rosewrites

Jay Halstead x Fem! Reader

Warning: Age gap (22 year old reader)

WC: once again idk

AN: this is a long one :). Super angsty. Working on pt of “career day” now. Please don’t forget to send in requests. Oh, not my gif :). Side note: posting 2 times a week.

———————

All of the memories replaying in the back of your mind as you lay in bed. They were picture perfect, a little too perfect. You hesitate, reaching for your phone laying on your nightstand. You sigh, looking up at the rapidly moving ceiling fan. The weight of pain settles over you all at once. It’s been months since you two cut things off. The ache of missing him has grown stronger, no matter how hard you try to fight it.

You close your eyes, trying to find peace in the quiet of your room. It doesn’t help. The memories of his touch, voice, and the little moments you thought would last forever replay in your mind. You fight the urge as hard as you can, but no use. You open your phone. Heart pounding in your ears. You scroll through your contacts until you see his name. “Jay”. You click it. The phone is ringing.

“Halstead ”, he answers. Sleep fills his voice and suddenly you feel a sense of guilt for calling this late.

“Uh-“, you’re stumbling over your words. “I know I said I wouldn’t call and I would give you space, but- I-“, you pause. “Hey Jay.”

You hear him shuffle over the phone, he lets out a groan. You can tell he rolled over to turn on his lamp. You look over at your clock, it’s 1:15am. Yeah, you made a mistake. “Hey, Y/N.” You smile slightly. Hearing your name from his mouth always sounds like honey. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah”, you twiddle with the strings on your, well his sweatpants that you refused to return. “Well…”

“What?”

“I need you…” your heart begins pounding faster as you let that simple phrase escape your lips.

“I’m sorry?” He says with sleepy confusion.

“I can’t go without you anymore, I need you now”, you blurt out. You’ve lost control of your words.

“Y/N”, he sighs, pressing his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose. “Y/N I-“, you don’t give him the opportunity to speak before hanging up the phone, turning it on airplane mode and laying it back on your nightstand.

‘That the hell was I thinking?’

————————

What you didn’t know, is that Jay had been waiting for your call. Not for days, not even weeks, but for months since you walked out his door. Every night after his shift he sat on his couch, watching the door wishing you’d come sweeping in the way you did before. Here he was again, waiting, hoping, praying that you would call back, repeat yourself so he can say the same thing to you. He debates calling you back, he’s up now, he makes his way to the kitchen pouring himself a drink. He stands over the brown liquid sitting on the counter. He sighs putting the glass cup to his lips and taking a sip, it burns. It washes away the confusion that sat in his throat. He decides to send you a text, “I wondered if I ever crossed your mind. I’ve been thinking about you everyday.” He places his phone on the counter, finishing his drink and making his way back to the empty bed where you once laid waiting for him on those long shifts.

———————

You eventually make your self fall asleep, but you are rudely awaken by your mother’s obnoxiously loud boyfriend getting ready for work. You toss and turn trying to find a comfy spot with an attempt to ignore him. “Why did I move back?” You groan.

The morning creeps through your childhood room. You, groggy from the long night, and rude awakening pull the covers over your head, successfully shielding your eyes from the sun. You get a few more hours of rest before you peel yourself from your pink butterfly bed set. Your instinct tells you to check your phone, but your body ignores it and you make your way down your old Chicago home to the kitchen where your mom stands making you breakfast.

“Good morning sunshine”, she chirps barely removing her gaze from the pancakes on the stove top. You grunt in response. “Ah, that’s my twenty-two teen daughter”, you roll your eyes.

“Mom, I’m not-“

“Have you heard from that man?”

“Yeah”, you tap your finger on the coffee mug.

“And…”, she ponders.

“Nothing.” You frown.

“I’m sorry, I really liked him”

“Yeah me too”, you take a sip of the coffee.

————————-

Your day drags, all you do is sit and think about the text you saw on your phone while getting ready for the gym. How should you respond? Should you even respond? What if you’re already blocked?

You’re drawn out of your show by a phone call, “Jay” the name reads. “Hello?”

“Hey”, he sounds tired. “Your call last night… I didn’t expect it. I wanted to make sure you are okay. My text delivered.”

“Yeah.”

“Can we meet today?” You practically jump off the couch at the question.

“I-uh-“, stammering, “sure, where? What time?”

“I’ll pick you up in 10.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah”, you smile over the phone.

——————-

You hear his loud Ram 1500 pull up the driveway, it’s low rumble recognizable even from your child hood bedroom. You breathe, walking down the stairs and out the door.

He, already waiting outside, opens the door for you and offers a hand to assist you into the passenger side. The heat is on , you peel your jacket off before putting your seatbelt on. He follows suit. You smile at him before fixing your gaze out the window as he begins to drive. “Where are we going?”

“Dinner.”

“Where?”

“Adam and Kim’s, they invited you too.” You cocked an eyebrow. You babysit for Mack on occasion, but never got invited to dinner.

“Sounds fun!”

“I actually want to talk before we get there. I mean we have a good bit of time before we get there.” You turn to him, listening intently to his words. “I, uh…I miss you so much.” Your heart melts at these words, “I need you, not just now, but for the rest of my life.”

“Oh.” You’re taken aback, “Jay, I do too, but-“ he cuts you off.

“I didn’t mean when I said that, I was angry. Not at you, but with myself and for the person who I became. You didn’t deserve that…”

“Oh.”

“Listen, I love you y/n. I’m scared of loving you. You’re an amazing woman. I don’t want to change you.”

“I love you too.” You smile at him. He turns to meet your eyes for a second before turning back to the road ahead of him.

“What if we try again? This time, we do it right.”

Detective Joe Velasco x teacher!reader

Warnings: this is a law and order fanfic. However, this is not in regards to any sensitive content on the show. However reader’s discretion is advised. There are no content warnings except maybe some language.

WC: Not sure, just vibes!

A/N: Officially a first year teacher guys! I teach the Pre-k! So I’ve been MIA because I’ve been going through life. I hope you guys enjoy this. I have been writing, none of them have just gotten posted bc they’re not great, but I’m posting this one because if you can’t find them…write them. Taking requests too (specifically Chicago PD, Law and Order, and our Marvel faves)! Uhhh…not my pictures:). Edit: seen some discourse in my asks by anon people about my tags. So I removed them. I didn’t know it was that big of a deal

———————————-

September means Career week. It’s one month into the new school year, your first year at that. You attended college in Georgia, yet somehow you found yourself in New York, living with your uncle Terry.

“Just to get you on your feet”, he told you.

It wasn’t the ideal situation, but there was a job opening in a prestigious Manhattan private school and compared to the county that was your other option at the time…this was a no brainer.

You have spent all of August asking around, seeing who’s available to come speak with your students about their careers. You found at least one school appropriate job for each day of the week. Unfortunately, the construction worker decided to cancel last minute.

——————————-

“I’m sorry”, the man says over the telephone phone. You sigh sinking down onto your desk.

“Yeah it’s fine, I appreciate the heads up”. You hang up the phone placing it in the drawer on your desk. You feel defeated. Friday is coming quick.

In the silent classroom a knock on the decorated door breaks you out of your sulking. “You okay?” Your uncle Terry stands in the doorway a white paper bag in one hand and a drink trey in the other.

You smile seeing him and the food of course. “My Friday presenter canceled”, you wave him into the room. He obliges setting the food on your desk freeing his hands to grab a chilled sized chair and pull it across from you.

“Really?” The paper bag rustling around as he unwraps the sandwiches.

“Yes! I don’t know what to do now. Oh…they’re gonna be devastated”, you groan. He chuckles taking a bite of his sandwich. “What the hell is funny?”, your southern accent sticking out in contrast to the Northern accents that surround you.

“Your accent gets thick when you get upset”, you roll your eyes. “I think I know what to do.”

You perk up a bit, “are you coming?”

“No, it’s a busy week. I have to testify on Friday”, you take a stress bite of the sandwich, “…but…”

“Dude the suspense is killing me.”

“I know a guy. Old friend of mine. He would love to do it.” Your eyes light up with relief and excitement. Standing up to hug your uncle. He smiles to hugging you back, just happy to have you around again.

———————————

“Velasco”

“Hey kid, it’s Bruno”

“Yo, what’s up?”

“I need a favor.” Terry leans up against his black undercover car.

“What kind?” Joe asks sighing.

“You’re free Friday, correct?”

“Yeah”, he responds with hesitation lingering in his voice, “I just have that undercover debriefing with Benson in the evening.”

“Good, I need you to step in as the guest speaker on Friday for my niece”, he pauses, “first grade career day.”

“Shit.”

————————————-

Friday arrives, and so does Joe. Your students were not as upset as you thought they would be when you broke the news that there was no construction worker coming today.

You introduce today’s career with a short video explaining the role of police officers as well as detectives. You instruct them to color in a picture of an officer uniform from memory. There are definitely some interesting color combinations going on.

You finish taking up all the pictures and place them on your desk. A knock rings across the silent classroom, your teacher assistant jumps out of his seat and runs to the door. “Who are you?”, he asks in a sassy tone. The rest of your students turn to look at the door.

“Detective Velasco.”

“Detective? What’s that”, the boy crosses his arms.

“Well.” He chuckles, “that’s what I’m here for. Are you gonna let me in?”

“Miss Y/L/N, am I allowed to let this man in?”, his tone still cheeky.

“Yes, Landon let him in”, you smile eyes locking with the handsome man struts into the classroom. You guess your uncle forgot to mention how attractive this man is, probably because you are his niece. He’s tall, much taller than you. His frame is strong and towers over you and the students. His all black outfit brings out his strong facial features, and oh how he smells so good. “Good morning detective.” You try your hardest to hide the slight red flowing to your cheeks. You reach to shake his hand and he follows suit, suddenly the room fills with “ooooohhhs” from your students. “Guys, hush”, you whisper to your students.

———————

“And yeah so that’s it!” He ends his presentation. The room is quiet, your students are in awe, you are mesmerized by a handsome man with such a big heart. “Questions?” Still silent.

“Do you think our teacher is pretty?” Leave it to Landon to ask that.

“Landon!” You scold, “that’s inappropriate and NOT related to anything he was talking about.” The students giggle, you blush.

“Oh-“, he pauses and looks at you, “well-“

“Don’t answer that detective”, you dismiss. “Please”, you let out a soft laugh before walking up to the front of the class. “Please say thank you to the detective.”

“Thank you!”

Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: NONE

Word count: 897

A/n: Im in Ga and theres a chill in the air…so that’s my reasoning for this. I apologize for not uploading. Please enjoy this. Feedback and reposts are always appreciated 🫶.

———————————————————————————

Jason Tod x F!reader

Warning: none

Word Count: 897

After a night of endless swiping left, you stumble across him, possibly the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Your eyes glued to his profile, you swear drool was practically slipping from your mouth. Without hesitation, you snap a quick screenshot to send to your best friend before eagerly swiping right.

“MATCH!” flashes across the screen in bold green letters the moment you do.

You practically start bouncing up and down in bed, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. A goofy smile spreads across your face as you fire off a text to your friend:

“Girl… we matched!”

You sigh, shutting off your phone for the night, with these apps you never get to excited for a text back so it slowly fades out your mind as you drift off to sleep.

Beep, beep, beep! Your alarm blares in your ear. Groaning, you roll over and slam it off before dragging the blanket over your head, desperate to block out the sunlight stabbing through your window. Safe in your makeshift cocoon, you fumble for your phone and bring it under the covers. The screen lights up your face, a flood of notifications scrolling past your eyes until one catches your attention.

*new message from Jason*: “Good morning, I hope you didn’t make any plans for today, the pumpkin patch is open”, the message reads. Your cheeks heat instantly, and a smile tugs at your lips. Heart fluttering, you tap the notification, which pulls you into the chat thread.

You swiftly respond, “no plans. What time are you thinking :)?” Biting your lip you peel yourself from the bed, and begin your morning routine.

Steam still clings to your skin as you step out of the shower, towel wrapped tightly around you. Reaching for your phone, a fresh notification lights up the screen—Tinder: “I’ll pick you up at about 6.”

“Sounds good!” You say simply following this, your address and phone number is sent. Your eyes dart straight to the clock. 10:45 a.m. Relief washes over you; you’ve got hours to prepare. The butterflies in your stomach are already starting to stir, but you distract yourself by calling your best friend. The moment she picks up, you’re practically bubbling as you spill the news, pacing your small apartment while talking through the details. Between laughter and squeals from the other end, you manage to juggle a few light chores—loading the dishwasher, straightening the throw pillows on your couch, and folding the blanket that somehow always ends up tossed across the floor.

Each little task feels like a countdown to the evening, the quiet hum of anticipation settling over you like the crisp air sneaking in through the cracked window.

The afternoon slips away in a blur of chores folding: laundry, wiping down counters, double-checking that the bathroom mirror is spotless. By the time you finally glance at the clock, it’s almost five, and your pulse kicks up. You hurry into your room, laying out the outfit you’d been debating over for days. Makeup, hair, the finishing touches every step feels both frantic and deliberate, your excitement bubbling just beneath the surface.

By the time the clock strikes six, you’ve just slipped on your shoes. A low rumble outside your window pulls your attention—his motorcycle. He’s here. Right on the dot, as promised.

You smooth your hands over your clothes, heart hammering as you grab your bag and head for the door.

—————————-—————————-————-

Just based on how he looks, uncomfortable, it’s easy to say he’s not a fall festival kind of guy, but he just knows how to make a girl smile. His arms are wrapped around your shoulder keeping you close by his side as you two navigate Gotham’s fall festival. The air was filled with the smell of fresh apple cider, kettle corn, and roasted nuts. The air was crisp against your face causing a natural blush. You are in your happy place, in the arms of a handsome man standing in the crisp fall air.

You guys are chatting and stumble upon a Carmel Apple stand. Your eyes light up, he takes the hint, “would you like one?” He asks

“Oh! Definitely!” You reply reaching for your wallet. He stops you and pulls out his instead.

“Ah. No ma’am”, he hands the guy a $5 and reaches for the Apple. His hands covered in a sticky Carmel mess. You smile grabbing it out his hand with a smile. Your eyes light mouth thank you before taking a big bite out of the sweet Carmel shell.

