#gordan reader

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Six

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Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

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A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just haven’t been satisfied with this, but I think I just need to bite the bullet and let it go. I’ve had this in the drafts for a while and have edited it three times.

A/N: I think I might focus on some blurbs. Or, if y’all want, y’all can submit ideas for what Smalltown is gonna be like. I gotta write down a general background for Reader’s childhood there. I have a plan, but wouldn’t mind y’all toss some ideas on to the pile.

A/N: Thank you 🐑 Anon for the happy birthday wishes!

Warning: Kidnapping, Hostage Situation for Reader, Guns, Violence, Death, Yandere Behavior and themes

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After the initially panic and dread of being kidnapped settles into Reader’s bones, they’re quickly brought to the Iceberg Lounge. Where a Penguin waits to discuss the details of their ransom with them. He’s kidnapped a Wayne or two over the years, but with how well hidden the family has kept their newest member he might as well scope them out and see if he can make a pretty penny from ransoming them. Give them a proper Gotham introduction.

When Penguin finally has Reader he wrongly expects typical Gotham high society behavior. Threats, insult, bargaining, begging, bribing, hell, even crying. But, Reader, even while terrified, keeps being polite. Referring to him as Mr. Penguin, Sir, and saying please and thank you, while doing exactly what they’re told. Honestly, Reader’s more polite and respectful than half his goons and his own goddamn children. Such a damn shame they couldn’t have been his brat.

So he chats with them. Just for a bit.

How does Reader like Gotham? Who’s their favorite bat brat? What’s their favorite food? How much money did your Momma and Daddy leave you? Just friendly get-to-know you questions to help with the nerves. No need to worry. Everyone’s a bit scared during their first kidnapping. But, do they usually live past the first one, sir? Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t ya? You’ll have to be careful with that.

It’s all quite tense for Reader, just sitting in an empty club with a dangerous man. That is, until word comes in that Bruce Wayne is paying the ransom in full. Apparently, it made Gotham headlines. The newest Wayne kidnapped. It’s all over the News, nearly every channel. Yet, Reader notices something. Why don’t they show my face, sir? It’s because this isn’t going to be your last time getting kidnapped. You’re in Gotham, baby bird. We’re all hostages in this city. How sweet of them to try to protect you from it.

It isn’t long after that, when the lounge gets visitor before the ransom money could even be dropped off.

Red Hood.

One of the Bat Brats, as Penguin calls him. His arrival raising Cain. Rubber bullets and real ones flying everywhere. Penguin gets a hold of Reader, rest his umbrella gun to their temple. Come now, Red. Don’t make me blow their pretty little head off. I’m actually fond of this one. Best of the Wayne bunch, in my not-so-humble opinion.

And, in one of the few times since becoming Red Hood, Jason hesitates. Because if he fails, if Reader gets hurt like he did, he’ll probably burn Gotham to the ground. It’s not an option. He can’t, he won’t, and he will not allow it. And, that thought, is at the forefront of his mind as he looks at Reader’s terrified face with a gun pointed at their head.

The pause, however, is noticeable. Not just to Reader, but to Penguin as well. A sign of weakness or a sign of something more foreboding. It last for a brief moment. Then Red Hood is back in action. Only, in that single moment, a decision was made. A dark decision. Something that had been healed and supposedly buried.

Batman had always fostered the importance of preparedness in them. So, of course, Jason had a magazine of live bullets ready to go for an emergency. And, this was a fucking emergency. Who cares about a few goons? And Penguin fucking deserves it.

Bruce will understand this time. How sad is it that he does?

Penguin barely escapes, with only a handful of his men still breathing and a few bullets in his shoulder, but he lives. Along with the information that the newest Wayne brat is precious enough to a Bat Brat to break the no-kill code again. Though, that might in itself become a problem for Gotham. Once again, Gotham will baptized in blood. Only, the sins are still growing under the red water. Perhaps, this time Gotham will drown in it instead.

Jason grabs a shaking and terrified Reader while leaving the lounge filled with bodies. He’ll take care of it later. Right now he needs to get Reader back to the manor, or somewhere anywhere safe. Away from Gotham, away from its criminals, and, most of all, away from him.

For a moment he had been… enraptured when he saw how scared his precious Reader looked with a gun to their head. How they looked at him with such a pitiful pleading expression. The way the shook and quaked. How fucking big their eyes got in fear.

Reader kept looking at him with those same watery fearful eyes. Those shaking fingers. A tremble that they must be all the way down to their bones. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.

He didn’t make it for before he snapped, grabbing Reader’s face to ask what they talked with Penguin about. What did he want from you? Why did you look so friendly with him? Don’t you know he’s a criminal. He’s dangerous. He just wants to see them cower like that again. Just once more.

It takes a long moment for him to calm down and pull himself away from terrifying Reader. Eventually, noticing an oncoming storm and realizing he had better get Reader somewhere safe and back to Bruce so he can go back and clean up the trash.

Jason leaves a throughly shaken and distraught Reader on the GCPD roof. Right next to a lit Bat Signal for a tired Jim Gordan to find.

Jim finds Reader in the storm, mildly despondent from the entire ordeal. After ushering them inside and trying to lightly question them, he makes a call to Bruce that Red Hood had rescued Reader and they the GCPD had them safe. Bruce, naturally , breaks all sorts of traffic laws to get to them when he hears the concerned tone in Jim’s voice.

Reader, exhausted from the days events and shock, falls asleep in one of the spare chairs in the GCPD building. Bruce practically melts in relief when he finds them, picking them up and gently loading them in his car. NOT A DAMN TRUCK. To take them back home. Most of the GCPD find the gesture touching. What a sweet father he is. How lucky Reader is to have such a loving father.

Arriving home, Bruce puts Reader to bed, and makes sure Alfred is on stand by to comfort them and see to their every need. Watch them. Let me know if there’s even the slightest sign of a nightmare.

After taking a moment to let his eyes linger on a sleeping Reader, he heads down into the Batcave. Calling the family together for a meeting.

Stephanie is distraught. It’s her fault Reader got taken, all her fault. She shouldn’t have left them alone. She should have been right there be their side the entire time. At every moment and got every second.

And, Bruce, with deceptively calm yet devastating words, confirms just as much.

Surprisingly, there’s no shouting. No disagreements. Not from Stephanie, and certainly not from any one else. Just the cold realization that it was her fault Reader was nearly hurt and the solemn acceptance of it. They were supposed to have a chance to get close. Stephane won’t ever let it happen again. She’ll always be close from now on. In every way she can. Even if she’s not worthy.

Jason having gone back to clean up his mess before reporting back to Bruce and the others had more startling news. No one mentions a thing when they see the blood on him. Nor the empty magazines. Nor that familiar look in his eyes that reminds them of when he first came back. Someone had torched the Iceberg Lounge before he got back. Penguin is still running free, but the lounge is up in fire and smoke.

He did manage to see a figure leaving when he finally saw past the flames.

A Talon.

The Court of the Owls was active once more.

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With the whole Kidnapping thing and the Court being active again despite its previous destruction, Reader’s life went on completely lockdown. They aren’t allowed to go into Gotham at all. Not that they wanted to. The only reason Bruce didn’t just unenrolled them from Gotham Academy is because Damian, Cassandra, and Duke vow to watch them closely and report everything back to him.

Alfred, from then on, drives them all to and from school. Leading to quiet, bordering awkward, mornings and afternoons.

After the whole ordeal with Penguin and Red Hood, Reader is ninety percent certain the family is Gotham’s Bat vigilantes. Mainly due to the fact that Red Hood reminded Reader eerily of how Jason acted to be around them. Luckily, he barely managed to hold himself back. But, it was clear, enjoyed their fear and wanted to scare them. The whole situation resulted in Reader’s momentarily loss of control.

It also didn’t help that everyone seemed to disappear now.

Sure, Reader rides to school with Cassandra and Duke everyday. Damian is also there, but he just silently watches them with those poisonous green eyes of his. The three of them now hovering in the distance down the back of Reader’s neck. Nevertheless, as soon as they were all back in the Manor, the place becomes like a ghosttown. Even Alfred disappears for hours on end now.

Reader rightful assumes it’s more Bat work. But, there’s no one there to talk about how the incident made them feel. To help them verbally process the ordeal. It hurts.

What hurt the most, however, was Stephanie avoiding them.

Now, if Stephanie had just given them even an empty excuse and left the room it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much. But, to watch the blood drain from Stephanie’s face at the sight of Reader and then physically run away from them was offensive and down right painful.

Then there’s the additional fact that, coincidentally, Jason starts showing back up at the manor. Undoubtedly, helping the others with whatever they’re doing in the library. But, Reader sees him as more often as they pace the empty halls of the manor. And, that hysterical gleam in his eyes reminds them of that night they were rescued.

Tim has been like a ghost since the beginning of Reader’s stay. Every time Reader seems to make progress befriending him, he disappears. Only to reappear and act like nothing happened. Unnaturally, he acts like they’re somehow even closer than before. Each and every time. Like he’s never let Reader alone. Ever. Like he’s always been there watching. And, then he disappears, again and again. Only staying for brief moments.

Barbara is just a thought in Reader’s mind. Reader has seen more of Jim Gordon, her father, than Barbara in the recent weeks.

Mr. Gordon had been wanting to check in on them after the incident and ask them a few questions on what happened that night at the Iceberg Lounge. He was quite gentle in his interrogation, if you could call it that. Barbara had told him Reader wasn’t used to Gotham’s madness and must be treated gently.

Not to say Barbara isn’t checking on Reader. Tim’s not the only on constantly checking the manor cameras as Reader paces.

Dick was like a stray wind. Blowing through the manor, knocking Reader over with the shower of affection then disappearing again. To the library. To Buldhaven. To the ends of the world and back for all they knew. Unfortunately, Reader was growing desperate for any sense of comfort and would cling to him when he came. You have no idea how happy that made him. It was so cute how sad Reader was when he left now. How nice it felt to be needed.

Bruce was different, though. After the incident, he somehow managed to find a way to suffocate Reader with his presence without even being in it for long. Appearing at random to just watch them before disappearing again. Nothing was ever said. He just watched them then vanished.

Reader dreads having to bring up the whole incident with Penguin and Red Hood to Nana. They don’t want to cause anyone back home to worry. Besides, it’ll just remind everyone about that incident a few years back. The one that Reader does everything to forget about. The incident that would probably change a few things for better or for worse. For the family and for Gotham.

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A/N: Yeah, Penguin lives. But, for a reason. Don’t get mad, please. (I did research and found out he was basically Yandere for his mother and killed his father and brothers to have all her attention for himself. And, he has children. 👀)

A/N: Also, reader’s getting some mild tragic backstory. It’s the DC universe. Everything’s gotta have a bit of bitterness. It’s all for the plot.

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Taglist:

@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury

[sunflowerrosewood]

