#BOND: PETER AND ROSE. * if i had just a little more time...

[naeverse]

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

🐩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

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

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! ❤️)

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

[strryhaze]

Which of his sisters was Bobby closest to? 🩷

i would say he was closest to patricia! they were the closest in age as he was born right after her.

rose shared an anecdote about them in her memoir: “The summer when he was twelve and she was barely fourteen, both went to camp and both became dangerously ill: she with acute appendicitis requiring an emergency operation. She was joined at the same hospital a day or two later by Bobby, another emergency case, with pneumonia. Neither knew the other was there. 

Pat says: “They told me at the hospital that there was a little boy down the hall who really liked Cokes and comics and things, but they didn’t say who it was—they thought I’d be so upset. I think we traded a few comic books and sent a few oral messages back and forth, but it was days before we realized we were doing this with each other.”’

i don’t know all too much about the intricacies of their dynamic but i do know they always had a very special sibling bond. when jfk died, obviously patricia and bobby were devastated. as her marriage to peter started to crumble, bobby was usually the one who would try to steer his sister away from the bottle. but while jack’s death devastated her, bobby’s death absolutely crushed her and left her depending more and more on alcohol.

patricia kennedy lawford leaving the hospital on june 6, 1968 after bobby was declared dead .

her children began worrying about her. shortly after bobby’s death, she moved to paris with her daughters. in her son’s memoir, christopher wrote: “my mother would talk about jfk’s death. it was rare, but she did. bringing up the death of uncle bobby though… was just something we didn’t do. not for a long time.”

this was a year after bobby’s death during his memorial service in june of 1969.

pat sitting on his lap and bobby’s head laying on her shoulder 😭😭😭😭

this last one was captioned ‘skiing with beauty’ (bobby) by pat herself :((

[authorsofghosts]

Snack Cakes | Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summery: There is no way in hell Peter is missing the one time of year where he can get cutesy, pink snacks to share with you. Whether he buys them or steals them, you'll never know (you do).

Themes: Already Established Relationship, Fluff -> Suggestive, Open Ending, Aphrodisiacs, small Argument, Cussing (Reader and Peter), Drugs Mention (weed), Kleptomaniac!Peter (duh), Lots of 'I love you's, Pet names, Twinkies!!

Word Count: 1.2k

You walk down the stair of the Maximoff house to the basement, also known as Peter's "lair" or whatever he decides to call it this week. You see the boxes of Little Debbie treats are all red, pink and white instead of their usually blue. That's the first difference you see. Peter is leaning against one of his many (stolen) arcade machines with a single rose in his hand, looking at you as if you were Cinderella walking down those stairs.

"Hey there." He says in what he thinks is a smooth tone, but his voice cracks slightly. You don't see it, but he slaps him. Peter grimaces slightly, zooming over to the end of the stairs and putting out his hand.

"Hi." You respond, your hand gripping the gift bag in your hand. He looked down at it, then back at you with a knowing grin. "Don't even think about it." You say quickly, swatting his hand. "No peaking, you have to open it and be surprised!"

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Whatever you say." He takes the bag and places it on the couch. "But lemme give you my gift first." He laughs out, pulling you into his arms and pressing a littler of kisses on your face before meeting your lips.

He's gentle at first, but as his tongue traces the slit of your lips for access, you can feel the hunger behind his actions. You pull away, laughing softly. "Peter, later, alright?" You say, looking into his eyes as you hold his face.

He huffs slight, defeated, knowing that he can't fight you. You make him melt, though he'd never admit it out loud, or sober for that matter. He might have mumbled it once or twice while high, but never loud enough for you to hear it.

His hands run down your arms before grabbing hold of your hands, intertwining your fingers with his. "Okay, I'll open your stupid, cheesy gift." He laughs, pulling you over to the couch. "I'm joking, I don't think it's stupid, I mean, I haven't even seen it."

"You talk too much." You say, hinting you know he's had a sneak peak at it.

He opens the bag after you've both sat down, eyes widening as he fully sees it. He pulls out the two foot long box of Twinkies that says "I love you thiiiisss much." He laughs softly eyes flickering from the box to you. "This is ridiculous. Adorable, even. Where did you find this?"

"Whole Foods, why-"

Aaand... he's gone.

Great. You tap your foot, sighing as you wait for him to reappear. You don't have to wait but thirty seconds for him to come back, a stack of the same boxes now adorning his shelves and a gift bag of his own, for you. "You know, just a crummy rose and some kisses aren't enough for you. I think that you deserve the world. So I did a little shopping..."

"Shopping? So you paid for it?" He laughs, which he makes a face to.

"Well, uh, not exactly, BUT I didn't steal their whole stock, so, uh-" He laughs, looking at you as he shrugs, "That's something, right?"

You groan, taking the bag from him and shaking your head. "I'll judge based off your present." You mumble, throwing the tissue paper on the floor and looking into the bag. Your jaw drops as you pull out the assortments of chocolates, candies, and of course, snack cakes.

Of course, sweets are something that you and Peter have always bonded over, he even asked you out using the cheesy 'Wanna kiss?' trick, a Hershey's kiss in his hand. He's nothing more than a blabbering, speedy bundle of puns and love.

You stand up and wrap your arms around him, not even caring about the card just yet. You pepper kisses over his face, eventually locking your lips with his. "I fucking love you, you stupid fucking klepto."

"I love you, too, you control freak." He laughs out, pulling you closer and falling back onto the couch, placing you in his lap as he smirks up at you. "Can't I have just a little fun?"

"Stealing is fun?"

"It's exhilarating, actually."

"Do you even know what that word means?"

"Uh, yeah? Why would I use a word I don't know the meaning to? Hmmm?" He laughs softly, pressing his nose against yours.

"Then what's the definition, smart ass?"

"Uh... something like thrilling, no? I mean, I could go get a dictionary." His smirk widens looking up at you with those dark brown eyes. "Jackass." He throws out.

"Oh, I'm the jackass?" You laugh, lowering your face so your lips hover his. "How so, Peter?"

He tenses slightly as you say his name, eyes widening as he laughs. You usually call him some pet name, not his real one. He's speechless for a moment for he sucks his lips into his mouth, releasing them with an audible pop. "Well..." He starts, blinking a few times before continuing.

"You're the one that pushed me onto the couch." He lies, "Kissing me out of nowhere, and pulling on my hair-"

"I didn't pull your hair!" You interrupt.

"Interrupting my list of the reasons you're a jackass, wow, you're just digging yourself into a deep hole, huh?" Peter laughs, shaking his head before pulling your lips back to his. "I love you."

"Love you, too, baby." You murmur against his lips, wrapping your arms under his and settling in his lap. "You know what? I think you're exhilarating."

"Exhilarating?" He chuckles out, your head notching between his neck and shoulder as you get comfortable.

"Mhm." You hum, closing your eyes and taking in the scent of him; cologne and aftershave, a faint smell of junk food. You press a kiss against his pulse point, making him jolt up slightly.

His hands comb through your hair as he looks at your body softly melting into his. His other rubs soothing circles on your back. "Happy Valentine's, hon." He murmurs into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your head.

"Happy Valentine's, babe." You respond in a mumble. You get off his lap and reach into the gift bag, grabbing a piece of chocolate from the bag.

"Oh, wait, that one's special, hah..." He says, grabbing it from you. His face is actually serious for once.

"What is it like... an edible?"

"Well, something like that. I mean, if you don't want them, I can take them back, uh..." He laughs, shaking his head. "They're those little candies that make you... you know, really horny?"

"Peter!"

"What? I mean, it's Valentine's Day, I thought... You know..." He looks away, biting his lip. He looks back at you, a faint blush on his cheeks as he smiles.

You sigh, shaking your head as you look down at the chocolate in his fingers. You quickly take it, unwrapping it and breaking it in half. Before he can even react, you push it past his lips.

"Shit? Really?" He laughs chewing the sweet chocolate.

"Yeah, why not? And like you said, if I don't want them...." You smile, getting back onto his lap and plopping down on it. "How long till these things work, baby?"

[novashelby]

Evie: The Origin Story-Chapter Three

Paring: Tommy & OC(Evelyn)-Father/daughter bond Word Count: 2.5k Warning: This story deals with child abuse, trauma, and dark themes. Please be cautioned before reading it Story Summary: War tainted, Tommy Shelby was slowly losing hope until he found it in the form of a young girl. Evelyn Walsh, just 8 years old, knew far too much about the cruel world they lived in. All she wanted was to be a child and all Tommy Shelby wanted was something to love, care for, and allow him to feel human once again. This is the origin story of Evelyn Rose Shelby, the adopted daughter of Tommy Shelby. Chapter Summary: Tommy spots the perfect pair of little black shoes for Evelyn.

Links: Ao3 Wattpad As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you so much and please enjoy. Tag list: (If you want to be added or removed, please DM me. @evita-shelby @wonderlanddreamer @zablife @brummiereader @peakyswritings @rei-is-still-here @vivianleighwishesshewasme @littlemiss-arabella @cillianmurphysdimples @lavender-haze-01 @futurefamousdeadmusician @missmomof3 @copinghex @kmc1989

He went back home a bit mid-afternoon, the picture resting in his upper pocket. Every few steps home, he felt for it. But the whole entire way, there was something warm in him. It wasn’t a feeling he had in quite some time. A warmness not from alcohol or quick lovers, but something deep. The rough, stoic Mr. Shelby almost hated how he couldn’t stop the smile. As he turned, he paused, from the corner of his eyes, something glimmered. His hand traveled to his back pocket, plucking his wallet out to count the money. 

The side above read Novak Shoe and Repair Shoppe. Underneath followed Finest leathers in Birmingham. Tommy peeked in, his fingers leaving marks on the glass. Displayed on the table was a pair of black Mary Janes, clasped with gold plated buckles. A little sign in big bold letters: 5 shillings! Tommy quickly looked at the opening hours and then his pocket watch, having exactly fifteen minutes to grab them. He hadn’t even known the girl’s size or if she even really liked Mary Janes.  But Tommy decided he was going to spare the money for them anyway!

Walking in, he whistled, “Mr. Novak! It’s Mr. Shelby.” Behind the counter, his youngest son, Peter looked out. The youngin was just a year older than the girl; dark brown shaggy hair and round face. Tommy took off his hat and tilted his hat, noticing he was wearing a brown apron. 

“Mr. Shelby! My da’s gone out for an errand run,” he said, almost proud that he was trusted to run the shop for a few minutes. The boy straightened up, tightening his apron, standing tall. “May I help you?” Tommy chuckled to himself, going easy on the boy.

Motioning to the Mary Janes, he said, “actually, may I have those in a size eleven?” Peter leaned over the counter, squining, life not yet giving him his height. 

Humming, he scratched his head. Tommy watched as the boy bustled around the counter and looked at the shoes. Like a proper shoppe keep, he told Mr. Shelby, “let me check in the back.” And Tommy simply nodded, stepping back so the boy could do his job. He rustled out in the back, and Tommy craned his head trying to peek in. And when the boy exited, box in hand, he went back standing as normal ‘minding his business’. On the counter, Peter opened the box, fighting with the tissue paper on the inside. “You’re a lucky lad, Mr. Shelby.”

“Is that so?” he grinned, peeking in the box. 

