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naeverse · 5 months

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Lapdog

🐩staring: NerdMiguel x QueenBee Reader

💗 preview: “Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.

“It does…doesn't it?

🌸Summary: You, Queen Bee, have been desiring a little assistant for a while—someone who can fetch you things, do your work, assist you in any way possible, and just make life much easier. However, after witnessing a surprising occurrence with one of the lamest students on campus, Miguel O'Hara, you believe you've found just that, and maybe something even better...

💗rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

**DISCLAIMER: sexual content is featured**

🐩tw/cw. Blackmail, Caught in the act, College AU, Demeaning, Desperation, Dirty talk, Dominance, Handjob, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Ownership, Public Masturbation, Power Differences, Praising, Public, Sex toys, Vibrator, etc…

🌸Word count: 9k

Small, quiet whimpers escaped the lips of the burly man to your left. His head lowered in an attempt to hide as he diligently tackled your college work. His large, left hand trembled while he solved long math equations, expressions, logarithms, and whatever else the packet held. You shifted your gaze from the four-eyed male to two others seated at your booth.

Peter B. Parker, the captain of the football team and the golden boy of the school, sat across from you, alongside his girlfriend, Mary Jane Watson, or MJ, who was the editor of the college newspaper. They cuddled up against each other, with MJ on his chest and his arm wrapped around her.

The two were considered your "friends" at the university, forming the famous clique that instilled fear and envy in the entire student body. However, between the adored football jock and the news girl, you, on the other hand, were a much bigger deal.

Everyone knew your name, and if they didn't, you were seen as an utter disgrace due to your cluelessness.

You were known as the university's queen bee.

Everyone loved or hated you; you didn't care. Any attention was welcome. You were the leader of the notorious sorority house of baddies, with a rich family that could drop and sue anyone with the drop of a hat. You could control the student body in masses with just a word, and had everyone, even the staff, wrapped around your pretty, manicured finger.

Whatever you said went, and don't you fucking dare think otherwise; you'd be an idiot to challenge the queen. Having the ability to turn any person into a complete nobody, withering away in debts and charges, kept everyone in their place.

But you wouldn't exactly say Peter and MJ were your friends, just students at college who possessed a certain kind of power that was highly useful to have in your corner.

Peter and his kind, sweet persona solidified bonds with other universities and the dean themselves. He was the face of your campus and was hella popular.

MJ headed the media, and whatever she said or wrote in the newspaper or the college blog was believed by everyone on campus, even if it was false.

Not that anyone would know...

Peter, MJ, and you were at the top of the food chain at your university; no one else mattered and was worth the time.

So why the hell was this lowlife sitting at your booth?

Miguel O'Hara, known as the nerdiest of the nerds on your college campus, sat beside you at your usual booth in Mama's diner, your clique's hangout spot.

To be fair, you didn't classify Miguel as such; more of a loner because he didn't look like a nerd. His body was covered in bulging muscles that contrasted greatly with his quiet persona. He had a towering height that rose above most of the football team, and he got attention from girls.

Or, well...

Girls gave him attention, not like the guy minded them.

He kept to himself, always having his nose stuck in a book. To make him even more of a dork, he worked at the school library. Due to his elusive nature and how hard he was to categorize, the loner had gained a distasteful reputation; many students on campus hated him as a result.

Was he a jock due to his bulging muscles, a bad boy due to his mysteriousness and constant desire for solitude, or was he a nerd for always being found reading, and whenever he spoke, only intellectual things came out?

He was a tricky case.

And not one you cared about until today…

You never would have paid the introverted male any attention if it weren't for you, this morning, stumbling into the library in search of someone to do your homework. Instead of finding a lowlife in waiting, you found something much better…

You found Miguel in his office, located at the far back of the library, moaning and jerking off under his desk. To make matters worse, AirPods adorned his ears, blocking out any awareness of your presence. You even leaned over his shoulder to discover that he was clearly watching porn.

He was definitely an amateur...

But a needy little thing he was...

The sight before you was an honest gold mine, something that would be perfect for MJ to post on the school blog as you captured a video of the surprising occurrence.

It was hard to fathom how much his reputation, if he had one, would plummet once the entire school got a look at this. But then, being the cunning queen you were, you had a better idea for that video…

You decided to use it as a means to have an around-the-clock assistant that would come running at your every beck and call, at any given time. It was a great idea, especially with the lowlife not being unpleasant to the eyes.

So now here he was, being a good little puppy for you and doing your homework, except...

It didn't seem like your associates were too pleased with your puppy’s presence.

You met Peter's gaze, his amber eyes furrowed in confusion as he glanced from you to the muscular loner and back again. "Okay, why the hell is he here?" he finally asked after a while of just staring at the two of you. A smirk spread across your lips at his question. "I believe you have eyes, Peter. He's doing my homework," you simply said with a sly grin, continuing your subtle movements under the table, which only made the geek clench his pencil even more.

Peter and MJ recognized that look on you, that sneaky smile you wore whenever you were up to no good. But this time, they couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and how it involved the four-eyed freak.

MJ looked between you and Miguel as well, her cherry lips pursing. "Why here, though?" she asked, her head still resting against Peter's chest. "Most of the time when we meet at Mama's diner, we gossip, we talk about deep stuff. We can't do that with him here," she acknowledged, motioning to Miguel in the corner, who seemed very focused on solving a long ass math problem.

You couldn't help but look over at him as well, taking in the sight of his heavy breathing and faintly red cheeks, before looking back at your associates, who still wore expressions of confusion and discomfort. You huffed, giving them a fake pout. “Come on, Miguel won't utter a single word to anyone...

Now, would you?”

You asked, turning to look at the large Latino, his amber orbs covered with a pair of black eyeglasses as he remained silent, adamantly trying to avoid eye contact. You scowled, giving him a tight squeeze, followed by a deep stroke making him jolt. His eyes briefly rolled, his mouth stammering, trying to find his words. “No… I won't.” He said so low and deep you had to lean in to hear him.

You could visibly see him struggling, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he tried painstakingly to control his breathing. You grinned, watching him return to work on your math packet like a good little puppy. “See? He can be trusted.” You explained with a smile, continuing your tantalizing play on the nerd, which only made the Latino male suck in a breath and grip his pencil tighter.

You swore you thought the wooden tool would snap in two any second now…

“Fine, but what made you want to bring him of all people?” Peter asked next, turning your gaze onto him. “He holds no power at our Uni. He’s useless to us.” He said with a chuckle, running his fingers through his girlfriend's red hair. You chuckled at his belief that the four-eyed male was ‘useless’;

Currently, he was everything but…

“You know how much I wanted my own little assistant for some time.” You replied with a smirk, tracing Miguel under the table, feeling your fingers begin to become further coated in his essence. “As in someone who can fetch me things, do my work,

Satisfy my every need…”

You abruptly squeezed Miguel once more, a sudden audible groan passing his lips, gaining everyone's attention. Peter and MJ glanced over at Miguel with raised eyebrows before just brushing it off as the geek having one of his weird moments.

Subtly, you shot the dweeb a glare, making his ears redden and clear his throat. He flicked his pencil around in his thick fingers, beginning to erase a mistake he made due to your harsh grip before you turned back to your associates with a nonchalant smile.

“Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.

“It does…doesn't it?”

You whispered, glancing over at Miguel, who was trying not to acknowledge your gaze, seeming to be very interested in the ways of Calculus II.

“Aww… Peter, you know me so well.” You thought with a small grin, continuing to stroke the trembling male. You could feel the dweeb strain underneath his black jeans, enjoying how greatly he was trying to hide his pleasure. With your thumb, you brushed over his sensitive tip, making him whimper loudly, despite his effort to suppress it by biting his lip.

You shot him another stern look, slightly relieved to hear a groan of annoyance from MJ at the same time. At her outburst, it drew your attention over to her to see she was looking over at the workers in Mama's diner who were diligently working in the kitchen area of the diner. “Gosh, we've been sitting here for 20 minutes, and our order still isn't here.” She whined, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouty child in the grocery store.

“Come on, baby, it should be out in a little bit,” Peter whispered, trying to comfort her. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at her dramatics. MJ always did this to get attention, Peter’s attention in particular, who you’ve noticed was staring at you a lot more than usual upon entering Mama’s diner today.

You met MJ’s blue eyes, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Actually, why don't you two go check it out? See what's the hold-up?” You proposed, glancing over at Miguel to see his defined Adam's apple bob at your words, his nervousness only exciting you further.

Oblivious to your proposal and the fact that you, the queen, said it, Peter and MJ nodded and slid out of the booth. You watched in the corner of your eye as they walked away from your table and towards the front of the diner.

‘Now the fun can begin…’

You thought, a wicked grin spreading across your glossy lips. With them gone, you wanted nothing more than to have some fun with your new puppy. You turned in your seat to finally make eye contact with the panting male, and you couldn’t help but snicker at the sight.

The dweeb’s coffee-brown curls were plastered to his sweaty forehead, his amber orbs hooded behind his glasses while his grip on his pencil was slowly loosening. Breathy moans escaped his parted lips as his hips thrust softly into your hand, his eyes rolling with each of his movements.

Upon the two leaving the table, it seemed the nerd had completely dropped his facade, showing just how needy he was.

You laughed, glancing down to see the mess he was making in his black jeans. A small wet patch gradually soaked the zipper and crotch of the denim. “I knew you didn't finish in the library.” You teased, continuing to stroke him. He grunted, shifting in the booth to better angle himself into your clenched palm. “I couldn't…You interrupted me.” He replied hoarsely, making you raise an eyebrow. You abruptly gripped his cock at his response, making him whine.

“I interrupted you?”

You scoffed, not believing the balls on this nerd. “You have more mouth than I thought, Miguel O'Hara.” You hissed, releasing him and drawing down his pants, exposing his huge member fully. His hooded eyes instantly snapped open, deep pants passing his lips. “What are you—what are you doing? Someone could see.” He exclaimed through stammers, his amber eyes blown in a mixture of lust and worry as they looked all around in fear of someone being near.

You rolled your eyes at the nerd’s empty concerns. Your clique's favorite booth was positioned in the back of the diner, completely secluded. Of course, you’ll take precautions; you wouldn’t want someone to capture the sight of you having fun with a loser like him, so the idiot was fine.

Not that you cared at the moment...

“I honestly don't know what you're so worried about. You didn't seem concerned about someone seeing you when you were jerking off this morning.” You taunted, earning an angry growl from him, his cock twitching a little at that recollection. “Mierda, I didn't know anyone was there. The library is always empty in the mornings.” He said in a low voice, his tone rough and holding so much spite in it.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his anger, as if he could do anything about it. His massive body was stuck on the inside of your booth, his well-endowed cock and balls out on display.

