#i confronted him about it and he said he was just going to keep them as a backup just in case

[juniperskye]

I’m Sorry…What?

Based on the following ask: Established relationship but it’s secret from the team. The team think they don’t like each other but in truth they are deeply in love with each other but the team don’t let them always be alone together out of worry so there have been a few close calls where they almost get caught until reader and Aaron room together and finally talk about maybe telling the team only the way they tell them is threw wedding invites and that’s shocks the team and they all have questions to which reader and Aaron only smile thinking how funny it is that a team of profilers never found them out. Love this idea! In this, Derek kind of looks out for the reader – very “big brother” behavior from him in this.

Aaron Hotchner x Fiance BAU! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 1617

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, meddling profilers, canon typical violence, mention of stabbing and hospitals, mention of wedding related activities, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You stood from your desk, just about to head up to Hotch’s office with a file when Emily stopped you. Her hand resting on your forearm gently, her eyes meeting your own.

“I have to go drop this file off, let me take yours.”

“Oh, Emily it’s okay. I can take them.” You moved to grab her file.

“Girl, it’s okay…I know how hard he is on you.” Emily stood, patted your shoulder and took the files to Hotch’s office.

--

Things had been like this pretty much since the moment you’d joined the BAU. For whatever reason, everyone on the team had just assumed that you and Hotch hated each other…that you two couldn’t even be in the same room as one another without fighting. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

See, what the team didn’t know was that Aaron and you were engaged. The two of you were dating even before you had joined the BAU. You had been working with a different team within the FBI, having a background in behavior analysis…moving to the BAU when a spot opened up, that just made sense.

Aaron and you had agreed to keep things strictly professional at work to avoid any discomfort within the workplace. Apparently that choice was now biting you in the ass.

Working with profilers, you’d think the secret of your relationship would have come out a long time ago, that being said, doesn’t mean there haven’t been some close calls.

--

This had started early on in you career with the BAU. Aaron had avoided pairing the two of you together, simply to avoid any suspicion of your relationship. The team, however, took this as him not warming up to your presence on the team.

Then it was him “benching” you. Aaron for a period of time had kept you in the local precincts on cases, you knew this was because he was worried about you getting hurt, but the team saw this as him questioning your abilities. They all reassured you that you were an asset to the team, more than capable in the field. Morgan had gone as far as confronting Aaron about the way he was mistreating you.

What really sealed this theory in your teammate’s heads was the way Aaron and you sparred. During debriefings the two of you would go back and forth through numerous theories, jabbing at one another for how “ridiculous” the other one was being. While to the team this looked argumentative…it really was how the two of you were, always pushing one another, wanting them to be the best they can be. Unafraid to challenge one another.

Everything was different after that. The team worked overtime to keep things light when the two of you were around one another. They would step into conversations, inserting themselves when it wasn’t necessary. They would jump in and offer to pair with one of you, so you’d never be stuck one-on-one.

At first you found it kind of funny, laughing internally at their crazy antics, but now that you were engaged, it was getting increasingly annoying. You’d just wanted some alone time with your fiancé and they were making it impossible.

--

You had gone to get a fresh cup of coffee to help you get through the remainder of your paperwork. Upon entering the kitchenette, you came face to face with your fiancé.

“Hey sweetheart.” He quietly greeted.

“Hi hon.” You smiled.

Aaron passed you a cup of coffee before moving to fill a second one for himself. He’d been this way since the beginning, always putting you first no matter what. You offered him thanks and stood with him for a moment, enjoying the proximity.

“I got a call earlier from the florist, she sent over the invoice. I also sent the deposit to the caterer this morning.” You informed.

“For the flowers, peonies right? Did you decide on pink or whi-”

“Everything okay in here?” Morgan bounded into the kitchenette. “You guys look tense…please tell me you weren’t fighting again.”

“Nope, everything is good! I was just heading back to my desk.” You said before making your exit.

--

The next slip up was while away on a case. You had been with Derek interviewing someone that happened to be the unsub, only you hadn’t been aware of that going in.

He had pulled a knife and moved quickly, leaving you with a nasty stab to the gut. You were lucky that it hadn’t hit anything major. You’d waved Derek off, telling him to go after the unsub.

After apprehending the guy, Derek made his way back to you to check in and make sure you were okay. He had called the team and for a medic, not leaving your side.

When Aaron showed up he was livid. The team took that as anger for your “mistake”, not realizing that his anger was directed toward himself – he was beating himself up for having sent you in there, putting you in this situation.

He rode with you in the ambulance to the hospital…giving the rest of the team time to talk about how he was probably reprimanding you. But once again, it couldn’t have been further from the truth. He had held you hand and reassured you the whole way to the hospital.

The team met him there and waited by his side as you were tended to. And when the doctor came out and called your name, asking for family, Aaron didn’t hesitate to rise to his feet, barely catching himself and mentally correcting fiancé to boss.

--

After that, the team did everything they could to keep the two of you separated or at least had someone with you to act as a buffer. It was becoming exhausting – you’d been trying to give Aaron an update about some stuff for the wedding and you just couldn’t get the chance.

The two of you would end up rapidly firing through topics once you arrived home for the evening, trying to catch one another up on wedding tasks, work tasks, and just everyday things.

 “Aaron…have you thought about how much easier things would be if we just told the team about us?”

“Yes I have. Why do you ask?” He admitted.

“Just, well…they’ve been annoying lately.” You huffed. “I don’t mean to sound rude, you know I love them. But they just won’t quit, I can’t get even a second alone with you at work and it is getting ridiculous.”

“You’re right. When you were in the hospital last month, I almost let it slip in front of them. If it’s what you want, let’s tell them.” Aaron agreed.

And thus began your planning of how you’d tell the most oblivious group of profilers that the two of you didn’t hate each other but were actually engaged to be married.

--

It took about a week and a half before you could officially tell the team your little secret. You had been waiting for your invitations to come in so you could hand deliver a few to your team…it would be the perfect announcement.

“Round table in five.” Aaron called out into the bullpen.

“Shit…he seems pissed.” Emily hissed.

You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing full well he was anything but pissed. Emily and you went and collected everyone, bringing them to the round table. There were hushed whispers about what this could be about, and when Penelope mentioned there wasn’t a new case, you could feel the anxiety filling the room.

--

Aaron made his way in, his hands holding a neat stack of pale pink envelopes. You couldn’t help but notice the way he commanded a room, his mere presence demanding the attention of those around him. This is what had initially drawn you to him all those years ago.

“I have something for each of you. I’d like you to wait to open them until everyone has one.” Aaron announced.

He passed them out one by one, the room remaining silent the entire time. It didn’t take long for everyone to notice that you were the only one who didn’t receive an envelope.

“Hotch man, if this is some kind of sick power move then I swear I will-” Derek began.

“Please, open them.” You spoke before standing up and making your way to Aaron’s side.

Confusion painted its way across everyone’s faces. Hands working quickly to open the envelopes they’d been handed. You were shaking with anticipation, and you couldn’t help the little smirk that made its way to your lips when the confusion was quickly replaced with shock.

“I’m sorry…what?” Penelope asked.

“What the hell is this?” Derek questioned.

Everyone began talking at once, talking about whether or not this was a joke. Asking if one another knew, and how long this had been going on.

“Guys!” You called. “Aaron and I have been together for a few years, well before I started with the BAU. We got engaged about seven months ago…and well, we’d love it if you all would be there for us.” You smiled.

“I KNEW IT!” Rossi laughed. “I told you all from the beginning that they didn’t hate one another, they love each other, and you all swore that they hated each other.”

--

Four months later, the BAU team stood by your sides as you said your vows and committed yourselves to one another.

And while the team dynamic shifted slightly with them knowing the two of you are together, and with there being two Agent Hotchners now, the one thing that didn’t change was that this team was family and you all were there for one another no matter what.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[illubean]

Ocean Eyes

"No fair, you really know how to make me cry when you give me those ocean eyes!"

Characters: Satoru Gojo Type: Oneshot, Gn!Reader, Highschool!AU (?)

this fic idea came to me in a dream but it lwky didn't turn out how i wanted it but uhhh oh well

Warnings: slight angst? angst? idk how sad it is tbh, Gojo is a dickhead in this one

He knew. Of course, he knew. Satoru, with his piercing blue eyes that always seemed to see straight through you, knew exactly how you felt. But he never said anything, never acknowledged it. Instead, he let it linger between you, like a secret dance no one else could see.

Yet, it seemed you couldn't do much about your hopeless pining. And Satoru never seemed to help either.

At lunch he’d sit across from you, knees brushing briefly under the table. He’d pretend it was an accident, but you both knew it wasn’t. Satoru had a way of leaning in just enough that you could smell his cologne, feel the heat of his body so close to yours without ever truly touching.

Sometimes, he’d look at you with that playful smirk and throw compliments your way. He'd say thing like "You're so cute when you rant like that" then laugh, his blue eyes twinkling as if he were joking. But you weren’t sure anymore if he was teasing or if he knew exactly how it made you feel—your heart in your throat and cheeks burning.

Whenever he'd catch you staring, he'd hold your gaze as long as you allow. Those glimmering orbs holding the beauty of the sea at sunrise, but with a flickering flame hidden behind them. It was something you couldn't decide if it was resemblant of passion or something more unnerving, like a silent warning of chaos that may ensue.

It made you crazy. The way he’d show up randomly in the hallways, leaning against the lockers, and giving you that look—the one that said he knew exactly what was going through your mind. Sometimes he’d even get close enough to whisper in your ear, “You know, I think you like me. A little too much.”

You hated how exposed you were. As if you were some pawn in whatever sick game he was playing. But you couldn’t stay away from him. There was something magnetic about the way he looked at you, something that kept you coming back for more, even when it hurt. Satoru would talk to you just enough to make you think there was something between you, and then pull away just enough to keep you guessing.

Fed up with being toyed with like this, you pulled Satoru aside in the hallway to confront him.

"What the hell is your problem!? You're constantly flirting with me just to disappear for days then you reinvite yourself back into my life like nothing happened!"

He shrugged, his smile widening into that familiar, mischievous grin. “Maybe I just like keeping you on your toes. You never know what to expect from me, do you?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, trying your best to hold back your emotions. "No. No, I really don't."

“I like that about you,” he said, leaning a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. “It make things... interesting.”

He stared down at you with those eyes you constantly found yourself lost in, but now you were sure of what they hid.

He didn't care about you. He never did. He just enjoyed the attention.

You felt your throat tighten and your nose turn warm, eyes pricking with tears you refused to let spill over.

"So this is all just fun in games to you? Even when you know how crazy I am about you!?"

"I guess so," he shrugs. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he turns to make his way down the hall.

His nonchalance was the final blow to the dam you built inside yourself, sadness spilling over in the form of tears that dripped down your cheeks. Gojo left you there in the middle of the hallway, heart heavy in your chest and left in a million shattered pieces.

