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salthusiast · 3 days ago
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Who you truly are
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Viltrumite Mark x Female Reader
Summary: When the Invincible variants arrived on Earth, you never expected to get involved. It’s not like you knew Invincible personally. What you didn’t know was that you’d ended up housing one of these variants, and you didn’t know for weeks. Basically Viltrumite Mark pretends to be the Mark you know.
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: None! Maybe some violence, but if you watched the show, it’s basically nothing. Maybe slight ooc? In my defense this guy is pretending to be another person though.
Quick A/N: Hey, this is actually my first post on Tumblr so sorry if the formatting is weird or anything. Let me know if you guys want a part 2 :D
Life was so much simpler when you didn’t know. Who knew that in a singular month, your life would change so much? You could lie and say that you expected it to happen, but again that'd be a lie. Hell, even now you can barely believe the course of events that went down.
Sometimes you think about how many others got hurt during the war and its aftermath. You were so oblivious. You think about how he spared you like he did.
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“Mark! Eve!” You call out, waving your hand to your friends across the hallway. Mark stops in his tracks, along with Eve.
Mark is more of your friend than Eve is, but you get along with her well. You walk purposefully to Mark, feeling like he may disappear if you take too long to get to him. It seems like he disappears all the time now.
“I haven’t seen you recently. Where have you been?” You approach him smiling.
Mark shares an indecipherable look with Eve, and chuckles awkwardly, “Around… You know, I’ve been busy with… stuff.” He says gesturing to his backpack. You raise an eyebrow seeing his backpack filled with books. 
“Studying? You? My, we really haven’t talked in a while. The last time we all hung out, you bailed halfway through.” You smile teasingly, not truly mad, but more concerned than anything.
He grimaces, “I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just been so hectic lately.” He looks over at Eve once again, she seems to empathize with whatever Mark is going through. You can’t help but feel… insignificant.
Mark was once one of your closest friends. What happened for them to grow so close? You can’t even bring yourself to be mad, Eve seems to understand him way more than you ever could.
Perhaps at one point, you would have felt different about that truth, but Mark as your friend is more important.
“Woah!” You chuckle, “It’s okay, really. I just want to make sure you aren’t, ya know, dead.” You smile, jokingly gesturing to your neck as if it was slit. He smiles and shakes his head, “Nope! Still kicking. I’ll be around for a while.” He glances at Eve, who seems to find what he said extra funny.
You laugh, “Yeah huh... Hey, I was wondering if you’d wanna hang out with us sometime soon. You, William, me, maybe one of my friends? Serena perhaps?” You raise a finger for each person you talk about. “Eve is free to join us too of course.” You smile at her, which she returns in good nature. 
Mark nods, “Yeah, I’ll make time for it. It’s been a minute since we’ve all hung out. Eve, would you wanna join?” Mark asks, turning to Eve.
“Sure. It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out as a group. I look forward to it.” She smiles at you. “I should be busy for a bit, but I’ll let you know when I’m free.”
You smile, “Great! That works for me!” You start to walk off before you stop abruptly and turn around. “You know we’re always here right?” You look at Mark and glance at Eve. He smiles back, but it looks more like a grimace. 
”Of course.” Suddenly he stands up straight. “Oh shoot I gotta go.” He announces before looking at Eve silently expressing… something? 
“No worries, see you guys…” They’re already speeding off to who knows where. They certainly have a mission in mind. They weren’t that rushed five minutes ago. Could whatever Mark forgot be that important?
(You didn’t know it at the time, but the reason he left was actually important. You later found out the reason on TV, even if you weren't aware it was him under the suit.)
“Hey, did you see what happened on the news?” Your friend, Serena, asks you later that day back in your apartment. She would often come over after classes to hang out.
You raise an eyebrow shaking your head, “No? Why? Anything interesting?” You sit down on the couch, leaning your head on the back as you respond.
“Somebody was trying to get Invincible’s attention earlier. He was talking for ages. Was claiming that he was the one who killed all those people in Chicago. I don’t know, he definitely has some issues he needs to sort out.” She waves a hand dismissively. 
That catches your attention, “Really that happened today? How’d I miss that? Wait, he was mad that Invincible ‘killed those people,’ but he is trying to kill people to get his attention?” You ask, doing air quotes as you say “killed those people.” 
“I’m not sure, it mainly just seemed like he wanted Invincible. I don’t know, I stopped questioning these villains a while ago. I only know the bare details.” She sighs.
You nod in agreement, “Fair enough.” You search for the remote and find it between the couch before turning on the TV. Perhaps this story is on the news?  
“ . . . just in! The newest villain, going by the name “Powerplex” has been arrested. Invincible was there to stop him this time, but that did not come without a cost. There were two casualties during this specific attack by him, not even counting his other attacks during this week. The casualties of this attack were his wife and child, who were electrocuted to death. It appears he took them hostage to get Invincible’s attention. You will all be happy to know that he has been arrested. . .” 
“That’s awful.” You frown. “Can’t believe he brought his wife and kids into it. That’s such a cruel thing to do… You think she knew what she was getting into with him?” You ask, turning toward Serena. 
“I mean maybe he was just a good actor? Perhaps he was able to blend in for a while?” Your friend throws out suggestions. “She could’ve also known though. Not that it’s my business. We’ll never know, and I don’t think I want to know.” She sighs before standing up.
“It’s horrific in either scenario. Imagine living with somebody for that long and not truly knowing who they are.” Serena chuckles, but there is no humor. You both stare at the TV screen, watching as the reporter drones on about the details.
“I think I’m going to head back home.” Serena stands up, grabbing her keys and swinging them in her hand. You nod, “Okay, drive home safe… Don’t get electrocuted.” You give her a thumbs up and smile. Is it wrong to joke about events like this? Probably, but if you don’t laugh you cry so…
She gives you an unamused expression “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” She rolls her eyes good-naturedly,  “I’ll see you later.” You wave as she walks out, turning your attention back to the TV. 
You have no connection to Invincible or any of that “superhero” life. The idea of superheroes excites you, but after seeing what occurred in Chicago, you can’t help but feel like it’s not all it’s made out to be.
It’s not like you’d be able to help. You’d end up as a casualty, another body to clean off the field. The thought makes you shiver.
Every time you see a story like this you wonder if there is a universe where it was you that died. It’s easy to just brush these events off like nothing when you aren’t living them.
That was how most people do it nowadays. Doesn’t affect you? Not your problem. It was a frustrating way to live. You didn’t like to think about how people are dying every day due to these villains.
However, you can’t not think about them. Hearing about this whole situation with, what’s his name, Powerplex? It creates this feeling of dread, a feeling you’re unable to ease. Who is to say that you aren’t going to be the next casualty mentioned on the news?
It truly was easy for the whole world to live in that ignorance. It was easier for you to live in ignorance, then they appeared.
--------------------------
DAY ONE
Honestly, the first day wasn’t that eventful for you. It wasn’t until the late evening you even heard about it.
You didn’t live in an area that was immediately affected by the attacks, so it wasn’t as if your apartment suddenly came crashing down on you. Instead, you got a call from Serena. You raise an eyebrow before picking up the phone. 
“Uh hey?” You wonder why she called you, it wasn’t like you got calls often.
”Oh my God, you’re okay.” She breathes out in relief, and now you know something is up. “Please tell me you’ve seen the news.” Her voice is filled with worry.
You stop moving, “No… You know I don’t check the news that often.” You respond. Admittedly, that's on you. You probably should keep up with the news more often.  
She sighs, “Turn it on. There’s like over a dozen Invincibles out destroying major world cities.” You feel your heart drop before immediately moving to your TV and turning it on. You switch to the news.
No words are being spoken, they don’t have to. The screams of panic strike fear into your heart.
The camera shows a gigantic building in Chicago crumbling down. The cameraman focuses their lens on the figure floating above it all. Whoever it is, they’re wearing a white uniform.
The camera isn’t advanced enough to zoom in on their face, but you don’t find yourself doubting Serena’s information. Suddenly a white blur knocks the camera away, and it fades into static. You watch in horror. 
“Oh shit…” You whisper to yourself, forgetting that you are still on the phone. 
“It’s being recommended that we don’t exit our homes. We just pretend like nobody is home.” Serena’s words barely register, but you nod, forgetting that she can’t see your visual response.
“Okay… So we just sit here until they leave?” You ask, feeling stupid for asking the question. What else could you do? Fight them? You’d sooner kill a bear with your bare hands than somehow survive facing off one of them. 
The silence between you two is loud, “Not like we have any other choice.”
--------------------------
DAY TWO
By this point, you had been living in relative darkness for a little over a day. Serena sent you a link to an article advising citizens what to do: keep the lights off, and stay away from windows. You don’t want them to know you’re there. You had occasionally gone to get some food and drinks from the kitchen, but besides that, you were pretty much locked in your room.
The small peeks you took of the outside world showed promise. Realistically, the chances of one of the variants coming to your suburban neighborhood to wreak havoc aren’t high.
You close the curtains and look away from the window. To be fair, they also aren’t zero.
After being bored and doing nothing for over a day, you were instantly aware when something changed in your environment. You felt your heart stop for a moment. It sounded like somebody entered your apartment. 
You remain frozen as you try and listen for any more signs of life outside your room. Eventually, you hear something. A voice calling your name, whoever it is sounds familiar. However, that doesn’t mean you’ll come running out. You don’t respond immediately, sitting there in silence and fear, slowly inching towards the closet to hide.
On the way, you pass by your door, which was slightly cracked open. The intruder could walk in whenever they wanted. It wasn’t the most brilliant move you’ve made, but it wasn’t like you were expecting guests okay?
Your eyes widen as you take in who it is. “Mark?” You push the door open hesitantly. His attention immediately snaps to you. “What are you doing here?” You ask, exhaling slowly and calming your pounding heartbeat. 
He stares at you stoically, before walking over to you, his steps are unhurried. Suddenly you realize that he left the door open behind him. You feel your heart rate spike up again. 
“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU!?” You whisper yell as you push past him to the door. You accidentally bump your shoulder onto his while walking by, causing him to halt and falter in surprise.
”How did you get in? I thought you said you lost that emergency key I gave you.” You lock the door and turn to him again. He observes you silently.
“I found it.” He responds, tone even. 
“Well yes, I kinda assumed that.” You respond dryly before feeling the anger leave your body.
“Hey…” You place your hand on his shoulder and he stiffens. “Are you okay? Did one of those variants attack you or your mom?” He finally looks you in the eye for the first time since he unexpectedly entered. His stare is piercing, it feels like he’s looking at your entire soul. 
He pauses for a moment before answering, “They came through and destroyed my house.” His voice sounds detached like he’s somewhere else right now.
You feel your eyes widen and your heart drops, “Oh my God, is your mom okay?!” You guide Mark back to your room, he seems to follow with no resistance. You sit on the floor, but he remains standing.
“She’s fine. She wasn’t there.” He responds, and you breathe a sigh of relief. 
“That’s good… I mean not good that your house was destroyed, but good that she got out of there. I mean have you seen the damage that these Invincibles have done?” Mark looks at you like he’s expecting something, and you feel slightly unnerved. Maybe he’s in shock? You can’t exactly blame him. You do feel kinda awkward though. How exactly do you comfort somebody who just had their home destroyed and almost had their mom killed?
“I was watching the news when it started, there was this one I saw. I think it was Chicago he hit?” Mark freezes slightly, his eyes narrowing in on you, but you don’t notice.
“It was crazy… He didn’t look like Invincible at all. However, judging by how many of the other attackers look like Invincible, I want to say that this one was probably some weird Invincible variant in white.” Mark gives you a weird look.
“What’s wrong? Still worried? Don’t worry we should be safe here. I don’t see why an Invincible variant would attack me. I don’t even know who is under that mask. We’ll be safe here if you wanna stay until it’s over.” You feel like you’re talking too much at this point, so you stop before you embarrass yourself more than you already have. 
“So I can stay.” Mark eventually speaks, getting your attention. The phrase is less of a question, and more of a statement, like he needs you to reaffirm what you already said.
You nod, “Of course, stay as long as you need.” You smile at him. Mark stares down at you before nodding and sitting right next to you on the floor. 
You raise an eyebrow, “You know you can sit on my bed right? You don’t have to sit on the floor.” He looks at you and slowly nods. 
“Right…” He sounds hesitant, but eventually stands up walking over to your bed. He sits down on it and looks back at you. He stares at you expectantly. You feel scrutinized under his gaze.
"Uh, is there something on my face?" You ask. He continues to stare at you before he looks away.
"You look different." Well okay then. Is that an insult or compliment?
“Uhh, I don’t exactly look much different than the last time I saw you. Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight.” You joke. He looks at you like you’re stupid. “Hey don’t give me that. Come on wanna play a game or something? I’ve been bored out of my mind here.”  You stand up stretching.
“A game…” He repeats dryly. “What ‘game’ would you wanna play?” He asks.
You hold your hand out giving him the “wait” gesture. He watches as you search around your room before finally finding what you're looking for. “Here we go!” You show him your deck of Uno cards. 
“Uno?” Mark responds confused. “You want to play this... ‘Uno?’” He gestures to the cards. You raise an eyebrow looking back at the cards.
”Yes…? Something wrong with that? I only have the original one if that’s what you’re upset about. Couldn’t find the Seance Dog version, I must've lost it.” You sit next to him starting to shuffle the cards.
”That’s not the problem…” Mark starts to sound unsure looking at the deck of cards. ”Do you perhaps have its original packaging?” He asks. 
You blink in confusion, “No, why?” You start giving him his cards.
”I just need to see its instructions.” He looks at the cards blankly.
You sigh, “No, stacking plus twos and plus fours is not in the rules. Yes, we will play with it anyway.”
You give yourself your cards before setting the giant stack down and flipping over the first card, it’s a green four. “I’ll go first.” You place a green seven down.
Mark stares at the cards, before looking up at you. He stares at his cards for half a minute. “You gonna play a card or are we just gonna sit here?” You joke. 
“Just…” He sounds frustrated, “Just give me a moment…” He looks at the cards. 
After another period of silence, you eventually break it, “Dude just place down a seven or green, please. Whatever strategy you’re thinking of, it clearly isn’t working.” You chuckle.
He looks at his cards before slowly placing a green five down. “Right… I was just planning something.” 
You immediately slam down a blue five. “Yeah sure, try all you want. You aren’t gonna win this time.”
He looks at you with the most serious look you’ve ever seen on his face, “I wouldn’t count on that.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
“HOW?! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” You point at the stack of cards in the middle, telling you to take 14 cards. 
“The rules are the rules. Take the cards.” Mark points to the deck of cards, his lips upturned slightly. 
You glare at him before smiling. That was the first time he’s "smiled" today. He’d been off all day, and if losing a game of Uno was what it took to cheer him up, it was a price to pay.
You both play a few more rounds before you get tired of losing. “Okay, you never win this much. Are you cheating?” You jokingly ask.
He scoffs, “Cheating? I don’t need to cheat to win.” He taunts holding his singular card in plain view. The words "UNO" in the back taunt you for the seventh time. The trace of a smile is gone from his face, but you can see the mirth in his eyes. 
“Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while you can.” You sigh placing down your only play. You look up at him, and he stares at you for a long moment.
“You know dramatically holding out your move doesn’t make you mysterious. Just draw more cards, I know you don’t have a yellow or two.” You roll your eyes. 
He looks at his card and sighs in the most contrived manner possible, a stark contrast to the serious demeanor he had when entering the apartment. “You’re right. I don’t have either…” He places his last card down, a wild.
You look at him blankly, he returns the stare with a smugness he didn’t previously have. You place your cards down before walking out into the kitchen, Mark follows you. “What are you doing?” He asks, the smug tone gone. 
“I'm gonna sacrifice myself to those variants running around, that fate might be better than having a seven-time losing streak.” You respond sarcastically.
“You know what,” You point out to the window, “at least I would beat them in Uno.” You say referring to the Invincibles out destroying the world.
Mark looks at you, then at the window, then back at you, “I doubt that.” 
You lean back on the counter dramatically, feigning offense, “Oh how you wound me! I think I could beat their asses in Uno! I bet at least one of them doesn’t even know how to play it!” 
“I’m sure.” He replies, there seems to be amusement in his voice, but you can’t imagine why. 
“Hey, I beat you in Uno all the time. Consider this your lucky day.” You grab a bag of chips. “I was going easy on you today.” You say before you begin grabbing chips out of the bag. “Want some?”
Mark looks at the bag, his face turning to a grimace, “I’ll… pass.” You shrug and continue snacking before putting the bag away.
”Suit yourself. Feel free to eat whatever I have, just don’t eat it all.” You gesture toward your pantry, his gaze following the direction you point. 
You start to walk away, “Where are you going?” He asks as you pause.
