#police chief of forks

[little-diable]

Stay for a while - Charlie Swan (smut)

It's been a while, I missed Charlie, so @deathofpeaceofmind threw this idea my way, and I rolled with it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated!! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is new to Forks, on her first day she crosses paths with the handsome Chief that instantly catches her attention. How convenient that they meet around the same time Charlie needs a date to his daughter's wedding.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, lots of fluff

Pairing: Charlie Swan x fem!reader (2.8k words)

With her eyes focused on the road ahead, (y/n) kept humming to the song blasting from the radio, allowing the sound to fill her car. Even though her phone had stopped working a while ago, no longer able to connect with the endless-seeming forest surrounding her, she already felt awfully comfortable in her new home, excited about her new life in Forks. 

Perhaps it was the fault of being so distracted by the pretty town she was driving through, perhaps it was the fault of her giddy self, unable to concentrate on anything in particular. Whatever it was, it didn’t help (y/n) find her new workplace, the diner she was supposed to work at, hoping to find her new home in this town she had never set foot in before. 

With a sigh leaving (y/n), she parked her car in front of the police station, knowing they’d be able to guide her to find the diner. Her soft steps brought her closer to the building, walking up the stairs with a small smile glued to her lips. And even though she tried to keep her eyes focused ahead, (y/n) found herself bumping into something, or rather someone. 

A pair of strong arms found their way around her waist, keeping (y/n) from losing her balance. Her eyes found a pair of dark ones, a colour so rich they told a story of longing, struggles, and yet a softness she was a stranger to. 

“I am so sorry.” Softly (y/n) spoke the words, smiling at the man who had caught her. Chief Charlie Swan, a face she had seen on TV now and then, giving interviews about accidents that have happened in the area. (Y/n) felt a strange kind of warmth flush through her since she had always found him handsome, a face she’d think of when her thoughts got a chance to wander.

“That’s alright, don’t you worry. Can I help you, darling?” His voice shot shudders down her spine, momentarily having to avert her gaze to collect herself, unable to stop her smile from growing. The use of the nickname almost left her choking, unable to part from the man she already felt weirdly connected to. 

“Uhm, yeah actually. I was trying to find The Lodge?” With the chief now standing a few feet away from her, she got the chance to properly study him, his moustache gracing his features, and that almost cheeky smile that gave the man an even friendlier demeanour. There was something about Charlie Swan she hadn’t ever seen in another man, something she couldn’t put her finger on, yet it was something that drew her to him like two magnets made to find one another. 

“I’m about to drive there, if you want to I can take you with me, or you can follow my car with yours.” 

……

“Morning, Charlie.” A soft smile tugged on her lips as she watched the chief step into the diner, taking off his hat to properly greet (y/n). It was her third week of working at the diner, slowly adjusting to her new surroundings, to the friendly town that had instantly taken her in with open arms, and to the friendliness of a certain chief who only seemed to treat her this warmly. 

“Morning, sweetheart. How are you?” He sat down at the bar, staring at her with those eyes she found herself longing for every single morning, counting the minutes till he’d step into the diner. 

“I’m alright, very much looking forward to my first free weekend.” Her words drew a chuckle from Charlie, who was intently watching her pour him a cup of coffee. She loved these mornings with him around, with only a handful of customers filling the diner. (Y/n) found herself sharing conversations about her old home, her hobbies, and her dreams and longings with Charlie. 

“Do you have anything planned?” He took a sip of his black coffee, eyes glued to her features, not daring to look away for even just a moment. There was something unfamiliar binding these two together, something both of them felt, yet struggled to voice out, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. 

“I wanted to drive down to First Beach, I miss the ocean.” (Y/n)’s soft chuckles drew some more from Charlie. Even though her coworkers had told her that they had never seen Charlie this relaxed and happy before, (y/n) tried not to overthink their back and forth, not wanting to dig her own grave in the new town she would live in for a while. 

“I’m off duty on Saturday, I can come with you, if you want, show you around the area and introduce you to some friends.” Slowly she crossed her arms in front of her chest, unable to bite down her teasing grin.

“Does that mean you think of me as some kind of loner who has no friends of her own?” And with another heartily chuckle bubbling out of Chalie, he shook his head, murmuring something under his breath (y/n) couldn’t pick up on. 

……

“How long have they been together?” (Y/n) was walking next to Charlie, arms wrapped around herself to try and shield herself from the cold wind. The waves were rolling ashore, wrapping the two in its icy yet gentle embrace. 

“Not for long, but I fear this is something that will endure every struggle.” She watched a frown tug on Charlie’s features as he told her about his daughter’s upcoming wedding, clearly struggling with watching her grow up, turning from her dad to marry a man her father wasn’t the biggest fan of.

“Well, if you need extra moral support, I’ll gladly join you.” Charlie’s eyes found (y/n)’s, shooting her a soft smile with his arm slowly finding its way around her middle, pulling her to his side. Without overthinking what he was doing, Charlie pressed a kiss to her hairline, trying not to pay his racing heartbeat any attention. 

“That’d be very sweet of you, but I’m sure you have better things to do.” She moved away from him, not far enough to escape his embrace, yet enough to get a good look at his handsome face, unable to read the expression tugging on his features. 

“Better things? It’s a wedding, Charlie, what better things are there?” Both laughed in unison, eyes holding contact for a few more moments. He cleared his throat, looking away from (y/n) before they could give in to the pull that seemed to guide them. She kept close, her hand finding his big warm one to interlace their fingers. “I’ll make sure to keep you from murdering Edward, we’ll have fun, promise.” 

……

“Let’s go for some shots before I force you to dance with me.” (Y/n) had her fingers intertwined with Charlie’s, pulling him through the crowd with her eyes set on their table, ready to sit down for a few. But before they could even get near their table, they were stopped by Bella’s call for her dad, forcing the two of them to a halt.

“Bells, this is (y/n).” So far (y/n) hadn’t gotten the chance to speak to Bella, not wanting to disturb Charlie and Bella’s moments together. She had met a few of the Cullen’s, and even Renée, instantly befriending the rather giddy woman. And yet, as much as she had tried to focus on the people Charlie had introduced her to, she could barely focus on them, eyes drawn to Charlie’s frame at every given moment. 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Bella. You look absolutely stunning.” The girl shook (y/n)’s hand as her eyes kept flickering between her dad and (y/n), trying to figure out the relationship between the two. But before she could interrupt the somewhat awkward atmosphere now wrapping itself around the three, her name was called by Edward, stealing his bride away with a soft smile.

“Well, that was something. Shots?” Charlie’s raspy chuckles left (y/n) giggling, eyes not wanting to leave his relaxed features just yet. The dark suit he wore fit perfectly, making him appear even taller, paired with those dark eyes of his and the moustache she desperately wanted to feel scratching her skin. Charlie had a special kind of grasp on her body and soul, keeping (y/n) close without realising what he was doing to her.

“I guess she didn’t expect me to turn up with a woman, I only told her I’d bring a friend.” Her eyes grew a tad bit wider, tongue kissing her teeth as she pondered over his words. The alcohol flushing through her veins seemed to spur her on, guiding her towards Charlie with her arms finding their way around his neck.

“Did you just friendzone me, Chief Swan?” She was standing close, and could almost hear the uneven beat of Charlie’s heart, enjoying the way he was staring down at her, hands firmly placed on her waist. For a second, she debated kissing him, breaking through the wall he had built around himself for the past years, needing to protect his fragile heart.

“I doubt friends think about one another the way I think about you, sweetheart.” His words almost made her choke on her breath, wide eyes staring up at him as his thumb found her lower lip, slowly stroking the soft skin. Heat flushed through her, a fire so strong nothing could tame it, set on burning her to the ground. Silently she hoped that he’d close the gap between them, lips meeting hers in a slow kiss, but Charlie seemed to have other ideas, taking a step away from her. 

“Seems like Bella and Edward are about to leave, let’s say goodbye.”

……

If (y/n) had known that she’d find herself pressed against Charlie’s car about an hour after saying goodbye to the newlyweds, she would have died in anticipation, unable to hold back her excitement. But now, as Charlie kissed her deeply, hands holding her thighs, forcing her further against his car, her thoughts were all over the place.

His name rumbled through her as his lips kissed their way down her throat, moustache scratching her soft skin just the way she had hoped it eventually would. Her gasps left her, rumbling through the quiet night. Both were heavily panting, riled up by their unfamiliar touches, not daring to let go of one another.

“We should move this inside before my neighbour gets a heart attack when she sees me fucking you out here.” Charlie’s words left (y/n) gasping, not expecting to hear foul words like these rolling off his tongue. A squeal tore through her as he squeezed her thighs, pulling her in for another heated kiss. For a few more seconds they kept making out, only pulling away from one another as their lungs ached for some more air, “Come.”

With his hand reaching out for (y/n) to take, Charlie pulled her towards his home, guiding her inside. The second the door fell shut, she found herself pressed against it, lips once again pressed against Charlie’s. Even though (y/n) wouldn’t admit to it out loud, she couldn’t help but thank her lucky stars for the way Charlie was touching her. She had been worried about pressuring him into doing things he wasn’t ready for just yet, but the way he was touching her now seemed to erase every single worry she had about a moment like this one. 

“Let’s go upstairs, you deserve a nice mattress at least.” Charlie tried to part from her, wanting (y/n) to feel as comfortable as possible, but she only shook her head, fingers working on the zip of her dress, stepping out of the thin fabric. His pupils grew bigger once again, wandering up and down her underwear-clad frame. Slowly she walked towards the couch, murmuring a soft “I don’t want to waste any more time, Charlie”. 

Within moments he had her in his lap, allowing her hands to work on the buttons of his white dress shirt, suit jacket long forgotten. Both were desperate to undress one another, desperate to feel their naked bodies intertwined, and desperate to touch the parts they kept on longing for. 

“Fuck, I tried to hold back, I really did, tired to give you enough time, but it was torture not touching you these past days.” His words left her grinning, letting go of a simple “Same” as she pushed his shirt down his arms. Her fingers roamed his chest, exploring his warm skin. (Y/n) was too concentrated on his skin to pay his wandering fingers any attention, and how they undid her bra. Charlie’s groan ripped her out of her trance, letting her bra drop to the ground while she watched Charlie undo his trousers, set on fucking her right there and then.

“Charlie,” his name rolled off her tongue as if she was reciting a poem, set on expressing her adoration, set on telling him all about her feelings for him without needing to put them into words. “Fuck me, please, just fuck me.” 

A gasp left (y/n) as Charlie flipped them around, grinning down at her as he now hovered over her, doing quick work on her soaked panties, pulling them down her trembling legs. The sight of her bare cunt left Charlie groaning, eyes taking in every inch of her now naked body, “You’re dripping baby, making such a beautiful mess.” 

“Charlie, I need you inside of me, don’t make me wait any longer.” (Y/n)’s words dripped with desperation, eyes growing wide as he spat onto her cunt, saliva mixing with her arousal. He circled her bundle and grinned down at her as a string of curses rolled off her tongue. She was at his mercy, ready for the man she needed like a starving woman who needed her food, he was the air she was desperate to breathe, the one she’d search all earth for. 

“Let me grab a condom.” He tried to rise from the couch, but (y/n) wouldn’t let him, pulling Charlie down for a messy kiss. 