“Mmmmhm! One of only five,” he said, as if people were flying in and out for little girl Mary Janes. In his hand, he presented her with a shoe, his finger caressing the brass buckle. “My father hand finished these. The leather is sourced from Italy-”

“The finest?” Tommy teased, reaching for his wallet once more, counting out the shillings. “I’ll take ‘em. Along with….” His words carried off as he spotted some socks. If she needs shoes, she definitely needs socks. Probably tights…fuckin’ hell. He tossed three pairs of white little girl socks on the table, but then also two black, two beige, and fuck it, a piar of pink. All with a little lace trim like the little girls wear. Out loud, he sighed, “she goes to school, she’ll need tights, eh?” Peter sheepishly grinned and shrugged. Reaching over, he grabbed three pairs of tights in matching colors.”The damage, Peter?”

Peter counted the price tags and started packing up, assembling it in a nice paper bag. “Me da’ says we don’t charge Shelbys.”

Tommy ignored the boy, grabbing roughly fifteen shillings. “You still playing football?” he asked, handing the money to the kid. Peter looked at the money quizzically.

“My da’ says I could make the city's league in two years if I keep it up.” He tried to push the money back, but Tommy didn’t take it, putting on his hat, tilting the rim. 

“Keep it up, Peter,” he said, nodding his way out. “And tell your father I stopped by, eh?” The boy yelled after him, see you again, Mr. Shelby, as he exited and went walking down the street. 

Tommy knew people. The girl was curious, liked ducks, and had a drawing book. If he was her father, the girl wouldn’t be hanging around the canal where all sorts of people go along with all of the city’s groot, slime, and shit. But there was a certain area where the ducklings flocked about. A bit cleaner, quieter. A perfect spot for a little girl who wants to live in her own head. He pushed through the crowds of people, keeping his hat low and the bag close to him. It was the first time he paid for something in a bit that wasn’t nefarious. 

She sat in her usual spot. As he approached her, he paused, cursing under his breath noticing the ducks. All three of them, walking around her as she threw something that looked like dry oats. He hid a bit under the bridge. She told him the names of them, but he forgot. One was a piddle,  one was a quack or something. Grabbing a smoke, he thought a bit harder before sighing that she’d just tell him again anyway. Taking long strides as he smoked, he snapped for her attention. “Oi!” he called, and the girl snapped her head up and looked at him.

It took her a moment to register who called her. She stood, emptying her pockets, oats fluttering out and she grabbed her little school bag that most definitely did not not have an inch of school work. Tommy would have hated to admit it, but the way she skipped to him, her toothy smile shining, but the man who was often ever so blunt with emotions, felt like he wanted to kneel and give her a hug. But he kept his composure; tall and quiet. She reached him and gave him a small hug at his waist, which he gladly accepted with a simple pat to the back. 

“Mr. Shelby.” She looked up, still clinging to him, smiling. Squinting, he noticed something on her lower row of teeth; a missing tooth! Tommy peeled her off gently and kneeled, kindly cradling her jaw. 

“Let Mr. Shelby look,” he said, kindly, inspecting. “You lost a tooth!”

“Mmmmhm,” she said, giggling, pointing to the obvious empty spot. “On an apple!” He nodded when he noticed something else, the smile slowly faltering. He softly tilted her head back just gently to get a better look. A back molar, still a baby tooth, slightly off colored. And the top looked far too sunken to be normal. But he dropped it, not wanting to interfere further. 

“Now,” he said, standing. “What did you do with that tooth, eh? Did you throw it in the fire?”

Evelyn looked at him puzzled. Laughing, she shook her head. “No!”

Surprised, he gave a fake gasp. “No!? Did you at least throw it on the roof!?”

“No!” she laughed harder, swinging around his legs. “Mr. Shelby is silly-”

“Silly!?” Tommy grabbed her and spun her around so she’d look at him. His gloved hands held her rosy cheeks. “Well, surely you buried it in the garden, eh?”

“No! Mr. Shelby, Mama says the tooth fairy will visit tonight-”

“A fairy?! No, you don’t be inviting fairies to your home, now do you?”

“Mr. Shelby! The tooth fairy gives you money when you lose a tooth,”  she explained. “They are kind….”

He didn’t comment further, not wanting to show his Romani ways. But it was foolish in his opinion. You always did one of three things with teeth; throw them in the fire, bury them, or throw them on a roof. But for fucks sake, you don’t offer it to a fairy. Not that he really believed in fairies. Tommy walked the girl towards the bustle and hustle. Every so often he smiled down at her. 

Their hands entwined as they walked. He noticed they were definitely sticky with something. He was afraid to inquire about the last time she had a proper washing; hair matted, dirt spotted face, and he hated to think it, but she was a bit stinky. He walked her towards the Garrison, which would have a healthy amount of patrons. Usual; drunk and slightly rowdy. But there was a small back room with a sink. 

“I thought you told me pubs aren’t for little girls-”

Tommy walked through the double doors, instantly gaining a mix of looks and respect from the men. He dragged her off before anyone could stop him, slipping into a back room. It was quiet, simple, and had a little wash station. A sink with some towels.  “C’mere, love,” he said, as she tried to peek back out in the main hall. Tommy chuckled to himself, shutting the door, kneeling. His index finger tilted her chin for she’d look at him. Their smiles met and he leaned in. “Don’t be so nosey. Hm? C’mere. Sit on the chair.” 

As she situated herself in the chair, her feet  dangling inches off the ground. Tommy bustled around the room, putting the bag on the table then immediately remembering the shoes, and placing it on the ground instead. Lucky for him he was able to find a clean rag, some soap, and a gentlemen’s pick comb. Evelyn puffed out her cheeks, watching him walk back and forth, talking to himself like a mad man. “Will we color, Mr. Shelby?”

He paused, hanging up his coat. “Eh?!’ Blinking, taking a moment to realize what she asked. “Oh, color? Hmm, perhaps one day. But Mr. Shelby bought you something from the shoppe-”

“The shoppe!?” her eyes widened, feeling her cheeks warm up. Never had the girl ever gotten a present from a real shoppe. Only the charity ones. She looked over at the bag, but waited politely. Tommy kneeled at her with a wet soapy rag. Studying her shoes that barely had any soles left to them and were a bit too small, he took them off and chucked them to the side. She wore no tights, no socks, and her little feet were blistered, red, sweaty, and dirty. 

“I’m going to wash your feet,” he said, framing it as a question, waiting for her to nod. When she did, he gently held up one foot, rubbing the warm, soapy cloth along the sole, scrubbing. “Ticklish?” he asked, cleaning between the toes. Her little foot twitched and she giggled, slouching a bit in the chair. The last time Tommy washed a child’s foot was when Ada was young. To be funny, Evelyn leaned back and poked his nose with her big toe, abrupting in a rather large, obnoxious giggle. Tommy tilted back, pushing it away kindly, but definitely grabbing it a bit stronger.

Tommy watched his expression, but gave her a stern look. “How about I put my stinky toe in your face? Hm?”  Her smile dropped slightly. “It wouldn’t be very kind, now would it?” She shook her head and averted her attention to the side. There was a little pang in his gut; guilt. Not something Mr. Shelby, the Devil of Birmingham, felt often. His face softened. “Eh!” he said, reaching with a wet hand pinching her cheek. 

Whining, she pushed his hand away. “I don’t like that….” 

“And I don’t like your little feet in my nose,” he said, pointedly before going back to cleaning her feet, noting that she had been so neglected, there were dry patches of dirt around her ankles that just refused to scrub off without a scrub. When he got all he could off, he reached over for the bag, pulling out a pile of socks. She watched them, still wearing a pouty little face until she noticed the pink ones.

“Annie in my school has pink socks,” she said.

“And now Evelyn has pink socks,” he said, grunting a bit as he pulled out the box. 

Evelyn narrowed her eyes, straightening up, but trying not to see, overly excited. He opened it, pushing aside the abundance of tissue paper. Inside, a pair of new Mary Janes shined. The little buckle glimmering under the light. This overwhelming feeling overcame her, and she couldn’t describe it. All she knew was that she wanted to cry. And it made no sense to a little girl. Crying meant you were sad and laughing meant you were happy. If she was so happy, why did want to cry? He pulled out the shoes and measured them to her feet.

“Mr. Shelby bought me shoes,” she whispered, her bottom lip quivering. 

Tommy smiled, undoing the buckles. “They’re school shoes, love. That means you have to go to school to wear them.” But he knew she’d wear them through puddles, in the mud, and even in a landfill if given the chance. At least they had proper soles. He wiggled on her foot and then the other. “There you are, lo-.” He paused, looking up. She tried so hard to hold back her tears, but they dripped from her eyes anyway. Reaching his hand out, he massaged her reddening cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears. “I hope you’re crying because you have to go to school! There isn’t a single girl in Birmingham that cries over a new pair of shoes…now come on, love, get up and see how they feel, eh?”

She hopped off the chair, holding his hand, wiping her face with the other. They felt nice. How shoes were supposed to feel. With enough room to wiggle her toes. He commented about having to wear socks with them the next time. Evelyn looked down at them, smiling bright and large, shimmying in them. “Mr. Shelby! I can dance in them…look!” She did a little cha, cha, cha! And a spin, spin, spin. Then looked at him. “They’re perfect!” Before Tommy could say a thing, she tackled him into a hug, wrapping her arms tightly. Her little tears wetting his vest. It took him a second to comprehend his next move, his hands hovering over her back. When her eyes fluttered up, looking at him with absolute admiration, he hugged her back. 

In a small voice, she said, “I will never lose my new shoes, Mr. Shelby. I’ll even wear ‘em to bed, in the bath, to the toilet, to the kitchen—I’m gonna wear my new shoes everywhere.”  Then I’ll be buying you a new pair soon, won’t I? He thought a bit sarcastically, gently nudging her back. “Will you be okay walking home by yourself?” The sun still had some time. Evelyn held his hand through the busy pub, trying her best not to get lost in the midst of people. Once at the door, he kneeled, pinching at her cheek. Evelyn walked backwards waving, until she hit the end. At that point, they had to separate. Tommy nodded and when she turned, he felt for the picture, smiling.

[phyrestartr]

Baby Crazy | Miguel x F!Reader

Miguel x Symbiote Host!Reader W/C: 1.8k

#SFW, mentions of trauma, mentions of past miscarriage, new beginnings, Miguel has baby fever, established relationship, fluff, comfort

Note: I'm trying to finish up and move on from a bunch of WIPs I have cluttering up my docs, so that's why I'm rapid-fire posting LOL. I have so many that are nearly done bro it's driving me insane!!!

--

Something changed.

This hadn't happened before, the way he was acting, the way he was feeling. Everything around him, anything that even slightly hinted at kids, triggered the frenzy in Miguel’s brain; if Peter showed up at HQ with May in his arms, Miguel had a hard time leaving the room and ignoring them because–yes he wanted to hold her, god dammit, hand her over already, Parker.

Then there were the instances with Jess on missions; any time she got whipped around, Miguel flew to her in an instant, asking if the baby was okay before asking if Jess was okay. He knew they were both fine, but–but still.

And, Christ, when you held a baby, and that stoicism lifted from your beautiful face? It killed Miguel, made him fall even more in love with you if that was even possible. 

Fuck. He was so, so doomed. 

He'd never seen you so soft before. Just that little glimpse of your maternal instincts, your quiet gentility, dyed your partner’s blood in bright hues of hope and wonder. Because you were a hardened woman, someone the universe took great pleasure in beating on time after time. It was a wonder love could still find a home inside your bruised heart. Miguel had been there to see you before it all, and held you through most of the downfall, and when he’d missed things, you filled in the gaps for him; you were his greatest confidant, ranking high in Miguel’s mind with Lyla and Gabriel. 

