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#I think about him a normal amount <3 what a guy
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Denim — C. Xavier
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Pairing: 60s (First Class)!Charles Xavier x GN!Reader
Summary: Charles takes you out, but you're quite the fussy shopper. (Pls spare me idk how to write summaries 😥)
CW/Tags: suggestive content, pre-beach divorce Charles, no use of Y/N (there never will be on my blog), don't like don't read.
A/N: Huzzah guys I'm finally writing !!!! This prolly won't get much traction bc it's not Logan but fuck it we ball 🔥🔥 This has been rotting in Docs for like a week and I just finished it like 15 mins ago so here we go.. 😁 Also I wrote this as Fem!Reader in mind but I realised it could be GN so I'll just put it as that :3
WC: 461 / Navigation
Divider credits (They're so cute istg bro) here and here
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Charles Xavier was not your sugar daddy. He could believe he was all he wanted, but your very minimal amount of dignity drew the line at that title.
The man could buy you everything you ever even thought of — which was fairly easy, considering his mutation — yet you wouldn't admit it even if you had 8 fully loaded AK-47s pointed at your face.
“Just get it, for God's sake,” Charles drawled, nodding at the pair of mid-blue bootcut jeans you'd been fawning over for what felt like half his lifetime. 
When you give the gorgeous denim another doubtful up-down, he gets up from his concerningly squeaky stool bordering the men’s section and reaches for your wrist.
“It would take immense effort to make me go bankrupt, sweetheart.” He places his credit card in your palm, gently forcing your fingers over it with a short smile. It's not the first time he's done this, and it most definitely won't be the last.
“I have a pair just like thi—” you try to argue weakly, but the gloved hand over your mouth leaves you no choice but to shut your gob. God, this man was direct.
“Uh-uh, not hearing it. We both know exactly how much you want it. End of discussion. Go pay.” 
He carefully nudges you forward in the direction of the distant cashier, but you blatantly refuse to move an inch. He stares incredulously at the back of your head and you have to bite back a laugh beneath the confines of his palm. 
You should’ve expected it, but the British in your brain still catches you by surprise. Damn colonizers.
“Get the damn pants. Your ass would look lovely in them,” he pats your ass with his free hand as punctuation, attempting to urge you forward yet again.
“All you care about is my ass,” you retort mentally.
“Yes and no. It's definitely up there.”
“I'm gonna bite you.”
“Kinky. But keep it in your shorts ‘til we get back, yeah?”
He takes his hand off your face and gets out of your head. You whip your head around to silently complain at him, but he's staring right back at you with a smile that, to the normal person, would look as if he'd done no wrong. But to you, it was only making your situation worse.
The same smile which was pissing you off in ways you didn't even think possible morphs into a genuine laugh delivered softly, and for God's sake, you can't keep your stomach from doing a brief flip at the sound.
“Fine. Pretend you don't want them. But you're going to pay with my card, and I'll show you exactly how much you won't regret buying them when we get back to my office.”
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marblerose-rue · 4 months
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wyll (as a warrior cat)
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Just finished the show a few days ago, so that's why I'm only just posting this now.
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#also yes PB is problimatic but so are a lot of the other characters & i don't care#lady reinacorn would probably be higher in her category if i understood what she was saying but unfortunately i don't#tier list#adventure time#adventure time tier list#magic man is where he is because he became normal man otherwise he'd be in the last category#cinnamon bun is only where he is due to his character growth in the flame kingdom before that he would have been in the meh category#lsp is where she is coz i actually find her funny#hope tier 3 lemongrab is meant to be the 3rd version because I like him the best out of all the lemongrabs#sweet pea wasn't on there but i would probably put him before or after fern#root beer guy is only where he is because I like what they did with him when he got resurrected#speaking of which cherry sods should be on here to & if she was I'd probably place her before him#as her reaction to his death & resurrection was super interesting#just realised that starchy isn't on here either i think I'd place him before mr pig#on reflection I'd put the cosmic owl in the 3rd category after prismo#i haven't watched distant lands or fiona & cake yet so please no spoilers#tiffany is where he is because i find him funny even though he is always hating on my boy finn#upon reflection I actually find amo quite interesting (still annoying though)#with his desperate need to be loved without the ability to give it in return#& how no amount of affection would probably ever have been enough#like talk about depressing#on second thought i'd actually put Grob/Gob/Glob Grod in the cool powers but lack of personality category#ash actually belongs in the worst category coz how he gonna do my girl marcy like that#& Jake's alien dad should actually be in the crazy threat category#coz he straight up travels to different dimensions to make kids so he can drain them of their powers & then leave them to die#& wanted to do the same to his grandkids like that's some next level evil#recardio should really have is own category as while he is kind of threat (he did kidnap finn & jake & beat up lady that one time)#his just not scary like people in the crazy threat category are (more just creepy/weird/gross & annoying)
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fivefeetfangirl · 11 months
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convention money is crazy. i wish i could make that kind of cash just from taking pics with people and signing my name on shit. lord what misha and jensen made in two days would feed and house me for a decade easy. madness. i bet they got free food all weekend too. fuck my entire life aint worth $250k. i could literally sell everything i own, a kidney and my ass to a dozen dudes and still be 90% short of what misha and jensen made this past weekend.
you and me nonny, you and me 😔
personally im good. i dont need their money. i'll wear my wool sweater and wool socks and keep warm etc etc but it just feels so unrealistic sometimes. like they really do be living such a completely different life than most of their fans. thinking about con prices and such really is crazy. im not gonna come on here and say they should do this and this with their money but i do hope they do feel some resposibility to do something useful with it
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ham1lton · 3 months
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just a normal girl.
pairings: charles leclerc x comedienne!reader.
summary: just a normal girl is a stand-up netflix comedy special performed by actress and comedienne y/n l/n in which she discusses her childhood, her horrible first meeting with her boyfriend and being a twenty something in london.
author’s note: based on that one anon’s dream but i changed it up slightly! also eid mubarak to all my muslim followers celebrating today! this is for you <3 i also have a new taglist so please help me out by filling it if you’d like to be tagged in future works!
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JUST A NORMAL GIRL TRANSCRIPT.
Y/N L/N: so, charles decides to take me shopping. fancy, right? we walk into this chic little boutique and, surprise, the shopkeeper only speaks french. now, i don’t speak french. at all. my entire french vocabulary consists of 'oui' and 'croissant.' meanwhile, charles is chatting away like he’s in a romance film, all suave and shit.
[audience laughs]
Y/N L/N: and there i am, standing there, smiling and nodding like i understand every word. for all i knew, charles could be telling the guy, 'this is my new project. she thinks monaco is in morocco. and i’ve been dared to make her over like that one freddie prinze jr film.' and i’m just like, 'yes, absolutely. très bien.’
[audience laughs harder]
Y/N L/N: so charles is chatting to the guy in french as they go through the boutique and he inevitably finds this gorgeous dress. he hands it to me, all excited, like ‘try it on! you’ll look stunning’ and i look at the price tag. why was this dress more than my rent? for that price the dress needs to fill my fridge, put shelter over my head and fly like a magic carpet.
Y/N L/N: i exit the changing room, because when a cute guy asks me to do something… i can’t say no. i can’t help it! i can’t say no to pretty faces!
[audience laughs]
Y/N L/N: charles is looking at me in this dress like i’m an angel from above and i’m calculating the amount of ramen noodles i’ll have to buy to smooth over my overdraft. maybe if i wear it every day for the next sixty five years, it’ll work itself out? then charles chats to the shopkeeper and points at me and then at charles and i’m thinking… what the hell are they saying about me. he’s probably telling charles ‘this girl is not for you. she’s very clueless and can’t handle the high life you are accustomed to’.
[audience boos the shopkeeper]
Y/N L/N: oh no, don’t boo him. he was right. i was clueless and unable to handle the high life. charles looks at me smiling like ‘should we get the dress?’. on the inside i’m like, NOOOOOOOOOOOO but on the outside i’m like, oh sure, yeah, why not. but he rings it up and says ‘that’ll be 32,489 euros please’ and i want to die. but then charles just hands over his card and i remember… i’m dating a guy who probably earns my life savings in a day. life goals, am i right ladies?
[the ladies in the audience cheer]
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liked by netflix, charles_leclerc and 483,938 others.
yourusername: tfw your netflix special is number one for two weeks so ur man buys u two flower bouquets. guys get please me to three so i can get another <3
also i have had a recent influx of followers? so hi. i’m y/n, i act and i think i’m funny sometimes. if you’ve watched my netflix special? mwah <- that’s me kissing your forehead.
view all 2,737 comments
charles_leclerc: not you cheating on me in your caption ☹️🙁
-> yourusername: sorry you had to find out this way <3
user1: omg is she muslim?? and a hijabi??
-> user2: finding yn… inshallah they find her.
user4: NOOOO HE’S TAKEN….
-> user4: BY A BADDIE TOO…. NOOOOO
maxverstappen1: made a netflix account to watch you and it was good! 👍🏻
-> yourusername: thank you user maxverstappen1. always appreciate the support from grassroots fans such as yourself.
arthur_leclerc: wait was the kidnapping story real?
-> yourusername: obviously! i have never lied in a comedy special. exaggerated, perhaps, but never lied! what sort of woman do you take me for?
user6: why can’t we see your face in any of these pics?
-> yourusername: because you can see my face on netflix in hd in my new comedy special - just a normal girl :)
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JUST A NORMAL GIRL TRANSCRIPT.
[spotlight on y/n l/n standing center stage, audience is attentive]
Y/N L/N: the first time charles invited me to a formula 1 race. i know, right? fancy! i mean, i usually spend my weekends binge-watching netflix in my pajamas, and suddenly, i’m in the vip section at a grand prix. talk about a plot twist.
[audience laughs]
Y/N L/N: so, we get there, and i'm already feeling out of place. everyone is dressed to the nines in designer outfits, and i’m wearing the only fancy dress i own, which is basically just a black dress i got on sale at h&m. but i’m trying to fit in, pretending i know what’s going on. spoiler alert: i have no idea what’s going on.
[audience laughs louder]
Y/N L/N: charles is introducing me to all these important people, and they’re all speaking this mix of french, italian, and who-knows-what. and i'm just standing there, smiling and nodding, because that’s my default mode in these situations.
[audience laughs]
Y/N L/N: then, charles introduces me to his team, and they start explaining all these technical details about the car. and i’m thinking, 'wow, this is fascinating,' but honestly, it sounds like they’re speaking another language. they could be telling me the car runs on unicorn tears, and i’d just nod along, 'ah yes, absolutely. unicorn tears. very efficient. not very sustainable though….’
[audience laughs]
Y/N L/N: alright, so while we’re on the topic of my boyfriend, let me tell you about the time my family found out i was dating a rich formula one driver. you’d think they’d be excited for me, proud even. but no, my family? they just saw dollar signs.
Y/N L/N: so, i’m visiting my family for the holidays, and everything is going well. we’re having dinner, catching up, and then my aunt, bless her heart, leans over and whispers, 'is it true? are you really dating a formula one driver?' and i’m like, 'well yes, aunt sarah, it’s true.'
Y/N L/N: now, my family is not subtle. at all. within minutes, it’s like they’ve formed a council of war. my uncle pulls out his phone and starts googling charles. my mom is like, 'how much money does he make?' and my dad is suddenly very interested in the price of sports cars.
Y/N L/N: i’m sitting there, trying to eat my mashed potatoes, and they’re plotting how to get charles to invest in my cousin’s failed business. my cousin, who once tried to sell homemade kombucha and ended up giving half the neighbourhood food poisoning. that cousin.
