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frost-queen · 5 months

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Reversed roles (Reader x Jeremiah Valeska)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: Reader is Jeremiah's therapist at Arkham. When the roles are reversed it is time for Jeremiah to be in charge and do whatever he likes with you.

“Ah Y/n!” – Jeremiah called out upon seeing you enter the room. You gave him a soft glare as he lowered his enthusiasm. – “Ma’am.” - he expressed in a deep voice trying to be half funnily. Taking a deep breath you pulled the chair back. Jeremiah came leaning his elbow on the table, resting his knuckles under his chin.

“I’ve missed you doctor.” – he said as you sat down. – “Then you are the first.” – you told him looking for a pen in your pockets. He chuckled with a wide smile. – “Normally people hate therapy.” – you continued taking out a pen. – “I like you doctor.” – he responded all cheeky.

It made you quirk your eyebrow at him. – “This isn’t a playdate Mr. Valeska.” – you reminded him. – “It could be?” – he answered. You looked around the small pale room. – “Very romantic.” – you said sarcastically. Jeremiah leaned back in his chair, moving his hands behind his head. – “We can make it very romantic.” – he suggested glancing down at his own lap.

Almost inviting you over to come over and sit on it. You flashed your eyes down unamused by his attempt. – “Auch doc.” – he outed sounding like a wounded puppy. Exhaling loud you lifted your head back up. – “Shall we begin Mr. Valeska?”

Jeremiah shrugged his shoulders. You clicked your pen with a quick quirk of your brow at his lack of co-operation. – “You keep requesting me here Mr. Valeska. Why if you are not motivated to take on my therapy.” – you said as he snorted loud. – “What you really think talking about my feelings will magically make me sane?” – he laughed it away.

“It could be a start.” – you proposed inviting him to start. Jeremiah lowered his arms, changing his posture in the chair. – “I am more of an actions first type of guy.” – he told you. You hummed intrigued scribbling down as you mumbled out loud enough to him.

“Violent.” – Jeremiah puffed loud at how you were keeping the charade of being his therapy doctor up. It bothered him that you weren’t giving him the attention he wanted from you. There was a reason he kept requesting you for therapy even though he never wanted it.

Manipulating the guards into having a change of heart when it wasn’t the case. They were just foolish enough to buy it. Jeremiah leaned over the table taking your notebook and tossing it behind him. The pages fluttered open before it hit the wall. Dropping down to the floor, some loose pages scattered around.

You leaned a bit to the side to look past him to your notebook. – “You owe me a notebook.” – you spoke. – “You owe me your attention.” – he responded mocking the dull tone in your voice. – “I’m paying you to be here so I get to decide what I do with you.” – he made clear. – “You don’t pay me at all. The asylum does.” – you stated with a sneer driving him wild.

Jeremiah started to clap, applauding you. – “You are one tough one to crack.” – he said with a silly smile on his lips. – “Finally common ground.” – you answered. Jeremiah got up, shoving his chair back. He pressed his hands firm on the steel table. You didn’t even flinch feeling his fierce eyes pierce at you.

You looked back at him with a tiny smile. – “Does my lack of attention make you angry?” – you asked him. He licked his lip brief, turning his head. Clearly bothered that you were spot on. – “I’ll take that as a yes.” – you filled in. He looked back at you with a silly grin. – “I want your attention, all of it.” – he spoke full of mischief.

“I want you to keep your eyes on me.” – he went on straightening his posture. You kept your eyes on him as he slowly moved around the table over to you. – “I want your devoted attention.” – he continued rounding your side. – “What will you have me do?” – you responded intrigued what his intentions with these sessions were.

He set his hands on the bars of your chair, letting the feet scrape over the floor as he turned you in the chair to him. It made you swallow soft, feeling your heart rate slightly pick up. Jeremiah bend down, leaning in closer. – “It’s my turn to tell you what to do doc.” – he said staring hungry at your eyes. – “Is that s…” – you couldn’t finish your sentence as he had grabbed your throat, pushing your head back. His grip caught you off guard, making you blink a few times to process his hand around your throat.

Jeremiah chuckled devious loosening his fingers around your neck. He let his hand slide down your neck to your chest. His eyes following his movement till they landed on your lap. He smiled. – “May I?” – he asked, sitting down without permission. You felt his weight on your thighs. The thumping of your heart beating through your muscles with his pressure. He exhaled loud looking up to the ceiling for a moment. His arms resting on your shoulders. – “Isn’t this nice doc?” – he asked not wanting to hear an answer.

You turned your head to the side, trying not to fall under his spell. It was so clear he was toying with you. Messing you up and manipulating you. He knew damn well how good looking he was. Knowing no woman could resist his charm. His gaze went down on you once more, seeing you were keeping your head away from him. Jeremiah clicked his tongue, grabbing you by your chin.

He swayed his finger in front of you. – “All your attention Y/n.” – he reminded you. He drew himself nearer letting his cheek brush against yours to reach your ear. – “I can do whatever I like with you.” – he whispered making you feel slightly intimidated and strangely attracted to it. – “There will be guards soon.” – you told him. You heard him breath out a chuckle by your ear. – “We still have twenty minutes, doll.” – he said out loud to send a wave of fear over you.

You swallowed nervously knowing he had his grip on you for another twenty minutes now. He moved his head back to look at you. – “Are you frightened?” – he let out. Strangely you weren’t. Shaking your head you let him know. Your gesture seemed to amuse him. – “Very well doll.” – he spoke as his thumb slid down your cheek. – “Now it is my time to give you therapy.” – he paused his thumb on your underlip, flashing his gaze down to it. – “Therapy of insanity.” – he filled in with a hushed voice.

With his thumb he forced your chin down, opening your mouth. Before you could response properly had he pressed his mouth onto yours. Slipping his tongue right in your mouth. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his tongue in your mouth. His tongue brushed up your upper teeth before he sucked it back in, closing his lips on yours. Kissing your lips roughly. Staining your lips with his sanity. A gentle pull on your hair made you join in. Unable to resist not joining the party. The hotness of his lips demanding your participation. Whatever game he was playing it seemed to affect you. Unable to stay away from it.

What’s wrong with me? You thought as you moved your hands around his neck, grabbing onto the back of his neck. Your chest pressed itself against him taking a bit of control back. Jeremiah released his lips from you with a smirk. – “Somone is eager.” – he teased. – “Shut up and kiss me.” – you demanded pushing his head closer to you. Wanting his hot lips on yours again.

You didn’t have to say that twice as Jeremiah kissed you once more. Blood began to pump harder to your legs as a warmness spread inside of you. What was he doing to you? It was clear he was manipulating you yet you couldn’t stay away from it. Eager to be bound and do his bidding. Whatever he demanded you were willing to give. Surrender fully to him like a lapdog. Lips retracted once more as he smiled touching your cheek with a quick touch.

“Look at you.” – he said noticing the flush in your cheeks. You were panting, ushering your chest closer to him yearning for more. He had you right where he wanted you and you didn’t care. He removed himself from your lap as it pulsated strong. He went back around the table to the wall. Bending down to pick up your notebook. – “Can’t have you leaving without this.” – he said casually as if he just hadn’t kissed you till you saw stars.

He placed the notebook on the table, sliding it over to you. – “Next week same time?” – he asked as you could only nod. – “Good girl.” – he said going round the table again. He went to the door, knocking loudly at it. There he waited for the guards to open up. With one hand in his pocket was he waiting.

As if he had been the therapist ending the session and you the patient. The door opened as the guards were surprised to see him. They cuffed him once more. Before they walked off with him, had he turned around to you. – “I enjoyed this session. Very progressive for my well-being.” – he teased striking you with a wink.