The evening wares on, he beats you at carnival games, and only God knows how many stuffed bears you have by now.

“You know what?” He trails

“Hmm?” You blissfully hum

“I’ve never done anything normal in a while.”

You giggle looking up into his eyes.

———————————————————————-

The ride back to your house was filled with bliss. You gave some of your stuffed animals to the kids running around, and you kept one that looked kind of like Jason. Yoh clutched it tight between you two as tight as possible. When you arrived back to your home, you feel dread. Not wanting this night to end with him, but you knew it had to.

———————————————————————

Battinson x teacher!f!reader

wc: 990

Summary: You take a shopping trip with Bruce’s card to stock up on your favorite things. You see him struggling to remove his makeup one morning, and you help him take it off. He does the same thing after a long day of work.

Warnings: None, pure tooth rotting fluff

——————————————————————

Bruce could never take off his eyeliner properly. He would rub his eyes raw with soap and water, and for some reason it wouldn’t come off with as much ease as yours did. He would borrow your eyeliner from time to time, the water proof stuff, and he thought that was issue. Yet, when it was time for bed he’d still have remnants of his batman eyeliner smeared on his eyes.

When you came home one afternoon with a Sephora bag he was quite intrigued by your purchases with his credit card.

“Hey baby!”, you speak loudly from the entry way, “I wanna show you everything!”, you kick off your shoes and make your way into the living area where Bruce is sitting watching the news. He turns to you muting the tv. You kiss his forehead before taking a spot next to him on the couch.

It always seems like you two are polar opposite, through energy, clothes, color, interests, but you two still seem to find a way to love each other. Today he’s wearing a basic black on black sweat suit, but you however an elementary schoolteacher was wearing your favorite white tennis skirt and a hot pink tank top for your day off. Your makeup was beautiful, and you decided to do a touch of eyeshadow for your shopping trip.

“Show me what you got baby”, a slight smile tugs at his lips. You smile widely dumping out the contents from the bag, “wow that’s a lot!”, his eyebrows rising, “which card was this on?”

“The Black Amex one”, you pause, “I think”, your smile still wide. He just sighs.

“Baby, you’re so lucky i love you”, you giggle at his response handing him the card from your purse, “Alright now show me everything!”, his voice lined with sarcastic cheer.

You go through all the products, what they’re used for and why you need them. He doesn’t quite understand it, but he loves seeing your face light up when you explain everything to him.

“Oh! and this! this is my FAVORITE, makeup remover. it’s like a balm and it’s old based it’s awesome! it even removes my eye liner!”, holding up a bottle of Fenty Cleansing Balm.

Bruce’s eyes light up, you said it “removes eyeliner?”

“mhmm! even my waterproof stuff, it’s great”, you smile.

“Do you think I could maybe try it soon? like tonight?”, he asks softly.

“oh! Of course my love!” nodding your head, “I can even show you how to use it!”, and with that a genuine smile plasters all over his face.

Later that night Bruce plants a kiss on your lips before he leave for patrol leaving you and Alfred alone in the Manor. You’re nestled under the covers of your shared bed reading one of your favorite books with a cup of tea by your side. He’s never here to share these moments with you like your coworkers partners, who sit with them while they grade papers or make lesson plans. For you, that’s okay, because during the day Bruce is by your side with lavish gifts, support, and during the school year he drops by the school once a week for storytelling. Finishing your chapter, you roll over pulling the string to the lamp and you close your eyes to sleep.

—-

Your alarm blares, and you hear Bruce walking into the room, ‘5:30 am’. You get out of bed to begin your morning routine, while Bruce begins his night routine. You meet him in the bathroom, and see him trying to take his makeup off. “Good morning Brucey”, you hum.

“Morning, love”, his voice husky.

“D’you need some help?”, you smile sleepily. He nods, you open the cabinet under the sink pulling out your makeup remover you baught yesterday. “okay, so this is how it works”, you squeeze out a bit from the tube emulsifying it in your hand before rubbing gentle circles around his eyes removing the black makeup slowly. You direct him to wash his face under water before taking micellar water to wipe away the rest. “There you go baby, all clean. are you headed off to bed?”

“For a little bit, i have to go through some evidence about the Riddler character.”

“Promise me you’ll sleep for at least three hours”, your voice sweet.

“yeah”, he says plainly mustering up a facetious smile. You stand up on your tip-toes and plant a kiss on his forehead before scooting him out the bathroom to shower.

—-

You were exhausted, the kids were obnoxious, the school smelled awful from whatever they were cooking in the cafeteria, and during morning work a kid puked seconds away from the bathroom door. It was truly one of your worse days as an educator and that’s saying a lot. You walk through the front door greeting Alfred, and planting yourself in the den enjoying the silence that you’ve been craving all day. You exhale deeply soaking up all the couch’s plush warmth.

“Babe?”, a voice can be heard from the door way, “you okay?”, Bruce asks.

“i’m okay, just a long day”, you smile lazily.

“Rough day?”

“Something like that”, you sit up on the couch and Bruce takes a seat beside you. He brings you into a cuddle hug, running his fingers through your hair. You move further into his embrace letting his motions relax your mind. “I need food ASAP, i’m starving.”

“Alfred is working on dinner”, his voice low, “want to take that makeup off?”

You nod simply before standing up and following him into the master bathroom. He ushers you to sit down on the closed toilet seat just as you did this morning to him. He pulls out your makeup remover from beneath the sink and follows the same steps you showed him earlier.

He gives a tender kiss on your forehead , “s’beautiful”, he compliments, you smile, reaching up to plant a kiss on his lips.

Remy LeBeau(Gambit) x M!reader

wc: 790

Summary: A young man takes a visit to an art exhibition not expecting to run into someone who he may never see again!

A/N: Hello, hello! i’m so sorry that this took so long, and i’m so sorry about how short it is. I am obsessed with the meet cute trope right now so that’s what you’re getting… i mean it (i’m sorry i’m being sarcastic)! I’m still trying to work on formatting and aesthetic of my page so thank you for your patience! Also, this is my last Gambit post until further notice! i’m still taking requests, but there’s already five and i want to work on our other faves!

Request by: @gambitsversion

Warnings: language, alcohol, meet cute!!

——————————————————————

Jazz music hummed, and the smell of Beignets, liquor, and smoke filled the air of New Orleans. Y/n makes his way into an art gallery nestled in between two historic buildings, the heat and humidity being left far behind. His eyes gazes upon the room, it’s small, but all the art was large and filled with personality he smiles looking at the beautiful art.

He begins to wander the exhibit taking in each art piece. His eyes lands on a large painting, it’s abstract. He looks at every purple, black, electric detail; he reads the pamphlet, but can’t seem to find the artist of this piece.

“It’s pretty, ain’t it?”, a voice speaks behind him.

Y/n turns his gaze from the painting meeting a pair of oddly black and red eyes. He’s smirking his back is up against the wall, nonchalant and confident. He’s brown leather coat draped over his broad shoulders, and his auburn hair put up, is slightly hued purple from the light in the room.

“I guess so”, he states curiously studying the man, “i’m not really into this.”

The man removed himself from the wall raising an eyebrow, “No? you don’t like it?”

He shrugs, “it feels a bit…chaotic, i don’t really get it.”

“Ah, i see”, he chuckles, “mon ami, sometimes chaos is the meaning”, he smiles.

“Yeah, i guess so”, he smiles back, “and do you happen to be the artist of this chaotic masterpiece?”, pointing his thumb behind him.

“Nah”, he shakes his head, “da name’s Remy, Remy LeBeau, but da people call me da Gambit”, he picks up a glass off a tray, “i like good art and liquor.”

He extends his hand to shake, “y/n”, he says; Remy shakes his hand with a firm grip. Remy smiles and my gosh it’s intoxicating, y/n can’t help, but blush.

“what brings ya over here?”, Remy asks taking a sip of his drink.

“I needed to get away.”

“Away from what?”

“y’know…life?”, he chuckles.

“Why NOLA then? You know it ain no escape”, Remy questions.

“It’s beautiful”, y/n smiles.

“Well, you’s a brave one for comin out here during hurricane season.”

Y/n’s heart flutters, his freckled cheeks growing warm as the conversation continues, “Are you from here?”

“Born and raised, cher”, he smiles.

“Well then I may need a tour guide tomorrow”, y/n bashfully smiles.

“Maybe cher, do ya believe in fate?”, Remy took a couple steps closer to Y/n. The world around him seems to slow down, his breath hitches at the realization of the lack of space.

He clears his throat, “never really thought of it”, his temperature rising, his heart is pounding, yet his thoughts are slow and steady.

“Damn, mon cher, i thought fate was the reason you were here in front of me right now”, he smirks. His eyes lingering on y/n’s face as if he was studying every feature, every freckle, and every imperfection. Y/n feels as though he could melt in Remy’s hands if he would allow it.

Y/n’a heart is racing, at the sudden flirtation from the stranger, “do you always flirt with strangers?”, he asks.

“only tha strangers I like”, he responds.

“Oh, I see”, y/n smirks, he was enamored by him. He was drawn to him, his aura, his eyes, everything, “for some reason, i feel as though you do this a lot, and they fall for it”, Remy just rolls his eyes and chuckles.

“Maybe so, but mon cher, right now it’s only you.”

Y/n is silent; he isn’t able to make sentences. It’s like Remy is hypnotizing him in this moment. He’s finally able to form some type of words Remy interrupts y/n’s thoughts.

“Ya know what, cher…give ol’ Remy a chance”, his voice is teasing, yet the tone is still serious, “then maybe you’ll understand where i’m coming from”, he smiles.

In a swift, smooth motion, Gambit slides the Ace of Hearts card into Y/N’s hand, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s skin for just a moment longer than necessary. Y/N looks down at the card, then back up at Gambit, who was already starting to walk away, casting a final, lingering glance over his shoulder.

“Think about it, cher,” Gambit calls reaching for the door. “Might just be the best gamble you ever take.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Y/N standing in the gallery, heart racing and a smile tugging at his lips. He glances down at the Ace of Hearts in his hand, feeling the flutter of excitement that Gambit had left in his wake.

-🖤

Hope this is what you need right now my love 🖤

Resurrected Hearts

Jason Todd x gn!reader

wc:2,000

summary: Jason Todd is back, but how?

Warnings: Language, mentions of cheating…i guess, aged up Jason Todd, mentions of death, alcohol abuse

——————————————————————

It had been exactly one year since Jason passed away, and you still hadn’t fully moved on. At times, it felt like he was right there beside you—sitting, sleeping, or watching over your shoulder as you cooked, ensuring everything was perfect. You tried to get on with your life. You went on dates, moved into a new apartment, and even returned to work at the school. Occasionally, life seemed to regain some sense of normalcy, but then a wave of dread would wash over you, a constant reminder of the piece of you that was missing—a piece no one else could ever fill.

In time, you found ways to cope: a few too many bottles of your favorite alcohol and fleeting, meaningless hookups. Of course, you still visited the Waynes, but without Jason, things felt different. Bruce was different. He barely looked at you, and when he spoke, his words were sharp, almost biting. After a while, you limited your visits. It became too painful. Your life felt like it was unraveling, hanging by a fragile, frayed thread—red and black, barely holding together.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass jolted you awake. The room was pitch black, and your dog leapt off the bed, barking furiously at the crash in the living room. You cracked open the door, letting her rush after the intruder, whoever or whatever it might be. You hesitated, your hand hovering over your phone. Should you call 911? Something in your gut told you it wasn’t necessary—either your Dutch Shepherd would handle it, or maybe… just maybe… it could be him.

Daisy’s barking quieted, her growls fading. Whoever was in your living room was someone both of you knew. The smell of earth and death filled the air as you cautiously made your way out of bed, flipping on the light.

You screamed. There, sitting comfortably on your couch, was someone you thought you’d never see, holy shit.

“Jason?” you whispered, barely able to recognize him. The moonlight behind him cast shadows over his features. His skin was ghostly pale, his hair longer than the last time you saw him, with streaks of gray threading through it. He looked… dead. “Jason? Is that you?” you asked again, your voice trembling as you called Daisy to your side. Silence hung in the air as the figure remained seated on the couch you and Jason once shared. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Don’t,” the person spoke, his voice low and strained. You stared at him, and he stared back, his piercing gray-blue eyes locking onto yours. “Just don’t call them. I’ll leave. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Wait—Jason? Please, is that you?” you blurted, recognizing his voice, though it sounded different—raspier, older, darker. “Please, it has to be you,” you pleaded, taking a cautious step toward him. Jason nodded, slowly rising from the couch.

“Wait, please… stay,” you urged, holding out your hand. “Can we get you cleaned up?”

“After we cover up the window,” he replied softly. You managed a small smile as he moved toward a pile of cardboard boxes in the corner of the living room. He pulled one out, cutting it to fit over the shattered glass. he duck tapes the cardboard in place before following you into the bathroom. you ran the warm water, helping him strip off his suit before guiding him into the shower. “my shampoo?” he points to the bottle of blue berry old spice on your shower rack.

“No, my body wash—it smelled like you,” you said softly, pointing to the bottle of Head & Shoulders. “This is the shampoo we used.” He nods in quiet acknowledgment.

You grab a washcloth, moving slowly, carefully, as if any sudden motion might scare him away. He seems to shrink beneath your touch, curling in on himself. Gently, you rub soft circles of the body wash onto his back and arms. Dirt and mud swirls down the drain, but you kept your touch feather-light, afraid that if you press too hard, his fragile skin might crumble in your hands.

“Why’d you move?” he asked quietly as you continued massaging shampoo into his hair. It was the second wash—so much dirt was caked into his locks. “Took me s’long to find you,” he mumbled under his breath.

“The lease was up,” you replied softly, knowing it wasn’t the whole truth. “Lean your head back.” He obediently tilted his head, letting the suds cascade from his hair. He hummed, clearly not buying your excuse, but said nothing more.

You gently ran your fingers through his hair, rinsing out the last of the shampoo. Once his hair was clean, you applied a final round of shampoo before adding conditioner, carefully working through the tangled knots.