”Pillows? Blankets? I need to grab some extra for myself. You can take my bed.” You look into one of your cabinets, grabbing an extra couple of pillows and a blanket. 
“Is it not your bed though?” Mark asks, frowning.
”Well, yeah, but you’re my friend and my guest.” You smile walking towards your room, and he follows behind you. “I mean with everything you’ve been through recently, I’d feel bad if I forced you to the floor.” Mark remains silent.
You start to create a pile of blankets on the floor, rearranging the pillows how you like them. Mark watches silently. 
“Hey, could you turn my TV on? Make sure it’s muted. As long as the lights aren’t flashing too bright on it I think we’ll be okay.” You ask Mark, he gives a hum of acknowledgment before heading back to the living room.
You finish setting up the makeshift bed before joining him. You look around making sure all the windows are closed and secure before joining him. 
“Oh my God…” You whisper as you watch different clips play out on the TV. These Invincible are destroying cities. You can only stare in shock, you watch as buildings topple over, skyscrapers crumble to the ground, citizens get buried under rubble, and nearby life burns.
What you saw that Invincible in Chicago do was a fraction of the damage.
Mark doesn’t say anything, and the initial glance you took towards him when you walked in reflects that indecipherable look once again. Who knows what he’s thinking? These monsters almost killed his family.
You look over to him to see if he’s watching, his gaze looks detached and uninterested. You turn back toward the TV. “I’m sorry…” You mutter, feeling his eyes turn toward the back of your head.
“For what?” He asks, and he sounds genuinely confused. “You didn’t do it.”
You look back at him, his eyes reflecting disbelief at an apology. “No, but I’m sorry it happened to you.” You look at the screen, showing the burning buildings. It feels like you can hear their screams despite the muted volume. 
He looks at you, not that you can see, as if you're a puzzle. “Why apologize for something you didn’t do? Seems pointless.” He asks.
You look at him, your eyes meeting again, “Sympathy, perhaps.”
--------------------------
DAY THREE
You open your eyes to the blinding light of your window. You blink the sleepiness away before processing that your window is OPEN.
You stand up quickly, tripping over your pillow before you reach to close the window and curtains. You look at your empty bed, perfectly made. 
”Mark?” You call out. You open your door to see him in the kitchen with a mug in hand, windows all open, and lights bright as day.
You gape for a minute before walking over and closing all of them. Once you close them, you turn off the lights, you can still see, but you will admit you kind of missed lighting like that. “What are you doing?!”
Mark looks at you, raising an eyebrow.
You gesture wildly to the house around you, “Uhh I don’t wanna burst your bubble, but we are not Invincible. What are you gonna do if one of those variants attacks us? The attack on your house proves that nobody is safe.”
Mark looks at you uninterested, “Nobody will attack this place.”
”You can’t guarantee that, Mark.” You respond exasperated. “If you could, you wouldn’t be here right now.” You frown as Mark stares at you stoically.
“Look, I’m sorry. I really don’t want to take this out on you, but it’s scary out there. I don’t want to be this paranoid, trust me, but I can never be too sure what will happen.” You sigh looking at him.
“Hell I mean, one of those Invincibles could kick that door down, and we’d be toast. I mean how many even are there?” You ramble.
“Sixteen total.” 
“Sixteen?! Damn.” You exhale in disbelief. “That’s sixteen different Invincibles who could essentially destroy the world. Wait, how’d you even know there are sixteen?” You ask.
Mark gestures lazily toward the TV. “Righttttt, that was a dumb question.” You sigh. Suddenly you pause that train of thought, “Wait, what happened to Eve?”
Mark takes a slow sip of his coffee, “Not sure.”
You frown in concern, “Have you had contact with anybody since they invaded?”
”Just you.” He takes another sip.
”Damn, that’s sad… Do we want to try and contact her?” You ask hesitantly. It doesn’t seem like he wants to talk about Eve.
He shrugs, “Lost my phone.”
You frown, “Oh… Do you wanna. . .” You look up at him, his eyes dead set on you. “You know what, never mind.” You make a mental note to check if you have Eve’s number later, and maybe ask what his whole attitude is about.
“Anyway, were you up long before I got up?” You ask, changing the subject. 
He shakes his head, “No.” He responds. 
“Okay good, I was worried I had slept in or something.” You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You pull it out and see that Serena sent you a new link, you’re so grateful that she keeps up with news better than you can.
”Hey it seems like the variants disappeared from the cities.” You casually mention, Mark looks up, suddenly interested. 
“Where did they go?” He asks. You shrug in response, reading the rest of the article. He walks over to try and read over your shoulder.
“It seems like they all left at roughly the same time, perhaps something called them. Maybe they have a ‘Boss Invincible’ or something.” You joke.
Mark chuckles humorlessly, “You think?”
“You don’t think that?” You retort, smiling.
“No, I mean you’re probably right.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “It just sounds strange.” He continues.
You nod understanding, “Yeah, but I mean what else could bring them together? They have to have a leader of some kind. This attack seems too coordinated to just be unplanned.” 
Mark sips his coffee loudly, “I guess.” It sounds like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. 
You feel your phone vibrate again. You check it and see a text from William. “Hey, William texted me! You’ll be glad to hear that he is okay.” You hear Mark hum in acknowledgment before opening the message. 
It’s safe. They’re gone for good.
You look at the text message surprised. You have multiple questions.
 
How do you know?
Just trust me on this, I know some people who work with the government. The Invincibles are gone. 
Mark notices your silence, “What is it?” He asks.
You turn towards him, “They’re gone gone. The Invincibles apparently vanished, completely. They didn’t just stop attacking the cities or get called away, they aren’t here anymore. They’re gone for good. ” This catches his attention. 
“Are you serious?” He asks. His eyebrows furrow, is he mad?
”...Yeah.” You pause before confirming. “Are you okay?” You walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He immediately tenses up.
“Hey, they’re gone. They can’t do any more damage. Everything will be okay.” You try to reassure him.
He looks down before relaxing. “They’re gone.” He repeats, you nod. “All of them?” He asks quietly, you nod. 
“All of them.”
--------------------------
“What do you mean they’re not all accounted for?” Cecil yells out walking down the hallway as one of the assistants follows closely.
“You mean to tell me that there is still one of those Marks out there?”
The assistant nods frantically, “We accounted for every single one that died, and the ones that were sent to that alternate dimension. There is still one here, and he’s not our Mark.”
Cecil stops walking, “Does Mark know?” He asks.
The assistant shakes their head, “No… We weren’t sure if we should tell him. I thought it was best to tell you first.”
Cecil nods in approval, “I’m glad you did… Do you know where he was last seen?”
“It was the Invincible that destroyed Chicago, he left after decimating that city. We aren’t entirely sure where he went. He could be on the other side of the globe, but we do know he hasn’t left the atmosphere.” The assistant replies.
"Good, we need to see if there’s a way to locate him. For all we know, he’s already aware that his counterparts have been banished. I can’t imagine he’d serve himself up on a silver platter for us to eliminate." Cecil starts walking towards Eve’s room, there’s a large chance Mark is still there. 
“He can’t hide for long, sir. We’ll find him.” The assistant follows closely behind him.
"Like you already said, he could be halfway across the globe. We can’t leave a threat like that lying around ready to strike whenever. We need whatever leverage we can get right now. If we make it public information that he’s wanted, he might just leave the planet."
"I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly feel safe knowing an evil version of Invincible is out there somewhere in the universe. We were unprepared for this attack, next time we’ll be ready." Cecil walks down the hall watching through the windows as more ReAnimen are being created. He continues to walk past them.
“There’s only one of him. We’ll bide our time. Keep me updated on any status updates on him. If you hear anything that sounds like Viltrumite sightings, I need to know as soon as possible. I will spare no expense, understand?”
”Yes, sir.”
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maliciouscottonball · 1 day ago
Text
Far Better Than Any Pill
Platonic Yandere! Ghost x GN! Barista! Reader
Wordcount: 3292
AN: I’m on a roll, babes. I love writing descent into madness oneshots. My dog is sitting on my lap, my blankets are warm, and the semester is over. Life is good. Another very grateful shoutout to @foolphenomenon for beta reading for me!!!
TW: Yandere behaviors, drugging, kidnapping, delusional loser man behavior, somewhat realism, mental health stuff but nothing in detail, mentions of the horrors of the service industry, an attempted mugging, violence, murder
♡♡♡
Simon didn’t know why he wanted a kid so badly. It didn’t make sense. His childhood was a nightmare, to say the least, and after seeing his mother’s marriage, he never wanted to get married either. He saw the men he went to bootcamp with settle down and start their own families and his heart burned with envy. He would go to team barbeques just to get to be around the chubby little babies that toddled around. The partners of his teammates always thought it was sweet that he was so good with kid and joked around about wishing he was always free for babysitting.
He stopped going to those barbecues after becoming a sergeant. It got to be too painful for him to see the others living the life that he dreamed of. He spoke to adoption agency after adoption agency during every single one of his days off and none of them would allow him to adopt from them. He knew why. He was a single man and his lifestyle wasn’t exactly conducive to having children. He was traumatized and was legally required to attend therapy. After an exceptionally bad mission, he was declared unfit for the field. He received a very generous pension but the one thing that he really had going for him was over.
He withdrew into himself after that. He only had his tiny shoebox apartment that he stayed in while he was on shore leave and it was awful. All he would do was dissociate, go to the gym, and take care of only his most basic needs like eating, drinking, and showering. He went to the store once per week and always got the exact same things. He knew how much he consumed and how much he needed to restock. It was the same every week.
Simon wasn’t really living and he knew that. He barely felt human. He was stagnating and he couldn’t get out of the pit that he was trapped in. He was on his way back to his apartment from the gym when something caught his eye. There was a tiny coffee shop with a “Grand Opening” sign in the window. The window panes were painted bright colors and he could see that the walls were covered in book filled shelves. The rich scent of hot coffee wafted out of the open doors, inviting him to come closer.
He hadn’t read something that wasn’t a bill or a report since… He couldn’t remember how long it had been. His guilty pleasure when he was younger was reading old classic novels. He used to have a small library of tattered paperbacks that he would drown himself in when things got bad and when his nightmares felt too real. He slowly walked towards the small shop while displaying an uncharacteristic hesitance. He stood in the doorway of the half filled shop before slowly getting in line. The coffee smelled divine and he’d be lying to himself if he said that his mouth wasn’t watering a bit. There were signs all over displaying the genres of the books on the shelves and advertising that customers could borrow any book they wanted.
He eventually got to the front of the line and peered down at the barista. You were smaller than him and had a chipper expression. Your face was shining with the excitement of starting a new job and it made him pause. You were young and happy. Your apron was quilted cotton fabric and it suited you. The pattern was a happy pastel floral and it made the cheerful look on your face look that much more sincere. He took a moment to read your name tag and was almost surprised when you spoke.
“Hi! What can I get started for you today?” You chirped in a cheery tone.
“I’ll have a black coffee, please.” He said quietly. His voice instinctively took on that gentle quality that it always did when he was speaking to a child. He had forgotten that it could do that.
“For here or to go?” You asked.
“For here.” He said in the same voice. There was no mistaking it. There was something about you that was just so… Childish. He couldn’t help himself.
“Great! Can I interest you in a pastry? You seem like the kind of guy that can appreciate a good strawberry danish. They’re my favorite.” You offered.
“Sure. I’ll take one of those.” He almost immediately said. He knew that being nice was your job. He knew that you were just trying to make a good impression on a customer but he couldn’t help but melt a bit for the first time in years when you mentioned liking the dessert.
“Wonderful! Can I get you anything else?” You asked.
“No.” He answered. He immediately regretted how harsh it sounded. A little thing like you shouldn’t have to deal with any sort of roughness or harshness. He felt like you were just too small for that.
You rang his order up and had him take a seat at one of the few empty tables after he paid while one of your coworkers made him his coffee. He sat for a few moments before grabbing a book that he had been eyeing for a little bit. It was an old hardcover copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. He flips it open and starts reading the first page. 
He was surprised. It was the first time that he had felt truly comfortable in ages. The cushioning on the chain helped calm the ache in his back that had been there since the beginning of his time in the military. The book was familiar and the smell of the coffee shop was delicious. The air was filled with the smell of coffee, tea, hot chocolate, and sweet baked goods. There was soft music playing in the background and the soft chatter of customers and employees made the atmosphere that much more cozy. The soft sound of footfalls caught his attention and he looked up to see you with his coffee and pastry.
“Oh, is that Frankenstein? I loved that one! I begged the boss to get that copy for the coffee shop. It’s the same version as the first edition. I liked it better than the later versions. There’s also a promotion going on. You get a free bookmark every time you come in this week. I hope you enjoy your order!” You babbled happily at him as you placed the food and drink on the table. You also put a bookmark next to his coffee. He looked over the bookmark, noting the whimsical art of the coffee shop and how it seemed just as bright and lively as you. He was pleasantly surprised to find that it helped to lift his spirits a bit. 
Over the next few weeks, he religiously visited the coffee shop and got the same coffee and whatever pastry you recommended. It made him happy and he liked being able to see you. You became less cheerful as time went on and the bags under your eyes got worse. He realized after a particularly eventful visit to the cafe that you were dealing with unpleasant customers and a grueling work schedule. You were there every day, after all. 
He decided to help. He was a scary guy and he was well aware of that. Instead of visiting after the gym, he started visiting a bit before the lunch rush. He would get his order with the addition of a sandwich and would simply read one of the books on the shelf while making sure that no one was rude to you. He gave unkind looks to customers that didn’t behave themselves and it easily cowed them into behaving. He was very pleased when you seemed less stressed and more chipper again.
He knew that you had a life outside of your job but he tried not to think about it after coming home from visiting you. He had recognized that he was making progress with going outside more. He would regularly go out of his apartment at least twice per day and he was starting to feel happy when he wasn’t with you. Granted, he was thinking about you, but he felt like it still counted for something. He had started cooking new things in order to have more things to chat about when he occasionally struck up a conversation with you. He was coming home from the gym again when your life outside of that little store truly came to his attention. 
He didn’t quite recognize what was going on at first. There was a group of people jostling around and he didn’t think much of it. He thought that it was just a gang of boys looking to make trouble until he heard a familiar voice. It was you. You were asking them, more like begging them, not to take your wallet or phone. He was looking over and finally saw your face from the other side of the street.
You were crying.
Oh, he hated that.
Nothing and nobody should ever make you cry. 
Not when you were the one thing making his life bearable. 
He ran across the empty street and immediately slammed one of the men onto the ground. He made quick work of all of them, systematically hitting each of the men in a way that left very noticeable and recognizable bruising on their faces. While he was busy smacking around the last one, the rest of them ran off. He was distracted by them running and took a few steps to make chase before being entirely blindsided.
You hugged him. 
You hugged Simon of all people.
You were still crying and he was so stunned that he just let the last man run off after the rest of the group.
It was fine. He would take care of them later. He had something significantly more important to handle at the moment.
He gently hugged you back and it was like a floor of dopamine straight to his brain. He had been on every antidepressant available on the market, plus a select few that weren’t, and none of them had any kind of effect like this. You were far better than any pill.
He finally coaxed a sob filled explanation out of you after hugging you and rubbing your back for about fifteen minutes. Your tears had soaked his hoodie but he didn’t mind. It was you, after all. You were walking home after work and the group had come out of nowhere. You were so scared, especially after they had threatened you. You were so scared that when he offered to walk you home, you accepted with no hesitation.
He carefully walked with an arm around your shoulders as if he was shielding you from the rest of the world. This felt good. Simon was in heaven. He didn’t know that this kind of human connection would feel so nice. He walked you the few miles to your apartment and politely declined when you offered to make him some coffee, making a lame joke about how he’d get some from you tomorrow during lunch.
Simon practically floated back to his own apartment. His heart felt full for the first time in a very, very long time. He decided to use an old notebook that he had gotten to record every positive experience that he had from now on. His life had a light in it and he wasn’t going to ignore that. He carefully scribbled down the date, the time, his experience, and how it made him feel in his terrible handwriting. He smiled as he looked down at the entry and tucked his new happiness journal under his pillow before falling asleep that night. 
He woke up in a much better mood than usual that morning. He couldn’t explain it but he was just so happy that you had relied on him for something. It was a similar feeling to when he would open a juice box for one of his friends’ kids or was given a poorly made drawing by one of them. He was actually happy and felt a bit of pride in himself. You trusted him to watch over you and keep you safe. He loved it.
That day during lunch, you were even friendlier with him than usual. Your smile was brighter and your laugh at his bad jokes was louder. You had such a warmth to you that he just basked in it. He made sure that you were okay after the incident the night before and then settled in to keep watch over the lunch rush and read his book. This would absolutely be going into his happiness  journal when he got home.
