand as being smarter than he looks, but he can be compassionate. Kindness needs no measure of intelligence. He keeps Danny company for as long as he can before he runs the risk of being found.

Rinse and repeat. Vlad insistently wants Wayne Industries, and he'll go to as many Wayne parties as he can to get his hooks into the man. The problem is that Bruce Wayne is never alone, and getting him alone is impossible. Finding him too. It's like the man never stops moving. Always talking to someone, always circling somewhere. He orbits around the room as if he isn't the sun of the Gotham Elite's solar system.

Danny's had such repetitive behavior that Vlad never thinks to believe that Bruce Wayne is disappearing to go talk to him. That "Vlad's" son is even interacting with him at all. Danny never gives him a reason to think so, and neither does Bruce.

Danny doesn't actually acknowledge Bruce until a handful of parties in, where he hands Bruce a small slip of paper he smuggled in that says; "don't trust Vlad". Danny's face stays carefully blank, but he's so tense that his hands are trembling, and he's purposely looking away from him. Bruce plasters a smile onto his face, slips the paper into his pocket, and tells him "okay".

(he's been busy with his own goals with the mafia, but he sets aside time to investigate Vlad Masters. He was holding off. Until now.)

Danny does eventually start speaking to Bruce, he's starting to really like the guy. He's starting to see a little hope, even as Vlad is starting to get more and more agitated with him the more he refuses to use his powers.

He reaches out to Sam and Tucker again, and starts trying to reconnect with them. Vlad has spyware on his phone, and he limits the amount of times he can talk to them. A weird parental control lock of some sort that leaves a time limit on how long he can talk to them for. 30 minutes. Danny doesn't tell them anything about Mr. Wayne.

Danny, slowly, wants out of here, and he's slowly gathering the motivation to do it. Vlad is genuinely scaring him -- and Danny wonders just how truthful the past-future Vlad was when he told him that Danny wanted his ghost half separate. He starts trying to come up with an escape plan.

Vlad has anti-ghost wards everywhere around the mansion, and while they're always on, they boost to full power at sunset. The doors and windows are always locked, all main exits have alarms set on them. The only reason it's not super extensive is because Danny hasn't tried leaving at all yet, so Vlad hasn't had to tighten anything.

At night, Vlad locks the door to his room and puts up an anti-ghost ward around the room. The mansion is on the outside westward side of Madison, more entrenched in rural Wisconsin. The closest town is a four-way stop sign with one house on three corners, and an open bar on the fourth. Not much to go.

He refuses to go to Sam and Tucker; Vlad would look there first. It's too dangerous. Vlad would sound alarm bells and have a manhunt looking for him, Danny can't risk going just anywhere. Too much risk of being found, sold out, or caught. There's really nowhere for him to hide.

Until there is. Bruce is telling Danny about the history of Wayne Manor, and says, as casually as saying the weather; "The manor has dozens of empty rooms, I'm sure Alfred wouldn't mind filling another one if he could." And quietly, hesitantly, Bruce places a careful hand on Danny's shoulder, unrestrictive and gentle; "He wouldn't mind getting one ready for you if you need one."

And there it is. There's his out.

Danny, just as quietly, replies; "I'll keep that in mind."

The ball starts rolling.

Now I've been trying to summarize this au as much as possible for length convenience, but Vlad has been steadily growing more and more controlling. More emotionally manipulative. More agitated at Danny for not using his powers.

He wants Wayne Industries under his thumb but he's been steadily growing more and more concerned with Danny. He's started grabbing him, yanking him around, shaking him; trying to goad him into using his powers. He gets angry when Danny doesn't react, or tells him he doesn't want to use his powers. He hasn't outright attacked him, but he's getting there. This has been happening over the time it takes for Bruce to indirectly offer Danny sanctuary at his home.

It all comes to a head when Vlad stops going to parties at all -- something Danny has to pretend he isn't upset about -- because Vlad doesn't want him around other people anymore. Vlad rarely goes now without him, and only leaves to go to a Wayne function or to handle something at VladCo.

Danny can't wait for Vlad to leave long enough to escape. So he leaves during the night of a big storm. Vlad's locked him in his room, but Danny doesn't bother trying to go for it; he goes to the alarmed window instead. Danny's been repressing his ghost half so long that he can't access his powers immediately anymore -- he can feel it, he knows its there, but he can't quite reach it.

He breaks the lock by hand.

Immediately the alarm goes off through the entire castle, filling the room with red, and he scrambles for the rope the Wisconsin Ghost left for him a few months back. Danny's already out and climbing down the side of the castle before Vlad even reaches his door -- the only good thing about the entire room being ghost-proof is that Vlad can't get in that way.

The rope ends before it reaches the bottom, and he's still twenty feet in the air. It won't kill him if he lands it right. Danny takes his chances, and drops. He breaks his ankle, but he survives.

And he fucking books it to the back garden. He hears Vlad shrieking over the thunder and rain.

I'll save the full experience for a future oneshot, but Danny makes it out into the nearby woods and forcibly experiences what it's like to be in a horror game, trying to hide from the thing that's hunting you. There's only one thing going through his mind; "i'm going to die"

I have this mental image for this scene. Very stereotypical horror imo. Where Danny is hiding behind a tree, with a hand over his mouth, and Vlad is a few feet away from him, glowing ominously red through the trees, trying to search for him.

Danny doesn't get away from this unscathed, but he does get away alive. That's all he could ask for. He gets away by getting his ghost half awakened long enough to transform into Phantom and fly to Gotham.

But he gets to Wayne Manor, he gets to Bruce. Or, at least, Alfred answers the door from his insistent pounding. Danny's just in tears and Alfred gets him in the living room, wrapped in a towel, with ice on his swollen leg before he has to step out and alert Bruce.

Bruce already breaks multiple traffic laws on a nightly basis. And that's just with the sheer existence of the batmobile itself, not including the speeding and military artillery attached. He breaks double the amount trying to speed back to the cave and get out of the suit.

Right off the bat: Bruce will know, at least before Dick enters the picture, about danny's powers. He'll figure out something considering the fact that Danny traveled from Wisconsin to New York in a single night. That'll be a bit of complicated affair, but I've already got something in mind.

Actually it'll probably be very soon after Danny joins the family, because Bruce tries to offer to fight for custody for Danny - the state Danny was in at arrival is clear enough evidence for a trial. But Danny immediately shuts it down, says it's not going to work and then Vlad will know Danny's with him and he won't be safe. He tells him that Vlad cannot know Danny was with Bruce.

Danny's biggest regret was not telling his parents he was a halfa, and while he doesn't want to tell mister wayne (yet), he does tell him about Vlad being one. He needs to know why Danny can't be seen with Bruce. So he tells him, and Danny's current plan is to just hide out from Vlad until he turns 18. That way, he has no more legal jurisdiction over him. After that? He's not sure.

And to wrap this up, since this has already gotten very long and I can make more posts about this au later; I've thought about it, and I'm going to say that Danny does become a vigilante before Dick enters the scene. He goes by, as you probably guessed; Nightingale. "Gale" for short.

[pitchsidestories]

You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare II Ali Krieger x Mewis!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2599

The heat of the day was gone, and it started to cool down in New Jersey. The breeze made you shiver, so did the words of Ali Krieger with whom you had a love affair for the past weeks: “Y/n, you’re 13 years younger than me and I just go through a separation from my wife.” “Ali.”, you tried to soothe her doubting face. Sadness lay in the eyes of the defender while she was looking at you: “I can’t do that.” “But you kissed me first and you said that it meant something to you.”, the hurt in your voice was undeniable.

Regret was shimmering through her words: “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re way too young for me.” “I’m not that young, Ali.”, you interjected. Eyerolling Ali countered: “You’re 26.” “Yes, which makes me an adult.”, you protested. Softly the older woman replied:” I know you’re.”

This didn’t change the fact that you were 13 years younger than her, this much you both knew.  The defender made very clear that it was time to end the thing whatever you two had going on before anyone could get too hurt. So, you decided:” I should go.”

Meanwhile Ali’s daughter Sloane was standing right behind you and interrupted your talk, with big eyes she pleaded:” Don’t go, you promised me a good night story.” “No, she’s right. She should go.”, the dark-haired woman declared. The toddler looked disappointed at her mother: ”But-“ “It’s okay, Sloane. Maybe, we’ll do that another time in the future.” , you reassuringly hugged the little girl.

Audibly Ali cleared her throat: “Goodbye, I hope I’ll see you soon.” “We play in the same team, so I guess we can’t avoid seeing each other.”, you reminded her. Nervously the older woman went through her hair with one hand: “Yes, sure.” “Bye.”, you waved at them. “Goodbye.”

Were those tears shimmering in her beautiful brown eyes? But weren’t you the one who was allowed to grieve the possibility of what you two could have become when she ended it? Confused you left the home of the woman who broke your heart.

A worried Sloane looked up to her mother:” Why do you look so sad, momma?” “I’m not. I just have a hard decision to make. But it’s bad time for you now.”, Ali tried to shrug it off. “No.”, the toddler whined. “Yes, come on.”, the defender’s lips curled up into a tired smile as she knew all too well that her daughter would be soon asleep by the time her small head hit her pillow.

“Ali! Lynn! Doesn’t my little sister look super hot in this outfit?“, Kristie Mewis yelled a week later at Gothams next NWSL game. It has become kind of a ritual that the players took pictures of their outfits before the games for social media. You stood in front of the camera, rolling your eyes at your older sister; “Kristie, stop it.“ “Just admit that I picked it out for you!“, she protested with a laugh. You objected, frowning; “I picked it out. You just lend me the clothes!“ “I picked it out!“, Kristie insisted again. You could easily forget that she was the older one. “Whoever did it, I’m sure every queer woman would be happy to unpack her.“, Lynn interrupted your discussion with a wink.

