#when parker is the master mind

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

Oh, don't mind me- I'm just trying to build a story about how when Parker was the master mind and Eliot was running ragged to help him relax (and sleep/doze,) she'd play with his hair. Eliot's sitting on the floor with his head on her lap and hair fanned over her jeans. All the while Hardison is sitting beside Parker playing computer games, his knee pressed against Eliot's shoulder.

Eliot's humming/purring and Hardison is slowly falling asleep and leaning closer, until eventually Hardison's head is on Parker's shoulder. And Parker is happy and content because she's safe and her boys are happy...

Is this sappy? Ridiculous? Has this been done before?

*sigh*

Maybe I won't write it...

[satoshy12]

Amity Parker Don't understand other Hero cities.

And started a massive pilgrimage to Amity Park.

It all started when a few people from Amity Park went on a field trip to other hero cities and got very confused pretty fast. - What do you mean people die here so often in hero fights? - What do you mean by buildings getting destroyed and not fixed? (blob Ghost do that all the time, they seem to love it!) Are your hero not doing their job!!!?

At first, the people of Gotham, Metropolis, Coast City, Bludhaven, or Dakoto City were pissed, but after the people of Amity Park just said they should stay a few weeks in their city, they would notice it. After one week in the new city,  most people moved out of their city to Amity Park. While this city had once a week has a world-ending threat, that threat seems to just have fun with the child hero in a fight. And those people helped them. The Victims of Scarecrow actually got help from the Master of Fear Fright Knight, who fixed their minds.

Number 1 rule in Amity Park - Don't feed the tiny cryptid Fenton after 10 p.m.; the last time we had winter in the summer was because of that. - Yes, they are fangs, and they are real. Don't try to let yourself be bitten. When he slept, the last one almost lost their hand. + The other Hero in their cities didn't take long to notice it, that they have significantly fewer people living in their cities. Like most of their cities, they lost 30–50% of their civilians! And no one seems to want to tell them where they are, as more civilians are leaving!

[chronic-escapixt]

A Deal with the Devil

witch!Kai x Bennett!reader

content warnings/tags ~ Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY, Dark fiction, smut, dubcon, cnc kidnapping, choking, rough sex, corruption, p in v, forced orgasm, unprotected sex, degradation, Kai is mean af..

word count: 2.4k

summary: you have to make a deal with Kai to save Elena after he kidnaps her

You’re speeding down the street to your old high school, praying that the fire burning in your gut would sustain you when you finally confront Kai Parker. When you overheard Damon and Bonnie discussing Elena’s disappearance in hushed voices, you immediately knew this had Kai’s name written all over it. Though unsure of how kidnapping Elena fit into his master plan, you knew the outcome could be catastrophic if someone didn’t intervene soon and it would be your fault.

While the others waited on Jo to concoct a proper plan, you slipped quietly out the front door. Sneaking around wasn’t your norm, but you couldn’t risk Damon or Bonnie trying to stop you. Your circle of friends couldn’t seem to wrap their heads around your being anything other than Bonnie’s useless little sister, often sheltering you from the dangers of the supernatural world. You knew they meant well but you couldn’t shake the feeling that they underestimated you and the constant need to prove yourself loomed over as you didn’t want to be the weakest link and a burden.

Still, if you had run your “plan” by them, they’d be right in telling you it was a suicide mission. Even as a Bennett witch, you’re no match for Kai, especially after he sucked up all the magic from the boundary spell on the town. His body’s teeming with it all the way down to his fingertips and paired with his moral depravity, he’s scarier than the devil. Even Damon, who was known to act on impulse- especially when it came to Elena- opted to come up with a plan instead.

Your doubt doesn't hit you until you enter the school. The low lights and empty halls, save for a few crumpled papers on the floor, creates an ominous ambience that sets you on edge. You turn your head and jump from every noise or movement you see from the corner of your eye. You’re unsure if he knew you were here and was just toying with you. It was always a game with Kai, like he got some sick amusement from stalking his prey before putting them out of their misery.

So what’s your plan when you did finally find him? Surely he’d torture you right along side Elena if not kill you dead on the spot for wasting his time. He’d already made it abundantly clear that you meant nothing to him- even after all you’d gone through together.

You met him in the 1994 prison world and naively believed every lie he told. You chose to not only help him but befriend him. That quickly turned into something much more- or at least it was for you- falling victim to his witty charm and seductive eyes. Early on, it was long conversations they had you feeling like you’d known him forever soon devolving into him eyefucking you over dinner before placing you on the table and feasting on your gooey center for dessert. He took pleasure in corrupting your innocent mind with his intoxicating advances until you were addicted to him, taking advantage of your fogged up instincts so that you never realized he was just using you.

That is, until you did the spell. When you both crossed the threshold between worlds it was like a switch went off in his head. He changed, becoming cruel and sardonic, no sign of the thoughtful guy you cared for behind those empty eyes. You were just a means to an end who had served her purpose.

Nonetheless you continue on, though warily. Part of you refuses to believe he’s just a heartless sociopath, that maybe there’s a shred of the guy you met weeks ago still inside him that you could reason with.

You hear the rumbling of the vending machine around the corner. Peaking your head out, you see him bending over to lift a can of soda before cracking it open and taking a casual sip like he didn’t have a hostage he was torturing somewhere in the school. You can’t help but notice the way the gray MFHS tee was tight along his back, hugging his biceps as they flexed, each rope along his defined arms you had memorized by touch. He’s already distracting you and he isn’t even trying.

He suddenly glances back and you duck behind the wall, hoping he didn’t see you. Your heart knocks around against your ribs as a fear takes root like the anticipation of certain death mixed with the self consciousness of bumping into an ex. You want to run but you thought of Elena and your guilt turns your stomach sour. You take a sharp breath and turn, stopping abruptly before your nose collides with the middle of his chest.

“Hey, Rosy. This is a surprise..” Kai scrutinizes you under his hardened gaze, openly raking his eyes down your body.

He sips at his drink while you gather at your words, only a timid “hi…” squeaking past your lips.

Kai lowers his soda once he drains it and tosses the husk into the nearby recycling before crossing his arms, head cocked in amusement with a crooked smile playing on his lips. “What are you doing here? No wait- let me guess, you couldn’t get enough of me, huh?”

Your throat goes dry and you shake your head, “NO- no… it’s not like that- I-”

He waves his hand flippantly, “Relax.. I’m just fucking with you, so what can I do you for?”

“I know you have Elena, and I want you to let her go.”

“And why would I do that?” He sneers.

You avert your eyes, shifting your weight between each foot hesitantly. “..because it's the right thing to do…”

Kai pauses before breaking into a brief yet boisterous fit of laughter, clutching his chest while your face burns in humiliation. He continues in a condescending tone, “God, you're cute, but if that’s really all you’ve got, let me give you some advice: go home before things get ugly.” He turns his back to you and starts walking away.

“If you let her go.. you can have me instead!” you blurt out.

Kai stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulder. The glint in his wicked eyes making you swallow the lump growing in your throat. “Let me get this straight, you want to trade places with Elena? But why? You don’t even like her that much… oh-ohhh i get it..” he scoffs.

“What?” you stare back in confusion.

“This is all one big ploy you came up with to get my attention. You really can’t get me out of your system, can you? Not that I blame you..” He’s far too cocky for his own good but your bewildered expression isn’t doing you any favors.

Heat rises to your face as you ignore his comments, “the magic you siphoned will only last so long before you need to replenish and I offer myself as a renewable source.”

He let out a sigh, tapping his chin as if he were really mulling this idea over when in reality, he already made up his mind. In fact, the moment he sensed your presence, he had not intentions of letting you go.

“Deal.”

Kai drags you to the cafeteria where you find Elena. Her eyes light up when she sees you, arms tied behind her back with tightly wound vervain ropes.

You watch him, praying he’ll keep up his end of the bargain. He lifts his hand and utters a short spell until the ropes withered away. “You’re free to go. Little Bennett just bailed you out.”

Elena’s speechless, staring between the two of you while all you could offer was a smile that you hope comes off as more reassuring than apologetic. She knew Bonnie would absolutely freak if she left her little sister with the murderous sociopath, but before she can open her mouth to argue, Kai grows impatient and chants the motus incantation while swinging his arm back. Elena’s body is propelled out the doors, leaving the two of you. alone.

He rubs his palms as he returns to you. “There. a deal’s a deal.”

You peer up at him through thick eyelashes, just waiting, unsure what for. Typically when he looked down at you like this, your next move would be to sink to your knees and it seemed that old habits die hard as you struggle to resist the wayward urge.

He raises an eyebrow with a smirk, “aren’t you at least gonna try to run?”

You lift your chin with a defiant air. “I'm not scared of you.”

Kai reaches out and snatches your forearm, siphoning your magic so fast that it burns up through your skin, the pain makes you cry out. You wrench yourself free as he lets go, sending you stumbling slightly before you regain yourself and dart out the room.

Kai calmly begins his pursuit. “Things just got a lot more interesting.”

The classrooms go by in a blur, you're hoping Elena was long gone by this point as you aren’t sure if running away breaks the guidelines of your deal, though you wouldn’t put anything past Kai. Your heart steadies once you dip into the library, hoping to hide within the maze of book shelves. When you hear his low footsteps approaching, your stomach drops. His lackadaisical humming fills the space. This is a game to him. Your breathing slows as you silently plan your next move.

“They always try to hide…” he tsks. “C’mon dollface, I know you're in here…” he taunts. You watch his shadow move closer and slide out from behind the shelf, making a beeline for the fire extinguisher you noticed on the far wall.

Before you make it halfway across the aisle, screens of fire emerging on either side of your body intersect, making you reel back before the scorching flame. You're trapped.

“Okay, enough running. I'm bored now.”

You panic as he blocks the only path out of the circle with his body.

“I just want you to stop hurting my friends and Jo and the twins-“

His hand flies out and closes around your windpipe, trapping your words in your throat and all you can do is claw helplessly at his forearm.

“I’m sorry but you know my family’s a soft spot for me. Perhaps we should talk about us instead.. or better yet, not talk at all..”

Your body goes taut when you feel his hand snake up your thigh, fingers stopping to toy with the waistband of your panties, reveling in how he silently riles you up by snapping it against your skin.

You meet his dark cerulean eyes as he slackens his hold on your neck, allowing you to finally suck in a full breath as he tilts your head back and drags his thumb across your lower lip, he’s so close you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting across your face but you're still too stubborn to give in to the desire to taste him.

“That’s not why I came,” you rasp out, looking away.

You whimper when he closes his palm over your sex. “Sometimes plans change. frankly, I can think of a way better use of your time than trying to appeal to my humanity ‘cause listen baby, it’s never gonna’ happen.”

You don’t even notice the fire go out around you while your body still burns under his touch. He slots your panties aside and strokes your bare slit up to your bud, it’s pulsing and touch-starved. his mouth captures yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue invading every area of your mouth as your arousal pools in his hand.

“I thought you were gonna’ make this difficult for me,” he husks, making you pout, shake your head, wanting to push him away just so he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of making you cum but he plays your body expertly, melting your resolve until you’re sent into a full blown relapse of need. You abandon your pride and pull him closer, carding your fingers through his dark locks.

His feral touch consumes you, the outline of his cock brushes your inner thigh with every impatient rut of his hips. You let out a whine of surprise when he lifts you and pins you back into the nearest shelf. He flips up your skirt and makes quick work of his belt while dropping your panties around your ankles.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips while dragging you down into each thrust, your pussy gushing obscenely while you weep softly into the crook of his neck. Even with your ample arousal, the sting of his intrusion takes a moment to give way to that familiar pressure that makes heat pool in your abdomen as your pussy hungrily swallows each thrust.

The feeling intoxicates you like an electrifying high that was all consuming, overriding any sense of self-preservation. “I love you,” you let slip in a small breathy voice.

He stiffens but doesn’t dare stop. “Shut up,” he grunts while driving his cock so hard the shelf rattles. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

You let out a choked sob, tears spilling down as you anchor yourself to him.

“Shh.. don’t cry.. Look, I’ve been really generous. I didn’t have to let Elena go. I could’ve fucked you right in front of her, let her go back and tell everyone what a slut I made of you.”

He aims deliberately at your g-spot, watching your face for every reaction as he edges you closer to your release.

“Cum on my cock, baby… that’s it.. atta’ girl,” he coaxes you gently, cooing in your ear. You ignite, scratching down his biceps as you let go, tremoring from the inside out in sharp waves until he slows and finally let’s you come down.

Shame instantly fills your veins, becoming deeply aware of your sticky thighs and mascara stained cheeks. But he isn’t finished. He grabs your leg and hikes your knee up to your chest before angling his hips and burying himself deep.

“Fucking hell, Kai! Ah- It’s too much…” you bite out as your puffy overstimulated walls clench down.

He reaches up to choke you, laughs and mocks your pathetic whimpers. “Isn’t this what you wanted, baby... my undivided attention? N-no? You little liar…”

His pelvic bone stims your swollen clit and that’s enough to send you into another spiral. His forehead pressed to yours as he moans softly and grows sloppy. Your pulsing cunt causes him to twitch inside you with a groan, his cum spilling into you before giving a few light thrusts and pulling out. You feel his spend dribble down your inner thighs, falling in droplets to the carpet.

He kneels down and pulls your panties up over your hips, ruining the garment.

“I sshould go home,” you say when you finally catch your breath.

You wait, but he doesn’t move to let you go. Then his mouth forms a domineering smile that shows each of his sharp teeth.

