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#and harry was fucking loud as hell
larrylimericks · 2 years
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22Jul22
This eve of a day filled with magic, A stage gift made Harry ecstatic: One dream and one band, One t-shirt in hand, Raised proudly, “An absolute classic!”
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rafesslxt · 1 month
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Showerhead 2 | mattheo riddle
pt. 2 — you can find pt. 1 here
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summary: after you and mattheo had some fun in the shower, you two can‘t stop thinking about each other and that night. But who gives in first to sin again after a little jealousy?
words: 5,1k
warnings: heavy dirty talk again, cursing, making out, dry humping, teasing, controlling, praising, bj, unprotected p in v, shower, swallowing, legilimency (mind reading),
note: you don‘t have to read part 1 for this part but have fun if you want to
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— in the great hall —
After that night in the shower 2 weeks ago, I couldn‘t stop thinking about it. I dreamed about it in my sleep, daydreamed about it in class and lunch while Hermione talked about some book we needed to read to understand everything in potions.
I hated it but everytime we crossed paths, he winked at me and I couldn't help myself but start blushing. As soon as I saw his face, I saw it between my legs.
"Y/n? Are you even listening?" Hermione says and shakes me a litte at my shoulder. "What? Yeah yeah of course, I'm gonna read it." They all look at each other before their eyes are on me again. "We were actually talking about how Cormac seems to have quite interest in you." Harry then continues.
I start laughing loud, looking at them as If each of them has 3 heads." What the hell are you talking about?" "Told ya she's not listening.." Ron says, raising his eyebrows as he bites into his toast.
"I thought he‘s interested in Hermione?" I ask as my laughter calms down a bit. "Harry heard him talking about how he would - well.. do certain things to you." My amused face turns into a disgusting one as I hear what Ron says.
"Yeah and guess who‘s got an invention to Slughorn‘s dinner?" Hermione says with raised eyebrows.
Ron looks at her shoked. "What?? That prick got one and I didn‘t?"
"Oh god no.." a few days ago Harry, Hermione and myself got an invention to tonights Slughorn‘s dinner for his favorite students. ".. but wait, how do you know who‘s coming?" I ask her. "I just asked him after the last lesson of potions. It‘s Neville, Ginny, Blaise Zabini, Mattheo Riddle, Corma –" "Mattheo Riddle?" I ask her shocked, looking at her with wide eyes.
I would see him again? Like.. this close and with people around us? My mind is racing as Hermione answers. "Yeah well, you know he‘s really smart and good in potions." "And he has an interest in special students and Mattheo is.. well – special." Harry comments.
Ron snorts and talks with a full mouth. "Mh yeaw hiff fatha was "speschal".
Hermione rolls his eyes at his full mouth and looks at me again. "Why are you so suprised by his name?" she asks me a little suspicious. " oh uh- just suprised, i always thought Mattheo is uh - not interested in things like that."
"Why would chou think about wat Mattheo is-" "Ron just eat and shut up!" I snap at him making the other two widen their eyes a bit.
I collect my things and stand up from the table. "I‘m gonna go to.. god i don‘t know I‘m gonna go." I say, walking off before they can answer. Because it‘s the weekend I luckily don‘t have classes today. I don‘t think I could concentrate in one of them after the information I just got. God why him? Why me? Maybe I can say I feel sick.. no he would know. I can‘t back down.
I walk down a hall, not thinking where I am going and suddenly crash into something hard but not as hard as a wall. My book and writing stuff falls to the ground and I look up, staring right into the face of Mattheo.
My brain went blank in this monent. "What princess? Aren‘t you happy to see me?" he grins down at me before he gets down and picks up my stuff. "Hm I remember a similar moment, same position." He smiles even more when he sees my red cheeks and not talking mouth. As he gives me my stuff he presses his mouth to my ear and whispers "I‘m looking forward to tonight" And with that, he‘s gone.
I‘m so fucked.
— at the evening —
" Do you know what you‘re wearing?" I ask Hermione while I put on some makeup. I hear her sigh and she goes "yeah I have this one dress I really like. What about you?" I shake my head as I search for my lipliner. " Not really, but I have enough dresses so I‘ll find something." Hermione laughs at my comment as she pulls out her dress and changes into it.
After I‘m done with my makeup and hair, I walk over to my closet, looking for a nice dress.
"What about this one? It would fit perfectly for the occasion." She says as she pulls out a dress of mine. It is long and black, with cute little arms on it. "It‘s pretty but I want something.. else." As i go trough my clothes I think about Mattheo again and what would impress him. God I need to stop it.
"Well what are you looking for?" "Hmm something likeee.. this." It‘s perfect. It‘s short but not too short, i know it sits beautifully on me and.. it‘s green.
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(imagine something like this but in some green tone and longer so it‘s more school approved)
Hermione raises her eyebrows and looks at me. "Are you sure? Isn‘t it a little too.. party?" I love her for how she always chose her words wisely and with a knowledge for not hurting and judging people. I know what she meant but she would never think about judging me. Even when I put my clothes on she wouldn‘t pick, she makes me feel great in them.
"Yeah, I‘m sure." I smile, putting it on. When I look into the mirror I smile even more, thinking about how Mattheo will react seeing me in it.
As the time comes we take our purses and walk outside our dorms, meeting Harry and Ron in the common room. "You both look great." Harry tells us like the gentlemen he is but Ron just scans me like a little hater and looks at me. "Isn‘t that a little too flashy?" "Ron!" Hermione hits him on the shoulder.
"Don‘t be mad at what you can‘t have Ronald." I say grinning and winking at him before I link my arm into Harry‘s with Hermione doing the same on his right side.
We walked through Hogwarts, towards the dinner and the closer we got the more my heart started beating as If I‘m running a marathon.
I open the door in front of us after taking one last deep breath and walk inside with my two friends.
Everyone was already there, seated perfectly. "Oh hello you three! I‘m so glad you made it. Please choose a seat and get comfortable." Professor Slughorn greets us. I always liked him, even tho many say he‘s a little weird sometimes but I think thats exactly what I do like about him.
As I walk towards an empty seat, I scan the table, looking at Mattheo when I found him but his eyes were already on my dress.
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Quickly I look away, seeing that Cormacs eyes were on me too which made me gag a little.
But god Mattheo looks so good. He wears a simple white shirt with a black tie and black slacks. Damn what I would give to ride his thigh in these – "Y/n you‘re staring." Hermione whispers into my ear, making me realise i stared right at Mattheo, but to my suprise he‘s still looking, not breaking eye contact for a second.
I gulp and look away, feeling my cheeks getting warm. God I hate it so much what kind of affect he has on me. I can‘t be the only one..
Wait. I‘m a woman. I can definitely tease him and make him feel the same.
The dinner goes on, nothing special besides Ginny who came in crying. Definitely have to ask her with Hermione about that later in detail.
As desert comes I look around the table, meeting Cormacs eyes. He licks of some ice cream from his fingers and wiggles his eybrows at me. Oh god I think I‘m gonna throw up.
As soon as I can I look away to Mattheo who was giving Cormac one of his death stares. Interesting.
I don‘t really know why i think it‘s a good idea but i do think it is. So I lean back a little, presenting the low cut at the front of my chest. I see Mattheo‘s eyes flicker to my chest and so do Cormac‘s but Mattheo‘s eyes switch back really fast to Cormac and give him a second glare. Really interesting.
I smile triumphal and lean a bit forwards again, pressing my boobs together this time. Instantly I get a headache but a really intense one. I hiss in pain which makes Harry look at me worried. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah I just got an really bad headache.“ i whisper back, wondering what it caused.
Soon the dinner was over and everyone thanked Slughorn for the invitation. "I‘ll stay and try to figure out what that missing memory of Slughorn‘s is." Harry whispers to us before staying behind.
My headache got a bit better but It still didn‘t go away. As we walked trough the door I said to Hermione and Ginny "You guys go to the common room, I‘ll follow. I just wanna get some advil from Miss Pomfrey.“ They nod and tell me that they will go into Ginny‘s room to talk more privately.
It‘s already late and a bit after curfew but Professor Slughorn told us he made sure we would get in no trouble If someone sees us.
I rub my head slighty, trying to ease the pain on my way but nothing helped.
Then, out if nowhere a hand slaps over my mouth and a arm wraps around me, pressing me against a body. I scream into the hand, trying to get myself free until I see who the hand and arm belongs to.
"You didn‘t think I would let you go off that easily in that little dress of yours huh?“ Mattheo breathes against my face as it was only a few inches away from mine.
He slowly takes his hand away from my mouth, letting me speak. "What do you mean?" I ask and try the innocent act but he doesn‘t buy it.
"Oh princess, princess, princess. You can‘t fool me. I know that you wore this excuse of an dress for me. Fuck and also in my house color's? That‘s no fucking coincidence."
I gulp at his words and the fact that he knows who I wore it for. There‘s not even a single chance for me to lie. "And what If I did wore it for someone else?" Only one way and that‘s to push his last buttons. Oh how I wanted to push that buttons until –
"Someone else, yeah? Then who was it for?" "Cormac." As soon as his name left my mouth I regretted it. I see his jaw clenching and his grin fading. "Cormac yeah? So you didn‘t thought about me the whole dinner?" I slowly shake my head no, not daring to move now.
"So you‘re wet for him right now? Not me?" "What? I‘m not–" but as soon as I move my legs I feel it too. Shit. When I only look up at him his grin comes back.
"Yeah that‘s what I thought.. so why don‘t we skip this bullshit and you come with me?" Before I can even answer him, he takes my hand and pulls me trough the corridors, towards the Slytherin common room. " Mattheo I can't-" "Shut up." he hisses and whispers something under his breath so the doors to his common room would open.
"Can't fucking believe you pulled such a show in front of that stupid dick." he growled quietly before we reach his dorm. I start smiling as I see he's getting mad at the fact that Cormac saw me in that dress. "T'fuck you smiling about huh?"
As we enter his room I notice that there is only one bed which makes me wonder. "Don't you have a roommate?" "No, I have my own room." I scoff at his answer and look around his room. It has a big bed beside the window of the room and a little nightstand beside it. On the other side of the room is a big couch and a armchair.
But before I could think about it any further, he pulls me into his lap, face towards his, after he sat down on the armchair. "You know, you could have just told me If you missed me princess. Didn't need to dress all up for me." He puts his hands on my hips, grabbing them tightly.
I roll my eyes at him and act as If I didn't already enjoy his touch. "Didn't miss you." I say, looking away from him. He chuckles and pulls my face back to his with his fingers on my chin. "Are you sure?" I only nod and look into his brown eyes. They look so dark without any light in the room, that they send even more shivers down my spine than usual.
"Is your head better? Still in any pain?" he asks me grinning. "Yeah they-" wait. I never told him about my headache. Or could he hear when I told Hermione and Ginny? Or when Harry asked me at dinner?
His hands slowly wander down to my tights were my dress slowly rose up and placed them there, squeezing my flesh lightly. I felt his breath on my neck, giving me goosebumps. "It's gotten better, right?" he asks again. His lips ghosted over my skin, making me bite my lip.
"How do you know?" I ask him in a whisper. "I know everything that goes through your pretty little mind baby."
I tried to figure out what he meant by that but I couldn't concentrate with his hands on my skin and his lips almost against my neck. I need him so much.
"What baby, can't concentrate? Too much for you already?" he coos and finally kisses my neck, nibbling on the skin between his lips.
I can't believe how easy he gets under my skin with his kisses and whispers, not even doing anything. " I know you dreamed about me these last two weeks, thought about me at every chance you got. In class, in the shower, wishing it was me who touched you." he groaned against my throat.
My eyebrows squeeze together at his words. " How would you know that?" "Did you never wonder why your head always hurted at the same times?" I gasp and pull my neck away from him. " Are you reading my mind?" my eyes go wide as he just smiles at me sheepishly. Oh my god, no. This can't be. He's not allowed to know all these private thoughts.
"You don't know how hard it was for me to stay away and wait until you would come back to me but you little minx didn't and after tonight.. I couldn't just let you slip away from me again."
"Y-you can't do that Mattheo. That's not allowed. These are my thoughts." "I know baby but I couldn't help myself after that night in the shower. You were like a dream coming true so submissive and responsive to me. Fuck I'm already getting hard just thinking about it. But you understand I didn't have a chance, right? I couldn't risk you thinking about someone else then me."
He slowly pulled my dress up, exposing my tights and underwear. "God are you for real? Did you plan this?" he groans as he sees my matching set, a dark green lingerie set.
He pulls me closer to him, looking deep into my eyes.
"Ride my thigh." he commands and puts his hands back on my hips. "What?" I ask, looking at him dumbfounded. " It's my thigh or nothing. I'm not helping you getting off this time." I look at him with my mouth hanging open in shock. How could he be so cruel?
"C'mon, ride it baby I know you thought about it at dinner." My cheeks got red as he mentioned that. He dips his head towards my neck again and starts covering it in wet kisses. "Don't test my patience, love." he whispers and tightens his grip on my hips, moving them slowly. I gasp at the sudden friction.
"Feels good, right?" I only nod, closing my eyes as I start to move my hips in circles against his thigh. I feel so dirty doing this but at the same time it feels so good to finally get the friction I needed the last weeks again.
I feel my clit rubbing against my underwear, making me whimper and move my hips faster. "Fuck, look at you. I thought you were desperate back in the shower but now you're just getting yourself off on my thigh like a dirty little whore." I moaned at his words combined with his kisses on my skin. His lips went lower, first towards my collarbones, then further down to my chest.
I feel one hand of him wander to my underwear and pushing it to the side so my bare pussy rubbed against the material of his pants. I whine at the feeling, my hands grabbing his broad shoulders. " Oh my god. I'm so close Mattheo." He laughs wickedly against my chest, pushing down my dress so it hangs at the middle of my body. His mouth wanders to my bra, unclasping it with one hand behind my back.
"You're so beautiful baby, never ever am I waiting two weeks again for that." he growls and starts massaging my boobs and playing with my sensitive nipples.
I arch my back, shivers run down my spine at his touch. The grinding get's more and more intense. "Feel this?" he asks as he takes my hand and puts it on his bulge. "It's just for you." I bite my lip and look down at my hand. It looks so painful that I start massaging it through his pants. He bucks his hips up into my touch, his breathing getting heavier.
While still riding his thigh, I open his pants and push them down together with his boxershorts. His already fully hard cock slaps against his stomach before I take him into my hand. I spread the pre-cum over his tip with my thumb and start moving my hand up and down. "Shit princess.." he hisses, thrusting his hips up into my hand.
"I'm so close Mattheo.." I whine as I almost start rutting my hips against him. "Come on my leg baby, do it." he groans, lips apart.
I let go of his cock for a moment to dig my nails into his shoulders for support as I press my throbbing clit harder against him. He takes his cock into his hand and jerks himself off as he watches me panting and moaning.
With a deep twisting feeling in my stomach I come all over his thigh, riding out my orgasm.
"So good for me, look at how much you came." he says and I look down at his pants, a big wet spot on them now. My legs still shake from my high and I look up at him again.
Mattheo's POV:
Fuck. I don't know what it is but I have a feeling that this girl is going to be the death of me. With hooded eyes she looks up at me and almost get's me to cum in my own hand just from her eyes looking into mine. She had such a chokehold on me, but I will never admit that to her.
I smile down at her before I speak "already fucked out again and I didn't even touched you." The same thing I told her two weeks ago after I've eaten her pussy and she came after 3 minutes.
"Fuck off." she mumbles and falls slightly against my chest. "As much as I enjoy this closeness baby.." I start, nodding towards my rock hard cock, laying against my stomach.
I push a strand of hair behind her ear and whisper into it. " Suck on it." Her eyes go wide and she looks down on me with those innocent eyes again. " Don't tell me you never sucked cock with those pretty lips." I say, looking at her plump lips, almost begging to be fucked.
She rolls her eyes at me again, making me want to choke her until she stops. " I have." Her answer makes my clench my jaw, wishing she would've just said she didn't.
I pushed her down in front of my legs. I grab a pillow from the couch beside us and put it under her knees, making her grin. " Don't tell me you suddenly care for me Matty?" Now I am the one who rolls his eyes.
I grab her pretty hair into a ponytail and push her towards my cock. She takes it into her hand and starts to lick off the pre-cum from my tip. A moment later she starts sucking on my tip, making me smile. I have a feeling this is going to be good.
I hiss as her wet lips and warm mouth take more of my cock into her mouth. I close my eyes and let my head hang backwards. " Come on y/n, show me what you got."
Suddenly she takes me all the way down her throat, my eyes almost bulging out of my head and my mouth falling open. "Oh fuck, yeah!" I groan, gritting my teeth together. I swear I could feel her smile around me.
She bobs her head up and down in a fast pace, making me moan and groan like a little bitch. Fuck, what is it with this girl?
I feel my tip hitting the back of her throat. " Oh Shit." I lift my head up to look down at her. Her eyes are teary and her hands support herself on my tights. I start grinning, wishing I could take a picture of her pretty mouth around me.
Her throat clenches around me so delicious I almost came. "Hmm baby, you know how to suck cock. Gonna give you that." I pant.
One of her hands go down to my balls, massaging them. " Oh - " I throw my head back again, feeling something in my lower stomach. My hips buck up and I hear her gag, only getting me closer to my high. "M' gonna cum down your throat and you'll swallow it, yeah?" I ask her, breathing heavy. It doesn't take me long to cum and fill her mouth. "Fuckkk.." I groan, pushing her down even harder so her nose touches my stomach.
"Swallow it. All of it." I slowly let go of her, but seeing her cough a little only fuels my desire. She opens her mouth after she swallows and shows me that she swallowed every single drop.
"That's a good girl. Now come on.. let's take a shower." I say grinning at her and helping her back up. "Mattheo I don't know If I can walk so far." she sighs as she stands on her still shaky legs.
I kiss the top of her head, something I never do but just feels right with her. " You don't have to. I have my own shower." I pick her up bridal style and carry her towards my bathroom."
Y/n's POV:
As he picks me up to carry me, I feel a few butterfly's in my stomach but I try to suppress them.
He let's me down when we stand under his shower. His clothes hit the floor. "Hot or cold?" he ask, putting his hand on the tap. "Hot." I say and watch his back. Last time I didn't noticed but he has big scars all over his back, some even on his chest. He must see my face cause he asks me "What's wrong?" I shake my head and try to smile.
"Nothing." I see it in his eyes that he doesn't buy my lie but doesn't push me either. As the warm water hits my skin, I sigh in relief. I let my hair get wet and wash off the makeup I had on. While I did so, Mattheo stands right behind me, his hands on my hips, scanning my face.
I open my eyes and see him looking. " What?" I ask grinning. " You're beautiful." I roll my eyes and look away again, trying to hide my blush. "You don't have to try to get into my pants. You already are." He turns me around and holds my face. " Hey.. I really mean it. And not just your body. Your face is prettier than the ones of angels." My eyes widen at his words, not expecting that kind of words from him.
He clears his throat and looks away for a moment himself. That's when I grab his face in both my hands and crash my lips into his. The kiss is hungry, more passionate and different than the last times. More tender.
One of his hands slide up and down my back, while the other lays on my hip. "You make me crazy, princess." he admits, mumbling against my lips. I smile into the kiss. "Don't go soft Mattheo." I say, teasing him.
He starts kissing my neck, but less soft and more aggressively now. "Remember who's in charge here baby. I would choose your words wisely." He lifts me up so I wrap my legs around his waist. "This time I wanna see your face when I fuck you."
He takes his cock into his hand and positions it at my entrance, teasing me with it. „Mattheo come on, fuck me.." i huff out frustrated. "Beg for it, wanna hear you beg again like the last time I fucked you." I roll my eyes at his ego, but still do as he tells me to. "Please, I'm already begging you to fuck me."
Ge grins down at me and slowly pushes inside me, holding eye contact the whole time. His lips part and his eyes get lazy. "Fuck, you feel just as good as the first time I fucked you stupid."
I want to bite back but only bite my lip as he starts thrusting in a fast and hard pace. "What was that? I'm going soft princess?" His grip on my hips gets tighter and he starts kissing my neck up and down. " N-no you're not.." I whimper, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back against the wall.
What was is that he had me under his control so much? Not even a single brain cell told me to not do as he says. I can't with this boy..
His lips work their way up to my ear and he whispers "I'm a man baby, a boy wouldn't fuck you like I do. " Goosebumps erupt over my body and again he's right. " Stop messing around in my head." I growl lightly, supressing a moan in my throat. "You're all mine. I don't give a shit about how you see that, cause I know your body screams for mine every night. And it will never get someone else's. Do you understand?"
He stops kissing my neck and looks at me while thrusting his hips against mine. A shiver run down my spine as I looked into his eyes, but this time not a good one. It was ice cold. I never saw him looking tat serious and cold. Possesive. "Do. You. Under. Stand." he asks me again, deep and hard thrust for every word.
"God yes, Mattheo. I understand!" I cry out as his fingers find their way towards my clit, rubbing it in circles. My nails leave marks all over his back, drawing a little blood.
He starts hissing but laughing at the same time at the pain. He's gonna be the death of me. "No, you're gonna be mine, princess. Do that again with your nails, turns me on." As I don't, he mumbles a quite "okay" and presses me harder against the shower wall, fucking me even deeper and more brutal. My nails find their way back inside his skin and I'm sure If we had been o the bed It would be broken by now.
"When are you gonna learn to not be a little brat, huh?" he asks, a smirk on his face. "I own you now, baby." I let out half a snort half a chuckle. " Do I own you then too?" I ask sarcastically. " You own every inch of me."
My face falls a little at his answer, not expecting it. Did he mean that?But as soon as my thoughts started, I forgot them as he starts to rub my clit even harder, but in a steady rhythm.
"Oh yeah look at that in pleasure twisting face, that's fucking it." he groans, his thrust becoming more erratic. One hand leaves my hip and wraps itself around my throat, squeezing it with the perfect amount of pressure. A broken scream leaves my lips with my eyes rolling back.
"Yeah scream so loud Cormac hears who‘s name you‘re moaning tonight." I press my lips together but he squeezes my throat tighter. My walls clench around him, making him lose his control, eyes rolling back a bit with a smile to it. "I love that pussy so much fuck.I bet he can't fuck you like I can, huh?"
This time my answer comes in a instant. " No- no he can't. I'm so close Mattheo, please." I moan as I feel this deep twisting feeling in my stomach. His lips meet mine, to my surprise. Unlike how he fucks, he kisses me soft and passionate. "Come around me baby.Please fucking come around me." he groans almost desperate.
And just like that I let go and let the feeling of my orgasm overflow me. "Hm shit.. can I come inside you baby?" Mattheo pants against my lips while he looks down between us. I just nod quickly, feeling him coming inside me a few seconds later. "Shit.." a whimper leaves his lips as he fills me up.
My stomach twists again at the sound so I look at him and scan his face for a moment. I think that's the hottest sound my ears ever came across. He looks fucked out too, his eyes heavy.
He slowly pulls out but still holds me. "You make me so addicted." he confesses to me, looking between my eyes and lips. I had to. " So you're going soft now again?" I tease him, out of breath.
He chuckles lowly which ends with me bent over every single surface in his room.
I don't know how long I can survive in that.
I just know ya‘ll hate and love me for posting this.. after weeks :) <3
There‘s gonna be a part 3, the final then. Hehe.
Taglist: @idk-simra @kindnessspreads @purplegardenwhispers @glittervame @oxi8 @lovelyygirl8 @yakosobaboba | thank you for supporting guys 🫶🏻
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xoxo sarah <3
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missmielyhoran · 10 months
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He looks up grinning like a devil
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your parents think their sweet catholic girl is in the city working as an assistant to big ceo but is she really?
(Sugardaddy!Harry × reader)
A/N- Idk where this came from lmao
[Warning- Smut, if you squint you will find the plot, slight voyeurism, oral (fem receiving), virgin reader, Harry being a dream ngl, daddy kink]
Masterlist
*****
You were skipping up the office stairs leading to the elevator, hands full of shopping bags and lunch from his favorite restaurant you picked up.
You hummed the song you were listening to in the car and greeted everyone back. To everyone, you were Harry's younger beautiful girlfriend or dumb arm candy, as some said, you didn't care. Everyone either wanted to be or have you, and it was thrilling.
You reached on Harry's floor and greeted his assistant, who was a sweet guy looking not much older than you.
You pushed opened the door to Harry's office and saw him typing away on his computer, his blazer thrown over the back of his office chair, his sleeves rolled up and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.
You bite down on your lips to not whimper out loud, but the small sound you made got his attention. He smirked, looking up like the devil your parents warned you your whole life about.
Oh, your parents would have a heart attack if they knew.
He raked your whole body up and down. You were wearing the short, flowy red dress he loves. Your hair is half tied up by a ribbon with few in front framing your face and a simple cross laying between your breasts.
"What are you doing so far away babygirl?" Harry said, leaning back in the chair and spreading his thighs more, inviting you in.
You put down the shopping bags near the entrance and walked towards him with the food packets in hand.
"I brought your favorite food" you said, lifting the food packet in the air in front of Harry. He pulled you on his lap and put the food on the desk.
"Thank you so much love but I want to start with desert today" He said as his fingers found his way towards your dripping pussy.
"It will go cold-""I will order another one" He said while nipping on your neck and once his fingers found your clit you forgot about everything that wasn't him.
Harry gently picked you up, and your heel claded legs wrapped around his waist on instinct. He kept nipping on your neck as he put you down on the desk.
His hands worked skillfully as he took off your panties and slid down on his knees, leaving open mouth kisses all over you. You were gasping for air, but he didn't care. He loved it when you let out breathless whimpers.
It was a heavenly torture.
"Always so wet for me, aren't you baby?" He said cockily. He kissed your inner thighs and watched you squim with lust blown eyes.
His thick finger ran up and down your sodden folds while his other hand ran up your body and gripped your chin, keeping your eyes on his.
Keeping the eye contact on he leaned closer and kitten licked your pussy making you let out a small whimper. He grinned like a devil, looking up, and all the hell broke lose in the best way possible.
He sucked on your clit while his middle finger circled your entrance all while his eyes watched all your moves. Then suddenly he pushed whole finger in, in one go making you almost scream out.
"Mr. Styles the papers- Oh my god" You heard someone say behind you but you couldn't have cared less. The person yelled series of sorrys and ran out of the office as fast as they could and you knew you will be the talk of the whole office tomorrow.
You clenached around Harry's finger as he pushed another one in. He chuckled and pulled back from your swollen clit.
"Your virgin little pussy is gripping my fingers you tight. I can't even fathom about how my cock will feel" He said taking eyes off you and watched the mess you were making on his hand.
"You know how many times I have come at night thinking about fucking your brains out." He asked gripping your cheeks so hard they hollow up, your lips part but nothing except airy moans come out.
"You're a mess on my fingers babygirl what will you do if I take you right here? huh?" He said standing up to his full height in front of you and leaned down to capture your lips into a open mouth kiss.
"Good little Christian girl is sitting on a office desk getting finger fucked by her older sugar daddy. What will your parents think?" He shook his head, "Such a whore" He clicked his tongue mocking you.
Meanwhile your eyes were getting blurry and the coil in your stomach was inching to breaking point. It wasn't helping that his words, so sinful words were escalating it.
"Be a whore, my beautiful whore and come on my fingers. Come for daddy babygirl" He said as he increased the pace of his fingers, repeatedly hitting the spot inside you.
And then everything went white, you were floating away on the cloud, angels were singing, and you were in pure ecstasy.
Maybe this was the heaven your mother talked about.
You didn't realize you have lost your balance and was now laying on the cold glass desk of Harry. He pulled his fingers and thank god you were so out you and sucked them clean couldn't see it cause you would have jumped his bones.
After a few moments you came back to duller life and out of you colorful cloudy world.
"There she is. You okay babygirl?" Harry asked as his fingers rubbed circles around your knees in comforting way.
"Yeah" You said breathless, "Very tired" You added. Harry laughed and pulled you off the desk.
"C'mon let's take all this and go home." He said picking up all the bags and lunch and kissed your sweaty forehead.
You smiled and followed him out, and if you weren't so out of it, you would have realized he called his house home for the first time.
*****
Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @lomlhstyles @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515 @yeehawbrothers @sleutherclaw @ikea2-0 @thechaoticjoy @astridcommings @grapejuicebluesrry @gxbiqs
I know I said I will update stages of grief and I will but I didn't want to leave you guys without anything so here is little something.
I hope you guys liked it and if you did please tell me here♡ I love it when you guys talk to me
Please take care of yourself and drink some water. Love you.
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hugsandharrystyles · 21 days
Text
The Chase
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WORD COUNT: 1.2k
SUMMARY: Harry is obsessed with you (or your pussy).
Harry Styles would not stop following you.
You both had hooked up at a frat party two weeks ago in a dingy bathroom, and ever since, he's been searching for you everywhere.
Somehow, he's outside of all your classes, waiting for you so that he could try and woo you. His persuasions were overlooked because you were not in the mood for anything any college frat boy was trying to pull.
You had only come to this party because your friend had dragged you along with the promise of alcohol.
You seriously needed to get wasted and perhaps make out with a cute boy, but it was proving hard to do because of the chase you were involved in. As soon as you had walked in the door, you were on the run from Harry.
Right now, you were in the crowded kitchen, the room was glowing red from the solo cups taped on the lights, and it was definitely setting the mood for the horny college students.
You were filling your cup when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist in a secure hold.
"Baby, please," You heard begging in your ear, and then his crotch was grinding into your ass.
"Harry-" You begin, but you were cut off by the rolling of his hips again. "You realize how pathetic you are?" You said while laughing. He whined in your ear and squeezed you harder.
"Stop running from me," He counters. "Just come with me outside for bit, hm?" He asks.
"Harry-"
"Please," He begs.
"Fine," You huff and grab his hand to start walking outside. Harry has a shy, yet smug smile on his face as you drag him out of the house. People look and furrow their eyebrows at the two of you, but Harry does not care. He's whipped, and he knows it.
"Over here," He says and points to a lounge chair close to the bonfire. There's a decent amount of people around but not nearly as bad as inside. He sits down first and drags you to sit on his lap.
"Harry- Jesus," You sigh and adjust yourself. He buries his face in your neck and inhales you in.
"I've missed you," He breathes.
"Harry, we had one mediocre hook-up in a trashy frat bathroom," You remind him.
"Mediocre?!" That had gotten his attention. He adjusts you to where he can see your face better. "That was the best sex of my life," He tells you.
"Well, that's sad," You inform him, and he has to physically stop his jaw from dropping.
"What in the hell are you talking about? I made you cum," He reminds you, but your face sours. "Didn't I?" You shake your head and suppress the smile that wants to appear on your face from this boy getting humbled. "But- But you told me you came," He questions you.
"Yeah, so I could get out of there," You couldn't hold back the small chuckle that escapes you that time. "Harry, don't get me wrong, you aren't bad and definitely are the biggest I've ever been with, but maybe you need to work on your stamina," You explain and run your fingers through his hair because of his pitiful face.
"Well, it's not my fault you have this magical pussy!" He says a bit too loud. Some people look over with incredulous looks on their faces, and you punch his shoulder. "Couldn't help it when you're so wet, tight, and fucking warm- Oh, God," He groans as if remembering. His nose is back in your neck and arms around your body, squeezing once again. "Smell so good and so soft too," He says as he squeezes the extra plush on your body, something you're usually insecure about but feel super confident with the way this boy is drooling for you.
"You've gone mad," You resort to.
"I don't care," He rebuts. You roll your eyes and pat his back.
"Ay, Styles! Look at you fuckin' whipped," You hear one of his annoying frat brothers call out to the two of you.
"And fucking what about it?" He snaps back, and you see the arrogant meathead cower down in his seat.
"Harry, maybe we should-"
"Go to my room, so I can actually take care of you?" He offers.
"I'll give you one more shot," You sigh, and his head perks up like he didn't expect you to say that.
"Actually?" He says and is about to jump to his feet.
"My clock is ticking," You sigh, and suddenly, you're being thrown over his shoulder, and he's running into the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. Hoots, hollers, and whistles are thrown to both of you, but neither of you are paying attention to it. You're immediately thrown on the bed when you get into his room. Harry had locked the door, so no one will be interrupting the two of you.
"I'm going to eat you out," he says breathlessly. "Should punish me for how rude I was to you last time. Didn't eat you out or make you cum- fuck, I'm sorry," He pants and rips your skirt and shoes off your body. His mouth is about to press against your puffy pussy through your underwear when you stop him.
"Wait," you say and hold his hair to stop him.
"What?" He whines and dramatically drops his face into the bed.
"You're right," you tell him and yank on his hair to get his attention.
"About what, baby?" He whines in impatience.
"You should be punished," You agree and sit up, pulling your body away from him. His jaw drops and his face is like you've just stabbed him.
"Are you- are you serious?" He asks and starts to inch his way closer to you.
"I mean, you're the one who said it. I'll be nice and still have sex with you, but I have one rule," you tell him and press your foot against his chest to keep him away.
"Anything. Anything at all- I swear," He assures you, and you smile.
"You're not allowed to touch me," you say, and he scoffs.
"You can't be serious," He pants.
"It's this or nothing," you say and start to get up from the bed.
"No, no, please, I'll do it. I'll do it," He promises.
"You're pathetic," you laugh, and he glares at you. "Wipe that look off your face," You scold him, voice surprisingly dominating, and he immediately does. It's hilarious the power you seem to have over this arrogant frat boy. "Sit against the headboard," you tell him, and he doesn't think twice before doing what you say. You get up and start rummaging through his closet.
"What- what are you doing?" He asks, trying to stay still in his spot, but his curiosity is getting the best of him. Once you have what you were looking for, you turn and approach him, your hands hiding the object behind your back.
"Get up," You command, and he jumps off the bed. "Take your clothes off," you say further. He rips everything off besides his boxers. "I didn't say stop, big boy," you tell him, and he blushes. He sheepishly pulls down his underwear and fights the urge to cover himself. Your smirk deepens as you gaze over his body. "On the bed," You command, and as he leans himself against the headboard, you rid yourself of the rest of your own clothes. Harry's eyes cloud over as his eyes take you in. You're truly the most enthralling woman he's ever met.
"Thank you," He whispers as you straddle his lap, his hands gently rest on your plushy thighs. You almost feel bad for what you are about to do, but your horniness brings you out of it.
"Very sweet," you say and place a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He moans lightly and tries to turn his head to fully capture your lips, but you move away at the perfect time. You take his hands in yours and tie them together with the tie you found in his closet. His eyes widen and his cheeks flush even deeper. "This okay?" You ask and run your fingers through his hair.
"Y-Yes. Never done something like this before, but it's v-very okay," He assures you and tips his head back when you start kissing at the skin on his neck. His hands that are tied together twitch on his stomach and reach to where his dick lays, playing with himself for some much-needed stimulation. His moans get louder, and he feels cum drip from his thick pink tip.
"The fuck are you doing?" You suddenly ask, straightening yourself in time to see Harry playing with himself.
"I'm- I'm sorry. It's just- I'm really fucking horny, and it hurts," He tries to explain but you roll your eyes and scoff.
"You know, this is why I haven't let you fuck me again. Fuckin' selfish," You mock, and he shakes his head.
"No- No, I'm not. Please," He whines, his hand straining against the tie. "Don't go, please," He begs. You stare down at him intensely, and he has no choice but to cower under your glare. Out of nowhere, you suddenly drop yourself down onto his length, rubbing and sliding against where it lays against his stomach. "Oh!" He gasps as he feels your hot wet pussy slide over him.
"I'm going to take what I want from you," You decide and place your hands against his chest to get a better form. Your tight hole begins to catch itself on his tip when you push down on him, and you see Harry biting his lip so hard you think it might bleed. You continue sliding your pussy over him until his dick is twitching and leaking with cum.
"You got to stop if you don't want me to cum," he says, his voice strained and tight.
"You need to work on your stamina," you remind him and grab his cock, positioning him with your tight entrance.
"Oh, God- Oh, God," He chants as you slide his tip in. His hips stagger, making him slide in a bit deeper, so you press on his stomach to keep him down.
"Easy," You command, and he looks as if he could cry. You fuck yourself on the tip of his cock, getting your entrance to spread, but he's just so fucking big. You look down at him, and he has that same fucked out expression on his face. "Don't you fucking dare," you say and begin to insert more of him into you.