Ali who stood next to her, waiting for her turn to be photographed, said flatly; “What’s there to unpack? She’s barely wearing anything.“ You could feel your cheeks heat with anger. Before you could answer, Kristie looked at the defender; “Don’t be mean, Ali. It’s a cute fit.“ She gave you a proud smile while Ali shrugged; “It’s true, Kristie.“ Your sister deliberately ignored her negative comments and walked up to you; “Come here. Let’s take some sister photos together to send to Sammy.“ “Sammy will pout forever about the fact that she wasn’t included in this picture.“, you reminded Kristie and immediately smiled at the thought of your other sister who currently played in Kansas. Kristie grinned into the camera; “Let’s be honest, she probably would have ruined it.“ “Still, you know her.“ “Yes, I do.��, she rolled her eyes.

You had taken a quick selfie with Kristie too and texted it to Sam. Now you held up your phone in Kristies face; “Told you. She’s already pouting in her text messages. We need to send her a good snack for when she’s doing her next podcast episode to make up for it.“ “Trust me, she’ll survive.“, Kristie replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. Lynn nodded in agreement; “Yeah, she’s already busy with other things. Sammy will forget about that photo by tomorrow.“ As her podcast partner, Lynn always knew what Sam was up to. “Yeah, you two are probably right.“, you shrugged but sent your sister in Kansas a heart emoji anyway. “We are. Believe us.“, Kristie winked.

After the match Ali was standing next to your locker, arms crossed in front of her chest: “Where do you think you’re going with this outfit?” “I’m going out.”, you shrugged with your shoulders. Although her reaction fuelled your anger. She did not have a right to react jealous. Curiously she asked: “Out? With whom?” “Oh, just with Kristie and some other teammates.”, you replied nonchalantly.

Bitterly the defender answered:” Go and have fun then.” Innocently smiling Kristie intervened: “Isn’t Ashlyn looking after your kids tonight? Come on, Ali. You should join us.” “I don’t think Ali is interested in partying with us.”, you told her. Much to both of your surprise the captain of the team replied:” You know what? Why not? I got nothing else to do.” “Great, this is going to be so much fun.”, your older sister chirmed. A small smile lightened up Alis whole face: “I’m sure it will be.” “We’ll see about that.”, you whispered frustrated.

The club Kristie chose was new and trendy and settled in Manhattan. The music was good, and you and your teammates enjoyed the night out. A stranger came up to you: “Hi, can I get you a drink?” She looked pretty and you could not help but to nod along: “Sure.” “No.”, Ali interrupted the talk between the two of you. “No? I think I can decide that on my own.”, you huffed. Determined the defender shook her head: “No, you can’t.” With these words she took your hand and walked off with you.

Furiously you glanced at her: “Seriously, what the fuck Ali?” “What? It’s impolite. You’re out with us.”, she pointed out. Annoyed with her actions you scoffed: We both know that’s not why you did it.” “Maybe not. But that doesn’t matter. The others don’t have to know.”, Ali admitted.  “Don’t worry, Kristie doesn’t know with whom I spent my summer.”, you disclosed. The mentioning of your older sister made the dark-haired woman smile in amusement:” “Kristie doesn’t seem to be bothered anyway. She’s on the phone with her girlfriend.” “And where are Kelley and Lynn?”, you couldn’t help but to ask. While Ali took you on to the dance floor without asking you: “At the bar.” “Oh.”

“Come on. You should have some fun.”, she smirked. As you were starting to move to the music you wanted to know from her:” Are you enjoying your parenting free night?” “I do.”, with that said you could feel her hands placed around your hips. You tried to keep your tone light: “That’s great.” “But I do miss them.”, the older woman answered. A sigh escaped your lips:“I miss them too to be honest.” “They miss you too.” Surprised you looked at her:”Really?” “Sure. You’ve met them quite a few times.”, Ali replied while her fingers touched your naked skin which made you shiver. Secretly you hated that your body still reacted to her like this.

Apparently, she had also noticed your reaction because she quickly pulled her hand away. “Yes, that’s true.“, you replied, trying to ignore what had just happened. Ali furrowed her eyebrows, looking at you intently; “Are you okay?“ “Yes, I’m fine… I think I’ll go home now.“, you explained, turning away from her. “Already?“ “Yes. Good night, Ali.“

You took your bag and were about to leave when you suddenly felt her hand close around your wrist. “Let me bring you home. Your sister obviously isn’t going to.“, Ali decided rather than offered. You followed her gaze to Kristie, who stood off to the side with her phone pressed to her ear and giggled about something her girlfriend must have said. “We should not interrupt her when she’s talking to her girlfriend.“, you had to admit. Ali finally let go of your hand; “I’m sure the others will make sure that she gets home safe. But now let me take you home.“

Your brain was constantly screaming at you while you accepted the offer and followed Ali to her car. The car ride was unusually silent but you were half expecting the awkwardness already. When the car stopped in front of your apartment building, you realized that Ali had gotten out of the car to open the passenger door for you. You gave her a tight smile; “Thanks for bringing me home.“ “You’re welcome.“, she answered politely. While pulling the keys out of your bag, you noticed that Ali hasn’t moved.

With a sigh, you turned to her, finally asking you the question that was bothering you the whole night; “Ali… did you already find someone new?“ The defender seemed taken aback by the question; “No. I’m not looking for someone right now.“ “I see.“ “It’s all a bit much right now. I thought I’d focus on myself and my children. What about you? Are you seeing anyone?“, Ali continued. You shook your head, your lips pressed together tightly; “No. I think I’ll focus on my career right now.“ “That sounds… reasonable.“ “I know.“ You were just about to turn the keys and unlock the door when Ali spoke up again; “You know I’m sorry, right? I didn’t think when we started this. Or else I wouldn’t have put us both through this mess.“ “So you regret us?“, you asked, your voice a pitch higher than you wanted it to be. “That’s not what I said.“, Ali retorted defensively.

You heaved a long sigh; “I guess it’ll be easier when the season ends.“ “Yes. I think it will be. That gives us more space.“, the defender agreed. “Right and we’ll never have to see each other again.“ Ali rolled her eyes at your remark; “You know, you can be a bit dramatic sometimes?“ “To be fair, I learned from the best. Kristie and you.“, you laughed involuntarily. “I’m not dramatic! Your sister is!“, Ali protested with a wide grin. “Yeah, she’s a little bit more drama.“

For a second, everything felt like the break-up never happened but then Alis’ face turned serious again; “See. I’m sure you’ll be alright. You’re an amazing soccer player, smart and pretty, and you have your two sister who always got your back. You don’t need me.“

“Ali, you know that’s not true. I do need you.”, you disagreed. Her expression was unchanged as she answered: “No, you don’t.” “I still don’t care about the age gap. I thought you should know that. Good night, Ali.”, you smiled disappointed. “I do know that. Good night.”

Yet she still did not move so you asked the defender:” Ali, why are you still standing here?” “What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.”, Ali blushed. “Thinking about what?” “Mistakes.”, the older woman truthfully replied. Sharply you shot back: “Well, I think you made very clear that we were a mistake.” “No. But apparently think that if you keep accusing me of saying that.”, she shook her head. You could feel your cheek turn red:” Sorry.” “ I don’t think this was a mistake. What was a mistake was the fact that I didn’t think about it before starting something with you. That would have saved us the trouble.”, Ali summed it up. Slowly you nodded:”Right.”

“But now I’m wondering if it’s a mistake to let you go.”, the defender cautiously looked into your eyes. The words left your mouth before you could think more deeply about them: “Don’t let go.” This said she closed the gap between you and pressed her lips onto yours while you replied to her kiss with an equally passion, running your hands through her dark long hair. All the emotions finally making their way out as you embraced each other. Needless to say, Ali did not leave that night.

After your now girlfriends last game where was a big party being held in her honour. All her friends were there to celebrate her long soccer career. Proudly you kissed her which made Kristie gasp out loud: “Oh. My. God!”

“Why are you yelling, Kristie?”, your other sister Sam Mewis asked amused because she was well versed in the older sibling’s talent to make everything super dramatic as if you were part of a reality show. “Our little sister is making out with Ali!”, the blonde shouted into her ear. Unimpressed the taller woman looked at her:” And?” “And seriously?!”, Kristie repeated playfully shocked.

That made Sam laugh out loud: “Yes?” “Why aren’t you freaking out about this?”, the smaller midfielder wanted to know. “Should I?” “Well, they look happy, right?”, the older sister observed as she glanced at Ali and you. Giggling the middle sibling remarked: “I don’t know. They’re about to eat each other up.”

Kristie grimaced in disgust; “Ew, gross.“ “As if you and were any better with your girlfriend.“, Megan Rapinoe interrupted the sisters, giving Kristie a smirk. Sam gasped with widened eyes, happy about the mutual understanding between her and Megan; “Don’t even get me started! You can’t even have a normal conversation without them making out!“

“Let’s try it with this new couple, shall we?“, Megans wife asked, a challenging look on their face. But before she could her plan to action, Ali took her lips off of yours for a second and yelled; “We’re busy here!“ “Get a room!“, Kristie answered. You eyed your sister with scepticism; “Coming from you?“ “Don’t talk to me in this tone, young lady.“, Kristie warned, playfully raising her finger at you. You cringed; “You’re my older sister, not my mum.“

Ali got up, taking your hand in hers; “Let’s leave, love.“ “Please.“, you answered, looking at your sisters with feigned disdain. “Bye, guys.“, Ali waved while gently leading you outside. Kristie watched you with her mouth open; “You can’t just abduct my sister.“ “This is consensual.“, you clarified with a laugh. “This better be!“, Kristie yelled after you. You smiled at her and Sam, waving them goodbye; “See you tomorrow.“ “Or not.“, Kristie added. Sam snorted; “Probably not.“ “Girls!“, you called. But Ali nudged you with her shoulder, giving you a wink; “They are not wrong though.“ “Go.“, Sam rolled her eyes, gesturing for you to finally leave. Sue smiled as she watched you two; “Seems like we don’t have to worry about Ali being bored after her retirement from soccer.“ “I was never worried about that.“, Megan replied, amused.