“No chance dollface. We had a deal.”

Part 2

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[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Marvel

how to return home by JBS_Forever

Flash Thompson is a good person, but not a great one, so when Peter Parker accidentally gets drunk at his house party, all he can do is say, “Shit.”

Or: the one where Flash is just trying to be a decent person and get a drunk Peter home. Peter, on the other hand, has different plans.

scandal of the century by joshriku

The headline reads:

STEAMY SEX TAPE BETWEEN MAGNETO AND PROFESSOR X LEAKED!

“All right,” Charles says. “I wouldn’t call it steamy, you know, that’s an exaggeration.”

“That is seriously not the point, Professor,” Jean answers.

(A sex tape is leaked. PR crisis ensues).

DC

two vigilantes carry a cake across gotham by JBS_Forever

Jason's had a nagging suspicion that Bruce keeps stalker-esque levels of tabs on all the places he’s lived, so when Tim Drake shows up at his apartment door, it takes only a half second for Jason to level his gun directly at Tim's stupid face and to say, bored, “Give me one reason not to shoot you.”

Honestly, he knew Bruce had a problem, but sending a bat to his doorstep? This is just ridiculous.

Or: in a scheming attempt to make them bond, Bruce forces Jason and Tim on what should be a simple quest: retrieve Alfred’s birthday cake from across town and make it back before the party.

But this is Gotham. And nothing is ever simple in Gotham.

racing on the thunder by merils

Fortunately or unfortunately, Clark Kent is kind of used to getting phone calls about his too-curious-for-her-own-good wife being held hostage somewhere. Superman usually handles it.

Conner Kent gets a phone call meant for Clark Kent, who is Superman, who is currently in space. Uh.... Have no fear, Superboy is here!

What could possibly go wrong?

Original Works

Halfway Home for Wayward Mages by hoebiwan

Part 24 of mage in a wolf pack (This whole series kills me)

He wouldn’t mind it if Lada collared him, if Khalida or Dimitri collared him, because none of them have forced him to hurt anyone, whether human or wolf. They mostly just want him to—

Live, Jaime. Live.

In which the wolves rescue Jaime, but he doesn't realize he's free.

the sin eater by whitegeraniums (puertoricansuperman)

Part 25 of mage in a wolf pack

Lada, alpha of the Hearthstone wolf pack, finds herself in possession of a captured, broken werewolf hunter.

ATLA

Keeping Ones Head Down by ApoplecticAtPeace

Part 3 of May You be Noticed by The Fire Lord

Bao lost his ability to walk when he was 19. Despite the prejudice of many Fire Nation citizens, he got a job as an accountant in the Royal palace, in the Department of Education. After 11 years of working quietly, keeping his head down and allowing his work to be claimed by others, he expected nothing to change when Fire Lord Zuko took the throne. He didn't expect the entire department to be reformed under the new Minister Shu-Lin, and Bao's overlooked position with it.

Clone Wars

Something in the heart beat like a drum by CombatBootsandDreams

Most Jedi only have to take three formal sexual education classes. Obi-Wan, in all their blessed biology has to take five.

Or: Obi-Wan growing up in a galaxy where Stewjoni are Succubi. This changes very little--but it does make certain things a hell of lot more interesting.

A Stewjoni are succubus au that has way less to do with sex, & is more about logistics, medical problems, and cuddling. Featuring Qui-Gon being an excellent master, codywan, aromantic Quinlan Vos, Obi-Wan using he/they/she pronouns, and plenty of costume changes.

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training VIII (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

You stared at Peter with a slight frown, knees pulled to your chest with your hands clasped together against your skin. He was sound asleep, breathing deep and even while you were so far from slumber. You hadn’t slept good in weeks, not since that really bad nightmare that night, but it had nothing to do with the awful images that had plagued your mind that night…

…and everything to do with the kiss.

You stared at the dark-haired man, watching him sleep and fighting with yourself over feelings you didn’t quite understand. You hated Peter. You absolutely hated him, and why wouldn’t you? He was the sole reason you were even here, trapped and meant to live out this nightmare. He wanted you, and so he took you, and not once had he hinted at a smidgen of remorse for that.

In the same breath though, he was your only source of comfort, and shame tore through you at the memory of allowing him to kiss you. So focused on the foreign feel of his lips on yours, you’d forgotten all about your nightmare, trying to get him off and then…letting him. Again. And again. Peter had kept kissing you until your sobs had mellowed into something much quieter, until your harsh breathing became light.

You hadn’t even remembered turning your head into him until you woke up the next morning with your face in the crook of his neck.

It wasn’t something you wanted to repeat, and you had jumped, hurrying to get started on breakfast no matter how early it was.

How funny it was to be complimented by Steve on your initiative when the whole ordeal had been driven by your fear of Peter and what had happened. You hadn’t wanted to see the man, let alone be near him, and so you’d thrown yourself into successfully cooking the few meals you’d mastered in your time here. If Peter noticed your sudden reservations around him, he didn’t voice it.

You avoided his eyes at dinner, and you kept your back to him when you slept. You woke up before him and made to leave him alone, and you at the very least feigned sleep whenever he joined you in bed. There were many nights like tonight where you struggled to sleep and settled for staring into space or watching Peter instead.

Absentmindedly, you reached up to touch your lips, tears kissing your eyes as you did.

Jane had told you that Peter was one of the good ones, and that he’d be good to you…but he wasn’t a good guy. If he was, he wouldn’t even be participating in any of this, or at the least…he’d feel some kind of guilt. He’d try to help you escape, maybe turn everyone here over to some good police. Peter wouldn’t be doing any of this if he was good…

Before you realized what you were doing, the sound of the slap echoed in the room.

You hit Peter again and again, the other man long awake by now, but you couldn’t stop. He was up and facing you and fighting to grab your hands, but you weren’t really hitting him with any rhyme or reason. Your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t see from crying so hard, but that didn’t stop you from hitting him.

“Y/N, stop-!”

“You’re not good,” you sobbed, pushing at him as he tried to restrain you. “I’m here because of you. They’re dead because of you.”

One harsh slap had Peter’s head whipping to the side, and you crawled back away from him. You kicked at his hands as he grasped at your legs. Your foot met his cheek, and you turned on your stomach. You could hear Peter calling your name, but you mistook the concern in his voice for anger, paying no mind to your haste to get off the bed until you were falling off.

The sound of your face connecting with the corner of the nightstand was loud, and you sharply inhaled when you hit the floor. You could hear Peter swearing, and you tasted blood when you licked your lips. You were crying for a whole other reason, now, your hands pressed to your face as you laid on the floor. Even from behind your lids, you knew the room was now flooded in light, and you flinched when you felt Peter’s hand on your shoulder.

“Let me see… Y/N, let me see,” his voice lowered, tone more serious than you’d ever heard him.

He pulled your hands away, and you heard him sharply inhale. Your face felt so warm, and when you peeled your eyes open, Peter was helping you sit up.

“You’re okay,” he breathed. “Come on.”

Your legs shook as he helped you stand, and he forced you to lean against him. The anger that you’d felt moments ago had dissipated into embarrassment. You couldn’t stop crying no matter how much you tried, and when you made it to the bathroom, Peter forced you to sit on the toilet. You could hear him wetting a rag in the sink, and you winced, hissing when the wet cloth met your skin.

Peter sighed.

He didn’t say anything for a while as you cried, just cleaning your face and occasionally running his gaze over it. You couldn’t tell how mad he was, if he was mad, at all, and your lips trembled as you thought about what Steve would do in his shoes. You shuddered at the thought, and again, you found yourself thinking about Jane’s words as she compared Peter to the other husbands.

As if he read your mind, Peter spoke.

“You know I should punish you for that…”

Your head started to fall, but Peter prevented it from doing so. You blinked at the redness on his face.

“…but I think this was punishment enough…don’t you…?”

You sniffed, studying the tiles of the floor.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

You felt crazy for apologizing to him of all people.

Peter didn’t respond, opting instead to stand and wet a new cloth. You could hear him wringing it out, and when he grabbed your arm, you let him pull you to your feet. You stumbled with him, tears spilling over again, and Peter kept his arm around you as he climbed onto the bed. You were crying again, the saltiness of the tears making your wound sting a little, and Peter pulled you against him as he leaned against the headboard.

Peter wasn’t a good guy, and you wanted him to stop acting like one. You wanted him to be mean, to yell at you and punish you. You wanted him to be like Steve, strict and hateful and violent. If Peter was like Steve, this would all be so much easier. If Peter were like Steve, you wouldn’t feel confused about the man who’d kidnapped you. You would hate him and fear him, and there wouldn’t be anything confusing about it.

…but Peter wasn’t like Steve.

Peter held you when you cried, and he kissed you to make you feel better, and he let you talk about things you weren’t supposed to. He’d let you see how your mom was doing, and he cleaned up after you when your body and your mind weren’t in sync. Peter held damp rags to your face even when the injury was your own doing…

…and he kissed it better.

“Once you make it a few times, you’ll barely even have to think about it,” Natasha said, taking the dish out of the oven.

Jane was supposed to help with dinner, but you’d come to find out that morning sickness wasn’t exclusive to just the mornings. The redhead had assured you that the two of you would be just fine, and you’d sworn there’d been a hint of a smile on her face. It wasn’t that Natasha disliked you. At least…you didn’t think so, but part of you felt like she was just as unsure of you as you were of her, and so the sight had given you pause…until you were reminded of the pain in your face.

You gently touched your cheekbone as you looked over the salmon wellington.

“Buck really likes it. He says it’s his favorite thing that I cook, and I guess I was feeling nice today,” she lightly chuckled.

You cracked a smile at that, noting how good it smelled and thinking that you probably couldn’t blame him. The thought of the brunette had it falling some, and you found it hard to reconcile Natasha’s husband with the same man who killed your best friend.

“I don’t know what Peter likes… I’m still just getting the hang of not burning things, so maybe he’ll never tell me.”

Your tone was light, but your frown deepened. There was something in you that wanted Peter to tell you, that wanted to see him smile with surprise as you cooked his favorite meal, and you grimaced. When you glanced up, you could see the other woman briefly looking at your face before looking away, a slight frown of her own on her features.

“Peter didn’t do this,” you suddenly said, feeling the need to defend him.

Peter, like all of the men here, was a lot of things, but he wasn’t that, and you didn’t want her thinking he was.

“You keep looking at it, and I know what you must think…”

She didn’t respond, focusing her attention on the side dish.

“…but I did it. I fell off the bed. I…I’m having a really hard time, and I didn’t want to be around him.”

You weren’t supposed to say that, and you were relieved that Steve wasn’t home yet. You didn’t want to think about being on the other end of his ire if he heard you saying anything less than stellar about your time here and your relationship with Peter. Your gaze found the counter.

“He’s been really…patient with me,” you whispered. “More than anyone else would be.”

Natasha eventually nodded.

“Bucky warned me that it might take a long time for you to adjust. They warned all of us to be understanding with you.”

You didn’t know that, and you blinked.

“It is hard,” she finally said, and you looked at her. “It’s very hard to think about how your friends and your family have to go on without you. To think about what conclusions they’ve been forced to accept about what happened to you.”

Your frown deepened, and as Natasha stared at the mashed potatoes, your mind whirled.

“I can’t say for sure that you’ll ever fully accept it. Some of us have, and some of us haven’t…” it was clear which category she put herself in. “…but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to think that they’ve found some kind of peace with whatever they think happened.”

Her green gaze met yours.

“I tell myself that it’s better they think I’m dead than know the truth.”

You blinked at her, and for some reason, you thought that she knew. You thought they all knew about the details surrounding how you’d gotten here, but Natasha’s mention of ‘friends’ made you think that maybe she didn’t. After all, if she knew that your friends had been brutally murdered in the efforts to take you, that would make her wildly insensitive…and she’d never struck you as the type.

“Did…?”

You paused, opening and closing your mouth.

“Bucky…didn’t tell you…?” you quietly wondered.

You could see the slight confusion on her beautiful face, and now you wished you hadn’t said anything. Before she could respond, you quickly shook your head, turning away.

“Never mind. I… Forget I said anything.”

You were quick to throw yourself into finishing dinner, and you could feel her eyes on you here and there.

Truthfully, you didn’t know why you just assumed that Natasha knew that. After all, that would make the man she laid down next to every night a murderer, and while you’d just assumed that wasn’t his first time, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed that she knew. It was possible Natasha thought that was one line her husband hadn’t crossed, and you didn’t think it was your place to tell her that he’d shot someone down in cold blood.

You didn’t think it was your place to tell her that the man who hugged and kissed her and who she was making dinner for was a killer.

At dinner, you found yourself eyeing Margaret here and there, concluding that if Natasha didn’t know about Bucky, then she didn’t know about Steve. It wasn’t a stretch to think that Sharon didn’t know about Sam either, and in all that, it really just hit you that the other wives probably thought you were just crazy.

As you felt Peter’s fingers graze your hand in your lap, you found yourself thinking that maybe you were.

When you looked at him, you felt your heart clench at the way his eyes dimmed with one look at your face. It wasn’t the worst bruise in the world, but the corner of the nightstand had cut you deeper than either of you thought, and it was more than noticeable. Peter leaned in, and your lashes fluttered when his lips brushed over the bruise. They lingered for a bit, and when he pulled away, he reached up to gently touch it.

You noticed that Peter’s own cheek was still a little red, and when you glanced over, eyes catching familiar blue ones, you wondered if he’d mentioned what happened to Steve. The blonde’s expression was unreadable, but he didn’t look the happiest. However, Steve rarely looked happy, really only when Margaret was smiling at him or when he was with his daughter.

