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#barf juice
chknbzkt · 2 years
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I’ve been spoiling the Twitter crowd and for that I am ashamed because this is hilarious
Based on that one meme you know the one
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e-adlirez · 9 months
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I hoped you don't mind me asking, but what makes Violet your favorite from the other thea sisters? Would love to know some of your thoughts about her :]
Hahah, see it all started when I was a wee nine-year-old who just got into the series. When I first saw these cool mouse women on a book cover, I immediately gravitated towards the one wearing this half-saturated purple because her color palette was the easiest on the eyes (I wasn't very fond of everyone else's super-saturated clothes, especially Colette's since I was very anti-pink). Then I learned about said purpur mouse in the books and :0 she's Asian just like me, :0 she likes books just like me, :0 she's smort just like me, SHE'S JUST LIKE ME FOR RE--
Ye I kinned this silly, and the silly was my blorbo mainly for her aesthetic, color palette and her being the smort one (ego go brrr). I would say that I still kin her to a degree, but nowadays she's my blorbo because she's a socially awkward dork who is also capable of dishing some intense shade. A lot of this can be chalked up to the fact that she is probably the most fleshed-out from all the girls in terms of personality (in the English books anyway). To this day I'm not really sure how to characterize the other girls, because think about it: what are the other girls' canon personalities besides "nice"? Pam is the group comedian with a sassy streak (that doesn't get showcased enough) and also f o o d (she's got more stuff going for her in the Italian books tho, like she has this complex about not wanting to inconvenience other people with her discomfort or emotions); Nicky is athletic and super-passionate about nature (plus apparently a fear of disappointment both for herself and other people) and as much as she is my second fave most of what I know as her personality is headcanon (like haha Australian dumbass); Colette and Paulina are the worst offenders because I can't for the life of me pin down their personality besides their passions, which no, do not count as personality traits. The most I can gather is that Colette is the nice receptionist woman who is also very particular about appearances to the point of taking too long with doing her makeup or picking out clothes and is a romantic; and Paulina is... uh... She's the group smort, tactician and analyst (which is a shared trait with Violet), she's passionate about nature (which is shared with Nicky), she's into science (also shared with Nicky believe it or not), she an IT kid, she likes photography, she's nice, she loves her sister, uh... and she's the mom friend (but we don't see that enough), she's probably the healthiest chronically online person to ever exist, and that's about it. Violet's basically got everything about her fleshed out and kept in by Scholastic's story-trimming asses, and I love her for it. I would love to get to know the other girls more, but as of now, you will have to give me more meat on the bone because as it is, they've got very little to their personalities. Yes, I do have the Thea Sisters' official blog and bits and pieces of the Internet Archive to fill in some of the blanks, but there're still significant pieces missing.
Anyway uh Vi. She's socially awkward, she's a dork, she deals with stage fright and not wanting to embarrass herself, she's a perfectionist (which artist mood), she's an overthinker when it comes to her social insecurities, she's a roast lord as I talked about in my Geronimo x Thea Stilton crossover post yesterday, she's pragmatic and punctual (which clashes with Colette's chronic tardiness and leads to entertaining shenanigans), she's attentive and good at retaining information (god I wish that were my ADHD ass), she's that one quiet introvert that listens to everyone talk and then talks either when she needs to or when she's enjoying herself, her luck in DnD/the special edition books and beyond is crap at everything except staying alive, she is loyal to her friends which the later books used to make her the friendship prophet to which I say BULLCRAP SHE DOESN'T THINK OF IT LIKE THAT SHE IS LOYAL TO THEM BECAUSE SHE SEES THEM AS FRIENDS WORTH A LIFETIME AND SOMETHING TO BE PROTECTED AND SHE'S NOT THE TYPE TO SPOUT SENTIMENTAL UNSENTIMENTAL CRAP LIKE THAT--
She's adorable and I love her. My child, my baby, my blorbo. I love this silly purpur woman so much, and the more I learn about her the more I get to appreciate her.
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haldanare · 4 months
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man i used to go to parties and,,, enjoy it
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cabbagecrunchh · 1 year
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to ramble on a little more i think stuff like sausage and kielbasa is like. some magic meat that will make any leafy green taste good if cooked with it. my mom has been able to convert me to both a kale and a brussel sprout liker by cooking them up with sausage. what's next? asparagus?