He Has a Nightmare HC~ Gotham Boys

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of killing, nothing too graphic.

~~~

Jim Gordon 

~Jim has dealt with so much shit

~Between going after villains to dealing with the PD

~So when you two fell asleep one night

~He had a nightmare you were killed by multiple Gotham villains

~You don't notice he has a nightmare until you feel cold

~When Jim is sitting in the kitchen nursing something to drink

~But not facing the bedroom

~You have to come up from behind

~And hug him tight

~He will probably jump 

~But he melts in your embrace 

~He wont tell you want happened

~But he will allow to be vulnerable 

~And allow you to just mumble in a sleepy voice all the reasons you love him

Edward Nygma

~Edward didn't have nightmares often

~But seemed to have them after being in Arkham

~Then escaping to home

~You would only know when you heard him arguing with himself

~That he shouldn't wake you up

~That this makes him useless

~As you could hear him mutter these things

~Pull him down to the bed

~So you can cuddle into him

~And promise that you'll always be there

~Both sides will melt

~And he'll tell you about the nightmare 

~So you'll understand his pain

Oswald Cobblepot 

~Oswald had nightmares often

~And you usually knew

~The reason is that he talked in his sleep and would hold onto you tight

~You would feel his hands tighten

~And whimpers fall out of his lips

~You’ll probably have to wake him up

~Just to let him know that he is not alone

~He will be sweaty and his heart racing

~But as long as you kiss his lips

~And squeeze his hand

~Oswald will calm down

~Go get a washcloth to help him cool off

~And intertwine your hands before you fall back asleep

Jonathan Crane

~Nightmares plague his head all the time

~And it isn’t because it is his fault

~It usually has to do with his father

~And another person that you will know when he wakes up

~Because he gets as far away from you

~He is shaking in fear 

~It’s usually when he does not consume himself in fear

~But appears in his nightmare

~Allow him to slowly calm down on his own

~He’ll immediately climb back into bed 

~Because he needs to feel you by his side

~Usually he falls asleep slowly after

Jervis Tech

~Jervis usually has nightmares that his Alice runs away

~You ran away because he harms you

~Jervis is one of the ones who will wake you up

~Just to make sure you are real

~And still loves him

~Before you get tired again, you’ll notice the fear in his eyes

~Whisper to him how much you love him

~And kiss his cheek 

~Before cuddling into his chest which calms him down

Victor Zsasz

~Victor wont show he has nightmares 

~You usually know when you wake up

~And he’s sitting in the shared bathroom just staring

~No emotions are shown

~But you know what is going on

~So you’ll have to go in

~And kneel where you look up at him

~He won't say anything

~He’ll just pull you into his lap

~And holds you tight 

~Just the silent of the night is going to be heard

~Victor will pick you up and bring you back to bed

~Usually it takes just that before the two of you fall asleep

~Victor will probably mention his nightmare later on in the week

~When he is ready

Jeremiah Valeska

~Even after the spray, Jeremiah still gets nightmares

~It happens to be about him almost killing you

~And he’ll wake up to you being sound asleep

~He’ll touch your arm

~And sigh 

~Usually you know something happened because he’ll be in the lab

~Bent over

~And probably throwing things in anger

~When you ask him what’s wrong

~You’ll see the anger turn to worry

~An emotion you do not see often

~And Jeremiah will walk over to you to hold you tight

~Demanding you wont leave him

~Even though you never thought that way

~It’s feeling you near him that causes him to want to go back to bed with you

Jerome Valeska

~Jerome did not have nightmares too often

~He was awake in the middle of the night usually

~But when he did fall asleep and had nightmares

~He was similar to Oswald by holding you tighter against him

~But you would still be asleep 

~Until you feel him kissing your face and neck while rubbing your hip

~When you slowly wake up, Jerome will kiss you lips and grin

~Usually you wouldn’t ask much

~Until you watch his grin falter

~That’s when you touch his face

~And kiss him softly till Jerome makes you fall back into his chest

~Once the two of you hit the bed, he’ll still be rubbing your arms or hips

~But you’ll hear him yawn

~He falls asleep pretty quick

[cablecar-s]

to love and self loath

Description :

With the death of her lover too much to bear, she makes the decision to run away from her life as Spider Woman, finding solace in the most crime ridden place in the U.S: Gotham City.

Note:

Hello! I'm currently just testing the waters of Tumblr at the moment, so bear with me because I have no idea what I'm doing. Constructive criticism is welcomed, just remember to not be mean >:/ Enjoy the first chapter!!

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

Prepare For Trouble

"You're Spider-Woman, right?" He looked at her with a knowing yet amused smile on his face, all the while the woman who stood before him could only stare at him with slight bafflement. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she blinked at him, beginning to stammer.

"I.. What? How could you..? What kind of crazy.." She let out a small mix of what seemed to be a huff and laughter in trying to play off his not-so-false statement.

Her crush could only give her a look that read all too clearly as 'Really?' which led her to promptly give up, a sigh of defeat leaving her lips.

"I.. Yeah, you got me. I'm.. I'm Spider-Woman." She looked at him with a defeated smile. "How'd you know though? I thought I was pretty secretive!" She raised her hands up in defense, making him laugh.

"Well, with how much you sometimes ditch me last minute every time I hear sirens going off or how you always disappear out of thin air when something big or small happens, it was pretty easy to deduce the reasons why." He chuckled softly.

"You are also talking to the most smartest person in his entire school." He quickly added.

The female vigilante could only slightly scoff at this, looking around, as if someone else could hear the ridiculousness that was coming out from his mouth.

"Really now?" She questioned, almost mockingly.

Slowly, the two teenagers inched closer to one another while continuing to bicker, a teasing smile on both of their faces until finally they were mere inches away from one another.

"I hope you're not waiting for something." The teenaged boy said teasingly, a smile on his lips.

"No, not at all." The girl hummed, smiling back.

With the night air nipping at their skin, the warmth of their breaths could be felt on one another. And as they leaned in for a kiss, the floor beneath them fell in an instant, and they were soon falling down the clock tower.

With her spider suit on, breathing now heavy, adrenaline pumping into her veins, she watched as the boy she loved since high school began falling, watching as her single web was shot down towards him.

It was silent in that moment, everything having gone in slow motion, her web slowly reaching out to him, but was only seconds too late. The web, sticking itself to the man at the last second, his head still hitting the cold, hard floor, killing him in an instant.

The sound of her cries echoed in the now broken clock tower; grief, guilt, and anger consuming her body, until...

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP

In an instant the woman woke up, covered in her sweat, her heart pounding against her chest. Her fight and flight instincts having kicked in, her eyes darted around her new apartment, her brain slowly catching up as to where she was. 

The muffled sound of cars honking from outside her window was heard, the slight musty smell that her apartment had, and the multiple of unpacked boxes laying around in her small bedroom had slowly calmed her down.

Memories from a few days ago came back to her again, making her sigh while simultaneously burying her face into her hands, that night continuing to haunt her time and time again no matter how many times she had tried to forget. 

Finally turning the alarm on her phone off, she got herself out of bed and went to her bathroom to freshen up, her morning not doing so well with that dream of hers. 

Pulling her hair back from her face, the woman left her bathroom and started to continue where she had left off from yesterday with unpacking her stuff. Putting her playlist on shuffle, she began digging through all of the boxes that held her belongings, putting them in their respective places.

The female vigilante was glad to have gotten away from New York, it gave her time to take a break from playing Spider-Woman—and to hopefully heal. Though it's obvious someone from above thought it would be funny that she would be transferred in the most highest crime rated city: Gotham City.

There goes her vacation.

Though Gotham City should be fine without the help of Spider-Woman shouldn't it? They have all the other vigilantes that kept Gotham fairly safe.

From Batman and Robin to Nightwing, Orphan, Spoiler, hell they even have someone to protect Gotham in the morning, which would be Signal. Of course there was also Red Hood, though she still wasn't so sure if he was to be counted since he did run a few drug cartels.

Wasn't really her business though, as long as she didn't have to do any fighting in the mean time of her slight vacation. 

Boy was she wrong.

"I need you to take some photos of our vigilantes." Her new boss ordered.

"I'm sorry?" The woman furrowed her brows, staring at the woman who was busy typing away on her computer.

"You heard me. Pictures. Vigilantes. Stat." Her voice was monotone, yet it had a slight intimidation to it. 

The vacationing vigilante did her best in holding back her frustration, moving her arms a bit to exaggerate her words just a bit. 

"But Gotham is a lot more crime ridden at night. Can't you have one of the men do it? I'm sure they'd be less likely to get mugged unlike me." She couldn't help but huff, nothing but familiar with this attitude this older woman had.

She was very much the same as Jameson back at the Daily Bugle.

It wasn't long until the woman peeled her eyes off from her computer screen to stare at the vigilante with sharp eyes.

"Listen sweetheart, the reason why you were even transferred here was because of the crystal clear pictures you had taken of Spider Woman over back from where you're from." Opening a file cabinet from her desk, she flipped through a few divided folders before pulling one out in particular and opening it up, slightly tossing it in the middle of her desk.

Photos that she had taken slid itself out from its place in the divider, all of them of which were in good quality and all had good angles to them, only because she was quite literally taking pictures of herself in order to even obtain a job as a photojournalist.

"So it's either you take photos as nice as these of our vigilantes or we can throw you back to New York, your choice." Quite literally, Jameson's female doppelganger looked back up at her new transferee before going back to typing.

Letting out a small sigh, a muttered "Yes ma'am" left her lips before leaving her new demon boss' office. She really can't catch a break can she? 

Well it's not like she wasn't a night person in the first place right? Being able to do whatever she wanted during the day, and once the sun had disappeared and the darkness and rain had taken over Gotham was when it was her time to go out and do her job.

The only downside was how incredibly freezing cold it was in Gotham once night had hit. She could stand the cold to some degree, as a New Yorker she was quite used to the cold, but Gotham was a whole other story.

She should probably install thermos into her suit. As much as she didn't want to think about vigilantism, she knew deep down she would end up doing it, only reason she had brought her suit, which was buried in the deepest parts of her closets.

As her uncle had said time and time again: With great power comes great responsibility.

Being way too busy being deep in her thoughts while slightly, not really, looking as to where any of Gotham's vigilantes may be swinging by, the hair's on her body shot up, the familiar feeling of a tingling sensation in the back of her head appearing.

With swiftness, she side stepped a hand that had tried to take hold of the back of her neck. Turning around, she found herself eyeing three men, all having sinister smiles on their faces.

Just what exactly was her luck today?

"Come on boys, don't you think three of you is a bit much for a single woman like me?" She questioned, a nervous chuckle leaving her lips.

Every step back she had taken, they had taken two steps forward. They had glanced amongst each other, snickers leaving their mouths.

"Not with a lady as pretty as you." One of them commented.

Slowly, they had backed her into a closed off alleyway, all three of them laughing once her back had hit the brick wall.

Her eyes darted around, checking every crevice, every shadow, trying to see if any of Gotham's vigilantes will swoop down to rescue her, and save her the trouble of having to take care of these men herself. 

But there was no one, not even the slightest of movements, not a glint of lenses shining in the dim lighting. Welp, looks like she's on her own for tonight. 

"You guys, really don't want to do this." She warned them, but they only laughed more. They always laugh. Who wouldn't though? A helpless woman who you've backed into a corner telling you they're gonna regret what they're gonna do?

Good thing she wasn't just any ordinary woman though.

"We're gonna have so much fun with you pretty lady." One of them cackled.

"Ugh, how gross..." She muttered.

Glancing around one last time, this time, making sure there would be no bystanders to witness as to what was going to happen.

Pulling up the hood to her winter coat, she let out a sigh, raising one of her arms, pointing it towards one of the men.

"You asked for it." 

In the blink of an eye, her webs shot out from her wrist, a long string going straight for the one in the middle, before he was heaved straight towards the woman before making a harsh impact with a trash can lid.

"Ooh, you'll be feeling that tomorrow." She winced.

Grunts of surprise came from the other two men, but no matter how odd it was for webs to shoot out from a woman's hand, they proceeded to run at the female. With ease, she dodged their attempted charged attacks.

Her hands, opposite of the two men, shot out webs and took hold of the back of their heads before she pulled at the connected webs, causing the two men to bash their skulls together.

"You'll definitely feel that tomorrow." She chuckled. 

Taking a few steps back, she hesitated for a moment and stared at them before quickly rearranging the positions of their bodies.

"Just in case..." She muttered. With their backs all facing each others', she bundled them up in her webs, a precaution if they ended up gaining back consciousness before the morning

Dusting off her hands, she let out a satisfied hum before securing her hood once more before quickly jogging off, not wanting to be found at the scene of the crime. That would only cause herself more trouble. 

"Lets just call it a night, I'm freezing my ass off here." She muttered to herself, trying to bring her coat as close to her body as possible, not wanting to lose what bit of warmth her body was keeping.

Unknowingly to the spider though, a mysterious figure with their infamous red helmet had stumbled upon her small clean up, the two barely missing each other.

He stared at the scene in front of him, his helmet quickly getting to work in scanning the mysterious webs. With his boots softly kicking at the small puddles on the ground, he crouched down, taking a closer look at the webs.

His helmet broke down the composition of the webs, seeing how it was made with a few chemicals. Reaching out his hand, he began to touch the webs a bit, trying to rip at it for a sample.

It clung to his leather glove, and it took a bit of force until it got unstuck, it almost took his glove with it with how hard he was pulling.

"The hell..?" He muttered to himself.

He rubbed his fingers together, some of stickiness staying on his gloved fingers. He took out his knife from one of his secret pockets instead and cut a bit of the web off, making it cling to his blade.

"This shit better come off..." He grumbled before putting his knife away. 

Standing up, he took out his grapple from his utility belt before disappearing into the night. 

---

The spider quickly shot up from her bed, her breathing irregular and covered in her sweat again, tortured once again by that never ending nightmare. Her eyes darting around her bedroom once more, she takes slow deep breaths before covering her eyes with her hands, the palm of her hands pressing into her eyelids.

Letting out a deep sigh, she got out of her bed, doing her morning routine once more. Scrolling through her phone, she looks at the news of Gotham City, most of them mainly about the many crimes of the city, some of politicians, and others of Bruce Wayne. 

Before putting her phone down though, a message popped from the top of her screen, it was from her new boss.

"I better have those photos by the end of this week!!!!" It had read.

The woman only rolled her eyes, turning off her phone so she could dump her face in water. 

Leaving her bathroom, she rubbed her moisturizer onto her face while making her way to her living room that also shared her kitchen. Starting up her coffee machine, she made herself a quick PB&J in the meantime. 

Leaning against the counter as she slowly ate her sandwich, the smell of coffee beginning to waft in the air, the vacationing vigilante took a good look at her small apartment. 

It was.. 

A bit bland to put it nicely. 

Guess she was going shopping today. Quickly downing her coffee without trying to burn her tongue, she quickly got dressed and headed out to do a bit of shopping, to make her apartment just a bit more welcoming for the time that she was staying in Gotham. 

Though she had a bit of a tight budget, she managed to buy a few things well within it that there was a little left over that she could buy herself dinner.

By the time she was done shopping though, the sun was beginning to set, meaning that it was nearly time for the criminals of Gotham to come crawling out of their hiding spots to cause some trouble.

"Shit..." She muttered under her breath, holding onto her plastic bags tightly, her shoes tapping against the cement as she quickly tries to make it back to her apartment before she got mugged.

Her senses have heightened a bit as a sense of panic and wariness began to settle in her stomach. Her eyes flitted about, cautious of every corner, every shadow, every alley, the last light sunset disappearing over the horizon.

Cursing under her breath, her steps quickened, and then there she saw it. A blur of bright red, green, and yellow flying in the air; it was Robin.

Her boss's text from this morning came back to her, which only made her curse more. Of course she didn't bring her camera. The handles of the bags hanging from one of her arms, she quickly fishes out her phone from her back pocket, turning the flash on to take a quick picture of Robin before he disappeared off into the night.

She cursed at his nimbleness, taking a small step back as he flies above her, but just as she was about to take the picture, she had bumped into something sturdy. 

Blinking, she slowly turned around, only to come face to face with someone's chest, Batman's symbol on a black shirt, but instead it was in red.

Slowly, she looked up, only to find herself face to face with the Red Hood.

Click!

The flash to her phone went off as she took a picture of him.

next chapter ->

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hiii I love your writing!! Could I request a romantic and platonic matchup for DC and Gotham??

I just turned 20, she/her and I'd like to be matched with a guy. My favorite TV show is better call saul and I love playing video games (usually first person shooters, adventure games like half life but also puzzle video games, like portal) as for my personality I'm really shy when I first meet people but once I open up I'm really loud, I've been described as kind and funny and I'm really outgoing, however I'm kinda argumentative. I'm low key kinda spoiled and I jokingly whine/complain to my friends about stuff like how I'm really picky with food and stuff like that.

Hope that's enough and I didn't write to much at the same time lol! Thank you in advance and again you're a really talented writer!!

Hi! And thank you for your kind words! <3333

(Don't worry, I read your reuploaded request with your additional information!)

Of course, you can have both a romantic and platonic matchup for DC and Gotham!

I'm pretty excited about this.

I hope you like your matchups!

ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ

<3333

Enjoy!

Romantic And Platonic Matchups; DC and Gotham

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

DC;

Dick Grayson -

You first met Dick Grayson during your time as a secretary at Wayne Enterprises.

At first, you didn't know much about him except that he was Bruce Wayne's charming, athletic, ripped, and outgoing son.

He would often swing by the office with Bruce or attend meetings with the board, and you quickly realize he was different from most of the people who worked there.

At first, Dick comes off as charming but a little reserved.

You were the type to keep your head down and focus on the tasks at hand, but Dick’s infectious smile and friendly nature made it hard to ignore him.

In the beginning, you both didn't really talk much, well, you didn't talk much unless responding; though Dick carried most of the conversation, he wasn't upset about it.

He likes talking to you.

One day, he accidentally knocks over a cup of coffee in your office while trying to reach for a file, insisting he could deliver it for you.

The coffee fell to the ground, but nothing got spilled on, except the floor.

Super apologetic, Dick offers to buy you a replacement coffee.

Your friendship with Dick blossomed when you started spending more time together during work breaks.

He’d bring you coffee when he knew you were busy.

You both had a lot of laughs - especially when you argued over the best pizza topping.

Dick would always insist on pepperoni, while you’d argue for something fancier. It became a fun game of teasing each other.

He admired your fiery spirit, and while you found his charm and confidence attractive, you loved that he could see past your shyness and appreciate you for who you were.

When you’d vent about work, Dick would just listen patiently, offering the occasional advice with that knowing smile of his. He made you feel heard.

As time passed, you noticed your feelings for Dick becoming more than just friendly.

The way he’d laugh at your jokes, the way he’d compliment you out of nowhere, and the gentle touch on your shoulder whenever you seemed stressed made your heart race.

You found yourself thinking about him more than usual, especially after work when he’d text you to make sure you got home safely.

And at night, right before bed; you'd also think a lot about him then, too.

There was one evening when you were both working late on a project for the company.

You were focused on your work, but when Dick accidentally brushed your hand while handing you a file, you felt a spark, and everything seemed to slow down for a second.

He noticed the shift too, and although you tried to brush it off with a nervous laugh, you both started to be more aware of each other’s presence.

The tension was undeniable, but neither of you dared to address it.

Well, at that time.

The confession happened after a particularly long day.

You and Dick were walking down the hallway of Wayne Enterprises, and you joked about how you'd been working so much that you barely had time for yourself.

He paused, turning to face you with a soft smile as you both waited for the elevator. "You know, I’ve always admired how strong you are. You’re kind, funny, and you don’t take crap from anyone."

You flushed, mumbling, “I’m not that great.”

“But you are,” He said, taking a step closer. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately… Maybe we could try being more than friends. Maybe go on one date, if you want..?”

And with that, you said that a date sounded great.

And from that moment, everything changed.

One date turned into two, and then three, and then four, and then-

Dick was the kind of boyfriend who would show up at your door with flowers and chocolate for no reason at all.

He’d always be supportive of your goals and hobbies, and no matter how busy he was with his duties as Nightwing, he always made time for you.

Yeah, at this point in our relationship, you knew about his escapades in the night.

The relationship was comfortable yet exciting.

You two would have quiet evenings in, playing video games together, and arguing over which game was better - Half-Life or Resident Evil; Dick's favorite.

Dick loved that you were just as passionate about games as he was, and you enjoyed watching him get all serious when the two of you were trying to solve difficult puzzles in Portal.

He would leave little notes for you to find in the morning, like “You’re my favorite part of the day,” and they always made you feel special.

He’d also get involved in your art and writing projects, always eager to support you by giving advice or simply asking, “How’s the next chapter coming along?”

After a long day, Dick would always pull you into a warm hug and plant a soft kiss on the top of your head. He liked to rest his chin there while you both relaxed in each other’s company.

During rainy days, you two would go for walks with umbrellas, talking about everything and nothing.

When you were stressed, Dick would take your hand and pull you into a spontaneous dance in your living room, no music needed. He’d make you laugh, and for a moment, all the worries would melt away.

But, if a spontaneous dance party doesn't work, then he'll just sit with you, either talking to you, listening to you vent, or just sitting in silence.

He loves to take you stargazing, explaining the constellations to you.

You two would lie on the hood of his car, wrapped in a blanket, watching the stars, and he’d whisper how much he loves you.

