#this is probably not the kind of thing you hadi n mind

[fiddleabout]

I don't know if you're up for it because I'm sure you're really busy and everything but now that season 3 of Supergirl has finished in such a weird way, some happy little drabble or something about Sam and Alex would do wonders for my mood!

hmmmm

Sam Arias has not had a good day.  It started with one of the other parents rear-ending her on her way out of the carpool line at Ruby’s school, leaving her bumper dented and scratched, and went downhill from there into a series of failed negotiations and furious conference calls, the enraged resignation of one of her tax directors, a missed lunch, and the last two hours on a video conference with Lena on her trip to woo investors in Singapore.  

“Sam.”  Lena pinches the bridge of her nose and breathes in heavily.  "Go home.  We can deal with this tomorrow.“

"There are just a few–”

“Go home,” Lena says again, sharply, pointedly.  "It’s, what, almost ten there?  You should have been home hours ago.“

"I texted the sitter,” Sam mumbles, not looking up from the messy collection of contract drafts on her desk.  

“Sam,” Lena sighs out.  "This doesn’t need to be fixed tonight.  Go home and get some sleep.  We’ll work on it tomorrow.“

Sam finally looks up, Lena’s face blurring on her screen briefly as her eyes unfocus with exhaustion.  "Okay.”

“Good.”  Lena tilts her head to one side, then another, neck cracking.  "I’m telling Jess to move the meeting with Stephen.  Sleep in.“

"I–”

“Do it,” Lena says firmly.  

“Fine,” Sam mutters.  "So demanding.“

"I’m not dignifying that with a response,” Lena says with a sniff.  "I’ll talk to you tomorrow.“

"Bye, jerk,” Sam says, even as she smiles, and her screen goes blank.  Her joints, Kryptonian resilience notwithstanding, protest when she stands slowly from her chair.  She hadn’t moved in the last three hours and her back was not forgiving her for it.  

The building is almost completely empty, save for the night guards and janitorial staff, and she shuffles slowly down to the lobby and calls an Uber.  Ruby will have to take the bus tomorrow, because Sam is five minutes away from falling asleep at the wheel.

Her shoes drag on the concrete on her way up the sidewalk, shoulders slumping with exhaustion, and the house feels far enough away that she contemplates pulling the inhibitors off of her wrists, discarding the kryptonite safety net weighting her powers down.  

Instead, she shuffles up the front steps and swallows a yawn as she unlocks the door, apology already forming in her throat for Mrs. Queller and her formidable glare.  

Mrs. Queller isn’t there in her usual seat on the couch with her knitting and audiobook, her purse conspicuously absent from the table in the hallway, replaced with a leather jacket tossed on the table and Alex on the couch with a computer in her lap.

“Hey.”  Alex cranes her head around and smiles at her, voice soft in the half-lit downstairs.  "Shh, Ruby’s already asleep.“

"Alex,” Sam says dumbly, blinking at her, hand with her keys still hovering in the air.  "What are you–“

"Ruby asked for help studying for her chem exam.”  Alex shuts her laptop and settles it on the coffee table, pushing up to her feet and shuffling over to Sam with her hands in her pockets, socks sliding on the hardwood.  She pulls up short just shy of Sam, head tilting to one side and shoulders lifting in a shrug.  "And when I got here Mrs. Queller said you had to work late, so I said I could stay.“

"How long have you been here?”

“Sevenish?” Alex says with a shrug.  She reaches out and pulls the keys from Sam’s hand, dropping them blindly into the bowl on the table, and her hands curl around Sam’s wrists gently.  "Everything okay at work?“

"Yeah,” Sam mumbles, blinking slowly and shaking her head.  "Just a long day.“"Did you get dinner?”

“What?”

“Food.”  One side of Alex’s mouth lifts up.  "You’re completely fried, aren’t you?“

"Mhm,” Sam says through a yawn.  "Hey.“  She rolls her head on her neck and then her shoulders, the movement pulling Alex closer so she can kiss her cheek.

"Hey back.”  Alex presses a kiss of her own to the corner of Sam’s mouth, pushed up on her toes, and gives up her hold on Sam’s wrists to work her coat and blazer off her shoulders.  "There are leftovers in the kitchen if you’re hungry.“

Sam’s stomach growls, right on cue, and she drops her forehead down onto Alex’s shoulder with a groan.  "So hungry.”

Alex’s finger hooks into the edge of one of Sams’ pockets and she pulls gently, tugging her towards the kitchen.  She settles Sam onto one of the barstools with a firm look and sets to retrieving Tupperware from the fridge.