[audience laughs heartily]
Y/N L/N: my brother, always the opportunist, chimes in with, 'hey, maybe he can get us a discount on a new ferrari!' like it’s a shein code that you can input on the website and i’m just sinking lower in my chair, wishing i could disappear.
Y/N L/N: so, i finally snap. i stand up and say, 'look, i know i’m broke, but i’m fine. i don’t need to use charles as an atm. he’s not a walking bank account, he’s a person.' and they’re all just staring at me, like i’ve grown two heads.
Y/N L/N: then my grandma, who hasn’t said a word all night, just quietly stands up and says, 'well, if he’s that rich, maybe he could at least buy us a new dishwasher. the old one is on its last legs.' and i’m like, 'seriously, grandma?'
[audience laughs louder]
Y/N L/N: but you know, through all this, charles has been amazing. he’s patient, understanding, and he never makes me feel bad about my financial situation. i’m broke, but i’m fine. and honestly, i think that’s what makes us work. i keep him grounded, and he... well, he reminds me that sometimes, it’s okay to splurge on the extras.
[audience cheers and applauds]
Y/N L/N: but here’s the thing about dating someone like charles. the highs are incredible, but there are lows too. there are moments when you feel like you’re in a fairy tale, and then there are times when reality hits you hard. like, after that amazing day at the race, we got home and charles was still buzzing from the win. and i… i was just exhausted.
[audience quiets down, listening intently]
Y/N L/N: i remember lying in bed that night, charles fast asleep beside me, and i couldn’t help but think about how different our worlds are. he’s out there living his dream, racing cars and traveling the world, and i’m just trying to keep up, trying to fit into a life that sometimes feels so foreign to me.
Y/N L/N: it’s hard, you know? being with someone who’s so extraordinary when you feel so ordinary. there’s this constant fear that one day he’ll wake up and realize he deserves someone who belongs in his world, someone who isn’t just pretending.
[audience is silent, reflective]
Y/N L/N: but then i look at him, and i see how much he loves me, how he looks at me like i’m the only person in the room, and for a moment, all those doubts fade away. because maybe, just maybe, being a normal girl is exactly what he needs in his extraordinary life.
[audience applauds softly]
Y/N L/N: thank you for listening, everyone. you've been amazing! enjoy the rest of your night. i know i will!
[spotlight dims, y/n exits to a heartfelt applause]
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liked by ynwifey, f1wags and 587,828 others.
yourusername: birds of a feather, we should stick together 🎶
tagged: @charles_leclerc
view all 34,937 comments
user1: SHES SO PRETTY
-> user4: BADDEST BITCH
user9: mashallah sis! you look gorgeous :)
*liked by yourusername.*
user10: a billie fan!!!! omg!!
user89: charlesyn is so cute. funny gf x pretty bf.
-> user12: the way she is also pretty gf but he isn’t funny bf 😔
landonorris: no one wants to see happy couples on the timeline thanks x
-> yourusername: unfollow me x
-> landonorris: but who will make me laugh then 😔
-> yourusername: knock knock 😋
-> landonorris: who’s there 😁
-> yourusername: single 🙀
-> landonorris: single who? 🤨
-> yourusername: single you! still waiting for a punchline and a date 😊
-> landonorris: 😔
-> randomstalkerfan1: i’ll date you lando! :D
-> landonorris: would rather stay single thanks x
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deadsetobsessions · 5 months
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Sea Cryptic! Danny Pt.6
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”
“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”
“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.
Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”
“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.
“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”
Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”
“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”
Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”
Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.
“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”
“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”
“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.
They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.
“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.
“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.
“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”
“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”
Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.
“Hey, you live near here, right?”
Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.
“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”
Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.
“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”
Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!
Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”
“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”
Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”
“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”
Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”
Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”
Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”
What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”
“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”
“Uh-huh.”
“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”
Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?
“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”
“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”
“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”
Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”
——
Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.
“We’ve done stupider things.”
“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”
“Agreed.”
Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.
Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.
Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.
One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.
Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.
“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.
“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”
“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.
Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”
“No problem.”
Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.
Timsy
[5 nin]
Nin
Nin
Nin
Min
Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”
“Alright.”
Danny texted back an okay.
Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.
“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.
“Damn, bro. You good?”
“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!
“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”
A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.
“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”
“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.
“Sorry…” Tim apologized.
“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”
“Do you really pay taxes?”
Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”
“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.
“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”
Tim stared.
——
“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.
Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.
——
“How did you die?”
Phantom snarled and disappeared.
Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.
“Where’d he go?”
“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.
“What? What did I do?”
“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”
“I didn’t know that!”
“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”
——
Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.
“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.
“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.
Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.
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full-cowlings · 4 months
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virgin izuku thoughts ..
includes   |   virgin! pro hero izuku midoriya . dom-ish? reader. fem!bodied reader ( no pronouns asides from 'you' used ) , dry humping ( sort of ? ) , cumming in pants .. embarrassed izu <3 TWITTER P0RN LINK !!
word count ; 1149 !
currently thinking about pro hero izuku who's surprisingly still a virgin !! imagine how surprised you were when you found out about it ? i mean ... he was just so tall , strong and incredibly handsome .. as well as the number one hero in japan ! he could pick up anybody he wanted ! so how was izuku of all people a virgin ? you two had been a fling for a while now, casual dates here and there, but never really going anything further than the usual make out session and occasional groping here and there . but even that made him nervous , although that was rather adorable in your eyes, really . especially when all you had to do was look him up and down, bite your lip then look away and he'd feel his pants tighten . however, today seemed to be the day that you two got further than your normal ... to which you found out that the pro hero deku ... had never had someone in his bed before ! what an honour it was to be his first ... so , pressing your lips on his and gently laying him down, nothing more was left to be said asides from you promising him that you'd take care of him ...
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xx. [ c/w ,, twitter porn video !! ] thinking of sitting reverse cowgirl on izuku midoriya's lap, riding him through your guys undergarments ... and how cute is it when he cums just from that!! you two were basically completely bare, the only thing separating the two of you being his pair of boxers and your skimpy panties . izuku's bulge is fully visible in his boxers now, the tent visible and it twitching underneath just the slightest brush of your fingertips. your hands are splayed on the pro hero's muscular and toned thighs and again it makes you wonder just how someone of his strength hasn't had anyone in his bed yet . he feels so strong underneath you, which only makes it all the more exciting when you realise he's shivering under the slightest movement from you. your ass is pressed against the tent in his pants, his left hand is settle on your ass as well , holding onto you as you use your hands as leverage to bounce up and down on his lap.
within seconds he's moaning from underneath you, gasps and whimpers falling from izuku's parted lips as his head is thrown back. was all intimate moments this good, or were you just special? how had he gone this long without feeling the soft plush of your skin underneath his scarred fingertips ? izuku's lips part as his voice rings out your name and his hips jump instinctively with every bounce of your hips. the fabric against his restrained cock is both the best and worst thing he has felt. it's restricting from feeling you skin to skin, but at the same time it's putting just the right amount of friction against the head of his cock that he's practically seeing stars already !!
your own lips curl into a coy smile, the fact he's falling apart under you so easily is almost so ego-boosting... who else could say that they had deku in whimpering shambles other than you ??
you glance back at him , eyes clouded in lust as he meets your thrusts to his clothed cock. he has his right arm over his eyes, his head thrown back and yet you can still see the pink tint to his freckled cheeks. biting your lip, you let out a moan yourself, how could someone look so pretty ? " you like that, izu ? " you ask , voice sultry , teasing , and all he can do is nod through his moans . " yesyesyes , oh fuck - ! more, feels so good .. " he's most likely going to look back and cringe in embarrassment after this, knowing his voice was strained from only the feel of your panties and ass rubbing up and down his shaft. you giggle and suddenly there was such a loud gasp that left izuku's mouth as your hips bounced faster. this was ... so much better than feeling his own hand around his cock, thumbing his precum over his swollen head, hips lifting off and thrusting into his own hand as he imagined it was you .. imagined it was your tight pussy he would be fucking instead. the thoughts were too much for poor izu, his mind was swirling with pleasure and suddenly, there was a high pitched whine, his back arching and thighs trembling underneath you. his hand came up to cover his mouth, but it didn't do much other than slightly muffle the lewd sounds he was letting out. cum leaked out from his cock, soaking right through his boxers and staining your pretty underwear .. he had came so fast , but he couldn't help it !! you felt just... so, so heavenly bouncing up and down on him like that ! viridan hues snapped open as he realised what happened, you turning to look down at his leaking dick with a grin of satisfaction. " i - i'm so sorry, i didn't m - mean to - i just- you- " and his words were a jumbled bunch of mess, propping himself to sit up a little more and frantically look for a tissue or anything to clean himself off. his cheeks were so red, the heat from his dick rising now to his face, creeping to his ears and back of his neck... he didn't mean to cum, honest !! but before he could, two of your fingers reached down and swiped over the dampened fabric, brushing over his sensitive cock which twitched and made him whine again. despite the fact his chest was rising and falling so fast, so heavily, he was still hard .. he needed more .. he needed you so, so bad. forest irises watched you as you spread your fingers apart, letting his seed string from them both before promptly placing them on your tongue and sucking off his white essence. a moan fell from your lips at his taste, just as sweet as izuku was himself. if it had even been possible — which it was — izuku's face deepened further, but the lust in his eyes was so palpable now. you giggled as you pulled your fingers out your mouth with an audible 'pop!' . the pro hero's lips opened to say something, but you cut him off by promptly turning around and interlocking your hands with his bigger ones. midoriya gasped as you pushed him back down, your form towering over his, hair framing your face just perfectly as you looked down at him with that lustful glint in your eyes. shivers shocked through his spine and izuku felt his cock twitch, now pressed against your inner thigh as he felt your heat... you needed him just as much as he needed you. " don't worry, we're not done yet... what kind of gentleman would you be if you didn't let your partner cum too, right, deku? "
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motherlvr · 1 year
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3+1 times Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! reader
SPOILERS FOR ATSV
read part 2 here!
3 times Miles tried to confess, + 1 time he did.
Word count: 2.7k
Summary: Instead of the radioactive spider biting Miles, it bit you. You turned into Brooklyn's one and only Spider-woman, while Miles turned into the prowler. Miles also helps you with Spanish.
Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of cursing, most definitely not canon, kind of slow-burn?, jealousy, morally gray reader, he's lowkey toxic, no smut, heated make-out session, im feasting on crumbs (his 2 minutes of screen time), this is not ATSV plot heavy, the whole prowler x spidey thing isn't really until the end (enemies to lovers)
A/N: for the sake of the plot, the reader doesn't fluently speak spanish, but can speak some. this has been rotting in my drafts ever since ATSV came out
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1.
Miles glares at you two from across the room, predominantly at the guy you're laughing with. Surely he's not that fucking funny. Miles thinks as jealousy spreads within the pit of his stomach like a forest fire. However, you don't seem to notice his stare burning holes through the guy you're speaking to. The same cannot be said for him, however. Miles makes eye contact with him and sends him one glare that immediately makes the poor guy cower with fear away from you.
"I uh...gotta go." The guy squeaks out to you, his voice cracking with terror as he runs away. You raise an eyebrow as you watch him run away. What the hell was that? You think.
Miles appears next to you within the next moment and says, "Hey, ma." he gives you a slight smirk and wraps his arm around your shoulders. That smirk made you weak in your knees, you almost kissed him right then and there. You should be given an award for your amount of self-restraint.