You'd been there since the beginning as a cool, calm, collected reporter that'd do just about anything to get the next story for the papers. Miguel found you incredibly aggravating, and he would have had much less patience for you if he hadn't wanted to get in bed with you so much. And as it turned out, your insatiable curiosities would come to bite you in the ass as much as it would foster your bond to the scientist; you would become host to the symbiote, and he would become spliced with spider genetics. 

Spiderman. Venom. 

Who else could you turn to but each other? Who else would understand what it felt like to change in a split second, to endure what it meant to change? 

You'd both done your damndest to take it in stride, and now here you were, too many years later, stuck to each other like glue and hardened off into something hurt and impenetrable that just now started to ease into something soft and malleable. Miguel found he loved it. He loved you. 

And, shit, he wanted a goddamn baby with you. 

He watched you from the couch while you loitered in the kitchen, hair a mess and oversized sleep shirt hanging lazily off one shoulder as you willed yourself to get a pot of coffee going. Rosy eyes glanced down to your stomach. How tight would that shirt get when you were nine months? And what if you had twins? Miguel had confidence in himself, he figured he had the power to put two babies in you at once. Easy. No problem. Definitely doable and–

"Miguel?" You called from the kitchen with a croaky, groggy voice.

"Baby?" He blurted, the fever in his mind overtaking his mouth and sabotaging what he tried to say. 

You stared at Miguel as heat rose to his face. He didn't call you "baby." You didn't call him "baby." You had a right to be suspicious. And because you were you, you continued to stare, and stare, and stare like it was some kind of punishment done to make Miguel squirm in his seat (which succeeded). 

"I–uh, shit, sorry. You–say again?" 

You stared at him. 

"(Name), for the love of–stop, just stop. Please," he more or less begged as he rubbed his face. Maybe he could rub away the red staining his cheeks if he tried hard enough. 

"Hm." You collected the two mugs of coffee you'd prepared during Miguel's daydream, and brought them to the couch. "You've been thinking about babies a lot." 

Miguel took the mug with a soft thanks. "Well, it's hard not to with Jess and Peter around," Miguel deflected. 

You slipped your legs across his lap and leaned against the arm of the couch. "Mh." You sipped your coffee and held it with both hands to warm your chilled fingers. "Do you want–" 

"I think so." He looked at you, eyes big with a maelstrom of nerves and excitement dancing behind them as sparks fluttered in his chest. "Do you?" 

Your head tilted just slightly as you looked him over. "Mhm. Wanna do it now?" 

Miguel's palm magnetized to your thigh and squeezed. "Well, I think we've got time."

“Okay.” Miguel smirked and started to feel up your leg, his fingers dipping into the sleep shorts you wore. But then, you took out your phone, and paid no mind to his lustful touches. “What do you want?”

Miguel blinked. “What?” 

You stared at him again. “For breakfast.” 

“Oh.” 

“Mh.” You fidgeted with your phone between your fingers for a moment. “Oh. Did you…think I was talking about–?”

“No,” Miguel interjected. “I–I just thought you–maybe just–I, well. Maybe?” He swallowed and drummed his fingers against your leg. “Have you…thought about it?” 

The question held weight; he knew you’d thought about it, knew you lamented over it, even, because you lost a child just as he had. The memories swirling in your mind never rose to the surface, never burned into the history of the outside world, but Miguel knew they were there. He knew a late-term miscarriage could never be forgotten. 

“Mmh…” You slipped your legs off his lap and made slow work of tucking them into your sleepshirt, making yourself a blob. A very cute, sleepy blob. “We’ve thought about it,” you admitted, but didn’t expand. It gave Miguel hope, though. Clearly you’d mulled it over with your other half. 

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded. 

Your partner nodded. His hand found its way onto the bump of your knee, and his thumb rubbed curious circles against you as he exercised patience, like a puppy sitting and waiting for a treat. You watched his hand on you, quietly admiring the veins and tendons proudly pushing against his skin, and the shift of muscle dancing under his movements as he soothed you.

“Are you ready?” You wondered softly. One of your hands slipped from your mug in favour of resting over his. “For a baby.” 

Miguel chewed his cheek for a moment and watched your hand, too, like avoiding each other’s gaze would somehow quash the trepidation, make it easier to admit what you both wanted and what you both feared. But Miguel, the man who didn’t always like what he had to do but knew what he had to do, bit the bullet and found your eyes. Your beautiful, perfect eyes. Maybe your shared joy would have them, too. 

“Yeah.” He scooted into your space and caressed your warm cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “If it’s with you,” he said, and turned his hand to cup your cheek with his palm, “I’m sure.”

The still, placid look of you melted, just the slightest bit, under the incalescence of your lover’s touch. Your lovely lips twitched a fraction, but the true smile, the one Miguel craved to see day after day, glowed in the colour of your eyes. 

“Hm.” You hummed softly as you nodded, thinking and deliberating with your other half. Your gaze wandered away from Miguel and to the side slowly, to the side she whispered in the most. Your eyes fluttered, then, gaze recentering and focusing on Miguel in front of you again. 

“Well?” He tucked some hair behind your ear only for you to un-tuck that same piece. Miguel tucked it back again, and this time, you let him. “What’s the jury say?”

You took a deep breath, and nodded. “We think we’re ready,” you murmured. You caught his hand and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, treating him like the princess you knew he was. “If it’s with you, we’re sure.” And this time, you gave him a smile. 

Miguel’s heart erupted. His boyish grin hit you with the concentrated power of the sun before he all but dove into you, crushing you with a hug, and spilling coffee everywhere. You made some sort of strange noise, something between laughter and panic, as you fumbled with the mugs and set them down wherever you could while Miguel peppered you with affection. He kissed your de-blobbed body, first your collarbone and then between your breasts. He nuzzled there before taking a deep, deep breath of your scent and sighing, content.

“You’re weird,” you said as you carded your hands through his hair while he basked in the glory of your chest. 

He pulled his face out of heaven and rested his chin between the girls as he gazed up at you, eyes bleeding adoration and excitement. “Oh, what, I’m not allowed to be excited for a baby?” 

You pinched his nose and watched him scrunch up his face and suffer. “You’re just weird.” Your mean fingers found his eyebrows and pulled them. “I’m excited, too. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.” You let go of the hairs and smoothed them over with your thumbs. “About trying again.” 

That had Miguel’s attention. “You never mentioned it.” He tilted his head, resting his cheek against one plushy mound as he listened. 

“I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t know if I should.” You dragged your nails against Miguel’s scalp, and he closed his eyes with a pleased sigh. “I’m glad you did.”

Miguel hummed warmly. “Guess we were both a little scared, huh? Hah. Venom and Spiderman, afraid to talk about the future. Who woulda thought.” He picked his head up to look you in the eyes. “But at least that’s out of the way now.” 

“Mh. Now you can stop complaining about using condoms,” You said, deadpan. 

“I–you–look, you don’t get it–”

“Hm.”

“It feels different. Better. Like a real connection–”

“Hmm.” 

“And–okay, fine, I’d rather not have a shitty layer of rubber between me and you. What’s so wrong with that?” 

“Hmmm.”

“Vieja,” Miguel pleaded. 

You smiled, soft and quiet like drifting petals. “Like I said, you won’t need to complain about them anymore. Not for a while, anyway.”

Miguel bit your tit lightly, and you flicked his forehead. “Why don’t we not-complain right now?” 

“Hm.” 

“We have time to start round one of baby-making, yeah?” His smile, dangerous and hungry, split across his features again as his hands wandered up and under your shirt teasingly. “If we knock you up now, we’ll have a kid born in…what, February? Good start to a new year.” 

You thought about it more seriously than Miguel thought you would, if the narrowing of your brows and a sudden prolonged silence told him anything. You were probably mulling over the zodiacs for that month, though, deciding if you liked them enough to go for it. Even with your serious take on things, you still loved your astrology. 

“Hm. Okay.” But you plucked your phone off the ground and turned the menu you’d pulled up to Miguel. “Food first. Baby-making after.” 

He nodded. “Deal.”

[wifetomanyfictionalmen]

“Wait me?”

Ray Stantz X reader ficlet

Warnings; none just toof rotting floof

————————

You had an extensive education. Psychology, science (physics, biology and chemistry) aswell as some more ‘niche’ studies including neuroscience and parapsychology. You had quite a deep understanding of the paranormal and occult, seeing it as nothing but a hobby, but when the Ghostbusters come around you realize you could actually make use of your PhDs and knowledge.

You stood infront of the tall and rundown building looking back at the paper. Yup this was the place, old Fire station. You peeked in before stepping in and going over to the reception desk. A dark red haired female looked up at you and she gave you a confused look before you explained why you were there

“I’m here about a job..I believe I can be of assistance to the Ghostbusters, I have proof of my PhDs and exam results..”

She hummed and turned around yelling for someone a man, no taller than you, pelted out of his office and vaulted over the border between the back room and reception. You recognized him as Peter Venkman. You’d never met him personally but you’d heard from students he’d had.

“Well hello, how can I help?” Peter gave you that signature smile and you rose a brow, how did women actually fall for him..shaking your head gently you held out the envelope containing all your certificates

“I’d like a job” your voice was surprisingly firm despite how shaky you felt. Peter looked it over and hummed impressed before smiling holding a hand out toward you. “Welcome to the Ghostbusters, follow me and Dr Stantz can get you all situated” you nodded and followed him as they reached some sort of garage. A pretty beaten up car was sat with the bonnet up and it looked as if someone was working on it, a small radio blasted out rock music, Peter turned the radio off.

“Ray! We have a new recruit walk them through the proton packs and stuff will you” he walked off before the poor man could answer. You gave him an awkward smile and wave. Ray wiped his hands and held it out, which you shook with a smile.

“Ray Stantz, I’ll try to explain the whole proton pack thing but we haven’t even had a test run of them yet” he rubbed the back of his neck. You chuckled and smiled gently waving it off “It’s fine Dr Stantz honestly, I’m just happy Dr Venkman took me on..”

He smiled gently “please call me Ray” he led you to the storage room where the suits and packs were kept. He explained it briefly, it peaked your interested quite a bit and you took in every word he said. You’d always been the same, attentive, friendly and hardworking.

It didn’t take long for you and your fellow ghostbusters to actually gain popularity, after the hotel everything seemed to be smooth sailing. Most of your time was spent in the lab with Egon and Ray, or in the garage with Ray. Venkman usually left you two alone in the garage teasing he didn’t want to interrupt two lovers bonding. You found it funny that he’d say that, considering you’d had a massive crush on Rag since day one, and little did you know that Ray felt the same.

Time seemed to fly by, you, Ray and Egons researched revealed more about Dana’s apartment and you and Ray spent even more time than you had previously. You had to confess but you were so scared. And she panicked when she was called and found out Ray and the others had been jailed. She rushed to the police station and told them you were also a Ghostbuster and if they were jailed you should be to.

Admittedly Ray found that downright attractive that you’d put yourself up there proudly claiming you were a Ghostbuster. Shortly after you were called in to the Mayors office. You stayed silent while the madman that had turned the grid off ranged (Egon had filled you in) and you hummed “Hold on. If what you’re saying is correct then it’s your fault, you turned off the grid releasing all the spirits and ghouls onto New York. And not to mention you blatantly ignored Dr Venkman”

The other four looked at you surprised and you turned to the Mayor “Now id listened to my colleagues before the whole of New York is destroyed and plunged into darkness” you stepped back and stood beside Ray his eyes never leaving you. God his heart was pounding even faster for you. Once the Mayor finally agreed offered a lending hand all five of them set off in the Ecto 1.