~~~

Gotham;

Jerome Valeska -

You first met Jerome years ago at Haly’s Circus when it came into town.

Your friends dragged you along, and you weren’t all that excited at first - clowns? No thanks.

It was after the show, when you were wandering around, finishing off your cotton candy, that you found yourself face-to-face with Jerome.

His fiery red hair caught your attention first.

Jerome was wandering around himself, trying to get away from his mother, when he noticed you.

Seeing you just walking around, cotton candy in hand, he couldn't help but smile.

He introduced himself with a grin, that captivated you.

You didn’t know what to make of him, but you couldn’t deny his magnetic pull.

You lost contact after that night, but fate had other plans.

Two years later, you were shopping at a local mall one afternoon, minding your own business, when you suddenly spotted him again - Jerome, standing by a fountain in the center of the mall, looking like he owned the place.

He looked different, his hair was different, he was taller... And there were scares around his face.

You had heard about what he was getting up to, from people talking and friends who talked about the new maniac who was terrorizing Gotham.

But, seeing him again... He didn't scare you...

Jerome recognized you and a grin spread across his already-grinnin face.

He approached you with a strangely familiar chaotic energy, pulling you into a conversation as if no time had passed.

“Well, well, well, look who fate dragged back into my life!” Jerome cackles, eyes gleaming.

This time, he wasn't just the boy you met at the circus; there was a certain edge to him, a dangerous unpredictability.

Jerome’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he playfully teased you, and before you could protest, he kidnapped - in a loving way - you and whisked you away to his hideout.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, cupcake, we’ve got catching up to do!”

Once in his hideout, Jerome was nothing like the person you had first met.

He was intense, you could see that back at the mall, and his energy was darker.

But, again, there was still that charm, that irresistible draw that drew you into him when you first met two years ago.

You both spent hours talking, acting up on life, and Jerome couldn't help but be fascinated by how much you had changed, and how you also weren't scared of him.

He had thought about you a lot since the night you met.

He thought that if he ever saw you again, you would probably be scared of him.

But you weren't.

You sat next to him, a smile on your face, listening to him, as he listened to you.

You didn't even fight or cry or scream for help when he kidnapped you.

Was it really kidnapping if you went willingly?

You, in turn, couldn’t help but be intrigued by the man he’d become.

Jerome would tease that you had probably forgotten about him after that night you both met, but you shook your head, telling him that you had thought about him ever since then, always wondering about what had happened to him before you heard about his recent activities from your friends.

And when his mother was brought up, you understood; she was abusive towards him, and he was defending himself.

You thought the way that the police handled the situation was terrible, that tey should've natured him instead of alienating him.

No one should ever go through what he went through as a kid.

After catching up for hours, Jerome dropped you back off at the mall.

And for a moment, it was as if you had never left.

But, that wasn't the last time you were going to see Jerome.

He told you, "I'll see you soon."

So...

Before you knew it, Jerome would surprise you with random visits to your apartment.

How he knew where you lived, you'd never know.

Over time, your feelings for Jerome began to shift.

His unpredictable nature became more appealing, and his passion for chaos became contagious in a strange way.

He began to care for you in his own twisted way, pulling you into his plans and sharing his wild dreams of Gotham’s future.

He’d show you his softer side in small moments, like when he’d bring you flowers (often ones he “stole”), and the smile he’d give you made your heart race.

You started to notice how his chaotic mind seemed to calm when he was around you, and you found yourself caring more for him than you ever expected.

And Jerome?

He wasn't exactly subtle when it came to his interest in you.

Every time you were around, his eyes followed you like a spotlight.

If you rolled your eyes at him or complained about something, Jerome’s grin would only widen. He loved how you weren’t afraid to sass him right back.

When you were annoyed with him, he'd cup his chin in his hands, elbows on his knees, and just stare at you with the biggest, most ridiculous smile. “Aw, come on, dollface. You don’t really hate me, do you?”

You could never hate him.

Or be mad at him for long.

There were nights when the chaos quieted, and Jerome would lean against a wall or sit near you, his manic energy dulled.

His sharp, bright eyes would lose some of their madness, replaced with something that looked almost… Longing.

You caught him staring one night while you were absentmindedly playing with a puzzle you’d found lying around his hideout.

“What?” you asked, glancing at him.

He didn’t look away, just tilted his head, a small, strange smile on his lips. “You’re something else, you know that?”

It was one of those rare moments where Jerome wasn’t putting on a show.

If anyone else dared to look at you the wrong way, Jerome’s entire demeanor would shift. His gaze turned icy, his smile dangerous, and his arm would snake around you possessively.

He didn’t even need to say anything - just one look from him was enough to send a clear message. Mine.

Afterward, he’d grin at you like nothing happened, his earlier anger melting away as he kissed the top of your head.

Jerome wasn’t exactly the type to confess feelings. Emotions like love? Vulnerability? That wasn’t part of the act. Or so he told himself.

But after weeks (or months) of his teasing, dragging you into chaos, and sticking by you like glue, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that Jerome felt something for you.

One night, you were both lounging in his hideout - well, you were lounging; Jerome was pacing back and forth, waving his arms dramatically as he rambled about some grand scheme or another.

He kept sneaking glances at you, though, pausing mid-sentence like he was hesitating, which was… Odd for Jerome. It was subtle, but you noticed.

Finally, he stopped pacing altogether and plopped down on a somewhat tattered chair in front of you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His wide, manic grin didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“You know,” He started, waving a hand lazily, “This whole thing we’ve got going on - you and me, hanging out, running around, causing trouble - pretty fun, right?”

You blinked, unsure where he was going with this. “Yeah, it’s… Fun.”

“Exactly!” Jerome clapped his hands together and pointed at you. “That’s what I’m saying. Fun! Nothing serious. Nothing dramatic.” His voice pitched up ever so slightly as he spoke like he was trying to convince himself more than you.

“J…” You said, raising an eyebrow.

“No, no, no, don’t interrupt me, doll. Let me finish!” He threw his hands in the air and let out a laugh that sounded a little too forced. “See, if- and this is hypothetical, of course- if I did feel, ya know, a certain way about you… It’s not a big deal! I’m just saying that you’re… Kinda great. And I’m kinda into you. Maybe."

He started rambling faster, clearly trying to downplay it as if his feelings weren’t already written all over his face. “It’s just you’re funny and smart, and you keep up with me. You aren't like the rest of those idiots in Gotham who don't see me for me, don't see me for what I am trying to show- to prove! And you’ve got this cute little thing you do when you-”

You could see past the act - the twitch in his smile, the way his eyes flicked away from you like he was nervous, the way his hands fidgeted as he talked.

You saw a glimpse of the boy you once knew... For a moment.

You didn’t let him finish.

Without a word, you leaned forward, grabbed his shirt, and kissed him.

Jerome froze. Completely.

It was as if his brain short-circuited mid-sentence.

For once, Jerome Valeska - the man who never shut up - was completely silent.

When you pulled back, his wide eyes stared at you, mouth still half-open like he was stuck buffering.

Jerome's grin returned, spreading across his face like wildfire, before he pulled you back into an intense kiss.

Pulling back, he let out a laugh, "What was that for, dollface?"

You smirked, "You were rambling."

“Well, well, well… You really are full of surprises.” His voice was low, his eyes bright with mischief, but the nervous edge was gone.

“You didn’t let me finish confessing,” He teased, but the way he looked at you - soft and intense all at once - said everything he couldn’t.

“You didn’t need to,” You shot back, smiling.

“You know this means you’re stuck with me now, right?” he muttered against your lips.

You just laughed. “I think I can handle it.”

Whether you’re sassing him back, holding your own in an argument, or doing something smart (like solving a puzzle he gave up on), Jerome’s grin would practically split his face.

It’s in those moments that his pride in you becomes obvious.

He doesn’t just see you as some doll - you’re his equal, and he admires you for it.

Jerome's version of romance was chaotic but endearing.

He'd spoil you with extravagant gifts that he totally didn't steal.

Despite his wild side, he’d make sure you were always safe when things got tough. Whether it was protecting you from his own enemies or just making sure you didn’t get too caught up in his schemes, Jerome would do whatever it took to keep you close.

Jerome would always do little things for you, like making sure your favorite snacks were stocked, or surprising you with little spontaneous dates, whether it was a rooftop dinner under the stars or a walk through the streets of Gotham in the dead of night.

Despite his eccentricities, Jerome’s love for you was undeniable, even if it came in the most unexpected ways.

~~~

Platonic;

~~~

DC;

Tim Drake -

You met Tim during one of his many late-night coffee runs, where he was typing furiously on his laptop.

College, am I right?

Seeing the seven cups of coffee on his table, you couldn't help but look.

In shock.

He noticed you glancing over and made a sarcastic remark about his caffeine intake.

Which somehow turned into a friendly debate about video games.

Tim was intrigued by your shared love of puzzle-based video games and your knack for solving things quickly, and he couldn't resist asking for your take on a case he was puzzling over.

Yeah, he instantly told you.

You were just so trusting, and Tim was good at telling who was trustworthy and real.

And you were trustworthy and real.

Tim values your opinion immensely, especially when it comes to strategy and problem-solving.

You've become his unofficial "consultant" when he's working through complex cases or tech glitches.

When Tim is deep in work mode and forgets to eat, you’re the one who shows up with his favorite snacks, complaining about how he’ll end up with “detective burnout” if he doesn’t take care of himself.

He admires how you’re outgoing once you’re comfortable.

Late-night gaming marathons where Tim absolutely crushes at strategy games but hilariously struggles with killing zombies if you ever play Minecraft.

Tinkering with gadgets together—Tim shows you how to improve your gaming setup while you suggest tweaks for his tech to make it more user-friendly.

Long conversations about your favorite shows and video games, where you try to convince each other to pick up a new series or game.

Going to tech expos or escape rooms together because it’s the perfect mix of fun and a mental challenge.

Tim has a quiet way of showing his care - whether it’s remembering small details about what you like or showing up unannounced with something you mentioned wanting weeks ago.

"Hey! I found that new video game you mentioned!"

Despite his busy schedule, he’ll always make time for a quick call or text if he senses you need to talk, even if it’s just about random game theories or books.

You make sure he’s taking care of himself, occasionally teaming up with Alfred to enforce proper meals and sleep.