“I’m on the pill, I want to feel you.” Her words drew another groan from Charlie, grasping his cock to pump himself a few times, pushing into her without another warning. Both moaned in unison, eyes holding contact, not daring to look away for even just a second. He didn’t hold back, didn’t move slow, no, Charlie fucked her into the couch, high on the feeling of her clenching around him. 

It had been too long for the both, no longer used to feeling this close to someone they actually enjoyed being around, and yet it felt better than ever before, more sincere, more loving, more intimate. They didn’t hold back, didn’t try to swallow their sounds, giving into every call, choking on one another’s name. 

His fingertips dug into her skin, not daring to let go of her, of the way she fitted to him oh so perfectly. (Y/n) was sure that she’d forever remember this, forever remember his sounds, his touches, the way he fucked her into oblivion on his couch.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Charlie’s raspy voice left her gasping, arching her back off the couch, trembling thighs tightening their grip on his waist. This was messy, this was rough, this was everything the both of them needed. She felt him shift, felt him raise her hips off the fabric with another deep moan leaving them at the new angle. 

“God, Charlie, you’re so fucking deep.” She was sure that she felt him in her stomach, fucking her deeper than she had ever been fucked before. The way she shook beneath him, breaths uneven, eyes wide, warned Charlie of her quickly arising high, about to cum on his cock, about to let go with a call of his name. 

And it was the prettiest thing Charlie had ever seen, a sight so vulnerable, so beautiful, he felt himself tumbling over the edge seconds later, cumming deep inside of her. Her walls pulsed around his twitching cock, needing to hold on for as long as possible, not daring to part before both could relax, heavily panting. 

“See, I told you, there’s no better thing than weddings.” Her whispered words left Charlie chuckling, forehead pressed against hers. He pulled (y/n) in for another kiss before he slowly pulled out of her, watching her make a mess on his couch with a smirk glued to his lips. 

“Well, if they always end like that, I’ll have to drag you to a lot of them.”

#Charlie Swan smut #Charlie Swan imagine #twilight #Charlie Swan x reader

[darling-i-read-it]

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)

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

#carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x fem!reader #charlie swan x reader #charlie swan x fem!reader #carlisle cullen x reader x charlie swan #charlie swan x fem!reader x carlisle cullen #twilight imagines #twilight fanfiction

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Prologue

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None for this chapter [this also isn’t beta’d so bear with me]

Notes: it took me so long to work up the courage to actually post my first work, so enjoy! I’ll be over here anxiously awaiting your thoughts.

Word Count: 705

Series Masterlist

A clear horizon. An orange sunset fading into vivid pinks and purples as the atmosphere darkens in preparation for the night. Evening sun warming your face, the space around you drifting into silence as calm settles into your bones, time halting its ever constant forward march, no thoughts or worries.

That’s what it felt like, the moment my eyes met Jasper Hale’s. Like I was done searching for what my heart was in need of as soon as I glanced into those golden pools of his.

• January 24th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

Based on the non-stop gossip floating around this microscopic high school, I’m the newest kid on the block. Dethroning the most recent to wear the title, Bella Swan, the Police Chief’s daughter.

Now, I’m not opposed to the Olympic Peninsula of Washington State, but Forks could strive to be a little more than a one-stoplight town and add a few more amenities. This big city Texas girl needs a little more than Forks Outfitters - the one stop shop for food, basic clothing, and hardware.

I left Dallas because my mom needed me here, my dad didn’t want to trade sunshine and big ranches for rain and freezing temperatures. They’re happily divorced, but I can tell that over time it’s worn her down. I’m just a junior in high school, but I guess she and I can navigate this together.

God, let there be cute boys at this high school, I’m begging you.

I was almost immediately accosted by what I deemed the welcoming committee the moment I locked the door to my car and began the dreaded ‘new kid’ trek to the front office of Forks High School. Stares came from anyone loitering in the parking lot before class while this overly-excited kid, who introduced himself as Eric Yorkie, began what had to be a well rehearsed ‘anything you need’ spiel.

All hopes of flying under the radar halfway through junior year vanished into thin air and I hadn’t even made it to the sidewalk yet.

“Eric? I really appreciate your help and concern, but I was hoping to kinda just glide in on my first day and blend in.” I said as we walked together through the wet parking lot, dodging the bigger puddles so I wouldn't soak my shoes before I got to my first class of the day.

“Oh that’s pretty much impossible here, newcomers are always the only thing everyone talks about. Don’t be scared to hit me up with questions later though, good luck!” Shouting that last part as he dashed off to class, turning the heads of a few close students.

A deep sigh passed my lips as I trudged on, pulling open the heavy door to the administration office. It’s nice to have someone offer help on my first day, I just wish this town was big enough so that I could get lost on everyone’s list of priorities to gossip about or stare at.

Today is going to be a long day.

“Good morning dear!” A sweet older woman announced from behind the central desk in the front office. The name plate in front of her reading ‘Administrative Secretary Shelly Cope’.

“Good morning Miss Cope. I’m Y/n Y/l/n, here to pick up my class schedule and hopefully a map of the place?” I said, cutting to the chase. The front office is a giant fish bowl to the students walking by outside, no one wants to spend more time than necessary here on their first day.

“Oh yes! I’ve got it all printed out and ready to go for ya dear, along with your locker assignment.” She says with a smile, passing the papers across her desk. “Let me know if you have any questions or if you need help with anything!”

“Yes ma’am, thank you!” I responded, half reading my new schedule - half aware of where I was going as I press a shoulder to the exit.

First period Biology

Second period English

Third period Spanish

Fourth period Trigonom-

The front office door smacks straight into an unsuspecting, gorgeous, golden-eyed fellow student, sending the papers clutched in my hands to the ground.

Next

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale fanfiction #twilight #twilight fanfiction #reader insert #slow burn #bless-my-demons #redamancy series

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iii

plots are half revealed, and willy "mr accidentally steal yo girl" wonka gets his sorry ass saved by a woman wearing one of those "oh no my husband mysteriously floated away died" robes you see all over pinterest. (now there's a sentence i never thought i'd write.)

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

i would like to thank mr mathew baynton in that one bts interview for those bits and pieces of fickelgruber analysis that will totally now be used here. and also for being generally wonderful. thanks mat ilysm

also i thought it would be sort of funny for at least someone in this world revolving around chocolate to be lactose intolerant and then of course i had to turn it into something sad and poetic bc of Who I Am As A Person

enjoy!! and thank you for all the support on this fic so far!!

part two fic masterlist part four

She had a lot to think about that night.

Felix hadn’t returned home yet, and she started to worry that the fateful flying chocolates weren’t quite as harmless as advertised. The young man who’d made them, too, was swirling about her mind in a haze of schoolgirl blushes and piercing guilt.

Florence Fickelgruber had chosen her lot when she agreed to take on that name. Who was she to imagine a freer life, one of candy-coated dreams and a clear conscience, of gazes and banter with someone her own age, of running her hand through curls that weren’t slick with expensive gel? Who was she to foolishly wish for anything different, when so many people were counting on her?

She missed her home, her family, and it hadn’t been lost on her that Felix had never told her about his own background. Their wedding was attended mainly by those surrounding the Fickelgruber business, as well as another flood of press. She’d had to blink so much that day, unused to being in front of cameras after a youth spent on the stage, but her new husband had preened next to her as if this focus on appearance was where he felt most at home. She remembered the crowd’s polite cheers fading in her mind as he had slowly lifted her chin while she accepted a forkful of the most extraordinarily decadent chocolate cake.

For that day, she had allowed the feeling of his hand on her face to eclipse that of the too-rich frosting stuck in her throat.

Then he came through the door, humming a jaunty tune, and she blinked, torn out of the memory that she felt an entirely different kind of guilt for indulging in.

“Felix? Darling, where have you been?”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty auburn head, my songbird. The boy’s finished, absolutely finished. No one will be flying about the Galeries Gourmet if the police have anything to say about it.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“He’s disturbed the peace, made a commotion, even encouraged the-the-the unfortunate to disgrace our sacred sanctuary of chocolate. And the Chief is none too happy about it.”

“Is he?” she said suspiciously, stepping in front of him-because, up until this point, he hadn’t looked her in the eye.

Felix was silent for a moment, cacao eyes darting. His wife’s gaze was strong and unyielding-don’t lie to me again, I can’t take it-but her head tilted innocently to the side, a sort of plausible deniability.

A sort of protection.

“Yes,” he breathed with a curt nod, and took her hands in his. “I promise you, it was a solemn thing.”

“Then what were you singing as you came in?”

The chocolatier blinked again, falling into an absolutely done sort of expression, and Florence’s head tilted to the other side.

“You’ve had another musical number without me.”

“I’m terribly sorry, pet.”

“You know you can’t hide from me, Felix,” she said, something that would have been playfully teasing but held an edge of desperation that he refused to pick up on.

“It of course wasn’t the same without you,” he drawled in that ever-dramatic way, bringing her into their living room. “We’ll make it up now. Dance with me, Florence.”

He snapped his fingers, and some unseen yet attentive servant placed a needle on a record. A crooning melody started to crackle and bounce across the high golden ceilings, and Felix spun his wife into him, twirling her about with a smirk that she could only imagine to be the result of a monopoly saved.

She swayed to and fro in his arms, trying desperately to sink into the music, unable to focus on anything but the wrenching pull of her battling guilts.

~

Florence spent much of the next day in a state of ping-ponging worry. She’d looked intently out of the mansion’s sprawling windows over the town square, wondering whether her forbidden new friend had taken her advice.

“Just…don’t give up.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

And who knows what they’ll do to him now?

The hours had passed in a blur, and then she was laid limp, unable to sleep, and mentally exhausted, next to her husband and his piccolo snore.

She had screwed her eyes shut and burrowed into him, trying to force herself to feel as secure as she did two years ago; then, the slight sound of a little girl’s singing voice lifted itself into her consciousness, followed by the blare of a police car.

Puzzled, Florence carefully got out of bed and went to the window once more. The girl she’d heard was the one with the sweet smile that she’d seen in the Galeria yesterday, and Willy Wonka was next to her, warning her to run. The Chief of Police and Officer Affable faced them, but this wasn’t to last-the former seemed to tell the latter to leave, and the latter obeyed.

It wasn’t as if a switch flipped at that moment.

More like…

An extinguished candle was finally relit.

Before she could overthink herself into inaction, Wren was grabbing her robe and slippers and bolting downstairs, the snore that echoed after her serving as reassurance that she wouldn’t be found out. In her haste, she had the passing realization that this would be the first time she’d leave the house with her hair down and uncoiffed in over two years.

Through this rush, she heard the plunge of something in the town square’s fountain along with the shouts of the Chief, and she ran faster, throwing open the door just in time to see him about to club a drenched Willy over the head.

“OFFICER!”

Both men turned to her in an instant. She let out the breath she’d been holding since first hearing the girl’s voice, rolled her shoulders back, dropped into the character she’d played for the past two years, and stepped forward.

“What on earth is going on?”

They stared, each with a different kind of shock, as she walked toward the fountain. The Chief returned his nightstick to its holster.

“Mrs. Fickelgruber,” he stammered, “I thought you would have thought-well, I guess he didn’t tell-you aren’t-”

“No, I’m not thrilled about you clobbering this poor young man in the middle of the night,” she said, placing a hand on Willy’s shoulder. He looked at her, still touched with the fear of the past minutes but now grateful, and she tried not to be struck by the freckles she saw behind his water-plastered curls.

“Who said anything about clobbering?” the Chief laughed somewhat nervously. “We were just having a chat. An impactful, memorable chat. Right, Mr. Wonka?”