"Hey Miles, qué pasa?" You greet him with a smile that reaches your eyes. Miles' smirk drops and he furrows his eyebrows at you as he inquires. "Who was that guy?" "He's just a friend, why?" You raise an eyebrow and question back. "Don't worry about it, you like him?" His words catch you off guard. You pause for a moment and turn your head to him with a judgmental stare as you shake his arm off you and say, "Miles. What is this? 20 questions?" You deadpan and continue, "He's not important, alright?" Seemingly satisfied with your response, he drops the subject.
After school, Miles and you head to his house. You've been struggling in Spanish class. Spanish grammar might actually be the death of me, you think. Since Miles excels in Spanish due to primarily being raised by his mother, you asked him to tutor you, which he surprisingly agreed to.
It doesn't hurt that you get to spend more time with Miles, either. Something about him never fails to send butterflies straight to your stomach, maybe it's his intense stare that makes you weak in your knees, his accent that somehow makes him ten times more attractive, or- You cut your thoughts off. You felt guilty for feeling this way about Miles. You know you shouldn't. These feelings you harbor would only cause more harm than good. After all, the people you love always seem to be in danger.
After a couple of hours of pure torture, (Spanish grammar) Miles started to speak, "Escúchame, mami. I-"
Loud, blaring police sirens cut off his sentence. Thanks, Brooklyn. Pretending to get a message from your mother, you glance at your phone's screen and look at Miles with an apologetic expression, "Shit, sorry Miles but I gotta go. My mother wants me home. She said it was urgent. But we're still on for tomorrow right?" Miles raises a skeptical eyebrow but ultimately says, "Yea. It's 'Ight, princesa. See you tomorrow" his accent lacing his words. You get up to kiss his cheek and wave him goodbye. As normal friends do, you tell yourself. Shit. You shake the thoughts away before your overthinking completely undoes your brain.
You wait until you're at least a couple blocks away from his house before you reveal the spider suit underneath your clothing and pull your mask down your face. You thwip your webs and swing away to investigate what crime was scheming tonight in Brooklyn. Leaving Miles alone in his room to regret not telling you.
2.
Honestly, you weren't paying attention to whatever Miles was saying. Instead, you were just focusing on how attractive you found his accent. You'd suffer through two more years of Spanish just to hear his voice. In fact, during most of these tutoring lessons with Miles, you weren't paying attention to the actual lesson. It doesn't help that he keeps staring at you with those eyes of his. But behind that cold exterior, you knew he had a soft spot for you. Even if he didn't outright admit it.
Miles' voice brought your attention back to the actual lesson, "Lo entiendes, princesa?" Miles asked you with a knowing smirk. You nodded your head immediately, trying to play it off. "Uhh, si." You said with a thumbs up, immediately regretting it. That was so nerdy. You shame yourself in your mind. You pretended to take notes, shamefully lowering your head down to your notebook.
While you were pretending to take notes, Miles broke the silence.
"So what's up with you and that guy from earlier?" "I told you, he's just a friend. Nothing is going on between us." Miles puts his hands up in his defense, "Alright, mami. It just didn't look like that with the way you were laughing at whatever he said. He's not Kevin Hart."
Way to completely ruin the mood. You dropped the pencil you were holding and stopped taking notes. Looking directly into his eyes, you said "Miles, I really don't know what your deal is." "You really wanna know what 'my deal is'? 'Ight. It's 'cause-"
Miles' phone beeps, interrupting him. He cursed in his mind, not being able to tell you how he felt yet again. He glances down at his screen. "Ay princesa," Miles spoke up, his words never failing to make your face go warm. His nicknames for you weren't new by any means, but they still made your heart flutter. He continued, "Uncle Aaron needs me, I gotta roll. He said it's an emergency. Don't think I'm trying to cut this short. You're still my girl, alright?" He started to leave when he turned around suddenly. He walked over to you and turned your head to him with his hand, kissing your forehead. "Hasta luego, mami." He left the room, leaving you alone in his room with only your thoughts swirling around your mind. You were sure you were about to have a heart attack. His girl? The kiss? Miles was acting oddly affectionate. And what's with him practically using the same excuse I used? It's not like he's the crime-fighting vigilante here. You rolled your eyes.
You didn't know what Miles and his uncle were so busy doing, but you had a feeling that it wasn't very morally right. That would explain how ambiguous he's been lately. More often than not, he's had to leave in the middle of tutoring to tend to whatever his Uncle needed him for. But you can't entirely blame him, you have secrets you've been hiding from him too.
You packed up your things and left his room. "Chao, Mrs. Morales. Thank you for letting me into your home!" You said to Miles' mother while leaving. "Of course, you're always welcome here." She replied to you with a warm smile. That woman was a true saint.
3.
If you had to spend any more time confined in a room alone with Miles and just your emotions, you were sure you'd fucking lose it. By losing it, I mean grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and kissing him senseless. But you were afraid. Afraid that he would take your heart right out of your chest to shatter it and then leave you alone to pick up the pieces. So, you came up with a little white lie to get out of tutoring today.
"Is it alright with you if I skip tutoring today? My mother is sick and I have to take care of her." The lie slipped off your tongue like butter.
"Nah that's cool." He shrugs. Huh. He let me off that easy? You were two seconds away from having the dreaded 'What are we?' conversation with him after last night, until someone's arms wrap around you from behind.
"Hey, beautiful." Your friend from the other day was back. And he clearly didn't see Miles right next to you. You cringe and awkwardly take his arms off of you and turn around, "Hey, Josh." "Are you free tonight?" Miles was watching this interaction with jealousy coursing through his veins. Did this douche seriously not see him right next to you? Right before you could even open your mouth to respond, Miles responds for you. "Hell no she isn't. Get the fuck out of here, man." Miles snaps at him. Your friend's head whipped to Miles so fast you were sure he'd get whiplash. "Oh shit." He stuttered, "Sorry, man. I didn't see you...I'll leave now." He ran away as fast as his feet could take him. Poor Josh.
You glared at Miles. "What the actual fuck was that, Miles? He was just asking me a question." "He was asking you out, idiot." Miles said right back to you. "So what if he was? Honestly. What's it to you? You've been acting so possessive. May I remind you that we are not together?" You snapped at him. "Maybe I want-" He started, but this time, he was the one cutting his sentence off. He couldn't find the words to tell you just yet.
The bell rings. You look at Miles, awaiting his response. When a few silent moments pass by, you finally say, "What? What is it you want?" For once in your friendship with Miles, he didn't have a response. You, he thought. "Y'know what Miles? Until you've come to your senses, just leave me be for now." He had no right to start acting like you were bound to him. You walked to your class without him. He cursed himself in his head.
You'd been ignoring him the whole day. Yet ever the petty, he hadn't messaged you at all.
Your phone pings. "You busy with Jake?" You read. It was from Miles. That petty fucker. Your face immediately drops. That's not even his name. You left him on read and turn off your phone. For someone who thinks he's heartless and nonchalant, he sure was acting possessive.
+1
Dusk approaches Brooklyn and you're out patrolling instead of thinking about Miles. That's all you've been doing lately, and you needed a distraction.
Unfortunately, Miles had the same idea. He was out taking missions Kingpin gave him.
As you were searching the streets of Brooklyn for crime, you sensed a presence. Ahead of you was a silhouette in a dimly lit alley, their back facing you. You hid behind the wall. Finally something interesting tonight! As you climb on the walls and get closer, you recognize the figure.
Oh, great. It's the Prowler.
This wasn't your first time meeting the Prowler. No, you've fought with him in the past. He's ruthless and a cold-blooded killer. He's efficient and excruciatingly fast. That's what makes him an imminent risk to be allowed to roam the streets freely.
As Spider-woman, it's your responsibility to keep the streets of Brooklyn crime-free. So, you follow him. As you're trailing behind him, crawling on the walls, you notice the people he's meeting with. It's an arms deal, you realize. As you crawl closer, you notice that they weren't regular arms. They were abnormally high-tech for these seemingly harmless criminals.
I'll just web up the couple of amateurs and then deal with the big guy Prowler, easy. Oh how wrong you were.
"Hey, boys! Nice toy you've got there." You said as you dropped your voice down an octave, disguising your voice. You jump down from your place on the wall and thwip your webs at the unsuspecting arms dealers, binding them to the wall. They were knocked unconscious.
You thwip'd your webs at the weapon and effectively took it away from them. You'd have to drop it by the police station later with a friendly note.
The Prowler lunged at you, his steel claws missing your face by an inch.
"Hey, man! That felt a little personal." You shouted, thankful to still have your face attached to your head. You used your webs to grab onto the Prowler and strike him directly on his mask. You started to run, with the Prowler tailing right behind you.
He had you cornered, but you weren't surrendering that easily. You positioned into a defensive stance, ready to defend yourself.
His mask was cracked a bit, causing his voice modulator to reveal his unfiltered voice. "Nowhere to run, spider."
Your heart dropped as your eyes widened through your mask. Not in fear, but in recognition. You could recognize that voice anywhere. That was the voice that sent shivers down your whole body, yet made you want to strangle him the next.
"...Miles?" The words came out more of a whisper. Your voice sputtered as you dropped your fake voice. You webbed the weapon to the wall, disregarding it. Turns out, he didn't need to reject you to shatter your heart into a million pieces.
His stance immediately faltered. He could recognize your voice out of a thousand others.
Prowler, or rather Miles, stood silent.
“Miles, take off that damn mask. I know it's you.” You took off your mask, and he opened his. His eyes were unreadable. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into Miles?" You sighed. You didn't recognize him anymore. You didn't know who he was. There was no way the Miles you knew had become this.
"Fuck, princesa. I didn't want you to get involved in this shit. You're the fucking spider?" You feel as if he was seeing you for the first time again. "I'm fucking Spider-woman, you dick. And I've been involved with this 'shit' ever since I got bit by a spider. Now explain this, whatever you've turned into!" You spurted out, pointing at his suit. "I got roped into business with Kingpin after my father died. Shit, I never meant for this to happen." He exclaimed.
"What, you think you're protecting me by not telling me? Bullshit." You say, throwing your hands up in the air. "I was protecting you. I was protecting you from Kingpin. Because I fucking love you. I meant it when I said you were my girl." He proclaimed.
When you thought this night couldn't get any wilder, it just did.
Alarms blared in the back of your mind, telling you to leave. Your brain is screaming at you to think about your moral obligation to stop the Prowler, no matter who he is. But your heart is telling you otherwise. You choose the latter.
"Fuck, Miles. Shut the hell up." You threw a web at his abdomen and pulled him towards you, efficiently shutting him up by connecting your lips to his. Sliding your hands onto his braids, you pulled him in closer. He immediately reciprocated and grinned into the kiss, setting his arms on your hips.
Turning into a heated make-out session, he backed you against the wall of the alley. You felt your legs giving out on you. Miles put his knee in between your legs, supporting you. He kissed you with passion. He's pinned for you for the longest time, and he finally has you. He wasn't going to give it up for anything. Unfortunately, you needed oxygen to live, so you pulled back. A string of saliva connected your lips as you parted.
He took away all the oxygen in your body, and apparently your moral compass as well, with only one kiss. Unable to open your eyes until a few moments after, you fluttered your eyes open. "I fucking love you too, Miles" You whispered against his lips. "Oh, really? Couldn't tell." He teased with a smirk, his lips seconds away from yours as he looked down at you. He held your gaze with longing in his eyes.