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kapeeshkapoosh · 6 months
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wallet problems
a/n: a little oneshot kind of thing, bc i keep sentimental pictures and stuff in my wallet and it’s my favourite thing
synopsis: gojo loses his wallet, but his mind is more occupied on you rather than his money.
contents: fluff, petnames(barf), 1k words, gojo being corny, y/n and gojo are married, not checked
Gojo Satoru x F!Reader
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“I don’t have my wallet on me..”
Gojo muttered dejectedly, feeling his jacket pockets only to be met with a flatness in the fabric. The trio of students looked at the white haired man blankly in response.
“So you invited us out to eat and didn’t bring your wallet?!” Nobara was first to break the silence, her teacher could only smile nervously, not really bothered by the threatening glint in her eye.
He gulped subconsciously, tuning out Nobara’s consistent cursing from his head.
How could he lose his wallet?
He brought it with him to work everyday, looked at it when he ate lunch alone, reminisced with it whenever he was on break.
With a sigh Megumi put some cash on the table, “I’ll pay this time.” He said blandly, stopping Nobara in her long threads of enraged sentences. With the sudden stop of noise, Gojo pushed back his worries for a second and flashed a smile.
“I’ll repay you Megs’!” Gojo stuck his tongue out playfully at the raven haired boy only to be returned with a slight furrow of his brows. “Anyway- have any of you guys seen my wallet around?”
“No? Have you left it at home Sensei?” Yuji asked, genuinely concerned for Gojo. Gojo thought for a second, “I can’t remember.”
“Ring Y/n, she could check for you.”
“Right, good thinking Megumi.” Gojo quickly jabbed your phone number into his phone, hearing it ring 4 times before you picked up.
“hello?”
“hi sweets! Do you know if my wallet’s at home?”
There was some rustling on the other side of the phone, he could hear you walking around the house.
“no, I don’t see it anywhere. Satoru did you really lose your wallet? You might’ve left it somewhere at school.”
“I’m not sure, but I’m sure I wouldn’t have left it at anywhere else but our home!”
You huffed on the other line, he could tell you were rolling your eyes at him.
“I’ll call you back if I find it ‘Toru.”
“thank you sugarplum!”
He could hear you slightly laugh at the pet name before ending the call.
“So?” Nobara asked inquisitively - who else was supposed to pay for her shopping?
“funny thing, but I think I’ve lost it!” He exclaimed in a chirpy tune, his conscience eating his brain fully. Megumi scoffed and Yuji could only laugh at Nobara as she fell dull.
“How about we just go back to school then?” Gojo suggested carefreely, however he creased his eyebrows anxiously as he thought on where he could’ve left it.
As you ended the call, you groaned in response. It wasn’t normal for Gojo to leave something behind, but usually if he did it would be for a stupid reason. Most of the time he would pull the act so you would show up at school, but this time you could tell from his voice that he was actually worried.
You started searching for a bit, looking in all possible places until you gave up and carried on with your day.
Whilst you were fixing a snack later that day, you popped open the fridge for some juice only to see the problem behind your stress today. With a sigh, you picked up the strangely dark leather wallet and the box of kikufuku next to it.
Now you had to go drop it off, as you stumbled into your car, you rung his phone. It didn’t even ring once before instantly being picked up, excitement gliding through his voice.
“Did you find it?!”
“yes Satoru I did.” You laughed as you heard him sigh in relief, “I’m coming over to drop it off now.”
“Thank you my sweetie weetie pumpkin spice-“
“Satoru!” He went quiet, “save it for later.” You giggled, making at turn to the school.
“Whatever you want Y/n.” He said playfully.
“don’t be upset you crybaby, I’ll be there soon.”
“okay you bully, love you?”
“love you too Satoru.” You laughed as you heard him giggling like a highschool girl, “see you in a bit.”
“goodbye my loveeee.”
“Satoru end the call, I’m driving.”
“no you first!”
“Satoru!”
—————
The school was quiet as it usually was, with the slice of laughter and noise coming from the training grounds. There Gojo was with his students, probably spewing some nonsense as he waited for your arrival.