After lunch, Simon made a detour before going home. He had found the social media of the men that had attacked you the night before while he was eating breakfast. It wasn’t hard for him to find their locations and where they lived. It took him less than an hour to finish what he had started the night before but it took a while longer to dispose of the evidence. He was a professional. He may be retired but he isn’t out of practice and it felt good to do what he was skilled at.
He continued going to that little coffee shop and visiting you for months. You were adorable and he loved being one of your regulars. Over time, he learned all about you. At first, he was content to just enjoy the tidbits of information that you gave him while you two chatted but then he started getting greedy. He found your social media and learned about everything that you like and dislike. He learned everything that there was to know about you. It got to the point where he hacked into your phone to watch you through the camera when he got lonely. He loved seeing your concentrated expression when you searched up silly questions that he could easily answer for you if he were there with you. It helped him to justify the way that he saw you. You needed him to help you and take care of you. You couldn’t defend yourself and you certainly didn’t know enough to be able to take care of yourself. 
Every time he went to the little coffee shops you worked at, he felt an incredible sense of relief. He didn’t like how many shifts you had to take to keep a roof over your head but he liked that he got to see you every day. He still worried about your stress levels and safety and was trying to come up with a solution to the issue. One lunch, he realized that there was a very simple solution. 
He decided that the next step to helping you would be helping himself. He started looking at two bedroom houses in the countryside. He ended up buying one outright. Decades of doing the absolute bare minimum to keep his body healthy and alive helped his bank accounts get fat enough for it to not be as big of a deal as it should’ve been. He had it remodeled to make sure that it would be warm in the winter and cool in the summer. He had also started to pick out furniture and decorations for the rooms. It gave him a sense of purpose that he had never had before, not even in the military.
He had you tell him which decorations you liked better. He mentioned that it was for the child that he was going to adopt soon. You gushed over how you knew he would be a great father and how wonderful it was for him to give a kid a home. Simon just smiled and thanked you. You had no clue about what was happening and it was all the more reason to protect you. You didn’t even pick up on anything when you asked what the child looked like and he gave a vague description that matched you. You were just happy to help him choose paint colors and tell him which stuffed animals were cuter.
There was no warning when you woke up in a strangely familiar room. You went to bed in your own apartment and simply woke up somewhere else. You didn’t have a headache or any grogginess. There were no side effects to help you understand what had happened to you. You were just… Not in your apartment. You looked around the room and immediately began recognizing everything. The walls were the color that you recommended to Simon. The shelves were the type that you had recommended to him. The rug on the floor was the kind that he showed you while asking your opinion on it. Everything was just like you told him would be best for the kid he was adopting.
There was a set of clothes neatly laid out for you at the foot of your bed. They were colorful and exactly in your size. They weren’t anything crazy, just a soft cotton t-shirt and comfortable looking jeans. Your stomach filled with dread when you remember how you told him how much you didn’t like the trend of parents making all of their childrens’ toys, clothes, and homes beige and bland. You also remember talking about how natural fibers were better for the skin and how he should try to get more cotton and linen than polyester clothing for his kid. You remember his thoughtful nods as you look around the bright and happy room again.
You felt like throwing up. You were still in the pajamas that you had changed into the night before, thankfully. Nothing on you seemed amiss. You hesitantly get out of the bed and creep towards the windows. The sunlight streaming in through them makes the room glow in a comfortable light but you can’t focus on that. You try to open each one but they’re locked and you can tell by the thickness of the glass that you won’t be able to break through them. You stare outside and realize that you’re in the middle of nowhere. You can’t even signal for help. You take a few deep breaths before moving to the next logical choice.
You quickly and quietly walk to the door leading out of the room. You slowly turn the knob and, to your great surprise, it’s unlocked. You slowly open it and look around. The hallway ahead of you is clear and cozily decorated. You pause before tiptoeing your way through and glancing around. There’s a sizzling sound and you freeze. You take a few sniffs and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Blueberry pancakes. You’re smelling blueberry pancakes. You decide that you just need to keep going.
You try to sneak past the kitchen and living room but freeze again when you hear a hearty chuckle. You turn around to see Simon smiling kindly at you. It was weird. It was really, really weird. You stare up at the tall man and look terrified. He takes a few steps towards you and you flinch, prompting a frown from him. Once he reaches your side, he reaches out and gently starts guiding you back to the room that you woke up in. You seem confused that he’s being so soft with you but you’re not about to complain about it. Once you both reach the door, he finally speaks softly, as if he’s afraid that the harshness of his voice and accent is going to scare you even more.
“I’ll finish up breakfast for us, sweetheart. Get changed and I’ll set the table.”
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who-do-i-know-this-man · 1 day ago
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since this is where I got all my trans manga recommendations I figure I'll post this here. It's my first impressions after reading 1 volume of each.
Skip and Loafer: Pretty standard slice of life but I feel it's really well done. Each of the characters have strong and distinct personalities without coming off like caricatures. It's very laid back, based off the first chapter one might expect that it will do the "protagonist is the least popular student ever" trope but the story is smart enough to know that that's dumb. I also feel like the way the story has social webs is really cool. Even just from one volume it is super clear that every character has their own circle of friends that overlap with each other character's to various degrees. I would recommend this if you like a well done chill slice of life.
Last Gender: I have mixed feelings on this one. It kinda feels like a similar set up to Our Dreams at Dusk, which is one of my favorite manga. Both focus around people of various queer identities who frequent a specific place. But while ODaD has the main character, who serves as both a point of view and a connecting throughline to make it feel like the story is still progressing as we shift focuses. Last Gender does not have this. You would think the lady on the cover would be that but at least in volume 1 she's one of the least focused on characters. Instead the POV is constantly shifting to whichever character is being focused on. Also while ODaD focuses on a character or two + the main character each volume, Last Gender switches the focused character each CHAPTER. It has this weird format where each chapter is basically a character being like "I'm [name] and I'm [queer identity] here is a perspective." And then they meet person two who gives a different perspective and then said person two becomes the focus of next chapter. This leads to it feeling like a barely connected short stories where none of them have time to flesh out. It also leaves the central location to feel less like the lived in place of real community we are told it is, and more a place for exactly two people to talk to each other at a time. I'll try at least 1 more volume but if it continues this format I don't think I'll read further.
Welcome Back Alice: This is an odd one. So it's basically a love triangle between the main character, the girl he has a crush on, and the trans character who is being welcomed back (who is oddly named Kei and not Alice). What makes this odd is the character of Kei, who is such an incredibly strong and proactive character that she completely dominated the story. Almost the entire thing after she is welcomed back is her literally grabbing characters by the arm, dragging them places, doing things at them, and said other characters reacting. Now this isn't bad, it makes Kei a VERY interesting character, but I do hope future volumes give other characters any chances to show off their own personalities.
Just Like Mona Lisa: First thing I wanna mention about this book is the art is simply incredible. The limited use of color is so unique and striking that I literally made a post about it on my main the second I started the book. As for the story, it's another love triangle. And I'm gonna say now that my opinion of the story will depend a LOT on the ending. Because the setup is the world of this story has people born genderless, but around 12 they pick on and their body accommodates. The main character however is 18 and is still genderless. But they are confessed to twice on the same day, by both a male and female friend. The thing that makes me so wary is that the way they frame it is that the love interests basically have to compete to forcefem and forcemasc the main character since both of them want a hetero relationship. Now I HOPE that the story will acknowledge this as a character flaw of both of them, and their arcs will be about accepting the MC for who they are, but as of finishing the first volume it's unclear if that's the writer's intention. (I also of course hope for a poly ending since that is always the objectively best way to resolve a love triangle plot but that I would be less upset by it not happening).
Requiem of The Rose King: A lot sure did happen. I think I understood about 70% of it, but I may be high balling that number. This one I absolutely will need more than 1 volume to have any opinion of, I'm just putting it here for completeness. I am curious where it goes tho.
X-Gender: Our first autobiography; and honestly I felt it wasn't the best. With autobiographies I feel like the best of them have a clear vision of what to conclude. This could be of a certain topic of a certain theme (For some masterwork of autobiography I can not recommend enough the work of Zerocalcare, he has a show called Tear Along The Dotted Line and it is amazing. It will give you an idea of what I mean.) X gender does not do this. It feels much more like the author wrote whatever story they could think of when they wrote each chapter. There is no connecting throughline. There's literally a whole chapter where out of nowhere the author just explains to you stuff about periods, which while informative was not necessary for anything this book was going on about. Like the individual stores are interesting but it honestly feels more like a curated diary or a blog than a book.
The Bride Was A Boy: See this one gets it right. The author went into this wanting to tell the story of her transition and relationship to her husband, and keeps the stuff told relevant so that it feels like a cohesive book. The art is also so adorable, I'm honestly so disappointed that this author doesn't seem to have any other book (at least in english) because her art is just so cute. It's also the only book that was only 1 volume so I can recommend this one with certainty since I've read the whole thing.
Overall I would like to thank all of you who recommend these to me. I'll read at least another volume or two of even the ones I didn't like the best to see if they can turn me around, but quite a few of these I feel like I'm probably going to read all the way through. (oh also I know not all of the one's recommend to me are here, in particular ones I plan on reading online. I have most of these on my reading list still but I'm going through the many books I have checked out from the library first, so if I waited to make this post until I read those it would take quite a while)
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mrs-jamesbbarnes · 11 months ago
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Obsessed with the Colin/Benedict/Will/John friendship. None of us asked for this, but it’s everything we needed.
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cowboy-robooty · 2 months ago
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im not going to lie i have an illuminati type theory that fanfiction has gotten so fucking bad recently as yet another consequence of the pandemic
#because like we all know how the pandemic caused fandom and a lot of more geeky things to become more mainstream#at least in the US#and thats why fandoms are so fucking shite now because everybody isnt weird and cant handle weird shkt#and also everybody stopped having reading comprehension too because of the sudden rapid uptick in content creation and such#like u guys already know what im talking about#theres a reason why i havent seen an actual meme in years#like im talking a real meme. have you seen anything even remotely close to what a meme was like before the pandemic?#its honestly a real shame because i feel like now saying meme feels kind of cringey but it was something genuinely uniting and a wonderful#cultural thing online back then but also maybe thats just my nostalgia coming in since i was a kid back then#but yeah i think as another consequence fanfiction has become significantly worse#because i dont know maybe im looking in the wrong places maybe its a natural development of my taste becoming#more refined#but i feel like its impossible to find good fanfiction these days#like hetalia ao3 has been notorious for sticking out as the only fandom ever that somehow has so much fanfiction and none of it is good#because even when i was in the oukibo trenches i found some good shit in there that id memorize like bible scriptures#but now it kinda feels like every fandoms ao3 is like the hetalia ao3#i thought it was just my taste refining further until i found one good fanfiction recently and IT LIKE#ITS NOT EVEN THAT GOOD. BUT YOU KNOW HOW THERES THAT TYPE OF FANFIC THAT IS JUST#COMPETENTLY WRITTEN AND THE CHARACTERS ARE IN CHARACTER#ITS NOTHING BEAUTIFUL OR SOMETHING YOUD BE LIKE OHHH THIS SHOULD BE A FINE LITERATURE PUBLISHED BOOK#BUT ITS GOOD#ITS A GOOD STORY THAT FEELS LIKE IT WAS WRITTEN BY SOMEONE WHO WATCHED THE SHOW#AND HAS ALL THE BASIC NEEDS TO BE A COMPELLING READ#LIKE DAMN I HAVENT READ SOMETHING LIKE THAT IN FOREVER#bc a lot of good fanfiction isnt the 400k novels that are intense and beautiful#i love those but there can only be so many of them#the majority are these fics that are fun as hell to read and sometimes even stretch to be like 50k words. but they're definately not#intense beautiful prose. it's a fun story made by a fan who wanted to explore an idea or make some scenarios#and i can never find that shit anymore#its always page after page of the most asinine shit with not even the general aura/sprinkle of anything pertaining to the og source in sight
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fungi-maestro · 2 years ago
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Love love love #9 but I will probably hold off most commentary until I finish the next issue. I do think that this plot is pretty straightforward in terms of dissection that can be done, so my chatter will probably be low just because of that. It's a very direct issue.
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fingertipsmp3 · 16 days ago
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So this nail tech course says you can show up with zero experience but I can’t help but think no. I can’t
#they have courses around the country but the closest to me is like 40 miles away#and they start at 9am#so since the courses are held at hotels i think i’m just going to pick the cheapest hotel and stay in it for the length of the course#instead of commuting#which means i’m effectively doubling the price of the course by having to use accommodation#but getting my ass up at 7am to then commute an hour or so and then do stuff that requires fine motor skills#just doesn’t seem realistic to me. so i’d rather book a hotel room#especially since i don’t have a car and trains are expensive and unreliable#like if it were only a half hour’s drive i’d just deal with it and get the bus but the train is about as likely to strand me somewhere#as it is to deliver me to where i’m trying to get#not to mention ✨none of the train or bus stations are that close to the hotel✨ meaning i’m looking at long walks or taxi fairs every day#the classes end late too and trains to and from my town usually stop at like 8. at most#and i’m probably taking a course in july or august. it’ll be HOT#i don’t want to be on a train in the summer#i truly think they’re doing the courses at hotels so that people from further away can stay close by wherever the course is taking place#anyway i think i’ve picked one but i really feel i need to make sure i can like. do this stuff#i’m pretty good at painting mine and other people’s nails but i’ve never done extensions and i’m pitiful at nail art#i’ve never really given a pedicure either#i feel like i want to go get my nails done professionally to see what all goes on and then buy a basic nail kit and practice with it#even if i decide i won’t be able to do this stuff; i’ll probably use most of the kit anyway so it won’t be a waste of money#and i’ll save the money i would’ve otherwise invested in the nail tech course and hotel fees#personal
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tiger-moran · 1 year ago
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I went to update something on goodreads and there's this thing on there, 'Fresh Fantasy and Sci-Fi Recommendations for (Nearly) Every Kind of Reader'
And I feel like I am the reason they had to put (Nearly) in there
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ace-malarky · 1 year ago
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maybe I just pull tarot cards to plot out the shapeshifter wip huh
since it's not fucking giving me anything otherwise
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captainmoonlite · 2 years ago
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i am being so so normal rn*
*thinking about the way both cat and marwood are the children of fifth monarchists. the way that both end up tied to and having to care for older men whose minds are worn down by both age and time spent in prison. the way those same men become more extreme and show more hateful views towards women as time passes. the way both cat and elizabeth cromwell have absentee fathers who missed most of their adolescence and fled the country for entirely different reasons. the way neither of them found the place or trust to find what they had in common because they were too occupied keeping secrets and trying to protect themselves and their loved ones. the way that the recent wars and the religious/political divide they created has continued to linger and affects so many elements of so many people's lives
#marwood & lovett series#andrew taylor#the last protector has me INSANE#it feels so so different to the previous three books in tone and im not on board with all the decisions#e.g. hakesby's changes in temperament feel quite abrupt overall#but man just. its so frustrating. all that effort for those pearls and it's just WASTED#but i love how all the characters are acting in a way that makes sense for them even if you disagree with it. like cat is quite judgmental#and unforgiving#elizabeth is sly and is in part concealing her true feelings from cat in her eagerness to get the pearls and get her father#out of the country#and her frustration with her father's inability to provide#i am a little sus about the characterisation of richard tbh#like i think in the context that is being betrayed during his protectorship by his own uncle and brother in law (!!)#and i mean! there's even a line near the start about how richard is reluctant to trust people#and then suddenly he's completely in thrall of the duke. idk i just dont think he was that dumb or naive#but whatever. its fiction yknow.#i understand all of cat's feelings and anxieties but i feel rly sorry for the cromwells here. they basically are cursed#none of those accusations marwood made toward them at the end had any weight at all (especially since they were hushing up hakesby's death#and im pretty sure those pearls rightfully DID belong to the cromwells)#so it seemed more like a ploy to scare him into leaving and avoiding further trouble. which is fair#hakesby's death was also really sad : ( but he was so shitty to cat in this book#i have so much to say and no one to say this to. agony
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tyrantisterror · 1 year ago
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Who's your favorite of the classic universal monsters and why? (based solely on their portrayals in the universal movies, sequels and crossovers included, not their original book counterparts.)
The Wolf Man, because the character was both written and performed so well that he basically redefined what werewolves are in Western culture. None of the other Universal monsters can claim that impact, and since they never recast him, he also remains the most consistently well characterized and acted monster from film to film. Dracula and Frankenstein got their characters shaved down in sequel after sequel, but Lon Chaney Jr. made sure Larry Talbot was never less than his best.