The guards took him with them as you were left alone. You needed at least a few more moments to recollect yourself. The smell of his insanity still lingering on you. You laughed loud trying to cope with the fact that he has you under his thumb now. Grabbing your notebook you took your leave. Anticipating the next session where you no longer cared what he would do to you. As long as it made you feel wanted by him that was enough.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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arabriddler · 8 months

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Fic : Philophobia

Fandom : Gotham, Batman all-media types

pairing : Edward Nygma/Oswald Cobblepot ( + found family )

summary : heart renewed with hatred and fury, Oswald Cobblepot carries out his plan to get revenge on Ed by leading him to the very place that destroyed it all, the pier. He knows Ed, and perfectly planned and predicted it all, except Edward Nygma surprises him once again...

read here

For comics I’ve drawn for it go here

#Gotham #Gotham fic #Philophobia #nygmobblepot

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ficklefics · 3 months

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It would be fun for you to write a long lists of what you love vs what you hate when it comes to Jerome Valeska fanfictions and why you feel that way 🤪

is this ask from last summer? yes. am i only answering it now? also yes. hopefully the asker still follows me.

please remember that these are all just my opinions and it’s totally fine to disagree. a lot of it comes down to the characterisation of Jerome, which I feel a lot of writers oversimplify

let’s start with what I don’t like (cause that’s easier):

one of my biggest frustrations are fics where it’s like “reader is a high school student/nurse at arkham/police officer who is actually super insane except shows no sign of that at all ever”. can they be done well? sure. but I rarely see it. one fic that I read years ago had the reader as one of the cheerleaders on the bus in s2ep2 and she hands Jerome a lighter because… why? never really clear. in general, the ordinary person who is actually the perfect type of insane for Jerome to be interested in as opposed to just killing is rarely done right for me

I hate when Jerome in a fic is poorly characterised. by that, I mean just behaving sporadically in a “the writer doesn’t know what they’re doing way” as opposed to “he’s insane”. it’s a difficult line to walk

now, don’t get me wrong. i like a lil smut. well written smut. but it’s difficult to write Jerome smut well. a very core element of his character, established very early, is the fact that his mother’s sexual activity defos traumatised him and was key in pushing him over the edge. a Jerome who’s just banging left right and centre isn’t a Jerome that’s in character for me

now onto the likes (a lot of which are just the inverses of the dislikes):

the best thing a writer can do (for me) is have a clear idea of who Jerome is in their mind and in their fic. like I said above, there are lots of different ways to portray Jerome, and it’s not my place to tell people what’s right or wrong. I’d much rather read a consistent Jerome that isn’t how I imagine him than a wibbly wobbly noncommittal Jerome

in a similar vein, fics where Jerome is actually a bad person who does bad things. commit crime! relish in people’s suffering! but do them in interesting ways.

I love a fic where we get of vulnerable Jerome. not every fic needs this, but depending on the context i really enjoy getting to see writers interpretations of what that looks like, especially given that we don’t get any of it in the show really

again, these are all just my own thoughts. there’s a lot of nuance and a lot of fics out there. stuff I used to love I hate now, and stuff I once hated… I usually still hate tbh. read the fics you love and write the fics that make you happy

#jerome valeska #gotham #jerome valeska fic #jerome valeska fanfic #jerome valeska headcanon #jerome valeska fanfiction #jerome valeska x you #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska x oc #jerome valeska imagine #gotham fanfic #gotham/reader #gotham x reader #gotham fic #gotham headcanons #gotham imagine #jerome valeska/you #jerome valeska/reader

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nyxnygma · 1 year

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A m!reader or gn! Reader with zsasz? (Smut if you’re comfortable) breaking into Penguins house looking for info and Zsasz catches them

Caught || Victor Zsasz

[Victor Zsasz x M!Reader]

Summary: you get caught by Zsasz that results in the you and the assassin participating in flirty banter

Warnings: sexual innuendo, violence, held captured, knife stuff

Masterlist

A/N: I haven’t watched Gotham in ages and I’m tired so I apologise if it’s rubbish. I’m also sorry this took so long. Also no smut for male readers cause I don’t want to make it seem like I’m sexualising the relationship and also idk how to write them

You knew it was a dangerous mission, but you took it anyways. Tabitha hired you to find any information that could assist in bringing down Penguin and she was offering big bucks.

Slowly, you snuck through the window of the office and let your eyes to adjust to the dark atmosphere. You head straight for the desk; you knew Penguin would not be so stupid to have his dark secrets spilled out on the desk for anybody to find but you had to start somewhere. The papers were stacked neat upon the in table and you flicked the through them quickly but only found bills and receipts, just as you expected.

Moving to the bottom draw, you feel a floorboard creak beneath your foot. You knew it was cliché but you moved and lifted the wooden panel to find a large tin box. “Jackpot,” you whisper under your breath.

“Jackpot indeed,” another voice chuckled before you were knocked out.

Your eyes slowly opened. You must be wearing a blind fold because you couldn’t see your surroundings. “Shit,” you murmur. You couldn’t believe that you were caught.

“Have a nice sleep?” The voice spoke again.

“Tell me who you are,” you demand.

“Alright, Zsasz,” he chuckles, “you could’ve just asked though, no need for the attitude.”

“Oh yeah; no need for attitudes. I’m just tired to a chair and blindfolded,” you scoff. You had heard of Zsasz, everyone has. He is notorious for being the most sadistic sociopath in Gotham, which is quite the accomplishment.

“You’re a snarky one, aren’t you?” He sniggers, “If it makes you feel better you look hot tied up.”

“Did you just- are you flirting with me?” The shock in your voice was evident.

Zsasz chuckled once more, “You wouldn’t blame me if you saw yourself.”

“Take this blind fold off then,” You shrug. You were about to open your mouth to speak again but was stopped when you felt the cold metal of a blade being dragged across your cheek before cutting the fabric over your eyes.

You blinked hard four times as you eyes settled to the bright room. You must have been out for the whole night.

“Ta-Da!” Zsasz smirks. You examine the assassin before you; admiring the black fashion that adorned him. You also took in account the weapons that decorated he belt. “Checking me out, huh?”

“Just finding a way to get out of here,” you smile smugly up at him.

He shakes his head, “you can try but you will not succeed.”

“We’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” You roll your eyes. You flinch as a strong gloved hands held your chin and jolts your head up.

“You have such gorgeous eyes,” he hums before revealing the small knife in his other hand, “it’ll be a shame if I had to remove them.”

“What do you want?” You sigh in -embarrassing quick- defeat.

“That’s better, handsome,” Zsasz stepped back, letting your chin go, “I want to know why you were snooping around the boss’ office. Who sent you?”

“What makes you think I was sent?” You tilt your head.

“Since Penguin has no affiliation with you and you obviously look like a common thief so why would you go to his office when it is public knowledge the valuables are upstairs?” he shrugs.

You blinked.

“Oh come on, pretty boy,” he sighs dramatically (you blush at the nickname), “it’s Penguin who wants to know. I was happy to kill you right there and then. So who sent you?”

“Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you,” you smile smugly up at him. You decided to play along with his flirting game.

You weren’t expecting the assassin to do it but he held your chin once more and brought your lips together but it only lasted fifteen seconds. “So. Who sent you?” You looked up at him wide eyed with blushing cheeks. “Oh come one, handsome, a deal is a deal.”

“This woman at the Siren,” you break the eye contact and look down to the carpeted floor.

“Which woman?” He presses for more information. He moved to stand behind you and held your shoulders, the contact making you jump a little.

“I don’t know her name.”

“Yes you do.”

“I don’t!”

“Hmmm.. yeah you do.”

“This woman just walked up to me and knew who I was.”

“Barbara or Tabitha.”

“What?”

“The Siren, right?” He leans forward so his face was beside yours, “so was it Barbara Kean or Tabitha Galavan?”

“I didn’t catch her name, sorry,” you shrugged.

“Oh honey,” you for his hot breath on your neck, “this is gonna be a long night.

#Gotham #male reader #zsasz x reader #Zsasz #victor zsasz #victor zsasz x reader #gotham x reader #gotham fic #gothamsmut #gotham headcanon #gotham series #gotham x male reader #Zsasz x you #the penguin #oswald cobblepot

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layla4567 · 7 months

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LEWD POLLEN

Pairing: Jeremiah!pre spray x Fem!reader

Summary: Jeremiah's co-worker, one day you came out of the bunker and Oh no! You've been sprayed with Ivy's pollen! Now you will look at your coworker with dilated pupils.

Warnings: Smut, making out, rough kiss, mention of finger crack, porn with plot, course words

WC: 2k

🃏🃏🃏 🃏🃏🃏

You chewed on the tip of your pencil absentmindedly as you studied the plans, Xander next to you looking at you over his black-rimmed glasses.

"Do you need help with that?"- he asked

You looked up confused, Xander was so quiet you had forgotten you weren't alone.

"No, don't worry, it's okay."

"Are you sure? I see you distracted. Why don't you rest for a while?"- He sighed, arranging his papers and plans that were on the table.

"Okay, I think I'll go out and buy something to eat, do you want something?"

"No thanks, don't come back late"

You rubbed your eyes as you stood up from your seat and stretched your muscles. So many hours in the same position had left you contracted. With satisfaction you cracked your finger bones and left the bunker leaving your coworker busy with his project.

So many months working with him in his bunker had accustomed you to memorizing the infinite hallways and doors he had. Sometimes you felt like a mole working in such a protected place, protected from what? Why did he bother to live so isolated? You had no idea, you always thought they were crazy things and manias of your nerdy partner. You went out into the forest happy to see the sky and breathe fresh air. You walked a few steps when you heard a crunch of fast footsteps behind you, when you turned around a red-haired bombshel extended her hand and blew a green dust making you step back, closing your eyes tightly. The girl ran away laughing mischievously and you started coughing, moving your hands trying to dispel the dust in the air. You opened your eyes trying to figure out where that woman had gone but you were alone, suddenly you felt feverish and that could only mean one thing.