He was completely vulnerable to you…

Your eyes trailed him, taking him in slowly, and to your surprise, you found yourself licking your lips at the sight.

Even though the dork was a lowly peasant at your school, carrying his stupid little textbooks and allowing the jocks to beat on him when he had the muscles and height to beat their asses ten-fold.

He had an impressive cock…

It was fully erect, sticking straight up into the air with a small patch of dark brown, coarse hair sitting atop his dark shaft, trailing an irresistible line up under his beige sweater. His cock was long, girthy, and definitely above average, with a brown, angry tip dripping with precum, begging to be tasted and played with.

During your moment of ogling, his large, veiny hand hastily covered the oddly magnificent sight, snapping you from your trance. You glared up at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, coffee-brown curls that hung over his framed eyes, and his attempt to cover his enormity between his legs with his hand.

“Move.” You sternly said, your tone showing just how annoyed and furious you were. You crossed your arms over your white-clad chest, awaiting the loser to obey, but surprisingly, he did no such thing. Miguel simply clenched his jaw, averted his gaze from you, not at all listening to the order you’ve just given him.

Your glossy lips pulled into a snarl, not remembering the last time someone would dare be defiant towards you, but it seemed this nerd, loner, whatever the hell he classified as, was something different…

He knew who you were, yet he was disobeying you, talking back, and worst of all…

Not submitting.

You’ve met many infuriating individuals, but he had to take the cake.

Your jaw clenched, trying to keep your composure and remind yourself that you needed him around because you were a hair's breadth from reaching into your bag and grabbing your phone to do the unthinkable. You cleared your throat, sliding so close to him that you could feel the heat of his bare, thick thighs against yours under the short, expensive pink skirt you adorned.

You brushed a strand of his coffee-brown hair behind his ear, noticing how he flinched slightly before leaning in close.

“Move your hand, or I'll make sure to send that little video of you jerking off to MJ. I think she’ll enjoy posting that onto her little blog for the whole college to see.”

You whispered into his ear, the threat striking the nerd greatly. A wave of satisfaction rushed through your being when he turned to face you, his amber eyes narrowed in rage, but a hint of fear evident in them as well. “You wouldn't,” he said, calling your bluff in a rough, breathless voice which only made you laugh.

“You must really be living under a rock on campus if you think I’m bluffing,” you chuckled darkly as the nerd gulped. “Now…” you began, glancing down at his shielded hand over what you desired. “Unless you want the entire college to know how much of a needy little puppy you are, you will move your damn hand and allow me to do whatever I please.” You sternly said, looking down at his trembling hand and then up at him.

You found it utterly adorable how he tried to keep your hardened gaze, but he would learn that when you want something, you’ll get it no matter what.

He cursed softly, running a frustrated hand through his messy coffee-brown curls. He captured his bottom lip in his teeth and reluctantly moved his hands, placing them on either side of him on the booth’s cushions. You smirked at his obedience. “Good boy,” you praised in a teasing voice, patting his head like the doggy he was; however, he yanked away. You scoffed at his defiance.

‘It seems my puppy needs more training. No worries; he’ll submit if he likes it or not.’

You thought, casting your eyes down to meet his painfully hard and erect cock. Biting your lip, you wrapped a hand around his base, feeling how brick and sticky it was in your palm.

But before granting your puppy the sweet release he desired, he had a lesson to learn…

You harshly gripped his shaft, earning a loud groan to escape his throat. “I'm very pissed at you. Want to know why?” You asked, squeezing his cock even more, making him hiss. He clutched the cushion of the booth in his large hands, clenching his jaw once more. “Why?” He said through gritted teeth.

"Why? You nearly got us caught with those outbursts, idiot," you spat, finding a rhythm and stroking him roughly under the table. His abundant precum allowed you to smoothly run your fist along him. He groaned, his head falling back against the booth.

"Maybe... you should f-fucking stop then," he said through pants, which only made you giggle. "Oh, I'm just finishing what you started in the library, puppy," you said with a fake pout.

"And here I thought you liked getting off in public places."

Miguel moaned softly at your words, his cock twitching in your hand in response. You raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh? Don't tell me that's the truth," you teased with a soft chuckle, knowing you'll surely have some fun with that hidden kink of his in the future.

However, no response was heard from him, defending nor agreeing with your proposal; only the occasional low moans and groans escaped his lips. You snarled, pressing your thumb into the crown of his tip, eliciting a rewarding jolt and a Spanish curse to fall from his lips.

"If you won't respond to that, then answer this," you hissed, nose scrunched up in disgust as you continued your stroking. "You act all big and tough when you're alone with me, yet you curl up into a little ball when others are around," you stated with a smirk. "Why is that?"

"Because you don't fucking scare me," he said angrily with a steady voice. You scoffed in amusement, your eyes roaming over his bulging muscles through the sleeves of his beige sweater—the fabric appearing strained. "And others do?" you retorted with a snicker, causing him to growl in annoyance and look away. "It's not like that."

"Oh yeah, then what is it?" you inquired, purposely quickening your pace on his shaft, stroking him faster and pressing your palm into his length, the desire to see him lose control driving you. He whined and whimpered uncontrollably, his large hand landing on your thigh, gripping it tightly through your skirt, urging you to slow down.

You sighed heavily; Miguel was so frustrating. The dweeb's mouth constantly spoke of defiance and disrespect, while his body contradicted him each time—his hips steadily moved in sync with your palm, and his member twitched in your hand. It seemed even he was confused about what he wanted, but being the sweet master you were, you'd assist him in discovering his true desires.

But first, he had to be taught to fix his attitude because he was really pissing you off.

You brushed the pad of your thumb over his tip, intensifying his pleasure with every jerk of your hand. "I don't like your attitude with me," you said angrily, smacking his hand off your thigh and grabbing his chin.

You roughly turned him to look at you, his eyes dazed behind his black glasses, and his lips parted. "I hold the power of your entire reputation in my hands. I can get your big ass kicked out of this damn college just by showing the dean that video of you," you warned, looking at his face in complete rage.

"Do you fucking understand me!?" you exclaimed, your nails piercing into the underside of his chin. Your eyes glared daggers at him as you continued to slide your hand up and down his trembling shaft.

He clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as his hand landed on your wrist, deep groans continuing to pass his lips at your movement. "Y-yes, fuck," he moaned, biting his lip. "Yes to what?" you demanded, seeking clarity. With your thumb, you caressed in small circles around the crown of his tip, a smirk spreading across your glossy lips when his grip on your wrist tightened. "Yes, I-I... understand," he said, his deep voice sounding rather airy and breathless.

"Good boy," you whispered, tilting your head at him and glancing down to see more pre-cum sprouting from his tip, dripping down his shaft and coating your hand. Miguel growled. "What do you even want from me?" he asked through trembles of pleasure, his cock twitching in your fist. Your smirk broadened, turning your attention from his cock to the four-eyed male, his chin still resting between your manicured fingers.

"You heard that conversation between Peter, MJ, and me, did you not?" you inquired with a raised eyebrow, making him heave a trembling sigh. "Lapdog, right? That's what you want?"

"Indeed," you chuckled, releasing him. He whimpered, his thighs quivering, as heavy pants passed his lips. He rubbed his chin, pressing his backside into the leather cushions and breathing heavily. You reached over him, grabbing a few napkins from its container to clean your hands, feeling Miguel's eyes on you all the while.

When you met his gaze, you weren't surprised to see the sight of anger and irritation, but what did surprise you was the hint of curiosity found in his intense gaze.

'Was the dork interested in being your puppy?'

"Why?" he finally asked after catching his breath. You laughed, turning to him with a wicked grin. "The better question is...

Why not?"

You replied with a snicker. Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed once more. "And you want me to be your damn lapdog?" he asked, full of spite and rage, his amber eyes appeared redder than usual, but it didn't faze you. "Yes, or that video goes out to everyone," you said with a grin, your eyes lingering along his body. "And I think everyone would be rather shocked to see what you've been hiding under all that ugly clothing," you chuckled, motioning down at his massive and still very hard cock.

He snarled, looking away from you and out the window beside him. A silence fell upon the two of you as you simply took him in—his defined cheekbones, broad nose, thick neck, and massive body covered in a hideous beige sweater, black jeans, and white Converse.

'Goodness, this is going to be fun. The most fun I've probably had in years.'

You thought, faking a pout and leaning towards him to press your plush lips against his ear. He jumped slightly at your closeness, making you giggle as you ran a hand over his chest, tracing his defined pecs and abs through his sweater.

"Come on, puppy. Don't be so mad; you might even enjoy it."

You teased, and to your anticipation, his cock throbbed in response. He groaned lowly, your chest covered in a white crop top pressing into his arm. "It’s not like I have a damn choice," he retorted, his voice still resonating with fury.

"Well… get used to it."

You uttered, licking a stripe across his sharp jawline and enjoying how he shuddered at the feeling. You then pulled away, his amber eyes following you like the needy puppy he was.

"Now, every doggy needs a collar," you uttered with a smile, causing him to scowl. "I’m not wearing a damn collar."

"So quick to assume, puppy," you laughed, only seeming to enrage the geek even more. "Stop calling me that," he growled, causing you to sigh, finding it rather annoying how he still believed he held some type of control here.

He'll learn sooner or later.

"You’ll grow to love it, puppy," you emphasized, turning from his faltering glare to rummage in your $500 Prada bag, fishing out a toy you purchased just for your little doggy. When you acquired it, you turned to him, twirling the dark blue and red crystallized ring in your fingers. Miguel's eyes followed it, his chest heaving in confusion and disdain, but his cock pulsated in desire and curiosity.

He could scowl and glare at you all he wanted, but his body gave him away, every single time.

“What the fuck is that?” He snapped, once he regained his composure, his amber eyes looking from the ring to you through his black eyeglasses. You chuckled, running your fingers along the ring. “After our little run-in at the library this morning, I bought my new puppy something special.” You explained, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. The geek looked perplexed for the first time.

It was a cute look on him…

“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be fun. I promise...” You giggled, glancing down at his dark cock, still twitching in desire. You then held your hand out to him, the large ring resting in your palm.

“Now…show me how much of a good doggy you can be and put this on…”

“Ugh, they are saying it's another 20 minutes.” MJ groaned, climbing into the booth right after Peter. You heaved a sigh in irritation; Mama's diner was never this backed up. It was rather annoying to think you all would have to wait just for three measly milkshakes.

“So, what’s the two of you been doing? He looks like he’s about to fucking faint.” Peter joked, glancing over at Miguel, whose bronze face was covered in beads of sweat. His amber eyes trained on the packet of math work once more. You chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know. The math problem must be stressing him out.” You said with a smile, subtly glancing over at your phone that rested beside you on the booth, the vibrator app pulled up on the screen that was already at level 2.