You tried your best, but the smell of death still clung to him, stubborn and unyielding. After helping him out of the shower, he dried himself off while you handed him some of his old clothes. They didn’t fit anymore—he was taller, broader than you remembered. Even so, you laid him down on your bed, tucking the blankets tightly around him.

“Are you gonna sleep with me?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you replied. He smiled faintly, his eyes drooping as he drifted off to sleep.

But you didn’t join him. Instead, you sank into the armchair across from the bed, a bottle of Jameson gripped tightly in your hand. You watched him sleep. His eyes flickered beneath his lids as if caught in some vivid dream. His body jerked and thrashed under the covers, sweat beading on his brow. Yet, no matter how restless his sleep became, he didn’t wake. you stayed like this for hours not moving unless you had to pee, and eventually the sun began to rise through your window shades. you sigh thankful that it’s saturday and you have all day to sleep whatever this is off.

“Y/N?” he groaned sleepily, his voice raspy.

“Jason… you’re awake!” You leapt from the armchair and rushed to his side. His eyes slowly lifted to meet yours as you sat beside him, and he smiled softly.

“How? What—” you began, your words tumbling out in disbelief.

“It’s a long story,” he chuckled weakly, his gaze distant.

“Jason, please… I need to know. How are you alive?”

He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Ra’s al Ghul… the Lazarus Pit,” he began slowly. “It’s a pool that can heal, even bring people back from the dead. I don’t know all the details, but after I died… someone put me in it. The Pit brought me back, but…” His voice trailed off, and he looked away.

“But what?” you pressed, your heart racing.

“It changes you,” he whispered. “You come back, but you’re not the same. There’s anger, a darkness… it’s hard to control.” He met your eyes again, the weight of what he’d been through evident. “I’ve been fighting that ever since.”

“Jason… why did you smell like death? And why were you covered in mud? if you’ve been back for a while?”

His smile faded as he turned his gaze to the ceiling, as though looking for an answer. “I’ve been staying in places where no one would think to look for me.”

“Mud and death?” you pressed, trying to understand.

He sighed, his voice low. “Graveyards, alleyways… the places no one goes. It’s where I felt like I belonged after I came back. I didn’t know how to face you—or anyone else—like this. I wasn’t sure if I could control… whatever this is inside me.”

Your heart ached at his words. “So you’ve been living like that… all this time?”

Jason nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t think I could come back. The Lazarus Pit changes you, Y/N. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be the same again—or if I even wanted to be.”

You gently reached for his hand. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters”, he looks at you, his eyes fill with sorrow, and you swear you can see tears, but Jason never cries.

“did you sleep?”

“no”, you admit dropping your gaze to your knees. you feel his disapproving stare.

his eyes lift over to the half empty bottle on the floor beside the chair. “have you been drinking?”, you nod, he lets out a sigh, reaching out a hand to your face, “why baby?”

you follow his gaze to the bottle on the floor, you sigh, feeling the weight of your own emotions. “I guess… it was my way of coping,” you admitted quietly. “After you… after you were gone, everything fell apart. It was like nothing could fill that space where you used to be. I tried, but nothing worked. And sometimes… sometimes the drinking made it easier to forget for a little while.”

Jason’s face softened, guilt flashing across his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to leave you like that.”

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill. “It’s not your fault, Jason. But it hurt. Losing you… it broke something in me. I just didn’t know how to deal with it.”

He reached out and gently took your hand, squeezing it lightly. “I’m here now,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ll make it right. Somehow.”

“i don’t think you can”, you slur softly. he tilts his head.

“why?”, his eyebrow furrows.

“I was lost without you… and drinking wasn’t the only thing.” You paused, trying to steady your breath, feeling the weight of what you were about to say. “I hooked up with people… meaningless, empty hookups, just trying to feel something, anything… something to fill the hole you left.”

Jason’s expression darkened, but not with anger—more with sadness and regret. He stayed silent for a moment, processing your words, before finally meeting your gaze. “I wasn’t there, and I should’ve been,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. But you don’t have to do that anymore… “

You could barely hold back the tears threatening to spill. “I didn’t know how to deal with losing you,” you admitted. “I’m not proud of it.”

Jason reached out, taking your hand gently. “I understand,” he said quietly. “We’ve both been through hell. But we can figure it out together”, his reassurance makes your heart swell, and the tears finally break through. he pulls you on-top of him as you cry onto him.

“how did you find me Jason?”, you continued to cry.

He let out a soft sigh, looking away for a second before meeting your gaze again. “It took me a while,” he admitted. “After I came back… I didn’t want to be found at first. But when I finally felt ready, I started looking for you.”

“But I moved—how did you know where I was?” you pressed, still not quite believing he was sitting in front of you.

Jason leaned back slightly, running a hand through his now-clean hair. “I kept tabs on you. I know it sounds bad, but I had to make sure you were okay… without showing myself. I’ve been watching from a distance, piecing together where you’d gone, tracking little things—like your name on utility bills, credit card activity. Even Bruce’s systems helped, though I didn’t want him to know I was looking.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “You used Bruce’s tech?”

Jason chuckled darkly. “I’m not proud of it. But I needed to know where you were, especially when I saw you’d moved. I just… I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “So, you’ve been watching me this whole time?”

“Not like that,” he said quickly. “Just enough to know you were safe. When I finally decided to come back, I knew where to find you.”

“wow”, you sniffle out between your cries, “Jason i’m so sorry.”

“oh my love, you did nothing wrong bunny, none of this is your fault”, he cops softly stroking your hair, “we are together now and that’s all that matters now, yeah?”

Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

wc: 1,400

Summary: you are awarded a scholarship for you to pursue your masters degree.

warnings: non really just light language, and a bit of an age gap! pic from pinterest!

this is for all my teachers and my fellow college students studying to be a teacher. this is him praising us basically! happy reading 🫶

——————————————————————

Your black cocktail gown, lined with sequins, shimmered under the lights of Gotham U’s over-the-top banquet hall. The room buzzed with laughter—faculty, classmates, donors, and Gotham’s elite mingled in animated conversations. With a champagne flute in one hand and your clutch in the other, you observed the crowd. You watched how they talked, how they moved, and how they stood, mentally preparing yourself to slip into their world when you decided to engage.

You take a seat at your assigned table, and beside you sits your mentor, the woman who had been by your side since your freshman year of undergrad. She had guided you through countless hardships and was the one who nominated you for the B.W.E. scholarship. As you glance over her shoulder, your eyes land on him. You never expected to see him out in the wild, yet there he was—Bruce Wayne, larger than life.

Bruce looked striking, his impeccably tailored suit fitting him perfectly, as if crafted solely for his frame. He stood tall, towering over the man he was conversing with, commanding the space around him effortlessly. You couldn’t help but stare, frozen like a deer in headlights, unable to tear your eyes away. He hadn’t noticed you yet—but maybe in a few moments, when he turned his head, he would.

The piano music halts softly and everyone takes a seat in their respective areas, Bruce strides into the stage to the podium. “good evening ladies and gentlemen.”

“good evening”, replies the crowd.

“Thank you all for coming out tonight to celebrate our wonderful scholars.” The voice echoed across the banquet hall, drawing everyone’s attention to the podium. Bruce Wayne stood confidently at the center of the stage, his presence commanding as he glanced over the crowd. He paused for a moment, offering a small, charismatic smile before continuing, “These young men and women have inspired us all at Wayne Enterprises, and it’s very clear that it’s time for us to give back.”

As he spoke, his hand rested casually on the podium, his gaze sweeping the room. He shifted his weight slightly, the tailored fabric of his suit catching the light. You could see the ease with which he held the audience’s attention, his deep voice resonating in the space. Every now and then, his eyes lingered on different parts of the crowd, making fleeting, deliberate eye contact with the attendees. There was an energy in the room, a quiet intensity as everyone hung on his every word.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. His demeanor drew you in, commanding your attention without effort, holding you captive in a way you hadn’t expected. The words of his speech barely registered as you found yourself caught in the pull of his deep blue eyes. And then you heard your name. Your trance shattered, replaced by a rush of adrenaline. You swiftly rose from your chair, heart pounding as you made your way to the stage. Anxiety, excitement, and humility washed over you all at once, your legs feeling unsteady beneath you as you faced the sea of Gotham’s elite. The crowd seemed impossibly refined, every face turned toward you as you approached Bruce Wayne.

“Ms. L/N, you have been awarded the B.W.E. Scholarship, in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars,” Bruce Wayne announces, his voice carrying effortlessly through the room. As he hands you the plaque, your jaw drops in disbelief. Bruce’s lips tug into a small, knowing smile as he offers his hand for a handshake.A cameraman steps forward, gesturing for both you and Bruce to face the camera. Still in shock, you comply, managing to plant a wide, gracious smile on your face. Bruce’s arm wraps gently around your waist, steadying you as the camera flashes.“Congratulations, Ms. L/N,” he says warmly, clapping his hands as he takes a step back. The crowd erupts in applause and cheers, the sound almost overwhelming as you make your way down the stairs, still clutching the plaque, your heart racing. You return to your table, the applause ringing in your ears, barely able to process what just happened.

The night carries on, and you find yourself alone in the quad sitting in a garden chair admiring your new plaque. a voice rings behind you,

“Hello, Y/N.”

You jump, clutching your chest at the sudden sound of his voice. “Holy shit—” you stammer, scrambling to recover. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wayne. Sorry, excuse me, you just startled me.”

He chuckles softly at your flustered reaction. “It’s alright, I know teachers have potty mouths.”

You can’t help but smile, relieved by his lightheartedness. He takes a seat beside you, and you’re struck by how effortlessly handsome he is. His hair is neatly combed back, and the subtle scent of Versace cologne mixed with fresh laundry detergent lingers in the air.

“I wanted to personally congratulate you,” he says, turning his full attention to you. “I have to admit, I’ve had my eye on you for a while. When I read your philosophy paper, I knew you deserved this more than anyone else.”

you blush, “oh, you read that? it was just something so i could pass the class.”

“i agreed with it, it was amazing. i agree with pushing boundaries in education, and hell Gotham needs someone like you”, he remarks.

“you’ve got a point.”

“good so we agree”, his smile illuminates his face, “wanna ditch this?”, he asks nodding his head to the parking lot. you laugh and nod. he stands taking your hand in his. you two make your way to the parking lot, “did you drive?”, he asks.

“no, i took an uber didn’t know how drunk i’d get tonight.”

“Perfect,” he says with a small smile, walking over to his sleek sports car. He opens the passenger door for you, extending his hand to help you in. Once you’re settled comfortably in the plush seat, he gently shuts the door before jogging around to the driver’s side. The soft purr of the engine starts as he slides in beside you, effortlessly in control of the wheel.

The sleek car pulls up in front of a small, charming ice cream shop nestled between towering Gotham buildings. You glance at Bruce, surprised by the choice, but his playful smile puts you at ease.

“You like ice cream, right?” he asks, already stepping out of the car and opening your door for you.

The shop is warm and cozy, with retro decor and the sweet smell of waffle cones in the air. You can hear the gentle hum of the freezer and the chatter of a few late-night customers. The glass display is filled with colorful scoops of every flavor you could imagine. Behind the counter, an older woman greets Bruce like an old friend.

“Bruce! It’s been a while! The usual?” she asks with a wink.

“And something for the lady,” Bruce adds, turning to you.

You scan the choices, feeling a bit out of place, but the warmth of the shop and Bruce’s casual demeanor make you smile. “Mint chocolate chip,” you say after a moment, trying to mask the butterflies in your stomach.

As you both sit down in a booth by the window, the soft glow of the streetlights outside adds to the comfortable ambiance. Bruce takes a spoonful of his ice cream and leans back, his relaxed posture a contrast to the serious man you’d seen earlier.

“I figured you could use something a little more… normal after tonight,” he says with a small grin, watching you as you take your first bite. The cool sweetness melts in your mouth, and for the first time that evening, you feel grounded, sharing a simple moment with Gotham’s most eligible billionaire. “and because i know you’re thinking about it, you don’t have to pay me back.”

“Mr. Way-“

“Bruce”, he smiles.

“Bruce, are you a mind reader”, he smirks before taking another mouthful of his ice cream.

you two chat for a while, you learn new things about him, and you explain your choice in pursuing your education degree. he praises you for your courage and kindness.

he arrives to your apartment, he even walks you to your door, “i had a great night Mr.- Bruce”, you speak before unlocking your door with your keys.

“i did too, here’s my number, i hope we can do this again sometime”, he smiles handing you a sticky note. you smile taking it out of his hand before waving him goodnight

“oh crap your jacket!”, you attempt to run after him.

Oh my gosh, y’all just LOVE angst dont y’all. I was working on something like this request before i got it, and i’m glad i finished this! Maybe i’ll make a part two to this! i have a good amount of requests and i’m getting them as quickly as i can thank you for understanding!

The Rules of the Game

Remy LeBeau x gn!reader

summary: Remy tells you something after 1 year of marriage!

warnings: ANGSTY ASF, cursing, a lot of alcohol is mentioned, i think that’s it. Picture from Pinterest

Happy reading 🫶

——————————————————————

It’s a rainy night; the soft sound of rain knocks on the windows, creating a gentle rhythm that fills the quiet house. The book in your hands is illuminated by the warm glow of the fire Remy lit before heading downstairs to play poker with his friends. The crackle of the fire mixes with the faint laughter rising from the basement, but the peaceful ambiance begins to fade as you hear the unmistakable sound of Remy stumbling upstairs, clearly drunk.

The kitchen cupboards bang open and shut, and you can hear him muttering curses in French under his breath.

“You okay, darlin’?” you call out from the couch, pushing your glasses up your nose. You turn away from your book, your gaze lingering on the kitchen. “Need some help?”

“I’m good, cherie, just tryna fin' my liquor,” he slurs in response, his words thick with alcohol.

Sighing, you reluctantly get up from your cozy spot and stroll into the kitchen. Without a word, you pull a brand-new bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the pantry and hand it to him.