"Then fucking stop!" He whines. He almost cries when he feels your fingers squish into his cheeks, making him look into your eyes.
"You're not making the fucking rules here, frat boy. I told you if I was going to do this again, it was going to be by my terms, not yours, so shut the fuck up and stay still," You command, and you see tears gather in his eyes. You roll your eyes and slide down on him even further, about halfway in now. He chokes on a sob of pleasure and strains his fists in his lap.
"I'm sorry," he says before you feel his hips buck up into yours and his heavy load spurting into your pussy. The sensation almost makes you cum, but you push it away so you can see his pretty face as he orgasms. His body is trembling, and it feels like his high lasts forever. He feels you untie his wrists, and he subconsciously flexes them out of their stiff position. His breathing is rapid as he comes down, and a smile is graced across his lips until he feels you start bouncing on his sensitive cock again. "Oh, fuck! What are you doing-"
"I didn't come, asshole," You spit and grind yourself on his hardening dick.
"I'm too s-sensitive," He slurs, his hips tensing away and his hands coming up to grab your plushy hips. His mouth his dropped, and his head falls back. "I might be in love with you," He gasps, and you laugh.
"Shut up," You giggle, but you are cut off when his hips thrust up into you and his fingers come down to play with your clit. "Fuck, your dick is too good," You moan and don't have time to react before you're shoved onto your back, Harry above you. His hands push your thighs to your chest, and his hips piston into your squelching cunt. "Oh!" You gasp and suddenly feel your own orgasm starting to arrive.
"Cum for me, please cum on my dick," He begs and brings one hand to your mouth to pry it open before spitting directly into your mouth. "Swallow," He whispers. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pounds into your pussy like an animal.
"I'm gonna fucking cum," You almost scream and start to shake.
"I'm filling your pussy again," Harry moans and grounds himself into you, basically sitting on you and filling you with all of his fat cock. Your hand instinctually reaches out and pushes at his toned stomach, but the weight of him, and the feeling of him deep inside your body only makes your orgasm so much better.
"So deep," You whisper and squirm.
"Take it, take it," he almost begs as he cums, his own orgasm shooting inside of you and sticking you two together. You're both shaking at the intensity of your orgasms.
Sounds of panting fill the room as you both settle. Harry flops down onto your chest, and you reach around to rub at his back, very well-aware of his half-hard dick still deep inside you.
"You're hard already?" You ask.
"Wanna go again?"
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lilahisntsadanymore · 4 months
Text
Blood status seems to become less important when you acknowledge the actual feeling of love. What will Theo do when Y/n comes to the terms with the differences between them being impossible to ignore?
Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!reader
Words count: 1.9k
Author's note: My apologies for keeping you waiting so long, but I finally got some time off at uni!! Wishing you all a good year!!
Kind of a 2nd part of this fic, but you can read it without the previous one
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Keep you safe
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One evening, Theo was waiting in the library. Waiting for a person he never expected to talk to. Y/n Granger. He found himself feeling a bit nervous, even though there was no reason.
Thinking about Y/n made him feel something. A feeling he never felt before. Slughorn said it's love, the muggle kind of love, the purest form, not induced by anything supernatural.
Theo decided to read about it. Hoping to find some book about it, he asked the librarian. She gave him a book specifically about love potions and spells. One of the first chapters was just what Theo was looking for.
"How to tell the difference between love and infatuation caused by magic." He whispered the first sentence to himself.
He started reading, his mind realizing what he got himself into as his gaze brushed over the text. Well, technically it wasn't his own fault and apparently also not the girl's fault.
But there must've been a reason. If love was a part of biology, brain chemistry, there had to be some logical factor.
"What are you reading?"
When Theo heard Y/n's voice right next to him, he immediately closed the book, causing it to make a loud sound.
"You took such a long time I got bored." He replied.
"Don't be so shy," the girl shifted her eyes to the title of the book, "oh, love potions and spells? But we're doing something completely different."
"Really? I couldn't care less, forgot what we were supposed to do." Surely one thing he'd love to do was making out with her on that table.
Y/n put her homework on the table.
"Read it and tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing is wrong, I just-"
"What's wrong with my text, Nott. I didn't ask how you were doing."
"Right."
Theo took the papers and started reading. The text was written with the most beautiful handwriting he's ever seen. So elegant, so precise.
"How long did it take you to write?" He asked.
"One evening. It was easier than you'd think."
"I think it's extremely easy." He bragged. "Anyway, is that all? Or do you wanna add something?"
"Well, Slughorn thought it's necessary for you to help me. Is there anything you think should be added?"
"Uh, no, it looks fine," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
"Fine? Theodore Nott, the perfectionist Slytherin, settles for 'fine'? I expected more from you."
"Look, it's not my homework, it's yours. I don't know why I agreed to help you, but it was pointless."
"You got yourself into this, could've said no."
"What the fuck am I even doing?" Theo asked rather himself than the girl. "I don't need to be helping a mudblood, who cares what grade you'll get." With these words, he stood up.
"Because-" Y/n stuttered. "Because... I've heard your conversation with Slughorn. And you said... that you liked me."
"Me? Liking you?" He snorted with laughter. "What the hell, Granger?"
Tears formed in Y/n's eyes as she watched Theo walk away. Sure, he was mean to her before, this wasn't the first time. But this time was somehow different.
Y/n could swear she heard Theo confessing to Slughorn that he's actually in love with her. It's not possible her brain played tricks on her. Plus Hermione said Theo told her about his feelings for Y/n.
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Harry walked onto the astronomy tower. Y/n was supposed to be back a long time ago. Ron and Hermione also wanted to go there, but Harry asked to let him go alone.
Harry knew where Y/n was thanks to the Map. He felt such relief not seeing Nott's name next to hers. She was standing alone, leaning on the banister. There was something in her hand, Harry couldn't see well in the dark, but from the smell he realized it was a cigarette.
"I didn't know you smoke." He spoke.
Y/n expected this to happen, she was aware of Harry's feelings towards her. She took one last drag from her cigarette then dropped it on the ground, put it out with her shoe and kicked off the tower.
"Why do you keep doing this?" Y/n asked, smoke leaving through her mouth. "I knew you're gonna look at your silly little map to see where I am."
"We were starting to get worried. Theo is... you know, dangerous. We got scared he would hurt you."
And he did. Theo did hurt Y/n, just not physically.
"Hermione should be here instead. But, let me guess, you told her you'll check up on me."
"Maybe," Harry admitted finally, "do you know why? Because I actually care about you. I've had feelings for you for years. I deserve you, not Nott. I deserve you, because-"
"Because you're the chosen one?" She mocked and paused. "Look, Harry, I like you as a friend. I've never felt anything more than this. I can't change how I see you and I won't pretend otherwise."
He nodded, acceptance settling in. "I get it. I just... I thought if I cared enough, it would make a difference."
"Caring is important, Harry, but it doesn't always lead to the feelings we hope for."
"Whoever you date, just don't date Nott, please."
"I promise I won't. Not after today, I'm over him."
"Care to share what happened?"
"I'll tell you, Hermione and Ron in the common room. Let's go, I've been here too long."
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Y/n didn't even know how wrong she was that night on the astronomy tower, but she forgot about it. Weeks went by, Christmas had passed, everyone were back from the break. Classes started again and Y/n found herself hoping to catch a glimpse of Theo.
They kept exchanging glances on the corridors, accidentally bumping into each other in the crowds. Y/n wanted to believe Theo liked her, but even if he did, they could never work.
"Y/n, listen to me," he said, catching her when she was alone in the library one time. "I know how things have been between us, but during the break I... I realized I don't wanna keep being enemies."
"Theo, you know it could never work. You said what you said and maybe it's better to leave it this way."
"I contemplated a lot," it was true, he spent the break mostly in his room, drowning in thoughts. About her, about them, coming to terms with what he was feeling. "I decided to accept my feelings."
"That's great for you, but we could never work. I've always 'fancied' you, I guess, despite what you were doing, ironically, but the time we worked on my project together, I accepted we could never work."
"And why's that?"
Y/n took a deep breath, wondering if he was stupid or just pretending. Maybe it was a bet he had with someone. Maybe Draco dared him to do this.
"You don't see how different we are? What do you expect is gonna happen? Would you introduce me to your father? Wouldn't you care that I'd get you disowned?"
Theo looked at her, Y/n could see sadness in his eyes. She realized her words made him realize the differences between them, because he walked away. Theo walked away without a word.
Y/n pierced her own heart with an invisible knife. She was really hoping they could work, but it just wasn't possible in this universe. Maybe there was a universe where none of this purity bullshit didn't exist. Y/n wished she would've been born there.
Y/n couldn't predict what Theo was going to do. She thought her words made him give up on her. It was for the best, of course, she should've focused on her studies firstly, and then on a realistic relationship.
It was a Friday. Y/n was sitting next to Ginny by the Gryffindor table. It was dinner time, all the students gathered in the Great Hall. All the students besides one Slytherin, the one that Y/n hoped to see. Maybe it was weird, but she enjoyed the sad looks they'd pass to each other.
"Hey, Y/n, are you listening?" Hermione asked from across the table.
"Sure," Y/n quickly shifted her eyes to her sister. "You were talking about Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"You've got divided attention. Stop looking at the Slytherin table."
"Ugh," Ginny groaned, "were you doing this again? Merlin, you stare at this Slytherin git 90% of the time."
"Well, he isn't here today. I wonder where he could be. Everyone else is here."
"There he is," Ron pointed out, rolling his eyes.
The golden trio and two younger Gryffindors looked at the doors' direction. Theo had just walked into the Great Hall, but surprisingly he didn't walk towards his table. He walked towards Y/n.
"Y/n," he spoke, catching everyone's attention. People were reading to witness another argument. "I can't help this, I love you."
Shocked noises came from all the tables, but Slytherins kept whispering between each other also when Theo continued talking.
"I don't care what anyone says, anyone thinks. Love is not meant to be controlled, it kills me to fight it."
Y/n stood up from the table, ready to leave the room.
"Theo, stop," she begged, "you're embarrassing us both. Your friends will-"
"I don't care what they do. If they don't accept it, they're not my friends. If anyone wants to fight me for having feelings for a muggleborn, I can fight, I've never lost a duel."
The whole Great Hall fell silent, even the teachers didn't try to intervene, when they saw Theo pulling out a small, black velvet box.
"I want you to wear this ring," he opened the box, "as my promise to always protect you from whoever tries to harm you or our relationship."
"It's beautiful, but..." Y/n was speechless by the sight of the ring. It was silver with two gemstones forming a subtle heart - half emerald and half ruby.
"It was custom made and if you accept it, I'll once get you a matching engagement ring. Also, there are thorns which will hurt you when you try taking it off. I want you forever, Y/n Granger."
The ring in the black velvet box sparkled under the enchanted ceiling. The Great Hall remained in silence as Theo poured his heart out, confessing his love. The unexpected turn of events had everyone on edge.
Slytherins exchanged intrigued glances, Gryffindors shared confused looks and even the teachers seemed to not know how to react. Y/n could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her, and for a moment, she considered the potential consequences of accepting Theo's proposal.
"Theo," she began, her voice breaking, "it's not that simple."
"I know it is. But I can't keep hiding my feelings, Y/n. I've tried, and it's tearing me apart. I'll protect you from whatever comes our way."
Y/n looked at the ring, then back at him. "I believe in second chances. And I appreciate your sincerity. I accept the ring, Theo."
Theo carefully took the ring from the box and gently slid it onto Y/n's finger. The Great Hall burst with cheering and applause, only the Slytherin table didn't seem so enthusiastic about this.
Theo placed his hands on Y/n's waist, pulling her in for a kiss. She didn't hesitate to kiss him back, her hands sinking in his dense her yet the ring on her finger still visible, reflecting the light from the ceiling.
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apparentlytheproblem · 8 months
Note
Theodore nott x Gryffindor fem! Reader fluff and soft smut she’s reading in his lap while he’s leaning against the bedpost reading with her holding the book and Turing the pages while she keeps reading it and it’s super smutty (maybe the actors spin-off book abt nesta and cassian-) and she just traces his arm veins while they read (and if you decide to make it smutty pls make the reader LOVE LOVE LOVE his hands, abs, arm viens-)
a l l u r i n g
fandom- Harry Potter
pairing(s)- theodore nott
a/n: hullo, I have my midterm math exam on Monday so its all rushed and i barely have time to post but this has me screaming and crying all at once. i could not find any hardcore smut from a court of silver flames , I couldn't find any hardcore smut from court of silver flames, I'm so sorry abt that. the scene you're reading out loud is written by none other than @lustingbones, featuring Dick Grayson. I've written her fanfic in cursive so as to not get confused. she has single handedly created an obsession for nightwing in me. here's the link to the inspiration :) requests are forever open, luv, teddy
requested- yes
warnings- mf this is an advanced apology, i've never written smut. i've never even held someone's hand romantically, hell, i can't even keep eye contact, soft smut, fluffy, vulgar language, they both are minors, no protection is mentioned, it might make you uncomfortable, the reading of smut, the writing of smut
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The sleeves of your black satin shirt had already fallen down your arms, the shirt itself was only being held up by two thin chains over your shoulder. it was basically as good as transparent, there wasn't a thing you couldn't see through it.
Theodore had leaned himself on his bedpost, his shirt was long gone. You were reading to him, your legs were on either side of his hips, your ass was cupped by his hand as he found utter joy in this situation. Your breasts were Infront of his face as he struggled not to get hard under you so quickly. Theo was never this grateful for being taller than you, he could just look down at you and get a perfect view. he wanted nothing more than to hold them in his hands and squeeze it or just rip the shirt off at this point.
"He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out."
your flingers grazed the hoops of his trousers, hooking them absentmindedly. sometimes they paused and was placed next to his hips.
“D-Dick, p-please baby-” a hitch in your voice. you could feel your pussy, but more than that, you could feel a lump in his pants.
"its so attractive when you say baby like that, but when i fuck you, its gonna be theo" he mumbled by leaning closer to your ear.
all you could do is nod as he signaled for you to continue.
“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you."
Theo's eyes were fixated on you. the way your voice was wavering, the way you squeezed your thighs, how a blush crept to your face. he loved how you got so shy with the pregnancy kink. it made him wonder if she had one herself.
"you're into that? why read about it when i can give you the full experience in 6D?"
you tried to waver him off, this was the last thing you needed in this situation
" "All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good.."
you could feel your own pussy throbbing. If you were being honest to yourself, you were thinking about you and Theodore. your head keeps going to the idea of him saying this to you, doing this to you and feeling him so hard just got you more turned on.
“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly."
your palm grazed his veiny arms, has he been working out? they've gotten so big..
“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up."
from palms to fingernails, they slowly trail up his forearm and roamed around his chest.
"Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back."
you find yourself adjusting to place your pussy right above his cock. you could see his face trying to not to show any signs of satisfaction. that was all you needed.
“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you." 
all he could concentrate about is trying not to break character. his eyes fixated on the elegant curve of your back beneath the clear fabric. her rough voice ran through his head in circles. he lifted an arm from his side, letting it play with the bottom buttons, almost only leaving one left. The only thing covering you up.
“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence."
you ran your arms down his abs, he loved your not so secret fixation you had for them. but you loved it more.
"You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you."
“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours. "
“So, help me..”
Theodore was done. He gently picked the book from your hand and placed it on his nightstand. both his hands went under your thighs as to place you on the bed so he could tower over you, his chain dangling Infront of your eyes.
"hi handsome" you said peering up to him. you pulled his arm to examine it. his veins looked so hot, just absolutley lovley to have around you.
"hey beautiful"
you take his hand, a quiet smile made way too your face as you rest it on your breasts
Theodore felt your hands as it unzipped his trousers leaving him in boxers. your hand slid up and down his dick in slow strokes, just to drive him mad.
he takes her into my arms still kneeling, hitching your leg around his torso before pulling you as close as possible. The kisses you shared were soft, unbothered needy but never rushed.
1K notes · View notes
teenidlegirl · 4 months
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꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓑𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝓝𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝓓𝐎𝐎𝐑 .ᐟ
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ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ biker!miguel 𝓍 fem!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡
꣑୧⠀˖ ࣪ .⠀𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚⠀.ᐟ⠀⊹ a charming guy with a bike moves next door. you two embark in an interesting connection which becomes something much more.
꣑୧⠀˖ ࣪ .⠀𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀.ᐟ⠀⊹ modern!au, neighbors to lovers, fluff, sprinkle of angst, slow-burn, tension, swearing, pet names, spanish terms, smut, references of sex, implied short reader, hispanic/latina!reader, long ass fic 【 mdni 】
( ꯭♡︎ ) ˖ ࣪ . love note ˒˒ this idea randomly popped in my head while listening to “outside” by calvin harris.
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the u-hual truck and several boxes on the curb. a new neighbor moving in, specifically next door to you. that house has been empty for some time and seeing it finally being occupied was a sight. looking through the blinds, you couldn’t see the new neighbors but only the two move-in guys. there seems to be a bike barked in the driveway, a black duacti to be exact.
oh now that is intriguing.
your new neighbor is a motorcycle rider. the bike is quite beautiful. your dad would be hella jealous since he adores ducatis. since there is a bike, where is the owner? scanning the area for the possible owner, a man dressed in all black with motorcycle jacket approached the u-haul truck to grab a big box that seems way too heavy to carry. but it seems the guy is a gym fanatic due to his bulky structure.
holy shit.
the dude is handsome as fuck.
dark chocolate locks along with some very visible strong cheekbones even from this distance. not only is he bulky as hell but also extremely freakishly tall. goddamn the man is probably over 6 feet. the move-in guys are only up to his collarbone and they are pretty tall themselves. this dude is a giant most likely.
this man is your new neighbor?
well fucking hell.
lifting your finger off from the blinds, you step away from your window to resume your day. although, it would be difficult to concentrate on anything since your mind is infiltrated with images of your new neighbor. you’ve never even met the guy and yet he’s all you could think about. get your shit together.
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you were returning home from work. pulling up into your driveway, you spot your new neighbor in his garage cleaning his bike. slowly getting out of your car, you sneak at glance at him without being suspicious. well, you’re wearing your black cateye sunglasses so nobody could tell if you’re looking directly at them or not. grabbing your purse and locking the car, you decide to introduce yourself.
fuck it, why not.
walking up his driveway to the garage, your ears were filled with music. the speaker be blasting linkin park. good music taste he has, definitely noted. he seems to not acknowledge your upcoming arrival since he’s too concentrated on cleaning his bike with a rag. now he must’ve acknowledge your presence as the corners of his lips curl up into a little smirk.
“ducati. badass.” you comment, stopping only a few feet from him so you don’t invade his space.
he let out an appreciative hum. “panigale v2.” his eyes never tear from the bike as he continues cleaning it with the black rag.
your eyebrows slightly raise in surprise. “my dad would be jealous. he used to own one but had to sell it to buy a car.” you cross your arms over your chest, obscuring him through your sunglasses.
“poor guy but understandable.” he wipes down the last bit of the bike before putting the rag away in a bucket next to him. “so which neighbor are you?” he never looks up at you as he starts scrubbing the front tire with a small black scrubby.
“next door to the left.” you tilt your head a bit to the side, digging your hands into the back pockets of your denim jeans.
“oh so you’re the one with the loud dog.” the guy couldn’t resist a smirk, sensing your light glare.
“not my fault he misses me.” you shrugged.
a low chuckle escapes his lips. “maybe you should be home more often.”
you look at him dumbfounded by his joke but you play along since it’s fun. “if only work was that easy. plus, he’s a husky, they’re criers.” that earns you another chuckle from him.
“what’s his name?”
“shane.”
you watch one of his thick eyebrows quirk upwards. “that’s an interesting name for a dog but it’s cool, quite unique.” after scrubbing the last bit of the tire, he drops the scrubby into the buckle, stands up from the little stool and turns to face you.
goddamn — he’s even taller than you thought. you have to crane your neck all the way up just to look at him. and dear lord this man is just pure muscle. the black shirt he’s wearing looks so tight on him that it acts more like a compression shirt. those broad shoulders stick out heavily, so mouthwatery. and that motherfucking waist, damn it’s so slutty that it’s a crime to have it that pinched. a damn greek god.
him on the other hand, traces your figure with his eyes. shit those denim jeans hug your thighs so perfectly, a little too tight to be honest which makes his chest warm. although, he was taken aback by your sunglasses, concealing your face that he desperately wants to see.
cleaning his hands with a clean rag, he walks up to you reaching out a hand to shake. “i’m miguel.”
you push your sunglasses on top of your head before taking his hand and gently shake it. “[y/n].” a little smile gracing your glossy lips with a head tilt.
miguel’s pupils dilate drastically from your face reveal. wow — you are very attractive, beautiful in fact. those gorgeous irises staring into his own and glossy lips that taunt him.
his pretty neighbor.
and he, your handsome neighbor.
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“fuck!” you slap the stirring wheel. the car isn’t working. just fucking great, now you’re gonna be late for work and your boss is gonna murder you.
well this is a shitty fucking day. first you slipped coffee over your cute white blouse, now your car is broken. a lot groan of frustration escapes your lips as you rest your forehead on the wheel.
your frustration didn’t go unnoticed by a set of brown eyes from next door. miguel was preparing to leave for the gym until he saw you shouting inside your car. he couldn’t help but smile in amusement watching you getting pissed off. the sounds of the failing engine answered his question. he watches you get out of your car and slam the door, a few curses in between spanish and english escaping your lips. resting his helmet on the bike, miguel slowly walks over with arms folded across his chest.
“dead engine?” he asks, head titled a bit.
a sigh of frustration escapes you, rubbing the temples of your forehead with one hand while the other rests on your hip. “yeah so now i’m gonna be late for work. chingado…” you rest your lower back against the car, not meeting his gaze.
“i can give you a ride.” miguel suggested, his eyes analyzing your expression and body language.
you shook your head. “no it’s fine. i’ll just take an uber.” you pull out your phone from your back pocket to open up the app but a large hand snatches your phone. “hey! what the fuck man—“
“you don’t need an uber. i’ll take you, end of discussion.” miguel turns around and walks back to his bike, your phone in his hand.
“dude—“ you groan, rolling your eyes. well, you don’t have any other option since he took your phone. letting out another sigh, you follow him to his garage. “can i at least have my phone back? i promise i won’t take an uber.” you cross your arms with ahead tilt.
he stares at you for a moment to see if you were lying or not. then, he hands back your phone which you take very swiftly and put in back in your pocket, making him smirk. miguel walks over to a shelf with a collection of helmets and grabs a red one. he walks back to you and hands you the helmet.
“you ever ridden one?” he asks as he puts on his gloves then his helmet.
“just once with my cousin but that was years ago.” you move your hair out of your face and put on the helmet. it’s quite big on you, considering it’s his so of course it’s big. luckily it has straps for adjustment. now it fits a little better, still loose but better.
he only responds with a low hum.
walking up to the bike, a moment of realization hits you. it’s a big bike, well, all motorcycles are big. maybe it’s because your small and short as fuck.
how the fuck are you gonna get on that thing?
“need some help?” his baritone makes you snap out of thought as if he knew.
“well…” you didn’t even get finish your sentence when you felt his hands on your waist and suddenly lift you up to place you on the bike, making you gasp as you instinctively hold onto his biceps as support. your reaction earns a low chuckle from him.
“you could’ve warned me, cabrón.” you shoot him a glare as you swing one leg over the bike so now you’re straddling it, shifting a little to be comfortable.
those brown irises land directly on your thighs. they got thicker and plumper when you sat down. his mouth instantly watered at the sight. thankfully for his helmet, you couldn’t see his stupid expression. without answering back, he gets on the bike. miguel lowers the shield of his helmet then grips onto the handlebars, clenching those gloved hands.
“scoot a bit closer.” he said, head turned to the side where he sees your from the corner of his eye.
you look dumbfounded at his request. is this dude serious? since you don’t obey, miguel reached behind and grabs under your thighs, pulling you closer until your chest is against his back. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the sudden motion. not gonna lie, your stomach did a summersault. now your face slightly flushed. you lower the shield of the helmet to hide it. at first you were hesitant to touch him but you have no other choice. very slowly, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his broad back. miguel can sense your hesitation, making him smirk underneath his helmet. gripping the handlebars once again, he turns his head to the side.
“hold on tight, chula.” he said so mischievously before turning on the engine and slowly start driving out of the garage then onto the road.
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so your growing friendship with your neighbor was interesting. is it even friendship? to be honest, it’s unclear what you two have. maybe an acquaintance since you’re simply neighbors. however, it feels more than just that. a strange bond between you two. but things got a little heated when you popped by while he was cleaning his bike, for the millionth time.
it was a hot day so you decided to wear a yellow summer dress. walking over to his opened garage, music blasts in your ears but you don’t mind. you’re a big music lover yourself. it’s the weeknd this time. this dude got great music taste. two of your favorite artists, linkin park and the weeknd. two things you have in common, definitely noted.
your pupils dilate drastically at the sigh of your neighbor. he wears a black wife beater that reveals his muscles so perfectly. holy fuck — he is built. each outline of his muscles is visible to the eye. but what makes your knees weak is those fucking gray sweatpants that hang below his waist.
fuck — he definitely chose that outfit on purpose.
snapping out of those horny ass thoughts, you approach him with crossed arms. “how many times do you clean that damn bike?”
miguel snorts, a little smirk gracing those plump lips of his. “gotta keep it perfect.” he uses a navy blue rag to wipe the front of the bike, sitting on a tiny stool.
“alright, mr perfectionist.” sarcasm at its peak but doesn’t affect him, only making him chuckle.
“at least i don’t have bird shit.” he teases.
you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “i haven’t had the chance to get a car wash. work has been up my ass lately.” you want to slap off that growing stupid smirk on his face so badly. ugh this motherfucker.
“i could clean it for you, chiquita. all you have to do is ask. but of course, there’ll be a price.” a mischievous smirk illustrating his face as he glances at you. his eyes widen a bit at your dress. how pretty you look in it, yellow definitely suits you.
“ugh as if i would ever pay you, no thank you.” so sassy but he likes that.
he gets from the tiny stool. “just saying, chiquita.” miguel walks over to the counter to grab some stuff.
you roll your eyes once again before walking over to his bike. it’s a really gorgeous bike, so polished and clean. you’ve only seen the classic red ducati so seeing a black is a surprise but a cool surprise.
you decide to sit down the edge of the seat, your feet dangling since you’re so short. the cold metal hitting against your skin of your exposed legs, making you shiver a little at the cold sensation.
turning around, a small smile crept onto his face when he sees you sitting on the bike. walking back, miguel grabs the little stool and placed it down in front of the back tire. he sits back down, right next to your left leg as he begins scrubbing the tire.
while he continues cleaning, you glance around his garage. bunch of car supplies and cleaning equipment. not much decor other than the shelves of plastic black boxes. you realize the entire garage glows under warm lighting. it’s golden hour. turning to face the driveway, you’re greeted with the bright vibrant sun shining down on you. luckily you have your sunglasses so you put them over your eyes. you relish the delicious warmth of the sun, leaning back a little on the bike.
a refreshing breeze passes by, making your hair flow gracefully in the air. but your hair isn’t the only thing affected by the wind. the skirt portion of your dress flows. as miguel’s eyes tear away from the spot he was cleaning, he noticed your dress flowing in the wind a little too freely as it flows upwards revealing your pastel yellow panties underneath. his eyes widen at the sight as he felt his face grow hot, hints of pink staining his cheeks. miguel quickly looks away when you look back, painting a neutral face as if he didn’t just see your panties.
“bitch ass wind.” you murmured in annoyance, flattening down your dress, fully unaware of the peeping tom next to you. glancing down at miguel, you noticed the slight hint of pink on his face, making you quirk an brow. “what’s up with you?”
while trying to remain normal despite the image of your panties infiltrating his mind, he brushed it off so casually. “the sun, it’s too much.”
you stare at him for a moment then decide to let it slide with a hum. it’s true, standing under the sunlight for a while makes you feel hot. one time you went to the beach, even with sunscreen yet you still got burnt. you understand him.
after some time, miguel finishes and puts the cleaning supplies back on the shelves. when he turns around and walks back, you’re still sitting on the bike as if it were yours. the sight makes him smirk.
“comfortable much?” he stands beside you, bulky arms crossed over his chest.
“surprisingly, yeah it is.” you glance down at your seat then back up at him. you’re taken back by how close he was, literally right next to you. he towers you so easily, even when you stand. your eyes instantly land on his arms, his muscles flexing. goddamn he’s so built it’s insane. thank god for your sunglasses but for some reason he can tell you’re staring by the smug look on his devilish handsome face.
you then decide to hop off the bike and walk back to your house without looking back. “later, guapo.” the skirt of your dress sways along with your hips, making miguel feel hot and bothered at the sight.
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since that day, miguel hasn’t been the same. those repeated images of your panties infiltrated his mind a like damn plague. no matter what he was doing or where he was at, those images haunted him to the point of insanity. don’t even ask what he does at night because it very obvious. jacking off in his bed, moaning and whimpering like a little bitch. bro was so horny that he felt embarrassed and ashamed for thinking about his neighbor like that.
curse the fucking wind that day.
like you said, “bitch ass wind.”
oh and don’t even start with his weird ass behavior afterwards. miguel started avoiding you like a virus. bro was so down bad for you that he couldn’t even stay in the same room with you. he tried to be like his normal self but low-key he was going insane. not only because of the pantie flash but really because miguel likes you. the sassy, sexy diva energy radiating from you he adores a lot. he couldn’t get you out of his mind. all miguel thought about is you.
you, on the other hand, were confused by the sudden silent treatment. whenever you would visit his place, the garage was always closed. you’d knock or ring the doorbell but no answer. when you did see him, miguel was already drifting off on his bike. not gonna lie, you were a bit butthurt by the sudden distance. did you do or said something wrong? did you make him feel uncomfortable? millions of negative thoughts ran through your mind, wondering the cause for miguel's distance.
after some time, you demanded some answers.
his garage was open for the first time in two weeks. although, miguel isn’t nowhere to be found. his bike is parked so it means he’s home, probably dealing with something inside. while waiting for him, you wander around the garage looking at his stuff.
returning from his room, miguel stops in his tracks the moment he sees you. oh fuck — the woman who’s been plaguing his mind for two weeks stands in his garage only for one reason; and that reason scares him. he nervously glups as he watches you turn around. shit — you’re wearing the damn yellow dress again; the dress that accidentally flashed you.
“hey. what the hell is up with you? you’ve been avoiding me like some fucking plague. did i do something wrong?” you walk towards him, brows furrowed in a concern manner.
ah shit — he knew this would happen.
“no. i’ve just been busy with work.” miguel walks past you, heading towards one of the shelves of supplies. he can feel his heart beating fast, feeling anxious, and his palms growing clammy.
you follow him with a disbelief look on your face. “clearly i did something wrong because we haven’t talked or hung out in two weeks.”
shit shit shit.
now his heart is racing fucking wild. how the hell is he supposed to tell you? he can’t even look at you in the eye, too embarrassed and ashamed.
okay now you’re worried, or confused, or both to be honest. his strange behavior is now getting on your nerves. you notice his clenched fists at his sides, repeatedly opening and closing. you walk around him so you could stand beside him, almost in front.
“dude — what’s going on?” you sound genuinely concerned, looking up at him with furrowed brows.
just as your lips part open to say something, only a gasp spills from your lips as miguel grabs you by the waist and pushes you back against the ledge of the counter. his chest close contact with your face, both of your bodies pressed together leaving no space, sandwiching you between him and the counter. your hot and heavy breaths fill the air between you. very slowly, you nervously look up at the man who towers over you. both of his hands rest on your waist with a firm grip, gently grouping the dip of it. pure lust in those beautiful brown irises of his.
‘oh fuck me’, you thought to yourself.
your body tenses as he leans down towards your ear. “do you have any idea what you do to me? these past two weeks has been torture for me. all i could think about was you and those cute yellow panties you wore with that exact same dress you’re wearing right now.” he ends it with a squeeze to your waist.
oh fuck — his husky voice sends shivers down to your core, making your face flushed. he was thinking about you this entire time? now that’s a mindfuck. your heart skips a beat at his seductive confession. your chest heaves, breathing heavily.
does it make things worse the fact you’re wearing those exact panties right now?
“all i wanna do is ravish you. run my hands over your gorgeous body. bury my face in between those delicious thighs and make you cry from pleasure. scream my name until you can’t remember anything.” his hands slowly run up and down your sides, making you shiver at the sensation.
you can’t help but whimper at his words. god is this really happening? your handsome neighbor, who’ve you been secretly crushing on, wants you. fuck — you can feel your clit pulsating in anticipation.
“mig-miguel…” you softly moan.
“por favor, hermosita. let me have you, worship you.” miguel couldn’t help but start kissing your neck, right on the sweat spot which makes you whimper.
your arms slowly trail up his body until you wrap them around his thick neck, gripping the ends of his hair, making him pull back to look at you.
“worship me, miguelito.” lust laced in your tone.
his eyes darken, pupils dilating at your words. fuck the nickname hits him hard, sending jolts of pleasure down to his dick. he feels himself growing tight in his pants, a bulge forming. without hesitation, miguel smashes his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. god both of you have been waiting for this moment. you guys are practically eating each other’s faces. his tongue sneaks in, licking your lips for access which you gladly accept. a shared moan echoes in the air between you as you explore each other’s mouths. you dig your fingers into his dark chocolate locks while his hands roam your body, groping your curves.
without warning, miguel lifts you up by the waist and plants you on the counter. a soft gasp spills from you when you felt the raging bulge in his pants against your clothed core. while indulging in your heated makeout session, you feel a large hand slowly trailing up your legs towards your inner thighs. your breath hitches when you feel his fingers brushing against your panties, lightly rubbing your clothed core. another hand gently groping one breast. muffled soft moans spill from yours which eggs miguel on. he can’t take it anymore. grabbing underneath your thighs, he lifts you up and carries you out of garage and into his house. he shuts the garage door with a remote on his way inside.
as much as he wanted to take you on the floor of his garage, miguel wanted your first time together in a more comfortable setting.
and holy fuck — you’ve never orgasmed so many times in your life. he pull one after another from you, leaving you breathless and fucked out. also, probably the biggest dick you’ve ever taken. bro filled you up to the motherfucking brim, you’re on the pill so it’s fine but still risky (condoms are better).
and the aftercare, oh my god miguel is the sweetest man. such a gentleman, being sweet and caring towards you. made sure you were okay, getting anything you needed. gentle touches to make sure he doesn’t overwhelm you, whispering praises.
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ever since that night, you started dating.
y’all were fucking almost everyday.
one time, you rode him on his bike. yeah you read that. his garage was filled with your moans, echoing in those four walls. you holding onto his shoulders for dear life while riding the shit outta him. that was a fantasy come true for miguel, fucking you on his bike. oh he was a happy, horny camper. of course the garage door was closed so no one could see you two horny fucks. although, miguel wouldn’t mind people seeing you getting fucked so good by him, to make other men jealous and boost his ego.
the next time was on the floor of his garage. as much as you disliked the cold hard feeling of the floor, you were too cock drunk to care. another one of miguel’s fantasies coming true.
then it was in each other’s bedrooms, mostly miguel’s because he loved having you in his bed. one night after coming from your highs, both of you a panting and sweating mess, you stare up at the ceiling. miguel turns to look down at you, his eyes analyzing your expression.
“what are you thinking?” he was still a bit breathless, caressing your cheek with one hand.
your eyes remain glued to the ceiling. “i think we should just move in together at this point. it’s kinda stupid we’re together yet live in separate houses.”
a smile graces his lips at your confession. “then move in conmigo.” his smile grew wilder when he watched you turn quickly to look at him.
“my house is nicer, plus i have a pool and you don’t.” you shoot him an unimpressed look.
a low chuckle escapes his plump lips which makes your heart flutter. “vale vale, you win. demonio.” miguel continues caressing your cheek, relishing your soft skin against his palm. he nuzzles in your neck, planting butterfly kisses on your warm skin while his hands gently grope your curves.
you let out a satisfied hum as you run your fingers delicately through his dark chocolate locks. the both of you relax in bed, embracing each other.
you love your next door neighbor biker boyfriend.
