#alfred pennyworth fanfic

[stargirlfics]

The Gentleman Chapter Six: Tremble

Alfred Pennyworth x Black Dancer!Reader

Summary: Scarecrow threatens to bring Gotham to its knees while you and those you love find yourself caught in the middle

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, canon typical violence, mentions of chemical weapons, anxiety and hallucinations, mild angst and hurt/comfort, competency kink, alfred being a soft dom, smut: soft spanking tw, body worship, oral (reader receiving)

Word Count: 12.0k

This chapter is finally here and I actually cannot believe the journey it has been from when I started working on this, having months of difficulty writing and then I just write this massive chapter! I’m really happy to be sharing it and I hope it’s well worth the wait. I really appreciate and cherish all your comments and love and patience especially on this series, it means so much 🤎

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At the mercy of impending catastrophe, an entire city was holding its breath in sick anticipation.

News of Scarecrow and his fear toxin was everywhere one went, anxiety climbing with every hushed discussion and passing day without answers.

His motives were still unclear and everyone was trying to decipher the severity of the message he had left: This is Gotham’s only warning. Fear the Scarecrow.

What was to come next? And would you be ready?

Trust in Gotham’s institutions was few and far between for most, though you did feel a little more hopeful with Mayor Bella Reál’s steady presence in public lately—even still, people were bracing themselves. 

For you that meant dance rehearsals were still being held so stage time was abundant, the exotic performances and the allure of the Iceberg Lounge were quickly becoming a good means of escape for many in the city. 

You wanted to dazzle the audience, satisfied when you could suspend their belief that this was just a dance and convince them nymphs and sirens were real and alive in front of them instead. 

It was easy to throw yourself into the work if you thought about it; counting steps and turns while the band played their hearts out.

There was no other competition, the shimmer and sparkle of the costumes, the lingerie underneath even more dazzling, opal pearls and diamonds adorning your lush bodies caught every single eye.  

Five, six, seven…a spotlight shines down upon you, such a pretty beacon of desire, of the passion flowering so strongly in your own heart until there’s nothing but you and the music.

You left nothing on that stage at the end of the night. 

Especially not when Alfred was in the crowd watching you with an ever growing adoration. 

He made the effort to catch a show when he could, waiting with roses for you afterwards and no compliment or praise spared from your ears if he could help it. 

It was amazing how much things could shift, how nervous you had been the first time you knew he would be watching and now you welcomed it, relished in his promise to show up for you simply because he thought your talent and love for your artform was worth it, that you were worth it. 

And of course how could you forget his handwritten letter with such neat and elegantly written words, the very letter that sat on your nightstand since your date in the bookstore when he presented it to you and made it all official. 

You read over it in the late night hours and in the morning when you woke up wishing he was next to you, until you could recite every word he had written by heart. Weeks ago you would have felt anxious about entering a relationship, not wanting to go through heartbreak if your feelings weren’t the same but now you understood Alfred would never let you stand on unsteady ground. 

He hadn’t since the first moment your paths collided, the memory of it still so vivid you could practically hear the echo of your pounding footsteps on the concrete hurrying to reach him, taking a chance on a stranger and embracing him out of fear only to come away from it with your pulse racing for an entirely different reason instead. 

Something solid and gentle had formed here and you wanted to be cocooned inside of it forever. 

Your friends definitely didn’t hide their excitement that you were “basically dating a member of the Wayne family!” as Roxie had put it. 

She was the first to tell you she wouldn’t mind at all if you slipped Bruce her number. Bambi was already ride or die for the relationship, as was Amber and then Kiera’s encouragement of all things romance on top of it all certainly made this a fanclub if you’d ever seen one. 

Truthfully though their reassurances kept you from letting the tendency to overthink get in the way, making sure you knew that the way Alfred treated you was everything you deserved. 

Grateful felt like too simple a word but it’s perhaps the best word to summarize the way you felt about each of them. Elated in how they celebrated this with you, a sing-song chorus of excitement when you told them about his letter in the chat or how everything went after he spent the night at your place for the first time. 

It kept you hopeful, appreciating everything you had just a little extra.

Fresh snow dusted the windowsills of The Magpie where you were counting down the time until you’d have your evening free to spend with Alfred. 

You would see him in just a few short minutes anyways, with Bruce in tow for a meeting with the mayor and her team but knowing you’d still have some time before you truly got him to yourself left you feeling a little antsy. 

The bar had already been wiped down twice and you just checked on the handful of people sitting around for brunch, most of them talking and finishing off their drinks for the time being. 

So you settled on people-watching, polishing the crystal whiskey glasses while you did, arranging them in a stacked pyramid and you were almost done with the menial task when Bruce Wayne sidled up to the bar.

“Oh, hey! Can I get you anything, Mr. Wayne?” you greeted him with a smile, doing your best not to make it obvious you were also looking to see if Alfred was nearby.

“Please just call me Bruce, you don’t have to keep it so formal, really I insist. And just coffee if you can.” 

“Sorry, habit. I can get you some coffee, any sugar or cream?” you were laughing to yourself a little, forgetting that you didn’t have to address him so properly every time. 

You still did that with Alfred sometimes, a ‘Mr. Pennyworth’ at the tip of your tongue on occasion which always came with a playful scolding. 

“No thanks, I’ll take it as is,” Bruce corrected, thanking you again when you set the steaming mug down in front of him. “Oh, before I forget. He may have told you this already but when time allows it Alfred likes to try and get Dory and I together for a proper Sunday dinner and if you’re able to this coming weekend, I wanted to try and surprise him.”

Oh, how thoughtful! Quickly realizing he was inviting you to join them in this tradition of theirs made your heart swell and you hastened to accept. 

“That sounds so nice! Of course I can be there. Should I bring anything, dessert maybe?” 

“Yes, that would be perfect actually. It’ll be nice to have you there..uh, I know we haven’t had much time to speak but thank you, it’s good to see him happy lately and that’s because of you.” 

Bruce’s usual shy, reserved tone was more open, a little softer and you felt relief knowing that you had his approval in a way, maybe not wanting to admit to yourself that it had been a quiet worry all this time. 

His and Alfred’s relationship was on better working ground now and you didn’t want to complicate that or make it any more difficult for them to connect in the way they needed and it was very clear from the start that they did need each other and cared for one another fiercely. 

This was good, really good. 

“I’m glad and that’s okay by the way there’s been a lot going on you’re probably just as busy as he is, if not more, I figured we’d get to talk at some point. I really do just want to make him happy and I hope you know he is because of you too, he’s so proud of you.”

Your last few words saw the very rare edge of a smile before he took a sip from the mug, face turning stoic again.

Speaking of Alfred, he walked in the very next moment, as effortlessly handsome as usual. His suit was a crisp charcoal gray, a black tie tucked perfectly into that pristine waistcoat you knew felt smooth under your hands, the familiar gold accents of his wristwatch and cane pulling it all together. 

He always looked incredible but god did he have you weak from halfway across the room today, those kind, blue eyes finding you with ease. 

Waving him over to the bar, you started making his usual cup of Earl Grey, sharing a sheepish smile when you greeted each other. 

“Good to see you, darling. I hope you’ve had an easy morning.” The depth and lull of his voice and that accent sent warmth spreading across your cheeks, distracted from hearing the affection in his tone. 

“I have, thank you,” setting his cup of tea down on the bar counter, you leave the milk out for him to pour how he likes, “Hope the meeting goes well, you’re gonna kill it!”

“That’s very nice of you. I imagine it will, what we’re proposing will benefit the city and they seem receptive to Bruce’s ideas, which is all we can ask for.” 

Beaming at him you nodded encouragingly, giving yourself a few more moments to talk with the two men before the mayor arrived and they were whisked off to a more private table. 

Kiera came in not long after that, you were really just working the morning to fill in for her until she could get here but your plans to leave with Alfred right after his meeting lined up with the timing anyways.

An hour passed ever so slowly, the meeting finally finishing with what looked like good spirits from everyone and before long you were saying your goodbye’s to Bruce since he had to head out while Alfred lagged behind to take a phone call from his office. 

Bundled up in your coat, you waited by the hostess stand content to watch the snow flurries begin to fall outside, such a stark contrast to the warm, crimson interior. 

Not sure how long you were lost admiring the view, a warm hand slides across your lower back drawing your attention in a gentle caress you’re sure you’d know anywhere.

“Ready to leave?” Alfred held his hand out for you and kissed your knuckles when you fit your palm against his.

The eager nod of your head and the accompanying excited giggle gave you away but you didn’t care to hide how much you’d been looking forward to this evening with him. 

“Ready.” 

Outside the air was chilly, coats zipped up a little higher while you discussed what the plans were for the rest of the day. 

It was still fairly quiet out on the streets, the business sector in this part of the city always a bit more empty than the bustling traffic of downtown that you were used to, at least before dinner rush anyway. 

Nothing out of the ordinary piqued your attention until Alfred was pausing mid-sentence, asking if you heard what he had heard.

“No, what-” but no sooner than you had opened your mouth, the faintest recognition of what sounded like a scream could be heard. You flicked your eyes up to him in concern. 

Had it really been a scream? Or was the frigid wind playing tricks on you, whistling through the air?

The same sound rang out again somewhere in the distance, only this time you both were able to hear a distinct shout of “HELP!” following it. 

The mood had suddenly turned urgent but it was as if you could only move in slow motion until you realized that at this very moment, the other shoe had indeed dropped. 

Chaos was the only way to describe it, more shouts piercing the air but nothing prepared you for the wave of people running out into the street in every direction. 

You can’t be sure exactly what’s going on or what everyone was running from but the gears were already spinning in your mind and you don’t hesitate to move when Alfred hurriedly nudged you to follow him, clutching onto his jacket as he guided you to cross the street where his car was parked around the corner. 

But you wouldn’t make it more than a few steps off the curb.

The flow of the crowd was too dense, too panicked and you were jostled as you tried to keep your feet steady on slick, snowy pavement.

A gasp was knocked loose from your throat when someone shoved past you, upsetting your balance in the process, the impact forcing you to let go of Alfred’s hand.

Fingers flailed but it was no use, you couldn’t move fast enough and soon more people pushed themselves between you on all sides which meant he couldn’t reach you either. You were quickly losing sight of him, legs feeling like lead as you tried to follow the sound of his voice shouting your name but there’s too much noise to filter out. 

No, no! Where is he? I can’t see him anymore.

Your heart sank realizing you’d lost him in the crowd, even as frantically as you were searching for him there were so many people dashing past as you also tried to keep moving that you knew it would be impossible to find him like this. 

You were separated and on your own. 

Now it felt like your sense of direction was off, not sure if you were still headed in the right direction towards his car anymore, the whole world feeling like it was swallowing you up.

Deep breaths, just take a deep breath. Keep moving. 

You had to repeat it to yourself in order to stay calm, trying to reassure yourself that somehow you could make it out of whatever this was but a pang of worry for Alfred made you feel nauseous. 

Unwelcome thoughts of something happening to him threatened to take root amidst your struggle to think. Hands moving on their own volition, you reached into your bag to fumble for your phone; maybe you could could get a hold of him by calling, sending a text, could find where he was and try and make your way to him in the event you ended up making it to the car and he wasn’t there.  

Seconds later, up ahead of you, a truck swerved to avoid a group of people rushing into the intersection which sent everyone scrambling to move aside, inadvertently knocking you off balance again. 

Stinging pain prickled in the meat of your shins, rattling all the way up to your temple when you collided with the cold concrete, eyes going wide knowing it wasn’t safe to be on the ground like this. 

But it didn’t matter because had you not been knocked to the ground you weren’t sure you would have noticed it: the shiny silver canister nestled in a pile of snow not six feet away. 

Something didn’t feel right about this. It felt like you were being herded to this point.

Under the noise of so many footsteps and all the commotion you heard it click, a slow whistling hiss coming after. The sound grew louder but you were already scrambling backwards trying to put distance between you and the cloudy plume of gas extinguishing from the cylinder. 

This had to be the fear toxin, this had to be him. 

Fresh screams dotted the blood rushing to your brain through your ears, dread forming a hard lump in your throat as you watched the gas diffuse again and mix with the falling snow. 

Loosening your scarf you folded it over your nose and mouth hoping it would buy you some time if you weren’t breathing as much of it in, you couldn’t be sure you hadn’t already. 

Your heart was hammering in your ribs when you finally found your footing and could stand, ignoring the strain in your muscles or how your skin felt raw from where your tights had snagged and torn from crawling on the pavement. 

Now that you were on your feet again your surroundings were more familiar.

It’s how you spotted the mouth of an alleyway to your right, knowing exactly where it would lead, recognizing the rust red fire escape peeking out from the side of the building. You hadn’t realized you traveled back this far but you’d take it, at least you’d be off the street this way. 

The disadvantage of this was that you were working against the flow of bodies but you tried to keep your stance wide and square out your shoulders so you couldn’t be pushed quite as easily, and there was something else…a noticeable difference in how people were acting. 

It wasn’t just panic in their eyes, pupils glazed over and blown wide, this was an erratic look of fright. This toxin was confirmed to cause hallucinations which could only mean there had to be dozen’s on this street alone who’d come in contact with it. 

You could only imagine what awful things they were seeing, your voice ricocheting against the clamor of sounds trying to warn whoever you could. 

Just then, the quickest flash of gold appears in your peripheral and you hear your name again turning in time to see him, Alfred, shouldering his way through the crowd. 

You stared in awe, questioning for a split second if you were starting to see things too but he was really there fighting and pushing his way through the packed street to get to you.

The small relief when he reached you, both of his arms locking around you this time before ushering you the rest of the way. Slipping into the alleyway was easy after that. 

“Are you hurt? Darling, look at me please! Are you hurt?” His voice is chalked with concern, a clipped edge to his tone that echoed against the brick wall you had slumped against to catch your breath. 

He’s already looking you up and down in careful assessment. 

“I’m fine! I’m okay..I think, but wait, Alfred! This was intentional, the gas it-” the words come tumbling out but you fall short at the nod he gave you. Of course he had pieced it together. You’re gulping before noticing his cane is missing. “What about you? I was so worried when we-” the words died in your throat for a second time remembering how you got separated in the crowd. 

You didn’t trust yourself not to cry. 

“Me too, sweet girl but I am alright. I was far more worried about you.” and it’s the tenderness in his voice that makes you sniffle. 

Screaming cuts through the brief moment of rest and you both agree you need to get out of here, deciding to stay off the main streets. If you could cut through a few alleyways you’d be able to get to his car.

His hand is once again steady in yours, thumb passing over your skin trying to soothe you while your own fingers return pressure here and there, beyond relieved to be next to him again even with a million more worries arising. 