“Oh, mon cherie, thank ya! You’re too kind to me!” he says, kissing your forehead clumsily before snatching the bottle from your hand and disappearing back downstairs. You roll your eyes, shaking your head at his drunken gratitude, and return to the couch, diving back into your book.

As the night wears on, the fire begins to dim, and the laughter from below grows louder, echoing through the house. You glance at the clock—almost 1 a.m. Deciding it’s time to call it a night, you snuff out the fire and finish the last sip of your wine. Heading upstairs to the bedroom, you strip out of your clothes, tossing them into the hamper, and slip on a silk purple nightdress. The plush sheets of your California King bed welcome you, and you soon drift off.

Hours later, the mattress dips beside you, pulling you from your sleep. You glance at the clock: 3:00 a.m. With a sigh, you feel Remy’s arm wrap around you, pulling you close.

“Rem—”

“Shhh, go back to sleep. I ain’t mean to wake you up, amour,” he whispers, kissing the back of your neck as he brushes your hair out of the way.

“You’re makin’ it kinda hard, sugar,” you reply, letting your Southern accent lace the words with frustration.

“Sorry, jus’ miss you… you didn’t come down to see me.”

“My bad. My book was really good,” you chuckle lightly, though deep down, your thoughts are elsewhere. You can’t shake the discomfort of knowing Rogue, the woman who broke Remy’s heart, is downstairs playing cards. But you decide to save that for when he’s sober. “Good night, Rem.”

You try to let go of the irritation, but it lingers as your meemaw’s words echo in your mind: *Never let the sun go down on your anger, darling.*

The sun is already creeping through the curtains when the sound of vomiting startles you awake. “Damn it,” you mutter, pulling yourself out of bed. In the bathroom, you find Remy pathetically bent over the toilet, retching out the remnants of the previous night.

“Baby? You okay?” you ask gently. He gives you a weak thumbs-up, still hunched over the toilet. You hurry to the kitchen, grab an ice pack, and place it on the back of his neck, holding his auburn hair out of the way. “That’s it, get it all out,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles.

After several minutes, you help him into a cool shower, washing his hair and handing him an aspirin along with an anti-nausea pill. Once he’s cleaned up, he brushes his teeth and joins you in the living room, squinting dramatically at the light as if it were torture.

As the two of you stand across from each other in the kitchen, you can feel the tension brewing. He knows something’s on your mind, but he waits, sensing the storm coming.

“Why was she here?” you finally ask, your voice tight with emotion.

“Who?” he responds, though there’s a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“Rogue. Why… was… she… here?” you ask again, hugging your arms to your chest. A flicker of sadness crosses your face, but it quickly hardens into something more.

He sighs heavily, running a hand over his face, clearly frustrated. The two of you had been married for about a year now, ever since Rogue left him at the altar. You had been his solace, the one who helped him pick up the pieces of his broken heart. But sometimes, it still felt like you were competing with a ghost.

“Y/N, please, not today,” he says softly.

“Not today?” you huff, your sadness turning into anger. “What the hell do you mean, ‘not today’?” Your voice takes on the sharp edge of your Georgia accent. “Remy, is there something you need to tell me? Did you sleep with her?”

He looks at you incredulously, as if the accusation is absurd. “Y/N, I’m not sleepin’ with her. Oh mon Dieu!” His frustration is palpable as he walks away, grabbing his shoes and the jacket hanging by the door.

“Remy, where are you going?” you shout after him, your anger boiling over.

“Out,” he says flatly, slamming the door behind him.

“Shit,” you mutter, slapping the door with your palm before storming off to the bedroom. You throw yourself onto the bed, eyes welling with tears. Clutching his pillow, you sob into it, your heart aching. *What is he not telling me?* The tears come in waves—anger, jealousy, sadness, all tumbling out uncontrollably. His scent lingers on the pillow, and for a fleeting moment, you consider tearing it to shreds. But you can’t. Despite everything, your heart still swells with love for him.

Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, and you fall into a fitful sleep, alone in the bed you share with him.

Hours later, the sound of the door creaking open pulls you from sleep. You hear it close softly behind him, the house trembling slightly. Glancing at the clock, you see it’s noon.

You wipe the tear stains from your cheeks and gather the strength to get out of bed. After rinsing your face, you make your way downstairs to find Remy sitting on the couch, whiskey in hand, soft jazz playing from the TV. His eyes are fixed on the dark screen.

“Rem, I’m s—”

He cuts you off, patting the spot beside him. “Sit,” he says quietly. His gaze burns into you as you take your place on the couch, pulling the blanket over yourself for warmth. The room feels cold—colder than usual.

“Mon amour, we gotta talk, like adults, yeah?” You nod, unable to speak, afraid the dam will break again if you do. He hands you a glass of wine that’s already sitting on the table, waiting for you.

“I can’t love you the way I loved Anna-Marie,” he says, his tone serious. The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your body goes rigid, heat rising in your chest as you struggle to understand.

“W-what?” you manage to squeak, the words barely escaping your lips.

“We had somethin’ for years,” he continues.

Your eyes flick to the wedding band on his finger, then to yours, and back again. “Then why did you marry me?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“Because I love you,” he says, placing his hand on yours, trying to reassure you.

“This doesn’t make sense, Remy.” A tear slips down your cheek. “I’m so confused.”

“I can’t help my feelings, cherie. Feelings are feelings. I can’t change that.”

“Yes, you can,” you sob. “Remy, you’re the only man I’ve ever loved. I could never even *think* of having feelings for anyone from my past and then marrying you out of convenience.”

“Cherie, I didn’t marry you out of convenience,” he pleads.

“Then why did you marry me?” you ask, your voice cracking. The tears flow freely now, and your heart feels as if it’s being ripped apart.

Remy sees the pain in your swollen, red eyes. He knows he’s broken something precious.

“Y/N, I—”

“No, don’t you dare,” you interrupt, pointing a finger at him. You stand up abruptly, storming to the bathroom and slamming the door behind you. Sliding down against the door, you cry into your knees, your body trembling with the weight of it all.

WC: 3,400

Gambit (Remy LeBeau) x afab!mixed!reader

Summary: on a girls trip turned spending time with Remy after a bad breakup, you find yourself making a decision that will change the rest of your vacation and maybe even your life

Warnings: 18+, mentions of cheating, bullying, childhood trauma doesn’t go into detail, a little bit of smut, alcohol, not my gif, bad French, a girl from Georgia trying to write a deep southern & Cajun accent

Happy reading!

——————————————————————

It’s so humid out, you got the wonderful idea to straighten your hair for your girl’s trip to New Orleans, huge mistake. As soon as you stepped off the plane the humidity hit you like a wrecking ball, you’re from Georgia so you know that humidity could be bad, but you never knew it could be this bad. Your makeup is sliding off your face, your once silk pressed hair is attempting to retreat back to its normal curl pattern.

You and your girls pile into an extremely over priced Uber that arrives to an equally over priced ARBNB near the French Quarter. “How much did you spend on this Beebee?”, you ask tipping your sunglasses down. You put your hair in a bun a little bit ago ‘out of sight, out of mind’.

“I dunno, it’s was like $80 a night!”, she remarks, “but that’s okay, the man covered it all!”, you all giggle and grab our luggage from the car.

When y’all walk in there’s a wonderful smell of food. You drop your luggage and make your way to the kitchen. When you walk in you see a man, you jump back, you’re a tad frightened not expecting someone cooking in the kitchen. You knock over the broom behind you, the man turns away from the stew on the stove top and turns to you.

“Hello?”, the man has an extremely thick Cajun accent, and not to mention his crop top.

“Uh hi? What are you doing in our house?”, I tilt my head to the side

“Your house? Last time I checked my name was on the deed, ma chérie”, okay not Cajun , maybe French you think to yourself.

“Hey gi-“, one of your friends walked in to the kitchen a smile beaming on her face when she sees the handsome man standing in the kitchen. “Hey, I’m Briana, and I see that you’ve met y/n”, she sticks out her hand to him. He waltz over kissing her hand.

“Bonjour Belle”, you roll your eyes at his charm targeted to your taken friend.

“She’s married”, you point to her flashy diamond ring on her finger.

“Okay, and I’m Remy!, he introduces himself with a dramatic bow.

“Wow”, you huff, “what are you cooking?”, you walk over to the stove.

“I’m making GUMBO!”, he answers, flailing his arms outwards, his crop top lifting up slightly exposing the rest of his ripped torso, “would you masdames like some, there’s plenty t’go around. Judgin by the luggage in the living room y’all mus be starvin.”

“That would be perfect Remmy”, Beebee beams walking over to a cupboard pulling out four bowls. “Riley, Cora, there’s food!”, she yells. Two more girls shuffle into the kitchen stunned by the man serving up Gumbo and rice.

After dinner you’re practically falling asleep at the table while Remy chats up your friends, all of them are blushing and giggling like elementary school girls talking to the life guards in their Justice mermaid swimsuits. “Guys I’m gonna go ahead and unpack, and get ready to go out. Take your time though. Thank you for dinner Remy”, you stand up placing your bowl and spoon into the sink. You hear another chair scrape the floor.

“Lemme help you mon amour”, he smiles at you. You nod and he follows behind you picking up your luggage. He takes it up stairs to the biggest room, “this my room”, he remarks.

“Cool, when are you leaving the house, this is really unprofessional?”

“I’m leavin t’night, I just wan to make sure there s’food b’fore I left. Mamma always told me to feed the guests.”

“How cute, so all of this is yours?”, you ask and put your purse on the bed, “I hope you washed the sheets, you look like a player.”

“I worked hard, and they’re clean Remy got more respect for women than that, doll.” He gives you a tour of the room and you follow him, it is huge and the bathroom is insane.

“Wow.”, you are stunned, “do you think my friends would be mad if I stay in tonight, your food is on the verge of putting me into a comma”, you plop yourself onto the bed laying back and sighing.

“No, I don’t think they will”, he grabs some extra pillows for the other rooms, “lemme walk these to the other rooms and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay”, you sigh and roll over to your side, your eyes drift close and like that you’re out.

Remy walks back in and lets out an obnoxious sigh, but realizes you’re asleep, and he quietly tip toes back out after writing a note and slipping it onto the night stand before leaving to a hotel.

You wake up to your phone buzzing beside you nonstop:

Cold & Suffering😀🙄:

B- “where is y/n?”

Coracola- “she went up stairs w/ Remy and never came back down😏”

B- “omg😭”

*Rizzles laughed at a message*

Coracola-“I did see Remy leave so maybe he laid it and dipped 🤷‍♀️”

B-“Doubt that, she’s still hung up on Miles!”

Rizzles- “okay, but having rebound sex with the man who cooked dinner for you is very ✨demure✨”

You roll your eyes at the messages before replying:

Me-“we didn’t have sex, I fell asleep”

B- “oh she lives!”

Coracola-“SLAYY!”

*Rizzles thumbs down a message*

Me-🙄

You turn your phone off throwing it across the bed. You roll over and look up at the ceiling before standing up, the note catches your eye.

‘You looked extremely peaceful and I didn’t want to wake you. You’re very beautiful btw! I am leaving now and I wanted to say enjoy your stay. Here’s my number if you need anything, or want anything…if you know what I mean. (765)432-1010.’

You make your way back down stairs to see your friends all dressed up on the couch waiting to go out for the night. They all turn to look at you, “why aren’t you ready?”, Beebee questions.

“I’m not going out, I’ll go out with yall tomorrow, I’m not feehling to good the flight drained me”, you respond.

“Ugh”, they moan in unison.

“Okay we’ll call us if you need anything please?”, Cora states as they pile out the door to the Uber.

You walk back up to the room, and undress, you unpack your toiletries and begin wiping off your makeup from the day. You get the bright idea to text Remy, while in the process of unwinding. You talked for a while about how happy you were to leave your lame ass city in Georgia and visit a historic city. He threw in some French and unfortunately, you swooned. Your phone starts to ring, it is a FaceTime from “LeBeau (NOLA)”, you answer reluctantly. You see a big smile beaming across his face.

“Bonjour, belle”, his French accent shining through, “oh by the way I have a liquor cabinet help yourself”, he adds.

“Oh, I don’t drink much”, you respond.

“Fair nough ”, he nods.

You reposition yourself to lay on your stomach propping your head up with one of the pillows.

“Are you enjoying?”, he asks smiling.

“Yes I am, I decided to stay in, not feeling good”, your face softens to sorrow.

“What’s wrong ma chérie?”, his voice fills with concern.

“Nothing.”

“No tell Remy, something is bothering you. You’re to pretty to be bothered by something”, He raises his concern again.

“No, it’s pretty irritating and it’ll go away, that’s why I’m here to get away for this weekend.”

“So why are you staying in if it’s gon go away?”, he asks once again. You roll your eyes at his persistence, “Remy gives very good advice, but shit you don’t gotta tell me. I’ll just find out f’myself soon.”

“Fine”, you sigh, and inhale a deep breath before sitting up and propping the phone up on the lamp on the night stand. “It’s my ex”, you pause, twiddling your thumbs, “he keeps sending me sex videos of the girl he cheated on me with and saying really fucked up things about me.”

Remy has a stunned look on his face, jaw practically touching the floor. “What the fuck?”, his Cajun accent more pronounced. His bright red eyes fill with anger. “Thas fucked up, that jus don’t make no sense, why?”

“Like I would know, I don’t even know why he cheated on me in the first place. I did nothing to him.”

“No s‘not your fault cher, some people are jus filled wit evil”, he responds. “How long were yall together?”, he tilts his head to the side like a puppy waiting for a treat.

“One year”, you follow, “we broke up two weeks ago.”

“Woah, s’insane he would do a beautiful masdame like that”, he follows this, “d’ya know tha girl?”

“Yeah”, your eyes sink lower, “Riley.”

“Ya amie?”, he asks

“Who?”

“Your friend”, he translates the French

“Yes”, you remark, “that’s why I don’t want to go out.”

“You got that right”, he adds, “get him back.”

Your eyes widened stunned by his ‘good advice’, “what?”, eyes widen.

“Ya heard me, get em back”, he beams, eyes lighting up again.

“Why would I do that?”

“You a very beautiful woman, I assume he ain’t, get em back wit a good lookin man.”