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ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @loser-alert @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @eatalyy @primroselovessupernatural @ghost-lantern @gaygerthelame
© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡
418 notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 8 months
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banner made by: @thursdaygxrls
because of the character count (145,091) and tumblrs format skills (it's shit) i had to adjust some sizing but i wanted all of this in one part.
CHAPTER ONE: BRUJA
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PETER PARKER’S FIRST WEEK.
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH 
Steve Jobs is lucky he’s dead. 
Because if he wasn’t, he’d have to deal with a pissed off Peter Parker woken up with a brooding hangover by the screeches of marimba. 
Peter wasn’t sure whose idea it was to throw a goodbye summer bash the night before classes started but he wishes them death. A ‘goodbye summer' party, what a dumb fucking idea. It’s college, every day is summer. If he’s picked up anything from being with the frat for two years it’s that they’ll make up any excuse to party. 
International Women’s Day? Guys can only get in if they’re half naked. 
Valentine’s Day? Singles dress as cupid, couples in red and pink. 
Friday the 13th? Horror movie character costumes only. 
St. Patrick's Day? That’s what those guys lived for. 
It didn’t matter what it was, if there was cause for celebration and drinking, it was going to be a party. Trying to ease a headache he rubbed his temples, it did nothing and proved useless when someone banging a spoon and pot in the kitchen made his ears ring. 
“Chapter meeting! Chapter meeting! Chapter-” Peter yelled as loud as he could, “shut the fuck up!” His head throbbed.
God, he fucking hated the start of the year, all the new people coming in sucking up to him and everyone else in the frat. The secondary members used it to their advantage, most of the officers didn’t impress easily, only using them when they felt like laughing at someone desperately trying to please. 
He had to redo the entire budget, and had to run through the same health and safety meeting that would get ignored, and then he’d have to get physical when someone pushed the rules a little too far. 
Peter had a hangover from hell and almost gagged getting up from bed, shuffling towards his bedroom door in just sweatpants. Yawning and scratching at his scalp as he walked down the stairs, he made the routine walk to the meeting room door that was open, a hidden room behind a bookcase, only chapter officers allowed. 
The room was dark, a gigantic oak table took up the center of the room, black leather chairs surrounded. The frats name and logo grinded into the middle. A pool table in one corner, a bar in the back and several leather couches. Peter took his seat and nodded at his friend next to him, the chapter president paced the front of the room with notes, when the last guy entered the door was shut behind him. 
“Welcome to the hunt boys, we waited all year for this.” 
Trent Simpson, chapter president. Deep alumni, the fraternity in his family for generations. 
“Before we start the meeting, please state who you are and your role on the board. Obviously, I’m Trent Simpson, your president.”
“Matt Paul, chapter vice president.” 
“Nick Aaron, secretary.” 
“Ethan Keznek, sergeant-at-arms.” 
“Peter Parker, treasurer and health and safety officer.” 
“Tarrent Bakner, recruitment chairman.” 
“James Hasco, housing officer.” 
“Booker Thomas, membership development.” 
Trent clapped his hands and motioned to the black folder everyone had. “Welcome to the first meeting of our rushing season for Sigma Nu. In each of your folders you’ll see our potential new members, if you don’t see anyone you like, time to tell me is now.” 
Peter eyed the page, only one thing set him off. Ted and Harry Linus, twins. He hated twins, last year he had gotten put in the middle of so many fights he swore he’d never let twins back in his house. 
Peter’s hand jotted up, clicking his pen quickly. “Nix the twins.” Trent crossed out the names with a sharpie, “nixed.” 
“Next are the outline of our weeks with the rush, and hazing schedules. Parker, I want you and Keznek to print up the chapter handbooks.” Ethan held his fist up towards Peter, he tapped his knuckles on his and looked over the schedule. 
“Finally, and this is a new one. I acquired a friend that can get some hard to get info really easily, so what you see in front of you is every fraternity's event.” 
Interesting, that’s a pretty hard thing to get your hands on, let alone fifteen. Fraternity events were highly competitive, and if they had every event in their back pocket they could be number one. 
Peter fought back a yawn, he wanted nothing more than another two hours of sleep. But his day began here, in a chapter officer meeting, on a Tuesday, with a hangover and only time to prepare for class. God, he really didn’t want to go to class today. He can barely remember what he signed up for. 
“... again, that’ll be next Tuesday, and like usual, freshman welcome on Friday. Any more questions before we close?” 
Booker’s hand goes up, “what about the sororities?” 
“Great question, we’ll only be circling with Zeta and Omega.” 
Peter nods approvingly, that’s nice to hear. Last year they partnered with four sororities and even the party guys were getting a little overwhelmed. It sucked they had to use the frat houses for parties but they chipped in and bought way better alcohol, not to mention all the fucking girls, it was truly pick of the litter. 
Matt Paul shoots out, “can we please promise each other right now we won’t have another Sara situation?” 
There was a reason Peter had two positions, Logan Leeman freaked out when Sara Niks dumped him. Actually went full blown nuts and had to be carted off in an ambulance, no one’s heard from him since. 
“God that was awful, I mean, he knew the chick for what, four months?” 
Peter nodded absentmindedly at Nick’s comment, disconnecting from the conversation and running numbers through his head. His attention was brought back when Trent smacked his gavel on the soundblock. 
“We’re back baby, and it’s open fucking season. One, two, three,” 
The brotherhood chanted, “Sig Nu!” 
—------------
Peter’s rinsing shampoo out of his hair when someone bangs on his bathroom door, he calls out over the rushing water, “yeah?” 
“Hey, some of the guys and I are gonna hit up the food hall before we gotta split, you down?” 
He can’t lie, the dining hall is damn good. He’s missed the breakfast burritos, and Linda. She’s been working in the kitchen at the university for over twenty years, he got to talking to her one day and now goes out of his way to give her a hello. He can’t wait to catch up and tell her all about his summer, and fuck, he’d kill for an orange juice. Oh god, he has to do so much grocery shopping. 
“Yeah, give me ten minutes!” As if on command his stomach growls, he’s reminded of his hangover and he has physics in two hours. At least the shower’s warm. It’s his saving grace. 
University has been good on Peter, he looks like he belongs; top dog on campus feels good. He fills out his frat tee better this year, spidey working double time this summer to make up for the slow six months he’s about to have. Heather gray and red detailing, his pants black, and a signature white snapback. He should’ve gotten a haircut, but he chose to drink like an idiot. The night was fun though, it was worth it in the moment. 
Taking a final glance, Peter tucks the chain around his neck into his shirt, and takes a deep breath before his first day of his junior year starts. 
He’s ready.
—----------------
“Did anyone see Trevor slam his head against the wall last night or was that just me?” 
“You mean Lopes?” Peter really wishes he was around to see that. 
Hasco is on level ten, Peter’s convinced he’s off a bump or two of coke, he’s just a tad too twitchy for his liking. “Bro, he just bounced that fucker off the wall. Stared at me and did it. No fucking reason. He’s fucking crazy.” 
Peter snorts, “why, was he off the powder?” He bites down on his bottom lip when his friends toss him around by his shoulders giving soft ‘oo’s’ at his jab. Hasco flips him the bird, “even if he was, that’s fucked up, right?” 
Keznek follows up, “you think he’d do it again if i asked?” 
Nick pipes up, “ten down on yes,” Tarrent raises a finger, “coked up or sober?” 
“Does it matter?” 
Tarrent nods, “fair enough.” 
Peter cuts through the bullshit, “can we please talk about Simpson and the fucking list this year? Thirty two people is such bullshit, at this point it’s just a dick measuring contest with Alpha Delta.” 
Hasco sniffs as he nods his head, “yeah, not to mention all the fucking shuffling. Too many people for no reason, especially because we’re cutting twelve almost immediately.” Nick scoffs, “you’re telling me, I have to keep track of every motherfucker going in and out.” 
Peter’s best friend lets out a refreshing sigh, “I got the best job, I just make sure Tarrent does his job.” Hasco barks back, “shut the fuck up, Keznek.” 
“If I may, I have the worst out of all of you combined. I have to keep track of every fucking receipt, everyone’s dues, every god damn bill. Then I get to sit around and try to teach consent to a bunch of brain dead eighteen year olds.” 
“And safety! Don’t forget all the fights you had to break up last year.” 
It’s just so fucking tiring sometimes, but he’s the reason he and the entire frat have a place to sleep. “Thanks for the reminder, Nick.” Nick claps his shoulder, “anytime, bud.” Tarrent starts humming, “I’m getting so much food, you have no idea.” 
“I’m doubling down on burritos.” 
Ethan sucks in a breath, “me too.” 
Tarrent opens the doors to the dining hall and voices explode, overlapping chatter from every corner. It pierced through his ears and stabbed at his headache, Hasco sniffs and nods his head impressively, “fuck yeah,” bumping Peter’s shoulder when he walked in. 
“Jesus fucking christ.”
 Ethan holds back a chuckle at Peter’s audible mumble, choosing to mock Hasco instead, nodding at Peter walking by, “fuck yeah, man.” 
Peter nods towards Paul, sitting at a table with his girlfriend and who he assumes are her friends, he doesn’t care enough to actually look. Paul barely gives him a wave between inhaling his burrito, he’s gotten three, meaning he has to do an impressive four, unless Tarrents goes for four, then he’s maxing out at five. 
Things you learn in a frat, it’s the little things that mean the most dominance wise. 
He hangs at the back of the line so he can catch up with his favorite lunch lady on campus, until the closer he gets he can’t see her. Moving his head back and forth but coming up short he assumes she’s in the kitchen. She usually worked the register in the morning and afternoon, but he supposes new year, a new schedule.
Peter slides through the line with six breakfast burritos and a fruit cup, because it’s all about balance. Giving that deathly smile to his second favorite lunch lady, “hey, Mrs. Zoe. How was your summer?” 
Sweat dots her forehead, “hot and long, how about yours, honey?” He can’t complain much, he actually took it slow. “Pretty good, hey, um, is Linda around?” Peter doesn’t know what it is but he knows it’s bad by the way Zoe’s face drops, she looked younger than she was, until she was full frowning, then she looked every bit of sixty. 
“You didn’t hear?” Peter’s scared to say no but still shakes his head. 
“Oh, shit. She dropped a pot on her foot just the right way and shattered the whole thing. She ran out of time off and was let go.” 
Peter feels everything in him shake with rage. 
Linda took care of him for the past two years of his life, and worked harder than he ever has in his entire life. She dedicated decades of her life to this place, an institution built on community, until one got hurt. Linda made sure that even if he was away from home, he was still fed with love. She talked to him, they formed a bond, he asked about her granddaughter all the time, her husband was sick, she was supporting the house, now what? 
“They fired her?” He’s full of pain and anger but his voice comes out timid. 
Mrs. Zoe nods her head solemnly, Peter looks at his tray, he’s not so hungry anymore knowing Linda didn’t make a thing on it. Suddenly six burritos seem daunting. 
“Is she okay?” That’s all that mattered. He had to fix this, he wasn’t sure how yet but it’s his personal mission to get her back where she belonged. 
“She’s still healing up but I guess the university gave her a nice severance package, so she’ll be okay for a while.” 
The line’s starting to back up, “do you think I could get her number? I’ll come back for lunch and get it, if you think that’s okay.” 
A beaming smile, she looks young again, her eyes crinkle and it shows her joy. “I think she’d love that. I’ll get it for you.” Even if he’s mad, he gives her a polite smile, “thanks, Mrs. Zoe.” 
Peter’s heart races as he walks away, the situation swirling in his mind, how fucked it all was. He doesn’t care if they gave her a severance package, she got hurt at work. They should’ve held her job, they should’ve given her a break for the first time in over twenty years. 
How could he fix this? Maybe he could get the frat to do a petition, if they sign it then most of the school would get on board. Or shit, what if they go on protest? Do they sit in strike until they give in to the demand? What if he gets- 
“So sorry!” 
Peter stopped himself from stumbling any further, caught off guard and in the midst of a breakdown he took it out on the assaulter. He doesn’t care if it was an accident, he’s not hard to miss, they just weren’t looking, or paying attention. 
And he can see why, big doe eyes blinking at him. Like they’ve never seen an adult man, as if his presence alone was enough to send them into fight or flight. There’s one reason and one reason only, and it’s written all over their face. 
“Fucking freshman,” he hates them like no other, last year was enough to paint them in a negative light forever. They were babies, new to drinking, new to being on their own, new to parting. And the entitlement was off a new chart level, they thought they were the big dogs because they finally reached adulthood. 
The kind of entitlement that sent them running into people three times their size. 
The girl's face changed, she went from frightened to pissed in under three seconds. It almost impressed him, her eyes narrowed as she looked him directly in the eye. For a second he felt challenged, like someone he had to nearly look down on had equal footing against him. All from a freshman no less. 
Her words hit directly, she packed a punch behind them and meant each word as they spewed. 
“I hope you fucking choke.” 
Peter was left speechless, watching her stomp off, while slowly approaching the table his friends occupied. Hasco and Keznek bickering back and forth, which was pointless, Hasco always has to have the last word. 
“Explain this one to me,” he immediately caught attention. 
“Some freshman knocked into me, almost made me drop everything, then told me she hoped I’d choke. I mean, what the fuck?” 
Peter has to look away when Tarrent spews his idea, egg dropping from his mouth. 
“She wants to fuck you bro.” Sometimes his stupidity hurts, “what? It was a twenty second interaction and she told me to die.” 
“Yeah, that’s how it always starts.” 
The table goes quiet, Ethan’s the first to speak. “Tarrent, I think you should sit in on Parker’s health and safety course for a refresher.” 
“Oh. Okay.” 
—------------------------
Peter thinks he’s a little too hungover and it’s a little too early for him to focus on mechanics and math, so he chooses to look over his syllabus and yawn. 
His year was littered with hard classes, approaching the end of his major and now everything counted. The pressure was on, he was prepared to make this his year. He was done with the little kid shit, it was time he got serious and put his future first.
 How boring of him, he was going to need Ethan to help bounce him back. 
Peter’s first and only class of the day was intro to quantum mechanics, having to sit through that much math and theory made his already pounding headache increase tenfold. Taking a harsh inhale he pulled out his phone for the brother’s group chat, hiding his phone in his lap while his new professor droned on.
‘Who’s fucking idea was this party? I’m dying rn.’ 
‘Blame Paul.’
‘that’d be pauly.’ 
‘Keznek emphasized ‘blame paul.’ 
‘blame me!’ 
‘Fuck you, paul.” 
Peter would be lying if it didn’t make him feel a little bit better. Still, blinking under the fluorescent lighting he wished he could wish his hangover away, he’s never felt this shitty in his life, he’s sure of it. He only had forty minutes left, all he had to do was make it through the lesson, buy his books and spend the rest of the day in bed hiding from every and all light and sound. 
It wouldn’t be a terrible year, his professor was the textbook definition of MILF. Blonde bob with streaks of gray, an hourglass figure and oval glasses. Her pantsuit hugged her curves and for a moment he thinks her husband is a lucky guy. 
Plus he was pocketed between the hottest chick on campus and some mega genius, so smart Peter was put to shame. It wouldn’t be a bad week either, after he got this girl's number and invited her over to a party. Peter politely sat through the lecture, going over the syllabus with his professor's powerpoint and writing down anything he deemed important. 
Then the hour was over and he deserved a treat. He worked hard, so now he can play hard.
Fighting through his looming hangover and using every ounce of charm, he turns his head and smiles at the girl. She had long, slick black hair and he wanted to wrap every bit of it around his fist. 
“Hey, I’m Parker.” 
She has a nice smile, and a nose ring, he wonders what else is pierced. 
“Hey, I’m Rose.” 
He’s not sure if it’s a nickname or her real name, it doesn’t matter to him, it suits her well. Peter can see a peek of a tattoo that blossomed from her chest. He wanted to unwrap her like a present and figure her out. 
“Nice to meet you, Rose. I just had to let you know I think I have the best seat partner in the whole room.” 
“I know, right? Teddy is hella smart.” Her grin tells him she knows what he meant by his comment. 
“You seem pretty smart too, maybe we should exchange numbers in case I need any help?” 
God, her smile is fucking raident. 
“Not sure my girlfriend would like that too much, Parker.” 
He exhales a breath, “oh you were waiting to say that.” 
Rose nods, “it’s always a fun bomb to drop. Nobody thinks I’m a lesbian until I say it, then I get the-” 
“I can see it.” 
Her hand raises, “point in case.” She’s still cool. And he has four months with her. 
“Let me try again. Hey, Rose, would you and your girlfriend like to come to our party on friday?” 
There’s that fucking smile. “We’d love to.” 
Peter nods his head, okay with the turn of events. “Alright, Rose, I’ll see you and…” 
“Lily,” she fills in for him. 
“Lily, how perfect. I’ll see both friday.”
Peter gathers his things and stands, his first try of the year was a swing and a miss, unless… 
“Hey, if you were straight would-” 
“My girlfriend will kill you, tread carefully, new friend.” 
Peter can’t wait to meet her, he already likes her. 
—-------------
Peter’s day just got longer or more miserable, because as he should’ve assumed, the bookstore line was wrapped around the building. If only he had given himself a head start, he could’ve done this days ago but there were other things in his personal life he had to wrap up first. 
Just so he could sit in line, under the sun, with a hangover, to buy hundreds of dollars worth of textbooks he’d never use again. 
Ray Bans rested on his nose, blocking the glare of the sun. He kept refreshing his twitter feed but was quickly bored, switching to instagram and endlessly scrolling. Liking a few pictures, his brother’s party posts, an old classmate’s ‘moving back in!’ post, a summer throwback bikini picture from a girl he’d hooked up with a few times the year prior.   
Jostling forward, Peter had to stabilize his stance. Caught off guard and his back ran into, he had to admit it just wasn’t his day. 
He scoffs as the assaulter mutters out apologies. 
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you and I’m sorry!” 
Turning sideways to look at the girl he gave a bitter laugh, “Jesus Christ, freshman. Want a tip? Look where you’re walking.” 
The girl in front of him looked pissed, “I said sorry, you don’t have to be so mean.” 
Peter pulled his head back and turned to face her full on. “You’re telling me about mean? You knocked into me twice and said you’d hope I fucking choke, if we’re tallying scores I’d think you’re the bully, sweetheart.” 
She huffs, “does the misogynistic shtik always work for you?” 
He holds his hand to his chest, “misogynistic, because I called you sweetheart? I’d say that’s irony, or sarcasm, because you’ve been anything but sweet.” 
“Well… maybe I’d be nicer if you were.” 
Peter’s having fun with this, she’s just shittalking him to do it, and he kinda respects that. His hands move as he speaks, emphasizing his point. “You hit me! Why do I have to be nice?” 
The girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms in defense.  “I bumped you, I hope you’re majoring in acting because you could win an oscar for your dramatics.” 
His tongue pokes at his cheek, a cocky grin spreads. “Babe, I’m the best at what I do. You think I’d be here and not at Juilliard?” 
Peter won, she scoffs and opens her mouth before shutting it and spinning on her heel, turning her back on him.
“Realized you couldn’t win?” 
He turns back around, hiding a grin, fumbling for his phone in his back pocket. He opens up the ‘Captain Nu’ group chat and sends out a message. 
‘The entitlement from these freshmen gets worse every year.’ 
‘true dat. this freshie charles just got coffee all over me, i can’t wait to ruin his year.’ 
‘rip charles. never had a chance.’ 
‘@trent ally just said her friend is gonna do the ski trip after all.’ 
‘@paul, Ally’s got a friend? 👀’
‘@parker, lol, yea.’ 
‘paul is the world's worst wingman, lmaoooo.’ 
‘Of course he is, he met the girl he’s gonna marry at 16.’ 
‘@parker maybe u would too if you bothered to know their name after.’ 
‘@parker if anyone has dibs on ally’s friend it’s me. we’ve already been in talks. 🤔’ 
‘@trent, yo, tf? We’re gatekeeping now?’ 
‘@paul, invite her to the party friday. We’ll see who she wants, @trent’ 
‘🫡’ 
‘Hold on, Parker’s betting on a chick? I’m getting a lawn chair & a 12 pack rn.’ 
‘Good thing your name isn’t in the mix, isn’t it? @keznek’ 
‘ally said she’s coming, my money’s on trent, sorry parker.’ 
‘Hmmm, I dunno, Paul. Parker’s got that underdog in him.’ 
‘At least E believes in me.’
Glancing up, and noticing a gap in the line he moves up. Putting his phone back in his pocket he glances over his shoulder and peers at the girl with her gaze locked in on her phone screen. He’s learned several things while at the frat, one of the most important, you can never have too many options. 
She’d probably show up anyways, but if she was invited by him to his frat for their freshman welcome party, she’d definitely show up and if Trent wins, he’d have his bases covered. Clearing his throat and turning one eighty, Peter walked backwards to keep up in line, she followed with small steps. Smirking, he stopped quickly, her shoe toe hitting his own. 
She looked up quickly, “this one’s on me, sweetheart.” 
Her mouth opened, but he talked before she could. Before he could regret inviting her. Worst comes to worse, she’d be a good hate fuck. 
“Has anyone shown you frat row yet?” 
“I’m not-” she gives a frustrated sigh, “yes, I know where frat row is.” 
“Cool, so I’m Parker. I’m in Sigma Nu,” he gestures to the emblem on his corner pocket. “And on the first Friday of the school year we throw a freshman welcome party, you should come.” 
Peter can tell she’s trying to figure out his motive, it’s kind of cute, the way she's analyzing him. He immediately throws that idea from his head, he doesn’t find girls cute, he finds them attractive. Cute implies you want them to hang around and she’s nothing but infuriating.
“Uh huh. Sure.” Keeping watch of the line he backs up further, he’s three away from being saved from the sun.
“That’s a personal invite, babe.” 
She gasps, it smells of sarcasm. “My goodness, in that case I must show! How else will I know my worth when I watch you make out with another girl across the house?” 
That stumbles him a bit, not used to his game being called outright. Even if that was something that might happen, being told it would happen made him feel a little shitty. 
“That’s not at all what I-” 
Her hand stops him, “you have backup plan written all over your face, I think the summer made you lose some of that frat boy edge.” 
He just met this chick, after she threw herself into him twice, and now she’s telling him who he is? God damn, the entitlement is reeking from every orifice. 
“You-” 
“Line.”
He had to accept the loss and enter the store, but the second he saw her at his party, he’d throw in a few choice words. Remind the freshman who was on top. 
He was Peter Parker and he was the treasure and health and safety officer, and this was his fucking year. Hangovers and all.
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WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH. 
Peter’s looking at a house across from him, it’s a faded yellow with maroon shutters. A plethora of flowers covered the base foundation, the grass was a little long, definitely a few weeks since the last cut. 
It looked like a home. 
He could picture a series of generations passing in and out the front door, it was a small house but the love he felt looking at it felt big. Peter felt just as much love for the woman inside the house, stepping over cracks in the concrete he knocked on the door and looked down at his feet while he ran lines through his head. 
A growing smile took over when the door cracked open, frizzy gray hair poked through. When Linda caught sight of him the door swung open, her arms went right around him, squeezing him with all her might. 
“Peter! Oh my goodness, I thought I wouldn’t see you again! I was going to send you a letter but you beat me to it!” Joy filled his heart, Peter wrapped his arms around her shoulders and laughed. “Mrs. Zoe helped me, I thought she’d call you. Guess not.” 
Linda gave him a parting squash before cupping his cheeks, “she knew I’d love the surprise.” She looks behind her, “wanna come in for some tea?” He took her up on the offer, he needed to let her know that he and the school needed her and he was willing to do whatever he could to get her back where she belonged. 
A blue oriental rug ran from the front door into the kitchen. Peter dropped his backpack by an entrance table and kicked his shoes off. While he looked around at the family pictures stretched across the walls he felt something rub against his legs, a scratchy meow followed. 
Peter looked down at an orange crusty cat, his heart melted. He wasted no time in picking them up and curling them to his chest, “is this Nelly?” Linda turned and smiled at her cat butting her head against Peter’s hand, “yes, she’s an attention grabber. Now you’ve held her, she'll expect it every visit.” 
As he followed Linda he looked deeper into the home, his stomach tugged when he looked into a bedroom off from the living room, an old man lying still in a hospital bed, three full IV bags hanging off a medical pole. 
The sun was coming through the kitchen window creating a sunspot, a sleeping chihuahua was soaking it up. 
“Teeny?” He already knew the answer.
 Linda bent down to pet the old dog, she mumbles while Teeny licks at her nose. “Yes, tú eres mi cariño, isn’t that right?” The cat in Peter’s hold pushed at his chest, a guttural meow while she looked at her food bowl. 
Setting her down, he looked back up to a young female standing by a cabinet, she seemed vaguely familiar. She looked a little flustered, and brushed down her shirt to prove it could fit better. 
“Hi.” Peter took a shot in the dark, “Hey, Kat. Nice braids.” 
Her face exploded in a smile, a faint blush crossed her cheeks. “You remember me?” 
“Yeah, I think we met my first year, you went…” 
“...to work with my grandma after I got in trouble that summer!” She finished for him. 
Linda moved around the small area, setting a bright red kettle on the stove. 
“You were what, fifteen?” Kat’s face went neutral, “I’m eighteen now, Peter.” Kat crossed her arms, subtly pushing her cleavage up. She’s pretty, but she’s too young for him, she can try to make it happen all she wants but he respects Linda too much. 
“Kathrine, go let Teeny out.” It seems like Linda doesn’t want it to happen either. 
“But-” Kat flinches when Linda points a wooden spoon at her, “you dare question me in my own home? Desagradecida!” Her granddaughter hangs her head and slowly passes Peter, going out of her way to brush against his shoulder, he lets her have it. 
The second the porch door slides shut Linda points the spoon at him, “not gonna happen, frat boy. Comprende?” Peter holds his hands up, “comprendido, comprendido!” A smile forms, crinkles by her eyes shows Peter she’s no real threat. 
“Green or herbal?” 
Peter glances at a pouty Kat in the backyard, it brings him back to his early teens. It makes him slightly chuckle, she’d be fine, the first rejection always hurts the most. 
“Green, please.” 
Peter’s been on a roll, spewing everything he thinks she needs to hear about his summer and upcoming school year. She’s nodding along and asking questions when an alarm starts beeping, she jumps from her seat and holds out an arm. “Be right back.” When she tucks herself into the bedroom her husband’s in, Peter feels a little sick. 
It’s the elephant in the room when she returns, she sits back in the teal chair across from him and tosses hair behind her shoulder. Linda’s hands wrap around her mug, steam billows when she blows on the rim. She gives him a knowing smirk, “you want to ask about Ronaldo, don’t you?” 
Peter feels shy, he does want to make sure she’s okay, but also knows it’s not something to really bring up. “Is he okay?” It’s a dumb question, he has to hold back on wincing when she shakes her head. “No. He’s comfortable for now, and he’s home. That’s all he ever wanted while he was in the hospital.” 
He swallows thickly, “is he in hospice?” Linda grabs his hand, “he is. It’s been hard, but we’ve made every decision together. He gave me and our family his best years, I think it’s time I take the brunt.” 
She wears a sad smile, but Peter can still see how strong she is underneath. Patting his hand she follows up like she knows where he’s going. 
“And I am very thankful I get to spend our last moments together by his side. I know it seems like bad luck, but that damn pot put me where I needed to be.” Peter’s smile is faulty, “so, you can’t be swayed into coming back?” 
“No, cariño. I can’t.” 
“But it feels so unfair! They should’ve given you something.” 
Linda clicks her tongue at him, “trust me, mi amor, I know what unfair is. And what happened was a grace of God. I get to watch my husband peacefully pass, and I get to spend the rest of my life watching my family grow. I can finally go see my great grandchildren in Mexico, my life is anything but unfair. ” 
If there’s anyone he wants the best for it’s Linda, and if she sees it as a blessing he could too. He takes a moment, “so, the severance package was good?” 
Linda scoffs, “if you call twenty five years pay at once good, then it’s good.” 
It was everything Peter needed to hear.
Peter finishes off his tea, “I’m still gonna miss you, Linda. No one can make a breakfast burrito like you. Or cut fruit! You should’ve seen the slices of cantaloupe, not one uniform cut!” 
A warm hand is cupped around his cheek, “you come by anytime for a meal. I know you’re local, but if you ever need a mom, a place to lay low, or an open door with no questions asked, you know where I am.” 
It brings tears to his eyes, he blinks fast, chuckling when a tear drops. Peter wipes at it with his sleeve, “I’m really, really, gonna miss you.” 
“You won’t miss me too much, you’ll be coming by every Wednesday for breakfast. Comprende?” 
Peter blows a sharp breath before laughing, “comprendido.” 
—--------------------
Spider-Man pats his tummy looking over the skyline. 
Linda made him a full cast iron of Huevos Rancheros, and when his eyes widened at the size she laughed and said, “What? You suddenly lost your appetite over the summer?” He had not, and ate the entire thing. 
Peter wishes he took up her offer to sleep on the couch while she watches reruns of ‘La Patrona.’ He politely declined, but tortillas and spicy eggs mixing in his stomach made him wish he was taking a nap.
He feels lead in his gut as he swings across the street, too sluggish to fight; he holds out a hand to stop a runaway bike thief. He went flying over the handlebars at an extreme speed, Spider-Man just watched and shrugged. 
An eight year old appeared, throwing his arms around Spider-Man and squeezing. Peter lets out a squeak, “alright, Spidey had a little too many eggs for breakfast-” the kid backs away and stares in amazement. 
“No way! I had eggs for breakfast too!” 
“Look at us, coupla egg eating guys.” 
The kid hugs him again, a panicked mother catches up. “Jacob! You can’t run away from me like-” Jacob bounces as he screams, “Mom! Mom! Spider-Man saved my bike! And, and, and guess what! He had eggs for breakfast too!” 
Sometimes the pure excitement of who he was made the shitty parts of his job manageable. 
“That’s awesome, honey! But you really can’t run away from mom like that.” 
Spider-Man crouches to Jacob’s height, and nods at his mom. “You know what I did when I was eight?” Jacob’s eyes grow wide, “no, what?!” 
“I listened to my mom. And I ate all my vegetables.” 
“Woah.” The child turns to his mom, she gives a knowing look to Spider-Man. “Mom! We have to go get broccoli!” She smiles at her son, “sure thing, buddy.” Holding his bike steady he takes mount, she mouths a thank you and Spider-Man waves her off. 
Jacob gives a parting salute, “bye, Spider-Man!” 
Peter feels like he’s going to puke when he takes flight, he thinks for a second, then starts heading east.
May doesn’t mind that he stopped by for a mid-morning nap. 
—---------------------------
After running through the budget four times, Peter’s positive he’s got the first two weeks handled.
Then, he’d have to rework the entire thing weekly until the final placements were made. And he still has that powerpoint to re-touch, after last year he had quite a few things to add to his health and safety presentation. 
Oh, and the chapter handbooks. That only took up an entire afternoon, even with two people working it. And grocery shopping tonight, he might be able to strong arm Ethan into going with him. 
Not to mention how he doubled up on physics this year, just because he’s gotten used to self-atonement.  
Everything was fine, it wasn’t like he was stressed already. 
Peter waited until the last minute, but he burned more time than necessary and finally pushed himself from his desk chair to go to the chapter’s private quarters, a meeting with Trent mandatory. 
It’s nothing too personal on Trent, but he just doesn’t like him. There wasn’t a real reason, just a general dislike. He was a bit too frat boy for him, although it makes sense, he’s the president, he’s had to make it his entire personality. But still, his subtle misogyny and hint of alpha male made Peter keep his distance. 
Checking for the fifth time, Peter opens the hidden door and slides in. 
“Parker!” 
“What’s up, Simpson?” 
Trent looks up grinning, his eyes clocking the folder in Peter’s hand. “Got my reports?” Peter hands over the folder, Trent opens it immediately and looks it over, nodding impressively at the number. 
“Thirty two recruits and you did this magic? I think I’ll keep you around, Parker. Speaking of, where are we on the shopping?” 
Peter wants to grit his teeth, when Trent said he was treasurer and everything money related would be run through him, he wasn’t exaggerating. “I have late classes tomorrow, so I’ll go tonight. I’m gonna get together with Tarrent and see what’s on the menu, plan around that.” 
Trent nods approvingly, “he’s on strict recruitment duty the next two days, so keep it short. We’ve doubled PNM's.” 
Peter keeps a straight face, “yeah, I know.” 
Trent picks up a tilt, “got a problem with it, Parker?” 
There’s that alpha, the subtle shift of dominance that runs rapidly in a house full of testosterone. 
“Not one, Simpson. It’s like you said, it’s open fucking season.” That makes him proud, “you’re damn right, baby. Now go fill up my fridge.” 
Peter nods, “I’ll check with Bakner and get Keznek to come with me. Anything else?” 
“Yes! I forgot, I’m thinking this year you do the health and safety for everyone. Not just the new recruits. I think some of these newer guys need to be reminded of what this campus and frat really stands for.” 
And Peter thinks that’s a really good idea. Maybe Trent wouldn’t be that awful this year. 
“Oh, Parker, one more thing?” One more thing, that’s fine, he doesn’t have enough on his plate. 
“Yeah?” 
“Harvey’s coming back on Friday, make sure he’s got a spot set up in here.” 
“I’ll make Hasco do it, he’s the housing officer.” Trent must not like his tone, “I know who Hasco is, Parker. Just do what I fucking say.” 
Okay, he might be awful this year. 
“Sure, yeah, you got it. Anything else,” your highness? He added in his head. 
“Tell Paul I need to meet with him, this Ally shit is annoying. He needs to know what he’s committed to.” 
His girlfriend, he’s committed to his girlfriend. And since she’s a human being, she takes priority over a frat house but Trent can’t wrap his thick skull around the idea of it. 
“Got it.” 
God bless the woman that ever puts up with that.
—--------------------
Three sheets of notebook paper, that’s how long the shopping list was. 
Tarrent was prepared and that was appreciated. Instead of having to sit around while he scrambled to prepare something, when Peter knocked on his door and asked about the groceries all he was granted was a grunt and an arm shoving out crumpled printer paper. 
Peter and Ethan walked down the cereal aisle side by side, each had a half full cart. 
“So, I was thinking about the Salander sisters. You think they’d hate me if I went after both and took the one that chooses me?”
Peter grabs six cereal boxes off the shelf, tossing the stack in his cart, he crosses off another item on the list, He’s only got two and a quarter pages left, next time, he’s bringing the pledges. 
“Aren’t they twins?” 
Ethan corrects him, “Irish twins, there’s a difference.” His attention drifted to where his best friend’s pointing, “fruit roll ups, twelve of ‘em. Which one are you trying first?” Ethan shakes his head piling cardboard and throwing it in his cart. “As if it’s a question, obviously it’s Sara.”
“I thought you were more into Sam,” cause he swore he was, “oatmeal, four of each flavor.” 
Ethan speaks over his shoulder, quaker oats sailing, Peter catching each one. “Until she picked you to kiss during that stupid card game.” 
Peter remembers, he apologized to Ethan after too. Ethan wouldn’t hear it, it wasn’t Peter’s fault he was picked, and Ethan made sure he knew it. Sam kissed him, Sam chose him, and he wasn’t owed any real loyalty, they’d only chatted a few times at a few different parties. 
Still, that night had left a bad taste in Ethan’s mouth and she shot to the bottom of his list real fast. Peter had never spoken to her before that night, but Ethan had. And she still chose Peter. 
‘I wanted to tell her no but then I'm the asshole.’ 
‘Dude, forget about it. It’s not like you stepped on any toes, if anything, you got a hookup tonight.’ 
It was tempting, but it was an unspoken agreement that any girl the other one liked, was off limits. So, he never even tried. 
“If it helps, she was a bad kisser. It was wet.”
Ethan shudders, “not sloppy?” 
Peter doubles down, “wet.”
“Do you think Sara’s the same way? Cause I can’t do sloppy kisses.” Raising a finger, Peter corrects him, making his way to the dairy section. “Wet, Keznek, it was wet.” 
“If you think a kiss was wet, what are the chances she also-” 
Peter cuts him off, “no, we’re not going there.” 
“Boo, no fun, how much milk do we need?” 
“A gallon of literally everything.” 
“We’re going to be here forever, I have moves to make, Parker.” 
A snort, “oh yeah? What’s on the radar for tonight?” 
“I don’t know yet, I’m stuck in a grocery store. 
Ethan is such a whiner, he’d do anything you asked but was a martyr through and through. 