The ring that you had bought for your new puppy was nestled around the base of his cock, right over his balls, stimulating both of his sensitive areas. You gave him the benefit of the doubt to cover himself; you weren’t a total meanie.

You just needed him to know his place, as it seemed he kept forgetting.

So you decided to seat him in front of two of the most popular students at your college with a pulsating vibrator around his cock.

What better way for him to learn...?

"Okay…" MJ trailed off, brushing off the situation as nothing. "Umm, what even is his name?" She asked, talking about Miguel as if he wasn't even there. At her inquiry, you turned to your puppy, giving him a soft pat on the head. "Tell her your name," you said sweetly, noticing the subtle glare from him. "Miguel," he responded in a gruff voice without looking up from the packet.

"Your full name," you added with a smirk, wishing to further annoy him. The dweeb’s jaw clenched at your persistence. "Miguel O’Hara," he growled, hastily returning to solving question 24 of your math packet. MJ looked between the two of you, taking in the interaction before leaning across the table, her blue eyes set on you.

“Seriously, what are you up to with him?”

She asked in a hushed tone like no one at the table could hear her as her red eyebrows furrowed in concern. You scoffed, not believing that she would dare to ask you such a thing.

“Why the hell are you questioning anything that I do?” You spat angrily. “The fucking dweeb is just doing my damn homework,” you said, your eyes glaring into hers.

Perhaps, the load of hair upon MJ's head was the cause of her forgetfulness. Regardless of the culprit, the redhead better keep in mind how much you love fixing her mistakes and kicking her back into line if she oversteps.

You've done it to so many others, she'll be no different…

“Hey, hey, settle down,” Peter said, trying to calm the situation between the two of you. The tension in the air was so thick, it could be sliced with a spoon, let alone a knife.

“There's nothing wrong with what Y/N is doing,” Peter said, placing a hand on MJ’s shoulder and pulling her back towards his chest. MJ sighed, giving you an apologetic look. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” You rolled your eyes, dismissing her as you met Peter’s eyes that also looked between Miguel and you. “Although, I must say…” He began, and to your surprise, settled his amber eyes onto Miguel.

You smirked, loving to see how the aroused geek would handle this, your eyes trained on him. Miguel, noticing the lack of conversation, hesitantly looked up to be met with six eyes staring back at him.

“How the hell are you so…massive?” Peter asked with a chuckle. “You don’t do shit except read, play chess, or whatever else you nerds do.” Peter jested, causing everyone, except Miguel, to laugh. Your eyes were trained on Miguel as he glanced over at you and back at Peter before clearing his throat. “Genetics.” He mumbled, returning back to writing out the parametric formula to solve the equations he was on.

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, the introverted male’s words not seeming to have reached his ears. “What did you say? Speak up, man.” He laughed, causing Miguel to clench his jaw once more. His pencil halted upon the paper as he casted his amber eyes up to the jock. “Genetics. That's all it is.” He repeated in a louder tone.

“So, you are telling me, you do not work out?” MJ asked in surprise and awe, her blue eyes roaming over his body. You were certain she was checking your new puppy out.

You growled, oddly, shooting a glare at her.

You didn’t know what was with her today, but MJ was working your last nerve.

MJ, thankfully, shut up after your look, but your puppy answered anyway. “A little,” he replied, twirling the pencil in his thick fingers nervously. You couldn’t help but gaze at him—his massive musculature snug under his beige sweater that seemed to hug him in all the right places.

His biceps bulging, his hardened pecs defined, and you could even sneak a peek at his abdominal muscles pressing against the warm fabric. You bit your lip, the desire to get him out of that ugly sweater filling your being until you shook off the thought.

The damn dweeb was making you forget your title and your reputation…

But you couldn’t lie.

The geek was exceeding your expectations…

Not only was he impressive for being at the very bottom of the student hierarchy and having the ability to make you feel all hot and bothered, but despite his cock being heavily stimulated by the vibrating ring, his voice didn't waver or falter.

Your puppy was tougher than you thought…

‘We’ll see about that.’

With a click of your phone, you raised the vibrations from a mere 2 to a 5. Instantly at the change, Miguel jolted in his seat. You watched with a look of pure innocence on your face as Peter’s eyebrows furrowed.

He snickered, eyeing the glasses-wearing male across from him at the table. “Man, you are weird as heck, but I’ll let it slide,” he said with a smile, glancing over at you, his eyes full of admiration. “If the queen here can put up with your presence, which is rare,” Peter snickered, “I’ll be willing to open a spot on the team to see how you do,” he proposed, which shocked you.

It was hard to get on Peter’s football team, yet he was practically giving it to Miguel, the most disliked male at school, on a silver platter.

You couldn’t help but feel a little angry at that, slowly becoming a bit possessive over your new puppy.

But thankfully, Miguel said the words for you. “I-I’m not interested,” he uttered, clearing his throat and clenching the pencil tightly in his large hand. You smirked, watching Peter’s eyebrows rise in shock. He glanced over at MJ, who had become quiet after your glare.

“This dude is really turning down my offer, babe,” he said, nudging MJ, who snapped out of her trance to turn her blue eyes onto Miguel. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Actually…” you said, instantly drawing their eyes on you. “It’s better if he didn’t. I’ll lose my new lapdog, and we wouldn’t want that… Isn’t that right?” You asked, running your manicured fingers through Miguel’s coffee-brown hair. You watched his jaw clench and a subtle blush spread across his lips.

Seems as if he's starting to like the name or you claiming him…

Indeed, Miguel was a naughty one…

Peter’s stunned expression instantly changed at your words. He cleared his throat, giving you a nod. “Of course, but the offer still stands,” he offered once more, looking over at you as he said it.

You gave him a small smile before MJ sat up in her chair with a grin, the color restoring back into her being after you rightfully snuffed it out. “Since the workers are taking so long, let’s play a game. Never Have I Ever, anyone?!” she exclaimed, a smile adorning her cherry lips.

You grinned, liking the idea, before a thought came to your head, causing you to heave a sigh. “Normally drinks are involved. We don’t have any,” you commented, instantly MJ reached into the pocket of Peter’s red and blue varsity jacket, pulling out his metal flask. His eyes widened in shock before he laughed, shaking his head. “Damn, I thought you didn’t know about that.”

“I know everything, baby.” MJ giggled, placing the metal flask in the center of the table. You smirked, glancing over at Miguel, who had his arms crossed upon the table, his head lowered over the math packet. He was panting, and his thighs were trembling next to your own. He wasn’t writing anything as he seemed like he was just sitting there.

But you knew what your needy puppy was up to…

He was enjoying himself, relishing in the sensation from the vibrator ring you had bought him. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

While Peter and MJ discussed the rules of the game, you leaned in close to Miguel, pressing your glossy lips against his ear. “Are you enjoying your little toy, puppy?” you inquired, causing him to suck in a breath. “Ay cono, turn it off,” he panted, whispering to you in desperation. He turned his hooded eyes onto you, and you met his gaze with a sly grin. “Why? You like it,” you whispered back with a small giggle, watching his ears redden and a vein bulge from his forehead as he tried to suppress his anger.

“So no, it’s not coming off anytime soon,” you told him. “Now, you'll play this game with us and finish my work later.”

“I don’t want to fucking play,” he growled, making your forced smile falter. You subtly reached over to your phone, turning the vibrations up from level 5 to 7. Miguel's voice caught in his throat, his hand landing on your thigh once more. You could even faintly hear the buzzing in his jeans that was slowly making the geek lose his composure.

His large palm covered your smooth skin as he gripped it tightly while he quivered. He cursed under his breath, beginning to softly pat your thigh to call a truce. You watched him with a smirk, loving how he was writhing and squirming in his seat, knowing you were the sole cause of it. “I-I’ll play,” he whined, lowering his head to hide, his amber eyes on you over his arm. You smiled, lowering it back to a mere 5.

‘Don’t piss me off,’ you mouthed, turning back to Peter and MJ to find they were, thankfully, still talking.

You didn’t want to hear what any of them had to say when it came to Miguel and you, especially from MJ.

“The dweeb is going to play too,” you said, hastily gaining everyone’s attention. “Awesome, do you want to go around as ages? Whoever is the youngest goes first?” MJ suggested. “I think the oldest should go first,” you said with a wicked grin, knowing everyone would choose the latter since you, the queen bee, said so.

If your intuition was correct, which it always was, you sensed Miguel was older than the rest of you. His demeanor and rough look showed his maturity, and you couldn’t help but become a little aroused at the assumption.

“Fine. I’m 23,” MJ said, glancing over at Peter next. “25,” he replied, soon looking at you. “24,” you smiled before finally setting your eyes on the trembling male. His amber eyes shifted from all of your eager gazes. He cleared his throat, tanned cheeks a soft red. “26.” His voice, like usual, was deep and rather low, but you heard his answer loud and clear.

You were right...

The muscular geek was not only a disobedient lowlife, but he was older than you. ‘How fun?’ you thought, looking him up and down beside you. It made everything even sweeter.

“Well, you go first,” Peter said, motioning to Miguel with his head, his dark brown hair swaying with his slight movement. The dweeb gulped, merely sitting there for a while. It was for so long that you pondered if he had even played the common game before until he finally spoke.

“Never have I ever fallen asleep during a movie,” he muttered, keeping his gaze on the table.

'Of course, a boring one, like I thought.’ You groaned, nudging his arm. “Come on, that shit blows,” you said with an eye roll. “We want something steamy, hot…” You whispered, reaching over to caress his thigh under the table. He gulped, clenching his jaw and landing his large, calloused hand on yours to cease your movement. “Fine…” he said, turning to look at you in particular.

“Never have I ever walked in on someone without knocking.”

Miguel asked with a sly grin that surprised you greatly, and left you angry as hell. You growled, hearing Peter and MJ begin to discuss their answers. “Gosh, I walked in on one of the guys with their girlfriends in the locker room,” Peter sighed as MJ didn’t have an unfortunate occurrence happen to her, but not like you cared about either of them at the moment.

You glared at Miguel, his taunting smirk and stupid glasses adorning his face, the desire to slap them both off overwhelming your being.

You turned to see Peter already taking a swig of the metal flask, a grimace on his face after the drink. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have chosen the strong stuff,” he commented, glancing up at you. “Now, what about the Queen bee? Walked in on one of those baddies at your sorority house?” He inquired with a chuckle. You looked over at Miguel, his eyes narrowing as he watched you take the flask, gulping down a large mouthful of the liquor.

As Peter said, the shit was strong, and it took everything in you not to cough, suppressing the urge by clearing your throat. “No…” You replied, placing the flask back on the table and subtly looking over at Miguel before meeting your two associates' curious gazes. “Then what happened then?” MJ asked, deeply intrigued.