The damage had already been done though, time beginning to move slowly, buildings looming high above feeling suffocating, as if maybe you’d never find your way out, every muffled cry or scream from the streets a terrible chorus. 

A loud squeal and the creaking of metal a few feet ahead halted your steps again, Alfred’s arm thrown back to push you behind him. 

Four men filed out of a side door, the hoods of their jackets pulled up so they were shrouded in shadows, both of you just barely avoiding being seen. 

Alfred had hastened to backtrack and slip behind an empty delivery truck in the alley that provided some cover without close inspection but was still too close for any sort of comfort. 

Everything in you went quiet and still, clammy fingers gripping Alfred’s bicep a little tighter, grateful you were wedged between the side of the truck and his body. You don’t want to look their way again but your anxiety rises at the thought of not knowing how far away they were so you risk a peek over his shoulder. 

Your blood goes cold almost instantly, breath sucked from your lungs when a fifth man stepped forth. 

Dead eyes pierced through a ripped burlap hood covering the man’s head, its crooked stitching reminding you of an old scarecrow only the rest of him was clad in a suit. All you felt was dread. 

“Keep your eyes peeled.” a distorted command came from behind the decrepit hood.

There was something terrifying about the way this man moved, it was creepy and sinister, your suspicions confirmed when you spotted more of those silver canisters peeking out from his suit jacket just before he was slinking away, moving out onto the street ahead flanked by those four men, each with a weapon in hand. 

Tentative relief came seeing the distance increase between your position and theirs but you weren’t out of the woods yet by any means with one more street to go.

Counting shallow breaths one by one, you waited until the crunch of their footsteps on the snow faded enough to move ahead safely. 

Alfred squeezed your fingers to get your attention, motioning for you to follow him from out behind the truck carefully. It was best not to stay idle here too long.

In the midst of trying to process what just occurred you didn’t notice Alfred pull out a small blade until you saw it clenched in his left hand, noting the way he kept it tucked in towards his palm so that outwardly no one could see it was there. 

His other hand gripped your arm, keeping you from being able to move from behind his back as you crept forward together, a defensiveness in his movements that made it seem like this was just muscle memory for him. 

Here he was, protecting you, keeping you calm this whole time and though it wasn’t surprising anymore you were still a little struck by just how much he cared for you, your wellbeing. It bled through into every part of him and that had your heart clenching. 

When you finally made it out of the alley fresh worry spiked like ice inside your chest, attention drawn to every direction trying to make sure nothing would catch either of you off guard now that you were no longer under the cover of the city’s alleyways but at last, after what felt like an eternity, you had arrived. 

Unlocking the car and seeing to it that you were safely tucked inside, Alfred was skillfully weaving the sleek vehicle through the streets in no time.  

—

Everything felt like it was turned upside down.

Sirens and police cars whizzed past, headed in the direction you’d just left behind and you could only watch as the weather turned dreary.

Alfred checked in every so often, comforting you with reassuring glances, a soft squeeze to your knee which you returned with a weak smile. You were sure he had noticed you shivering as well and felt appreciative of the warm air circulating through the vents. 

Remembering your phone after a moment you fished it out of your bag, replying to a string of texts from Kiera who was worried sick and thankfully still safe inside where you last saw her. 

Scrolling through the rest of your messages and missed phone calls that kept pinging in your notifications you let each of them know you were safe until it hit you that something was missing, a sudden gasp catching Alfred’s attention.  

“Do-do you think Bruce is okay? He left a few minutes before us. Maybe he managed to miss all that.”

“I’m sure he made it through, but he’s not been answering his phone. We’ll be at the Tower soon and we can check.” 

It sounds hopeful but the crease of worry between his brows makes you wonder. 

Trying to cling to the more hopeful outcome, you attempt to keep bad thoughts at bay with the idea that you’d see that swath of dark hair emerging from the staircase as soon as you step into the foyer. He just had to be there. 

The rest of the drive was fairly quiet but the noise in your head made up for it. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d seen—Scarecrow. How close you’d gotten to the fear toxin but so luckily managed to avoid it, a sick feeling in your stomach seeing what it did to the people around you. 

Whatever his big plans were for the people of Gotham, you were sure they were horrifying. 

Anxiety drips from your shoulders when the car finally comes to a stop, limbs heavy again as you soar up to the penthouse floors from the parking garage elevator and it’s only when the low hum of the lift stops that you let go of Alfred’s hand, the doors opening to a suspended silence. 

It only took a few minutes and a quick search to see that it was evident Bruce wasn’t here. 

Your stomach was twisted into knots again waiting patiently while Alfred tried his cell phone one more time. Each trilling of the dial tone felt longer than the last and your heart sank once it went to voicemail. 

“If he has his location on, I’m sure I’ll be able to find him.” He takes a deep breath, pacing the floor trying to think, to come up with answers. 

Wringing your hands wasn’t doing much to ease the tension in your body so you forced yourself to lean against the solid wood table of the main room. 

Touching something solid seemed to help and you wanted to be helpful to Alfred right now, at the very least supportive in the effort to find Bruce, hoping anxiety wouldn’t take over everything.

Mentally you were running through a list of possible places near the incident that he could be, fingers flying to your phone to search news updates, find out if Bruce’s name had been mentioned anywhere. 

“Christ, I’ve found him! His phone is at the GCPD building. He can’t have been there for very long yet.” 

“Okay, that’s good. He’s probably okay then if he’s there of all places, right?” your question is tinged with a cautious optimism as is Alfred’s responding agreement but you still feel unsure. 

“I’m going to head there regardless, surely he’s fine but I don’t want to take any chances. I wish he would answer his bloody phone, though.”

He sounded like such a dad in that moment you might have laughed if the circumstances were different. 

“Maybe he’s there with the mayor too, they walked out together before us, it was probably the first place he would think to go especially if they saw something related to what we saw.” you offer a little reassurance and reach out to squeeze his shoulder. 

“Smart girl. I’m sure you are right.” Alfred sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Fngers pinching the bridge of his nose before he slips his glasses from his breast pocket and puts them on, focused in on what needed to be done once again, typing out a few messages to Bruce in the meantime. 

“I can come with you, just in case he’s in trouble or, or.” you don’t want to go any further with possibilities and you aren’t sure how to articulate your uneasiness at him going back out there on his own even if he could handle himself. 

It upset you to think you wouldn’t be there, wouldn’t know if something else were to happen. 

“Oh my love, I appreciate that. You’ve been so brave through all this and I do want you with me but more importantly I need you safe and staying here will ensure that. I don’t want you in harm's way.” he’s setting down his phone to cup your cheeks, moving in close so his nose brushes yours gently. 

You want to protest but understand that he’s right, the lump in your throat returning as you look at him. 

He was being strong, for you, keeping it together just to make sure you weren’t any more frightened than you needed to be but you could see the stress in his features and knew you needed to be strong for him too. 

“I don’t like it but I understand,” you relented with a whisper, leaning into him a little more, unconsciously trying to hold on. “I’ll stay here but just please be careful okay?” 

Alfred moved back a bit so you’d look him in the eyes, a determination in them that takes away some unsettled nerves. 

“I promise I will be. I’ll keep in touch as well, as soon as I find out anything you’ll get a call.” His soft murmur came in between the gentle press of his lips against your forehead. 

His kisses were effective in calming you even if it didn’t help the reluctance to part from him, you know he has to go and don’t want to delay him any longer. 

A new wave of emotion crests at the way he fusses over you before departing; making sure you were okay to be here alone for a bit, reminding you to eat something soon and that there was a change of clothes still in his room if you wanted to shower and take off your torn tights and snow dampened sweater. 

The anxious shake of your hands was better even as you kissed him goodbye, returning his thoughtfulness by making sure he had a pair of gloves and another cane from his collection in hand before hurrying off, your feet lingering for a moment longer after the elevator doors close behind him. 

Now…the waiting began.  

—

Barely twenty minutes have gone by but you’re restless and there’s a sharp tension in your shoulders all the way down to your hamstrings that won’t ease up even when you try to relax. 

Wayne Tower was quiet and far too empty, the methodic tick of the old grandfather clock in the foyer and your footsteps all the sound she’d bestow.

Sitting still has proved to be impossible so you wander the halls, count the steps each staircase you go up, try to roll out the stiffness in your neck little by little. 

It’s only afternoon but the skies are gray and dark, some heavy kind of shadow cast over every corner that could be touched and there wasn’t a single thing you could do about it but have patience. 

News updates are slow meaning no one knows anything concrete yet, just that nearby hospitals were starting to get an influx of people affected by the fear toxin and police were all over the scene of the incident and surrounding areas. You’re just glad it seemed to be isolated to the few blocks you had navigated around earlier, nothing else occurring elsewhere in the city. 

That certainly didn’t mean these incidents weren’t going to spread, you were fully prepared to hear of more fear toxin attacks in the near future with so much mystery still surrounding Scarecrow.

This whole thing felt deeper than what you could see at the surface but all you could come up with were questions and more questions. 

But there’s no use in giving yourself a headache, not now at least, your phone ringing abruptly and Alfred’s name illuminating the screen. You’re answering before the second ring, taking a deep breath the moment he tells you everything is alright. 

Bruce was indeed at GCPD headquarters when Alfred got there and the pair were in the process of giving statements about what they saw related to the attack so it was looking like they were going to be there for a while yet. 

You don’t get to speak to Alfred for long before you hear him being summoned and you’re wrapping things up, wishing him well before he leaves you with a promise that he’ll update you as things go. 

Your body felt much lighter now that you knew they were safe, the tightness in your chest dissipating as you finally allowed yourself to unwind a little.

Stomach still too tense to try and eat anything yet, you opt to take a shower instead, the change of clothes and the hot steam of the water would do you good. 

Finding the familiar path to Alfred’s bedroom was easy, his space inviting, kept as tidy as ever but you still see all of him in it. 

The faded bookmark sticking out of the novel on his bedside table, his nighttime reading glasses that lay folded on a stack of books to the left, and the tie and cufflinks atop his dresser still there from when he was getting ready this morning you imagined.

You’re comforted knowing you’re surrounded by his things and you’re further softened seeing your clothing items amongst his from when you stayed the night for the first time, everything neatly folded in the way you’ve learned he liked to fold. 

Thoughts of him lingered as you retreated into the warmth of the shower, adrenaline slowly leached from your body, swirling down the drain with the soapy water. 

You didn’t realize how exhausted you were from the last hour and a half until your eyes started to feel heavy but you don’t want to get out just yet. 

It feels safe here and you’re already too far gone indulging in daydreams of your boyfriend, the thrill of being able to call him that now—the same one who practically bouldered his way through a crowd of people to reach you. 

In the moment there hadn’t been time to really think about it but now that you were alone with your thoughts, it’s all you could replay. 

Or maybe it’s all you wanted to think about but either way you wanted to drown in whatever strength and steadfast skill Alfred possessed, heart fluttering thinking of how every movement was intentional, the way his entire body pivoted to shield you, keep you safe as you moved through the streets, the switchblade he so effortlessly and quietly had ready and the expert flourish of his wrist when he pocketed it in the car. 

Yes you knew he had been a soldier, had seen combat and was skilled in more areas than you could count, you could only imagine all the technical and psychological training he had from his days as an intelligence agent and though you took those parts of him seriously, you also couldn’t help but find it all deeply attractive. 

Where words could not be applied, he showed you. 

Refreshed and in more comfortable clothes, your mind felt a little clearer even if having to wait was still difficult but you try and be patient for another update, checking in with your friends in the meantime.

Alfred’s bedroom was warm from the steam still escaping from the connecting bathroom and you felt far too cozy here to venture back downstairs so you climb into the large bed and curl up on his side, comforted by the fact that his pillows smell like him. 

No longer restless from the quiet aura in the air, fatigue rolled in, the energy to worry had faded quickly. Instead you began to drift off, the allure of resting pulling you under so easily. 

Your phone is still clutched in your hand as you oscillate between worlds, thinking of Alfred and that “oh my love” that had left his lips so tenderly, understanding now why your breath caught in your chest after, why you’d been persuaded to listen. 

He refused to let you dismiss your own wellbeing when thinking of others, your importance to him was too great to let you follow him into the unknown even if he’d feel much better having you by his side.

Nothing was going to happen to you if he had anything to do about it. 

You hadn’t ever been shown this much adoration before and so fiercely and consistently at that and you slip into a light slumber thinking that this must be what falling in love felt like. To know perhaps, somewhere etched deep within you that it was exactly that. Love. 

An unending flame, a sewn red string, so viscerally real it had you swearing to nurture it always. Even in sleep you know you’d never dream of stopping.

—

Winter sun had just begun to set when you were woken up by the sharp buzzing of your phone. A text message. 

On the way back now, Bruce is with me. Hope you’re doing alright, I’ll see you soon, lovely   x Alfred

Smiling at the good news you rub the grogginess from your eyes and reply back before tucking your face back into the pillow for a few more minutes. 

Your nap had lasted an hour or so and afternoon was quickly spilling into evening as you blink the last remnants of sleep away and check the time. Anticipation and the rumbling in your tummy finally get you up. 

Taking a few moments to fix where your curls had flattened to your head from laying on your side, you fluffed out the small coils until it looked the way you wanted, padding down the old staircases and into the kitchen soon after. 

You wanted to try and make something quick to eat for when they got back, you were sure if you were hungry they must be too especially after everything that had happened, all the extra energy spent. 

A quick browse through the fridge and pantry had you grabbing ingredients for sandwiches, absentmindedly putting everything together and you’d just stacked the last one on the plate when you heard the elevator chime and you didn't bother to put anything away, rushing out to the foyer right away.

You don’t care that you’re running, feet carrying you forward with their own motivation, you’ve waited long enough and it’s a complete and total relief when Alfred and Bruce step inside.

Alfred saw you first, a grunt that turns into a chuckle resounding through his chest when you all but crash into him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in a hug that he returns immediately, his own arms sliding across your torso to pull you in close. 

Not a second more apart, that is all you wished out of the rest of this day. 

“I’m so happy you guys are back. What’s going on out there?” you compose yourself after a moment.  

“Half the city is shut down right now, people are scared and staying inside judging by how empty the streets are.” Bruce runs a hand through his hair while he explains.

You almost don’t notice that his fingers are smudged in some sort of dark ink or paint, the color reminding you of motor oil, thoughts racing as to what could have happened, what he might have seen. 

“Are you guys doing okay?” you’re asking quietly as you all walk into the main room, hoping you hadn’t pressed too much too soon, just worried by what their faces won’t yield. 