And even after he had just destroyed you, you were still drowning in Satoru Gojo.

The only thing on your mind was those ocean eyes.

[kathlare]

decode

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: During a routine rehearsal, Amelie is unexpectedly confronted by the weight of a song she can no longer bear to sing.

Wordcount: 1.0 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

August 12th, 2022 - London, United Kingdom

The studio was buzzing with energy, the sharp twang of an electric guitar reverberating through the air as the band warmed up. Amelie stood in the middle of the room, her fingers wrapped tightly around the microphone, trying to steady herself.

It was just a rehearsal. Just another song in the setlist. She had sung it a hundred times before. It shouldn’t feel this hard.

But it did.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat as the familiar chords of Decode filled the space around her. The opening melody rang out, and suddenly, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

—"You're good at the falling, not the staying there..."—

Her grip on the microphone tightened.

—"You're good at the giving too much, then getting scared..."—

Her stomach twisted.

Lando.

She didn’t even need to close her eyes for the memories to hit her like a tidal wave.

Late-night calls when neither of them could sleep. His voice, groggy and teasing through the phone, telling her about some ridiculous thing Max did that day. Her laughing, telling him he was an idiot, and him calling her mi amor in that British accent that somehow made it sound even more like a joke.

Racing through the empty streets of Monaco at night, her heart pounding as he sped past red lights, his McLaren roaring against the silence. The way he’d glance at her from the driver’s seat, that cocky smirk on his lips, fingers drumming against the wheel. "Scared, princesa?"

Inside jokes only they understood. The way he’d call her brat when she annoyed him, the way she’d roll her eyes and call him pretty boy in retaliation. The way he’d wrap his arms around her after a long day, whispering in her ear, "I missed you."

But then there was the way it ended.

The nights he stopped calling. The way he started pulling away. The text she had sent that he never answered.

The moment she had seen the first blurry photo of him with her.

Luisinha.

Amelie’s hands trembled.

—"Now I wonder why... I let your confusion keep me up at night..."—

She couldn’t fucking do this.

Her voice wavered. It was slight—maybe no one noticed, maybe they thought it was just a crack in her voice, a choice she made for the song. But Amelie knew better.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and kept going, forcing herself to sing through the words that felt like open wounds. But the more she sang, the harder it became. Her head was filled with his voice, his laughter, the fucking way he used to look at her when he thought she wasn’t watching.

—"Done looking for signs in the gaps and the silence..."—

The words lodged themselves in her throat.

Because she had spent months doing exactly that. Looking for signs. Overanalyzing every moment, every word left unsaid. She had torn herself apart trying to understand how he could go from making her feel like she was the only person in the world to acting like she had never even existed.

And then, just like that, he was with her.

Like Amelie had been a placeholder. Like she had been a temporary thing to pass the time until someone else showed up.

Her breath hitched, and suddenly, the walls of the studio felt like they were closing in.

—"Where else can we go? There's nothing left here to decode..."—

Her voice cracked.

She heard it. The band heard it. The entire fucking room heard it.

She ripped the headphones off and let them dangle around her neck, shaking her head as she stepped away from the mic.

—Let’s take five,— she muttered, voice tight.

Her bandmates exchanged glances, unsure whether to press her on it or not. They had been playing with her long enough to know when something was wrong. But no one said anything.

Amelie walked away from the mic stand, running a hand through her hair, frustration burning under her skin.

What the fuck was wrong with her? It had been over a year. She had moved on. She was happy.

So why the hell was she standing in the middle of a rehearsal studio, falling apart over someone who wasn’t even thinking about her?

—Amelie?— one of the producers called after her. She exhaled sharply, trying to push past the emotions clawing at her throat before turning around.

—We’re cutting the song,— she said firmly.

The producer blinked. —Cutting?—

—Yeah,— she nodded, voice more confident this time. —Take it out of the setlist.—

The band looked at each other again, but no one questioned her.

—Are you sure?— her guitarist asked carefully.

Amelie forced a smile, as if this wasn’t fucking killing her. —Yeah. Just... I don’t think it fits the show anymore.—

That was a lie. It fit too well.

But she wasn’t going to stand on a stage in front of thousands of people and sing a song that made her feel like this. Like she was back in Monaco, waiting for a text that would never come.

Like she was still nineteen, still stupid enough to believe that he wasn’t going to break her heart.

[lunaandco]

anatomy studies; part two

pairing: pedri x ofc

summary: pedri and vic have been secretly dating for months. it's time to confront marc with the fact that his overprotection did not work.

taglist: @htpssgavi ; @joaosnovia

masterlist // series masterlist // i do not take requests

Vic was woken up by the sound of her phone ringing, but it was not her alarm. That was not supposed to ring until twenty minutes later. Beneath her, Pedri groaned, his arm being thrown over Vic's body.

"Mierda, my brother is calling." That seemed to wake both of them up. Dating in secret was thrilling, and pulled them closer than anything she could think of, but it was also exhausting, specially if one had such an overprotective brother as Vic's.

"Marc?"

"I called Sandra," he said. Vic cursed inwardly. She had told him she would be spending the night at her friend's house, when she was actually in bed with Pedri.

"She said you didn't sleep there." His voice was hard. "Where are you?"

"At my boyfriend's," she blurted the truth. Pedri sat up straight. They had talked about coming clean to Marc in multiple occasions and even decided that they would invite him for lunch to talk to him that same weekend, but the idiot ruined the plan.

"Who is it?"

She looked at Pedri, who nodded. Then she returned back to the call.

"Pedri."

The line went dead.

"Mierda."

💙❤️

"You better start explaining yourself," threatened Marc once Pedri arrived to the locker room. He had just dropped Vic at her faculty, and was now forced to meet his very pissed brother in law, who just happened to be his coworker.

"He means well," Vic had explained, at the beginning of their relationship. "When we were twelve, my first boyfriend was one of Marc's teammates. He broke my heart and called me a whore for breaking bro code or something stupid like that. Marc has tried to keep me safe from footballing idiots ever since, even if it means keeping me away from prince charming"

Pedri was not that patient.

"I love your sister," he said. "Vic is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't know what else you want me to explain."

"Why you didn't tell me would be great." Marc reste dhis hands on his hips.

"Because you would have made the scene you're making right now," Pedri sighed tiredly. "We wanted to explore our relationship in our own terms without anybody helicopter parenting us." He grabbed his phone, showing Marc a screenshot of their reservation. "We were going to tell you this week, see?"

Marc was going to say soemthing else, but Flick interrupted them. Marc might have been angry, but not even him wanted to face a pissed off German coach.

By the end of the training session, Pedri texted Vic and told he to wait for him at her house, that he would go back with Marc, so they coud talk peacfully and hopefully fix things.

Pedri followed Marc's car to the adress where verything had started, with Pedri fully naked and posing for Vic. He had played model in numerous occasions ever since, but he was not afraid of getting a boner anymore. He actually encouraged it, since Vic liked to finish off the sessions with a little thank you gift.

Not that they would tell her brother any of that.

"What are your intentions with my sister?" asked Marc once they were all sitting in the living room, Vic so close to Pedri she might as well be on his lap.

"Marry her, eventually," blurted Pedri. He and Vic had not discussed marriage yet, but guiltily, Pedri already had his eyes on the perfect ring.

Marc clenched his jaw.

"You won't hurt her?"

"I'd rather join Real Madrid than hurt Vic," he replied with a straight face. It was a serious statement, for a culer.

"Do you want him, Vic?"

"More than anything."

"Does he treat you well?"

She looked up at his boyfriend, who was blushing a little.

"Like a princess."

"If I hear you caused her, even a tiny paper cut..."

"Enough, Marc," snapped Vic, pushing one of her pigtail barid behind her. "i'm going to be with Pedri whether you like it or not." She said succintly. "So, do your threats or whatever, but get on with the plan. It's not gonna change for you. I can decide who to date or not on my own, alright?"

"I..."

"I've allowed you to be that overprotective for so long because I never cared about the guys you were pushing away, but if you even try to push Pedri away I will fight you back," she threatened.

Marc's shoulders dropped.

"You're right." He admitted in a low tone. "I might have gotten a little bit carrid away."

"You did. but it's okay." Vic smiled squeezing her brother's hand. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to my room to make out with my boyfriend until Mum gets home."

"Hey!"

[n-evermores]

By A Thread

Pairing: Alden Parker x NCIS!Reader Word Count: 6k+ Summary: Parker invites the reader to his cousin’s wedding, where unspoken feelings surface but end in rejection. Days later, a dangerous pursuit in the woods forces them to confront their feelings. Warnings: Age-gap romance A/N: A wedding scenario similar to Knight/Jimmy’s was requested about two years ago. I started writing it and couldn’t bring myself to find the right ending and it’s been stuck in my drafts. I finally decided to polish it up and finish it. This was a while back, which is why the beginning hints at Jimmy and Knight still keeping their relationship a secret. 

“Me and Delilah are taking the twins to the aquarium this weekend. They’re already so excited.” Tim grinned, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

“Sounds like you’re a bit excited too,” Jess teased, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

McGee just shrugged, his grin widening. She was right, of course, his face lit up every time he spoke about it.

“I have big plans this weekend too. We’re going—” Jess hesitated, releasing a nervous laugh. “You know.”

“Going where?” you asked, already guessing her plans involved Jimmy. Everyone knew about their relationship, yet she continued to dance around the topic like it was a big secret. Jess just shrugged, bringing her coffee cup to her lips to avoid answering.

Nick threw Jess a side-glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, I’ve got plans too,” he announced with a shrug. “What about you? Any big plans this weekend?” He asked you.

“Nope. Just me, my couch, and Netflix,” you replied with a big, performative smile. The truth stung more than you liked to admit. You wished for something to break the monotony of your weekends. If you weren’t working, you were cooped up inside, watching TV. It was the same boring routine every weekend, and most days you silently hoped for a big case just to shake things up.

“No plans at all?” Jess asked, her surprise evident.

“Yeah, you need to get out more. You’re like a hermit,” Nick teased, his tone light but pointed.

You sighed, half-laughing. “I go to the cafe sometimes. And on occasion, I take myself to the movies,” you countered lightly. “I just never have anywhere to go is all.”

“Would you like somewhere to go?” A familiar voice interjected.

You turned to see Parker rounding the corner, carrying a box of sweets. His eyes flickered with uncertainty as he studied your face. “My cousin’s getting married this weekend. I was invited, and honestly, I’m not really one for weddings. I could use a plus one.” He offered you a small, nervous smile.

Your heart swelled in your chest at the sight of his hopeful expression. “Will there be cake?” you asked, trying to keep the moment light.

“Well, yeah. It’s a wedding,” he replied, his gaze searching yours. “So? What do you say?”

You stared into his eyes, your resolve crumbling under their gentle intensity. “How could I say no to that face? Okay. Count me in,” you agreed, earning a fleeting look of curiosity from Parker.