“Well, I walked in on someone jerking off.”

You noticed beside you, Miguel’s entire body became rigid on the booth; his hand squeezed yours under the table in a rather desperate way. He was begging you with the slight touch to cease any further words.

How cute…

You smirked at the feeling, loving how you had the dweeb filled with anxiety and nervousness about whether you'll spill his deep secret or not.

But you're only a bitch when you want to be…

“That’s all you get, though.” You laughed, causing cries of frustration to erupt, although you didn’t miss the sigh of relief that passed Miguel’s lips even though he was the one who called your bluff and dug his own grave.

“First round, and it seems Queen Bee and I are tied on who’s paying for our order.” Peter laughed, causing you to roll your eyes. “If it ever gets here,” MJ added with a groan.

“Even more of a reason to continue playing,” Peter said with a smirk. “But it seems as if it’s my turn, being 25 and all.” He said, sitting back against the cushions of the booth, humming in thought. “Ah, got one.” He commented with a grin.

“Never had I ever used a mirror during romantic intercourse.” He asked, his amber eyes looking around the table.

Of course, being the fun queen bee you were, you took the flask. “I mean, if you haven’t, you are missing out.” You grinned, taking another swig of the strong liquor, feeling the satisfying sting in the back of your throat when you placed the container back on the table. You could feel the heat radiating from Miguel’s body at the mention of you doing something so naughty.

You wouldn’t mind doing something like that with him only when he was ready…

A small blush spread across MJ’s cheeks at the erotic question. “I’ve always wanted to do it.” She said, bringing a smile to Peter's lips. He snaked an arm around her, caressing her arm as he spoke in a sultry and seductive voice. “Oh really? We can always try it after-

“Oh my gosh. Get a fucking room already.” You interrupted with a snicker, eyeing the two lovebirds. “Okay, okay,” MJ said with a giggle, eyes turning to Miguel who hastily dismissed it with a head shake.

Of course, the fucking dweeb doesn’t know how to have fun.

With you, he’ll know nothing else; you’ll make sure of it.

“Well, it’s your turn now,” MJ smiled. Finally, it was your turn, instantly thinking of a proposition that could really reveal some deep secrets about Miguel.

Something he's been hiding…

You sat back in your seat, pondering your answer when your eyes met Miguel. Just the sight of the massive male was making your brain sprout with ideas. Who knew how helpful he could be with just his mere presence?

Why not reward him for the assistance?

Subtly, you sat up, turning the vibrations up to a 7 while starting your round.

“Never have I ever had a sexual encounter in a public place and secretly liked it.”

You proposed, glancing over at Miguel, who was losing it. He gritted his teeth, lowering his head to try to hide his fluttering eyes and heavy pants, but your associates’ words surprised you. “Gosh, both of us,” you heard them say, drawing your attention from your puppy.

“Yeah, we did a vibrator challenge on each other, and we went to a mall,” Peter said with a smile and a head shake. “It wasn’t enjoyable with the many people around at the sudden bursts of pleasure, but overall…it was fun,” MJ added, snuggling into Peter’s chest.

You slowly nodded, retaining the idea for further use and glancing back at Miguel, who was shaking. You felt his hand on your thigh once more and soon his soft pats, as if he was a wrestler trying to tap out of the ring.

But you weren’t a merciful referee; he could endure it a little longer…

You leaned in close to him, pretending to reach down to pick up the pencil that had accidentally rolled off the table due to his squirming. “Lift your head and play the damn game,” you spat harshly into his ear as he frantically shook his head. “Fuck, I-I can’t,” he whined breathlessly. “Mierda, I’m close. I-I can’t,” he repeated, only making you smirk.

“Be a good puppy, hold it, and play the game, or I’ll raise it to the highest level,” you told him sternly, your fingers finding the pencil in the leather cushions. You soon rose, a smile on your lips as you placed the wooden tool onto the table. “Miguel, how about you?” you inquired in a sweet voice, the lovebirds finishing their swigs of the flask. “Done anything fun in public and secretly enjoyed it?” you asked, curious about how he'd answer and respond.

Like a good doggy, he lifted his head as you commanded. His dark, hazy eyes looked between the three of you before simply reaching over and taking a swig of the flask.

“Fucking hell!? The nerd knows fun!” Peter commented with a laugh, while the rest of you looked on in astonishment. Miguel placed the flask down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Explain,” you urged, nudging him with a kick under the table. He jolted, shooting you a subtle glare, causing you to raise an eyebrow, reaching over for your phone when Miguel gave you a gentle squeeze of desperation. “Okay…” he began, exhaling and trying to regain his composure while holding back his release and being heavily stimulated.

“I was getting a-a handjob under the table…i-in a diner similar to this,” he said, making you smile, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “T-The girl was fucking rude and mean, but h-had skilled hands. Very skilled hands.” He gulped, avoiding your eyes while he spoke. “But t-that’s pretty much it. I liked it...Who wouldn't," Miguel said, looking down at his lap and leaving the table speechless.

You didn’t know whether to be flattered, angry at his description of you, or apathetic. A burning desire in your gut to simply drag him to the bathroom of Mama’s diner and see just how good his cock would feel inside of you.

But overall, the geek had surprised you with his answer, this being the only time he had spoken his mind and said his true thoughts since he sat down at this fucking booth.

“Damn, sounds hot,” MJ said, making you turn your attention from your loyal puppy to her. “Wish I had the guts like that rude girl you described. I could never.” She said lowly, bringing a wave of pride over you. Her compliment only fueled your already replete ego.

After the steamy encounter that Miguel explained to the group, it was now MJ’s turn. However, just when she was about to speak, her phone pinged with a message. She glanced down at the glowing screen, her eyebrows instantly furrowing. “Oh my gosh, babe, we have to go. I’m needed at the university.” She quaked, turning her blue eyes upon you. “I’m so sorry to pause the game and leave so early.” She apologized, hastily standing up from the booth alongside her ride, and boyfriend, Peter.

“I can only assume it's for the newspaper, so I’ll let it slide,” you told her as she thanked you, swiftly scurrying past and exiting Mama’s diner. Peter watched with a chuckle, tucking his hands into his red varsity jacket, standing beside you at the table.

“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing you around, Queen Bee,” he smirked, suddenly taking your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles. You raised an eyebrow, a smile forming upon your glossy lips. Prior to pulling away, he held his soft lips upon your skin for a moment longer and gave your knuckles an affectionate caress with his thumb, meeting your eyes. “Call me anytime.” He whispered, giving you his signature charming smile and wink that made every person on campus faint and die on the spot before leaving behind his girlfriend.

You couldn’t lie; you were a little shocked at Peter’s forwardness.

You’ve noticed his interest in the great Queen Bee—who isn’t—but he had a girlfriend, and unfortunately for him…

You don’t like to share…

Many whiny groans and the sound of loud buzzing brought you from your thoughts as you turned to look at Miguel in the corner to see something even more astonishing than Peter’s previous advances.

Miguel was panting, breathing heavily with his head pressed against the back of the leather booth. His black denims were drawn down, revealing his strained cock and the beautiful red and blue vibrator ring around his base. His eyes rolled uncontrollably behind his glasses, his mouth agape while he rambled in a blend of Spanish and English.

You could only make out the English phrases and words he uttered, which mostly were pleas and begs, all desiring one thing and one thing only.

“Please—ay cono. Let me cum. Please, let me cum."

He implored incessantly, his words so full of need and desperation. You could tell he was slowly losing it; the pleasure was blinding him, and he was only at level 7. You were hoping to try the highest level on him, but maybe another time…

You didn’t want to completely ruin your new puppy…

You leaned towards him, running a finger over his sticky tip, tracing patterns across it. He whined and squirmed in his seat at your touch. “Aww, you want to stop playing already? I wanted to try level 10.” You told him with a fake pout. He frantically shook his head, gasps of air passing his parted lips. “Goodness, no. Please, I-I can’t take any more.” He begged so perfectly that you almost allowed him to.

Well,

Almost…

“I’ll let you cum on one condition,” you proposed, taking his chin in your fingers and turning him to meet your eyes. His eyes fluttered, his hands found your wrist, grabbing on tightly to stabilize himself. His face was flushed, his defined cheeks a rosy red, and his forehead covered with beads of sweat. He looked adorable, practically begging you with his hooded doe eyes to allow him to cum. You smirked, caressing his chin.

“Tell me you are my little puppy and sweeten the deal with a cute little bark.”

You giggled, eliciting a growl that came out more like a groan. “A-Are you serious?” he panted, making your smile only broaden. “Very, and I’ll only raise the level of the vibrator if you don’t,” you said with a grin, loving the look of defeat that covered his face. “Shit,” he cursed, looking away.

“No, eyes on me.”

You sternly said, hastily yanking his chin back towards you. He clenched his jaw, making eye contact with you once more. His amber orbs were full of anger, but his desire to be relieved of the vibrator and finally be granted his satisfying release led him to speak what you wanted.

“I-I’m your… l-little…

Puppy.”

He uttered reluctantly through shaky moans as you waited patiently for the best part of his whole confession. He growled, shaking his head. “I’m not barking.”

You huffed, giving him a stern look. “Do I have to threaten you again about that video? How about I take that little vibrator and give it to the dean instead?” you said with an evil grin. “It has your… essence all over it. Wouldn’t be hard to discover it’s yours.” You cackled. He scowled, gazing up at you through breathy moans. “You are s-such a bitch.”

“Are you sure? You are looking more like a bitch than me right now,” you spat with a laugh, piercing your nails into his chin. “Now be my good little puppy and bark.” You demanded once more, eyes trained on his furious and flushed face.

You watched Miguel resist you as hard as he could. He put up such a fight, remaining silent to disobey for a good while, but just like any wild dog, they break, they snap...

They submit.

So, it didn’t take long before the most satisfying sounds filled your ears.

“Woof…Woof.”

A wave of satisfaction overcame you, akin to taking a refreshing sip of a chocolate milkshake on a hot day. Your glossy lips pulled into a smile, feeling completely overjoyed as you stared at your official new lapdog. “Gosh, I’m going to have so much fun with you,” you promised, caressing his chin affectionately. Miguel’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and his entire face turned red; even his cock frantically throbbed around the pulsating ring.

Like a dog wagging his tail, he seemed to like that idea very much...

You wrapped a hand around his shaft, stroking him at a fast pace while the ring continued to buzz against him. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” you whispered. “Make me proud, puppy,” you told him, kissing along his jawline and earning a loud groan to erupt from his throat. His hips left the seat, meeting your fist with each thrust upwards. “Oh yes. Fuck,” he cried through closed eyes.