Willy dragged his eyes to him and held them there, a bit speechless.

What was probably three seconds but felt like an eternity of strange silence passed.

“Memorable indeed.”

“Right, then,” the Chief said. “You’ll do good to continue to remember it. Goodnight, Mrs. Fickelgruber.”

With that, he entered his car and drove away, his tail lights fading in the distance as the remaining pair stood, a little shell-shocked, her hand still on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said after a while, his gaze still trailing the receding police car.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, giving his shoulder an awkward pat, which made her realize just how cold he was due to the impromptu fountain bath. “Oh, God, you’re freezing. Let me…”

As he turned towards her, she looked up, trying to see through her window in the dark. She could barely make out the shape of a sound-asleep Felix, still in bed.

“Come to the office, I’ve got the key. There’s a fireplace there; you can stay as long as you need to to warm up.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes moved up the same way, then back to her, and she shook her head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course.”

~

“Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea? Hot chocolate?”

She hadn’t turned on most of the lights so as not to draw attention, but she’d started a beautiful fire, which Willy sat by in a plush emerald-green chair. She’d rattled off the drinks on habit, but she turned to him upon saying the third, sharing his smile.

“The last one, please. But I’ll make it.”

“No, you need to rest-”

“I insist,” he said, moving to join her by the small bar in the office and searching through ingredients. “Unless that’s some sort of corporate sacrilege.”

“Making chocolate in enemy territory?”

He took a small jar of powder from his sleeve and shook it into two mugs, considering this, and his smile faltered a bit.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked. “That they’d…that they’d send the police after me? That business rivalry is thought of like a war?”

She pursed her lips and nodded solemnly.

“They…feel threatened,” she said slowly, “and, despite how professional they seem, they can’t be mature or rational about it. Apparently, you really do have the best chocolate in town.”

He neither confirmed nor denied, but gave half of a smile as he looked down at the drinks he was stirring.

“And I, for one, am quite looking forward to trying it.”

“Here, then,” he said, pulling something out of a coat pocket that had managed to escape the frozen flush. “Nothing too dangerous about this one. Just some good old Wonka magic.”

He opened his hand to her, revealing a small, wrapped treat, and she sighed.

“I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t. Not even the drinks.”

“Why not?” came the stunned reply, and she nearly laughed at just how sweetly scandalized the boy seemed to be at the idea of anyone denying themselves that pleasure.

“Milk has never really…agreed with me. Bad for the throat, and I’m a singer besides, as you know-I mean, I-well, it’s just…”

PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.

“I shouldn’t.”

He took a moment, and she watched his eyes widen as he processed the shocking injustice of being genetically predisposed against chocolate.

“Does your husband know about this?”

“He does, but he doesn’t care. Says I’ll ‘grow out of it with time’, which I haven’t.”

“So he’s…”

“Essentially poisoning me, yes.”

They laughed a little, because, surrounded by echoes of Fickelgruber’s power, it was the only thing they could do.

Willy stared at the table for a moment, then pulled another vial, this one containing a liquid, from yet another pocket.

“Lucky for you, then, I’ve got milk made from the product of the finest almond trees on the islands of Seychelles,” he said as he deftly poured the liquid into her glass. “Guaranteed to go down sweetly, both on the taste buds and after.”

“...Thank you,” she murmured, touched by the gesture.

With a final flick of the wrist, he deemed the hot chocolate finished, and they each carried their mug to the fire.

“Wren,” he said thoughtfully as they sat down.

“Hm?”

She was instinctively flooded with warmth in the same way she was yesterday, though whether it was due to the stunningly perfect cocoa or hearing her name in his voice she wasn’t sure.

“Is it a nickname? Songbird, right?”

She saw in the fireglow that his face darkened a bit upon the memory of how Felix had always referred to her in the press, taking that potentially sweet title and spinning it in an almost dehumanizing manner. So someone did notice.

“Well…sort of. That was what my parents intended. They say a wren sang when I was born, so they gave me that name, and I loved it. But Felix assumed it was a nickname and suggested I should expand it; to sound more sophisticated in my performances, he said, but I knew half the reason was to fit with the alliteration. He’s always valued aesthetics above anything else.”

They were silent for a while, and the massive painting seemed to stare down at them, making the Fickelgrubers look almost menacing in the fireglow.

“That’s you?”

A moment passed.

“No. No, that’s not really me.”

Her voice was quiet, but decisive. Willy looked at her, really looked at her, and she felt more seen than she had in years.

“I want to help you,” she said.

“Hm?”

His head tilted to the side, a little stunned, and she nearly giggled as his now-drying curls flopped in front of his face.

How could anyone want to hurt him?

“I don’t know exactly what Felix and the rest have planned against you, but I know there’s something. He never really tells me anything, but I’ll…I’ll try to find out what I can, to distract him when needed. I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

“I’m not,” he said. “The others where I’m staying right now, we’re all in a rather precarious situation together, and I’ve got a few ideas, but…”

She watched the wheels turn in his mind, and after a few moments, he looked back up at her, for once lost for words.

“But thank you. Again. I’d…I appreciate it.”

“Thank you. For bringing some much-needed heart into this place.”

“I think you’ve done that rather well yourself.”

This was news to her often-guilt-wracked brain.

“...Really?”

“Well, of course. You clearly care, Wren…you’re kind, you’re poetic and talented, and far smarter than it seems they give you credit for. It’s in your eyes, too, I think. You can always tell the truth by a person’s eyes.”

Her heart had nearly stopped.

Somehow, though, she could tell that he was unaware of the full effect he had on her.

“Mr. Wonka-ah, Willy, I mean…”

“Forgive me if-I didn’t intend to-”

The clocks around the city chimed the hour, interrupting the two just as they had the day before, and the young man’s expression went from its dazed dawning to a startled realization.

“They’ll need me. Back where I’m staying, I mean.”

“Of-of course,” she said a bit awkwardly as they both stood up.

His hair had dried by now, falling in perfectly imperfect swoops around his face. He’d undone his necktie to keep its cold away from his neck, and his jacket was folded over his arm, and he was looking at her as if he hadn’t had a conversation quite like that with someone in a very, very long time.

And neither had I.

Or…ever, I suppose.

Until now.

“Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome. Again.”

She took a breath, let it out, and folded him into a hug, which he returned in an instant.

After two years of jutting angles and sharply possessive grasps, it was remarkable to simply, softly, hold and be held.

They bid a last goodnight before parting ways, and as she took her time walking back to the mansion, the moon seemed brighter than ever before.

#wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka x reader #willy wonka x reader #wonka #willy wonka #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic #mat baynton #mathew baynton #mathew baynton x reader #mat baynton x reader #fiytwtb

[yourpaceangel]

Second most insane part of Twilight btw is the part where Bella rips a piece of glass out of her leg and several minutes later Carlisle is like “she severed her femoral artery” like??? Severed??? She fully severed it??? And you weren’t more concerned about it??????? And then you let Edward take MORE of her blood????????? Dr Cullen I have concerns about your medical knowledge

The third most insane part is whatever the fuck is going on with the police force there. Charlie is the chief but somehow he is also the one investigating murders? Do you not have detectives? And if he’s chief of police in Forks then why is investigating murders that occur outside city limits?? I know you have a sheriff’s office there! I saw the cars! They’re different from the Forks PD cars! Why was Carlisle conducting an autopsy at the police department?? Is that where their morgue is? Is Carlisle also a forensic pathologist?? Is he the ME for the county?? There’s a lot of police stuff that happens in the movie that I have questions about. Why were you discussing confidential information about a series of murders in a public cafe Charlie?? You are the CHIEF OF POLICE I KNOW YOU KNOW THATS NOT ALLOWED

The most most insane part of Twilight is the racism, of course.

#stephanie meyer read a book one time and decided that was plenty of knowledge to last the rest of her life

[totally-bing]

Hi my name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that's how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don't know who she is get da hell out of here!). I'm not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he's a major fucking hottie. I'm a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I'm also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I'm in the seventh year (I'm seventeen). I'm a goth (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

"Hey Ebony!" shouted a voice. I looked up. It was... Draco Malfoy!

"What's up Draco?" I asked.

"Nothing." he said shyly.

But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.

aid my goodbyes to the sun.

Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop.

Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.

"It's good to see you, Bells," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. "You haven't changed much. How's Renée?"

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt — sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It 

draco malfoy author self insert shipping fic

not something i expected in my askbox but that's the best kind of thing

#bing #bingposting

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Had Bella been openly bisexual from the start, how would this change things?

Thoughts on Bella's sexuality.

Well, it'd either change everything or nothing.

Everything

Canon never happens. Bella, being an open bisexual, is contemplating moving to a deep red county to go to an insanely small town where she's already the police chief's runaway bride.

Now she's the flaming gay runaway bride's daughter at a school where there's definitely no LGBQT+ community and the only thing they know about gay people is that Elton John exists somewhere in Britain.

While Bella loves Renee and really really really didn't want to go to Forks in canon but sacrificed her happiness for her mother, this could be the argument to have Bella say "no thank you, hick town" and feel terrible about her mother being miserable but, well, she really hates Forks.

Nothing

Two options to this, one, Bella steps back into the closet. It's 2005, she's in a town she hates, she already thinks these people are going to give her endless shit about Renee and Charlie having gotten divorced ages ago, I can easily see her deciding that no one needs to know because there's not any hot people in Forks anyway so she won't be dating anyone.

Joke's on her when the entire Cullen family is divinely hot, but it works out when she ends up dating one of the really hot ones, Edward, who is also the only single one and is also a man so nobody needs to know.

The other option is that Bella is out and it gets a little weird with the people at Forks as not only is Bella from Phoenix (!!!) but she's also gay (specifically, I imagine especially back then in Forks, I imagine bisexual would throw people for a loop as Mike wonders if this means he has a chance or not because Bella likes the ladies but...s he's also into dudes, right? Right?) Bella's even more contemptuous of her human peers than in canon, but since she didn't like them much in canon anyway, it's not a big change.

As for Edward, he doesn't really care what Bella thinks, and would think this is part of what makes her wonderfully unique compared to the other girls. He also seems like the type who'd be proud to show how progressive he is in accepting Bella's sexuality. So long as she's interested in him, canon proceeds unchanged except Edward might get even weirder about Rosalie as, "No, Bella, she's not hot. She is a vain shrew who is ugly on the inside" and briefly acknowledges the wonderful human future Bella could have without him might not involve marrying a dude (except that he's very much picturing her running off with Jacob and having a thousand babies).

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #bella swan #edward cullen #bella/edward #anti bella/edward #meta #headcanon #opinion #fantasmadaagnes

[twilightsagasworld]

(The man ) Garrett x Reader

(Requested by @twilightlover2007 )

Part 1

“Single file line, please! The ground is still very wet and slippery”, the bustling of very small toddlers and a single teacher trying to keep them all together was a sight to see at the Forks Museum. (y/n), a young pre-k teacher had finally gotten to take her small class of 10 children to the museum after weeks of waiting for parental approval forms to be brought back. It was the middle of winter and living in Forks meant that there wasn’t alot for a pre-k teacher to come up with to entertain the little ones. The museum was the cheapest option, and guaranteed that the small children would be entertained by the many artifacts and attractions that surrounded them. An aquarium would have been a much better bet, but the nearest one was out of state and very expensive. 