Alfred shrugs off his coat and rubs your shoulders to comfort you. 

“We’re both alright, darling, don’t worry.” He's reassuring you, steady and measured voice calming you enough to where you begin to let yourself focus on how delighted you are to see them. 

Bruce is the first to head to the kitchen when you mention you made sandwiches if anyone was hungry, his thanks echoing down the hall. 

You take a moment then to greet Alfred properly, kissing him soundly, spine tingling when he returned the kiss with a sweet pressure that gave away how much he missed you.

“I’m so sorry it’s been hours, their investigation is a big operation and nearly everyone needed to speak to us. Are you doing alright? I’ve been thinking of you all afternoon." He's looking over your frame again, almost like he can’t help but check for himself one more time

“I’m okay, I promise! Actually doing a lot better now that you’re here. It was hard not to be a nervous wreck for a second there but I took a shower and ended up sleeping for an hour and that really helped.” you’re sighing contently against his shoulder. 

“That’s my girl. I am so proud of you for how you’ve handled all this today, I really am. That’s great!”  

His words were so full of praise and affection it flusters your thoughts and you’re glad he can’t fully see your face lest he notice how much you’re affected, how much that just made you want him, but you reasoned it wasn’t the right time for romantic feelings and desires to take hold yet.

Not when there were still so many questions and things to be talked about, so you stow away those thoughts for the moment, already sure the tension would be palpable when you were able to be alone. 

Maybe it would only be a little longer left till then. 

Eventually the two of you joined Bruce in the kitchen, everyone feeling a little more settled after eating, able to process and debrief about what madness you’d found yourselves in today. 

Surreal didn’t even begin to describe how it felt but it’s all you could manage to say, not quite sure how you were able to make it out of the chaos in the streets unscathed save for a few bruises, it all felt like a bad dream come to life and everyone feared that the worst was still yet to come, that sick feeling in your gut returning with the thought that they were probably right. 

Dusky colors peeked over the horizon as the three of you tuned into the five o’clock evening news hour, wary faces glued to the TV as the first solid pictures of Scarecrow flashed across the screen. Your knees bounced nervously where you were sitting on an old loveseat, the reminder of his hooded face making you shiver. 

An eerie cell phone video showed him moving down a street with his henchmen, people screaming and writhing on the ground from the toxin. 

It seemed like he enjoyed what he had caused, a maniacal glint to his eyes, in the way he moved his face under that hood you swore had to be fused to his skin by the way it looked on him. You had to look away after the third loop of the video, an attempt to keep any nightmares about him later at bay. 

Some information was given about the initial incident that sent everyone running; the toxin had been released inside the vents at the City Hall building near The Magpie, gas canisters later found in the ducts like the ones you’d seen in the commotion, lying in the snow so coincidentally. 

Having confirmation that it had been planned like you thought only produced more confusion with the sudden wish to have been very wrong about what was going on. 

Premeditation like this could only mean this man was cunning and careful, that he’d only been caught on video and surveillance footage because he intended to be seen and that terrified you to realize. 

When you dared to peek at the TV again you immediately had to do a double take, up close photos of the men flanking Scarecrow in the video popping up, showing you what the men you saw in the alley really looked like out of the shadows. 

You wanted to throw up. You knew for sure that you recognized one of them. 

The same man who had been following you when you ran into Alfred that morning you met completely by chance.

It couldn’t be, you didn’t want it to be, as if you could kid yourself into believing you’d forgotten his face no matter how hard you had tried since that day, but it was him and a shudder rolled down your spine at how much of an awful turn this was. 

Your small gasp of surprise caught Bruce’s attention and you noticed his careful gaze shift from the screen to your face in a question, figuring out what you’re stuck on trying to explain before you can get any words out. 

“You know one of them?” there’s something in Bruce’s tone you can’t discern right away. 

“I..yes I recognize him,” your sigh was heavy, followed by the point of your finger when the man’s picture was shown one more time. “Don’t know his name or anything but I do know he works for Oz, I’ve seen him around the Iceberg Lounge pretty recently.” 

You took a deep breath before turning your attention to Alfred who was also listening curiously.

“I should also mention that I found out he was the man who was stalking me the morning we met. Oz sometimes uses his men to intimidate the dancers who get out of line with him and I may or may not have injured his pride the night before. I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner I just didn’t want to upset you with it.” 

You cringe inwardly, anxiety rushing in all over again now that you’d said it out loud. 

That incident had been something you tried not to give too much thought to, you’d been careful, always were and hadn’t had any more issues with being followed, even got back in Cobblepot’s good graces lately as well but seeing that photo brought it all back. 

“Hey, you have nothing to apologize for, darling. That’s quite alright and more than understandable, I think you know either way I’d always be upset knowing he sent that man to stalk you but I would never be angry with you about that.” Alfred spoke gently. 

You’re relieved he isn’t mad at you even if the guilt that lingered made you worry.

Maybe you’d make a point to bring it up again when you were alone and able to discuss it in the full context of your relationship, you were sure he wouldn’t mind giving you a little extra reassurance about it. 

“Thank you. I don’t know what to make of this but I am a bit shocked Oz would be connected. He’s looking for opportunities to climb up in the crime world, all of us know that and he can be sleazy and he has a reputation for a reason but for him to be part of something like this if he really is involved is extreme.” you chew the inside of your cheek, pondering if your boss had made a deal with the devil in his search for power in Gotham. 

Men like him were all smoke and mirrors with a penchant for easily bruised egos but these revelations had you questioning things. It wasn’t a good thing to know too much in this situation and right now, you were making one too many connections for your liking. 

You would just have to be more vigilant now, especially around him. 

The investigation into today’s fear toxin attack was still ongoing and every news outlet was clamoring for updates and solid information that was nonexistent right now, Bruce finally turning off the TV after a while. 

There would be a press conference tomorrow, maybe the city would know more by then but for now it was no use to any of you to rewatch the events you’d already experienced firsthand today. 

Bruce announced he was going to shower and call it a night and wished you well if he didn’t see you again, adding that you were welcome to stay any time if you didn’t feel safe going home and he was glad you weren’t hurt after everything. 

It brought about a smile to your face again to know he didn’t think any differently of you and made sure you felt welcome.

You were remembering his offer to surprise Alfred with a proper dinner this weekend and though what happened today seemed to put a huge damper on things, you hoped that could still happen. 

Closeness and company was what you all needed right now. 

After helping Alfred tidy up the kitchen a bit he offers to drive you home and your face must have indicated your disappointment because he was quick to explain he had every intention of spending the rest of the night with you, just thought you’d want to be in your own space after such a taxing day. 

He was right, as comfortable as you felt here at Wayne Tower you did miss your apartment and your bed and the familiarity of being in your space but you were also relieved to know that he was still looking forward to making the most out of things this evening. 

Of course he’d never leave you wanting or wishing. 

Trying to hide your eagerness was a challenge, a new kind of adrenaline in your system as you watched Alfred gather some things to take with him because he said he’d be staying the night too which meant you’d get to have him to yourself after all, putting excitement back in your veins after you’d been quietly hoping to be able to wake up next to him in the morning.

When you finally left the Tower, the streets were just as barren and quiet as Bruce had said, it was eerie not seeing any of the usual traffic. 

The only semblance of relief came from seeing that familiar bat signal lit up in the sky, a few hopeful beams cutting through the gloom in the air. 

Nothing was going to be the same moving forward and most of the city had been bracing for this since the first threat. It was only a matter of time but tonight, you wanted to forget for a little while and just take all the comfort and quality time with Alfred that you could. 

He was as protective as ever walking up to your building and doesn’t fully drop his guard until you’re both inside and the door is locked. 

Home at last!

Falling back onto more recent patterns, the space by the door is filled in with Alfred’s shoes, his coat hanging up next to yours, his presence in your apartment making it feel the most complete it’s ever been. 

He insisted that you let him make an evening cup of tea for both of you while you sank into the couch cushions, browsing through movies to watch together before you agree on something comedic and lighthearted. 

Eventually he joined you and somewhere in between laying your head against his shoulder and the middle of the movie, you finished your mug of chamomile tea and Alfred had pulled you into his lap.

And somewhere between then and the end of the movie you fit yourselves together so you could be cuddled against his side, your leg draped over his to make space. 

He’s so solid and warm that you’re helpless to sink into his hold, unable to explain why his arms made you feel so sweetly held, so comforted that the feeling radiated through just the mere mention of his name. 

Maybe it’s why the tears eventually came, when you knew you were completely safe and able to feel all your emotions fully after hours of having to push through.

It didn’t take Alfred long to notice your quiet sniffles though, catching the moment some of those tears spill over in silence. 

“Ohh sweetheart, it’s alright you’re okay. I’m right here, can you tell me what’s on your mind?” His words are soft and patient and spoken so gently you feel more tears come. 

“Today was just a lot…like I keep thinking of when we got separated in the street. I don’t think I’ve ever been as scared as I was at that moment. It’s probably all hitting me now I think,” the waver in your voice could have broken his heart. 

“It was a lot and you’ve done such a good job getting through it, you know that was a brilliant idea to use your scarf as a mask? You have no idea how proud I am of you! But you are right, that was terrifying, I was so worried you were hurt or trampled or worse, can’t imagine how caught off guard and disoriented you must have felt and I am so sorry for that, darling.”

Alfred kissed your temple, fingers careful when he began to wipe away the salty streaks left behind on your cheeks and nose. 

You wiggle yourself a little closer and nod against his shoulder, “You found me though, you made sure I wouldn’t be hurt even if you did almost give me a heart attack thinking I’d never be able to find you again.” 

This time there’s a genuine, shy laugh at the end of your words. 

“I’d always find you, you know that right?” his tone shifted to a slight seriousness, still comforting but there’s a weight to his words that steals your breath. “There isn’t a time, a place or a world in which I wouldn’t come find you, wouldn’t do everything in my power to keep you safe, you mean far too much to me.” 

You cried a bit more when all of that sentiment sank in because you trusted Alfred so much you knew he spoke truthfully, it wasn’t just to ease your emotions he meant every word and in turn, you’d felt every word. 

“I know, I don’t doubt that one bit. I know we talked about this earlier but I do want you to know I didn’t intend to keep that information about Oz sending someone to stalk me a secret from you. I promise I’m going to be a lot more careful around him now too.” 

He wiped away the dampness from your lashes before simply shaking his head at you and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“That would definitely be wise going forward especially since we don’t know how deep his involvement goes but I also don’t want you worrying about how I feel, sweet girl. That was always yours to tell if and when you felt ready and it meant something greater that you trusted me with that knowledge, that I can be a place of confidence for you.” 

When would he ever stop rendering you speechless?!

You began to think the answer was never and that was just fine honestly, your heart so taken with his patience and diligence to validate your feelings whenever it was needed, no shame or dismissal involved.  

“Sometimes I think I just need a little extra reminding but you’re right I do know I can trust you with anything that’s going on, with anything I’m feeling.”

“Good, that makes me happy. I may have been thinking about putting you over my knee for thinking such silly thoughts that I would be upset, but there’s not a single thing you have to apologize for.” 

Oh.

You forgot how to breathe after hearing that, something lighting up inside you imagining yourself over his knee, accompanying thoughts of being toyed with, spanked, squirming and helpless under the grip of those strong hands of his followed swiftly.

He’d figured it out now, reading the change of your expression for what it was, latent desires rising to the surface.

You untangled yourself from his embrace to sit up for a moment, further distracted when he clasped his hands behind his head, shirt pulling taut over his biceps. 

“Thanks for reassuring me, if I ask again feel free to do that though, think I might actually get it through my head then,” you teased shyly, “I guess I am being silly, you did after all muscle your way through a wall of people to get to me, which by the way was very impressive.” 

He laughed at your compliment, the sound low and gravelly to your ears, pulling you in. 

“Mm used to be a boxer, love. I’m flattered you think so.” 

Oh wow. Again your interest in his skills had been piqued and he must have seen the flicker of an urge to ask further in your eyes because he continued after a second. 

“Well, field medics like to have fun too and it was the army so we were all trained in hand-to-hand combat; boxing kept us in shape and gave the lads something to do, to focus on. I still try to keep up with the training, Bruce and I spar a lot of the time, we have since he was old enough to throw a punch.” Alfred tilted his head at you a little, reminiscence on his features for but a moment. 

A stray image of potentially watching him spar one day landed right in your lap and it was incredibly hard not to involuntarily scoot your leg further up from where it was draped over his thigh. 

He was so damn attractive it wasn’t fair. It made sense, the boxing, connecting why his shoulders were so defined, the tone in the muscles of his back, the power you knew he had behind those thick hands and even thicker thighs.

So sturdy and agile, age and old injuries just a reminder that every move was calculated for a reason. 

“That’s so cool. I bet it’s a good way to let off some steam too,” you rest your chin on the plush pillows of the sofa. Something had begun to shift, a slowly simmering tension working its way between your bodies. 

“Oh I can think of other things that would do that better.” 

The look on his face sends a wave of heat through you, straight to your core. 

“Like putting me over your knee?” 

It slipped from your lips on a whim but he was ready for it and you realized he’d been enticing you this whole time. 

“If that’s what you’d like then of course. Have you ever been spanked before, darling?”

You took a shallow breath, “Maybe once or twice it’s happened in the moment but no, not really, not properly like that. I-I think I’d actually enjoy it, um have you ever spanked anyone before?”

“I have.” 

He unclasped his hands to sit up next to you, eyes never leaving your face, keeping the intensity up, lighting every little flame inside you by the second. He knew exactly what he was doing and you were going to let every spark catch.

“Also impressive and yes, Alfred. I want your hands on me,” you sighed a soft plea. 

“C’mere then, I’ve got you.” He tugs you gently into a kiss and your fingers slide down over his wrists when they moved in to cup your face, touching you the way you wanted, so sure and thorough until he grasps for your hips, hungrier than you’d anticipated. 

He doesn’t waste time, your surprised little squeal making him smile when he moves to stand up and lifts you slightly by your hips, tipping you so you’d fall into him before he was transferring your weight so you were hauled over his shoulders, centered with such ease so that you felt balanced and stable now that you were off the ground. 

Your pulse thuds in your chest as you cling to him, those nervous giggles muffled against his back while he carries you to bed. 

—

The short walk down the hall made you feel jittery in the best way, a nervous excitement bubbling inside you knowing he was experienced with this, that he was going to show you and make it feel so good. You were sure he would. 

It’s almost crazy to be back in your room after all that’s happened today, how tense all the minutes bleeding into hours had been. 

But it could all be pushed to the background for a while, your attention locked into the moment as Alfred sat down on your bed, bringing you with him, your body positioned across his lap so prettily, angled so your legs were spread just slightly with the length of his left thigh keeping you supported. 