Peter’s got it the worst and he’s not complaining, he could, but it wouldn't do anything. He’s got triple the load Ethan has, all he had to do was sit back and make sure the chapter officers were doing their job. 
At least he helps pass the time, and cuts the job in half. 
“So, I hit on a lesbian today.” 
Ethan almost stops breathing, “no way, where at? You think I could get a copy of the security footage?” 
—-----------------
At his current point in time, Peter had no idea what time it was, and he was only sure of three things. 
He had late classes tomorrow and could sleep in, Hasco put on the weirdest movie known to man, he still can’t tell if it’s in english, and he was absolutely baked. It was a new level of toasted, his arms were like noodles on his sides, limp and lifeless. Peter swears he can hear his eyelids blink, or it was Tarrent eating sunflower seeds. 
Peter’s slump against the back of the couch between Ethan and Tarrent, on Tarrent’s right was Hasco. The first, and only, sign of life from Ethan was him slowly slouching more and more until he was leaning on Peter’s shoulder, he assumes it’s to ground him because he’s allowing it for the same reason. 
Hasco’s giggling madly, slapping on his knee while the other three are locked on the screen. 
“We are so fucking high, you know how I know?” 
Peter looks to Tarrent to answer for the crowd, he supplies a ‘hmph,’ between spitting kernels. 
“I just remembered this movie is in portuguese.” 
“Oh.” It’s all Peter could get out, somehow, he understands it more than before. Tarrent is impressively loud, “even if it was in ASL shit would suck. This is like The Fast and The Furious meets Twilight.” 
“Bro, I know! Isn’t it fucking sick?” 
Peter blinks, he can look but can’t see, zoned out in a world of blank space. Ethan wheezes on Peter’s left, even out of his mind he can’t miss a shot at Hasco, “fucking sick.” 
In two days it would be the real start of the year, once the first party of the year commenced, they would never stop. It always felt like there were a million people in the house when the year started, it goes from pledges to recruits and back to members. Then you have friends and girlfriends and sororities, every night there would be at least twenty people downstairs drinking. 
It was a rare moment for the frat house to be so quiet and everyone was enjoying it, the calm before the storm. Peter thinks he’s enjoying it, but he’s also surfing the ozone layer. 
“You guys wanna get pizza?” 
Tarrent is a fucking tank, it’s seriously impressive. 
“Do you know how much money we spent at the grocery store today? Fuck no, make a sandwich.” Ethan smacks his arm, “make it two, no, three, I want one too.” Peter’s so glad Tarrent’s playing nice tonight, he actually stands and nods at the couch crew, “my boys want a BLT?” 
Not that he needs to say it, but it was the best fucking BLT of his life. 
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THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH
It was always a good day when you wake up before your alarm and realize you have a few more hours to sleep. Mornings like that make Peter feel more energized than eating a bag of chocolate covered espresso beans, a habit he has far too often. 
At ten thirty he couldn’t sleep anymore, throwing his sheets off him and standing with a yawn, scratching his thigh while his eyes watered. He would take a shower, hit up the dining hall with whoever lingered in the house still, then think about thermodynamics. 
His schedule, made while he was in the thick of a concussion from his spidey summer, made him sick. The classes alone made him want to eat a brick, but the days and times he chose fucked him up. His entire week was up and down. Monday he had two classes, Tuesday he had one, Wednesday he had none, Thursday he had one class and for god knows what reason, blocked his lab and lecture back to back on Friday. 
At least it was every other week, two Fridays out of the month he had nothing to do, which was pretty nice. With a big stretch and another yawn, Peter walked to his bathroom and started the shower, his boxers flying to the sink. 
The hot water felt good, his mind raced about the party the next night, how he’d be up most of the night moving things around, and how he had a lab-lecture combo. 
All he knew was that he had some fine opportunities coming up and he’d be dumb to have his bed empty tomorrow night. 
—-------------------
Belgian waffles were the only thing on Peter’s mind, the rest of his day could melt into whatever bullshit that needed to happen so he could carry on to another day. But first, he needed waffles. 
It was a whole bar, a set up of freshly made waffles and toppings galore. Strawberries, blueberries, bananas, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, maple syrup, sprinkles, butter, chopped pecans, and that was just what was on his. 
Peter was double plating, two hands, two plates. Each one had two waffles dressed to the nines, Tarrent following behind with his own. 
“Wanna sit with Paul?” 
Yuck, he was at his girlfriend's table. Ally was nice and pretty cool, but everything he’s learned about her has been against his will. Sometimes she pulls the girlfriend card a little too much, and it really only annoys him when Paul has to drop everything for her. But, for the past two years he’s known her, he can say that Ally was a perfect fit for Paul. 
“Fuck no, that freshman is over there.” She was, when he looked back to confirm, their eyes locked. Peter wasn’t backing down, not after that last interaction. Her eyes focused in on him, he doesn’t know why but his knees felt weak, suddenly he thinks she’s a witch. It wouldn’t be far-fetched, she’s evil, hates men, and makes him feel weird things. Plus, he’s Spider-Man, so they could exist, right? 
It was a staring contest, until Ally caught on to her friend looking at something, when she turned her head to look back the girl stopped her. Reaching out and breaking eye contact, she played like she was in a daze, laughing at something Paul said. 
It was weird, she was weird. Peter couldn’t choose between staying away and getting closer. 
“-Are you even listening to me? God, bro, it’s chill if you like the freshman. You can talk to her, no one will care.” Peter was snapped back to life, “she’s weird and keeps showing up.” Plastic plates click against the table top, the chairs screeching to life. Tarrent flops down, scraping his teeth across his fork when he takes a bite. He’s got a terrible habit of talking while eating, “does she keep showing up or are you just noticing her?”
“I just met the girl, Bakner. I don’t even know her name, how could I notice her?” 
“Maybe cause you want to know her name, Parker.” 
Tarrent doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Sure, she may have caught his attention a little and sure, he might have invited her to the party with the intention of possibly getting into her pants. But that has nothing to do with wanting to know her name or anything. He doesn’t care about girls like that.  
Peter still misses his favorite lunch lady but the waffles were really good this morning. 
He pulls a Tarrent and talks while cheeking his bite, “she bumped into me, several times. And was mean about it, why would I want to know her?” 
“Maybe she likes you, ever think about that, dingus?” 
Well, not really. She doesn’t even know him, how could she like him? The school year just started, unless he’s got a stalker walking around… or a witch.
“Someone taught you the word maybe once and you haven’t stopped using it since.” 
A grin full of bacon, “maybe.” 
Peter can’t stop himself from asking, “why do you think she likes me?” Tarrent’s fork clatters to his plate, “knew it.” 
“Knew what?” 
“I knew you liked her.” 
“I don’t know her! She’s the one that- we’re talking in circles, Bakner!” 
Tarrent pats Peter’s shoulder, which he shakes off and mumbles insults about Tarrent’s IQ level. “You know what, Parker? I think this is the year you get a girlfriend.” 
Peter stares his friend in the eye while he chews and swallows, “eat shit, Bakner.” 
—---------------------
“Welcome to thermodynamics. This is a fast paced, no frills, no bullshit class. If you cannot handle that, you will be left behind. This is a hands-on class, and I have high standards for everyone in here. If you do not follow my rules, you’ll be excluded and shunned from the rest of us. I’m Dr. Octavius, I’ll be your professor for the next fifteen weeks and it is my honor to teach you the fun in thermodynamics.”
This guy was absolutely not fucking around, he was all business and execution. Or as Peter likes to call these people, too smart for their own good. He earns his respect immediately, he’s the type of teacher that would get under his skin and push him to his extreme limits. Those are his favorite kinds. 
“I want each of you to look at the person on your left and right,” the class pauses, but he encourages them to do so. Peter looks at the guys next to him, one looks like a deer in headlights, the other looks more like Peter, excited to be challenged. 
For a second he imagines what his reaction would be if he saw the freshman sitting next to him. It wouldn’t be possible, but he imagines how shocked he would be. And the annoyance, god, he’d be so annoyed. But a small, tiny, itty bitty, microscopic part of him would be glad to be entertained. 
She’s not even around and he’s annoyed thinking about her. 
Why was he thinking about her? Why is she in his mind? Why is he imagining his reaction to her? 
She’s a witch. No other explanation. 
Peter shakes her from his mind and refocuses. 
Dr. Octavius nods at the group, “yes, good, good commit them to memory,” A few people start chatting, and he seems all for it, until his hand raises and everyone silences. “Now, immediately forget them.” 
Even if it wasn’t audible, he could hear everyone choke.
“Because, thirty percent of you will not be here by the sixteenth. If you want to drop my class, do it by then, if not, you’ll be charged for the semester and I won’t hear your sob story.” 
Ice cold. This is the best professor he’s ever had, he has a few more to meet but no way they would compare. This guy could tell Peter to go lay in a bath of acid because he’s not worth the surface matter he’s wasting to exist and he’d lay down for him. 
“I hope everyone here knows what thermodynamics are, if not, you’ve been failed by everyone around you.” He studies the room, reading each face for a moment before smiling. Pressing a button in his hand, the projector turns on, the syllabus on the screen. 
“Any questions?” 
No one raises their hand.
—-----------------
If Peter was a rich man, and he really wished he was, he'd buy himself a nap today. Not that naps are something you can buy, but if he could pay someone to do his work for him then he could take a nap. Normally, that just means employing a pledge to the task, but he won’t have one for a few days. 
The frat pays him, which is pretty nice because it pays him more than he could make in any part time job. It’s hard to become a chapter officer, but when you make it, it’s so worth it. He’s a top dog on campus and in the house, it’s nice having power outside the suit.  
But, he couldn’t buy a nap and he had thirty two chapter handbooks to make, hopefully getting to skip out on the set up for the party the next night. He’d have to go out for booze tomorrow, but he was praying he wouldn’t have to shove furniture around. 
When Peter walked in the house door he could hear something happening in the kitchen and it wasn’t sounding good. Suddenly, Peter felt wide awake. Hasco was yelling at Booker, who was holding back his anger but the wall was faltering. 
Ethan was absolutely useless, holding a bowl of cornflakes to his chest while he watched the brewing flight. He nodded at Peter, then to Hasco spitting insults at a million miles an hour. “Fuckin sick,” the mocking never got old. 
Before he intervened he needed to know if he should, something he’s learned as a man and as someone in a frat, sometimes you just need to fight it out. 
Peter shook his backpack off and watched them bicker back and forth. It was more like a coked up Hasco on a tangent and a way too calm exterior but built with inner rage Booker listening and tightening his fist with each insult. Booker played hockey, he was an athlete on and off the field, meaning, he took all he could before exploding. 
“What’s happening?” Ethan’s in no rush to respond, drinking milk from the bowl. 
“Something that needs to happen.”  
Hasco’s about to get the absolute shit beat out of him, “he’s been screaming for five minutes, I think Booker’s gonna knock him out.” 
That’s fine with him but his blender’s right there. 
“Booker, don’t get his blood on my blender please.” It stops Hasco, but seals his fate. 
“Who-” raging bloodshot eyes on him, “who the fuck’s gonna get blood on the blender? Me? You think this fuckin guy can put his hands on me? You think he can fight me? You think any of you motherfuckers can take me down?” 
Hasco slaps the side of his face, “fuckin do it, pussy. I know you won’t, you’re a bitch just like your mom-” 
Peter and Ethan pull their head back in a hiss, the collison sounded like a crack. It was enough to send Hasco’s head spinning before he dropped, he was real silent real fast. 
Booker stood over him and pulled him up by his shirt, a raised hand in the air. “Don’t fucking talk about my mom, you don’t know shit about her and what she’s done for me.” 
Ethan points his spoon towards him, defending his point. “Facts, the mom card was too far, Hasco.” 
“I should beat your ass, but Parker said no blood on his blender.” 
“Thank you!” 
“Thank your white friend and apologize on my moms behalf,” when Hasco stays silent Booker lifts his hand a little, Peter moves around to see him wince in fear. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, I was just heated man, you know how it is, it’s all crazy this time of year, cause all these new guys come in and my mind is all scrambled-” 
Ethan’s spoon points again, “that’s the coke.” 
“Hey! Fuck you man! If you wanna fucking go then we can go, motherfucker.” 
“You’re being held down by another man talking about beating my ass.” 
“Fuck all you! The only real one here is Parker, he’s a real friend, he has my back, he’s the only one here protecting me.” 
“I was protecting my blender,” Ethan shoves his elbow into his and mumbles, “health and safety officer,” he corrects himself, “and you, Hasco. It’s my job to protect everyone in the house. Do we need to settle this with a gulag or can it end here?” 
Booker’s over it, and Hasco needs a bump. 
“Let me up and we can hug it out,” and they do. Awkwardly slapping at each other’s back, Hasco giving him a “we all good brotha,” causing Peter and Ethan to wince again. 
“Don’t ever fucking say that to me.” 
“Parker! He’s still threat-” 
“Anything Booker deems racist is gonna get your ass beat, that’s a rule we signed in.” Ethan nods, “can confirm, I was there as witness.” 
“Simpson agreed? Of course he did, Polish motherfucker.” 
Ethan lost it, his shoulders shaking with his laugh. Hasco had something to say about everyone, last year after they butted heads, Hasco called him ‘plant fucker’ for six weeks and it never got old. Ethan laughing made Peter smirk, but he had to kill it before Hasco could catch him. 
“You know I love you, man! No more disrespect on your mom, you slapped the shit outta me. I feel like a bitch, I would’ve rather you punched me.” 
“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” 
Hasco made a motion of his mind exploding, “wild man, you’re a wild man.” He jumps at the idea of something and looks around the kitchen rubbing his nose, “hey, uh, we all good here guys? I got some shit to do in my room.” 
Eyes are on Peter, he’s the one that makes the call. He assumes everything’s fine, Booker looks bored and Hasco’s running his tongue over his gums, eyes twitching to the staircase. 
“Cleared.” 
Hasco nods, “fuckin sick,” and slithers between Peter and Ethan, slowly walking to the staircase before running up them. Peter’s stating the obvious, but it needs to be said. 
“Oh, he needs a fucking rehab.” 
Booker shrugs, “I dunno, dude. I slapped him sober.” 
Ethan cleans his bowl in the sink, “slapped him into next week, that shit ricocheted off the cabinets.” Booker eyed Peter as he said, “I mean, he deserved it?” Peter raised his hands up, “I said it was cleared, you don’t have to explain or excuse shit.” 
He snapped his fingers and pointed at him, “Parker, you’re my fuckin guy. I gotta get to practice, but you’re my fuckin guy.” Peter waved him off, “you protected my blender, bro. Tarrent loves that thing.” 
Booker jogged away pointing at him, “my guy! Still my guy!” 
Ethan raised his eyebrows at Peter when they were left alone, “you’re gonna love me.” 
“What’d you do?” 
Ethan shrugs, “made use of my day off and printed those handbooks.” Peter feels like he could cry, his best friend really was one, he took one for the team and dedicated himself to hours in the library to do the brunt of the work. 
“God,” A finger stops him, “not done, I also got the folders and brackets from the supply store. All we need to do is staple, stamp and book em’.” 
“You’re the best person to ever exist and I don’t say it enough.” 
“Wanna sit on my balcony and smoke a backwood while we do it?” He can’t imagine a better scenario. 
Then wonders if the freshman smoked, and finds himself aggravated at the thought. Why was he still thinking about her? 
She’s a witch, she has to be. He pushes her away, and focuses on his friend. 
“I’ll cry right now, Keznek.” 
—-------------------
It was nice outside, Peter was comfortable in a hoodie and sweatpants, and so was Ethan. They slowly talked while they worked back and forth. Peter would staple the pages, Ethan would bracket them into the booklets, then Peter would stamp them. 
"You remember those info sheets Trent's 'new friend' got him?"
"Yeah, do you know who it is?"
Ethan hisses when he pinches his finger, “nah, I did find out it's a chick though." Even though they’re alone Ethan leans in and talks low, “and apparently it’s top, top secret. Like, no one can find out, ever. She has something on him.” Those pages are held too tightly to their chests, every fraternity in competition with each other no one dares share or spill. 
“How’d you find out?” 
“Simpson left his computer open, he had it on his notes app.” Peter blows a harsh breath, “how do you think she got it?”
“No idea, but that shit comes at a price. She wants something, and it’s gonna be something Trent can control.” 
There’s a lot he can control, everyone can think they’re the most manly in the house, but Trent owned the title. Peter doesn’t know why, but it makes him itch to find out. Normally, he wouldn’t care, but he has a weird tug that demands to be discovered. 
It was that same tug he felt when that witch looked at him today, and why is he thinking about her? Why is he still thinking about her, he doesn’t even know her name, and she’s mean. Was Tarrent right, was he just noticing her instead of her showing up? Has he been looking out for her? And why in the hell is he still thinking about her? 
He’s right, he has to be. She’s a fucking witch. 
Peter snaps out of it and stamps three books. “What if she’s just bullshitting? Is there any way to prove it’s real?” 
“She’s not and she has. She hacked their computers.” 
It’s blackmail, she needs something over the frat. It’s his job to protect the frat, from the personnel to the building. His guess is money, but the why is lost on him. If it’s frat money he’d find out, Trent would have to run it through him, and if not, he’d find it the next time he went through the books. 
“That’s so weird, and speaking of weird, you remember that chick that bumped into me?” 
Why was he talking about her? Why was he still thinking about her? It just came out, he didn’t even have anything to say. She’s a fucking witch.
“Yeah?” 
“I don’t know, nevermind.” 
Ethan shrugs, “alright. Wanna guess what Tarrent’s doing for hazing?” Peter reloads the stapler, it’s automatic and he feels like a king. “You know it’s my job to prevent hazing, right?” 
“No, it’s your job to prevent poor or dangerous hazing, and guess who makes that call?” 
“Are you saying the definition of poor and dangerous hazing is at my discretion?” 
Ethan teeter totters, “technically mine too, I have to make sure you’re doing your job.” Peter fills in the blank, “by letting hazing happen?” 
“Alright, look. It’s a right of passage, you did it, I did it, everyone in that house and the other fifteen did it. Generations of fraternities have done it dating back to three hundred and eighty seven B.C. Everyone does it, that’s all I'm saying.” 
Ethan looks up at him from the gold brackets he’s thumbing flat on the book, “I know you have…” he tries to find the right words, “higher morals than most of us, and I know you’ll know when to shut it down.” 
“I never said I wanted to stop it, I just meant we’re not gonna be the frat that kills a kid.” 
“Jesus, of course we aren’t, I just didn’t want you killing the vibe.” 
Peter scoffs, “oh, well that’s just insulting.” He can see the end of the tunnel, only eighteen books left. “So, tell me what he’s doing. Please say it’s something better than the drunk soccer match.” 
Ethan cackles, “fuck you, that’s gold. It’s happening for sure.” 
Peter can think of one better, “imagine a drunk obstacle course, like, one of those bounce house ones? But we can make it all manly, so they think it’s something easy but on the other side it’s like a fucking bootcamp.” 
“Railing sixteen beers and rope climbing a six foot wall,” the idea made him laugh just as hard as the soccer match. “That’s so sick, you’re sick for that.” 
Peter stamps three more and finishes for him, “so obviously we’re gonna do it, right?” Ethan nods, “absolutely we are.” 
It falls silent, both of them working together but enjoying the quiet. Peter likes that most about Ethan, since day one he’s felt comfortable around him. He can be himself around him and it’s never once been awkward, they just agree on everything. 
It’s weird, sometimes it feels like Ethan doesn’t care about him but that also makes him a better friend to Peter. He acts like he’s less involved than he is, like he knows that Peter pushes people away when they get too close. The only person closer to Peter than Ethan is his aunt. 
But Ethan pretends he doesn’t know that, and it makes their bond stronger. Ethan’s opinion means the world to him, anything he says is taken with a mountain of salt. And no judgment, never, ever judgment. It takes a lot for him to say it, but he’d trust him with his life. 
When they’re down to the last ten Peter clears his throat, “have you gotten anywhere with the Salander sisters?” Ethan shrugs, “I’ve been feeling this girl in my bio class, she’s pretty cool. I invited her to the party, she seemed into me, I think.” 
“Woah, the Ethan Keznek catching feelings?” 
“Easy, I had two classes with her. She seems like she’d be fun to hang with, I’m not trying to date her.” 
Peter spits it out before he can stop it, “Tarrent thinks freshman and I will end up together.” 
Why the fuck does he keep thinking about her? 
She’s a fucking witch, she has to be. 
“The entitled one?” Ethan knows he can’t get his mind off her, he brought her up twice. And each time he looked like he regretted it, but he doesn’t care enough to push it. 
“Yeah. But he’s kinda dumb, right?” Peter doesn’t even know her, he hates how she’s been popping up in his mind throughout the day.
“He could be, or he may be a clairvoyant genius that sees the future. Personally, I vote for the latter.” 
Proof he’s a best friend, giving Peter an out through a joke. 
“He’s majoring in physical therapy but he should be a conspiracy theorist.” 
Final five, Peter’s ready for dinner. “Wanna hit up the dining hall after this?” 
“God yes, I need lo-mein noodles so bad right now.” 
—------------
The table was rowdy, everyone yelling over each other. If women thought men interrupting them was bad, they should see five men hanging out together. 
“Remember when Booker slapped me?” 
Paul dropped his fork, “no, what, when?”
Tarrent’s holding the edge of his plate to his mouth as he shovels rice in. “That’s hilarious.” 
Ethan sighs dreamily, “yeah, it was awesome.”
“Yes, Hasco. It happened like, three hours ago.” 
“Ah, fuck! I always miss the best shit, this is about to be Ally’s problem.” 
“I was stretching a cheerleader's hamstrings, I didn’t miss out on anything.” 
Ethan drops his fork to point at Tarrent, making sure Peter was paying attention. “He’s bragging, make him stop.” 
“Bakner, stop bragging, some of us are more lonely than others.” His words focused more on Paul, the guy that’s been with the same girl for six years. Like, everyone feels so bad he’s missing out on fights because he’s too busy being in love. 
It’s actually disgusting to Peter. 
“Don’t blame me, you guys are the ones against church girls.” 
Hasco sneers, “cause they try to convert us, I refuse to willingly be beneath another man.” 
Ethan loves riling him up, “hey, you never know, God may be a woman.” Hasco gives him a pathetic look, “c’mon man, not even you believe that.” Ethan nods his head like he’s got a point, Paul looks like he’s sick. 
“That is our lord you’re talking about, he died for us.” Paul’s a devoted christian… only when he felt the need to be. 
Peter taps his chin, “isn’t premarital sex one of the things he died for?” 
“What my girlfriend and I do behind closed doors is not the lord's business. Or yours.” 
The table ooed, Peter nods impressively, Ally’s given him a backbone. He pushes away from the table, he’s stuffed and needs to put his plates away. He also needs to piss. 
No one notices his descent, Peter looks over the dining hall, it’s always empty for dinner. Breakfast and lunch seemed impossible with seating, but for whatever reason dinner was always empty. 
Dropping his plates in a bin he politely nodded at a group of ladies before turning back for the bathroom, mumbling a song under his breath that was stuck in his head. “... Another bottle in the brain. Another girl, another fight,” Peter hit the door open with his shoulder, finishing his mumbling. “Another drive all night.” 
Peter had that weird feeling again, the one he felt when he saw that freshman. And fuck, he’s thinking about her again. 
She’s a witch, a real fucking witch. 
Peter moved his shoulders while he washed his hands, the song replaying over and over. Swinging the door open with this foot, he mumbled to himself again. “.. another bottle in the brain,” 
A voice speaks up, “another girl, another fight.” He jumps, his eyes fall to the left, perched at a high top was the witch. Her mouth wrapped around a spoon, a cup of fro-yo in her hand. Tarrent was wrong, he wasn’t noticing her. She kept showing up. 
“Hey,” he doesn’t like how winded he sounded. Who the fuck was she? 
“Hello, Peter.” 
His heart stopped, no one calls him Peter, no one. Since day one it’s been Parker, when he was recruited he was only addressed as Parker and it stuck. It’s weird she knew what his first name was, his suspicions are adding up. 
He wants to ask how she knew his name, but it’s cliche, and he really doesn’t care. If he guessed, it was probably Ally. It’s still a bold choice that she used it, it definitely separated her from the crowd. 
“And you are…” Waiting for her to fill in the blanks, if he could find out her name he can banish all traces of her in his mind, like a demon. 
A smirk wrapped around her plastic spoon, it scraped against her teeth as she removed it. 
“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” She thinks she’s clever, she’s not. 
“I’m sure you planned it, considering how you keep showing up around me.” That seems to tick her off, “no, you keep showing up where I already am.” 
“Now you’re just lying.” 
She raised three fingers, “scouts honor.” Peter looks around, “where are your friends?” 
Why is he still talking to her? She must have him under her spell. 
The witch hums, “can’t a girl get fro-yo alone?” 
“It’s a free country, babe. Do you, girl power, smash the patriarchy, all that stuff.” 
“Has anyone ever told you you’re slightly misogynistic?” 
Peter looks up at his brothers, it still seems like his absence hasn’t been noticed. Her eye contact is insane, it makes his knees weak like this morning. It’s gross, her powers have taken over his cerebrum. 
“Just one, I think she doesn’t know what misogyny is.” 
Her eyebrows shoot up, “you’re mansplaining now?” Peter’s eyes look at her mouth when she takes another spoonful. “Has anyone ever told you you’re slightly difficult?” It’s like his words egg her on, “just one, I don’t think he knows what difficult is yet.” 
“Yet? For a person with no name you’re bold.” Normally flirting doesn’t feel like this, he feels like he has to keep up with her. Peter hates that it feels like she always has the upper hand. 
She makes him feel like he could go all night.
The witch proves she’s difficult, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” She jumps out of her seat, for the fourth time she’s left him thinking about her. 
“Have a goodnight, Peter.” 
“Yeah, you too.” He’s weary and doesn’t trust her. 
Her back turned on him as she walked away, his eyes dropped to her ass and tilted his head impressively. He can’t deny a nice sight. 
Too bad she’s a witch. 
When he makes it back to the table it’s unnoticed, except for Tarrent, he gives Peter the smallest hint of a smile.
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FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH
It was the day he’s been preparing for all week. The official start of the year, he wouldn’t be able to get too loose tonight, he’d be too busy kicking out anyone puking, fighting or excessively crying. 
He also had a lecture and a lab today. He hates himself. If he plans it right, he’d have time to take a nap, not that he would, but the idea of one made him feel better. Speaking of naps, he still needs to set up a bed for Harvey in the chapter room. 
Rolling over, Peter picked up his phone and went straight for twitter. It was his morning news, scrolling for a little until a headline caught his eye. 
‘Spider-Menace’s scheduled slump.’ He clicks the link, it opens and he rolls his eyes, he should’ve expected it. 
‘Spider-Menace is no longer patrolling the streets nightly, don’t worry criminals, you won’t be out of a job anymore. To the real heroes of the city, the citizens, we bid ado to the masked vigilante. For the second year, Spider-Menace picked up activity during the summer months, and has plans to become a rare sight during the months that follow. 
It’s unsure what our ‘friendly’ city destroyer is up to, but we do know the ones trained for their job, the NYPD, are prepared for any threat. For more on Spider-Menace, download our app to be the first to know exclusive news updates.’ 
Just like usual, the Daily Bugle was dumb as shit. 
Peter Parker had shit to do, a life to build. Spider-Man didn’t pay the bills, Peter did. It doesn’t mean choosing himself over a daunting responsibility was easy, the first year he stressed himself so thin he lost his abilities. 
No strength, no healing, no heightened listening. He needed glasses for the first time in years, and for a second he swore his asthma came back. 
Needless to say, it freaked him the fuck out. He’s always viewed Spider-Man as a thing he had to do, the great responsibility his uncle Ben reminded him of. And when he lost it, he realized how much he wrapped himself into his alter ego. 
When Peter lost Spider-Man, he lost himself. And he swore if he got his powers back, he’d build a life for Peter outside them. 
And he did. He has been. And no matter what his uncle told him, he knows he’d be damn proud of him for doing it.
Peter pulls at the chain around his neck and looks at the ring on it, it was Ben’s wedding ring. May gave it to him when he turned eighteen, she said he had a dream and needed him to have it. He’s worn it every day since then. 
Bored of twitter he makes the switch to instagram, opening his messages and responding to the videos he’s been sent. For whatever reason he thinks about the witch, he wonders if he could find her from Ally’s page. He probably could, but it feels like cheating. 
Starting his day the same way, he walks to his bathroom yawning and pulling his boxers off. Starting the shower and wasting the time waiting for it to heat up by brushing his teeth, tugging at the front of his hair with a grunt. 
He needs a haircut. 
He should get one before the party. 
He also needs to buy booze. 
And two fucking classes, that fucking guy really was a Spider-Menace. 
‘Half lab, Peter. Half lecture.’ He thanks his own mind for the gentle reminder. The shower feels nice, it always does. On his bad days, the days where everything is too much it’s his safe place. He could stay in the shower for hours, the rushing water calms him, even when it turns ice cold. 
They don’t happen often, but it’s debilitating when they do. He spends his day hiding, on one really bad day he was curled up on the floor of the shower with his hands pressing into his ears as hard as they could, trying his best to block everything out and it wasn’t working, nothing was working. He remembers sobbing, praying to any God that would listen to help him. No one heard him. 
But that was last year. He had an episode over the summer, and as much as she didn’t want to leave him alone, he begged May to leave. Her walking around, or even sitting on the couch was too much. He could hear the fabric move underneath her, he could even hear her breathe. 
It took hours, but when he was defeated and went from hearing the city to a low, constant ring he was ready to sleep. He’d be okay in the morning, sometimes that’s the only thing that gets him through it. He called May and apologized, and told her she could come back to her own home. She laughed at him and said ‘it’s your home too,’ and that made him feel better than a shower ever could. 
But today wasn’t one of those days. Today, he was making it a good day. 
—--------------
Peter’s good day took a small dip when he had to skip breakfast. And by skipping breakfast, he means all he had was a fat spoonful of peanut butter and an apple to go. He forgot to refill his water before leaving and nearly choked to death on the glue in his mouth. 
Every dog in the world had gained his sympathy. 
But, today was a good day. Especially when he was seated next to a smoking hot chick, he wasted no time in casually looking her over, committing details to think of rather than stare. A black skater skirt exposed a tattoo of Medusa that took up her entire thigh, a white shirt with a Vans logo in the center, it was obvious she cut the sleeves herself. 
She was wearing a black bralette underneath, she was flat chested and he didn’t mind one bit. They suited her, she seemed too cool for him. She looked like she would ruin his life and he’d love every minute of it. 
He wasn’t wasting any time, “first time here?” 
The girl winced, he did too the second he said it. 
“That’s your opening line, really? Are you proud of that?” 
Peter shook his head, “I regretted it the second I said it. Usually I’m way cooler, but pretty girls make me nervous.” 
The girl smiles, she has teeth to envy. “Smooth, did you plan that whole thing?” He didn’t, but if she believes it he’s not one to ruin dreams. 
“Maybe things are working out in my favor, like sitting next to you.” 
There’s a gleam in her eye, “you’re a flirter, and that makes you dangerous.” Peter might be laying it on thick here, but she may like it. “Hm, do you like danger?” Her eyebrow quirks, “do you?” 
Oh, he wants her. 
Peter extends his hand out, “Parker, nice to meet you.” The girl shakes his hand, it’s ultra soft. “Nice to meet you, Parker.” 
What the fuck is up with girls not sharing their names? What’s he supposed to do, call them babydoll? 
“Any plans tonight?” 
“Your party, what else would I be doing?” 
Peter’s celebrating on the inside, she’s just been booted to the top of the list. 
“Glad to hear it, if you’re okay with it I’d love to play a game of pong with you.” 
The girl holds a hand to her chest, jewelry covering her fingers and wrist. 
“I’d be okay with it, not sure my girlfriend would be.” 
Peter’s entire world collapses, he meets the girl of his dreams and he’s the furthest thing away from her type. She seems overjoyed to share the news, the defeat on his face is the highlight of her day. When he takes a good look at her he’s reminded of someone else. 
“Is your name…” They say at the same time, “Lily?” 
“I was waiting on that one, handsome. Rose told me all about you, I had to get two for oh.” 
He has to take that one on the chin, “you live up to the hype, Lily.” She’s happy with his words, “same to you, Parker.” 
Peter plays it cool when the lecture starts, he’s trying to make it a good day. But all he can think about are the witches' words. Maybe he really has lost his frat boy edge, so far his only prospects have been two lesbians and a freshman. 
And just like that he has a burnt taste in his mouth, because he somehow rounded his thoughts back to her. 
She’s fucking evil, and she’s a witch.
—--------------
Peter’s standing at the edge of the kitchen looking over the liquor on the counter. It’s an impressive haul, he doesn’t think they have enough coolers and fridges for all the beer. The island would be spread out with all the bottles, mixers, cups, and as tradition calls, jungle juice. 
Tarrent is running around like a mad man, screaming at everyone but Peter to ‘fucking do something!’ Hasco’s preparing in his room and no doubt Trent’s joined him. Paul’s coming late due to Ally, no one’s shocked. Leaving Booker and Nick to follow every command from Tarrent. 
Peter should help out, and he will later, but he’s got to take a shower. He got the haircut he needed and he can feel little hairs poking into his neck, plus, he’s not sure what the night could bring. 
“Give me ten minutes to shower and I’ll help you guys, where’s E?” Booker shrugs, Nick’s sweating like a whore in church and Tarrent pauses to point and laugh. 
“Ha! Parker’s about to go wash his balls.” 
Peter squints at him, “yeah, girls tend to like that.” 
“Yeah- sure, whatever you say, buddy.” Nick looks between everyone’s face while he slowly asks, like everyone is scared of the answer. 
“Do you… Do you not wash your balls?” 
“Showering is a scam made up by Dove soap. People say you only need to shower like, once a week.” 
Peter shakes his head, “no, that’s not… Tarrent you work out all the time, I can’t believe I need to tell you, but you gotta wash your sack. In general and especially before you hook up, imagine a cheerleader after four days of practice and no shower asking you to munch down on her.” 
Tarrent is a different breed, “that’s the difference between us, Parker. I enjoy the musk.” 
Peter gags, Booker says, “man, that’s nasty.” Nick’s actually gagging, he’s got the weakest stomach to exist. 
“That’s what separates you boys from us men.” 
Nick whines through another gag, “I don’t wanna be a man, Parker, don’t let him make me a man.”
—-------------
Peter’s quiet as he gets ready. 
His frat shirt looks good, he’s not one to fawn over his body, but he can’t help but nod impressively at his build. His shirts tighter this year, evidence of hard work. His haircut is nice, it’s a little shorter than he normally goes but he’s not sure when he’d get time to go again, so he wanted some wiggle room. 
Even if it was bad no one would see it, at this point he feels naked without his snapback. Peter tucked his necklace into his shirt, he hates when girls ask him about it. He understands they need an ice breaker but it’s the worst one to bring up. 
Brushing down his jeans and making sure his Nike’s were clean, he was ready for the night to start. He doesn’t know how he did it, but Tarrent had set up the entire kitchen by himself, snapping his fingers at Peter the second he saw him, requesting help for moving the couch. 
Peter’s hands gripped at the edge of the couch, nodding at Tarrent, “ready?” They lift it in one go, moving to set it against the wall, then do the same to the other one, and the chairs. All that was left was a giant open space, couches and chairs were free game, but it made more space for more bodies. 
“Make sure the keg fridge is working, I’m gonna go wash my balls.” 
At least he took the advice.
Peter heads to the garage with a plastic cup and pulls at the keg tap, it takes a second and foam rushes out, then ice cold miller light. It was a small gimmick Peter made when he was pledging and he swears to this day that’s what got him sworn in. 
He bought an old fridge off a grad student and emptied it out, threw a keg in and sawed a hole in the front to feed a tube and the tap. It was genius, everyone loved it. Peter chugs the beer and tosses the foam, they’ve got an hour until people start showing. 
Peter wonders when the witch will show up, will he be able to feel her presence before he sees her? It’d be a nice warning but he doesn’t have the best control at gaging people he doesn’t know that well yet. 