You hurriedly looked away, your gaze resting on your plate, shoulders only relaxing when Peter’s hand met your back.

You shook your head at Peter’s words, fighting back tears.

“We knew this was temporary…”

Your lips trembled, and you looked towards the window, feeling like your stomach had dropped to the floor.

“I only did this to help you adjust better, to get into the swing of things-.”

“I don’t like being here when you’re not,” you tearfully interrupted, struggling to swallow.

“Y/N-.”

“I’ll be alone,” you choked out, and you didn’t look at Peter when he reached for you.

One of his hands was on your arm, the other reaching for your face.

“Hey…look at me,” he softly commanded, and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. “You won’t be alone. The other-.”

“They can’t talk to Steve like you do…”

You were trying to keep it together, realizing how ridiculous you were acting, but was it crazy to say that had you realized your good behavior would make Peter’s hiatus from work shorter, you would’ve acted differently? You’d grown used to Peter being just around the corner, and the thought of going back to entire hours without him was making your chest hurt.

It was getting hard to breathe.

You could hear him calling your name as you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your hand to your chest, but it did nothing. What about the nights where he’d have to stay late, and you would be forced to try and go to sleep without him there? You would be lying if you said that knowing he was just a room or two away didn’t make you feel more relaxed, allowing you to feel more comfortable in the kitchen or cleaning and therefore less likely to make mistakes like you had before.

The threat of Steve just around every corner made your stomach churn. Even if Steve wasn’t here, the other husbands weren’t yours. You didn’t belong to them like you did Peter. They wouldn’t treat you like Peter treated you, and most of all, unlike Peter, they wouldn’t plead your case to Steve should you screw up again. Hell, they might even punish you themselves, and you turned away from Peter.

“Y/N…”

“You c-can’t,” you gasped, struggling to breathe. “I’m going to break something else-.”

“You won’t.”

“…or burn the food again or screw up something like I always do and…”

You were shaking, and you reached up, twisting your fingers into your hair while Peter tried to calm you down. Your head felt too light, and the room wasn’t as clear as it normally was. You thought about the sting of the wood on your palms and the darkness of the basement. You hadn’t forgotten that Steve wanted to put you down there after your outburst that day. It was something you never forgot.

How easily and quickly Steve would’ve forced you back down there if it hadn’t been for Peter.

Peter was right. You had known this was temporary, but you hadn’t allowed your mind to linger on it. You hadn’t wanted to think about the day Peter would decide you were in a better place and he wouldn’t have to be here as much. You hadn’t considered having to function without him.

You were crying, now, and you hated it.

You hated Peter for putting you in this situation. You hated him for deciding you were who he wanted and ruining your life. Peter wasn’t the good guy, he was so far from a good guy, but he was the hand you’d been delt, and you knew that it could be so much worse. You’d seen the so much worse, experienced it, and as much as you hated Peter for who he was, you appreciated him for who he wasn’t. Peter terrified you and confused you, and you grappled with his role in all this…

…but you needed him.

“You can’t leave,” you sobbed, voice unsteady.

“I’m not leaving,” Peter whispered, taking your face into his hands.

“Is this about the other night? I’m sorry,” you hurried to say. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t-.”

“This isn’t about the other night,” Peter softly told you. “I told you I wasn’t mad about that-.”

“Then why? Why?”

You could hear your voice getting higher, but you couldn’t stop it. The thought of being in this house without Peter was pushing you over an edge you didn’t know existed, and you were positive you were going to be sick.

“I have to-.”

“Did Steve tell you you have to? Did you tell him what I did?”

Peter assured you he didn’t, but you didn’t believe him, frantically shaking your head.

“I shouldn’t have hit you,” you cried, pulling at your hair. “I was angry about the kiss, and I was confused and scared…”

The next time Peter said your name, it was stern, his voice hard, and it just made you cry harder.

“This was temporary. You knew that. You know that I have a job just like Steve and the others, and you’re meant to be here at home…”

You fought to get out of his hold, turning away and trying to stumble off of the bed, but Peter wouldn’t let you. His fingers dug into your arms, and he shook you.

“Do you understand?”

Tears spilled from your eyes as Peter held your gaze. The only sound in your ears was that of your own harsh breathing and the occasional sob. You snatched yourself out of Peter’s hold, stumbling to your feet.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” you cried. “After everything you’ve done to me…you can’t stay a little longer?”

You watched Peter sigh, and you knew he was gearing up to refuse you again. In a matter of seconds, you swiped the lamp off of the nightstand, the sound of breaking glass reaching your ears. The dark-haired man froze, his face falling just a tad, and you backed up when he stood.

He called your name when you ran around the bed, close on your heels as you grabbed the other lamp. He was calling your name, a warning in his tone as you broke the other. You could feel his hand on your arm, but that didn’t stop you from ripping the covers off of the bed, flinging them around the room in a rage.

You were heading for the bathroom when he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You hadn’t realized you were screaming until his hand covered your mouth, the room suddenly a lot quieter, and you couldn’t stop yourself from breaking down in his arms. You were a sobbing mess, and you curled in on yourself as best as you could.

Your wails made it past his hand, and Peter shushed you, but you couldn’t stop. You could only think about hours alone with your thoughts, hours without Peter, hours of having to navigate the ticking time bomb that was Steve. You couldn’t do it, not yet, and your head fell as you cried.

When Peter took his hand off of your mouth, his voice was in your ear, softly shushing you. You clung to the arm around you, struggling to breathe, and Peter rocked you with his lips at your ear.

“Y/N…”

“Please, don’t go,” you cried. “Please…”

Your nails pressed into his skin, and you were sure you were drawing blood.

“Please,” you begged him.

You could feel him sigh, and he didn’t say anything for what felt like a long time. Peter shifted so that he was leaning against the bed, and you were in his arms, your head leaning back against his shoulder, his jawline in your vision. He was still rocking you, his free hand smoothing itself over your head. Tears stained your cheeks, and Peter leaned down, pressing his lips into your hair.

“Alright…”

You tilted your head back, staring at him.

“I’ll stay a little longer. I’ll talk to Steve…”

You tightened your hold on his arm, holding him closer.

“You promise?” you forced out, voiced breaking.

Peter looked down at you, his fingers grazing your forehead.

“I promise,” he assured you, kissing your forehead. “Anything for you, pretty girl.”

[webslingingslasher]

would make peter go camping with me because he’s head over heels in love and also he’s strong (spider man duh) and then i’d just be like :) the whole time (i’d totally ask him to pick up heavy logs and stuff just because)

everytime i go camping i wish i had a peter parker

“Don’t forget that log, looks like a good one!” 

Peter looks up at his girlfriend sitting in her green rocking camping chair, a cold can of alcohol in her hand, he can’t decipher if it’s a white claw or miller light based on the distance. The other points to his left, the setting sun hits the crown of her head and dances over her features, for a moment he forgets how to breathe and takes a lopsided inhale. 

It was your idea to take him camping, you were the master. You grew up doing it and always talked about it, always swore you’d take Peter and give him the glamping experience. You set up the trip as an anniversary gift, and Peter doesn’t think he’ll enjoy it half as much as you but seeing you so happy makes him match it. 

Peter’s hand cups over his forehead to look at you in the sun, “awfully demanding today, aren’t we?” 

He’s not wrong, you have been bossing him around the whole time. But, it’s your favorite activity and he was doing it, and you’ve been together long enough that he’s not doing it because camping will be his new hobby, but because you love it and it makes you happy. 

And his red flannel looked awfully lumberjack like on him, his biceps straining the fabric when he moved totes from your car full of heavy accessories. It got even better when you made him help you set up the tent, you gave light instructions and worked on your side but got distracted when your boyfriend crouched on one knee and had his tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he focused on connecting the poles. 

You were left scrambling when his eyes shot to yours waiting for you to finish your half, he didn’t catch onto your greed. “I thought you’ve done this before, slow poke.” 

Struggling, his side full of tension, “I didn’t know it was a race.” 

It got worse when Peter noticed your struggle and came to pull your side taut, his back flexing under his down vest.

You nearly slingshotted the tent into the woods. 

“Here, baby. I got it.” Peter placed the rest of the poles and you were able to catch your breath in time to hammer the stakes in. You rest your fists on your hips as you look up at the sky, due to flooding in the main roads it had taken a bit longer than you expected, night was approaching. 

“We don’t have a lot of daylight left, you wanna grab some firewood and I’ll finish setting up camp?” 

Did you give him the man's job? Yes. 

Logs were heavy, plus bugs crawled all over them and not to mention the splinters. 

You had the camp ready in ten minutes, leading you to relax in your camping chair watching your ripped boyfriend trot back and forth from the campsite with handfuls of stems and logs. At first the tugged a fallen tree over to you which sent you running towards him pushing at his chest to throw him back in the woods whisper shouting.

“That’s not even remotely funny, Peter! Do you know what will happen if a park ranger catches you? They have eyes everywhere.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, “I dragged it like, ten steps.” 

You shoo him, “back it up ten, and get real campfire wood. I’ll get some fire starter.” 

Thus led you to watching with a careful eye and directing him, you’ve done this a million times and now you have someone else to do it, who also happens to be your super hot, loving boyfriend. 

“Love you, honey!” You called out the praise, hoping it would erase your demands from his mind. It works, he blows you a kiss and picks up the wood you called out for. He’s gotten more than enough for the night, and you stand before gesturing to your seat. 

“Take her for a ride, mama’s gonna make you a fire.” 

Careful eyes watched you, you could sense that Peter was ready to jump up and save you from a swallowing fire at any second. You talked through the process and into the night, where you then had Peter make you every s’more you wanted. 

Peter likes being out of the city and loves being around you with no distractions. 

He doesn’t think he minds camping half as much as he thought he would. 

Until you wake him up at three in the morning and ask, no, force him to get out of bed to walk into the woods with you so you could pee. You squatted behind a tree and had your arm wrapped around to the other side where it intertwined with your boyfriends. 

“Okay, turn around.” 

Too scary. 

“Wait, let me hold your hand.” 

Too quiet.

“Can you hum or something?” 

It is currently three in the morning and Peter is in the middle of the woods, back to a tree with his arm twisted wonky to hold hers, and he’s humming the star wars intro but can still hear you stream clearly and won’t tell you.

“Okay, done.” 

Your boyfriend fumbled with his waistline, his hand pulling it down swiftly. You get a peek of his lower half and squeeze your eyes shut, your hands cover them on instinct. “Yuck!” 

Peter has no regard, proudly pissing inches from you. 

“What, I have to hold your hand and sing and you can’t stand here?” 

“I’m in the splash zone!” 

“Oi! I’m aiming away, I’m not a mongrel.” 

A snap of a branch, rustling of bushes sent the hair on your neck straight up. Normally you’d think it was a squirrel, it’s almost always a squirrel. But this sounded big, in an instant you jumped on Peter’s back, giving him no time to prepare and he was sent slightly stumbling while trying to tie his pajama pants back up. 

“It’s a fucking bear, is it a bear, can you smell if it’s a bear?” 

Peter hiked you further up his back and walked back towards your site, “it’s not a bear.” 

Your arms lock around his neck so tightly he has to tug at arm so you could loosen your hold, “it could be a bear and you’re trotting slowly.” 

“Baby, if a bear comes up and starts a fight, help the bear.” 

“‘Cause that bitch gon need it,” you grunt in his ear. He tapped your leg in appreciation to the reference. 

You yawned when you laid back down in the tent, shuffling a little closer to Peter than the first time. He can say what he wants, but you’re the woodsy person and you’d give your right arm on a bet that was a bear. 

Loud ruffling near your tent sends you clinging to your boyfriend. 

“It’s the bear.” Your words are almost mute with how quiet and slow you were speaking. 

Peter doesn’t even open his eyes, his arm opens and tugs you into him. “It’s not a bear.” 

Another branch snaps, you’re nearly on top of him, he grunts with the new weight on him. He doesn’t even need to see to know what you’re about to say. 

“It’s not a bear.” 

A lazy grin forms when he feels puffy air on his neck as you grumble, “it’s totally a bear.” 

[rinaforpages]

how (not) to survive academic invalidation

park gunwook x reader

hahahha...

using the american hs system bcs wow! im american... (i half wrote this at the end of last school yr so)

warnings: swearing, self-deprecation (obv), yn hits themself, angst with a bit of fluff at the end, reader is actually smart but surrounds themself with geniuses.

2.6k words

________________________________

# 1 dont compare yourself

"junior year kicks everyones ass." you wanted to kick whoever said that ass. not only was the school work kicking your ass, your friends and classmates seemed to be doing just fine.

they were working on ap chemistry minus laura and gunwook who were working on ap environmental science, and you, who took neither of those classes, felt extremely out of place, doing your ap us history homework.

"whats species richness again?" laura asked gunwook, who quickly answered her question. you looked up, planning to ask the soon-to-be early graduate a question, only to see him helping sarah with a chemistry problem.

you weren't like them and you despised that. your friends were top of the class, an average of a 4.4 gpa, an early graduate (and first in the 2024 class overall) and there you sat with your measly 3.75. they were in 3-4 ap classes, and you sat there, struggling through your 2. (in your defense, ap lang and apush are the two hardest aps juniors could take).

you didnt excel in any way shape or form. they had just about an a in every class (minus ryan in french, who had a b), and a b was your most common grade.

a good 10 minutes later you had finished struggling through apush, you moved on to mandarin. you were the only one who took mandarin, everyone else opting for french. the characters jumbled your brain as your friends spoke in french, seemingly coming easy to them.

you heard footsteps walk by, and ricky laid a hand on your shoulder, looking over. "thats wrong." he said simply. the french kids careened their necks to look at you. he grabbed your pencil and wrote the right character, then walked away. you hummed as you circled the characters you didnt know, opting to ask zhang hao over bothering ricky again.