“Remy”, you sigh, “I don’t want to do that, I don’t just have sex to get revenge.”

“Fair”, his tone direct.

“Yep, so that’s why I’m not going out tonight”, you roll your eyes grabbing your phone and laying back down on the bed. “Where are you?”

“Hotel!”, he flips his camera around to show off the sorry room that he’s in.

“Yikes”, you chuckle out your nose. “Come back here, we can party”, you smile. You surprisingly enjoy his presence, he’s a little cocky, but he makes you smile.

“Ha, d’ya play poker?”, he asks.

“I can play 21”, you smile.

“Close nough, imma be there soon.” He hangs up the phone, and you change into some more presentable clothes, but yet still comfortable. You take it upon yourself to borrow one of his purple sweatshirts because you weren’t expecting his house to be freezes cold. You make your way down the stairs and into the kitchen searching for something to munch on, you smile when you see a snack cabinet specifically for guests and renters. You nestle yourself into the plush vintage couch that matches the aesthetic of the French quarter.

You flip through a couple channels on the tv before landing on the Animal Planet because reruns of your favorite childhood tv show ‘Dirty Jobs’ was currently on. You’re hair fully curled back up, because you did rinse out the rest of the silk press earlier, revealing bouncy, but some what frizzy 3c curls. You let out a long sigh when the door knob starts jiggling you jump up making a run to the door grabbing a random baseball bat, when the door opens you swing the bat hitting Remy in the stomach.

“Ooo”, he groans dropping to the floor holding his stomach. You drop the bat cupping your mouth to stifle a giggle. You quickly rush down to his aid still trying not to laugh and planting a look of concern onto your face.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!”, you exclaim.

“S’all good”, he grumbles out, “jus-ow-needa-minute”, he exhales, “good arm you got there.”

“Yeah, I played softball in highschool”, you respond. You help him off the floor closing the door muffling the outside noise and bring him to the couch. “Let me grab some ice!”, you spark.

“That’ll be great cher”, he responds shifting slightly. You return with a bag of ice placing it on his abdomen, he looks up at you and smiles. “Thanks.”

“I’m so sorry, it’s definitely gonna leave bruises, you lift up his shirt to reveal a spot begging to form.

“Well at least I’ll know a beautiful woman gave em to me”, he chuckles. You roll your eyes, still enamored by his body, his voice, his charm. You didn’t understand why it’s only been one day, but you would drop everything to have him around all the time.

“You make me blush”, you say with a slight hint of sarcasm lining your voice, “I don’t think they’ll be back anytime tonight, I bet you around midnight Cora will call and say they found another party”, you sigh.

“you’s ain the party type?”

“Not really.”

“I ain’t either, I like stayin home and watchn a good movie, playin cards”, he responds. He looks down at your hands lightly resting on his torso, “you’re nail s’pretty, I like purple”, he compliments the dark purple color you just did for your trip to NOLA. “You look good in my sweatshirt too”, he adds lightly grabbing the sleeve.

You blush, “thanks”, you remove your hands from his abs swiftly pulling the sleeves of the sweater over your hands.

“Don’t hide mon amor”, he pulls your hand and holds it tightly, rubbing his thumb on your knuckles.

“No it just hit me that I was touching you, I’m sorry”, you chuckle.

“Don’t be Remy don’t mind!”, he exclaims placing your hand back on his belly.

You’re 3 rounds deep in 21, he keeps winning and you keep busting, never trusting your gut. The air is filled with laughter as you both tell funny stories about your childhoods and about current day. “So are you from here?” You ask shuffling the deck to prepare for another round.

“Born n’ raised”, he remarks with a smirk, “are you from Georgia?”

“I am, I was too born and raised, but I didn’t live in Macon my whole life, I moved there when I was a girl, I’m actually from Moody”, you answer. “It’s a smaller subset town of Valdosta!”, you chirp.

“Oh wow”, he responds.

“Yeah, crazy right”, you smirk dealing the cards. You behind the fourth round and as quickly as it started it ended, finally you won a round, “YES!”, you exclaim fist pumping the air!

“You took a gambit cher and it put you in a good spot”, he responds to your win, “I’m bored of this game, do you wan watch a show?”, he asks cleaning up the card and placing them back in their spot inside the coffee table.

“You’re not bored you’re just upset that you lost”, you laugh.

“Damn you’s caught me”, he sarcastically sulks.

“But yes we can watch a show, I’m not picky we can watch anything!”

“Okay, do you like Disney?”, he asks taking a spot quite close to you in the couch. His arm is stretched out behind you, and you subconsciously lean into him without even realizing. You nod at his question and he opens Disney+, “is that your natural hair?”, you nod, “it’s beautiful cher!”

“Thank you”, you blush at this compliment, it’s very rare for a white man to compliment your hair without touching it or comparing it to something else. He puts on a movie.

“This is MY favorite move”, he remarks clicking on ‘Princess and the Frog’ you chuckle, and how adorable this man actually is. The movie starts playing, he gets up to dim the lights and sits back down next to you, he pulls you in a little closer.

About 30 minutes into the movie you receive a text from Cora:

Coracola: “hey found another party, we ain comin home tn don’t wait up!”

Coracola: “have sex with Remy!”

Coracola: “love you N/n!”

Me: “okay be safe, please call me if you need me! I’m not going to have sex with him, love you guys too!”

You close your phone and place it on the coffee table. You hear a light snore beside you and turn to see Remy asleep head rested on the pillow. You smile grabbing the remote and turning off the movie, “not done watching”, he shuffles awake.

“I’m sorry, I am”, you respond.

“Oh”, you could probably hear his heart sadden.

“Yous sleepy?”, he asks, “go on to bed”, he smiles at you. You stand up hands gently cupping his face rubbing your thumb against his stubble. You turn to walk up the stairs, you know he’s looking so you sway your hips with each step you take.

You make it upstairs and you softly close the bedroom door behind you, stripping off all of your clothes except for your underwear and crawl into bed letting the warm blankets embrace you tired body. With that you’re relaxed, your eyes closing as you drift off to sleep.

The smell of breakfast wakes you up from your deep sleep; the smell of fresh coffee, sausage and eggs fill the air. You roll out of bed putting your discarded clothes back on before stumbling down stairs wiping sleep from your eyes. “Bonjour, belle dame”, he remarks when you walk into the kitchen he’s standing over the stove cooking breakfast for you and him and it looks big enough it could also be for your friends when they decide to stumble back in. “I have some grits jus bout done, and French roast coffe brewin, and sausage fryn up”, he points a spatula to different parts of the gigantic kitchen. “You like grits”, your pouring some coffee and putting in your absurd amount of cream and sugar, “woah there doll, you don’t wan no coffee wit ya sugar?”, he mocks.

“I like my coffee sweet.”

“You don’t need it to be sweet you already sweet enough, sugar”, he reverts his gaze back to the sausage in the skillet. You blush taking a sip of your sweet ass coffee.

“Why do you cook so much?” You take a seat at the island setting your blue mug down gently. The windows were propped open the humidity fills the room.

“My momma taught me s’really jus somethn I always did wit momma.”

“Oh I see.”

“Do you cook?”

“Here and there sometimes I just get to busy with work.”

“What ya do f’work?”

“Oh I’m a teacher”, he turns away from the stove eyes widening.

“Yous a teacher?, still filled with shock.

“Yes sir, I teach first grade, sometimes it’s a little rough, but they’re little angels just wanting to grow”, you smile taking another sip of the coffee.

“We-you know, you’re a special woman. Your heart truly is as beautiful as you are”, his red eyes look at you deeply. “Oh well! Everything seems to be done let me make you a bowl, lovely.”

After breakfast Remy encourage you to get ready so he can take you exploring through the city now that it’s daylight and a bit safer. You do your curly girl routine and put on a little waterproof mascara, changing into one of the summer dresses you brought for your trip. You still have yet to hear anything from your friends so you allow Remy to show you around instead.

You walk around the FQ for a bit, snack on some delicious food, and even try some of Remy’s favorite drink, Whiskey Neat, to you it was not neat and you may have even gagged a little. You found yourselves hand in hand at one point while walking around, he says it’s for your protection as he’s just trying to be a gentleman, but you know better than that. “I don’t know if I told ya that you look very beautiful today, Une beauté dans le bayou.”, he compliments.

“Thank you Remy”, you find you and Remy sitting in a cafe that he said he went to all the time as an ‘enfant’.

“Of course cherie”, he responds.

“So are you Cajun or French?”, you finally expose your curiosity to him and he just chuckles.

“Both amor”, he follows, “mostly just a ragin Cajun”, he smiles taking a sip of his beverage.

“That’s pretty cool, so your related to the Canadian French people?”

“Somin like that yeah.”

“That’s interesting”, you smile eager to learn more about this mystery man who seems to care about you more than your friends who you still not have heard from except Beebee who’s keeping you updated here and there.

“I reckon”, he states plainly, “Tell Remy bout you.”

“I’m not as interesting as you are”, you chuckle re adjusting yourself in the seat.

“Try me, gon ahead, doll”, he just smiles.

“Well, I’m mixed, my dad is black mom is white”, memories flood back from your childhood, all the adoption rumors that floated around your school, all the stories your mom told you about how people called you a devil child, and how you were unnatural, all the racism you faced from both sides of the family.

“Hey that’s pretty cool”, he smiles, “why you lookin sad, belle”

“I just had it a bit rough growing up up that’s all”, you drink your water practically chugging in. This has been your go to tactic when you’re anxious, just chug water and hope your nerves calm down.

“Oh”, he pauses and reaches accross the table to grab your hand, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! When I got to college the bullying stopped!”, you exclaim

“Well thas good cher.”

After a couple minutes your food arrives and both of y’all go to town, you ordered the best burger you’ve had in a while, and Remy got a some crawfish and he went to town on their little heads, you just giggle, he’s absolutely adorable. He pays for both of you not without heavy protest, but he just ignores you saying, ‘this jus what men s’posed to do’.

You two arrive back at his house, and you finally see your friends running around the house like mad women trying to figure out who’s shoes are who’s, and who’s going out clothes belong to who. “Bonjour, mesdames!”, Remy pipes closing the door behind y’all.

The girls stop running around facing the door, “Hey!”, they exclaim together before going back to what they were doing. You and Remy just laugh and make your way back upstairs. Closing the door behind him you both sit down on the bed, just laughing at the women down stairs.

“My friends think we should have sex.”

“What?”, he looks at you Turing sharply. You have to admit he did look completely fuckable in this moment, but you just couldn’t fuck him, you don’t like the idea of having a rebound partner.

“Because of Miles”, you add.

“I mean, Remy wouldn’t mind bein a rebound, but I do get a lil clingy after sex, I will bother you”, he chuckles.

“Yeah, me too, that’s why I don’t want to do rebound sex.”

“Cher, remember how I told him yous should get him back?”

“Yeah”

“Do it, you’re only here for a couple more days, so jus gon ahead and get tha ass back”, he adds, “gon and find a man and get him ba-“

Before you could finish his sentence you kiss him, you’ve wanted to do that since he came back to spend time with you last night. He responds to the kiss without hesitation. Your lips match movements. He leans you back on his bed, crawling on top of you deepening the kiss. His free hand travels up to your face holding you tightly with the other. You’ve never experienced a kiss this deep and this passionate ever. He’s filled with passion, it has to be his souther and French roots tied into one. Man is it beautiful, it’s great, until he stops, “doll? yous okay wit this, I’m okay if you okay?”, you nod your head pulling him back down into the kiss. Before anything could happen you hear a knock on the door, you pushed him off you and he hits the floor with a *thud* and an *ow*. You jump of the bed straightening out your clothes before opening it wide enough just for you to only be seen.

“Hey bad time?”, Beebee asks.

“No, yeah, no- you’re good, what’s up?”

“We are leaving again, we found another spot do you wanna come?”

You look behind you at the man still sitting on the floor rubbing his head.

“I’m staying here again, I really don’t want to be around Rylie.”

“Fair, okay well I will see you tomorrow, tell Remy I said hey”, she giggled and makes her way down stairs. You close the door as she leaves letting out a long winded exhale before walking over to Remy and helping him stand up.

“Do you have super strength?”, you look at him confused, “this the second time you’d hurt good ol’ Remy. Startn to wonder if ya dislike me”, you just giggle and rub the back of his head. “What kinda music ya like cher?”, he asks while getting up from the bed and walking over to the record player on the dresser.

“I don’t know Rem, I’m not picky. We can listen to whatever you pick”, he smiles and picks out a Louis Armstrong record. He starts swaying, he grabs your hand and politely forces you to start swaying with him.

“Beautiful belle”, he whispers, his chin rests at the top of your head, “stay with me. We can dance like this forever.”

You giggle softly, “I wish Remy.”

“It’s summer break stay wit me for the rest of summer”, he adds lowly. You let out a content sigh, pondering the idea for a second. He spins you around towards the bed and you take a seat, he walks over to you with a sensual look on his face. You scoot back spreading your legs so he has room to lay you back, pressing his lips against yours with so much passion you could practically melt into liquid form. He kissed down your jaw and neck, he finds a spot under your ear and sucks on it, that will definitely be a hickey; the sensation leaves you breathless and your eyes begin to roll back pushing your hips close to his. He forces your thighs apart more using his thigh, he’s pretty much straddling one of your thighs. You rub against his toned thigh out of instinct searching for release of the tension building on your bud.

“Ma chérie, ralentis”, he whispers in your ear. You whine, the accent is way more thick than it has been. You don’t know what he’s saying, but you can only assume it’s about your movements. “Oh don’t whine belle, that makes me go s’crazy”, he smirks. “Can Remy take off your dress cher?”, you nod. He pulls off the yellow dress revealing you in nothing, but a lacy purple thong. Your tits are perky, and your nipples have turned into mounds at the feeling of the cold air. He smiles like a goofy kid, “Remy likes that purple, s’bad gotta go”, you smile with him, looking up at his red eyes.

“Remy?”, he looks at you.

“Yes ma cher?”

“Be nice.”