The leather booth began to creak loudly at his frenzied movement, his cock sliding in and out of your palm, completely slick with his precum. You could feel how powerful the vibrations were on his sensitive shaft whilst he continued to fuck your fist.

“Shit, shit, I’m cumming,” he groaned, before a loud guttural, deep moan erupted from deep within his chest, his thick, muscular thighs quivering. Veins bulge along the underside of his abdomen upon his climax, and with one final thrust into your hand, he shot his white, creamy load.

And the four-eyed male just kept impressing you over and over again.

His release seemed to be endless. More and more of his seed dripped from his slit, coating your hand and the buzzing toy. The vibrating ring and your fisting only seemed to milk him completely, causing him to whimper and whine uncontrollably, continuing to paint his shaft, your hand, his beige sweater, and the leather seats in his essence.

When he was finished, you took in the huge mess he’d made with a grin. “Look at what you’ve done,” you purred, grabbing a few napkins to clean your hands. Miguel didn’t respond, only babbling softly, his words unintelligible.

You laughed at his thoroughly satisfied expression, finding it utterly adorable how fucked-out he looked. You relieved him of the vibrator, turning it off and removing it from his swollen shaft, the toy completely coated with his sticky fluids.

You smirked, eyeing the white-coated ring; it was so enticing that you couldn't help but bring the toy to your mouth to give it a taste. Like savoring the sweetness of honey on a wand, you ran your tongue along the vobrator, humming in ecstasy.

Your eyes fluttered at the taste. His seed was different—something you couldn't quite put into words, but an essence you'd definitely want more of in the future, something you had to taste straight from the source.

After sucking the ring clean, you placed it into your bag and slid closer to Miguel. His eyes were still closed, his chest heaving up and down while his body spasmed—small tremors spreading through his massive being.

You turned his face towards you, a finger resting under his chin. His eyes fluttered open to meet your satisfied gaze. “I’m happy you enjoyed yourself, puppy,” you whispered, an airy chuckle passing his lips at your words. “I had no choice…

So I might as well enjoy it,”

He muttered breathlessly, his response made you even prouder. Your little puppy was understanding the game—the fun. You couldn’t help but love the dork even more.

You leaned closer to him, your nose brushing against his.

“Finally… you are starting to get it,” you uttered, pressing a rough and searing kiss to his mouth. Miguel, completely exhausted and shocked, instantly lost the fight, giving you control.

You devoured his mouth hungrily, his plush lips feeling just right and tasting even better as your tongue entered his parted lips. He groaned, kissing you back, but not enough to dominate nor challenge you, which you adored so much.

You kissed him until you were satisfied, sucking his lips until they were pink and swollen, and tasting his mouth with your tongue. You then pulled away from his enticing lips, both of you panting heavily. You looked him over with a smirk, patting his head and running your manicured fingers through his coffee-brown hair, and to your satisfaction, he didn’t pull away—either from weariness or pure enjoyment, it seemed your puppy had accepted his role.

But you couldn’t be so sure…

You smiled, sliding out of the booth and picking up your $500 Prada bag from the seat. His amber eyes were full of confusion as he looked you over. You met your adorable lapdog’s gaze, standing before him in your lavish clothes—a white crop top, pink Gucci jacket, skirt, and heels.

You gave him a sly grin, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Clean yourself up and have my homework done by 10.

I want you at my sorority house tonight,”

You smirked, watching his tanned cheeks turn a deep red. Your eyes took him in one last time, taking in his little mess, his flustered and stunned expression, softened cock, massive body, and those dorky glasses.

All of that and so much more was yours now.

All yours…

“See you then,” you giggled, blowing him a kiss, and turning on your pink high heels, leaving the dork flabbergasted.

You swung open the door of Mama’s diner, stepping out onto the sidewalk and into the bustling streets of Nueva York. You put on your pink heart-shaped shades, the evening sun beaming upon your face, as an unshakeable smile adorned your glossy lips.

You were excited, no, delighted.

You had discovered something better than a measly assistant that you had desired before.

You had a permanent peasant, a puppy who was none other than the outcast of your college—the student at the bottom of the student hierarchy and hated by all was officially yours.

And you couldn’t wait to have so much more fun with your little bitch boy, Miguel O’Hara.

Your new lapdog...

A/N: I enjoyed writing this soo much!! 😆

I hope u guys enjoyed it as well, I'm thinking of writing a Part 2 but...idk 🤔😏

But hope u guys liked!! 💗💗

P.S: Part 3 of 'A Fate Worse Than Death' would be up next week, my apologies, I just had to write this one. 😌

<3 Taglist:

~@oscarissac2099

~@powerful-niya

(Let me know in the comments if you'll like to become a part of the taglist! ❤️)

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel atsv smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #nerd miguel #sub miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader

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starsworldd · 1 year

Text

𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚝:

these are my interpretations, only take what resonates

moon in 1st house ⚡️: this could mean that you are highly sentimental and likely to fluctuate a lot this year. matters at home, with family, your comfort, are a top priority this year. depending on the moon sign, you will be much more caring and compassionate in that signs' matters (e.g. in leo, you may be comforted or more caring for kids or hobbies, in libra more caring/comforted in your partnerships, etc..). new beginnings. be careful not to take things too personally!

moon in 2nd house 🥖: this indicates a year in which you care a lot about your personal comfort. you may be stubborn as to take risks or to go outside of your comfort zone that year, especially regarding your finances but it doesn't have to necessarily relate to tangible things. you are much more in tune with your needs. fluctuations and/or improvements with your self-esteem may be on the table as well.

moon in 3rd house ☀️: communication, writing, and other forms of mental output are significant to you this year. conversations with others this year may be characterized by depth and nostalgia. you may also be talking to your relatives a lot this year. this placement could indicate finding more comfort in video games or social media. the moon sign indicates how conversing with others impact your emotions this year (e.g. libra: pleasant, kind, harmonic or cancer: understood, compassionate, and empathetic)

moon in 4th house 🎀: this placement means that you find peace and satisfaction at home. matters with family or home may be especially emphasized this year, maybe you're staying at home more than usual? this could indicate moving or something major happening within the family or house. if not those things, you may find that you are much more understanding and welcoming to others. maybe some home decorating may be happening too, hehe.

moon in 5th house 🌻: expressing your authentic self this year matters a lot to you. you care a lot about your hobbies and creativity this year and are much more fertile in those areas. there could be a lot fo crushes or ups and downs with romance as well. you may want much more attention from others. fluctuations with your ego are very possible and expressing your feelings in a dramatic way is also pretty likely.

moon in 6th house 💛: you care a lot about productivity and working on yourself this year (mostly when it comes to duties and work). self-improvements like fitness may be a priority too. you are prone to overworking yourself and/or to illness. emotional up and downs may seem to be an everyday thing for you this year. the moon sign shows how everyday routines will impact you (e.g. in libra relationships in everyday routines will be highlighted, in aries leadership and autonomy up will be highlighted, etc..)

moon in 7th house 🌺: you pour much of your compassion into your partnerships this year. you want to build relationships this year with sentimentality and care. it is especially important to you this year that other people reciprocate and understand you on an emotional level and it's important that you are with others this year, more than any other year you probably don't want to be alone for this one. you may be spending a lot more time with women too.

moon in 8th house 👻: unpopular interpretation but i personally think this placement could indicate moving homes, or a big change in the family but these changes usually may come with some sort of loss. you may find yourself exploring the emotional depths and traumas of the present or past more than usual. transformations internally will likely lead to a different way as to how you go about feeling your emotions going forward as well.

moon in 9th house ❤️‍🔥: adventure, philosophy, and/or traveling are things that may help you to feel internally satisfied this year. i think this placement could also indicated going away for college, university, or studying abroad. you may find that you're more comfortable to opening up your mind to philosophy and morals and in general breaking out of your usual comforts or habits. moon sign shows how exploration/adventure may show up for you that year

moon in 10th house ⭐️: you may find a boost in popularity this year, unless the moon is majorly ill-aspected or debilitated. but even so, there can be positive outcomes. you are emotionally in tune with your reputation, career/calling, and/or responsibilities this year. you may be less afraid to display your true emotions to the public eye. there may be a lot more responsibility in your domestic sphere or somehow your private/family life is exposed to others.

moon in 11th house 🥳: in your social circles there may be more women than usual. you are emotionally in tune with goals, inspirations, even social media and trends this year. internal satisfaction and comfort comes from your friends and communities this year. you may be inviting more people to your house this year, or having more parties. nurturing and helping your friends and other communities solve their conflicts may be something that keeps you happy.

moon in 12th house 🫧: you may be missing your mom or another important family figure in your life this year. maybe you feel like people aren't giving you much care or support as much as you need it. this is also another indicator for moving or going to faraway places this year. you may also feel like a hermit this year. there may be lots of fluctuations with mental health, but i think that this gives way for lots of creativity to come your way.

hope you enjoyed!

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whumpcember · 5 months

Text

Welcome back to Whumpcember!

Or if you're new, welcome!

This is the second ever Whumpcember event and I am happy to be running it again! I am so thankful for all the support for last year's Whumpcember and for everyone who filled out the prompt list form! I hope everyone has a wonderful writing Whumpcember, and now, onto the rules!

Prompts should be answered with whump as the main focus

Fanfic! Gif! Text post! Fanart! Fan video! Any piece of media that you can possibly make that has whump counts!

You can use the prompts any time! Don't feel the need to rush

Though, prompts answered during December will most likely be reblogged

Post anywhere! AO3, Wattapad, Tumblr, or even Fanfic.Net! So as long as you make a Tumblr post with a link to the answered prompt it may be reblogged.

When posting onto Tumblr you can either @ the blog or tag with #whumpcember2023 and the day's tag, such as #whumpcember2023 day1

Don't forget to add any warnings necessary, such as NSFW or sexual content

An AO3 Collection will go out on December 1 and close January 1, it's not mandatory, but if you want your works saved in a collection, make sure you get it in on time!

At the end of the month a masterpost will go out to all participants and a badge you can save stating that you are either a participant or completionist. In order to be on the masterpost though, you will have to fill out a google form at the end of month; don't worry it'll take two minutes!

If you have any more questions, send me an ask, but please read the FAQ first!