Kristie in the meantime had taken a step away from the group and was holding her phone to her ear. “Kristie, what are you doing?“, Sam asked. “Uhm, telling mum the news?“, her sister answered, looking at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sam shook her head at her; “Oh my god, Kristie. That’s exactly why I’m mums favorite.“

[captainsophiestark]

Vigilante Book Club

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist! - Part 2 Part 3

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: After having an all-around terrible day, the only person who might be able to make it better is a certain book-loving vigilante.

Word Count: 1,562

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed heavily as the tomato I'd set on the counter and turned my back on for two seconds rolled onto the floor and went splat. Some days were just meant to be shitty, apparently.

Today had started out perfectly nice and ordinary. The sun had even been shining, which was a miracle in itself sometimes in Gotham. But then, I'd left my bag unattended at the coffee shop while grabbing my order from the counter, before returning to my table. It didn't have anything legitimately valuable in it, in terms of what the thief got, but it did have my favorite copy of my favorite book, which I'd had for the better part of a decade. All my little notes, bookmarked favorite pages, and the first edition put into print before a few typos and errors were corrected on later runs; in other words, irreplacable. And now it was gone forever.

The rest of my day had likewise been terrible, although normally mundane events might've been colored a little by the loss of my book. Now, all I wanted to do was eat something I liked and then immediately go to bed. And even that wasn't going to plan.

I huffed, setting down the knife I'd grabbed when I turned my back on the tomato and intending to replace it with some paper towels. I froze mid-turn, however, at the sound of the window in my hallway sliding open. Because of course this day hadn't ended yet.

Slowly, as quietly as possible, I turned back to the counter and picked up the knife. I knew I'd locked that window, but apparently someone had managed to just quietly and easily slide it open. That wasn't a good sign.

I crept across the kitchen, tensed and ready to run at a moment's notice as I neared the corner to the hallway. I wanted to see who or what I might be dealing with, while also being prepared to run if I needed to.

I paused at the edge of the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. Finally, I mustered up the courage to slowly lean around the corner to peek into the hallway. When I did, I found someone standing much, much closer than I'd been expecting them to be.

"AH!" I screamed, jumping back while brandishing the knife out in front of me. I made it halfway across the room in one leap as the person in my house shifted backwards too.

"Shit," he swore, voice slightly distorted by the vocal modulator in his very recognizable helmet. The Red Hood. Standing in my apartment, apparently after having broken through my window.

I lowered my knife slightly and stopped in my living room, just a few steps from my kitchen. I wasn't completely relaxed, but in general, the Red Hood seemed to have a helpful, non-dangerous-if-you're-not-evil reputation. But he'd also just broken into my house.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded. Red Hood held up his hands to show he was unarmed, and apparently also to answer my question: he held a familiar bag I thought I'd never see again in his hand.

"Sorry for scaring you. I didn't think anyone was here, I was planning to just drop this off and go. But I busted some black market smugglers today, and one of their lower-ranking guys had this. Seemed like something you might want back."

I barely let him get through the end of his sentence before I dropped the knife on the nearest table and rushed across the room to grab my bag. I yanked it open while it was still in Red Hood's hands, peering inside with my heart hammering in my chest. I almost collapsed on the spot when I found my book inside, looking exactly the way I'd left it.

"Oh thank goodness!" I cried. I turned back to Red Hood, still clutching my book tight. "Thank you so much for bringing this back to me! I was heartbroken when it got taken."

Red Hood just shrugged. "Glad I could help."

He started shifting back towards the door, carefully setting my bag and the rest of its contents down on the counter, but I couldn't just let him leave like that. He'd quite literally saved my day; I wanted to do something for him in return.

"Wait! Can I... offer you dinner, or something?" I asked. "I was about to start making some tacos..."

Red Hood's gaze drifted to the kitchen as mine did, landing on the pitiful start I'd made on dinner and the tomato still on the floor. I couldn't be totally sure because of the helmet, but I thought I heard him snort.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but that doesn't look anything like dinner. Maybe next time I bust some criminals I'll find a cookbook I can bring you."

I scoffed in mock-indignation, but I couldn't quite hide a smile all the same.

"I know how to cook, alright? Today's just been... a little rough. Until you brought my book back, at least!"

Red Hood chuckled. "Well, I'm glad I could help. Makes my day a lot better, too."

We shared a smile (I assumed, since I couldn't technically see his face), then I lit up as a shock of inspiration hit me.

"Oh! What if I let you borrow this book!" I cried. "It's absolutley fantastic, I promise you won't forget it. Since you knew it was important, I'm assuming you're a reader?"

He stared at me, looking a bit taken aback.

"I'm a very big reader, but... you'd actually let me borrow this?"

He gestured to the book still clutched tightly in my hand, and I whipped it up to my chest again, holding it tight to me.

"Hell no! I won't let anyone borrow this copy, ever. But I have a loaner copy I've used to get my friends invested in the story that I'd be happy to share with you. And... maybe you could come back when you're done reading it, and we could talk about it? Maybe over dinner? I promise I'm a better cook than the current state of my kitchen would suggest."

He didn't respond right away, to the point that I started to get a little nervous. Maybe he'd really wanted to leave when he'd first started heading back to the window, and didn't want anything to do with me or this conversation. Just when I started crafting something to say to let him off the hook, he finally spoke up again.

"...As long as you're sure it wouldn't be an inconvenience for you."

"What? Of course I'm sure! If you're interested, I'd love someone else to talk to about my favorite book. And I'd still love to make you dinner as a thank you for bringing this back to me."

Red Hood nodded. "Okay. That'd be nice, thanks."

"Sure thing. Let me go and grab you my other copy of this book, one second."

I ducked into my bedroom, going straight to the bedside table and carefully setting down my copy of my favorite book. No way I wanted to take a single risk of anything happening to it again.

Once that book was safe, I turned to my brimming bookshelf to grab the copy for Red Hood. Only a fellow reader would understand the importance of returning the copy he brought back to me, and honestly, I couldn't wait to hear his thoughts on the story after his first read through.

I returned to the hallway and handed the book over with a smile. Red Hood took it, tucking it safely away in a deceptively large pocket in his hero suit.

"Thanks," he said. "I'll come back in... a week?"

My eyebrows shot up. "Is that enough time for you to read it?"

"Of course. I've gotta do something to fill the time I'm not running around catching book thieves."

I smiled, and I got the distinct impression that Red Hood was doing the same. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and started heading back towards the window again.

"Anyway... thanks for the book. I'll see you next week."

"See you next week! Bring your thoughts on the book, and maybe a different mask so you can actually eat dinner."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning to try to force it under the hood."

"Good. And feel free to use the door instead of the window next time!"

He just waved, clearly making no commitment as he stepped out onto the fire escape. I smiled as I watched him go, waving back when he met my eyes and shut the window. I moved closer and watched him as long as I could before he disappeared over the rooftops, off into the night for whatever other vigilante stuff he had to do tonight.

I sighed, staying at the window for another moment to process the past ten minutes. Everything had started to feel like a hallicination, possibly brought on by my truly terrible day.

No matter what, though, I could reassure myself it was real with the newly-returned book on my bedside table, or the knife I'd left in my living room. Somehow, my precious copy of my favorite story had made its way back to me. And even better, I now had a date with a vigilante scheduled to address said book.

I just needed to figure out what dinner went with 'Red Hood comes over to discuss literature'.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin

[batmanlovesnirvana]

— ‘our love still remains.’

BRUCE WAYNE X FEM!READER

ONE SHOT | angst, death, murder, depression, drugs, suicidal thoughts.

synopsis : A year had passed since you died, but grief lingered, clinging to Bruce like the ash of a fire long extinguished.

A/N : This was inspired by this haunting scene between Thomas Shelby and Grace’s ghost. It’s one of my favorite moments—so raw and emotional—and I couldn’t help but feel it resonates deeply with Bruce. The weight of grief, love, and unresolved pain feels like a perfect fit for his character.

English isn’t my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes!

WAYNE MANOR had never seemed so empty.

A place once filled with quiet purpose, with the steady rhythm of lives intertwined, was now a mausoleum—a tomb for memories that Bruce could neither escape nor embrace.

You had been dead for a year, and with you, everything human in him had begun to rot.

He was barely functional. No. That wasn't right. He wasn't functional at all. 

A ghost of himself wandered these halls, sat in these rooms, wore his skin, but it wasn't him. 

Not anymore.

The fire in the study crackled weakly, but its warmth never reached him. It flickered, casting trembling shadows on the dark oak walls, as if mocking his inability to burn with anything but guilt.

Bruce sat hunched in his chair, his head low, his shirt disheveled and sleeves rolled up. 

The man who had once stood as Gotham's unshakable guardian, a force of sheer will, was now a fractured thing.

His eyes, sunken and bloodshot, stared into the flames, but they saw nothing. He didn't need to see. He had already memorized the way the world looked without you in it.

The decanter of whiskey shimmered in the firelight, its amber liquid untouched at his side. He had never been one to drink—not before. But since you'd been gone, nothing was the same.

Tonight, though, the glass remained full. Not yet. Not for this. 

He couldn't dull the edges of this particular torment. He had to feel it, let it pull him under, heavy and unrelenting, like a stone tethered to his chest, dragging him to the depths.

His hand hovered over the glass, fingers curling tightly around it, the tension in his knuckles sharp and pale. The tremor wasn't from the cold but from the brutal weight of his own restraint. His mind hissed its merciless refrain, over and over, unyielding:

It should've been me. Not you.

Me. Not you.

Me. Not you.

The glass gave way with a brittle snap, the shards biting into his palm, the sound cutting through the suffocating quiet like a scream. He didn't flinch. The brief sting was insignificant, a pale shadow of the raw, festering wound buried deep within—a wound that time had refused to heal, a wound that still bled.

He craves the burn. Craves the searing pain, the consuming fire that might finally match the inferno raging inside him—the fire that could never touch you the way it's devoured him.

The night presses close, suffocating and merciless, but he doesn't move.

He doesn't patrol. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't eat.

He simply exists, caught in the liminal space where grief and guilt coil around each other, tightening like a noose. Waiting—for the silence to break, for the weight to crush him, for something, anything, to drag him back from the edge of this endless void.