You stretched out your upper half on the duvet, propped up on your elbows to look back at him, watching as he pushed your leggings down, throwing them somewhere behind him on the bed before warm hands were caressing up your shins, over your thighs and up to the swell of your ass. 

His palm kneaded your flesh, strong fingers applying a teasing amount of pressure while you squirmed and arched back into his touch. 

“I’ll start slow, is that alright? Nothing too hard, just a few spanks to see what you can tolerate. If you don’t like it or aren’t sure, we don’t have to continue.” His hand moves in soothing circles across your skin and he leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder. 

“Yes, I’m okay with that.” you try and breathe. 

“Good, I want you to say the word red if you need to stop, yellow if you need to slow down and green to continue if I stop to check in. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” 

There’s a little authority in his voice and it made you squirm again, aroused by his establishment of cues and a safeword right away, how in charge he felt right now, you wanted this so badly it caught you by surprise. You hadn’t expected to be so needy for this.

Remembering that he was waiting for a reply you squeak out a yes and have to bite your lip to keep from gasping when he pulls his hand back and swats the center of your ass, more sound behind the movement than there was force but it still made you jolt forward. 

You groaned at the dull sting that prickled your skin after and glanced at Alfred who was already studying your reaction. 

“Well done, how did that feel?” he cooed praise at you and this time you don’t try to stop the sound you make in response. 

“Felt good, like what I was expecting but also different but I liked it, I want more.” your legs flexed when his hands smooth over your skin one more time, his pleased smirk at your declaration making heat pool in your lower back. 

You wished he would slip off your underwear too, so then he’d be able to see just how soaked you were from all this but you knew you had to be patient and the reward would be everything. 

You do take a second, however, to wiggle out of your sweater, starting to feel warm under the fleece lined fabric, and when you glanced back Alfred was admiring just as you thought he might be. 

No bra, nothing underneath but soft, brown skin for him to feel and just to entice him a little more, you arch your hips, making your ass jiggle, just enough to pull his steely gaze down your backside. 

The next spank is firmer than the first, more heaviness to his hand that made you whimper, your mind feeling a little hazy in the best way, the kind of haze that felt like a release, a soft bed to lay down on and surrender some control because you knew you’d be taken care of. 

Thwap! 

Whimpers and moaned out gasps mark the smack of his palm on each of your asscheeks, only a slight increase in the amount of force so that the sting just bordered on stealing your breath. 

“Christ, you’re so gorgeous like this, baby.”

His accent was deeper, that gruff voice sending tingles rippling across your spine, going down smooth like whiskey and followed by his left hand sliding over your back to rest on your right hip, making sure you couldn’t squirm away. 

He made each spank hurt in the most delightful way, alternating between right and left and then across both cheeks, spreading out the sensation, giving you a feel for which areas were more sensitive, which areas you liked being spanked at. 

“Oh, fuck!” breathy curses left your lips when he kept at it, precise hands giving you just the right amount of impact. 

“Good girl, you are doing so well. I think it’s time we take these off, hm?” he coaxes your hips up slightly so he can hook his fingers under the waistband of your panties and you’re all but begging him to. 

Nevermind if he felt like tearing them in two, you would have let him, but he’s polite in how he strips you despite the way you feel him stirring, hardening beneath where you lay. God, you wanted him so badly. 

“Please touch me, oh please,” you don’t even realize the words are coming from you.

In barely audible little pleas muffled by where your face is flush with the bed but Alfred doesn’t miss anything and he’s grinning in your peripheral. 

“You should see how soaked you are, love. Need my fingers there, is that right?” his fingers were already inching towards where you ached the most, his right hand circling, distracting you from being able to speak while preparing you for another spank. 

“Yes! Please, Alfred, I want it so much!” your whimper leaves both of you aching. 

A tremble in your thighs had spread down to your pointed toes with the way he swirled the pads of his index and middle fingers over the slick mess between your thighs.

Slow and sweet as he slid them over your folds and circled over your clit, waiting and then rewarded with the eventual roll and arch of your hips, his free hand drawing back and then coming down on heated skin. 

You gave a strangled cry, the sound turning into a moan when his fingers continued to circle your clit, responding to the way your body reacted, only taking his eyes off you for a moment when he finally put aside his self control to watch your pretty pussy swallow his thick fingers.

He worked you open gently, remembering how you liked him to move, where those sensitive spots were even at this new angle. 

Giving you something to clench around with his next spank, coaxing you to rock into his touch like he could see you wanted to do, the gorgeous sway of your hips trying to meet the plunge of his fingers, undeniably needy for him.

You knew he could hear it in the way you cried out his name, how sensitive your entire body was now, the broken, pleading edge to the way you praise him in return, telling him how good it felt, how much you’d been needing this. 

The pleasure built higher as did Alfred’s movements, a hiss at the edge of your words at each searing swat of his hands that mixed with the scissoring of his fingers, both working in careful, measured tandem. 

“That’s my girl, come on, that’s it!” he grits out when you push up onto your elbows again and grind your hips back. 

The passion and possession in the way he called you his merged with the curving of his fingers and you both know you’re there, tender walls fluttering as you come, thighs aching, your whole body tingling, trembling with the steady roll of his wrist keeping the pleasure drawn out, filling your entire body. 

You’re not embarrassed by the tears that prick your eyes or the sob in your throat that follow when he finally flips you over, laying you back because you’d begged for him to and who was he to refuse you, an angel.

If you wanted his face between your thighs, eating your dripping pussy until you were too sensitive to take it, that’s exactly what he’d give you and it’s why you weren’t shy, not in this moment, not when you knew he wanted it just as much as you. 

Soft hands disturb the careful style of Alfred’s hair, unable to help it when his tongue licks you and the salt and pepper scruff scratches achingly over your inner thighs, daring you to try and close them.

Not like you’d want to, able to see how his shoulders curved and bulged with the stretch of his shirt as he kept your legs parted with his body. 

This was everything you had wanted, moaning at the way he consumed you so lovingly, a weight in his touch and in his encouraging, filthy words that told you he wasn’t holding back now, you were his girl, he could show you the more true depth of his desire now.

And you were safe to do the same, you craved it actually, always wanting this and you reason you have this entire time, craving this level of care and need, even obsession with each other, so much trust and feelings at the center of it. 

“So good, baby. Just like that, please…” you barely get the words out, lungs losing air from the focus he gave to your words even before you finished speaking. 

His hands didn’t stay idle, the grip of his hands over your body like he wanted to memorize the feel of you, the way you dipped and curved and stretched and it drove you wild, the wet suction of his mouth the only thing your mind could focus on. 

It’s a wonder you can even move when he finally withdraws his mouth from your puffy lips, turning his still hungry and devoted gaze towards your chest, those stiff peaks he’d been neglecting through all this, but no longer. 

You squirmed into the flick of his tongue, the way he kissed your skin and praised and nipped and got his lips on every inch of skin that he could while you just laid back and relaxed, recovered from the orgasm still twitching in the muscles of your arms, your thighs, your tummy. 

“Just look at you. Fuck, I am so lucky,” he rumbles against your collar and you wrap your arms around him, curled against him.

“I feel exactly the same way.”

His soft huff of breath against your neck tickled and you snake your legs around him, hoping to keep him close, just wanting to be in his arms and under his body for as long as you could. 

You’d take forever, and that was all you needed to know.

The Shoreline Lofts

November 27 

12:00 a.m.

The Batman was watching. Unblinking and focused, planted in place but ready for anything that might come. Folding himself into the inky cloak of the midnight hour. 

The Iceberg Lounge was directly beneath the loft space but that wasn’t why Bruce had come tonight.

No, he was far more interested in what Penguin got up to in private, without guests and dancers and clients around, what secrets or clues might be yielded if he just sat and watched, surveilled for a while. 

He was curious why the man you had recognized from the news was connected to Scarecrow and he didn’t believe for a moment that Oz wasn’t keeping tabs on what his men were doing, he had to have known the attack was going to happen. 

Motives were unclear but pieces of this horrid puzzle were starting to come together so Bruce  wouldn’t rest until he could see the grand picture for what it was. 

He tipped the binoculars back up to the blackened edges of his cowl, zeroing in again on where Oz was playing pool, unaware a shadow sat spying through the skylight. 

The building’s layout was already scoped out, every entry point found, tested, and memorized. Now Bruce would wait and watch until Penguin left the loft to slip in and see what he could find. 

Gordon needed intel, something to go on after grasping for dead end’s, there was no time to sit on things, not after what he’d seen today. 

Not after you and Alfred were almost hurt and especially not after he’d seen what the toxin did to people, recognizing the look of anguish in their eyes like his own reflection.

A waking nightmare was no stranger to Bruce so he’d make sure of this, Scarecrow would be made to answer.

A/N: It’s been so long and I have missed writing for Alfred and I’m really surprised and proud of what I wrote here! Went through a lot of emotions trying to get this on the page and there was a lot of self doubt and anxiety and unfairly beating myself up about things not coming together but here we are and I just really love that I pushed through and had fun putting this all together in the end 💕 We stan protective Alfred! Like if that’s not a whole husband right there!

Thanks for giving this a read!

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give me your thoughts x the gif isn’t mine, divider by @newlips

warning - angst

You watch as Alfred is distracted by Selina’s mum, you don’t know her name, nor do you care. You sip your wine, and your gaze moves over to your brother Bruce, and you see he’s already staring at you with sad eyes, Selina as well. You give them a small smile, feeling as though you’ll break if you try and widen them even more. You clear your throat before getting up, looking at everyone with a fake smile. “Well, I’m off to bed. I hope everyone has a good night.” You grab your glass and bid everyone goodnight before walking off to your bedroom, and you turn the light on. You blink the tears away before heading to your bathroom. You set your glass down and turn the taps on for the bath, and begin to undress.

You strip from your tight clothes, grab your glass of wine and slide down into the boiling water. You sigh and lean your head back, closing your eyes and relaxing. You sip the liquid and rub your forehead with the other hand. Your thoughts were racing. All you could think about was Alfred, causing a headache to form. Your hand moves down, and you run it through the bubbles. You try and let everything go.

You hear footsteps heading toward the bathroom, followed by a knock. You hum a ‘yeah’, and Alfred steps through, his eyes cast somewhere other than the bathtub. “Is there anything you need, miss?”

Your eyes drift up and down his figure, “No, I’m fine, Alfred. Thank you, you may take some time off for the night.” You give him a soft smile as his eyes meet yours before you cast your eyes to face the wall before you, feeling it hurt too much to look at him.

“Very well, and thank you, miss. Goodnight.” He nods, giving you a smile before heading out of the bathroom. He hears you whisper a soft, “Goodnight, Alfred.” Before he closes the door and waits there for a second, he hears a small sob escape your lips, and he desperately wants to open the door and scoop you up into his arms, but he finds that thought and action inappropriate. You’re younger than him, and you’re also his boss. Alfred walks away with so much restraint.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#imyourbratzdollwork #alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth fanfic #alfred pennyworth fanfiction #alfred pennyworth fic #alfred pennyworth fandom #alfred pennyworth angst #alfred pennyworth au #alfred pennyworth imagine #alfred pennyworth imagines #alfred pennyworth oneshot #alfred pennyworth one shot #alfred pennyworth x you #alfred pennyworth x reader #gotham #gotham fandom #gotham fanfic #gotham fanfiction

[fishfission-dc]

Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 10: Alfred)

<<Part 9: Barbara 

[Masterlist]

Alfred: Actually, I have prepared something I would like you all to see.

Bruce: Oh lord...

[collective sigh]

Alfred: I have noticed that many of you are electing not to return used dishes to their proper location to be washed. 

Barbara: Oooh... that one’s on me, sorry Alfred.

Alfred: Miss Gordon, I trust you not to spill anything on the computer console, but I still think it best not to have open beverages in the presence of... other company.

Dick: Is he talking about-

Tim: Yeah he’s talking about us.

Bruce: Hn.

Steph: Only Bruce does this, Alfred, I promise.

Alfred: I am well aware, Miss Brown. 

Bruce: ...sorry.

Duke: How do you not spill anything using mugs in the Batmobile?

Cass: (signing) Impressive.

Jason: Okay, this one has to be Dick.

Dick: ...That’s probably me.

Tim: A teacup? A teacup and its saucer??

Dick: I was already drinking it at the time-

Alfred: Just bring it back next time.

Steph: HA

Damian: ...They like the-

Alfred: I highly doubt the dogs have a preference of plates.

Damian: ...understood.

Jason: WHICH ONE OF YOU-

Tim: STEPH. STEPH THAT IS YOUR BELT.

Steph: I CAN EXPLAIN

Barbara: Steph why is a mug in your-

Steph: I BRING THE MUGS HOME AND I PUT THEM IN MY BELT TO REMEMBER TO BRING THEM BACK TO ALFRED BUT THEN I FORGET

Duke: How many mugs are in your belt right now? 

Steph: ...

Dick: Steph.

Steph: A couple...

Alfred: Three. I checked twenty minutes ago.

Steph: ...Sorry Alfred.

Tim: ...Okay-

Dick: Tim. How on Earth-

Steph: HOW IS THIS ANY WORSE THAN ME KEEPING MUGS IN MY BELT

Tim: Sometimes I save time by eating in the shower!

Jason: That is like... a family sized tupperware container.

Damian: Drake, this is no longer efficiency, it is insanity. 

Tim: ...Sorry Alfred.

Bruce: ...how-

Barbara: Cass... Cass this has to be you.

Cass: (signing) ...Sorry.

Steph: Honestly I’m not surprised by this.

Duke: Are we not concerned that Alfred’s been repeatedly climbing into the rafters to collect these dishes?

Alfred: Oh it’s not the furthest length I’ve gone for you all...

Bruce: I may have left a serving dish at the Kents’ apartment in Metropolis, I apologize.

Tim: I don’t think I left anything in San Francisco... or Nanda Parbat.

Dick: TAMARAN?! I’m probably responsible for New York and Bludhaven, but that one was NOT me.

Jason: Ooooh, yeah... uh... that was probably me...

Steph: You left a tupperware container on Tamaran?!

Jason: And maybe... other places... I keep forgetting to bring them home.

Damian: How many of these locations are you responsible for, Todd?

Jason: Uh... definitely Star City and Tamaran... and Miami... Paris... and Washington, Hong Kong... maybe also Nanda Parbat. Oh, and I definitely left a cup in San Francisco...

Barbara: Oh my god.

Jason: ...Sorry Alf. Won’t happen again.

Alfred: I’m glad you appreciate the leftovers, Master Jason, but yes, please return the dishware.