Fighting Gozer wasn’t easy, nor was it fun. Venkman taunting said cursed spirit. After Ray accidentally summoned a huge Stay Puft you stood beside him and fought bravely. With Stay Puft defeated and the gate closed you stood up with a groan covered in Mallow fluff. You were hugged by an equally covered Rays and you both laughed. After the two entrapped by the Keymaster and Gatekeeper you and the others headed down. You were holding Rays hand and he looked at you as people cheered.

What happened next you didn’t expect to happen at all, Ray tilted your hand up and kissed you gently. Your eyes widened before you melted into the kiss as everyone cheered, you swore you heard Venkman yell at Egon about owing him.

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Wrong One

Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader met Steve while he was on the run and stood behind him through everything. Until he saw Peggy Carter.

Chapter 12: Moving Again

Warnings: swearing, angst

While they felt some relief at Steve accepting some responsibility for this mess, Y/N couldn't help but over think and worry.

"You know, it would have been better if Steve had just come and talked to us instead of getting the press involved. I mean, now the world knows there's a super soldier baby and the press knows where I live. I doubt it would be hard to figure out where she is." She ranted

"I don't trust Steve's motives, going straight to the press seems, I don't know, questionable. Like he's more concerned with salvaging his reputation with the public than actually trying to accept responsibility."

She thought for a moment. "I hate thinking like this but what if we gave Winnie a tracker chip? I mean, I might be paranoid but that way we could always find her. In case Steve or whoever tried something."

Bucky nodded "That might not be a bad idea. Now that he's confirmed everything to the world, those bad actors that are building Hydra, and other criminal organizations, back up might come looking."

He paused for a moment, nervous to broach the subject "Do you think your place is really safe? I mean, now that it's public knowledge."

She growled at him "You know we wouldn't be in the position if you and Sam could keep your mouths shut. What kind of spies can't keep one damn secret?" Her voice rose at the end and Winnie whined "Oh no baby, I'm so sorry. Your father and uncles are just dumbasses."

Bucky looked at his feet "I know, doll. I'm so sorry and plan to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I didn't think Steve would cause so many problems but I never thought he would leave you for Peggy without even telling you so I don't seem to be the best judge of who he is these days. I'll do whatever I can to fix this."

She sighed "I don't know, Bucky, you may be right.  My house might not be the safest place anymore. I need to talk to Pepper. Before I go home."

She sent a text to her friend to stop by and visit when she had the time.

They spent most of the day relaxing and bonding with Winnie. She gave Bucky smiles when she heard his voice and Y/N had never seen him light up like when she did.

Pepper stopped by at dinner time, followed by Happy who carried a number of take out bags from her favorite steak house.

Pepper set down a huge arrangement of pink roses in a crystal vase and gave them a big smile. "Look at this happy little family. We have to have some pictures done." She turned to Happy "Can you see if Peter can come by tomorrow and get some pictures?"

Happy nodded "Of course. She's beautiful."

Y/N smiled and thanked him.

Pepper set out food and made a plate for Y/N, trading Winnie between them.

While they ate, Y/N brought up her concerns about security. Pepper had seen Steves presser and had been concerned herself.

After thinking for a few minutes Pepper figured it out. "I know you don't want to move again but I think Bucky is right, your place has been exposed but I think I have a solution" she smiled "On the same property where Morgan and I are living, there's another cabin. 3 bedrooms and a fully updated kitchen, like my cabin. It's been empty for a bit so needs to be cleaned and the security would need upgrading. It's on the other side of the lake so you'd be close but still have your privacy."

She looked to Happy "Can you make some calls and get that started?"

Happy nodded and left the room.

Pepper started cleaning up their food "You should stay here in the Tower until the cabin is ready. Shouldn't be more than a week and you'll be safe here. We can take care of the move so you don't have to deal with all that."

"Pepper, I don't know how to thank you. It's so much."

Pepper shook her head "Then don't worry about it. I'm glad to help and the cabin has just been sitting there gathering dust." She smirked at Y/N "Besides, it'll be nice to have a sitter close by."

Y/N grinned "I don't know how soon I'll be up for babysitting a kid as active as Morgan but yeah, when I'm healed. Of course."

That evening Steve came by again obviously pleased with himself "Did you see it? I fixed everything so we can be happy together again."

He picked Winnie up from her bassinet, waking her up.

Bucky wanted to mention that Winnie had just fallen asleep but bit his tongue and watched to see how Steve would handle her.

Y/N shook her head "No, Steve. We won't be together again. I thought I made that clear. And while I appreciate your attempt to make things right, now everyone knows for sure there's a super soldier baby and the press knows where I live. My house won't be safe for us anymore."

Steve smiled brightly "You can stay with me. I'll protect you both." Winnie wasn't happy about being woken up and started squirming in his arms.

She sighed "It's like talking to a brick wall. No Steve we're done. I have a place to go but will be staying in the Tower until it's ready."

His smile fell "Where is it? I can go make sure it's secure." Winnie started fussing, not familiar with the scent or voice of the person holding her.

Bucky spoke up "I don't think that's a good idea. We will be here for now and can meet here for visits after that. The fewer people who know where they live the better."

Steve bristled "Why can't I ever talk to Y/N without you butting into something that's none of your damn business? You are always with her like some pathetic puppy." Winnie felt the tension and started bawling, trying to push away from him.

Bucky glared at him "It's my business because I've been here when you weren't" he quickly took Winnie from Steve and she calmed right away for him which only upset Steve more.

"She won't get used to me if you don't let me hold her." Steve snapped. "You won't let me hold her, won't tell me where they're moving to. Seems like you're working pretty hard to keep my daughter away from me. I thought we were all going to be adults about this."

Bucky smiled down at Winnie who gave him a big, drool filled, toothless grin. "You don't need to be holding her when you're all wound up like that. The rest is for their safety"

He took her hand and planted a raspberry on her palm and she laughed at him. He whispered softly "That's my girl."

Steve clenched his jaw, angry and frustrated at his own daughter preferring his friend over him. He sat on a chair in the corner of the room and sulked.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him acting like a baby but kept her mouth shut.

The next week was relatively calm. Steve stayed in the Tower too and did everything he could to get Y/N and Winnie alone. Bucky's presence alone was enough to upset Steve. He was still angry about Bucky's bond with Winnie and the tension didn't help her like him any better. He also refused to change diapers at all, something about it being womans work and even mocked Bucky for doing anything Y/N or Winnie needed.

Y/N had a discussion with Helen Cho and a tracking chip was implanted on Winnie. She only cried for a moment.

Finally it was time to move into her new house. They waited until Steve was out of town for the day in the hopes of keeping the location secret from him.

Y/N had a feeling he was closer than she wanted and would find out where she was living before too long.

Y/N was overwhelmed at the cabin. It was perfectly rustic on the outside but had every possible convenience inside. The interior was freshly painted and most of her furniture had been moved already.

Once they were settled in and everyone else had gone Y/N and Bucky took Winnie to sit on the swing that took up half of the front porch. All they could hear were crickets and frogs with the occasional owl or other bird chiming in. The sky was clear and full of stars that Winnie was staring and pointing at as Bucky named the constellations for her.

Life was relatively quiet for a few months. Bucky helped Sam on missions when needed but was always anxious to get home to his girls.

Winnie was growing quickly, already trying to crawl and getting into everything.

Y/N healed quickly and worked the baby weight off chasing after a baby that shouldn't be so mobile yet.

Y/N and Bucky were cautiously taking baby steps towards each other although they hadn't done anything more than some heated making out.

Steve finally learned how to change a diaper, since Y/N insisted he learn how to care for Winnie properly before he was allowed to take her on his own.

When she was 6 months old Steve had finally learned how to change and feed her well enough that Y/N was convinced he could care for Winnie on his own. That didn't dispel her concerns that he might try to disappear with Winnie but Y/N started letting him take her for a few hours or even an entire day but not overnight.

One weekend when Winnie was almost 8 months old, and trying to walk, Steve came to take her for the afternoon but promised to have her back before her bedtime at 7pm.

Y/N and Bucky went on a date to a nice restaurant where they were in their own little bubble for a little while. When her alarm went off they hurried to meet Steve at the tower only to find he wasn't there yet, even though they were almost 20 minutes late. Y/N tried not to panic.

Bucky squeezed her hand "I'm sure they got caught up in traffic or something. Steve was always a stickler for punctuality so I'm sure he will be here soon."

Y/N nodded hesitantly, it had taken a lot of time and counseling for her to trust Steve with Winnie away from her. She laughed nervously "I know, we've been doing this for 2 months and he's always here on time so maybe I should trust him but it's hard and she's everything to me."

"I know doll, just give him a little longer and she'll be back in your arms where she belongs." Bucky tried to reassure her even though he was getting nervous too.

When she looked up and saw it was over an hour since their scheduled time, Y/N started to panic.

Bucky tried to soothe her with little success so decided to call Steve and see what was holding him up. His heart stopped when the recording told him the number was no longer available.

Y/N looked to him hopefully but her stomach fell when she saw the look on his face "What's wrong Buck?"

He shook his head and stammered "Says the number isn't available."

Her eyes grew and tears started to gather right away. "No, no, he wouldn't hhe he promised. Maybe he blocked you or..." She tore through her purse in a panic, looking for her own phone. Maybe she missed his call.

When she found her phone she saw there were no calls or messages and quickly hit Steve's name on her contacts. Bucky knew from her face that she got the same recording and he pulled her close.

He was going to kill Steve when he found him.

Chapter 13

[imagineanime2022]

Demon Partner *Part 2*

Sebastian Michaelis X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 980

This technically wasn’t a request but there was a comment on the first part from @lonelystarsstuff that got me thinking thus this was born.

*Part 1*

You felt the pain arc down your neck through your chest to settle where your heart was and your eyes widened as you felt the fracture in the bond that you shared with Sebastian, you took a deep breath as the pain rose to almost unbearable before seeming the peter out. “I-!” Grelle braged her way into your shop, she seemed to appear everyday with a new plan to steal your husband but the more time she spent around you the more she liked you, that was why seeing you doubled over hands pressed against the counter made her worried. “Hey what’s going on!?” “I’ll kill him!” You growled out. “W-what?” Grelle asked as he watched you head twisted to the side, noticing the mark on your neck seemed aggravated almost like someone and damaged the skin around it. “Has something happened with Bassy?” “Cheating crow!” You cursed as you threw the ring he had gotten you across the shop. “I sense I’ve walked into something.” Grelle said, stepping backwards towards the door. “I’ll kill him, then you can take whatever you want from him.” You said flipping the sign with your magic to say that the shop was closed before making your way into the back where you had stashed your weapon, a scythe you had stolen from a previous reaper. “That’s a death scythe!” Grelle’s eyes widened as she stepped in front of you. “That will kill him.” “Uh huh.” You grunted. “Maybe you should think about this.” She suggested hands moving frantically. “How long would you suggest that I think about this?” You asked leaning your weight on the weapon as you looked at her. “Look, just see if he comes to talk to you first…” She said and you looked at her and dropped the scythe letting it hit the floor with an aggressive slam as you walked back towards the front of the shop because you weren’t sure that you were ready to see him anyway.