Muffled screams ruined the moment. Miles and you react immediately, putting your masks back on. You got your webs ready while Miles had his steel daggers out. Lowering your guards, you realize it was the couple of guys you webbed up and forgot. "Sorry, I'll go take care of them." You said as you rubbed the back of your head awkwardly. Miles stifled a laugh as he said, "That's alright, ma. You can make it up to me later." You heard the smugness in his voice as you swung away to the police station. You made sure to fulfill his request later that night.
---------
part 2!
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poppy-metal · 1 month
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thinking of art donaldson who has the most obvious crush on you but you're oblivious so you don't think about it when you tell him you can't go to the movies with him because you have a date that day. you think arts text back is a bit strange. the - Oh. Have fun :) seeming passive aggressive as hell but what reason would he have to feel that way? you think you're probably reading into it too much and decide to lighten the mood by texting him back-
now you don't have to worry about me scaring off potential love interests!!
he leaves you on read for the first time ever since knowing him. a pinch of worry niggles at you. you don't like the idea of upsetting him. did he think you were being a bad friend? flakey? you decide to send him another message -
you know asking a girl to see a scary movie with you can be kinda romantic. you should definitely ask someone to go with in my place <3 that way she can cling to you!
he does text back then.
Right. I'll keep that in mind.
are you mad at me?
dots appear. they dance on your screen. dissappear. reappear again.
Who's the guy?
you bite your lip. he dodged the question, which meant he probably was mad.
just some guy from one of my lectures! his name is craig!
Are you going to fuck him?
you stare at your phone screen. arts cursed in front of you before, but for a guy his age - the amount is minimal - even rarer over text. it sends a bolt of heat through you unexpectedly, a tingle you feel from your head to your toes. you hesitate on what to say - but you're comfortable with art, you're not in the business of lying to him, even if this isn't something you've talked with him about before.
honestly? probably. I don't see him as boyfriend material or anything, but he looks like fun!
you wonder if this is why art is mad. remembering he told you he grew up religious - maybe he still held some of those beliefs and was upset you were ditching him to have unwed sex or whatever.
the dots dance on your screen again for a time. your knee bounces as you wait for his reply, strangely anticipating it.
You're not looking for a boyfriend?
you think about that.
not at the moment!
his reply is quick then.
What are you looking for then?
you think about that too. your cheeks burn a little more - shifting in your seat. your friendship with art is newish - and while you're comfortable with him, there's still parts of yourself he doesn't know about you. like the part where you're kinda a sex fiend - though you wouldn't know it based on how you portray yourself. girlish and bubbly. you weren't ashamed of what you liked - and yet you paused before typing, fear of his judgement making you consider downplaying the truth.
but honesty was the best policy, and you stood by that embarrassment aside.
just sex, for now. I like having it. like, probably more than the normal amount....
art took so long to reply you physically had to stand up and pace around your room, 7 full laps before you came back down to check your texts.
So it's just scratching and itch, then. It could be anyone?
well.... obviously not just anyone. I do have standards!
They should be higher than that douchbag. and then, right under that. Fuck. I don't mean that in a slut shaming way. I just mean.
The dots again. You hold your breath.
I just mean you should only be allowing someone who kisses the fucking ground you walk on to give you what you need. You deserve more than some quickie on a shitty dormbed. You deserve to be worshipped from head to toe. Every inch of you.
you don't know how to reply to that, so you don't.
it's the first night you touch yourself to the thought of your new friend, though.
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charliemwrites · 10 months
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Part 4 of obsessed Johnny.
(Part 3 is here!)
(CW for nonconsensual ‘sort-of’ free use and edging; and again - dubious consent. Please stay safe!!)
Johnny’s favorite pastime is playing with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s being purposefully cruel, but no. He’s just… strangely preoccupied with your body.
He spends most nights cradling you between his legs, your back to his chest, arms wrapped around you. The two of you watch tv or movies, share popcorn - sometimes he watches you play on your Switch or reads over your shoulder.
It started out almost innocent (so to speak) in the beginning. He’s a fidgety guy, you’ve known that long before this whole mess, used to smile to yourself when you cleaned up straw wrappers and clean napkins folded into odd shapes.
So you barely notice when he starts fiddling with the hems of your sweatshirt and long shirts, picking at strings or running his thumb over knit textures. When he moved to your socks, that caught your attention but never went very far - just tugging at elastic lace or rolling/unrolling the tops along your thighs.
And then one night, as the two of you are watching the latest superhero movie, he hand creeps under your panties. You jolt the instant his fingers grazes your slit, hands twitching as you debate the dangers of redirecting him.
“Something wrong, Bonnie?” he asks against your ear, genuinely curious. “Is it too loud?”
It occurs to you that he genuinely might not realize what he’s doing - that reaching for you is just a thoughtless action like folding up bits of paper.
“Your hand is in my underwear,” you explain.
A pause. “Oh, so it is.” And to your surprise, he returns to hugging you.
It happens again though, this time you’re so preoccupied trying to beat a video game level that you almost don’t notice until his middle finger glides over your clit. You suck in a breath and die instantly.
“Damn,” he mutters. “Thought you had it that time. Gonna give it another go or you done for the night.”
Stuttering, you say you’ll give it another try, almost morbidly curious about how far he’ll go. Pretty far it turns out. He toys with your clit for 15 minutes before you clear your throat and shift, feeling unbearably wet and achy.
“Oh, shite. I did it again,” he mumbles, extracting his hand and settling it on the outside of your thigh. “No wonder you keep dying.”
The next time is during an intense tv show you’ve both gotten really into. It’s distracting from the weird reality you’ve found yourself in - but not weird enough that you can ignore Johnny tapping his finger nervously over your clit. You swear your heartbeat is starting to match that rhythm - tap, tap, tap. He doesn’t get the hint when you shift this time, eyes locked on the screen as he mutters to himself.
“No way is he secretly her brother. No fuckin’ way.”
You try to ignore it. Hope it’ll end in its own time when the tension dies down. It doesn’t. He lets the next episode load automatically, babbling to you about the crazy cliffhanger.
As it opens, his fingers travel down your slit to your entrance, find the slick there and play in it. Microthrusts against your leaking hole, just wetting his fingertip before dragging it out, up to your clit, three circles, then back down again.
It’s maddening but it’s not enough. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re surprised you don’t taste blood, thighs twitching with each jolt of pleasure coursing through you.
On and on it goes, slow and absent, maddening. Literally just playing with your pussy like a fidget toy. He’s not even fully hard against your lower back! Just the normal amount of mildly turned on that having you in his lap produces.
It’s driving you into a fucking spiral. So so sensitive, so close to the edge, but never enough. You just lay there trapped against him, dripping and desperate and determined to be quiet because you don’t know what else to do now. You can’t let yourself get off to this - but you also can’t find the words to remind him to stop.
When the episode - the finally - finally ends, he pulls his hand away, already gearing up to discuss theories for the next season with you. Instead, he’s cut off as you hiccup, near tears with being denied.
“What’s wrong, hen? I didn’t think it was that bad!” he says.
“You-you were…” you can’t get the words out, give up entirely. Time to see if he really is as devoted to pleasing you as he always swears.
You crawl out of his lap, flip onto your back, and yank him down by the hair. He makes a startled noise, eyes going huge, and then whimpers as his cheek presses into your absolutely soaked panties. Even that is a cruel but unintentional tease.
“Fix it,” you near sob.
“Of course, baby, of course,” he hurries to say, wriggling into a better position. “I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Got you all spun up, huh? Didn’t mean to. You’re just so soft and-”
You whine. “Soap, shut up and lick me!”
He moans, hips jerking hard into the mattress. “Yes, ma’am.”
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katebria97 · 8 months
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Ryomen Sukuna as a dad
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-While you are pregnant he is definitely more affectionate and soft towards you:
"Let me love you for once,stop being stubborn dammit"
-Very protective over the baby and you,wouldn't let anyone else but him touch you(not only while you are pregnant but in general): (will have his arm on your waist or below your belly glaring at anyone who looks your way)
-Surprisingly clingy,you'll literally have to pry his arms off of you and that's almost impossible to do most of the time
(will have his arms wrapped around you,once you try to move them,he replaces them back) "Can't get away from me darling,because 'm not leaving your side any time soon"
-Whenever he found out that you are pregnant he was really happy which wasn't like him,it's rare that he was that ecstatic about something,he definetley will want more children,I can see him having like a whole army of children
-he's less teasing than he would be than when you aren't pregnant,because he knows that you are sensitive because of your hormones,so he's gentle and just messes around with you once in awhile (he may or may not have gotten backhanded once or twice)
-would talk to your stomach like the baby can hear him
"Kick your moms ass for me yeah?" *smack* "ow what was that for?"
-I̶s̶ ̶m̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶h̶o̶r̶n̶y̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶g̶n̶a̶n̶t̶
-when you two cuddle he'll have his hands under your belly,lifting it up so your back isn't hurting as much,he wants the least amount of pain for you while you are going through this
-will cook and clean for you
-will give you baths and massages he wants to pamper you and make you feel less stressed/sore(also massages your stomach)
"Does it feel better?yeah? okay good"
-Will literally force you to relax,there isn't one time in your pregnancy that he wasn't not doing anything,he doesn't want you stressed out in the slightest
"sit.you aren't doing anything,especially where you could hurt yourself,I dont want you getting hurt,I love you too much for that"
-If anyone makes any comments towards you 'getting bigger' because of your pregnancy he'll want a little "chat" with them..
-will worship your body during and after pregnancy,he's very loving towards you,but only you
-Loves seeing you pregnant,he doesn't even act the way he normally would towards you,the pregnancy definitely changes the way he acts,he softened up towards you,a little more ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- this has been a draft because I was on break but let me know what you guys think of it I need feed back,so I know what to improve and details and if you guys want this to be a series(you can look back on the list and choose any character you'd like from the anime/game) I will make it one,have a good day/evening/night,eat and drink water,love you all<3
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darling-i-read-it · 1 year
Text
Burns
Charlie Swan x fem!reader, Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader 
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: age gap (for both men, both are legal but carlisle is like 223297493 years old so do with that what you’d like lol), burns (second and first degree), doctors office, me knowing too much about twilight 
Author’s Note: IM WRITING A PART 2 RN BUT WANTED TO SEE IF YOU GUYS LIKED THIS <3 I literally randomly had a burst of inspo to write this and i lowkey love it…
Summary: You’re a waitress at the local diner to pay off tuition in the summer. You have a small crush on the chief of police who comes in to get his coffee from you. You thought that was all it was until you met the resident doctor when you have a mishap and now you’re stuck between two incredibly charming men that both have a little crush on you. 
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
(not my gif)
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Forks, Washington was under a near constant cover of rain. You were aware of it when you woke up in the morning, prepared to see the dreary weather that greeted you through the window. You could smell the rain on the pavement before it came, see it in the clouds as they hovered above. You were always prepared for it, always ready for it. 
Today, the sun was out. Summer usually calls for something more temperate. You found that those days weren’t necessarily unwelcome, but never your favorite. Everyone went outside when it was sunny. You could see people you hadn’t seen in ages. You never made an effort to see them in the first place for a reason. There was an uncharacteristic amount of skin showing. It may only be mid 70s but everyone suddenly acted like the ocean water was a relief to their burning skin. 
You sweat easily, especially in the diner. The Lodge had little to no air conditioning and the sun brought people in droves. Everyone wanted a bite to eat. They all remembered the diner had milkshakes. It was never a great mix for a waitress. 