The door sighed as it swung open, the faint creak swallowed by the oppressive stillness.

Alfred entered, a silver tray balanced in his steady hands, its polished surface catching the flickering glow of the fire. Every movement was deliberate, quiet, as though the room itself demanded reverence. He set the tray down with a soft clink, his weathered face composed, but his eyes—sharp and searching—betrayed the concern he could no longer contain.

"Master Wayne..." His voice was soft, hesitant, like stepping onto fragile ground.

Bruce didn't stir. His gaze remained fixed on the fire, the flames reflected in his eyes like ghosts of battles fought and lost.

Undeterred, Alfred took a step closer, his measured footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. "I thought you might need something to eat. It's been... some time." His tone was calm, but beneath it lay a quiet plea.

The silence stretched, vast and unyielding. Bruce remained a statue, motionless, unhearing—or perhaps unwilling to hear.

Alfred lingered, his hands clasped behind his back. He studied the man slumped in the chair, once an unshakable force—a sentinel against the darkness, a man who bore the weight of Gotham like it was his birthright.

But now?

Now, he was something hollow.

A shadow consumed by grief, its edges blurred, its substance eaten away until nothing but silence remained.

"No patrol tonight, then?" Alfred asked, though he already knew the answer.

Bruce's hands trembled faintly—not from the cold, nor from the blood still drying on his knuckles—but from something far deeper, raw and unrelenting.

The old butler sighed.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew a small glass vial and placed it on the tray with deliberate care. The gesture was quiet, pointed—a subtle admonition wrapped in concern.

"I'm worried, sir," Alfred said, his voice thick with the weight of restrained emotion. "About the medicine. You've been relying on it too much."

Bruce's eyes flicked to the vial, his fingers curling involuntarily, but his lips remained sealed.

His gaze turned distant, unfocused, as though he were retreating into some unreachable corner of his mind. The flicker of firelight played across his expression, but it gave nothing away. The silence, though, spoke volumes.

The fire crackled softly, its warmth feeble against the icy void that seemed to envelop the room.

"She wouldn't want this," Alfred ventured at last, his voice trembling at the edges. The words came haltingly, heavy with pain. Saying them was a struggle; even he found it difficult to speak of her. "I know it's hard, but—"

But he faltered.

What could he say to a man who had lost so much? To a man who believed the one constant in his life—the one light in his endless night—had slipped from his grasp because of him? What comfort could Alfred offer someone who carried the unbearable weight of guilt and grief and punished himself for it, day after day?

Not even the ever-thoughtful Alfred had answers for that.

He lingered for a moment longer, his weathered gaze heavy with unspoken worry, before letting out a quiet, resigned sigh. Stepping back, he retreated as softly as he'd entered, unwilling to disturb the fragile stillness any further.

The door closed behind him with a muted click, leaving Bruce alone once more in the oppressive quiet, the firelight casting shadows that danced like ghosts around the room.

Bruce didn't move. The tray remained untouched, its polished surface glinting dully in the flickering firelight. The room seemed colder somehow, emptier, as though the flames themselves were losing the will to fight against the encroaching dark.

The silence pressed down, heavy and suffocating.

His hand moved slowly, hesitantly, reaching for the vial. His fingers trembled as they closed around the cool glass, the faint quiver betraying the storm raging beneath his impassive exterior. He held it up, watching the liquid swirl under the amber glow of the fire. For a moment, he hesitated—then tipped his head back, letting the bitter contents slide down his throat in one unbroken motion.

The burn was sharp. Familiar. Almost comforting.

But it fixed nothing.

The ache inside him remained, raw and unrelenting. He stayed rooted to the chair, unable to move, the weight of his grief pinning him down. His eyes drifted to the shards of glass scattered across the carpet, their jagged edges catching the firelight like cruel reflections of his fractured soul.

With a sudden, violent motion, he hurled the empty vial into the flames. It shattered on impact, the fire greedily consuming the fragments until nothing remained.

His head dropped into his hands, shoulders curling inward as though trying to shield himself from the crushing weight of everything he couldn't escape. The room fell silent again, save for the crackle of the fire, each ember rising like a ghost of what once was.

And then, it happened. Just as it always did.

The impossible.

You appeared.

Bruce's cold, detached eyes flickered, his breath hitching as the warmth of an illusion—one he neither welcomed nor could let go—took shape before him.

You were perched on the edge of the canopy seat by the window, your silk pajamas catching the soft firelight in a way that felt achingly real. One leg was tucked beneath you, the other dangling lazily, your toes grazing the rug in that familiar way that sent a sharp pang through his chest.

Your hair spilled loose around your shoulders, soft and untamed, just as it had on those stolen nights when dawn would catch you both mid-conversation, the rest of the world forgotten.

And then there was the smile. That quiet, tender smile—the one that had unraveled him every time, breaking through walls he hadn't even realized he'd built.

The billionaire swallowed hard, his voice hoarse when he finally spoke. "What now?"

Bruce's bitter smile wavered as you tilted your head, amusement flickering in your eyes like embers in the fire.

"What am I, a genie?" you teased, your voice light but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper, something unspoken. Your gaze darted to the flames, where the shattered remnants of the vial had disappeared. "Summoning me with your little bottle of dope?"

His laugh was dry, almost inaudible. "I take it for the pain," he murmured, the words heavy, fragile, as if they might shatter under the weight of his grief. His eyes found yours, softening in a way that made him feel utterly exposed. "To keep warm."

You moved then, gliding across the room with that effortless grace he had memorized, your bare feet soundless against the carpet. He stiffened when he felt your fingers ghost across his shoulder—a touch too warm, too tender to be real. Yet he didn't pull away.

"Is that what it's for?" you asked, your voice wrapping around him like a balm for a wound that would never heal. "The warmth?"

Bruce closed his eyes, his head dipping forward slightly as if trying to catch just a moment more of the phantom sensation. "The warmth," he echoed, his voice breaking. "All this time..."

You moved again, slipping into the space beside him on the couch, your presence as vivid as the firelight dancing in his peripheral vision.

He turned toward you, and for the briefest, most treacherous moment, it felt real—your scent, your nearness, the way you looked at him like you could see straight through to his soul.

He leaned in, his breath catching as he inhaled the memory of you, his eyes fluttering shut in the desperate hope that he could hold on just a little longer. Just a little longer.

But deep down, he knew.

It wasn't real.

It never was.

The realization struck like a knife twisting in his chest, but he clung to the illusion all the same. He would take anything—anything—to feel you again, even if it was a cruel lie conjured by his own fractured mind.

To touch you. To kiss you. To lose himself in you, the only solace he had ever known.

Since your death, there had been no one else. No empty arms, no fleeting connections. He didn't want anyone else. Couldn't. It was always you. It would always be you.

"I know," you whispered, your hand brushing his cheek in a gesture so gentle, it nearly broke him. His breath hitched, a tear slipping free.

"Our love still remains," you said, your words a quiet promise in the suffocating silence.

And you were right.

Because no matter who tried to step into his life, none of them could ever compare to you.

Bruce's head bowed, his shoulders trembling as he pressed his forehead to the illusion of your hand.

He didn't speak, didn't dare. He let the hallucination linger, let it fill the gaping void inside him for as long as it would. When it faded—and it always did—the cold would return, and he would be alone once more.

They lingered in that fragile silence, heavy with the weight of unsaid words, the room echoing with everything neither could bear to voice.

At last, you broke it, your tone steady yet tender. "But you have to listen, Bruce. To the voices you hear. To what they're telling you."

His brow furrowed deeply, his eyes squeezing shut as if to block out everything but you. "There's too much to do," he whispered, his voice trembling, breaking under the strain. His breath hitched unevenly. "The kids... the city... it never stops."

When he finally opened his eyes, they met yours, glassy and filled with unshed tears. "I need to say goodbye," he confessed, his voice a raw whisper, hoarse and fractured.

He rubbed his face with trembling hands, weary to his bones. "I need to sleep... just for a little while."

Your hands cradled his face again, grounding him in the moment, as real to him as the warmth of the fire. "Then think, Bruce," you urged, your voice a mix of unwavering love and quiet strength. "Think about what I would tell you. About what you need to do."

A tear slipped down his cheek, his body trembling as he leaned into the phantom touch. He tried to form words, but they came out as fractured pieces of his anguish. "It's too much... I can't... I should've..."

His voice cracked and faltered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've protected you. I should've saved you."

"You don't need to apologize," you said softly, your voice cutting through his despair like a light in the dark. "I was never angry with you, Bruce. I never could be."

His chest clenched painfully, a fresh wave of tears spilling free. "But I failed you," he choked out, his voice barely audible.

"You didn't fail me," you replied, your words sharp yet soothing. "But you're failing yourself."

You moved in closer, kneeling in front of him, your hands lifting his face so his eyes met yours.

There was a love in your gaze that steadied him, but also something more—a heaviness, a truth he couldn't yet name. "This isn't the way, Bruce. I won't let you destroy yourself like this."

His grief overtook him, his entire frame trembling with the force of it. "I can't let go," he admitted, his voice breaking as fresh sobs racked his body. "Not of you. Not yet."

Your smile returned, soft and filled with sadness. "Then let go of the pain," you said gently. "Let go of the guilt. Let go of the past. I'm here, but I can't stay. Not like this. Not while you're lost in the dark."

His heart shattered again, the pieces cutting deeper, but he couldn't deny the truth in your words.

"Please," he whispered, his voice raw, pleading, desperate. "Please don't leave me. I can't do this alone."

But you were already slipping away, your warmth dissipating like smoke, fading from his grasp.

He reached out, his hands trembling, but there was nothing there—nothing to hold onto. The room grew colder, your presence vanishing into the shadows, leaving him alone in the silence.

The fire crackled softly, its flames flickering weakly against the oppressive darkness. The emptiness of the room settled over him, pressing down with a weight he couldn't bear.

"I'll never let go," he whispered, his voice fragile, a shattered promise he knew he could never keep.

But you were gone. And the silence consumed everything.