"Damn horny bitch!!"

Ivy. Ivy had thrown her lustful pollen at you just because she found it amusing to see people succumb to carnal desire. You brought a hand to your forehead checking your temperature worriedly, you were already sweating lightly. You decided to go back to the bunker and leave the shopping for another time. You walked briskly with lewd thoughts in your mind, the image of Xander passed through your mind and stayed there. You thought about his full lips and imagined them kissing you, his wide hands running over your thighs, his… No! Why were you thinking about him just now?! The pollen was stronger than you imagined and it was already having an effect on you. You quickened your pace.

You arrived at the bunker shaking and with red ears but you tried to maintain your composure so he wouldn't notice. You left your backpack on the back of your seat and sat next to him, avoiding eye contact.

"Are you alright?, you seem agitated"- he asked looking at you suspicious

You hadn't realized that your breathing had increased a little.

"It's nothing, it's just that I had to run back here. The store was closed."

He didn't say anything and looked back at his work. You took a deep breath and took the pencil, gripping it tightly and looked down at your papers. From time to time you glanced at your partner, his quick hand tracing lines on his drawing, his glasses slowly sliding down the bridge of his nose and then putting them back in place with his middle finger, his lips barely open as he concentrated. You bit your lower lip and surreptitiously squeezed your legs, the heat was increasing. Fuck.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't concentrate, the pollen was poisoning you inside. You felt very hot and cursed inwardly. You took off your jacket and fanned yourself with your hand. Only then did Xander look at you again.

"Are you really sure you're okay?"

His voice sounded more velvety or was it your imagination?

"Yes, yes, don't worry"- You said letting the air escape from your lungs.

But the minutes passed and you looked increasingly worse and your concentration was dissipating. You were sweating more and more and your hair was sticking to your forehead.

"Y/n you're not ok, maybe you're overexerting yourself. But it could be something else, let me take some samples for you to examine"

The boy with glasses approached with his chair near you and that only made things worse, your vision was somewhat blurry and your mind was a nebula unable to reason clearly. When he took your face to examine you, you sighed, closing your eyes and clinging to his wrist when he was going to move his hand away.

"You feel…so…soft"

Xander blushed, visibly uncomfortable, and slowly removed his hands from your face.

"I'll c-check these samples, it won't take long"

The redhead with glasses turned around to analyze the samples under a microscope. Now that he had his back to you, you were able to admire how wide he was. His muscles were visible in the tight shirt he was wearing along with his dark vest. Without realizing it you rubbed your hand against your thigh and dug your nails into your skin. When he finished looking at the samples he turned around and looked at you worried.

"Um this may not sound good but…" -he paused, meditating on his words- "I found particles of lustful pollen in the pores of your skin, that can only mean that Poison Ivy has poisoned you."

"Well… maybe I ran into her in the woods."-You sighed nervously and embarrassed for not telling him sooner.

"Well, in that case the symptoms you would feel are sweating, slight fever, dry mouth and throat, tremors in the legs and umm you know… a-a strong sexual desire"-He scratched the back of his neck with a finger, pulling at the collar of his shirt slightly uncomfortable.

"That's already happening and believe me it's not pleasant at all" -you whispered.

"Well, I guess I'll have to wait it out, maybe I can splash cold water on my face to calm the heat."

Xander made a worried face.

"That's the worst part, it won't wear off unless…well… otherwise, you'll die."

His words had left you frozen and you opened your mouth and eyes in horror. Was he trying to say that if I didn't fuck I was going to die?

"DO I HAVE TO FUCK SOMEONE OR AM I GOING TO DIE?? BUT WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Your coworker closed his eyes when you screamed. You woke up desperate, walking from side to side with one hand massaging your calvicles, your mouth was already starting to feel dry, damn it. The boy looked around nervously without knowing what to say, suddenly he approached and touched your arm, you gasped in surprise.

"I'm sorry for all this."

His eyes really showed great concern, and that made you melt like butter, even his green color seemed dreamier to you now.

"It's not your fault.."

You gasped in frustration and anguish and fell into your seat with your hands clutching your head, the tremors beginning to feel more. Xander sat in front of you.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, I guess… I'll die"

"There must be some solution"- he said

Oh yes, there was a much quicker and easier solution, but it was to fuck your colleague in the middle of the office and you clearly didn't want that, you didn't want to make him uncomfortable, disrespect him, or be unprofessional. You also didn't want to lose your kind of friendship that was formed between you. You looked at him with your eyelids heavy and your face dripping with sweat. Alarmed, he put his hand on your forehead again and that simple touch made the corners of your lips curve upwards slightly as you closed your eyes, enjoying his skin against yours.

"God you're boiling"

When he was going to remove his hand, you held it tightly again, now resting it on your cheek.

"It feels better when you touch me"

Your mind was so blurry that you didn't mention your words but he did and he turned red from the tip of his nose to the tip of his ears.

"If you want I can try...-"

"No never! I couldn't do it.."

Xander simply placed his other hand on your other cheek and caressed it, you moaned softly without thinking and then blushed embarrassed.

"Does that feel better?"

"God yes"-You gasped.

Now the redhead got closer to your face and your breathing accelerated as you looked at his lips with desire, you couldn't help it anymore, you couldn't reason, you just wanted to act, like a primal instinct that slowly took over you. You crashed your lips onto his in a fierce, rough kiss, almost knocking your teeth together. He started a little but tried to follow you. Your mouth stuck to his as if you had glue without taking your lips off even to breathe, you desperately needed to taste his lips, run all over his skin, but you knew you were being a little rough.

"I'm.. soo... sorry"-You hummed against his mouth.

Then you broke away abruptly to catch your breath and look at him, his glasses were crooked and his cheeks the color of apples, it suited him so well. You quickly straddled him to which he grunted nervously. Your kisses ran along his jaw and down to his neck, you didn't want this, but you needed it. Biting the exposed skin of his neck made him gasp, making you smile with pleasure against his skin.

"Ugh I need to see your skin, take off your shirt" - You said with a hand on the collar of his shirt trying to reach more skin on his neck and shoulders.

"Uh y-yeah"

You almost tore his shirt and vest to shreds, first he patiently undid his buttons, opening the collar of his shirt and rushed to kiss his collarbones. His suppressed moans were turning you on even more and soon you opened his shirt completely and were surprised by what you saw. How could a nerd have such a well-built body? Did he do push-ups and he hadn't told you? You looked up at him with your lips swollen and red.

"You're beautiful"-you said breathlessly

You earned a small shy smile from him, so cute. But the heat was still there, it hadn't gone away yet. You kissed him again with your tongue fighting with his while your pelvis began to move in circles against his crotch. He moaned into your mouth in surprise, you apologized panting but he told you it was fine. You continued with your pelvis tracing circles and rubbing on his growing boner. You were starting to get wet down there and breathing with your mouth open you buried your face in the crook of his neck with a whimper.

"Xander…I need you…now"

He understood, although somewhat shyly he put his hand towards his belt, you were faster and took it off without much difficulty, pulling down his pants and discovering his clear erection. You lowered your own pants and with a senton you went down towards his cock.

He gripped his hands on your hips and you moaned loudly, you should have done it slower but the need for penetration was urgent. You began your work by moving up and down while resting your face on his shoulder letting out gasps of pleasure. He tried to hold back but sometimes he let out delicious moans. Nibbling on his neck until you left hickeys, you raised your pelvis and lowered it, you wanted to keep a slow pace, but damn, you couldn't. The worst thing of all is that you sensed that it was his first time because he seemed very shy and blushed all the time as if sex were a taboo subject for him. You felt terrible about it but it wasn't your fault if that bitch Ivy had sprayed you with her shitty pollen. Your hands ran all over the redhead's body, your hands rested on his chest or scratched his back even with his shirt on. You tried to be gentle as much as you could so from time to time you would kiss his cheek or run your hand through his hair, stroking it. He responded to you with soft gasps, he seemed to enjoy it. Now your walls were getting tighter, you both could feel it.

"I'm gonna cum"-You gasped against his neck.

He wasn't ready to cum with you yet but you couldn't wait for him. You accelerated the pace, moaning brokenly, your pelvis rising higher and higher. Until, leaning closer to him, with your thighs trembling and your head on his shoulder, you came with a loud gasp. You stayed like that until you had regained your breath, you already felt better. You no longer felt that annoying fever from before. You separated a little to look at him and you realized that he was avoiding eye contact, his glasses were still slightly crooked, his chest was sweaty and his face was still red. You smiled tenderly.

"I really apologize for this again."

"Don't be, I-I understand.".