“I’m always nice, mon amour”, with that he slides your thong and tosses it somewhere in the room. He looks at you silently asking permission to go down on you and you nod confirming that everything is okay. He dips his down into your throbbing cunt. He lives light kisses on the lips and around where you want him.

“Rem, please”, you beg.

“Not yet, sugar”, he keeps up the teasing until his fingers get involved and they lightly pass through your folds softly rubbing your clit. You buck letting out a soft moan, “I can’t hear you cher, a lil louder so Remy can hear you, yeah?” You nod your head.

He has you moaning a writhing underneath him for about 30 minutes, he’s taken his time making you feel good, talking you through everything. He’s laying next to you playing in your hair and rubbing your back, as both your heart rates attempt to drop back down to normal. “Cher you did so good for me”, he smiles, pushing some curls behind your ear. “I’m sorry if I was rough”, he says staring deeply in your eyes.

“You’re okay Remy, it felt good”, you respond cupping his face, planting a kiss on your forehead. “I’m gonna shower and it’s starting to get late, I’m sleepy.”

“Okay mon amor, any thoughts t’my question yet?”, he asks looking up to you as you wrap yourself in a towel.

“I have, I’ll stay”, you smile and waltz towards the bathroom.

Remy x afab!reader

A/N: this is just pure unadulterated shameless smut! I have the hots for him, and I would willingly play strip poker with him. Anyways happy reading! If there is a high demand for gambit lmk, I am already working on a fluffy/ smutty piece for this beautiful man! Make sure you reblog if this tickled your fancy!

Warnings: 18+, female reader intended, sex a lot of sex, kinks, bad French. Not my gif 💜!

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A- aftercare

Remy, bless his heart isn’t great with aftercare. He tries so hard, but it’s not something he ever had to do before he got into a serious relationship with you. He understands that he can be a little rough, but in his last hookups/ relationships they would just get up and leave. He really never had anything serious until you. Now he will clean you off, get you some water or Doctor Pepper, or a snack if you ask for it specifically. He’ll help you get up and help you bathe in the shower or bath. He’ll dress you in his clothes because usually you’re hurting too much to put your thong and wire bra back on.

B- Body part

On him he LOVES his arms, they’re strong, muscular, and they look really good when she’s flexing his muscles uncontrollable while absolutely obliterating your pussy. On you, he’s a thigh guy, he loves your thighs, he loves how they wrap around his waist in missionary, and how they practically melt when he grabs them with some force.

C- cum

He likes making you cum over, and over, but he doesn’t really do cum play. You mentioned that it makes you a bit itchy when it’s in your skin after he pulls out, so he usually collects it in his hand or cums in your mouth.

D- Dominance

He’s a dominant king, he takes over, and whenever you try to he swiftly puts you in your place.

E-Experience

He’s experienced he’s had plenty of hookups and Rouge has taught him some things, but it turns out those things she taught him were only exclusive to her and not his other sexual partners.

F- favorite position

He doesn’t discriminate, but he really loves doggy just because of the noises you make when he hits your special spot! He just can’t get that deep in missionary or any other position.

G- Goofy

He is a very silly goofy boy, sometimes he will break out into laughter during sex or make jokes that make you laugh. Sometimes when it feels really good you LAUGH uncontrollably just because it feels good.

H- hair pulling

Pull his hair he will pull your right back maybe even harder. That’s if your hair isn’t done. He knows he can’t touch your hair when it’s styled!

I- intimacy

He is very intimate, not just with sex, but he’s always clinging on you. He’s so scared something bad might happen to you so he’s always holding onto you for dear life. When you two have sex he’s intimate. He’ll hold you and rub you gently taking his time with you.

J- jealousy

Jealousy is his middle name. He hates seeing other men make you smile, he hates when they talk to you. He knows it’s not your fault so he doesn’t take it out on you in the bedroom. He simply just reminds others that you’re his. He leaves hickies all over your neck and if you’re going to a place where you will be wearing one of your low cut dresses he’ll leave them on your collarbone and boobs.

K- kinks

Yes he indeed has kinks they include:

•humiliating you, choking, spanking, dom/sub, restraints, he likes taking videos of you ‘slobbing on his knob’, pulling the fuck out of your hair when you let him, he likes overstimulating you, and edging you. There’s a lot and the list keeps growing especially after watching porn with you.

L- location

He likes fucking you in the bedroom it’s just more intimate, and that’s where everything is anyways.

M- motivation

YOU, everything about YOU. The way you talk, the way you walk, what you are or arent wearing. When you hold onto him in public when other men stair at you. It’s all YOU. He’s putty in your small hands. He loves you in purple, you look so sexy to him

N- NO

He will absolutely NOT, do a threesome, anything to do with this powers during sex (it could really hurt you), CNC, anal (it hurts him), knife/ gun play. Have sex with you when you’ve been drinking (you’re a light weight so you get fucked up fast).

O- oral

This man LOVES to eat some pussy, he will go on and on and on until you’re sweating and begging him to stop, but he won’t. You just taste so good and your thighs around his neck and you’re ridding his face uncontrollably. He likes getting his dick sucked, but it’s not his favorite thing, you do a good job don’t get him wrong, he just prefers the feeling of pussy.

P- pace

Quick, but deep. Sometimes slow, but deep. It all depends on his mood, but it’s always gonna be deep, and hurt in the good way. The way that makes you scream and roll your eyes to the back of your head and drool when he’s fucking the common sense out of you.

Q- quickie

He HATES quickies, they DONT hit the same he will wait and wait until you can get some alone time with him.

R- risk

He’s loud that’s the only risky thing. Sometimes if you’re at the X-mansion you have to cover his mouth. He’ll send you dick pics when he knows you’re in public or sext you while everyone is together.

S- stamina

HE HAS STAMINA, he can go over and over sometimes he doesn’t even need a break unless he’s really tired.

T- toys

He loves using toys on you. You and him combined your collections, you brought the dildos and he supplies vibrators to use. When he’s out on a mission he begs for videos of you using one of the dildos while you moan his name.

U-unfair

He’s a tease, he sends the texts he does the edging. Remy just loves taking a Gambit at what he can get away with before you break.

V- volume

He’s so FUCKING LOUD, so fucking loud. Very vocal, “mon amor you feel s’good”, “mon Cherie look at me while I fuck your pretty little pussy”, you’re “s’wet for me”.

W- wildcard

You love when he speaks French in the bedroom.

X- X-Ray

He’s big, but not overly too big, he’s maybe an inch and a half above the American average(google is giving me mixed answers, but it’s 5.5 in). He’s around 6.5in and he’s not too girthy. He’s got a pink one and there’s a vein that spreads from his balls to almost the tip. (Un)fortunately he’s circumcise, it’s the south, what can I say.

Y- yearning

He yearns for your body warmth and will do absolutely anything to get close to you.

Z- Zzz

ChrisEvans!Johnny Storm x afab!POC!reader

WC- 2,555

Summary- Y/n expresses her frustrations with school and her living situation so Johnny gets an idea to make her feel better the only way he really knows how!

CW: 18+, oral fem receiving, Johnny being a child sometimes, college struggles, mentions of drugs and alcohol, Chris Evan gif, not my gif :)!

A/n: MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN! I have been obsessed with Chris Evan’s Johnny Storm since I was a wee little girl. He ate in this role 🤌, so I hope I ate w this lil fic. He’s actually the reason why I have a type, and a white man’s whore! Also sorry for all the stressed college girl tropes, I’m indeed a stressed college girl!

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“Y/N come HERE!” Jonny yells from the top of the water tower. “Come on, it’s gorgeous up here!”, he adds.

“Hell no! I am NOT going up there. You need to get down before you get in trouble”, I yell back.

“Trouble? Dude that’s literally my middle name”, he calls back. “Just come on, imagine having sex up here under these beautiful stars, and in the most secluded place you and I know!”

“Johnny I’m not having sex with you on a water tower!”

“Ugh!” I hear him grown. “Please!”

“No.”

“Pretty please!”

“No!”

“Come on! We don’t even have to have sex!”

“Go ahead and yell our business louder for the whole campus to hear, why don’t you!”

“I wouldn’t be yelling if you were up here sweetheart!”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes, and sigh.

“Yes!” He pumps the air with his fist as I climb my way up the water tower.

I make it up there out of breath, these are moments when I regret vaping in high-school. “Why did you climb?”

“That’s a stupid question.” I glare at him.

“You’re right, my bad princess.”

“It is beautiful up here, you really can see everything”, I smile and take a deep breath closing my eyes. This is the first time I’ve felt peace in so long since I started University. I’ve been everywhere all over the place, always busy, and I never had a chance to find my peace. I thought I would find peace when I met Johnny Storm, but man was I wrong. Being with him has moments where I’m taking care of a child with unmedicated ADHD, and a child that’s never been told no. When moments like this occur where he shows me his things; I feel peace, but with us being busy with our final years of college we haven’t had time to do stuff like this.

“It is isn’t it! I love it up here. I missed being here, and I finally get to share it with the woman I lo-“, he pauses. I eyes shoot open, my head darting to him. “Look”, he points straight forward, but there’s nothing there.

“Wh-“, he pulls me into a kiss.

“Mm, this”, he pulls away from the kiss. I’m blushing, and he’s grinning like the most stupid idiot I have ever met. “Now can we have sex on top of a water tower?”, I roll my eyes and slap his chest lightly, but he just looks at me with those puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please!”

“Johnny, I physically have not been in the mood to have sex in a month, what makes you think I’m going to want to do it even more on a water tower”, I feel the irritation filling my bones.

“Why?”, he asks, he sits down legs hanging over the edge.

He pulls me down to sit and I follow sighing, “I’m exhausted.” I say, I bow my head in defeat. “I’m so tired, all the time, and since this year started, I feel so tense all the time and I’m paranoid about everything!”, he looks at me eyes filled with concern. He wraps his arms around me pulling me in. “I miss feeling free like I did in high school, not worrying about finding a job or how many kids to a classroom, or how my roommates and I are gonna make rent when one of us got fired, one is student teaching, and the other blows all her money of weed and alcohol”, I add. He sits there, listening to me; I think this is all I needed, I just needed someone to listen to me. I sigh, “I’m just ready for college to be over.”

“I know baby girl, I’m sorry”, he hugs me deeply and rocking me. He pops up, “move in with me.”

“What?”

“Move in with me, you won’t have to pay rent, it’ll be me and you and sometimes a random stray dog that comes to the door for left overs.”

“Johnny, I can’t move in with you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Okay so move in with me, you can decorate the apartment however you want, and it is closer to school than your place.”

“Fine”, I roll my eyes and lay my head on his shoulder, “can I spend the night there tonight?”, I ask.

“Of course.” He answers back through the a goofy smile.

He flies us back to his apartment, it was a little warm, but with the cool New York air it felt nice. When we arrived I was immediately taken aback by how clean it is compared to our last sleepover. “Wow, were you planning this?”

“Pfft, whaaaaat?”, he says sarcastically. He’s blushing, “I cleaned up a bit. It was starting to smell like football practice.”

“Oh I see”, I wink.

“Are you hungry? I have some left overs!”, he points to the kitchen while taking off his shoes and jacket.

“No thank you”, I follow his motions, but leaving my sweatshirt on because it is freezing in his apartment, “by the way we need to find a middle ground for a temperature in this apartment I cannot have my nipples freezing off anytime I enter.”

“Why? That’s my favorite part.”

“You’re disgusting”, I huff

“Okay get into the bed now.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“That’s definitely not how you woo a woman.”

“I’m not trying to woo you”, he grabs my hand pulling me into him, “I’m trying to relieve your stress, I can feel it in your ass.”

“Ugh”, I roll my eyes, “remove your hands from my butt please.”

“Fine”, he kisses my lips and pulls me toward his dark room. “Take off your clothes and lay down”, he points to the bed. “You can leave your sweatshirt on, but take your bra off please.”

At least he asks nicely, he leaves the room and I do what he asks, I lay down and try to get myself in the mood. He comes back with some clothes, “here you go!”

“Oh.”

“What? You said you didn’t want to have sex so I wanted to get you some pajamas!” he cheers.

“Baby, this is underwear and a sweatshirt”, I point.

“Yeah, but they’re mine.”

“You’re adorable”, I smile grabbing the folded clothes from his hand. “You’re also a huge tease, I was preparing myself”, I add.

He chuckles, “no baby, I just respect you, would you like a bath and some popcorn?”, I nod. “Great because I already have one running and I have the iPad and bath tray set up for you”, he smiles like a dork.

“You did plan this!”, I gasp.

“Yes my dear I did, this whole night was planned, I could tell you weren’t okay, I really wanted you to talk to me so I can better understand how to approach your situation”, he smiles.

“Damn it Storm, I think I love you”, I smile.

“You think, or you know?”, he asks me.

“I know Johnny, I know I love you!”

“Yep that’s what I thought, beyatch!” He taps my head and laughs like a child, I knew this sweet moment wouldn’t last too long, he quite literally is the definition of ‘playing to much’.

“Okay Johnny”, I chuckle rolling my eyes and make my way to the en suite bathroom. He wasn’t lying my favorite movie was waiting for me to press play , the bathroom was warm from the bath water steam, it smelled like vanilla and lavender, and the only lights shining were from the vanilla scented candles. My heart practically melts out my chest. I take a deep inhale and exhale slowly and stripping the rest of my clothes to dip into the warm bath. I slip my curls into a bun pulling some stragglers out to frame my face. I lean back and press play on the movie letting the warm water swaddle my chilled body.

A few minutes later a half naked Johnny walks in with popcorn and an extra towel. “I’m gonna shower!”, he states pointing to the separate shower in the corner.

“Mmm”, I hum with my eyes close.

“Do you drink wine? I don’t remember.”, he asks stilling down to his underwear.

“Yeah”, I say calmly, I hear him pouring a glass and a clink of it being set down on my tray next to the popcorn and iPad. I grab the glass and take a sip, gosh I love a good moscato. “Thank you baby!”, I sigh relaxing once again.

“My pleasure.” I hear the shower starting and Johnny steps in.

After about twenty minutes, he’s out and sitting next to me on the edge of the bath, a white towel wrapped around his waist. He’s stairing at me, I can feel it through my closed eyes. I can’t help, but smile at the way this man is enamored by me.