He needs to stop thinking about her, and fuck, he needs to make that bed for Harvey before Trent snaps his neck. Racing around for sheets and pillows, Peter opens the chapter door and sets up the pull out couch, he’s not a homemaker by any means but he’d be fine to sleep here. 
“Oh good, I was making sure you were doing your job.” 
Peter jumps, turning to look back at Trent. “I mean, not really my job, but sure.” 
“You’re testy this year, don’t challenge me in front of Harvey, I need his respect.” Wow, the first time Trent ever admitted he needed something. Even if Peter doesn’t like him, he can respect his dedication to proving he could truly run the frat. 
“Sir, yes, sir.” Peter salutes to his president, it makes him break his rough exterior, he’s nervous. 
“That’s more like it, Parker.” 
—----------------
“I think Harvey’s here.” 
Peter moved to stand next to Ethan on his balcony, looking down at a Mercedes pulling into the driveway. “Yeah, that’s him.” His best friend scoffs, “isn’t it shit how the richest kids don’t appreciate what they have the most?” 
“The fuck are you talking about, Kez? Don’t you have CFO daddy money?” 
Ethan’s sharp, “don’t you have dead parents money?” 
It went silent, both shocked he said it. Until they start laughing, if anyone else had said it, it would be in poor taste. When Ethan says it, he’s laughing with Peter, it’s like he shares the massive trauma with him. 
“And dead uncle, check cleared the second after I turned twenty one.” 
“That life insurance pays out, doesn’t it?” 
Peter nods, breaking from the joke for a second. At the time when Ben had created it and fed into it, it was rare to have such a good plan. 
“Oh yeah, he had awesome fucking benefits. My aunt still gets pension checks, he’s been dead for eight years.” 
“No shit? That’s pretty fucking sick.” 
“And not that they had any obligation to, but his company paid for the entire funeral.” 
Peter doesn’t open up much, but it’s casual with Ethan. Even so, he doesn’t like showing his cards, it was minor, but he’s said more than enough. 
“Hey! You, um…” Peter trails off when he relights the joint, the flame expanding before shrinking back down. His voice goes deep when he talks through an exhale, “got any plans with bio chick?” 
“Nah, I’m just gonna play it cool. We have the semester together, too much too fast and it’s a dumpster fire.” 
True fucking that. Obsessed Olivia ruined the first half of his second year, after that, he swore he wouldn’t hook up with a classmate before a two week period. (Unless he counts the lesbians, and he does not, because it’s not happening.) 
“That’s so real, you’re so real for that.” 
“I’ve been enlightened, I went to a sweat lodge retreat this summer and my third eye has been opened.” 
Peter feels sick, “that’s the most rich kid shit I’ve ever heard.” Ethan smacks his arm, “I know how busy you are in the summer, otherwise I would’ve invited you.” Sometimes he feels like Ethan gives him a wink, wink, nudge, nudge look, but he’s also slightly paranoid and Ethan’s usually high. 
“Oh. Damn. So sad I missed that.” It was monotone, and Ethan waves him off. “Sure, make fun of me now, but next year you’re coming and you’ll love it.” 
“No, I need water. I’ll die.” 
“I mean, you get water, dude. They just suck all of it out of you first and push you to the brink of death and delusion until you give into your ego and admit defeat because you’d do anything for a drop of water.” 
Peter stares at him in horror. 
“It’s awesome, dude.” 
The boys turn their heads at a footstep on the deck, Harvey Gyun in his Burberry glory. He pushes aviators up to his hair, arms open wide in greeting, like he was about to tackle them. 
“What’s up, you short dicks?” 
Harvey’s a cool guy. It’s pretty surface level with him, he’s a rich asshole, only because he doesn’t know any better. But he still treats you well. 
Peter could put up with him snapping at a waitress if it meant he was getting a free two hundred dollar meal, and he has. Several times. 
Peter shouts out, “the king is back!” Harvey nods to the clapping, “that he is, that he is. How about you princesses bow for me?” 
He's an alum. You do what they say, kidding or not. 
The chapter officers bow at his request, Harvey giggles and rubs his hands together. “I forgot I have that power now, I’m gonna fuck with Simpson so hard. Be honest, how freaked out was he about me coming?” 
As much as he didn’t like Trent he promised him he’d make him look good. 
“Not bad, he was actually pretty chill.” Ethan doesn’t need to understand the bluff to back it, it’s his job as best friend. 
“More excited to show you he’s ready for this, you did good at preparing him last year.” 
Harvey can smell bullshit a mile away, but knowing the officers were dedicated to their president speaks volumes. The frat will be just fine without him. 
“Good backing, boys. Daddy taught you well. Finish that,” he points at the joint, “and meet me downstairs. We need a toast before the year starts.” 
Harvey Gyun has a kind of energy Peter’s never seen before. “Yes, sir.” Harvey kisses his teeth, rubbing at his lawline, Peter clocks his watch. It’s sixty grand. 
“Such good boys.” 
When the coast is clear, Ethan turns to Peter with a bit lip and a whimper. “I hate how much I loved that.” It’s not Peter’s preferred voice, but he can’t pretend he doesn’t know what he means. 
“Yeah, good boy makes a man feral.” Peter passes the joint Ethan’s way, “kill it.” 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Good boy.” 
“Shut the fuck up.” 
—--------------------
Peter looks around the room at his small group of brothers. When everyone else joined in, it’d be a blended family. But no one could ever be as close as these six guys, they’ve been through it all together. 
He’s proud of himself and everybody in the room. 
Three years. They’ve made it three years and as dumb as he’s always thought it was, even with all their minor grievances, he’s made friends for life. Even if they fall out of touch for a few years, he'll be at the wedding and the funeral. 
“I won’t lie, it feels weird not hosting freshman Friday this year. But you fuckers have made it three years in and I couldn’t be prouder in my choice of men to recruit. Tonight, we party, we mistake, we regret and we have fun. And- I think Simpson’s the best president you could have.” 
Trent visibly relaxes, everything he’s been praying for came to fruition. Harvey must have known he wouldn’t be able to do any of those things if he was paranoid of being watched all night. Harvey raised his shot glass and everyone did the same, taking a second to clap Trent’s shoulder before addressing the group.
The group chanted as one, “Sig Nu!” 
Shot glasses double tapped on the counter, tequila was a bold choice. It was just the thing he needed for the night to start. Ethan’s eyes on the clock, he nudges Tarrent. 
“Booker, Nick, collectors fee.” 
They leave to stand guard outside the door, nodding at a forming line. Trent leaves with Harvey, Tarrent goes to set up the music that Hasco will take over once he’s done getting a fix. Ethan’s yelling at Hasco through the bathroom door about ‘not getting too coked up’ and Hasco biting back with a ‘fuck you!’ 
Peter shakes his shoulders and takes a step, Tarrent stops him with a hand on his chest. His voice lowered, looking around so no one would hear. 
“Talk to the freshman. I mean it, Parker.” 
It always circles back to her.
Witch, witch, witch, witch. 
“You’re delusional.” 
“Maybe I am, or maybe you trust me and talk to the girl.” 
Peter wants to correct him, inform him she’s a witch because he can’t get her out of his mind. But the real reason she was a witch was because she made Peter want to talk to her more. 
And that’s not who he is. 
So, she has to be a witch. 
Right?
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YOUR FIRST WEEK.
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH
It may have been the first day of the year, but the cafeteria was buzzing. 
Breakfast in the food hall didn’t feel this busy on a normal school week. It seemed like everyone was sitting with their friends sharing a breakfast burrito or an orange, catching up from summer break. You were entertaining your friend group talking about a summer vacation and part time job you took up to save up spending cash for the school year. 
(And leaving out the real source of cash- it’s cheating and you have to hide your eyes from Noa.)
Five people were at your table. 
Ally Storm, dating Matt Paul of Sig Nu, second and third year roommate. 
Sarah Adams, nursing student and never around.
Prince Otto, three years in and major undeclared. 
Natalie Fieldman, roommate your freshman year, art major. 
And Noa Carter, computer science superfreak. 
The group talked over each other, then quieted down when nine hit. Everyone except you, Ally and Prince went to class. Leaning in when she spoke, you and Prince strained to hear, unaware she’d be spilling secrets.
“All that talk about this summer and you don’t even bring up Harvey?” 
Harvey was the best well kept secret you had, he graduated last year and was an official alumni of Sigma Nu. You’d kept hooking up all summer, before parting ways when you moved back for college, keeping the door open so when he visited there was always an option. 
“Woah, woah, woah. Harvey Gyun? I need when, where, why and what, right now.” 
Holding up a hand you raise a finger at each point, “like three weeks before he graduated, my dorm or his room at a party, to have fun with zero commitment, and Ally would’ve never known if Matt didn’t see me sneaking out of his room at like, five am.” 
Prince sucked his teeth, “he’s a prick, he said he was only sleeping with me.” 
“Oh, what the fuck.” 
Prince was seeing him too? Ally slammed her hand over her mouth, it’s how you felt. 
“Double dipping bitch.” 
You shrug, “you gotta respect a man’s hustle sometimes, Prince.” 
Ally reached a hand out on the table, silently demanding attention. “You know who’s hustling will earn my respect?” A hand patted your shoulder, “our friend here, and it’s currently recruiting season at the frat house, thirty two new boys introduced.” 
Your eyes bug out, “thirty two, what the fuck? How are they keeping count this year?” You could be an actress if you tried.
“Apparently, twelve will be cut by the second week. Then hazing starts, so we’ll scope it out next week and make our bets.” 
“Prince, please pick a winner this year.” 
Green hair swayed when he shook his head, arms crossed. “Nope, I got a thing for the underdog.” 
Ally grinned up at her boyfriend when he took a seat next to her, three breakfast burritos on a plate. Your eyes flashed up for the rest of the frat, scanning the food lines you counted heads. Aaron, Keznek, Hasco, Bakner. Trying not to let the disappointment show you looked back at Ally, talking quicker than lightning to her boyfriend, who definitely wasn’t listening as he scarfed burritos down. 
Looking at the time you frown, you had an appointment with your class advisor and a shitload of books to rent and buy. Standing, you look over to the coffee bar, having enough time you grab another cup and go. 
You rattle your paper cup as show and hitch a near empty bag over your shoulder. “Meeting with my advisor, have a lovely first day my friends.”  Matt gave an extra loud goodbye as you walked off, sending him a middle finger behind your back. Saying quick ‘excuse me’s’ as you passed through the crowd, doing your best to avoid shoulders. 
Approaching the small, self-serve coffee cart you open your cup, then see a ‘please use a new cup each time!’ sign and followed instructions, grabbing a piping hot pot of coffee, full of caffeine and loaded up.
Steam billowed over your fingers as you filled the cup up, peering over the assortment of milk and sugar you grin at your pick of the litter. 
Looking over to your left when someone stands next to you, you feel your heart race. Swiping his card at checkout and sharing conversation with the line worker, you’ve never seen anything more attractive. You allow yourself to imagine him handing his card to a waiter at dinner, a dinner he asked you out to. 
Even more handsome than the last time you saw him, a secret crush. 
Last year he had broken up a fight between some twins that were later kicked out the frat, watching him tear them apart and slam the bigger one to the ground as the other was held back by Keznek, made something click in your brain and suddenly you had your eye out for Peter Parker everywhere you went. 
The comedic irony being you’ve never spoken to him, fairly sure he doesn’t even know you exist. Flying under his radar for two years, last year boosting you with confidence with your hookup partners, you promised this was the year of going after what you want. 
And you wanted Peter Parker. 
Snapping the lid you turn to leave, sliding sideways between two tables. About to cross by the table you were just sitting at, you look down at your shoe, losing balance and shoulder checking the person next to you, quickly apologizing. 
“So sorry!” 
The universe had your back, who else did you bump into other than your crush himself? 
Brown hair hidden under a snapback, a heather gray t-shirt with red details, his fraternity logo on the corner of his chest and a full piece on the back. Brown eyes with a honey ring looked at you, for a moment you felt your chest tighten. Peter Parker was about to talk to you, it felt like your tongue went thick, until his eyes hardened and looked at you with disgust. 
A sneer, “fucking freshman.” 
What a prick, it was a tap and you apologized. He wasn’t the person you’d hoped he’d be, it was a shame he was too cute.  “I hope you fucking choke.” You bark at him, words spilling before you could think, then bolting.
Peter’s eyes go wide at your statement, whizzing by a table and up the steps you leave the dining hall. Stomping away, like your harsh steps could be proof for the discontent you felt. It felt somewhat satisfying, because you felt him watching you all the way out. 
It may have not been what you liked, but there was no way Peter Parker wouldn’t know who you are after today. 
—-----------------------
Shaking your leg and tapping the heel of your foot on the linoleum you look around, arms crossed as you rope over your future. The easy years are over, it’s all about focusing on your major now. 
Your advisor is nowhere to be seen, you can’t imagine how many people she’s seeing this week. Eyes catching the inspirational posters in her office, they’re cheesy at best, but damn if they don’t make you feel slightly proud of yourself for getting this far. 
Gripping your coffee cup, you look at the cafeteria logo and grimace. 
Your meet cute was more like a meet ugly, but maybe he was having a bad day? It’s not like you were all sunshine and roses, the start of the school year sucked, and if you knew anything about last night, he was probably hungover. Unlike you, because you knew the consequences of your actions, you chose to stay in no matter how hard Ally had begged. 
‘C’mon, please?’ she dragged out her ‘e’ and gave you puppy dog eyes. 
‘Tempting, but no.’ your bed was extremely comfortable underneath you. 
‘Please? I don’t wanna go alone.’ if you didn’t know Ally as well as you do you might have given in, but you knew she was full of bullshit. 
‘I’m not getting out of bed, dressing, and going to sit in a loud ass frat house while you practice making babies with your boyfriend.’ 
Argument proved right the next day when she arrived back at the dorm at six in the morning, makeup smeared and a memory of a wild night. The only thing shared before she fell into her bed and passed out for the next two hours was, ‘why did you let me do that? You suck.’ 
Blinking out of the fog when the door opens, you’re greeted by the same advisor you’ve had for the last two years. “Halfway there, kiddo.” Grinning at her words, scared, but prepared for the next step. Mrs. Caliban swayed her hips as she walked to her desk, sitting in her chair and pushing her glasses to her hair. 
“Let’s figure out what books you really need, hm?” 
Settling into your seat and crossing your legs, holding your knee in place with your palms. 
“I’m ready for some of that Mrs. Caliban magic.” 
Watching her look over your classes you appreciate how hard she’s working, crunching numbers and using her knowledge as proof of purchase she tsks as she looks over your requirements log. 
“Half of these you won’t use, my advice? Friend up with a sucker who buys one and use theirs on the rare or off chance you actually need it.” 
Your heart soaring when she gives you your new sheet, initialing on her copy and stopping yourself from bouncing in your seat. You’re getting her a care package, you don’t care what she says. She’s your guardian angel that just saved you six hundred bucks and secured your ski tip this December. 
“Mrs. Caliban, you just did wonders for me, you have no idea.” 
You can’t tell if she’s blushing but her response makes you think she is. 
“The miracles are why I do it, kiddo. Now, if you don’t mind, I have thirty seven others to make today.” 
You caught the hint, scrambling from your seat and hooking an empty bag around your shoulder, prepared to be filled with less books than you were prepared for. How crazy. 
Mrs. Caliban’s voice called out your last name before you could open the door, “I have a good feeling about you, I think it’ll be your year. I’m proud of you.”
And damn if that doesn’t make your eyes water. 
“I’m counting on it now, Mrs. Caliban. Don’t be wrong.” 
Her face tells you you have nothing to worry about, it’s an unamused expression. 
“Tell me, baby. When have I ever been wrong?” 
You can’t think of one. 
—--------------
You couldn’t keep the grin off your face, thumbs moving as quickly as possible across your keyboard. It was already planned for, and it was going to happen no matter what, but what your advisor just did for you tied the bow. And gave you some fun money.
‘Guess who just saved $600 and is DEFINITELY going on the ski trip?’ 
Ally’s response was immediate.
‘telling matt rn so he can secure the spot. SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS!!!!’ 
Butting your hip against the bar doorknob, you swung the door outwards and stepped outside, your eyes adjusting to the light. Blinking quickly, you peered up and took a wide step towards the right, heading to the bookstore. 
‘Dude, you have no idea. Mrs. Caliban is a fucking hero.’ 
‘i will give her my life for making it possible for this to happen.’ 
‘you have no idea, i was about to be so miserable with no other girls there.’ 
‘Prince is close enough.’ 
Suddenly, he has something to say. The group chat was his idea but it’s really just you and Ally talking to each other while Prince reads it and randomly jumps in. Peeking up and approaching the line for the bookstore, which wrapped around the building you looked back down at your messages. 
‘Hey, popping in to say a few choice words.’ 
‘Fuck you.’ 
You heart reacted his message, biting your lip in a silent giggle. Ally laugh reacted, which made Prince follow up with a middle finger emoji. Forgetting how close you were to the line, and lost in the excitement of saving money and going on a ski trip you lose focus and crash into the person in front of you. 
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you and I’m sorry!” 
And, oh fuck, you recognize that shirt. It was ingrained in your mind that morning. If you thought he wasn’t going to forget you earlier then you’ve just signed it into law, he’d never forget you now. 
It’s proven when he hits you with the same insult from earlier, you don’t know why it annoys you so much, maybe it’s the assumption. Or maybe it’s because it should be obvious that you weren’t a freshman. 
“Want a tip? Look where you’re walking.” He says it with a bitter laugh, like he’s just so funny. 
Peter Parker seemed like a nice guy. You didn’t know him, sure, but when you watched him at parties he seemed nice and respectful. And sure, you get his discomfort but only to a certain level. You did break his personal space twice, but him berating you and making you feel like shit just because you weren’t paying attention was a dick move.
It was an accident, both times. And you apologized profusely, at this point it’s on him to not accept the apology and be bitter. It says nothing about you and everything about him. So, it’s only fair if you call him out on his bullshit and state the obvious, he was a dick that spewed too many pet names. 
It reeked of condescending and you didn’t have time for it. Maturely, you spun your back on him and redirected your attention on your phone. 
Immaturely, Peter asked if you backed down, thinking you couldn’t win in a pissing contest with him. 
You kept reminding yourself it spoke more about him than yourself, until you really didn’t understand the anger so you just have to ask. 
This message was sent privately. 
‘What the fuck is Parker’s problem and who hurt him?’
‘sig nu parker? i dunno, why?’ 
‘He’s a dick. Is he normally a dick or has he singled me out to be his hate train?’ 
‘why is parker picking on you?? no, he’s very nice. what did u do?’ 
‘I bumped into him twice and he keeps calling me freshman :(‘ 
‘well… u better kiss and makeup cause you guys are airplane buddies on the trip.’ 
You stare at your screen with an open jaw, Mrs. Caliban was wrong, it was a terrible year and it literally just started. 
‘Oh you’re fucking with me, right?’ 
‘... right, Ally?’ 
‘😶 ummmm i would lie, but there’s no point.’ 
‘Oh my god, take one for the team and just sit with me. You’ll survive without Matt for four hours.’ 
‘i would. i swear i would, but we already bought the seats, speaking of… i was praying for a miracle and pre-bought your seat soooo. 😬’ 
‘And Prince wasn’t a good enough option????????????????????’ 
‘ok, princess. to be FAIR we didn’t know you hated each other so…’ 
‘plenty of time to kiss and makeup tho!!!’ 
Feeling safe enough to turn around, you ease when he’s got his focus on his own phone. Safely avoiding each other, you can breathe better. 
‘Just so you know my current situation, he’s actively hating me so you kiss and makeup that.’ 
Until your shoes hit his, and he hits you with a cocky grin that sends your heart skipping. It’s unfair he’s so attractive, he can’t be mean and hot, they cancel out. Unless it’s on him, because then it’s down right tempting and frustrating. 
“This one’s on me, sweetheart.” 
Knowing you’ll have to keep the peace for at least three months makes it doable, and if you can keep it cool, then you could avoid each other peacefully. Until a five hour flight; with him, you’re rounding up. 
Peter’s offer makes you question his character. He went from hating you in a second to.. dare you say flirt? Yet again insinuating you’re a freshman, you were about to correct him but stopped. No use, he’d figure it out soon enough. He’d also find out his flight partner soon enough, and if you thought you were unhappy with the news, you couldn’t wait to see him blow up. 
You could see a backup plan written on his face. His attitude flipped in a second, he went from displeased to charming quicker than you’ve ever seen. 
It’s not right how much you wanted to give in, but you wouldn’t be so easy, especially after he’s been so mean. 
Calling him out on his bullshit, you could see he was humbled a bit. Not expecting his play to be announced step by step. What made it better was gaining the upper hand on him, this time you sent him away second guessing himself. 
Smirking, you pull your phone back out. 
‘Nvm, thought it over, Parker seems fun.’ 
‘oh. so he flirted with you.’ 
‘Now, why would you even say that?’ 
‘cause i know you, lol. also, he’s a tough guy to hate. it’s something about him.’ 
Well, you’ll just have to figure that out yourself. 
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WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH
The science building smelt like chemicals, a faint mixture of formaldehyde and bleach. It was oddly comforting and felt homey. Even if you felt like everyone around you was smarter than you, it didn’t feel intimidating. Everyone supported everyone in this hall. 
Your feet subconsciously match to the beat of the music flowing through your earphones, smiling at a person sharing the hallway when you curve around the corner. You liked biology just fine, so much so you’re minoring in it. 
But you could also admit that this particular semester was going to drag on. Field botany just wasn’t your thing. Plants were incredibly boring to you, they always have been. Save the planet, produce more trees, stop cutting them down, produce more oxygen, all those things. 
At the end of the day, learning about plants sucked the life out of you and you were feeling very neutral about the class. You followed a classmate through the door, grazing over the mostly empty room. It was smaller than you expected, you had the pick of the litter. 
Middle, middle row was the superior spot. Close enough to pay attention, but far enough to not gain it. Sitting in the center left you throw your bag in the seat next to you and start to set things up, pulling out your laptop, the class syllabus and a pen. 
Putting your headphones away and sitting straighter, you focus on the whiteboard, in rainbow bubble letters is your professor's name, ‘Dr. Thatcher.’ It’s cute, you grin at the small hint of personality. Watching students slowly fill in the back rows you sit straighter knowing your row would be next, hopeful your neighbors would be friendly. 
Your head turns when the seat next to you is filled, it’s a frat boy. 
“God, I am so fucking excited for this term, how about you?”
It’s Ethan Keznek. You never studied him, you knew who he was but you never actually noticed him, but looking into his eyes all you could think of was how long his eyelashes were. It seems like he’s noticing you too, he’s sly with it but he’s looking you up and down. 
“Plants aren’t my thing, but I’m assuming they’re yours?” 
A toothy smile, you can immediately tell he’s had braces before. He releases a breath before exploding, “god, they’re amazing, aren’t they? Self sustaining, self producing, they literally give us the air we breathe. How could you not find plants extraordinary?” 
Ethan’s eyes have a twinkle, it shows passion. You tilt your chin at him, “please tell me you’re majoring in botany, the world needs a lorax.” He breaks into a laugh, it’s charming and contagious, you smile with him. 
“Lucky guess, what’s yours?” 
You shift in your seat to face him better, “biology’s actually my minor, I’m majoring in english.” Ethan whistles, “big reader?” You nod, “if you ever need some recommendations, I’m your girl.” 
Ethan tilts his head and sticks his hand out, “Ethan Keznek, nice to meet you.” You stick your hand in his and shake it, it’s strikingly soft. You introduce yourself and his smile grows, “well,” he says your name and pauses, both of your eyes looking to the front when your new professor enters. 
He talks softly, “I will make it my personal mission to make you enjoy plants this semester.” You turn to focus on the front but talk out the corner of your mouth, “unless someone like you cares a whole lot…” 
You bite back a grin when you catch him laughing silently, both of you sitting in quiet when your teacher starts to introduce herself. She’s young and a redhead, everything about her seems symmetrical. Something tells you the semester wouldn’t be so bad. 
The class was an hour, followed by an hour lab. Class wasn’t bad, the first day was always easy, mostly introductions to the class, the work and the expectations. You stood and stretched before slowly repacking your belongings, Ethan working at the same speed, you assume to keep up with you. 
As he zipped his backpack, Ethan cleared his throat and looked at you. You raised your eyebrows and waited, “I know it’s the first day, but would you want to be my lab partner?” It’s the first time you’ve truly met him, but you feel nothing but comfortable around him, he’s kind. 
“It would be my honor.” 
—---------
Peter Parker was handsome, and pretty, and captivating and slightly mean. You couldn’t stay away from him, but his attitude was enough to make you question if he’s worth the frustration. 
You swore to yourself you’d go after him this year, you promised you’d get him into bed. But you can’t deny how good Ethan looked in a lab coat; even safety goggles couldn’t dim those green-brown eyes. 
“God I missed this, I was separated from test tubes and pipettes all summer.” 
You breathe out your nose as a laugh, “you’re one of those kids that lost his shit over getting a chemistry set for christmas, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, mouthing numbers as he counts his drops, looking at you and the sheet in front of you, bouncing back and forth until you catch the hint. 
“Oh!” You scribble the reaction, smiling when he corrects you. “It was a botany kit.” 
Looking over at him you can feel a tiny tug on your stomach, it felt like you were losing the plot from Peter. You wanted it to work with Peter, you didn’t really know him outside of surface value, but it felt like you did, and you know that sounds weird, but when he’s around you feel a bit more like yourself. 
But Ethan’s easy. “Of course it was.” Ethan’s back to measurements, “you doing anything Friday?” You nibble at your cheek, you know what he’s about to ask. “Nope, you?” He nods, “the frat’s doing freshman Friday,” Ethan looks over his shoulder to ask you, “planning on coming?” 
Peter may have asked you first, and you promised you’d be committed to the task, but if he viewed you as a backup plan, you should have one too. Not that Ethan was a second choice, he was just another option at this point. 
“Are you kidding? The Sig Nu freshman welcome is famous for a reason, you think I’d miss it?” Ethan diverted his attention to the PH chart on the page resting between you. 
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He cleared his throat and nodded at a test tube, “that’s a solid four, don’t you think?” You hold your hands up in surrender, “you’re the plant expert, lorax.” 
Your pencil is plucked from your hand, he writes his fours odd. He can’t stop making you smile, “well, unless someone like me cares a whole lot…” 
—---------------
The entire group was at your dorm. By the entire group you mean Ally, Matt, Prince, and Natalie. A pack of forgotten cards scattered on the floor, everyone focused on their red cups and speaking over each other. Sarah was unable to join in person, but she’s on a facetime call and jumping in when she can.
“On god, I’m gonna fuck my atonamy professor this year.”  You choked at Sarah’s comment, Natalie immediately cheering, “who is it?” Sarah bit her lip explaining, “just the hottest hunk of ass to exist. Dr. Youge, and trust me, I wanna go rogue, if you know what I mean.”
“Can confirm, he’s sexy.” 
Matt breaks from his twelve minute makeout with Ally, “Prince, you think everyone’s sexy.” He’s nodding accordingly, “because they are.” 
“Is this a good time to say Nate and I made it official?” The group overlaps in exclaims, Natalie in the hot seat for a second, her cheeks on fire. 
“When?!” 
“Why didn’t you say anything?!” 
“What?!” 
Natalie pushes her hair behind her ears, gold jewelry on display. “Um, well, basically he said he didn’t picture himself settling down but the idea of someone being able to swoop me up made him sick.” 
You and Ally form a chorus, Prince joins in halfway through while Matt claps his hands over his ears, “awwww.” He can’t stand the squealing, “yeah, yeah, yeah…” Matt kicks your knee, “did you know Harvey's coming on friday?” 
Interest piqued, you hadn’t known, but the promise of the night ending in sex was in your cards and it makes everything about the first week of school better. A reward, if you will. 
In two days you have three prospects, Mrs. Caliban was right, this was your year. “I didn’t but…” your eyes shoot to Prince’s, you’d claim dibs because he was yours first, but you didn’t want a hookup to cause a friendship to rift.
“Oh please, I was sloppy seconds. He’s yours.” You stick out your tongue, “why else would he come?” 
“The frat. To help the frat kick off the start of the year, because he's an alum. Of the frat.” 
Natalie scoffs, “Ally, tell your boyfriend he’s stupid. Harvey’s obviously coming for girly and girly alone. Your frat is just a cover up.” It wasn’t, but Matt was gullible and hell bent on proving you wrong. 
“No, it’s tradition. All the old chapter presidents come back after their first graduation. It’s a hello and goodbye thing, like a, um… what am I thinking of, babe?” Ally fixes a piece of his hair sticking straight up, “passing of the torch?” Matt’s thick hand squeezed her bum sending Prince gagging and Natalie blushing. “So fuckin’ smart, I love when you know what I’m thinking.” 
Natalie jumps up after looking at her cracked phone screen, “and I’m thinking Nate’s wondering where I am cause I forgot we had a date tonight.” Ally hissed in through her teeth, “play the ‘helped a crying friend’ card, say Matt and I got in a fight.” 
Matt stage whispers, “we didn’t have a fight, right?” His girlfriend shakes her head, patting at the tuft of hair sticking up from his scalp, “no, honey.” A grin cracks, “good-” Ally interrupts, “unless Nate asks, then we got in a fight and you made me cry.” 
“A total mess, she was weeping all over the floor. Natalie had to help me get her into bed.” Prince jumps in, “I was also there, and crying in support of the Matt strike.” 
“So, call you guys if I need to bury a body? Got it.” You speak over the group laugh, “yeah, right. Call Noa, she’d have that shit taken care of in an hour.” 
“No, but that’s actually so true.” 
“She’s scary but in a sexy way.” Matt groans, “again with the sexy, Prince, good lord.” 
“Everyone’s sexy! We’ve been over this!” 
Natalie slowly gathers her things, giving you and Ally a silent salute at the door, Prince and Matt bickering back and forth. Looking back at your laptop you shrug, Sarah’s made another silent escape. You wave to your friend watching the door creak open, Natalie doesn’t feel bad for missing out. Neither does Sarah, apparently. “Okay, have fun, byeee.” The door slamming made the boys stop, blinking aware and immediately forgetting why they were debating. 
The main squad together at last, you bring the real topics to the table. Clearing your throat and pouring a new drink, you look at the group. “So, Paul, what’s the inside scoop with the pledges and how do I make money out of this?” (As if you didn’t already know.)
Ally and Prince start speaking over each other. “Nope!” 
“Not happening!” 
“There’s a reason Matt doesn’t vote! He’s biased!” Matt plows right through, “thou shall not steal, it’s a commandment, babe.” You snort, “and what would I be stealing?” 
The blonde shrugs, “my knowledge.” 
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THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH
Sleep was tasting good today, you planned on sleeping in as long as you could. The type of sleeping where you get tired of sleeping and open your eyes wide awake and well rested. 
The keyword was planned, it’s been a nice summer off from Ally and Matt, because you forgot how they were early risers and were dependent on you for their enjoyment. 
“Hey, get up.” You politely ignore the request, it’s already too bright, Ally ripped the curtains apart so you’re hidden under your pillow. 
“Oh roomie, please rise.” Even when a pillow slams down on your butt you don’t move, you even attempt to hold your breath, hopeful they’d think you were dead and let your body decompose into your mattress. You wheeze for air and try to scramble from the bed when Matt throws himself on top of you, bouncing and pushing all his weight into you, rattling your name off like an impatient toddler. 
“I miss the days when Ally slept at the house,” you try and yell it out, it comes out in squeaks when Ally mounts Matt, “it’s my day off and I’m getting dogpiled!” 
“Get up! There’s belgian waffles at the dining hall!” You had the entire day to nap, there were waffles to be eaten. You wriggle around until the bodies on you disappear and you’re heaving for air. Throwing the blanket off and standing you give your friends a staredown before ripping your shirt off. Matt throws his hands over his eyes and screams, “thou shall not commit adultery, thou shall not commit adultery!”
“If you sleep here you see my boobs, Ally knows the rules!” Matt’s screaming at his girlfriend, “it’s a sin! Adultery is a sin!” Ally pushes his side, “you screamed sin before you saw nipple!” You’re changing clothes as fast as you can, if anything Matt would be scarred and keep Ally with him at his place, then you might be able to get some real sleep. 
“Sorry, Matt, but, uh… maybe if you sleep at your house you won’t see my boobs?” Ally gives you a glare from God himself, “Matty, this is what she wants. Next time, you better stare right at them.” Her boyfriend cries out, “no!” You roll your eyes, “all covered, you sinner. I’m ready for waffles.” 
Matt can’t even look at you in the eyes, a weary finger is pointed at your chest. “Temptation lives in you.”
—----------------
 If there wasn’t butter coating each small square in your waffle, there wasn’t enough butter. Noa Carter slides into a seat next to you, wiping syrup from your chin, you smile and take another bite. 
“Pledge secured?” Your eyes shoot around, looking for Ally and Matt, it eases your racing heart when they’re still in line loading up. 
“I’m meeting with Trent tomorrow night.” You feel gross, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do. “Do you think anyone’s gonna find out?” Noa chews on the straw from her ice coffee, “if Trent lets it slip to anyone else then Matt finds out, if he finds out Ally does, and once she knows, everyone knows.” 
“Fuck, I know. He can’t say anything, we- I mean, I have leverage.” 
“You think he can’t buy his way into school again?” You shake your head, speaking while you chew, “not without everyone knowing.” Noa tilts her head, she’s saying ‘fair point,’ with her motion. You grab her hand, “hey, thanks again. For the help, and keeping it between us.” 
Noa was nice, but not kind. She was a valuable resource for the group but made it clear she was into friendships for the transactional side. Noa could keep a secret, and she knew people in places you didn’t know existed, but if you used those talents she’d need yours in return. A deal with the devil each time you talk to her. 
“You’re indebted to me, you know that, right?” She was serious too, not fucking around while trying to get the last bit of coffee through the ice. You nod stiffly, it could be today or twenty years, but when she calls in that favor you have to abide. 
“Hey, Noa!” Ally’s always nice, Matt barely looks at her before shoving the corner of a waffle in his mouth. Noa looks at him in disgust and taps her knuckles on the table, “I'm out, see you later.” Ally pouts, “bye, Noa!” She smiles politely, “goodbye, Ally.” 
You thank her again with your eyes, “you coming to the party tomorrow?” Noa rotates her hand back and forth, giving you a so-so response. “We’ll see.” Watching Noa walk off you can understand how people find her both mesmerizing and scary, she carries herself in a way that screams she’s the smartest in the room and you believe it. 
“What are you wearing tomorrow?” You face Ally and watch her chew on a strawberry, “dunno yet, wanna dress me?” Her face lights up, nodding quickly she swallows, “I got this top over the summer and it’s gonna look so good on you!” Matt speaks staring at his phone, a gameplay blasting through his speakers. “Will Harvey Guyn find it hot?” 
If you could reach across the table you’d smack him, instead you finish your waffle. “Does he even have a room there, cause fucking on a twin is torture,” you look at your roommate, “unless we put the beds together…” 
Ally raises her hand to cover her mouth while she eats, “I’ll be sleeping with Matty at the house, when I come back Saturday afternoon, and the room is how it was when I left and my sheets are clean… I’ll be none the wiser to what happened.” 
You slide your plate away and reach your fork over the table to steal a banana slice, “I was joking but it’s nice to know you’re so-” you chew and stare at Matt while he rubs at his nose and wipes it on his pants; you look back at Ally and grimace. “-kind.”
“Harvey’s crashing in the chapter room, so unless you like a pull-out couch I recommend staying at yours.” You look at Ally, “what’s the chapter room?” You’ve never heard of it, or seen it. And you’re positive that besides the top floor where the members slept, you’ve been in every room of the house. 
“A secret room that no one but chapter officers are allowed to be in. I’ve seen it but I’ve never been inside. I tried one time and Matt told me to leave.” Eesh, if Matt kicked Ally out that means it’s a cardinal rule. “So even if I wanted to, I couldn’t sleep in there?” 
Matt nods, “correct.” Ally leans into her boyfriend and grabs his elbow, he keeps his focus on his phone while she whispers in his ear. Taking some time to look around the dining hall you recognized a few faces, waving at a girl you shared a few classes with last year. 
When you looked up to the upper level, you locked eyes with Peter. You were being sucked in and couldn’t stop. It was like he was telling you to come closer, come talk to him, like he’s inviting you to his table. The chatter in the room fizzled away, time stood still. It felt like your hearts were in sync, it felt like he was looking into you, it felt like you had a crush. 