As he set the box of sweets down on his desk, you wondered if you’d said the wrong thing. How could I say no to that face? Honestly you may as well tell him you think he's hot. But it was true. How could you say no to him when he looked at you like that?

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at a quarter to six on Saturday,” he said, grabbing a pastry from the box.

Your heart did a little flip, and you took a steadying breath. You’d always loved the group trivia nights at Parker’s place, but you’d longed for a chance to spend time with him alone. The last time was weeks ago when he took you birdwatching. It was a memory you still clung to.

“You’re going to a wedding with Parker?” Nick leaned in, whispering just loud enough for you to hear. “You don’t think that’ll be a little awkward?”

You shrugged, brushing off his teasing. “No. Why would it be?”

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, try not to have too much fun. Parker might not be able to keep up.”

You just shook your head at Nick. You stole a glance at Parker and smiled, excited and nervous all at once. You couldn’t believe you were going somewhere formal with Parker. It almost felt like a date, but you quickly shoved that thought away.

It was not a date.

-

You stared at yourself in the mirror, scrutinizing your reflection. The cocktail dress was your favorite color, and it struck the perfect balance. It wasn’t too extravagant, but tasteful enough for a semi-formal event. Knight had offered you a long gown during your frantic search for the right outfit, but this felt more like you.

As you studied the curves of your body and the way the dress fit you like a glove, you wondered if Parker would like it. Or even notice it.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the unease bubbling inside you. Meeting Parker’s family was intimidating enough. But more than that, the thought of being introduced as “just a friend” was a bittersweet reminder of your reality.

When the doorbell rang, you grabbed your clutch and hurried to open it. Parker stood there in a black suit with a crisp white button-down. His eyes widened slightly as he took you in.

“Wow. You look incredible,” he said, his voice soft.

You felt your cheeks heat under his gaze. “Well, look at you,” you replied with a smile, taking in how the suit complemented his already handsome face. God, he was just so good-looking, and you found yourself staring a little too long.

“Ready?” he asked, his hand brushing your elbow lightly as he gestured toward the car.

It wasn’t a date, you reminded yourself. But the way his hand lingered on your back as he guided you outside sent your heart racing.

Parker made small talk the entire way there, and you found yourself trying to relax as you tugged at your dress slightly. You were fine when he took you birdwatching, yet this felt different. The two of you, dressed nicely, attending a nice event with possible dancing. It was definitely different than birdwatching.

-

The venue was buzzing with laughter and chatter as Parker led you to your seats, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. The brief contact was electric, and when it fell away, you missed it instantly.

You felt relief at spotting the familiar face of Roman. However, your relief was short-lived. Sitting next to him was Vivian, Parker’s ex-wife. The sight of her stirred an unwelcome pang of insecurity. You didn't want to feel that way. You liked Vivian, and you had little reason to feel the way you did, but you knew your irrational feelings had everything to do with your even more irrational feelings for Parker

“Dad, you didn’t tell me you were coming,” Parker said, his tone casual but edged with surprise.

“I wasn’t going to, but Viv convinced me,” Roman replied, nodding toward his companion.

Vivian smiled politely, but her gaze flickered to you, cool and appraising. The weight of her scrutiny made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You brought your hands to your lap, nervously fidgeting until Parker’s hand found yours, stilling your movements.

“You okay?” he asked, leaning in close enough for only you to hear.

“Yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile.

He removed his hand with a small nod. A few moments later, wedding music echoed off the walls and you all stood to welcome the bride as she walked down the aisle. 

You stole a glance at Vivian. She wasn't looking at you anymore, and you wondered if perhaps she was just as jealous of you as you were of her. She probably didn't expect to see Parker here with a woman. Or maybe she just didn't trust the situation.

After the newlyweds exchanged their vows, everyone made their way to the reception hall.

The reception was crowded, and you felt fine with Parker by your side, that was until he wasn’t anymoree. After the music began, and the newlyweds shared their first dance, couples began dancing together under soft lights. Your heart sank as you watched Parker and Vivian take to the floor. They moved effortlessly, their shared history evident in the way they laughed together.

A young man approached you, breaking your reverie. “Care to dance?” he asked, his smile probably charming to most, but you found it annoying considering your sudden sour mood.

You glanced at Parker, who gave you a small nod of encouragement from the dance floor. Pushing aside your disappointment, you placed your nearly empty glass of wine down and accepted the man’s hand.

He smiled at you, giving you a quick once over, “Is that your dad you came with?”

You felt heat rise to your face. “Um, no. We work together. His cousin is the bride.”

“Oh, I’m on the groom's side.” He said, twirling you gracefully before pulling you close again, his grip light yet steady. You tried to focus on the rhythm, but your mind wandered to Parker, his attention entirely on Vivian. The sight sent a dull pang through your chest, one you struggled to shake. After moments of going through the motions with your dance partner you were pulled from your thoughts.

"Having fun?" a familiar voice interrupted, startling you. You turned to see Parker, standing a little too close to ignore. His hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, and he extended a hand to you. "Mind if I cut in?"

Your dance partner hesitated but stepped aside, tipping his head politely. "She's all yours."

Parker’s hand settled comfortably on your waist, his other hand clasping yours. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple of awareness through you, one you hoped he didn’t notice.

Parker observed you, tilting his head slightly to study your face. His voice was soft, his gaze curious. “Something on your mind?”

You hesitated, your eyes darting briefly to your previous dance partner, who was now chatting animatedly with another guest near the edge of the dance floor. Parker followed your gaze, his lips curling into a teasing smirk.

“Ah,” he said, his tone playful. “Caught your eye, did he?”

Your face flushed instantly. “What? No!” you protested, far too quickly. “He just asked me to dance.” If only Parker knew it wasn't that stranger who caught your eye. It was him and your gaze has been unwavering ever since.

“Hmm,” Parker murmured, clearly unconvinced. His grin widened, and his gaze flickered back to you. “Then why are you so defensive?”

You rolled your eyes, desperately trying to deflect. “Well, what about you and Vivian? You two seem pretty close. It’s nice that you’re still good friends. That can’t be easy, considering, well, everything.”

Parker’s expression shifted slightly, his amusement giving way to something softer, more thoughtful. “Viv and I have a lot of history,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “We didn’t end things on bad terms, so staying friends just made sense. She’s family, in a way. Her and my dad are still very close.”

You nodded, your fingers fidgeting slightly against his shoulder. “That’s admirable. Not every divorced couple can manage that.”

“It wasn’t easy at first,” Parker said with a small shrug. “But we found something that worked, and it’s been good since.”

The weight of his words hung between you, and for a moment you were too aware of the space, or lack thereof, between you two. The song shifted to something slower, the tempo almost forcing you to step closer. His hand on your waist tightened slightly and you reveled in it, even if it was just because of the dance.

“You’re still quiet,” Parker remarked again, his voice softer this time, almost a whisper. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering away from his intense eyes. “I’m fine,” you lied, your voice not as steady as you’d hoped. “It’s just been a long day.”

Parker didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he held you a little closer, his thumb brushing absentmindedly along the fabric at your waist. “Well, in case I haven’t said it yet,” he murmured, his voice carrying a warmth that made your pulse quicken, “you look stunning tonight.”

Your cheeks heated again, and you couldn’t stop the small, bashful smile that tugged at your lips. “Thanks,” you said softly. He did say you looked incredible when he picked you up, but the way he spoke now just felt different. Did Parker find you attractive? He probably did, but was he attracted to you was the real question you wanted to know.

The rest of the dance passed in comfortable silence, the weight of unspoken feelings lingering between you. As the song ended and Parker reluctantly stepped back, you couldn’t help but wonder if he too felt that quiet pull, the unshakable connection.

But before you could dwell too long on the thought, Parker offered you a crooked smile. “C’mon,” he said, motioning toward the dessert table. “Let’s find something to indulge my sweet tooth.”

“Good, I can use another glass of wine too.” You said and followed him, your heart still fluttering.

At the dessert table, Parker carefully balanced two small plates piled high with slices of cake, his expression one of pure determination. You couldn’t help but laugh as he handed you one and grabbed a fork for himself. 

“What?” he asked, grinning as he caught your amused look. “I take dessert very seriously.”

“Clearly,” you teased, taking a small bite of the cake. It was rich, full of flavor, and just sweet enough to make you sigh with contentment. “Okay, I get it now. This is worth the hype.”

Parker chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you for a beat too long before he spoke. “Told you. Weddings might not be my thing, but the cake always makes it worthwhile.”

You felt the heat of his attention and quickly took a sip of wine, the warmth spreading through your chest now more than just from the alcohol. Parker’s presence, his easy smile, the way he always seemed so effortlessly thoughtful, was starting to make your head spin. Or maybe that was the wine.

You finished your dessert, getting yet another glass of wine to wash it down all while Parker continued to eat, obviously not ready to let go of his sweets just yet. You found it cute how his face lit up while he ate. He leaned in conspiratorially. “Want to sneak out for a bit? I could use some fresh air.”

You nodded, grateful for the excuse to escape the crowd and the persistent ache of watching him interact with Vivian earlier. Together, you slipped outside into the crisp night air, the sound of laughter and music fading as the two of you wandered toward a quiet garden behind the venue.

The stars above sparkled like tiny diamonds, their brilliance mirrored in the soft glow of the fairy lights strung through the trees. You hugged your arms to yourself, more for comfort than warmth, as Parker fell into step beside you.

“You okay?” he asked gently, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. “I know I sound like a broken record, but you really have been quieter than usual.”

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. The wine was making you bolder than usual, and for a moment, you considered brushing off his question. But Parker was looking at you with that familiar mix of curiosity and concern, and it made your chest ache.

“It’s nothing,” you said, though your voice didn’t carry much conviction. You gestured vaguely toward the sky. “Just one of those nights, I guess. Too much wine I suppose.”

Parker’s brow furrowed slightly, and he stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Your laugh came out softer than you intended, almost wistful. “That’s the thing, Parker. Sometimes you make it hard to not tell you everything.”

He tilted his head, his expression shifting to something you couldn’t quite read. “Why’s that?”

You glanced away, staring at the stars as if they held the answer. “You’re just always kind to me and always patient with me. Albeit, a little sarcastic," You snorted, and Parker turned to look down at you with mirth in his eyes.

"Did you just use the word albeit?"

You shot him a glare, "As I was saying. You do things like invite me to a wedding just so I wouldn’t spend another weekend cooped up alone.” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling. “You’re just you.”

Parker’s lips quirked into a small smile, his voice soft when he spoke. “I don’t think you realize how easy you make it for me.”

Your gaze snapped to his, your heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?”

“You,” he said simply, as though the words had always been there, just waiting to be said. “I enjoy your company.”

The weight of his words hung between you, and for a moment, you felt like the ground had shifted beneath your feet. You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your ears. The wine buzzed in your system, loosening your tongue just enough for the truth to slip out.