As you walked over, with both the kikufuku and wallet in hand, Gojo���s eye lit up.
He smiled happily at you, waving excitedly as if he had a small crush on you. “Y/n!”
You cracked a small laugh as you made your way over, greeting the students.
“Here’s your wallet and kikufuku.” You put out both items, expecting him to take the snack first.
Instead, Gojo quickly took the wallet from you, opening it up and sighing contentedly as he saw what was inside.
“What?” You asked, Gojo only shrugged at you before pushing the wallet safely into his jacket pocket. “Did you think I ransacked your wallet Satoru?” You questioned teasingly, amused at his exaggerated expression of relief.
“nope!” He pops the ‘p’ as he’s always done, “Just had a lil’ something important in here, can’t risk losing it sweets!” He then leaves a giddy peck on your cheek, leaving you confused and curious as to what was so important in his wallet.
Then Gojo took the kikufuku from you, munching on it ravenously as he always does.
-He had originally placed his wallet next to the kikufuku in the fridge so that he wouldn’t forget his snack, but instead he forgot both his wallet and food.
-
Later that night, when Gojo was long gone in sleep, you reached over to his night stand. Quickly swiping his wallet noiselessly. You then open the black leather wallet, unusually dull for the lively man.
You were taken aback as you saw the familiar film from yours and Gojo’s first date at the arcade.
‘This is what he was so worried about?’ You scoffed, unable to help the lovesick smile on your lips. Satisfied, you closed the wallet and returned it back into it’s place.
‘He’s an idiot’ You thought.
You had an exact copy of the film in your own wallet.
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badingsm · 2 months
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VIII — Meetings, Buddies, Romanoffs
Warnings: Cursing, jealousy, a bit suggestive, and the buddies (?)
Note: I'm rusty, I know.
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"I didn't like their pasta. It's bland."
"Me too." Natasha chuckled lowly, walking hand in hand with you towards the immigration office, where you'll both be interrogated by Loki Laufeyson himself.
"Good morning." You smiled at the old lady in front. "Natasha and Y/n Romanoff?"
There was a little pause while the older woman named Jennifer (you noticed her nametag) looked through the schedules for today before nodding and kindly leading you to a room.
It has white walls trimmed with nothing but cleanliness. The neat stacks of papers were placed atop the table as you both entered cautiously and plopped down against the sofa in front of the windowpane, where the sun shone brightly like it's signaling there's good news for you to hold on to, making you smile to yourself. There's also the faint smell of tobacco and whiskey combined, causing your nose to scrunch, and before you could even go further into observation, Jennifer spoke once again.
"Mister Laufeyson will see you soon; he just got caught up with some important meetings," She informed apologetically, but you both brushed her worries off. "For the mean time, please let us accommodate you with some drinks and snacks. I'll send someone back in, alright?"
"Please don't bother-"
"Thanks!" You cut your wife off quickly, and you feel the burn of her gaze on the side of your face as soon as the door shuts. "What?"
"You're still hungry?" She questioned incredulously, but her tone betrayed her with amusement. "After everything we ate?"
"Hey!" You pouted. "I told you, I didn't like the food! But it was pricey, so I wanted to finish it, you know?"
"Oh, baby, you didn't have to do that!" Natasha laughed before groaning, "You'll barf on me on the night again."
"I won't," You said smugly.
Knock knock!
"Juice, water, snacks—Y/n?"
A familiar voice had drawn your attention away from your wife, causing your eyes to widen in recognition.
"...hi?" You pathetically choked out when you felt Nat's hand on your thigh. "Darcy."
"Y/n!" Darcy beamed with her bright red lipstick, raising her glasses back up as they slipped on the slope of her nose. "How have you been? It's been... ages."
"Yeah." You laughed hesitantly. "So, um.."
Natasha cleared her throat to make her presence known.
"Oh, wait. Nat, this is Darcy." You nodded to the brunette, cringing inwardly. "And Darcy, this is Natasha, my wife."
"Hey!" Darcy Lewis smiled at your wife, who only lifted her brow, unamused. "Nice to meet you!"
"You two know each other?" It seemed more like a statement than a question. "How?"
You rubbed your neck uncomfortably and chewed your lip. "Well. Uh.."