“Did you cook?" 

"Just pasta,” Alex says from her spot by the microwave.  She covers the fettuccine with a paper towel and sets the microwave going, spinning smoothly on one sock to the cabinets on the other side of the fridge and pulling down a wine glass.  

Sam drops her temple against her hand, leaning tiredly against the counter and watching as Alex moves around her kitchen easily, heating up the leftover dinner she’d made Ruby, sliding a bottle of wine out of the rack and pouring her a glass.  Her eyes droop halfway to closed before she’s even had her first sip of wine, a sleepy smile stretching across her face as the microwave beeps and Alex pulls the food out with a flourish.

“What?” Alex pauses, halfway across the kitchen, frozen in place with a plate of plasta in her hands.  

“What?” Sam blinks and shakes her head, clears her throat, takes a heavy swallow of her wine.

“You were looking at me weirdly.”  Alex takes the last few steps over to the counter and slide the plate over to Sam, blindly fishing out a fork and knife and offering them to her. 

“Was I?”  Sam twirls her fork into the pasta and takes an overly ambitious bite.  She points down at it with her free hand and flashes a thumbs up, focusing on her food instead of the way she knows her cheeks are flushing under Alex’s scrutiny.

“You were.”  Alex leans her elbows onto the counter and props her chin in her hand, eyes narrowing.  "Do you secretly hate fettuccini?“

"I love fettuccine,” Sam says with a scoff, taking another overlarge and defiant bite.  "See?“

"Uh huh,” Alex says drily.  "You know I won’t be offended if you don’t like it, right?“

"Believe me when I say,” Sam says, pausing to take another sip of wine.  "That this is the best fettuccine I’ve ever had.“  She takes another long sip of her wine, draining the last of it, and drops her head back with a sigh and a groan.  "Thank you.”

“It’s not exactly gourmet,” Alex says, reclaiming the wine glass and refilling it, taking a moment to steal a sip.  

“That’s not exactly not the point,” Sam parrots back at her, propping her chin in her hand again.

“Then what is?”  Alex drops down to mirror Sam’s posture, one eyebrow lifting.  “Do you know how many times I’ve come home at 11:30 to something besides leftover takeout and a babysitter?”

“Oh,” Alex says softly, shoulders dropping and mouth turning down minutely, something distinct and sad stretching across her eyes.  It’s not like when they were struggling against Reign, when Sam’s life was wheedling away, when Alex had been fighting for Sam, for Ruby, for all of them all determination and stubbornness with a tight jaw and a tighter fist; it’s not like when Sam had woken up weeks later, broken but free from Reign, or when she was learning to use her powers, waiting to go home, finding her way back into a world and a life that had moved on without her.  It’s something new, something pained and quiet that passes over her since they started dating nearly a year earlier, when conversation saunters towards the details of the shelters Sam lived in at sixteen, the three weeks in their first year in National City when they slept in Sam’s car before they could find an apartment, the fact that Sam’s spent every night since Ruby was born with no one to come home to.

“Don’t make the sad eyes,” Sam mumbles around another mouthful of pasta.  "Seriously.“  She polishes off the last of the fettuccine and drops her fork with a clatter.  

"I don’t make sad eyes,” Alex says, wrinkling her nose.

“You really do,” Sam throws back.  She leans forward and grabs for Alex’s wrist, tugging gently until she has a hand to hold onto, fingers winding through Alex’s comfortably.  "It’s nice, having someone to come home to.“  

Alex’s cheek flush and she clears her throat, ducking her head down even as her grip on Sam’s hand tightens.  Her thumb works its way underneath the band of the inhibitor, moving slow and easy over the familiar lines of Sam’s wrist.  She doesn’t say anything for long seconds, and Sam’s eyes start to slip shut again under the rhythmic movement of Alex’s thumb on her skin until Alex pulls away with a poorly-disguised sniff and sets to loading Sam’s plate into the dishwasher. 

Another yawn pulls its way out of Sam’s throat, and she drops her head down onto her arms, already halfway to sleep.  A whine escapes when she feels rather than sees Alex pulling her heels off and pulling her off of the stool.

"Come on, babe, work with me,” Alex grunts out when Sam sags onto her shoulder.  "Honestly, what’s the point of alien superpowers if you don’t use them.“

"Rude,” Sam mumbles around another yawn, even as she takes her shoes out of Alex’s hand and grabs Alex by the waist, yanking her up over her shoulder swiftly.  Alex lets out a strangled yell, slapping her hand over her mouth to cut it off and keep from waking Ruby, and slaps at Sam’s back uselessly.  