Bruce's hand lingered on his cheek, still warm from where you'd touched him, but it too began to cool, slipping away too quickly.

Long moments passed before his voice cracked through the stillness, breaking the silence like glass. "I'll think," he murmured into the void. "I promise."

Even as the words left his lips, they felt empty—hollow echoes in a room full of nothing. 

As hollow as the man who spoke them.

go check [ TU’BURNI (Bruce Wayne fic) ]

Little thing while I write the next chapters of TU’BURNI :)

I’ve been considering publishing one of my Tommy Shelby fics, so if anyone’s interested, please lmk.

[innammoratta]

Bruce Wayne x reader: Incorrect Quotes - 1

Y/N: Well, *walking out of Wayne Manor* this was fun. Thanks for inviting me!

Bruce: My pleasure. I look forward to eating together again soon.

Y/N: *Suddenly turns around.* Mr. Alfred? Could I just ask one favor? *anxious expression*

Alfred: What might that be?

Y/N: Could you please say, "a bottle of water?"

Bruce: ......

Afred: .......

Y/N: ......

Bruce: ..... Do it.

[gotham-witch]

15k word Justice poly (Batman, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, and Superman) fic just dropped. Slow-burn, fake dating, and “I would die for you” “Not if I die for you first” tropes! -Kam

[lumillsie]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ gotham masterlist. ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ jim gordon, barbara kean, victor zsasz, oswald cobblepot, edward nygma, sofia falcone, jerome valeska, jeremiah valeska, tabitha galavan

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jim gordon. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ barbara kean. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ victor zsasz. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ edward nygma. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ sofia falcone. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jerome valeska. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jeremiah valeska. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ tabitha galavan. ੈ✩‧₊˚

tba.

[graveyardmold]

Hiiii 😘 I wanted to request a one shot of Jared Leto joker like a fluffy/smut? Thanks a ton mwah 😽

HELLO! SORRY FOR REPLYING SO LATE BUT I DIDN'T GET THE NOTIFICATION!❤️

Also, I did proof read but I'm not sure I caught every mistake. So PLEASE forgive me!!!😭😭🙏🏻

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Jared Leto-Joker one shot!

warnings: first person one shot, fluff, smut, f reader, choking kink, PiV, cumming inside, public sex, pet names, mentions of wanting to harm someone, mentions of dead. I think that's all.

"My boss has been acting like a dick all week, just because I sent a wrong email to one of his employees, you know. He's really frustrating, this morning I got told to reorganize every. single. folder. where we keep our clients informations, and we have tons of clients I'm still halfway through them and he said that if I don't finish before this evening he'll fire me."

I told my boyfriend through the phone what my boss has been acting like all week and he seemed more pissed than me.

"I'll deal with him baby, don't think about it. He won't even dare to look at you."

He said to me. I thanked him with a "I love you" and we ended the call.

I tried to distract myself from the thoughts of this morning but that's just nonsense, how could anyone be so crazy. I enter the bathroom and turn on the hot water in my tub, waiting for it to fill. In the meantime I go to my closet and pick out a cute little tube latex dress and a pair of high heels.

"I wanna go to J's club tonight, I don't wanna stay here while the rest of Gotham is living its best night life." I say to myself while entering the tub and letting my muscles finally relax.

[...]

As soon as I arrive at the club I'm greeted by Frost, J's right hand, who takes me to the VIP room.

"Y/n would you like something to drink? I'll go call a waiter. Mister J is dealing with some stuff but he'll be back in a couple of minutes. I hope waiting here for him won't be a problem." Told me Frost before exiting the room and leaving me alone in the room.

I hear a buzz and look at my notifications, it's a text from my boss.

"Good evening Y/n, I went into your office to check your work with those folders I told you to reorganize and noticed that you're not even halfway through them. As previously promised, don't bother yourself to return."

I stared at the text my boss has just sent me, unable to react or to reply. I slowly pick at my skin trying to think about an excuse just to keep my job but none of the options seem to be the perfect one. I didn't notice J entering the room and when I felt a hand on my thigh I almost jumped out of fear.

"What happened?" He asked me worried.

"My boss just texted me, look" And I hand him my phone.

He reads the text and locks his jaw.

"He's a fucking dickhead you know? How could anyone finish reorganizing all those folders alone in a day?" He asked rhetorically.

"As I said earlier, I'll deal with him. He won't ever bother you again." He said while cuddling me.

"I don't wanna lose my job though. I really liked being a journalist assistant, writing about you on the newspapers." I said and he laughed, caressing my hair and knees.

"You don't have to work. I can give you everything you could want. We could stay at home together all day everyday." He said kissing my on the cheek and leaving red lipstick marks.

"I wanna be an indipendent woman J, I don't want you to maintain me." I say straddling him and playing with the hair on the back of his head.

"Mhh you turn me on so much when you act so mature, like you don't need anyone to go on with your life." He places his hands on my hips, leaning in for a kiss that I swiftly dodge.

"You're a tease, my love. You shouldn't thank me by avoiding me" he says to me with a smile while looking into my eyes.

"Sorry, I just don't want your clients to see us. There are just these curtains separating this room from the lobby. I'm embarrassed." I say almost hiding in his muscular arms.

He laughs and starts to lift my dress from my hips.

"If they dare to say anything, I'll get them buried alive. Let's give them a show, darling." And with that he completely takes off my dress, leaving me just in thong and heels.

"Look at you! So pretty for me. You're beautiful." He says, a hand coming to my neck and pulling me in for a kiss.

He starts to make out with me and I just can't resist so I start to grind on him. He grunts and puts his other hand on my hip guiding me back and forth, pressing me on his bulge.

I take a look at the lobby and see some clients looking at us, they're molty men and I can see them adjusting their pants to hide the growing erection they're having. That made something in me unlock and I stepped away from J, giving him a strip show.

I undressed myself (well, I just took off my thong and heels actually), folded my panties and put them in his shirt's pocket. He looked attentively at me getting closer again and starting to undress him, first his shirt making sure to caress his nipples, then his pants and boxers.

His cock bounced up and rested on his lower tummy, its tip already leaking precum and I couldn't do anything but stare at it with a hungry look.

"Do you wanna have a taste, baby?" He looked at me, arms resting on the headrest of the sofa and legs spread. I didn't think twice and kneeled in front of him, taking it in one hand and licking it from the base to the tip, staring into his eyes.

He took a handful of my hair and put it in a ponytail kinda hairstyle, keeping it still with one hand. I took his tip in my mouth, starting to suck and feeling the taste of his precum already, and I started to go down until his tip was past my ugula and my breathing was restricted.

"Good girl, sucking me so good" I moaned at his words and that made him shudder because he felt the vibration through my throat. I started to bob my head up and down doing a circular motion and it didn't take long for him to cum down my throat.

"Mhh you're such a good girl, swallowing all my cum." He took my chin between his fingers and pulled me in for a kiss, he could taste himself on my tongue and that made him groan.

I took his cock and slid it through my folds and positioned myself on top of it, letting his cock stretch my walls with every centimeter entering.

Once he was fully inside him he grabbed my hips and started making me bounce up and down, slamming ferociously on his cock, grunting I could feel his tip touching my cervix as I was moaning screaming his name, at this point I didn't even care about his clients I just could think about his cock and how good he was fucking me dumb.

"You like being fucking ruthless huh? This pussy belongs to me, doll. Remember it. I'm the best you've ever had. I will never leave you." I wanted to reply and tell him he was true but I couldn't form a singular word except the moan that came naturally out of my mouth.

The knot in my stomach was tightening and my walls were spasming around him. "Baby I'm about to cum." He said and with a few more pumps he was filling me up with his semen.

He stayed a bit inside me and then pulled out, he took me in his arms and made me rest on his chest. He called Frost and told him to bring a blanket and tell all the clients to go away.

"I love you baby, I won't let anyone else disrespect you." He told me kissing my forehead.

"I love you too J, thank you for what you for always protecting me. I will never leave you."

He did as he was told and brought us the blanket. J put it on us and we fell asleep in eachothers embrace.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

THE END!!

I hope u like it pookie😭🫶🏻

[justanoasisimagines]

Being stuck in a thunderstorm with Victor

Hey lovelies, back with day 2 of my Halloween Heroes versus Villians month. Starting today off with one of my favourite Gotham characters. Stay tunned to see who today's hero is! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

🎃Victor comes in to find you curled up watching the rain, patter heavily on the windows.

🎃Victor leans against the doorframe observing you a brief moment of quietness. He doesn't usually get to see you so relaxed and comfortable.

🎃Victor crosses the room joining you on the sofa. You instinctively curl up against him. Thunder rolling above them. Victor feels the stresses of the day seeping off of him. You lying onn his chest is everything that is important.

🎃Victor asks about your day and mentions his day at work. Victor drags the blanket over the two of you as the air around you cools. Lightening now flashing against the windows.

🎃Victor and you make the most of it. Watching movies together while you enjoy dinner together. Victor offers you some clothing to sleep in if you're not already living together.

🎃If you're not, Victor begins to consider perhaps you should move in together. At this point the two of you are always moving between each other's apartments.

🎃Even if the lights go out, Victor is prepared. He'll keep you warm and has a couple of flashlights around his apartment.

🎃The thunderstorm is unexpected, however, Victor is always grateful for the opportunity to spend time with you.

[your-nanas-house]

"Scarecrow, Scarecrow"

◇ Pairing: Jonathan Crane X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, edging, riding, handjob, Jonathan Crane, straight jacket, kind of dubcon at first

◇ Summary: Jim Gordon and his colleague go to interrogate Jonathan Crane.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

You and your colleague Jim Gordon had been in that interrogation room for more than an hour, nothing had succeeded in making Doctor Crane speak, not even the time since he was still sitting in front of you tied in a straitjacket that kept his entire body immobile and it was getting kind of uncomfortable— you could tell.

Your eyes remained on the black haired man the entire time as you let Jim do the attempted interrogation— attempt because it wasn't working at all and it was starting to stress him out, you could see it and Crane could see it too.

