Marvel X Male Reader Novels & Stories

My cousin, Tiffany Wilkinson, brought her new boyfriend, Isaac Lloyd, home for the first time. The dinner was going great, chatting and laughing like everything was perfect. Out of nowhere, Isaac locked eyes on me, his face lighting up with fake surprise as he practically shouted, "Wait, don't I know you from somewhere? Aren't you in that 'Elite Escort Group'?" He added, "I swear I saw your rate card in the group photos... It was only 200 dollars or something?" He slapped a hand over his mouth afterward, putting on this innocent act like he had just let something slip. The lively dining room went dead silent in an instant. My relatives' looks turned cold and judgmental, making me utterly uncomfortable all over. "He looks so decent on the outside, but he's actually doing that kind of thing behind closed doors." "You're such a disgrace to the Wilkinson family. Don't even tell people you're related to us from now on." Dad was so furious he slammed his wine glass down, and Mom sat there wiping away tears. I calmly dabbed my mouth with my napkin, then looked at Isaac with a knowing smirk. "Makes sense that I look familiar. I'm with the Vice Squad, and I just busted you in a sting operation last month!"

After undergoing a gallbladder removal surgery, I get discharged while having to hunch over in pain. In fact, I have to go home while attached to a surgical drainage bag. Before I even reach the front door, I hear Rayne Randall, my sister who's ten years younger than me, wailing at the top of her lungs. "Dad, there's a splinter in my finger! It hurts so much!" "Let me blow your booboo away for you, Ray. It won't hurt anymore once I'm done." As soon as I open the front door, I see my dad rolling his eyes at me. His previously happy disposition quickly morphs into an annoyed one. "Why are you home this late? It's just a small surgery, isn't it? Look at how much of a wuss you're being! Ray wants to have fish for dinner, so you'd better take your ass to the market and buy a fresh one for her!" My surgical wound hurts so much that I keep trembling in pain. I can barely move an inch. Having noticed that I'm not moving at all, he chucks a slipper at me right away. "Just go! What's with that gloomy look of yours? It's all thanks to you that our luck is gone! Every time I see a jinx like you walking around, I feel even unluckier!" As far as I remember, my dad keeps calling me a jinx who has ruined his family. Now that I've had a close brush with death, I don't want to keep living in this world like a pathetic loser. In that case, I might as well let everyone in this family have a real dose of my misfortune.

It was my girlfriend's birthday. I took her to my family's newly opened restaurant for dinner. Since we were planning to have cake later, the two of us ordered a single set meal that included a pizza and a plate of pasta. Smiling, I handed the menu to the waiter. He took it with a fake smile. I heard him calling us paupers under his breath. I frowned. "What did you just say?" The waiter froze for a second. He then put on another fake smile. "I said I'll have your order ready shortly." I snorted and replied fluently in the same language he'd used. "You just called us paupers."

When I go home for the holidays, I find out that my dad has installed a facial recognition machine at the front door. "You'll have to pay an entry fee of 50 thousand dollars. Will you be paying by card or payment code?" I thought my dad was joking at first. As I laugh, I attempt to walk through the front door while pushing my luggage forward. But my mom passes me a price list with an icy look. "That'll be 200 dollars for dragging stuff across the floor. You'll also be charged 1,000 dollars per hour for using up the air." I'm stunned by her words. "Mom, stop messing around already!" But when I walk into the house, I realize that the air inside has disappeared. Unable to breathe, my face soon turns bright red out of suffocation as I kneel down on the floor. My mom huffs coldly again. "If you want to live, then pay up!" With great difficulty, I dig out my phone and pay the fees. Once the transaction is done, I can feel air rushing through my nostrils and into my lungs. For a few moments, I pant heavily. As I stare at my cold-looking parents, I finally feel that something is off. So, I scramble up to my feet and rush for the door. But that's when I find out that the front door is already welded shut. There's a payment code pasted on the door as well as a message. "Exit fee. One million dollars."