Duke: Oh that’s definitely my bad... Sorry Alfred.

Alfred: It’s alright, my dear boy, you didn’t know.

Bruce: ...how long has that been the system?

Dick: Probably not long... I definitely didn’t do that as a kid...

Jason: Definitely changed while I was dead...

Alfred: That has been the system for 42 years, I would appreciate if all of you started adhering to it.

[a chorus of “Sorry, Alfred” as they retrieve their dishes, thus ending Powerpoint Night. The end.]

<<Part 9: Barbara

[Masterlist]

#batfamily powerpoint au #IT IS FINALLY FINISHED #don't worry about how long it took me #it's fine #this is basically just a fanfic at this point #thank you all for giving these dumb powerpoints so much love #more fun ideas in the works (that are not powerpoint related) #batfam #bruce wayne #batman #dc #dc comics #batkids #dc robin #dick grayson #jason todd #barbara gordon #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #tim drake #cassandra cain #duke thomas #stephanie brown

[superbat-love]

Bruce: Ughhh… Close the curtains.

Alfred: Good morning, Master Bruce. Breakfast is ready.

Bruce: Get that sun away from me.

Alfred: I believe Mr Kent would want otherwise.

Bruce: [glares at the man sleeping beside him] Damn Superman with his solar battery and his stupidly perfect hair.

Alfred: I heard that the bedhead look is in style this season, Master Bruce. Aren’t you pleased that you have an au naturel bat ears hairstyle?

Bruce: Very funny, Alfred. [Sits in silence for a moment] Maybe I should really consider shaving it all off.

Clark: NO DON’T!

#bruce is not a morning person #incorrect dc quotes #dc headcanon #dc fanfic #drabble #text post #superbat #dc #superman x batman #batman x superman #superman/batman #batman/superman #superman #batman #clark kent #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth

[the-purple-possum]

You know something?

I want to headcanon that Bruce has spent so much time around Alfred that he accidentally uses British insults and terminology.

For instance, he's at a gala, hes having a conversation, and the person says something so infuriating that he calls them a Pillock, and since its America, everyone just stops and looks very confused.

Dick finds this hillarious, until he starts doing it too. He'll accidentally ask someone for a 'rubber' and everyone looks horrorfied.

Tim has learnt from Dick's mistakes, he phases out the English terms, except every now and then he says a word with a very posh English accent. Mostly words he's heard Alfred say a lot, such as 'dinner', and he has to stop and resound that word until it sounds right.

Jason on the other hand, he comes back to Dick slipping all over the place, he finds it hillarious, especially as he tried to fight Nightwing, and out of nowhere he hears the word 'twat'. He can't take it seriously. He doesn't even know where Dick heard it, especially as Alfred never swears.

#batman #the batman #batman and robin #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #alfred pennyworth #really dumb things i think about when i should be studying #it just seems realistic that they would pick up the different dialect #totally isnt an excude for me to use my own dialect in fanfics #totally isnt payback for all the uncomfortable americanisms in my Sherlock fics 3 years ago #we love Alfred in this household #he is a cherrished butler

[zylev-blog]

Alfred had a secret. Before he joined the British Special Forces, he had been young and dumb and got a girl pregnant. He didn’t want anything to do with the baby, and left the girl without any contact info.

Thirty years later, Alfred gets a strange letter in the mail. It’s addressed to him. As soon as he picks it up, he gasps as the letter draws blood from his thumb. Right before his eyes, words began to appear on the previously blank paper.

Dear Alfred,

By the time you read this, I will be dead. It’s time to put those old skills of yours to the test, old man.

The note isn’t signed, and Alfred has no idea who even sent it. A usb drive falls into his hand from inside the note, making him even more confused. He was positive that note was flat paper, so how did a usb drive fit inside it? Then again, how does paper purposely draw blood and write in front of him?

On the usb drive he learns everything he needs to know about his son, Danny. Supposedly, the man had also joined the British Special Forces. But Danny quickly learned skills that he didn’t, and had stumbled into a conspiracy far bigger than anything he or Bruce had ever seen.

Alfred had a decision to make, but it wasn’t a hard one. He told Bruce about the letter and the usb drive, and Bruce decided to get involved.

A branch of the government had opened a portal to another dimension and had been kidnapping its inhabitants. Danny had been working for years to stop them with very little success. Seemed like the Justice League had a new mission.

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc writing prompt #dp dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom crossover #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #Alfred is Danny’s father #is Danny really dead? #who knows #not me #GiW started in Britain #alfred pennyworth

[flamingpudding]

Part 5 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

For those that ask, yes an AO3 link is in the works. I will post it once its ready. Also fair warning, I will be focusing on DPxDC Family Week now so I have no idea when the next part will be up.

<<1 Previous Next

Thrill and chirp brother

Tim sipped on his n-th cup of specially made Tim-brand-not-Alfred-approved coffee as he shuffled into the dinning room and sat down on the breakfast table. The moment he sat down he opened the laptop again and stared at its screen for a couple of seconds. The scan of the post-it note got nothing. None of the squiggles was recognised in any of the so far known languages. Hell he even ran it through the leagues recordings of interdimensional and interplanetary known languages. No hits so far. Right now he was running a picture recognition program to see if any of these had appeared before it was on 90% with nothing found so far.

Good he hoped this really was just a prank from Cass and Steph. Because if it wasn't, Bruce would go nuts and overly paranoid as well as up the entire Manors security system a third time this month. Sadly, despite his hope, Tim knew that it wasn't a prank.

A cough resounded behind him and Tim blinked two times before sighting, closing the laptop and pushing it only a couple of inches away from him as Alfred put a plate with his breakfast before him. Knowing Alfreds rules about work at the table he would better not touch it again for now.

"Replacement, you look like the dead walking. Did you even sleep last night?" He glared at his brother before he blinked taking in his surroundings before his eyes rested on little Danny.

Tim could see that all of them, despite barely knowing the kid for a couple of hours, had already become attached to Danny. It didn't help that they had discovered Lichtenberg scarring running up Danny's left arm all the way to where his heart was after the child had finally let Damien take care of him. Hell Tim wanted to know who would give a child, a once dead then revived one, scares like that. If Talia had let the kid go through some sort of experimentation…. Well Tim knew where the explosives were stored and by the looks of it he probably could count on Jason's as well as Dick's help to blow up a league facility.

Either way Damien had become very protective of the child. The scarring didn't help calming that protectiveness either. In fact he was pretty sure it steered it more in the rest of them too. Also the fact that Danny spat out glowing Lazarus Water once they managed to wrangle the kid off Jason last night wasn't calming down a different kind of worry anytime soon either. No, it was another factor next to the scarring that spoke for the League having experimented on the poor child. He probably should start investing more time into what sort of facilities the League had built or was using lately.

On a good note, thankfully Danny had let up on Jason after he spat out the green goop and thanks to the fact that he apparently recognised Damien, let said teenager manhandle -cough- take care of the little biter for the rest of the night. It also seemed like the little guys biting obsession with Jason had calmed down, for now. He didn't trust the calm, especially not with the way Danny was still focused on his second oldest brother. Though everyone except for the demon brat was still getting the hissing treatment. Considering his theory that the League probably used the revived child to experiment with Lazarus Water, it wasn't that much of a surprise. Anyone would be feral after being subjected to experiments.

Thankfully it looked that whatever Pit Madness had overcome the child last night was not reacting towards them. But as he watched Dick trying really hard not to pout at Damien who had Danny in his lap in a protective hold, he wondered how long that would hold. Jason sat as far away from Danny and Damien as he could, probably because of the way the child was watching him with glowing blue eyes while munching on whatever food Damien gave to the little biter.

He could also see the reason for Dick's pouting as the elder reached out to attempt to ruffle Danny's hair but the child instantly snapped his head in their eldest brother's direction, hissing, bearing his teeth and even snapping at the air until Dick withdrew said hand again. A pout very evidently on his face. Like a switch flipped the child's focus would then redirect to watching Jason like a hawk again and munching on the food the Demon brat gave him.

At least he was the bitey type that would hiss as warning and not the stabby kind without warning like Damien.

"Yo, anyone at home up there?"

Turning his focus back to his second oldest brother Tim glared at him once more. "If you have to know. Yes I did sleep last night."

"More than one hour?" Dick asked next and Tim refused to look at the eldest. He was not going to answer that. He had coffee, who needed sleep when you have coffee. Besides, he was a perfectly functioning human being even with minimal amounts of sleep. He had not face planted his breakfast for three days now.

"What got you so obsessed that you didn't sleep, Drake? Another case? Or did you try to find out more from the League in regards to Danyal's scars?"

"That too but mostly the post-it note." He finally answered after stewing a little longer under the stares of his siblings. "Neither our nor the JL's language recognition programs got a hit and right now I am running a picture recognition to see if there ever was any kind of writing like that found before but it ran up to 90% before I came down and hadn't found anything like that before. And-"

"Slow down there Timber. I thought that's just a prank from Cass and Steph?" Dick interrupted him and Tim suppressed a groan.

"It couldn't be. I wish it was but both of them weren't in the Manor last night and I don't think Duke would do something like this so-"

"Hold up." Jason cut in and Tim glowered at them for getting interrupted again.

"What do you mean no language recognition program got a hit?"

"It means that there is no languages to translate-"

"Why would you need that? Yea its cryptic as fuck but its clearly written out!"

"Jason what are you talking about?" He opened his laptop again, turning the screen so it was facing Jason. "These are squiggles! How is it readable?!"

"The fuck you talking about?! Don't tell me your sleep deprived mind doesn't know how to read anymore?"

"Jason what does it say in your eyes?" Dick carefully cut in before Tim could question the other any more.

"'The daylight knight will tell the truth with eyes that see the light'. See cryptic as fuck." The older gesticulated towards Tim's laptop screen while Damien raised an eyebrow at him.

"The what now, will tell what?" Dick asked confusedly while Tim turned the laptop back towards him noting down what Jason just said. He was confused as to why Jason was able to read the squiggles but at least that gave him some kind of hint about the post-it. Aside from adding more questions to the already growing pile.

Suddenly a thrilling noise echoed in the room and the four looked at Danny. The child's now green eyes were focused on Jason. Tim could see Damiens hold tightening and Dick tensing when they noticed the green. Danny repeated the same nose he made earlier, still intensely staring at Jason.

"Who the fuck is clockwork?"

The green fated and Danny made a similar noise to chirping, his head tilting in confusion.

"The fuck you mean you don't know? You just said that Clockwork wrote the note?!"

"Todd. Did you just understand the noise Danyal was making?"

Once again the three of them stared at Jason who looked at them confused. "You didn't?"

They shake their heads and Jason let out a frustrated groan as he sat back down his head in his hands. "What did you assholes hear just now?"

"Danyal made some kind of thrilling, then chirping noise."

"Well I heard him say that someone named Clockwork wrote the note and then he said all confused that he doesn't know who Clockwork is." He looked at them frustrated. "Why do I hear the kid speak and you guys don't. You're his fucking twin, right? Shouldn't you know what the brat is saying?"

Damien glowered at their brother offended but didn't retort anything. Tim did see a hint of frustration with their formerly youngest and he could guess. Damien was most likely frustrated about the fact that Jason understood his twin's noises and he didn't. The only thing stopping him from possibly hurling the breakfast knife at Jasons, was most likely his hold on Danny.

Tim also thought about the fact for a while until it suddenly hit him. He looked up and made eye contact with Dick who most likely came to the same conclusion. The two turned towards their siblings.

"The Lazarus Water." Tim carefully offered, watching Jason and Damien tensed slightly.

"What about it?" The second oldest scoffed, turning his attention towards them.

"That's what you two have in common. Both of you got revived and came back through a Lazarus Pit. You still have the Pit in your mind right? And Danny most likely also has a lot of it in his system. It even mixed with his DNA."

After a beat of silence Jason let out a hearty groan. "Fuck. So because of the Pit I understand thrill and chirps now? Just fucking great!"

"Probably can speak it too if you try. That would be pretty cute. Come on, say something in a chirp!" Leave it to Dick to try to lighten the mood, though the glare Jason sent the eldest did make Tim hide a chuckle. He had to admit imaging Jason talking in chirps was a funny image. Should his brother ever do that he would need to make sure to take a video for his black mail folder.

"I will fucking not!"

"Come on, don't you want to communicate properly with our little teethling here?"

"Fuck off Dick!"

"You have to try it Jaybird! For little teethling!"

"Richard." Damien warned but Tim could only snicker as he watched Dick reach out to pat the kids head carelessly, apparently not hearing the warning nor hissing as the elder was too engrossed in convincing Jason to talk in chirp.

Dick let out a shriek of pain.

"Ha! Not so fun getting bitten is it now?" Jason laughed gloating with the fact that for once he was not the biting target.

Tim winched the moment he saw Danny clamp down with his sharp teeth on Dick's hand. Damien was instantly scowling both of them but the little biter refused to let go. He saw Alfred approaching the three and instantly stood up from his chair with a warning on the tip of his tongue as the butler reached out towards Danny.

"Master Danyal." Stunned and frozen the four brothers watched how the butler fearlessly patted the child's head who only let out a small hiss in acknowledgement, teeth still digging into the eldest brother's hand. "I request you let go of Master Dick's hand. I fear it will not taste as well as this snack I have prepared for you."

In an instant Danny let go and chirped, turning his attention towards Alfred who was still patting the child's head without getting hissed at or being in risk of getting bitten. Damien even let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you Pennyworth."

Dick was now cradling his hand, pouting and mumbling something about unfairness at the three as Jason laughed. Tim too couldn't help but chuckle, of course Alfred somehow became an exception towards Danny's biteyness.

It was at that moment that Duke entered the room, took one look at them, blinked, rubbed his eyes and then turned around and left again muttering something about it being too bright and early for any of this.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #damian wayne #tim drake #richard grayson #dick grayson #jason todd #duke thomas #danny and damian are twins #de aged danny #dp x dc #fanfic #feral danny #dc x dp #crossover #alfred pennyworth #unedited #no beta wie die like danny #Tim might blow a facility up again #clockwork #jason speaks ghost #Danny still wants to bite Jaosn #he bites anyone that gets to close #except for Damien and Alfred #Ghost Kid in Gotham #dpxdc

[atlas-likes-writing]

Alfred is a ghost, and noone in the batfamily has realised it yet.

He makes it frightfully obvious. He'd thought that a family full of detectives would be able to figure out, yet after about 70 years they still haven't questioned the drop in temperature whenever he's nearby.

Nobody questions it when Alfred manages to walk into a room full of detectives and not be seen or heard until he's directly behind them.