You turned the corner on your heel, giving a quaint smile to Cora, your coworker. She looked like she was going to melt away. 
“Do you think anyones gonna leave early today?” she asked quietly behind the counter. You shook your head. She had the coffee pot in her hand and was holding it tightly so it didn’t spill. You looked around the packed diner, laughter bubbling from sections where it normally was silent. You shook your head, giving her a sad look. 
“We’re in for one.” 
“I should’ve called out,” she muttered. “You should’ve called out. This place needs us.” You shook your head. 
“You’ve gotta put food on the table,” you reminded her. She had a kid who was going into middle school. You had met her when Cora brought her in, her headphones stuck in her ears and reading some trashy teen novel. 
“Always the voice of reason,” she muttered. “Plus, you gotta pay tuition.” 
“Don’t remind me.” 
You were going to college in Seattle but always worked the summers back in Forks. You loved the little town despite its insanity. You found that most of it was quiet, even on louder days. Plus, it was always easy to find a job back home. You were practically shoved the waitress apron when you returned this summer. You had been doing it since you graduated high school, always trying to find something to keep yourself occupied. You were coming upon your senior year in college and the extra money helped immensely. 
“Hey, your boyfriends here,” Cora teased. She pushed herself off the counter to refill someone’s coffee cup. You furrowed your brows in confusion even though you knew exactly who she meant. 
You watched as chief of police Charlie Swan walked through the doors with a clink of the bell above his head. He met your eyes and gave you an awkward half wave, which you returned slightly more enthusiastically. He walked up to the counter, squeezing between the people sitting there. Someone said hello to him and he gave them a nod in acknowledgment. 
“You guys are busy today huh?” he questioned, scoffing. 
“Just a bit,” you admitted. His presence never ceased to bring butterflies to your stomach. Maybe you were harboring a small/not so small crush on the sheriff but you tried your best not to show it. You assured Cora it was just something silly for you to feel as you passed through your work day. Still, her eyes lingered on yours as she went around the counter to greet someone else because she knew you were busy. “It’s the sun.” 
“Brings out all the loonies,” he said. 
“I imagine you’re busy out there too.” He was always scanning around to make sure no one was doing anything wrong. His eyes flicked from you to the people beside him, then back to you. 
“Taking my 15.” 
“Just to see lil ol me?” you teased. Even as the words left your mouth you felt self conscious of them. This time though, he gave a half smile. 
“You make the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he promised. You tried not to get flustered. 
“Well, it looks like you need a double today, Sheriff.” 
“Charlie, how many times do I have to tell you?” You rolled your eyes. He leaned against the diner counter even though there were no seats. You turned around, every other table lost in your mind. Cora would help you out until he left.
“Well Charlie, it might be too hot for a hot coffee. You could’ve gone to one of those fancy coffee shops,” you offered, grabbing a coffee pot. 
“Yeah, can you imagine me ordering there? I have a hard enough time with you.” 
“I think I get what you mean by now,” you joked. You poured him a cup and grabbed three sugars and two creams. “Anything else?” 
“You always this quick with your service?” he questioned, looking at the people down the line who hadn’t gotten their food. 
“I’m just the coffee girl with a pretty smile. I don’t control the food orders.” You handed him a stirring stick as he opened his sugar packets. “Plus, you’re the chief of police Charlie. I don’t wanna get arrested.” He chuckled, a real genuine laugh. 
“I think I’ll let you off for this one.” You smiled at your success. The laugh was guaranteed to be the highlight of your shift. 
“Thanks Charlie.” You turned back to the kitchen which was starting to call things out. “Anything else?”
“No ma’am.” He grabbed some cash out of his wallet. “Keep the change.” 
“You’re my favorite customer Charlie,” you joked at his more than generous tip of 100%. He did a little salute with his finger and raised the cup to you. 
“Go do your job otherwise you’re bound to get more angry customers than I am.” 
You nodded once and bowed out of the conversation gracefully. You grabbed the food from behind you and started to bring it out. Cora gave you a look as you passed her, the smile plastered on your face a clear tell of your conversation. 
“Peach cobbler,” you said to one of your regulars. She was a small old lady who always came in on Saturdays, at exactly the same time. You enjoyed talking with her and catching up on her life. She got the same thing each time and the consistency was something you appreciated. “Sorry it’s been slower today Miss. Heidi. The heat has the whole of Forks out!” She shook her head, brushing you off. 
“No worries at all,” she assured you. “It’s not like I’m not gonna come back.” You shared in her shaky laughter. She picked up her fork just as you were about to leave and pointed it at Charlie. “You making heart eyes at the chief over there sweetheart?” You flushed immediately. Maybe you weren’t so great at hiding it. 
“Maybe. But keep your mouth shut Heidi,” you whispered with a smile. She chuckled. Her eyes lingered on Charlie who was finishing his coffee already. He had started a conversation with the man beside him. Charlie seemed to know everyone in town. 
“Aren’t you a little young for him?” You rolled your eyes. 
“It’s perfectly constenting and legal,” you assured her. “I’m plenty older than his daughter if that’s what you’re gonna say.” 
“I was gonna mention.” Her eyes wrinkled at the edges, shaking her head. Her movements didn’t feel like she was disagreeing with you. More so that she was gossiping with a friend, just girls being girls. “He had his heart broken by her mother, you know. He’s a good man.” 
“Is that your consent Heidi? Because I don’t even know if he feels the same way.” Your voice was lighthearted. She grabbed your hand, her saggy skin feeling comforting. 
“I wouldn’t worry too much sweetheart.” You scrunched your face a little and shook off her words. You were still on the clock. 
“Enjoy your peach cobbler Heidi.” 
-
You brushed your hair out of your face. The sun had finally subsided for the evening, giving way for the clouds. You embraced their presence, appreciating the way that the cool air felt on your overworked skin. Cora was still hanging around after her shift, waiting for her husband to come pick her up. You sat on the back steps of The Lodge, watching the trees sway. 
“The air feels so crisp,” you muttered. 
“You say the weirdest things,” she grumbled, laughing. She was leaning against the building. “It’s the trees.” 
“I know.” You were going to leave right after work and finally drive back home but you needed a moment to sit and enjoy the day. It had been a long shift. Cora and you were officially trauma bonded. 
“How was the chief?” 
“Good,” you promised. “Sweet.”
“A guy can be sweet and catch criminals?” 
“He’s assertive,” you argued. When Cora laughed she did it with her whole chest. 
“Honey, you’re down bad.” You rolled your eyes and stood up. Cora’s eyes followed you as you did so, turning back to the door inside the diner. “You’re goin back into that hellhole?” 
“Forgot my phone,” you said. “Also, I am not. It’s a work crush. I’m entitled to one! Just like you like the produce guy!” 
“I do not like the produce guy. I think he’s hot. Big difference!” You rolled your eyes as you opened the door back inside. The heat hit you again, unpleasantly. You had to weave through the cooks to get back to the front. You couldn’t remember when you had put your phone down. You were making a phone call during your break. Maybe you had left it on hte steps outside after all? 
“Hey Jerry?!” you called to the cook in the back.
“What?!” 
“You seen my phone?” 
“No! All I’ve seen are burgers!” You rolled your eyes harder this time and dipped underneath the counter to see if you had put it with the sugars and stuff. You let out an annoyed groan when it wasn’t there. 
You turned too quick and ran right into the closing waitress. She was holding a hot pot of coffee and effectively spilled it all over you. You gasped involuntarily, the feeling of scorching coffee seeping through your clothes. The gasp turned into a seethe as you packed up. You could hear her speaking, the high pitched, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” reverberating off your eardrums. You had dropped coffee on yourself before. All you could think of was that you needed a towel and some cold water. 
You turned on a dime and walked back to the kitchen. You turned on the sink back there and fumbled your hand around for a towel to use. 
“Jerry, towel,” you mumbled, the burning skin now setting into a tingle. He turned his head around and saw you. He started to fumble around. You walked in front of him to grab the towel and just barely lost your balance, causing your hand to fly up onto the table. 
Right onto the stove. 
This time you yelped. The coffee was already forgotten as there was now more of an issue at hand. 
“Woah dollface!” Jerry exclaimed. He grabbed your wrist because you were just staring at your red hand. You had put your entire palm down. You looked up at him, tears staining your eyes from pain, and he brought you over to the sink. 
“Oh fuck,” you groaned as he put it under the cold water. It didn’t subside any pain, just added another sensation. “Jerry that hurts!” 
“Hey Y/N, I have your phone in my apron.” Cora came through the door to witness you breathing heavily next to the sink, Jerry the cook practically holding you down. 
“She burned her hand on the stove,” he explained. 
“She spilled coffee on me,” you blubbered childishly. You could feel all your body parts at once, like you were on fire. You had no brain power to say anything else. 
“Oh Jesus,” Cora muttered. She rushed forward, grabbing your wrist to look at it. “You gotta get this checked out honey.” You gave her a somber looking face. “I know, I know. I’ll take you. Where’s your car keys?” You reached in your apron with your non burnt hand. It was soaking wet from the coffee. 
“Is she okay?” the waitress asked, sticking her head through the window. 
“She burned her hand on the stove,” Jerry said. 
“She what?!” 
Cora put her hand on your back, leading you out the door. You took deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You were fine. You were gonna be fine. 
“I’ll be okay,” you whispered. “You have to g-”
“I’ll have Steven do it,” she said. Her husband. You gave her a look of pure thankfulness as she helped you into the passenger seat of her car. 
“I really don’t have to go to the hospital over this,” you tried to say. 
“I know you don’t. But I think it’s safer than waiting.” You put your head against your headrest. 
-
Cora dragged you by your free arm to the front desk. She was the one who gave your name and your information as you stood beside her, holding your hand. You looked like a mess, given the coffee all over you. You were sure this could all just be fixed by some water and ointment from the store but Cora insisted. 
She rambled on about how a family member hadn’t gone in for a burn and it ended up being more severe then they thought, damaging below the skin. Her words were not comforting. 
Eventually they called you back to be looked at. You sat on an exam table with a thin paper on top. A nurse had come in to check on you and give you something for your hand while you waited for the doctor. 
You were in a row of beds. Cora pulled the curtains aside to give you privacy. 
“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” you said. 
“They don't get to know all your business. HIPAA or whatever.” You squinted. 
“I don’t think-” 
“Ladies.” Carlisle Cullen stepped through the curtain at the open side. He was holding a clipboard, a charming smile plastered on his face. Your breath hitched at the sight of him. He was gorgeous. “Y/N, I hear you burned your hand.” You nodded. 
“And her chest,” Cora muttered. She must have noticed Carlisle’s looks as well. Or maybe she just noticed your reaction to him. You cleared your throat. 
“I had coffee spilled on me.” 
“No, you should check it out. It’s bad.” You gave a look. Carlisle’s smile remained, shaking his head. You had heard of him but never had a reason to come out and see him. You wouldn’t even call this a valid reason. 
“Sounds like an awful case of bad luck.” You nodded. “Can I take a look?” He sat on a spinny chair and pulled it towards you. You extended your hand to him. 
“I’m gonna go call Steven,” she said to you. You nodded. She patted your back, her eyes lingering on your doctor even as she left. Carlisle held your hand in his, gently looking it over. You looked down at him. 
“A stove did this?” 
“Yeah. It was dumb,” you promised. “I lost my balance looking for a rag for the coffee burn.” 
“And that’s okay?” You nodded. 
“I think. I mean, my hand feels way worse,” you assured him. 