"you ok over there?" gunwook asked. you scowled.

"i dont understand why there are so many idioms! im losing my goddamn mind." parker laughed, mumbling that you chose the language. you couldnt (or didnt want to) voice your doubts as you thought you could.

as they focused their attention on their homework again, you waved over zhang hao, who hanbin had asked to help cut fruits for you and your friends. he set down a plate in front of you, then sat down.

"what does 开夜车 mean zhang hao please im gonna kill myself." he laughed as hanbin looked up, extremely concerned.

"you know 熬夜, right?" you nodded "so its kind of like that but youre doing work. it literally means burn the midnight oil" you thanked him as he patted your head, pulling the plate of fruit away from your friends and toward you, gunwook making a sound of discontent.

you sighed, packing up your bag at a text from your oldest brother. he was home from his masters program in germany, apparently, and was now waiting outside the dorm. you loved your older brothers, you really did, but they were so much smarter than you ever will be. the oldest graduated magna cum laude from mit, now achieving an accelerated masters for mechanical engineering, and the younger was attending harvard for premed, both completely full ride.

your friends, finally re-noticing you, looked up. "where are you going?" gunwook asked, shushing yujin.

"brothers here," you mumbled, not wanting to wreck your self-esteem any more than you had. sarah pouted, but nodded, whipping out her phone. gunwook opened his mouth, but then quickly closed it. "bye hao, thanks for the help. bye, hanbin and jiwoong!" the three oldest members waved back, hanbin hugging you as you walked by. when you got in your fathers' car that your brother was driving, you spilled your guts.

# 2 dont fall behind

at some point, your motivation fell through. all you wanted to do was lie down and stare at the ceiling all day. sadly though, education laws (and school rules) prevailed.

as you trudged up the stairs from last lunch to pre-calculus, you cursed the architects of the three-floor building and whoever required you to go to school.

two of your friends—laura and ryan—had junior priv, which meant they left early. sarah and coral (who had missed the study session) were in ap chem, and gunwook left for a shoot. without your friends to motivate you to work harder, you felt there was nothing left for you to do.

you had fallen asleep in mandarin earlier that day, so why were you still exhausted?

quick answer: you had stayed up late finishing your apush bonus points.

actual answer: you had no motivation to do anything.

you were falling behind on homework: what used to be doing homework as soon as you got home turned into doing it right before class. a teacher had approached your freshman-year english teacher about it, the one teacher who you could talk easily to. yujin was standing right there; they mustve not have realized you two knew each other.

ricky and zhang hao had invited you over for a cdrama binge session. (ricky said "itll help you" in his texts.) but yujin quickly pulled you aside.

"youre falling behind?" he asked, pointedly. you sighed, nodded, opening your mouth to reply as gunwook walked by, asking what you were doing.

"nothin! ricky and hao invited me over." the words rushed out, and they were so not convincing, but gunwook shrugged and moved to sit down beside ricky and gyuvin. you hushed yujin and walked over and sat down beside hao. gunwook stared at you.

"come here." he motioned, shoving ricky off the couch. you hesitated as you made eye contact ricky, but eventually, there were only so many thumps against the couch you could take. "see? more comfortable over here" you hit him, and he let out a yelp.

"do you have much homework, yn?" taerae asked, setting down a bowl of popcorn.

"only a couple of classes," you replied, shoving a kernel in your mouth.

matthew laughed, "the usual suspects, im guessing?" you nodded. gunwook threw a (toned) arm around you as the two chinese members debated the drama.

"how much have you done? its sunday." gunwook asked, lightly, rubbing circles on your arm with his thumb.

"i can do it all tonight and tomorrow." you sighed, the sentence reminding you of where you are in school. gunwook hummed.

"make sure you get sleep, though. you need sleep, its not healthy if you dont." fuck. you were in deep shit in two ways. you were falling deeper into your rut, and you were falling deeper in love with your childhood best friend.

# 3 dont be too hard on yourself

...was easier said than done. your mind cursed you every time you got a bad grade. you wondered what was the point: you werent good enough to get into the likes of yale, or any of your colleges for that matter.

you had long since fallen off the ladder. it had injured you your 8th-grade year, and every attempt to climb back to where you were or any pushing from a 3rd party proved futile, as you only slipped and fell back down again.

the sat was fast approaching, and every practice test you did was never where you wanted them to be. every stupid math problem you got wrong brought a punch to your head. you had called gunwook, only realizing when he didnt pick up that he was in a shoot. panicked, you hung up before the voicemail. when he called you back (10 times with his members also calling you), you opted to ignore it. it was getting late, anyhow, and you had to go in early for apush in the morning.

apush lab made you want to kill yourself. sarah sat next to you, but everything always seemed to favor her. the quizzes, the teacher. it was unfair, really. american history was supposed to be your thing. so why were you struggling? after lab, sarah asked you what was wrong. "gunwook had called us in a panic because you didn't pick up." you shook your head, lying through your teeth.

"i had a question, but then passed the fuck out like 5 minutes later." sarah laughed and nodded, saying she was glad you got proper sleep, mumbling something about the aforementioned friend. when you asked, she waved you off, the man himself standing outside your classroom. he swung an arm around you as sarah walked in the opposite direction to her next class. he asked you the same thing. you lied to him too, but he looked less convinced. he didnt press you further, though, as you two began to walk down the stairs to your creative writing workshop—a senior elective you had begged your guidance counselor to take. gunwook took it to fill spots in his schedule.

the teacher loved him. as did everyone. you wondered if you could ever experience that. your oldest friend was everything you weren't and it was a point of contention inside your mind. you cursed yourself that you were nothing like him. gunwook nudged you in the middle of class when you were given an opportunity to work, asking what was wrong.

"i know thats not why you called me and then didn't pick up. you're also in your head right now." he pointed out, softly. you hummed, scribbling down something in your notebook.

"i just... i had a question but it was stupid. i figured it out." he looked at you pointedly, a look that told you to tell him the truth. "seriously! im ok!" he nodded, grabbing your hand for a squeeze.

# 4 do your best

you were nervous. ok nervous was an understatement. you rocked from heel to toe as you awaited the announcement that the doors were open. your friends chattered nervously around you. for them, this was the first time they were taking the sat. this was your second. you had gotten a 1340 on your first try—nowhere near where you wanted it to be. your brothers had gotten 1600 and 1590, respectively.

you were on call with all your friends the night before, gunwook coaching you guys through certain questions. he had texted you, (only you, but you didnt know that) wishing you luck. ricky and zhang hao had wished you luck as well.

everything seemed like bricks in your bag. it was only a couple of things—a computer, for the digital sat, a pencil, a calculator, a water bottle, and a banana. but it felt like you had hundreds of textbooks in your bag for no reason at all.

the doors swung open, and you rushed up to your assigned room. the setup was a blur, and the reading section seemed to be so too. during the break, your friends voiced similar opinions. then, during math, you began to struggle. somewhere along the way, though, gunwook popped into your head. you dont know if it was   because you wanted to make him proud, or you didnt want to disappoint your oldest friend and crush, but it worked. you powered through module 1 and 2, module 2 being the toughest one by far.

when the results came back two weeks later, you waited with baited breath as your friends skipped class with you to check all of your scores. gunwook held your hand as you refreshed the page.

"i dont want to look." you said, hiding your face in his chest.

"ill look for you." he mumbled into your hair, scrolling down. you felt him smile into the crown of your head, "i knew you could do it, sweetheart." you looked, and a big glaring 1590 stared back at you.

"wook!! holy shit a 1590!!" you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

# 5 talk about it

you sat with your friends and the members as you awaited gunwook's family's arrival. gunwook smiled from his seat on the gymnasium floor, holding up his phone. almost on instinct, you all checked your own.

wook🩵: this'll be you guys next year. ill be up there watching you all.

sarah burst in to tears. laura full on sobbed, and ryan and carols eyes were brimming with tears. as you read the text again and again, you got a separate text.

wook🩵: i'm proud of you y'know? i saw you struggling a bit at the end there but you made it through. i love you, yn. im glad to call you my friend.

i love you i love you i-

"hey yn sweetheart!" gunwooks mom sat next to you. his brother waved, and his father gave you a curt nod.

"hi. you guys must be excited." his mom laughed, nodding, then shoving your shoulder.

"im more excited about something else." you opened your mouth to ask her what, but the ceremony started

giving gunwook his graduation flowers made him blush. he shook his head. "do you not like them, wook? i thought theyre your favorites." he shook his head again, dropping the flowers into his mom's hands, grabbing your face.

"you are clueless, yknow that? i gave you so many hints. everyone knows." when you asked him what he meant, "yn, you didnt think id notice you putting yourself down? you know i cant fucking stand that. sorry mom. it kills me that the love if my life doesnt realize how fucking amazing they are, and it kills me that they dont realize that im in love with them." at this point, you dont know what you were doing. because gunwook was confessing to you that he both likes you and that he knows about your self-deprication. so now, surrounded by friends and seniors, gunwooks family and members, you kissed him.

it wasnt like anything you had imagined. your first kiss, you mean. peering seniors were waved off by shouts from matthew and gunwooks brother—both burly enough that even the biggest varsity football players would shrink away.

gunwook smiled on your lips as your friends cheered amongst themselves. you heard a loud "闭嘴!" from zhang hao to what you presume was ricky chatting with the senior mandarin class. when you broke off, gasping for air, gunwook tore off his graduation gown, pushing it onto his poor unsuspecting leader. he grabbed your arm, and the two of you sprinted as fast as you could.

out the gymnasium doors, out back by the cafeteria, through the back-woods path. he stopped when he was sure no one would follow him.

"so whats going on? with the whole." he gestured to your head. you knew what he meant, so you nodded. you told him everything, how you compared yourself to everyone, especially your friends and brothers, you were falling behind, your motivation was close to 0, and you never really believed that you could do it. he was quiet for a while. you knew he was trying to find the right words.

you wanted to cry, or throw up, probably both. it felt like the trees and the birds and your boyfriend? were judging you. but gunwook just apologized, for not noticing sooner, for not knowing how to help. you shook your head, tears threatening to fall, but he shook his too.

"no, no, im your best friend, yn, i need to be here for you. im serious, you have people to rely on, you dont have to shoulder this all by yourself." the tears threatening to fall were not a threat anymore, and the dam broke. gunwook grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a hug.

—

mandarin guide:

开夜车: kai ye che, lit. burn the midnight oil

熬夜: ao ye, stay up late

闭嘴: bi zui, shut up/close your mouth

[ofbluesandyellows]

Blueberry Wednesday - TASM! Peter Parker / Fem! Reader

Summary: Peter has a new noisy neighbor and he doesn't know how to deal with that -including bright plates and tasty food.

Word count: 2,086

a/n: Hiya! This is a new little thing that came to mind a few days ago, it's so nice to be back to share something with you. Hope you enjoy it let me know if you want to read more :)

Peter had been living in this new apartment for a few months now, the building was nicer than the last, the hot shower worked fine and the electricity didn’t have that buzzing sound that made his migraines unbearable. It was in an okay area and it was close to where he worked.

His life had been monotonous for the same amount of time too, maybe even longer, waking up, shower, coffee, work, lunch, patrol, kick some ass, fix his wounds —when needed—, sleep and back to square one. Peter didn’t feel the need of anything at the moment, Mary Jane had broken up with him for the second time, and even when he was heartbroken, and cried to sleep when he missed her, he was not pushing her to accept him back, he knew it was for the best. Pushing everyone away was the thing he was masterful at. 

But this banging and screeching coming from the floor on top of his was causing his body to flinch every time that mother fucker sound appeared. His jaw clenched, his fist tightened. Peter had given whomever this person was, about an hour to come to their senses but this was enough. He stood up from his bed, leaving his badly sewed spider-man fixed suit splattered on the bed. Heavy steps and the slam of his door didn’t give the owner of the apartment a clue of what was coming for them, so when he banged the door two times, he waited but nothing happened, instead a wave of noise came through of it, as if the air and life were doing it on purpose just to add more stress in him; music the loud kind, instruments clashing against one another as if they had no rhythm to go with.

He banged the door, this time with white knuckles and a fury bubbling in his stomach. Suddenly the music stopped and Peter inhaled, oh, he was so ready to give this person hell, he was even expecting a fight to go down. This didn’t have anything to do with MJ dating another person, of course not, this was about the noise, yeah, that was it.

The door swung open and Peter puffed his chest, but it deflated the second his eyes landed on your frame. 

“Hi!” You said chirpy and jolly, waving a hand. Your hair was messy as if a wind swirl had trapped you and now you had to deal with this new crazy hairdo and a sweaty forehead.

Peter tried, he really did but his eyes betrayed him and went up and down your body, pink shorts, with strawberries, that was something. Your shirt was spotty with breach, it was an Arctic Monkeys one, he liked them. You looked… not as annoying as he expected.

He gulped and inevitably sighed. “Um hello, listen, I came up here to make you stop with the noise but I was not expecting to find you here, so um, yeah sorry. Just would you keep it down?”

All the hot bubbly anger settled down, he was in no way going to fight a girl let alone an adorable looking one.