That was the main reason because you leaned closer to him to whisper something in his ear, covering your mouth with your hand slightly so not to make anyone but Jim hear.

You could see out of the corner of your eye you had slightly caught the maniac's attention, making his icy gaze focus back on you even when Officer Gordon got up, leaving the room after whispering something back to you.

It was just you and Jonathan, no one else, the cameras weren't working and you knew it, you were in a room in Arkham Asylum so there were no walls for the people outside to see through— a decidedly sick decision to make.

Jonathan opened his mouth, licking slightly his pink lips

"I'm afraid I've never had the pleasure of meeting you before, Officer...." he said, his eyes trailing on your body and back to your face as he waited to know your name.

You got up from your chair and looked around the room, studying your surroundings while moving closer to him

"Jonathan Crane, huh? I attended a few of your lectures— I must say that they were quite interesting but it was hard to focus" you explained with a blank voice while thinking.

His eyes kept following you, his mouth opened to say something but quickly shut when you sat on his lap

"Let's make a deal, shall we?" You started, licking your lips

"I bet you are quite touch depraved since they locked you in this place so— I can give you what you need if you tell me what I want to know. How does it sound?" You asked softly, not letting him reply immediately just by placing your hand directly on his covered crotch, massaging it slowly while feeling his cock get hard and stiff under your hand.

His breaths came out more labored as you continued the movement of your hand, applying a little more pressure and then quickly moving from that position to lean on the table to admire him before speaking again

"What do you say, Dr. Crane?" you asked seeing his adam's apple bounce slightly as he gulped

"F-Fuck fine but don't stop" he begged quickly, making you hide a smirk.

You moved back on his lap and started to grinds slowly against him, asking him a few questions which received no response.

"This wasn't the deal, honey" you pushed him down on the table, freeing his hard leaking cock before grabbing it with your hand

"Mommy isn't in the mood to play so answer the questions like a good boy to receive your reward, yes?" you whispered against his ear, making him whine like a slut for you.

It took him a few seconds to be able to answer at your comment, too focused on your still warm hand on his rock-hard cock

"Yes— m-mommy, god, please. I will answer anything" he quickly assured you, moaning happily as your hand started to pleasure him, stroking his whole length— moving his foreskin to be able to touch the tip and make him squirm under you.

Jonathan was answering your questions, moving his hips as best he could to fuck your hand making you more aroused as the time passed.

You honestly weren't planning to go all the way with him but the situation was making your pussy ache for release and a big cock like his to fill you completely.

You could see that Johnathan was getting closer and closer to his peak, hearing just his loud moans followed by soft whimper and prays that got replaced by a loud whine when you removed your hand from him.

His piercing blue eyes that were closed quickly opened, staring at you in a desperate way as he tried to understand why you stopped just to groan even louder when your wet pussy made contact with his leaking, thrombing cock.

You started to move your hips slowly, grinding your clit against his V-line before positioning his dick at your entrance not bothering to put a condom on it— too lost in your wish of pleasure.

Your pussy swallowed him up, taking all his inches easily because of how wet it was; your head dropped back as your mouth let out a pornographic moan that made Jonathan whimper and his cock twitch inside of you.

It took just a few bounce and the view of your tits to make Dr. Crane reach his peak, his back arched in a delicious way as his mouth dropped, letting out loud moans just for you.

His icy blue eyes rolled back under his pretty eyelids and his messy hair got more stuck against his forehead because of his sweat.

Sadly for him as soon as you reached your climax, you got up not helping him reach his own— you had the informations you wanted but he had been a brat at the beginning of your interrogation so you decided that he didn't deserved his reward.

Jonathan wasn't happy about it, you could see it in his eyes and the way he was clenching his teeth making his jawline stand out even more.

You were probably doing a mistake that you would regret if he would ever escape from Arkham but you didn't care so you left, leaving Jonathan Crane, aka The Scarecrow, with blue balls— still tied with a straight jacket and his cock out.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

[apollowhoo]

Saw you write for DC as well ^^ maaaybe you could write something tea party like where Robin is kidnapped and has to attend a tea party hosted by Jervis Tetch alongside guests like Harley Quinn & her Hyenas?

you request me robin and not tell me WHICH robin??😭 Eeny, meeny, miny...Tim Drake!!

"One Lump or Two, Bird Boy?"

Tim's eyes fluttered open, the pounding in his head pulling him out of unconsciousness. His surroundings were... peculiar, to say the least. A long table stretched before him, cluttered with teacups, teapots, and towers of pastries that looked almost too colorful to be real.

His arms were tied to the arms of an ornate chair with silk ribbons—light and soft, but unbreakable.

"Ah, awake at last! How delightful."

Tim's eyes snapped to the voice—smooth, and unnervingly cheerful. Across the long, cluttered table, Jervis Tetch, the Mad Hatter himself, stared at him. Dressed in his usual Victorian garb, Tetch's wide-brimmed top hat tilted slightly as he leaned forward with childlike glee.

"Welcome, Robin! You’ve arrived just in time for tea. And oh, what a wonde of an evenring it shall be!"

Robin pulled at the ribbons, testing for any slack. "This is a new low, even for you."

Tetch wagged a gloved finger. "Tsk, tsk, such rudeness! But that’s expected of birds. No manners." He gestured grandly around the room. "But worry not! We have more friends here to keep you entertained."

A loud, cackling laugh echoed from the far side of the room.

"Aww, ya didn’t tell me we were havin’ company, Hatter! And look who it is—Baby Bird himself!"

Harley Quinn barged into the room, balancing a tray of cupcakes on one hand and swinging her oversized mallet with the other. She wore her iconic outfit.

Following at her heels were Bud and Lou, her loyal hyenas, tongues lolling and eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Harley," Robin muttered under his breath. His day had officially gone from bad to worse.

"Harleen, my dear!" Tetch greeted her warmly. "I thought a little... surprise might liven up our gathering."

Harley plopped into a chair across from Tim, propping her boots on the table. "Well, ain't this cute. But I hope it ain't just tea an’ crumpets. I was hopin’ for somethin’ a lil’ more... exciting, y’know?"

She flicked a piece of cupcake to Bud, who caught it mid-air with a satisfied growl.

"Oh, don’t worry," Tetch assured, his eyes never leaving Robin. "The real fun is yet to come."

Robin’s mind raced. He knew that he needed a way out, fast. "Alright, Hatter. What’s the game this time?"

Tetch grinned, his teeth gleaming in the candlelight. "Oh, how splendidly inquisitive! Yes, a game! A simple riddle, really. Solve it, and you’re free to leave. Fail..." He trailed off, gesturing to the hyenas.

Bud and Lou snapped their jaws in unison.

''Really?? A riddle?'' Harley asks dramatically

Tetch gave her a side eye before clapping his hands, delighted. "Very well! Listen well Robin. Here it is: I’m not alive, but I grow. I don’t have lungs, but I need air. I don’t have a mouth, and yet I drown. What am I?"

Tim frowned, the gears in his brain turning rapidly. He knew this one.

Harley watched him closely, tapping her mallet against her shoulder. "Tick-tock, Birdie. Don’t take too long, or Bud an’ Lou might start thinkin’ you’re dinner."

The hyenas growled softly, their laughter-like sounds sending a chill down his spine.

"Fire," Tim said finally, meeting Tetch’s gaze.

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then Tetch’s smile twisted into a grimace. "Oh...oh, you clever little bird."

Harley blinked. "Wait, that’s it? C’mon, Hatter, ya gotta step up your game! That was way too easy."

"Easy?" Tetch muttered, adjusting his hat in frustration. "I suppose it was."

Tim took the opportunity. He tugged sharply at the silk ribbons, and to his surprise, they unraveled with ease—a flaw in the Mad Hatter’s setup. He leapt from the chair, muscles tense and ready.

"Well, it’s been fun," Tim said, backing toward the door, "but I think I’ll pass on dessert."

Harley grinned, standing and hefting her mallet. "Aw, don’t go so soon, Birdie! We were just gettin’ started."

"Another time!" Tim called over his shoulder as he bolted through the door.

Tetch sighed, slumping into his chair. "How tiresome. Another guest who just doesn’t appreciate the finer things."

Harley shrugged, grabbing a teacup and taking a sip. "Eh, don’t sweat it, Hatter. Next time, let’s skip the riddles and go straight for the BOOM!"

Bud and Lou barked in agreement, their tails wagging eagerly.

"Next time, indeed," Tetch muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Next time, Robin won’t be so lucky."

And somewhere in the dark streets of Gotham, Robin was already planning how to make sure next time will never happened.

[pitchsidestories]

Welcome to New York II Ali Krieger x Reader

"Everybody here was someone else before And you can want who you want Boys and boys and girls and girls." Welcome To New York, Taylor Swift

masterlist I word count: 2901

The first thing you thought as you spotted Ali Krieger standing on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum was that this could have been a scene from a romantic comedy. A warm smile played on the defender’s lips while she had two cups of coffees in her hands:” Hi.” “Hi. Is this one for me or do you just need a lot of caffeine today”, you asked her teasingly.

Amused she shook her head: “No, the second one is for you. Ocean and Sloane let me sleep long enough today.” “Oh, lucky for me. Thank you so much.”, you answered grateful for her thoughtfulness. Still smiling Ali handed you your coffee: “You’re welcome.” Nervously you put a string of your hair behind your ear: “I hope you didn’t wait too long for me.” As much as you loved this city, the public transport was against you coming punctually to your coffee date with the equally busy soccer player today. Kindly she waved at you:” No, I didn’t. Do you want to keep standing here or walk around?” “Let’s walk around a bit.”, you decided.

Side by side you started walking, clearing her throat Ali admitted with a shy grin: “Alright. To be honest, I’m so glad Jason Sudeikis introduced us to each other at my last league game party.” “Oh, me too. Trust me. It was nice to get a look inside a soccer team.”, you agreed with her. Curiously the older woman looked at you:” As inspiration for your upcoming leading role in the female ted lasso spin off?” “You can never have enough inspiration. And to be honest, I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so I want to portray my role as realistically as possible.”, you declared slightly blushing.