“Your friend seems to think otherwise.” 
“Cora’s dramatic by nature.” He laughed gently. 
“Well the stove fought back.” He wheeled backwards towards the table beside your bed. “It looks like second degree burns on your hand. I’ll send you home with some ointment for it and you’ll wanna wrap it up so that you don’t get it caught on your clothes or anything.” You nodded. “I’ll wrap it for you first, show you how to do it.” 
“Thank you.” 
“Of course.” He stood up and fumbled in the desks drawer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check on the coffee burns?” He glanced back at you. You looked down at your shirt. It had mostly gotten your stomach. You could still feel pain there, probably driven by the fact you never got to clean it off. 
“If you think it’ll help?”
“Stomach burns are interesting just because of their placement. It’s harder to wrap them. I think it would be beneficial for me to make sure they’re only first degree, if anything.” You nodded. You would listen to him read the phone book. 
“Okay.” He walked back over. Before even touching your shirt he made eye contact with you. 
“Only if you’re comfortable. I can wait till your friend comes back if you want me to.” You shook your head. 
“I’m okay!” you promised. You cleared your throat and grabbed the hem of your shirt. You carefully lifted it up over your torso, holding it just above the wet spot. Carlisle’s eyes went down to your body. 
“You said the hand hurt more?”
“By far.” 
“Can I touch you?” Please. You cleared your throat again. 
“Sure.” He put an icy hand on your hip, lightly brushing your burn with his thumb. 
“How much does that hurt? Scale one to ten?” 
“Five.” He applied more pressure. 
“Now?” 
“Seven. Your hands are really cold, which could be worsening the effects,” you joked. He chuckled, his lips turning up a bit. 
“Sorry about that.” He backed up a bit. You put your shirt back down. “Those are first degree burns. It only hit in some spots. Should feel numb or touchy for a couple days. You can put the ointment there too but you shouldn’t have to wrap it up.”
“The hand needs it.”
“The hand needs it,” he agreed. He had put some stuff on the counter, which he now took in his hands. He squeezed something out a bottle and put a bit of it on his finger, taking your hand back in his. “Let me know if the pressure is too much.” 
You watched him, your free hands fingers curled under the bed you were sitting on. He gently covered your hand, using such a light touch that it was like he was barely there. 
“You’re good at this.” 
“It’s my job,” he said, smiling. “Are you from out of town? I don’t think I’ve had you in here before.” 
“Just lucky,” you quipped. “I go to college in Seattle too so I’m usually out there.” He nodded slowly. 
“Fancy.”
“The drive back is beautiful.” He nodded slowly. His hand lingered on yours as he examined his work. “So is this town.” 
“Do you work at the diner?”
“Yeah! That’s where I got this beauty.” He scooted back, grabbing the bandages.
“I think my son’s seen you there. He’s graduating high school in a year and likes his seclusion,” he explained. 
“Son?” you asked. 
“Edward.” 
“No, I’m just stunned you have a child. You look far too young,” you said, laughing incredibly. He grinned sheepishly. You tried not to think of him being married or the lack of ring on his finger. 
“He’s technically my foster son,” he described. 
“I see. Do you do it all on your own?” You winced. That was aggressive. “I don’t mean to pry.” “It’s alright,” he said, shaking his head, completely cool. “Yes, they’re all under my care. I haven’t found the right one quite yet. Plus, she’d have to take on more than a couple stragglers with me.” His eyes flicked up to yours. They met for a moment longer than they should have. You had to look away. 
“Sounds like a task.” 
“It’s definitely not for everyone.” He tightened your bandage. “There. I’ll send you home with some of this, it’ll be sent to wherever you get your prescriptions.” He stepped back from you. “Try to be careful around stoves next time.”
“Yes sir.” He gave you one more look, a kind hearted smile and then was on his way. You followed him until he was gone out of view. You were glad he hadn’t checked your pulse because you were sure it was beating out of your chest. Cora came around the corner. 
“He’s too old for you too,” she said. You laughed dryly, shaking your head. You could practically still feel his touch on your hand. So gentle. 
“You’ll learn to get used to it,” you teased her. She rolled her eyes. “Were you waiting out there the whole time?” 
“Wanted to give you and Doctor Dreamy some alone time.” 
“You’re such a wingwoman!” 
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the Sheriff.” 
Part 2
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r0se1111 · 6 days
Note
actually getting a physical reaction to reading your reader x ford fics so here's an idea i had, do with it what you want :) reader works at the shack and is close friends with stan (i just know that man flirts with everyone, including reader). when they meet ford, they immediately develop a massive crush, cause who wouldn't but ford reads the friendship they have with stan wrong and thinks he doesn't have a chance and gets jealous of their banter/flirting… brb twirling my hair
Your mind... thank you <3
Working at the Mystery Shack really isn't all that bad. You had quickly formed a friendship with the owner, an eccentric conman named Stan. Sure, the pay isn't the best and sure, Stan flirts with you an almost obnoxious amount, but you would be remiss to say you didn't find comfort and even joy in this little situation. Is it a bit pathetic to say your boss is your best friend? Maybe, but Stan's jokes meet your own sarcastic quips with perfect compatibility. So much so that quite a few people have assumed the two of you were an item. Normally this conclusion wouldn't bother you, after all you guys are pretty comfortable with each other. And it keeps any creepy tourists from hitting on you when Stan's arm makes its way around your shoulder and a fond "toots" leaves his lips.
Normally, this wouldn't bother you. But things haven't been... normal as of late. Stan, as it turns out, has a twin brother. Now, you have always been able to admit that Stan was attractive in his own rugged, girdle-wearing way. But this Ford guy? Tussled hair, broad shoulders hidden under layers of sweaters, and an achingly cute smile? Sorry Stan you try not to gape as Ford introduces himself to you, this guy is more my type.
Now the banter you normally find yourself looking to with Stan feels a bit awkward as you're painfully aware of his brother's presence. You so desperately want to yell at him "Hey! I'm actually super single and super not dating your brother and super into you!" But, being the mature (ish) adult you are, you choose to forgo the dramatic love confession and instead focus your efforts on evading Stan's ever-present touching and joking.
You squint critically at the sale tags Stan has instructed you to place on some old t-shirts in the gift shop. "Take 90% off? Geez Stan, why don't we just let them take 100% off, the poor tourists are paying too much for this place anyways."
"I can tell you what I do wanna take 100% off, and it's not the price of those shirts." Stan grins widely and his hip jostles you a few times. "Get it? It's- it's your shirt. That I wanna take 100% off."
You scoffed and hid your grin as you shoved away his nudges. You were about to retort with your own witty remark when you turned and came face to face with Ford. His face was flushed, and his widened eyes darted between you and Stan before zeroing in on where Stan had begun to tug at the hem of your shirt playfully. You stuttered and slapped your friend's teasing fingers from your clothing.
"Ford!" You could feel warmth seeping up your collar and onto your cheeks. God. Did he hear all of that?
"Y/N. Stan." He blinked at you both and you noticed his hands clench at his sides. "I see I've interrupted something... I should go."
Panic wells in your stomach and quickly floods into your throat, making you nearly mute as you flounder for something to say. Luckily, Stan speaks up before you could choke out some half-assed excuse as to why he should stay.
"Awh c'mon, you're missing all the fun. See how red she gets?" He curls his arm around your shoulder to reach around and poke your cheek in a familiar gesture for you two. This was your routine: banter, tease, someone gets flustered (normally you), tease about said flustering, and so on. How fun! However, any possible fun is overshadowed as you feel painfully aware of his this must look to the man standing in front of you.
Ford looks almost... hurt? Disappointed? Before that mystery emotion flashes into something much more defensive as he silently watches your exchange.
You grit your teeth and eye your friend. "Stan."
"What's the matter toots? Don't say I hurt your feelings." He tilts his head to look at you in faux-pleading. "Oh c'mon baby I really didn't mean to!" Stan's dramatic little performance is completed with a bat of his eyelashes and a pout of his lip that makes you audibly groan.
"Listen, I-"
"Well I should really-"
You and Ford interrupt each other in your attempts to escape this awkward situation. Finally, after one last glance at where Stan's arm has pressed into you, Ford gave a little tight smile and walked past you.
One he's out of earshot, you nearly flip Stan over in an attempt to dislodge yourself from him. "What the hell was that?"
The man blinks before quirking a crooked, unsure smile at you. "What? I can't mess around with my best pal?"
"Not in front of him!"
"Him?"
"Ford! Your brother!" You throw your hands up in an explosion of frustration before they meet pressed to your temples as you grumble.
Stan seems to be catching up with your crisis, although he still looks at you like you're a crazy person. "My brother. Ford." He stares at you for a moment before you see the wild mischief enter his eyes.
"Don't."
"You wanna bone old poindexter! You perv!" He cackles and elbows you with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "You gonna be my sister-in-law?"
You nearly trip over your own feet in an attempt to shut him up. He's my best friend. You remind yourself. People don't strangle their best friends. "Don't be so crude! Yes, I like him. But he probably thinks we're together!"
Stan's laughter cuts off as he all but wrinkles his nose at your words. "Why would he think that?"
Overwhelmed with your friend's obliviousness to his own nature, you sigh before walking past him with a pat to the shoulder that means we'll talk later. Right now you have a devastatingly handsome author to explain yourself to.
Luckily, Ford hadn't wandered too far after his self-imposed removal from the gift shop. He sat on the steps of the front porch, legs outstretched as he watched the sky as if he was deep in thought. You notice his hand gripping the splintered edge of the stair as you lower yourself to sit by his side.
"... sorry about that." You spread your fingers over your propped up knees in a placating gesture. "Stan can be... like that sometimes."
Ford had tucked his own knees up to balance his elbows on at your arrival, and his breath had hitched at your voice. He watched you with a sort of calm understanding, but something deeper and more intense seemed to simmer beneath the surface. "Ah well. The things we put up with for love, right?"
You nod, grateful for his understanding. Then the word he used hit you. Love. Love. It didn't even register what Ford meant at first, because of course you love Stanley. He's your best friend, and it's just a fact of life that you love him, and that he loves bugging the hell out of you. But you aren't sure Ford knows that you love him, but aren't in love with him.
You clear your throat and turn your next words around in your mouth a bit, tasting them before you carefully explain to Ford, "Right. I mean, Stan is like a brother to me. We're best friends. And normally his flirting act is pretty damn funny, but there are times when it can complicate things." You inhale and stretch your legs out as Ford had been doing when you came to see him. Opening yourself to him. "Like when there's a guy I'm into and I don't want him to think that I'm not totally single. And totally into him."
Glancing at Ford from the corner of your eye, you see he's staring at his intertwined fingers which had frozen in the midst of their fiddling. His expression reminded you of when you'd walk in on him working on some complicated passage of his journal, or figuring out what word would fit in the crossword puzzles that come in the Sunday morning papers he still gets. Like there's a problem in front of him, and he's trying to fix it.
His eyes light up and he turns to meet your stare. Eureka. "So- not Stan?"
"Not Stan."
"Then... who?"
Now it's your turn to stare at your hands. In your very best nonchalant, I'm-totally-chill-about-this voice, you reply, "You."
A quick exhale that makes you wonder if he'd been holding his breath, and Ford chuckles. Really, it's more like a giggle, but let's try not to embarrass the poor guy. He lets his knees drop down and he mirrors you in the open stretch of your legs. "It's you for me too."
It feels like little cartoon birds are pulling the edges of your mouth into a smile as raw, dreamy elation sparkles up your spine, colors your cheeks pink, and draws loop-de-loops in your chest.