“Sometimes I think I like spending time with you a little too much,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Parker’s eyes widened slightly. You knew you said too much. He blinked, surprise flickering across his face as if he hadn’t quite heard you right. He stared at you for a beat longer than was comfortable, his fork frozen mid-air over his slice of cake.

“Um,” he started slowly, his voice tinged with uncertainty, “are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You froze, realizing too late how much your words had revealed. The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten. “I didn’t mean,” you stammered, your cheeks burning. “Look, just forget I said anything, okay?”

He didn’t respond right away, his fork finally lowering to his plate. His brows knitted together, and for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, his gaze flickered away from you, toward the stars above, his thoughts clearly racing.

“I’m sorry,” you added quickly, “I’ve had too much wine. That’s all. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Y/N,” Parker interrupted gently, his voice still low but insistent. His eyes met yours again, and you could see the hesitation in them, the cautious way he was picking through his thoughts. “It’s not that I don’t, well, it’s just,” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his usual calm demeanor visibly shaken. “You’re younger than me. I’m your boss. It’s—”

“Complicated,” you finished for him, your lips pressing into a small, strained smile. “I know. Trust me, I know. That’s why I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget it, okay?”

He stared at you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned his attention back to his dessert, his fork clinking softly against the plate. You did the same with your wine, the tension between you palpable as you both sat in silence. The sweetness of the cake and wine felt muted now, the air between you too thick with everything unsaid.

You felt like such an idiot. How could you be so stupid to insinuate such a thing to your team leader, to a man clearly old enough to be your father? You wanted to walk into the night and just disappear into a void of nothing. It was embarrassing.

After a few moments, Parker finally broke the silence. “You’re asking me to forget something that I’m not sure I can,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were talking to himself.

You glanced at him, startled by the confession. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice cautious. Was he trying to admit he felt something too, or was your mind playing tricks on you?

He set his fork down as he met your gaze again. There was a vulnerability in his expression now, one you weren’t used to seeing from him. “Just,” he began slowly, carefully, “that I’ve thought about this before. About you. And I’ve told myself over and over again that it’s better to leave it alone. That it’s just easier that way.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “And now?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he looked away again, his eyes scanning the garden like he might find the answer hidden in the foliage. “Now, I don’t know,” he said honestly. 

His words hit you like a tidal wave, but before you could respond, he shook his head, a small, humorless laugh escaping him. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone softer now, almost apologetic. “This isn’t fair to you.”

“Parker,” you interrupted, your voice firm despite the tremble in your hands. “Don’t apologize. Please.”

He looked at you again, his expression conflicted. “You’re right. It’s complicated,” he said after a long pause. “And I need to think hard before I say or do something I can’t take back.”

You nodded, your chest aching as you forced a small smile. “I get it,” you said softly. “Really, I do.”

For a while, the two of you sat there in the quiet garden in silence. The weight of the conversation lingered between you, unspoken but impossible to ignore. And though nothing had been resolved, the air between you seemed different.

-

The drive back was quiet.

The sound of the engine and Parker's choice of music filled the space between you, neither of you daring to break the silence. Parker’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles faintly pale against the leather. You stole a glance at him, noticing the way his jaw was clenched, like he was deep in thought or maybe fighting with himself.

You weren’t sure what to say, and honestly, you weren’t sure if you should say anything at all. The tension from earlier still hung in the air, thick and heavy, leaving you to pick nervously at the hem of your dress.

When Parker pulled up outside your apartment building, the car rolled to a stop, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The quiet stretched, the weight of unspoken words settling in your chest. Finally, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, moving to your side to open the door for you.

The two of you walked to your door in silence, the sound of your heels clicking softly against the pavement the only thing breaking the stillness.

When you reached your apartment door, you turned to face him, clutching your clutch tightly in both hands. Parker stood just a step away, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched like he was bracing himself against the night chill, or maybe his own thoughts.

“Good night,” he said finally, his voice low and steady.

“Good night,” you replied softly.

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if searching for something. Then, before you could react, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was soft, tentative, and yet it sent a jolt of warmth through you that made your breath catch.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” he murmured, his lips just barely brushing your skin as he pulled back.

The moment lingered awkwardly, both of you standing too close, and neither of you willing to step away. The air between you felt voltaic, and your heart pounded in your chest as his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“Parker,” you started, your voice unsteady, but you didn’t get the chance to finish.

His hands reached up, seizing your face with a sudden urgency that made your breath hitch. And then his lips were on yours, hard and demanding, his kiss stealing the words from your mouth and replacing them with something far more primal.

Your clutch dropped to the floor as your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his suit jacket as you kissed him back just as fiercely. The world around you disappeared, the only thing that mattered was the way his lips moved against yours, the warmth of his hands on your skin. You moaned into the kiss, pushing yourself flush against him. Your back hit the door, his hands moving to your waist to grip the fabric of your dress. You closed your eyes as he stippled soft kisses down your neck, and you buried your fingers in his hair.

But just as quickly as it began, it ended. Parker pulled back abruptly, his breathing unsteady, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment longer before falling away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice rough, filled with equal parts regret and something deeper, something raw. He took a shaky step back, running a hand through his hair. “Good night.”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, his pace brisk, almost hurried. You stood frozen in place, watching him retreat to his car, your heart pounding and your lips still tingling from the kiss.

When he climbed into his car and drove off, you let out a shaky breath, finally letting yourself move. You unlocked your door and stepped inside, closing it behind you with a soft click. You leaned back against it and let out a long sigh, your head tilting back as you tried to process what had just happened.

Your fingers brushed your lips and then your neck, the memory of his kiss still fresh, still vivid. You could still feel the roughness of his beard against your skin, and the way his lips left soft kisses down your neck. You shivered at the recollection, yet he ripped himself from you too easily. You had no idea what this meant. What any of it meant but you knew one thing for sure.

 Work was going to be interesting.

. 

The next workday felt different, though you weren’t sure if it was real or just in your head. Parker had come in as he usually did, setting a box of pastries on his desk for the team, a small gesture of normalcy that only seemed to highlight how not normal things felt now.

The team gathered like clockwork, drawn to the smell of freshly baked goods, but you lingered at your desk, unwilling to engage too quickly.

Jessica Knight grabbed a pastry first, taking a big bite before leaning casually against Parker’s desk. “So,” she started, her voice light and curious, “how was the wedding?”

Parker, who was in the midst of placing his jacket over his chair, froze for the briefest of moments. He recovered quickly, straightening and offering a tight smile. “Good,” he said simply, his tone clipped.

Knight raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. “That’s it? Just ‘good’? I figured with you dragging Y/N along, there’d be some kind of funny story.”

Your heart lurched at the mention of your name, and you busied yourself with your computer screen, pretending to be engrossed in an email.

“Nope,” Parker said quickly, almost too quickly. “It was a nice wedding.” He cleared his throat and turned back to his files, signaling the end of the conversation.

But Nick wasn’t about to let it go. “So,” he called out with a sly grin. “How about you? Did you have fun?”

You froze, your hands pausing mid-typing as all eyes turned to you. You forced a smile, keeping your gaze firmly on your computer screen. “Yeah,” you said, your voice slightly too bright. “It was nice.”

The tension in the room was visible, and you could feel everyone’s curiosity like a weight pressing down on you. Knight’s gaze lingered, her sharp eyes darting between you and Parker, but for once, she didn’t press further.

Nick, however, let out a low whistle. “Okay, well, that was awkward,” he said with a chuckle, grabbing another pastry.

You muttered something about needing coffee and quickly excused yourself, heading for the break room and praying no one followed. All you could think about was the kiss and Parker's retreating form as he scurried away from you like a mouse from a cat. How were you supposed to work with him when you couldn't even look at him anymore?

-

The rest of the day passed in a blur, though you were painfully aware of every moment Parker spent in the same room as you. He didn’t try to talk to you, not that you gave him much of a chance. You avoided his gaze, kept your responses brief, and made yourself as inconspicuous as possible.

But as the afternoon wore on, you couldn’t avoid him forever.

You stepped into the elevator on your way to drop off some files, only for the doors to slide open again almost immediately. Parker stepped inside, his presence filling the small space and making the air feel heavier.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his tone cautious.

You nodded stiffly, keeping your eyes on the glowing panel of floor numbers.

The silence stretched, thick and unbearable, until Parker suddenly reached over and hit the emergency stop button. The elevator jolted to a halt, and the lights dimmed slightly, bathing the small space in a muted glow.

You turned to him, startled. “What are you doing?”

“Yeah,” he began, his voice steady but low, “we need to talk about last night.”

“There’s no need,” you said quickly, your voice sharp as you crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s fine. Just leave it.”

He stepped closer, his brow furrowed, his hands clenched at his sides. “It’s not fine,” he said firmly. “I crossed a line, and I need to apologize for that.”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and something deeper. “Don’t apologize again.”

He blinked, taken aback by the bitterness in your tone. "I was out of line.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say that.” you snapped, your words coming out harsher than you intended. “Just drop it, okay? Pretend it didn’t happen. You’re my boss, and it’s complicated, and I get it. I get it, Parker.”

The hurt in your voice was undeniable, and Parker’s expression shifted, guilt flickering across his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but you shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” you said quietly, your voice breaking slightly.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the silence heavy with all the things you weren’t saying. Finally, Parker nodded, his jaw tightening as he reached out to release the emergency stop. The elevator jolted back to life, the lights returning to full brightness as the hum of movement filled the space once more.

When the doors slid open, you stepped out without a word, your heart pounding in your chest as you walked away. This time you were like the mouse running from the cat and you couldn't bring yourself to look back.

And Parker? He stayed behind in the elevator, leaning back against the wall and running a hand over his face, the weight of what happened pressing down on him like a tidal wave.

-

The next time you and Parker said anything to each other was on the field. You mostly kept things professional, but now you were knee deep in a new case, and you had no choice but to interact.

Your suspect was hiding away somewhere in a cabin, and you and Parker went to question them. Of course, they ran off into the woods, only making themselves look more guilty.

"We've got a runner!" You shouted as you took off after them. You were fast, but the suspect obviously knew the woods better than either of you, navigating the trails with ease.

The sound of snapping branches and heavy breathing filling the air as you chased the suspect through the uneven terrain. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, the pounding of your boots against the forest floor matched the thudding of your heart. Parker was just a few steps behind you. You didn’t slow down.

The suspect glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wild as he realized how close you were. He darted to the left, trying to lose you in the dense trees, but you pushed harder, your legs burning as you closed the distance between you. You heard Parker call your name, telling you to be careful, but you didn’t stop.

You caught up to him just as he stumbled over a fallen log. Launching yourself forward, you tackled him to the ground. He let out a grunt of surprise, but before you could pin him fully, he twisted beneath you, throwing an elbow that knocked the wind out of you. You gasped, trying to recover, but he was quick. He shoved you off, scrambling to his feet as you fought to regain yours.