It felt stupid to think anyone could come close to him. 
Peter wasn’t looking away, instead analyzing you the same way. He wasn’t sneering, he was curious. You never knew brown eyes could be so captivating, you wonder if he knew how dangerous he was. 
Forced to break away when Ally noticed, “who are we looking at?” You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want anyone to know. You stop her from turning, “I thought I saw someone I went to high school with,” you look back up, Peter disappeared. 
“False alarm.” 
-----
It was just you and Spider-Man in your room. 
His plush body laid across your chest, your arms wrapped tight around had flattened him. You spent your day watching Netflix, but after hours it became boring and you switched to scrolling through your phone, hopping between apps before you ended on instagram. 
You clutched Spider-Man tighter when you hit the search tab, his name popping up first. He never used his main account, three posts from the past two years. You found his burner account, it was set to private. You wanted nothing more than to push that request to follow, but he didn’t know you like that just yet. 
The second you were allowed to follow Peter Parker’s finsta, you’d plow through all one hundred and twelve posts, analyzing each one. You chew your lip for a moment and go to Ally’s page, searching through her followers you see his account, you debate on getting her phone and stalk that way, but it feels like cheating. 
It’s eight pm and you think nothing other than frozen yogurt would stop your obsession, so you grabbed your keycard and left Spider-Man to keep your spot warm. 
You had an early class the next day and a party with three people you could talk to, one of them being someone that would forsure be in your bed. If only Peter would have you in his bed first. If you were being honest, you’d love to see Peter fight for you. 
It’s only slightly exhausting being delusional. 
The food hall was dead and you went from mildly hungry to starving the second you smelled food, detoring for a quick sandwich you stuffed it in your bag before crossing the floor for your sweet treat. A prickle on the back of your neck told you to look to your left, at a table with his brothers, was Peter Parker. 
It felt like a gravitational pull, you manifested him being in your life since last year and it’s finally happening. The next time you and Prince go out you’re pulling him into a psychic’s shop for a reading. You were caught by who you think was Tarrent, if you remember correctly, he hooked up with Natalie your freshman year. 
Blue eyes met yours, just the smallest hint of a smile. It sent you turning your head and stepping behind the bathroom wall for a breather, hiding in embarrassment. You counted to thirty before peeking your head from around the corner, Tarrent kept your secret, no one was looking at you. 
This time, watching yourself, you don’t bump into anyone in line for frozen yogurt. You’d hate for another lesson in spatial awareness, unless it’s coming from Peter, in that case you’d take any kind of conversation. 
Even when he’s berating you he’s pretty. 
Leaving with your cup of dessert you watch Peter walk right by you, hearing his mumbles of a Beastie Boys song. You couldn’t help yourself, a chance at hello. It was an opportunity to have a normal conversation, maybe more of his shining character would come through. Taking a seat at a hightop near the bathrooms you wait until your target comes out. 
Humming at the taste of sugar hitting your tongue you look over to his table, you notice Ethan and you hope he doesn’t notice you too. To put it bluntly, you didn’t want Peter thinking he had competition. You don’t even consider Harvey Guyn as competition, he was just a good fuck. He didn’t get dinner with you or take you on dates, and you didn’t want that. At least not from him. 
Harvey’s conversations were dry and always built around impressing the people around him. He had great successes for someone his age, but daddy’s money didn’t impress you much.
You sit straighter when you hear the bathroom door open, listening to Peter mumble rap a chorus you jumped in, “another girl, another fight.” He jumped slightly, surprised to see you sitting right next to him. Taking another bite you stare in his eyes while you wrap your tongue around the spoon, Peter sounds breathless when he speaks. 
“Hey.” 
“Hello, Peter.” 
The look on his face told you if he didn’t notice you before, he did now. Did you just stand out from the crowd with one word? You think so. Peter clears his throat lightly, “and you are…” he wants you to fill in the blank, you find some joy in being mysterious, even if it’s just for another night. You pluck your spoon from your mouth, a wide smirk paints on your lips. 
“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” It mildly annoyed him and it made your stomach tug, something about his expression made you happy to bother him. Until he called your bluff, you might have planned this one interaction but everywhere else he just seems to notice you. You’ve always had a wandering eye for him but he’s just now catching on. 
Giving him a scouts honor, you promise you haven’t been following him, because you haven’t. It’s that universal pull, each time you’re around him it’s like you’re tasting air while also being breathless. He’s pretty, too pretty for his own good. 
Peter’s tempting even when he’s slightly misogynistic, you think he likes your attitude. If there’s one thing you learned, it’s that a man likes it when he has to do a little chasing. You have an early class and Spider-Man at home. 
Sliding from your seat, your shoes squeak on the linoleum. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” Dare you boldly claim he looked a little disappointed? It seemed like he was. You wish him a goodnight and he returns it, you can’t stop your satisfied smile when you feel him watching you leave. 
Quickly stomping up the stairs you look back at Peter’s table, you escaped with only one person looking back at you. Tarrent shoots you a wink, it wasn’t one that was directed at you, but directed at your actions. He knows nothing of you but you have his support, it makes you curious at best, cautious at worst. You stare at the floor until you reach the door, pushing out and taking in the fresh air. 
It didn’t feel as refreshing as when you were with Peter. You shrug it off, you already had someone waiting back at home. 
Spider-Man’s just as dependent on you as you are him.
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FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH
Morning classes sucked because they were in the morning. Morning classes were awesome because you felt like you focused better, and there was a better student to teacher ratio. Ally whined when your alarm went off, you stood with her in solidarity, because fuck waking up to a slow steady build of music. 
“Sorry, roomie.” 
Her hand poked from a blanket, waving you off from across the room. You weren’t sure if it was in annoyance or understanding. She had another hour before her class and she was planning to crush thirty of those minutes by hitting snooze. 
You moved quickly and quietly, only packing what was needed, and opting for an oversized university hoodie sans your bra. You believed in one thing, casual friday; and you honor it every week. Silently shutting your dorm door you cruise down the hallway, taking in the deep silence and empty scene. 
You weren’t a morning person at all, you preferred to wake up slowly and on your own terms, most times hitting snooze way too many times. But you loved the slow calm of the morning, watching the sun fully rise, hearing birds scream the earth awake, feeling empathy for every person with tired, puffy eyes. 
Morning’s were gentle, and sometimes you really enjoyed gentle. Friday was your creative writing class and you think it’ll be your favorite for the next year. 
Your hypothesis proved true because your professor was the hottest silver fox you’ve ever seen. Every fantasy of being bent over your teachers desk was racing through your mind, you didn’t know how you could ever pay attention. 
When he talks, his words curl around your ears, a stubble buzz in your stomach makes you focus in on his lips, watching them pout around ‘S’s. “Hey,” she was late, but Noa was there. “Hey,” you whisper back. 
Her smirk is devilish, “talk to Trent yet?” It’d be a punishment until you finished your plan, then she’d let it die. It’s something to do with making her efforts worth it, and making you owe her a favor. You almost regret asking her, but the payoff is worth the narcissism. 
Since freshman year, you, Ally, Prince and Natalie made a bet on one person rushing to make it into full recruitment. Sarah joined last year but backed out this year, she’d be too busy in her nursing classes, she made it pretty clear she’d be absent this year. 
When it started everyone pitched in a hundred bucks, Natalie won. Last year everyone pitched in five hundred, Ally won. You love your friends, but it left a sour taste in your mouth that people who didn’t need the extra pocket money won. 
You weren’t lying when you had a summer job, but it was quickly drained with class and book payments. None of your friends had to worry about that. So, when you found out that your high school friend's ex-boyfriend's little brother was rushing for Sigma Nu, a plan formed. 
You upped the stakes this year, big time. Tripling the honey pot by three, fifteen hundred each. That was half of your summer job money, but the payoff was worth the temporary loss. You had an in at the frat and you knew how much the competition games meant, being number one fraternity was the most important thing for Sig Nu, especially after losing it last year to Alpha Delta. 
Next step was getting someone to secure the information, enter Noa. She had cracked into every frat on campus and gotten the files, printed them out and completed the job with a pretty folder. It was Noa’s idea to get dirt on Trent, you commended her for her smarts, she claimed she just really hated him. 
The real plan was making sure your pledge made it in and no other friends won so you wouldn’t have to share the honey pot. It was skeevy and made you feel slightly dirty, but sometimes you have to play in the mud so you can eat dinner for the year. 
As long as no one found out, you’d be okay. Although, deep in your heart you know that while your friends would feel betrayed at first, they’d understand and come around. Mostly because Matt would use some christian wisdom on them and smite them into forgiveness. 
“Tonight.” Noa nods, “you impress me, friend. You really, really do.” You give a nervous smile at your new professor when he calls you out for talking, with his wise smirk, you believe Peter Parker may have some competition. 
—----------------
At fifteen past four, you got the message you’ve been waiting on, you bit your lip and opened the text, the contact saved as Harvey G. 
‘You’re coming to the party tonight, right?’ 
‘Just for you 😊’ 
‘I love when you lie to me, it really gets me going.’ 
‘You know what gets me going? Fucking you on a twin XL.’ 
‘Dirty talk, that’s my girl.’ 
‘Wear something pretty for me and I’ll let you call me daddy tonight.’ 
‘You wish.’ 
You’d be wearing something pretty tonight, but not for Harvey. You were dressing up for the pure intention of catching Peter Parker’s eye. It was a personal mission to turn you from a backup plan to number one, worse comes to worse, you’d pull out the best friend card and use Ethan as a pawn. Harvey was a set hookup, you didn’t need to impress him with anything. You’ve never even slept in the same bed, and you didn’t care to. He looked like a snorer. 
Sending a quick text to Ally to try and figure out the game plan, she responds with a very general answer, so you text Prince to come over and entertain you. He responded with a salute emoji, ‘prepare to be entertained.’ 
—--------
You and Prince are tilting your head at the same angle, you’re trying to make sense of what you were seeing but the proportions weren’t adding up. It didn’t seem natural, you block out the exaggerated moaning and follow in tilting your head the opposite way when the camera switches positions. 
“I mean… that couldn’t… feel good… right?” Prince is looking for your opinion, you nod with him. “Yeah, I don’t… this can’t be real, right?” It’s like you've been heard, the camera angle changes and you’re staring at a man’s asshole as he piledrives into his female co-star. Prince gasps with you, “oh my god! How is she doing that?!” You whistle low, “drugs, Prince. Lots and lots of drugs.” Suddenly, Prince becomes interested. 
“You know, sometimes I forget how much the female body amazes me.” You narrow your eyes, “call me a female again, I dare you.” Prince’s voice squeaks, “no thank you, you powerful, beautiful woman.” You pat his green hair, “good boy.” 
For once, Ally entered into your dorm without Matt following behind. Prince clapped and told her he was proud she could walk inside all by herself. Her response was, “aw, you’re so cute when you’re lonely.” Prince pretended to bite her.
“So,” Ally opened her tote bag and pulled out a paper bag filled with Sammi’s Sandwiches. “Wanna eat and get ready?” Prince starts bowing, you follow suit.
 “All hail queen Ally.” 
“Damn right, bitches.” 
The second you took your last bite Ally had you in front of your closet mirror while she stood behind you with two shirts on hangers, alternating to hold up each one over your torso. 
“Ugh, I wanted you in the green but I think the black would be better.” “Yeah, I think if I hang around Prince it’ll be too much green, ya know?” Prince coughed and breadcrumbs spewed. “I’m sorry, you think you’ll be hanging out with me instead of Harvey?” 
“I can’t exactly go in there, grab him, and get out, can I?” Your roommate nods while she fixes your hair, “you absolutely can, I do it with Matty all the time.” You roll your eyes at her in the mirror, “that’s different, you guys are like… common law married at this point.” 
Prince is sitting sideways in a chair letting the blood rush to his head, he sits up slightly and slips out a possibility while you adjust your bra strap. “What are the chances Harvey gets so plastered tonight you won’t hookup?” 
The elastic snaps on your shoulder when you give him a cold glare, “don’t even try to be funny.” He grins wickedly and presses his thumbs to his middle fingers, “not funny, babe. Manifesting.” 
Ally has to hold you back when you lurch at him. 
—--------------
You’re lucky you have Prince to keep Ally occupied, you’re a little too lost in your thoughts as you all walk towards frat row. Keeping your arms to your chest you conserve heat, it’s starting to get chilly at night. The first thing you wanted to do was get Trent out of the way, then you’d chat with Ethan while you scope the scene for Peter. Oh god, Harvey. You had too many men to entertain tonight, it would be near impossible to keep them from bumping into each other outside your revolving door. 
You just had to play calm and make a game plan. Number one would be Trent, number two would be Harvey, so you could make plans for after the party, number three would be Ethan and certainly not least, you’d be keeping an eye on Peter Parker. Your palms feel clammy thinking about your secret with Trent, you push each plan back by one. The first step would be getting some liquid courage. Brought back to life by gentle bantering, your opinion is needed. 
“I could totally ice Matt out, right?” 
“Bro, I have two hundred on it right now.” 
“You think I can’t live without him?” You butt in, “no, but you can’t let him think you’re mad at him. Even when you’re fighting you tell him you’re not mad at him. It’s gross.” Prince nods while Ally gasps in offense, “I’d love to see it, I think he’d have a mental breakdown.” 
“Is it so terrible of me that I don’t like making my boyfriend sad?” 
You hang an arm around Ally’s neck and pull her in, “it makes you a better girlfriend than I could ever be.” She giggles and hangs onto you, “I think frat boys like that, maybe it’s time you start sleeping with a member and not alumni.” 
You’re not hiding anything out of spite, but because you felt like you wanted to figure it out on your own. And she’s a little pushy, if you were to spill on Peter before ready she’d try everything possible to get Matt involved. Sometimes Ally’s wingmanning ruined potential hookups, and by sometimes, it’s every time. “Ha. Good one.” 
Prince steps in to hand his arm around your neck, you three of you stumbling in unison. “Don’t worry, friend. You’ll have your pick on the ski trip.” You flashed a smile, following a crowd of bodies across the crosswalk.
Letting each other go when you hit the first frat house you fix your shirt. Ally was right, it looked really good on you.
There were at least forty kids waiting to get in, only two members on door duty. Following freshmen up the steps you smile at a brother, Prince pays his entrance fee while you hold hands with Ally. 
You take a deep breath, and release it when you step in the house.
Welcome to the start of the year.
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spidernuggets · 1 month
Note
I was listening to Matilda by Harry Styles and...
Can I ask something about the reader living in a toxic environment or having a toxic family but seeing it as normal, until she meets Jason and he makes her see that it's actually not normal?
Only if you feel comfortable writing it tho 🥲💗
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Note: I LOVEEE this request. It gives me the opportunity to show the little things in a toxic environment/family that are DEF mentally unhealthy, but it can be played off as, idk the word, normal, or not a big deal.
Reader's back story: Reader grew up with a family where there's always a lot of petty disagreements but always leads to being yelled at. Reader was also raised to respect others, but hypocritically, her parents don't show that same level. So when they yell at her, she doesn't say anything back, she doesn't talk back or defend herself etc etc. But the day after, her parents "apologise", Reader accepts, but the apology means fuck all because her parents always makes the same mistakes and the cycle continues.
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"Fucking hell! Can you just fucking leave me alone!" Jason yells after climbing through the fire escape. He just came back after a rough mission and is in no mood.
You ran up to him, trying to give him a hug, and at first, he lightly pushed you away, but poor you didn't get the memo and tried to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek.
Jason really didn't mean to lash out on you. During the mission, he got scolded by Dick and got punched across the jaw by Bruce. He also failed the mission anyway. And honestly, all that time wasted when he could've been in your arms instead pissed him off more.
But now that he's here with you, he doesn't seem like he's in the mood to be held by you. He just wants everything to be quiet. Except, now he's the one being loud.
"I'm sorry, Jay, I just-"
"Y/n, please, just shut up for five minutes because I don't think my head can last another second with you!" He storms away, taking an extra pillow and blanket and goes to sleep on the couch. You let him leave, knowing he'll be better in the morning.
This was the first time Jason had raised his voice to you. But it was fine.
You woke up to the feel on fingers running through your hair and light, damp kisses on your nose. You twist and turned and groaned at the feeling, wishing for more sleep.
"Wake up, sweet thing. Please?" You heard a deep, raspy voice ask.
You barely opened your eyes but made out the figure in front of you. Jason was on his knees, kneeling beside your bed with roses and your favourite candies in his hand.
"Mm.. Jay?" You groaned once more, trying to sit up while rubbing your eyes open. "Special occasion?" You groggily asked.
Jason looks at you slightly confused. "What? No.. no, I just wanted to say I'm.. I'm sorry. I acted like an asshole last night, a major asshole. Scream at me, hit me, do whatever. Please, please forgive me," he whines, looking down while presenting the gifts to you. He tenses up as you stay silent. When he looks up, your head is tilted, accompanied by a questioning look on your face. "And.. And I told Bruce that I'm taking the week off. I'll take you out on dates, wherever you want to go, I'll buy you everything you want." At this point, he'd give his soul to Trigon just for you to forgive him.
Slowly, you take the candies and roses from him. "That's really sweet, Jay.. but.. why?" Now it was Jason's turn to look at you in confusion and disbelief.
"What- What do you mean why? I was a bastard last night! I told you to shut up, I told you to leave me akone! I left you alone in bed last night!" In all realness, the moment Jason sat on the couch, he thought you indirectly broke up with him and left. He didn't expect you to be in bed. So he ran to the closest ooen shop and bought you all your favourite candies.
"Oh..." You pondered, looking at the pretty petals in your hands. "It's okay, Jay. Don't worry about it, it's fine," you smiled.
Jason frowned. You were smiling. Genuinely smiling at him. As if nothing happened. As if what he did wasn't wrong. "What? It's not- It's not fine. How can you say that?"
"Well, you're sorry, yeah? So everything is good," you try to hold your hand in his, but the contact made him flinch. It's like Jason is getting angry for you.
"No. No, everything's NOT good. Why are you acted as if I didn't just fully disrespect you last night? Why are you acting as if nothing happened? What if I yell at you like that again, huh? It wouldn't be fine!" Jason doesn't understand why you think everything is fine.
"I mean.. If you say sorry, then you're sorry," you shortly explain.
"Were you always like this?" He quietly asks, holding your hands, caressing them with his thumbs. "A lot of the times, sorry isn't enough. Why- Why do you forgive so easily?" There's a plead in Jason's eyes. Through his life, he's always done so much wrong. He always lost people. Forgiveness was a foreign thing to him. But the fact that you gave no second thought into forgiving him had him worried.
You look down in such shame. You don't really know. But then you think back to when you were a kid. Back to when you reached out to pour some juice in your cup, but then you knocked over your dad's glass of water, and it smashed all over the ground.
You were eight. You were eight when your dad started yelling at you, asking why you were incompetent. You were crying and didn't hear your dad saying you had nothing to cry over.
Later in the night, your mom went to you, telling you your dad had a rough night, and he didn't mean to take it out on you. Then your dad walked in, kneeled, and said he was sorry. He said he'd never say anything like that to you ever again. And you forgave him. Because you were eight, and you believed that he was sorry.
To this day, you still weren't sure if he was sorry. Because he always noticed the small mistakes you made and lash out on you. Your mom did this, too. But the two of them always crawled back, asking for forgiveness, telling you they didn't mean it, promising it would never happen again.
The one time you tried to defend yourself, it just ticked them off even more. So, every time they raised their voices, your own stayed silent. You'd just wait for them to take out their harsh emotions on you, and you'd just wait for them with their routine of apologies, you'd just wait for the next time they gave out to you.
Maybe you're projecting this method onto Jason. You already knew how much of a hot head he is. But you still don't know. His apology seemed more alive than your parents'.
But, still. It was the same. 'I'll never do it again.' 'I'm sorry.'
The difference was.. was Jason WANTED you to be angry with him. Maybe that's what was missing. A chance to secure yourself. A chance to fight back. A chance to respect yourself.
"I don't know.." You whisper, too tired to lift your head to look at him.
"Hey.." He gently calls out, his finger under your chin, tilting your head up. "I'm not saying forgiveness is a bad thing. But you need to be angry about certain things. About me. Not everything is sunshine and rainbows. Just because someone says they're sorry, it doesn't mean they actually are. Except for me. I'm so, so sorry. Like, if I were you right now, I'd probably dump my ass." His last statement made you giggle ever so slightly.
"There's my girl," he says, one of his hands reaching up to hold her cheek, squishing it gently. "Next time I make a dick move, be angry. Yell at me, hit me. Threaten to dump me. That'll definitely make me feel real sorry." He smiles.
You let out a chuckle, turning your face to kiss the rough palm of his hand. "Okay," you mumbke through his hold.
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Are my fics getting shorter and shorter each time? That's my worst fear.
ANYWAYS, I genuinely hope this problem makes sense!!! It's light, but as I said, it's unhealthy!!
Very very very very much hope that you've enjoyed, Anon 🙏🙏
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rockingrobin69 · 9 months
Text
Want
Malfoy did this thing where he only used a finger and a thumb for crisps. He’d wade through mud without a second thought to retrieve Scorp’s ball from the hissing nettles, he put his arm up to the elbow in cold spaghetti sauce on a dare, he rolled down not one but three different hills with Teddy on their hikes, but when it came to crisps, he was his perfect lordly self. A finger and a thumb going in neat motions, barely even crinkling the bag. A dignified amount of crisps pinched tightly, brought slowly into his mouth. So careful and clean and entirely unintentional. He didn’t even know he was doing it.
Harry did.
Harry noticed everything about him. Hard not to when Malfoy was like this, weird and loud and awkward, pathetic and incredible and everywhere. When Teddy adopted him and Scorp (officially, with a letter he’d hand-written, signed with a drawing of, randomly, a horse); when they moved in, and Malfoy’s pyjamas became a recurring vision, llamas and tiny buttons following even in his dreams; when he found the stray cat, named her Nibbles for no earthly reason; when he was a menace, and Harry adored it. Him. Adored—the whole thing, how their lives suddenly became this, tight and uncomfortable and too warm and perfect.
Teddy was no help. He practically had love-hearts for eyes whenever Malfoy walked in the room. All these ‘Draco, look!’ and ‘Draco, can you—’ and ‘Draco, Draco, come sit next to me!’ that drove Harry spare. And Scorp was such a tiny little thing in all his Molly-made-jumpers, babbling with a look of utter importance and following Teddy around, and cackling with joy whenever he was in Malfoy’s arms. And the cat, fucking, cat, always getting kisses and—
No, Harry wasn’t jealous, that wasn’t quite it. He was… overwhelmed with how gentle it all was. Never really imagined life could be like this, didn’t think he’d want it. Discovered he did with such terrifying intensity, that he yearned for something that wasn’t quite nameable, that he somehow almost had. It kept him up at nights and filled his days with this weird, feverish joy. It was soft and itchy and all his. Almost his. So fucking close to being his.
And Malfoy was right there, sitting across from Harry with his ankle on one knee and the bag of fucking crisps and the way he was eating them, almost—decadently, and utterly, helplessly serious. On the rug, Harry realised he probably loved him.
Stretched, leaned slightly to his side until he was touching Malfoy’s knee. “Hey,” he said, swallowed.
“Hi.” Malfoy offered him the bag. “Want some?”
“You eat crisps funny,” Harry said for an answer. “All cleanly and stuff. It’s funny.”
“Oh. Well. Always happy to amuse you.”
He was so ridiculous, with the little stickers he let Ted and Scorp stick on his socks, on the sliver of his leg that was visible. It would hurt like hell to rip these out, all the fine blond hair caught underneath. Harry couldn’t breathe for a moment, it struck him so hard.
It was the middle of August and a really cold day. All the lights in the living room made it look like… something Harry wanted so badly. Instead of trying to make it into words, he leaned his head against Malfoy. Allowed the fingers threading through his hair. The movement so, so gentle.
“I’m picking Ted early from school tomorrow,” Malfoy announced some time later, in this awful voice he used for Scorp, or when Teddy had a nightmare. “He hates the dentist, so I promised to take him on a walk after. Maybe the hill where we went last month, the one with the waterfall.”
Harry hummed something delighted and heartbroken. Buried his face in Malfoy’s thigh, surrendered to the feeling of his hands, of his warmth.
“Harry… I meant, do you want to come with us? Sorry. That’s not—wasn’t quite clear.”
Buried his face tighter.
“Or—maybe we can go another day? Just us. You and me, I mean. There’s this place I think you would like. If you absolutely insisted, we could take Nibbles along on her lead.”
Brought his head up, pouted at Malfoy’s pretty face. “No, that’s…” stopped when he noticed the smile. When he realised that this thing that he wanted was already his. Pressed a tiny kiss to Malfoy’s shin, to a sticker of a star on his hairy leg. “You are,” Harry said, and meant it from the bottom of his heart. Breathed, breathed. Sat there and grinned to himself.
The bag of crisps crinkled. The afternoon went on, lit and weirdly warm. It was the life Harry didn’t know he wanted, that he ached for, that he had.
(If you enjoyed this, I've recently shared the first part of Wonderful on AO3. Consider checking it out for your pining needs).
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asterias-record-shop · 11 months
Note
Wedding night And #8 for Andrew Garfield?
—𓆩[we go down together]𓆪—
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩[your wedding song ♡]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Husband! Andrew Garfield x Wife! Fem! Pregnant! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - pure fluff and smut
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.5K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Andrew promised you that he would make sure your wedding was perfect. He didn’t care how much it cost, where it would be, who was invited, as long as he was marrying you. Even then though, as much as he wanted to stick by the rules and not see you on the special day, he sneaks a peak and sees a small little surprise you had just for him.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || I gave you best friends with names inspired by Harry Potter cuz my sister was watching it- || Michaela Jaé Rodriguez and Florence Pugh are now your best friend cuz they’re amazing || I didn’t put the actual wedding ceremony cuz it would’ve taken too long sorry with love 🤍 || I chose a wedding song for you || public oral || public sex || fingering || unprotected sex || creampie || breeding kink || multiple orgasms || pregnant sex || daddy kink || lactation kink || pregnancy kink || this is pure filthy smut I’m so sorry I got carried away- ||
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“So, are you going to kick me out now?” Andrew whispered to you, his hands teasing at your hips in an attempt to persuade you into letting him stay the whole night. He thought the superstition was stupid, and to you as well, but your best friends were insisting on it.
Besides, you had a little gift for Andrew you didn’t want him seeing, so it worked out.
You hummed, letting your fingers trail down his bare chest. It was tempting, him and his perfect accent, but no. This was being done for the right reason. “Not yet. You still have a few minutes.”
Andrew sends you his signature lopsided grin. “I can do a lot in a few minutes.”
You couldn’t help but giggle as he leaned forward, kissing you softly with a firm press of his lips. “I know you can baby… I know.”
He grins, raising a brow. “So I can-?”
“It’s 11:55, Andrew, get out!” Your best friend rushed in, grabbing him from the bed and basically dragging him out.
“What the hell are you doing?!” You yelled, sitting up as they paused.
“He can’t see you on your wedding day!” They then proceeded to drag him out, a loud laugh escaping his lips.
“I love you, my sweet girl!”
“I love you too, Andrew!”
The next morning, Andrew knew he wasn’t supposed to see the gift you gave your best friend, a bright blue bag that he had seen around the house but never looked inside because you were yelling exclusively at him not to.
“Look! Isn’t it so cute, I got it custom made,” you pulled out a tiny piece of cloth that he couldn’t see, but it wasn’t like he was trying to whenever he was staring at the beautiful wedding dress you had on. “He’s going to love it, right?”
Maybe it was lingerie, oh he’d love any lingerie you’d put on. It didn’t make sense though, you’d have the lingerie on, underneath that beautiful wedding dress that would’ve had ancestors turning in their graves.
The white fabric was tight on your body, lace overlapping the skin toned fabric that matched yours perfectly to make it seem like the white lace and the intricate beadings and pearls and small white and clear crystals that made it seem like it was dancing on your skin. He inhaled deeply as you turned around, makeup perfect and that perfect white gold ring that had the large diamond created into it made a deep sigh leave his lips, his eyes already watering.
Oh, how could you look so beautiful? You were showing skin and your beautiful form that he had praised for years, mumbling words against your body about how perfect you were.
Fuck, he couldn’t stop staring.
“Andrew!” Your friend saw him still dressed in some sweatpants and a t-shirt, still designer of course, but he still wasn’t dressed in the suit he picked out. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving, I’m sorry!” He wiped his eyes quickly as you gasped when Hermione covered your body with her own.
“Get out!” Michaela yells, laughing when she almost trips. “Go!”
Andrew groans dramatically as he walks away, holding back a smile when the door slammed shut. He could hear your laugh, making Andrew look back until Jamie and Charlie walked out.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Jaime was laughing, his tux tight in his body. “Sneaking into her room, naughty Andrew, aren’t you?”
“She has a present for me,” he grinned, looking over at Charlie. “And I’m going to enjoy it so much.”
After the official wedding, it was time for the grand entrance. For your something old, new, borrowed, and blue, there were a lot of things your bridesmaids gave you, but one of your families gave you the chance to get married where they did as their something ‘borrowed’.
The reception was adults only, especially with everyone else being adults and the fact you and Andrew were always pretty physical. For something new, Florence gave you diamond ear cuffs to accentuate your new diamond and sapphire earrings Michaela had given you for something blue. For something old, Andrew’s mother gave you a diamond and white gold tennis bracelet that had been in their family.
“You ready to go inside, baby? It’s our grand entrance,” Andrew pulled away from your lips, his fingers digging into your hips. His lips were swollen, thankfully un-smeared of lipstick because of the makeup artist Andrew got to make sure you looked absolutely perfect. “And they’ve been waiting for like half an hour because I couldn’t get this dress off for a quickie.”
You only giggle, humming softly with a shrug. “They’ve waited this long, they can wait a few more minutes. You just… your mouth is just perfect.”
He grinned. “Oh, is it? Let me see, show me,” he leaned back on the wall, pushing himself into a wall sit position to lean his head back so that you were taller than him. He opened his mouth wide, watching as you leaned down to lick against his tongue, his hands pulling you closer between his legs. You tilt your head, pulling him closer as you tug his head farther up, desperate to taste him more.
He tasted like mint, fresh and cold as you exhaled into his mouth and stroked his hair. You sucked even harder, groaning before a loud scream made you pull back.
“Y/N, Andrew, get your butts inside!” Florence yelled, her accent filling the room as you laughed.
“We’re coming!”
“I hope not!” Michaela yelled, peeking out from inside the main building. “Come on, let’s go!”
Andrew stood up straight, fixing his white suit as you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door. You both slowly walked in, cheers and laughter and music filling your ears as Andrew looked over at you while pulling you to the middle of the dance floor. Your song started playing, that perfect, perfect song. You had started listening to it randomly, and whenever Andrew heard it, you both agreed that it would be a perfect wedding song.
We Go Down Together by Khalid and Dove Cameron fit the two of you. Sometimes you did fight and fall, there were nights filled with sobbing, but as soon as you both saw each other and were pulled into the other's arms; everything went quiet. It went still, soft, the only thing filling the night was each other.
“I’m always going to be here for you, Andrew,” you whisper, stroking the back of his head. “Always and forever. I will be with you forever.”
Andrew inhaled deeply, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “I love you, Y/N. Forever and always. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Right at the end, there was one last thing that you both had to do. The taking off the garter, it was time.
You sat down in the large cushioned chair that made you feel like a queen, your dress that went out at the waist hiked up as everyone around you both cheered. It was hot, extremely hot temperature wise you were surprised your makeup wasn’t dripping down your face, but it was good.
Andrew must have been hot too, his blazer already off and the tie around his neck gone and the top few buttons already unbuttoned. His face was shiny, sheening with sweat as he kneeled down in front of you, unbuttoning his shirt even lower making everyone cheer. He goes under the poofy skirt of your dress, his tongue shamelessly dragging along your thigh as his hands hold your knees apart and a loud squeal leaves your mouth. Everyone cheers, but your mind was focused on his mouth as he licked against your bare cunt exposed by your lingerie, sucking and rubbing his fingers against your slit. Your hands rush to hold his head through your dress, an uncontrollable giggle leaving your lips as he slides a finger inside of your cunt, easily because he was definitely fingering you earlier in the hall.
It doesn’t change the feeling though, his middle finger thrusting into you knuckle deep and his thumb rubbing around your entrance. Teasing around your entrance with his thumb as his teeth graze down your thigh, teasing the lace and chiffon garter. You hold back a whimper and a moan as he slowly takes a hold of it, pulling out his sticky fingers as he gets down to your ankle, slipping the garter off around your heel before coming out from under your skirt with the garter between his teeth.
Oh you truly couldn’t wait for tonight.
When you and Andrew got home, he was carrying you bridal style like he always wanted to. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, laughing as he kicked the door shut and quickly set the alarm before moving to the stairs. “Andrew. Andrew, baby please, I need you, I need you so bad.”
You had been desperate ever since he finger fucked you while taking off your garter, sneaking away to finish it off while everyone was dancing to fuck you with his long digits in the hallway, effectively making you come undone around his fingers while you begged for more.
He laughed, pressing kisses to your neck as he finally made it up, going straight to your shared room’s closed door. “You need me, love? Yeah? I swear to fucking god I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk straight for the rest of the year baby. I’ll fuck you so much you’ll never forget this night, fill you up with so much cum that you’ll be pregnant by the end of the night.”
You gasped, making him pause after he opened the door, raising a brow. “Y/N, baby, everything alright?”
You looked back inside the room, smiling when you saw the baby blue bag. “Take me inside!” He quickly does as you say, setting you down as you quickly run to the bag, your bare feet padding along the cold wood floor. “Open it!”
“Baby, is everything alright? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just open it!”
He sighs as he slowly sits down on the bed, your hands already undoing the back of your dress and slipping it off easily because Andrew had untied the main knot earlier. You kneeled in front of him, the only thing covering your body was the lingerie that you had underneath your wedding dress. The sight alone made him get distracted, your eyes wide and waiting for him to open the bag that he had seen earlier, face bare of makeup that you had taken off before you both left the venue.
“Andrew!” You whined, a pout on your swollen lips. “Open it!”
“R-Right,” he looks down at the bag, inhaling deeply as he takes out the tissue paper and you giggle. He slowly takes out the fabric, your face falling when he looks at you confused. “What is it?”
“It’s a onesie, Andrew!” You groaned. “Turn it around!”
He did, jaw falling slack when he saw the blue texts underneath the graphic of a swaddled baby, ‘YOU’RE GOING TO BE A DADDY!’
You start to worry when he doesn’t speak, quickly peeking over the onesie to see his eyes red and bloodshot, tears falling down his cheeks. “Oh, Andrew!”
“I’m going to be a dad?” His voice was broken, hoarse as you quickly jumped into his chest, hugging him. “Oh my fucking god, I’m going to be a dad. I’m going to be a daddy, baby, you’re making me a daddy.”
You smiled widely, tears of relief filling your eyes as you slowly pulled the onesie from his grip and pulled him down to press a kiss to your lips. You groaned loudly as his hands quickly hold your hips, pulling you off of the ground as he stood and turned around, easily laying you on the bed before crawling over your body.
His lips trail over your skin, sucking and biting to leave hickies all over your perfect skin. He groaned loudly as your legs spread automatically for him, sitting back to quickly undo his belt and unbutton his pants, fumbling to slip them off making you giggle. He succeeds after a few minutes, ducking back down to kiss against your tits.
“To think these pretty tits are going to be filled with milk for me soon,” he murmured against your nipples, cupping and squeezing at them making your nipples quickly go hard and your back arch. You whined as he sucked on your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as he stared up at you. “You’re going to be a perfect mommy for our babies, darling, but I think as soon as I taste your milk, I’m gonna keep wanting more.”
You whined as his other hand squeezed at your nipple, flicking with his thumb as he continued to suck and abuse the other, groaning. “Dr-Drew, you’re going to be a perfect daddy, you’re going to be the best daddy ever.”
He groans against your tit, lapping against your perky bud with a wink. “Do you think so, baby? I swear, I’m going to love seeing you round with my baby and tits full of milk. Swear, I’m going to be hard all the fucking time seeing you pregnant with my baby. Think I’m going to like seeing you pregnant.”