You carefully moved away from his lap and looked for disposable tissues to clean yourself. You gave some to Xander who thanked you, still red as a tomato. To respect his space, you turned around when he cleaned himself. Then they both adjusted their clothes and sat back down in the chairs. Clearly an awkward silence settled between the two of you, until you looked at the clock on the wall and realized that it was already late.

"I should go back to my house now" - You said, getting up.

Xander nodded seriously and walked you to the door.

"Let's never talk about this"-You said turning around before leaving.

"I have never agreed more."-He said and finally smiled slightly.

🃏🃏🃏 🃏🃏🃏

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itwasthereaminuteago · 1 year

Text

|| Deadhead ||

Victor Zsasz (Gotham) x female reader

Tags/warnings: established relationship, bit of fingering and unprotected sex. Sort of angsty but sexy.

A/n: wrote this in 2019, it's on Ao3 already but thought I'd post here too. I love Gotham.

On nights when you had finished a job, you had a little ritual of cleaning your weapons in the kitchen just before bed. Your freshly oiled set of knives were set to the right, finished and gleaming. The parts of your gun were already laid out neatly to the left on the granite topped island on your cleaning cloth, the one with little skulls printed all over it, and you were just about to start cleaning out the barrel.

You didn't hear him coming in, you never did. It was the warmth of him pressing against your back, the smell of his leather coat, gunsmoke... and the metallic tang of fresh blood that crowded your senses all at once. His hands reached through under your arms, placing his twin pistols right on top of everything you had carefully laid out. As he drew back the lightest touch of his fingers dragged over and left a filthy black smudge on the formerly mirror-like surface of your favourite blade.

"Shit, Victor! I literally just cleaned-"

The rest of your words were lost in a moan as he slipped his hand as quick as anything past your silk robe and into your panties. You leaned back against him groaning and panting as his other hand pushed up your body to grasp and cup your breast, marking your skin and underwear with gunshot residue and whatever else. All the while he remained silent, he had got you so turned on and wet so fast, relentlessly pushing you to a shuddering climax in a couple of minutes.

You braced yourself against the countertop trying to recover and steady your shaking legs, the warmth of Victor's body faded as he moved away. He grabbed your wrist and you span round nearly loosing your balance as he pulled you along with him. Backing up to the couch he let go of you and threw himself down, quickly unbuckling his belt and pants, never taking his eyes from yours. You pushed down your ruined panties, stepping out of them and climbing on to his lap still dressed in your robe and bra as he bunched his own pants down and the thick length of his cock sprang up. Taking it in your hand you guided him inside and sank down, even though you were practically dripping wet with arousal you gasped at the sensation. Still he was silent, his dark eyes watching as you began to ride him. It must have been a Bad Day.

Victor was a showman through and through, he loved the theatrics of being an assassin, lived for the chase, the stalk, the cornering. He just didn't enjoy killing.

Incapacitating? Sure.

Torture? Fine.

But actually taking a life?

Sometimes the simple jobs went wrong. Marks would do stupid things, wouldn't listen to your instructions (threats), would ruin the game – get people killed that didn't have to be killed. Sometimes things went Really Bad.

Victor wouldn't talk about it directly, but sometimes when you were in bed and he thought you were asleep, he'd whisper it to the darkness. Most people thought he was emotionless, hard, uncomplicated, uncaring... sure he had a wicked sense of humour and a perchant for disco of course, but he only let you under his skin.

I love you. You'd breathe close to his ear.

It's not your fault. Was what he'd hear.

Afterwards, you led him to the shower, washing off all the grime, cleaning his wounds and smoothing your hands over the hundreds of scars. He sighed as you kissed the newest mark on his chest, a score across four that were already well healed.

In the morning you woke up alone. When you got up in search of coffee you found it sitting ready on the stove, your gun reassembled and knives clean.

#gotham fic #victor zsasz x reader #victor zsasz x female reader #gotham fanfic

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lem0nshark-writes · 13 days

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"Thief"

Jim Gordon & Teen! Gn Reader

Type: platonic/familial fluff

Word count: 939

Warnings: reader's gender is not specified, no pronouns used for the reader, reader can be read as any gender, platonic/familial fluff, Jim Gordon is a softie, father figure Jim, sneaky reader, stealing

Request: "So I wanted to request a Jim Gordon x male/gn!teen! Reader (plutonic obviously)? R is kinda like Selena were they are out on the streets but are good at stealing/breaking into peoples places. They don't want to admit it but Jim is kind of a father figure to them, even though he's trying to catch them because R is like this vigilante who won'leave him alone. U can make it angsty or fluffy or whatever I'm just in desperate need of father figure! Jim Gordon (I blame my, well, father figure issues)"

A/N: Hey I'm so sorry this took so long to post and that it's so short and I don't know if this is something you had in mind, but the idea came into my mind and seemed cute so here it is! I hope you like it! And if it's not to your liking or what you had in mind feel free to send a message or ask and we shall fix it up or write something else!

Gotham was running another mayor election after the last misfortunate events leading up to loss of the last one, just like a couple of months back. Nothing new.

Though new elections meant new press meetings with the fresh promising candidates, and new press meetings meant lots of rich people on one spot, and that meant plenty of bounty for you.

You loved that kind of stuff, everyone was so close together and staring at the randos talking on the stand that none of them noticed you slipping by and stealing everything and anything that could be stolen and valuable. Easy peasy.

This was one of those events. There was a big crowd of people gathered in front of a small man with a funky hairstyle dressed all in black, through their talk overhearing his name was Oswald Cobblepot, asking him questions about his plans for the future of the city of Gotham. Phew like Gotham had any future, you thought to yourself.

Slipping around people, turning around their pockets and wallets ever so swiftly you quickly made your way through the crowd. The people gathered were unnecessarily loaded that by the time you went through half of them your pockets were nearly full. You smiled to yourself in satisfaction but before you were going to bolt to a safe spot to ditch all the IDs and other identifiers of your ususpecting victims and hide your bounty before going for more, you decided to go for another one that looked particularly rich.

Woman dressed in the fanciest suit your eyes ever laid on and carrying a probably equally as expensive bag that she so bit too carelessly flung around her shoulders made her the perfect target.

Sneaking up behind her you reached your hand into her purse, digging yourself up a rather thick wallet. Your eyes sparkled at the sight. But before you could pull the wallet completely out of the purse someone grabbed your wrist tightly, wiggling the wallet right out of your hand before tossing it carefully back into the bag and dragging you by the same wrist out of the crowd and to the side.

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest at the startle and your eyes widened knowing you're in big trouble, but the panic slowly simmered down when you noticed who the owner of the said mean hand was and you mentally let out a sigh of relief.

It was none other than Jim Gordon.

That man was always up your business, never letting you rest. Always somehow being there to stop you from doing something dumb, whether you liked it or not.

But you're not going to lie, his nosyness and continued persistence to stop you at your tomfoolery has gotten you out of more trouble than you can count and you are forever grateful for that. Not that you would ever admit it to him.

"What.are.you.doing.here??" Jim asked through a loud whisper.

"Nothing much, just wanted to listen to the speech of-.. -Oscar Clobblepot over there-" you said with a lil smirk, totally thinking you nailed that name.

Jim mentally facepalmed himself, "that is so not his name-.. and I know you're not! Now empty your pockets now-" he urged you, stern expression on his face.

"Hey no way, I earned that fair and square!" you protested at him but he didn't seem amused.

"Empty those pockets right now kid or I'm taking you to the precinct," he threatened, one threat he always made when you're annoying him too much and getting into too much trouble but he never actually did, and he never would and you know it but still you listened to him nevertheless.

With a frustrated sigh and an annoyed expression you hesistantly got to unloading your bounty into an evidence bag he pulled from his coat jacket.

"You always carry those around?" you asked bit weirded out he just has them on him at all times.

"You never know. Especially when you're around," he mocked a bit, but with no ill intentions behind his words, on which you sticked your tongue at him.

Once you fully unloaded all your pockets, not including a rather expensive looking necklace you hid in your shoe that he totally knew about but didn't mention or request, Jim was left with two big bags of all sorts of jewelry, credit cards and bunts of money.

He looked up at you with disbelief and doneness mixed in his expression, "really?"

"Hey one's got to ensure themselves!" you replied lifting your hands up in the air in defense, small devilish smile forming on your lips.

Jim sighed rubbing his face with his free hand, being so done with you.

"Alright, now scram! And if I see you doing this again you're spending a night in the cell!" he slipped a 50 into your jacket pocket, a little thing he always did when he caught you stealing thinking it would hold you off but also so he made sure you ate that night, as he threatened, both of you knowing that's a threat he'd never make true, growing quite a soft spot for the little rascal that you are ever since he first met you.