Parker’s voice called from somewhere behind you, but you barely registered it. The suspect turned on you again, swinging wildly. You ducked, countering with a punch to his side that made him stagger. You went to grab him, but with a sudden burst of strength, he shoved you hard.

Your foot slipped on the damp earth, and before you could find your balance, you felt your body lurch backward. The world tilted, and suddenly you were falling. The edge of the embankment crumbled beneath you, and you plummeted down a small ledge, crashing into the freezing rush of the river below.

The icy water hit you like a brick wall, stealing the breath from your lungs as the current dragged you under. You fought to break the surface, your limbs thrashing as the water pushed and pulled at you mercilessly. Panic set in as you struggled to stay afloat, the roar of the river filling your ears.

“Y/N!” Parker’s voice cut through the chaos, and through the blur of water and adrenaline, you saw him at the edge of the riverbank. His eyes were wide with fear as he searched for you, his weapon already holstered, his pursuit of the suspect completely abandoned.

Without hesitation, Parker leapt into the water. The current dragged at him immediately, but he fought against it, his desperate strokes propelling him toward you. You managed to grab onto a jagged rock protruding from the water, clinging to it desperately as he closed the distance.

“Hold on!” he shouted, his voice strained.

When he finally reached you, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you free from the rock and against his chest. You could feel the strength in his grip as he fought to keep both of you above water, his breath ragged as he swam toward the shore.

After what felt like an eternity, Parker dragged you onto the muddy riverbank, collapsing beside you as the two of you gasped for air. Your body trembled violently, both from the cold and the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“Y/N,” Parker rasped, his voice shaky as he sat up and pulled you into his arms. “Oh, thank God. Thank God you’re okay.”

You sank against him, your head resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you tightly, like he couldn’t bear to let go. His hand brushed over your face, wiping away the wet strands of hair clinging to your skin as his eyes searched yours.

“I thought I lost you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Your heart ached at the raw emotion in his words, and without a second thought, you reached up, your hand brushing his cheek. His gaze softened, and before you could even process what was happening, the two of you leaned in at the same time, your lips crashing together in a desperate, breathless kiss.

The kiss was messy, urgent, and filled with days of yearning since your last one. His hands cupped your face as you gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, neither of you caring about the mud or the cold. The kiss was pure, unspoken emotion, a silent confirmation of everything that had been building between you.

When you finally broke apart, you pressed your foreheads together as you tried to catch your breath. The world felt quieter now, the roar of the river fading into the background. Parker’s thumb brushed over your cheek, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were really okay.

You broke the silence first, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “If you apologize again, I swear I’m going to throw you in the river.”

A startled laugh burst from him, the tension breaking as he smiled down at you. “Noted,” he said, his voice warm with amusement.

And then he kissed you again, slower this time, his lips lingering on yours like he wanted to savor every second. As your arms wrapped around each other, the chaos of the day faded into the background. For now, this moment was all that mattered.

[creator-chaos]

Shouma. My sweet summer child. My beautiful little monster boy. How did you get yourself into this situation? (Continued reflection on the divorce after my Hanto ramble. Thank you @necromanticzz!)

Well, the short answer is that Shouma is debilitating incapable of explaining himself, and it's probably because he thinks there isn't any explanation he can offer. Shouma thinks that he is a monster--a selfish monster.

One of the first things we see from him is agreeing that he's a monster, when the motw mocks him for the first little boy's mother's fear. Then Shouma justifies his presence with the fact that there are other monsters for him to stop.

We see a similar pattern after Shouma meets Dente, and then decides that he'll fight Stomach instead of running. Their selfishness is hurting humans, but Shouma can protect humans, so he has a justification to stay with them.

Shouma never approaches the human world as a place he belongs. We see from the flashback of his mother getting pressed that he'd been called a human by his siblings--that aside from his non-functional gavv, he was treated as basically a human. But he never calls himself human after leaving the granute world--once he can't be pressed, and he's around humans, he's a granute from that point forward.

Shouma is obviously a metaphor for multiracial human identity, feeling like he doesn't belong/qualify as any one thing by the standards of that culture. But how he's handled also reminds me of a trans/nonbinary narrative--specifically, the idea that trans people are treated by society as whichever gender would result in the most harm in the situation. Shouma very rarely even calls himself half-human/half-granute--he's just whatever doesn't belong where he is, neither instead of both.

Moving to his relationship with Hanto, the key factor in Shouma deciding that he doesn't have to keep his distance from everyone, and can go back to be with Sachika, is Hanto declaring that he (as a Kamen Rider) isn't a monster. God, it's amazing how Shouma is in the suit, but the acting still manages to portray that he is just bowled over by getting to be seen as a hero, not a monster. He fell in love with Hanto here.

Then, as Shouma spends time with Sachika and Hanto (especially after the Rider identity reveals), we see how afraid he is of them finding out he's a granute. For Sachika, it seems to be a fear of revealing anything that would upset her, would interrupt her happiness (that he decides is his responsibility). For Hanto, it seems to ultimately be a fear of him deciding that Shouma is a monster.

And Shouma does also feel guilty about hiding his identity--he worries about how it can possibly work out--but it never even crosses his mind that explaining himself could have a good outcome. The issue of trust is clearer on Hanto's end, but it's also there for Shouma--he has no trust that anyone would accept him for what he is. It's not even a consideration that he could. To him, it's a choice between, "Should I keep up the lie so we can be happy together? Or should I stop being with them?"

And when I tell you that when Shouma calls himself selfish for wanting to keep up the lie, it absolutely gutted me. That's what he said about Stomach Inc! About them literally eating people! But just wanting to be happy, wanting to not be alone, is selfish to him, because he doesn't think he has any right to it. *wails*

And finally, when Glotta drops the bomb, his only response is to freeze. Even when it's just Lakia asking if he's related to them, Shouma can't reply. (I wonder if he's going to continue to let Lakia think he's all granute?) But he completely shuts down when Hanto confronts him.

Like, if he had been able to respond to Hanto asking if he's a granute by saying "half," that would have changed the entire interaction! It immediately makes clear Shouma's complicated situation and makes space for explanations. But he couldn't--he doesn't see himself as having any claim to humanity where Hanto is concerned. He's a human to granute, and he's a granute to humans, and he has to earn his place anywhere by making others happy enough to justify his presence.

*deep breath* MY BOY IS SO FUCKING LONELY!!! 😭 HIS AND HANTO'S TRAUMAS ARE SO PERFECTLY POSITIONED TO TRIGGER EACH OTHER'S!!! I LOVE GAVV!!!

(Side note, part of why I have so many thoughts on this is that it parallels another obsession, Mairimashita! Iruma-kun, with the compelling approach to belonging and concealed social identities, and especially with the presumption of "predator" and "victim" roles as part of identities.)

[apathyfairy]

i always said that once i stop caring what other people think about me it’s over for you bitches and it’s finally happened i’m literally untouchable

[the-acid-pear]

I never tried the option myself bc it'd probably mean skipping the Reason You Suck speech at the end (fire for speedrunners though) but I Love that you can frame your Phoneys in 3, especially so if you've already killed the previous two. Like yeah couldn't send you off to die so i'll let the goverment do it for me 🧸 like its just Peak evil imo.

[paradigmsofbrittaperry]

I think one of the craziest things that a former object of my affection has ever said to me is “your boyfriend is just a less attractive version of me” like?? why would you say that?? are we still doing a Nick and Jess or are you just deranged?? 

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

repeating my therapists words in my head like the bike message in pokemon

[ghostsprincess]

I can't stop thinking about Ghost being such a gentleman when your boyfriend is an ass....

warning: domestic abuse, adult language

💀

You were mortified that it happened at work this time...

Your boyfriend was a brute of a man, made worse over the months by drinking alone at night while you bartended to help pay down your student debts from several years ago. He got a little rough with you, but only when he was plastered. And you forgave him, because he was decent the rest of the time.

But suddenly you had to start coming to the pub to pull pints with a little extra makeup on your face. The random patrons out for a casual drink wouldn't have noticed, but your regular boys did. You only knew them by Ghost and Soap. They were military and mean looking, but they laughed together like teenage schoolmates. It was always a good night when they sat at the bar, but you could often feel their eyes on you.

"Y' alright, love?" Ghost asked the first night you wore extra eye makeup and a bright red lipstick.

"Yes," you told him, not meeting his eyes. Your face hurt. Your boyfriend had slapped you two days ago. Your skin was puffy and bruised, and you were embarrassed and afraid to move out, so you stayed. "You boys need another round?"

They left you a sizable tip. They always did.

The next time you saw them, your lip was split open, and you were desperate for a way out of the mess your life had turned into. Trying to hide your face while you mixed drinks was a chore, and as soon as Ghost and Soap arrived, you knew it was useless.

When Soap disappeared toward the washrooms, Ghost leaned across the bar, his hulking shoulders taking up more than their fair of space, making you smile slightly. His voice was deep and soft, but his words made you shiver and freeze with your hand on a pint glass. "Y' know, a pretty little thing like you belongs on a pedestal. A man should touch you with reverence."

You stared at him silently as his eyes tracked the mark on your lip. When Soap returned, you didn't charge them a cent for their drink, but they tipped you well anyway.

When a confrontation happened at the bar, tears stung your eyes, and you wanted to hide. Your boyfriend was drunk and angry, and tonight he beckoned you from behind the bar to a dark corner near the hallway where he could have some privacy while he berated you and roughed you up.

"Please," you begged, running your hands nervously on your shirt. "Just go home. I'll be off work in an hour."

"How many of them have you fucked?"

"What?" you gasped, thinking he'd finally lost it. "What are you talking about? I need to get back to work."

He pushed you up against the wall with his other hand on your jaw. "How many of the men here tonight have you fucked?" His thumb brushed the spot on your lip that was nearly healed, and you flinched. "You have the guiltiest expression. So, tell me how much of a slut you've been. As your boyfriend, I need to keep you in line."

Then he was being hauled away from you as your legs shook. With wide eyes, you watched Ghost's massive bicep wrap around his neck like it was nothing. "Y' alright, love?" he asked you softly, and you nodded without saying a word. Then his face darkened, and his voice was an angry snarl as he told your boyfriend, "Ya' been relieved of your duties."

"The fuck?" he responded from his headlock, gasping for air.

Ghost sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fuckin' prick don't even know military protocol." Then he raised his voice a little louder. "I said, ya' been relieved of your duties. I'll take over from here."

Somehow, you found your voice. "Take over?"

Ghost's face softened again when he looked at you there against the narrow hallway wall. "With the boyfriend duties," he told you while Soap dragged your ex-boyfriend toward the exit. "Sound good, love?"

He was holding out his big paw of a hand, palm facing up, and you knew he'd be incapable of using it to hurt you. The softness in his gaze right now and every time he looked at you was proof enough of that. You didn't respond, but you smiled as you slid your hand into his grasp.