Whenever Tim doubts himself (because let’s face it, he does sometimes), you’re the first to remind him of how brilliant and capable he is, making sure he knows he’s valued beyond just his intellect.

~~~

Gotham;

Jim Gordan -

Your parents were friends with Jim, so you’ve known him for most of your life.

He was always the friendly cop who’d let you sit in the patrol car when you were a kid, making siren noises to make you laugh.

Jim is a protective figure in your life, often acting like a second parent or an older brother.

He’s the first to step in if he thinks you’re in trouble or hanging out with the wrong crowd (cough Jerome).

Yeah, somehow he finds out about that.

(Jerome can't hold a secret, so he probably blabbed.)

He doesn’t judge your quirks - whether it’s your picky eating or your tendency to jokingly whine about things, Jim just rolls his eyes and chuckles, finding it endearing.

You’re one of the few people who can get Jim to relax.

He trusts you enough to talk about his struggles at work or vent about Gotham’s endless chaos.

Coffee runs are where you make fun of how Jim drinks his black coffee while he mocks your order.

You’ve got a standing tradition of watching old noir detective films together - Jim likes pointing out how inaccurate they are, and you enjoy teasing him about being a cliché.

He sometimes takes you to the shooting range, teaching you basic skills in case you ever need to protect yourself in Gotham’s unpredictability.

Grabbing burgers at a diner after he wraps up a late shift, where you share stories about your day and exchange snarky comments about the people in your lives.

He’ll check in on you randomly, even when he’s swamped with work, to ensure you’re safe and doing okay.

He doesn’t hesitate to give you advice when you need it - he’s always ready to drop some tough love if he thinks it’s necessary.

*Cough cough*

Jim goes out of his way to subtly keep an eye on you when Jerome is involved, torn between protecting you and respecting your decisions.

He is really torn here.

You listen when Jim needs to unload about work, offering jokes to lighten the mood or sincere support when he needs it.

Whenever he’s looking particularly stressed, you surprise him with a takeout meal from his favorite diner, telling him to “stop being such a workaholic for, like, five minutes.”

You remind him to focus on the good he’s doing in Gotham, even when it feels like an uphill battle.

Once you start dating Jerome, your friendship with Jim takes a hit.

He’s clearly unhappy with your choice, but he also doesn’t want to lose the bond you share.

Jim tries to convince you to leave Jerome - and tattle on him where his hideout is/what Jerome's plans are - but when it becomes clear you won’t, he reluctantly agrees to respect your decision, though he’s always on guard.

Despite his disapproval, Jim doesn’t stop caring about you, and deep down, you know he’s still looking out for you in his own way.

[jasonsknight3]

Announcement: Collage will be starting again here soon. However, I am working ahead to at least have some things lined up for you guys, so I'm not just gone or missing because I still want to create and be active.

Moving on this short story is about the cat I mentioned AK Jason having in my previous head-canons. I really wanted to write how they met, and I did. I hope you enjoy. -Authors note. I cannot draw animals to save my life, but I wanted you guys to see Finnly anyway. Plus this is unedited sorry for any mistakes or odd parts.-

First greetings

The misty rain fell to the ground with no sound. No doubt it would get worse here pretty soon. The rain would become a full on storm. Naturally, rain is good company for a gloomy night in Gotham. Jason pulled his red hood up further over his blue gray ball cap. He had nothing to do tonight. He was feeling lazy anyways and had almost little to no motivation to do anything vigilante related. Not tonight.

As he walked at a steady pace he pulled out his phone to check the time. 3:46 pm. With a sigh he shoved the phone back into his pocket. “What a pain.” He said pulling out a cigarette lighting it. The cigarette illuminated part of his face. The day he didn’t want to do anything of course he couldn’t sleep. No rest for the weary. Just up ahead he swore he heard a tiny voice. Adjusting the volume on his hearing aid he listened a little more and of course there it was. Walking closer the voice became clearer. “Mama said I can’t keep you. I wish I could. I’ll miss you. I hope you grow up to be a happy cat.” Looking around the corner there was a small blonde girl talking to a box. The girl with tears in her eyes puts the box on top of the dumpster. “I promise I still love you.” She said before turning in Jason's direction. Jason moved quickly to rest flat against the uncomfortable brick wall as the little girl ran off crying.

Once the girl was out of sight he rounded the corner into the musty alley way. A soft mewling sound came from the box. Upon his further inspection he discovered there was a kitten. Of course he knew what it was beforehand but this just confirmed it. A small thing. Petite. Its fur was ultimately black with white fur framing its eyes and white patches elsewhere. Its blue eyes looked up at him. Another soft mewl coming from it. After a moment of staring Jason began to walk away. The once soft sounds became desperate causing Jason to come to a halt. In that moment the mist rain turned into a terrifying downpour. The kitten's cries became even more desperate calling out to him. A painful tightness grew in Jason’s chest. With a growl of frustration he walked back over to the box looking in.

The kitten raised up pawing at the edge of the box still crying out to him. Picking it up he brought the small thing to his eyes level. “Just to be clear. I don’t like you. You are an inconvenience if anything. The only reason I’m taking you in is because…” the kitten watched Jason wide eyed making the tightness worsen a little. However, it wasn’t exactly painful. He couldn’t describe it really. Jason set the kitten in the box making it cry. “Oh shut up. I’m not leaving you. Relax.” He said slightly annoyed. Jason turned his red hoodie backwards making the hood part in the front. Picking up the kitten he placed it in the hood. Taking Jason by surprise the kitten immediately settled down nuzzling in and getting comfy. “What I said earlier. About you being an inconvenience. I didn’t really mean that. I just-“Jason sighed. “I have issues. Lots and lots of issues. I promise I won’t hurt you though. Promise.” He cooed as he started to journey home.

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Title: Perfect

Pairing: Jim Gordon/Reader

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: You should've known that Valentine's Day with Jim would be perfect, even when you hated Valentine's Day.

Notes: Happy Valentine's Day!

Warning: fluff and cheese incoming.

You had never been a fan of Valentine’s Day. Even when you were in a relationship, it had always seemed to you like a day that only benefitted corporate America. Not that you hated the excuse to be romantic with Jim, but the point was that you never really needed an excuse. The two of you were romantic with each other all the time. Part of you wanted to insist that you skip any silly Valentine’s Day celebration or grand gestures and just spend it the way you would spend any other Wednesday, but the look on his face when he proudly proclaimed over breakfast a few days before that he had thought of the perfect Valentine's Day activity kept your cynicism at bay. He seemed so excited. Who were you to yuck his yum?

“So, listen, what I was thinking was that we could recreate our first date,” he said as the two of you got into his car to head home on Monday.

You furrowed your brows. “Uh… are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, I thought it’d be cute and romantic.”

Your brows shot up over your eyes, but apparently he hadn’t noticed.

“We can go to that little Italian place, and then go for a walk in the theatre district,” he said, and your expression returned to one of bewilderment. “Maybe even stop at that same little street cart off of Monroe and get some —”

“That was our second date,” you said.

He narrowed his eyes, looking over at you as you came to a stop at a red light. “Wait a minute, are you saying you count what was supposed to be our first date as our actual first date?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because we got called into a murder scene before we even got to the restaurant and then spent practically the entire night going over casefiles of similar MOs and waiting on DNA evidence,” he replied.

“Yeah, so? It was still our first date,” you insisted.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I say it stopped being our first date the moment we were interrupted and had to go to work.”

“Are you kidding? We got to spend the whole night together,” you argued with a smile.

“The whole night looking over other murders instead of eating at a restaurant. Yeah, some date. I didn’t even kiss you at the end of the night.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have kissed at the end of the first date anyway,” you teased.

“Oh really? Cause I seem to remember your hands wandering a bit on our do-over date,” he teased.

“I told you, you had dust on your pants,” you answered, trying to contain a smile.

“Oh, that’s right,” he conceded. “Anyway, that night was our first date. Not the one where we didn’t even get to go to dinner.”

“We did have dinner, it was just shitty takeout at the precinct. We still talked, we still got to know each other more. And we danced to the copy machine!”

Jim smiled at the memory.

“Why would you wanna erase that? That was romantic and cute in it’s own special way. I mean, okay, I agree, the murder was a bit too much blood for a first date —”

“You think?”

“Okay, but I don’t focus on the moments that weren’t ideal first date scenarios. I think about the conversation we had while we were waiting on the DNA to come back, and the shitty take out while we were going through old case files looking for similar MOs, and dancing to the copy machine! Seriously, who can say that they’ve danced to a copy machine?”

“Probably not that many people,” he mumbled, sighing after a moment, but apparently refusing to concede. “I still don’t count that as our first date. At best it was maybe a dress rehearsal.”

“A dress rehearsal?”

“Yeah, dress rehearsal,” he answered, the corner of his lips curling after a moment. “You wore that little black dress with the feather prints on it that buttoned down the front.”

You smiled to yourself as you remembered the look on his face when he first saw you in that dress. “I like that dress.”

“Me too,” he replied, pulling up to the curb in front of your building. “Hugged you in all the right places and showed just enough to make me want to undo all those buttons. It drove me crazy.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I mean, I knew you liked it, I didn’t realize you liked it that much,” you said, getting out of the car and waiting for him to reach you on the sidewalk before you walked into the building together.

“I still think about you in it sometimes,” he murmured in your ear while the two of you made your way to the elevator.

Your cheeks warmed and you bit down on your bottom lip, slinking your arm around his. “You looked really good that night too. You should roll up your sleeves to your elbows more often.”

Smirking to himself, he followed you into the elevator and pushed the button for your floor, turning to you when the doors closed. “So you concede that was a dress rehearsal and not actually our first date?”

“No way,” you answered, smiling when he groaned.

“You’re telling me you had more fun that night than on our real first date?”

“Second date.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “You had more fun that night than on our next date?”

“Well played,” you replied. “It’s not about whether I had more fun, it’s that it was so memorable that I don’t want to let it go just because there was a little blood and a couple dead bodies.”

“A little blood?”

“Okay, a lot of blood. That night is still special to me,” you answered. “Even though it wasn’t what we planned, even though it wasn’t ideal, it’s ours.”

He sighed softly, but it wasn’t until the elevator stopped on your floor and you were standing at your front door, waiting for him to unlock it that he turned to you, opening the door to let you in and said, “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, grinning as he locked the door behind you both.

“That doesn't exactly help me though,” he said, tossing his keys on the foyer table. “I can’t recreate that night.”

“You don’t have to, we can recreate our second date like you wanted —”

“Yeah, but the whole romance of it was that I was recreating our first date,” he answered.

“Oh Jim, I don't care about that. I don’t care what we do as long as we’re together. I don’t need anything fancy, I just need you.” You took off your gun and badge and set them on the counter.

“I know, but we didn’t get to spend Valentine’s Day together last year,” he said.

“That’s cause Ramirez got the flu,” you replied.

“Well, still, it’s gonna be our first Valentine’s Day that we spend together. I just want it to be special.”

Smiling at him, you wrapped your arms around his trunk, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. “It’ll be special no matter what we do because I’ll be spending the night with you.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he replied, seeming to let it go.

Jim had arranged the schedule so that he would be off while you only worked one shift on Valentine’s Day, which was nice enough for you. You didn’t need anything extravagant to make the day special and you certainly didn’t need the entire day. Still, Jim would not be deterred; from the moment you got home at five thirty, you were greeted with white and red rose petals that led from the front door down the hallway. Instinctively, you smiled at the gesture, but when you looked up to find Jim, he was nowhere to be seen.

The cop in you kicked in for a moment after you called out to him, but got no answer. That was unusual — even when Jim was busy doing something, he would always answer when you called out to him after getting home, and you always did the same. There was a faint sound coming from the bedroom and you instinctively pulled out your gun, following the rose petals down the hall.

“Jim?”

Still no answer, but the noise was a bit clearer as you neared the bedroom. Music. And it was a song you vaguely recognized, but still couldn’t quite make out. Using your foot, you pushed the bedroom door open and scanned the room. Everything looked normal except for the music, which you now realized was coming from the adjoining bathroom. The lights were dimmed, but you didn’t see or hear any sign of Jim, and you started to think the worst. Raising your gun, you slowly made your way toward the bathroom, using your foot again to push the door open.

“Whoa!” Jim exclaimed, instinctively putting his hands up. “Hi. Can you put the gun down please, sweetheart?”

With a sigh, you lowered your weapon. “You didn’t answer, you scared the tits off me. I started to think something terrible happened.”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to surprise you,” he said, coming up to you. It was at that point that you realized he was wearing a bathrobe. Looking around, you saw tea candles all around the bathroom, a bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne chilling inside it and a bowl of strawberries. The tub was filled with a steaming bubble bath, and the music that played made you grin to yourself as you began to recognize it.

“Wow,” you said.

“Yeah, wow. Let’s put the gun down,” he suggested, gently taking the gun from your hand and setting it on the vanity. “And let’s get your clothes off.”

“That song…” you said as he unbuttoned your flannel shirt.

Jim smirked at you. “It’s the one that was on the radio when we were coming back from the docks the day we met.”

“I can’t believe you even remember that,” you said.

He pushed your shirt over your shoulders, kissing one while he lowered your bra strap off the other. “Of course I remember that,” he whispered against your skin, one hand going to unhook your bra to pull that off as well. “I remember everything that has anything at all to do with you.”

You shivered as he lay kisses along the side of your neck, his hands busying themselves with unbuckling your belt before he unbuttoned and unzipped your pants. He pushed them down, waiting for you to toe out of your shoes before he helped you step out of your khakis and looked you over.

“Christ, you are so beautiful,” he purred, pulling you against him.

You hummed at the feel of his soft robe against your nipples, your hands moving to the sash on the front, untying it and pushing it open to expose his bare chest.

“This is really beautiful,” you said as you pushed the robe off of him.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. “I may have ordered dinner from that shitty take out place.”

“The one from our first date?” you teased, taking your underwear off the rest of the way before doing the same with your socks.

“Don’t start that again,” he replied, gesturing to the tub with his head. “Go on, hop in.”

The two of you sat on opposite ends of the tub, your legs intertwined while he reached for a champagne flute, handing it to you before he picked up the bottle from the ice bucket.

“How was first shift?” he asked playfully.

“Not bad. Actually pretty quiet, criminals must’ve thought to take the day off or something.”

“There’s a first,” he mumbled, pouring some of the bubbly drink into your glass before he poured himself one. Putting the bottle back into the ice bucket, he toasted with you. “Well, we have the rest of the night all to ourselves.”

“What’s on the docket?” you asked, lifting yourself a bit to pick out a strawberry for you to eat.

“I thought we could relax in the bath for a bit, and then have dinner while we watch a movie. You choose whichever film you want.”

“You’re gonna hate me,” you said with a wince, taking a bite of your strawberry.

“I could never hate you,” he replied.

“I kinda wanna binge-watch Dance Moms.”

He nodded and lowered his eyes. “Okay, I hate you a little bit.”

You laughed with the back of your hand over your mouth. “We can watching something else if —”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he assured you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I said you could choose. I meant it.” He picked up a strawberry for himself and took a bite.

“All of this is amazing, Jim. Thank you so much.”

He smiled back at you, seemingly satisfied with himself. The hand not holding his flute grazed along your calf, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he swallowed what was in his mouth. “Look, I know you’re not one for Valentine's Day celebrations —”

“I never said that,” you answered.