The small group of teacher and students were on their way to the minivan bus that (y/n) had organised when a small hand tugged at her winter jacket, “Miss Johnson I have to make a sissy!”, (y/n) knelt down to the boy’s height, “Okay Troy, but let me make sure everyone is buckled in first and that the nice security man can look after them”.

After that was all organised and the museum security agreed to watch them, (y/n) grabbed small Troy’s hand and guided him to the bathrooms inside the museum. They didn’t take long before exiting the girls restroom that (y/n) noticed the boys untied shoelaces, “Oh, just a second dear, let miss Johnson help you tie your laces…”  

It was a small gust of wind she noticed first, a glance to her left told her that the doors and windows were shut, leaving no room for cold air to pass. She stood up, “Miss Johnson, my-” “Hush”, her tone left no room for a word, she stepped in front of the boy and felt his small hands cling to her leg. She took a steady look around them, they were in a darker part of the building, and the light above them was flickering randomly. Another gust of wind past them, this time with enough force to blow her hair in her face and make the small child yelp. 

“Who’s there?” her voice seemed so quiet all of a sudden, almost out of pure instinct as if to hide where she was. She took a look back down to the boy but was met with bright red eyes the second she looked back, “Hey!” she yelped, taking a big and clumsy step back, careful of the child clung to her. The scruffy-looking man in front of her gave her a wry smile, “My my,  aren’t you a pretty thing?”, she scowled. He stepped forward, dark bags under his eyes making their strange colour stand out so much more, “Stay- stay right there…” The man took a step closer, “But you smell so good… Its been driving me crazy for days!” he made a dramatic gesture. (y/n) was so so frightened, frozen in a state of shock she could barely feel the shaking hands around her leg, but the boy’s crying snapped her out of it, and like a mother hen she snapped around and took the boy into her arms, holding onto him for dear life. The man stopped in his tracks, staring alarmedly at the crying child in her arms, (y/n) took her chances, not knowing if they were slim, “Please… don’t hurt us” she pled through her own tears now, her body seemed to be going haywire since this man showed himself like all her senses were telling her she was the prey and this red-eyed man was the predator.

The man said nothing, trying to reclaim his facade, he grumbled and sighed, his eyes darting between her and the child. He waved them off, and without thinking she ran, ran until she was at her van and told the security what happened, all the same trying to comfort a child in distress as the authorities arrived ten minutes later. Parents were called too, and most showed up not too long after the police, led by Charlie Swan. (y/n) was in such a state when she told them what she explained to the security, a tall, rough-looking man with red eyes had shown up out of nowhere and tried intimidating her and most likely worse. Chief Swan had the museum swept through and found no trace of such a man. “Go home, get some rest and tomorrow you come down to the station and we’ll take it from there, aight?” With nothing else she could of done, she drove the rest of the children back to the school and with the school already knowing what was up, she left them in the care of another teacher as she was sent home at just past noon.

(Y/n) locked all her doors and windows and distracted herself with a scalding shower. With no desire to eat or do anything else, and stressed beyond measure, (y/n) put on her cd player in the living room of her small one-story house and ploughed herself down on her coach, heavy blankets following.

She didnt sleep well that night, red eyes filling the dark corners of her living room…

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight x reader #jasper hale #twilight carlisle #edward cullen #twilight-x-reader #alistair+twilight #carlisle-cullen-x-reader #alice cullen #garretttwilight #garrettxreader #stephenie meyer #lee pace #daddy #vampire

[minisugakoobies]

Ashes Falling | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: smut, crack, DadYoongi!AU, BadCop!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: weapons - guns, switching POVs, angst!, allusions to murder, mentions of blood/wounds, fighting (hand-to-hand), shooting, Yoongi shows off that tongue technology (oral sex - f receiving), rough fucking (protected sex), Yoongi is not a good guy (ymmv)

Word Count: 5.3k (whoops)

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: I see the ashes falling out your window There's someone in the mirror that you don't know And everything was all wrong So burn it till it's all gone

A/N: And we've reached the end! This series came out of absolutely nowhere thanks to @minttangerines's beautiful brain and it's been fun just writing with no plan and no expectations. Thank you for riding along! 💜

Chapter title and summary from Agust D's masterpiece Burn It 🔥

Unbeta’d as usual. I’d love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Part 6 💵 Bad Cop Masterlist

Then

Yoongi sits across from you, one hand resting on the dining table, the other playing with a glass of whisky. Around and around, the caramel liquid swirls. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear he was trying to hypnotize you. 

And it might work, if you were anyone else. Of course, anyone else would already be under the handsome man’s thrall. Especially the way he looks tonight - in his tailored suit, bespoke undoubtedly, since money is apparently no object for him, and with his dark hair slicked back to reveal more of his gorgeous face.

When he’d asked you to dinner tonight, you’d felt a slight thrill of victory, knowing that your plan was working. You’d succeeded so far in inserting yourself into his life. All the secrets the Bureau wanted so desperately for you to discover were practically within your grasp. You just needed a sign from him to confirm that you’re in. 

“So are you thinking of extending your contact?” Yoongi asks, sipping at his drink. You’d told him when you’d first met that you were working for Da-som’s school for a year, with the option to extend if the school agreed. He speaks casually, almost disinterestedly, but you can hear the true question beneath - are you staying?

“I think so. I really like it here.” 

A hint of a smile crosses his face at your answer. Long fingers reach into the inside pocket of his jacket and produce a cigarette, which he lights with the click of a flashy silver lighter. There’s not supposed to be any smoking in this restaurant, but no one’s going to stop the chief detective of the city’s police force, and he knows it. It’s a power move. 

“Good,” is all he says, blowing a smoke ring towards the ceiling. 

Anyone other than you would be affected by his reaction. By the heated look he gives you, gaze slipping down your face, down to your waist, and back. Not you, though. You know better than to fall for any of this. 

This is what you remind yourself as you push your thighs together, trying to still the sudden throbbing there. 

Your waiter returns with the bill and Yoongi simply reaches into his pocket, dropping a stack of cash on the tray without looking. Another power move. 

“Thank you for dinner,” you smile shyly, setting down your dessert fork. “I’m - I’m glad you asked me. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you better these last few weeks.” 

He leans forward, reaching his hand across the table to where yours is resting. When his fingers tap you, you flip your hand over and he slides his hand on top of yours. You immediately register something cool and hard between your palms. 

“Me too,” he says softly. “And I don’t want to stop.” 

He pulls his hand back a little, curling your fingers around what he’s left behind. Yoongi stands, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it as he bows. 

“I’ll be waiting,” he murmurs, lips humming against your skin, and then he walks away. You track him as he saunters confidently through the crowded room, until he reaches the entrance of the restaurant and vanishes. 

Opening your hand, you stare down at the piece of plastic lying there. A room key, to the hotel next door. There it is - your sign. 

The excitement that blazes through you is the ecstasy of knowing you’ve succeeded. Of realizing that you’re one step closer to the win, and nothing else.

This is what you tell yourself as you rise to your feet, and follow. 

Now

Your bag rests on the passenger seat as you hurtle down the highway. The car you’re driving is a piece of shit, but you were in no position to barter when you’d asked Seokjin if he had anything you could borrow to finish your mission. He’d called a friend of a friend and mere minutes later you were on your way. 

The police cruiser is still at Seokjin's, along with Jungkook. Your partner had been sleeping when you’d left, whispering a quick goodbye, telling him to stay put and rest while you finished the job. Seokjin promised he’d take care of him and you had no doubt that he would be safe there. 

The car’s shocks are fairly worn, meaning every little bump in the road sends your satchel bouncing. Instinctively, you reach out, searching until you find the little key tucked away in an inner pocket. The cold metal soothes you as you clutch at it anxiously. This is it, the final key to bringing Yoongi down. 

Your plan is, frankly, insane. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Thankfully, Seokjin gave you access to his personal arsenal, which is not small. But even if you’re strapped to the teeth, you’ll practically need a miracle. 

However, you’re not the praying type. Your faith resides solely in yourself. So you breathe deeply, and keep your eyes firmly on the road as you run through your plan again and again in your mind. 

As the bay comes into view, you pull over, parking the car near the entrance to the neighborhood where Yoongi’s second house resides. You’ll have to go on foot from here, to remain unseen by his men. Yoongi’s too careful to leave this place unmanned. 

You approach the fence bordering his mansion, peering between the iron bars. His vacation home is massive, a sprawling ode to excess, flaunting his new wealth. The layout of the place is fresh in your mind, thanks to floor plans stolen from the developer. Unfortunately, that’s not going to help you much if you’re outnumbered by Yoongi’s men. If only you could’ve waited for sundown, to give you more cover, or waited for backup, but right now you don’t have the luxury of time. 

A hand suddenly slips over your mouth and your eyes widen as someone presses their body against your back. Fuck! You grasp at their arm, readying yourself to attack, when a familiar voice hisses, “Don’t scream! It’s me.” 

“Jungkook! What the fuck!” 

Your partner releases you. He’s a little paler than usual, but otherwise looks like himself, even in Seokjin’s clothing, a black t-shirt tucked under a Kevlar vest, colorful sleeve of tattoos bright in the midday sun. 

“Did you really think I was gonna let you do this alone?” He grins, ignoring your scowl. “Now what’s the plan?” 

There’s no point in arguing with him. He’s here now, and even though you’re full of conflicting emotions - anger that he didn’t listen to you, guilt that you’re the reason he got injured - the feeling that overrides them all is pure, intense relief. Of course he’s by your side. You’re not alone.

It doesn’t take long to fill him in. You’re basically just going in there with guns blazing, hoping to fight your way to where you believe Yoongi’s safe sits, holding the box with the secrets that little key will unlock. 

Jungkook just nods when you’ve finished. “Got it.”

“We should probably call for backup.” 

“Already did, on the way here. They’ll be here as fast as they can, but something tells me that you don’t want to wait.” 

“I don’t.” You need this to be over, now. 

“Okay then. Ready when you are.” 

“Jungkook.” You pause, unsure how to say this. “I’m sorry. For everythi- ”

But he stops you with a shake of his head. “None of that. We’ve got a job to do.” He cups his hands, waiting to give you a boost over the fence. “Come on. You lead. I’ll follow. Like always.” 

With a nod of your own, you step onto his hands, and climb the fence.

Then

Yoongi glances at his watch. It’s only been five minutes since he left you sitting at the table, but it feels much, much longer. Too long. He loosens his tie a bit as he waits. His suit jacket is folded over the back of the chair beside the bed. The room is quiet. 

Is he rushing things? It’s very like him to do that. He could move more slowly with you. But, well, he doesn’t want to. He wants you now.

Which is why he’s here, perched on the edge of the bed, staring at the door. Waiting.

It’s not just about sex. If Yoongi only wanted to get his dick wet, he wouldn’t have to take anyone out on several dates first. That’s not arrogance - it’s a fact that he radiates power, and women are attracted to that. And he knows he looks good. He has mirrors. 

No, it’s more than that - although he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been imagining this moment since the first time he saw you in Da-som’s classroom. He’d been so distracted by your beauty at the parent-teacher conference that he’d accidentally agreed to chaperone a class trip, just nodding along to whatever you were saying while picturing what you’d look like if he bent you over your desk right then and there. But beyond his baser needs, there’s something else. Something that draws him to you. He senses a kindred spirit. He needs to know how deep that connection goes.

There’s a loud click and the door suddenly opens. Yoongi stands as you enter. 