“You asked for this and you know it,” Sam informs her pointedly, setting off up the stairs easily.  

“Rude,” Alex parrots back at her, even as she wiggles with a frustrated grumble until Sam rolls her eyes and flips her around, smiling widely down at her as she lands with a grunt in Sam’s arms.  "That’s better.“

"So demanding.”  Sam rolls her eyes and shoulders the door to her bedroom open and drops Alex down onto the bed.  She flops down next to her with a groan, almost halfway to sleep again.  She lets Alex’s hands move her around, changing her out of her suit and into the ratty t-shirt from her high school track team that she likes to sleep in after long days.  

“Please tell me you’re taking it easy tomorrow,” Alex says as she plugs Sam’s phone in and works the blankets out from under her so she can slide down into the cool sheets with a sigh.

“Cancelled the first meetings,” Sam says with a yawn.  "Nothing til noon.“  Her fingers hook into one of Alex’s pockets.  "Stay here tonight.  It’s late.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, instead kissing her briefly and changing into the pajamas she’s kept in Sam’s dresser for almost a year.  Sam’s arm reaches out and curls around her hip as soon as she lays down, pulling her closer blindly and settling around her waist, and Alex sinks back into her with a yawn of her own.

“You should move in,” Sam murmurs, the sound mostly disappearing into Alex’s shoulder where her lips are pressed.  "I like coming home to you.“

Alex’s heartrate stutters for a moment, her breath catching behind her sternum and muscles tensing, because Sam is nearly dead on her feet, too tired to function, and–

"Stop thinking and just say you will,” Sam says with a grumble.  

Alex turns around her in arms, one hand following the line from Sam’s elbow to her shoulder and back again.  Sam’s eyes are open, clear in the dim light that always filters in from the neighbor’s driveway, and her fingers fit easily, habitually, over Alex’s hip.  

“Okay,” Alex says, smiling and shuffling closer so she can kiss Sam.  "Okay.“

"Good,” Sam says with a nod and a wrinkle of her nose.  "Now turn around and let me spoon you until I go to sleep.“

"So bossy.”  Alex rolls her eyes, even as she turns around and drags Sam’s arm over her waist, pulling until she’s pressed tight to Alex’s back and holding her firmly.  Her hand traces the line of Sam’s forearm, elbow to wrist, in time with her breathing as she falls asleep almost immediately.  When Alex makes it to sleep herself, Sam’s still wrapped around her and breathing softly against the back of her neck, gentle and warm and, now, officially, Alex’s home.

[ellana-ravenwood]

“I’m not drunk, you are” - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary : Reader never drinks alcohol, so obviously, the day she decides to taste some champagne, she’s quickly...Rather drunk. Bruce and his sons are fortunately there to take care of her...and to film her embarrassing moments.

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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You never drink alcohol. Never. You just don’t like the taste of most of the beverages. Champagne or wine, tequila or vodka, even just a light cider...No thank you. 

When you go out with Bruce, you usually drink a soda or soft drink, even just water sometimes. 

But tonight, at yet another charity ball, your mind was elsewhere.

You had done it again. It often happened, and you always regretted it. Always. But you just couldn’t help it. Sometimes, you just had to be a sarcastic little shit full of witty answers. It always got you in trouble, since your early days in school, to now, in an important and very public event.   

This time, you had been a sarcastic little shit full of witty answers to the Mayor himself. The man already had a problem with your family ever since Bruce decided to support Harvey Dent to become the new mayor of Gotham, and was probably one of the most corrupted people in the World...so, needless to say that, when he left you company, clearly upset, you knew your actions would have repercussions, consequences, and it stressed the hell out of you. Why couldn’t you just control that damn mouth of yours ? 

Bruce wrapped a reassuring arms around your waist, bend down to your ears and whispered into it : 

-Relax (Y/N), no matter what, I’ll handle it. As Bruce Wayne or as...the other one. 

You gave him a weak smile and shook your head. 

-I’m so sorry Bruce...I really try to control myself, but when people like that man complain about not having a fourth plasma screen, or shit like that, while the city is drowning in poverty, I just can’t help myself. More than usual. 

-I know. I don’t blame you. At all. I already told you dear, your big mouth is one of the thing I love the most in you. I always know that you’re honest with me, which is rare, and you don’t hesitate to tell me when I go too far or something...I really love your big mouth. 

He paused as you squeezed his hand lovingly, and added in a very low whisper : 

-I also like it when you use it for...other performances. 