"That'll do for now," he grunted.

That was the night you came to know him as Simon.

💀

Part two

[chaepink]

can u make headcannons on sub!yan’s tendencies in the relationship?

also can i be 🉑 or 🌝 anon?

dating sub!yandere boys hcs ♡

sub!yandere boys when they date you.

wc: 1.1k+ words | masterlist

dom!fem!reader, unhealthy relationship, mention of killing/murder, both sfw and nsfw!, mention of feminization, bondage

note: yes you can be 🌝 anon!

— your yandere would be possessive of you, even more compared to when you two were just friends

— well, you thought you two were just friends. he already assumed you two were together sometime earlier during his friendship with you

— he would do anything for you in order to make sure you're happy and safe

— a friend of yours is getting too touchy with you? well the next day that friend is ignoring you and when you confront them, they look at you scared and quickly scurry away from you. did your yandere do something to them? surely not

— a weird guy keeps following you around your neighborhood? well a couple of days later you see on the news that his body has been found near a river and weirdly enough, you havent seen your yandere on the days before the guy's death

— you complain to your yandere about how a teacher gave you a bad grade on something you worked so hard on? suddenly your grade changes to a A and that same exact teacher suddenly resigns from the school

— he'll try his best to know where you are most of the time and try to follow you back home to make sure you're safe (though its really obvious, you don't acknowledge him so he thinks he's actually doing something)

— but no matter how scary and possessive they are of you, they just want to be good for you, really

— its almost as if they're a puppy for you, always there for your beck and call

— give them a simple command and they'll do it immediately, no questions asked

— ask them to buy you a snack from the nearest store? he'll return back with a bagful of others that he thought you would like

— they're super clingy and always want to be near you

— somehow they manage to have the same exact classes that you have and at the same time. maybe you guys are just lucky? little do you know that your yandere hacked into the principal's computer to change his schedule to fit with yours

— if you're sick, they would immediately fetch you some medicine and make so many bowls of your favorite soup that you're not sure you could finish them all

— they would be so sad when you're sick cause that means they can't be as close as they usually are with you :(

— in bed, nothing changes at all. rather, he becomes even more infatuated with you

— they're still so good and obedient for you, always following your commands. its cute

— like what i said with him doing it with no hesitation, your yandere is eager to do what you say

— tell him to get on his knees? say less as he's already doing so, staring up at you with such innocent eyes

— tell him to open his mouth for you to stick your fingers inside? he opens wide and sticks out his tongue in such a sinful manner, hazy eyes absolutely begging you to make him choke on your fingers as drool drips down his chin

— order him to suck your strap and get it all wet? he's quick to get in between your legs and get his hands on the fake dick, his mouth going straight to bobbing it up and down and gagging as it hits the back of his throat. he'll try to subtly grind his hard on against your foot without you noticing but you do anyways but he's being a good boy so you allow it

— and oh my god is he so shameless in public

— no hesitation in telling you what he wants you to do to him when there are people around

— you'll be at brunch with some of your friends and suddenly you'll feel a hot breath on your ear, such sinful words coming soon after

"im wearing lingerie under my clothes, your favorite set too. wouldn't you like to just ruin me right here and now? make me cry and look so pretty while you show everyone im yours?"

— safe to say that you immediately dragged him to the family bathroom and fingered him until he was gripping onto you for dear life, begging and crying out for you to stop and take pity on him (he's lying about wanting you to stop)

— when you're out with errands or just at work, he'll take such sinful pictures of himself to send to you randomly

— the pictures would include his legs spread out, a obvious bulge in his underwear, and something adorning his body whether its lingerie, a maid outfit, or rope that's tied so tightly on him

— if he's feeling like teasing you even more, he'll send whimpering audios that beg you to come home and fuck him and if you listen close enough, you'll hear some wet noises that let you know that he's masturbating

"f-fuck, [name] come back s-soon, please? i-i miss you so much! i- ah! i-im wearing your favorite outfit right now! i'll be a g-good ngh boy waiting for you ♡"

— itll end up with you rushing home after you're finished to fuck him dumb in that outfit, making it stained with his tears and cum

— he knows you can't really get him pregnant but your yandere just loves those straps with cum in them that you can just shoot inside him whenever you're fucking him fast and rough

— that'll make his eyes roll back and head throw backwards as he lets out such a loud mewl at the feeling of your fake cum filling him up

— and afterwards he'll tease you by using his fingers to push the cum thats gushing out of his hole back in before licking his fingers

— although your yandere is a good boy for you most of the time, theres times where he's a brat

— he'll talk back to you whenever you command him to do something or cum without permission

— but just some long edging or overstimulation will break him and turn him into a sobbing mess

— tying his hands to the headboard and keeping his legs spread apart whilst a vibrator is inside him on the highest setting is his favorite punishment

— your yandere thinks you don't know that since you do it all the time but you actually do know it, you just love the way his face is stained with his drool and tears while his chest and the sheets underneath him is covered in his cum afterwards

— such a slut but we love him for it

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[flwrkid14]

Tim and Danny: The Couple That Could Have Been

Tim Drake and Danny Fenton weren’t just Gotham’s it couple—they were the couple.

Tim, the poised and brilliant CEO, and Danny, the charismatic streamer with a chaotic streak, were the kind of pair that inspired faith in love. Their relationship was public but never performative. The candid photos, the impromptu livestreams where Danny would drag Tim into the frame to tease him about his “ridiculously expensive suits,” the way Tim would smile when he thought no one was looking—it all seemed so real, so untouchable.

For years, they were inseparable, the picture of what love should look like. And Gotham believed in them. People joked that they’d be together in every timeline, every universe, because how could they not be? They were made for each other.

So when Danny uploaded a new video one unassuming Tuesday, everyone thought they knew what was coming.

The engagement announcement.

Danny’s setup was different this time—gone were the familiar vibrant backgrounds and playful chaos. The walls were bare, his face somber, his voice quieter than anyone had ever heard.

“Tim and I…” He paused, swallowing hard. “We’ve decided to go our separate ways.”

What?

No, that couldn’t be right.

This was Tim and Danny. The couple everyone was convinced would make it through anything. The couple people joked would find each other in every timeline, every universe, because it was always them.

But Danny kept talking, his voice trembling as he explained—without really explaining—that they couldn’t make it work. No details, no messy drama, just a quiet goodbye that left everyone feeling like the air had been stolen from the room.

———

The Batfamily found out the same way everyone else did—through Danny’s video. They hadn’t even realized anything was wrong. The last time they saw Tim and Danny together, they’d been the same as always: teasing, bantering, comfortable in each other’s presence.

Bruce was the first to confront Tim about it, cornering him in the Manor with that familiar stern frown.

“Tim, what happened?”

Tim didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Because he didn’t know either.

Danny had been the one to end it. One day they were fine—perfect, even—and the next, he was breaking up with Tim over coffee, quiet and somber, like he was grieving something Tim couldn’t see.

“I just… we can’t,” Danny had said, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry, Tim. I love you. I’ll always love you. But we can’t keep doing this.”

And that was it. No further explanation.

Now, Tim was left packing up his things from the apartment they’d shared, trying to piece together what went wrong. Danny was on the other side of the room, just as quiet, boxing up his own belongings. They didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

The space between them had never felt so vast.

“I love you,” Danny had said, his voice breaking. “I’ll always love you. But I can’t… we can’t keep doing this.”

And just like that, it was over.

And Danny? Danny knew exactly why.

———

Danny Fenton was a coward.

He’d gone to Clockwork for help after the first heartbreak, unable to bear the thought of living in a world without Tim Drake. He couldn’t undo the pain of losing Tim to the Justice League’s doomed mission, but he could relive the good years.

Clockwork had hesitated.

“This is dangerous, Daniel,” he warned, but Danny didn’t care. He didn’t want to forget Tim. He didn’t want to move on.

So Clockwork granted him his wish.

Again and again, Danny went back. Every time their relationship reached the point of no return—where Tim’s inevitable death loomed on the horizon—Danny would break up with him, retreat to Clockwork, and start over. He couldn’t bear to see Tim die, not again.

But the cycle wasn’t perfect. The cracks showed with each repetition. Danny’s breakups became harder to explain, his excuses more transparent. He could see the hurt in Tim’s eyes, the way his walls went up higher and higher with every iteration.

And still, Danny went back.

Because he couldn’t stop.

Because he couldn’t let go.

———

This time, though, it was different.

This time, as he packed his things, Danny felt the weight of what he’d done pressing down on him like never before. Tim wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even questioning it anymore.

He just looked tired.

And Danny hated himself for being the reason why.

The world moved on, but Gotham felt the loss of Tim and Danny like a phantom limb.

The bats watched Tim retreat further into himself, his work becoming his sole focus, an impenetrable wall between him and everyone else. They wanted answers, but Tim wouldn’t give them. And Danny? Danny disappeared from Gotham entirely, his absence leaving a wound that never seemed to heal. Maybe that’s why Tim would find himself on that mission, before Danny's loop restarted everything again—caught in the endless cycle of fate, unaware of how close he was to losing it all for good.

Clockwork didn’t say anything when Danny returned again, his face pale and his hands shaking. He just stared at Danny with quiet pity, his form shifting through time as if he were trying to decide what version of himself could make Danny stop.

“You can’t keep doing this, Daniel,” Clockwork said softly.

Danny didn’t answer.

Because he knew he’d be back.

Because he couldn’t stop.

Because he’d rather relive the heartbreak a thousand times than face another world where Tim Drake was gone for good.

[taeyongdoyoung]

that's a warning

summary: your professor's age is not a problem to you. and neither is his dark secret... pairing: professor!chan x uni student!reader genre: dark academia, vampire!au, smut warnings: professor/student dynamic, age gap (unspecified), mentions of toxic friend, descriptions of blood, kissing, biting, eating out, blowjob, daddy kink (who's surprised?), ddlg implied, size kink, unprotected sex, forbidden relationship, insecurities, danger kink author's note: this is based on a dream i had + inspired by railway, obviously. read at your own risk 🥵 too many references to the song's lyrics in bold, sawrryyy word count: 3k

The moment you set your eyes on Professor Bang, you know that you need to have him. You've never felt an attraction so intense, so overpowering, so sinister in its obsession. You are willing to go to any lengths to get close to him. Even if it kills you.

It starts off innocent, almost childlike. The way you stay after his lectures to ask him silly questions (you know the answers to) about the homework. Sometimes you ask him about the location of other lecture halls (even though you've been to them hundreds of times). Sometimes you go to his office hours just to be alone with him (even though you are perfectly confident in understanding the study material).

At first, Chan accepts your incessant flood of questions with an easy-going smile. If he's being honest with himself, he likes the attention. It's been a while since someone's been that interested in talking to him. Especially someone so…young. Most students usually avoid his intense stare. He's been told it's far too intimidating. He tries to be welcoming to everyone but he's not sure he's doing a good job.