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” you say, biting your lip before smiling sweetly. 

In just three steps he’s across the room, pulling you into his arms for a passionate kiss. 

He quietly orders you to lift your arms, and the gorgeous dress you’d worn to dinner crumples into a soft ball of fabric on the ground. With sure steps he maneuvers you towards the bed, helping you sit on the edge, kindly freeing your breasts from the confining corsetry of your bra as he goes. While you settle onto the soft sheets, he slides your panties down your legs, taking care to rake his fingers along the soft skin there, delighting in the way you shudder at his touch. 

The plush carpet gives way beneath his knees as he kneels, leaning over to kiss you, getting lost in the incredible softness of your lips for a moment, until your hands reach for the buttons on his shirt. His hands lightly push yours away as he shakes his head. 

“Not yet, baby.” 

“But I wanna see you,” you say, pretty mouth turning down in a lovely little pout. “It’s not fair that I’m naked and you’re not.”

He just chuckles. Smoothly, he undoes one cufflink, then the other, rolling his sleeves to his elbows. His forearms flex with the motion, drawing your attention, and he smirks. 

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, “I’ll still put on a good show for you.” 

He kneels again, gently pressing his fingers into the bare skin of your stomach, urging you to lie back. One of your thighs comes to rest on his shoulder, then the other. With one hand he spreads your folds, saliva flooding his mouth at the glistening sight in front of him. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you look good enough to eat.” 

You mewl as he kisses your dripping cunt, over and over, getting his mouth all sticky with your desire. Yoongi always follows through on his promises, and this is no exception. You can’t tear your eyes away from the dark-haired man as he rubs his lips, his tongue, his nose all over you, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Occasionally your head drops back, your eyes closing as if overwhelmed by the sensations, but then they immediately open again, not wanting to miss a second. 

“Yoongi.” 

Panting moans fill Yoongi’s ears as he drowns in you. When he finds the right rhythm with his tongue on your clit, a rapid lapping that has your hips lifting off the bed, he slides a finger inside your slick warmth, then two, three, and your moans become cries. Pleas, broken and desperate, begging him for more. 

Impatience roars up inside him again and he lets your legs slide from his broad shoulders. His cock aches as he tears off his clothing, sheathing himself with the condom waiting in his pocket, and you’ve barely moved up on the bed to make room for him when he’s sliding inside you. Fuck. So warm, so tight. A space carved out just for him. 

The headboard smacks into the wall repeatedly as Yoongi thrusts into you, hips slapping your ass with every sharp snap. You’re babbling, an endless stream of words pouring from your mouth, but the only words Yoongi can make out are “Yoongi” and “more.” 

“You want more, baby? I’ll give you everything. Anything you could ever want.”  

He goes harder, faster, driving his cock deeper and deeper. His hands grope at your breasts, your ass, as you take everything he has to give. When he feels your walls start to constrict, it’s almost a relief, because he’s not going to last much longer. And sure enough, when your orgasm hits, your cunt grips his cock so tightly that he cums, head dropping onto your chest as he fills the condom with his hot release.  

He lies that way, cheek pressed into the curve of your breast, breathing heavily as you both come down. From here, he can feel your heart pounding. It’s not identical to the way his own drums, but instead compliments it, a wild syncopation beating along to the steady pulse of his own tempo. His fingers tap along your sternum. 

“Is that morse code?” Your voice is just barely above a whisper, as if you don’t want to shatter the peaceful stillness of the moment. 

He lifts his head, smiling. “That’s your heartbeat. I’m playing along.” 

“Playing what, my collarbones?” 

“My piano.” His fingers dance over imaginary keys, caressing your skin so, so gently. 

“I didn’t know you had a piano. Or that you could play.” 

There’s so much you don’t know about him. So much he wants to show you. But he knows that it will take time. He has to ease you into his world. 

“I’ll play for you sometime,” he says, crawling up your body until his face hovers over yours. “If you’d like.” 

“I would like that. Very much,” you reply, lips curling into a shy grin, and he kisses it away until you’re breathless. 

Eventually, he has to go. He needs to get home to Da-som. Yoongi can defeat any enemy - except a babysitter with a curfew. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, fixing his tie, as you watch him from beneath the sheets. “The room’s paid for until tomorrow, so you can stay all night if you want. Order some room service in the morning. Treat yourself, sweetheart.” 

The corner of your mouth twitches. “You keep calling me that.” 

“Is that okay?” 

In reply, you pull him in for another kiss, and he sighs, wishing he could stay. Or take you home with him. But he’s not ready to have that conversation with Da-som yet. Even though he’s rushing everything else. 

He taps his fingers on your chest. “Sleep well, sweetheart.” 

He starts to rise, but you grab his wrist, holding him in place. 

“Yoongi. I don’t…” 

He says nothing, waiting for you to find your words. 

“I don’t do this with every father I meet, you know,” you finish, flashing that beautiful bashful smile again.

“Just me?” 

“Just you.” Your hand reaches out to straighten his tie, but then you gently brush your fingertips over his chest, mimicking his actions from earlier. Tap-tap-tap. 

In that moment, Yoongi knows. He’ll do anything for you. Like he told you earlier, when he was wrapped in your arms - he’ll give you anything you want. 

All you have to do is ask. 

Now

Bodies. So many bodies, scattered around the grounds of his house. Yoongi blinks dispassionately at them all. He thought he’d hired the best. Clearly, he was wrong. 

Yoongi honestly hadn’t known what to expect when he and Jimin arrived at his house on the bay. One of his guards had called him while he was on his way here and alerted him that you’d been spotted near the fence bordering his property. He’d hoped that when he got here, he’d find you waiting for him, tied to a chair by one of his guards. But it appears that he’d underestimated your skills, if you managed to take out so many of his men at once. 

No one appears to be dead, but they’re all knocked out or wounded. Interesting. Are you afraid to use lethal force? Or are you just saving your best shots for him? 

Together, he and Jimin sweep the first floor, finding nothing but his more useless guards. With a few silent signals, Jimin indicates that he’s going to scout ahead, and begins to climb the stairs. Yoongi watches him disappear down the hallway with a growing sense of unease. He tightens his grip on his gun. 

Jimin reappears after a moment, shaking his head. There’s only the other end of the hallway to explore now. The master suite is down that way. Where, in one of the walk-in closets, nestled in the corner, sits Yoongi’s safe. 

Maybe you’re not here. Maybe you’re already gone, with the contents of the safe firmly in tow. Maybe it’s all over, and any second now, this place will be swarming with feds. For the briefest of moments, Yoongi feels the strangest sense of relief at the thought. 

And then the moment is broken as a very loud “God damn it!!” rings out. 

Jimin instinctively points his gun in the direction of the screaming. It’s coming from the master suite. Yoongi joins him at the top of the stairs. 

“It’s her,” he states in a hushed tone. “That’s her voice.” 

“Sounds like someone might be giving her a rough time?” 

There are no other sounds coming from the direction of the suite. No more curses, no scuffling, none of the sickening noises that a human body makes when someone else is beating the shit out of it.

“Nah. She’s working on the combination.” 

“At least it sounds like it’s not going well.” 

For the moment. You have the key to the safe, but it’s a dual lock system, requiring a combination as well. Yoongi has no doubt you’ll figure out the date he used. It’s just a matter of time. 

So he’d better not give you any more. 

Yoongi grimaces, the gun suddenly heavy in his hands. “You ready?” 

Jimin nods. 

Silently, they creep forward. The door to the master suite looms at the end of the hall, and Yoongi feels his already frantic pulse increasing with every step. 

And then a floorboard creaks under Yoongi’s foot. Loudly. 

Both men pause, staring at one another. Listening. Waiting. 

The door at the end of the hall starts to open. Jimin dives into an empty room to his left, while Yoongi dashes into the bathroom on his right

The mirror mounted on the wall faces towards the end of the hallway. As Yoongi hides, he stares at the reflection of the person emerging from the suite. Shit, it’s Jungkook, gun drawn as he carefully sweeps the other open rooms down the hall. So much for Jimin’s incredible marksman skills - the rookie cop slash undercover agent doesn’t look any worse for wear, let alone dead. 

The door at the end of the hall opens again. Yoongi’s breath catches. With a fiercely determined expression on your face and that gun in your hand, you look nothing like the sweet, shy teacher he met all those months ago. A mirthless chuckle bubbles up in his chest. He clenches his jaw to keep it down. Funny how he was right - you are a kindred spirit, after all. Just a funhouse version of one. Staring at him from the other side of the mirror.

“Jungkook,” he hears you whisper, tracing your partner’s footsteps. “Where are you?” 

“In here. Did you crack it?” Jungkook reappears, gun lowered, and - 

BANG!

A bullet slices through the air between you and Jungkook. The two of you immediately dive, raising your guns in the direction of the gunshot - which, of course, was just Jimin announcing his presence. 

“Drop your weapon and come out!” you shout. 

Jimin just laughs, shaking his head. “Does that shit ever work?”

“Goddamn it, it’s that maniac again,” you hiss, loud enough for Yoongi to hear. 

“Did you miss me, love?” Another wild cackle. Yoongi glares at the younger man, but says nothing, not wanting to give away his location. 

Faster than lightning, Jimin fires another shot towards the end of the hall. 

“Fuck!” Jungkook yells, placing himself between you and the line of sight to the room where Yoongi can see Jimin crouching just inside. “Get back in there and keep trying! I’ll handle this asshole.” 

As soon as the door closes behind you, Yoongi looks at Jimin. He points to himself and then the door at the end of the hall. Jimin nods. 

“Oh, you will, will you?” Jimin taunts Jungkook. He grins at Yoongi. “I think - HEY!” Jimin dives aside as a bullet pierces the doorway, embedding itself firmly in the open door that Jimin was just leaning against. “You son of a bitch, you almost clipped my hair!” 

“Next one’s going in your forehead!” 

“As if you could hit my forehead!” 

“How can I miss a target that big?” 

“THAT’S IT!” Jimin roars. “YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME?” He rolls up his sleeves, giant snake tattoo on his arm practically dancing as he clenches his fists. 

“Yeah! You already took one from me! It’s time for payback!” 

Jimin unbuckles his harness, letting the weapons hit the floor. “Then let’s do this! I’ll tear you apart with my bare hands!”

“LET’S GO, MOTHERFUCKER!” Jungkook screams, and suddenly there are two blurs flying down the hallway towards each other. They collide with a loud “whump!” and Yoongi quickly slips out of the bathroom and towards the master suite. 

He opens the door slowly, much slower than the adrenaline coursing through his body wants him to, but he doesn’t want you to hear him entering. The two men behind him pay no attention, lost in their frenzy, powerful blows landing left and right. Yoongi closes the door just as carefully, twisting the knob so the lock clicks quietly into place. 

Gun raised, he takes one step towards the closet. Then another. The door is wide open, but the closet is so big that he can’t see the safe in the corner. Or you. 

As soon as he crosses the threshold, there’s a loud shriek as you jump out from behind the door and tackle him. His gun goes flying. He lands on his side, the breath in his lungs whooshing out hurriedly as you roll on top of him, thighs straddling his chest. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.” You cock your gun, aiming it straight at his head. “I knew that maniac didn’t come alone.” 

Although your hands are steady, your chest rises with every panting breath you take, Yoongi notes. He feels his entire tensed body relax. You’re scared.

Good.