“I heard you talking to Stephens about it last week,” he said. “And you’re right about one thing, we don’t need a special day to be romantic. We never have. But if there’s an occasion that gives me an excuse to pull out all the big guns, I’m gonna take it every single time. Because you deserve it.”

You smiled at him, taking a sip from your flute. “That’s fair. And you really do romance so well, it’d be a shame for those skills to go to waste.”

He winked at you. “My thoughts exactly. And I’m even willing to overlook that you’re a Valentine’s Scrooge —”

You gasped playfully, using your heels to slide yourself closer to him. “I am not a Scrooge.”

“You snarled at the Valentine’s decorations in the lobby of the precinct just yesterday,” he reminded you with a smirk. “And rolled your eyes at the guy selling flowers off of seventh the day before. Face it, honey, you hate Valentine’s Day.”

There was a brief moment of silence as you let his words linger in the air, relieved that he didn’t seem to be taking your aversion to the holiday personally.

“Okay, so I do, a little bit “ you conceded. “You know it’s just an excuse for corporate America to cash in. If you love someone you shouldn’t need capitalism to tell you when to be romantic.”

“That’s true, and I’ll admit that chocolates are always way overpriced around Valentine’s Day.”

“Yes! They know. They know people will buy them, so they mark up the prices and then sit in their gaudy mansions and laugh their asses off because not only have they just made bank off of the hopeless romantics and the saps, but also people praise them for it. And don’t even get me started on the damn teddy bears.”

“Okay, no. Please do not talk about the teddy bears,” he begged, picking up a strawberry and stuffing it between your lips. “I want us to enjoy the night together, and as much as I love watching you get all riled up, I do not want to listen to you rant all night.”

You bit into the strawberry and turned to slide your bottom between his legs, your back to his chest. “Just so you know, if I ever find myself enjoying Valentine’s Day, it’s because I’m spending it with you. Everybody else can eat a dick.”

He snorted into his champagne flute as he took a drink, trying not to spit it out. Swallowing, he pressed his nose against your hair.

“All this though,” you continued, looking around the room with a lazy smile. “All this is amazing.”

“You like it?” he mumbled into your ear.

“Mhm,” you hummed, snuggling back against him. “It’s making me think maybe Dance Moms isn’t exactly the right tone.”

“I didn’t wanna say anything, but yeah, Dance Moms — however fascinating — isn’t exactly the most romantic,” he answered. He set down his flute and gently began to massage your shoulders.

“You’re right,” you said, relaxing against his touch. “How about Breathless? You said you’ve never seen it.”

“Yeah, I could go for that.” He dropped a kiss on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your waist. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jim,” you answered, turning your head to kiss his lips. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but you’re an amazing boyfriend. I’ve never been so happy.”

You felt his mustache twitch and just knew he was smiling.

“That makes two of us,” he whispered into your ear.

The two of you stayed in the bathtub a while longer, leisurely washing each other and taking small breaks to share a series of kisses every now and again. Eventually the water began to cool past the point of being comfortable, and Jim helped you out of the tub and into the shower to warm back up and rinse the bubbles off you. All the while, Jim doted on you with praises, kisses and sensual touches. Afterwards, he wrapped you in a fluffy robe that matched the one he’d had on when you came in.

He brought the bucket that held the bottle of champagne and both your flutes while you took your gun into the bedroom, setting it on the dresser. The two of you got dressed — you in a oversized t shirt and him in a pair of soft flannel pants — and went into the living room. Jim stopped off in the kitchen to reheat the takeout and bring it over to the couch before you played the movie.

After you finished eating, Jim excused himself to the bathroom while you picked up all the garbage from dinner, and poured you both some more champagne. When he came back out, he snuggled up with you on the couch, spooning you from behind and finished the movie with you.

All in all it had been one of the best Valentine’s Days you’d ever had, your feelings on the actual holiday notwithstanding. Though you had no idea that there was one surprise left.

When you walked into the bedroom later that night, there were rose petals and hershey kisses scattered on the bed, a full box of your favorite chocolates leaning against your pillow. He must have set it all up when he’d gone to the bathroom earlier. And even though you had already known it all along, you realized just how lucky you were to be with Jim Gordon.

[justcallmesakira]

1. I AM LAUGHING NO NEED TO POINT A WEAPON AT ME

2. What does mansplain mean again?

LOLOLOL SAFETY MEASURES

Idk i just tag whatever comes in my popular tags-

[lubtubby]

†▴✪𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐴𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝐺𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑛, 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑠, 𝑇𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑦, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑉𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 ✪▴†

୧𝙷𝙲𝚂 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙶𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚗, 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜, 𝚃𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚗୨

•𝚈'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

•𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜, 𝚎𝚝𝚌 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 (𝚝𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚜)

•𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙶𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚗 (𝙸'𝚖 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎?) 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐.. 𝚂𝚘 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗

•𝙰𝙻𝚂𝙾. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚂𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. (𝙿𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 😛)

•𝙶𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 / 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝

•𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚍𝚐𝚎

•𝙶𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚗 (𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜) 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢'𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜, 𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚢

❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁

This is really short and shit but someone's gotta contribute something to this dead ass Fandom!! Also it's been sitting in my drafts since Easter

[unacknowledgeable]

Uhm, hey!

I love your serial killer reader so so much, and I just want to say that it just scratches that itch in my brain.

Though, I feel like commissioners Gordon could be a yandere of a sort. He’s obsessed with the killer and finding this person, willing to break any law to find evidence, to risk his own morals to get a clue. And if he finds out its reader???

Well, I’ll be kinda like a Hannibal and will situation, but platonic. Like, reader now has their sight on this man, curious on how he’ll play the game, and Gordon is too obsessed not to play.

Anyway, could I be 🔎? Thanks for reading!!

Oh anon, anon anon anon, big kith for you (to transfer the worms, obviously) I told myself i would take a BREAK, but you, you, I'm bouncing off the walls bc of you

Y’know I actually have a spreadsheet with all of the batfams ages? when certain events happen, motivations, etc, now I gotta add gordon too, goodness me.

I honestly haven't watched Hannibal QwQ haha, would you believe me if I said most of the media I consume is actually feel good kids cartoons….? 

BUT I have been wanting to watch it so I watched the first few episodes before replying to this, because I gotta be informed y’know? admittedly i find there's a lot of disconnect between the correlating characters, but this is a wonderful jumping off point!

ANYWAY, I have actually been trying to think of a way to give the MC more of a life outside of angst with the batfam and, well, you know, murdering people. and this? This is so fun. I think the MC would probably know Gordon through Barbara (obviously), but that's not how they met. He was there, the night your mother died, arriving on the scene to find something he had hoped he wouldn't have found again, not after the first time. A small, 8 year old child, orphaned in a single night.

 Admittedly, that's where the similarities ended.  Where Bruce lost his parents in a back alley of Gotham, you lost yours within your own home. Where two gunshots marked the Wayne couple, your mother was bludgeoned . Where Bruce had wept, blood on his shoes as he gripped his parents bodies, pleading and fighting to hold on, you sat outside, waiting for police to arrive, not a drop of blood on you. 

Getting you to answer questions was like pulling teeth, all they could gather was that your mother had sent you to bed and you later woke up to find her body in the kitchen, having already been dead for several hours. They figured it was a robbery gone wrong, which would explain the killer not knowing another person was in the house, having fled the scene as soon as possible. But that didn't explain why on earth you didn't wake up to what was obviously a loud struggle, there was simply no way. 

The blood results very quickly answered that question and sparked hundreds more. Your mother had been microdosing your food with sleeping pills, all found within the apartment under her name. Either she didn't want to deal with putting you to bed or wanted to make sure you stayed there throughout the night. The fact that you were even still conscious was kinda a miracle. Gordon seriously wished that had been the biggest surprise from those damned tests. Because it turned out his earlier comparisons with Bruce Wayne were far more accurate then he ever would have guessed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's not exactly a stretch to assume Gordan kept some kind a of contact with you after everything is settled, he’s done it before, dudes literally one of Bruce's best friends 

He sees you at charity galas a lot, and after catching you trying to sneak alcohol from one of the tables? He appoints himself as your chaperone for any galas you both happen to attend from there on out, which is quite a few of them over the years

You'd have been a lot more annoyed with him if he hadn't allowed you to ramble and talk non-stop throughout the whole event (he was a distraction, like the alcohol, at least this distraction is legal)

This continues on even when your older, when he no longer has any legal need to herd you away from the drink tables, it's just habit now, and you hate breaking habits

While your connection with Bruce can get you many places, it's your connection with the Commissioner that basically guarantees you a position in the coroner's office

yeah, they work in the coroner's office as a mortuary assistant heheheeh  

It's not really suspicious either, Gordon had been well aware of your goal for the job for many years (long before you started making the bodies yourself)

So now, not only do you have near unlimited access to all the case files the bats have on you, you also had access to what the police knew (it's mostly the same stuff, but you had to cover all your bases, god you're just like your father)

There was some sort of irony, performing autopsies on the people you killed, but you don't care to look for it, more focused on destroying any bits of evidence you can

Gordon is no stranger to giving out confidential police info, hell he has a glorified flashlight built specifically to call the bat and just hand him case files, ON TOP OF THE POLICE STATION!!

You often work similar hours, so you let him talk and talk and talk at length about how fucking weird this serial killer in particular is

Unlike with the batfam, reader literally gets a front row seat to Gordon's descent into obsession

You'd seen him with almost every other criminal case that popped up during your time spent around the police department, so you caught on pretty quickly that this was was no normal case to him anymore

He was obsessive, rattling on about the motives and habits of this killer, talking like he knew them personally (oh the ironyyyy) and at first? It weirded you the fuck out.

Not the behavior in general, but that it was essentially focused solely on you, you kept him up at night, kept him guessing, wondering when you’ll strike next, how brutal will it be, more or less than usual?

At first you're like “oh okay, ummmm…. you good buddy? I'm not sure you're all there yourself actually”

You'd just never felt so seen, at least, not by someone still living

Now, Gordon's obsession isn't based on nothing, when I said he found the way SK!reader operated weird asf, I meant it, this man is utterly baffled by it

Normally, when crime scenes are as brutal as yours, its personal, they know the person they've murdered and they hold so much rage in their heart that they can't help but try to cause as much damage to the victim as possible

These crimes also only ever happen once. Not dozens and dozens of times, committed by the same person, it is always so insanely messy that it's easy to pinpoint the who, how and why. Open and shut cases really, just another Tuesday

But when he looks closer? It feels…. Sterile, Methodical, Planned out, scripted, like hitting replay on a particularly interesting scene in a show

This? This has all the showy, over-exaggerated nature of Gotham's greatest rogues, down to the last detail, to the last drop of blood. but it's missing the rogue

It has all of the signs of an attention seeking psychopath, but none of the drive to follow through. To take your rightful credit

Normally such a passionate crime would have someone of equal magnitude behind it. The Joker and his killing Jokes, Ivy and her Eco-terrorism, Bane and his hulking demeanor, Two-face and his double standards-

The point is, there's always a show before the Finale, but with you? He only gets a glimpse at the film before the end credits roll. 

It’s like you're diverting where your real motivations lie, like this is you holding back.

 It’s driving him up a wall

 Your really not making this easy for him, ever your fathers child

Besides that, I'm gonna end this with a few interesting points I thought of that are more difficult to go into more detail rn

Reader is pretty okay with hanging out with Gordon mostly to be petty to Barbara

Of the mindset of “oh, you want my dad? Fine, your dad's mine now. Y oink-”

Later, this'll be a pretty big blow to Bruce's ego, bc like, that's his best friend, so how can he really be upset that Gordon stepped up where he failed? Won’t stop him from being mopey about it though.

It's also a hit to Alfred's as well, because how hadn't he noticed you growing so close to the commissioner? He thought your pulling away from him for emotional support was just you growing up, not you looking for it elsewhere 

Gordon has also gotten the closest to finding the reader out, completely by accident

It was one of those days and he was worried about your sour mood, so he figured he’d drop by your workplace, pick you up after your shift ended, and go get take out

Safe to say, he was not expecting to find you mid brawl with some random drunk in an alley only 4 blocks away from where you worked

He stepped in immediately, to your surprise and horror, but he… he checked you for damage instead of slapping you in cuffs, made sure you were okay before calling an EMT to the location, and the only questions he had asked were “Are you okay sprout?”

You thanked your lucky stars that it was the drunk who had thrown the first swing, had instigated the fight, that the camera from the corner store across the street helped solidify that it was self defense, that Gordon had shown up just before it switched to a grizzly murder, and not during.

Another side story could also be the reader getting weirdly invested in the case about them at some point, because they realized they had a copycat killer and it really pissed them off lol

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

imagine like reader being a detective or something, being on the case to catch Red Hood (while he’s still a crime boss)/ the Arkham Knight, but being in a relationship with Jason, unaware of his nightly business. And then boom, they find out one day and it’s all angsty 🤞🤞 love ur work btw hihi

Betrayal

Hi, nonnie! I thought I had this done earlier, but then I had to keep world building. Stuck with Red Hood on this one. Hurt/No comfort warning. Non-graphic, very minor character death. ~1.8k words

Gotham is cursed. That's what they told you when you transfered to the GCPD. Yeah, you've heard the stories, but they're just messing with you, right? Trying to scare the newest rookie cop.

Except they were telling the truth. A few years later, more cases than you can keep track of, enough masked rouges to fill arkham three times over, and a promotion to detective, you tell the rookies the same thing they told you. Gotham is cursed.

"Alright, Detective, this one is yours." You make a face at the case file the Commissioner drops on your desk.

"Sir, I took care of The Penguin robbery last week, isn't it someone elses turn to deal with the high profile cases?" You gingerly pick up the file, reading over the name Red Hood stamped on the front.

Gordan sighs at you, already turning away to move onto the next poor detective. "We cycled through everyone else after the Black Gate breakout. Anyone who didn't work on it has active cases. That makes this one yours."

You grumble reluctantly, cases like this lead to more press coverage than you want to deal with, but start flipping through the file, mentally noting down the sparse facts and theories about the up and coming crime lord.

That was four months ago. In such a short amount of time, Red Hood has taken over more territory in Gotham than any other crime lord and completely changed the game. No dealing to children, no human trafficking. You hate to acknowledge it, but crime technically has dropped since he took over the majority of gangs in Gotham under an iron fist.

The work is exhausting, he's always one– no, five steps ahead of you and your growing team of detectives and beat cops. You don't think you've even gotten a real glimpse at him that he didn't mean to let you have.