It took 2 days for Sebastian to show his face in your small shop, you were sitting at the counter and it served you well that there was no one in there at the time, you took one of the knives that you were supposed to be selling and throwing it at his face, he caught it between his fingers, the impassive look on his face was giving rise to the anger that had sat dormant “That was rather violent.” He finally said as he put the knife down on the closest surface before beginning his slow approach to you. “I’ll tell you what was violent, the sudden and unbearable pain that preceded the knowledge that you cheated.” You glared at him and he grimaced almost as if he was sorry for what he put you through, his eyes wandered to what looked like red raw skin around the bond mark on your neck and the missing ring. “I didn’t want to do it.” He said. “You didn’t have to do it. You're a demon.” You reminded him as he stepped closer still. “I needed information, she wasn’t even my type.” He smirked as he looked down at you and you growled. “Your type?” You answered moving back and away from him as he caught your arm. “Mhm she wasn’t my type, she was a meek little nun not a fiery little demoness.” He muttered pulling you so that you were chest to chest with him. “A nun?” You asked. “She only made me long for you.” He promised as he lifted you to sit on the counter in front of him pulling his glove off with his teeth to press his marked hand to the burning skin on your neck and it was like someone had pressed ice to the burning skin, you closed your eyes in relief. “I am sorry that you suffered this pain.” “Then don’t break a binding vow.” Your eyes opened fuschia eyes to match his glowing brightly as he nosed over the mark on your neck before pressing soft kisses there, it was in the moment that your anger finally calmed because he had come back to you, given your age you had walked away from each other many times but this was the first and hopefully last time that something like this would happen, you weren’t willing to give him up for one mistake in your thousands of years together but you would make him for forgiveness he didn’t know he already had. “It won’t happen again.” He said as he nipped at the skin on your neck before dropping to his knee in front of you and pressing his ungloved hand to his chest “do you accept my apology and request to start again?” You gently push your hand through his hair before yanking it back so that he was looking at you. “Next time I’ll kill you… That’s a promise.” You warned him and he smirked pushing up and pressing a fierce kiss to your lips. “I’d let you.” He breathed out, reconnecting your lips and pulling your body flush against him. “I have some making up to do.” “What of your master?” You asked. “He can do without me for a little while.” Sebastian said lowly. “A little while?” You asked. “Behave yourself.” Sebastian nipped at your ear. “We both know that’s not what you want.” You said your lips next to his ear, he growled his eyes glowing pink as they connected with yours. “Don’t test me darling.” He warned, you flipped the sign to ‘closed’ on the door as he raised an eyebrow. “If you apologize correctly, I shouldn’t be able to open this shop for the rest of the day.” You smirked and he lifted you with no effort at all. “As you wish my lady.” He said carrying you to the back of the shop.

Request Here!!

[aplacetosharemyfics]

Last Holiday: Jesse's Headache

Jesse leant against the wall as she waited for the lift. Her head was still spinning. Earlier, when she was preparing to head down to the dining room with Georgia, the room had suddenly swum concerningly. Thankfully, her companion had accepted the muttered excuse and headed down first.

The room had stopped shifting after a few minutes, and after a few more, Jesse had felt confident enough to try standing.

“Are you all right, Miss Byrd?”

Jesse jumped. The voice had come from behind her. Still holding onto the wall, Jesse turned to find Miss Gunther observing her with her famous unimpressed smile.

“I …”

The lift arrived, emitting a little ping as the doors slid open.

“I’m fine,” Jesse quickly muttered, jumping into the lift and ramming her thumb against the close door button.

As the doors slid close, Miss Gunther’s eyebrow slowly rose.

Jesse sighed in relief as the lift started descending. It shook slightly, and the dizziness seemed to morph into nausea. Bracing herself against the wall, Jesse leaned her head back and tried not to think about food. She made a mental note to take the stairs back up after dinner. Anything to avoid the lift. If it weren’t for the (presumably) busy lobby that the lift doors would open onto, she’d have been huddled on the floor.

No one paid her any attention at she finally left the lift, hightailing it to the dining room. Her balance was still not quite restored. She paused in the entrance of the dining room, holding onto the doorway, to stare at the packed tables. Which of the fabulous outfits had Georgia decided to wear tonight? The purple one? Blue.

“Miss Byrd?” A waiter appeared at her side. “Chef Didier reserved your party a special table.”

Jesse nodded, thankful that the waiter didn’t comment on the way she’d jumped, and followed him through the sea of tables until she caught sight of familiar face.

“You just in time,” Georgia welcomed her with open arms. “Chef Didier is preparing a special menu for us.”

“With no substitutions,” Senator Dillings added, earning him a nervous chuckle from the table.

Jesse hid a smile and sat down, enjoying the feeling of being off her feet.

Dishes started to arrive, one after another, each tastier then the last. Chef Didier appeared with each round, explaining the finer details of the dish as they ate with much enthusiasm. He didn’t mind when she couldn’t finish an entire serving of glazed ham, but stared down the Congressman until he’d finished every last pea on his plate.

“That was delicious.”

The table leant back in their chairs, satisfactorily stuffed. For Jesse, the nausea and dizziness of earlier had completely disappeared when faced with Chef Didier’s food.

“So, Georgia,” Kragen started, “Ms Burns tells me you’re in retail.”

Jesse shifted her napkin to the table. The good mood had been broken.

"I was.”

Georgia smiled at him with a bemused expression, not fazed by the sudden question.

“Well, you’ve obviously done very well for yourself.”

Jesse swallowed. It felt like all the delicious food were starting to come back up.

“Actually, I just clipped a lot of coupons,” Georgia laughed.

Jesse looked at the table. Peter had never let her use coupons — he thought it made them look cheap. Occasionally, when the price gouging on some of Peter’s favourite foods had gotten too extreme, she’d snuck one or two along on her shopping trips. There was one time when she’d managed to buy a packet of chocolate biscuits for nothing, and snuck them to Kragen’s with her, sharing them around the ladies in her department.

“And when you say coupons,” Kragen pushed, “you obviously mean bonds?”

“No. No, I sold all my bonds.”

“You sold all your bonds?” Congressman Stewart sat up straighter in his seat. “Miss Byrd, as Chairman of the Commerce Committee, I’m always interested in how savvy people such as yourself operate the market.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “Did you think that rates were going up, or were you pessimistic about the future?”

Jesse fiddled with the tablecloth. She didn’t know Georgia had sold her bonds. In fact, she’d never questioned how Georgia had gotten her money. She bit her lip. Peter had some bonds — he said they were barely worth the paper they were written on.

“Well, Congressman —” Georgia started.

“Bob, please. Bob.”

“Well, Bob, I think that the future is too depressing to think about.”

Jesse nodded. She’d forgotten after the brilliant dinner, but the dizzy spell upstairs only confirmed that her end was coming soon. The doctor had given her a list of symptoms to look out for, signs that things were getting worse. Dizziness was the first.

“Miss Byrd,” Ms Burns interjected, “what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Hold on, hold on,” Kragen jumped in before Georgia answered. “You see, tomorrow I’ve arranged for our group to go to Moser.”

It didn’t get the reception he’d expected.

“Moser!” he tried again. “Glass. Factory. All of us. Special tour! That’s what we’re doing tomorrow.”

Georgia waited for him to finish with that same bemused expression, before turning to Ms Burns.

“To answer your question, I’m going Base-jumping.”

Jesse straightened up. She hadn’t heard about this. At least, she realised, Georgia had only said that she was Base-jumping.

“You’re kidding!” Senator Dillings cried in amazement. “Why?”

“Well,” Georgia considered. “I hear it’s a complete liberating experience. Well, at least, that’s what the brochure says.”

Jesse swallowed. All those brochures on Georgia’s bed. She’d thought they were more spa treatments.

“Oh, come on, Matthew,” Ms Burns pleaded, “why don’t we all go along and watch?”

“That sound like fun! Let’s do that.”

“That is a great idea. Better than some glass factory.”

Jesse slowly breathed out. At least she wouldn’t be alone watching Georgia. She glanced at Kragen. All though the praising of Georgia, he had sat and fumed.

“Fine, fine, fine,” he said, with an extra glare in Georgia’s direction. “But I’m not going there to watch.”

[eli-t-spoon]

Just wanted to post the opening to my current WIP, Rose & Thorn. Any suggestions on improving it would be super helpful 🥺

####

Storms raged, both outside the walls and within Bethany’s heart. She had lost count of how often she had wished she had somewhere else to go, anywhere that she would be accepted or at least left alone. Her parents had tried, when she was younger, but since reaching adulthood even they had stepped back and turned away when others pushed her around. She was the mistake, the useless one, the worthless creature that didn’t belong here.

Using spells against another community member was forbidden, thankfully, but that had never stopped them using lies and manipulation, even the occasional fist. The leaders did nothing, choosing to take the word of more valuable people than her, telling her she deserved it if she wasn’t going to make an attempt to fit in. There was no escape, even at home, where her infinitely more talented sister went out of her way to make Bethany’s life as miserable as possible.

“Hey wretch, get out here. You know my ceremony is tonight and I won’t have you ruin it with this pathetic little tantrum. Make yourself as presentable as you can, if there’s anything in your dresser that covers up those disgusting lumps of fat.”

Of course. Kara’s ceremony of binding to her chosen life partner, Peter. Another of the generation she had grown up with, the ones who had pulled endless pranks that inevitably left her bruised, bleeding, half-drowned or dangling from a window. The actual partner bond would not happen for another two years, as tradition dictated, but tonight’s ceremony marked the beginning of their ‘trial run’, as people had taken to calling it. Two years where a couple would live as wedded, without the long term commitment. Two years where they would discover just how compatible they were, before being locked into the relationship by unbreakable bonds.

Bethany hauled herself off the bed - the same bed she had slept in since she was thirteen, which had been due for replacement for at least ten years now - and pulled a heavily altered dress out of a drawer. It didn’t matter what she wore, nobody would be looking at her during the ceremony, and Kara was going to hate it anyway. At least the dress was slightly more formal than the rest of her clothes, being the dress her mother had given her for her fourteenth birthday. Her own hand-done alterations had been necessary, thanks to her own growth, wear and tear, and Kara.

She caught her reflection in the window, a more forgiving picture than what she had seen in mirrors. The hazy glass softened her features, helped to hide some of the imperfections, and most importantly hid the bottom of the dress, which was a completely different colour and material to the rest. It had been a conscious choice for her graduation at eighteen, the first occasion when she had needed a formal outfit since her fourteenth. Her father had given her some offcuts, some of which almost matched, but she had chosen a contrasting colour thinking it might look like a deliberate fashion statement rather than a necessity. It hadn’t worked.

“Bethany, hurry up. We’re taking Kara to the Hall in five minutes, if you aren’t in the buggy then you’ll be walking. And don’t even think about missing this, I won’t have you disgrace the family with your absence.” Her father, who had the decency to use her name rather than calling her thing or wretch. She had always got the impression that he pitied her, or at the very least resented her less than the rest.

She sighed, jammed her feet into her only pair of actual shoes, and left the relative peace of her own room behind. The whole of their tower was manic, everyone rushing to get themselves prepared to be seen at the ceremony. Other families had more time to get ready, some were still in the process of fixing hair and yelling about misplaced items. Bethany was sure she would get the blame for at least some of those lost things, but that would come later. For now she was invisible, a ghost slipping through the proceedings, unseen and unimportant.

It was probably too much to hope that the whole evening would carry on that way. This might be Kara’s night, but it was always Bethany’s fault. They would probably try to blame her for the torrential downpour outside, too. Someone clattered down the stairs, bashing into her on their way, and she grabbed the rail to keep herself from falling. No apology, but then she had long since learnt not to expect one.