Playfully the defender pouted: “Oh, and I hoped you were really interested in me as a person and not only in the soccer player part of my personality.” “Not at all. I think the soccer player part is impressive but it’s not the most interesting part about you.”, you told her.   “Oh really?” The blush on your cheeks intensified: “Maybe your good looks were also a part of it.” “And the glasses of wine we shared.", she winked at you. This comment made you chuckle:” I can only say that they definitely kept the conversation going.”

“Not only that.”, Ali added grinning hinting at what happened as the night turned over into the early morning, the time in which the never sleeping city was buzzing with life and excitement and the sexual attraction between you could not been denied any longer. “Ali!”

“What? It’s true.”, the football player shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. You scoffed: “You’re terrible.” “Yes, but you don’t mind it.”, she observed. Laughing you confessed: “Actually, I kinda like it.” “I can tell.”, Ali nodded satisfied. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.”, the defender whispered.  Elegantly you changed the topic: “It’s really beautiful today. The weather is perfect.”

Ali let her gaze wander over the autumnal scenery of the Central Park. The yellowing leaves were contrasting against the blue sky. “Agreed. New York in fall is stunning.“, she smiled. “It is.“, you agreed, taking in the crisp air. “Have you always lived in New York?“, Ali asked, genuine curiosity on her face. You shook your had and admitted; “Actually, no.“ The football players eyebrows knotted together; “No?“ With a sigh, your gaze dropped down to the fallen leaves on the ground; “Although I wished…“ “Tell me about it…“, Ali implored.

“Actually, I grew up in a conservative midwestern town.“, you started to explain. The defender grimaced, understanding the implication; “Oh. I’m sorry.“ “So coming to New York as a young adult did feel liberating in every way.“, you continued with a sad smile. Ali sipped on her coffee; “You know, a lot of my team mates who are queer had similar experiences.“ “Similar to some of my acting friends.“, you added. Ali shrugged with a sigh; “I’m always glad to hear when queer people from difficult places found a safe space.“

Nervously turning the cup in your hand, you asked; “You came out quite late to the public too, right?“ “Yes, that’s true. I thought it’s no one’s business but mine.“, she replied, nodding in thought. “What made you change your mind about it?“ “I realized that I can be of better use as a role model.“, she answered nonchalantly. You bit your lip, moved by revelation; “That’s very brave of you.“ Ali gave you a wry smile; “Thank you. But that wasn’t an easy decision for me either.“ “No, I understand that. Being queer wasn’t something that people in the movie industry liked to see a few years ago… sometimes even now.“, you told her. “I’m sorry.“ You shook your head; “It’s fine, really.“ “I guess we all have our struggles.“, the defender thought out lout. “Yes, we do.“

You were grateful when Ali finally offered; “Do you want to change the topic?“ Smiling, you gave her a soft nod to leave that topic behind; “Yes, please. I don’t want to ruin the mood during our little coffee date.“ “You couldn’t. I really enjoy talking to you.“, Ali said, carefully taking your hand into hers. “Same.“ „You do?“ “Yes, even though I told you about my sad little childhood.“, you laughed, your cheeks turning slightly pink as you wondered if you had overshared. But the smile on Alis face made that thought immediately disappear; “I appreciate it. Really. I’m glad you shared it.“

“That means a lot. So, what about you? Are you excited for the play offs?”, you asked her. The eyes of the defender lit up:” Yes, absolutely. I’m happy about every game I get to play.” “This must feel very special.”, you said, her excitement was infecting you too. “It is. If you’d like to get some more inspiration you could come.”, she offered you without hesitation.

Delighted you replied:” To your game? I’d love that.” “I’ll make sure you get some tickets.”, Ali continued happily. “Thank you.” The football player could not stop smiling: “You’re welcome.” For a second you looked worried:” You don’t think Ashlyn would mind, right?” “She won’t. Trust me.”, she reassured you quickly. Relieved you sighed:” Okay. Good.” Don’t worry about it. This is over.”, Ali confirmed. With a remark you tried to lighten up the mood again:” Yes, you made that very clear when you kissed me at the doorstep after your party.” “You asked about her.” “Sorry, I’m an idiot.”, you hid your face in her hands.  Softly the football player disagreed with you: “No, you’re not.” “So that means I can kiss you? This time without alcohol breath?”, hopeful you looked up to her.  

Amused Ali glanced at you:“You can always kiss me. Doesn’t matter if it’s on parties or in the Central Park.” “Although, I’d argue that this here is way more romantic.”, you chuckled.  Expectantly she threw a look at you:” You can argue all you want but I’d rather you just kiss me.” “As you wish.”, you said before your lips met her who were waiting for that to happen since they departed from another.

After the training ended for the Gotham players Kristie let out an excited shriek: ”Oh my god, Ali ! I’m so jealous!” Confused the captain looked at her before the blonde showed her an article on her phone which contained photos of Ali and her new girlfriend kissing romantically in the Central Park. Laughing Kelley intervened:” Jealous about the fact that they had a romantic moment in the autumnal Central Park or that she made it into the news with that?” “Actually.. both.”, Kristie admitted. 

Surprised the dark-haired defender mumbled:” Oh no, they wrote about us.” “What’s wrong? It’s a cute photo.”, Kelley furrowed her eyebrows. Enthusiastically Kristie reminded the older player: “Exactly and you’re allowed to have fun, Ali. You’re in your lemonade era, remember?” “Still, I wasn’t ready to go public with that yet. And I don’t know if she was either.”, Ali bit her lip.  Empathetic Kelley put an arm around her shoulder:” I get that too.” “I need to call her.”, the captain announced.

You were on set, spending your lunch break with the other actors, when you noticed your phone ringing. Seeing Alis name appear on the display made your heart jump unexpectedly. Happily you took the call; “Ali, Hi.“ “Hi.“, she replied. The tone of her voice made you frown; “What’s wrong? You sound a bit upset.“ The football player sighed as if to brace herself; “Have you seen the article yet?“

You grabbed your coat and your bag and hurried away from the other actors, ignoring Jason Sudeikis’ sceptical glance; “Uhm no. What article? We were busy filming the new tv episodes.“ “They photographed as kissing.“, she came straight to the point. You froze in place; “Wait. What?“ “I’m sorry.“ Your thoughts began racing, bringing you back to how exhilarated you felt during your date. Even though Ali couldn’t see you, you still shook your head; “No, I’m sorry. If I hadn’t kissed you there… this article would not exist.“ “I don’t regret the kiss… really.“, the defender replied with determination in her voice. “But you wish to have been private a little longer, right? Which is understandable considering your divorce is still fresh…“, you were thinking out loud.

Ali confirmed your thoughts; “Actually, yes. How do you feel about it?“ You let a few seconds pass before admitting; “It feels very early.“ “I know.“ “But you should know that I’m serious with you.“, you added truthfully. Ali let out a small breath, relieved; “Me too. I want this.“ Your smile was back in place; “Jason gifted me an Ali Krieger Fan club - shirt. Should I wear it to one of your games or would this be too much?“ “Please do it. If they won’t let us have our privacy, we can at least have some fun with them.“ You could basically hear Ali grinning through the phone. “Exactly what I thought too.“ Ali laughed; “I like that. You get me.“

“So, I’ll see you at the stadium? Will Sloane and Ocean be there too?“, you asked. You had the chance to meet Alis kids briefly for a few times and they had already won your heart, so you got even more excited when you heard Ali say; “Yes.“ “Great. Because I already miss them while being away on the set.“ “I’m sure they’re happy to see you again too.“, Ali said, her voice soft. “And I miss you too of course.“, you added quickly. “I do hope that!“, the defender teased. “So much.“, you admitted and with a quick glance on your watch, you ended the call; “Okay, break is over. I’ll call you back tonight.“ “Talk to you later.“

The team of Gotham FC was buzzing with excitement as they stepped on the field in Portland. If the players won, this game they would make it to the final. Grinning Lynn Williams touched the shoulder of her captain: “I spotted your girl, Ali!” “Really?”, Ali wanted to know from the forward, trying to discover your face in the crowd at Providence Park.  Equally thrilled Kristie pointed to the direction where you were standing: “Over there.” “Oh. She’s wearing the shirt.”, the defender observed with a hint of proudness in her voice.

Amused Kelley remarked: “Not subtle at all.” “It’s not supposed to be.”, Ali told her. A bright smile was on Kristie’s lips:“I love it, I’m obsessed.”  “Of course, you like that, Kristie.”, Kelley threw in unsurprised. Clearing her throat Lynn drew all the attention on her:” Yeah, so that’s all cute and sweet but we’ve a game to win girls.” “Yes. We got to focus on that.”, Ali agreed with the forward. Gotham’s number 5 nodded along:” Yes, we’re making sure that Ali has another game to play before her retirement.” 

“What retirement? With those many games, I guess you can’t really call it retirement yet.”, their captain corrected her smiling. Winking Kelley reminded the dark - haired player: “Yes, but it’s one game before the final.” “And I’d love to get to the final, girls.”, with a cheeky grin Ali glanced at each of their teammates to give them that extra motivation tonight.

The game was really close, and they had to went into overtime but thanks to Katie Stengels goal in the 107’ minute against the Portland Thorns, they won this important match and would make it to the Final. After the referee blew the final whistle, Kelley cheered loudly:” She’s not done yet!” “I’m not leaving without a trophy!”, Ali shouted happily. Ecstatic Kristie who played her first minutes after her injury in today’s game screamed: “We won, bitches!” “Who are you calling a bitch?”, Ali threw an eyebrow up at the blonde before the two and Kelley started to dance out their feelings. The words to describe their emotions would be found later, now was the time to just be in the moment and celebrate.

Meanwhile Sloane made her way through the soccer players:” Mummy!” “No more b-words here, Mewis!, Ali warned her fellow teammate before pulling her daughter into a hug, Hi, baby.”