"Okay c'ya Jimmy! Party pooper! Thanks!" you added jokingly as you swiftly made your way to the nearest alley, disappearing in it.

"Hey I told you not to call me that!" he yelled after you jokingly, secretly loving the little nickname you gave him.

"Jimmy!" you yelled from the alley as you darted off to exchange your hidden bounty and look for the next victim you could annoy him with.

#Jim Gordon #Gotham #Jim gordon fic #Jim gordon fanfiction #Gotham fic #Gotham fanfiction #Reader insert #male reader insert #female reader insert #Gender neutral reader insert #Male reader #Female reader #Gender neutral reader #Y/n #Fluff #Platonic fic

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gothamslostboy · 1 year

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A Small Push

Zsasz x Male Reader

This was meant to be a small paragraph or two on my gotham blog, but I got so carried away

This is the first thing I’ve enjoyed writing so much in a while, so it’s going on the main blog

I didn’t proofread so lmk any typos

WORDS: 2107

YOU ZSASZ

Very little information is known about Victor Zsasz. Sure, everyone in Gotham knows to avoid him. They know he’s a sadistic assassin, loyal to his boss, and that he’s never been serious. The few who’ve survived him only bc the boss called him off report their pleas for life to be met with indifference, which always turns to a unrelated comment about what he’s doing later or asking about what his victim originally planned to do that day.

You see, the terrifying thing about Zsasz isn’t how great he is at his job. What sends chills down Gothamites spines at the mention of his name is how unbothered he is with human life. Where the rest of us see cold blooded murder, Victor sees Tuesday morning’s work. Nothing more important than an office worker doing paper work. Yet, no matter how perplexed a person gets, none of them have tried asking him why.

Until you came along.

It was a new day at work, having started at this diner earlier this week after police officers told you one of Gotham’s several psychos burnt down your last job. Lucky for you it was your day off, not so lucky for your coworker Lucas, but you hadn’t liked him much anyway. Despite it being a Friday, the diner was almost completely empty tonight. You had only had one customer, an older man who had been in a rush to eat. He tipped well, though his rambling about leaving before “Satan’s Strawberry Milkshake Meal” left an odd impression.

Confusion only grew in your mind when your supervisor asked if you could handle being alone for a couple hours, eyes quickly shifting between you and the clock. Before you could even finish nodding your head she pushed past you, almost knocking over the coat hanger by the door as she ran. Now you were a little pissed, not only for her abruptness, but at the fact she had been whispering to herself about “milkshake psychos”.

What was everyone’s deal tonight? Maybe you were missing some information about this side of town, you had only just moved over here for the job, starting your first shift immediately after putting the moving boxes inside your apartment. You’d have to ask the supervisor when she got back.

The bell above the door rang, and suddenly all the pieces clicked together. Victor Zsasz, cruelest killer in Gotham, had walked through your doors and was striding over to the counter. It was too late to pretend you weren’t here, his eyes had registered your paralyzed form quickly and he gave a short wave before sitting down.

Taking a deep breath, your feet moved before your mind and pulled you all the way to the backside of the counter. Now you were less then 5 feet from the man, his stare unnerving, only amplified by his almost innocently placed hands: fingers interlocked in an almost “prayer” position.

Hello welcome to Margret’s Diner, what can- what would you like this evening Sir- er, um, Mr. Vic- Mr. Zsasz? Your hand were shaking as you held your notepad, small damp marks at the end of your desperate fingers. You didn’t dare to make eye contact, not even as you heard his sudden chuckle.

Why are you so stressed? If anyone should be stressed it’s me, just had to flee a scene. And you don’t have to be so formal, it’s Zsasz.

A scene? Did he mean a crime scene- of the murder variety? Your grip tightens on the yellow paper below you, clearing your throat as if it would bring back the air squeezed out from your lungs. He lowers his head to try and enter your eyeline, obviously enjoying the effect his presence has.

I guess you- aha, you have a fair point there Zsasz. You let some pathetic chuckles fill the space in between your words, only continuing on when Victor motions his hand, amused but feeling a smidge of annoyance at your inability to speak. The adrenaline of being so close to a killer kicks in, forcing a wave of dangerous confidence to enter your system. So, Zsasz, your stance straightens and you grin a bit at his surprise when you look him in the eyes. What can I get you? From what others have said today I’m assuming a milkshake is on your menu? You can’t even believe your own words, and it seems neither can the assassin in front of you. He leans back in his chair, arms crossing as he shakes his head and smiles.

Bravo, his hands make the motion of clapping with out any sound before he leans closer, head resting in his hands. You take a tiny step back. When you picture Victor Zsasz: Gotham’s Greatest Assassin, you saw a serious man. One who would have already shot you just for making any sort of assumption about him. The casual man with a sort of relaxed beauty about him seemed almost unable to kill, but you knew better than to trust your unstable taste in men.

I had you pegged for a coward diner man, where did those words come from? What a surprise that is. His eyes are wide, too full of life for a man who just admitted to committing a crime, or at the very least running from one. You relax knowing that the annoyance he carried earlier seems gone, maybe even replaced with the same fascination for you that you had for him.

Don’t know, maybe I’m losing it. So was I right about that milkshake or what? Have my sources lied? If the pounding of your heart hadn’t been reminding you of your awakeness, you wouldn’t believe this was a real moment. Not a coward, but you’ve certainly never been a brave, confident conversationalist, and definitely not with someone so infamous as Victor.

Huh, guess I was wrong. Strawberry milkshake please, no cherry. Aren’t you a tiny bit scared I’ll kill you? He focused on you now, trying to discern any fearful tells you could have. Itching to see if you truly were insane. It’s rare he finds someone who can speak to him, even rarer that person seems to relax and enjoy the conversation. You speak over the rising sound of your heart, and scare yourself a bit by resting a hand on the counter and leaning towards the man dressed in black.

If you killed me, who would make the milkshake? You don’t know where the ingredients are and then you’d have a body in your way! Doesn’t seem ideal for a relaxing milkshake. You let a big grin cover your face when it’s apparent Victor enjoyed your answer, laughing and moving just a bit closer. He lets his head flop to the side, catching in in his right hand while pointing at you with his left.

Oh you are fun. Also new here. I come here every week, surprised no one told you. Kinda well known around here. He jokingly rolls his eyes as he finishes his sentence.

He meant it. You are fun, he’s gonna have to keep you around. No matter the cost. It’s obvious to him this is at least partially a front, your hand is more relaxed, but still shaking. But even still, he doesn’t meet people who joke with him on the day to day. Only other assassins, even then it’s typically not good natured, and they usually end up dead. But you. He doesn’t even know your name but he’s on the edge of his seat waiting for you to reply. You’re cute. You’re funny. And you’re blushing everytime he gets closer, Victor doesn’t think you even noticed that you were.

Zsasz made a promise to himself the day he realized he was different from those around him. The day he realized no one else enjoyed watching the pain of others, no one enjoyed causing it, when he observed quick movements in the opposite direction as he walked towards ppl, the day he pieced together it wasn’t normal to relish in that. Victor Zsasz promised himself that when he found someone he didn’t want to hurt, even a little bit, he wouldn’t let them escape. Lucky day, he found you. Even with his favorite torture methods & his favorite weapons, no scenario in his mind felt right, at least not the unconsentually violent ones. You’re voice fades into his mind. He hadn’t even realized he zoned out.

Zsasz? You ok there? What did you get shot fleeing? are you gonna die on me? Your real concern, hidden behind sarcasm didn’t escape him. How cute. Looking you in the eyes Victor answers.

Nah I’m to good for that. Thinking about you. Wanna make yourself a milkshake too? My treat! He slams his hand on the table, expectingly waiting for you to comply.

Well, it is a slow day, why not! Walking over to the blender, a question nags at you. Hey Zsasz? You take a deep breath again before deciding to commit. Ask ya’ a question?

Sure diner man, if you can do two things. He holds up two fingers, and opens up the jar of maraschino cherries you were struggling with. Numero uno: you can call me Victor now, you’re fun. Numer dos: let me know your name! Diner man is fun an’ all, but it’s unfair you know mine.

Victor pops a cherry in his mouth as he waits for the blender to stop. Never taking his gaze away from his new prize.

Oh shit, sorry. Totally forgot. Um, Y/N, Y/N L/N! And well, I guess I was wondering- I just wanna know- I’m curious how you do it? For the first time since the beginning of Victor’s visit, you’re too nervous to look at him. What if he thought that was too personal? You place a straw in his milkshake and slide it over to him, gasping when his hand wraps around your wrist.

Don’t get all shy on me L/N, we are having so much fun. I do a lot of things, you’re gonna have to be specific. He notices your hesitancy to continue and pulls you into him, almost spilling his milkshake as he whispers in your ear. I don’t bite, well, unless you want me to handsome. He lets you pull back and winks, sipping at his cool drink.