“Oh, I had no idea, sorry!” You smiled sheepishly. “I just moved in this morning and I was trying to move a few things around because they just left them all scattered and I kind of wanted to— anyway yeah I am so sorry about that.” 

Peter nodded, he caught the pink in your cheeks going brighter the more he stared at you.

“You’re fine, really, maybe I’m just being a little dramatic.” 

Dammit enhanced hearing. 

“I bet you aren’t, I put the music too loud to avoid hearing the screeching myself.” Scratching your cheek you looked at him in the eye and quickly looked away. 

“Well, I live downstairs, do you… er need some help?” Peter looked past you, his eyes landing on the piled boxes and the furniture indeed resting in the center of the room.

“No need, I think I caused enough mayhem,”

“Nonsense, I would be also doing it for myself, if I help you you will finish early, hence I can have silence in my own apartment.” 

After a second you nodded, stepping aside. “Alright then.”

“My name’s Peter Parker by the way, I live literally below you.” His big hand extended, you met his and soon you two were moving furniture around the apartment, the music didn’t sound like noise in Peter’s ears any more, he in fact found out you really liked The Strokes.

The next morning Peter woke up with a banging headache, a brick wall fell over him when he tried to save a dog from a fire down by Little Italy. Only positive thing about his heroic act was that the owner of the dog handed him a little coupon card for free pizzas for the rest of the year at his son’s pizzeria two blocks down. He was definitely using that one.

A soft almost imperceptible knock startled him as he swallowed two ibuprofens with a big gulp of black coffee. The coffee was cold but he couldn’t care less.

As if he wasn't sure the knock had been on his door, he opened it slowly, you couldn’t be too sure anyway. At least his spider senses weren’t skyrocketing, which was always good.

His eyes found emptiness, there was no one at his door, his head popped out, looking to the right then the left and then a sweet smell caught his attention. Syrup-y, vanilla like.

Eyes went to the floor instinctively, right at his feet there was a yellow plate, a baby blue sticky note on the plastic wrapping it. 

His brows furrowed as he squatted down. 

Hi, Peter Parker.

I’m so sorry I disturbed your peace last night, 

take these pancakes as an apology and as a thank you for your help.

Have a good day,

- your noisy top floor neighbor.

Peter felt a flutter in his chest, he hadn’t eaten pancakes in so long, and these looked extremely good. The plastic wrap was forming little condensation drops, so he picked it up, with a smile forming on his lips.

As soon as the wrap was discarded his apartment filled with the smell of sweet homey goodness. Even a little plastic pot of syrup was resting at the side of the pancakes. He looked at them for a good minute, just appreciating the looks of it. 

“Okay…” he mumbled to himself as he grabbed a fork, his cold coffee still half drunk near his left hand.

Peter firstly dipped his pinky in the syrup and as he sucked on it he couldn’t help to make a sound of pure joy. Pouring the gooey thing over the spongy misshapen circles was making his mouth water and the first bite was like a whole new experience to him. He noticed how the pancakes were soft like he imagined clouds were, then he chewed on something sour his eyes widened, looking down he noticed the very well hidden blueberries.

It was like having a party in his mouth, warm, sugary with a hint of sourness and then all combined, he moaned as his forehead hit the surface of the counter in his kitchen. 

“You have to be kidding me!” 

Peter was a fan of berries in general but there was definitely something in the blueberries that made him extremely happy, it was almost childish, it was probably the memories of his mom adding them to his cereal when he refused to eat something else.

The whole thing disappeared in less than a few minutes. He was both flattered and a bit insulted by you for giving him six pancakes instead of the common amount of three but he was also very grateful, he hadn’t had a breakfast like that since he lived with May, and that had been years ago. This made him feel warm inside, almost loved.

The water of the sink cleaned the remains of the food and he stared at the plate, a big pink smiley face was painted on the center of it, this made him chuckle, one that vanished as quickly as it came. How was he supposed to give you back your plate, he was not good at cooking, well… only if you appreciated instant ramen or mac and cheese coming from a box.

He wasn’t very fond of the idea of returning your plate empty, made him feel ungrateful, even though he had been the one handing you his services, it hadn’t taken much from him to help you anyway, you had been nice and chatty, he even enjoyed being around you, and Peter didn’t enjoy being around many people. 

With a deep sigh he left the cheery plate to dry on the rack, he had to go to work now.

Working for this new lab was something he didn’t expect to feel excited about but being part of the genetics department was probably the best decision they made for him, he could check all kinds of weird things, giving him access to classified information that was also helpful for his arachnid counterpart. 

But just today wasn’t one of those days, his mind kept on drifting to you and your plate and those freaking incredible pancakes. Deep down he thought of finding ways to help you so he could eat those delicious fluffy things at least once more. For now he had to just entertain the idea, soon he focused on options to give you back your stuff without even going knocking at your door.

Because that would be weird? Isn’t it? To knock and give your plate back with a nod and then disappear without a word. It seemed too impolite and somehow Peter wanted to seem like a complete gentleman with you, after all he had been a bit forward last night, he was tired and upset and you were being so noisy but now here he was in a dilemma. 

Lunch felt like a slap, like a bucket of cold water, his sandwich tasted like sandpaper –not that he had tried it but he guessed that’s what it tasted like–not even his favorite drink from the vending machine seemed good enough in comparison to his three Michelin star breakfast. Swinging back home felt a little better than going in the subway, he made a mental note to fix his motorcycle, he didn’t need to deal with the heat of the city when he could drive to work and back and enjoy the breeze.

You know how destiny and coincidences are such a funny thing, Peter decided to take the elevator to his floor instead of just crawling up to his window. He just felt like it, so he stood there waiting until the door clinked sliding open, revealing a figure inside, your sparkly eyes was the first thing he saw.

Peter almost gasped.

“Peter! Hi,”

“Hey! Are you heading out?” duh how are you so smart, Parker? “I mean yeah of course you are, if not you wouldn’t be here.”

You chuckled. “Yes, I just ran out of milk.” Cheeks going pink, Peter smirked.

“Right, well, I won’t get in your way.”

“Okay, see you around.” 

Peter walked in the elevator and just as you walked past him, he held the door open just to see you for a little longer.

“Hey!” he quickly shouted. your hair flipping as you twirled to face him. “Thanks for the pancakes, they were really good, like exceptionally amazing.” 

“Ha, wow no, thank you, I really appreciate what you did for me yesterday, hopefully there won't be more disturbances in the future.” 

“Please, be my guest, if you need something you know where to find me.” 

“Will try not to bother you much but it’s good to know, thanks!” 

Peter was grinning. “By the way, the blueberries were quite the surprise, they’re my favorite.”

Your whole face brightened “Good! You were lucky, then. It was Blueberry Wednesday.”

Chest fluttering and all, Peter saw you wave at him and disappear out the door, his way to his apartment felt light, like all his worries had suddenly evaporated. His apartment seemed cozier too. Kicking off his shoes, he went to grab a glass of water, his eyes finding the happy yellow and pink plate, he almost choked.

“Oh shit! What am I going to do with you?”

Scratching his neck, he really needed an excuse now. He wanted to see you again.

[silkscream]

could you do a soft fluffy smut with peter in his suit. reader and peter have discussed that hes super hot in it lol. with fingering, reader receiving oral, maybe thigh riding. no p in v. just super cute and soft?

nsfw ahead. 18+ only.

"you're so pretty," you pout out of nowhere. the dreamy tone of your voice almost makes it sound like you didn't mean to say the thought out loud, but when your hazy gaze reaches peter's brown eyes, you giggle when you see his raised eyebrows.

"shouldn't i be saying that about you?" he whispers into your ear, holding you closer by the waist.

"mm. you might be prettier, pete."

"impossible."

you grin, playing with the tuft of hair at the base of his neck while your other hand stays planted on his right shoulder. you sway gracefully while he follows you, stepping gently forward and to the side as he dances to the rhythm of your leading movements.

"you're doing a pretty good job at this. i thought you said you didn't get to go to prom because of your duties. and then that one homecoming dance in high school got fuckin', you know--"

"may refreshed some steps with me before the gala," peter chuckles lowly in your ear. it shouldn't make you shiver this much, the warmth of his breath on your jaw, but his proximity makes your lust difficult to ignore. it wasn't just the subtle touches or the way he clearly started using the cologne you'd gotten him for his birthday last year -- no, it was the fact that peter was dancing with you right now in a suit at all. maybe it was the wine, but he looked so... edible. but that wasn't something you wanted to disclose during the avengers charity gala, where you and peter had promised to be on your best behavior.

he was making it too fucking hard.

"you look too damn good, parker."

"i should be saying that to you."

"you could be saying that and a lot more to me if we were home."

he snorts, raising your arm above your head so that you can spin around during your slow dance. he marvels at the way your hair falls against your bare shoulders.

"how much wine did you have to drink?"

"enough," you breathe against his face. "my dress feels like it's about to fall off, would you mind helping me tie the strings in the back somewhere more private?"

he raises a brow. "i know what you're doing."

"so let me do it," you whisper, grinning. peter's eyes are nearly bugged out in response, looking at you eagerly. he says nothing, only holds your hand as you lead him from the dancefloor to a separate room.

"should we just leave?" he asks.

"no, let's go outside! it's so pretty out."

the two of you end up in a courtyard, eventually delving deeper into the gardens as you get closer to the lake. it's nearly pitch-black if wasn't for the lanterns outside of the exit, along with the bright full moon shining over the hotel.

eventually, the two of you stumble upon a bench that's more than secluded from the venue. you fall into peter's lap and his hands are already all over you.

"this was your master plan all along, wasn't it," he coos into your ear.

"no," you shake your head, though you know he's right. "you know how i get when i see you in a suit.

"what else was i supposed to wear to a gala, baby?"

"i wish you were in your fucking birthday suit right now."

he smirks at you, narrowing his eyes in a way that matches the mischievous look on your own face. instead of responding, he locks his lips with yours shamelessly, grabbing you by the hips so that you fall onto his lap.

it's all teeth and tongue once he nearly licks off your lip gloss. you cup his sharp jaw with your hands, but he grabs your wrists just to place them behind your back, clasped by his one large hand. your dress is pooled around your hips while you grind on him, which causes him to groan.

his other one searches for your skin under your dress until he can feel the slickness of your cunt through your thong.

"someone's excited," peter muses.

"uh huh," you exhale. "like i don't feel a raging boner against me."

he chuckles breathily, which quickly turns into a husk groan once his fingers actually touch the wetness in between your lips. you give a strangled cry once you feel him rub against your swollen clit.

"fuck," you whimper. the sweet sound from your mouth only eggs him on.

"you want more?"

"please, oh, oh my god. just like that." you feel him stretch out your pussy with two fingers immediately, sliding in and out of you with ease from your slick. you can't even begin to steady your heart and your gasps of breath, not from how good it feels to have his fingers inside of you. you need more.

"i want you to fuck me."

"i don't have a condom, baby," he whispers. "we can do it later. let me make you cum right now, first."

you whine as you feel him curl his fingers into you, deep towards your cervix. you had almost forgotten how big his hands were considering how deep he's getting, just brushing right where your g-spot is.

"oh my god."

"yeah? right here?" he coos, nibbling on your ear.

you can't get out words. at least not any coherent ones. your high-pitched whimpers are enough for peter to know that you're close.

"oh my god," you moan. "i'm... i'm gonna--"

the feeling of his fingers making you full suddenly disappears. you whine loudly, opening your eyes to see him smirking and licking your juices off of his fingers.

"petey, i was so close!" you whine. he can't bear to leave you so upset, so whiny like a little baby. but goddamn, does he love to tease you and how desperate you are, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he kisses you right underneath your jaw.

"and you're gonna finish, honey. i promise."

his movements are sudden, though maybe it's just you being surprised by the effortlessness of his super strength. within a blink of an eye, you're sitting on the bench now, your dress hiked up to your hips while peter kneels in the sand beneath you.

you barely get to respond to him before he latches his mouth onto your clit, his tongue massaging you while his fingers soak up your wetness. if the feeling of him sucking on your clit isn't enough, you certainly feel full once you feel his fingers back in the depth of your cunt the way they'd been moments before. he digs into you, reaching the walnut cavern of your sweet spot while his tongue edges you to the precipice of paradise.

the stars come quickly. it feels like a threshold that explodes completely, the bliss of it hitting your neurons harder than you'd expected.

"you cumming for me, baby?" peter taunts.

"y-yes, i-- oh my god, i--"

you can't even form words. the only thing that falls from your mouth is the slight mewl of his name, like a love letter. you whimper as you ride out your high, your head falling onto the shoulder of his suit jacket.

"you might be the prettiest thing i've ever seen," peter murmurs. he smiles softly, pressing his lips to your hairline sweetly.

you let out a breathy laugh. "do you think anyone's noticed we're gone?"

"oh, absolutely. and we aren't gonna hear the end of it when we get back."

[whumpsandwhimpers]

INTRO POST!

HI fellow whump lovers!! I'm Aster! (my main is @ablatheringblatherskite!)

I have finally decided to make a whump blog. Mostly because I'm having a hard time sorting and finding the posts I reblogged on my main. My main will still be getting a bunch of whump stuff, but this sideblog will be exclusively whump!!

I'm mostly a fanfic writer, although I do have some original stories in the works!

Some fandoms I've written for: Phantom of the Opera, One Piece, Les Mis, Spider-Man, Daredevil, Wednesday

Blorbos I've Whumped (Or will whump): Raoul de Chagny, Erik (the Phantom), Roronoa Zoro, Sanji, Tyler Galpin, Peter Parker, Matt Murdock

READ MY WHUMP FICS HERE!

IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm also a Christian. So far the only whump I avoid is explicit and NSFW whump. I'm fine with graphic gore and violence, but avoid the more sexual side of whump. I ALSO DO NOT EVER INTEND TO WRITE KINKY THINGS!

Some whump stuff I like!:

Restraints!!!! (shackles attached to the wall or ceiling, chained, tied to a chair, bound on the floor or in a stress position, gags, cloth gags and duct tape on the mouth, collars and muzzles, hidden restraints, etc.)

Kidnapped and capture!!

Body horror (especially paired with non-con body mod)

Torture!!

Mouth/eyelids stitched shut

Manhandling!!

Living Weapon

Stress position

Dehumanization, Infantilization, and Humiliation

Pet whump (obviously not the NSFW kind)

Creepy whumper

Intimate whumper (yes ofc not the NSFW kind. More like ruffling their hair, patting their cheeks, holding their face, playing with their hair or ears, etc.)

Non-sexual, noncon touching

Exhaustion (but particularly when it's with an art form)

Performance whump (is this a thing. Like being forced to sing/dance for whumper's entertainment)

Experimentation and lab whump (Lab rat whumpee!!)

Forced obedience

Manipulation, mind games and gaslighting

Body control (Like, when whumper is only in control of the body but not the mind, so whumpee is trapped in their mind and forced to watch)

Enslaved whumpee (IDK WHAT THIS IS CALLED but basically when a usually non-human whumpee is forced to serve and obey their master, whether that came about through a contract or the master somehow finding a way to trap them into servitude)

Whumpee being turned into a puppet (literally and figuratively)/Literally being puppeteered with strings

Brainwashing/mind control

Sensory deprivation

Branding

Carving skin with a knife (carving words, or maybe a creepy smile on the corners of whumpee's mouth!)

Resigned whumpee, especially a defiant whumpee becoming broken and resigned and afraid

Small cages

Trophy Whumpee (Whumpee to be shown off and be pretty)

Part human part cyborg whumpee (especially if they're turned into one non con)

Royal whumpee

Public whump (public humiliation and being used as an example/to discourage people mmmmm)

Dismemberment/general mutilation

Waterboarding/Head being dunked into water forcefully

Good ol' classic beating while whumpee is restrained/already down

And probably more that I've forgotten!!

Aaaand that's all I guess! Let the whumping begin!

Tags and stuff:

#asterrisks, #favorites, #aster's writings, #aster's snippets, #my reblog additions, #blorbos

#whump writing, #whump writing references, #whump, #whump art, #whump prompts, #whump writings, #crack whump, #whump dialogue, #whump humor, #masterlist

#whumpee, #whumper, #caretaker, #carewhumper, #multiple whumpers, #multiple whumpees, #non human whumpee, #trophy whumpee, #lab rat whumpee, #resigned whumpee, #broken whumpee, #possessive whumper, #intimate whumper, #creepy whumper, #creepy/intimate whumper, #royal whumpee, #defiant whumpee, #scared whumpee, #sarcastic whumpee, #stoic whumpee, #royal whumpee, #sadistic whumper, #scared whumpee

#restraints, #bound, #chains, #hanging from the ceiling, #tied to a chair, #tied to a tree, #cells, #gagging, #muzzles, #mouth stitched shut, #muted, #blindfolded, #leashes, #collars, #shock collars, #electrocution, #forced drinking, #drugged/drugging, #paralysis, #stress position, #forced to watch, #forced to hurt a friend, #forced smile, #forced labor, #forced obedience, #mind control, #controlled, #body control, #loss of autonomy, #punishments, #manhandling, #kneeling, #stepping on whumpee, #noncon touching, #bullying, #torture, #sleep #torture, #past torture, #injuries, #digging into injury, #beating, #stripping, #whipping, #strangling, #suffocation, #waterboarding, #branding, #noncon haircut, #noncon body modification, #experimentation, #sensory deprivation, #gunpoint, #guns, #knives, #glass whump, #curses, #sacrifices, #sickness #being recorded, #used as bait, #transportation, #mutilation, #dismemberment, #permanent damage

#conditioning, #self-deprecation, #self harm, #mind games, #screams, #sobbing, #resignation, #dehumanization, #humiliation, #infantilization, #degradation, #desperation, #trauma, #triggers, #vague discomfort, #distrust, #dazed, #horrified, #mocking, #betrayal, #guilt, #amnesia, #hallucinations

#captured, #body horror, #rescue, #recovery, #hostage whump, #royal whump, #lab whump, #medical whump, #magic whump, #superhero whump, #pirate whump, #superpower whump, #undercover whump, #public whump, #surprise whump, #pet whump, #domestic whump, #cybernetic whump, #performance whump, #cosmetic whump, #living weapon, #hurt/comfort

[lolahauri]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Jealousy, Jealousy

Ship: Bree Van De Kamp/Reader

Type: F/F, Smut, One Shot. (MDNI)

Contains: Canon Divergence, Dom! Jealous! Bree, Sub! Reader, Arguments, Make Up Sex, Mommy Kink, Oral, Face Sitting, Smut.

Words: 1.1k

Requested?: Yes.

A/N: My first couple drafts weren't working very well, so I ended up making this one a little short and fast paced. Hope it's not too OOC!😭

~

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, reaching for your house keys. It'd been another long night at Lynette's, you'd spent the last 2 weeks babysitting her children while she worked overtime to be able to afford the divorce she was currently facing.

Usually you wouldn't mind helping a friend in need, but you were staying at her house nearly all day. First watching Penny once Lynette left for work, then watching the twins and Parker after school, and then you'd almost always end up staying to help her with chores around the house.

And since you'd never had experience with kids like this before, it was becoming draining very fast. All you wanted now was to get home and go straight to bed.

As soon as you stepped inside though, you were surprised by Bree sitting on the sofa, arms crossed and a sour expression on her face. She glared at you once she heard the door close, standing up and walking angrily towards you.

"Where on earth have you been!?" you winced at her tone, "For God's sake (Name), it's nearly 10pm!"

Guilt was starting to creep up on you. "I know, I know. I'm so sorry hun, I was stuck helping-"

"Lynette?" She finished the sentence for you, giving you an accusatory look. One of her hands reached up to grab your cheeks, "You know, I really don't appreciate how much alone time you're spending with her lately."

A warm, tingling sensation began to spread over you. You weren't used to seeing this jealous, dominate side of her. It made you both very turned on, and a little scared. You eyes darted from her eyes to her lips, and back to her eyes. Her gaze was practically piercing through you.

"Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Her head tilted as she asked you, her hand moving your head to force close eye contact.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to ignore you." Your breathe hitched a little, quickly trying to squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of the growing arousal.

Bree smirked at your response, she knew exactly what she was doing to you. "Hm. I suppose that's a good start. But I think it'll take more than that to make it up to me."

You nodded slowly, "Okay, right. What do you, um, want me to do?" It was honestly embarrassing how fucking horny this was making you, but you just love when she takes charge.

"Why don't you just let me show you, hm?" as soon as you agreed, she grabbed your arm and lead you to the stairs. Butterflies swarmed your stomach as you got closer to the master bedroom. Tonight was going to be fun.

~

The second she locked the bedroom door behind you, you were all over each other, feeling so sexually starved that you didn't want to waste any more time. By the time you two reached the bed, you were both in nothing but your bra and panties, leaving all your clothes to be scattered across the floor.

Her hands were running all over your body, never taking her lips off of yours. Every little squeeze and grab was making you gasp into her mouth, gripping her hips and pressing them into you.

She eventually pulled her lips away to edge you towards the bed, telling you to lie down. Both of you were panting and stripping the last of your clothing off. Your cunt already soaked and throbbing at the sight of her fully nude body climbing on top of you. You weren't sure what to expect yet, but you didn't really care at this point, you just needed to fuck her already.

Bree leaned down to your ear, talking just above a whisper as she took one of your tits in her hand, kneading it just enough to make you squirm. "Be a good girl and let mommy use your face, okay?"

"Fuck, yes." You're already turning into a moaning mess for her, "Please, use me mommy."

She laughed a little at your desperation, leaving a few lingering kisses on your face before crawling up. Her cunt was soon hovering just above you, thighs on either side of your head, fully caging you in.

"Open wide for mommy." She cooed, slowly lowering herself down after you stuck your tongue out. You both sighed once contact was made. She tasted like heaven, it was almost making you dizzy.

You moved you hands up to grip the front of her thighs, pressing her down onto your face. She moaned out in surprise when your tongue started to swipe up and down her cunt like a zipper, barely grazing over her clit.

Seeing how eager you were, she took charge again. Rocking back and forth on your face. Letting your tongue explore her hole while grinding her clit across your nose. She was moaning and gasping loudly now, feeling a knot steadily tying up in her stomach.

Your mouth and chin was nearly dripping in her juices already, only becoming more soaked as she sped up her actions. She was putting all of her weight on you now, grinding harshly and crying out so beautifully from the pleasure.

It was clear she was getting close already.

You moved your hands from her legs to her ass and hips, squeezing roughly. Bree moaned louder with each rough grip on her ass, orgasm building up more each second.

It only took a few more rolls of her hips across your mouth before her climax erupted. Almost screaming as her juices flooded out onto your tongue. The electricity shooting through her body got stronger as she felt you lapping up every bit of her orgasm.

Once she began to tremble from overstimulation, she slowed down to a complete stop, taking deep ragged breathes and lazily pulling away from you, lying down at your side. Both of you stayed there in content silence, still trying to catch your breathe.

After cooling down for a moment, you turned and reached over to the nightside to grab a napkin, assuming Bree was doing the same when you heard the one near her open as well.

Instead, you were suddenly pinned down onto your stomach, making you let out a shocked gasp. You heard some shuffling behind you as she pressed a hand into your mid-back. Though your mind was still foggy from the lack of sleep and excess work, you knew exactly what was coming.

Your lower abdomen burned with aching arousal, whimpering out when you felt the cool silicone toy brush against your ass cheek. Bree pressed it against you harder as she knelt back down your ear.

"It's your turn now, dear." Her voice sounded sickly sweet, almost in a mocking tone.

You knew now it was going to be a long night.

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 16 | Friends and Curiosities

Chapter Sixteen | Friends and Curiosities

Parker couldn’t believe it. Within such a short amount of time, he suddenly had a dozen followers and friends on his page.

Sure, he didn’t know them personally, but everyone was welcoming and polite – two things he was eager to report to his mom when she expressed concern. The miniscule boy also made sure his mom knew he was being safe, not giving out too much personal information, and that the topic of his condition hadn’t even been brought up.

One person commented on his profile picture being interesting, which was a picture of Parker standing in front of his computer screen, but he just explained it was a background and that he wanted to showcase the platform he was publishing on. Karl was the kid’s name, and evidently he and Parker were the same age.

All in all, Parker was pleased with his interactions and the people he was meeting. Lots of them had advice and things for him to check out, and he liked all of the things he was seeing.

There were sketches of space and vast mountains as well as the everyday interactions. There were hundreds of stories from writers just like him.

It felt nice. It felt like some kind of community with people supporting and helping one another. A sense of satisfaction filled the young teen every time he checked his notifications and saw he was getting the chance to meet someone new.

“Just look here, mom,” said Parker eagerly as he showed his mom the latest post he made. “It has almost fifteen likes!” He looked up into his mom’s features and saw her beaming with pride.

“That’s so great, Parker,” she complemented. “Are you going to post your latest story from Mr. Tamplin’s class?”

“I… think so. I don’t know yet though. It doesn’t feel done,” he replied, feeling his cheeks getting warm. The latest story he came up with for Mr. Tamplin’s class was a fiction fantasy story about a sprite named Tal’el. It essentially was his backstory for the Dungeons and Dragons campaign he and his friends started.

Basically, he was a small fairy-like person who was a poison master for his people until he decided he wanted to go out adventuring and exploring. The Dungeon Game Master said it was fine if he played a smaller character, thankfully not questioning why he would want to do such a thing and found a special class for him to play as.

The story actually won a young adult author award for his class and Parker had Mr. Tamplin to thank since it was he who tutored him through his writing slumps. He was now refining it for his literature class.

“Well, don’t be scared to post it sweetie. You’re such a great writer and can do whatever you set your mind to,” encouraged his mom. “Now before you get sucked into checking your notifications, finish your homework and get ready for bed. You have a long day tomorrow.”

“Yes, momma,” Parker replied, rolling his screen back into place in the main area. The structure walls rumbled as his mom closed the outside walls to his home. It was hard to believe it had been a whole month since he “moved in” to this new space.

Parker loved it, in a weird way.

Not to sound ungrateful, but having his own space to roam around, especially in a space that felt suited to him, made him feel just a little bit normal. He liked that he was usually at eye-level with his mom instead of having her loom over him. Just the thought made him shudder involuntarily, and he wasn’t sure why.

It made him feel guilty every time the sensation seized him.

But, now was not the time to dwell on that. It was time for bed.

Parker walked into his room and rummaged through his dresser to find his oversized space t-shirt and elastic band sleep shorts. Then, he went back to the computer and finished submitting his assignments. The words filled the page and Parker hoped that his paper on the evolution of technology was going to be good enough to get him the grade he needed.

Parker’s other assignments were a breeze. Math was simple enough and the biology project about documenting the growth of plants was going smoothly. It was his other project, his story for his literature course, that he was worried about. It was his same story that he was using for his channel, but it was more a mild fear of rejection and lack of perfection.