“Why are you stairing at me?”, I ask opening my eyes.

“You look beautiful”, he remarks.

“Well thank you”, I respond, “do you wanna join me?”

“Nah, it’s almost time to get out”, his gaze lowers down from my face to my exposed breasts that are poking out from the water. I roll my eyes, but my gaze stops at the thing growing in between his legs. He grabs my chin pulling my head to look at his face, he smirks, “you like what you see?”

“Uh-w-e-y- uh”, I stumble.

“That’s okay, I like what is see”, he speaks lowly his usual bright blues turning into a dark navy. “It’s time to get out, you look very well relaxed.”

“I-okay”, words are stumbling from my mouth. I slowly stand up from the bath, stepping over the edge and walking into the towel Johnny is holding open for me. He wraps it around me, kissing my neck sending shivers down my spine.

He kisses my lips and walks us back into the room not pulling away from the deep kiss. He picks me up, hands supporting me on my ass. He grips firmly and squeezing gently, I moan into the kiss. He dips down onto the bed my legs still wrapped around his waist.

The kiss gets deeper, he slips his tongue into my mouth and his hands begin to travel all over my body, feeling every inch. He unwraps the towel from my body exposing my naked body to the cold air. He removes his lips from mine and trails kisses down my neck, collar bone and to my erect nipples. He sucks on my right nipple, my back arches into his hard cock, he swirls it with his tongue, and bites it softly causing a moan to escape. He smirks looking up at me, “you like that?”, I nod. “That’s my good girl”, he moves to the other one doing the same thing before trailing kisses down my stomach onto my hip bones.

He spreads my thighs slightly so his had and shoulders can fit between them, he leaves kisses and bite marks all over the inside of my thighs. “S’pretty”, he whispers in between kisses. He pauses, “let me put some sweatpants on”, he stands up walking over the the stack of clothes on the dresser. He slides on a pair of charcoal sweats making his bulge pop more. He saunters back over reclaiming his spot in between my legs.

“This is all about you, take however long you need to. I just want you to relax”, he looks up at me. I nod, grabbing a pillow to support my neck.

He kisses my lips and parts them slightly with his index finger. He rubs tiny circles in my plump clit, I moan quietly, “you can be a little louder baby, all the neighbors are gone”, he adds, “I like hearing you baby girl you always sounds so pretty.” He dips his head down, his tongue replaces his fingers, he swirls it softly.

Gosh it feels so good, he starts doing a sucking motion with his lips taking my whole clit into his mouth, his tongue softly licking me. My hands travel to his blond hair, I grip it as hard as I can as a way of saying ‘keep going’.

His tongue flicks pooling waves of pleasure through my body, he doesn’t speed up he doesn’t slow down, he keeps going at the same smooth pace. He not only fucks me good, but he really does know how to use is mouth for good. “O-oh m-my-“, I moan loudly.

“That’s my good girl”, he lifts his head up, but I immediately push it back down. His fingers that were gripping my thigh are being dipped into my dripping hole. He pumps them gently, pressing them upwards pressing my sensitive spot, my back arches to him even more. He speeds up his fingers, but keeping his mouth at the same speed, just the way I like it.

As quickly as my thoughts were racing earlier, they finally slowed own allowing me to focus on the sensation of a man making me feel good, and worshiping my body. The feeling of true pleasure and peace fill my body. “Baby please don’t stop.”

He keeps going at the same mind altering pace. My eyes roll to the back of my head, my back arching more, and wild shit falling from my tongue; I’m so close, I feel a knot in my stomach. My walls clench around his fingers, my pussy starts throbbing. I let go, all the stress, a mind blowing orgasm, I let it all go all over his fingers and I moan his name, locking my legs around him as I ride out my well earned orgasm.

“That’s it baby, you did so good”, he moves away from my pussy. I let out a hazy smile finally feeling relaxed.

“Thank you Johnny, I needed that.”

“I know”, he gleams. He stands up grabbing my towel and wiping off my cum from his fingers and my pussy. He tosses the towel into the pile in the bathroom handing me the clothes he laid out for me earlier. He helps get me dressed and lays down on the bed.

“Don’t you wanna…?”, as ask before unmaking my side of the bed.

I would be HAPPY to do this!

Mango and Movies

TomWelling!Clark Kent x afab!Reader, Reader POV

A/N: this and my recent participation in horse riding class has been inspiring me. I love, love, LOVE horses, and one day I will be owning one named Mango!

Summary: Clark helps you ride a horse. It’s also date night.

Warnings: NONE, just fluff, also not my gif!!

Clark is helping me tack up his horse, but the one that I borrow. I’m struggling with the girth getting it even on both sides because Mango keeps holding his breath, this is his least favorite part now making it my least favorite part. “Urg! Mango please stop”, I groan frustratedly while trying to pull the buckle to the third notch. “You have super strength Clark, can you PLEASE help?” I look at him. He just chuckles and shakes his head no, with his arms crossed against his chest. My irritation points to him, but damn those baby blues.

“Unfortunately I can’t help with this. You have to figure this one out for yourself sweetheart”, he looks down to me. I sigh, I fix my stance, hold my breath and try again pulling the girth upwards.

“You’re…so…mean”, I say while still struggling. And finally I get it clasped, I let out a deep breath as did Mango. I slip two fingers in between the girth and his tummy, it’s a perfect fit for now.

“There you go my love, you didn’t need my help, now did you?”, he kisses the top of my head. I roll my eyes walking over to grab the bridle and start putting it on the horse.

We make our way to the arena, so Clark can continue teaching Mango and I to ride.

Mango is four and the Kent’s rescued him last year, he and I bonded super quick so when I decided I wanted to ride, I immediately requested that I want to learn on Mango. They were hesitant at first, but they broke him enough to be able to ride around in the arena.

Clark hoisted me up so I can put my left foot in the stirrup and I swing over planting my right foot comfortably in the other one. He passes the reigns over to me, “remember, to get him to go you have to squeeze your legs tightly against his abdomen”, he reassures patting the horse’s neck. I nod doing as he says, and Mango does not move. I try again, a little harder and he starts walking, but slow. “Perfect darling you’re doing great, now I want you to turn right, do you remember how?” I nod pulling the reigns to the right, Mango follows the direction. “Good job princess!”, he smiles at me. “Now turn left and walk back to me”, I pull the reigns left and mango walks back to the left. “Perfect!”, I can’t help, but blush when I look in those eyes along with hearing those praises.

After a couple of hours of practicing walking around the area, the sun starts to set. We make our way out the arena, and begin getting Mango ready to go back into his stall for the night.

“I had fun, thank you!”, I hug Clark as we walk into the house, the smell of roasted chicken and veggies fill the air. He and I sit down in our respective chairs before preparing our plates to eat Mrs. Kent’s wonderful home made meal.

I help clean up the kitchen while Clark and Mr. Kent set up the projector in the hayloft for the movie date Clark and I planned.

“Are you ready baby?” He walks into the kitchen.

“Yeah!”, I smile, “Mrs. Kent do you need help with anything else?”

“No sweetheart you’re good to go, you guys enjoy your night!”, she smiles at us and adds a wink. Clark blushes, he grabs my hand rushing us out the door.

“Woah this is beautiful!”, the loft is filled with beautiful fairy twinkle lights, the air mattress is laying on top of two couches put together to create a bed, “Are those matching pajamas I see?”, he nods, I jump in excitement, and a little squeal slips from my lips. I hurriedly covers my mouth, “oh I’m sorry, I forgot your hearing is sensitive.”

“It’s okay baby, did I do okay?”, he looks at me with those captivating eyes, gosh they make me weak.

“You did perfect, happy anniversary.”, I stand on my tip toes planting a kiss on his soft lips.

“Happy anniversary, I love you.”

“I love you too”, I smile and kiss him again.

We change into the matching set, but for some reason he ‘forgets’ to put on his shirt. We cuddle up together dimming the lights, the movie begins playing. “Baby?” I nudge, “I have a question.”

He looks over at me, “what’s wrong?”, he asks.

“Do you still have feelings for Lois?”

“WHAT?!” He sits up, I look down and start playing with my nails. “Baby? Seriously?”

“What? Seriously. Y’all were engaged and then all of the sudden there’s no feelings involved?” I pause, “that really doesn’t make sense.”

He lifts my chin forcing eye contact with those pretty blue eyes. Gosh those eyes, “I have no feelings for her”, he reassures. “Baby, I love you, and you only”, he cups my face and pulls me in for a kiss.

Peter B. Parker x Maledom!reader

An- This was sorta rushed, i have been super busy and wanted it OUT today. Regardless enjoy! Request by: https://princeasimdiya12.tumblr.com/

Warnings- HUGE 18+, bdsm, cheating, Redlight District, bad google translate German. Not my gif.

I am so stressed out, this was supposed to be a fun vacation for Peni, Mary- Jane, and I. Yet for some reason I was doing more work than I was supposed to. I need a break, I’m getting to old for this shit.

Peni and Mary are fast asleep in the hotel sweet, I am restless, I can’t sleep; my body hurts and my mind fills with thoughts. I can’t do this anymore. Without hesitation I climb out of the bed, putting on a pair of jeans and a jacket. I slip on my shoes, and put my gold wedding band in the secret compartment of my suitcase.

I wander the streets of De-Wallen, Amsterdam, no destination in mind, it’s around three am and the city is bustling with music and people filling the streets. I finally settle on on a small building, it was calling my name, I needed this. I walk in the lady at the front desk gestures me back. I follow her motions, I walk into a room, it’s empty; a bench sits in the middle of the room, I hear the muffled music through the walls. The room smelled faintly of Tom Ford cologne and the walls were painted back. The red ceiling light hovered perfectly over the bench. I gulp, I strip off my clothes, and sit on the edge of the bench.

He walks in, he’s tall, toned muscular build, and he’s wearing a mask. His hair is dark and flows seamlessly over his black mask that covers his eyes almost completely. He closes and latched a heavy door behind him.

“Hallo Parker”, he walks to me. My once slumping head is being forced up by his strong rough hands. “Warum bist du hier?”

“I need a break”, I answer back in English, speaking German isn’t something I picked up in preparation for this trip. “Do you only speak German?”

“Nein”, he answers, “I prefer it”, his English is extremely broken, but his thick German accent makes my dick twitch in anticipation. “Do you mind Parker?” I shake my head no, he smirks in response.

“How do you know who I am?”

“I follow around city”, he begins prepping for my session, I relax my eyes gazing down his toned back, stopping at his black fitted jeans lying below his back dimples. “Lie back”, he speaks gruffly. I do as I’m told lying back on the bench. He clasps leather straps that were hanging from a pole on both my wrists, and another pair around my ankles. I’m trapped there’s no where for me to go now. My cock twitches with excitement, and my heart is feeling like it’s going to pound out of my chest. My vision goes dark, as he ties a silk scarf around my eyes. He slips something in my mouth and buckles it in the back of my head. Fuck, I’m being gagged; just thought of seeing myself bound and gagged with a red multilayered cloth gag is enough to get me to lose a load. I wait, in humiliation for him to begin.

Five minutes…

Ten minutes…

Fifteen…

I hear a buzz, and a like warm substance is being dripped into my asshole. Lube? He brings the buzzing toy to my body dancing it around the top of my swollen dick, I jerk. He doesn’t stop there, he brings it down my shaft and rubs its around by hole, it relaxes me, he slowly slides it in, I moan at the feeling of my hole being filled. “Fmg”, I grunt through the gag at the feeling of being filled radiates through my body.

“Das ist ein guter Junge”, he speaks lowly. I wiggle pulling against the restrains begging for more pleasure.

One orgasm…

Two…

It’s later kindly approaching 5am, I feel woozy, out of it, and just waiting to get water. “Can I get…water?”, I ask now that the gag has been removed from my mouth.

“Nein”, he says blankly.

“Then can I go back to my hotel?”

“Nein”, he repeats. I get more anxious. What if Mary wakes up and realizes I’m not there? “You stay.”

“Until when?”

“Until I say.”

“I booked an hour, it is well over an hour.”

TomWelling!Superman x afab!reader

Word Count: 664

A/N: Smallville (as Lois would call him) has been aged up to be 20. Post graduating highschool. I’m only on season 4 at the moment so the characters are only from the first 4 seasons (also not my gif!).

Warnings: Little bit of RedKryptonite!Clark, suggestive language, angsty asf, bad grammar, mention of family member death. I think that’s it!

Happy Reading!

It was one hell of a stormy day in Smallville, closely imitating twister weather. You’re sitting up in the Kent Hay loft watching the rain pound over the farm, it was relaxing. This weather put your mind an ease, you weren’t thinking about school, the Talon, or Clark. You hear a voice, you jump turning to face the one calling you.

“Hey!”, Chloe waves, “Sorry, I- didn’t mean to spook you.” She smiles walking to sit across from you on the bay window seat. “I heard you were staying with the Kent’s, and I wanted to drop by and check on you, I know things have been rough since Clark disappeared.” She reaches her hand to your shoulder.

“I’m okay”, you flash a fake smile turning you gaze back to the rolling rain. “How’s Lana?”, eyes still fixed on the rain.

“She’s not great, but she’s also not okay”, Chloe removes her hand from your shoulder.

“Oh”, is all you can muster up.

“Why don’t you go talk to her, and ask her for yourself?”, this question removes your eyes from the downpour.

“Why? She’s not talking to me. She thinks I’M the reason Clark left.”

“I doubt that’s true, y/n. You’re her BEST friend.”

“WAS”, you sneer.

“No IS”, she replies. “I think you should go to the Talon, and TALK to her.” She stands up, grabs your arm tugging you off the seat. “Gosh you’re so weird, I would definitely put you on my SECRET wall of weird if you’re weren’t human.”, you roll your eyes. Your body is hesitant to stand up but you finally do, following Chloe out of the Hayloft. “You and Clark are really are perfect for each other.”

“Yeah, I guess so”, you chuckle. You file into Chloe’s new red beetle and head into town. After while, the rain soaks back up into the clouds, and you are finally at Lana’s coffee shop. Your heart pounding with anxiety, “I don’t want to do this, I have nothing to say to her.”