Although I've bought my mom the golden bracelet that she's always wanted, she still looks glum. "Honestly speaking, you really know how to take advantage of others. Previously, Henry treated us to some pancakes, but you still haven't wired him your share of the money." While I have yet to register the meaning of Mom's words, my cheeks have already flared brightly out of embarrassment. Mom continues, "Even though you've taken good care of our family, you're not as caring as Henry at all. In fact, you're no different than that of a caretaker." I feel as though someone has dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on me. My mind keeps buzzing loudly the whole time. Mom just rolls her eyes at me before picking out a gold necklace so that she can put it on Henry's neck. "Give this necklace to Henry. Think of it as your way of making it up to him." At that moment, my love for my mother finally dissipates. Hence, I give the gold bracelet to my wife, Evelyn Gilbert. Then, I call the movers to move the new furniture into my home before having my mother's targeted medication discontinued.

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

My mother-in-law, Emerald Jones, had always loved to exaggerate. My wife’s wedding gift for me was worth 8,800 dollars, but my mother-in-law told everyone it was worth 880,000 dollars. We only looked at cars at a luxurious car dealership. But she went around saying she spent over 200,000 dollars to buy me one. I figured that I was going to spend my life with my wife, Emilia, so I put up with her. On the eve of our wedding, I had a small argument with my wife. She blurted out, “My family has to pay over a million dollars for me to marry you. What more do you want? “My wedding gift alone is 880,000 dollars. Anyone who doesn’t know better will think you’re living off a woman!” I was utterly disappointed. She was not directly involved in the discussion on the wedding gift. However, it was something both families had agreed on together. My wife actually believed her mother’s ridiculous remarks and assumed I had received an outrageously expensive wedding gift. After my mother-in-law transferred 1,000 dollars to me for the wedding banquet, she told everyone she had given me 100,000 dollars instead. So, I swapped the luxury wedding feast for instant noodles on the day of the banquet. In addition, I showed a looped display of her stingy transfer of money to my bank account for everyone to see.

I was holding my wife as we slept when her phone suddenly gave a special alert tone. “Rachel, my whole body hurts. Please help me…” The message was from Daniel. He sounded entitled, and he even attached a photo of his abs. My wife pushed me away at once. “Wait for me. I will head over right away.” I could not hold back my anger. “Where are you going? It’s the middle of the night, and you are going to see him? He’s your brother-in-law. Can’t you keep a bit of distance? “Your sister has been dead for half a year. Do you have to take care of him like this forever?” Rachel suddenly raised her hand and slapped me. “Sam, he has post-traumatic stress disorder. You already know that. I am his psychologist, so what is wrong with helping him? Why are your thoughts so filthy? “Forget it. I can’t talk sense into someone like you. Stay home and reflect on yourself.” After saying that, she did not look at me again. We had been married for five years. Every time we argued, she would walk away and give me the cold shoulder. She knew how much I loved her, so she hurt me without restraint. She was certain that I would ultimately give in and try to make peace. However, this time, I did not try to salvage the situation anymore. My heart was dead. I did not want her anymore.

My girlfriend, Elsa Smith, always avoided meeting my parents. Yet, she had no trouble turning around and playing the role of her ex-boyfriend Leo Quinn’s fiancée, happily meeting his relatives instead. And the meeting took place in the apartment I had prepared for us to live in after the wedding. What she did not realize was that I happened to be Leo’s distant cousin. She pretended not to know me and clung sweetly to Leo, saying, "This apartment was bought by my hubby, fully paid for." All the relatives were praising them as a loving couple. To keep me from exposing her, Elsa came over to warn me, "I’m just helping a friend deal with marriage pressure. If you mess this up, we’re done." So, I sincerely offered my congratulations. "Since Leo and I seem to have the same taste in houses and women, I’ve got some wedding supplies that I’m sure he’ll like. I’ll gift them to you both." That was when Elsa finally started to panic.

I had been dating Lily Foster for three years, and she strictly insisted on splitting every expense. When my mother needed surgery and I was short twenty thousand dollars, she looked troubled. “Aaron, we agreed on financial independence.” I went everywhere trying to borrow money, while she turned around and bought her brother a Ferrari outright. When I confronted her, she answered without a hint of guilt. “That’s my money. What does it have to do with you? “And besides, you’re a man. You can’t always expect a woman to support you, right?” Her brother drove the sports car right up in front of me, showing off. “My sister said it herself—your money is her money, but her money is still hers.” I laughed. Because just a moment ago, I had activated the “Malice Cashback” system. For every trace of hostility someone directed at me, I would receive a hundredfold cash return. Lily stood in front of me, frowning in disgust. “What are you laughing at? You look like an idiot.” [Ding! Received 20 hostility points from Lily Foster. Cashback of $2,000 has been credited.]