“Okay, but your new girlfriend has a nice ass.“, Kristie commented with a smirk, disregarding Alis warning, while Sloane jumped into her mums arms; “You won!“ “Mewis!“, Ali yelled before turning back to her daughter and agreed with a much softer voice; “Yes, we won. That means mum has to play one more game.“ “That’s okay. Love to see you play. Ocean was such a baby though. He fell asleep in her arms.“, Sloane rolled her big brown eyes and pointed in your direction where her little brother was sleeping in your arms. With a laugh, Ali explained to her daughter: “He is still small.“ “Yes. I’ll forgive him that.“, Sloane nodded. Alis eyes met yours and you both had to suppress a laugh.

Slowly you bridged the few steps between you two; “Hi. Sorry, someone is very sleepy. As is the big one who pretends she’s wide awake.“ You nodded first into Oceans, then into Sloanes direction. Ali put Sloane down who pressed into her leg with a yawn. “Let me take him.“, Ali offered, holding out her hands to take her sleeping son from you. She gratefully smiled at you; “Thank you so much for taking care of them. I appreciate it.“ “You’re welcome.“, you replied, leaning over to kiss your girlfriend passionately but careful to not wake up Ocean.

“Excuse me! Those kisses are not child friendly either!“, Kristies voice interrupted the two of you. Alis face was still close to yours as she rolled her eyes; “It’s a kiss. You do worse things with your girlfriend!“ “Ali is right about that!“, Lynn chimed in. Ali shook her head and you noticed the adoration for her teammates in her eyes, even though she wanted to seem annoyed; “Sorry about them.“ “It’s okay, trust me. My acting friends are even more dramatic.“, you laughed. „Yeah, I can imagine.“, the defender grinned, leaning in for another kiss.

Next to you, Lynns face brightened while she pointed to her teammate; “I bet Kristie would have been great in drama school too!“ “Yeah, but she can’t remember shit.“, Ali interjected. Kristies mouth fell open in outrage; “You guys are so mean.“ “Only because we love you.“, Kelley now joined your group, winking at Kristie. Ignoring the others, Kristie turned to you, her phone in hand; “Can we take a selfie together? My girlfriend Sam is such a fan of you and can’t wait for your upcoming tv show.“ “Sure, but I’m for Ali tonight…“, you answered politely. You posed for the photo together, grinning into Kristies phone camera while she smirked; “Yeah, we noticed that.“

“The shirt spoke for itself, huh?”, you laughed with her. An amused smile was on the blonde’s lip:” I can assure you it did.” “Good.”, you nodded satisfied. Slightly displeased Ali asked her teammate:” Are you done now, Kristie?” “Yes, sounds like someone is missing her girlfriend.”, the younger player winked at you.

The older woman rolled her eyes before turning her attention to you:” Ignore her.” “With a pleasure.”, you told her as you kissed her again. Expectantly Ali looked into your eyes when you two ended the kiss:” I hope you know that you have to come to the final now too.” “That’s alright with me.”, you replied happily. The defender whispered into your ear:“You seem to bring me luck.” “Meaning I need to wear the same shirt too?”, you asked her, throwing an eyebrow up.

Innocently Ali played with a loose hair string of yours:” Actually, this time I’d like to see you in my jersey.” “Your Jersey? Okay.”, you agreed. Softly your girlfriend blushed:“It’s a bit more.. official.” “I see.” “If you want to of course.”, Ali’s face went serious. Quickly you replied: “I do.”  “I’ll bring you one.”, the older woman decided. Proudly you glanced at her:” Thanks, it’ll be an honour to wear it.” “It’s an honour for us that you support us.”, Ali corrected you. Looking at her children you said: “The children look tired.” “Let’s take them to bed now.”

“Good night you three.”, you wished them warmly while you all four were slowly falling asleep in the hotelroom. With a bright grin on her face Ali answered:”Good night.”

[captainsophiestark]

Dance Like Nobody's Watching

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: DC

Day Twenty-Seven Prompt: "Let me remind you."

Summary: Dick's SO is having trouble adjusting to the new scrutiny of attending Wayne galas as his date, but thankfully, he has an idea to help with that.

Word Count: 1,449

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sipped my champagne, trying to get a handle on my nerves. I could handle fighting the Joker and Scarecrow with no problems, but attending a Wayne gala as the partner of Dick Grayson was throwing me for a loop.

I fought the urge to scowl about it. If one thing could make this night more awkward, it would be some person I barely knew finding me making faces in the corner.

What irritated me the most was that this was by no means my first Wayne gala. I'd grown up with Dick and spent countless hours in the manor with him and his family. We'd been each other's primary entertainment at these things as kids. But being here as his date, and as an adult expected to do more than turn the banquet tables into a fort, was turning out to be surprisingly stressful.

When we were kids, nobody seemed to care what we did much beyond just noticing and thinking we were cute. Now, it seemed like everybody in this room wanted something from Dick, and either saw me as a threat to their ability to get it or as a secret backdoor to him, if only they could get me on their side.

I was seriously on the edge of losing it and going back to the buffet tables kid-style.

Dick had done his best to stick with me, but people kept showing up to pull both of us away from each other for a conversation, and we hadn't been able to do much without being incredibly, obviously rude. I'd finally managed to extract myself enough for some breathing room, but I could see Dick still in the middle of things, a group of old men who almost certainly wanted money from Bruce talking his ear off.

Even from here, I could tell Dick was barely paying attention to them. His eyes scanned the crowd, and after a moment, they landed on me. He raised an eyebrow, and I gave him a reassuring smile. Unfortunately for me, he knew me too well and was too good of a detective to believe it.

Dick quickly made his excuses to the men around him, and didn't take no for an answer as he left the conversation and headed in my direction. He crossed the massive room quickly to stand before me, and this time when I smiled at him, it was much more genuine.

"Hey," he said, returning my smile and leaning in to kiss my temple as soon as he reached me. "How are you doing?"

"Good." I tried to strengthen my smile, but Dick saw right through it. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"...Are you sure?"

I sighed. "It's just... this all feels a little weird. I've known you forever, you know it's never been important to me that you're the famed son of billionare Bruce Wayne. But it seems like that's all anybody else here can think about, and they all either hate me because they want to be with you or want to be my new best friend, all so they can get to you and Bruce. It's fine, none of their opinions matter to me, but... I just didn't expect to feel so weird coming to one of these things again."

Dick took a step closer to me, reaching out to take my arm with a concerned look on his face. He spoke quietly enough that, even if someone had been intentionally eavesdropping (which had happened more than once tonight), they wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Do you want to go? I'm happy to leave if you want to. We don't have to stay here."

I shook my head before he'd even finished his sentence.

"Running and no-showing Bruce's galas isn't a long-term solution. And seriously, it's fine, I'll adjust. I just... I don't know. I miss the days where we hid under the punch bowl giggling out of sight of everybody, you know?"

My boyfriend grinned. "I mean, if you really think about it, there's nothing keeping us from doing that again."

"I can think of a few things," I laughed, swatting his shoulder lightly. He hummed, but sobered quickly as he scanned the room, clearly thinking.

"Well... if you're sure you don't want to commandeer the space under the desert table?"

"I'm sure."

"Then why don't we try dancing? That's a little more... socially acceptable than hiding under the tables, but it's one of the things we used to have the most fun doing at these things. Remember how we'd just take over the entire floor to do whatever we wanted when we were kids?"

I laughed. "Yeah, of course. Although it's a little harder to remember the feeling that inspired us to just run out there before."

Dick smiled softly and extended his hand to me.

"Let me remind you."

My heart did a little backflip, especially when I met Dick's sparkling blue eyes. I huffed a little laugh of disbelief, especially at the thought of stepping into the center of the spotlight when I knew just how many people were going to be watching. But then I looked at Dick again, and I decided that, as long as I was with him, they didn't matter.

I took his hand, and he didn't waste a second before pulling me after him to the dance floor. I laughed, unable to hold back a smile even as heads turned towards us. Dick ignored them completely. He pulled me to his chest when we reached the center of the floor and wrapped an arm securely around my waist, the other taking one of my hands. I rested my free hand on his shoulder, and as we started swaying together to the music, his eyes didn't leave mine for a second.

"You know..." he started after a moment, drawing my attention back from a glance over his shoulder to where people were watching us. "This is nice, but a slow dance wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

I gave Dick my full attention and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but... what did you have in mind?"

He grinned. "Something more like this."

Suddenly, Dick was spinning me out and away from him, twirling across the floor before pulling me back. We'd know each other long enough and spent enough time as vigilante teammates that his steps were easy to follow, even as he started something closer to swing that didn't match the music at all.

I laughed, a warm feeling spreading through my chest as I shared a smile with my partner. In the back of my mind, I knew more people were probably watching and judging than ever. But suddenly they didn't matter like they used to.

Dick swung me around again, then pulled me close and into an exaggerated dip. If I didn't know he was a superhero, I probably would've been a little worried about him dropping me. Instead, it just made me laugh, especially as Dick grinned and led me into something way too close to something you'd do to Cotton Eye Joe.

With every second that passed on the dance floor with Dick, everyone else in the room faded further and further away. It felt like when we were kids, just me and the most important person in the world to me having the time of our lives.

"Feel any better?" asked Dick, whispering in my ear as he pulled me close again, both hands wrapped tight around my waist. I smiled, running my hands up his arms and across his shoulders.

"So much better. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me. We're partners, you know I'd never leave you hanging."

I pulled back enough to meet Dick's eyes, and found their familiar sparkle and a smile waiting for me. I gave him a soft smile back.

"I love you, Dick Grayson. So fucking much."

Dick beamed back at me. "I love you too. Now come on, the band's finally catching on to what we want. I want to dance with the love of my life to music that's actually fun for dancing."

I just laughed as Dick swung me out and away from him again, the two of us twirling across the floor, this time in sync with the now-faster music. Suddenly, after a few minutes with Dick, the propsect of all these Wayne galas didn't seem nearly so daunting anymore. Sure, I might have to deal with a few unpleasant strangers whose opinions didn't matter to me. But I'd also get to do this, laughing and dancing and having the time of our lives, with my favorite person in the world.

Worth it in the long run, as far as I was concerned.

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