You whined loudly, hips bucking as your eyes rolled back when he moved to the other tit. “Andrew, Andrew please!”
“Ah ah baby, I’m a daddy now,” he grinned at you, teasing you. “Think you should call me that now.”
This wasn’t something that happened often, but how could you refuse when he looked so fucking proud of himself? “D-Daddy, daddy please. Please, need you to fuck me. Need to be full of your cum, need to feel your cock inside of me.”
He groaned loudly, leaning up to press his mouth to yours, his tongue swirling around your own. It wasn’t even a kiss, his tongue swirling and shoving down your throat as he guided his cock in between your legs, pushing inside of you and swallowing the loud moan that left your mouth.
“Fucking hell, you feel so fucking good, I swear,” he basically growled against your lips, gasping as your nails dragged down his back. “Maybe it’s because you’re growing my child? Could that be it? You’re making me a daddy, gonna be the perfect fucking mother for our children?”
You nodded, mind blurry as you tried to focus on his voice, but the only thing you could think about was his dick. He was slow at first, his cock not foreign inside of you, but the faster his thrusts got, the more you couldn’t focus. “Yes!” You yelled out, the only thing you could even think about. Yes, I’ll be the perfect mother. Yes, I’ll raise your children, yes, yes, yes.
“Swear baby, if it’s going to make you like this, I’m going to keep you pregnant all the fucking time,” he groans, hips moving faster as your head tilted back, mouth lulled open and moans falling out, but your face was so fucked out it looked like you weren’t thinking of anything else but his cock, not even the words coming out of his mouth. “Look at you, baby. I love you darling, I do, but I fucking love when you get all cock obsessed for me. Are you cock obsessed, baby, dick drunk? Hm?”
Your head lulls, nodding as your nails dig into his shoulders, another orgasm close as you speak. “Yes. Yes, daddy, I’ll be pregnant all the time for you! I’ll stay here, ready to get fucked and bred, pumped full of cum to give you babies!”
It was words fully fueled of lust, the smell of sex in the air and the sounds of skin against skin slapping together echoing off the walls fueling both of your fucked out states. It was fully possible you didn’t even know what you were saying, only thinking about his cock, as you were successful all in your own, but there was the chance where you did know what you were talking about and you would sit here pumping babies out for him every nine months just for him to get you pregnant again and again as soon as you’re cleared.
The thought truly did sound fucking amazing. You both knew damn well he could provide for both of you and all of your children, no matter how many you both chose to have.
“Oh yeah, baby? You gonna be a good fucking cumslut, gonna be bred over and over again? Huh? Gonna keep you fucking pregnant, all while you be the perfect fucking mother for each and every one of our spoiled little brats that are going to fucking praise you like a goddess. Gonna fuck you over and over again, not gonna let any drop of cum spill out, keep all of my sperm inside of you so you can get pregnant over and over. You like that? Do you like the thought of having babies over and over again for me?”
His words easily tipped you over the edge, his cock ramming into you over and over again, fucking you like a fleshlight and using your abused hole to please you. The only thought in your mind was the unrealistic image of cum, his cum, spurting out of your cunt, tummy bulging like you were nine months pregnant just from his sperm and tits leaking breast milk that he would devour every minute of the day if he could.
Even if it was unrealistic, he would make it happen if you asked him to.
“Baby, you already came, you squirted all over my cock. What’s going on in that little fucked out brain of yours, hm? Tell me, it better not be the thought of anything other than my cock,” he grunted as he slammed his hips back into you, his hand pushing between the both of you to rub circles against your puffy clit. His other hand grabbed your chin, wiping the drool running down your chin as he forced you to look at him. “Hey baby, I’m right here. Look at me and tell me what you’re thinking about, tell your daddy what you’re thinking about as his cock fucks you so hard and his cum fills you up. Tell me!”
You screamed out, a broken noise leaving your lips as his thrusts get rougher, harder, his fists squeezing at your tits. “I want to stay pregnant for you, daddy! Want to be leaking with your cum every day, want milk to be inside my titles and for you to drink it every day, don’t care how many babies we have as long as you fuck me and fill me and get me pregnant! Want your babies, daddy, want all your cum!”
He lets out a loud, guttural groan into your neck, his hips faltering as he came inside of you, gasping for air as you pant above him. His hands shakily hold your hips, his lips turning soft against your skin as he rolled his hips gently, your hands stroking his back. You finally came down from your high, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his temple.
“I think… two kids is good.”
“Just two? Thought you wanted more,” he teased at first making you giggle, but he smiled gently at you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “We can have as many as you want. I don’t care, as long as you’re their mother. You will be the best fucking momma, baby, the best mommy to those kids ever.”
You inhaled shakily, smiling up at him with tears running down your cheeks as you leaned up just enough to press a soft kiss to his lips. “And you’re going to be the best daddy. I promise.”
He smiled. “We’ll make amazing parents.”
“We will, Drew. Amazing fucking parents.”
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© asterias-record-shop
509 notes · View notes
pleasingforharry · 1 year
Text
Take the Hint, Boss
SUMMARY: Her boss really likes her. She’s not so sure about it. Maybe she wants him to stop, maybe she doesn’t. She wishes she knew. 
WORD COUNT: 3.2k
WARNINGS: None.
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help this idea just randomly popped in my head
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ass-boss: Dinner with me tonight. Okay?
me: no
ass-boss: Yes.
me: youre my boss. dont be stupid
ass-boss: Don't be difficult, woman.
me: im going out
ass-boss: You don't go out.
me: ever since you put your number in my phone and text me to have dinner with you, i do
He typed up a response, but I didn’t look, stuffing my phone in my clutch. For the sake of both of us, I ignored it. He simply didn’t get it.
Stacey and Gia wouldn't stop texting me throughout the week. The only reason I went out with them instead of staying at the office to work—like I direly needed to do right now—was because they would've just dragged me by the ear themselves.
"Y/N, you work too damn much. It's hurtful, and quite exhausting to watch you burn yourself to the ground," Stacey said sincerely on the ride there. We took an Uber because, apparently, we were all getting shitface drunk tonight. Exciting. "I should have a word with your boss. He's the reason you're only getting like four hours of sleep."
"It isn't his fault, Stace. I have control over how much work I do. If I wanted to, I could easily split it with someone else."
Gia, on my other side, cut in. "Yeah, but you're a perfectionist and won't share."
"Sue me?" I laughed with exasperation. Gia rolled her eyes, her purple eyeshadow glossy from the neon lights shooting by us.
My hair was out, traveling down my back, as Stacey twirled a strand around her finger. "No more talks about work tonight. Okay, girls?" The question was directed to me, but Gia still answered with a loud cheer. The driver glanced at us through the rear-view mirror. I waved apologetically.
My phone pinged again. Fuck, Harry. What the hell? Doesn’t he have to work to do himself? He’s literally the CEO, he’s always busy.
Gia gave me a sideway glance, before smirking. Stacey caught on and laughed theatrically. "Go on, answer him." I huffed and took my phone out of my clutch.
ass-boss: Where are you going out tonight?
me: with friends
ass-boss: Wasn't my question, Y/N.
me: bar
ass-boss: Where?
me: stop.
ass-boss: Answer me.
My phone flipped on its back as I sighed.
"That was hot," Stacey whispered.
"What was?"
Gia spoke first. "It's like a front row view of an enemies to lovers."
"Of course, you would think that," I teased, poking her breast. She bit her lip at me. "It's so entertaining to watch my boss annoy me about my whereabouts when I've made it clear that I don't want to do anything with him."
"It's just dinner," she shrugged.
Stacey leaned forward so we could both see her. “Just make it known that nothing will happen.”
"Yeah, last time it was 'just dinner' because I wasn’t going to let something happen, we ended up having sex.” I cringed at my moment of weakness. “I don't want to mislead him into thinking it'll happen again." I looked down at my phone as it lit up from another text.
ass-boss: When you're ready to go home, you call me. I'll pick you up.
"He's so protective. My boss doesn’t give two shits about me. I hate you," Gia scoffed, flicking my temple.
"He just paranoid that I'll go home with another guy," I corrected her with an annoyed wave.
me: no. dont you have work to do?
ass-boss: I have a dinner to attend to. But my date is being stubborn.
All of a sudden, my phone was snatched away. "Hey!" Gia started texting Harry back.
me: its Y/N's bff. we're gonna out to have a bunch of fun and it would be lovely if you left her alone for the night. thanks babe!
She held the power button down to shut my phone off. "There," she said as she handed it back to me. "It's gonna be an amazing night, okay? No more boss or thoughts about work." I smiled warmly.
"Thank you, G." She leaned in to kiss my cheek, but then quickly wiped it away as her gloss attached.
-
We finally arrived at the club and stumbled out of the car. I had to yank my dress at the hem while also stuffing my breasts back into my push-up bra.
The outfit I wore wasn't picked by me. No, Stacey and Gia completely raided my closet, searching through every corner for the most scandalous dress. I didn’t even remember buying it. But then I remembered, they did.
My heels were high, making me the tallest out of us three. Both girls held an arm of mine as we walked inside. The bouncer nodded his head at us, and Gia cooed with a seductive wave.
"We didn't even get inside. How are you already flirting with guys?" I snorted. She only shrugged.
"It's in my blood." Stacey laughed loudly in agreement.
We managed to push our way to our first spot; the bar. It was in the center of the club, a wide circular counter that seated many. We found three vacant stools and literally hopped on top of them.
The bartender slid over to us with a friendly smile. "Hello, ladies. Welcome. What can I get you started with?" I intended to get a light drink in order to pace myself. Stacey and Gia wanted to get three day hangover drunk, but I had work to do early tomorrow.
Before I could even speak, a hand slapped over my mouth. Stacey placed a long order of drinks, and the bartender nodded and winked at me before stalking away. When Stacey removed her hand from me, I gave her a bored look.
"Are you serious?" I scoffed, pinching her arm. They both laughed and ignored my rhetorical question as they fell into a conversation. I rolled around in my stool to face the club, listening to both my friends and my daydreaming monologue.
I had so much work to catch up on when I got home. If I even got home today. It might be tomorrow. The thought caused my shoulders to tense.
Fuck. Maybe I do need a drink.
-
We've been at the club for at least three hours. Neither Stacey or Gia planned to sneak away with a guy as many approached them for a drink and dance. They promised to stay by my side. But I knew it was only because as soon as I was out of their sight, I'd run home.
Gia walked backwards, holding my hands while Stacey held my shoulders, and the two of them led me to the dance floor. "How are you feeling, babe?" Stacey tugged my shoulders down so she could reach my ear. Her movements were a little rougher than she intended as the drinks added some strength to her.
"Better," I responded.
"Not good enough. I want you to feel amazing and free!" She cheered as we found a spot big enough for all of us to move. We stood in a circle, facing each other, and joining in with everyone as they danced to the music. It was so loud that it pounded in my ears and my chest. My body swayed on its own.
I dragged my hands up my sides and to the air as my hips swung to the beat. Gia howled, her hands grabbing at me. "Yes, yes, and yes, hot stuff!"
Stacey was in her own world, twirling and rolling her body. I noticed she had caught the attention of a guy only a few feet away. She didn't see him as her eyes were fluttered closed. So, I smoothly grabbed her hand and danced with her until she was in front of me. I was in her original spot, blocking his view with my back.
"You need to stop being so attractive," I joked to Stacey. She glanced at me with her dimed blue eyes. They crinkled at the corners as she smiled innocently.
"Can't," She shrugged and went back to dancing.
I scanned the floor again, monitoring creepy eyes that Gia and Stacey were too drunkly unaware of. There were a lot. And for the amount of other women on the dance floor, we were able to pull eyes on us like magnets. It was starting to ruin the vibe.
"Hey, maybe we should go back to the bar," I suggested, wrapping my arms around the both of them. Gia groaned, and Stacey blatantly ignored me. "I'm thirsty, guys. Please."
"Okay, let's go," Gia said, holding onto Stacey as I led the way.
We were able to snag our original spots at the bar, and the bartender approached us. "More drinks or you need me to call you guys an Uber home?" He asked, scooping ice into a glass.
"Drinks!" Stacey yelled, sitting on the middle stool this time. Her arms went around Gia and I. "On me. Shots?" She turned her head to each of us. I shrugged and Gia nodded wildly. The bartender chuckled and walked away to make our drinks.
While we were waiting, Stacey and Gia made loud conversation. I chipped in a few times, but mostly listened. I wasn't tired, just drained.
My hand was engulfed with Stacey’s because she wasn't completely facing me, but still wanted to know I was there. Gia leaned an elbow on the counter when she asked me a question or for my opinion.
We received our drinks and clinked them together, before knocking it down our throats. I cringed at the sting. Stacey always ordered the most outrageous drinks. But they always had a good aftertaste, which made it okay.
Gia was in the middle of adjusting her strapless dress around her breast while Stacey spoke.
"I think their bagels could be better," she was saying. "And that one blue haired girl always puts too much butter."
Gia snapped her finger, before pointing at Stacey. "Oh my god, I know who you're talking about! She—" Her voice trailed off as her eyes wandered behind me.
"What?" Both Stacey and I asked out loud. Gia didn’t answer, but I immediately figured out who she was looking at.
A solid chest pressed against my back. And a blazered arm, fingers encircled in rings, slapped down on the counter by my side. I froze in my spot. Both Stacey and Gia stared dumbfounded at him, jaws agape.
"Found you," a harsh voice, deep with frustration, darkly growled in my ear. His other hand grasped my shoulder and massaged the spot. "Hello, ladies," He said to my friends. Stacey flicked her eyes to me, then back at him. Gia only rolled them and grabbed her drink to slurp it down.
I considered turning around and fuming at him for showing up unannounced. To yell at him because he couldn’t take a hint. But I was at a bar with my best friends rather than at the office working late. They brought me here to let loose and forget about all the papers, the emails, and my hardheaded, but fucking tempting boss.
So, I ignored him.
"Your story, Gia. You weren't finished," I said with a smile, motioning to her. She looked at me with confusion. I widened my eyes and clenched my teeth. She got the message. Stacey did too as she continued our previous conversation.
"So, that blue haired girl. I should go back there and make my own food rather than trust her to do it right," She complained. Gia laughed, and so did I, but it was obvious that it was forced.
He stayed in his spot. His hand on my shoulder trailed down my arm, then to my hip. Fuck. I snatched up my half-filled drink and shot it down. That time, I invited the burn.
"Have you tried their BLT’s? Literal cardboard,” Gia said.
“I mean, how are they still in business?”
I finally spoke. “I think because of me. I actually enjoy their homemade lemonade.” He chuckled, his vibration running up my back. I felt a squeeze to my hip, but I continued to ignore it. Gia went on. My head couldn’t completely focus on what she was saying, though.
The bartender returned. He leaned on the counter. “What are we having next, ladies?” He glanced at Harry for a quick second then at me in question. I just shrugged.
“Just another round of the same,” Stacey told him. “Thanks.” She flashed a charming smile. 
Harry surprisingly wrapped his arm across my collarbones to pull me flush against him. His head was next to mine as he spoke to the bartender. His faint stubble scratched at my eyebrow.
“All the drinks they’ve had and will have, put it on this,” He said, nonchalantly. He flicked out a card and handed it to the bartender. My eyes widened at Stacey and Gia, who gave me the exact reaction back.
“Oh, this is gold,” Stacey sing-songed over the music. “Thanks, Styles.” I assumed he nodded with that blank, dark look he gives everyone. 
Gia smirked at me. “Thanks, H.” I rolled my eyes, resting my head against his shoulder. It was there, so might as well use it. He sighed under his breath and held me tighter.
“I kind of want to dance again,” Stacey groaned, raising her hands up to stretch. “Girls?” She looked at both of us. Just then, our drinks arrived. 
“Yes and yes,” Gia cheered, taking her glass and bringing it closer to us. I took mine and so did Stacey. The bartender apparently made one for Harry too as there was a fourth. He swiftly took it. “To Y/N’s fun night out!” Gia yelled. Stacey laughed and clinked her glass with Gia’s. They both turned to me.
“Thanks, guys.” We smacked our glasses together. Harry had already finished his and left the empty shot on the table.
I drank mine and shivered. Goosebumps trickled up my arms—Harry noticed. “Need my blazer?” He asked, his lips on my ear. Literally. 
Nice try. With a sigh, I ignored his question. He huffed angrily because of it, but still kissed my temple, his lips cold, before straightening up. His arms continued to hold me against him. I was instantly warmed up.
I did my best not to react and give him that satisfaction. I could tell he was getting angsty with me ignoring him. He yearned for attention.
“Okay, we dance!” Stacey grabbed mine and Gia’s hand. “Harry, stay here.” I leapt off my stool, and for the first time, glanced back at him. 
He looked good. I abashedly examined his outfit. It seemed as if he came searching for me right after work. Black blazer, black dress shirt underneath. Tight pants that stretched his long legs. His hair perfectly set, like each strand was placed in a direct spot.
He looked down at me with those dashing green eyes. His face was hard. He was mad at me—who cares—but still had a soft touch that only I could get from him. 
“You can go. You found me, I’m fine,” I told him with my free hand on my hip. Harry only blinked, his face staying unbothered. “What?”
Gia groaned, “Let’s go, Y/N. He’s fine.” Stacey dragged us both away. My eyes stuck on Harry’s, watching him settle on the stool I was on and leaning his elbows back on the counter. His head fell to the side, still hawk eyeing me.
I turned away and followed my friends. We were back in our circle, holding each other—mostly out of protection. Stacey was behind me and had her chin on my shoulder with our hands connected. We raised them up and laughed as I grinded back on her. 
“If your hot boss wasn’t turned on by this, he’d probably march right over and throw me across the floor by my hair,” Stacey said in my ear. Gia was next to her, able to hear, and nodded in agreement.
“I’m trying to hide you from his view, but he still finds away,” Gia complained. “Want us to move farther into the crowd?” I shook my head and continued to dance. 
“Fuck him.”
Gia and Stacey gasped. “There she is!”
Our dancing only lasted another few minutes, before my feet started to throb. Stacey and Gia were spinning each other around as I watched. I couldn’t keep up, so I pushed them together.
“I’m gonna go sit down,” I told them. 
“With Harry?” Gia asked, glancing over my shoulder at him. I shrugged.
“Not with him. He just happens to be over there.” They laughed. “Be prepared to call an Uber if I come back with bloody knuckles.”
“Hot men bring that out of us,” Stacey said. “Completely normal.”
I laughed. “Have fun, ladies.” They wiggled their fingers at me seductively, before grabbing at each other to dance again.
I stumbled as I walked away. My eyes were heavy, but I still caught Harry watching me. He looked more alert now that I was approaching him. He stood up from the stool and met me halfway.
When he was in reach, I wrapped my arms around his neck and fell into him. “Whoa, love. You okay?” I groaned against his chest.
“My feet are killing me,” I whined. “Carry me?” Oh yeah, I was drunk. Harry chuckled, staring down at me amusedly.
“Not in that tiny dress I will. Can’t let all these creeps see what’s mine,” He said, winking at me. I scoffed and dropped my arms from him.
“You ruined it.”
“I’m not wrong.”
“You’re completely wrong that I kind of feel bad.” I brushed past him on my way to the stool. “Sit.” I patted the seat. He followed my orders and did so. I climbed on top of him, sitting on one of his thighs. Both of his hands held my waist, pulling me closer.
He softly stuffed his nose into my neck. “We should’ve went to dinner together,” He whispered.
“Hmmm... what will the building think when I tell them that big, meanie Mr. Styles is obsessing over dinner with some woman?”
“You’re not just some woman,” He said. “And go on and tell them. I’d like someone to say something to me about it.” I smirked at him.
“That was kind of hot.” He gazed at me, longingly, before smiling. “I have so much work to do. I would’ve been stuck in the office if G and Stace didn’t drag me out. Don’t take my rejection so personally.” I patted his hard chest.
Harry sighed and kissed my jaw. “This isn’t the first rejection, though. You’re deliberately avoiding spending time with me.” I finally looked away with a blush. “Is it because we went too fast for you?” 
I thought back to that night. The lovely dinner, supposedly as friends, then the drinks at his house. I promised myself to make sure it didn’t go farther than that. His eyes, his lips, his laugh, his smirk, his cock bulging against the pants he wore. It was enough for me to climb on him like a koala and smash my lips onto his.
I’ve been trying to be distant towards him since then. Harry, on the other hand, was on my ass more than ever. At work, through text while I worked, during my lunch break, during his. 
“I’m leading you on, Mr. Styles,” I whispered. His hands grasped my neck. 
“Look at me, baby.” I don’t. So, he did it for me by nudging my jaw. We met eyes. “Do you want this?”
“It’s not right.”
“Why not?”
I had no excuse. I honestly didn’t know why my head was so convinced that we shouldn’t be together when every other aspect of my body wanted him. So fucking bad. It reacted on its own when he was near. Like now. My fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing his lips on my jaw. He gladly kissed a trail.
“Y/N?”
I sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Harry squeezed me closer to him.
“Another night. But I want to figure us out.” My teeth sunk into my bottom lip. Harry tugged it out just as fast. “Say it. I’m listening, baby.”
“Nope.” I shook my head. 
“You’re stubborn.”
“I know you like it.”
He smirked widely. “I love it.” He kissed my cheek. “But are you okay with this? Me constantly asking?” I shrugged.
“I think so.”
“You think so?”
I nodded. “You get everything you want and everyone bows down to your authority. I don’t, and I’m the only one who can get away with it. I like it.” Harry tilted his head to the side as he took in my words. “You make time just for me, and I can have your undivided attention whenever. I don’t want to abuse this so-called ‘power’ but I like when you want me. No one ever wanted me like this.”
He hummed and looked forward. I watched him. “You’re right. I like your power over me too.” I giggled and held him tighter.
“Is this weird?” I asked to no one in particular. Harry still shook his head. “Keep asking me to dinner, okay?” His eyes lit up.
“Will you agree to go?”
We looked at each other. I slowly smiled. Wickedly.
“Nah.”
We both laughed. Then we kissed. For the rest of the night. 
And then had some dinner.
-
idk just a random idea. had no ending in mind.
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Harry’s Home
Part III.
Read Part 1 Here!
Read Part 2 Here!
Pairing/AU: Roommate!Harry // Roommate!Y/N
Word Count: ~ 4k words
⚠️ Content Warnings: Adult Language, Pining, Sexual Desire, References to Body Weight (“Chubby” Reader), Fantasies of Rough Sex, Breeding Fantasies, Exhibitionism, Explicit Depictions of Masturbation(M&F), Dirty Talk, ~Slow Burn~
So, yeah. Harry and I have successfully become somewhat close. We’ve put up with each other’s shit for long enough and eventually bonded—or whatever the hell you call it when a pair of sex-starved adults live in close quarters and they decide to play nice so the walls don’t come down on them.
Even though it’s the time of year when I can see my breath and I have to wear socks to protect my chilly toes when I’m lounging around the house, when I’m around Harry…I might as well be a tea kettle on the verge of squealing in steaming agony. I guess you could say I’ve been in heat.
I’m catching myself spacing all the time, hypnotized by his comfortable routine. He grasps my attention like it’s second-nature to him, and I have no other choice but to relent—to surrender. How fucking pathetic is that? Like, get a grip, woman. 
But seriously, I can’t take it anymore. I turn powerless and my body betrays me, simply from the man meeting my eyes with his from across the room. For someone to hold this much control over another human being by just existing…not only is it completely unfair, but it feels otherworldly. It’s as though a connection has been birthed out of the rawest, most sinful form of lust, with its sole purpose to fuse a pair of unwed and horny humans. Thus latching itself onto the two of us, melding an incubus with a siren.
I guess it could just be some crazy-intense sexual tension, too. There’s no fun in that explanation, but whatever. The point is that I can’t fucking take it anymore.  Me being so mesmerized by him performing the most mundane of tasks—unscrewing a new jar of jam, rubbing the sleep out of his face as he stumbles out of his bedroom, sneaking little peeks at me from across the room and smirking to himself after he looks away. God. That smirk keeps me up at night…my hands groping myself and massaging my clit to lull myself to dreamland.
Right…so about that…
For the past few months, Harry’s been able to hear me fucking myself through the thin wall that separates our two bedrooms. The divider does absolutely nothing to silence me and my explicit acts of self-pleasure. These walls couldn’t muffle a mouse, let alone an ambitiously horny, and impressively vocal young woman who’s desperate to get her rocks off…hard. 
And I’m certain he can hear everything—every gasp, every whine, every slick plunge of my fingers—or a toy—as they’re used in a merciless attack on my own body in order to chase an unattainable high…It's loud. It’s filthy. 
It’s pornographic.
And yet Harry indulges in my songs. I know he does. The only way I’m able to get myself off is to picture him on the other side…to close my eyes and astral-project my way into his room and assume the role of the voyeur…as the exhibitionist. I’m a walking oxymoron.
I imagine my waves of ecstasy seeping through the walls to awaken his neglected cock in his tight briefs.
I think to myself, 
…I bet he’s wondering whether or not I'm messing with him...if I know he’s listening to me…and if, perhaps, I want him to listen…
If only I were just playing a sick game of tease…Such a possibility would be utterly humiliating for Harry. He loathes feeling like his control is in the hands of another. Said power landing in my hands? Oh…No, no, no. Lest we forget the towel incident? Don’t let the sensitive late-night talks, the apology hugs, or the sleepy cuddles fool you; a switch, Harry is not. Not that he’s told me or anything, but it’s a feeling. When he drags his eyes down to slowly assess me…there isn’t a doubt in my mind that he’s in charge.
He has a limited threshold for teasing and babying, which is precisely why he shooed his own mother out the door after a mere 5 minutes of her jests. Harry spent his entire life as the baby. I sense he’s needed a release for quite some time…and it probably doesn’t help matters that my playful antics are sure-fire triggers for his dark dominance to take over. I think he’s struggled to find the right mate to unleash that part of himself with. At least completely, that is. And I hope I’ve been pressing just the right buttons to experience it all for myself. 
But yes, I’ve been fucking myself with lotsa gusto knowing he’s in close earshot of the action. Hopefully, he’s come to successfully make sense of some of my muffled ramblings beyond his wall as, “Yes, Daddy!” as well as the occasional gasp or moan of “Harry.” What? I like it…
Although I’d love to exacerbate the narrative that this has all just been a cruel game started by yours truly—a game that I’m winning, to be clear—I'm actually not messing with him. This had begun purely by accident, and now I'm just continuing to provide some adult entertainment for my, uh...housemate and…good friend. 
Before you scold me for being a perv, let me just finish explaining the situation. Because if Harry had a problem with something I did, he’d tell me. And he never complained about this. Never. 
Quite the opposite, actually.
The first time I did my private deeds with Harry eavesdropping in the next room, I'd initially felt horribly embarrassed. I hadn't realized how shameless I was, or how loud and desperate the noises were as they came out of me. Once I finally caught myself, it was like space and time had spun to a stop, and I was painfully aware of my raw indecency.
I wasn’t watching porn, reading erotica, or listening to naughty audio recordings. Nope. Only my lustful thoughts fueled the eagerness in my fingers as they played with my pussy. I’d also been blatantly inconsiderate of Harry and his right to privacy whilst they did. I felt dirty. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Pfft, I was hardly thinking of anything. It reminded me of the time just before we moved into this house…when I lurked on his social media pages for the images of his slick, half-naked body which burned themselves into my memory, all just to use him for my own personal, sick, sexual gratification.  
And there I was again—now cohabiting a space with the very inspiration for my filth and frustration—lying comfortably atop a spacious, girly pink towel to protect my bed linens from succumbing to my wetness. My knees were spread apart and my dripping cunt was on full display for my closed door across the room. If anyone walked in, they'd unknowingly be entering what many theme parks tend to call a “splash zone.” 
Luckily, Harry was in the living room watching some melodramatic video essay on YouTube…Or at least that’s where I’d left him before ending up in the not-so-innocent position atop my mattress.
I hadn’t thought about the fact that the house wasn’t empty until I heard my own whiny sighs combined with unmistakable slippery pussy-rubbing echoing throughout the room. My cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink once I’d realized the extent of my elevated volume. There was no way Harry couldn’t have heard all that. And I had no idea how long I’d been up to it, or for how long at that high of a frequency.
The click of a door closing nearby interrupted my nervous internal monologue—Harry’s door. He was mere meters away from my partially-nude body, but my private quarters kept me safe from any judging eyes. The wall our bedrooms shared stood as the only barricade between our two bodies. For a while, I dismissed my initial self-awareness and I slowly, and carefully, swirled my drenched fingertips over my clit. More of my liquid arousal coated my petite hand. For some reason, the idea of Harry walking in on me like that had me feeling hot. Realistically, that would’ve meant immediate, devastating humiliation. Did that mean I was into that? I’d say yes judging by the way I was pulsing around nothing whilst staring at my door, picturing the man himself standing there smirking at me…tilting his head and patronizing me. 
…Aw, would you look at tha’…Does that feel good, Sweet Bunny? 
“Mmhmm.” I found myself nodding with a sigh, my eyes relaxed and veiled. My mind refused to backtrack, and instead doubled-down. I probably should have stopped myself right there, but fuck, could self-sabotage feel good.
My brain directed me towards thinking about how pretty and sweet I was on the outside. My body, soft, and my features, so delicate, but so grabbable. Every part of me had an ample amount of plushness to squeeze. To manhandle. My tiny wrists and my elegant neck, the perfect size for a pair of big hands to wrap around. I bit my rosy lip on a whine, then brought my thumb up to rub and tease it before sucking on it. The sinful acts my mouth performed were a secret I kept with the few lucky men who’d experienced it for themselves. I wanted so badly to share that with Harry…I wanted to share all of myself with him. 
“Mmm…Harry.” I moaned aloud, releasing my wet thumb and sneaking it under my shirt, swiping the slick pad back and forth over my sensitive tit.
It was hard for me not to think about Harry whenever I touched myself. I thought about his fingers playing with my hair, him burying his face into my neck the times we cuddled…feeling his hard-on against my ass on the couch…the times when he’d hugged me…and catching his gaze drift down to my tits…I bet he’d thought I’d never notice, even after having done it multiple times in a single conversation. Hmm…was Harry Styles an ass man or a tit man? Or was he something else…? He certainly liked looking at my boobs…and I'm able to confirm that his body has a very positive reaction to pressing up against my butt…
Honestly, I didn’t even care what parts of the body Harry liked the most. All I cared about was how badly I wanted to feel him use mine. I wrapped my small hand around my throat and arched my back up off of the mattress, gasping as I mindlessly pushed two hooked fingers inside my tight opening, picturing a certain tall, curly-headed British man molesting me instead. The sound of my own moans enhanced my pleasure as I rode myself towards peak bliss. My modesty had become non-existent as my hands worked each sensitive spot between my legs and teased at my pebbled nipples. A part of me needed him to hear me that night. I was getting off on that taboo. But that’s all it was…my imagination. 
It was just a silly little fantasy. Harmless exhibitionism. I wasn’t actually being that loud…—but that’s when I suddenly heard more feedback beyond the wall. It’d been some time since I’d heard the door click shut. My personal distractions got in the way of keeping track of time. 
There was an urgent fumbling. A repetitive clinking. The sound resembled a bit of metal hitting other metal. But it was light. Small. Following that, I heard a rough yank and a soft plop as whatever the item was had dropped heavily onto the carpeted floor. An unmistakable hum of a zipper quickly came subsequent to the discarding of the first mystery item—but it was no longer a mystery to me as my sex-clouded mind pieced together what I was hearing. The hands nestled between my thighs slowed at the realization.
Well, Harry’s just changing into his pajamas for the night, right?
My audible x-rated activities bouncing off the walls for several minutes whilst my roommate innocently removed his pants next door…maybe I was overthinking this…I remembered calling out our "goodnight"'s to each other around 10 minutes before I slipped out of my panties and began to shamelessly pleasure myself. He was still in his business-y work clothes when I left him in the living room…and I knew I just heard his bedroom door click shut in the middle of my alone time. And at that point, Harry was right there. He was just trying to unwind, yet happened to be in the room adjacent to mine. It was probably too awkward for him to ask for me to quiet down. 
Poor guy…ugh. I was disgusted with myself. I felt I needed to end my “session” right there, and
I was mentally preparing a nice apology text to send him. There was no way in hell I'd bring this up in person to Harry the following day. Surely I’d be in tears before I could even form the right words. I didn’t even want to imagine the scenario of Harry, himself, mentioning it to my face. Every possible, horrible consequence of my selfishly lewd deeds played out in my mind. There I was, lying there with my knees bent up and spread wide open—my fingers frozen against where I'm most sensitive. The silence made the throbbing in my clit feel even more desperate. 
And then Harry flicked his white-noise machine on.
Oh, God…This was so embarrassing.
I wanted to sink into a black hole and never be seen, nor heard, ever again. The severity of the situation felt devastating to me. Was I truly so grotesque that the beautiful man I lived with had to tune me out with the highest setting of his old, rattly sleep machine?!
Hell, I was more than embarrassed, I was fucking humiliated. For real, this time. And it was all my fault.
I just wanted to disappear.
But just as I was readying myself to book a flight back home to move back in with my parents to spare myself from ever having to look Harry in the eye again…
I heard it. 
I heard him.
“…Mmmhh…”
Beyond the hum of the wimpy white noise, there was a raspy moan on the other side of the wall. I thought I was just imagining it, or that maybe it was Harry quietly retching in disgust, but then it happened again. 
No, yeah. It was definitely a moan.
I held my breath as I focused upon the sound of an abrupt curse followed by the distinctive sound of spitting. 
“...Ahhh, fuck—” 
*ptuh* 
The grunting and other lewd noises continued. I could only imagine Harry’s tightened fist, wet from his own drool, working diligently at his neglected cock.
“...Mm…h-hm…ugghhh…”
It seemed like Harry's white-noise machine had some impressive competition. My lips curved into a smirk and my embarrassment exponentially subsided.
His growls vibrated right through the layers of paint and drywall—sliding their way under my shirt, swirling around my perked nipples before bolting straight down to my fingertips, coaxing them to push deeper into my heat. Squeezing my thighs together and arching my back, I curled those digits and gasped out audibly. Feminine arousal leaked from my center and down the crease where my ass met my thighs. Everything was so slippery. I’d made a mess of myself within seconds. Not to mention, the pornographic squelch of my fingers echoed shamelessly beyond the slick walls of my cunt.
If Harry’s spit-covered palm was loud enough to hear over the white noise, then I knew the splashy reservoir between my legs was audible too.
Another series of grunts and huffs sounded beyond the wall behind me and the white noise machine was switched off. I retracted my fingers and slid them up and down my slit, teasing myself and picturing Harry rubbing the head of his dick along my entrance. My brow pinched hedonistic agony. Oh, God, did I want him inside me…I needed something…anything…
With my less-saturated hand, I reached over to open my bedside drawer and lifted the lower compartment to retrieve the silk satchel that encased my dildo. My sticky-slick fingers fumbled impatiently with the ties until the toy comically launched out of the bag and bounced itself smack down onto the inside of my splayed thigh. I could just picture Harry laughing at my lack of grace even though he was busy with his own deeds next door. The thought of Harry teasing me about the dildo made me blush a bit, and I smiled to myself, imagining his hand reaching out to brush my hair out of my face, his pupils dilating as he’d sit on his knees next to the bed and lean over me until his lips grazed my ear…
Be a good girl and show me what filthy things you do with this, Bunny…Show me where it goes…Show me how you fuck yourself…
I hadn’t realized I’d done it again. I’d gotten lost in that depraved little world of mine, and I whimpered aloud in response to the Imaginary Harry who was speaking in my fantasy, “Y-you want me to fuck my pussy for you, Daddy?” Maybe it was the Imaginary Harry again, but I could’ve sworn that I heard a silky British voice nearby react, “Goddd…dammit, Bun’…Ugh, fuuuck, yes. Fuck that sweet little pussy f’me, baby, holy shit…”
Laying back down, I brought the silicone cock up to my lips and sucked it into my mouth. I slowly bobbed my head on it and soaked it with my saliva after deepthroating it several times. The sloppy blowjob I gave to my dildo seemed to have been loud enough to be heard by Harry next door, as he voiced out, “Oh my god, Y/N…I wanna fuck that pretty mouth.”