####

@kitty-is-writing any suggestions?

[journeydb]

April 24 2023 Boulder (continued)

Continuing on with the retrospective of Hobie's life in photos, Michael, Bruce's cousin who lives in New York, was the only member of Bruce's family that Hobie knew growing up, and with whom he still has a strong relationship. Michael came to Colorado several times, including for Hobie's wedding to Katie, and we visited Michael often in New York.

Barbara, who now calls herself Rose, was Hobie's nanny when he was a baby until he was two and a half. We owned a retail store on the Pearl Street Mall (and also a second store for a year in Denver) when I became a mother and it was more than a full time job. Rose became Hobie's nanny and cared for him during the day while I was at work during the week for the first year of his life. After we closed the store she stayed with us on a more limited basis, just to make sure that I had some time to myself, especially to be able to sleep through the night. When Hobie was two and a half she decided to become a nurse and left our employment, but she has remained a friend and continues to be in Hobie's life even after all these years.

The Thompson family kids, Buck, Summer, and Wyeth, have always been close friends to Hobie, and more like siblings, since their dad, Nathan, is Bruce's best friend. We spent many occasions with them and traveled with them extensively throughout the U.S. and abroad. Hobie was "the fourth Thompson kid" growing up and they are all still close to us.

We traveled to Ensenada, Mexico several times with the Thompsons and other families from Boulder to build small houses with the Homes for Hope organization for people who until then had never had a home of their own before. Those experiences helped build a bond with our families and taught the kids about personal responsibility as privileged people to have compassion for others and do their best to be of service to others.

Education is critical in everyone's life and we were blessed to find the most supportive and loving school experiences for Hobie throughout his life, beginning in preschool at White Rose, then elementary school at Boulder Community School for Integrated Studies (BCSIS), middle school at Southern Hills, and high school at Watershed and Oakley. The saying "It takes a village to raise a child" couldn't be more true and our village was extensive and incredibly helpful. We made friends for life during our experiences at all those schools.

Many of the kids with whom Hobie went to school were also on his sports teams. His friend Peter from BCSIS was at Hobie's wedding and is one of his best friends to this day.

There were so many other people in Hobie's life who contributed to his happiness and growth and it's not possible, especially when Tumbler limits me to thirty photos in a post, to mention all of them, but here are a few photos of family and friends who have been important to all of us.

The most important people in Hobie's life as an adult, apart from us, of course, have been his wife Katie and her family. The Gambrells are the most WONDERFUL people and we are BLESSED to have them in our lives. From the moment Hobie and Katie began seeing each other we were grateful for her and our love for her has only grown exponentially over the years. And now they are the parents of our granddaughter, Maple, and have brought us so much joy through this little angel.

[nbmsports]

Stock Market Returns Are Deceptively High

It has been a fine half year for stocks, money market funds and, to a lesser extent, bonds — so good, in comparison with last year, that you may feel like celebrating when you look at your quarterly portfolio statement.But this rosy picture doesn’t capture the entire situation for the mutual funds and exchange-traded funds used by most American investors.For one thing, while the recent market returns are real enough, the reports are missing critical information that would make the returns look less fabulous.A quirk in the calendar and in government disclosure rules always makes the fund numbers look considerably better when periods of poor performance move too far into the past to be included in the quarterly reports required for publicly traded funds. That happened this past quarter, when the miserable returns of 2022 were no longer fully represented in their stark awfulness.For another, bond returns, which are positive for the calendar year, have flagged recently. That’s largely because of uncertainty about the state of the economy and the outlook for inflation and interest rate increases. Although inflation dropped to a 3 percent annual rate in the latest Consumer Price Index report, the Federal Reserve is likely to raise interest rates again at its next meeting on July 25 and 26, and could keep doing so in further meetings. Bonds could suffer.Only money market funds — often dismissed as a form of “cash” and not included as one of the major asset groups — are in an unequivocally positive position. Yields on the 100 biggest money-market funds tracked by Crane Data average 4.94 percent, up from 0.6 percent just a year ago, and many funds are paying more than 5 percent annually.As the Fed raises its benchmark federal funds rate, money market fund rates follow. “I think they will keep grinding higher for a while,” Peter G. Crane, the president of Crane Data of Westborough, Mass., said in an interview. The good times for money market funds aren’t over quite yet.But for longer-term investors — those with horizons of a decade are more — the returns on stocks and bonds are more important than those for the inherently short-term money market funds. And the latest stock and bond numbers don’t change the big picture at all. The stock market over long periods tends to outperform bonds and cash investment, but at the cost of much greater volatility.Gaudy ReturnsAn odd thing happened to stock and bond fund returns this year, though you may not notice unless you take the time to look under the hood, as Daniel Wiener, chairman of Adviser Investments in Newton, Mass., pointed out in an email.He noted that 12-month performance tallies for a wide variety of funds had shifted from sharply negative in the first quarter this year to sharply positive in the second quarter. This shift had little to do with the recent performance of stocks and bonds.Instead it was about what happened last year, and how the dismal market of 2022 is being recorded in 12-month performance results.“Massive gains” are being reported for the second quarter, Mr. Wiener said, but they shouldn’t be taken at face value. “It’s all in the point-in-time periods over which returns are measured,” he added.Recall that the first half of last year was traumatically bad for many investors, especially the second quarter. Those four months were included in the 12-month returns that investors received in their fund statements in the spring, but they dropped out of the 12-month returns through June, the ones that people are looking at now.For example, the S&P 500 rose 15.9 percent in the calendar year through June, a big rise for six months, no question. For the 12 months through June, it rose a staggering 17.6 percent. But consider the tallies that were correct just one month earlier — yet never viewed by most fund shareholders because these numbers didn’t correspond to the quarterly reporting schedule mandated by the Securities and Exchange Commission.The S&P 500 rose 8.9 percent in the calendar year through May, still a decent increase. But the startling thing is the 12-month gain of that index through May was only 1.2 percent.The 12-month return in the S&P 500 jumped 16.4 percentage points in just one month. And the higher return reported in June, the 17.6 percent 12-month increase, is the commonly seen metric, giving rise to far more optimistic feelings about the stock market than a mere 1.2 percent return.What happened? Two things.The stock market rose 6.5 percent in June. But the more consequential change was the S&P 500’s 8.4 percent decline in June 2022. That year-old monthly loss was included in the 12-month return through May 2023, but dropped out in the far more important June 2023 quarterly report.A Bigger PictureUsing data provided by Morningstar, a financial research company, I found that this pattern extends across funds of many kinds.Stock and bond investors in mutual funds and E.T.F.s. had positive returns on average for the second quarter, which ended on June 30, as well as the first quarter, which ended on March 31.Yet the average 12-month returns for stocks and bonds shifted radically from quarter to quarter, mainly because of what happened in 2022, not this year.Here are the numbers from the most recent quarter:And here they are for the first quarter, just three months earlier:So what’s the real picture here?In simple terms, stock and bond markets are up this year but were down last year. Most investors have lost money since the market peaked in January 2022. Over the longer periods required by the S.E.C. for standard fund returns — one, three, five and 10 years and from the fund’s inception — broad stock market funds are generally positive. Bond funds tend to be positive for the longer periods — five and 10 years or more — but negative over one and three years.Odd things happen for longer-term returns, too. Even the seemingly stable 10-year returns can shift sharply from month to month, altering investors’ perceptions of the strength of the market. That happened four years ago.As I pointed out then, the S&P 500 plummeted more than 50 percent from Sept. 7, 2007, until March 9, 2009. But in the spring of 2019, the last of that horrendous decline aged out of the 10-year trailing stock market returns. The 10-year returns rose abruptly for hundreds of funds.It’s important to understand that this is happening because when evidence of sharp losses recedes into the past, it’s easy to overlook the risks involved in investing.TakeawaysEven knowing that the markets periodically inflict great pain, I continue to be fairly upbeat about stocks — and the U.S. economy — for the long haul, while expecting traumas more frequently than anyone would like.So for short-term financial needs — those of the next year or two — I view the risks of stocks as way too high for comfort, and I’m minimizing my holdings of long-term bonds right now, too. Bonds of short duration and, especially, cash are better for shorter horizons.Happily, money market funds are performing splendidly. They seem a good bet for the next six months or so.On Wednesday, the S.E.C. adopted a series of complex measures to enhance the funds’ stability in a potential crisis down the road. We’ll have to see how that plays out.For now, I’m pleased that my fund returns are looking much better now than they did three months ago, but I’m not confident that will be true next quarter or even next month.That’s not because I’m know where the markets are going. I don’t. But I do know that they frequently fall. And I know for certain that one year ago, in July 2022, the S&P 500 rose 9.1 percent.That was good news back then. But it also means there is a strong chance that my 12-month stock market return will decline this month. That’s because a gain of 9.1 percent is a high hurdle and, in any given month, it’s unlikely that the market will surmount it.But buffered by bonds and money market funds, I’ll invest in the stock market anyway. Source link Read the full article

[cringecompanionapologist]

The Doctor had a one-off romance in the first season of the Classic Series. I think the actual Doctor Romance Timeline is more like:

Since it was a kids show with a lead character who was an old man "does this man fuck" just seemed unlikely to come up. But, since he had a granddaughter, we were kinda suppose to assume that he did something with someone at some point. The Aztecs happens and we get a little one-off romance story. It's an accidental engagement, but it's made clear that the Doctor really was falling for Cameca.

The Doctor regenerates into a slightly younger and much more chaotic form, played by an actor who likes to ad-lib and try to get away with shenanigans. He throws some double entendres around and his co-stars join in. Implied 2/Jamie happens.

The show is completely retooled and now the Doctor is sorta James Bond, so he has some chemistry with his sexy assistants. But, Jon Pertwee claims the Doctor to be asexual. This is probably the first time anyone actually did that. Everything going on with the Master was apparently accidental.

Tom Baker wants the Doctor to be more asexual as part of his "alien" nature, but Tom Baker also sort of plays the Doctor as himself and Tom Baker is extremely horny. This leads to a Doctor who is both completely aroace and romantically and sexually involved with at least one, or possibly two companions. This is especially obvious when he's actually dating Lalla Ward, so the Doctor and Romana come across as an obvious couple. They do a computer commercial where the Doctor proposes to Romana because no one would be surprised by this point.

JNT takes over as producer and officially establishes the "no hanky-panky in the TARDIS" rule. Peter Davison is banned from having physical contact with his female companions so no one will think they're fucking. Some people still think they're fucking. On top of that, the no-touchy rule doesn't apply to male companions. Turlough exists. Everything with the Master is still accidental.

Another actor plays the Doctor as aroace, but he's allowed physical contact with his often half-naked female companion. Their dynamic starts to resemble an abusive relationship because the writers fucked up.

The Doctor actually seems pretty asexual this time around. The Wilderness Years happen and Doctor Who goes from a TV show for children to a novel series for adults with plenty of sex and violence, but Marc Platt invents looms. Time Lords reproduce asexually. Nobody fucks on Gallifrey. The fandom decides that "Doctor Who does not fuck and/or fall in love" is an official Sacred Rule that's existed since the dawn of time.

TV movie. The Doctor kisses his one-off companion. The fandom explodes. Not everybody is offended by this, however. The EDA novels decide that the Doctor can kiss people every now and again, especially his companion Fitz. A lady writes an erotic novel that's blatantly about the Doctor and the EDAs reference it, pretending it's canon because it would be really fucking funny. Big Finish does a sort of romance with Charley, but they downplay it enough that there isn't a major fandom riot.