Written Prompt list below:

-Main Prompts-

Day 1: Fever

Day 2: Sickness

Day 3: Hypothermia

Day 4: Hidden Injury

Day 5: Impaled

Day 6: Nightmares

Day 7: Fainting

Day 8: Isolation

Day 9: Brainwashing

Day 10: Freezing

Day 11: Infection

Day 12: Touch Starved

Day 13: Restraints

Day 14: Cornered

Day 15: Hallucinating

Day 16: Head Injury

Day 17: Fire

Day 18: Chronic Pain

Day 19: Exhaustion

Day 20: Drugged

Day 21: Choking

Day 22: Seizures

Day 23: Nosebleed

Day 24: Bullet

Day 25: Coma

Day 26: Collapse

Day 27: Bleeding Out

Day 28: Abandoned

Day 29: Paralyzed

Day 30: Delirium

Day 31: Homeless

-Alts-

Alt 1. Stabbed

Alt 2. Forced to Watch

Alt 3. Drowning

Alt 4. Ice

Alt 5. Sacrifice

Alt 6. Concussion

Alt 7. Hunger

Alt 8. Tears

Alt 9. Begging

Alt 10. Abused

#whumpcember2023 #whumpcember2023 prompt list #whumpcember #whump #whump prompts #prompts #writing prompts

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sneakerdoodle · 3 months

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Hey all! I have compiled a small resource on the pressure targets identified by the BDS Movement

I have seen many calls for boycott of organic and organized consumer boycott targets (keep it up ✊🏻), but not a lot of conversation about what "pressure" might look like when it comes to pressure targets.

This carrd quotes the BDS Movement's official directions ("boycotts when reasonable alternatives exist, as well as lobbying, peaceful disruptions, and social media pressure") and compiles some fairly easy ways to follow them for folks like me, who are socially & geographically isolated and may struggle with finding accessible forms of engagement. As such, social media pressure is the main focus. The idea is as follows:

The background information blurb ("What you should know") helps you learn the brief timeline & details of the company's involvement and their response to public pressure so far;

The "Suggested actions" section introduces you to any existing campaigns or calls to action endorsed by the BDS, as well as direct links to the companies' socials, contact forms, and so on;

You are now enabled to publicly shame Google for their complicity in genocide and cite their failure to properly engage with their protesting employees, for example

I hope to receive some input directly from the BDS Movement organizers (should they have enough time and resource to entertain my inquiry), but as of now, this is based on my own interpretation of their guidelines. I welcome any and all feedback on what should be added, altered or removed. You may reach out right here on tumblr or via the email address listed on the carrd.

Please do share this around if this feels worthwhile, and I hope some may find this compilation helpful

#palestine #palestinian genocide #from the river to the sea #i stand with palestine #free palestine #free gaza #gaza genocide #bds movement #boycott israel #israel #tel aviv

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norrizzandpia · 8 months

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Used (LN4)

Summary: A bet can do more harm than good.

Warnings: i dont think ive ever wrote something this angsty, its very sad so be warned, lando is a back stabbing bitch but hes stupidly in love, literally stupidly, insecurities, loss of virginity, major betrayal, sad ending but there will be a part 2 bc as we all know i cant do sad endings

Note: im very sorry for this one

Word count: somewhere in the 4k’s

When Oscar got into F1, Y/n promised herself she wouldn’t follow her brother around the paddock like a lost puppy. With cameras all around and prying eyes, she wanted to come across as independent and strong rather than pathetic and small. For a while, that translated, but it got lonely after a few months. Missing her brother as he was busy doing interviews or creating connections, and losing her parents in the mass of people, she always found herself alone. That was until Lando fully came into the picture. He hadn’t wanted to overstep boundaries with his teammate by befriending his sister, but the boy couldn’t resist when he continued to catch glimpses of her struggle to fit in. She was too young to hang out with any of the racers’ girlfriends, yet too old to hang out with the children of powerful people. She was only 19, still figuring out what life was, why she was here, and what she was meant to do. So, overcoming his own anxieties, Lando approached the girl on a rainy Sunday when the race had been postponed because of the wet weather.

“Can I sit here?” He had said, smiling lightly at her as her head slowly moved up to make eye contact with the popular driver.

She had moved over on the bench, nodding quickly as if she was afraid any time in which he had to wait would set him off.

At first, things were awkward with Lando not knowing anything about her and Y/n being too shy to form any words in front of the boy she thought was cute. Nonetheless, after 20 minutes, words were spoken, and conversing became second nature.

Gradually, Lando felt Y/n warm up to him as she realized the driver was someone she found solace in.

Her first friend in Formula One.

Everyone in the paddock began to take note of the budding friendship quickly evolving between the sister and the driver. While people were happy to see a new connection growing, Oscar was weary. It was no secret Lando had a track record of sleeping around, pretending to be close to women for only one night in order to get what he wanted. The women in question always understood the pattern and never found offense or distaste with it, but Y/n wasn’t that mature, Oscar knew. His sister was still naive and her lack of attention toward media outlets played into her lack of luck as she didn’t realize Lando could be around for all the wrong reasons. Oscar did, though, and he made it incredibly clear to the British boy that any impure advances on his sister were not, and never would be, welcomed.

“You pull any weird shit and I’ll have your head.” He said sternly to Lando in a tone that no one had ever heard come out of the Australian before.

“I’m not going to, Oscar. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but we’ve realized we just have so much in common. There’s nothing else behind it, I promise. I just like your sister’s company. That’s it.” He reassured.

And, for a while, that was true. Lando saw nothing else behind their friendship, however, that soon began to change. He noted the way he became so comfortable being touchy with her or giving her impromptu compliments about how pretty she looked that day. Being experienced in that realm of life, Lando also noted the way her cheeks blushed ever so slightly under his eye, and he couldn’t ignore the way his insides twisted at her subtle happiness over him.

They danced around each other and their feelings for some time until a drunken night changed everything. Lando had invited his friends from DJing over, one of those people being Martin Garrix. The men had laid themselves out on Lando’s luxurious couch with beers in hand, chugging away as they gossiped like 13-year-old girls.

The conversation came easily with these people as Martin interrupted and changed the topic to something a bit more interesting, “Lando, I gotta ask. What’s going on with you and Oscar’s sister?”

At this point in their relationship, Lando was still in the stage of denying any deeper feelings for her, “Nothing? What do you mean?”

Martin shook his head as the boys around him knowingly eyed each other, “Come on, you two are definitely sleeping together.”

“No, we aren’t.” He said immediately, not understanding why he had become so invested in protecting Y/n’s image.

Martin’s eyebrows furrowed, “So, you two aren’t sneaking around behind the brother’s back?”

“No,” Lando said firmly, but his defiance on the subject proved to worsen his situation as Martin set his beer down and looked at him with a mischievous look.

“Then, I have a proposition for you.” His arms rested on his knees as he leaned forward.

“What?” Lando mirrored his stance.

“Obviously, you know I have that really big gig next year at The Cabin in New York.” Lando nodded, “Well, if you can get Y/n to fall in love with you, maybe even sleep with her, I don’t know, then you can play it. Play the set at The Cabin.” Martin’s idea made Lando’s eyes bulge out of his head and his body leap from the couch.

The alcohol in his system proved to do its job by impairing his judgment as he didn’t ask questions or try to understand why Martin would get off on playing with someone in that way. All the boy did was scream his agreeance and then excitement for playing at The Cabin in New York.

“YOU ASKED MY SISTER OUT!?” Oscar had screamed in fury at Lando 2 days later.

Putting his hands up, Lando tried to talk down an aggravated teammate, “Listen, Oscar. Listen,” He pleaded, “I didn’t see it coming, really. But, I…” The words felt sour in his mouth as the guilt for what he was about to embark on set in, “I didn’t expect to fall for her, okay? I just did and I hope you’ll trust me enough that I’m not going to play her like I do the others. I wouldn’t hurt you like that and I especially wouldn’t hurt her like that.”

His words seemed to calm the blonde boy as he looked Lando in the eye, trying to decipher if he was being truthful. And, even though he wasn’t, Oscar found Lando’s spewed sentences to be genuine.

“Fine, but, I’m serious, Lando,” Oscar shoved a finger into Lando’s chest, “if you pull anything, I won’t hesitate to find crazy dirt on you and blackmail McLaren into firing you. Trust me, I’m smart enough to ruin your whole career.”

His threats went in Lando’s right ear and out the other because he found his British accent flooding the room they stood in as he said, “I promise, nothing will happen.”

—

“Is there any specific you want for tonight, my love?” Lando whispered against her skin as they lay in his bed, tangled together after a busy morning of meetings and conversations discussing their announcement of their relationship to the public with McLaren’s PR teams.

She breathed against the crook of his neck as she toyed with his shirt, “No, just excited to go out with you.”

He chuckled as he breathed the scent of her shampoo in, “Me too, baby.”

After nearly 3 months, the couple had fallen easily into the norms of a romantic relationship. Having not yet slept together or fully opened up and shown the other dark parts of themselves, they had a long way to go, but, at that moment, the two were content.

Content with having casual dates, hidden under baseball caps and sunglasses to keep from someone seeing them and outing their newfound connection. Content with the star gazing they had scheduled a few weeks back for that night, fulfilling something Y/n had mentioned she wanted to try.

They found themselves lost in the sky, weeds surrounding them as they lay side by side on a thin blanket to separate them from the rough grass beneath. In a quiet moment with Y/n’s fingers pointing out constellations to him, Lando sunk into himself.

His past few months with her had proven to be a lot more interesting than he had expected. Pretending to be in love with her started to feel less like a forced feeling and more like something he had been destined to feel for her and her only his whole life. The guilt ate away at him, but the love that was slowly consuming him for her trumped it every time.

“Lan? You still here?” Her sweet voice cut through his thoughts, making his head turn to meet her eyes.

He smiled at her, “Yeah, sorry, just lost track of my thoughts, I think.”

Her hand trailed up and down his stomach, “You okay?”

“Mhm, just don’t want to leave.” He nodded, looking at her so she could understand that he didn’t just want to leave this moment, he didn’t want to leave her.

She cracked a small smile, “Oh, me neither.”

A beat of silence went by before she sat up and turned to look down at him, “When did you realize you wanted more than just a friendship between us?”

This question was something he was anticipating and absolutely dreaded because, if he were to tell the truth, he would have to tell her she was a bet with his friends and that was the only reason he had been pushed to confront his underlying feelings for her. Although, wanting his gig, Lando tried to tell a white lie.

“I don’t really know when it happened. I just know that one day I really liked talking with you and the next I just liked you.” Simple and sweet, he thought. That was the trick to getting away with this.

Her blush complicated things and the butterflies in his stomach over her smile laid out the strong counterargument to his mind.

“Hm.” She said as she lowered herself back to the ground.

Lando’s curiosity took over as he asked what she meant by the ominous sound.

“Just that, I didn’t expect you to like me. I mean, you’re past is a lot of picture-perfect models and well-rounded, intellectual, impressive women. Not a 19-year-old kid whose major is undecided as she enters into her second year of college.” Her words struck a deep cord within his chest that he couldn’t not play.

“Is that all you think you are?” He was complicating the situation further, he understood that, but to think Y/n didn’t understand how amazing she was was something he couldn’t ignore.