Yoongi smirks. “What are you gonna do, sweetheart? Shoot me?” He grabs the barrel of your gun as you gasp, but your finger doesn’t squeeze the trigger, even when he pulls it down until it presses into his forehead. “Go ahead.” 

“Stop it!” You try to yank your gun free, but he refuses to let go. You tug harder and harder, until he finally relinquishes his grip, and the force of your momentum throws you off balance. Yoongi scrambles to grab his gun as you’re knocked into a pile of hangers and clothing lying in a heap on the ground. When you rise, there’s a bright red line of blood seeping down your cheek, from where a hanger has cut you.

The two of you face off, guns drawn. Yoongi tuts. 

“Oh, sweetheart, your face. That looks nasty.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you snarl. 

“No? But I thought you liked it?” 

“I never did.” 

“Ah. Right. All part of the game, huh?” Yoongi laughs. “None of it was real, huh.” 

“It’s all over now.” Blood trickles down your cheek, dripping onto the pristine white carpet below. “Put the gun down, Yoongi. Think about Da-som. Think about -”

“No!” Yoongi takes a step forward. You hold your ground, but he swears he catches a flash of fear in your eyes. He should know, he’s seen it many times before. “Don’t you fucking tell me what to do! No one tells me what to do! I make the rules around here. I call the shots!” 

“Not anymore! We know everything. Everything. Your empire is burning down, Yoongi - don’t throw your life away trying to protect ashes!” 

“Oh, you know everything?” The mad laughter that’s been choking him finally slips past his lips. “Do you really? Fuck! You have no fucking idea!” Another step forward. He keeps his gun raised, but he’s cackling so wildly that his aim is all over the place. “Do you have any idea what I would’ve done for you? What I would’ve given you? Anything you wanted, anything you needed, it all would’ve been yours!”

“It wasn’t real, Yoongi!” 

“IT WAS REAL TO ME!” 

You freeze, eyes wide, as his shout echoes through the suite. Faintly, Yoongi can hear Jungkook and Jimin still fighting in the hallway. But it’s dead silent in the closet, where you’re still gazing at his face, as if searching for some sort of sign. 

Yoongi lowers his gun. He closes the gap between you, ignoring that your gun is now pointed directly at his heart, and reaches out with steady fingers.

Tap-tap-tap 

The silence in the closet is stifling, pressing in on him. But then you take in a shuddery breath. When Yoongi dares to look up, he sees tears in your eyes. 

But time, it seems, has run out. 

In the distance, but growing closer, he can hear the blaring wail of sirens. 

“YN!” Jungkook yells. The doorknob rattles. “Are you okay in there?” 

Yoongi’s fucked. He’s going down, and -

“Go,” you whisper. “You have to run.” 

There’s a loud thumping. Jungkook must be trying to break the door down with brute force. He’ll probably go grab his gun and try to shoot his way in next. Or any moment now, agents are going to come crashing through the windows. These are the panicked thoughts that race through Yoongi’s mind and prevent him from understanding what you’ve said. You drop your gun and grab his arms, shaking him. 

“Yoongi! Do you hear me? You have to run!” There’s a ferocity in your eyes that Yoongi’s never seen in anyone’s gaze but his own. “I know you have a back way out of here. You have to go now. Yoongi? Hey!” 

SMACK!

There’s a white-hot sting on his cheek. 

“Fuck, sweetheart!” He rubs away the pain left behind by your slap. 

A ghost of a smile crosses your face. The door has stopped shaking. “Listen, Jungkook will be in here any second. My team is likely already setting up a barricade and surrounding the place. You have to get to the water. Grab Da-som, start running, and never look back.” 

Da-som. Son of a bitch, he can’t lose her. The weight of everything he stands to lose finally comes crashing down. “Fuck, what have I done?” 

There’s a shout from the hallway, a berserker cry, and Yoongi realizes Jimin must have rallied for one last attack. Quickly, you take Yoongi’s hands, guiding him to stand again, and then lead him to the far corner of the master bedroom, where you push aside a bookshelf to reveal a darkened passageway, hidden from the outside. You really did know everything.

Or at least, now you do. 

The screaming sirens have stopped. Yoongi can hear voices out on the lawn. 

“I know you said you’re the one calling the shots, but you need to listen to me now. I’ll take care of everything else. But you - you can’t ever resurface, Yoongi. This is a one-time deal. Take Da-som and disappear. Please,” you whisper, clutching his hands. “Please, do this. If not for Da-som, if not for you - do it for me.” 

Even with his impending doom hovering just on the other side of the bedroom door, Yoongi can’t stop the way he feels. Of course he’ll run. 

Anything for you. 

Footsteps begin to echo throughout the house. Yoongi pulls you into his arms, embracing you one last time as his lips crash onto yours.

And then he runs.

Epilogue

You open the door to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and flop onto the couch. Another fucking long day. The planning for your latest mission is completely draining your energy. For not the first time in recent weeks, you wonder if you should listen to Jungkook’s advice and put in for that time off request. You could definitely use the break. 

Unconsciously, your fingers rub at the scar on your cheek. It hasn’t hurt for years, but in the last few weeks, it’s been itching like crazy. Jungkook always jokes that he can tell that it’s going to rain whenever his bullet wound aches. You wonder what the scar is trying to tell you. 

Eventually, you drag yourself off the couch and shuffle down the hallway towards the bathroom, dying for a shower. But then you hear a soft sound coming from the door behind you, like something’s sliding along the floor, and you freeze.

There’s an envelope laying in the entryway. Instinctively, you place a hand on the holster of your gun as you peer through the peephole. No one there. No one in the hallway, either, when you open your door. 

The envelope has your first name on it, nothing else. With careful fingers, you tear it open, and read the scrap of paper inside:

35.9285° N, 128.5774° E

Coordinates. To what location? 

You flip it over: 

I’ll be waiting.

You sink onto the couch, staring so intently at the words that you’re surprised the paper doesn’t burst into flames from the intensity of your gaze. 

It’s been five years with no word on Yoongi’s whereabouts. Once Jungkook finally knocked out Jimin and shot the door open, he’d found you lying on the floor, pretending to be unconscious. Yoongi had given up and fled the scene. The Bureau believed your story, likely helped by the fact that Yoongi had left behind his safe and all the secrets it contained. His empire crumbled.

Even though Yoongi’d evaded your capture, you were hailed as the hero of the day and moved on to the next case. And the next, and the next. Days turned into months turned into years. 

Once the mission was over, you never brought it up again. Occasionally, Jungkook or Seokjin would try to get you to talk. But you simply told them that you had nothing to say. The case was closed. 

(To say nothing of your heart.) 

And yet… it wasn’t entirely true. If you’d chosen to talk to your friends, you might have told them that you still found yourself thinking about it from time to time. About Yoongi. And where he was. That sometimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d scour countless resources, searching for him. Yet no matter how much you looked, you never found a single sign.

Until, maybe, now. You glance at the paper, and it dawns on you what it really is.

A key. 

…

You rise to your feet.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

#bts x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfic #btshoneyhive #bangtantheatrenet #thebtswritersclub #bad cop!au #fic: ashes falling #possumswrite

[journalsouppe]

Professor Layton and the Spectre’s Call!! I actually discovered ordering the game from the UK with shipping was actually cheaper than ordering the American version of the game, there were no major differences that I could tell as they still had the original English voice actors.

I enjoyed this game!! Not my top favorite installment but I still had a great time and loved the new characters. The puzzles were well designed and had nice scaled difficulty and the mini games were really neat too. The Eternal Diva references were so blatant lmfao but I’m excited for Miracle Mask! I was also super exhausted when writing the summary so sorry there’s so many errors and I use the word fun a million times ToT

The Descole and Tea sticker are from JordyDrawsMerch! All other stickers are from Daiso. Writing typed below!

Rating: 8.3

Played: Sp 2024

Port: DS on 3DS

Favorite? Y

Replayable? Y

Recommend? Y

Series: Professor Layton

Comments

Emmy and BABY LUKE!!

OH THANK GOD IT’S CHRISTOPHER ROBIN MILLER

Ngl im so excited to watch the anime, I love the animation sm

Oh Layton is not taking Claire’s death well at all

I love how animated the background now is!!

Beautiful music as always

Does Clark have the same VA as Dmitri lol

THE WORLD WILL END? Damn Luke

The specter looks like one of those little kingdom hearts guys

Luke’s been a LaytonMobile hater since day one lmao

Luke is especially funny in this game

Layton taking Luke to the black market is so wild

THE PUPPET PLAY IS ADORABLE

I’m going to fight aunt taffy

Ooo we get to play as Emmy

Holy shit Emmy

GIRL FROG

Emmy asking if Layton always pokes lamps he sees is making me think he physically touches everything the player taps

The convo with the meowing man???

CHELMEY AND BARTON

Based anti-cop npc

THE DYNAMITE WORKS LMAO

Is Hershel gonna get a cask of amantillado’d T^T

The canals are so pretty i like the design of misthallery

Oh i do not like the police chief

I LOVE YOU EMMYYY

Grosky is very funny

Omg the cliff death police cover up reminds me of killer frequency which i just watched a playthrough of

FUCK JAKES

Where’s phoenix when you need him

JAIL BREAK JAIL BREAK!!!

I love descole’s voice

YAAA LADDER VS STEP LADDER

NESSIE???

The story book stories and animations are so CUTE!!

I wonder if Naiya was added to the game to hit at the Eternal Diva

This kinda reminds me of a pokemon movie but I don’t remember which one it was

^^ it was pokemon heroes when latias and latios were caught ^^;

AN OCARINA!!!

Creepy fucking factory music ToT

Oh dear. I seem to have stepped on a hexagonal spanner

Descole always serving massive cunt

Woah the golden garden is beautiful

Ohh so that’s why Luke was fork life certified in plvspw

ZAMN T^T

THE WAY THE SPRITES WALK KILLS ME LOL

I really like these little episodes from others POVS! ^_^

Summary

This was such a fun origin story for Luke and Layton. Very much a classic Layton game with world ending machinery and gorgeous environment design. I really liked both Emmy and Descole, there’s a more serious undertone than with Don Paolo as the main villain (even though I do love Don Paolo). Emmy is amazing!! I was afraid she would be sidelined like Flora was but I’m glad to she stands her ground and does what she wants to do. I alos like how we got to go on our own adventure as her to London, she’s a character that doesn’t need to rely on Hershel to solve everything. Meeting Luke was great, loved his blank stare. It was fun seeing his origins and how Clark and Hershel knew each other. I’m curious how the prequels will play into the New World of Steam, especially now that Luke’s family have stories and sprites (unlike in the original trilogy). Loved the ACAB story, v nice to play while I’m still so mad at what’s happening to university students currently. Descole was so fun, I am obsessed with his outfit and personality. Unfortunately I was spoiled on who he is but I’m very excited to learn more. I think similar to Ace Attorney, the fourth installment is that last game in the classic 2D style, which is sad but PLvsPW makes me very hopeful about 3D Layton. The overall story was fun, I really liked the sub plot about the Ravens - that was really fun (i was so tired writing this omfg). I wish we got a little more backstory on the rich guy who died, I feel like there’s more to the story. OO I loved the little episodes, especially the one about Chelmey. They added a lot of fun context and gave more life to the NPCs. Such a fun and classic Layton game, I can’t wait to play Miracle Mask! (And read the light novels). This wasn’t my favorite Layton game but I still really loved it and had a great time and loved the puzzles — that’s all I want from PL!