You do the same, hoping it will combat the heat flooding your body, hoping it’s not, but knowing it is very visible on your cheeks. Alrighty Victor, he loves how you say his name, intently locking his eyes on your fidgeting hands. How do you kill? How come the cops never catch you off guard? Why don’t you have to take it seriously?

Huh. No one’s ever asked him that. His new favorite possession is braver than most.

Because I’m good at what I do Y/N. It’s easy, just pull the trigger, push the button, stab, I could do it in my sleep. I don’t take it seriously because how’s that fun? He leans back and smiles a bit, intrigued at how much more terrified you were to ask the question than you are hearing the answer. Infact, it seems you’ve forgotten that people are supposed to be disturbed when they hear this. Y/N L/N seems almost, jealous, that Victor Zsasz can do this.

I could teach you, friend. Makes good money. Definitely more fun then a diner job. He cuts off your protest quickly. You don’t have to do the whole “I’m a good person” act, I can see it in your eyes. I don’t think you were joking when you said your losing it Y/N. You just need some one to push you along, Victor stand up, slowly walking all the way to the other side of the counter until he’s face to face with you. His lips hovering barely over yours. Let me push

You get lost in his dark eyes for a second contemplating. Maybe he’s not so crazy. Life is the crazy thing. People like Lucas were crazy. He always bugged you at your last job, constantly asking you to work overtime. Why should you have to do extra because he had a bad life? Maybe what you had done made sense. I mean the police had believed that the building burning was Jerome Valeska, they hadn’t even noticed the gun shot wound. It wouldn’t be so easy if it was wrong, right? Okay, you connect your lips, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. You pull back for air, reestablishing eye contact.

Teach me, push me over the edge

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philosopherking1887 · 1 year

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A Penguin By Any Other Name

[Apparently it has become my habit to speculate on the origins of characters’ names if they have Jewish associations (see also here and here). Also on AO3.]

“Oswald Cobblepot,” Ed said thoughtfully, rolling the syllables around his mouth as if he were tasting an unfamiliar wine.

Oswald looked up from slathering jam on his toast (he had a sweet tooth, it seemed) with a faintly annoyed expression. “Yes, Edward Nygma?”

“It’s quite a name. Did your mother give it to you?”

Oswald stared at him, nonplussed. “You haven’t said anything about a father,” Ed explained. “So I assumed it must have been your mother’s idea.”

“Yes, my mother named me,” Oswald said shortly, then took a delicate bite from the corner of his toast.

“What was her name?”

Oswald finished chewing and swallowed his bite of toast before he replied—he always ate very decorously—fixing Ed with a suspicious gaze all the while. “Why do you want to know?” he finally asked.

“Just curious. It’s not as if I can do her any harm,” Ed pointed out.

The muscles in Oswald’s jaw clenched at this reminder, and for a moment he looked as if he wanted to jump at Ed, but he just looked down into his mug of tea. “No, I suppose not,” he said tightly. “Her name was Gertrud.”

“Gertrud Cobblepot,” Ed tried. “Also quite a name.”

“Gertrud Kapelput, actually.”

Ed raised his eyebrows. “You changed your surname?”

“No, she did. She thought it would help me to have a name that sounded as English as possible.”

“Well, ‘Oswald Cobblepot’ certainly succeeds at that.”

“Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot,” Oswald amended, with a twitch of a smile.

“Wow—very English. Where did the ‘Oswald’ and ‘Chesterfield’ come from?”

“I think she found ‘Oswald’ in a book… she said she liked that it was an aristocratic English name, because it sounded like ‘Ostwald,’ which was her mother’s maiden name. She saw ‘Chesterfield’ in a magazine and just thought it sounded distinguished.”

“Isn’t that a furniture company or something?”

“Yes. They make sofas. It’s also a town in England, apparently. I looked it up once. It’s in Derbyshire, wherever that is.” He pronounced it incorrectly, like the hat plus the place where Hobbits live.

“North-west midlands,” Ed recalled, picturing a map in his head.

Oswald rolled his eyes. “Whatever that means.”

“Ostwald is German for ‘east woods.’”

“Yes.”

“I found you in the east woods.”

“What an interesting coincidence,” Oswald said insincerely. He took a long sip of tea.

“Curious that your mother changed your surname but not her own.”

“She still had a foreign accent. What good would an English name do?”

“Fair point. A German accent? Austrian?”

“She was from Hungary… but her accent was more Yiddish than anything.” Oswald stared at Ed as if daring him to say the wrong thing.

“Hmm. Kapell means ‘chapel’ in German; Pütt means a pit or a mine. So Kapelput means ‘chapel pit.’ A crypt? Or a mine near an old chapel, maybe. That seems more likely, if it’s a Jewish name.”

Oswald shrugged. “She said her family didn’t know where the name came from.”

“Did you know, it wasn’t the Jewish tradition to have hereditary surnames? They used patronymics: son or daughter of someone. People still do that in Iceland. But in the eighteenth century, civil authorities in European states started requiring everyone to have a surname that they shared with their whole family. Easier for census and taxation purposes. So Ashkenazi Jews had to make up their own surnames. Some people just turned a patronym into a family name, like Mendelssohn or Jacobson, and some used the conventional method of naming themselves for their occupation—butcher, tailor, goldsmith, or what have you. But a lot also used place names. Sometimes the city or country they were from—like Berliner, Landau, Unger, Deutscher—but often just a local landmark near where they lived. That’s why so many Jewish names end with -berg, which means mountain; or -feld, which is field; -thal, valley; or -wald, of course. Kapelput could be one of those.”

“How do you know all that?” Oswald demanded, eyes narrowed. “You’re not Jewish, are you?”

“No. I just heard it in a radio story once. I like to listen to the radio while I work—news, stories, quizzes, not music. It helps me focus. And I retain facts.”

“Including facts about penguins, apparently.”

Ed’s face split into a wide grin, without his quite intending it. “You remembered our first meeting.”

Oswald pulled his mouth into an exaggerated frown, a kind of facial shrug. His face was always so expressive. “It was fairly memorable. Most people don’t introduce themselves to me in quite that way.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so.”

“And what about your name, Edward Nygma?” Oswald asked pointedly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that last name before.”

“No, you wouldn’t have, because I made it up.”

“Of course. A man who loves riddles wouldn’t just happen to be named ‘E. Nygma’ by chance.” He smirked and took another prim bite of toast.

“Though a boy named E. Nygma would be more likely than chance to end up loving riddles.”

“Or hating them,” Oswald added, after swallowing. “Why did you change your name? Clearly you weren’t going for something that sounds English…”

Ed looked down and his hands clenched. Well, really, you should have expected that, the bolder version of his own voice drawled in his head. You’re the one who started the conversation about names.

“Had a falling-out with my parents,” he said shortly. Understatement, much? the brazen voice interjected with a snort.

“Ah. I’m sorry,” Oswald said with surprising delicacy.

“Don’t be,” Ed said brightly, forcing a smile. “No attachments means no weaknesses, remember?”

“Right, of course.” Oswald’s answering smile seemed just as forced.

“New name, new start. You became a different person when you became ‘the Penguin,’ right?”

“Yes, I suppose I did. When I stopped hating the name, anyway.”

“You made it yours, so it couldn’t hurt you anymore. You chose to become that name.”

“I guess we’ve both chosen our own names, in that respect.”

What, are we going to reclaim ‘Riddle Man’ now? ‘Psychopath’? ‘Freak’?

“And why not?” Ed retorted. “We’re free, aren’t we? We can be whoever we want.”

Oswald hummed noncommittally into his tea. They both knew that neither of them really believed that—that the names of Kristen Kringle and Gertrud Kapelput would be carved into their hearts forever, as much a part of them as their own names, and they had no choice in the matter at all.

#sorry everyone #it's getting bad #gotham fic #nygmobblepot fic #jewish oswald cobblepot #glad to see that's a tag #jewish character headcanons #gertrud kapelput #oswald cobblepot and edward nygma #you can read it shippy if you squint #oswald cobblepot #edward nygma

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kasplonkable · 1 year

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Foxma HC's

I love these bitches so much. I've finished Gotham now and lemme just say... You know that scene (spoilers for season 5 from here I guess lmao) when Ed breaks into the GCPD and is going through the files, and Lucius catches him and pushes him back with a hand on his chest?? Yeah, I've been thinking about that scene a lot. This list breaks from canon a little bit (as in, it exists in a world where they would realistically date), but oh well. Enjoy :-)

I reckon they're one of those couples where people don't even realise they're dating until something obviously lovey-dovey happens

like, they'll be at a dinner party or something and one of them maybe gets a little too drunk and kisses the other, and everyone else is like "lol that's embarrassing, Lucius and Ed just kissed" and they're like "???yeah??? We've been dating for 3 years now???"