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misserabella · 6 months ago
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@ entersandman 2
☆☆☆☆☆ (a film for two)
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summary; after lots of teasing, you finally tell spencer who you are and help him out with his ‘little’ problem.
cw; +18 minors dni, pure porn, teasing, praising, praise kink, sexting, spencer being a needy mess, mention of streams, sex toys, a lot of orgasms, media au!, semi-public sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), cum swallowing, spitting in spencer’s mouth, pillow humping (spencer), mommy kink, sub! spencer and dom! reader, sex calls, dirty nastyyyy talking, breeding kink, fingering (r receiving), so many pet names for spencer ‘cause he deserves them, face riding/use (spencer receiving), nipple play, nipple sucking, spencer cursing, reading being a smug little shit, hickeys, this is so explicit omg, chocking (spencer receiving), spencer talking dirty?!?
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an orgasm is a very human thing. and spencer has had many, many orgasms before. he lived basically off of having them. but none of them have been as good as the one he had while seeing the pictures and videos you’d sent him.
and he’s tried…
tried so hard…
a whole week. he’s been going live every night for a week. his arms is sore at this point, he swears it’ll hurt if he got hard again. and he had made so much money… it was stupid, but maybe it was because he had tried everything that week. everything to get an orgasm as good as the one you’d given him. he had used all his toys too; his fleshlight —into which he pumped his dick with abandon using his eidetic memory to remember the sound you made on your videos—, his vibrator —which he’s run up and down his cock and around the leaking tip—, his other vibrator that stimulated his prostate —the overstimulation made him a mess, but it wasn’t as good as your guidance and words—, her blowing masturbator — to imagine what your mouth would feel like—…
but of course… it didn’t work. and you hadn’t joined not even one of those lives. he looked like a kicked puppy on all of them out of camera, needing you to cum easier and well… better, harder.
@ entersandman
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@ entersandman; want your mouth on me. i can say please.
@ entersandman
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@ entersandman; where are you? i miss you…
it wasn’t fair. you couldn’t just... show him how good “sex” could feel and then leave him like that. he grew paranoid, watching everyone —female of course— in his classes in hopes of a sign, a slip, and needy, that too.
soooooooo needy.
@ entersandman
mommy please
please need you
you smirked at the new messages on your phone.
@ puredoll
can’t baby, you know i’m studying, not everyone is smart as you, my clever boy
@ entersandman
i’ll help you! just tell me who you are and we can study together!
you snickered and sent him a picture of your cleavage, since you were laying downwards on bed, reading your philosophy books.
@ puredoll
almost got me baby. but we both know that studying isn’t what you want.
spencer groaned, at the sight and at the feeling of his cock standing up, pretty and ready to go. he pouted, and thought about sending you a picture to try and get you with his puppy eyes, but ended up getting shy about the idea and gave up.
@ entersandman
you’re mean.
you couldn’t help but laugh when the notification of spencer’s new stream popped up.
toying with him was easy, but you too had needs, and were growing needy as well. you wanted him. so bad it almost hurt. and he was growing closer to finding out who you were since you couldn’t help but stare at him in class, lost in his beauty.
so, one day, you decided to make your move…
it was a sunny day, and you had opted to wear one of your best outfits, a white snug dress that laced up around your neck with golden sandals. your hair was up in a curly hairdo with little strands cupping your face and your makeup was done with a large eyeliner and glossy cherry lips. you looked amazing —like any other day— but you decided that today you wanted to notch it up one bit by applying your favorite scented body cream, repainting your toes and nails in white and spritzing your favorite and most precious perfume around your whole body.
then, you took your school purse and keys and left for the day.
you didn’t even need to find him, he came to you like as if god knew of your intentions. he looked pretty. with a blue shirt and tie, and brown trousers and shoes. preppy, nerdy, slim fingers sliding up the bridge of his nose his glasses. his hair was taimed, perfectly combed, and he was clinging onto his satchel like a little kid.
cute. you smiled and slowed your walking towards the class, so you could…
“oh. sorry. please go ahead.” he said as he almost bumped into you going pass the threshold and into the room.
you looked up at him and with a kind smile said. “thanks, pretty.” the last part was tinged in teasing, your lips curving more into a smirk now as you looked away and made your way inside, your perfume engulfing him as you passed by.
and he stood there, frozen. ‘cause not only a pretty girl had just called him pretty himself, but… “pretty”, what you always called him on streams and in your nightly chats. and that smirk…
he gulped. could it be? he looked inside and saw you watching him, curving your eyebrows as in ‘aren’t you gonna come inside?’
his feet moved alone, and before he could stop himself he was sitting right by your side.
“bold move, spencer.” you said, and he shook to the core.
spencer, spencer, spencer, spencer…
it was as if you were made to say his name.
“is it you?” he inquired, his eyes on your profile until you turned towards him with a playful frown.
“ ‘is it me’? who am i, spencer?” you were teasing him. of course you were. he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists on his thighs, his checks flushing, adam’s apple bobbing. he looked around, at the almost empty classroom. “what is it? you can’t say it?” he shook his head and you cooed. “aw, i thought better of you than this, spencer.”
he swallowed harshly and closed his eyes for a second before looking at you like a puppy.
“mommy.” he muttered and you smiled.
“good boy.” you praised him, and he had to swallow down a moan, it sounded better than he had imagined. you were better than he had imagined. you were beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking… you surely knew how to take his breath away.
“why… why now? why are you telling me now?” he inquired and you hummed.
“you aren’t happy?”
“no! of course not, it’s not that! it’s just…” you understood.
“well i was growing tired and… i really wanted to play with you.” you pouted, and reached for his cheek, caressing it. spencer swallowed again, and gripped his satchel over his legs. you smirked. “what are you hiding, huh?”
“nothing.”
“spence…” you warned and his cheeks got impossibly red.
“you know.”
“yeah, i know. but i want you to say it.” his whole neck flushed and his lips trembled. “come on, be a good boy.” you purred.
“you made me hard.” he explained and you smirked.
“aw, that easy? baby… someone’s needy, hm?” your hand came into his hair, and he hummed, almost moaned as you scratched at his scalp.
“you… you left me.”
“what do you mean baby?” you played with the little hairs on his nape.
“you didn’t enter my streams.” you cooed once again.
“i know. did you miss me?” he nodded. “you did, huh? what did you do on those streams, hm? tell mommy.” god. you couldn’t talk about this things in public, but again, there were two more people in the class since it still was early, and they were on the furthest seats ever on the back chatting away. there’s no way they could hear you. his eyes trailed over to them anxiously and your other hand fell to his thigh. he almost jumped out of his seat. “spence.”
“i… i played with my toys.” he quivered.
“played with your toys, huh?” he nodded, hair falling to his pretty eyes. “what kind of toys?” he gulped when your hand started to move up his inner thigh and below his satchel.
“my… vibrators.” you hummed.
“and did you cum?” he nodded. “was it good?” he shook his head this time. “why not?” you were now drawing circles with your thumb on his thigh and he was stuttering.
“you weren’t there.” you almost melted at his pout. you would give him anything if he played that move on you, by your reaction, spencer knew, and he was gonna take it to his advantage. “i missed you so much mommy…” suddenly someone shouted in the back and startled you. it was a shriek of joy.
‘the class got cancelled!!’
‘are you joking?’
‘nuh-huh! god i’m gonna go back to my house and sleep the rest of the day.’
you could hear the other couple chatting as they quickly gathered their things and left from the back exists in a hurry to get back into their beds.
it was as if god loved you. how else could you have gotten spencer alone… with you?
spencer suddenly felt as if he were being stalked by a predator by how your eyes changed. your hand moved up… up… up… until you were cupping his erection, and he let out the prettiest whimper you’ve ever heard.
“god, you sound prettier than through the screen…” you sighed.
“mommy…”
“what is it baby?” you started to touch him from over his pants, with your hand measuring his length. he was big…
“we can’t… we’re at school…” he whined, although his hips thrusted against your touch in need for more.
“you don’t seem too sure about that.” you smirked. “you’re so pretty, the prettiest boy ever. you know how badly i wanted to enter those streams and see you? but no. i had to go slow with you. well i’m tired of going slow. aren’t you, spence?” he nodded.
“yes, yes, god…”
you pushed his satchel aside. “wanna see you.” he nodded once again, and with desperate fingers struggled to open his pants, pulling from his clothes so his cock would slip free. you clicked your tongue at the sight of his reddened tip. “baby… look at you. doesn’t it hurt?” he nodded.
“i just couldn’t help it…” he cried out. he had touched himself raw. “every time i thought about you…” he flushed. you understood.
“i can’t touch you like this, it’ll hurt you.” you cooed and his puppy eyes came back.
“no! please! it won’t hurt i promise! i’ll be good!” he begged, and you shook your head. “please mommy please…” you sighed.
“i can’t use my hands…” you said, but smirked, there were other ways to make him cum. and you were good at them. his eyes almost popped out of their spheres when you got on your knees in front of him.
“oh god…” he whispered at the sight and the implication of what you were about to do.
“i’m about to ruin my lipstick, so you better behave, hm?” he quickly nodded, desperately even.
“i’ll behave mommy, i promise.”
“good boy, pretty.” you said, and took him in your hand. he moaned, his head falling backwards on his seat. “baby… i haven’t even started yet.” you chuckled.
“sorry, it’s just… i’ve thought so much about this…” he bit down on his botton lip and you let out another chuckle.
“you’re so cute…” and with that your tongue swiped a stroke across his red and raw head. your lips curved at the whimper that fell from his lips and just how quickly his hand came to the top of your head. you licked clean the beads of precum there with a hum. “taste so good baby… better than i imagined.”
“keep praising me and i’ll cum.” he whined breathlessly and you laughed, pumping him slowly from his base before taking him into your mouth with a little moan.
him and his praise kink…
you loved the heady taste, how thick and large he was, and how warm he felt in your mouth.
he wouldn’t stop leaking, and you started to suck, slowly taking more and more of him in your mouth with the bobs of your head. you thanked this was a secluded area and 1. the doors were all closed and 2. there were no cameras, ‘cause spencer wasn’t good at keeping quiet, and you’d kill anyone who saw the pretty faces he was making right now as you fucked him with your mouth.
“mommy…” he moaned, his back arching as you sped up. “fuck. feels so good mommy, so good… thank you, fuck, thank you…” he praised you, and you felt your core getting wetter than it already was. you too had a praise kink after all.
his hips started to thrust up and your hands left him to go to his hips and push him down on his seat.
“sorry, sorry mommy…” he cried as you popped him out of your mouth and hissed a ‘stay put’ at him.
“you’re gonna be good and take it, aren’t you pretty?” he nodded. “that’s my good boy.” you went back at him, licking him from base to tip before taking him back down your throat.
“oh my god…” he was a mess. but he was your mess. he hissed when you gave special attention to his head, licking and sucking harshly. but the pain only made the whole experience better. he was a gentleman, pushing the little strands of hair out of your face, but he was getting lost on the feeling of his impending orgasm. “mommy, i’m gonna…”
“you’re gonna cum for me?” you asked as you pumped him. he nodded, his tongue peeking to wet his lips.
“yes, yes mommy…”
“where do you wanna cum, hm pretty?” you inquired, sucking on his head.
he blushed. “can i…?” he stopped, stuttering.
“come on baby, be good and use your big words.”
“can i cum in your mouth?” his puppy eyes were back, his adam’s apple bobbing. you smiled.
“you wanna cum in my mouth? wanna fill me up and watch me swallow it all?” you haunted him and he nodded. “how do we ask for it?”
“please mommy, please… can i?” you hummed in thought, just to tease him, before nodding.
“yes, you can, baby.” he moaned, and you went back to taking him back in your throat, down to the base, almost choking. the feeling of your throat closing around him making him whimper and thrash.
“ah-ah-ah!” he hiccuped, voice airy and the grip of his hand tightening on your hair. his cock twitching inside your mouth, and with one last suck, he couldn’t hold it anymore. he let go with a high-pitched whimper, his mouth falling open in a silent moan as his head fell back and his neck got exposed to your hungry eyes. you swallowed everything he gave you as you continued bobbing your head to extend his orgasm.
once down from it, you popped him out of your mouth, licking your lips clean.
you looked up at him to watch his chest rising and heaving in breathless puffs of air.
“are you okay baby?” you inquired him, and he mindlessly nodded. you had just sucked him braindead. “that good, huh?” you smirked, and he nodded.
“so good, mommy. thank you.”
“aw… so polite…” you got up from your knees, but not before putting him back in his briefs. “open up.” you patted his lips and he followed your orders. you spat into it and he moaned, happily swallowing. “good boy.”“tastes good?” he nodded. “does it hurt, baby?” you patted his chest, your noses touching.
“no, mommy.” he shook his head.
“still. you’ve gotta take care of yourself baby, how else am i gonna have fun with you, mh?” he nodded. he was still breathless and with a fuzzy mind. “no more touching until you’re all better, understood?”
“understood.”
“atta boy.”
later that day spencer posted on his twitter.
@ entersandman
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@ entersandman; head so good i’d be losing mine
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after that spencer really did lose his mind.
you were serious about the “no touching”, but this. this was pure torture.
not only he could remember every little thing about your head, but you just looked so good everyday at school, and your messages, and your pictures… god… he was going crazy.
he needed to touch himself but he was supposed to be a good boy, so he couldn’t.
@ entersandman
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@ entersandman; i’m being a good boy i promise mommy
but he wanted to rub one out so badly…
“mommy…” he whimpered.
it was a late night friday. 2AM. and spencer was desperately and ridiculously grinding against his pillow. it had been a week since he had the feeling of your mouth around him. a whole week of teasing from your part. he was already healed. and so, oh so desperate.
he hadn’t cum in a week, and it was getting to his head. that’s how he found himself right were he was right now.
“that’s it baby, keep humping that pillow for me.”
you had been surprised by the incoming call. this late at night? it shouldn’t have been bad, but not spencer moaning and whimpering on the other end, what quickly turned you the fuck on.
“oh fuck…” he whined, his sweatpants being the perfect friction against his leaking cock.
“what are you thinking about, huh?”
“your mouth…” he sighed. “mommy please… let me touch myself, please…”
“mmmh… you sound so pretty begging for it, baby… it’s been long since you last did it, huh?”
“yes.” he whimpered.
“awww, poor baby.” you cooed and he groaned at the way his cock jumped. “you wanna touch yourself baby? you wanna cum?” he moaned as a positive. “but what if i want it for me, huh? all that pent up, heavy load of yours, hm?”
he almost came right that instant as he thrusted against the pillow.
“you want it?” he panted and you hummed. “where?”
“in my pussy.” spencer’s eyes rolled.
“oh my god.”
“so… are you sure you wanna waste it in your hand?”
“no, but…” he whined.
“but?”
“you’re not here…”
“so why don’t you come here?” his eyebrows perked up. “come to my place.”
“are you serious?” he questioned you, and you giggled.
“of course i am, it must have been so hard for you this week… you should come here and let me make you feel better.” you purred. he moaned.
“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.” he quickly babbled, and hung up.
you sent him your address as he quickly put on some clothes and took the keys to his car.
now you just had to wait.
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“mmmph!” your mouth was on his as soon as he stepped through the door, tongue swiping his lower lip for entrance. what little of his erection had gone down in the way was quickly back as you pushed into his mouth.
“you taste so good…” you whispered against his lips, his hands on your hips as he kissed you once again, desperately.
“need you…” he whined, his cock throbbing against your belly.
“you do, huh?” he nodded. “how much?”
“so much…”
“yeah?” your fingers trailed down his jaw, and he shivered.
“yeah.” he whispered against your lips.
“then show me.” without needing to tell him twice, his hands shot up to the sides of your face, pulling him for the wettest and neediest kiss someone had ever given you. he was pouring everything he had on it, and you moaned, melting against him as he guided you backwards.
“room?” he hummed between kisses.
“to the right.” you answered and squeaked when his big hands came down to your thighs and pulled you up, making you surround his hips. the two of you groaned at the feeling of his erection against your pussy, and you rocked your hips to feel more.
“fuck.”
he quickly made his way into the room, never straying from your lips and softly placing you onto your bed.
“mommy.” he whispered against your jaw as he kissed his way down to your neck.
“yeah, baby?”
“wanna eat your pussy.” he whispered against your skin, and you shivered.
“yeah? you wanna eat my pussy, honey?”
“yes, please.” he begged and you groaned, nodding. he whimpered at just the thought, his hands quickly followed yours to your shorts, pulling them off along with your underwear as you moved up the bed and him; down, kissing at the exposed skin on your stomach. you groaned at the feeling. you had thought so much about this…
he kissed at the skin of your hip, nibbling and sucking as he made his way in between your legs, pulling them over his shoulders.