"Well?" Nat said, raising her brow and frowning. "Please do enlighten me, my love."
Well, you couldn't really formulate any proper words, and Darcy noticed that.
So, being the frank person that she is-
"We were fuck buddies before."
And, as I already stated, frank.
Very, very, very frank.
"Excuse me?" Natasha looked at you, daring you to agree with Darcy's statement so she could throw you off, but you just gave her a weak smile while rubbing your neck awkwardly.
Her shoulder stiffened and her jaw clenched, and you knew you were in trouble.
"That was before," You mumbled truthfully, taking her hand.
"And? Am I supposed to thank you for that?" She said, her tone stern while glaring at you. "Know what? I don't think I'm feeling well for this meeting; I'd just call Laufeyson and reschedule this shit."
You panicked when she stood up, freezing in your spot, prompting her to turn to you with a sarcastic smile. "What? You wanna stay here and reunite with your fuck buddy or-"
"Or nothing!" You shrieked, catching up. "Come on, babe, let's go home."
"Yes," She replied shortly, opening the driver's door and locking it before you could even enter. Lowering the window slightly, "I am going home. You? Go to your fuck buddy, yeah? Seems like you miss her anyways."
You groaned while watching the car drive off into the streets, alone to yourself, as she didn't even listen to your protests.
This is gonna be a long ride.
-
Two days later.
"Babe, we're already on the plane, and you're still not talking to me?" You frowned, shifting in your seat. "Lola will notice this, and she'll be upset to know that we're fighting."
"Trust me," Natasha muttered. "She'll be more feral about your little... buddies."
"Hey!" You pouted, "Darcy is one! And don't get me wrong, sure, I used to play with women before, but I'm all changed now, okay? This is Y/n Y/l/n 2.0! Will love you like a pro!"
She made a disgusted face, making you laugh before she leaned her head towards your shoulder, causing you to sigh in relief and kiss her forehead as she slept through the flight.
-
"Natasha, Y/n!"
"Hi, Lola!" Natasha kissed your grandma's cheeks when the older woman pulled her in for a hug. "Um, Ma, bless."
Natasha burrowed her in-law's hand before she raised it into her forehead to show her respect, which made you smile because she's adapting your culture.
It's adorable.
"Where's Papa?" You frowned, saddened by the feeling of déjà vu.
Thankfully, your mother was quick to clarify things. "He's in the parking lot and waiting in the car."
You grinned and grasped your wife's hand while carrying your small luggage on the other.
"Baby?" Natasha whispered on your side, causing you to hum in response. "Remember what happened with the immigration?"
"The one with Loki? I still think we've done a great job-"
"No, the one with Darcy," She smirked. "I'm telling that to Lola."
"Please, no!" You widened your eyes, horrified.
You watched her run away from your side as she caught up with your grandma and began narrating dramatically your interactions with Darcy.
You knew you were doomed, but you couldn't help but chuckle at how serene it feels to see your wife getting along with your family after all the circumstances that you've both gone through.
But again, good luck.
Lola's wrath would be a thousand times worse than anyone's, especially with how Natasha made you look so dirty in her eyes.
-
"I should be mad at you," You mumbled as you both walked towards the street, about to buy some of Natasha's favorite foods that she missed back when you were both in New York to assess her papers. "But you're cute."
"Ew." Natasha scrunched her nose. "I prefer badass."
"Mhm." You nodded, laughing a little as you looked down towards your linked hands to hopefully kiss it, but before you even knew it, you bumped into someone. "I'm sorry, I wasn't—Ingrid?"
"Oh, hi!" The blonde smiled widely. "What are you doing here?"
"I was actually born here," You said, feeling a jab on your stomach before you saw your wife's raised brows. "And this is my wife, Natasha."
"Well, this is awkward." You heard Ingrid mumble lowly to herself, but she was quick to dismiss it. "I was sent here for a couple of weeks to complete some business deals."
"Really?" You questioned.
"Yeah." Ingrid nodded, and she felt someone staring at her so hard that she felt like there's already a hole in her forehead. Soon enough, she confirmed that it was your wife. "I should probably, um," She awkwardly gestured her way, "Yeah. I should go."
"Well, goodbye!" You smiled, nodding.