#journal #journalsouppe #bullet journal #video game journal #professor layton #spectres call #last specter #professor layton and the spectres call #professor layton and the last specter

[imsodishy]

(prev) Part 3 (next)

The night Billy tracks Max to some weird fucking house in the woods isn’t so much a pressure release valve as it is a catastrophic failure of all systems.

It just builds all night. First his dad, with Susan fucking watching. Then he’s sent out into the night, starts at the Sinclair’s, because obviously. Smile politely, blink now, sound concerned, blink again, say thank you when they send him off to the Wheelers. Do it again, less polite, more flirtatious, match her energy, don’t chew through your own tongue and spit blood in her face. Go to the Byers.

And then Steve Harrington is there.

Billy’s desperate for that empty swell of nothing he gets sometimes. Grasping for it with his fingernails as Harrington lies right to his fucking face and Billy’s blood boils.

As Max refuses to just do what she’s supposed to for once, he can hear the high pitched whistle in his brain.

When Harrington tells him to get out, flat and even, like he’s right and Billy’s wrong for even being here,  Billy blows a fucking gasket. He blows all his gaskets. He can’t even see for all the steam that explodes outta him.

Then Max sticks him with a needle and there really is nothing for a good long while.

He's still kind of woozy when the Chief of police delivers them home. Susan ushers Max inside, Neil shakes the cop’s hand, a hearty, “Thank you, officer.”

Billy’s head feels stuffed with wool, he can’t hear himself as he yessirs and no sirs, the pair of them under the porch light. Can’t tell how he sounds, but he’s guessing not great judging by the pissed off slant of both their mustaches.

Whatever Max shot him up with keeps the rest of the night foggy. Silver linings.

He wakes up hurting. That big blank nothing inside him has finally showed up, a day late and a dollar short to keep him from making a mess, but better late than never he supposes.

He and Max are both grounded, but that means different things of course.

When Dad prompts him after the law is laid down Billy parrots, “Understood,” absolutely flat. He’s lucky Dad chooses to read it as contrite instead of flippant.

In the car Max keeps looking at him like she’s expecting something outta him, but he’s not sure what. She laid down the law too. It’s hazy but he knows damn well he conceded.

The Hawkins High rabble see Billy’s fucked up face and Harrington’s even more fucked up face and successfully put two and two together to make four. They needle and imply and outright ask in chorus, baby birds demanding to be fed. They want a story, any story will do, but Billy for once hasn’t actually bothered to come prepared. Even if he had he's got nothing in the tank to sell it.

It seems to take forever for them to notice that Billy’s not playing along. In the face of Billy’s, well, face, and his stony silence they pipe down, or slink away to make up their own stories without his input. The whispers are quick to turn mean. He and Steve both getting torn to shreds by the gears of the rumour mill.

He can’t bring himself to care.

It doesn’t take long before he can feel the scales of popularity tip out of his favor. Just a few too many days of being a bit too unpleasant and, just like that, the shine is off their California toy. They’ve spotted the defect. He didn’t even last a month.

The bruises fade, but the numbness persists.

At home Dad has gone from livid, to mad, to irritated, but Billy can sense they've hit the nadir and they’re already starting the climb back up the roller-coaster. Billy speaks when spoken to and Dad's fine with that up to a point, but this morning at breakfast he pointed at Billy with his fork and warned, “You had better be about done with this sulking, son.”

He hasn’t spoken to Max in three weeks. She’s gone from smug, to suspicious, to peeved. She stopped speaking to him in retaliation, but she only lasted three days. Now she huffs and puffs and tries to goad him into breaking too.

They’re both miserable in the chill as the days get colder. Even with the heaters going in the Camaro they keep they’re chins tucked into their collars. It’s not the most conducive environment for conversation anyway.

Climbing out of the passenger seat at the arcade Max leans back in to say, “Pick me up at six.”

They’re supposed to be home by six. Billy nods.

Max climbs back in and slams the door shut. “Seriously?” she demands, her eyes are wild and expectant.

It’s not him breaking, Billy just finally has something he can say to her, which, ironically is, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“How about, five thirty, shitbird, don’t be late!” she grumbles in a fairly insulting (though passable) imitation of his voice.

“And then?”

That pulls her up short, “What?”

“And then what would you say?”

She gapes at him for a minute before saying, “Kiss my ass,” and then she climbs back out of the car. Unclear if that’s what she’d say then or if it’s what she’s saying now. Both probably.

#dishy writes #these story chunks seem to be working for me right now *shrug* #billy hargrove #autistic billy hargrove #billy and max #neil hargrove #act like it fic

[little-diable]

The Assistant - Charlie Swan (smut)

Another day, another Charlie fic. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: (Y/n) is hired as Charlie's assistant, and even though he doesn't want an assistant, it doesn't take long for them to give in.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, swallowing, somewhat public sex, age gap (legal reader ofc)

Pairing: Charlie Swan x fem!reader (2.4k words)

“Charlie, you’ve got a second?” Charles called out to the man, eyes flickering from (y/n)’s features to the chief. The man had his eyes set on the file he was working on, slowly looking up from the paper. His dark eyes met hers, taking in her features before his slightly confused gaze finally wandered to the police officer. “That’s (y/n), your new assistant.”

“Assistant? I don’t need an assistant, Charles.” The chief’s voice was deep, rougher than (y/n) had expected. She seemingly grew tense next to Charles, eyes trying to find his to figure out why the man didn’t know of her new position. 

“Oh, c’mon, we’ve talked about this. You barely make it home before midnight, Charlie, we all know you’d like to spend more time with Bella, and (y/n) can help make that happen.” The chief’s gaze wandered back to (y/n)’s frame, studying the woman for a moment before a deep sigh rumbled through him. Slowly he raised his hand to point to the chair across from his, watching her move closer, all too hesitantly. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you weren’t involved in this.” She murmured her words, barely able to hold eye contact with the handsome chief. (Y/n) had lived in Forks for a while by now, was no stranger to chief Swan’s appearance, and yet she had never been able to speak to him like this, closer than ever before. He was handsome, undoubtedly so, had something almost mysterious to him that perfectly aligned with the aesthetic of Forks, the town surrounded by trees for miles on end. 

“Not your fault.” He closed his file and leaned back in his chair, reaching for his cup of coffee to buy himself some more time. “So, tell me, what did they hire you for?” 

“For everything you need me, basically. I’ll make your coffee, take notes, organise your cases and do all administrative stuff, so you can make it home by six.” (Y/n) didn’t comment on it, but the man seemed to grow uneasy at her mention of being able to make it home, awfully oblivious to his uncomfortableness of making it home to an empty house. It felt like he was living with a shadow, the memory of a daughter he rarely saw, since she barely parted from her boyfriend and his family, one with the ones Charlie didn’t quite trust. 

“Mhm, alright. I start my days at eight am, sharp, we don’t have much time for breaks.” She didn’t manage to stop her chuckles from bubbling out of her, interrupting him with her lips pulled into a smile as the chief studied her with a curious gaze. 

“Don’t worry about that, they’ve shared everything with me, I’ve got your routine written down in detail.” A hum rumbled through the man, and for a few seconds he stared at her, not saying much. She didn’t dare let her eyes wander, holding contact till he finally gave in. Charlie tried to reach for his empty coffee cup, but (y/n) was faster, hand darting out to grab ahold of the cup, leaving his office with a small “I’ll refill it for you”. 

And all Charlie could do was watch her disappear, unable to stop his chuckle from clawing through him, murmuring a soft “She’s good” to himself. 

—

“Grab yourself something to write.” Charlie moved past (y/n)’s table, putting on his jacket as he was walking towards his car, waiting for her to follow. 

She had been with him for about two weeks now, adapting to his routine, slowly but surely getting the man to open up. By now both were sharing their lunch breaks, exchanging stories and memories, learning more about one another. Charlie even shared some details about his home life, the daughter he barely saw, the boyfriend he didn’t really like and the uneasy feeling simmering deep inside of him. And (y/n) was right there, to listen, to try and help him with his fear, desperate to put a smile onto his thin lips. 

“Where are we going?” (Y/n) asked as Charlie started the car, taking turns left and right to make their way to their destination. Charlie had his dark eyes set on the road ahead, silently cursing the rain that started pouring, pitter pattering against his windows. 

“Something had killed most of James’ sheep.” For the past weeks Charlie had tried to figure out what was killing the animals around, adding more and more to the growing number with every passing day. The whole town was in on the hunt, trying to get rid of whatever kept them on their toes. “Do you have an umbrella?”

(Y/n) could only shake her head, not getting the chance to reply as Charlie had already parked the car and ripped his door open. He rounded the car, helping her out of it with his arm tightly slung around her waist and his jacket held over their heads. Her heart was racing, mind focusing on the tight grip he had on her, fingers buried in her skin. 

Both found shelter in the farmer’s barn, greeting the man who had been waiting for them. (Y/n) desperately tried to focus on the words the two men were exchanging, scribbling down whatever she could pick up, but her mind wouldn’t let her rest, eyes focused on Charlie, the chief that was still standing close to her, perhaps a tad bit too close. The scent of his cologne stuck to her, mixed with the scent of rain and coffee, a comforting mixture she found herself silently obsessing over. 

“(Y/n)?” Charlie murmured her name, ripping her out of a trance with a slight chuckle rumbling through him. “It’s been a long day, huh?”

Heat flushed through her as she murmured a small “Sorry”, hoping that she’d be able to stop her thoughts from wandering. “Alright, thank you for your time, James. I’ll call you if we find something, take care.” 

Once again Charlie slung his arm around her waist, guiding (y/n) back to the car, patiently waiting for her to get inside before he rounded the car. Heat blew from the aircon, hoping to warm her shuddering frame up. Charlie’s hand found her thigh, absentmindedly rubbing the soaked through fabric, oblivious to the way (y/n) grew tense, pupils dilating. 

“How about we’ll get you home, so you can change?” Their eyes met for a second, and with a nod thrown his way, (y/n) watched Charlie start the car, making his way back out of the forest. 

—

“Can I help you?” (Y/n)’s eyes met the ones of a girl a few years younger than her, taking in the features that unmistakably reminded her of Charlie. It took her a few moments to realise that Bella had found her way to the police station. “You must be Bella.”

“I’m looking for my dad.” With a nod shot Bella's way, (y/n) let her eyes wander towards Charlie’s frame, watching him through the window of his door. It took the man a moment to feel her eyes on him, shooting (y/n) a small smile before his gaze wandered towards Bella. 

“I’m almost finished, then we can head out for some lunch. Bells, that’s (y/n).” Heat flushed through her at the all too obvious gaze Bella shot her father, wondering what Charlie had told his daughter about her. 

“I only came by to tell you that I’ll have lunch with the Cullen’s today.” A knowing smile widened on Bella’s lips, eyes flickering towards (y/n) for a second before they found their way back to Charlie. An awkward tension began to rise between them, followed by a few moments of silence, before (y/n) decided to put an end to the situation, turning towards Charlie with a smile. 

“I’ll get you some lunch, same as always?” Charlie watched (y/n) reach for her bag, shooting Bella a small smile before she started to move towards the door. 

“Wait, I’ll drive with you, gotta make use of my lunch break.” 

---

“I don’t think you should drink coffee this late in the evening.” (Y/n) placed Charlie’s refilled cup down on his table, looking over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the file he was working on. It was way past 10 pm, the two were the only ones left at the station, and while Charlie tried to wrap his head around the new case, (y/n) found herself watching him from the chair across from his. 