“you’re so beautiful…” he groaned at the sight of you all spread out for him and glistening… “god i just can’t wait.” he whispered before diving in and licking a fat stroke up your slit with a moan, whimpering when you did too and your hands made their way into his hair and tugged.
“oh god, spencer…” he ate you out like a man starved, sucking at your clit before going back down to your entrance and plunging his tongue inside to slurp out your juices.
“so good, mommy, you taste so good…” he moaned, licking his lips before going back at it. you pulled at his hair, messing it all up as you rocked your pussy against his tongue, riding his face and pulling him closer. he was even louder than you were as he licked everything up.
one of his fingers caressed your entrance and your hips canted upwards, moaning as he pushed it inside.
“fuck, pretty. you’re so good at this… fuck me with your fingers baby.” you ordered and he complied, starting with the one already inside, pumping it in and out as he suckled at your clit. “just like that, good boy.” he whimpered and added another, curling them to hit your g spot. he wanted to make you feel good. he needed the praise. his hips rocked against the mattress as he fucked you with his fingers and licked your clit. “atta boy, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum…” your back arched. “gonna give you this pussy baby. gonna make you a fucking mess. want your load inside of me, fuck, spencer, fuck!” you could feel yourself reaching it, getting closer and closer and closer… “yes, yes, yes!!!!” you used his face as with a final suck and curl of his fingers you fell apart, your eyes rolling back. he moaned when he felt you squeezing his fingers, fucking you through it.
once you came down, he licked you clean. sucking his fingers inside his mouth with a moan.
“come here.” you ordered, pulling from his tee-shirt until he was in between your legs. “you did so good baby… ate me out so good…” you praised him, and he sighed, smiling. “now give me a taste, will you?” you purred, pulling down his bottom lip to open up his mouth as you guided him to yours, kissing him hungrily as you took off his top.
he whimpered, his tongue dancing with your own as you rolled the two of you over and sitting on his lap. “fuuuuck…” he moaned when you started to roll your hips against his.
“you’re so hard…” you bit down on your bottom lip, discarding your shirt. his eyes widened at the sight of your naked and exposed chest, his hands quickly going to your breasts and thumbs rolling your nipples. “i want you now.” you smirked, and he nodded, helping you get rid of the last piece of clothing that was on him, since he wasn’t wearing any underwear. “no underwear? someone came ready…” you smirked and he whined, being cut off by his own moan when your pussy made contact with his cock. your lips engulfed his length as you rocked your hips, lubing him up.
“you’re killing me.” he cried out, his dick twitching, head dribbling with precum.
“shhh… let me make you feel better, pretty.” you kissed his lips, taking him in your hand as you rose your hips and guided him to your entrance. “gonna fuck you so good spence… you’ll forget your own name.” you promised before you slowly sank down on him.
and spencer knew you were telling the truth, ‘cause just with the tip inside, his mind was blank.
“oh god, oh my god, jesus christ, fuck, shit…” you wanted to laugh at the indecent amount of words that were stumbling past his lips.
“aw come on baby, already?” you smirked. “it’s just the tip.” his hands were on your hips, fingertips pressing against your supple skin. “are you sure can you handle it?” you inquired but he didn’t answer, moaning as you lowered yourself just the slightest amount, taking another inch. “spencer.” you harshly called out his name.
“yes?” he dazedly replied, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. you could eat him up.
“i said. can. you. handle it?”
“yesyesyes, please mommy. i can. i promise.”
“good. don’t you dare cum until i tell you to.” you ordered before taking all of him in in a quick movement. his eyes rolled backwards and from his mouth erupted the most beautiful whimper you’ve ever heard.
“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
“sure, if you wanna call me that.” you shrugged, a smug smile on your lips as you started rolling your hips to adjust to his girth. “fuck, you’re stretching me out so good baby, so fucking big… a pretty boy with a pretty and big cock, you have it all don’t you?” he moaned, nodding at your words even if he hadn’t really processed them. he was trying his best not to burst.
come on, he hadn’t come in a week. a week in which you hadn’t stopped edging him. you had to know what you were doing to him. you just had to.
“don’t move, please.” he muttered, his dick twitching, he was gonna cum so hard.
“we haven’t even started yet…” you sighed, and he pouted. he wanted to make you feel good, but you had this effect on him in which he could cum with just one single touch. “i thought you could handle it…”
“i can! it’s just…” he saw you smirk. “god… you know what you do to me, you know.” you puckered your lips as you leaned closer to his own.
“that i drive you crazy?” you rolled your hips and he moaned, his grip tightening. “oh i know darling, i can feel it…” you whispered against his ear before your lips latched to his neck and your hips started to slightly move.
“you’re killing me.” he whimpered, and you hummed, sucking a pretty mark where you knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it. “don’t stop.” his hands wandered to your ass and helped you move more, slowly riding his cock.
you moaned when his tip kissed your cervix.
“fuck baby you’re so deep, can’t wait to feel you pump me full.” he moaned, and his hips subconsciously pumped upwards, making you laugh, although you almost squeaked. “oh you liked that, huh? like the idea or your cum inside me, pretty?” he nodded.
“yes, fuck, yes. want it all deep inside your pussy mommy.” you moaned, moving harder. the squelches of your wetness around his dick moving in and out of you filled your room, only turning the two of you more.
“yeah baby? want me round and pretty for you?” the idea almost made him cum and you noticed. one of your hands surrounded his neck. “answer me, baby.”
“yes,yes,yes.”
“good boy.” you started to ride him in earnest. his eyes fell to your jumping breasts and then his hands followed, rolling your nipples to stimulate you. your back arched. “that’s it, touch me pretty, touch my tits.” your hand tightened around his neck and his hips stuttered against yours. “you like it, hm? like my hand around your neck baby?” he nodded.
“harder.” he begged and your smile got wider.
“atta boy.” you complied and his moans increased in volume. “that’s it pretty, let me hear you.”
“mommy…” he whimpered. “i can’t, it feels so good…!”
“don’t you dare. i’ve just started playing with you.” he whined, but nodded, his muscles tensing as you went faster, your own moans spilling into the room. “fuck, such a good cock. love it. love your cock baby.” you praised him, and you felt it twitch. he rose to hold you, his hands back on your ass to drive you harder down on his cock until his tip was breaching your cervix and your eyes were rolling back.
you wouldn’t let him cum? fine. then he’ll make you cum first.
his mouth latched to your right nipple as his hips snapped up against yours.
“spencer!” you screamed in ecstasy.
“mommy, fuck, mommy.” he panted against your chest, moaning against your skin before his tongue would circle your nipples and suck.
“don’t stop. don’t stop, just like that.” you were surprised at his sudden change, but you weren’t gonna complain, not when he was fucking the lights out of you.
“it was made for me, mommy. your pussy was made for me. it takes me so good…” he was babbling, whimpering as you tugged on his hair. the two of you moved messily, taking from the other, giving at the same time. desperate. hungry. it was as if you two were in heat, lost on each other.
“fuck baby, i’m gonna cum. gonna cum all over your pretty cock.” you moaned, and he went harder, one of his hands surrounding your waist to keep you in place for his incessant thrusts and the other moving to your clit, drawing circles on it to push you closer. “fuck,fuck,fuck!!!!!” you screamed, your back arching as with a couple more thrusts your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, clenching down hard on his dick.
spencer whimpered, driving into you over and over again to fuck you through it, begging like crazy during it. “please mommy, can i cum? can i cum now? please let me cum, let me fill you up mommy.”
“yes pretty yes, fuck my pussy, pump me full of your cum. i want it in my womb.” his hips stuttered and with, one, two, three more pumps he was burying himself impossibly deeper, breaching your cervix and spilling into your womb with a moan.
you two continued to rock against the other to ride the high down until all that was left was pure bliss. you two flopped down against the bed, you on top of him as you tried catching your breaths.
“uh…” he tried, clearing his throat. he was out of words.
“yeah.” you nodded. “that was…”
“yeah.” he copied you. “wanna go again?” he asked after a beat, too eager to make you feel good again.
“yeah.” you muttered before devouring his lips.
[…]
months passed, and spencer was once again on one of his lives, shirtless, his stomach tied up in knots in nervousness. his adam’s apple bobber, his breath hitched as your fingers scratched his neck.
“hey you all, i have a surprise for you.” he said before an unknown figure slowly joined him on his bed, completely clad in lingerie. “this… is my girlfriend, and today… she’ll be joining me.” he stuttered as you pressed wet kisses to his neck and jaw.
“ready, pretty?” you inquired him, kissing his lips. and he nodded, puppy eyes staring at you. “good. cause i’m gonna fuck you dumb. and they are all gonna watch.”
☆☆☆☆☆
2K notes · View notes
newobsessionweekly · 1 year ago
Text
She's my wife
Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist
Tim Bradford x wife!reader Fandom: The Rookie
part 2
Summary: You are Tim's wife and join him to the station for the day, looking for a Metro recruit.
Fluff
A/N: I loooove this, I start to love writing fluff. Thank you for this request. I have so many ideas and I don't know where to start. Also, I'm looking forward to your requests. Thank you for your support and your feedback is more than welcomed and appreciated! Have a wonderful day, bubs and enjoy this story! Lots of love
Warnings: None, pure fluff, not proofread yet
Requested: Yes! Words: 3.8k Photo not mine, credits to the owner @renegadesstuff !
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The familiar scent of stale coffee and printer ink hits you as soon as you step through the doors of the station. It's been years since you last set foot in that place, but the memories come rushing back with startling clarity. The station hasn't changed much—it's still a hive of activity, with officers rushing to and fro, phones ringing off the hook, and the occasional burst of laughter echoing through the halls.
As you make your way through the bustling room, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. This place holds so many memories for you—the late nights spent poring over case files, the adrenaline-fueled chases through the city streets, the quiet moments of comradery with your fellow officers. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the memories are as vivid as ever.
You pause for a moment to take it all in, your gaze sweeping over the familiar surroundings. The bullpen, with its rows of desks and cluttered bulletin boards, holds a special place in your heart. It's where you once stood as a training officer, guiding rookies through their first days on the job.
Tim Bradford was your favorite and a handful from the start—a troubled rookie who struggled to follow orders and grasp the basics of the job. You remember the frustration of trying to teach him the ropes, the countless hours spent drilling him on the rookie book, only for him to push back and resist at every turn.
You remember the determination in Tim's eyes, the way he refused to give up even when the odds seemed stacked against him. And despite his rebellious nature, there was something about him—a spark of raw talent and an unwavering sense of loyalty—that set him apart from the rest.
But amidst the nostalgia, there's a sense of purpose driving you forward. You're here on official business, after all— you were sent there to find a new recruit to join Metro. And while part of you wishes you could stay lost in the memories of the past, another part knows that you have a job to do.
You're greeted by familiar faces at every turn. The joy radiating from your former colleagues as they see you again warms your heart, and you can't help but return their smiles with genuine affection.
Among the crowd, you notice Tim watching you from across the room, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. You shoot him a reassuring smile, silently promising to explain everything later.
Lucy stands beside Tim, a look of bewilderment on her face. "Who's that?" she whispers to Tim, nodding in your direction.
Tim's brow furrows for a moment as he studies you, then he turns back to Lucy with a shrug. "That's Y/N," he answers simply. "She works with Metro."
Lucy's eyes widen in surprise, her gaze darting back and forth between you and Tim. "What's she doing here?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.
Tim gives a nonchalant shrug, trying to downplay the situation. "No clue," he replies, though a hint of curiosity lingers in his tone. "Maybe she's just passing through."
As Tim watches you from across the room, a wave of warmth washes over him. Seeing you here, in the midst of his workplace, brings back a flood of memories—of late-night patrols, of shared laughter, of the bond you forged as rookie and TO. Despite the hustle and bustle of the station, his attention is drawn solely to you, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of your beauty.
It's an understatement that he adores you. He loves you with every breath, every heart beat and he couldn't get enough of you. Since you were recruited for Metro, he missed you every shift, longing for you to make his duties more bearable.
There's a softness in his eyes as he approaches, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Despite the secrecy surrounding your relationship, seeing you there fills him with a sense of comfort and belonging. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of the station, all that matters is the connection you share—a bond that transcends the boundaries of your professional lives.
"Hey there," he greets you warmly, "What are you doing here?"
Seeing him there, in his element, reminds you of the journey you've taken together—from a rookie and his training officer to partners in both crime and love.
You return Tim's smile with one of your own, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, you know, just thought I'd drop by and say hi," you reply casually, purposely avoiding his question. "How's your day been?"
There's a twinkle in your eye as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the love and understanding that binds you together. Despite the complexities of your situation, there's an unspoken agreement between you—a shared understanding of the sacrifices you've made for the sake of your relationship.
Tim chuckles at your playful evasion, rolling his eyes. "Smooth as always," he replies, though there's a hint of amusement in his tone. "But seriously, what are you doing here?"
You feign innocence, batting your eyelashes at Tim with exaggerated sweetness. "You know I can't tell you." you tease, knowing full well that your response will only fuel his curiosity further.
Tim lets out a mock sigh, shaking his head in amusement. "Fine, keep your secrets," he says with a playful grin. "But just remember, I know where you sleep at night."
You laugh at his playful threat, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Wouldn't dream of it," you reply with a wink, before turning your attention to Lucy, who's been watching the exchange with interest.
A curious expression played on her face as Tim takes the opportunity to introduce you. "Officer Chen, meet Y/N," he says, gesturing to you with a fond smile. "She's a pain in the ass sometimes, but if you ignore her, she's ok."
"Nice to meet you, Lucy," you say, your tone friendly and inviting as you offered Lucy a warm smile, extending your hand in greeting. "I've heard so much about you."
Lucy returns your smile, her curiosity piqued. "Nice to meet you," she replies, shaking your hand. "How do you know Tim, if you don't mind me asking?"
You glance at Tim with a mischievous twinkle in your eye, a playful smirk playing at your lips. "Oh, you know," you reply cryptically, earning a raised eyebrow from Tim. "We go way back. Let's just say he owes me a few favors."
Tim lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing full well that you're enjoying teasing him. "Don't listen to her, Chen," he says with a chuckle.
"You should listen to me if you want to survive him." you winked at his rookie " I created the monster and I'm the only one who knows how to defeat him."
Tim's eyebrows shoot up in mock indignation, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Hey now, watch it," he retorts, feigning offense. "I'll have you know, she doesn't need any help from you."
You laugh at Tim's exaggerated reaction, shooting him a knowing look. "Oh, I'm sure Lucy can handle herself just fine," you reply with a wink, earning a chuckle from Lucy.
"Wait–" the rookie began as realisation hits "You are Tim's TO?"
You glanced at your husband, smiling brightly as he put his grumpy expression on, "Guilty as charged."
As Lucy's eyes widen in shock and excitement, she can barely contain her enthusiasm. Her mind is racing with questions as she tries to process the realization that she's standing face-to-face with the legendary training officer.
The rookie turns to Tim, her expression incredulous. "You never mentioned her before!" she exclaims.
Tim crossed his arms above his chest, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "Because my life is none of your business, Officer Chen," he retorts.
She faced you with a barrage of questions, her enthusiasm didn't wane, "What was Tim like as a rookie? I heard he wasn't so keen on following orders, is it true?"
You smiled at her, starting to like her more and more. She's definitely giving Tim a hard time. What you know from Tim and seeing her so curious and exited, you knew she has what it takes to be a successful cop.
Before you can respond, Tim interrupts, his irritation growing by the second. "Alright, that's enough, Chen," he barks, his tone firm and commanding. "Shop, now!"
"Yes, sir."
Lucy's excitement fades as she reluctantly obeys Tim's orders, shooting you an apologetic look before hurrying off to prepare for the patrol. As she disappears from view, Tim lets out a frustrated sigh, the grumpiness lifting slightly as he turns back to you.
"She seems nice," you comment, nodding towards where Lucy disappeared. "She's a good kid."
Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair as he considers your words. "Yeah, you're probably right," he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
You reach out to gently squeeze his hand, a reassuring smile playing on your lips. "I know, and I know that sometimes a little kindness goes a long way," you say gently. "She'll appreciate it in the long run."
As Tim gazes at you, a mixture of admiration and gratitude flickers in his eyes. He's more than just a grumpy, hard-to-please man—he's a devoted husband, a dedicated cop, and a man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Despite his tough exterior, there's a vulnerability in his gaze.
The sun filters through the windows of the station, its golden rays dance across Tim's face, casting a warm glow that accentuates his rugged features. He appears even more handsome in this moment, his chiseled jawline and piercing gaze illuminated by the soft light.
His sandy blonde hair catches the sunlight, creating a halo of golden warmth around his head. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, soften in the gentle light, revealing a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.