The closest you've gotten to Red Hood was out of uniform, weeks after you got the case, when he was still a new name on the streets.

It was a robbery, some desperate punk in a mask that didn't conceal anything, was dragging a little girl out of the store as a hostage.

"Take me instead, she's just a kid." You had protested, heart sinking at the terror in the little girls face.

"Not a chance." He barked back at you.

"Look, she's scared, she'll only slow you down."

The gunman stares at you, you see his fingers twitch. "Fuck it. Fine. Both of you are coming with me." That's how you ended up in some alley, familiar sirens wailing in the distance and your hand curled protectively with the child's.

"Shit. Man. Shit. The cops weren't supposed to be here. What am I gonna do? I can't go to jail." He's snapping. Rambling and desperate. Your eyes dart for some kind of plan, a way to help the little girl stay safe. But the alley is empty, not even a dumpster to seek shelter behind. "I just gotta get rid of the witnesses. Yeah. The witnesses."

Your eyes dart to him, he's lifting the gun. You don't hesitate to grab the little girl, wrapping your arms around her and turning your back to the man, tucking her to your chest to provide as much cover as you can provide.

A gun fires.

There's a thud.

You look over your shoulder, the girls face still hidden against you. He's not moving, gun unshot and laying next to him on the ground. There's a pool of dark liquid forming around him. You look up.

You manage to see a red glint, the shine of a gun, the eerie glow of a luminescent eyes. Red Hood.

That's all you manage to see before you're swarmed by cops, guiding you and the girl to safety.

It's a memory that plays in your mind sometimes, when you hear testimonies of how Red Hood saves people in crime alley, despite his crime lord status. It's confusing, exhausting even, to try and sort between the good and the bad, the duality of one man. At least you have your loving boyfriend to come home to.

Jason. He makes you feel like Gotham might not be so cursed. It's great, he gives you butterflies. He makes you happy. You cook meals together, and you both work the weird twilight/night shift hours. He holds you like you're precious under your shared comforter. You think you might love him. He whispers sweet nothings into your hair when he thinks you're sleeping. You kiss his palms when his eyes get that far away, haunted look he can’t seem to explain.

He's insisted on cooking dinner tonight as you watch him, a little starry eyed. You can't really blame yourself when he's shirtless and working over your favorite meal.

"Oh, Jason, I need to wash my clothes. Do you need anything done?" You ask, finally remembering that you do actually have a job and responsibilities and you can't stare at your handsome boyfriend all day.

"No, I'm good, baby. Go ahead and do your thing. Dinner's almost done." He answers idly, shooting you a lazy grin as you stand.

You smile back before leaving the kitchen to gather your clothes. As you dump the dirty laundry in the washer, you realize you never refilled the detergent. Mumbling an annoyed curse, you head to the spare bedroom you rarely use. There should be some extra necessities stock piled in there. You know, for the next time a criminal messes with Gothams chain supply.

You're more focused on the delicious smells floating through the apartment as you open the closet door, idly looking around for the detergent. That's why it doesn't really click in your mind what you're looking at. Guns. Armor. Your thoughts freeze to a stop. Are you dating some kind of henchman? A bright red helmet takes up your vision. Nope. You're dating a crime boss.

The helmet is in your hands and you're fumbling your way to the kitchen before you even have your thoughts sorted. Should you call for back up? Shouldn't you try to catch him by surprise? Sure. But, you need answers. You want this to be a misunderstanding. You want Jason to be your partner– not– not what the evidence that's heavy in your hand says he is.

Statistics run through your mind. Stories of Red Hood saving working girls. Stories of him leaving bodies of dealers that sold to kids. Then, memories of your boyfriend. How he leans down to kiss your forehead. How runs his hand up and down your arm while you watch movies together. If there was a sign. If you were too blind and in love to realize.

He turns to look at you when you stalk in. You throw the helmet at him. The helmet you'd recognize anywhere, even if you've never gotten close enough to touch it before. He catches it with the grace of a predator. "The hell is this, Jason?"

"It's a helmet." He says evenly, turning off the stove and placing the helmet down on the counter.

"No, duh, it's a helmet, Jason. Don't patronize me. Is it yours?" You nearly hiss, hands curling in anger and frustration and heart break you're not ready to admit you're feeling.

He studies you, eyes dark and calculating. It makes you bite the inside of you cheek. His eyes never looked at you like that before. "It is."

You laugh out of disbelief, stepping back. "So you've been using me? Is that what all this was? Just a way to get information about the GCPD and what we had on you?"

"What? No." He says your name a little pleading, "it's not like that. Not anymore."

"But it was." You bite out, cursing yourself for the sting of tears in your eyes.

He steps closer, you step back, trying to keep your hands from shaking. He whispers your name, and you think you see hurt flash in his eyes before it disappears. His voice goes steady, even. "It was. But I haven't tried to get anything like that since–"

"Since when, Jason?" You cut off, anger and hurt clear in your voice, in your face. "Was it before we raided the warehouse at the docks? Is my computer bugged? Did you hack my phone?"

He winces. You don't need to be a detective to know he has. "I haven't used them since we started getting serious."

"And when was that, Jason?" You ask, voice breaking at his name. "Because it's been serious this entire time for me."

He doesn't answer at first, gaze leaving you to stare at his helmet. "Since I– I saw you save that kid. Instead of going after that shooter. When I realized you weren't just another one of the corrupted cops. That you care about this city. And the people. I realized I couldn't keep doing that to you."

You go quiet. What can you say to that? "Were you ever going to tell me?" You settle on.

"I don't know." He shrugs helplessly, eyes leaving the helmet to meet your teary gaze. "I didn't know how. I don't– think I wanted you to know. " He stutters over his last sentence, and then says your name, pleading coming back to his tone. "I can't lose you over this."

"You never had me!" Your voice raises, a shout in anger before you can bury it down. You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively and lowering your voice. "You never had me if everything this was was built on a lie."

"It's not a lie." He says firmly, snapping to attention and stepping towards you. He gestures between the two of you, says your name like he demands your attention. "This is not a lie."

"It is, Jason! You're only here to gain something from me! From my job!" You push back, throat tight and head spinning. Maybe you shouldn't be yelling at Gothams most dangerous and deadliest crime boss, but your heart is too broken for your head to think straight.

"No, pretty." You think he's pleading. You think his mouth might even be trembling as he speaks, but you can't make it out through the tears in your eyes. "No. It was like that at first. I know. I know that hurts you, but, it's not like that now. It's nowhere near that now."

"I don't care." You choke out.

"You don't mean that." Jason protests, but he doesn't sound certain.

"I don't want to see you anymore." You say the words before you're even sure you want that.

His face drops. "You don't mean that either."

"I do." It tastes like a lie. It sounds like the truth. You're turning and leaving before he can speak again, before you can unpack what you really want, locking yourself in the bathroom.

You fall asleep to the sound of your own tears, curled on the cold tile floor. You wake to silence. His helmet is gone from your counter when you enter the kitchen.

Your favorite dinner is wrapped in plastic when you open the fridge.

It makes the truth of it all worse. Gotham really is cursed.

Part Two

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Re-reading one of my kinkuary prompts over on AO3 today and felt like posting this sexy, sweet little scene for your Saturday morning steamy read.

The Dark Knight, Jim Gordon x OC

Takes place between movies 2 & 3 (two years after Barbara has left)

18+, Warnings: PIV sex, cockwarming

Jim removed his coat and hung it on the rack just inside the door. The garment was heavy, damp, and cold. Just touching the wool made his frost-bitten hands hurt even worse. Claire's apartment (well, their apartment) was incredibly warm, even if currently dark and empty. They had a small electric fireplace in the bedroom; Jim hoped Claire had been running it before she went to sleep. Tonight's stakeout and eventual takedown had been accompanied by sub-zero wind chills. He'd given the small team that had joined him in the field the next day off to warm up and recover. Maybe he'd extend the same graciousness to himself.

The bedroom was indeed toasty when Jim arrived, but he switched the fireplace on again, just to thaw his frozen skin a bit before hopping in the shower. He knew the water would sting if he jumped in without some dry heat first. In the dim glow of the fire, Jim saw his goddess of a wife asleep in a lacy ivory negligée, covered with silk sheets and a blanket of silver faux fur. She slept so peacefully that he felt guilty for even considering disturbing her. He couldn't think of a better way to generate heat than creating some friction against her body. His cock was essentially inside out, however, and had been for hours.

The stream of steamy water felt like a gift from the gods after the kind of night the commissioner had suffered. Claire had told him a dozen times that the commissioner was supposed to commission; he'd earned the right over his decades on the force to sit some out here and there. But Gordon was addicted to the chase, the thrill, the victory. And his body suffered for it.

Ivory soap. Gentleman cologne— the 70s classic, which he'd worn since his eighteenth birthday. A quick comb of his hair, then the donning of flannel pajamas. He left his glasses folded neatly under the mirror. His skin felt tight and freshly washed... the dirt and grime of Gotham's underbelly once again whisked away.

Jim gently lifted the covers and slid behind his wife, his splayed hand bringing her pelvis back toward his. One of her legs instinctually moved atop his, and her bare foot ran along the flannel leg of his pajamas lovingly. Her skin was flushed with the warmth from the fireplace and covers, and Jim buried his nose in her blanket of soft curls, smelling the herbal cocktail she'd washed it with earlier. A gentle hand reached back to caress his stubble, her thumb running over his bristles.

"Welcome home, commissioner," Claire murmured. "I missed you."

Jim's lips found the creamy skin of her shoulder, his tongue flicking along her collarbone. The sinful curve of her behind arched back against his pajama bottoms, and his body-- taxed though it was-- responded in turn.

"Can I put it in?" he asked in her ear.

"Mmm-hmm," she replied warmly, and Jim slid the smooth silk up to reveal her bare cunt beneath. Reaching into his fly, Jim gave a few quick jerks to his length before lifting her leg a bit more, his tip making contact with her wet heat. Just a few quick strokes to her clit made her ready for him, and he buried himself in her with one blissful surge forward.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned, and Jim slid a hand under the ivory silk to treasure her soft breast in a tight grip. Her hips began bucking almost imperceptibly, but Jim stopped them abruptly.

"Nope. Hold still, little girl."

"Oh, you're in charge, Daddy?" she teased.

"In a way," Jim replied. "More like neither one of us is. I want to hold you, just like this."

"Mmm... warming your cock?" Her fingers came back to softly stroke his hair.

"Of course. Gotta get warm somehow. It's negative three degrees outside."

"And you were out there being a hero," she praised him, giving a small little wiggle just to make sure he was buried to the hilt.

Jim let out a moan. She was so tight at this angle, his cock curved upward, snug between her thighs. Every few seconds he felt the slightest micro tremor, and his cock would twitch in turn. It was nice... relaxing, really... just holding still and seeing what their bodies would do on their own. Jim ran a hand tenderly over her bare arm. Her skin was silkier than the silvery sheets that covered their connected bodies. He caught the slightest smell of perfume on the fibers of her negligée— citrus, jasmine, ginger, and sandalwood. Not that Jim would have known fragrance notes, but he'd been so obsessed with her after that first night at her place two years ago that he'd Googled the bottle sitting on her counter.

"I love you," he intoned deeply in her ear.

Claire sighed contentedly, and her walls gave his stationary cock a squeeze. She arched even further back into his chest, and Jim had never felt so warm, in spite of the cold.

"I love you too, Jim."

____________

Read the full one-shot collection at the link below! I greatly appreciate your kudos and comments if you enjoy or have feedback.

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Five

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Starting to realize I need to slow down, things are really getting complicated and I want everything to be included. Including proper warnings and important plot details and to really keep things more polished.

A/N: Also, going through the doubts on my writing, but we is gonna persevere, y’all. I’m going to take some time to focus on Obsessions.

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior, Kidnapping, Vomiting, Slight Stalking

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

After running Date’s life, Tim starts to investigate Reader full throttle. Before it was just something he did to relax between cases when he couldn’t shut off his brain. Now, he didn’t want to miss anything. Not a single detail. He’d also been having trouble digging up an information on reader’s small town.

Apparently, they weren’t up to date on their technology. Can’t hack computers for information if the computers don’t exist. Still, it was nice to find out about Reader’s childhood. (Making notes for Bruce to add certain flora and fauna to the Manor’s garden and looking up any restaurants in Gotham that he could possibly take Reader too. You know, as friends.) But, Tim was nothing if not stubborn.

Reader, having a bit of whiplash from Dick’s comforting and sudden departure starts trying to fill their time by hanging out with Cassandra, Duke, and/or Stephanie.

They also call back home informing Nana about the Date incident. Surprisingly enough, Nana was sympathetic. (Though Reader couldn’t help thinking she was using that condescending small town sarcasm. Maybe they’d just been in Gotham for too long?) Regardless, Nana lends a comforting ear and even talks about BFF and their older brother, Childhood Crush, to Reader in an attempt to distract them. Telling them what the two have been up to. (How much they miss you. They can’t wait for you to come home visit.)

Reader, however, is a tad more concerned with Younger Brother. Making sure to ask how he is fairing and if he could come visit them in Gotham for a bit. Just to give Nana and Grand Daddy a much needed break since their age is catching up with them. (Aren’t you so sweet? Caring so much for your real family.)

But, Nana brushes reader off. No need, he’s been hanging out with Childhood Crush and BFF. They’ve really taken him under their wing. (They’d make great a great partners. Don’t you think, dear?) It does arouse Reader’s suspicions, but when they call their Younger Brother, he sounds… fine… Said he was having more fun with BFF than Childhood Crush, but that’s a given. (BFF knows Reader best, and won’t let anything happen to him or Reader.) They’re probably overthinking things about things back home. (That pang of homesickness just doesn’t seem to go away.)

At school, however, things were changing.

Damian wasn’t lying to himself about scaring off Reader’s friends. A few started to avoid Reader suddenly. But, a few, mostly the wealthier ones, stayed close. Not at all bothered by Damian’s sudden campaign. Some even introducing Reader to their closer circles.

Reader’s happy to have more friends, but the loss of Date and Reader’s more down to earth friends weighed on them. Reader’s new group felt like an isolated bubble cage that encloses tightly around them (and wouldn’t let them go.)

Bruce has been pretty strict about who Reader spends time with since the gala. But, Reader, going stir crazy when Cass, Steph, and Duke, respectively, are to busy (have patrol and missions), decides to ask Barbara if they can hang out with her. (A stranger is better than nothing.)

Tim’s seems to be too busy with whatever he’s doing. (He’s technically spending time on Reader, rather than with Reader.) Reader loves Alfred, but they’re always helping him cook. Dick’s gone off on some errand in Buldhaven or Gotham (Reader can’t remember, they’re a bit annoyed by how finicky he can be with giving Reader attention.). Jason might actually choke reader if they suggest hanging out. And, Reader is still pissed at Damian for being a rude little shit (Plus, they suspect he has something to do with their friends leaving them. They just can’t prove it.)

Barbara agrees to bring Reader to work with her at the Gotham City Library. Fully expecting Reader to mostly stay to themselves or possibly sneak off. (As members of the family are prone to do.) She is pleasantly surprised that Reader actually tends to stay by her side. Of course, Reader goes and gets a few books to curl up with. But, they quietly chat with Barbara, occasionally assisting with task, and mostly just enjoy silent companionship.

Reader doesn’t expect Barbara to entertain them, they can entertain themselves. They just don’t want to be alone at the moment. (Reader hates being alone when they’re sad. Hate. Hate. Hates it.) Barbara finds the silent and soft companionship to be a balm for the soul, so to speak. There’s no pressure. No duty. Just companionship. (It’s eases her mind how Reader is willing to stay safe. They’re not being dramatic or doing something foolish. I can get used to this.)

After the day is over, Barbara reports how Reader behaved back to Bruce. (Didn’t wander, stayed close by, wasn’t rude or sarcastic. That Gala had to have been a fluke. It has to be those horrible friends of Reader’s corrupting them.) If anything, it builds a level of trust with Bruce that Reader can be cautious and they won’t have to worry about them leaving. (Running away. Ha!)