And with a wink, he made you blush like crazy. You hit him without much force in the ribs, and he chuckled, taking a sip of his little glass of bourbon. 

You really appreciated his effort to make you feel better...but Mayor Hady was a dangerous man, and you couldn’t help but think that telling him that he was proof evolution could go in reverse was definitely not your best idea...Oh my god and you said so much worst. You made people around you laugh. He was humiliated...You started sweating a bit, and got stressed again, not being able to bear the thought that you might have put your family in danger. 

Bruce was really not worried, he kept all of the mayor’s actions monitored, and  discovered that Sebastian Hady wasn’t actually as dangerous as he loved to pretend. You didn’t know however, and in this moment, Bruce didn’t really think about reassuring you on that, because really, for him, all of this story wasn’t much of a big deal at all. 

Your husband got called by a bunch of old men that he knew, and you had absolutely no intention of joining in in the conversion, so you went to your sons, and ranted a bit about your latest mistake. They all laughed, loving your antics...

And that’s the story of how you ended up with a glass of champagne in your hand. Jason said it’d loosen you up some, and you definitely needed to get rid of some stress...So you drunk. 

Jay was right, the first glass did loosen you up. 

The second one helped even more. 

At the third one, Dick warned you not to drink more, as since you never drink alcohol, it could have quite an effect on you. 

He didn’t see you drink the fourth and fifth glass, as you got separated to talk to different acquaintances. 

When you felt Bruce’s arm go around your waist, you just slumped on him and he looked down on you, worried you might have fainted or something. 

You were drinking your seventh glass. 

You were also drunk as fuck. 

-Are you Ok ? 

Your husband ask in your ear, bending down to reach it as he was quite taller than you. Your looked at him with a serious expression, and said :  

-No Bruce, I’m not OK. 

-What is it dear ? 

You squinted at him, and pointed a finger to his face. 

-You damn well know it mister. 

-Please, enlighten me...

-You didn’t tell me. 

-...What didn’t I tell you ? 

Silence. You look at him with the expression of a child that is annoyed, and you push him a bit away from you, gesturing around you (working really hard on keeping your balance). 

-You didn’t tell me that it was a costume ball ! 

Bruce just stares at you as if you’re crazy, and quickly understand that you drank too much. He glares at Dick and Jason who are laughing in a corner while looking at you yelling, and they immediately stop. 

-Do you think I didn’t tell you it was a costume ball because...it isn’t one ? 

-Nonsense my beloved Bruce, look at those people, look what they’re wearing, it’s too...too...bourgeois to be their real clothes. It look more like a...masquerade kind of ball you know. I mean, look at her over there, she’s wearing something out of the Renaissance, for real. And look at that guy’s tuxedo, it looks like it’s made out of Gold...Wait, is it actually gold ? 

Before you could walk up to the man to ask him what his clothes were made of, Bruce dragged you away with him to a nearby corridor, out of sight and out of ears. You kept commenting the “awful choice of wardrobe” of the people present, and some heard you and got totally offended. Though, they knew who you were. You had a reputation to be too brutally honest sometimes...

-What are you doing Bruce ? ...Are you ashamed of me because I’m not wearing an extra fancy dress that looks like it use to belong to Marie-Antoinette or some shit ? 

He couldn’t help but chuckle, as your sons joined you. Damian looked worried, but when you winked at him he let out a sigh of relief and awkwardly winked back. You smiled, and let out a loud burp. Ew. So much for a cute mother/son moment... 

-I’ll never be ashamed of you my love, but you are very drunk, I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself. 

-Tuh, baby, I can embarrass myself sober...Besides, I’m not drunk. I never drink. 

More chuckles from your sons. Tim took his phone out and started to record you making faces at the camera. He was so going to make an edit of that to show you later, and use as leverage when he’d want something and you’d say “no”. 

-Ok, I know that in general you’re very self-aware of what you are, and all of that. But from what the kids have been telling me, you drunk about seven glasses of champagne, and since it’s the first time you actually drink...

-Bruce, babe, if I was drunk, I’d know right ? I’m not...Holly shit honey, I didn’t notice before but, you look dapper ! Every men in this room should take example on you, nothing can go wrong when you wear a tuxedo. Well, except for Oswald Cobblywhateverhislastnameis. That man looks like a...penguin or something, with a tuxedo on. 

It was getting very hard for your boys and husband not to laugh, and when you started to breakdance to Beethoven, they totally lost it. People were starting to stare at the famous Waynes, all standing in the corridor, laughing their asses off while one of them was dancing to classical music...Minded, your dance move were on point. Especially since you wore high heels. Great balance. 