As Tim searched your face, you're bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, the sunlight highlighting the delicate contours of your face and the warmth of your smile. Your eyes, a mesmerizing shade, sparkle with mischief and warmth, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.
He peaked around at the officers, everyone minding their business, before he leaned in, his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hand gently cups your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive, as if he never wants to let you go. You feel the soft brush of his lips against yours, a gentle yet insistent pressure that ignites a fire deep within your soul.
As the kiss deepens, you feel his other hand slide around your waist, pulling you closer until there's barely an inch of space between you. His touch is electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you melt into his embrace.
His lips move against yours with a hunger that matches your own, each kiss a testament to the love and longing that burns between you. There's a raw intensity to his touch, a desperate need to be as close to you as humanly possible.
For a brief instant, time seems to stand still as you respond eagerly, your heart racing as you lean into the kiss, savoring the warmth of his embrace. Despite its brevity, the intensity of the moment leaves you dizzy with desire, longing for more even as you reluctantly pull away.
Before the moment can linger, Tim's attention is drawn to something behind you. With a quick glance over your shoulder, you realize that Lucy is watching from afar, a curious expression on her face, sided by her mouth forming an "o" shape filled with surprise.
Tim's lips curl into a wry smile as he leans in to murmur in your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "Looks like we've got a little shadow," he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. "She's gonna be a pain in my ass all day!"
You laugh softly at Tim's comment, shaking your head in amusement. "Well, you did sign up for this when you became her TO," you tease, a playful glint in your eyes. "Just be nice, okay? She's just curious."
Tim rolls his eyes at your advice, but there's a hint of affection in his gaze as he gazes at you. "Fine, I'll try to play nice," he concedes with a grin. "But no promises if she starts asking too many questions."
As your husband heads off for patrol with Lucy, you find yourself seated across from Sergeant Grey in his office, the familiar surroundings offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos of the precinct. His office is tidy yet lived-in, with stacks of paperwork neatly organized on his desk and a few personal mementos scattered about—a photo of his family, a commendation plaque from his years of service.
Wade offers you a warm smile as you settle into your seat, "Y/N, it's been a while. Think the last time I saw you was at your wedding?"
You nod in agreement, "It hasn't been that long. But you know Metro, it keeps me busy."
"Well, it's always a pleasure to have you around." Sergeant Grey's words of praise for your time as an officer at the station warm your heart, "You were one of the best we had," he continues, sincerity evident in his tone. "It's a shame to lose you to Metro."
As the conversation progresses, you take a deep breath before broaching the subject of your visit. "Sir, I'm here on official business," you explain, your tone serious. "Metro is recruiting, and I'm here to find the best officer for the job."
Grey nods in understanding, "I see. And do you have anyone in mind?" he asks, leaning forward slightly.
You hesitate for a moment before responding. "Actually, I do," you admit, your gaze meeting his. "I think Officer Bradford would be the best fit for Metro."
He considers your words for a moment before responding. "I have to say, I agree with you, Tim would make an excellent addition to Metro."
There's a hint of hesitation in your eyes as he speaks, and you can tell that he senses there's more to your recommendation than meets the eye. "Is there something else on your mind, Y/N?" he asks, his tone gentle but probing.
You paused, choosing your words carefully before responding. "Well, sir, it's just... I'm not sure if it's appropriate for me to recommend Tim," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't want it to seem like a conflict of interests."
You found yourself grappling with a mix of emotions. There's a deep-rooted sense of pride your work, coupled with a genuine desire to see Tim succeed in his career.
"Trust me, Y/N, Officer Bradford's qualifications speak for themselves." he leaned back on his chair, "Don't worry about it. I'll handle it from here. We both know you and Tim keep your private life apart, and I'll make sure Metro knows this decision is based solely on Tim's achievements."
Sergeant Grey's words sink in, a rush of relief floods through you, washing away some of the anxiety that had been gnawing at your nerves. It's comforting to know that your integrity as an officer won't be called into question, that your personal connection with Tim won't overshadow his merits.
With a grateful smile, you nod in appreciation, the knot of worry in your stomach loosening with each word he speaks. "Thank you, Sir."
"Now go find your husband!"
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In the dimly lit interior of the shop, the tension between Tim and Lucy was palpable. Lucy's curiosity burned bright, fueled by suspicions and unanswered questions.
"So..." Lucy ventured, breaking the uneasy silence. "I saw you and Y/N kissing, back at the station. Is she your girlfriend?"
Tim's jaw clenched at the inquiry, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "That's none of your business, Chen," he shot back, his tone gruff.
Lucy persisted, undeterred by his dismissive tone. "Come on, Tim," she pressed. "You can't just brush this off. I obviously know there's something going on between you two."
But Tim remained stoic, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I said it's none of your business," he repeated, his voice terse.
Lucy gaze lingered on him, studying his face. She couldn't read anything but irritation caused by her intrusion into his private life. She searched his hands, no sight of any ring, so the possibility of you being his wife dropped.
"Do you like her?" she insisted.
"What's the proper procedure for securing a crime scene?" he replied to her question, avoiding giving any details about you.
"Come on. You can't avoid this forever. Are you and her just colleagues, or is there something more?"
Tim's irritation simmers beneath the surface, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. He had hoped to avoid this line of questioning, to keep his personal life separate from his professional one. But Lucy's relentless curiosity had pushed him to his breaking point.
"What's the recommended procedure for securing a firearm during an arrest?"
She couldn't shake the feeling of defeat, knowing deep down that Tim wouldn't give her the answers she sought. Despite her best efforts to uncover the truth about Tim's relationship with you, she found herself hitting a dead end.
"I saw the way you look at her. You have feelings for her?"
"When searching a suspect, what areas of their body should you prioritize for pat-downs?"
"Fine. I'll shut up."
Confusion clouded Lucy's thoughts as she struggled to make sense of the situation. She couldn't understand why Tim was so guarded about his personal life, especially when it came to someone who seemed to hold such significance to him. It left her feeling unsettled, a nagging sense of curiosity gnawing at her.
As he focuses on the road ahead, he can't help but feel annoyed by Lucy's persistence. He knows she means well, but he's not ready to share the intimate details of his relationship with the woman he loves. He just wants to focus on their job, to keep their partnership strictly professional.
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As lunchtime approached, the bustling street food area near the station came to life with the sound of chatter and the aroma of sizzling food. Amidst the crowd, you found an empty table, enjoying the inviting atmosphere, with colorful umbrellas providing shade from the midday sun as you waited for Tim.
Your husband approached the table where you were seated, a sense of defeat hung heavy in the air, exhausted from all of his rookie's questions. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a tangible reminder of the connection you shared.
As the conversation turns to you, Tim leans in with a curious glint in his eyes. "So, what were you doing at the station earlier?"
"Metro sent me to find a recruit," you confess, your gaze meeting Tim's.
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "And did you find one?"
Angela rises from her seat, flashing a smile, "I hate to break up the party, but duty calls. I'll catch you guys later."
You nod understandingly, bidding her farewell with a wave as she heads off to resume her patrol.
You return your attention to Tim, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah. You."
Tim's eyes widen in disbelief, his expression a mix of shock and excitement. "Me? Are you serious?"
Nyla's figure blended into the bustling crowd as she disappears down the street with her rookie, leaving you and Tim alone.
You give him a knowing smirk. "Dead serious. They've been considering you for a while. Sending me down to the station was just a formality—a test, to see if I was ready for a promotion or something."
"You're getting promoted?"
"Uh-huh."
"That's awesome, babe. I'm proud of you."
As the lunch break comes to an end for Tim, he and his rookie prepare to go on patrol again. They stand by the patrol car, gearing up for their shift.
"Lucy, you're driving," Tim says, tossing her the keys with a grin. "Show me what you got."
Lucy's eyes light up with excitement as she catches the keys, nodding eagerly. "You got it, Officer Bradford. Shotgun!"
While Tim is in the shop, double-checking some equipment, you lean over the car door, catching his attention. "Hey," you say softly, a hint of concern in your voice. "Be safe out there, okay? And have a good time."
Tim gives you a reassuring smile, placing a hand over yours on the door. "Always am, love. Don't worry about me."
Just as the car starts to move, you lean in closer, your voice barely a whisper against the noise of the street. "And Tim... I'm pregnant."
Tim's eyes widen in surprise, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected news. You placed a playful kiss on his cheek, before the car pulls away, you watch Tim drive off with a mixture of excitement and fear.
You were scared of his reaction, delivering him the news this way gave you time to process and turn all the possible scenarios upside down.
He meets your gaze one last time before the car disappears down the street, a rush of emotions flooding his mind—joy, excitement, and a touch of nervousness. But above all, there's a deep sense of love and gratitude for the life you've created together.
"Did you get your TO pregnant?" Lucy asks, her tone a mixture of surprise and incredulity.
Tim's jaw tightens, a flash of irritation crossing his features at the inappropriate question. He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before responding firmly.
"She's my wife," Tim states, his voice leaving no room for further inquiry. "Now, shut up and drive."
He reaches up to where his uniform shirt collar meets his neck, pulling out a small chain with a wedding ring and some dog tags hanging from it. It's a subtle gesture, but one that holds immense significance—a symbol of the most important moments of his life, from fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan to marrying you.
Lucy's eyes widen in realization, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she realizes her mistake. Without another word, she focuses on the road ahead, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Meanwhile, Tim sits back in his seat, his mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. Despite the initial shock, a sense of pride and excitement fills him at the prospect of becoming a father. And as the patrol car speeds through the city streets, Tim's thoughts are consumed with thoughts of the future.
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klemen-tine · 7 months ago
Text
Please Please Please (Mom! Reader x Batfam)
Don't prove I'm right~ I love that song so much. Anyways! Not extreme Yandere, but part 2 will have some. This is just the setting up for it. Also, while writing I won't lie, I forgot about Damien, so he will have a lot of showtime in the next part. FYI
TW: Cheating, slapping (Reader slaps Bruce), Reader also throws something at Bruce.
In now way do I condone partner violence. no matter how mad you get, you should never hit or throw something at your partner.
In case you have never heard this song before, first of all who are you? Secondly here is the link
@Rosecentury 
@Problematicreblogger
@Kurai-hono-blog 
@Lunaluz432
@testishere
Y/N had put her life on pause for Bruce and his hero complex. She is a top-model. A supermodel that is still being asked to do photoshoots, make guest appearances, and dominate the runway despite her time away from it. The strict workout regime was still her daily exercise, and she still was conscious of what she ate. Age had not affected her the way it has to some of her friends because Y/N lived to be a model. 
Yet, she had put that on the backburner for her husband and kids. She forced her attention onto the scarred and vibrant children that her traumatized husband brought in like strays. Y/N raised them, alongside Alfred. It’s because of them that their sons and daughters did not turn out as crooked as Bruce Wayne. A man that was full of jagged and sharp pieces, piercing the skin of whoever got close. 
E/C eyes rolled nearly out her socket, taking a sip of the morning coffee and waiting for her youngest to come down. She ignored the nervous glances being sent her way from her sons, and instead pulled out her phone to look for a familiar contact. 
“None of you have anything I need to be here for, do you?” Tim and Jason quickly shook their heads, and Dick gave a nervous smile, “Not really… although it would be nice if you stayed here though.” Y/N raised a delicate eyebrow, and a sharp smile formed on her lips as she pressed ‘call,’ “Ah, don’t worry Dickie, I’ll come back. I’m just going on a trip.” 
The person answered, and before they could start spewing curses, Y/N greeted them, “Hey, Jackie! It’s Y/N.” 
“Y-Y/N! What’s going on?” 
“Remember those gigs you were telling me about?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Book them.” The boys stood up while her manager on the other line sputtered in excitement, “Really?! Oh my gosh Y/N this is so exciting! Which ones do you want? I know you want to stay close to Gotham -heaven knows why- but I can find some in-” 
“All of them.” 
“...what?” 
“Book all of them.” Jackie hummed, “Some are out of the country though.” 
“Even better! Pack your bags Jackie, we are gonna be gone for a while. Bring Stella too, I’ll pay for both of your tickets and lodgings.” Jackie was stuttering, “The-the first gig in a week is Venice, Italy! Is that enough time for you to-” 
“Let's leave tonight.” 
“Tonight?!” Everyone screeched, and Y/N gave her sons an annoyed look, “Yes, tonight. Let's enjoy Venice like when we were young, and show Stella around. I’m sure the two of you could use a vacation anyways.” 
“....Y/N, is everything okay?” 
“Peachy. See you tonight.” Y/N hung up, and threw her phone on the opposite end of the couch, continuing to sip her cup of coffee as the news reporter continued to talk about Batman and his risky rendezvous with Catwoman. The perfect love story. 
The pursuer and the pursued. The cop and robber. Batman, the man of justice, and Catwoman, a thief. 
Her jaw clenched, and her fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. The air around her was full of jitters and Dick was basically vibrating with worry, Jason focused intensely on his phone, and Tim was drinking even more coffee. 
“Um, mom, are you… is this…” Dick was fumbling, trying to find the words, and Y/N smiled, “C’mon on Dickie. It’s been a while since I went on the runway, or even in front of a camera outside of Gotham. You’re all old enough now, it’s fine.” 
“What about Dami?” Y/N smiled sadly, “Dami will be fine. Hell, today I’ll have him help me choose the jewelry and clothes that I will be packing.”
“You’re gonna have him help you pack your bags to leave?” Tim wondered, and Y/N flinched out how terrible that sounded, “Not like that. It’s a trip. A fashion trip and a girls trip.” Jason scrunched his nose, “Ma, fucking Bruce just go caught cheating and was broadcasted across the NEWs, and you’re now leaving for a trip. Do you think Dami will understand that?” 
Y/N took a sip of her coffee, “He will. It’ll be a conversation but it will be reiterated as many times as he needs to hear it. Plus, it’s not like you guys can’t call me.” Damien came stomping down the stairs, dressed in the Gotham Academy Uniform, and Y/N threw on a smile that would have had actresses crying, “Dami! I need your help today, so nevermind school.” Green eyes blinked in shock, his gaze taking in every one in the room before landing back on her, “Are you needing my assistance in packing?” 
“Only for a trip. So there’s no need to pack everything.” Damien nodded, “Fine. I will assist you. You have an abysmal amount of jewelry and some of them are simply deplorable.” Y/N chuckled, “Thanks Dami.” He went back up the stairs to change, and Y/N turned back to the NEWs where they were finally talking about something different. 
Sighing, Y/N stood up from the couch, “I’ll be in my room packing if anyone needs anything.” Silence followed her, and once she was out of earshot, Dick proceeded to panic even more. 
+++
She’s in Greece now. After spending a week in Italy, a week in Iceland, two weeks in France, and now four days in Zakynthos, Greece, she knows her vacation time is limited. Y/N has been using Bruce’s card to pay for the three luxury hotel rooms, one for herself (obviously), Jackie, and Stella. She’s used them for the plane flight in first class, the first class train ride, the yacht to get to this island, the fancy dinners, shopping sprees, any time that she needed to put money down she was using his card. 
Bruce is a billionaire, he doesn’t care and Y/N is also a billionaire, but this is her way of being petty. Why would she waste her money? 
A delicate eyebrow raised at the man in the mirror, followed by two of their sons and a butler dressed in a Hawaiian shirt. 
“Lady Y/N, it is great to see you.” 
“Hey Alfie, vacation looks good on you. I highly recommend the mimosa’s here, none of them have been bad.” 
“Hi Ma, you look relaxed.” Jason walked further into the room, taking a seat on the plush chair and grabbing a grape, and tossing some to Dick. Their oldest son smiled and waved, “C’mon mom, I know you’ve been here before, but you could at least try and look like a tourist.” Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling lovingly and flicking her hair over her shoulder. She leaned close to the mirror again, rubbing sunscreen on her face and massaging it into her skin. 
Her husband made his way a little closer as the family spread out in the room. Jason sitting in the chair, Dick on the bed, and Alfred standing near the door. Y/N sneered at Bruce through the mirror, “Bringing the kids to see you get humiliated is something I would have never thought you’d do.” 
Bruce sighed heavily, and Y/N wiped her hands on the towel and sipped her mimosa. Piercing blue eyes, filled with exhaustion and guilt, met hers, “Y/N, how much longer are you scheduled for?” 
“Hmm, for a while Bruce,” She pretended to think, “After all, I’ve been wanting to get back into modeling now that most of the kids are becoming independent, and what better way to announce to the world that I am back than a hard launch.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, “Will it be my card you’ll continue to use.”
“Of course! It's the least my darling, idiotic, and hormone-rivaling-a-teenager husband can do after that stunt, right?” The room got colder and Dick sat up straighter at the tension between his two parental figures. Y/N has always had a sharp tongue and quick wit, one she used on Bruce a lot. Rarely ever was it aimed to be hurtful though. 