Bruce decides Reader deserves a little more trust. (He wants to spoil his child.) Giving them more leeway to spend time in Gotham. But, only with members of the family. Which would be fine, if they were available. There’s, unfortunately, been an Arkham Breakout.

The entire family is on high alert for the next few days, especially since Joker escaped this time. (Hell, no. The family isn’t risking it. They won’t allow it. If Joker does something to Reader he’s dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Batman won’t stop anyone for killing him this time if he dares.) The family prioritize his capture, even recruiting the Gotham Sirens and the Superfamily to get the job done. It’s probably the fastest Joker’s ever been caught. (Joker is definitely pissed over the matter. And, will be making it everyone’s problem next time he gets out. What are you protecting Batsy? What are you trying to hide from me? Are we not friends?

Reader gets a brief introduction to Clark Kent during this ordeal. Before, Reader had only seen Conner and Jon around the manor hanging out with Damian and Tim respectively. (Conner would always try to flirt, which annoyed Reader. And, Jon was avoid on principle of being near Damian. Though, Reader was nice if they caught him alone in the manor. Which was growing more frequent recently.)

Clark is charmed, surprised by the Reader having grown up in a Smalltown. For Reader, it’s nice to meet someone who understands the longing for simplicity. Though Clark personally felt like he had something bigger to achieve outside of his town. Still they appreciate each other’s mindset. (Clark also wouldn’t mind inviting Reader out to the Kent farm. It would be fun to annoy Bruce. Plus, Reader is clearly struggling in Gotham. He’s not wrong.)

With Joker locked up, the family relaxes… Somewhat. They still have the rest of the rouge gallery to catch and have to work overtime to do it. Hardly any of them are seen outside the Batcave, which Reader is eighty-four percent certain is in the library.

Reader spends a lot of time pacing the halls. Looking at the paintings and furniture. It’s lonely. It’s like living in a house that’s haunted by ghost you’re supposed to know, but don’t. (If I have to live in a house haunted by ghost, I’d rather be haunted by the ones that loved me. I wanna go home. I want Momma and Daddy. I hate being alone. I hate it here.)

Stephanie, however, having made plans with Reader, finally gets a chance to take them out into Gotham. It takes a nearly a week, but they do manage to get out into the city together. Stephanie showing Reader all her favorite sights, pointing out landmarks and fun things. It’s possibly the funnest day Reader’s had since coming to Gotham. Arcades, Ice Skating, food trucks, street performers, it’s all new and exciting.

Nothing good last in Reader’s life it seems.

In broad daylight, Reader is forcefully grabbed and thrown into the back of a truck.

There’s a massive down side to being Bruce Wayne’s child. You easily get taken hostage and held for ransom.

Stephanie is helpless. She can only watch it happen too far away to make it to Reader in time. The horror and fear on Reader’s face made her stomach turn violently.

She immediately called Barbara to start tracking the vehicle and the thugs, sending an alert out to the entire family.

Once done she couldn’t stop herself from letting the disgust and shame bubble from her gut out on to the pavement. Just the thought of Reader being hurt making her physically ill. (Give them back. How dare they take what’s mine? It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left them alone. They’re helpless without me.)

[yooflm]

a business proposal — smau

PAIRING ▸ yoo jimin x fem!reader (ft. some members of aespa, le sserafim, ive, enha, riize)

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, slowburn (eh..), social media au, romance, strangers to lovers, fake dating, e2l???, non-idol au, college au

SUMMARY ▸ after begging on ends for what seemed like weeks, you finally accept your best friends request to take her place for her upcoming blind date. the pro? you get a date with a hot CEO. the con? the CEO seems to be none other than your boss at your recently hired job!

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, kys/kms jokes, mentions of alcohol, sexual jokes, identity theft (joke), ignore the timestamps (will be adding more in the future)

STATUS ▸ ongoing (120523)

SCHEDULE UPDATE ▸ every fri's-sat's (or whenever i'm free)

TAGLIST closed. [ @myouiiiiiiii @yoontoonwhs @hwm1hyun @captivq @rinapomu @jisooftme @thefckghost @perfectsunlight @r4cjh @mineige @vlance @multiliker @pandafuriosa60 @miyawwn @hibernatinghamster @lilacura @haerinkisser @ellivadfr @chweverni @aeriniee @zzzseung-reads ]

author's note: okay so.. after trying to figure a great time to make another comeback w/ another smau, i have finally done it. blue orangeade felt so off so i discontinued it sorry 💔 this one.. i'll say will be counting as an early christmas gift and um, i'll fs be actively updating! might make a taglist and have it be 20 max..

MISSED TEXT MESSAGES

teaser

profile 1 (powerpuff girls 🍃🍃) | profile 2 (gordan rams me)

1 ) crazy bitch

2 ) ms. moving on

3 ) deal accepted.

4 ) broke college students (not classist)

5 ) the blind date

6 ) awkward...

7 ) bitch?? samantha and rachel???

more to come...

© yooflm 2023 - don't copy, translate, or plagiarize my work on other platforms!

[cablecar-s]

to love and self loathe

Note :

I also have an AO3 if you guys wanted to check it out 👉👈. It's just tlsl again (it's like two chapters ahead but I plan to post the rest of the chapters here too, just thought I would share it somewhere else :]).

Reblogs and likes help a lot as well! Enjoy reading!

part 1

And Make It Double

Jason wasn't fond of going to the Batcave often. Hell he didn't like going to Wayne Manor at all. It only meant that he had to see the others. Even though he was able to reconcile with everyone, it didn't mean that it wasn't still awkward to interact with them all. 

But whatever it was that he found in that alleyway couldn't be ignored. So, instead of heading to the batcave where he has to face everyone, he instead links his comms with Barbara.

"You there Oracle?" His voice, distorted from the voice modulator installed in his helmet called out.

"Oracle here, need something Red Hood?" Her voice called back. 

A hint of a smile appeared on his lips, a bit of nostalgia and reminiscence washing over him for a moment.

"I have a bit of a problem here." Jason looked over at the knocked out men, strung together with the mysterious webs.

"Do you need backup?" She questioned.

He shook his head, though she couldn't see it. "No, just a concern if anything. Found a few guys strung together what seemed to be.. Spider webs? I don't fuckin' know." 

It went quiet for a moment, Jason looking around, making sure no one was going to jump him. 

"Found something." She hummed, earning Jason's attention. "Couldn't find anything spider related in Gotham, but there's a vigilante in New York that goes by Spider-Woman, could be that."

The second Robin's brows furrowed. "The hell is she doing in Gotham?" 

"No clue, but reading through the latest news it says that she's been gone for a few months already, after defeating some guy named Green Goblin." Her eyes quickly skimmed through the article.

"Is she trouble?" He questions, his attention being pulled towards one of the men who were beginning to wake up.

"The Daily Bugle says she is.." She trailed. "Though from other sources people are calling her a hero. Lot of mixed opinions about her from New Yorkers. She's done nothing bad though." 

Jason only hummed, taking his gun out before hitting the waking criminal in the back of his head with the butt of his gun, knocking the guy out once more.

"No crimes or anything? What about suspicious movements before her disappearance?" He asked further.

Barbara let out a small hum. "Nope. She had been terrorizing a few criminals who all had similar characteristics for some time, but that was in the beginning of her first appearance. And after she defeated the Green Goblin she disappeared after that night."

"Revenge." Jason thought out loud to himself, that was the only conclusion he could come to. "Think she came to Gotham to see if she could find the guy here?" 

"Doubt it. It's been a few years already, I'm sure she's over it by now."

Jason also doubted that she was over it, he would know; he was dead set on revenge for seven years. A grimace appeared on his face, seeming to stare into nothingness, remembering how he was before he was barely able to reconcile with Bruce and the others.

"You still there Red Hood?" Barbara called out, breaking him out of his small trance.

"Uh, yeah, sorry, just thinking." He muttered. "Call GCPD over to pick these guys up. They're in one of the alleys on 41st street."

"On it." 

Taking out his grappling hook, Jason flew off into the night, still linked with Barbara. 

"What do you want to do with Spider-Woman?"

"Lets keep an eye out for her, we still don't know her motives for coming to Gotham." Jason swung from building to building, beginning to feel water droplets fall on his body, the rain of Gotham finally coming for the night.

"Alright, I'll notify the others about her now."

"Sounds good, thanks Oracle." He perched himself on one of the gargoyles that were built on one of the many buildings of Gotham, about to hang up til—

"Hey Jace." Barbara called out softly.

Oh god. Jason already knew what Barbara was going to ask him, it made his throat close up a bit, his heart rate beginning to pick up.

"Ye-ah?" 

Of course his voice had to fucking crack.

"Will you be coming to the mansion to celebrate Damian's birthday next week?"

Jason stayed silent for a moment. Of course he was going to go, he had already bought the demon brat's present a few days ago, it was just a matter of gaining the confidence to step foot in Wayne Manor.

"Still there Jason?" She called out. 

Crap he took too long. 

"Oh, yeah. Yeah I'll– I'll be coming." He cleared his throat, his eyes scanning into the streets of Crime Alley. 

"Okay, just double checking." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Everyone'll be excited to see you, don't sweat it." She assured him. "Need anything else before I go back to the others?" 

He swallowed hard, trying to retain whatever cool he had left. "No, I'm fine."

"Alright, Oracle out." 

Her voice crackled before leaving the line, which left Jason alone with his thoughts.

God he was so not ready for next week

---

The next night, Jason had kept a sharp eye out for this Spider-Woman Barbara had told him about. He'd done a bit of digging himself. He watched a few videos that a few civilians had taken of her. He studied her fighting style, what she looked like. 

Of course, he tried to find out who this Spider-Woman was in the first place, but it seemed no one had any clues as to who she was. 

It's fine though. It's not like Jason was actively searching as to who she was, he just needed to make sure she stayed out of his way, out of Gotham's business.

Swinging from building to building once more, Jason kept his eyes on the alleys and small streets before deciding to land on the roof of a building. His boots crunched under the gravel when landing, a more softer crunch sounding behind him.

"Todd." The young voice called out.

A voice he knew all too well.

"Demon bird." Jason greeted. 

"I am told that you will be making it to the gathering." Damian stood next to his older brother, looking down at the city with him.

"If you mean your birthday party then yeah." The second Robin couldn't help but roll his eyes a bit. "Just not the big one B will be holding. Y'know, still dead and stuff." 

The youngest Robin could only suck his teeth. "Not like you were needed there anyways." He muttered.

Jason glanced over at the pre-teen, a small smile on his lips as he brought his hand up to ruffle his hair. He could spot his tough guy act from miles away, he and Damian were two sides of the same coin after all. 

"Sorry, someone's gotta keep Gotham safe while all the bats and birds are out partying for the night." He chuckled.

Damian only swatted at Jason's hand, grumbling to himself. 

"I do not care if you come or not." He muttered.

Jason couldn't help but smile slightly at this, pulling his hand back.

"Whatever you say."

Damian opened his mouth, ready to make a retort, but he only sucked his teeth once more, his hand going up to his ear.

"Robin present."

There was a brief silence, the young Robin seeming to be listening to what was being said to him. "Understood." He muttered.

"I am needed at a warehouse." He looked up at his older brother who only nodded, seeming looking down at the streets.

"Alright. See you later." Jason's eyes were glued on a woman who seemed to be in a hurry, a few plastic bags hanging from her arms. From afar, he saw a few men stalking her a few feet away.

He began to make his way down to her, standing behind her in the shadows. She didn't seem to have noticed him just yet, seeming distracted with trying to take a picture of the Robin flying above her.

Though as she takes a step back and bumps into his chest, she slowly turned around, taking notice of the vigilante that towered over her.

Jason squinted his eyes behind his helmet as her phone let out a soft click and the flash had gone off.

His helmet scanned her body, a small box popping at the top right, showing him that her heart rate had slightly quickened, not surprising.

"You do know you make a pretty easy target with all those bags you're holding." He spoke, his voice distorted as usual.

"Good thing I was making my way home then." She chuckled nervously. 

She had stared at where his eyes were supposed to be, only to then look away, her heart rate rising even more.

"I'll go with you then, unless you want them to take you instead." He nodded his head behind her, making her turn her head and see the men.

Jason took a step into the dim street lighting and stared straight at them, making the men quickly scatter, not wanting to be involved with the infamous Red Hood.

"Oh uh, no that won't be necessary." She let out another nervous laugh. "My apartment isn't that far from here and uh..." She glanced up at the Red Hood before quickly looking away, intimidated by his large build and towering body.

It was quiet, Jason staring her down. He couldn't lie she was acting a bit suspicious, though then again it could be her being frightened since it was Red Hood who was standing in front of her.

"You're not serious are you?" He finally spoke out. "Gotham's filled with criminals, and no offense, I'm sure you're capable of defending yourself, but you're a woman. You're better off with me walking you home." He crossed his arms, shifting his weight onto one leg.

He was right. Although she could handle a few thugs, she didn't bring her web shooters with her this time. If any of them decided to pull a gun on her, it was most likely over.

The secret vigilante stayed quiet, biting the inside of her cheek, trying to think of something else to say, just so she didn't have to interact anymore with the more scarier of vigilantes she's looked up. 

"Uh well.." She cleared her throat, looking up at him, trying her best to calm her racing heart, her senses heightening from her anxiety. 

She thought hard, looking at the man who stared at her, waiting for a reply from her. Her brain did it's hardest to rack something up, until she remembered all the news she's read about him.

Bingo.

"Wouldn't it be more dangerous if you were to walk with me?" She questioned, giving him an innocent smile.

He tilted his head a bit at this. "Is that so?"

The spider quickly nodded, her smile ever growing a tiny bit more larger at her quick thinking. "If you think about it, if people on the street were to see you walking me to my apartment wouldn't that technically endanger me even more? Since, y'know, you are the big bad Red Hood. I'm sure you have plenty of enemies that want your head."

Her hands moved around a bit as she talked, Jason only watching and listening to her ramble in slight amusement.

"And if they were to see you walking me home then they can only think that I'm some sort of weakness for you, which, I'm really not but hey they don't know." She chuckled, looking up at him.

Her long pause made the air almost seem a bit awkward for her, making her shift a bit. Letting out another laugh, she cleared her throat once more, straightening her posture a bit.

"So.. Thank you, truly. But I think I'll be just fine going home without an escort." She smiled, trying not to squirm under his gaze.

"Alright." He hummed, setting his hands on his waist. 

She blinked, looking a bit baffled. "Really?" She sputtered, before quickly changing her expression, the tone of her voice changing as well. "I mean– Of course! It's only right that you—"

"I'll just watch you from the rooftops instead."

"I'm sorry?"

A distorted huff of amusement filled her ears as the two vigilantes stared at each other. 

"You're right that me walking you home would only but yourself in more danger, but leaving you to go home by yourself also puts you at risk still, so," Jason grabbed his grapple from his utility belt. 

"I'll escort you from afar." 

Jason's amusement only rose as he watched the woman open and close her mouth, trying to form words or another excuse as to why he shouldn't do that.

Seeing as how she wasn't able to come up with anything else, a low and short chuckle left his mouth.

"Well lets get going then. The faster you start walking the faster you'll be out of danger." He pointed his grapple at a building, his finger beginning to press the trigger.

"You really don't—" But he was already flying into the air and back into the shadows. 

She could only watch in disbelief, staring in the direction that he had flown off to. If she squinted hard enough, she could somewhat see his silhouette perched on a rooftop. 

She strained to see him wave a hand at her, most likely motioning her to get back to her apartment. Letting out a small huff of irritation, she began to walk into the direction of her apartment, muttering under her breath.

It was total silence while walking back to her apartment. Although she would spot a few thugs eyeing her from alleys, once they heard the sound of a grapple and a shadow passing over them, they quickly minded their business, as if she wasn't there.

The woman was thankful to say the least, especially since she was able to get herself out of a situation that may have ended up in her having a brawl with the vigilante. Just looking at him made her entire body ache. 

Even if that radioactive spider had increased all her senses and strength, she was sure that man could pummel her into the ground without having to do much.