Nobody questions why they have no pictures of Alfred on the walls.

Nobody questions why none of them have seen Alfred eat or drink anything. They all assume he does it in the privacy of his own room.

Nobody questions it when Alfred can recall information from the 1890s with pinpoint accuracy, despite "being born in the 30s."

As a family full of detectives, these guys need to really step up their game.

Masterlist

#dc fanfic #dc #batfamily #gotham #alfred pennyworth #dc comics #batman #jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #red robin #tim drake #damian wayne #robin

[rococo444]

putting out the bat signal for fic finders on ao3:

tim after failing to convince dick to be robin or bruce to take him on, decides to kill the joker himself (and intimidates many rogues in the process)

Bruce is immediately suspicious of him and proceeds to traumatize this small child for the next few years until Jason returns

Jason, finding that this small child killed his murderer at the tender age of 7-10 (not sure) and has been relentlessly hunted by Batman ever since, immediately becomes protector to tim

Eventually dick and Alfred also join this team and last I recall they were all camping out in a penthouse, leaving Bruce isolated in the manor

Might be deleted? I hope not but the Tim Kills the Joker tag on ao3 is not long and I have looked

#fic finder #batman #batfam #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dcu #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #dc universe #find fic #fanfic #find fanfic #fanfic finder #fanfiction finder

[stargirlfics]

The Gentleman Fic Series Masterlist

an Alfred Pennyworth x Black Dancer!Reader story

Series Summary: Two chance encounters turn into something quite unexpected the longer you spend around a certain Englishman

Series Warnings: 18+ ONLY, set after the events of The Batman film, age gap - reader is mid/late 20’s or 30’s (up to your preference), mentions of stalking/being followed, canon typical violence, death, protective!Alfred, fluff + angst, smut: PiV, oral (both receiving), light bondage later in series, Alfred is a soft dom in this! Light impact play, light choking kink and daddy kink later in series

*reader is written as and described as black in this but anyone is welcome and encouraged to read!

[Series Playlist]

Chapter One - The Gentleman

Chapter Two - Sugar Plum

Chapter Three - After Hours

Chapter Four - Do I Wanna Know?

Chapter Five - Éclosion

Chapter Six - Tremble

Chapter Seven - This Heart of Mine — coming soon!

#amalia writes #the batman!alfred pennyworth #the batman 2022 #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred pennyworth x black reader #alfred pennyworth x you #alfred pennyworth x woc #alfred pennyworth smut #alfred pennyworth fluff #tb!alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth imagine #alfred pennyworth fanfiction #alfred pennyworth x fem!reader #alfred pennyworth angst #alfred pennyworth fanfic #alfred pennyworth

[ichimerapunk]

I’m kind of surprised I haven’t seen any fanfics that run on the idea that Alfred is a ghost? (Either as like the main focus of the story, or just a subplot.)

Think about it.

A lot of stories kind of have Alfred as being this eternally elderly man regardless of how old everyone else in the story is. The man doesn’t seem to age!

More importantly, where does he get the time and energy to do all the stuff he does to keep the manor and the family functional? He somehow manages to keep the giant house that is the Wayne Manor in order despite how many people live there plus his added duties thanks to the family’s vigilante lifestyle? When exactly does this man sleep? Also, I always find it amusing how in stories Alfred seems to always be cooking but it’s rare to actually show him eating himself.

What if someone plays with the idea of him not needing to sleep, eat, etc. because he is a ghost?

I just kind of imagine the idea of Alfred getting up one morning to start the day and nothing seems amiss either to himself or the rest of the family; however, when he retires to his quarters for the night he discovers his body laying still and cold where he had left it. (Could you imagine him, after coming to accept he is a ghost, just… getting rid of his own body and going about life as usual and never telling anyone in the family?)

Maybe I just find the idea of Alfred, rather than passing on, just continuing to take care of his family like nothing has changed touching, if in a morbid way.

The idea could, technically, be construed as the rest of the family not paying Alfred any mind or taking him for granted so much they don’t notice he died, but in my head its more of a fluffy/humorous thing where Alfred is just very good at hiding his ghostly nature from anyone.

This story idea doesn’t even have to necessarily be a Danny Phantom crossover. It’s just that this fanfic idea was spawned out of this brief scene idea of Danny coming to live at the manor (insert any other story plot as to why), and both Alfred and Danny clocking each other immediately. (The idea included Danny fretting over asking Alfred about it but being afraid Alfred might not know he’s dead, and Alfred noting Danny is half-ghost but his only concern is that anyone living under his roof is cared for.

(If I didn't already have a dozen or more story ideas sitting in folders not yet completed, I'd kind of want to brainstorm on this more because I think its a cool concept?)

#batman fanfic idea #batman facfic plot bunny #Alfred Pennyworth #Alfred Is a ghost #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc fanfic idea #dp x dc plot bunny

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Snapdragon - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Snapdragon (Antirrhinum) - Meaning: Presumption, deception

Summary: Reader thinks her boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, is cheating on her. Bruce tries to figure out how to tell her about his nighttime activities.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1864

Warnings: Suspected infidelity, angst, discussion of insecurities, a little bit of gaslighting/misdirection from Bruce, Alfred is a sassy bitch, Bruce is a mopey bastard, cliffhanger ending

Day 12 takes a sharp turn back into angst! I wrote this with the Christian Bale Batman and Michael Caine Alfred in mind, but use any Batman/Alfred you fancy. Also, sorry for the cliffhanger.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are incredibly appreciated! ❤️

Bruce was cheating on you, you knew it. He hadn’t spent the night at your place in weeks, was texting you back at odd hours at night, and whenever you did manage to pin him down for a date he seemed disengaged, preoccupied, like he would rather be elsewhere. 

Dating Gotham’s Prince was difficult enough as it was, press following you everywhere and your face showing up in supermarket tabloids — you were just a regular person, you didn’t come from money or rub elbows with Gotham’s social elite, you had a regular boring desk job to pay the bills. 

You met Bruce by accident one day when you were on your way into work. You weren’t paying attention and almost walked into oncoming traffic, but Bruce had caught your arm just as you stepped off the curb, spilling your coffee. You’d turned, ready to give him such a tongue-lashing, but a motorcyclist zipped by at an ungodly speed right where you’d been about to step. Bruce then offered to replace your coffee and escort you to the office (“For your own safety,” he’d insisted with a  devilish smirk that you couldn’t say no to). 

You’d been dating ever since, almost a year now, which surprised most of the press. Numerous gossip sites were speculating about how you’d managed to keep Bruce’s interest for that long, but you’d learned to tune all their shit out. 

The insecurity you felt now stemmed from Bruce’s own behavior, not the latest expulsion of bile from the gossipmongers online. You’d texted Bruce to meet you at your place after work, only receiving a thumbs-up emoji back. 

You weren’t worth a real response. You weren’t worth his honesty. You weren’t worth him.

Shaking that insidious voice out of your head, you decided you needed a drink. In the middle of pouring yourself a glass of wine (box wine, another reminder of the insurmountable differences between you and Bruce) a knock sounded at the door. 

Looking through the peep hole, you saw a large bouquet of flowers held in front of a tired-looking Bruce. You opened the door and let him in, accepting the flowers and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” Bruce said, lingering near your cheek and stepping closer, putting his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You tensed in his grasp, and he immediately let go, lifting your chin with a finger so you had to look him in the eye. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

Looking into his baby blues was a little too much to handle, so you simply nodded and moved away from him. 

“Yeah, just gonna get these in water,” you said, lifting the bouquet slightly. Fishing the one vase you owned out of the cupboard, you filled it at the sink. Bruce followed your movements, hands in his pants pockets while he watched. 

“I’ve only got a few minutes, unfortunately, but I was hoping you were free this Friday for a proper date,” he offered, smiling in his charming way. You only hummed your response, focusing on rearranging the flowers so they looked nice in the vase.

You had a speech prepared, known exactly what you wanted to say to him to get him to confess that he was cheating. Now that he was here, however, your well-formulated hypothesis was harder and harder to grasp. Like smoke, it dissipated the more you tried to catch it. 

“You sure everything’s okay? You seem tense,” Bruce observed. That was your cue, and you knew you had to take it before he got any closer. Once he had his hands on you, every rational thought would flee and you’d be at his mercy. 

“Are you cheating on me?” you asked, fighting to keep your composure. You’d never been good at confrontation, so you figured the best way to handle this was firm, direct, like ripping off a band-aid. You tried to put on a confident air even though your insides were practically liquifying with nerves. 

Bruce sighed, “We talked about this, you can’t believe anything you read on those sites. They’re just in it for the clicks-”

“I’m not-! I didn’t get it off the internet, it’s just…you’ve been distant lately, and I can’t think of any explanation other than you found someone more…in your league,” you explained, wrapping your arms around you in an effort to comfort yourself. The insecurities you felt earlier were slipping into your words, despite your best efforts to shove them aside.

Bruce softened, took a step toward where you were standing in your kitchen. When you didn’t flinch away, he laid his hands on your shoulders. “Babe, you are in my league. Hell, you’re way above my league, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” 

“I don’t either,” you said, “but this isn’t coming from an external source, it’s what I’ve noticed when it’s just the two of us. You seem distracted, like you don’t want to be in the moment with me. And it’s a rare occurrence that you text me back before midnight, if at all.” 

Bruce’s hands stroked down your arms, warming your skin. He leaned down into your eye line. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know you were feeling that way, I’ll be better about being present with you, I promise. There’s just been a lot going on at work and it’s been…busy, I’ve been busy, you know?” 

You nodded, “I know.” 

“But,” he said, unhooking your hands from where they’d been holding your elbows, “Now that I know, we can fix it. I’m gonna do better. Thank you for telling me.” 

You let him unfold your arms and bring them up around his shoulders, resting them there and bringing his hands to your lower back. He kept his grasp loose until, against your better judgment, you tightened your arms and pulled him into a hug. He returned your embrace, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

When he held you like this it was easy, too easy, to forget your stupid insecurities and let yourself trust him. In his embrace, every imperfection you nitpicked about yourself ceased to exist. He was a safe space — well, until recently. 

Bruce said your name quietly to get your attention. You looked up at him. 

“I love you,” he said, the look on his face betraying the heartbreaking truth of his statement. 

You pushed up on your toes and kissed his lips quickly — any slower and you’d completely melt into him. 

“I love you too, Bruce.” 

________

Later that night…

Bruce was well and truly fucked. He’d known it was only a matter of time before you noticed his odd behavior, the late hours, the preoccupation and distractibility. Fuck! 

He and Alfred had rules, dammit, and he should’ve followed them. 

No more than five dates or two months, whichever comes first. 

They’re never allowed to roam the house unsupervised. 

Most importantly, keep feelings out of it. Sex and companionship, nothing more and nothing less. 

But it was different with you. You’d…surprised him, which he didn’t think was possible anymore. You were funny and gorgeous — not his usual type, but still enchanting — and a little spiky, which only intrigued him more. For the first time, Bruce wanted to get to know someone on a deeper level. Maybe it was age, or he was finally ready to admit he wasn’t an island, or maybe he was just sick of the endless line of vapid, waifish model-types he usually dated, but whatever the reason you came into his life at exactly the right time and you were…perfect. 

What was the old saying, nothing good can stay? The truth of that statement weighed on him as he pulled off the suit, tossing the pieces haphazardly all over the cave, leaving a trail to where he eventually settled in his computer chair. 

“Y’know, sir, while kevlar is good at stopping bullets it does rather badly when left unattended on a damp cave floor,” Alfred scolded gently, bending to pick up the pieces of Batman. Bruce only grunted at his butler, pulling up the dossier he’d been preparing on the Joker. The last few weeks it looked like the psychopath had reemerged, which is why he’d been so preoccupied. Gotham barely survived the last scrape with that psychopath, so Batman had been doggedly hunting him after the sun went down. 

“Did you stop by her place, then?” Alfred asked, referring to you. “She seemed rather insistent on it.”

Bruce paused, then sighed and turned to face Alfred. “She thinks I’m cheating on her.” 

“Not exactly an incorrect assumption,” Alfred joked. Bruce flashed him a glare, but the butler didn’t notice. “Well, we knew this was coming didn’t we? Once you started breaking the rules for her, it was only a matter of time.” 

Bruce internally groaned, not wanting to admit Alfred was right. “I just wish I knew what to do. She’s the first person in a long time that I’ve actually wanted to have around. Present company excluded, of course.” 

“Of course, sir,” Alfred said. “You’ve arrived at a crossroads, if you don’t mind me saying. You either tell her, or you don’t.” 

“How do I know if I should tell her?” 

“That answer lies in how much you trust her to keep your secret.” 

“And how do I know that I won’t lose her even if I tell her?” Bruce asked, voicing his biggest fear. Painting a target on your back as well as his, and then being shoved out of your life. 

Alfred laid a comforting hand on Bruce’s shoulder, like he always did when sharing a hard life lesson. “You don’t, Master Wayne.” 

The hand left his shoulder and Bruce turned back around, each man now going about their usual business. A few quick incident reports later Bruce made his way upstairs to his bedroom, hoping with how tired his body was that sleep would claim him quickly. 

No such luck.

Instead, he tossed and turned, going over every possible outcome of the inevitable conversation.

Option 1: He tells you about Batman, you accept it, and the two of you make it work. This, of course, was the ideal scenario so he knew that wouldn’t be the outcome. Nothing in his life worked out ideally. 

Option 2: He tells you about Batman, you freak out and break up with him, and you become a huge liability. Giving you that knowledge would be like handing you a grenade with the pin pulled out — if you held onto it, you were both safe, but if you let go…Kaboom. And how long could you hold onto a secret that big, that dangerous?

The last option was that he doesn’t tell you, you continue to assume he’s cheating on you, and you break up with him eventually. He loses you, but you remain unaware and therefore safe — from his enemies, from prosecution, from whatever else came from being Batman's girlfriend. 

Around three in the morning Bruce’s mind was made up, his next steps planned, and resolve steely, but he waited until half-past five (a more normal wake-up time) to text you. 

‘Dinner at my place tonight. We need to talk.’ 

#writing challenge #fanfiction #in bloom #angst angst baby #angst #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne fic #batman x reader #batman x you #alfred pennyworth #batman fic #batman fanfic

[incorrectbatfam]

Im writing a road trip AU and I need some advice on what each of the batfam's favorite music genres are. And some prompts if you wouldn't mind!!

I have a number of character playlists on my Spotify which you can check out as a starting reference, or you can search up the music tag on my blog as I've answered a number of music-related questions

For some prompts:

If you want fluff and humor...