But as the semester nears its end, his patience wears thin. You always get full marks on your assignments and quizzes so he doesn't understand why you are constantly asking for his "help". And he's certain you know your way around the university better than any other student. You're always on time and your homework is flawless 100% of the time. So, he really doesn't get it. Are you messing with him? Is it funny to you to joke around with a poor old lonely professor?

Chan's decided he's had enough. And this time, when you catch him alone after the lecture, he's going to confront you.

"Cut the act," Professor Bang scolds you directly. "I know you know the answer to that question. Why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing what, Professor Bang?" you ask innocently, while batting your eyelashes.

"Pretending you're dumb. It's obvious you're a top student, so why are you always asking me stuff?" he grunts and pins you down with his intense gaze you're so addicted to.

Hell, you've never felt more terrified. It excites you.

"Don't you know already?" you mumble quietly. You want to look away but you're trapped in his beautiful dark eyes. So you don't.

"Is it fun, messing with an old man like me, huh? Is it some stupid college dare?" Chan asks, his insecurities getting the worst of him.

"You're not old," you insist passionately. "There's no dare. I just…like you."

"You…like me?" he repeats in disbelief.

You nod furiously, trying to convince him of your sincerity.

"But…why?"

"What do you mean why? You're so smart and handsome and sometimes even cute. I like…how you explain stuff like you don't think anyone is dumb, you're so patient and…warm."

Huh. Warm? It's been a while since someone's used that word to describe him, Chan thought.

"You do realize we could both get in trouble if…" he can't even believe he's even considering this. "If we were to…pursue something outside of the university walls?"

Fuck it, he said it.

"I know. I won't tell anyone, I promise," you are desperately grasping at straws as you find yourself so close to the one thing you've ever wanted more than anything.

Professor Bang shakes his head.

"I'm not asking you to keep it a complete secret. Just…if you choose to share it with people, be careful who you trust."

"I understand, Professor, I'll be careful," you promise.

"And…call me Chris or Chan or something," he shrugs. "When it's just us two."

God. It's really happening.

"Let me take you out to a restaurant," he offers suddenly. "Tomorrow evening?"

"That sounds amazing!" you grin excitedly.

Your first date with Chan arrives and you are so happy you feel like you could die. You don't wanna jinx things so soon and don't tell anyone where you're going.

"You look stunning," he compliments your dress as he pulls a chair out for you.

"Thank you so much, Chris," you smile and take a seat. "You look absolutely dashing, as always."

He chuckles but doesn't respond rightaway.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just…I don't hear that much. Especially not from beautiful young women such as yourself."

"You're surely joking?" you frown. "Anyone would kill to be in my shoes right now."

"You're too kind," Chan replies, not seeming to believe your words and you decide to drop the subject. For now. "What would you like to drink?"

"Hmm…maybe some red wine?"

"Good choice," he smirks. "And food?"

"I'm really into pasta these days!" you squeal with excitement.

Chris orders for the two of you, making your heart flutter for the hundredth time. He's just…so dependable.

Till the food arrives, you busy yourselves with getting to know each other better. Outside of the university walls, it turns out you are both passionate about things other than academic endeavours. And with each glass of red, it becomes easier to share stuff about yourself with him.

As the evening nears its natural conclusion, Chan insists on paying the bill for the food and drinks.

"Now I feel bad," you pout adorably, clinging onto his arm for support, because all the wine made your legs slightly unstable. "Let's go for coffee!"

"I don't…really drink coffee," Chris confesses shyly.

"Tea, then! Please, I don't want to go home just yet. This night is so perfect, I don't want it to end."

"Okay, okay," he agrees easily.

You lead the way to one of your favourite cafés. This time, you excitedly pay for the warm beverages.

"It's snowing outside!" you marvel at the pretty snowflakes falling, illuminated by the street lights.

"Good thing we're all cozy and inside, then," Chan chuckles.

"Yeah…" you smile softly. "I really like you, Chan," you admit.

"I know, you said that a couple of times," he shakes his head, amused.

"Yes, but…you didn't say anything. Do you like me, too?" you inquire self-consciously.

"I do like you. You're very clever and funny and obviously super pretty."

"Really?" you blink furiously to stop yourself from tearing up. You don't get to hear something like that by someone you admire so much. Someone who inspires you to be as diligent and hard-working as him. Scratch that. You don't get to hear words like that very often. It sometimes strikes you how badly you need to be acknowledged for your efforts.

"You must know that."

"No, actually, I don't," you smile sadly. "But it's really nice of you to say it. True or not."

Chan stretches his hand out across the table to hold yours.

"Hey. It's true, okay?"

"Guess I'll stick around to find out, yeah? And maybe I'll help you believe it, too," you suggest.

"Maybe. I'd really like that."

And stick around you do. The next semester, Chan is no longer your Professor, so you don't have to worry so much about getting in trouble with the university's authorities. Eventually, as things start becoming more serious, you decide to share the news about your boyfriend's identity with a few of your closest friends.

Luckily, most of them are super supportive and happy about your relationship. They tell you that you've looked happier recently and are pleased to finally know the reason. There is one friend, however, who is completely against.

"I don't approve. You can't date him," she outright says.

"Can't? Excuse me?" you become aggravated. You've had some fights in the past, situations when she's been jealous of you hanging out with other friends and has done some toxic stuff behind your back. So, her reaction doesn't come as a complete surprise. But still, it sucks that she hasn't outgrown this kind of pettiness.

"He's like…too old for you. And the fact he was your Professor is just…gross."

"How can you say that? You've never even met him."

"Then, let me meet him."

"Why would you meet him if you've already made up your mind?"

"To make sure he's worthy of you, duh."

"That's my call to make. Not yours."

And with that, you leave. This is just…too much. Later, you talk to another friend about this situation to get a second opinion.

"Nah, fuck her. I mean, it's your relationship, she can't dictate how you feel or who you're seeing romantically."

"Right? That's exactly what I've been thinking."

"It sucks that she said those stuff but maybe you're better off," your other friend shrugs.

"Yeah…For the time being, I'll distance myself from her. If she starts acting like an adult, only then will I consider letting her back in."

"That's totally valid," your friend agrees. "Take your time and look after your mental health."

"Thank you so much. I knew you'd get it."

"Always!"

Soon after that, you hang out at Chan's place and you decide to talk talk to him about the falling-out with that toxic friend.

"Well, technically, I am too old for you."

"The fuck you are! Are you taking her side?" you cry out passionately.

"Hell, no! I'm just saying…you could find any college guy your age and…"

"No, shut up, Chris!" you shake your head, refusing to entertain such an idea. "I don't want anyone but you!"

"But I'm dangerous for you," Chan sighs. But you can't believe that. He's been nothing but kind and accepting in the short time you've known each other.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"You'd think I'm crazy if I told you," he grins somewhat devilishly. "It'd be better if I showed you instead. But then, I'd have to kill you."

"W-what?" you stammer, his behaviour totally unlike the gentle guy you're used to seeing.

Suddenly, Chris grabs your wrist and starts pulling you somewhere.

"W-where are we g-going?" you ask helplessly but he doesn't respond. He's too strong to fight him back so you just try to keep up with his speed and follow him down the stairs and into the basement. Where you'll find answers to questions you didn't even know you were supposed to be asking.

When he unlocks the door, you are greeted with red. A lot of it.

"What is all this?"

"Come on, sweetheart, I thought you were smarter than that," Chris chuckles.

"It's…blood banks," you state the obvious, feeling dumber than ever.

"Wow, you don't say," Chris replies sarcastically.

"Why…why do you have all this blood in your basement? Is it like a…kink thing?!" you gasp in shock.

"No, darling, it's not a kink thing," he laughs, the idea incredibly amusing. "Take a guess."

"Are you a serial killer?" you try to think of a logical explanation.

"You're too realistic," Chris sighs. "Think…something you never thought possible."

"You're…a vampire!" you exclaim triumphantly.

"Bingo," he confirms unenthusiastically. "So, your friend was correct to worry. I am too old for you. And bad for you. I never should have let this go so far."

You shake your head.

"N-no, she's not right," you disagree. "I don't care."

"You don't care?" Chris tilts your chin up, facing you directly. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to restrain myself from sucking your blood dry?"

You gulp nervously but refuse to believe he'd actually do that. Especially considering he hasn't done so already…

"Why did you become a Professor surrounded by so many humans if self-control is so hard for you?" you push back cleverly.

"It's never been a problem for me to control my thirst. Until you."

"Then, why did you let me get so close?" you inquire.

"Because I was weak…And lonely. I shouldn't have let you in."

Your eyes tear up with emotion.

"Are you saying you'd be happier without me?"

"Happier?" Chris scoffs. "No, I wouldn't be happier. But you would be safer without me."

"Fuck that," you argue. "I am safe when it's just you and me. Knowing you're a vampire changes nothing about how I feel about you."

"Then, you're even more insane than I am," Chris sighs, unable to deny the growing tension between you two.

You kiss him roughly to prove him right, digging your fingers into his soft hair. He kisses you back just as hungrily, incapable of letting you go.

Yes, he may be dangerous for you. But so are you. Willingly pursuing him, not running away from him despite knowing the truth.

He grabs your hair and pulls back, exposing your neck.

"Last chance to get out of here. That's a warning," Chris whispers darkly.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you grin, completely trusting him.

Even if he was your Professor, even if he is way older than you than you initially thought, even if he is a blood-sucking predator, there is no one else you'd trust so unconditionally, so irrevocably.

"What if I hurt you?" he asks, a hint of worry making his dark eyes glow with warmth.

"You couldn't," you insist and close your eyes, tilting your neck. "You can bite me, if you want."

"You're crazy," Chris repeats.

"I trust you," you speak your thoughts out loud.

And this is his breaking point. He attacks your neck with his sharp fangs, not wanting to hold back any longer. The bite stings but in such a sweet way you would be happy to go, if this was your fate…As he drinks from you, you weakly wrap your hands around his neck for support, needing him to ground you. Just as badly as he needed one taste from your delicious blood. If your blood is what Chris needs for survival, then he will surely be your undoing.

Somehow, against all reason, Chan manages to detach his fangs from your neck.

"Fuck," he caresses your neck, smearing the blood all over your porcelain skin. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you murmur dazedly. "I'm okay."

He holds you close, kissing your cheeks and trying to clean up the mess he made.

"Let's get out of here," Chan suggests and lifts you in his arms, carrying you back to the coziness of his place.

"I don't mind," you reassure him. "You being a vampire, that is. I love every part about you. I love...you."

"You…love me?" Chan gasps in surprise.

"I do, I love you," you say once again for good measure.

He doesn't say anything, just kisses you again in disbelief. You hug him tightly, finding so much comfort in his arms. Whatever you've heard about vampires doesn't apply to Chan. He's radiating so much warmth you feel you could burn.