New Series! RTD is from the side of the fandom not opposed to the Doctor having love interests and 9/Rose is present, but more as sexual tension than a relationship. Captain Jack Harkness is introduced as the horniest man to ever live and he successfully makes out with everybody.

The Tenth Doctor leans into the romance thing and there's a line that strongly implies he fucked Elizabeth I. Wishing he could romance but humans dying too quickly becomes a reoccurring character thing.

Moffat. With him, horny is just a part of his writing style. The Doctor gets a wife, the horniest woman to ever live River Song.

12/Clara takes a more romantic turn. Browser history jokes. River comes back and 12 spends a several decades-long night with his wife which probably involved a lot of sex. It's Moffat. People still praise 12 for being a return to the "classic asexual" Doctor, probably because he's played by a man over 50.

It seems like Chibnall wanted to go in a less horny direction. But that old-fashioned audience doesn't care whether 13 fucks or not because they're too caught up on her being a woman. Meanwhile, most of the audience who likes the show at this point is into Thasmin, so a sort of last-minute acknowledgement of the pairing is thrown in. It's clearly being done not because it was really what Chibnall wanted, but because the show is bleeding viewership and he wants to reward the people who stuck with it, so it pretty much amounts to "Alright, they're gay. Anyway..."

RTD is back and the Doctor calls a guy hot. Everyone loses their goddamn minds as if the Doctor didn't kiss a guy onscreen in 2005.

Ncuti Gatwa continues the Tom Baker tradition of having the Doctor's sexuality come from his own. But Gatwa's gay, so everyone once again loses their goddamn minds. Nothing remotely out-of-the-ordinary has occurred.

the debate over 'is the doctor a romantic [in the love sense of the world]' and 'does the doctor fuck' is so fucking funny because it usually looks something like this:

the classic doctors DID NOT do this and NOBODY thought this way at the time and the doctor was a WHOLLY ASEXUAL figure

eight kissed grace and it's been downhill ever since

nuwho doctor is obsessed with romance[/sex depending on who you ask] :(

which misses a) the fact that two entirely different debates (does the doctor fuck and does the doctor fall in love) are going on here and b) fitz kreiner

[nightshadevines]

main + bond tags

VISAGE. * autumn leaves; blueberries; and sage.

ABOUT. * i live in the pages of a forgotten dream.

AESTHETIC. * get out; run away; my grand plan is to be far from here.

THOUGHTS. * do you pinky promise you won’t screw me over?

BOND: GWEN. * remind me of the heart.

BOND: ACE. * remind me how to sleep.

BOND: JULIET. * remind me of the light. 

BOND: JETSAM. * remind me of the waves.

BOND: CAYDE. * remind me of the beginning. 

BOND: PETER AND ROSE. * if i had just a little more time...

[messers-moony]

Runaways | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Twin!Fem!Reader

Summary: Regulus refuses to lose yet another sibling after Sirius leaves.

Being a Hufflepuff Prefect with a mischievous older Gryffindor brother is a lot of work. Sirius is frequently getting into trouble, and Remus is no help. But honestly? Y/n isn’t either. If anything, she laughs at her brother and her friend's antics. Y/n is the only Black family member still in good shape with all her family. 

Sirius was overjoyed when Y/n was into Hufflepuff. His little sister following in his footsteps of no longer being a Slytherin. However, Y/n’s twin brother - Regulus - was sorted into Slytherin. She didn’t let that define their relationship. Y/n was close with her twin and the Marauders. Remus often bumped her shoulder in the halls making her smile. The werewolf often had that effect on her. So did James, and so did Peter. 

But no one made a giant smile appear on her face than Sirius and Regulus. 

“Oi! Little sis!” His voice, it was calm and bright, something she hadn’t heard in a long time. 

Y/n turned, “Hey Siri.”

Sirius’ arm went around her shoulders, “How’s your day been?”

“Good, yours?”

“Oh,” Sirius sighed, dreaming, making her chuckle, “It’s been perfect, dear sister.”

“What did you do now?” Y/n fake scolded, “Everything.” Sirius replied. 

A familiar raven-haired boy was making their way towards them, hoping and praying that they wouldn’t notice. His green tie and green robes. The prefect badge on the left side of his chest. The wavy black hair and the beautiful grey eyes. The 5’11 Slytherin walking towards his twin sister and older brother. The people he adored the most in the world but barely talked to within the castle walls. His plan ultimately failed. 

Regulus turned to walk by his two siblings only for Y/n to wrap an around his shoulder, “Reggie!”

“Y/n, Sirius.” Regulus greeted with the corners of his lips barely turning up, “How’s your day been?” Sirius asked, turning to look at his younger brother. 

“Good until two idiots came along.” He joked with a smile adorning his features. 

Y/n put her hand on her heart dramatically, “You wound me!”

Both brothers chuckled, and a Professor came to greet them in the middle of the hallway, seeing their beautiful smiling faces, “All three Black’s in one spot. How brilliant!” Slughorn commented as Sirius faked tipping his hat. 

The three Black siblings. The Black trio. One Gryffindor, one Slytherin, and one Hufflepuff. Oh, how Walburga adored them despite the way she treated them. It was never in her heart to treat them the way she does. Orion had such a soft spot for his twins. But alas, both parents knew that if they didn’t raise them correctly - or without abuse - they would only get hurt worse. Walburga knew that if she treated them the way she truly wanted to, they’d be split. 

But that never compared to the aching in her heart when she had to cast a spell on her children. The kids she was sworn to protect. Walburga never wanted this life, never wanted to marry Orion, hell, she never even wanted kids, but Merlin, her kids were great. Slughorn and McGonagall would send her letters of how wonderfully they’ve been doing in their studies, how Sirius made another cauldron explode, how Regulus caught the snitch and won the Quidditch Cup, how Y/n made prefect and was top of her class. 

It was beautiful, and for once, Walburga was happy. She hid all the letters from Orion. If Orion knew he’d made Walburga send a howler, and she didn’t want that. Godric how she hated the awful red colors the howlers came in. The awful shade of brilliant rose. It brought a grimace to her face just thinking about it. But like everything, the truth comes out, and Sirius eventually got a howler. 

Sirius let go of Y/n to begin Transfiguration while the two twins made their way to Herbology. Not before Sirius kissing the tops of their heads like he did when they were kids, “I love you guys!”

“Black, get in here!” McGonagall yelled, and both twins laughed, “We love you too!” They replied in unison. 

Regulus and Y/n laughed, their arms around each other's shoulders, “I never want him to leave.” Regulus admitted. 

“Me either.”

The day was uneventful. More learning, more foolishness, and more laughter. Professor Sprout couldn’t help but smile at the Black twins in her classroom. Regulus was always ice cold when not around his siblings. They made him shine even if he couldn’t find a reason to. It didn’t matter where they were. The Black trio always brought smiles with them. Whether it was Y/n and Sirius, the twins, or all three, their smiles, their laughs, their happiness was so contagious. Three children from an abusive home, coming together to make each other smile. How is it possible?

Y/n would be the answer. The glue to the Black family. The bond to keep her brothers from drifting apart. But that all changed in the summer of 1976.

It was dark and another day of yelling. Sirius couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to leave. He wanted to go. It was bound to happen. He kept telling himself. But did that excuse leaving his siblings behind? Would he risk their safety for his own pleasure? Sirius didn’t have time to think about it. He packed his trunk and opened the window. One leg out and just about to get the other over until his door opened. 

His little sister, “Sirius?”

“Hey, sis…” Sirius hated how his voice shook and almost broke.

“What- Where are you going?”

He couldn’t help it; she needed to know the truth, “Away. Far away from here.”

Y/n crossed her arms slowly, “Without saying goodbye?”

“Goodbye?” Sirius replied with a nervous smile. 

She shook her head with a smile, walking toward his window. Sirius expected a smack, a lecture. But she didn’t do that. Y/n cupped both his cheeks and kissed his forehead like he did when she was hurt. Tears filled his grey eyes without permission as he stared at his younger sister's glossed eyes. Gently she ran her hand through his hair, moving it back. 

“I suppose you were never good at goodbyes.”

“Not really, no.” Sirius chuckled. 

Y/n smiled, “I know you aren’t happy here. You were never happy here.” Sirius interrupted before she could continue, “You could give Remus a run for his money.”

“Listen, Sirius, please.” She pleaded, and Sirius looked at her eyes; he’d miss them, “All I ask, is that you take care of yourself. Regulus and I, we’ll manage. But you should say goodbye to him too….”

“Go get him.”

It took minutes, but Regulus was eventually standing in front of his older brother, one leg out of the window and the other inside his bedroom. Y/n stood behind them, arms crossed with tears streaming down her cheeks silently. Regulus looked like he wanted to cry, but he didn’t. Sirius didn’t care anymore. Silver trails ran down his cheeks, especially when Regulus hugged his older brother with all his strength. 

“I'm going to miss you.”

Sirius sniffled, “I’ll miss you a hundred times more.”

“Impossible.” Y/n interjected, smiling. 

Regulus and Sirius pulled apart, Regulus now standing beside his twin, “I need you to know,” Sirius began, looking at Regulus, “James isn’t your replacement. He is nothing compared to you. You’re my brother, always.”

“And you,” He turned to Y/n after Regulus nodded, “You’re my baby sister, through and through. Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean you can give me detention.” 

They chuckled, and possibly for the last time, “Always.”

“Forever.”

“Together.”

Sirius gave a watery smile and finished the jump out his window. Wordlessly Y/n shut it behind him. Regulus stood in front of the glass pane until Sirius was out of sight and gave a heavy sigh. Y/n was standing right beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“I knew it was going to happen. I just wish it wasn’t so soon.” Regulus whispered, “I know.” Y/n agreed. 

Regulus took her hand, “Forever.”

“Together.” Y/n replied, squeezing his hand. 

So many they lost their always, but they still had each other. The next night at dinner was dreadful. Possibly the worst one yet, “Where is he!”

“I- I don’t know.” Y/n answered, cowering away, her hand rubbing her forearm.

Walburga looked at Regulus, and he shook his head, “Where is Sirius?”

“Gone.” Walburga replied to her husband, who gave a mere shrug at the answer, “Our heir is gone, Orion! What are we going to do now.”

“The reasonable thing, Y/n is next in line.”

Walburga scoffed, “Absolutely not.”

Regulus reached for his sister's hand after noticing the tears collecting in her eyes, “She is a disgrace! Just like Sirius!”

Orion put down the daily prophet, looking at his wife across the table, “What would you like me to do about it?”

“Regulus!” The boy stiffened, “You are our next heir.”

“No!” Y/n exclaimed, her rage taking over, “That isn’t how it works! I’m the next in line, disgrace or not. I'm older than Regulus.”

Walburga pulled out her wand, but Y/n didn’t flinch, “With that courage, you should be in Gryffindor.” The older woman seethed.

“You feel no remorse, do you?” Y/n asked, but she did; Godric, Walburga hated herself, “Putting your wand to my neck like I’m some training dummy.”

“How do you think we feel! Our older brother is gone! The one who took care of us because our parents can’t.”

Y/n had tears flowing down her cheeks, “How do you think we feel?”

The girl stood up from the table without being dismissed after letting go of Regulus’ hand, “I saw the tapestry.”

“You burned him from it! What kind of monster are you?! He’s your son regardless of his house. I’ll be your heir, but I will never be your puppet.”