Bruce stood in front of you, his large frame shielding you from people’s view. 

-(Y/N), let’s go home, you’re drunk.

You stopped dancing, and turned to him with vivacity. You melted a bit when you saw his amused expression, it was so rare to see it on his face...But then, you remembered that he was totally wrong, and went to grab your handbag. 

-If I was drunk, could I make paper cranes ? Look. 

You took Bruce’s wallet out of your purse (how cute, you were keeping it for him), and got a hundred dollars bill out of it, quickly starting to work on your origami, sticking your tongue out as you were deeply focus. 

Tim wasn’t missing any action with the camera of his phone, and your other sons, even Damian, were almost suffocating because they laughed so much. Bruce just stared at you making a paper crane, a bit confused. He turned around too see that everyone was now staring at all of you, and some were even getting their phones out. He decided it was time to go. 

-Dick, go get the car please...Oh for god sake stop laughing like an idiot and get a move on ! We’re leaving, we gave them money, we won’t be missed. Come on, on we go. 

Still laughing loudly, your sons took the corridor to slowly exit the building. You were still making your paper crane when you felt your feet leaving the floor. 

-What are you doing Bruce ? 

-Carrying you back to the car. 

-But...Why ? 

-Because you’re drunk. 

-Look how flawless my origami is my sweet Bruce, do you think someone drunk could have done such a perfect paper sculpture ? 

-You don’t know how to make origamis when you’re sober baby...

You shrugged your shoulder, rolling your eyes as you mouthed the word “nonsense”, and tried to get out of his arms. He let you get back on the floor, but as you took a step, two...you lost balance and fell back in his arms. 

-Oh Bruce, the World is spinning...I think I might be a little sick, I feel somewhat dizzy and all...

He just smiled, and this time, when he took you up into his arms, you didn’t resist. 

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

You fell asleep in the car, and Bruce carried you in the mansion with his strong arms. As soon as they entered the place, your sons ran to Alfred to show him the videos Tim took, and to tell him everything...Needless to say, that night was filled with laughter and plans to embarrass you later on. 

Bruce didn’t take part in the conversation, as he took you up to your shared bedroom. He laid you down on your bed, and took his clothes off, putting on some comfy sweat pants, leaving his chest bare, and moved back to you. With delicate hands, he took your dress off and...you kicked him in the face. He fell back as you sat up in the bed. 

-How dare you, you filthy animal ! I’m not an easy woman ! You can’t just take me home and take advantage of me ! 

A bit stunned, Bruce stayed where he was, sitting on the floor, and just stared at you as you were ranting. You talked like this for quite some times, and your sentences were making less and less sense, when you finally stopped to look at Bruce, still on the floor, not really knowing what to do. 

-...What are you doing down there hun ? 

-You pushed me...

-No I didn’t. 

-Yes, you did. 

-I did ? 

-Yup. I hurt my elbow. 

He was trying to guilt trip your drunk self, and it worked. 

-I’m so sorry honey, oh my god what woooops...

You tried to stand up to reach him, but you also fell, and ended up falling on him, your dress slipping down around your knees. Bruce caught you as best he could, and you both just laughed. How sweet it was to just laugh. Moments like this were so rare...And even though you were drunk, it was still enjoyable, and you’d remember it for a long time. 

-Oh my love, what am I going to do with you ? 

-Show me your amazing prowesses in bed ? 

He laughed. He gave up any prospect of sex as soon as he saw you stumbling around the charity ball, as he knew that you’d probably get too drunk...But your passionate kiss ignited a fire in his lower stomach, and he responded fiercely. 

Turned out though, he was right to not expect anything, as mid-kiss, your tongue stopped massaging his, and your hand stopped touching his body...You had fallen back into a deep slumber that you wouldn’t come out off until the next morning. 

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

The next day, pictures of your husband carrying you to the car with the headline : “Bruce Wayne is a perfect gentleman...even when his wife is embarrassingly drunk” were on every newspapers. 

But you couldn’t care less as the biggest (and first) hungover you ever had was taking away all of your energy. It wasn’t all bad though, as the entire day, your boys and husband took amazing care of you. 

When you finally started to get better, right before their night patrol, Bruce showed you his “amazing prowesses in bed”, and enjoyed a quiet moment cuddling with you before leaving. Whenever he thought he couldn’t love you more, something came up, like you getting totally drunk and being hilarious, and he realized that he could totally fall for you even more deeply. 

You were too damn awesome. Even when “embarrassingly drunk”.