His online friends liked it, but would his teacher? His followers?

Parker sighed and leaned against the wall before slinking down further into the chair. His eyes focused on the blinking line in front of him as he stared at the end of the fifth chapter he had been editing. Something about this story felt particularly personal, but Parker remembered hearing once about how writers put more of themselves than they’re aware of when they’re making characters and stories.

Perhaps this was just part of that feeling?

The teen sighed and stretched when, suddenly, his lights flickered up above him.

Confusion injected itself into his mind as he stared at the wired lights on the ceiling. His eyes flicked over to the wall switch.

Perhaps just a fluke?

The notion was dismissed when the lights flickered two more times, all of his lights dimming and glowing systematically.

Something raised the hair on the back of Parker’s neck. He felt like he was on pins and needles, the anticipation of a drop while suspended in mid-air. Cautiously, the curious teen stood up and walked over to the switch, examining it closely.

It was still up and wasn’t jiggling or loose.

The lights flickered again.

It felt like he was in a spooky movie, of which Parker had only ever seen one in his life along with a couple of older “thrillers” like Alien and Jaws. Even those movies were censored because his mom didn’t want him to get too spooked.

Was there something wrong with the plug?

Parker glanced at the window at the back by the stairs and, just for a moment, he could have sworn he saw something.

It looked like the quick flick of a shadow.

It was quick and Parker wasn’t even sure if he knew what he saw. He did just step out of his room after all, and he had been staring at his computer screen, which he knew sometimes made shadows appear when there weren’t any.

He held deathly still, his entire body locking up like a perfect figurine. His body fell naturally into the position as he slowly crouched and laid his hand against the floor, as if he could detect any trembling or motion.

He didn’t get a chance to investigate for long though. Before he could make his way to the stairs in his crouched position, there was a knock on the table that made Parker nearly jump out of his skin.

“Parker? Are you going to bed soon?” Parker’s entire body shivered as he pushed himself upright and heaved in a few deep breaths. Every nerve in his body felt electrified. While his heart continued to thrum rapidly, he cleared his throat and called over his shoulder to his mom as the sides of the walls began to open.

“Y-y-yeah, mom. I’m ready for bed,” said Parker. He glanced up at the lights stayed on without the slightest hint of a flicker. The walls opened fully and, instantly, Parker saw his mom’s brow furrow quizzically.

“Everything okay? You look a bit pale,” she said. The maternal instinct in Amanda kicked in and she reached forward and pressed the tip of her finger against Parker’s forehead. He shied away from it, which was typical teenage behavior, but something else felt off about Parker that Amanda couldn’t quite place.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. I just…” Parker stopped short. It felt like something physically squirmed in his mind, preventing him from saying something about the shadow and the lights. He shook the notion loose, confused as to why this instinct flared up in him, and proceeded with his thought. “I just saw the lights flicker and got spooked.”

“Oh?” Amanda replied as she glanced over and looked down at the power strip that fed electricity into Parker’s Place. Nothing looked off about it to her, but she still knelt and glanced around the ground.

Still nothing.

“Well,” she sighed as she stood and walked back over to the front of Parker’s tiny home. “I don’t see anything. It looks like it’s all plugged in, but we’ll check on it tomorrow. Okay? For now, it’s bedtime.”

“Yes, momma,” replied Parker as he walked up to the edge and accepted the kiss on his torso that his mom gave him. With that, Amanda smiled and watched as Parker curled under the blankets, forming an almost imperceptible lump in the bed. “Goodnight momma. I love you.”

“I love you too, Parker. Sweet dreams my love.” Amanda closed the walls and secured them tightly before tiptoeing out of the room and to her own room to turn in for the night.

Just in the other room, Parker laid there with his heart still fluttering nervously. Everything in him was still on edge, and the curiosity of what was going on with his lights was really bothering him. Parker enjoyed a good mystery or puzzle, but he generally liked ones he could solve.

This one wasn’t solved yet.

For what felt like a couple of hours, Parker tossed and turned in his bed as a mixture of homework assignments and curiosities about the power outlet swirled like a mist in his mind. The more the young teen thought, the more it annoyed him that he didn’t have the answers.

He had had enough.

Parker pushed himself up and decided to go and check out the source of the flickering lights. If it was a cable going bad or possibly the breaker being loose, he needed to get a new one as soon as possible. It would be terrible if he was in class and his power went out. His mom said they would do it in the morning, but Parker knew himself; and he knew he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t at least go and see it for himself.

He couldn’t afford to not check it out with his presentation tomorrow.

The teen stepped noiselessly through his house and exited the front door. As he walked around, he noticed a few things that just seemed, in a word, natural.

Sound was amplified. The darkness in the corners of the room seemed brighter. He could feel every tremble in the desk from his footsteps.

As he made it outside, a choice presented itself to him. For a moment, he considered going down the climbing line he installed himself on the backside of the desk.

But he knew if he slipped on the rope and got hurt, which he never did, his mom would make him take down the line.

He decided to risk it.

It was late. She was asleep. Parker was as sure footed as a goat and knew he would be fine all the way down. The temptation was also too great for the teen to resist. Plus, it would be a lot faster.

There was something about the experience that was, in a word, liberating. The free fall. The catch. The feel of the rope in between his fingers.

It felt natural.

The urge to climb and fall and hide never failed to fascinate parker. Whether it was something his condition genetically programmed him to do so or if it was some personality trait he possessed, he didn’t know.

What he did know was the sensation was addictive and he was itching for a good climb.

Parker snagged the line in between his fingers and leaned over the edge of the desk. There was a mild sense of vertigo that swelled inside him, but he loved it. The weightlessness seized him as he let himself slip over the edge, hands and feet firmly in place and secured on the line.

The line burned against the teen’s palms and against his legs as he quickly descended. It felt like something a secret agent would do, and it felt epic.

The moment Parker’s feet hit the ground, he felt himself instinctually look around and crouch low. Silently, he stepped across the planks of wood that constructed the floor and walked toward the power strip that was only a few feet away. The whole thing was four times Parker’s size, but he navigated through the wires with ease.

His hands worked quickly to check the buttons and reset panels, and the teen could find nothing wrong with any of it.

Perhaps something is up with the electrical cover in the wall? Parker wondered silently. He jumped over the stiff cord that led to the wall and approached the trim on the wall which had small notches in it, so he didn’t need to snag a ladder.

As he approached, Parker noticed something by the very base of the electrical cover that made his hair stand on end.

It was a drill bit.

Flat head.

It was a tad bit rusty, and Parker didn’t recognize it from his mom’s kit that she used to help construct his space. He approached and picked it up, realizing it wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be. In his hands, it was about twice the size of the drill that his mom used, and he realized he could probably carry it around easy enough; but where did it come from?

I don’t think this is mom’s drill bit. How’d it get here?

Parker glanced up at the electrical cover and felt his heart skip a beat as he noticed the screw for the wall socket was protruding from the wall ever so slightly.

His entire body was shaking now, but he wasn’t sure why.

Had his mom messed with the electrical cover with some old tools that she forgot about?

It didn’t seem like her.

Parker stepped up on the trim, balancing precariously and using the cord to stabilize himself, as he pushed on the very bottom of the electrical cover.

With almost no effort, the piece wiggled free and the screw clattered to the ground. The end looked a lot shorter than the others. He knew because he helped his mom replace the covers a few weeks ago.

The young teen took a few deep breaths to calm himself before he dared to peek inside. Engulfing darkness belonging to the wall consumed his vision. There was something exciting and enticing about the darkness in front of him.

It felt, in a word, familiar.

But why?

Parker felt his head beginning to throb as his mind stirred some fragmented memory, but it was hazy and distant.

What really set the teen on edge, however, was when he dared to push himself up onto the ledge to peer better into the wall and noticed something else that made his insides fill with nervous energy.

There was something that looked like a pencil mark. Two lines with a triangle on top followed by a little check mark on the inside. To Parker, it looked like a kid’s drawing of a house with a check mark inside of it.

Was this something his mom did?

Or was this some kind of construction mark?

What was this?

What did it mean?

The teen stared at the marks and then back to the darkness of the wall. Just like the shadows of the room when he stepped out of his house, the looming abyss of those narrow spaces between the walls didn’t seem very dark. It almost seemed inviting.

There was something about that confined space between the drywall and the studs and exterior boards that made Parker feel like he was back in his space. It was familiar.

But why?

Parker hadn’t realized that he had been learning forward to the point where he was barely hanging onto the edge of the electrical cover and leaning into the walls. It took the sound of his foot skidding against the wood and nearly tumbling headfirst into the space in front of him.

Startled and shaken, Parker pulled himself back out of the entryway into the walls, forced the electrical cover back onto its perch, and hurried back to his room. He was in such a tizzy, the young teen didn’t even realize he had gone straight to the secured line he left and climbed up it in record time, ignoring the staircase mere feet away.

His little feet barely made noise as he scurried back to his room, securing the door and slipping under his covers without so much as a squeak.

Parker’s mind was racing. What was that he just saw? And what was that weird draw he had toward the walls?

Hopefully, his mom would have the answers.

First thing in the morning, he would ask her. She would make everything better, right?

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

Beginning

[thehorrorgirlstyles]

thehorrorgirlstyles's Masterlist !

Updated 10/4/2024

welcome to my masterlist

Hi thank you for reading! Request are open. Most of my stories will include 18+ content. Some have mentions of non-consensual and dark themes. Warnings will be included, read at your own risk! If you wish to be tagged to a future post please comment on that post and I will try to get back to you. Tags will be found at the end of each post. My stories and this account are for fun and shouldn't be taken seriously! My stories are not proofread and there could be spelling errors, just skip over them. :) If a story or part contains some type of smut an 18+ sign will be by the title. I will try to make updates and finish parts as soon as I can! If I plan to make a lot of fics of a certain character I will post a separate page for that character, all links can be found here. More stories on the way......

New writer please be nice, everyone is welcomed here!

Note: Sometimes the links don't work, just let me know and I will fix it asap!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie Munson

Opposites Attract

You are the queen of Hawkins high, being a cheerleader and dating the football captain Jason, however after spending time with the dungeon master and getting to know just how attractive he is, while Jason shows his true colors one night, your love for the blonde slowly starts to fade away and is replaced by an ache needing to be relieved by Eddie “the freak” Munson…

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 18+

Part 4

Part 5 18+

Billy Hargrove

Best Kept Secret

Billy is a dick to everyone and your brother is his number one hater, however, he's so hard to resist.

Part 1 18+

Part 2

Part 3

Steve Harrington

coming soon......

Ethan Landry

Tainted Love 18+

You meet Ethan at a Halloween party Chad invited you to and start to become close to him, when the truth is later then revealed of his family’s plan. Was your relationship ever real or was it all a lie?

Billy Loomis

Make you scream 18+

You find out your boyfriend is Ghostface, which should scare you, instead it turns you on even more.

Peter Parker

Boner

Your dad has been keeping Peter away from you, making you want even more attention from him, so you come up with a plan that will have Peter drooling at the site of you.

Loki

Be my Queen

Loki has taken a liken to you, wanting you to be his queen....his mother has other plans in mind.

Rafe Cameron

coming soon.....

JJ Maybank

The Kook Princess

Being best friends with Kiara means spending a lot of time with the Pogues, something that your boyfriend, Rafe, isn't to happy about.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

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Other fics

Dick Grayson

Family Affairs

You and Dick have been dating without your family knowing. What happens when they find out the truth?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Elijah Mikaelson

coming soon...

Klaus Mikaelson

coming soon...

[danwhobrowses]

Beyond the Spider-Verse Theory: The Hidden Villain

So I've left it a few days after watching Across the Spider-Verse to gather my thoughts. And while you can see my review here it's time for some theory crafting for the next movie: Beyond the Spider-Verse

This theory will discuss the existence of another villain behind the scenes

Spoilers for Across the Spider-Verse

So as we know, the main crux of the Spider Society's storyline is that the Web of Life and Destiny (aka the Spider-Verse) apparently hinges on the concept of 'Canon Events', whereby each Spider has to undergo intersecting moments in each mythos. Miguel O'Hara enforces this pattern via the Spider Society, after his attempts to 'break canon' caused the universe he inhabited, taking over from another dead Miguel's life, to die - along with his alternative universe daughter. We also learn that anomalies like this will cause the web to collapse, and thus Miles - having been bitten by another universe's spider to get spider powers, allegedly robbing the powers from another potential spider - and Spot are walking anomalies and their prolonged time in another universe may cause another collapse.

But something doesn't quite add up.

First of all, if Miles and Spot are anomalies, why is their universe still intact? Same can be said for the Earth-42 spider still in a jar. Additionally, why did Miguel's universe collapse if he had the watch that keeps his atoms good in the universe? Isn't he doing exactly what he alleges Miles is doing, taking over another Spider-person who died in this Universe? Also it's highly unlikely that every Spider is subject to the same canon events; Ben Reilly is a clone and Miguel had his DNA mixed with a spider's so surely that disrupts the OG Canon Event of the Spider-bite right? Miguel never had an Uncle Ben or a Captain Stacy moment in his mythos (unless we're suddenly counting the alt!Daughter as the former), plus in Into the Spider-Verse Gwen already said she saved her dad from dying so wouldn't that have disrupted a Canon Event? Do captains even exist for Peter Parked Car or Spidersaurus Rex?