Continuing to walk through the dimly lit streets, she soon made it to her apartment building, relief flooding in her body that she was finally home. Before entering the building, she looked over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the shadows, trying to see if she could spot the Red Hood.

Surprisingly, for a big guy who had a helmet that was completely red, he was good at hiding in the darkness. 

Giving up in her search in finding him, she made her way inside, the warm air from the heater engulfing her body once entering. 

Off in the distance, Jason watched as the woman made her way inside. With crossed arms, he watched all of the windows of the building, waiting patiently until he noticed one of them had lit up.

Letting out a short hum, he jumped off the roof, grappling to the next one and so forth, continuing his night patrol.

---

Jason quickly put his jacket on, not caring if his hair was still a bit wet. Grabbing his keys he had tossed onto the coffee table, he scooped his helmet into his arms before roughly shoving it onto his head. Slamming the door that led to the garage of his safe house, he pressed a simple button that made it creak and groan as it lifted itself off of the ground.

Getting on his bike, the two wheeler roared to life, the sounds echoing in the garage as he sped out, the doors slamming itself shut once Jason was out. Speeding through the streets, passing by cars at a speed too fast, Jason had hoped that he wouldn't be too late for the brat's formal birthday.

Jason wasn't fond of any of the parties that Bruce either attended or hosted. The room that it was being held in always reeked of tacky perfume and cologne, just like every person there trying to please Bruce.

A bunch of ass kissers that irritated Jason. He was sure Damian thought the same, so he thought making a small appearance would make it slightly better, even if it costed him drowning in old lady perfumes.

When he had made it to the Batcave and tried to sneak his way through the halls of the manor, he had a small run in with his favorite, and only, butler. After a small catch up, and a bit of coaxing from the butler, Jason ended up having to attend the party without his gun.

Taking a deep breath, Jason entered the ballroom having to squeeze his way through a few people in order to make himself comfortable in a corner.

With his back leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and scanned the room before it landed on Damian; his cheeks were currently being pinched and pulled at by a few elderly ladies. 

Jason couldn't help but slightly snort at the scene, amused at how deadly a glare Damian was giving them when they looked away from him.

"Jaybird!"

Jason's smile instantly disappeared at the resounding voice of his older brother. A bright smile on his face, he waved at the second Robin, having grabbed to champagne glasses on his way over to him.

People glanced at Dick, whispering to one another about the eldest, their eyes soon dragging over to Jason who shifted uncomfortably.

Just fucking great.

"I see you were able to make it." Dick grinned, lending out the other glass of alcohol to him. Jason only snatched it from him, letting out a small grumble while taking a small sip.

"And I'm starting to regret it." He grimaced.

The first Robin only chuckled at this, taking his own sip from his glass. "You see Damian yet?" He questioned, eyes staring out into the crowd to find the youngest.

"I was, but then I saw that he was a bit busy so I decided to leave him be." He hummed.

Once finding Damian, Dick couldn't help but snicker a bit now knowing what Jason meant. "He is the star of the show." He mused. "Hey, you don't think—"

BOOM!

"No one make any sudden moves! Or the brat gets it!" 

part 1

next chapter ->

[2knightt]

CANT HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER!!! i’m utterly obsessed with the curtis brothers.

idk if u do this, but if u can, the curtis brothers with a reader who’s super down bad for them? they make it so clear, too. constantly doing everything for them, making food, buying snacks, just utterly everything. compliments, holding their hand religiously … yk.

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ you know i’m a fool for you. ⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! you think the curtis brothers are the only men on the planet.

tags/warnings: swearing(on my end/once during dialogue.) reader being slightly overprotective or insane, mentions of reader getting hit on, mentions of reader leaving lip stick stains, me not knowing what to write for darry.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m using ny other accounts layout bc i can’t be bothered rn. also i’m here to feed y’all i’ve noticed the outsiders x reader tag is lowkey dry asl.

Ponyboy Curtis:

WOAH HE CAN’T HANDLE ALLAT😭

like actually. he is TWEAKING AT ALL TIMES! when you first like started complimenting him, showering him in kisses, giggling n’ shit—he thought it was a one time thing.

ponyboy just thought he’d have to thug that shit out once a week or something. he was, in-fact, pleasantly surprised when you continued to do it.

“you’re so-mwah-cute! i wish-mwah-i could-mwah-hold you forever!”

“y/n…😣”

he’s so flustered omfg like actually he’s beet red LMFAOOO. if you were to put your fingers to his forehead it’d be so hot. like ponyboy’s avoiding eye contact, his lips are tightened, etc.

if he were to stay the night at your place—you make him all types of food. like, food he’d never heard of. or food he’d dream about after eating bologna for a week,

“for me? …really?”

“mhm! c’mon, don’t let it get cold now.”

ponyboy is DIGGING RIGHT THE FUCK IN. okay he is SCARFING THAT DOWN. after he’d be a little embarrassed of how quickly he ate but like you just took it as a good thing.

thinks you’re the best cook ever tbh. gordan ramsey has nothing on you type levels.

going on a walk with him to go grocery shopping for the curtis house with your hands intertwined and letting ponyboy ramble about this annoying substitute he had!!! IT’S REAL!!! ALL OF IT!!!

“n’ then he tried to tell me my answer was wrong when i studied last night—I EVEN ASKED MY FRIENDS. so, i know it was right. i just think mr. johnson had a personal vendetta against me.”

“smh…i could do slash his tires if you’d like♡!”

“what”

“nothing.”

AWHHH PONYBOY FOLLOWING YOU AROUND THE STORE LIKE A LOST PUPPY BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO BUY LMFAO

he’d like holding your sleeve or the hem of your shirt as you walk around, looking more awkward above all else.

uwahh showering ponyboy in compliments late at night when it’s just the two of you, twirling his hair as you hold him closer!!!

“you’re hair is so pretty. it’s so soft…i dunno why you put grease in it. if i was you—i’d never let anyone touch it.”

“i don’t. i only let you.”

“…REALLY??🥰🥰😚😚”

ur friends are soooo sick of you talking about ponyboy LMFAOOOO like actually. every time you go, ‘omfg did i tell you guys, he-‘ they know to just let you mindlessly ramble.

“and then ponyboy read to me ‘til i fell asleep! he’s so sweet—i dunno how he’s real!”

“i dunno how you’re so whipped.”

“he must be the funniest motherfucker on the planet if y/n’s this obsessed.”

Sodapop Curtis

OHHH Y’ALL ARE AT A CONSTANT WAR TO SEE WHO’S GONNA BEAT THE OTHER AT BEING THE BETTER PARTNER LMFAOOO

HE’S usually the whipped one in the relationship…he felt both extremely lucky and threatened when you started attacking him with kisses…

“you’re so handsome. i’m just the luckiest person on earth—ain’t i?”

“…yeah…🤨”

“why’d you say it like that?😞”

“cause I’M the luckiest person on the earth…I’M supposed to be tellin’ you this…”

but as time goes on—he does take the loss and accepts you’re better at him. for now. it’s only a matter of seconds until sodapop thinks of something insane to show his love for you.

anyways! IMAGINE COOKING WITH HIM OHHHH NY GODDDDD /?:&$:&: he just mainly stands there and looks pretty as he asks what you’re doing but SHHH. HE’S MORAL SUPPORT.

“…what?”

“i’m chopping onions for the flavour, honey.”

“you don’t like onions, though?”

“i don’t like the crunch rather than the flavou—YOU REMEMBERED I DON’T LIKE ONIONS??☹️☹️”

“of course i would!”

gladly holds ur hand 24/7. i’m not kidding. you two are like super magnets. HEHEHE IMAGINE HIM DRIVING WITH ONE HAND ON THE WHEEL AND HIS OTHER HAND HOLDING YOURS!!/!2!

you do take him grocery shopping. only sometimes, though. he only buys junk food rather than actual food.

“can i get these? please?”

“you already have two bags of chips in the cart, soda.”

“okay..😣”

“SIGH…get them.”

“HURRAY!”

knows you can’t say no to him and that’s like the only time he uses it to his advantage.

soc’s do hit on you under the premise of ‘showing you how a real man is supposed to spoil a lady like you.’ HOWEVER, you look at them like they’re aliens.

“hey, baby. what’re you doin’ around here?”

“…EW.”

“???”

they’re shocked above all else as they see you turn away from them and quickly walk away without looking back. AND WOOO SODA IS SO PROUD.

Darry Curtis

the gang acts like you two are constantly fighting whenever you start to look at darry with that sparkle in your eyes.

“guys, PLEASE! YOU’RE BREAKING UP THE FAMILY! STOP ARGUING!”

“what the hell are you on about, soda?”

“you’re scaring pony!” “don’t bring me into this.”

“mind you’re own business, soda.”

AJDIEHJR DARRY HAVING A HAND AROUND YOUR WAIST AS YOU MUTTER SWEET NOTHINGS BETWEEN KISSINGS>>>

you two are a POWER COUPLE IN THE GROCERY STORE! EVEN IF YOU REFUSE TO LET HIM PAY AND HE GETS POUTTY! EVEN IF HE DOESN’T TAKE COMPLIMENTS WELL!

“y/n, please. these are for my house.”

“so?? my wallet was out first.”

“that doesn’t mean anything. baby, i’m telling you, i’m paying.”

“too late, i already handed the cashier the money.”

you cook and clean for the curtis’ to take something off of darry’s back out of the kindness in your heart and totally not because you want him to pay more attention to you!! NEVER!!

but you do enjoy the fact that darry has more time to sit down and pay attention to you! and darry really likes the extra time he has!!

“you didn’t have to.”

“yes i did! you’ve been so stressed out, it’s the least i could do for you.”

“you’re such a treat, y’know.”

“mh. only f’you.”

you FORCE him to hold your hand. sometimes he forgets that he’s supposed to hold your hand in public so do NOT BE AFRAID TO GRAB IT YOURSELF.

but once you do, darry is the last person to let go. maybe to wrap an arm around your hip—BUT THAT’S IT.

teehee leaving lipstick stains on his white t-shirt accidentally🫶🫶!! it’s all so real to me!! sure, darry’s a little annoyed but it’s okay! he can never be mad at you!

[citruswriter]

Mirror Mirror On The Wall

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Established relationship, chubby coded reader, self esteem issues, brief nippleplay, oral (f! recieving), fem terms, afab reader, overstimulation, hair pulling, squirting, creampie.

Creepypasta Kinktober Prompt: Mirror/Overstimulation

Pairing: Eyeless Jack x Fem Reader

The mirror was not your friend. Far from it in your opinion. The mirror pointed out things you didn't want to see. Stretchmarks and rolls in your skin, loose skin and jiggly thighs. You hated it. Hated the mirror. Hated your body.

But your lovely boyfriend loved it. Loved the divots in your skin that the stretchmarks left. Loved the rolls in your body in his hands. Loved your soft tummy. Loved your plush thighs. You tried your best to see yourself through his eyes, to love your body as he loved it. But it seemed like an impossible task most days.

It had been a long day and your were already snuggled in bed with your phone when your boyfriend came in with something. " What's that?" You question, rising so you were sitting up and looking at the large rectangle. "It's a mirror." Jack said simply, flipping it around to show off the full body mirror, propping it up against the wall.

"Oh! Um... why did you get it?" You ask tentatively. Jack takes off his mask, setting it to the side before kicking his shoes off and crawling onto the bed with you. "Thought it would be nice for some... fun." He says simply, giving a shrug before pressing a kiss to your neck.

"Yes it'll be fun to see all my imperfections." You say sarcastically, glaring at your reflection. Jack lets out a low growl, a demonic sound that never fails to make you shiver in delight down your spine and send heat pooling straight to your core.

"You have the body of a goddess, my darling, and I'll be damned if I let you talk down on yourself." He growled out before swiftly moving behind you. You squeak out as he nibbles on your neck, hands moving up your shirt. One hand grasped your soft tummy while the other gripped a breast, claws digging in slightly before moving to tweak a nipple, causing you to gasp out.

"My beautiful mate..." He purrs out and you shudder. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't even be able to focus on those silly insecurities." And with that you're flipped onto your back, clawed fingers pulling your sleep shorts and panties down and flinging them off to the side.

His inhuman tongue soon finds its way into your core and you gasp out as he starts to tongue fuck you, thumb finding your pearl and rubbing it harshly. You moan and keen out as he eats you out like your pussy is a five fucking star meal served by Gordan Ramsey himself. His tongue and thumb are working you so wonderfully and it doesn't take long for his skilled actions to make an orgasm start to crest in you. You try to babble out a warning to him but he can already tell your close by the way your walls start to tighten around his tongue. And then he's pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm hitting you like a tidal way as you moan out loudly, pleasure washing over your body.

You expect Jack to pull away, to give you a moment to climb down from your orgasm and recover, but you are given no such luxury. Instead he slings your plush thighs over his shoulders and grips them as he retracts his tongue from your core and instead works it over your clit. You let out a strangled moan as he continues, trying to get a proper gasp of air in your lungs but Jack pushes forward in trying to make you cum again, his tongue working over your clit in patterns that make you whine and arch until once again your orgasm is cresting. You arch you spine, whining out his name as you cum once again and Jack greedily laps at your juices before nipping at your thighs.

"Catch your breath, sweetheart. I'm not even close to being finished." Jack says with a low chuckle. He slips his shirt off and your hands quickly find his abdomen, your soft hands gliding over the hard planes of his torso. He's cold to the touch, but to him you feel warm. Feel like heaven.

His cold hands find their way under your shirt once more and you shudder as he works his way up and up and finally the article is discarded and tossed as well. "So fucking beautiful." He mutters, mouth descending to kiss your neck and breasts, nipping and leaving little marks that would fade within a day or two.

His hand dips to unbuckle his belt and he pulls his cock out, grinding his shaft along your poor abused clit and your hips jerk with overstimulation. "Jack... I'm sensitive." You say softly and he growls. "Good. Gonna fuck your pretty brains out." He purrs back, grinding harder and making you mewl out.

Suddenly your being manhandled, pulled and tugged until your in doggy. He's stripping the last of his clothes off as he presses a hand between your shoulder blades, making you arching your back as he grips our hair and has you look up and into the mirror. "And you're gonna watch me do it do." He purrs, the tip of his dick notching against your entrance before he snaps his hips forwards and fully buries himself in your heat.

You cry out and he wastes no time setting a ruthless pace in you. You're still sensitive from your other two orgasms and it doesn't take long for the feeling of overstimulation to hit you in waves. Your body is trembling, mind going fuzzy with how much pleasure is rippling through your body as he continues to piston his hips in and out of you, snarls and growls that didn't sound human in the slightest falling from his mouth as you moaned and keened underneath him. Your eyes observe the two of you in the mirror.

Jack's face was screwed up with pleasure and concertation as he fucks into you, his muscles rippling under his skin, he looked like a predator. You on the other hand looked completely different. Eyes glazed over, lips parted, chest heaving, hair messy in his hand. You looked so fucked out and you couldn't help but love how you looked like a mess for his cock.

Your eyelids flutter as you feel the familiar feeling of your orgasm. "Close." You whine out and Jack angles your hips, driving in harder as he drills into your g-spot. You moan loudly as he drives you closer and closer to your orgasm. "That's is babygirl. Cum on my cock." He breathes out, driving his hips again and sending you crashing into another orgasm. You curse in a high pitched tone as you cum on his thick cock, your orgasm hitting you more like a freight train this time.

But once again, you are offered little time to recover as Jack fucks you through your orgasm, ramming into you with abandon as he chases his own release. You practically sobbing with overstimulation at this point, body trembling as his hand yanks your hair to keep you looking in the mirror as he fucks you stupid. "One more time, babygirl. Just one more time." He said softly, his voice more breathy as he starts to reach his own end. His spare hand grips you plush side as he fucks into you harder and faster. Your arms collapse from under you but your eyes remain glued to the mirror as you cum once more. Your eyes roll back and your vision whites out as you scream out his name.

Your nerves feel like they're on fire and frazzled, as if you just snatched a star out of the nightsky and took a big bite out of it. As you come to once more, you're aware of many things. How warm your insides are with Jack's pulsing cock and load of cum in you, the droplets that roll down your thighs, the slickness of your cunt.

"Fuck that was amazing." You breathe out and Jack let out a rumbling laugh as he slowly pulled his cock out. "Well you squirted so I'd assume it was." He replied, tone tired but teasing none the less. You felt your cheeks heat up. "Fuck, I squirted?" You ask with a laugh and he only huffs a laugh in response.

He slowly gets up as you let your body collapse on the bed. Jack comes back moments later, running a warm washcloth over your body and cleaning you up before crawling into bed with you. You hum softly, tangling your limbs with his, fingernails tailing over his skin in soothing patterns.

"I love you, beautiful." He murmurs and you smile softly, peppering his face with soft kisses before he snuggles back into you once more, practically purring from your touch.

"I love you too, handsome."

Eyeless Jack, my love. 💞💞💞 I don't think ya'll understand how down bad I am for this man.

Taglist: @rainrot4me