You look at Ford and he's already watching you. That spark catches again like he's the one holding the lighter. The bubbling storm of his eyes had cleared to a beautiful sunny day, and the sun reflecting off of his cracked glasses combined with his smile almost blind you. You decide to test these clear waters. Scooting over a little, you place a hand on the porch between your two bodies.
You watch him inch his hand towards yours until your pinkies are overlapped. You would've thought the two of you had just kissed for hours with how out of breath you feel. You open your mouth to say something probably very suave and charming when a familiar trio of voices interrupts.
"O-M-G! Y/N and Great Uncle Ford? All my dreams have come true!"
"HA! So you DO wanna bone him! I called it!"
"I don't even want to know what that means..."
Turning over your shoulder you smile coyly at Mable, Stan, and Dipper, who for all their teasing and overlapping rambling, seemed over the moon about the newly confessed feelings between you and Ford.
Stan squeezed his way between the two of you, slinging an arm around each of your shoulders. "Guess this means you gotta stop flirting with me on the job, Y/N. I know, it's gonna be so hard but I believe in you." He nodded solemnly in your direction before turning to his brother and jostling him up to his shoulder. "And you! You dog, I can't believe you had it in you! Us Pines men are just too irresistible I guess."
The family breaks into their signature "Pines! Pines! Pines!" chant in celebration of Stan's sage advice and Ford's "success in the lady department" as Mabel had put it. And as you were sandwiched between your best friend, your dream guy, and the two coolest kids on earth, you laughed and joined in.
"Pines! Pines! Pines!"
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pasdasin · 2 months
Text
Wicked Game
wolverine x vampire!reader
an: can u guys tell im not working rn with the amount uploading! also currently working on ch 4! if you guys have any ideas feel free to send me stuff!! i <3 vampire!reader and wanna write more about her :3... also sorry if pacing is weird lol
ch 3
warnings: SMUT!!! fingering, erotic blood drinking, angst lol, prob like cussing lol, im sure there is more so just be warned in general, mdni lol
previous -- next
~~~~~
The proposition weighed heavily on your mind. A chance to return where it all started? You couldn’t stomach the thought. You’d have to ask Logan what he thought. He always knew what to say. You couldn’t dwell on it now, another task was at hand. You smoothed out your denim skirt for the millionth time and stared at your reflection. Nothing seemed appropriate enough. Nothing seemed right when it came to talking about your past. Two hundred and seventy-five years old and this was most nerve racking thing you’ve ever done.
talk in front of teenagers. 
Sighing you turned back to your closest when the door of your room slowly opened.
“y/n? Are you ready yet? My class is waiting” Storm entered your room. “Damn you look good! Honestly expected a full Bela Lugosi get up.”
“Very funny, but I am not a vampire.” You said, turning to her. 
“Okay yeah, and I don’t control the weather.” She snickered at you. She held out her hand and you grabbed it tightly, allowing yourself to be pulled through the halls of the mansion as the two of you giggled and talked friday night plans. 
The two of you reached her classroom and it seemed fuller than normal. You glanced around the room and noticed Logan standing near one of the walls closer to where you’d be presenting. You shot him a smile smile and he nodded back at you, causing your heart to race. You approached the desk at the front of the room and took a deep breath in. You could not only hear your heart pumping, but also every single person in that room. 
Turning around you smiled at everyone and sat sheepishly on the desk. You felt Logan’s eyes on you as you listened to Storm start her lecture. You glanced towards him and watched as he sent you a silent message.
You’ll be okay bub. I’m right here.
You turned back to the class and scanned the crowd. It seemed as though every single person was there, even though it was physically impossible. Your eyes zeroed in on Scott and Alex. Alex. Your mind wandered back to what Charles asked of you the previous night.
“I know you don’t do missions since the incident, but you could really benefit Alex.”
“I dedicated my life to medicine, and helping others. I cannot just leave that.”
“Just think about it okay? Its London afterall. Don’t think I don’t know about what the two of you did there”
You quickly glanced away and turned your full attention back to Storm. She was just about finished with her recap of the lesson plan. Her eyes met yours and she winked down at you. 
“Now that we have finished Dracula, I thought as a treat instead of a movie, we could hear about the real events from the person who inspired the book herself. This is y/n, your school nurse.” A small round of applause broke out as you stood up from the desk.
“Hi everyone! So yes I inspired Dracula, so please ask me any questions.” Immediately questions rang out towards you. Are you a vampire? How come you don’t sparkle? I thought vampires drink blood!
Typical questions that you usually got from new students that visited your office. You quickly answered them without even thinking about it. Alex raised his hand jokingly before asking you the question you dreaded the most.
“How exactly did you inspire the book?” You paused, silently remembering the events of the night. You felt a knot in your throat before you began.
“In 1895, I met Bram Stoker in a pub. He was strange but endearing. A flirt really, and I knew I was done for. In 1896 I confessed to him my mutation and how at that point I was twenty-five for fifty years at that point. He didn’t believe me of course and when I showed him my true nature, the book was born.” You paused, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “The dedication was for me, and one of the brides had my name at the time and my description. I left Ireland and headed for London after the town found out about it. That’s actually where I met Logan.” 
The rest of the class period was full of laughter and more questions about your life in general, but you easily avoided those. As your presentation ended, you thanked Storm for the chance she gave you and promised to get drinks in the future. She walked away from you as Logan approached, wrapping his arm around your waist. 
“Good job bub. I knew you could do it.” You pushed his arm jokingly as the two of you started to walk out of the room, as Alex walked up to the two of you. Logan’s grip on your waist tightened.
“To my ever lasting beauty, an ageless angel, my queen of the dark. A book for your life. Wow you really made an impression on this dude. I didn’t realize you only dated what? Tall, dark and handsome. I’ll dye my hair ya know”
“Watch it Alex” Logan muttered, his claws starting to breach his knuckles.
“Woah big guy, I am just teasin. Anyways, y/n I heard the professor talked to you about Europe. What did ya think?” You made a face as you heard Logan’s blood race faster.
“I’m not too sure yet. I am still thinking about everything.” He nodded at your words before wishing you well and ignoring Logan. The two of you watched him walk away. 
“What the hell is he talking about?” Logan looked down at you, his face mixing into anger and confusion. 
“Lets go to my room okay?”
___
“What the hell do you mean a mission to London? And with him!” Logan snarled at you. You stared him down, not afraid of what he would do to you. 
“Calm down Logan! Its not a big deal I haven’t even decided yet!”
“Yeah I’m deciding for you. NO” He paced the left side of the bed as he muttered to himself.
“You don’t control me! I am my own person and I can’t die! Why don’t you trust me?” You felt your fangs push downwards in anger. If you weren’t careful you weren’t sure what would happen. 
“I don’t trust him. You won’t go and thats final.” His claws started to extend as he turned towards you. Fuck it.
The two of you lunged at each other and embraced as a tangle of limbs. Your lips crashed onto every piece of skin it met before you finally met his lips. He held you close to his chest and he messily made out with you, somehow managing to rip off your shirt, leaving in just the skirt and bra. His breath reeked of alcohol and his cologne filled your nose. The tobacco residue from an earlier cigar danced on his tongue as you deepened the kiss. You turned to straddle his lap, you pushed him down on the bed and, without thinking, you leaned down and sunk your fangs into his neck.
The warmth of his blood entered your mouth and the taste was euphoric. You continued your frenzy as you started to grind down on his growing erection. He groaned and panted as you nuzzled deeper into his vein. Your hot breath created a layer of pleasure to the holes in his neck and you pushed down harder on his clothed cock. 
“Please, fuck, don’t stop.” He choked out, moaning the last word. You didn’t think you could if you even wanted too. The taste of his blood made you whine in his ears as you picked up the pace of your hips, desperate for friction. His hand snaked down to your pussy, fingers slipping into your underwear and onto your clit. Your fangs sunk in deeper as he rubbed circles. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” He picked up the pace making you squeal from pleasure.
“Pl-ee-se-” You couldn’t think. The friction, his fingers, his blood. Without warning, you came hard on his fingers, allowing yourself to get lost in the heat of the moment.
Eyes half lidded you removed your fang from his neck and you looked down at the mess created. Blood stained the sheets, pillows, his shirt, and most likely everything else on the bed. Your mouth and neck was covered in a sheer layer of his blood. 
You snapped back to reality and realized what you had done. 
“Logan I’m- I can’t. I have to go.” Quickly you threw on a random shirt and left as quickly as you came, leaving Logan in the mess.
His neck already healing, his lifted his pants to stare at the mess left. Cuming in his pants was so middle school, but it wouldn’t be the first time this happened. Before being forced into the weapon x program, you fed on him regularly. Back then, your insatiable bloodlust wasn’t controlled, and he loved it. 
Trapped in the trance of euphoria, he didn’t realize you had gone. Slowly succumbing to sleep, Logan wouldn’t realize until the morning that you had gone. He ran through the mansion praying you’d still be in the confines of the walls. It was too late when he finally reached you. 
Watching as you left with Alex Summers to a mission to Europe. 
~~~~~
tag list: @captain039 @twinky-wink @fuckmachine42069 @honeybeedrabble
an: omg the drama!! also thank yall so much for ur support :3
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ambrosiagoldfish · 4 months
Note
hi! can i request headcanons of Adam x Male Angel! Reader who is sweet, kind and never curses? preferly sfw and nsfw but if u don't write smut for Male Reader, that's fine!
hope u have a Nice day <3
Adam x Kind Angel Reader HC’s
Warnings: General Adam TW’s, NSFW in latter half of post, He/Him pronouns with Male Genitalia. Slight Degradation/dirty talk. Fluff + Smut
Request Box: Open
Word Count: 820
A/n: thank you so much for the request! I had a lot of fun with this one! I did make it on the shorter side but that’s only because it’s quite difficult to make Headcanon’s 1000+ words without other characters but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Also I decided to make this little header thing for fics! I’ve seen a few others do it and the GIF’s I normally use are becoming a hassle to find. Let me know if you guys like it!
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SFW
Oh boy, this relationship really is a match that could only be made in heaven. No one would have expected Adam to date a man who is the complete opposite of him. If anything, people expected someone like him or even Lute!! But you? They never could have predicted that.
But what can you do, opposites do attract.
You’re always being so kind to him, telling him he looks handsome, helping him with any and all work he might have to do, and on top of it you bring him gifts and trinkets! Not to mention all the delicious treats you get him that are almost as sweet as you.
And to be honest, this really messes with Adam, cause you’re literally so sweet and thoughtful but he doesn’t have anything to give you in return besides sex. At least that’s what he thinks but in reality he gives you so much more than he gives himself credit for.
He plays you songs on the guitar, takes you out to fancy restaurants, and over all treats you with love and affection than any other has. But even if none of that was true, you don’t do anything and everything for him because you want something in return. You love Adam completely unconditionally.
The no cursing thing is something that genuinely gets on his nerves. Cause like, he could never. This man has the mouth of a sailor and the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. Which is one of the traits you love about him, that he says what he wants. But also you’re just like “Sir, this is not what The Father intended-“
“Neither was putting my dick in another guys ass but look, I’m still here bitch!”
And it especially bugs Adam, if instead of cursing, you replace swears with other words. Like the other day you stubbed your toe when landing on ground and Adam had fully expected for you to do what he does, which is scream the loudest swear and be pissed off at everyone for 20 minutes. But instead….