And finally, how can you say Spot and Miles are anomalies and shouldn't be in the universe when Pravitr's Canon Event is only caused by Spot interfering with his universe?

Like I said, it doesn't add up.

So, how do we establish that the idea of 'Canon Events' are not as strict as they seem, that Miles and Spot aren't reality-threatening anomalies, but also explain what happened to the universe that traumatized Miguel - with Peter B. also as witness to verify the story?

Perhaps, someone is manipulating the web behind the scenes.

In the comics, the Web of Life and Destiny is maintained by the 'Master Weaver', a character key to Morlun and his Inheritors, and while I don't think we're going to see the Weaver in Beyond the Spider-Verse I do feel like somebody could be filling that kind of a role. So ask yourself, who do we know in the Spider-Verse who has a unique interest in other dimensions, has the mind to test and tinker, but also has a fascination slash vendetta against the spiders...

Dr. Olivia Octavius was a highlight of the first movie, but her sudden exit after being hit by a truck was considered an abrupt and unsatisfying end for her. So what if she survived? And when the collider closed she was sucked into the Web of Life and Destiny? An inquisitive mind such as herself would have a wealth of time (well, not literally, given that Miles got a glimpse of the future and Spider Society HQ is in 2099 we can assume that the web exists outside of linear time) to test things, seeing the paths and intersections of other Spiders. Liv however does have one particular Spider she seems drawn to in a negative manner though, Peter B. Parker, so what if Miguel's incident in the universe collapsing was instead an attempted hit towards Peter B., Liv attempting to wipe him out of time by wiping the universe he was in?

It does go deeper, we've seen from the Spot that in his flashback scenes he's always adjacent to Liv, they both identified the Earth-42 spider, and she was the leading scientist on the Collider, so she would have the skills to know this, and if she became able to expand her abilities by being a villainous Master Weaver (like Superior Spider-Man attempted to be by killing the Master Weaver to change his fate), she may also be responsible for directing other Spiders' paths along the same route to manipulate Miguel into his current uncharacteristic way of thinking, she may also be manipulating her colleague Spot to encourage more suffering to the Spiders.

If true, it'll at least give Miguel closure and open the door for him to be apologetic and much less of a dick, but it'd also explain how Miles could become able to divert the idea of Canon Events without destroying his or other universes, liberating each Spider to exist in their own story without having to follow the same pattern. Adding to a much bigger role for Octavius (we did see a lot of variant Doc Ocks in ATSV) would provide a cyclic conclusion to Miles' journey since his other 'first villains' Kingpin and Prowler have been defeated.

But, this is just a theory, there's much room to go other directions, but it was a thought.

[novamariestark]

Slip of the Tongue - Alden Parker

Summary: You accidentally call Alden his pet name in front of the team

Warnings: None, except maybe, use of a pet name

Word count: 1681

Fandom: NCIS

Pairing: Alden Parker x reader

[A/N] I've been working on this for weeks and it didn't really end up as well as I pictured it in my head but I am happy that my lazyass brain let me write something.

You hadn’t meant to say it. It was an accident. Just a slip of the tongue. You knew for sure that Nick was never going to let you live this down.

You and Alden have been together for about six months and for the sake of your professional relationship, you kept it secret. At least you did. It didn’t take an investigator to figure it out.

You all hadn’t long come back from a crime scene and whilst you were there, you spotted someone suspicious. His body language set him apart from all the other onlookers. That’s when Gibbs’ voice popped into your mind.

Rule 35: Always watch the watchers.

You were the team’s profiler and one of the best. Many agents came by and asked for your thoughts on possible motives or to observe an interrogation. Your journey into psychology and profiling began when you were just 15 years old. When you met Ducky. At that time, he was in the middle of his pursuit of his master’s degree in psychology. The world of the human mind had held a certain mystique that had captivated you from the start, just as much as Ducky's stories did.

When Ducky decided to retire as ME, he personally chose you and Jimmy as his successors. You initially apprehensive about taking that role given the size of the shoes you had to fill but Ducky believed that you were both more than capable to do the job. As it turned out, he was right. As usual.

When you got back to your desk, you immediately started to investigate the onlooker you had seen. You started to run him through facial recognition hoping to find something. Whilst you were waiting for a hit, you looked through the crime scene photos, looking for something you may have missed when you took the photo.

A little over an hour later, your computer beeped, and like meerkats, the team all looked up from their tasks.

“Ooh, sounds like [Y/N] has something,”

You shook your head, you hadn’t found anything, just the name of the onlooker, “No, it’s just an e-mail, ignore it,”

The team exchanged glances but didn’t push any further. You turned your attention to your “e-mail” and began scouring databases, cross-referencing information, and followed his digital trails, determined to find out if he had anything to do with it.

Soon you find out that he’s got a lengthy list of offences, violent ones, “McGee?” you spoke up, shifting in your seat to look at him.

“Yeah?” he asked looking away from his screen giving you his full attention.

“Have you looked into the wife yet?” you asked, leaning back in your chair.

McGee couldn't help but chuckle. "Don't tell me you're following Tony's logic," he teased, referring to their former colleague's penchant for the saying, "It's always the spouse."

You joined in the laughter, shaking your head. "No, just wondering. I mean, I could if you're busy,"

McGee scrunched his eyebrows at you, “Okay, what are you working on over there?” he asked getting increasingly curious.

You glanced around the room and noticed that the entire team had turned their attention to you. You sighed and then looked back at Tim. "Rule 35," you said simply.

“Really? Someone set off your spidey sense?” he asked, you nodded in response.

“Care to share?” Alden asked, “What’s rule 35?”

You chewed your lip, would he be annoyed you kept this to yourself? You opened your mouth to answer but McGee beat you to it.

“Uh, Gibbs’ rule 35. Always watch the watchers,” he explained.

“I uh, saw a man in the crowd of onlookers. His body language was different than everyone else,” you explained further, “It was just a hunch, if it led anywhere, I would tell you guys,”

“And did it?” Alden asked, standing up from his desk and walking over to yours. You looked up at him. Sometimes you wondered how you managed to concentrate at all with how damn sexy he was. All. The. Time. But you did.

“Um, the guy I saw has a restraining order against him by a Naomi Fisher,” you shrugged, “I know that’s the first name of the victim’s wife and…” you stopped when you saw a look on his face, one you couldn’t decipher. Not that you’d tell Nick that, “I’m sorry, I just thought that it was suspicious, I should have told you,” you looked down at your hands on the desk, at the keyboard, anywhere away from his eyes. Beside you, you could hear the clacking of McGee’s keyboard.

“Naomi Wilkes’ maiden name is Fisher,” he spoke up with a laugh.

“Oh, come on,” Torres groaned playfully from the other side of you, “How am I supposed to kiss ass if you’re always using your superpowers?”

Alden smiled at you, “Good job,” he said before turning to walk away.

“Thanks, daddy,” you said, immediately clasping your hands over your mouth. Alden stops dead in his tracks.

The office fell into a stunned silence, and the team's jaws dropped making it clear that they had caught your slip up. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized what you had just said. Oh shit. Why did you say that? Because he praised you? Was that your weakness?

What the hell, of course it is. You were surprised you lasted this long.

You quickly looked at Alden, "I'm sorry, Alden,"

He gave you a subtle, reassuring smile, “It’s alright, [Y/N]”

Jess exchanged a knowing glance with Tim, who wore a subtle grin and Nick was trying and failing to suppress his laugh.

“Okay, stay focused still got a case to solve. Everyone back to what they were doing,” Alden said returning to his desk, “[Y/N], create a profile on your onlooker,” he said with a smile.

You smiled back, “Sure,”

***

You delved into both his and Naomi’s background, their relationship going as far back as pre teen years. They dated, he got multiple arrests and she filed a restraining order against him 5 years ago after he almost killed her little brother. He is currently out on parole. You found the number of his officer and rang them up. After the call you find that he’s missed his appointment with his parole officer and can’t be found. You decided to call metro and ask if they could place some officers outside Naomi Wilkes house just in case he returned.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said standing up, you faintly hear Nick mumble ‘this’ll be good,’ he enjoyed watching you analyse things, as did everyone else. Especially Alden, he found it completely sexy.

“His name is Jon Milton. He was recently released from prison on parole however his parole officer doesn’t know where he is. Anyway, he has an obsessive fixation on Naomi. He is unable to accept the end of their relationship. This is a possible motive for the murder of Craig Wilkes, likely an attempt to regain control over her and may even be punishment for her moving on. He’s narcissistic, he believes he is entitled to her affection, her love, her loyalty. He sees her choices as a direct threat to his self-esteem and he reacts with anger and violence to reassert his dominance. He has a violent history which indicates that he has often resorted to aggression as a means of gaining control. He’s delusional. He’s convinced himself that killing Naomi’s husband was the only way to regain her affections. He also exhibits psychopathic traits. He’s lacking empathy or remorse for his actions. His return to the crime scene to watch Naomi grieve her husband's death demonstrates sadistic tendencies. He derives pleasure from her pain and relishes in his own cruel actions,” you finished your presentation of your findings and looked to everyone.

“I believe he did it,” you added, nodding your head to his picture on the screen, “I also believe he will continue to harm those near her. I called Metro and asked them to have officers posted outside her house,”

As the team mobilized to verify your hunch about the onlooker being the murderer, your investigation took a turn. McGee began combing through stolen car reports, cross-referencing them with camera footage from the victim's neighborhood. Soon, on one of the cameras, he spotted the stolen car, parked on the same street as the victim's residence.

Meanwhile, Kasie, the team's forensic expert, was hard at work analyzing evidence from the crime scene. She finally came across all the prints you pulled from the porch banister. Kasie ran it through the database. It matched the onlooker's known prints. This was another piece of the puzzle falling into place.

As you all pieced together these findings, your phone rang. Your BOLO alert had come back. The onlooker had just been spotted a few streets away from his ex's house. You thanked the man and immediately called the officers that were sat outside her house to warn them and let them know they were on their way.

“He’s just been spotted a few streets away from the Wilkes’ house,”

“Alright let’s move,” Alden said as he started gearing up.

***

Later that night, after you all got back after arresting Milton, you were all back in the bullpen. McGee was getting ready to leave. So were Jess and Nick, but they all noticed that you and Alden weren’t moving.

“So, uh,” Torres spoke up, “Was he playing with his plants or…”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” you laughed at him.

“Yeah, please don’t,” McGee begged.

“Okay, okay,” he said walking away, towards the elevator, “Don’t stay up too late!” he called over before the doors shut.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, you knew he wanted to keep it a secret. Well not so much a secret, just he preferred to keep your professional relationship and your personal relationship separate.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alden reassured you again, “At least you don’t have to come up with all these different lies anymore. When Torres asks you to hang out you can just say you’d rather hang out with me,”

[sunlightmurdock]

Katie, I’m thinking about parent trap Bradley again (bc when am I not thinking about him tbh 😭) but what about Mama Bradshaw getting turned on watching Bradley in his element at like a big family bbq, just looking like such a dilf with his mustache and his aviators, Hawaiian shirt with the top few buttons undone, running around after the twins and all the other kids at the party. She’s practically drooling as her eyes follow every little movement of his big arms as he picks up their little girls, or while he’s manning the grill and every time he lifts his beer bottle up to his lips… and then she’s getting up to snatch the spatula out of Bradley’s hand and practically throwing it at maverick telling him to take over grilling duties, before she pulls Bradley away and into the house for a quickie bc she’s about two seconds away from pouncing on him in the backyard in front of everyone 🫠

- @sugarcoated-lame 🧡🧡🧡

ohhhhh Kricket I can always trust you to come up with the best daddy bradshaw stuff bc I can picture this so clearly.

Bc like him grabbing Parker with one hand, the grill tongs in the other, catching her upside down right before she runs head first into the corner of a table. Spinning her around and setting her on his hip, watching that handsome smile spread across his face as he playfully scolds the toddler and waggles the tongs at her.

She giggles excitedly, thrashing around in his arm without his grasp on her ever faltering. And exactly like you said, he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt with a couple of buttons popped open and his dog tags peeking through, his gold-framed sunglasses sitting against the bump in his nose.

He’s beyond handsome, and completely in a world of his own as he man’s the grill and sings along to Maverick’s best of the 80’s playlist. He impresses you with his dad reflexes more than once, not even spilling a drop of his beer when Peyton grabs hold of his free hand and starts trying to climb up his side.

“That husband of yours is damn near perfect. I don’t know how you keep off of him.” A woman to your left comments, making your mouth twitch. It would seem she had read your mind, because you’ve already been planning to pounce on him for a while now.

You give her a polite smile, and chit-chat for exactly three minutes. That feels appropriate. Then, you finish the last of your lemonade and push up from your chair, walking over to him confidently as one of your twins tackles Maverick into the grass. They’re good and occupied.

“Hey, daddy,” You grin, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “Need your help with something baby related upstairs.”

And because your kids are having a sleepover at Maverick’s house that night, it doesn’t even cross Bradley’s mind that he might be being seduced. Not until he’s following you into the master bedroom and hearing you click the lock behind him.

“What did you need my help with that’s baby related?” He asks, lips twitching upwards into a smile as you stalk towards him with that devilish look in your eyes.

“Making another one.” You grin, grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss.

Bradley makes it back into the party first, breathing hard as he pushes Jake Seresin away from the grill and resumes his duties. His lips are swollen from kissing and his pupils are blown wide, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

You, remain to be upstairs, trying to set everything back on Maverick’s dresser in the same place it had been before your Neanderthal of a husband had swiped it all onto the floor and pushed you up onto it.