She shrugged her shoulders, “Well, Lan, what else would I be?”

He was internally shocked at her obliviousness to her own perfection, “‘What else would I be?’ Y/n, what? You’re not just some lost college kid. You’re Oscar’s best friend and the person I would call first no matter what the situation. You’re so much to everyone around you. How can you not see that?”

Her voice came out trembly as she stared at the stars, “It’s hard when your brother’s constantly outshined you your whole life. My parents never realized they had another kid when I was growing up. It was all about Oscar and his races, his success. I never lived up to anything to actually make them notice me.”

His heart broke for the hurt little girl she was clearly entrusting him with, “Y/n, look at me.” His hands wrapped around her jaw to turn her head to the side, their eyes meeting in an intense stare, “Oscar could never outshine you and the fact that you’ve gone your whole life thinking anyone, let alone your brother, has the ability to take other’s attention from you is preposterous. You are the first thing that catches people’s eye when they walk into a room. You’re intoxicating with the way you carry yourself. You’re not just a confused child, you’re you. You are your best friend’s safe space, Oscar’s go-to person to brag about, you’re my favorite person, and, even though you might not think so, your parent’s pride and joy. You’re so many things, darling. Just because you aren’t an F1 driver doesn’t mean you don’t mean something. If it means anything, to me, you mean everything.”

His forehead rested against hers as he whispered the words to her, her eyes closed against his skin as she took in what she had longed to hear since she was 7. Lando’s thumbs rested against her cheeks, collecting the soft tears as they fell from her eyes.

“Sorry,” She whispered as she tried to back away from his hold, apologizing for the wetness that was pooling around his fingers.

However, Lando was quick to pull her back in, “No, don’t apologize. Letting me in isn’t something I’m afraid of, Y/n. It’s something I’m grateful to experience.”

She nodded, at a loss for words as she reveled in his gentleness. His hold on her tightened as he pushed her against his chest, whispering words into her ear.

Words that spoke truths he believed deep within himself and words that complexified the bet he had made.

—

“So, tell us what’s going on with you and the hotshot driver!” Y/n’s best friend, Paige, exclaimed at breakfast weeks after Lando and she had gone public.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, “Nothing! We’re just together. It’s not that serious.”

Paige reeled back in her seat, sending her a questionable look, “Really? ‘Not that serious’? Are you kidding me? He took your virginity!”

“Shh!!! Shh!!” Y/n jabbed a finger in her friend's face in response to the loud volume accompanied by the exposition of her situation.

“Sorry!” Paige squeaked, looking around to make sure no one had heard her, thankfully no one had. She continued, “Does he know?”

“That it was my first time? Yeah.” Y/n informed as Paige smiled triumphantly at the girl across from her.

“So, was he sweet? Did you like it?” Paige fired off the questions.

Y/n blushed, being taken back to the night before where Lando had assured her he would be gentle.

He had.

“Yes, he was very sweet. We got back from the date and decided to watch a movie. During it, we started kissing and then, you know, one thing led to another, and…”

“You told him.” Paige finished her sentence.

Y/n waved her head slowly to the left and right, “Well, it started getting intense, so I just let him know. I tried to be pretty nonchalant about it, come off like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but the moment he heard it, he was telling me how much he cared about it.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“He just wanted to talk about it, wanted to make sure I wasn’t rushing into anything and that I actually wanted to do this with him. He told me how he didn’t want to screw anything up and how he really wanted it to go well for me, so if I needed him to change anything, I could just let him know. He was really big on communication through the whole thing and, honestly, it made things so much easier. And, then, after we were done, I got up to leave, but he acted like I had just said he wouldn’t ever win a world championship, and then insisted on me staying. Paige, he was so perfect.”

The two girls giggled together as they dug into their food, “So, you’ve let him in completely then?”

Y/n giggled, not having a clue of what was to come, “After he saw me completely naked and I told him about my deepest insecurities? Yeah, I have. I just hope this doesn’t backfire in my face.”

—

Lando was Y/n’s first love. There was no doubt about that. So, surprising him at the Silverstone Grand Prix sounded like a good idea. However, as she and Oscar stood outside his Driver’s Room door, accidentally eavesdropping on his conversation with Martin, the world proved to her that being there entirely was a horrible idea.

“Mate, I think it's gone too far. I want to back out of the bet.” Lando’s muffled voice sounded through the wall as Oscar and Y/n glanced at each other, matching confusion on their faces.

“No way, Lando. We made a deal. I don’t want to do this gig, I’ve done it so many times before it’s boring now, but for someone like you who has never done it, it’ll be fun.” Martin pleaded.

Y/n could practically hear Lando shake his head, “No, Martin. We should’ve never made it in the first place. I don’t want to play at The Cabin. Dating her for a bet is so cruel. I should’ve stopped it so long ago. I should’ve told you ‘no’ immediately.”

She didn’t even really comprehend what his words meant for a few minutes. She just stood there, eyes fixed on the door, trying desperately to figure out a way to explain away what he had just revealed.

Oscar’s hand gripped her arm as he watched her realize Lando’s true intent. His lip trembled, trying to keep the tears at bay, as his little sister broke in front of him. Her mouth opened and closed before her eyes watered and her gaze was shooting around the hallway in an attempt to find her brother. The fact that he was right in front of her didn’t translate in her brain, which had been in immediate turmoil once it dawned on her.

“Y/n, I’m right here.” He repeated to her as he slowly coaxed her into his embrace. Blind rage threatened to fill Oscar’s body, wanting nothing more than to storm into Lando’s room and rip him to shreds, but, as his sister quietly sobbed in his arms, he knew she needed him more than his fist needed to collide with Lando’s face.

Fortunately, his room wasn’t too far, so they weren’t seen by anyone as they made their way. The tears never ceased, only intensifying once they found themselves tucked away in the privateness of his own four walls.

“I was a bet?” Her choked sobs fought to silence her, but she continued to repeat the words as if it could cause her confusion to be fixed.

She clutched onto her older brother as she willed herself to go back in time and never step foot in an F1 paddock. Her mind raced as it tried to erase their time together and the love she had for him, the love she still had for him.

—

Hours after crying so much the tears dried up, Y/n found herself numb as she poured steeped the tea bag into the steaming hot water. No longer caring if she ran into him, she stood in the middle of McLaren’s hospitality, still trying to understand when she went wrong.

When she started loving him in the way that she did now. Even after finding out it was fake, his love for her was fake, she can’t stop the way her heart still beats for him.

The way, even after he had hurt her as badly as he did, she still searched for him in the crowd.

Oscar was off doing an interview, something he begrudgingly went off as he wanted to sit with his sister longer, as she made her walk back to his resting room.

Her attention was on the warm temperature that surrounded her face when she sipped her drink, she didn’t see the man of the hour turn the corner nor did she see the way his gaze landed on her or the way he began running toward her, confused as to why she was here.

“Y/n? Love, what are you doing here? I thought you had a test you couldn’t skip?” His voice forced feelings into her body whether she liked it or not. However, this time instead of feeling suffocating sadness, she felt pure, bewildered rage.

Turning around, she met his eyes, “What set do you think you’ll play at The Cabin?”

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together at her question as well as the look on her face he wasn’t accustomed to.

“What?” He asked simply, not believing she could know.

She took a step closer to him, letting the betrayal take control, “When you play in New York at The Cabin, Lan,” Her smile was sickly and incredibly fake, “What are you going to play? I was thinking that one remix you have that you said makes the crowd go wild. I mean, it has to be big seeing as you went through so much trouble to get the spot. Ya know, dating me for a bet and all.” She took his silence and blank stare as an invitation to keep going, “Inspiring, really, Lando. The amount of dedication you must have when it comes to being a DJ that you would exploit someone else’s vulnerability, allow them to tell you all the internalized bullshit they’ve struggled with their whole lives, and, then!” She exclaimed, her voice translating ferocity rather than joy, “And then!” She dryly laughed, “Take their virginity just to spice things up! Wow, Lando, you have a certain level of determinedness I think society doesn’t address enough.”

His hand reached out for hers, but she quickly pulled her own back to her chest, looking at him in disgust, “Y/n, let me explain.”

Not wanting to look at his face any longer, she turned around, hightailing it to Oscar’s as she heard Lando follow her.

“Y/n, I’m serious. Please, there’s an explanation. Listen to me, baby. Please, I’m begging you.” He pleaded with her as he continued to reach for her, but he was always just a little too late.

“Y/n, I never meant for it to go this far. I though-” He tried, but Y/n was whirling around and jabbing a finger into his chest as she interrupted him with a fiery gaze.

“You never meant for it to go this far? Really? That’s the best you can give me!? I was lonely and you took advantage of that! You didn’t mean for it to go this far? Are you kidding me? You should’ve never even looked in my direction. You’re sick in the head for knowingly taking my virginity! For taking what was supposed to be something special and eventful, something meaningful, and twisting it into some stepping stone all a part of your grand plan to gain a bigger audience for your hobby! That was mine. That moment, when I allowed a guy I trusted and loved to take something so sacred, was supposed to be something I looked fondly back on. That part of my life, my girlhood, you exploited for your own personal gain. Where the hell do you get off? I trusted you. I told you things about my life, about myself, I’ve never told anyone before, and, what? The whole time it was a bet to you? A task you had to complete in order to turn some tables at a club in a dirty city?”

He stared at her, trying to peer into her soul and tell her all the things he didn’t know how to say, but, with all the hurt he had presented her with, she didn’t see him. She didn’t see the anguish he was going through over his actions catching up with him and abusing someone who was completely innocent. She didn’t see how hard he was trying to tell her he loved her and he always had.

“Y/n, it was never that to me. Please, you have to understand. You’ve always been so much more to me. Y/n, I love you-” Once again, she was shutting him up.

“That’s not love, Lando, and it’s pathetic you think it is.”

With that, she stepped into her brother’s room, closed the door, and locked it. Effectively, shutting Lando out.

For good or for the time being, he didn’t know.

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al1fers-haven · 1 month

Text

Almost Instinctual

Alastor x pregnant!reader

‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️

Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.

Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2

(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)

(8 weeks/2 months)

You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.

Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.

Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.

Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.

And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.

Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.

(12 weeks/3 months)

You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.

Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.

“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.

You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.

Making people uncomfortable.

Cocaine.

And candy crush.

Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.

Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.

Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.

Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.

He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.

Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.

(Unless he was threatening someone.)

(17 weeks/3.2 months)

You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.

Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.

Alastor had been…odd.

He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.

Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.

Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)

You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.

You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.

Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.

Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.

Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.

(20 weeks/4 months)

First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..

You two had grown a bit closer.

Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.

The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it

You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.

He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.

(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)

(25 weeks/5 months)

If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.

You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.

May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.

She asked to be the godmother.

Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.

Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.

(7 months)

Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.