Like, between all the hand holding, and the sharing food and clothes, everyone just thought they were really friendly with each other (but in hindsight they probably should have guessed)

they have nights where they challenge each other at board games all night. Like, they'll cycle through about 15 games in one night, and have an ongoing tally of wins pinned up on the fridge

on their anniversary, they'll buy each other a new game to add to the tournament

predictably, if they ever watch a game show on TV, they'll race to answer the question first (but every now and then, Lucius lets Ed win just to see how excited he gets about it (Ed knows this of course, but he doesn't mind so much when Lucius looks at him like that))

because they're interested in the same sort of subjects, info dumping is always a fun time for both of them (even if it's unrelated, it's still fun)

while Ed's hanging up the washing, he'll listen to Lucius rant about the intricacies and beauty of biomechanics

and then while Lucius is cooking, he'll listen to Ed rant about epigenetics

This happens a lot though, with pretty much anything...

"so they've basically got a ton of chromosomes!! And there's this one fern that has the world record for having the most!! It's called the adder's tongue fern, or Ophioglossum reticulatum, and it has up to 1,440 chromosomes!!! That's way too many!!" "And what was this called again??" "Polyploidy!! Wait, I haven't even started on Oxytricha trifallax yet!! So basically-" *heart eyes*

Ed always forgets to carry his ear defenders around, so Lucius makes sure he has a spare pair in his bag just in case Ed needs them

Lucius likes to tinker with things when he's bored

one time, Ed came home to find him surrounded by a mixture of cogs and screws only to find that he'd taken apart their toaster

"it stopped working..."

"oh, okay!! Can you fix it?"

"Yeah! It was a fairly common problem, all I needed to do was- what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

*absolute heart eyes* "I just love you is all"

there are so many books and papers around their house that it could be mistaken for a library

well, it's like that right up until the moment Ed gets overstimulated by it all, and then Lucius helps him clean it until everywhere is spotless again (this usually happens late at night, leading to the two of them cleaning until 2 AM and they can finally both sleep)

their whole house is a mixture of dark wood and warm colours. It's really lovely when one comes back and can smell a home cooked meal wafting through the corridors. That's when it especially feels like home

They have a coat hanger by the door that is always overflowing with jackets. When it finally fell over, they both had to reevaluate how many coats they actually needed

one time Ed learn how to quilt so he gave Lucius a massive quilted blanket for his birthday. It was big enough to cover their bed and checked with reds and yellows and the occasional dark green. He loved it so much that it became a permanent fixture in their room

in the winter months, when their small flat can't keep out the Gotham cold, they'll bundle under the blankets and hold onto eachother until they fall asleep

there's not really a strict big spoon or little spoon, just two people clinging to eachother in a tangle of limbs

Lucius has one of those alarms where you have to solve a maths equation before it turns off. Normally Ed would love it, but not at 5 AM...

"nghh can you just turn it off already"

"give me a second, this one's a bit challenging... actually, I'm just going to grab some paper quickly-"

"can you at least taKE THE ALARM WITH YOU?!" Ed groans as he rolls over and tries to hide from the noise in his pillow

Lucius likes to go on runs early in the morning. He enjoys the fresh air and lack of people. That and the fact that Ed is only just waking up when he gets back, sleepily kissing him and handing him a warm cup of coffee with the promise of breakfast soon after

That being said, sometimes he'll go to get up for his run only to find Ed curled into his side. It's those mornings when he decides to snooze his alarm and spend another hour or so dozing next to the love of his life

they go on cute dates to their local museum, sometimes checking out the occasional lecture happening there

They enjoy comparing notes afterwards to see what parts each of them found most interesting

But sometimes if the lecture is boring (and it's rare for either of them to find a lecture boring) they'll forgo the academic notes, and instead send messages back and fourth across the desk

Ed always expects Lucius to throw the notes away afterwards, but he keeps them at the back of his notebook

This lecture is kind of boring. He's just ranting about Crayfish?

Yes, it is slightly strange. I think I heard him say something about invasive species, but honestly I drifted off about 10 minutes ago

Do you want to grab a Chinese after this?

Yeah sure! The usual place?

Obviously

...

Love you

I love you too

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kira-7 · 1 year

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Hi @keffirinne I'm your Secret Santa this year, and this is my gift for you 🎄🎊☃️🎄🎊☃️🎄🎊☃️🎄🎊☃️💓💓💓💓 enjoy it! 💖💖💖💖

@gotham-secret-santa thank you for organising it 💖💓💖💓💖💓 and happy holidays (and/or Merry Christmas) to all of you! 🎄🎊☃️🎄🎊☃️🎄🎊☃️🎄

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Established Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Post-Canon, BDSM, Light BDSM, Dom/sub, Light Dom/sub, Dom Oswald Cobblepot, Sub Edward Nygma, But they're switching for the first time, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Ice Play, Water as Lube, Whipping, Edward Nygma's Riddles, Dirty Riddles, Teasing, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Genital Torture Words:6562

#nygmobblepot #edward nygma #oswald copplepot #gotham secret santa #nygmobblepot fanfiction #gotham fanfiction #gotham fic #made by kira

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arabriddler · 8 months

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hunger in a birdcage core

Bonus : comments that made me laugh ( affectionate )

#Gotham fic #nygmobblepot #this fic is so fun for me

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ficklefics · 2 years

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Watching You - Jerome Valeska x Reader

Arkham as a watcher. A ghost in the walls, pulling at the strings, working the Asylum into a controlled frenzy. But Jerome Valeska is a rogue element, and you won’t let him disrupt your plans. But he has his own goals, his own desires. An unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

MASTERLIST

Warnings: none

(A/N: it has been quite a while since I wrote. so hi, welcome back, nice to see ya)

Arkham’s director was old and tired. He went to the events, he shook the hands, attended the meetings and performed his role like a good little actor.

But he knew nothing of what went on in his Asylum. Not truly.

Nobody knew. The performance was strong enough, the strings pulled so perfectly, that there were no cracks in the facade. Even he assumed that the Asylum just ran itself.

You were a shadow. Working away amongst the endless rows of filing cabinets, hidden away in the archives and dark corners of the building. Barely anyone even knew your name. Your face was forgettable. Unassuming. Unimportant.

But you were everywhere. The letters left on desks, the notes on the cork boards, the phone calls the director was “too busy to make”. Nothing happened in this building without your go-ahead.

You had incidentally found yourself in the surveillance room right around the time that Mark, who was on shift, would get a hankering for a burger from the van a half-hour walk away. You were harmlessly checking the incident sheet when he stretched, groaned, and looked over at you.

“Hey, (Y/N)? Mind helping me out with something?”

“Of course.” You smile, turning to him.

“I have a… meeting,” He pulls at his collar, “That I really need to go to. Would you mind watching the cameras, just for an hour? Nothing will happen, I’m sure.”

“Sure thing, Mark.” He stands and you take his spot, resisting the urge to wince at the warmth of the seat. “See you later.”

He grabs his jacket and nods, hurrying out of the room. You follow him on the cameras as he leaves through an emergency exit. He thinks it doesn’t work. He doesn’t realise you deactivate it so he can exit from the far side of the building, the feeling of being unnoticed compensating for the longer journey. All to plan.

With him gone, your attention turned to the cameras. And to one distinct figure, a man who stood out from everybody else.

Jerome Valeska. The self-proclaimed ‘King of Arkham’. The man who could make even the Penguin dance.

It amused you to watch him holding court in the cafeteria. The swagger, the confidence, so self-consumed. Of course, if he ever went against your authority, he would be dealt with. But he was another cog in the system, one that drew attention away from you with his chaos and fire.

As you watched him, you considered what problems he might pose. Even as you observed, you saw other inmates whispering to him, passing notes, receiving and spreading instructions.

If he was planning something, you had to know about it. You wouldn’t allow any disruption to your mechanism - at least not any that was unplanned.