“OW Fudging chocolate chip-“
“JUST SAY FUCK”
So, ever since that day, Adam has sworn to one day take your ‘cursing virginity’, at least that’s what he calls it. And he try’s so hard to do so, which is a slight bit of trouble cause he doesn’t want to like, be a complete douche to you.
So until he figures out a way to get you to curse, he’s pretty stumped at the moment. But still, he absolutely adores you.
NSFW
Oh Boy x2
Everything I said previously still stands if not double the amount. This man wants to do the👏Most👏Unholiest👏Things👏To👏You👏
Loves to see your kind and sweet personality slowly crumble because of his cock.
‘Who knew you could be such a slut?’
He loves that your personality carries over during sex, you give him everything you’ve got and then some. You want to do your best for him after all.
Speaking of which, if you worship him in any way that man is cumming IMMEDIATELY. He really just wants to feel like he’s above everyone else, and Surprise surprise, he has a praise and you being the, oh so thoughtful person you are, you make sure to completely indulge that aspect of him.
You babble so much about how good his cock feels hitting your prostate over and over again. How well he’s making you feel like like the Good Boy he is. It really gets it him going.
Remember how I said he’s trying to make you lose your ‘Cursing Virginity’? Yeah well, this is how. He is SO determined to get you to spill out just one swear while he goes to town on you. Is it the most holy thing he should do? No. But how could he not fuck your brains out till you break your own moral code?
He tries so hard too. He has yet to get you there but he has come close. When he had you in a mating press, legs over his shoulders, your ankle’s lightly hitting the base of his wings with each thrust.. You couldn’t stop begging for him to cum inside you as you came for the Xth time in a row.
“Please Adam! P-Please! Fu~“ you cut yourself off with a hand to your mouth.
Adam looked at you with his signature grin, his hips not stopping their movements to pump himself in and out of you. “Was you about to say something babe?”
You held your hand against your mouth shaking your head ‘no’ clearly trying to make it seem like you weren’t about to drop the f bomb.
“Mhm, right~ let’s see if I can pry some other ‘naughty’ fuxkin’ words out of ya!” He laughs a wicked laugh as he switches the position so that he’s somehow even more atop of you. Leaving you a completely, moaning, helpless mess for him to dominate >:)
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queen-of-the-avengers · 2 months
Text
500
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.2k
Warnings: angst
Summary: You're given a gift that will allow you to help others. You try to use this gift for good and you never make anyone feel like a charity case. However, when you meet Bucky Barnes, you know you have to do something or he'll live the rest of his life in pain.
Squares Filled: graveyard (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3
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The thing you love most about New York is not everywhere is like the city. If you travel far enough outside of it, it turns into any normal town like any other state has. You’re on your way to visit your parents at the New York State Veterans Cemetery since your father was a soldier in World War II. Your mother requested to be buried alongside him even though she was never in the military, and they let her.
It’s a four-hour drive from the city where you live, so you take this moment to yourself and think about your purpose on Earth. About once a month, you get like this because you’re not normal. You were born with the ability to see people’s pain above their heads in numbers ranging from zero to sixty. One is not in any pain at all and sixty is the worst pain a person can be in.
You’ve been to plenty of hospitals around New York, so you’ve seen people who are in a tremendous amount of pain, but no one has ever been above sixty. You’ve been on this Earth for thirty-three years and never have you seen someone with a sixty-one above their head. Why were you born with this ability? You’re not sure but you know you can do a whole lot of good with it. 
It’s why you became a licensed therapist as well as a social worker. You take on jobs that will help as many people as you can. While you can’t heal anyone physically like a nurse or a doctor, you can help with their emotional and mental trauma which is where most of the pain lies. You’re the only person without a number above your head but it’s likely your powers don’t work on you.
You look at the taxi driver and see the number twenty-five above his head. He’s seen some stuff in his life, that’s for sure. He must be a taxi driver to get away from it all, to just coast through life without having to deal with a lot of stress. You’re guessing but it’s not like you’re going to ask the man what kind of trauma he’s been through in his life.
He drops you off at the cemetery and drives away once you’ve paid him. You like to spend hours with your parents and tell them all that you’ve seen and the people you helped, and that usually takes a few hours at the least. You clutch your mother’s favorite flowers and walk into the cemetery, keeping your head down out of respect.
You sit down right across from their graves and break the bouquet into two so both your parent can have flowers.
“I helped a teenager last week escape his abusive parents,” you begin. “They didn’t care about him and often used him as an outlet for their rage. His pain was at a thirty. Thirty. At age fifteen. I went to go visit him in his new home and his pain was at a twenty-seven. He’s healing and I’d like to think I had something to do with it. I wish you guys were here to see this. It’s amazing to see someone’s number go down because of something I did.”
You look up and scan the area when you notice a man standing by himself near one of the graves. The wind is knocked out of your lungs and you have to brace yourself on the ground so you don’t fall over. The man isn’t saying anything to the grave, just standing over it. Above his head is a whopping five hundred. If you saw someone with an eighty, you’d be floored. The fact that this man has a five hundred over his head… how is he still alive? It’s clearly not physical wounds that hurt him.
Who is this man? Even the most depressed people never go above sixty. You once got involved with a woman who was passed around in the sex trafficking ring and she didn’t even go above sixty. This man has five hundred.
Five hundred.
He says something to the grave before leaving, and you’re too shocked to get up and follow him. What would you even say to him? He had to have been broken down to the very last piece only to be put back together. Over and over again. That’s probably why he’s at five hundred. You don’t want him to feel like a charity case but you have to know that man. To think he’s walking around in such profound pain brings you pain.
“Mama, I think I found someone who might need my help. I’ll let you know how it goes next week.”
Since the cemetery is four hours away from the city, you’re hoping that he is from around here. You spend the next several days walking around Central Park just watching for that five hundred to show up again. You know exactly who the man was. You got a glimpse of his face as he was leaving the cemetery, and you knew he’d never leave New York. This is his home.
You know who he is and after some research on him, you know why he has a five hundred above his head. The following Saturday, you’re walking around Central Park in hopes of seeing this man again. You’d like to think because he has a five hundred, he has his humanity back. He’s feeling the guilt of everything he’s done so you know he isn’t dangerous.
Two women job past you laughing at what one of them said, and you notice how one of the women has a two above her head while the other has a fifteen. Maybe the fifteen did something her friend doesn’t know about and the guilt is starting to eat her alive. A young couple is sitting on the grass with a picnic between them, and both of them only have a five above their head. They must be in love. An elderly couple walks past them with both of them having a forty above their heads. Guess love doesn’t always work out for people in the end.
Central Park gets around six thousand daily visitors, and none of them have a number above sixty. You’ve traveled across the country for your job and non one has ever surpassed sixty. Not until him. You walk further into the park where a cluster of benches are, and you stop when you see that thick five hundred number again.
There he is. Sitting all alone.
Now’s your chance. You walk up to him who barely acknowledges your presence.
“May I sit here?”
He looks up and sees the book in your hands thinking you’re going to mind your business and read silently. He doesn’t say anything but nods so you sit across from him and open your book. You pretend like you’re reading it when really, you’re looking at him from over the top of your book. He has gloves on his hands and it’s not wintertime yet.
There’s a reason why he is wearing gloves.
“My name is Y/N. What’s yours?” you ask gently.
“Bucky.”
“That’s an interesting name. Is it short for something?”
“My middle name is Buchanan. My friends call me Bucky.”
“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” You go back to reading only to put the book down several minutes later. “Do you live around here? Or are you visiting someone?”
“No, not visiting someone.”
He’s clearly not into the conversation but you’re not going to give up. He’s not another project. You’re genuinely interested in getting to know him. Sure, his number enticed you to want to talk to him but you’re going to treat him like you would anyone else. It’s going to take a lot more than one conversation for him to open up to you.
The next day, you find him sitting in the same spot with the same five hundred above his head. You walk over to him and don’t ask to sit down, you just do. He lifts his head and notices the book first before looking into your eyes.
“Hi, Bucky. Do you mind if I sit here again?”
“No,” he shakes his head.
Today, you let him get used to your company. You don’t say anything to him except for when you part ways at the end of the day. You want him to be comfortable around you otherwise, he won’t talk to you. Every day after that, you keep sitting across from him reading the same book, allowing him to feel comfortable around you.
“So, what’s your book about?” he asks on the fourth day of sitting across from him.
“It’s called The Maze Runner. I know, it’s for an audience a bit younger than me, but I love the movies. It’s about a young man who wakes up with no memory of who he is and is stuck with a group of boys who also have no memory of who they are. They’re stuck in this maze-like area and they have to try and figure their way out of it that no one has ever survived. There are three movies but there are five books.”
“Sounds interesting. I’ll have to read it.”
“Here,” you close your book and hand it over to him, “take this.”
“No, that’s yours.”
“This is my fifth time reading the series.”
“I can’t just take your book.”
“Then consider it a loan. Give it back when you’re done. Plus, it’ll give me an excuse to come and talk to you again.”
Bucky smiles for the first time since you’ve met him, and God, what a beautiful smile it is.
“Thank you.”
“Look, I have to get going, but here is my number.” You write down your number on a spare piece of paper and hand it over. “If you ever want another good book recommendation or the second book in the series, give me a call. Or, you know, if you just want to talk.”
“Okay,” he nods.
You don’t have to look back to know he’s watching you walk away. The next time you see him is a couple of days later. He hasn’t used your number which is fine because you don’t want to rush anything with him.
“Did you finish it?” you ask and sit across from him.
“Yeah, I did. It’s really good.”
“I brought the second one just in case.”
You two exchange the books and he smiles at you.
“Thank you. Would you like to go on a walk with me? Just around Central Park.”
“Sure.”
A walk around the park usually takes two hours if you’re leisurely enough about it, and there is no rush to go anywhere else. You want to ask Bucky a million things about his life and where he came from but you don’t pry into his life. You can get that information online if you want to, but you want this relationship to grow naturally.
Though, you’re not sure you understand why someone like him can be this sad about who he is.
“So, this might be a weird question but how do you feel?”
“Why is that a weird question? I’m fine.”
“It’s just… you seem so sad sometimes.”
“Honestly? There’s not a whole lot to be happy about these days.”
“You’re alive, right? That’s a pretty damn good day to me.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes, I wish I wasn’t.”
“Well, if you weren't, I wouldn’t have met you. I think you’re a great guy.”
“That’s because you don’t know who I am. If you did, you’d be smart to run,” he sighs.
“I know who you are. I know about the Winter Soldier. I lived in DC when everything happened with Steve.” He looks at you and uncertainty swims in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’ve read about what you have done. Hell, I’ve seen it, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“It doesn’t?” he asks with a thick voice filled with emotion.
“Come on, there are a lot of people worse than you like child molesters and rapists. On that spectrum, you’re not so bad. What makes a person bad is the fact that they know what they’re doing is wrong and still continue to do it. When someone wakes up and stops doing what made them bad, that’s not being bad. When someone is manipulated into doing bad things but doesn’t do those things anymore, that’s not being bad. I’m sorry, am I making any sense?” you chuckle.
“Yeah, you are,” he chuckles back. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for the walk but I need to go now. I have to get to work. Can I take you out? You know, a place that’s not Central Park? I can show you my favorite bookstore with books like The Maze Runner.”
“I’ll text you.”
“Great. I look forward to it.”
You start to walk away from him knowing he is watching you walk off. When you get to the busy street, you look back and notice something that brings a bright smile to your face. That five hundred above his head? It’s now at four hundred and ninety-nine.
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