Tacky roadside attractions

Trying strange local delicacies (looking at you Rocky Mountain oysters)

Hotel room shenanigans

Taking turns driving

Joint trips with other superhero families

Unique family vacation traditions

Accidentally ending up at the border

If you want emotional hurt/comfort...

Late-night campfire talks

Leaving someone behind at a stop

Someone breaking off from the party

Vacation fatigue

Someone/something getting lost

Bringing work on the trip

If you want mystery and heroics...

Cryptid towns like Point Pleasant or Roswell

Seedy motel criminals

Haunted places

Team-ups with other local heroes

Getting stranded in the middle of nowhere

Facing the North American wilderness

Encountering lesser-known urban legends

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #kate kane #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batgirls #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #dc fanfic #fic ideas #music recs #writing prompts

[crowned-aeris]

Okay so y’all know how canonically there’s a batburger with meals based on the bats and their enemies? Well…. I think it’d be funny and interesting if in every au, the menu’s slightly different.

Sure, they’ll still probably by the batburger, bat fries, robin nuggets, etc etc, but… but in a world where robin doesn’t exist, what would they be called? It’d be funny to see little details where the menu changes to reflect the names of the gotham vigilantes of that au

eg, in my au, To Brace Upon Benign Feathers, there’ll still be Batburgers, Batfries, Two-Face Sandwich, Killer Croque, and Ivy Salad (Not Poison), but I also think there’d be Shadow Shake, (a cookies and creme milkshake type of thing), Seraph Scones (Alfred refuses to eat them because they’re not “real scones”), Anubiscuits (literally just pop-eyes buscuits cos they’re dry enough for you to MEET anubis(the actual god)), and Wraith Wraps

Tl;dr: I think different au’s, especially reverse robins au’s, should have their own little batburger with a different menu

#tim drake #batman #batfamily #dick grayson #batfam #fanfic #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #reverse robins #wing fic #wingfic #wings #fic: to brace upon benign feathers #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #batburger

[luxaofhesperides]

those who serve.

Running away from Amity Park—from his entire dimension—Danny takes refuge in the streets of Gotham. It's hard, suddenly being a homeless teenager in such a crime-ridden city, but it's better than dying a second time.

Enter Alfred Pennyworth, a kind old man who works as a butler who, for some reason, has decided to befriend Danny.

His future is still up in the air, but he's hopeful that things will work out. After all, Alfred isn't getting any younger and someone needs to help him with his butler duties. Danny's just the right person for the job.

Or: Alfred Pennyworth sees a homeless teen who looks like he'd fit right into the Wayne family and decides to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's just going to leave this very sad, possibly meta teenager alone when there's more than enough space in the Manor to house one more child in need.

read chapter one on ao3 or below the cut.

Technically, Danny doesn’t exist. 

He has no papers, no records, no family in this dimension. It’s a blank slate, a fresh start where he can be anything he wants. That doesn’t change what he is, however, and Danny is just another lonely child living on the streets. 

In Gotham, he’s not a hero or a threat; he’s just another nameless face passing by, another teenager with no support system and no future. Just a figure clinging to the alley walls, head bowed and hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. It’s not great, far from it, but it’s better than the alternative where he—

—parading around in the corpse of our son! How dare you! Wearing his face won’t save you from what we’ll do to you! Leave Danny’s body so we can bury him, leave him! I’ll tear you ap—

This is better, is the point. Out of the frying pan and into the crime ridden streets of Gotham. Not quite a fire but close enough.

No one is hunting him down in this dimension, at least. He’s ignored and left to his own devices, wandering the streets only when the sun’s gone down and slipping into grocery stores after hours, invisible, to get a few things to eat. It sucks that he’s resorted to stealing to survive, but at least he’s surviving. 

Survival is the entire reason he ran from his own dimension, after all.

He’s been here for two and a half weeks now, getting acquainted with the streets. Every day is spent hiding and trying to endure the crushing loneliness and grief of losing his entire life. He’s still half alive, yes, but the life he lived has gone up in flames, torn to pieces under his parents’ attacks. He can’t even blame them for it; under the circumstances, with the limited understanding they had, it’s only natural that they would try to kill him after discovering that Danny Fenton, their son, died two years ago.

Understanding doesn’t stop the sting of betrayal, doesn’t soothe the ache of being chased away from his family, but it’s something. 

It’s all he has, these days.

There’s no one to hide from, no one who knows him at all, so Danny wanders, more ghost-like than he’s ever been before. People give him a wide berth at night, never making eye contact and walking by faster. 

Save for one, of course. One person, at dawn, who always seems to find him no matter where Danny’s wandered that night. 

He introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth. The British accent caught Danny off guard enough that he stopped and turned to face the man, who stood a few feet away, umbrella held over his head. 

“Are you quite all right, my boy?” he had asked. “I have a spare umbrella if you would like to keep from getting any more soaked.”

It took a few tries for Danny to find his voice after a week of not speaking a word. “No,” he rasped, barely audible over the rain, “I’m fine.”

He walked away without another word, thinking that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Alfred returned dawn after dawn, never staying longer than ten minutes, trying to make small talk with Danny. 

Danny, for his part, had no idea why this random British man had decided to make friends with a homeless teenager, but figured that he was just a lonely old man with no family left. That, Danny could understand. So he’d stay for a bit, listening to him talk and occasionally replying, then say his goodbyes when more people began to emerge onto the street. 

Two and a half weeks in, Alfred finally asks Danny for his name.

“Why?” Danny asks, shifting where he stands. He doesn’t exist here, but it doesn’t stop his instinctual need to run from anyone who goes looking into him. The GIW don’t exist here, no one is hunting him down. There’s no information about him in this dimension that can be used against him. It’s hard to remember that, not after he’s spent the last few years trying to keep ghost hunters from finding him. 

“I feel it’s rather rude of me to speak to someone I have never properly greeted,” Alfred says. He always speaks so calmly, as if there’s nothing in the world that can shake his composure.

I don’t exist here, Danny reminds himself, I’m safe. 

“Danny.”

“Danny,” Alfred repeats. “A fine name.”

“Thanks? It was my first birthday present.”

The stupid comment makes Alfred smile, just a little, so Danny calls it a win instead of beating himself up over having zero control over what his mouth says. 

There’s more movement along the streets now, Gotham beginning to wake up with storeowners getting ready for the day and morning shift employees heading out to let the night shift go. It’s just about time for them to part ways until the next morning, and Danny’s resigning himself to another day of loneliness. 

His short conversations with Alfred are really all he looks forward to. It’s nice to hear about the man’s time in England, his work as a butler, his opinions on American cuisine and the like. He never presses for a response and he doesn’t try to dig for more information about Danny. Just talks to him, then says his goodbyes. 

“I’ll let you go back to your day,” Danny says, pushing off of the wall he’s been leaning against. “See you around.”

Alfred nods once. “Very well. I do hope you get some rest today, Danny. You always look very tired when we talk. I hope I haven’t been keeping you from sleeping.”

“Oh, not at all. I just have insomnia. Better to have some company than just lay around wondering why I can’t sleep, you know?”

“Indeed. I shall be off then.”

“Yeah, alright,” Danny says. “I’ll see you tomorrow once you somehow track me down again. Are you sure you don’t have magic?”

Alfred shakes his head with a small smile. “I am quite positive I do not have magic. Perhaps we simply have similar ideas about where the best places to walk are.”

“Sure,” Danny says, drawing out the word. “Whatever you say.”

Truth be told, the first few days, he was scared that Alfred was somehow tracking him down. For what, Danny didn’t know. Maybe he wanted to harvest Danny’s organs? Sell him to an evil scientist to be experimented on? Induct him into a mob?

Alfred didn’t do any of that. He just showed up, talked for a few minutes, then went on his way. He never followed Danny, never asked strange questions, never did anything besides chat about his life and his work as a butler. 

It honestly was fun to listen to. It’s clear how much Alfred cares for his employers. Before meeting him, Danny had never really thought of butlers beyond being an outdated job for people too rich to do their own chores. Now it’s interesting, learning all the things a butler has to do and why Alfred chooses to do them. 

He still doesn’t have a favorable opinion on billionaires. Too many bad experiences for him to view them is any unbiased light (thanks for that, Vlad, but eat the rich either way); still, it’s nice to know that this family looks out for Alfred. They give him a place to live, a family to live with, a reason to stay. 

It would be nice if Danny could have those too, in any way that he could. He’s at the end of his rope, struggling to stay and not surrender himself into the Zone and be done with the living realm entirely.

Even his Obsession isn’t enough to sustain him. There’s no one to protect here; honest to god vigilantes patrol the streets of Gotham to keep it safe. Danny isn’t needed here. 

There’s no place for him at all.

Already, his mood is plummeting and all he’s done is take a few steps away from Alfred. It doesn’t bode well for his future, whether that’s what’s to come in the next few hours or the next year.

Sighing, Danny ducks his head back down and begins his search for someplace to bunker down for the day. There are quite a few empty buildings around, newly constructed but not yet in use. He doubts there’s any security installed yet, so he should be safe to settle in and catch some sleep before the sun goes down. 

Just as he turns the corner, he hears someone running. They’re behind him and he tenses, ready to disappear so they can’t get him. 

It’s not Danny they go to. It’s Alfred.

“Hand over your wallet if you want to get out of here alive, old man!”

Shit, Danny thinks, spinning on his heel to get back to Alfred. He rounds the corner to see a mugger jabbing a gun at Alfred’s temple. He looks angry, nearly shaking, and there’s a strange shine in his eyes.

Drugs? No, not important. What’s important is that Alfred is standing still, as calm as ever, with his hands lifted in the air. 

“Hey!” Danny yells, sprinting towards them, “Back the fuck up before I rip your tongue out!”

Fear and anger push him on, his Obsession whispering protect protect protect in his ear and he closes the distance between them.

The mugger barely has time to move the gun away from Alfred’s head, and no time at all to point it at Danny, before Danny tackles him, slamming him onto the ground. He rips the gun out of the mugger’s hand and tosses it carelessly to the side. 

“Don’t touch him,” he hisses. Faintly, he’s aware that his features are shifting, becoming a little less human. The snarl building in his chest has his teeth sharpening, bared in warning. 

The mugger trembles beneath him, thrashing weakly. “Alright, alright! Just lemme go! Let go!”

He doesn’t want to. Danny wants to hurt him for daring to go after Alfred, the one good light in the dark, the only person Danny cares about in this dimension. He wants to make this man regret his choices, make him terrified for the rest of his life, break every bone in his hand so he can’t ever pick up a gun again. 

A hand drops onto his shoulder. 

“That’s enough, Danny,” Alfred says. His voice is stern and Danny can’t help but listen, effortlessly pulled out of his adrenaline fueled rage. His humanity returns to him. “There we are. Come now, my boy, stand up.”

He stands. The mugger scrambles to his feet and runs away. 

With the danger gone, Danny can think clearly again. He takes a few deep breaths and locks his ghost-half away as tightly as possible, keeping the cold in his chest buried deep. It was good for scaring away a mugger, but he doesn’t want Alfred to think he’s a monster. 

He can handle a lot, but not that. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking over Alfred for any injuries. There’s no telling that was done to him before Danny got the mugger away from him. It may have only been a moment, but Danny knows very well how quickly a moment can change a life (or take it away).

“Quite. In fact, I am sure you are in worse shape than I am, at the moment.” Alfred gestures downwards and Danny follows his gaze to his knees, where his already worn jeans have new holes in them. His knees are skinned from how hard he slammed into the ground, a dull ache he hadn’t noticed until it was pointed out to him. 

“It’s fine,” he says, “I can barely feel it.” 

Alfred gives him a hard look, as though he thinks Danny is lying; he’s not, the pain is barely there. He’s had a lot worse in the past. He can handle skinned knees easily. 

“Well,” Alfred says, “Thank you for coming back to help me. If there’s anything I can do to pay you back—”

“No. I don’t… I didn’t do it for payment. I don’t need anything.”

“I would like to—”

“No,” Danny interrupts again. “No payment. I just did what was right. Don’t make this a big deal, please.”

Alfred sighs. “Very well,” he concedes, looking more tired and worn than Danny’s ever seen him. “I shall not keep you any longer. Until tomorrow, Danny.”

He looks as though he expects Danny to take the out, to leave immediately. Danny shifts, not meeting his eyes as he doesn’t move. 

“I’ll walk with you,” he mumbles. “So no one tries to hurt you again.”

Danny’s worried that Alfred will insist on going alone, that he’ll have to go invisible and follow along when he isn’t wanted, but Alfred is kinder than that. Alfred doesn’t refuse or insist he go on his own. No, he smiles and thanks Danny for his consideration before taking off, making sure that Danny walks besides him rather than behind him.

They don’t talk much. Alfred seems to know that Danny isn’t much for words at the moment, sticking to his side and constantly surveying their surroundings for any danger. He walks confidently through the streets as though he wasn’t just held at gunpoint, carrying on with his morning with the same stubborn spirit that keeps most Gothamites from giving up on their city. 

Alfred visits a small bakery first. They’re not yet open, but the owner props open the door when they arrive, waving them in.

“Alfred!” she greets cheerfully, “And I see you have someone new with you.”

She looks expectantly at Danny, who shifts uncomfortably under the attention. He can’t get his voice to work, can’t figure out how to get the right words out.

“Ah, yes,” Alfred says, smoothly drawing her attention off of Danny. “This is Danny. We often talk in the morning and he has decided to accompany me today.”

“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Yurica. Alfred and I enjoy some tea together in the mornings before starting with our days. Why don’t you join us?”

“I don’t… mean to intrude,” Danny manages to say before Yurica waves off his hesitant refusal.

“Nonsense! Any friend of Alfred is a friend of mine. Come, come, let’s get the two of you seated. You’ll get the first picks of the day, once I get the last batches out of the ovens.”

She leads them into the bakery, past the kitchen and upstairs into a small sitting room. Danny follows them, unable to leave without seeming rude. He joins Alfred on the couch, awkwardly perched on the edge as Yurica bustles around, disappearing down the hall. 

Distantly, he hears the sound of running water and a stove top being turned on. The clinking of cups follows, along with the opening and closing of cupboards. It almost sounds like home, when Jazz was setting herself up for a long study session to make sure she’s prepared for college. 

Without noticing, Danny relaxes back into the couch. He keeps his eyes closed, just listening to the movement around the building; it’s soothing white noise that chases away the constant ache of loneliness he’s been carrying these past few weeks. 

“Quite the relaxing home, isn’t it?” Alfred asks. 

“You come here every day?”

“Not every day, but a few times a week. We’re old friends and are often up before anyone else. It’s nice to catch up for just a few minutes, especially at our age.”