Y/n ran up to her bedroom. Walburga and Orion stared at their son, who sat as stiff as a board. More minutes passed, and Regulus left the table too but not before speaking to his parents, “I’ll- I’ll be your heir. I’ll be your son.”

“Brilliant. Thank you, Regulus.” Walburga smiled.

Regulus lost his brother. He wasn’t losing his sister. But over time, it felt like he was. There was no more laughter in the halls. Only one Black sibling was laughing and smiling - Sirius. There was no more hugging in the halls, no more playing around. Regulus and Y/n were ice. They were cold and in pain. That was the first thing Sirius noticed. His siblings hadn’t stopped by his carriage like usual. It dampened his mood. 

“Hey, I’m sure they’re just busy.” James had reassured, but Sirius wasn’t so sure.

It was the first ride to Hogwarts that Sirius was utterly silent. He played with the ribbon in his hand. It was a green ribbon that he carried with him everywhere. The boys never knew what it was or where it came from. They had just discovered that Sirius would fidget with it when he was upset. Remus noticed it first - of course - but James did too, and shortly Peter followed. It was her ribbon, Y/n’s ribbon. A ribbon she wore in her hair when she was seven. 

After a bad punishment, Sirius had been given Y/n took care of him. Washed his cuts and plastered them. It was then she learned how much Sirius loved when people did his hair. So she braided it for him and tied it off with her green ribbon. He remembered the way it felt on his fingertips. So perfectly combed and webbed together. It was the reason his hair was long enough to braid. Every Quidditch match, he’d weave it. James asked why once, and Sirius ignored him, but Y/n knew. It was okay to keep secrets sometimes. 

Fifth-year for the twins went by smoothly. Sirius’ sixth year was hell. He missed his siblings so much somedays it was hard to get up in the morning. Regardless it was hard to get Sirius out of bed in the morning, but this year was particularly rough. It was like he was in a constant state of Remus after the full moon - tired, fatigued and sad. 

He missed Regulus’ smile and Y/n’s laughter. Godric, he missed everything! Sirius cried - sobbed about it at night. His silencing charms weren’t good. It left James and Remus in a tricky spot. It was apparent he didn’t want to talk about it because if he did, he would’ve by now. Remus stopped seeing the twins during prefect rounds and stopped seeing Y/n altogether. It was like she was avoiding them. 

The twins did their prefect rounds together, studied together, and only talked to each other. It broke Sirius’ heart. He ruined everything just for his own pleasure. But hadn’t Y/n meant what she said? That she wanted him to be happy? Sirius wasn’t happy. He was far from it. 

Regulus had nightmares every night about his parents. About his brother leaving, about everything. So he didn’t sleep most nights, and instead, he threw himself into his studies. Occasionally he’d realized that he had done two essays and then understood that he no longer had to do his brother's homework. Regulus had copies of reports everywhere because it was a habit. A habit he had to lose. 

Y/n stopped baking extra cookies. Every Saturday, she’d go to the kitchens to bake a new delicacy the muggle way. Y/n couldn’t help but accidentally bake extra for her Gryffindor brother, only to realize that she wouldn’t give them to him. Instead, she gave them to the house elves to serve after dinner in the Great Hall. They’d appear on the Gryffindor table, and Sirius knew they were a product of her. 

During the summer holiday of 1977, Regulus began to notice that Y/n gone often. Walburga would send her away, or Orion would make her run an errand. Regardless Y/n wasn’t around as much. Was she going to run like Sirius? Walburga and Orion sent her to Auror training. Y/n was young, too young for this training. It was Auror training, but they weren’t training her to work for the Ministry. They were preparing for her to become a death eater. 

Weeks passed, and Regulus felt saddened by her absence. So one day at dinner, he spoke up, “Why haven’t you been present at home?”

Y/n chuckled, “Are you serious? You haven’t told him?”

“What- What do you mean?” Regulus questions suspiciously.

Walburga coughed, “She’s been put into training.”

“Training?”

“Auror training.”

“But not to be an Auror, to be a death eater.” 

Y/n scoffed, “Bullshit, tell him the real reason.” 

She looked at both her parents, “They don’t want me anymore. They send me away because it’s easier than disowning me, like Sirius.”

“N- No.” Regulus denied, “Mum, tell me that she’s lying.”

Silence, “Answer me, please.” Regulus pleaded as a water film glossed his grey eyes.

“She’s not lying.” Orion stated, and Regulus let his tears fall down his cheeks, “No! I won’t let you take her from me!”

Regulus stood up, and his chair flipped behind him, “If you disown her, you disown me!”

“Reggie…”

“No! Please no!” Regulus was clawing at his hair, sobbing, “Don’t take her too….” He whimpered. 

Y/n began to stand up until Walburga sent a spell her way, throwing her back. It just made Regulus cry more. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They were sixteen! This wasn’t fair. So Regulus stood up and held back his tears. Walburga held her wand to his throat, making Y/n nervous. But Regulus was cold, ice cold. Hastily he grabbed his mother's wand and snapped it. Y/n didn’t have time to gape. Regulus ran to her, and they ran. 

Through the front door to anywhere else in the dark of the night. Orion was too busy with his wife to realize his children were gone. Y/n was sure they were miles away before they stopped. No magic could be done. They weren’t seventeen yet. They’d have to survive without magic. But then she heard it. A howl. It was a risk, a big one, but they had to take it. 

She took her brother's hand and began running towards it, “Y/n, where are we going?”

“To whatever is howling.”

“Are you mental?”

“Maybe.” Y/n shrugged. 

Suddenly he saw it. That look Sirius always had. She looked free, happy, and mischievous. Suddenly she wasn’t Y/n Black. She was just Y/n. His twin sister. The girl that would beg her brothers to adventure with her, to trust her blindly. That’s what he was doing now - trusting her blindly. They must’ve been miles away. Regulus didn’t even know how they got that far, but in the forest, the howling got louder. 

But at the edge of the forest was a black dog, guarding the entrance to the woods, making sure that no one entered. The stag was taking care of the werewolf. They took turns. One full moon, the dog, was to stand guard, next the stag. Y/n cried upon seeing the animal. She dropped to her knees, and Regulus knelt beside her. The dog looked familiar and gave them both great kisses. They fell asleep together. Y/n, Regulus and the dog. 

The following morning, James went back out to the forest after realizing Padfoot was missing. At the entrance of the forest, he saw them. The Black trio. So he left them. Sirius knew the way back; it wasn’t worth ruining their moment. Regulus stirred awake first and woke the dog. The dog left a multitude of kisses on the twins. Y/n woke up shortly after. 

Regulus was appalled to see the dog turn into his older brother but happy nonetheless, “Sirius!”

“Reggie.” Sirius replied, holding him close. 

They parted, and Sirius kissed his forehead, “How?”

“The howling.”

“How did you leave?”

“I snapped mum’s wand.”

Sirius looked flabbergasted, “Really?”

“She- She was going to separate us. I didn’t- I couldn’t lose another sibling.” Regulus admitted, and Sirius took him into his arms again, “Never again. I promise.”

Y/n chuckled, “Looks like we’re all runaways.”

Sirius grabbed her into the hug, “But we’re doing it together.”

[assorted-fics]

Fics of the Week

Avatar: The Last Airbender

a nation, held by snowdarkred

It doesn’t take long for the rumors to start.

The Fire Nation prides itself on its civilization. It isn’t like the other, lesser, nations who throw their children away by sending them into war. Those uncultured and unfeeling savages who are destroying their own future faster than the Fire Nation can save them from themselves.

Every Fire Nation child goes to school. They learn reading and writing, the illustrious history of their country, and what will be expected of them as proper, upstanding Fire Nation citizens. They are to be protected, because children are the future glory of the nation.

The crown prince is thirteen when his father burns his face in front of an audience of hundreds.

All The Gentle Creatures by Haicrescendo

It’s said that you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. Zuko may be loud and stubborn and sharp but all the woodland creatures love him.

The Good Vanilla by Haicrescendo

Sokka’s beautiful friendship with Zuko doesn’t start with breaking Dad out of jail. That’s just what he tells people.

Sokka’s beautiful friendship with Zuko started the day he realizes that he knows how to cook.

Feat. breakup cake, an attempted assassination, and eating out of the pan like dirty heathens.

Merlin

From the Start by CrzyFun

"You... assisted me in my fight against the bandits. For that, you have my thanks. I'm an honorable man and I repay my debts. Leave now and I will not hunt you."

"Assisted? I'm pretty sure I saved your life."

"I had the situation perfec- Are you trying to make me reconsider letting you go?"

It was supposed to be a one time thing. Arthur let the sorcerer run off with his life in return for him saving Arthur's. He had never expected to see the boy again, especially not only two days later in Gaius's chambers.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

non native ceramics by silentwalrus

Ed opens up the catacombs on the first of September, clapping his hands and then watching the stones part like the swish of a theater curtain, pouring over each other to reveal the dark, blocky tunnels beneath.

An Interesting Trip by ShanaStoryteller

Everyone's born with their soulmate's first words to them written on their skin, and that should make things easy, but it really doesn't.

"Roy has alternatively despised his mark and clung to it like a lifeline. Colonel. Just one word, right at the back of his foot. His literal Achilles’ heel."

Spider-Man

of things unknown (but still longed for) by aloneintherain

Peter Parker can’t walk around with the same daemon as Spider-Man. But she’s going to settle one day, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Guardians of the Galaxy

Silence is Golden by GloriousBlackout

Peter doesn't say a word during his first six months with the Ravagers. Yondu learns to adapt to having a silent shadow following him around.

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by BeanieBaby

I kept him ‘cause he’s small and fits into spaces others can’t. Good for thievin'.

Harry Potter

Spider in the Roses by HauntingOpal

When Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass start 4th year, they expect a silly tournament and more study time. Instead they get an abused Harry Potter who isn't a Potter at all, a mother who wants her son back, and a Slytherin Triwizard competitor who owes a debt to Harry Potter. Not to mention a twinkly eyed headmaster whose careful plans are being torn to shreds by very protective Slytherins.

House Proud by atolat

His house liked Draco Malfoy more than him.

All the Little Things by MyWhiteKnight

Oliver just wanted to beat the Slytherin in the House Cup this year, and find a good seeker to replace his friend and mentor, Charlie Weasley. Instead, he found the beginnings of an unbreakable bond between himself and one curly-haired witch.

What started as helping a lonely first year gain her bearings in a new world evolved into having their own analyst for Gryffindor. As time goes on, life develops in a way he never saw coming.

Series: we must unite inside her walls or we'll crumble from within by dirgewithoutmusic

stories for the ladies of hogwarts, who cry, waver, giggle, trespass, and who deserve our respect all the same

First Fic: overemotional: in defence of cho chang

Cho cried and she survived Pansy Parkinson's cruel jabs about a dead boy. She wept and she passed all her classes, kept up with Quidditch, watched fairweather friends scatter in the cold wind. She got very good at wordlessly summoning tissues and she joined the DA against her parents' wishes.

They had told her to behave, begged her, ordered her, as the threatening darknesses of the world clung close even inside Hogwarts, and Cho walked out to the little pub in Hogsmeade and wrote her name down on Hermione's list.

I hope someone in the DA told Cho that she ought to have been in Gryffindor.

I hope she laughed at them, hard.

Integrity. Truth. Honor. Dedication. These were the tenets of her House, of the blue and the bronze, the eagle called raven (called nerd, called stuck-up, called so many things that were not their names). Bravery was only one way to be a hero.