“Y/N, temper.” Dick’s jaw opened and Jason made an exaggerated gasp. Alfred looked pained as Y/N whirled around and seethed at Bruce, “Temper? Temper?! Who the hell are you to tell me to watch my temper when you can’t even control your own hormones? 
“If you wanted to see my temper you just had to fucking say so!” Dick turned to Alfred, trying to see if there was anything he could do, but at the resigned look the man gave him, the oldest son choked on a noise, “This is a new side of mom.” 
“Lady Y/N has always had a temper, one that rivals Master Bruce.” She looked like a puffed up cat while Bruce was cowing like a dog with puppy eyes, “When they were younger, she would put even the adults in their place.” Her hand grabbed the now cold coffee pot, and Dick feels like it was only because Bruce was used to stuff being thrown at him and catching things that he was able to grab the projectile before it landed on the walls and carpet. Alfred raised a brow, “Sometimes that temper bleeds into other things.” 
Their mother was seething in front of Bruce, looking like a bull and was ready to charge into a china shop. While Bruce may not be as delicate as one, Dick has money on Y/N still doing a lot of damage if she were to charge. Metaphorically and physically.  
“Y/N, please.” Bruce tried again, only to see her get more angry. His hands were up in a placating manner, and Y/N held her own hands tense and ready to swing if he came closer. 
“Y/N, it genuinely was an accident.” 
“ ‘it genuinely was an accident’–” She mocked, purposefully making her voice annoying “-fuck off! Like your tongue going down her throat is an accident. Didn’t know that could happen!” Y/N looked around again for something to chuck, while Bruce closed the space between them inch by inch. 
“What’s next? Are you going to trip and accidentally find yourself between her legs with your pants down?” Jason and Dick blanched at the imagery. 
“Over a decade of marriage, of me playing the perfect ex-model-arm-candy wife for Bruce Wayne just for you dressed in a fucking furry suit to go and makeout with another fucking furry! 
“Like! I know we weren’t in this for love, but there. Are. Still. Standards!” She enunciated each word with a swat of her hand on Bruce’s shoulder. 
“I still have standards! You don’t see me making out with anyone else do you? Even as I’m playing Supermodel Y/N, dressed to the millions and making everyone drool, I don’t go making out with them!” 
“How could Batman, of all persona’s you wish to play, do that? I expected that from Brucie, not Batman, defender of Justice or whatever bullshit you spew when dressed in that gothic suit.” 
Bruce sighed, “Y/N, it was bad timing.” He gave her a hard look, “Justice and this are different. You cannot compare the two.” The man knew he messed up once the words left his mouth and he closed his eyes in regret. 
Jason saw the slap coming and he braced himself for the impact it would have. Bruce didn’t catch it, despite him being fully capable of it, and when it landed everyone winced at the sound and the red mark. 
“Well this is my justice. Now go away. I have a photoshoot to get ready for and you are just pissing me off!” The hand print was immaculate. One that had Jason biting back a laugh and Dick looking horrified. Y/N whirled back around to face her vanity, where all her jewelry laid on the surface, and her attention was focused back on picking which one would go with her outfit to the shoot. 
Jason whistled when Bruce turned around to face his kids and Butler, “Good hit Ma. You should hit the other side to even it out.” Y/N gave a laugh, picking up the pearl earrings encased with gold, and she continued to pick out a necklace. 
“Jay, help me out here please.” Rough hands replaced her’s, and green eyes met furious E/C though the mirror. Using the safety of her son’s larger frame to hide herself, Y/N slowly let herself crumble a little bit. Jason could see the anger, hurt, and sadness that was slowly turning the sclera red from holding back tears. There was a subtle shake in her shoulders and the trembling of lips, but Y/N held it together. She was holding onto it by the seams, desperately waiting for the man causing her pain to be gone. 
When the gold clasped, Y/N reached over for her large hat and sunglasses, “Enjoy the beach. Alfie, you especially should enjoy this vacation. Don’t let this  stupid, untrustworthy, and manwhore of a furry disrupt it.” With that, she slammed her hotel room door on her way out, and they all listened as her heels clicked down the hall until they were out of ear shot. 
Alfred glanced at his ward, “Well, I am not one for violence when there are disputes between partners, but I will say that one slap was well deserved, Master Bruce.” The man sighed, slightly rubbing his cheek, “I think the last time she hit me that hard was when we were in grade school.” 
“She put all her body weight into that.” Dick glanced at the hand print, “Woah, I think you can see the ring too.” Jason whistled, and Bruce closed his eyes and took deep breaths to keep himself steady, reflecting on the conversation and where exactly he messed up. 
“I think this is the third time she’s slapped me…” 
“Fourth, sir.” Bruce nodded, remembering the third time. Jason raised an eyebrow, “I only know of the time you were both 6, and you said something mean so she hit you.” Dick pouted, “I know of the one in Middle School, when you were once accused of touching her butt.” 
Alfred raised a brow, “The third time was when she dropped you off at the manor after a long night of drinking and you—” 
“Thanks Alfred, there’s no need to tell that story.” Bruce’s cheeks were now flushed from embarrassment rather than the slap on his cheek.  Y/N truly has seen him through it all. When he got into fights in school, it was always her eyes he sought out after each one. Bored E/C eyes, framed by thick lashes and elegant eyeliner, always watching with a blank expression. Bruce Wayne rarely phased Y/N L/N. When he was younger, he noticed how his last name made people stumble or stutter when talking to him, allowing him to say whatever he wanted. It did nothing to Y/N, who met his gaze and taunts head on with her own witty comebacks that stuck at parts of Bruce that had him fumbling. 
He can remember his dad, Thomas Wayne, laughing when he caught Y/N’s sly comeback directed at Bruce after he said something about her dress. Y/N’s own parents looked mortified. 
Y/N L/N-Wayne was a flame that never wavered. It’s what made her successful at modeling, and a supermodel in her first two years. That flame is what had photographers, stylists, fashion designers, and make up artists still call her up, begging for her to come back. A force of nature that had only paused for Bruce and their children. 
“C’mon, Y/N. Even you can see the benefits of this.” The woman raised her brow at a younger Bruce, who was smiling at her. 
“Your life does not pause, and now with the Wayne name as yours, your options are endless.” 
“And what about you?” 
“This means I no longer have to play as a playboy in public and everyone will stop asking me to marry them or their daughters.” Y/N laughed, “Nah, you’ll still get them. They’ll just now be whispered behind closed doors.” 
Bruce smiled, “The standards of a regular marriage will still apply. Obviously not the sex part or anything, but everything else will. Think of it like living with roommates.
“This will work for the both of us, Y/N.” The woman smiled into the rim of her cup, red lips leaving an imprint on the glass. 
It took him five tries for her to finally agree. There might have been some manipulation on his side of things, but he got that ring on her finger, and 2 months later she was walking down the aisle in a wedding dress that was deemed ‘The Dress of the Century.’ She was beautiful, even more so than usual. 
Dick glanced at him, “So, what’s the plan?” Bruce sighed, “Just make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” 
++++
It took 4 months for Y/N to come back to the manor. Within those 4 months, one of them were always with her. Switching off when they hit a new city, and each one had tried their charm on having her come back to the mansion. Bruce was going crazy, therefore Batman was more brutal than usual, and that the meant the other birds had to pick up the slack when it came to emotions. Bruce had all but shut down every other part that wasn’t Batman. 
However, nothing returned to normal once she was back. Her and Bruce were rarely in each other’s presence, and she refused to see or do anything about Batman. Y/N was trying to remove herself from Bruce Wayne completely, and no one liked that. 
Bruce and Y/N may claim that they were never in love, and that they only married for convenience. However, Dick will always remember watching Bruce and Y/N dancing in the main hall of the manor. He was hanging onto the chandelier, not yet noticed by either, as a song began playing and they both began dancing. 
They had been dressed in casual clothes, which consisted of dark blue jeans and nice tops and shoes. Dick’s young eyes watched as the two of them swayed and twirled around each other, Y/N laughing at the whispered words Bruce would share, and the stern man relaxing for the duration of the time. 
They were far from the perfect couple. Their parenting styles were different, and it took a while for Y/N to warm up to Dick. She was never cold or malicious, but just like Dick and everyone else, she was lost. However, it was her awkward arms he sought after when he had a bad day, or when Bruce got on his nerves. It was her eyes he always seeked approval for. 
When she caught him hastily packing, dying to get away from the man that had his rules tighter than the Robin suit, she helped. Y/N had folded his clothes, snuck a bottle of Smirnoff and Titos into his luggage, because moving required at least two bottles of alcohol, and she hugged him goodbye. 
Every member of this family has a memory tied to Y/N. A gentle one. 
Damian had kind memories, where Y/N smiled at him for no reason. She did not expect perfection, and one time she stated how she wished Damian would fail sometimes. It was something that had him seething and jumping to defend himself, but Y/N laughed, “Failure is our best teacher, Damian. What better time to fail then when you knwo you have people willing to help you up?” 
Jason remembers peeking on Y/N when he was younger. Watching through the cracks of the door as she and Bruce swayed to music, laughed at old memories, or simply sat around each other and read a book. Sometimes, he’d catch her trying on her jewelry, or reorganizing her perfume. Every now and then she would go through her closet and donate clothes she no longer wanted or needed. 
He watched how Dick, would seek her out whenever he and Bruce argued. When Jason finally allowed himself to be wrapped in those arms– arms that always had Bruce looking ready to sacrifice everything, that had Dick relaxing, and Alfred smiling endearingly– and he can see why they did so. It's different from Bruce, because Bruce makes you feel protected. In Bruce’s arms, Jason knows that there is almost nothing that can harm him. 
In Y/N’s embrace, Jason feels at peace. There’s no need to worry about protection because he’s in a place that does not need it. When he dances with Y/N, to their song nonetheless, there is nothing that can ever disrupt the moment. Y/N stares at him with adoration, just how she does with Dick, only her attention is on him. Him! A street rat from Dowry, Crime Alley, and he has the attention of the woman that is Bruce’s equal in the highest social circles. 
Those soft E/C eyes, that always stared at them with warmth and love, stared back at him through the mirror. He and Tim, because Timmy loved her just as much as he did, watched as Y/N emptied another glass of the Rose, and how the exhaustion from all the shows, photoshoots, flashing cameras, and the ordeal with Bruce seeped into her bones. 
“Hey Ma, let's get some sleep.” Jason walked closer, carefully minding the scattered jewelry that looked more expensive than any of his weapons, and Tim, who was forever on the same wavelength as Jason, scampered over to the large bed and lit the diffuser. 
Y/N hummed, running her hands through her hair, before tilting her head back and looking at Jason once more, “You both shouldn’t be here. I can handle this myself.” Y/N never liked it when any of the kids saw her less than presentable. She was always dressed in nice clothes, with nice jewelry, and makeup even at the manor. It's one of the worries of being a model, she had told Dick, always scared that the nosey paparazzi will catch you at your worst and share it with an even crueler audience. 
Jason had once confided in her about Willis Todd, and how he hated it when she drank in front of him. Whether it was scotch or champagne. 
After that, Y/N always drank in her room. 
The thing is, that Jason knows Y/N wouldn’t ever hurt him. She’s not like Willis who purposefully seeked out to hurt someone smaller. Jason knows that no matter how mad she got at him, she wouldn’t do anything (unlike what she would do to Bruce).
This is why, despite all the trauma he has with alcohol and people being intoxicated, he can confidently move the bottle away and the glass. Noting how both were empty. 
Tim strolled over, and gave a small smile through the mirror, “I’ll brush your hair, Mom. Then you should sleep.” Y/N tried to wave him off, “Don’t bother. I can do it myself. You both should go.” She sluggishly reached out for the vintage decorated paddle brush, only for Tim to snatch it before she could. 
“I want to do it. Besides, if it bothers you, think of it as me returning the favor.” The confused look Y/N gave him had him smiling patiently as he stood behind her and gently began to brush the locks of hair. Y/N sighed, “This is embarrassing. My kids should not be taking care of me.” 
“I’m an adult.” 
“CEO of Wayne Enterprises as well. Taking care of you when you are in a low spot is the least I could do.” Lord knows how many times Y/N has cared for them at their lowest. When Tim believed that Bruce was stuck in the Time Stream, Y/N didn’t seem all that confident in it, but she still believed him and helped him narrow down locations. She kept the press busy while he went out and searched. 
He heard later that she refused to talk to Dick when she found out they wanted to put Tim in Arkham. She shook her head in disappointment when Dick told her that Damien is now Robin. Tim always thought Dick was a bit stupid on that part. Parading Damien, a child from another woman, around and in front of Y/N nonetheless. Yes, thankfully Y/N warmed up to Damien and vice versa (although for Damien it took longer),  but that could have gone bad in so many ways. 
“Still my kids.” Jason pulled a chair next to her, so they could all be in the view of the mirror, and in a rare show of affection that is only reserved for Alfred and Y/N, he rested his head on her shoulder as Tim continued to work the brush carefully through her hair. Y/N’s shoulders sagged and her back hunched a bit, and for the first time in a while, Y/N let herself look how she felt. Exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted. 
Tim can see the dark circles under her red rimmed eyes, and the way her skin looked duller than usual. Granted, she finished a long gig, working tirelessly for months posing, getting dressed up, and traveling around the world to forget Bruce’s infidelity. 
‘Standards,’ she said in response to his excuse. Tim isn’t stupid to believe that neither Bruce or Y/N have feelings for the other. He’s seen it. It's in the way that Bruce concedes in arguments, or the flowers and necklaces he buys her when he’s apologetic, how the harsh glare that was directed at Tim when he first became Robin eased the moment Y/N pulled the boy close to her. Acting as a shield and sword for him. 
Her message was clear, and Bruce decided to read it. 
Y/N on the other hand lessened Bruce’s stress when he was CEO, the breaks from brooding to dance in the main hall to their song, or even acting as the sound of reason for him. She keeps him tethered to Earth, never letting his thoughts stray too far from reality. 
They may not be in love, but they still liked each other. Enough so that Bruce went along with her whims, just how she does with him. Enough so for Bruce to chase her across the world. Looking at it, perhaps Bruce was the one in love. 
“Jason, can you pass me the scrunchie?” He grabbed the silk scrunchie from large hands, and began braiding his mom’s hair. 
“You guys are being so silly,” Y/N huffed, and Jason beamed at her, giving her a boyish smile that he never shows anymore, “Anything for ya, Ma.” She subtly shook her head, a smile on her face as she looked back into the mirror. 
“Is this still about Bruce?” Tim kept his eyes on the braid, but from the tension in her shoulders, he hit the jackpot. Y/N brought her hand up to rub her forehead, “That idiot…” 
“Join the club, Ma.” Y/N took a deep breath, “He’s so stupid. It’s one thing to kiss another woman, which is fine. Do what you want to do, it’s not like we married for love.” A glare formed on her face, “But to get caught is another thing. Fucking idiot, he can only think with his hormones like a teenager. Even Dami isn’t like that, thank god.” 
Tim tied off the braid with the silk scrunchie, watching Y/N get heated again, “I hate him.” Except it was said with no bite, and the way Y/N’s lip wobbled had Tim hearing other words alongside the ones she mumbled. Jason leaned into her, offering her comfort while Tim watched from the reflection in the mirror.
Y/N to Tim was what Janet Drake had failed to be. He learned a lot from both of them, and it helped that both women were huge players in their social circles and socialites. They both taught him how to play with people’s perception of someone. Only Janet taught him to keep a straight face and not show emotion, while Y/N taught him that with a correct smile and a well placed chuckle, someone can be eating out of the palm of their hands. Both women approached the world with different weapons and tools, and both women used and taught them to him. 
Only Y/N also knew when it was time to put down the mask and become a reliable person for Tim, while Janet continued to only be Janet to Tim. 
He loves them both. Except, with Y/N he felt that if she were to ever leave him the way Janet did then he would have no choice but to follow and bring her back. Wherever Y/N goes, Tim will follow. 
“Boys.” Jason and Tim snapped their attention to the door, and Bruce was standing there, menacingly longingly. His face in an unusual expression, but one he’s worn a lot throughout the time Y/N was gone. An expression all the boys have gotten to know. Tim escaped, saying goodnight to both parental figures, before leaving for the cave. 
Jason pecked Y/N’s cheek, whispering good night and glaring at Bruce, “Don’t fuck this up old man.” To which Bruce sighed and nodded, closing the door after Jason. For the first time in months, it was just Y/N and Bruce. Alone with each other’s company and Bruce knows that if she could, she’d probably be strangling him right now. 
With great hesitancy, one that he could never show as Batman, he sat on the bed about a foot away from her. 