Over the hour, you began to formulate a plan. The pieces would have to fall into place perfectly if it was going to work, but the risk was worth it. It was time for you to meet the King of Arkham and put him in his place.

~~~

It didn’t take much to get Jerome alone in an interview room. A couple of radio calls, a mix-up of guard schedules, and looped security footage. Simple, really, when every part of the building moved under your instruction like a symphony.

He was cuffed to the table when you entered. The lock turned with a satisfying clink. Trapping him in here with you.

“Well, well, well,” He drawls, eyeing you suspiciously, “That’s not a face I recognise.” He leans forward, smirking. “And I’d never forget a face like yours.”

There was a subtle threat in the words. A threat to follow his rules or you would be dead before the next dawn.

Cute.

“Jerome Valeska. Arrested originally at 18 for the murder of your mother. Escaped a year later with the assistance of one Theo Galavan, who later killed you.” His eyes follow you as you pace the room, reciting his file from memory. Resurrected 2 years later by Dwight Pollard and his cult. You killed him and recovered your face, which he had taken. Then you were re-arrested after a so-called ‘Carnival of Terror’, and have resided in Arkham since.” You stopped directly in front of him, not quite within reach. “Have I missed anything?”

“Well-“

“No, I haven’t.” The interruption threw him off. “I know everything about you Jerome, and I thought it was past time that we had a conversation about how things work here.”

He chuckled darkly. “Somebody thinks very highly of themselves.” His head cocked, drinking you in, trying to understand the picture before him. “And who are you, to tell me how things work?”

“My name is (Y/N). I’m not that important. Just an administrator.” You smiled at the lie. “At least that’s how I look to everyone. If they even see me.” You pulled out the chair and sat in front of him. Jerome sat, thoughts whirring behind those eyes, the smile never failing. He’s intrigued. Good. “In reality? I run Arkham. I am every camera, every locked door, every flickering light. I own this place. Which means I own you.”

That makes him laugh. Not a chuckle, or a smirk, but a cackle, a howl, a burst of vicious laughter that tears through the room and would have shaken you to your bones if you hadn’t watched him for hours, preparing for this moment. If he’s irritated at your lack of reaction, he hides the frustration behind a dark grin and leans forward.

“No one owns me, sweet cheeks.”

“You can believe that all you like but it doesn’t change the fact that your stay here, whether you live or die, is all dependent on me.”

At this, he leans back. “And why, oh Queen of Arkham, am I being given this information? This secret?”

You smirked inwardly at the phrasing, knowing his own title. “You could cause a lot of problems for me, Valeska. And I’d hate to strike you down in your prime.” At this you placed a smile on your face, knowing that every move right now is critical. “So I have a proposal for you.”

He laughed again, this time a chuckle, but still so full of venom. “Are we getting married?” His eyebrows twitched suggestively.

“Not quite. I know that you are planning something, likely an escape. I want to be in the loop. Arkham and I are at our best when the destruction is precise and controlled.”

“What I’m hearing is, you don’t care if I do escape?”

“My life, without you here, will be significantly less difficult.” And far less interesting, but that’s hardly the issue. “So what do you say? Do you need time to think? I can leave you here for as long as you need.”

“You’d really leave me here, all alone, all locked up?” He rolled the words in his mouth, savouring them, letting them pour free. The only catch was the rasp that sat deep in his throat, marring everything he said.

“Is there a difference from being anywhere else in Arkham? It’s all just cells and cages. At least this one has privacy.”

“Well, I don’t need to think.” His smile widened, almost tearing at his skin. “I like games, and you seem fun to play with.”

“This isn’t a game-“

“Everything!” He slammed his cuffed hands against the table, lurching towards you like a shark. You don’t flinch. “ Everything is a game, (Y/N). This whole world is a back and forth and people play or they’re pieces. You just need to decide what you want to be.”

You thought over it. Of course, it’s already clear to you that you are a player. Nobody controls you or dictates your actions. I’ll bite. “Okay. I’ll play your game, you play mine, and when you leave we’ll both be happy on our own paths.”

His eyes still had a hungry light shining in them. “I just want one thing. A starting move, you could say.”

“And what is that one thing?” You had all the power here. You held the keys to everything. There wasn’t anything he could do that you wouldn’t allow, not really.

“Close your eyes.”

Of course, your instinct screamed at you not to. But if this was the price of cooperation, if this was what playing the game meant, you would do it.

Your eyes closed.

A brief moment of silence. Jerome’s breathing creaked around you. You felt warm air on your face.

And then his lips pressed against yours, grinning and warped and altogether horrific.

But you didn’t pull away. You didn’t know what it was; the tug in your gut, the shock, the freedom of something beyond your control - but you kept kissing him.

It was only a moment, but it felt like forever. When he pulled back, your eyes opened, and you tilted your head to ask the silent question. Why?

“I don’t get a lot of action in here. Between you and me,” He leaned in, as if sharing a secret, despite the complete privacy of the room. “Very few of these inmates meet my standards.” And I do?

“And you wanted to test just how in control I am?” Whether or not it was true, you needed the safety net of your web, of your authority, to calm the pounding of your heart.

“You could say that.”

“Not bad.”

With a sudden movement, you stood, the chair scraping on the floor.

“Thank you for your time, Jerome.” His name feels good in your mouth. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

You left the room, immediately assuming the role of the innocent admin assistant, hurrying away from Jerome’s farewell. An unending laugh that rattled through the hallways behind you.

This should be interesting.

MASTERLIST

#jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska #jerome valeska x you #gotham #gotham fanfic #gotham fic #gotham fanfiction #jerome valeska fanfic #jerome valeska fic #jerome valeska fanfiction

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nyxnygma · 2 years

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Riddles and Threats PART 1 ~ Ed Nygma

Ed Nygma/ the Riddler x Fem!Cobblepot!Reader

MASTERLIST

Summary: What happens when Penguin finds out his Cheif of Staff is sleeping with his sister.

Warning: smut at the start, sexual innuendos, cussing, anger, weapons, jealousy, over protective brother, penguin’s crush on Ed, exhibitionism?, semi-public place, Ed is quite subby at the very start of smut.

I’ll repeat it bolder that this is my first time writing anything this smutty

A/N: I’m sorry I keep doing female readers it’s just I like making Y/N other character’s sister and the other was a request. Also I love jealousy and over protective siblings fics so decided to put it into one.

The amount of times I had to rewrite bits to make Y/N not British

“Y/N..” Ed moaned as he ran his hands through my hair as I kissed down his abdomen whilst I unbuckled his belt.

“You sure you don’t want to move this into my bedroom?” I murmured, I wanted to see if he would chicken out of doing it up against the wall in the coat closet so I could tease him about it later. I was on my knees in front of him.

“I’m sure,” he replied in just above a whisper. His moaning continued as soon as I started to palm him through his boxers.

“That’s right,” I encouraged as I sped up the motion, “moan for me pretty boy.”

I knew speaking in a condensing tone would lead to consequences later on but how could I not talk to him like that when I can make him fall apart with a touch, the lewd thought forced me rub my thighs together to create friction. I slowly pulled down his briefs so his hard cock was free form the restraints and was facing me and I began to stroke his dick slowly. The tip was pink and leaking with precum. “You need to be quiet,” I shushed, “don’t want anyone to see you all weak by my hand, do you?”

“No.” I could tell -with the strain in his voice that- he was trying his best to suppress his loud moans whilst I was speeding up my hand movements before swirling my tongue around the tip and pushing my mouth down so his cock was fully in mouth.

His soft hands clenched my hair as I bobbed my head slowly at first but speeding up every second. Every time he was about to reach his climax, I would stop what I was doing momentarily before carrying on, leaving him all sweaty and frustrated. However when i did that for the fourth time, he held my head in place and pounded furiously into my mouth, forcing me to gag on his cock as it hit the back of my throat repeatedly. He would pull out almost fully, letting me breath through my nose for a second, before roughly thrusting back in fully. It didn’t take him long to reach his climax and explode in my mouth.

Hours passed and the four of us (Ed, Oswald, Butch and I) were working on the study, Butch was cleaning his guns and putting more ammo in them. He kept give Ed and me side glances, like he knows something. Shit.

“What were you two doing today?” Butch asked us with a fake smile.

“We we’re looking for the papers you lost,” Ed answered, not bothering to look up from the sheets in front of him. He wasn’t lying, we were initially in the closet to see if Butch dropped the papers out of his coat pocket.

“That is strange,” Butch hummed as he tapped his lips with his index finger as if he was thinking about it, “I could‘be sworn I heard Ed grunting Y/N’s name from the coat cupboard.”

This caught Oswald’s attention as he looked between me and my lover. He could never find out the truth since I knew he has a thing for Ed. “Get your mind our the gutter, Gilzean. I was merely reaching for step-mother’s retched hat from the high shelf and Ed kindly helped me. I stepped on his foot that’s all.” I shook my head in astonishment.

Oswald seemed contempt with my answer and carried on with whatever work he was doing. “Oh but when I walked in to investigate the noise thinking someone hung similar, I found you kneeling down in front of him ss he head was thrown back with his eyes scrunched up.”

“Really had a good look. perv,” I whispered.

“What?!” Oswald shouted as he stood up and slammed his hands onto the desk, “my sister?!”

“Oswald. Oswald. I can explain,” Ed put his hands up in surrender as The Penguin approached him, cane in hand.

Part 2 coming soon..

#gotham fic #ed nygma #Gotham #gothamsmut #the riddler #ed nygma x reader #ed nygma fic #Ed nygma smut #the penguin #oswald cobblepot

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