“Mhm, you sound like Bella.” Her chuckles echoed through the office, forcing his eyes to meet hers for a second. Charlie couldn’t stop his grin from widening on his lips, averting his gaze before it’d get too obvious. “Come, look at that, tell me what you see.” 

(Y/n) moved closer once again, coming to a halt right next to Charlie, trying to focus on whatever he was pointing at. The blurry picture didn’t show much, a bunch of trees, nothing else her eyes could make out. She felt his heat radiating off him, standing closer to the man than she had intended, side brushing against his hand, making goosebumps rise on her skin. 

“I,” she had to clear her throat, eyes threatening to flicker towards Charlie. “It’s just trees.” (Y/n) tried to take a step back, but she found herself losing her balance, hand darting out to catch herself, and with a gasp rumbling through her, (y/n) ended up pressed against Charlie. For a few seconds neither Charlie nor (y/n) dared to move, but the second (y/n)’s gaze flickered down to his lips, she felt him move closer. 

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, eyes meeting his before Charlie closed the gap between them, giving into the pull both had felt for the past days. The kiss was rushed, fueled by their need, the urges and desires keeping them going, desperate to explore more of one another. Charlie pressed (y/n) against his table, parting from her for a second to ask a raspy “Are you sure?”.

“Fuck, yes, need you, Charlie, please.” With a satisfied hum rumbling through Charlie, he pushed her onto his table, nestling between her thighs. His lips found back to hers, moustache tickling her skin, while his hands worked on her blouse, tugging it over her head to gain access to her chest. (Y/n)’s moans filled the office, eyes fluttering close as she felt him fumble with her trousers, lips wandering down her throat to find her sweet spot. 

Her hands were trembling, toying with the buckle of his belt, needing to feel him in her hands, finally touching him like she had been dreaming of doing for the past weeks. The tension between them kept growing, threatening to push through them like a volcano erupting. She shuddered against him as she finally managed to free his cock, pumping him with shaking hands. 

(Y/n) let go of him to stand up, allowing Charlie to push her trousers down her legs before he turned her around and pushed her front back down on the table. Her hands found the edge of the table, clinging to it with her hands, needing to find something to hold onto. 

“There’s no going back after we do this, are you really sure about it?” Charlie had trouble wrapping his head around the fact that (y/n) wanted him as much as he wanted her, clinging to the mere thought of calling her his one day. “Need to hear you saying it, baby.” 

“Charlie, I’ll start screaming, if you don’t fuck me now.” A throaty laugh rumbled through the man, and with his hand finding her waist, he pushed into her from behind, groaning as her walls clenched around his cock. (Y/n)’s whimpers urged him on, pulling out only to thrust back into her tightness, groaning whenever her walls fluttered around him.

Their bodies met over and over again, guided by his rough thrusts and her moans, eyes rolling back into her head. (Y/n) squealed his name as he met her swollen spot, struggling to keep on breathing, already feeling her orgasm building up. 

“You feel so good, fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this since your first day ‘round here.” The confession left her moaning, teeth buried in her lower lip. (Y/n) struggled to reply, unable to form a full sentence, could only whimper his name. He slung one arm around her waist, hand finding her swollen bundle of nerves, thumb moving in circling motions.

Charlie kept staring at his cock, watching it disappear inside of her, coated in her arousal. Both were about to give in, trying to hold on, not wanting to end the moment just yet. Charlie’s hand wandered up her spine, pulling her from the table against his chest, leg raised with a hand guiding her thigh. 

“Fuck, Charlie, I’m-” her orgasm rocked through her without another warning, eyes squeezed shut, hand finding his forearm to claw her fingernails into his skin. He kept fucking her, forehead pressed against her shoulder to relish in the sensation, in the way her walls gripped his cock. 

He pulled out of her moment before he could cum, pumping himself with a deep groan roaring through the night. She sank to her knees with trembling limbs, eyes meeting his as she opened her mouth, tongue exposed to him. And with a heavy groan he came, releasing himself on her tongue, allowing (y/n) to taste him. 

“Here, I got you.” Charlie pulled her back to her feet, allowing (y/n) to rest against the table as both slowly redressed. Their eyes met again, and with a breathy chuckle rumbling through her, (y/n) pulled Charlie in for another kiss. 

#Charlie Swan smut #Charlie Swan imagine #twilight

[charlieswanswife]

Some headcanons with a rookie cop reader? Can't go wrong with the good old classic workplace romance stuff.

Office Romance

Headcanons

Mentioned age gap!

You were fresh out of the police academy having moved to a new town when you first met the Chief of Police, Charlie Swan

Aka your boss

Who was this hot grumpy old man by the way

Okay maybe not that old but definitely old enough that it was kinda noticeable

Like when you learned he had a teenage daughter back at home

Or when he’d have to ask every time you uttered any new slang term that was foreign to him

Which you were never shy to tease him about

After a while, friendly banter casually turned to light flirting—on your part of course

And Charlie had always meant to keep it cordial—honest

But it was growing increasingly difficult with those puns of yours and that damn smile you always seemed to carry with you

You were just too charming—although he would never admit it

Charlie’s the one that insists on keeping it on the down low at first—

Because you’re significantly younger than him AND a subordinate no less

If word got out the chief of police was dating a rookie it would not look good

Especially when gossip spreads faster than wildfire around the small town of Forks

So you often opt for little love notes to leave by his desk—hidden for only him to find

Or sneaking him an extra donut during lunchtime

PDA is a big NO for him during work hours

This one time you ended up kissing him at the end of the work day (alone in his office) which ended up in a lecture

Even though he replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days after

#team charlie #charlie swan #charlie swan x reader #my writing #twilight #twilight renaissance #charlie swan deserves better #headcanons #fluff #request

[leahclearwaterdefensesquad]

au idea i want to read a version of twilight where bella lives with charlie and only visits renée in az for like month over the summer (which would provide the same showcasing of renée's impulsive behavior) but bella would have a less tolerant attitude towards her since she wasn't raised by her and had a more stable upbringing with community ties in forks. and while she loves her mom - really she does - the thrill of visiting her mom eventually wore off over the years. bc as a child, it seemed like her mom would take her on these fun adventures that she didnt really do with charlie, but as she got older she realized her mom was just childish and she was put through a parentification process that she didn't have to go through as much with charlie (hint I said as much). she develops a bit of resentment for her mom, especially when she ends up having to sleep on the couch her first night visiting bc her mom turned 'her room' into a space for her latest hobby or her mom doesn't come home until like 2 in the morning after 'just a couple drinks with friends' and bella is only 14 at the time.

anyways back to my original point - so bella isn't the new girl that edward is suddenly infatuated with. the cullens come and while trying to settle into their new home and handle the town's curiosity of their family and rumors around the school, edward realizes he can't hear the thoughts of the chief of police's daughter. and so we don't get as much of this martyr-like attitude of i-moved-to-forks-so-my-mom-could-be-happy-with-her-new-husband that edward latches onto (as we see in midnight sun), which I believe she developed from living/dealing with her mom. bella's curiosity and sheer nosiness - esp when edward stops tyler's van from hitting her - definitely drives the plot tho. i just honestly want to see this version of bella - someone who doesn't desperately crave someone to take care of her the way the cullens would because she had more of her needs met in childhood - deal with the cullen mystery.

#twilight au idea #personal post

[welcometololaland]

IS THAT BILLY TYSOOOOOOOON??????!!!!!!!???????? 😱😱😱

No, Lemon. That is Charlie Swan, and I'm gonna let you in on a secret.

Charlie Swan is the Chief of Police from Forks, Washington. Due to no fault of his own, his daughter falls in love with a vampire and eventually becomes an immortal. This significant life change requires her to move towns every so often to avoid detection since she and her husband never age (and their random child who does age but also doesn't and is somehow fated to a werewolf like 25 years older than her...let's forget about that part). Maybe Charlie wants to go with her sometimes?

So, it was no surprise that "Billy Tyson" turned up in Austin, Texas. I know he'd allegedly been there for ages, but I DON'T BELIEVE IT. In fact, he's Charlie Swan by another name, concealing his identity by changing emergency services, growing a ratty beard. BUT WE KNOW. The penchant for plaid says it all.

(Ignore the fact that it would be very hard for Bella and Edward to live in Texas without sparkling constantly).

There's really no other explanation. Owen Strand should watch his back or Charlie I mean Billy is going to get his daughter or son in law to give him a little bitey bitey.

#Charlie Swan #Billy Burke #911 lone star #twilight #fandom theory #I DONT ACTUALLY BELIEVE THIS #THIS IS SARCASM ONLY #PLEASE DONT THINK IM AN IDIOT #Billy Tyson

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if, after dying at the end of Death Note, Light Yagami woke up in the body of Bella Swan just as she’s arriving in Forks?

"Ah, so this is Nothingness," Light muses to himself, having been told by Ryuk already that there is no afterlife for humans, that we each instead enter Mu, the great nothingness, and cease to exist. It's a lot more American and feminine than he expected.

Slowly, Light realizes he's actually been reincarnated. His ID tells him he's an American girl named Bella Swan, seventeen years old, from Phoenix Arizona. The year is also 2006, which oddly puts him back in time several years (Light died in 2010).

Even odder yet, he sees no signs of Kira, when Light was very much active during 2006 and had been for a few years by that point. While he knows Japan was very central to the Kira case, given it was confirmed he was in the Kanto region and thus likely Tokyo by L to the national public, America had been paying attention as had everyone else.

There wouldn't be no sign of him.

Light reluctantly has to conclude he's in a kind of parallel reality or perhaps a dream world (this dream world theory growing stronger when he learns that Bella Swan's father is the chief of police, who has similar qualities to his own father).

He's not sure how he feels about this.

Towards the end of his life he'd purposefully alienated himself from his family and then Kira had done the rest.

His father, who had always been a workaholic, became even more of one with the Kira case and then died believing Light was innocent.

Sayu was kidnapped by Mello and never the same afterwards.

His mother was left to deal with the aftermath of both his father's and now his own death. Leaving him to wonder, of course, what the task force decided to tell them of why Light didn't come home.

Now he's living someone else's life, and she's estranged from her family as well, having left the mother she'd always lived with and moving in with a father she appears to barely know.

"Am I being punished?" Light wonders to himself.

He gets to school and he's certain of it. There's some kind of yokai there, the Cullens, who look in their own way more inhuman than Ryuk. In Biology he's confronted by one and becomes certain it's intent on killing him when he has no access to any notebook and is in a much weaker, clumsier, body than he'd ever been in life.

When, however, instead of dying painfully he finds out Edward ran away...

Light finds himself mildly intrigued. Alright, this universe is annoying, his work was wiped away, he has no means of becoming Kira again, and it appears ayakashi/yokai/mononoke are pursuing him, but something here is happening and it could give him a clue as to what this world really is.

And Light finds himself playing a familiar game he played with many women before, charm Edward Cullen.

As Light's very quickly able to pinpoint what it is Edward wants in a woman, he avoids an untimely death, and canon proceeds unhindered until Light realizes. Oh no. This demon actually really does want a relationship with him while hungering for his blood. Light's read those folk stories.

Light takes the Paranoid Bella route until the Volturi alternative presents itself, and while hating the idea of being subservient to these warlords, he does appreciate the cause of murdering man eating demons and it gets him away from Edward.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #death note #death note meta #death note headcanon #light yagami #bella swan #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #meta #headcanon #opinion