He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)

He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.

Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.

(8 months)

Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.

After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.

He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!

Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…

(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)

#hazbin alastor #hazbin art #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #pregnant reader #secret pregnancy #slow burn #soft alastor #deer man

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 27 days

Text

The Quiet Ones 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: don't ask me why I did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You keep to yourself. That’s the safest, the easiest way to live. You keep your head down, your eyes to yourself, your voice bottled up.

You grip your phone as you approach the coffee shop. You stand on your toes to see through the painted windows and frown at the long queue. You won’t have to worry about that. Like everything else social, you’ve found a work around.

You look at your phone, the app showing your order as ‘preparing’. It should be done shortly as the progress bar fills close to complete. You can bear the claustrophobia for a minute or so until it’s ready.

You go to open the door but an arm reaches past you and does that first. You step back, patiently waiting for the other customer to precede you. They don’t move. You stare at their shoes. Dark blue velvet loafers with gold emblems on chains.

“Go on, baby face, I got it,” the man’s voice makes your skin crawl.

You shrink down and give a nod, throat clenching as you struggle to find your voice. You’re not much for conversation but you’re but impolite.

“Thanks,” you force out without raising your head.

You scurry through quickly, a bit to close to the stranger than you like, and you clasp your phone against your chest as you stand just away from the cluster of people awaiting their orders. You bounce on your feet as the noises join together to form a cacophony; the hissing steam, the clanging metal, the clinking porcelain, the calls of the workers behind the counter, and the buzz of the crowd seated or standing around the cafe. Sweat gathers on the nape of your neck as the chaos swirls a storm around you.

You pull your phone away from the front of your pullover and check the screen. Should be ready any moment and you’ll be free of the circus. You adjust your grip on the phone, almost jittery as another customer joins the wait at the pick up window.

You breathe out. It’s not usually this busy at this time. You have a routine. You can handle the expected. You order on your phone so you don’t need to talk to anyone. You wait outside until it’s almost done then come in too quickly claim your prize. But not today, something’s different and it’s throwing everything off.

It’s only on Wednesday’s that you venture down to the cafe. It’s the halfway point of your week so you mark it with a taste of motivation. The same order every week. A London fog latte. Simple and affordable. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated.

Your name cuts through the din, “...medium London fog.”

You drop your arm to your side and set your shoulders. You march forward through the parting bodies ahead of you and reach for the cup. Before you can grasp it, someone else scoops it up. You nearly cry out in horror. Someone’s stealing your order!

You turn to the tea thief but they make no move to flee. They hold the cup nonchalantly, turning it to read the sticker on the side, reciting the same name that just rose from the barista’s lips seconds ago. You face the stranger but again, your eyes are downward.

The blue loafers!

“Cute name,” he comments as he holds the cup out.

You once more try to take the cup but before you can, he has it out of reach again. Your lashes flick and your fingers twiddle helplessly. His large hand is firmly around the cup so even if you did try to wrestle it from him, you doubt you’d have any hope but to spill it all.

You look around but no one else seems to notice. They’re all staring at their phones or talking with the person next to them. The staff behind the counter are too busy appeasing the rush of orders.

“I’ve never tried one of these,” he taunts, “I’m more of a ristretto guy. Like my espresso.”

You shake your head and rescind your hand, balling it against your fist. What does he want? Why is he bothering you? You said thank you. Did he not hear you?

“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he pushes the tea towards you, “there you are, sweat pea.”

You hesitate. You slowly unfurl your fingers and reach for the cup. As you wrap your fingers around it, you can’t help but brush his. Thick and strong and unmoving. He clings to it for just a moment before he lets you have it.

“Thanks,” you squeak again, this time louder so he certainly hears you.

“You got a sweet voice,” he puts his hand on his hip, a glimpse of a shiny gold watch face peeking out from beneath his sleeve, “I’d love to hear more of it.”

Your eyes round as you focus on the zipper of his thin jacket. You shake your head and meekly raise your cup awkwardly and dip your chin slightly. No thanks.

You turn and weave your way back through the crowd. Your heart is thumping in your chest. What an odd encounter.

More so, you’re dismayed that he saw you. That he noticed you. For years, you’ve done your best to be invisible. You prefer it that way. You don’t even think your neighbours know you exist. But that man, he seemed to see nothing but you.

You push outside and nearly drop your cup. You try to steady yourself. You’re all knotted up and tense. You tuck your phone into your back pocket and bring the cup before you nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the foam. Something about it isn’t as soothing as usual.

You turn down the pavement and wince as a sole scuffs close behind you. Suddenly, another set of steps walk next to yours, measured to keep in tandem with your own short legs. Blue velvet.

You walk faster. Is he following you? Why? What does he want? He’s much taller, you can’t outpace him.

“You know, when I said I’d like to hear more, I thought maybe over a coffee?” He suggests.

You don’t say a word as you keep your eyes forward, squeezing your cup tight as you try not to swish it around too much. You’ve never had to deal with this before. Men don’t see you. There was a time you hated that but since, you were grateful for that.

“I mean, I could do most of the talking, never had much of a trouble with that, jellybean,” he offers.

You shake your head. Your throat tightens. You can’t speak. You want to scream but you can’t make a noise.

As you get to the corner, you stop short. He steps past you but just as quickly catches himself and turns to face you. You gulp and look down at your cup. You can’t keep going. If you do, you’ll lead him right to your home.

“What’s going on, sweetheart? You forget something? How about we head back and I’ll buy you something sugary to go with that?”

You furrow your brow and step back on your heel. You bring your eyes up, a furtive glance at his face, brief and flickering. You just want to know what he looks like so you never see him again.

His blue eyes twinkle, his nose is long but proportioned to his chiseled face, his hair is combed back, the sides shaved, and a thick swatch of hair lines his upper lip. He’s older than you, you know that much, but you’ve never good at gauging age. You’ve never seen him before but you can’t be sure. You don’t look at many faces.

You pivot and cross the street without looking. You narrowly miss a bumper and get a honk in remonstrance. You can’t stop yourself. You’re panicking. You head down the next street as his footsteps follow. It’s all you can hear.

As you pass a bin, you dump the drink. You don’t pause as it plummets heavily into the trash and you fall into a brisk half-jog. You pump your arms, puffing wildly, dizzy as you search for a saviour.

You dash into the library. You don’t know what you’re looking for. Just for anyone to get this man to leave you alone.

You don’t look back as you enter and head straight for the front counter. You’re out of breath as you approach the rounded edge and tap the bell frantically. A woman emerges from behind the window wall and she greets you with a confused chime.

“Hello, can I help you?” She asks.

“Yes, I need...” you gulp and glance at the doors. You push away from the counter and spin, searching. You don’t see the man. He’s probably waiting outside. But you never looked back. You never really saw if he was following. “I...” you turn back to the woman, “never mind.”

You cross your arms and turn away. You cringe as you realise how ridiculous you must have seemed. Worse, you didn’t mean to bother someone just doing their job and over what? You’re own issues. You should go home, back to your reclusion, where you can’t be in anyone’s way.

👄

When you finally muster the courage to leave the library, your journey home is slowed by your paranoia. You have your phone out, held up so you can see over your shoulder with the front camera. You watch the screen more than the sidewalk ahead of you.

You get home without a second shadow. As you let yourself through the grated front door of the building, you can’t help but feel stupid. That man must’ve got the idea when you as good as ran in the other direction. You’re being dramatic.

You close the camera and put your phone away. You waist six dollars in your frantic flight. You mourn the tea latte as the heavy inner door clunks shut behind you. You drag your feet up the stairs as your keys jingle on your finger.

You apartment is at the very end of the hall. You enter and twist the latch. You slide the chain into place and hang the key ring on the little hook beside the door frame. You untangle your purse and leave it with your phone on the table in the corner.

You shuffle the few feet to the front room and look around. You find comfort in the familiarity of your little apartment. Your hideaway.

You go back to your desk and sign back in. You’re back later than usual but you can still make up the time. As long as there’s enough tasks left in the portal. You don’t have to let that man ruin your whole day. You’ll never see him again. In a few days, you won’t even remember him.

👄

Wednesday. Halfway through the week.

You scroll and click around your screen as you watch the clock in the corner tick on. Usually around this time, you’d be excited. You’d clock out for your break and go down to the cafe. As much as you looked forward to the treat, the walk alone was relaxing in its own way.

Not that day. Despite your efforts to shrug off the strange encounter, you haven’t shaken it. So instead, the kettle boils as a bag of earl gray sits in an empty mug. You’re not going. Maybe next week.

You’re a bit depressed but you’re too nervous to make the venture. Oh well, you’ll save a bit of money. You could find a different place next time. That might be easier.

You stay logged in and claim a new task. Hey, you can be done work earlier if you can power through. You might even make a few extra bucks.

The kettle clicks and you get up to pour the water. You leave it to steep, forgetting it for the screen before you. Your fingers tap endlessly across the keyboard, filling the silence as you zone in on the words, transcribing messy ink to Times New Roman.

Your trance is broken by a sudden buzz. You sit up, the kink in your neck pangs. You need to stop hunching. The buzz comes again. Is that... It must be a mistake. It happens now and then, someone buzzes the wrong apartment.

You get up as it sounds a third time and you shuffle down to the speaker box. You hit the button, “wrong number.”

“No--”

You let go of the number before you can hear the response. They buzz again. You sigh. You hit the button.

“I’m sorry but you have the wrong number,” you repeat.

“I don--”

You release the button again and take a step back. Buzz! You’re getting annoyed. You hit the button. “Wrong--”

“Got a delivery. 212.” The man’s voice drowns out your own, reciting your name after your apartment number. Your finger stays on the button as you frown. A delivery?

“I’m not expecting a delivery.”

“Are you...” he says your name again.

“... yes.”

Silence, filled with the low hum of the speaker, “so, can I come up or...?”

“Uh, I guess.”

You pull your finger away and hover it over the other. Maybe it’s from work? There was the one time they sent a cheap mass production travel mug with their logo on it as some incentive. A poor attempt at employee appreciation.

You press down and hold until you’re certain they have enough time to get in. You wait by the door, ringing your hands. You hear the door at the end of the hall open on its old hinges and you peek through the peephole.

You watch the fuzzy figure come into focus with each of his long steps. He doesn’t hold a box nor wear the uniform of a postal worker. No, he wears those blue leather loafers and holds a bright pink paper cup with a white lid. From the cafe.

As he comes close, you get a pigeon’s eye view of the hair on his upper lip and his bold blue eyes. It feels like he can see you too as he stands smirking on the other side of the door. This can’t be real.

He knocks and you wince as the door shifts in the frame.

“Special delivery,” he calls through, “open up, baby face.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #the quiet ones #dark!fic #series #the gray man

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