"Hold on tight," he warns and you grip the headboard top rail for dear life, as Chan makes sure to show you blood is not the only thing he's interested in drinking.

As he laps up your juices greedily, you find yourself on the verge of losing your sanity. Your hands give out and you let go of the bed's railings and opt for burying your fingers into his curls once more for support.

"Chris, please, please," you cry out, not even sure what you're begging for. For him to stop? For sweet release? It doesn't matter, as long as he stays with you.

Soon enough, your prayers are answered and you start seeing stars floating in the middle of the room.

"Did I kill you already?" he laughs upon seeing your reaction.

"Try harder," you tease him, even though you are already so gone.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Chris shrugs.

He takes off his jeans and stuffs your mouth full with his giant cock. You try to babble something but it's no use and your helplessness only turns him on more. You hug the back of his knees and let him fuck your throat as he pleases, even though you don't have much of a choice in the matter. Your vision is cloudy with tears and you can't even ask for mercy as his cum starts flooding your mouth. If you thought him drinking your blood was overwhelming, this is on a whole 'nother level of dizzying.

Once he's done using and abusing your throat, he pulls his cock out, smirking at you from above.

"You okay, sweetheart? Still alive?"

"Y-yes, d-daddy," you manage to croak out weakly.

Chris shakes his head in amusement upon hearing the sudden title.

"Then, I guess Daddy's gonna have to give ya a rough ride so you'll forget your own name, huh? How does that sound?"

"More, please," you plead desperately and he makes good on his promise.

He enters you without another warning and you can't keep your screams inside.

"G-god, y-yes," you moan.

"God isn't in this room, darling," Chris cackles maniacally. "The devil, however…"

You kiss him again because he's talking so much your brain can't keep up.

"S-so b-big," you cry.

"Yeah? Too big for my little girl?" he teases you.

"N-no. P-perfect. You're perfect," you insist stubbornly.

Chris fucks into you with supernatural stamina and you are grateful for that because even though you want to, you aren't able of keeping pace with him. Instead, you are happy to just hold onto him and focusing all your energy into…well, not passing out. You're so wet for him that his enormous size slides in and out easily, satisfying both of you with the intensity of the feeling. At last, you cum together, overwhelmed by the passion and affection you feel for each other.

He collapses on top of you, not wanting to pull out just yet. You welcome his weight like he's a giant blanket, comforting you.

"Don't wanna let go of you," Chan murmurs cutely.

You stroke his hair once more with a gentle touch. How is this man who has so many more years of experience still such a cute boy, desperate for tenderness?

"Then, don't. I'm all yours to keep," you chuckle weakly.

"That wouldn't be very productive to our academic future," Chan complains.

"It's okay. I feel like we've both earned a little break," you point out.

"From university? Sure. But when it comes to us two…I need no break. No brakes."

"Nicely said," you giggle, ready for another round on this train that never sleeps.

The End

[anonymous-existences]

DCXDP Prompt 13 :

@demonic0angel I'm gonna borrow a bit of your 'First Burn' Prompt If ya don't mind <33 just a teeny bit(cuz song hehe) and make it more ANGSTY!!

Danny and Bruce are divorced, Only Dick knew they were together, Danny and Bruce's love started in college, oh how their love and passion were true and gentle, everyone around them wished them happy memories.

But as Bruce took the Mantle of Batman, He never told Danny, neither did Alfred have the heart to tell Danny that he was always getting into dangerous situations as he roamed around Gotham as a Vigilante, Sneaking out at night from their bed.

Bruce and Danny both adopted Dick, Little Richard 'Dick' Grayson, Danny's little boy, his precious little star. Bruce saw how much Danny cared for Dick, Bruce thought Dick could be a distraction for Danny so Danny doesn't notice his secret Vigilante nightlife.

....

Danny knew. He knew everything alright. Danny tries to not cry every night as he feels Bruce sneak away in the middle of the night, every whispers of love that Bruce utters to Danny felt like lies, Danny knew he had secrets too, His Past Vigilante life as a teenager is something he never told Bruce.

But this is something Danny is slowly breaking himself into denial, His husband is a vigilante, that's fine, he was fine with that, but the way he interacted with other women made Danny's heart break, even other heroes... Too close, Too Intimate, Too Comfortable.

Danny stopped following Bruce everytime he left by that time, he felt so hurt and so insecure of himself everytime he saw 'Batman' Interact with those others so.. closely.

It made Danny's core scream in doubt and his emotions derailing into confronting Bruce.

He thought Confronting Bruce about his nightly sneaking would get Bruce to finally trust Danny with the information about Him being Batman but no, it made Danny doubt so much more, Days of constant fight and reuniting, His Little Boy, Dick , and Alfred was the last thing keeping Danny in mental order, Organized and Composed as he always should be. Even if Bruce is Acting like a Playboy Brucie Wayne.

He tried to do what Jazz would have done but nothing FUCKING worked and Danny was always on edge, he felt that everything his husband said was a lie, he loved Bruce but why won't Bruce trust him? Please... please, just tell him the truth, I won't be mad. Please. Just tell me. Tell me everything. TELL ME! PLEASE! IM BEGGING YOU! JUST TELL M—

Danny loves Bruce, But as day passes, that love slowly felt one sided.

....

Dick didn't mean it, it was supposed to be a harmless little prank, he didn't know how rocky Bruce and Danny's Marriage was, he didn't know. He really didn't.

He didn't know a picture of Batman with Selina would seal it off. He didn't know a single lipstick would finish it all. He was only a child. It was his fault. He felt that it was his fault— why wouldn't he? He didn't know.. he really didn't.

Danny and Bruce screamed, it was nothing that Dick could have ever heard before, he didn't know at all. He really didn't.... It was only supposed to be a prank.. He didn't mean it...

...

Bruce soon took in Jason, Dick noticed how much Jason looked like Danny, Dick wanted to yell, he wanted to scream at Bruce, He wanted to confront him about passing the mantle to Jason— but... It's no use fighting against someone that's like Bruce. Not like Batman.

Dick secretly kept contact with Danny and his Family, Dani And Jazz was still his aunt as they lived in Bludhaven, he could always go to them as Nightwing and they'd know to help him without questioning. Dick felt bad everytime he did. He felt as though he was burdening the family of the person who's marriage he ruined, his own Father.

The only Father who could actually handle and was a real father.

Everything passed by so quickly.

Jason Died.

Tim Was adopted and he became Robin.

Jason came back to life.

Dick immediately took Jason to Danny.

Damian Came into their lives. Dick felt his blood Boil when Damian did but he couldn't blame Damian, Dick accepted Damian with a whole heart, acting like the Danny which the Manor Lost because of Bruce.

He will be the person who loved everyone, just like Danny, even if sometimes it's tiring— he just needs to keep being the Father of these children that Bruce struggles to be, It's the only Way Dick could honor Danny.

...

Bruce misses Danny Dearly, he regrets many things.

But the one he regrets the most is...

Losing Danny.

Danny and Bruce are Divorced Because Bruce Fucked up with being Batman and didn't tell the truth, Dick wanted to do a little prank cuz a kid will do pranks and snuck a lipstick on Bruce's coat and a picture of Selina with a kiss mark on it. Danny and Bruce's marriage are rocky as fuck, Dick secretly takes the other Wayne kids to Danny and they come to love Danny as their father much like Dick is attached to Danny, Jazz and Dani are the Wayne's Therapists. Specifically Jazz, she's the Best, Uncle Dan is Jason's Favorite mechanic.

Bruce Misses Danny dearly and wants him back and will try and probably try to court Danny again, nonstop as Batman, Danny still loves Bruce and hadn't moved on, His core is very much attached and embedded in the memory and love of Bruce Wayne, thus he is just waiting for Bruce to finally step up.

Yes this was Angsty, I apologize <33 but yes.

[luvyeni]

⠀ ( drabble ) baby fever ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 마크이 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ finally confronting mark about his baby fever  ヾ

boyfriend!mark・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ ‎ unprotected sex , ‎breeding kink , dirty talk ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎0.5k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. hi you have the vision baby, mark has baby fever fic please, pretty please 🥺🥺 & since you're taking requests, maybe something with nct dream? or even just mark, my ult bias original husband loml..........

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you don't mind i combined them , also happy birthday or belated birthday cause you didn't specify which day it was 🫶🏽.

you seen the signs; the lingering looks at baby clothes in stores; the smiling lovingly at the kids you'd pass playing on the playground, liking the celebrity children photos when he truly never cared before — but that wasn't it , he began to rub your stomach, whether he noticed or not you didn't know , but you did know one thing and you really didn't need a confirmation , but you wanted one anyway.

“you wanna have baby?” the boy was stunned. “h-huh?” you smiled , climbing into his lap on the couch. “what are you talking about?” he asked , coughing nervously. “i've watched you for the past few weeks, and unless your brother is having a baby, i think you want a baby.”

“i-im sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.” he stuttered. “you could've told me though.” you said, kissing his neck. “it is me you want to have a baby with right?” he nodded. “of course baby, who else would i want to have a baby with?” he took control, flipping you over so you were on your back. “mark.”

“i want nothing more than to fuck you until you're pregnant with my baby.” his lips were on yours, you moaned out his name. “m-mark i'm still on birth control.” you laughed, tugging at his hair , he looked at you with want in his eyes. “doesn't mean we can't practice right?” he said, pulling down your pants. “i can still fuck you raw right now.’

he wasted no time pushing his hard cock into your waiting hole; you giving him the go to fuck you raw made him hard. “fuck you're so tight baby.” he began to thrust into you. “so fucking warm.” he moaned , holding your hand above your head. “ma-mark please.” you whined. “de-deeper please.” panting above you , his cock stretching you out deliciously. “you like my cock baby?” he cursed. “gonna let me fuck a baby inside you?” you nodded. “pl-please.”

“fu-fuck you'll look so cute with my baby.” he began to pound into you faster. “all pregnant and swollen because of me.” he released your hands , allowing you to run your hands up his shirt , scratching his back. “sh-shit baby.” he hissed. “gonna fill you up real good.” he whispered into your ear. “gonna flood your pussy with my cum.”

your legs were wrapped around his waist , he kept pounding into you. “ma-mark im gonna cum.” you moaned. “yeah?” he grunted. “cum for me baby, cum all over my dick.” he moaned as you tightened around him , mouth dropping over as you came , he cursed. “sh-shit im gonna cum.” he moaned , his thrust faltering before you could feel his warm sticky cum shooting deeply into your womb. “fu-fuck baby that's it , take my cum.”

he slowly stops his thrust; keeping you plugged with his cum. “fuck i love you so much.” he kissed your lips. “so so much baby.” he pulled out of you , him cum leaking from your hole. “sh-shit i wish you weren't on your birth control.” you laughed. “you really want a baby that bad?” he nodded. “so fucking bad.” he groaned.

“gonna keep fucking you until you're for sure pregnant with my baby.”

©LUVYENI