“I paused my life for you.” Y/N glared into blue eyes, “I paused almost everything, for you. For your mission. For the children you brought into our home, without asking me about it beforehand, may I remind you. I love them, and don’t you dare twist that, but I would have liked to have been consulted about it first.” Y/N didn’t want to be a mother. It was never in the cards for her, and yet here she is having more children than she had ever dreamt of. 
She loves them. She’d die and kill for them, but they were never in the cards of life she wanted dealt to her. 
“I paused so much, just for you to go and.. And… and do that.” Bruce winced at that, and Y/N felt happy that he did. Gritting her teeth, Y/N turned her attention to look at the fire. The heat of it reminds her of her own rage and the coldness she feels when in the presence of Bruce. 
Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and bit back a groan, “And once I start getting my life started again, having fun, going on the runway and magazines, here you come storming back.” 
“You looked like you needed the break.” Y/N shook her head, “Did you know, that that is one of your worst habits. Always making yourself out to be the hero.” She took a glass of wine and watched the liquid swirl in the glass, “Of course, you let me have that moment. Of course you were thinking of me, and my happiness. How kind of you.” 
Bruce sighed, watching her sip the alcohol that left a red stain on her lips. He can remember the first time he saw her in red lipstick. Shockingly, it was in-person and the red made her skin look warm and teeth appear even whiter despite the knowledge that red lipstick can make your teeth look yellower. It was a beautiful shade, matched by her dress. 
She was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Even as time progressed and she and he got older, Y/N remained beautiful. Defying the laws time and age as she remained ethereal. Unfairly so. 
Bruce had wanted to preserve that beauty, in the same way that many tried to preserve the flowers from the garden and the expensive smelling perfume. He wanted nothing more than for Y/N to continue smiling and for the fire to remain bright. 
To do that, he had to stay away. He could not allow himself to love her, because if he fell then he would drag her through the mud with him. Yet, here he is on the other side of that cold look, one that had him hesitating. That kiss with Selena was terrible timing all around. She had caught him in a moment of weakness, and someone just so happened to be there at the worst moment to catch it all. 
Staying away proved to be ineffective when here she is drinking wine with red-rimmed eyes and anger in her brows. 
“This marriage was never one for love, but there are standards. Ones we talked about beforehand.” 
“I know.” Y/N pursed her lips, tilting her head to the left and watching Bruce with distrustful eyes. The man sighed heavily and he sat in front of her, taking his own glass and pouring himself some wine. He didn’t like this type of wine, and from the very small scrunch in her nose Y/N didn’t like it either. 
The more he stared at her, taking in her still youthful features and eyes that burned bright, the more he could feel his emotions rising to the surface. Feelings and emotions he long tried to bury, but never quite succeeded. He had hoped that kissing Selena would just prove that he is only missing her as a sexual partner, and it only confirmed for him that he was in love with her. 
He is in love with Y/N L/N-Wayne. His kids are in love with Y/N. Alfred loves Y/N. The whole Wayne family, extended and all, are in love with this woman. This woman has nothing to do with their vigilantism, but instead reminds them that they are also normal and exist outside of masks and costume. That they are human and not shadows of the night. 
That they are the Wayne family. 
God, he loves her so much. So much. She is his weakness, his strength, his everything. The fancy cufflinks that are only brought out for special occasions, the expensive wine cracked open for celebrations, the pearl earring worn for the best performances. Y/N is the treasure of the Wayne family. 
Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly inching his way around her, testing the waters to see if she would shake him off or hiss at him. When there was no sign of that, he tightened his hold only slightly and pressed his forehead into her shoulder, gently laying a kiss on the joint, “Like I said, it was an accident. She caught me at a bad time, and I wasn’t expecting her to do that.” 
Y/N released a heavy sigh, and Bruce hugged her tighter, “I swear. It wasn’t consensual.” She rubbed her forehead, and Bruce watched how the lines slowly faded and melted back into her skin. Y/N never wore exhaustion well, which was why on mornings she had early photoshoots, she would sleep in her room instead of Bruce’s. She always woke up when he would stalk in and climb under the sheets with her. 
“Please, Y/N. Give me a chance. Let me take care of you the way you should be.” Y/N chuckled at that, “Careful Bruce, keep saying stuff like that and I might start to believe you have feelings for me.” Ice blue met E/C, and Y/N hesitated for a moment. Something chilling going down her spine, “I guess, I should start saying it more often then.” 
“Bruce…” He pecked her cheek, careful of the fire he was playing with, and carefully watching her reactions. His arms encircled her tighter, and he kissed her shoulder. Bruce watched, and observed how the tension slowly left her and reluctant acceptance came across her face. His arms tightened, and Bruce fought back a smile. 
“Ever the charmer,” She mumbled. Bruce huffed a laugh, and Y/N shook her head, “If I catch you with your mouth on anyone else’s but mine, I’m going to sick the kids on you.” An image of four rabid dogs, followed by a few more, filled his mind. Bruce grimaced as he remembered the tongue lashing he got from everyone, “Noted.” 
Y/N chuckled, and Bruce smiled, throwing his weight back on the pillows, bringing Y/N with him. His arms still tight around her waist, and a promise on his lips. 
‘I’ll never let you go again.’ 
________________________________________________
Not super Yandere, but it is getting there.
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dtilmnh · 19 days ago
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We all know that Neil has two smiles, his "Neil-smile" and his "Nathaniel-smile". I went through the books to see how many times Neil actually smiles, because god knows it's not that many.
His "Nathaniel-smile" pops up a few times, usually when he's around Riko, threatening someone, or daydreaming about his father's gruesome death.
"Are you threatening a federal agent?" Nathaniel smiled so hard his burns ached. "I wouldn't dare."
He smiles his normal or "Neil-smile" a total of eight times through the series. Never in the first book, twice in the second, and six times in the third. Out of these eight, four were towards Andrew, one to Kevin, one to Wymack, one to Nicky, and one to Matt.
Nicky subsided with a lightning-quick grin in Neil's direction. Neil managed a small smile back.
The original point of this post was that Neil really doesn't smile or laugh or anything as much as he does in fanfictions and stuff. Andrew and Neil are not a grumpyxsunshine trope, Neil is not the light to Andrew's darkness, they're both massively fucked up and Neil does his crazy serial killer smile more often than his regular one.
He couldn't sleep, but at least he could daydream his father's death over and over again. That was almost enough to make him smile, and eventually it thawed the chill from his veins.
Anyways, that 𝘸𝘢𝘴 the original point of the post, but now I'm stuck thinking about how cute it is that he literally smiles only eight times throughout the entire series, and 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 of them are to Andrew. It's so fucking cute, especially when you consider the circumstances of the rest of them.
Andrew, who for once hadn't wasted their time denying that this thing between them might actually mean something to both of them. Neil hadn't even noticed the silence at first, too distracted by his dizzying thoughts. Now he couldn't help but smile and pull Andrew in.
He shares a tired smile with Kevin after the first Raven match. He smiles when Wymack picks up the phone when he calls him after he comes back from Evermore. He returns Nicky's grin with a small smile to reassure himself when Riko comes to watch their match against the Longhorns. And he gives Matt a tight smile during the final match against the Ravens.
"Neil?" All the gruff posturing left Wymack's voice; that sharp edge was all alarm. "Are you all right?" Neil smiled. It felt like it tore his face open. "No. No, I'm not. I know it's kind of sudden, but can you come get me? I'm at the airport."
With Andrew, basically every single time is directly 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 of him. Those smiles are some of the only times he actually feels or shows genuine pleasure or happiness, and I just think that's so cute.
It wasn't funny—none of this was—but that response was so obnoxious and so typically Andrew that Neil couldn't help but smile.
Technically he does smile a ninth time, at all of the Foxes, but since that was immediately after and because of Riko's death, I'm tempted to classify it as a "Nathaniel-smile" lmao.
Neil looked from one tired face to the next, soaking them in, reveling in everything they'd accomplished tonight and imagining how they'd react when they heard the news tomorrow. "What's so funny?" Nicky asked when he spotted Neil in the doorway. Neil hadn't realized he was smiling. "Life?"
(Also the word smile no longer feels like a word to me now. I never realised how often Renee smiled until I had to go through every single time any character smiled in the books)
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elikajinnie · 4 months ago
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hello!! may i request a drabble or a spin off from forbidden taste!heeseung with his reaction or thoughts after taking the antidote for amortentia? and also how he’s desperate to find y/n and why she’s avoiding him for days? 🤭 thank you!! i luv a desperate man 😩
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a/n: you may :3 i LOVED seeing this in my inbox when i woke up! And we do all indeed love a desperate man ;)
Warnings: ehm, a desperate man basically?
The fic in question --> click here
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Heeseung was angry—no, he was livid. The moment the effects of the Amortentia wore off, his mind cleared like a storm breaking apart, and the first thing he thought of was you. Where were you? Why weren’t you there? He had searched and searched, every corridor and corner he could think of, but you were nowhere to be found.
It didn’t help that Yoonhee had been trailing after him, clinging to his arm, tears streaming down her face as she apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far! It was stupid—I know it was stupid, Heeseung, I’m so sorry!”
But Heeseung knew better. He could see right through her feigned remorse. The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t sorry for what she did—she was sorry she got caught. His patience, already paper-thin, finally snapped. He shoved her off and hissed, “Stay away from me,” before marching straight to a professor and reporting her. He didn’t wait to see the consequences unfold; he couldn’t care less. There were far more important things to deal with.
Like finding you.
You, who had been conspicuously absent through it all. You, who he hadn’t seen since after the Amortentia’s haze vanished. A knot of worry had formed in his chest, twisting tighter with every second that passed without an answer. He stormed into the courtyard, seeking out your housemates with frantic determination.
“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice sharp enough to startle a group of first-years nearby. “Where is she?!”
One of your friends finally stepped forward, hesitant but honest. “She’s... she’s been in bed all day. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”
The words hit him like a Bludger to the chest. Guilt and heartbreak washed over him in waves, drowning out the last remnants of anger. You had been suffering alone, likely because of him—because of what had happened, because of everything Yoonhee had done.
He tried everything—everything—to get through to you. He sent letters, each one carefully written, pouring his heart onto the parchment. He sent messages through your housemates, through your friends, hoping they might convince you to talk to him. Every time he saw a friend of yours, he’d stop them, desperate for any sliver of news.
“How is she? Did she eat today?” he’d ask, his voice laced with worry. “Did she sleep? Is she feeling any better?”
It was always the small things—tiny gestures—to show he cared. That he was thinking about you. That he was sorry. He wanted you to know that it had all been the Amortentia, that none of it had been real. None of it had been his choice. And above all, he wanted you to know that he never, ever meant to hurt you.
But no matter how hard he tried, you remained locked away. Your absence stretched between you like an invisible wall, keeping him out. You weren’t just avoiding him—you were avoiding everyone. And it hurt.
It hurt because he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t talk to you. He couldn’t hold you in his arms and kiss away the pain, couldn’t wipe the tears from your cheeks or make all your worries disappear. He wanted to tell you, face-to-face, how much you meant to him, how much he hated himself for letting this happen. But he couldn’t do any of that—not while you stayed hidden away in your common room, unreachable.
So, he waited. He stayed close, always looking for a chance, a moment, a sign. But until then, he would keep trying, keep hoping, because losing you was something he couldn’t bear.
And he did keep trying. Every day, he checked the places you’d usually be—the library where you’d bury yourself in books, the quiet corner of the courtyard where you’d sit when you needed to think, even the kitchens, where you’d sometimes sneak a late-night snack.
But you weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere.
The less he saw of you, the less he heard of you, the more desperate he grew. His patience—what little he had left—was wearing thin. He couldn’t focus in class, couldn’t eat properly, couldn’t sleep without his thoughts drifting back to you. He wanted—no, needed—to see you. To hear your voice, to know that you were okay, that you didn’t hate him. The thought of you hating him gnawed at his heart like a cruel curse.
He tried to remind himself to give you time, to respect the space you clearly needed. But it was hard. Too hard. Every day that passed felt like another piece of you slipping further away, and he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.
When another one of your housemates brushed him off with a mumbled “I don’t know,” Heeseung snapped. He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the frustration and worry boiled over. “How can you not know? You live with her! Hasn’t anyone even seen her?”
The girl flinched but reluctantly admitted, “She’s been in the dorm. She just... doesn’t come out.”
Those words were both a relief and a torment. You were there, within reach, but still so far away from him. The knowledge burned in his chest, twisting into something unbearable. You were so close—just a few walls separating you from him—but it might as well have been an ocean. And he was drowning in it.
Heeseung's desperation grew with every passing moment. He found himself pacing the corridors near your common room, running his hands through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. He couldn’t stand this helplessness, couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, hurting because of him. The guilt was suffocating, pressing down on him like the weight of the castle itself.
He tried to write another letter, his trembling hands scrawling messy, frantic words onto the parchment.
Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know you don’t want to see me, but please, just let me explain. Please let me make this right.
He crumpled it and started again, feeling like no words could possibly convey the storm in his chest. How could he put into words how much he hated himself for what happened? How could he tell you that the worst part of it all wasn’t Yoonhee’s betrayal or the humiliation of being under the potion’s effects—it was losing you?
He sent the letter anyway, knowing it was just one of many you’d likely left unopened.
The next day, he cornered one of your closest friends in the hallway. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Please tell her I’m sorry. Tell her... tell her I’ll wait as long as it takes. I just need her to know.”
The friend hesitated, giving him a pitying look before nodding. But he didn’t trust that it would reach you. Heeseung was running out of patience, running out of hope. Every time he thought about the tears you must have shed, the pain you must have felt, it killed him a little more.
Late one night, he found himself back outside your common room again, leaning against the cold stone wall, staring blankly at the entrance. He didn’t even know what he was doing there. Maybe he hoped you’d come out? Maybe he thought you’d sense him there, that you’d realize he wasn’t going anywhere until you let him in.
His fists clenched at his sides, and before he could stop himself, he let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against the wall, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll wait. As long as it takes... I’ll wait for you.”
His voice cracked on the last words, but he meant it. Even if it hurt. Even if it felt like he was being torn apart. You were worth it. You were everything.
Eventually, the Christmas Ball arrived, but Heeseung didn’t want to go. The last thing he wanted was to pretend to enjoy himself, but his friends had other plans. They nagged him, teased him, and pushed him to "just have some fun for once." After a mountain of peer pressure, he reluctantly gave in, throwing on his suit and styling his hair without much care.
He still didn’t expect much. The Ball wasn’t going to fix anything—it was just a night to endure. He let his friends drag him along, had a drink or two, and resigned himself to the chatter around him. None of it mattered.
Until he saw you.
Everything else disappeared the moment his eyes found you across the room. You stood at the edge of the Grand Hall, illuminated by the soft glow of the enchanted snowflakes falling from the ceiling. Your dress shimmered, and you looked breathtaking. Stunning. Like a vision he didn’t deserve to see.
And then he realized—you were staring back at him.
His heart stopped. You weren’t avoiding him this time. You weren’t looking away. Your gaze was locked on his, full of something he couldn’t quite place—uncertainty, maybe? He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were here, and you were looking at him.
Before he could even process what he was doing, his feet started moving. His drink was left abandoned on a nearby table as he strode across the hall, weaving through the crowd until he was right in front of you.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.
He had waited for you.
But now, he was done waiting.
For weeks, Heeseung had been nothing but patient, forcing himself to hold back when every fiber of his being screamed to see you, to talk to you, to fix things. He’d stayed away when he knew you needed space. He sent letters, messages, and even flowers, trying to show you he cared without pushing too hard.
And still, he never got a response.
But Heeseung told himself he could endure it, because you were worth it. He could be patient, be understanding, because he loved you. He was good for you, wasn’t he? He cared for you in ways no one else could. No one else would wait this long, worry this much, or fight this hard.
And yet, when he saw you standing there, in your pretty dress, something inside him snapped. He had been so good. He had done everything right. He had given you all the space you asked for, all the time you needed. But seeing you now, after everything, reminded him just how much he’d missed you. How much he’d longed for you. How much it hurt to be apart.
He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers again. Not when he knew how good the two of you were together.
He didn’t ask for permission when he reached for your hand, didn’t even hesitate—he simply took it, his fingers curling around yours like they belonged there. Because they did. He believed that with every beat of his heart.
As he pulled you toward the corridor, he felt his resolve solidify. He had been patient, more patient than he thought he was capable of, but patience had its limits. He had waited for you to come to him, but you hadn’t. And now that he had you in front of him, he wasn’t going to let you go.
And when you didn’t fight him as he led you into the quiet hallway, it gave him hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, you wanted this too.
a/n: i love writing his pov :) also im not sure when you put ur perm taglist... so im not adding it here xD already posted so much.
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