“Oh yes you do”, Chloe got out of the drivers side walking around to you and pulling you out of the car. You entered the shop, you pick out the table farthest from the bar where Lana is cleaning the after math of the rainstorm rush.

“Chloe, I don’t want to be here.” You put your head down on the table and let out a long winded dramatic whine.

“That sucks, but you guys need to talk”, she rubs your back. “HEY! Lana!”, she waves her over. Lana walks over smiling, you lift your head up smiling back.

“Hey! Chloe! Y/n!”, she exclaims, she doesn’t see upset at all, or maybe she’s putting on face to save Chloe some embarrassment. “Usuals?”

“YES?”, you and Chloe exclaim in unison.

“Got it! Two. VANILLA iced lattes coming up!”, she walks away making her way back to the coffee bar.

“See, she’s not upset! You’re fine.”, Chloe gestures.

“She doesn’t seem like it, but Lana has always been good at putting on a face. You and I both know that”, you respond.

After about 5 minutes Lana returns with three blue coffee mugs, “I need a break, I think I’m gonna join you girls for some coffee, if you don’t mind!”, she sits down in the chair across from you and Chloe.

“Totally!”, Chloe states. You guys chat for a bit about school, life, and nothing about Clark; you preferred this. Lana has been your best friend since Kindergarten, and you guys have made it a point to not let petty one sided drama get in between your friendship. The Clark situation left as quickly as it came. Chloe was shocked at the lack of Clark talk, maybe she wanted some drama for her Tourch gossip.

After your coffee dinner you ended up back at the Kent’s getting ready for bed, 5 am comes quickly, you put your hair in a braid and put on Clark’s primary red sweatshirts and a pair of boxers and climb into his bed that you were borrowing. You dose off after 20 minutes. Your sleep was restful for the first hour. You jolt awake from the bed shifting beside you.

“You look peaceful”, the voice was familiar, but in your groggy state you couldn’t pin it down.

“Wha-“, you roll over turning on his bedside lamp, and jump spooked by the boy sitting next to you shirtless on his bed. “Oh-oh my gosh CLARK?!”, you whisper scream as to not wake his parents. You reach your hand out to touch his face in awe, “oh-oh wow!”, a smile fills your face.

“Hey baby”, his smile was alluring, but it wasn’t normal, it was full of mischief. “Sorry I did not mean to wake you.” He adds running his hands through you hair sweeping back the whispies blocking your face.

“Clark, what are you doing here?”, your voice laced with concern.

“I thought it was time to come home.”

“Wow”, you huff, crossing your arms slightly pushing your boobs up. Clark stares intently at your chest. “CLARK! You’re a perv!”, you swiftly uncross your arms hitting him on the shoulder as hard as you can. He chuckles.

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” He lays down next you stripping off his pants so he’s left in only Calvin Klein briefs. You can’t help, but use your “X-Ray” vision, “Hey you pervert. I’m trying to get some rest”, he mocks. He rolls over you to turn off the lamp. He wraps you in his arms and both of you drift off to sleep.

You feel something growing against your back, you lean into him acknowledging that you feel his hardening dick unintentionally. He draws you in closer, kissing down your neck as a response to your movements. He sends shivers down your spine, he snakes his hands underneath the sweatshirt lightly stroking the bare skin of your back. “So soft”, Clark whispers against your neck, “I missed your skin.”

He’s acting like nothing has happened, like he didn’t disappear for 2 months to who knows where. You looked for him in Metropolis, Gotham, other parts of Kansas and yet you couldn’t find your stupid boyfriend especially when you needed him the most. Your grandpa passed away and it left you homeless and due to your proximity to the Kent’s they let you stay during summer before the Fall semester of KU began. You appreciate their kindness, but for some reason Mr. Kent wanted you, the girl with the pretty nails and terrible sleep schedule to wake up at 5am to “pull your share” which meant mucking stalls and lifting heavy bales of hay. You were completely okay with this set-up you love being outside and around animals although the hay rash is a tad bothersome.

“Do your parents know your back?”, you whisper eyes still closed.

“No.” His voice was stern, like he was angry at you for even asking.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry I’ll tell them in the morning”, he follows, “we aren’t waking up at five am, as a member of the Kent family I declare you have an off day.” You smile exhaling a sigh from your nose.

“Fine”, he smiles into your neck wrapped you in closer.

The sun creeps through his curtains and an annoying screeching fills the room. You wrestle to turn off the alarm clock blaring in your ear. You finally get it off, you feel emptiness beside you, ‘where is he?’ You get out of bed sliding on a pair of house shoes and stumble out the room, down the stairs, and begin making your way out the house to the hayloft where you suspect Clark to be hiding. You don’t see him, but the storm cellar door is open in the distance. You knew this ship was hiding there, you know Clark’s secret, but not everything. You didn’t know why he disappeared, or why he was acting like a complete ass before he left. You see a red light beaming through the dark room. “Good morning”, you say waltzing down the stairs.

“Hey.” He doesn’t turn around, his eyes fixed on the glowing red rock.

“What is that?”, you ask coming closer and wrapping your arms around his toned stomach.

“Red Kryptonite”, he answers eyes still enamored.

“Oh.” You give him a tight hug, sighing into his back, “what does it do?”

“Changes me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It makes me feel like me,” he pauses, “like Kal- El.”

“Who?”

“That’s my birth name”, he answers.

“So the real you disappears for a long period of time, doesn’t tell anyone where you are, and comes back out of the blue acting like everything is okay?”, you break away from him. He finally removes his gaze from the rock, closing the led box.

He sighs, “I don’t FEEL anything, that’s what I like. I FEEL so much, sometimes I don’t want to. I want to make my decisions based off myself sometimes and not care about how others feel”, Clark exclaims.

“You can’t be serious right now”, you argue irritations flooding your voice. He just looks at you with those dumb baby blues. “I swear! That was so selfish of you, why did you do it? Because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was leaving Smallville? Were you scared? Why Clark? Why would you be so selfish at a time I needed YOU most”, tears fill your beautiful bright eyes. You begin crying, sliding down onto the ground, emotions completely uncontrollable. He sighs, sitting down next you wrapping his big arms around you pulling you into a comforting hug.

“I thought I told you were sleeping in?” He chuckles. You sniffle staring up at his blue eyes yet again.

“Clark, I’m not playing with you I’m very upset and I think you owe me an explanation.”

“You will get one, but not right now. Right now you get an apology”, he begins softly stroking your messy curls that peaked out from last night’s braid and kisses the top of your head. “I’m sorry y/n, I never meant to hurt you” he adds rocking you in his arms.

“Well you did, did you know papa died the day after you left?”

“Yeah, I was at the funeral.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I couldn’t, and that’s because I was being selfish”, you hum at his response.

“I’m hungry, I think your mom is awake. Let’s go eat some breakfast and we can talk about this later”, you smile standing up, reaching out your hand to pull him off the ground. He pulls you back down with his ‘super strength’. He kisses your lips deeply, a kiss you missed so much. You match his rhythm hands tangling in each others hair.

Rules-

•This is the internet I can’t control what others do on here, but I don’t tolerate hate of any kind, so if I see any of it on my page you’re getting blocked.

•I prefer that you be 18+, and I will tag it as such.

•I will write for anyone that are fictional characters, I get real uncomfortable writing for real people especially because sometimes they have partners and we need to protect our peace.

•Please assume F!reader unless stated! I’m sorry I only write for what I know! Feel free to request gender neutral, nonbinary, or male and I will try my hardest!

•Characters under the age of 18 will be aged up to around my age or older (I’m twenty).

•I don’t write about S/A or abuse, but a character may have a past, but nothing will be mentioned. This is a safe space!

I believe those are all the rules, if not I will keep this post updated!

Schedule-

I am in college, and I am super duper busy with the start of my Junior year. I want to post at most twice a week preferably Sunday and Wednesday. This isn’t set in stone, but I know consistency is KEY!! If I miss an upload there will most likely be an explanation as to why in the A/N. I like to take breaks to avoid burnout, as a college student and a writer it will be inevitable so I apologize in advance.

Others-

I write on my phone, so grammar and formatting errors may occur, I use Chat GPT to help with grammar, but it flags me for violating community guidelines. So I’m sorry.

At the moment my inbox is open so I am taking requests. Please read rules before messaging me.

I think that’s it! If I have anymore to say I will keep this post updated! Thank you all for your time!

Angsty and Fluffy pt. 2 of “Caught”

Summary: After part 1 you find some news that shocks you, and you don’t really know how to react, and then an even bigger shock appears.

Author Note: Hey everyone, I was going to wait to post this part two, but I got excited. I have to post this next part. It’s kinda cute!

Warnings: Age gap mentioned, Mentions of murder, Jake (Dick’s son) is brought up, but only for a second, mention of blood, And Main Character is kind of annoying.

Happy reading!!

“What happened?” He pulls you into a tight hug, you could feel his heart pounding through his bare chest. He keeps himself groomed well, not a single chest hair in sight to tickle your ears or nose. He lets out a deep breath and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Baby, it’s okay you can tell me.”, you reassure him leaning in deeper into his hug.

“Nothing. Just a bad mission.” He sighs. He lets go of you and sits up in the bed, his head falls to his palms. You hear a soft cry. You hug him as close as you can to you. No words need to be said in this moment. That’s okay, you understand that his line of work comes with its ups and downs, but this doesn’t feel normal. He never cry’s he’s more a punching bag kinda man. Or sometimes he is “pouting” in the bat cave. But you have never seen or heard him cry, something or someone made him crack. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” You rock, and stroke is messy black hair. “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happened. Whatever you saw it’s gonna be okay.” You half heartedly smile removing his hands from his face gently. You cup his face and kiss his cheeks. “You’re alive and that’s all that matters.” You follow. His face sinks into your palms, eyes fluttering shut.

“I-“ he hesitates, sighs, “I- killed somebody.” He pauses, his teary doe eyes locking with yours. Your eyes widen at the news, you move back slightly as shock fills your senses.

“Wh-wha-why?”, you stutter.

“He was going to hurt you, I can’t let that happen”, his hands reach up to grab your face. You jerk back slightly. You remove yourself from the bed finding the closest items you have that resemble clothes and dart out the room to the bathroom slamming the door behind you.

Your body sinks down to the ground, you pull your knees to your chest and sit there zoning out. No tears, no thoughts, your mind is silent. Two minutes later a soft knock rings through the bathroom, shaking you out of your “thoughts”. “Hey, baby?”, you say nothing. “fuck-shit”, he whispers to himself. “ y/n, I need to come in, I have to tell you what happened. I’m also bleeding one of my scratches opened back up.” His voice doesn’t sound normal, it’s concern, panic, and regret. You contemplate, opening up the door while still sitting on the cold tile floor. You know the rules, they never kill, so why was this any different. Was it his fear talking? An accident? You don’t know how to feel about this but you sit silently, he seats himself on the toilet. You grab the first aid from the bottom of the shelf and begin to unpack the materials needed to close up his scratches so they won’t get infected.

“What happened?” You ask, voice flat. You begin to clean his chest with alcohol, which cause him to inhale sharply. “What happened to make you kill, what happened to YOU?” You add.

He sighs, “They were gonna hurt you like I said.” His head falls, “Superman, he was going to hurt you. There’s something wrong with him. It scared me.” Your eyebrow cocks.

“You killed Clark Kent?”, you grab neosporin and a wrap. He nods.

“I did.” He sighs his head lifting to face the ceiling, “I got scared, you’re alone, mom is gone, dad in Arkham. You’re alone.” You stand up and wrap his chest with the gaws and wrap.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You softly speak.

“You don’t need that stress. Always looking over your shoulder. That’s not fair to you.” You sit back down placing the components back into the box before finding you place back on the floor. “You’re good for me, but it’s dangerous for you. These villains know that I love you and they will taunt me. Always threatening to hurt you or Jake.” You pause, your movements stop. Did he just say what you think he said?

“You what?”

“What?”, he looks confused, “My son Jake? Remember?”

“No not that.” He tilts his head trying to figure out the problem with his statement. “You love me?” You ask.

His dark eyes look into yours, his pupils enlarged. He smiles softly at you.

“yes, y/n”, he pauses, “I love you and I was trying to find the perfect time to tell you, but that’s hard.” He adds

“Ha, yeah.”

“Hey”, he places his fingers under your chin lifting up slightly so your eyes can meet again, “I love you, beyond simple words can explain, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, how ever long or short.”

“Oh. Wow!”

“Oh. Wow?” He repeats, “I mean I get it if you don’t. My way of life isn’t for everyone, but after a year you would thi-“, before he could finish his sentence you pull him into a deep kiss. Hands tangled into his dark hair, pulling him so deeply. Sparks fly in your heart. You pull away smiling.

“I love you too Dickie.”

“Really?”, he grins still looking deeply into your eyes, “wow!”

“Yes-“

He stands up from the toilet and runs off tho the room. You don’t know what he’s doing and you just sit there on the bathroom floor. A few moments later he scrambled back in, he looks extremely dopey, his wide grin and red cheeks. He has something hidden behind his back.

“Ri-“

“Before I do this, I really need you to stop calling me Richard.” He puts out one of his hands gesturing you to shake on it. “Deal.”

“Yeah, deal.”, you reach out your hand, giving it a nice firm shake.

“Okay”, he inhaled before dropping down on his knees matching your level. He lets out a deep exhale puling the small box from behind his back. “Y/n I love you.” You gasp hands covering your mouth, “You mean so much to me, and I will never let anyone hurt you. I will always keep you safe from this crazy ass world. I promise to cherish you and make you the happiest woman in the world.” His smile just goes wider, you feel tears brimming your eyes. “Listen I know you’re 20 and still going through school, but I want to grow with you and know that you’re mine forever. We don’t have to get married right away, but I am giving you this ring to show a visual of my love.” He opens the small velvet box to reveal a medium sized teardrop diamond ring. Nothing to flashy. You smile looking up at him, “Will you marry me Y/n?”

You smile, holding out your left hand, thank goodness you just did your nails. He slides the ring on your small finger, it’s a perfect fit.