I pulled it away from my tongue, a string of drool dripping from the tip, and rubbed the head of the toy against my sensitive clit whilst I responded, bringing me right back to where I needed to be. 
“Mmhh, but you can’t put a baby in me that way, Daddy.”
My own eyes widened and I gasped. I couldn’t believe I’d actually fucking said that.
“Shit! Ughh…Ahh…Ughhhh…Fuck you, Bunny…Almost made me…c-come…Christ—Ohhh, fuck me…”
With my free hand, I sucked on my index finger and let my eyes flutter closed as I pulled it out from my lips, trailing it down my neck, all the way to my breasts. Groping myself as best as I could with the rest of my hand, I used my forefinger to tease my nipple whilst the dildo swirled and swiped around my slickened slit. My breathing picked up quickly. The dildo had eventually disappeared inside my clenching hole. The only audible sounds I remember hearing were those of my own—my high-pitched gasps, the pornographic swishing and squelching of the dildo fucking my drenched cunt, the wet flicking noises of my fingers moving rapidly against my clit…I don’t even remember how loud Harry was at that point, I was too focused on my fantasy—my fantasy with him—to notice. I was so focused, in fact, that I had once again lost all sense of self-control and consciousness, succumbing to whatever had come naturally to me at the time and practically singing out my song of ecstasy for the whole goddamn neighborhood.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…Harry, please. I need your cum…Oh, god, please come inside me. Fuck all your cum d-dee–oh g…–ah! Yes! Yes! Don’t stop!”
As I begged for my climax, Harry seemed to have been on the edge of his orgasm as well.
“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna kill me, Y/N…You want me to fill you up? Be my little breeding bunny? God…You dirty girl…Fuuuck…oh fuck, I’m gonna come…”
“Yes! Yes, Daddy! I can take it! Please! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Aaahhh!”
I unraveled with a squeak followed by a series of breathless sobs, my hands, wrists, and arms working frantically and my eyes rolled back whilst the kaleidoscope of pleasure poured through my body. Immediately after my explosion, I collapsed like a ragdoll with the dildo slowly pushing out of me, and my fingers slipping around on my clit to prolong my high. As my breathing recovered, I listened to the tail-end of the orgasm taking place from Harry’s side of the wall.
“Holy shit…Fucking take all of it f’me, babe—ohhhh, yeah…uhh-uuggh…mmhh…hm…Damnit…’So much…I wish all this was inside you, Bunny…fucking hell…”
I’d slept like a rock once I finally passed out. I wasn’t even worried about what would come the next morning. Nah, I had the upper hand on this one for once. As a bratty submissive, I’d gotten used to being teased and controlled. What an interesting feeling to exist on the other side. God, it felt fucking fantastic. Unfortunately for Harry, he wasn’t as confident…or at least that was what I’d been able to interpret in the days following. Nights after the first one, I’d carry on fucking my cunt until I was physically too exhausted to move my pretty little hands anymore. I swear I’d heard Harry finish at least thrice in one night once. (Impressive, Styles.) As for myself…well, I usually lost count.
That first morning, I awoke with sore arms, a rogue dildo laying on the floor, my limbs tangled inside my sheets, yet a ridiculous smile was perma-glued onto my sleepy, orgasm-spent face. I tried my best to tone it down, as I didn’t want to prance around the house like I’d just risen from a deep sleep induced by a gazillion-and-one pulsating firecrackers of pleasure. Too obvious, you know? Had to act nonchalant. Unbothered. 
Who was I kidding—I was the most chalant person I knew. Harry would see right through that charade. But there honestly wasn’t much need for pretending on my part since Harry had actively avoided any and all eye contact with me anyway. I’d never seen the man be so meek. It was truly a sight. 
Things would eventually loosen up as the days progressed, especially if it was a work day which meant Harry had an excuse to be miles away from me for several hours. It was somewhat of a bummer because I thoroughly enjoyed this sampling of power I newly held over the man. I reveled in the way our typical roles would reverse the mornings after our little bedtime serenades. They weren’t a nightly occurrence, as I preferred to keep him on his toes; however, they’d happen often enough that I tended to daydream in the middle of my work meetings. I’d even begun to retreat to my bedroom an hour or so earlier in the evenings, giving Harry some lame excuse like tiredness or a headache. In reality, it was me signaling that I needed to get myself off sooner rather than later. Whenever I’d announce my departure, I could feel how much he’d been aching for it all day, too. Harry eventually utilized the same approach to speed up the fulfillment of his own needs. I’d changed up my tempo, my method of pleasure, the filth of my words, even my own positions whilst touching myself. It seemed like it had become almost like a routine for him to wait for me to fall into bed late in the evening. (Yet another one for me to be distracted by…) 
Nothing’s changed. I still imagine that he patiently lays atop his soft duvet with an anxious throb booming against his eardrums…That minutes will go by with him training his ear to follow each soft pad of my feet. And then I shut my door. I waste no time before diving my pretty fingers inside the waistband of my underwear and playing with my sensitive little petal—allowing all the filth to freely escape my lips. And every single time we do this, I’m in my room picturing him naked from the waist down, one hand eagerly pumping his dripping length whilst the other massages his balls and perineum. To this day, the waves of simultaneous pleasure are still trapped only by the few measly layers of drywall that stand in between us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know, I know…it’s been a while…but I’m back:-) and this isn’t the end of Harry’s Home—the final part is basically finished, but I wanted to post this chunk of it since I’d been kind of neglecting my account for months now. I hope y’all like it! Xoxo ~ Régan 💋
Tags: @daphnesutton @victoria-styles @pishhhh20989 @heyyyloverr @youdontcaredoyou @jerseygirlinca
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corpsebasil · 1 year
Note
smut with chad and ethan please!!
Listen I would never do that that’s absolutely disgusting for you to even ask—
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“Matter of fact—” you slurred slightly, giggling as you approached your two roommates. “—where’s everybody from?”
“Nice to see you too.” Chad grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up against him. “What are you even dressed as?”
“I’m a…” your eyebrows furrowed as you thought. “I think I was supposed to be a devil. Tara bought the accessories.”
“This is literally just a dress.” Chad said, raising a brow as he looked down at you. “No horns in sight.”
“At least I’m not shirtless.” You scoffed, leaning further into him, and your eyes moved to Ethan. “Jesus. That looks worse than I remember it being.”
“Hey, excuse me?” Ethan asked, feigning hurt as he looked down at his costume. “This is designer.”
“Sure.” You giggled, subconsciously running your nails down Chad’s bare chest. His arm squeezed you a fraction tighter as Ethan watched the movement. “Hey, that girl’s cute.” You said, nodding towards a sorority sister dressed like Harry Potter. “You interested, E?”
“I mean…” he glanced over at the girl, then shrugged. “Not really.”
“You need to get laid.” You sighed, tipsy as hell, as you reached out to grab his hands. Chad still held onto you possessively as you pulled Ethan closer, practically against you and Chad. “Come on. You cant be a virgin forever.”
“Who said I was one?” Ethan protested, pretending to be offended, even as he neared. He looked over your head at Chad, an amused gleam in his eyes. You squeezed his hands, looping your fingers through his own as you smiled up at him.
“Dance with me!” You gasped, your head turning as one of your favorite songs came on, the music filling the already loud frat house. “Come on!”
You moved away from Chad and grabbed Ethan’s arm, tugging the helpless boy away from the wall and onto the floor. He was awkward about it, at first, but soon you had your arms around his neck and he was laughing, his hands brushing your waist with hesitant touches.
You had your eyes shut, so it took you a moment to sense the presence behind you. That was until strong hands grabbed your hips, grinding you against their front as you moved. Your head turned in surprise; Chad grinned a bit lazily as you swayed your hips against his, Ethan still pressed against your front. You were sandwiched between them and neither boy seemed to mind; you on the other hand were beginning to feel a bit too comfortable pressed between them.
When you looked at Ethan, your eyes heavy-lidded, his throat bobbed in a swallow. And when you reached out, nails scratching the sides of his neck lightly, his breath caught as he dipped his head down to meet yours and—
“Heyyyy.” A girl called out and you jolted, practically shoving Ethan away. Chad’s grip on your hips loosened a fraction, but he still didn’t let go. “I think your friends are leaving.” She said, a random ginger you’d never seen before in your life.
“‘Kay.” Chad replied, smiling tightly. He was clearly annoyed and you fought back a grin when he leaned down to whisper to you. “Wanna go back to the dorm, Roomie?”
You nodded, then made a sound of surprise when he moved forward and kissed you, mouth hard against your own. You stumbled back a fraction and Ethan caught you, his hands warm on your waist as Chad nipped at your bottom lip. Your heart raced in your chest as you kissed him back, sobering up faster than you thought you could.
“Guys—what the fuck.”
“God what do you want—oh hey Mindy.” Chad said casually, as if he wasn’t kissing his roommate while his best friend and other roommate held your waist. “What’s up?”
“We’re leaving. Now.” Mindy said, eyes sliding to yours. The judgement was radiating off her in waves. “Did you take meth or something? What kind of weird ass roommate shit is going on around here?”
“Who took meth?” Anika asked, running over to loop her arms around Mindy’s waist, her head propped on her shoulder. “Y/N did you do meth?”
“Can we please leave.” You asked, slightly mortified, as you pushed past the group towards the drinks table. You made a heavily spiked vodka red-bull to go before you left the party, moving to the sidewalk to walk next to Tara.
“Jesus, you good?” Tara laughed as you kicked you heels off and picked them up, opting to walk barefoot. You had tights on, thank god, but would still scrub the soles of your feet intensely when you got home. “Your lipsticks like…” she gestured around your mouth and you whipped out your phone, correcting the smear and groaning aloud.
“Mindy’s going to kill me.” You said, giving her a side glance before you took a sip of your drink. Then you squeaked as hands plucked the drink out of your own, an arm wrapping around your shoulders.
“I’ll protect you.” Chad told you, taking a sip as you walked. He flicked Tara on the arm as she looked between the two of you, raising a brow. “Nice costume. What are you, Jack Sparrow?”
“Nice lipstick.” She shot back, instantly, and your face turned pink.
“Thank you.” Chad deadpanned, never one to back down from a challenge, and you took your drink back from him. “Nice—”
“Are we getting food?” Ethan asked, oblivious as he jogged up to meet with the three of you. Tara gave him a weighted stare. “What?”
“I cant stand you three.” She sighed, rolling her eyes as Chad picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder as you yelled.
Then the three of you went back to your dorm and played monopoly because why would the three of you EVER do anything inappropriate even if you did because you’d NEVER
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blouisparadise · 1 month
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Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of March. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!
1) Bloodsucker | Not Rated | 1,738 words
Harry and Louis’ passionate night takes a violent turn.
2) Hell Is A Teenage Boy | Explicit | 1,970 words
In the quiet suburbs of Roswell, the Tomlinson family has new neighbors: Harry and Alice Styles, a lovely and happy couple. Where Louis, a hopeless rebel fell for the man in the suit. Of course, he can't forget his pretty model wife holding his arm. Simple details.
3) Sweet But Psycho Only For You | Mature | 2,728 words
Finding your forever person is something that many dream to do. For some it takes longer than others and the trials it takes to get to that person can be overwhelming. For Harry it was simple. He didn’t have to relive a Shakespearean play or over exaggerated drama to find his love. He met his person at a corner store at 3am yelling at a clerk over cereal and instantly fell in love. It was all so simple. They dated, fought, fucked, moved in together. Oh, so simple. Until it wasn’t.
4) Blue Yarn | Explicit | 2,875 words
Louis was on his hands and knees on their bed, in nothing but the blue jumper Harry had knitted him, arching his back beautifully, fucking himself on… And Harry had to take one step closer before he realized that, outside of Louis’ bum, the end of his thickest knitting needle was poking out. Holy fucking shit. Louis was fucking himself on Harry's knitting needle.
5) To Make a Home Where There Is None | Mature | 3,907 words
Harry shows up and doesn't want to leave. Louis doesn't mind too much.
6) Your Hand In My Hand, So Still And Discreet | Explicit | 4,513 words
“It was about how cold he was under me. How still. It was knowing that even if he had died, even if he was already dead, he would still be mine.” Louis thought he knew each one of his boyfriend’s stories, secrets, and kinks. Turns out Harry was keeping a crucial one hidden away.
7) Haze On The Horizon | Explicit | 6,397 words
“— Louis?” He couldn’t speak. He should hang up. He should’ve never called. His breaths were building into a staccato. “…baby? Are you doing alright? Talk to me, please.” Harry sounded so concerned, and it was quickly weakening his defences. No. No, he wouldn’t. No- “Omega,” Harry called, voice low and just shy of his alpha voice, even through the phone, and Louis just… Louis broke. “I miss you! I-” he cried out, an agonising crack in his voice, a loud sob being ripped from him. “— I need you!” Louis sniffled harshly, slumping, before admitting, quieter, “I need you.” Louis finds himself unexpectedly going into soft heat. Which would’ve been fine, except he is hundreds of miles away from his alpha, Harry, and he needs him. They make it work.
8) Pour Some Sugar (Wax) On Me | Explicit | 11,213 words
Note: This fic has mentions of BH.
“Okay, so I just need you to hug your legs to your chest for me, and we can get started.” Swallowing past the lump that has lodged in his throat, Louis reaches down and grabs his shins, hugging his legs up to his chest, effectively putting his bare asshole, taint, and balls on display.
9) The Room Thief | Not Rated | 12,321 words
Louis: Can I come over? Need your help. Niall: Did someone die? I don’t need to help you bury a body do I? Wait, did you behead one of your alpha flatmates? I hope it was the one that smells like cherries. That is such a weird scent for an alpha. It’s disturbing. And I can’t even smell it. Louis: I’ve just been kicked out. Can I crash on your couch? Niall: Zayn’s in class. I’m here so get over here NOW. Louis: Thanks mate. Gonna pack a few things and will head over. Be there in about a half hour.
10) I Dig Your Cinema | Explicit | 12,930 words
It wasn’t that Louis didn’t want to see Harry’s latest film; it was a tragically pathetic fact that Louis had watched every single show and film, every interview, every red carpet that Harry had done since his ex-boyfriend had decided to leave Uni in the second year and pursue an acting career. It's just that he wanted to watch it on his own, in his flat, with a soft blanket, beer, ice cream, and a large box of tissues.
11) I'll Look After You | Mature | 15,471 words
I mean, when Harry inherited his late uncle's hybrid, he didn't necessarily expect this... Where Louis is a nice hybrid cat who's never lived with anyone but an old man, and who discovers the freedom of living with Harry...
12) I Don’t Want You | Mature | 35,941 words
Louis never wanted to be an omega. He didn’t want to end up like his mother- a submissive omega that married his father in an arranged marriage, and is now living her life as a baby making machine, and a trophy wife who can never voice her opinion- Louis was never the quiet type, he always said exactly what he thought. But life has a funny way of fucking him over and Louis finds himself forced into an arranged marriage with the one and only Harry styles.
13) Hiding Green Smiles | Explicit | 45,227 words
Louis’ heart is racing in his chest. The idea of temporary bonding—letting Harry bite down right on that spot without it being a real bond—makes his mouth go dry. He didn’t even know something like this existed! His mind fills with all the possibilities and questions. What’s it going to feel like? How will it affect his orgasms? How will it affect Harry’s knot? What parts of a bond does it simulate? When Louis goes with Liam to a hidden sex shop, he discovers a new sex toy, the BiteMat, and he can't believe his luck. He loves being bitten, has a biting kink, even, and now he can be bitten over his bonding spot without the fear of anything permanent. He hastily buys it to try with Harry, his friend and roommate, and his regular heat/rut partner for the last eighteen months. They've been friends-with-benefits outside heat or rut for eight months now, and Louis' been desperately in love with Harry for at least five of those months.
14) A Match Into Water | Not Rated | 68,756 words
“So, who’s the guy?” Louis startled at the question, immediately locking his phone and dropping it onto the beanbag cushion below him. This was a topic he desperately wanted to avoid with his friends, but it was bound to happen sooner or later. That didn’t mean he would try to avoid it though. “What guy?” He rushed out, looking at Liza with a dumbfounded expression, trying his best to avoid Niall and Jeremy clearly sharing a knowing look. “You’ve been on your phone nonstop, you’re never on your phone while working. Not to mention, you’re smiling at your phone like a nutter,” Niall pipes up, grinning at him facetiously.
15) I Would Rather Go Blind | Mature | 79,150 words
"What are you doing here, Harry?" Louis asked with confidence, his gaze briefly flickering to Harry's plump lips, a momentary hint of desire flickering in his eyes. "I…" Harry's voice caught in his throat as Louis' gaze travelled downward, coming to rest on his chest. Without hesitation, Louis raised his hands from the desk, bringing them to Harry's chest, helping him button the one he had missed. When he attempted to pull away, Harry's hand shot out and gripped at his wrist. "You're shaking," Louis observed, his eyes shifting to their joined hands before returning to meet Harry's gaze, unwavering. "It's…" Harry cleared his throat. "It's you. You make me… I don't know what is happening to me." "What do you feel?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "It's… warm," he began, shyly bringing Louis' hand against the centre of his chest over his shirt. "Here." His hand slid down to his stomach, their eyes locked in a powerful gaze. "And here." They remained silent for a moment, both captivated by the intensity of their connection. "Every time you're near me."
16) As Sweet As You Are | Mature | 87,394 words
Note: This fic was deleted and has now been reuploaded.
"Do you not have something more expensive?" The alpha gives him a weird look, resting his hands on the table. "Definitely not something the cost of that shade of blue that are your eyes," he responds effortlessly. "Why is a male omega on his own out in the middle of the woods at this time of night?" Harry speaks, staring intensely at the prince, smirk lingering on his face. "Your kind is rather rare. You should be more careful. There are a lot of rogue alphas around that won't blink until they've knotted and bred you up." The blue eyed omega swallows, shuffling in his seat awkwardly and looking anywhere but the alpha before him. "I ran away from home," Louis admits, occupying himself by taking a sip of the lager instead of thinking about the fact that the alpha hasn't yet taken his eyes off him. "My parents want me to marry someone I do not want to marry, so I ran."
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.
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teenidlegirl · 1 month
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꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 ┆ 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬
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ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡
꣑୧⠀˖ ࣪ .⠀𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚⠀.ᐟ⠀⊹ the spider squad come to your rescue but drama and misunderstandings unravel. events escalate very quickly which leads to chaos.
꣑୧⠀˖ ࣪ .⠀𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀.ᐟ⠀⊹ angst, violence, mainly asskicking, near death experiences, swearing, villain shenanigans
꒰ previous chapter ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ next chapter ꒱
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those violent delights crept into his mind.
keep bleeding through the light, darkness consuming his mind and heart. not an ounce of mercy or rationality, only pure delights of vengeance.
his heart pumping blood of anxiety through his veins. with each swing he takes, it beats faster. once he lands on the roof of the warehouse, miguel doesn’t waste a second to smash through the glass roof with his full body. the shattered glass follows him down to the ground as he lands, bits and pieces surrounding him, some on his shoulders but miguel doesn’t even bother to brush them off. those ruby eyes scan the area for your tiny figure but no avail. a grunt of frustration spills from his plump lips. 
he’s going to find you.
no matter what. he will find you.
and swear to god, if that goblin hurt you, oh miguel is going to rip his heart out with his talons.
miguel begins moving on foot since there’s no enemies in sight. it’s actually good goblin isn’t here at the moment, no ass-whooping just yet. as much as he wants to beat the shit out of that fucker, his main priority is finding you. no matter the circumstances, you are all that matters. miguel will do anything to find you, to see your gorgeous face once again. to hear your contagious yet adorable laugh. to hear those iconic sassy, unhinged remarks that always riled him up yet enjoys them.
he misses you so much it hurts. since the moment he met you, miguel’s been infatuated with you. the alluring energy radiating from you that plagues his entire soul. hanging out with you brings him a sense of tranquil and happiness, two feelings he hasn’t felt in years. you made him feel those things; a civilian who captured his attention. but you’re more than a regular civilian, more than a friend. you mean so much to him and he can’t lose you.
miguel is going to find you and bring you home.
     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━
loud thuds echo as he takes a step. clenched fists at his sides, shoulders tensed, chest heaving and brows furrowed. those ruby eyes scan every inch of the warehouse for your tiny figure. unfortunately, no luck but miguel isn’t giving up. no way in fucking hell he will. as he continues searching, he finds a machine and an abandoned workbench with shredded blueprints and debris. his eyes focused on the strange machine, noting the several vials and tubes connected to them along with numerous wires. 
what the fuck is that for?
what is the goblin planning? a machine with bunch of vials and tubes? an experiment, perhaps? the seat in the middle of the machine which contains the tubes connected to vials answers the question.
but what for? or the better question, who for?
that sent shivers of fear through miguel’s body. he does not like what this goblin is planning. some crazy ass scientist experiment. disturbing much.
his eyes tear away from the machine when he hears footsteps from the shadows, his head snapping in the exact direction. 
“well, well, well…” a sinister voice he knows too well. “nice to see you again, spidey.” the face he’s been wanting to punch slowly emerges from the the shadows, a sinister smile illustrating on his face.
miguel doesn’t waste time as he lunges forward at the villain variant with a loud grunt. aggressively grabbing harry by the neck, miguel slams him against the wall with a powerful thud, making the villain choke a groan of pain. 
“where is she?” miguel demands through gritted teeth, leaning towards harry’s face.
the bastard managed to smirk while being almost choked to death. “oh you mean [y/n]?” a weak chuckle escapes him when he feels miguel’s hand tighten against his neck. “she’s quite feisty, very sassy. i understand why you like her so much. such a beautiful woman with much fire within her.” he said with much admiration, knowing it would piss off miguel even more, his grip tightened more. “she’ll make a perfect wife, the perfect mrs. osborn.”
oh that sentence broke hell loose.
letting out a snarl, miguel’s mask disintegrates and reveals those pearly white fangs ready to bite and inject venom with a wide open mouth. just before he could fulfill his darkest desire, heavily thuds and sounds of metal comes from behind made him stop and swiftly turn around. long cybernetic tentacles emerge from the shadows, loud thuds as it slams onto the ground causing vibrations. miguel’s eyes widen in surprise. an accomplice.
a doc ock variant. another fucking anomaly.
different than the one he captured a few days ago.
when the hell did he join? how come miguel never got notified of this anomaly? perhaps he was too blinded by rage to know.
“i wouldn’t do that if i were you.” octavius warns in a lone menacing tone.
these two join forces together? established an alliance? well this is just fucking great, but he can take them both down. months of capturing anomalies, even capturing multiple ones in one universe proved this mission would be the same. however, it was different considering it involves an innocent life in danger, extremely different since it’s your life that’s in danger. it’s your life at stake and miguel can not fail this mission, can not fail to save you. he can’t bare another death on his conscience.
he can’t lose you.
while basically choking harry to death, his crimson eyes never avert from octavius. “taking you both won’t be a problem.” miguel threatens.
an unimpressed chuckle spills from the villain’s mouth, shaking his head in disbelief. “you might want to rethink that.” he doesn’t give miguel time to respond when one of his cybernetic tentacles moves forward revealing you trapped inside the pincer, your poor little body heavily restrained by the cold harsh metallic sensation pressing into your delicate skin. soft mewls spilling from your trembling lips, desperately trying to escape by wiggling but no avail.
miguel’s eyes widen drastically when he saw you, his heart beating faster.
oh my god, you’re alive. oh thank god. 
however, fury boils in his blood at the sight of the damn pincer wrapped around your tiny figure. how uncomfortable and distraught you look made miguel’s heart ache terribly. 
“let her go or things will get ugly.” pure venom in his tone, red eyes heavily glaring at the villain variant.
“i’m afraid i can’t do that. she’s perfectly comfortable within my grasp.” doc ock mischievously smiles, taking a quick glance at you.
“oh fuck off—“ you spit out before the pincer tightens around your poor fragile body, squeezing you which makes you wheeze in pain.
miguel’s eyes furrowed, blood boiling at an alarming rate. oh that fucker is gonna get it. letting go of harry, he leaps forward but doc ock acted quicker, using one tentacle arm to grab and slam miguel against the wall, trapping him. a heavy groan spills from his lips at the impact. a weak muffled whine escapes your covered lips as you watch your beloved spiderman get hurt. oh your heart cracks.
“not so fast, spider-man. you don’t get your prize yet.” the doc ock variant teases menacingly. 
trembling onto his feet, harry swipes off debris from himself and walks over. “thank you, otto.” he rubs his neck with a hand, visible bruises from miguel’s claws. “well… i believe it’s showtime, don’t you agree?” 
those ruby irises narrow at his words. “what the fuck are you talking about?”
“oh! well, you see that machine right there, resting in all its glory?” harry gestures at the machine with one hand. “that is your throne where it will drain every ounce of rapture from your veins and rest in those vials.” the corner of his lip curls upward into a smug smirk as he watches miguel’s eyes widen in shock. 
“that’s not happening.” miguel states through gritted teeth, trying to escape from doc ock’s grip.
a mocking laugh echoes the room. “oh but it is, if you wish to save your girlfriend.” harry glances at you with a fake apologetic expression, earning himself a glare which makes him smirk. he turns back to miguel. “do it and she’ll be free, no harm done.”
fuck. always coming down to a choice.
or more precisely, sacrifice.
with no rapture means the end for him. but it also means saving you. miguel would do anything to save you, even if it means giving up his own life for yours. he’ll die happily knowing that you’re alive and safe.
“fine.” those red menacing eyes meant it.
“no!” you cry, wiggling in the firm grip of the metallic claw but unfortunately no avail. 
you don’t want miguel to die. he can’t! he doesn’t deserve this. he has suffered so much already. he can’t sacrifice himself for you. no he can’t. 
you can’t lose him. 
miguel’s eyes instantly shift to you. his heart cracks at your tearful eyes and trembling state. your desperate cries of begging him to not do it echoes throughout the warehouse as you squirm under the doc ock’s grip, desperate to break free and run to him. the sight breaks him, damaging his already damaged heart. he can’t bare to see those gorgeous eyes swell in tears. but in the end, he’ll do anything for you, to take away the pain from you, to make those tears stop, even if means sacrificing himself.
surrendering wholeheartedly, miguel stops fighting back and slumps into octavius’ grip. the sight of a defeated spider-man brings pleasure to harry’s mind. finally, the man responsible for his father’s death is going to pay the consequences. 
however, before anything else could happen, the glass ceiling shatters as several figures fell down from above. it’s the spider squad, they arrived just in time. peter and jess are the first to land, the other three followed suit, landing behind the two. a wide smile forms on your lips at the relieving sight of your spider friends. a very angry harry obsorn glares at the gang, grunting in frustration that his plan is slightly sabotaged but it still can be fulfilled. all he needs is miguel to fail, utterly defeated and worn out. with the help of doc ock, he will keep the the other spiders occupied while harry deals with his nemesis. 
“looks like you just got busted.” peter said heroically with a puffed up chest, mimicking the classic superhero stance. mayday copies his mannerisms in the baby carrier, wearing her cute spider-man beanie, a replica of her father’s mask.
a collective groan behind him fills the room.
“what?” peter asks genuinely confused, turning around to face the group. 
“please, do not ever say that again.” jessica rubs the temples of her forehead with a hand while the other rests on her hip like a disappointed mother.
“aw come on! that sounded cool! especially after a cool entrance like that.” peter motions at the now broken glass ceiling with a dorky smile on his face.
“it was kinda cliche.” gwen said shrugging her shoulders, nervously rubbing the back of her neck
hobie nods, humming in agreement. ben just stands there mopping and waiting.
“ahem!”
the gang looks back at a pissed off miguel whose crimson daggering eyes glare at them. “move it!”
and with that, they all lunged forward and split up. gwen, peter and jess go after harry. hobie and ben join miguel to attack doc ock. miguel goes straight for you but of course the villain variant acted quicker. you yelp when you’re suddenly yanked away from miguel’s attempted grasp as octavius starts climbing up the walls then the ceiling. you squirm under the tight grip of the tentacle arm, your hair falling over your face as you continue squealing, legs kicking in the air and punching fists. an angry grunt spills from his plump lips as miguel chases after you, the two other spidermen following him. he orders one of them to swing forward and cut doc ock off, ben does the job. the young spider-man cuts him off him by shooting webs and going in for a kick directly to the face. that knocks the villain out, losing balance for a moment. the cybernetic arm engulfing you let’s go, your heart stops and stomach drops. a scream erupts from your lungs as you fall until you feel a very strong arm wrapped securely around your torso.
“i got you.” a familiar baritone voice said reassuringly.
instinctively, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. using one hand for webs while the other is wrapped around your body, miguel swings away from the chaos to place you someplace safe. his grip on you tightens, relishing the sensation of your body against his own, afraid of letting you go. oh god he has never felt so relieved, grateful to have you in his arms. his larger figure engulfing yours. the softness of yours against his roughness. is it wrong to say he enjoys, loves having you in his arms? there haven't been many intimate moments between you two like this, other than when he first saved you and that one night he took you home. there hasn’t been any hugging or similar intimacy, just light touches yet still igniting sparks within you two.
once you were far enough from the chaos, miguel carefully sets you down on your feet. he can sense your hesitation when your arms are still wrapped around him. he doesn’t want to let go either. but to both your dismay, you do but very slowly, retracting your arms from his neck. miguel, on the other hand, still holds you by the waist. not tightly like before, just his fingers skimming the material of your dress. 
his ruby eyes look down at you, scanning over your figure for any bruises or cuts. “are you okay? did he hurt you? i swear, if he—“
you shook your head. “no, i’m fine. although, he did low-key squeeze the life outta me for a sec.” you watch his brows furrow. “but that’s all.” you said reassuringly with a sincere look in your eyes.
he analyze your face to see if you were truly okay. part of him is still angry and concern but your eyes, your gorgeous eyes he loves, were telling the truth. he lets out sigh of relief, shoulders slightly slumped. 
you’re okay and safe, all he asked for. however, you need to get out of here, away from danger. 
the sounds of fighting from the distance snaps him back into reality. “you need to get out of here now.” miguel hands you the watch he loaned you. “head back home or to HQ, i’ll meet you there after the mission is done.”
you glance at the watch then back up at him with furrowed brows. “but miguel—“
“go.” he commands, making you flinch. “leave, now.” he let’s go of you and starts walking away. “and don’t you fucking dare stay here.” miguel warns, pointing a finger at you before swinging away to join the others.
an unpleasant shiver went straight down your spine. those ruby eyes weren’t joking, just pure determination with hints of fury. miguel is always firm with his words. it’s the logical, smart way to leave and head back home or to HQ. however, you remember harry’s plan is still intact. that fucker ain’t getting a drop of miguel’s rapture. no fucking way that’s happening. that machine needs to be destroyed or at least shut down.
     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━
lots of asskicking in motion. much to their surprise, these two villain variants are a bit more difficult than previous versions. time is running thin and miguel has no patience, a trait he doesn’t possess. loud angry grunts spills from his lips, desperate to get rid of these anomalies before more chaos ensues. 
“you ruined everything!” harry snarls, heavily glaring at the man responsible for his father’s demise.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.” miguel swings after him, shooting a web but only to be cut by a blade from harry’s glider.
from the distance, you run back to the scene. one half of the quad was fighting doc ock while the other dealing with goblin. your eyes widen in horror when you find miguel and harry fighting. your presence didn’t go unnoticed by miguel but he was too focus on catching the damn goblin. you make a beeline for the machine and try shutting it down. luckily, harry was too occupied with miguel to notice.
“you know exactly what i’m talking about, you fucking murderer!” goblin goes in for a punch at the red and blue hero but misses. 
the eyes of miguel’s mask widen at the shocking yet absurd accusation. “murderer?! what the hell are you talking about?!”
“YOU MURDERED MY FATHER, YOU BASTARD!” 
for once, miguel went silent, pure shock illustrated on his face. murdered his father? what is he… oh wait! he’s the son of that norman obsorn variant from that mission months ago?! the puzzle pieces finally came together. this is revenge, this was all about him and using you as bait. but miguel didn’t murder norman, it was an accident.
“it was an accident.” miguel slowly raised his hands in the air, a sign that he means no more harm but only to speak. “i didn’t murder your father, harry.”
the younger male scoffs angrily. “yes you did! you chased after him like a wild fucking creature! chasing after him until he fell down to his death!” he spits out with bloodshot eyes. 
miguel sadly sighs. “look… i was chasing after your dad so i can take him back to his original universe or the multiverse would collapse. i was trying to reason with him but he kept running away.” he slowly brings down his hands. “i caught up to him but he kept fighting, refusing to listen. things got out of hand then… he slipped off his glider.” he averts his gaze from harry, looking down at the ground as guilt began consuming his mind. “i tried to save him. believe me, kid, i tried. i went after him, so damn close to catch him but… it was too late.” a slight crack in his voice, hint of guilt in his tone. 
a fat silence fell between them, only the gentle sounds of the water outside. when miguel looks up at harry, he’s looking down to conceal those tears swelling his eyes. guilt kicked him even harder. 
“i’m sorry, harry…” miguel takes one step forward, reaching out a hand with slumped shoulders. “to this day, i regret that night.” 
the young male remains silent, allowing those salty tears to fall. but then, those sorrowful feelings turn into rage. slowly lifting up his head in a intimidating manner, those eyes were no longer filled with tears but with vengeance. “he died by your failure… you took the only person who cared about me…”
“harry…” miguel warns.
the corners of his lips curl up into a menacing smile. “now i’m going to take the only person who cares about you.” 
that makes his heart stop. “harry, no!“
the villain ignores him as he flies away towards you. miguel quickly jumps after harry, successfully catches him which knocks them both down to the ground. with the help of hobie and ben, they managed to capture the green goblin variant and send him back to HQ, permanently this time. luckily, the other group succeeded in capturing doc ock. 
the mission is now complete.
the multiverse is still intact and stable.
the nightmare is over.
gwen, peter, and jessica escort doc ock through the portal. ben and hobie do the same with harry. but just before they could enter the portal, the bastard activates a small golden ball which was hidden in his hand and throws it towards miguel. his eyes widen drastically at the green flickering light. before he could even catch it or run towards you, the ball explodes. the warehouse blows apart and collapses, smoke and fire erupting from the explosion. 
shielding himself with his arms, miguel immediately looks up to find you. “[y/n]?!” anxiety and fear flows through his veins once again. the smoke overfilled his senses and vision. he stops panicking the moment his eyes find your small figure from a distance. he shouts out your name again but in relief. without hesitation, miguel bolts across to reach you. 
“miguel!” you shout before a cough interrupts you, waving a hand through the smoke. 
before you could start running, a collapsing pillar crashes down and knocks you out, sending you flying off the barrier. a horrific scream erupts from your lungs as you fall into the water.
“NOOOO!”
miguel chases after you, jumping off and into the water. he swims after you, using all of his strength to save you. he grabs you, wraps an arm around your waist and starts swimming up to the surface. using a web, he swings you both back onto the barrier. very carefully, he lays you on the floor as if you’re a porcelain doll, hovering over your drenched body. both of his hands come up to hold your face very carefully, thumbs brushing your cheeks.
“no no no. please! [y/n]!” his thumbs caress your cheeks as panic took over his body. miguel then starts preforming cpr on you. after three tries, you’re still not responding. “[y/n], por favor!” he cries before giving it another shot, praying you wake up this time. after the fourth try, no response. tears began swelling up in those gorgeous brown eyes. 
“don’t leave me, mi alma…” he whispers in your ear, desperation and fear in his tone.
after a few seconds of sorrow, a loud gasp escapes your lips before turning into coughing. miguel’s head immediately shoots up and looks at you, a big sensation of relief flowing through his body. you cough out the water trapped in your lungs. miguel caresses your face, brushing away any wet hair from your face as you cough out remaining water, whispering endless praises. 
“you’re okay… you’re okay.” he whispers softly, more like to himself as a reminder, still caressing your delicate face with his large hands, mentally thanking the higher beings from above endlessly.
you cough out the last remaining bits of water before turning your head back. the back of your head resting on his palm so it doesn’t hit the ground, meeting miguel’s gaze through hooded eyes. you wanted to say something but exhaustion began catching up to you, making your eyes flutter.
“hey hey hey… stay with me.” miguel mutters, almost begging, caressing your face while panicking.
you try keeping your eyes open but ultimately fail, allowing exhaustion to consume you as darkness took over your vision.
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