He wonders if this is what it feels like, spending time with grandparents. He never met his own, could never relate to the kids who were always excited to spend time with their grandparents over the holidays, eager to be part of a bigger family. It was fine, before, when it was just him, Jazz, and their parents. 

It was fine. 

It didn’t last.

Yurica returns a few minutes later, carrying a tray full of cups and a teapot made to look like a fat cat. The sight of it makes him smile, almost distracting him from noticing the way Yurica and Alfred share a Look. 

“Here we are,” she says, setting the tray down on the table. She lays out the cups before Danny can offer to help, pouring out fragrant tea with a steady hand. “Cream? Sugar?”

Alfred adds cream to his own cup while Danny shakes his head, quietly thanking her for the tea. 

He cradles his cup in his hands, savoring the gentle warmth while Alfred and Yurica chat. He tunes them out, letting their voices fade into background noise. 

This is the most relaxed he’s felt in months. It’s sad to think about, so he tries not to, but it lingers in the back of his mind. 

Time passes without him noticing. Danny sips his tea until his cup is empty, then sets it down on the tray. That seems to be a cue that Alfred was waiting for, long done with his own cup, and he stands, thanking Yurica for her hospitality. 

She waves it off with a smile before Danny can echo the sentiments, then ushers them downstairs, where trays of freshly baked pastries fill cover the counters of the bakery’s kitchen. 

“Here, take your pick!”

Danny’s about to refuse when she shoves a paper bag into his hands. “Go on,” she says, “Take what you like. I always offer to friends and I find refusal to be rude.”

Now that she’s said that, Danny can’t keep refusing or he’ll feel awful. Alfred is already picking out a few pastries himself, so Danny trails after him, taking three pastries that look good. It’ll be enough to tide him over for the next two days, so he won’t have to steal any food. 

“Thank you again, Yurica,” Alfred says, “It’s always a pleasure to chat with you.”

“Oh, you’re always such a sweet talker,” Yurica laughs. “I’ll see you again soon, Alfred. And you, Danny, are welcome here whenever. Even without Alfred. My doors are open to you.”

Yurica is kind. She sees him in all his scraggly, worn down glory, clearly homeless and with nothing to offer her, and she doesn’t turn him away. Instead she welcomes him in solely because he’s here with Alfred. 

It’s enough to have him blinking back tears, ducking his head so they don’t see how much this affects him. 

“Thank you,” he manages, then hurries to follow Alfred out the bakery. 

Yurica waves at them from the door as they make their way down the street, then goes back in to continue preparing for the day. 

Alfred walks around some more; he informs Danny that he has no errands to run at the moment and no one else to visit. Danny follows, keeping an eye out for anyone who might think Alfred is an easy target. He barely pays attention to where they go until they enter an underground parking garage. 

The weak lights and stillness of the garage, along with the fact that it’s almost entirely empty, makes a fissure of unease race down his spine. This would be the perfect place for Danny to be knocked out and taken away; no witnesses, no help. 

But Alfred wouldn’t do that. Danny wants to believe that Alfred wouldn’t do that. 

He stops when Alfred pulls out a set of keys from his pocket. A black car in the back corner of the parking garage unlocks with a quick flash of the headlights. That is… an expensive looking car. It’s not an obvious luxury brand or anything, but it’s high quality and clearly made for people with money. 

Guess being a butler pays well, Danny thinks. 

Alfred opens the door, but doesn’t get into the car. Instead, he looks to Danny.

“Will you be alright, Danny? If you’d like, I have a first aid kit in the car that we can use to tend to your knees.”

“No, it’s fine. Thanks, though,” Danny says, trying to keep from tensing up too obviously. 

“And you have a place to stay?”

“Sure do,” he lies. 

“If you ever need help, you are welcome at Wayne Manor.”

Danny nods, intending to never go to the manor. He’s not going to risk another rich person trying to either 1) kill him or 2) make him their son. No way. Not in this dimension. 

Alfred looks him over, then nods. He gets into the car, offering Danny a quick goodbye. Danny lifts a hand in return, then leaves the parking garage, holding his bag of pastries close to his chest. More people are starting to fill the streets, starting the day, and Danny still hasn’t found a place to hide until night. 

He’s kept Alfred safe during his dawn walk. He’s safely delivered Alfred to his car so he can drive to wherever he needs to go.

There’s no point in him sticking around any longer. 

Hood up, Danny hurries down the streets, ducking into alleys to avoid being seen by people. It takes half an hour to reach the empty buildings he was considering before, and then just a minute to go invisible and fly up to the roof. The door going inside is locked, but a little intangibility goes a long way. 

Danny makes himself comfortable in one of the many empty rooms, back to the wall, and pulls out one of the pastries. It’s not as warm as before, but it’s still soft and flakey. The glaze on it sweetens the bread and it’s the best thing Danny’s had since he first arrived in this dimension.

This can’t go on, he realizes. 

All this squatting and stealing. It’s just not sustainable. He’s been acting as if he’s died again, left to haunt the streets of a city he doesn’t belong in. He’s spent all his time either sleeping or wandering, wallowing in his own misery.

No more. This is a second chance. 

There’s no ghost hunters. No GIW. No need to be a hero when so many already exist, willingly taking on that burden. Here, Danny doesn’t exist, which means he can be anyone he wants to be. 

And in order to live this new life, he’ll need a job. He’ll worry about school once he’s able to save up some money and find a place to live. 

Step one to getting his shit together: find a job that will take on a homeless teenager who doesn’t legally exist.

He’s already got one in mind; Alfred does keep offering to help in any way he can, and he’s made working as a butler sound fulfilling. 

Serving isn’t quite protecting, but it’ll be close enough that he can satisfy his Obsession. 

The pieces are falling into place. The more he thinks about it, the more he likes this plan. 

He’ll ask Alfred about it when they next meet. Everything else can wait until then.

(“Are you sure you’re okay, Alfred?”

“Quite,” Alfred says, smoothly stepping away from Bruce’s fussing. “Danny scared the mugger away before he could do anything.”

“I’m glad he was there. Are you sure I can’t go meet him? Thank him in person?”

“You’ll only scare him away, I’m afraid.”

Bruce sighs, reaching for his cup of coffee. “What about as Batman?”

“That will only be worse, I’m sure. Not everything can be solved by putting on a mask, Master Bruce.”

Tim enters the kitchen, drops a tablet on the table in front of Bruce, then collapses into his seat with a groan. “I can’t find anything on him. Are we sure he’s real?”

“I assure you he is very real, Master Tim.”

Tim lifts his head to give Alfred a bleary, assessing stare. “I know we always rag on B about his adoption problem, but he got it from you. You’re not going to stop until you get this Danny guy into the Manor, right?”

“It’s either that or setting up a home for him in Gotham.”

“Bring him here,” Tim says with a yawn, putting his head back on the table, “Now I’m curious about him, too.”

“I shall do my best, Master Tim. I shall do my best.”)

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc fanfic #danny fenton #alfred pennyworth #my writing #fic #chapter one of three!! dont ask abt an update schedule. i dont have one and never will #i just want alfred to adopt danny. he found danny first in this one!! #i mean. bruce had to get it from somewhere #and that somewhere is alfred taking care of a child who suddenly became an orphan and had no one else #its a family trait really #butler danny au #alfred's apprentice au

[flamingpudding]

Part 4 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

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How to catch a baby brother

Richard 'Dick' Greyson had a problem. It wasn't a nuclear level of problem but it also wasn't a paper cut level of problem either. Because apparently he had a baby brother no one in their family but Damien knew about. Granted Damien had confessed that said baby brother was dead and had supposedly died eight years ago.

The explanation that Talia had apparently pulled another Jason was not helpful at all. According to Damien, in response to Tims findings, there was no other way for the twin to be alive other than Talia having preserved his body and then decided after eight years to drop it into the pits. Well lets just say his opinion on that woman if it was already down in the depth it certainly was now.

Which, considering the glowing Lazarus green eyes, could mean that there was now an eight years old child running loose in the Bat Cave with Pit Madness. Not just a simple feral eight years old that looked like perfect B adoption material and so happened to be blood related.

"Guys we need a plan. We can't just let our little teethling run loose."

"Richard, do not refer to my brother as little teethling." Dick only grinned. "Well the little biter needs a nickname and until I find something else fitting its teethling. Or do you have a better suggestion?"

Sweet little Baby Bird was now glowering at him. Oh protective were we, his little brothers definitely were the cutest. He was definitely going to tease sweet little Dami about this later once the first phase of new little brother crisis was over. For now they had to find the little guy first. The Cave wasn't exactly childproof.

"Let's use Jason as bait." Tim suddenly suggested causing the second oldest to grimace. "The little guy apparently likes biting him. We could use that as an advantage."

"Absolutely fucking not." Little Wing disagreed and Dick chuckled in good humor.

"Aw come on Little Wing, this is your chance to make a bond with our new baby before any of us can."

"For once I agree with Todd. Absolutely not, who knows where he has been. I will not have my brother become sick from biting him." He would have cooed at this, if Jason's face change from surprise at the agreement to a purely offended scowl wasn't so funny.

"Okay no biting bait. But we gotta draw out the little guy and calm his Pit Rage." If that feralness the kid displayed had even anything to do with Pit Rage.Considering the glowing eyes though he would think so. Dick eyed Jasons for a moment, he didn't seem to be affected at all nor had he said anything about the Pit being upset or feeling anything strange. So maybe the little guy wasn't suffering to an extrem from it? But he had apparently been brought back by a Lazarus Pit, so the likelihood with their experiences so far was slim.

"Well we gotta find a way to secure the little guy before B comes back or Alfie finds out." Jason mentioned still scowling at Damien. "By the way, I want to be here when you guys tell B about this. I wanna see his face and make fucking sure the little biter won't be turned into another kid soldier."

"Jason." He scowled, this was definitely not the right time for that sort of discussion but he had a point, they needed to find little… what had Damien said his name was? Wait did Damien even tell them the little guy's name? They all had just been using nicknames so far.

"Dami, what's the little teethling's name again?"

"I haven't told you yet." Ah okay so he didn't have a hole in his memory. "It's Danyal, but when we were younger he didn't like the way grandfather and our teachers called his name and insisted on being called informally as Danny."

"Okay right, so we better find little Danny and get everyone together to introduce-"

"Might I ask who this 'little Danny' is, Master Dick?"

He did not scream. But his heart rate shot up with Alfred just appearing behind him like that. Really sometimes Alfred could be as bad as Cass in the ways of sneaking up on people without them knowing.

"Alfred, hey hi what are you doing down here?" He was not nervous, no he wasn't. The way the butler narrowed his eyes at him did definitely not scare him at all, nope.

"I was informed that all of you returned uninjured." Though his eyes narrowed at Jason's hand that got cut earlier and his brother instantly tried to hide it behind his back when he noticed Alfreds eyes on him. "But the four of you, despite having returned to the Cave, have not come up yet. So I was merely checking on you, to make sure nothing was wrong after all."

He gulped. Really there was no way of ever hiding anything from Alfred.

"Jason brought a child to the Cave that we found out is Damien's twin that had died eight years ago but was brought back to life and is now feral and hiding somewhere in the cave."

At least it was Timber that blurred out everything they knew so far.

"His name is Danyal." Baby Bird added and the four of them waited for Alfred's reaction.

"I see. I will go prepare one of the rooms then and inform Master Bruce to return sooner from his meeting with the Justice League then. As well as prepare for a family dinner as soon as possible, I assume. Will my help be needed in finding young Master Danyal?"

"No worries Alfie, I think I have an idea on how to draw out the little shiiii-biter. You made cookies, right?" Jason at the last minute corrected his words because of the look and Dick couldn't help but snicker.

"I indeed did. If my help is not required then I will be on my way."

Giving them all one last look over, the Butler smiled before he turned to leave. Dick, Tim and Jason let out a sigh in relief once Alfred had left again to which Damien only eyed them strangely.

A little while later Jason went to get the cookies and came back with the plate and staring at a green post-it note. "Since when does Alfie stick green post-it notes with cryptic shit on plates?"

"What?" His brother only shrugged offering the note to him. Tim was looking over his shoulder at it and the two stared at the strange writing.

"I think Cass or Steph might be pulling a prank on us? These look just like random squiggles."

"Let's leave this for later and look for the little teethling." He passed the note to Tim, noticing the curiosity in his eyes. Oh boy, he probably should make sure his little brother gets some sleep instead of trying to encrypt whatever was written on that little note all night.

"Now everyone lets take a cookie, resist eating it and go hunt down our little teethling."

Damien narrowed his eyes on him. "I told you to stop calling Danyal that." The little baby bird still took a cookie though and marched away into the bat cave. They had separated wandering through the Bat Cave trying to cover as much ground as possible and by this point Dick was ready to call for Cass to join them, maybe even wake up Duke just so they would finally find the little kid.

That was until a familiar yowl of pain resounded in the Cave. The direction made Dicks stomach sink once he remembered just what was in the Cave in this direction. "Jason!"

Once he arrived there he feared for the worst. Jason avoided the area, because B had placed their Lazarus Pit there and his brother had often said that it was one of the reasons he didn't like coming to the Cave that much anymore let alone into this area of the Cave. To hear his brothers shout of pain from that area couldn't mean anything good.

Well that was until he got to the scene. Dick didn't know how long he stood there frozen but at some point he knew he took out his phone to take some photos of what was happening. Tim was already laughing and Dick was pretty sure that Babs was most likely recording this with one of the many cameras B had in the Cave.

Jason lay with his back on the ground, with one hand his brother was still holding the cookie waving it desperately before Danny's face who was biting down on the other arm sitting on the downed vigilante's chest. Little hands gripping onto the arm in an attempt to make sure no one was taking his chewtoy away from him. Meanwhile Damien was trying to lift the little biter off Jason by holding him with his hands under the kids armpits.

"You little shit! FUCK! Come on, here is the cookie! Take the fucking cookie! OUCH FUCKING HELL! How is he resisting Alfies cookies!"

"Danyal, No! You do not know where Todd was or how dirty he is. Let go of his arm this instant. We do not want you to get sick!"

"Hey!"

This was gold, Dick decided, and would go straight to the black mail as well as family memories folder.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #damian wayne #feral danny #jason todd #danny and damian are twins #dp x dc #de aged danny #fanfic #dick grayson #richard grayson #tim drake #dc x dp #crossover #alfred pennyworth #unedited #no beta wie die like danny #Jason the chewtoy #Alfreds cookies are irresistible #Danny doesn't know that yet #clockworks post-it notes are cryptic and in ghost speech #dpxdc