"Bye!"
"And who's that woman?" Natasha asked as soon as Ingrid had left. She feels like history is literally repeating itself, "Again?"
"Uh." You rubbed the back of your neck, and Natasha knows what that means already.
She sighed, clenching her jaw. "Tell me how many more of your fuck buddies I would meet. Should I do some meet and greet with them already?"
"Baby, I don't even intend to see them." You paused when she scowled. "Hey, it's not my fault! Honest!"
"Tell me, how many women do you have?!"
"My-" you shrieked. "What?!"
"I'm sorry," She scoffed sarcastically. "Should I rather say, fuck buddies?"
"No, god!" You cringed. "I hope she's the last one, though."
"Oh, so you admit that there's a lot! You're an absolute fucktoy-"
And before she could even start an argument, you covered her mouth quickly and began pulling her towards where you saw someone grilling your favorite street foods.
-
"I'm hungry!"
"Go starve," Natasha scoffed.
"Baby, come on, I promise she's the last."
"Y/n?"
You heard another familiar voice, making you wince when Natasha's glare doubled its intensity from before.
"Lucy, hello." You smiled lightly towards the brunette, feeling Natasha's hand on your thigh possessively.
"Well, here are your orders." She placed the plates on the table along with the sauces before nodding politely and attending another customer, but not before saying, "Let's catch up soon, yeah?"
You laughed unsurely when you felt your wife squeeze your leg in warning.
"Sorry, I have to go now!" She grinned before dashing off to attend to other customers.
"Really? Even her?" Natasha looked at you incredulously. "Seriously, this is not funny anymore."
It's not your fault that your past flings keep popping up here and there, but you don't want to invalidate Natasha's feelings of jealousy because they're surely valid.
And usually, it takes a lot for Natasha to be calm after one of her jealous moments, but you're more than happy to reassure her anyway.
"Babe, we talked about this." You started, "I love you so much, I wouldn't dare to cheat-"
"Y/n?"
Another familiar brunette had appeared in your vision, making Natasha fume this time.
"Oh, for fucks sake!" Natasha breathed out, chuckling sarcastically. "I'm going home. Enjoy your food, Y/n."
"Baby, wait!" You quickly stood up to follow Natasha, not even glancing at the other woman. "Hey! Nat!"
"What?!" She snapped.
"I'm sorry.."
It's simple, but Natasha knew that it's deep, and you meant to say it in more ways than one.
"No." Natasha shook her head, sighing after a while. "It's stupid anyway."
"You have every right to be upset, you know. There is no need to lie about it; I know you like the back of my hand."
"It doesn't matter." She rolled her eyes.
"Certainly does." You nodded. "I'm sorry for everything, okay? I want you to know that I would never ever leave you, especially if it's for another woman. I love you too much, and I hope you know that."
Silence.
You were afraid that she'd run away again, but soon all your worries were gone as she kissed you possessively.
"Mine," She mumbled, biting your lips.
That made you smile, sighing in relief.
"Let's go," Natasha chuckled, pulling your hand.
"Where are we going?"
She smirked seductively, "We're making babies."
And there, my gays, that's how Atasha Margaret Y/l/n-Romanoff and Andrew Nathan Y/l/n-Romanoff were brought into this world after you both had settled into bed with Lola's baby maker blanket covering both of your bodies.
The end.
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webslingingslasher · 3 months
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banner made by: @thursdaygxrls
(yes, i reposted this. i needed to edit the dates. thank you to those who will re-reblog and re-like.)
it's finally here. a major quick thank you for all the love and patience everyone has shown me over this series. i hope it's worth the wait.
word count: 11k.
it's getting real now...
CHAPTER TWO: MASTERMIND
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FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE
Chistine Kiko just handed you an eighth of mushrooms and you weren’t one to disappoint. Even if it was your first time. “My fucking dad wouldn’t let me do anything in the Hamptons. I literally only had my dab pen and coke. Like, what kind of person does that?” 
They taste like fucking shit, Christine licked her pudgy fingers dry while you were gagging between chews. “He sounds,” baby barf, “like a monster.” She doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm, “thank you! Everyone said I was being dramatic too, glad to know I can rely on you.” 
You cough on the last swallow, Christine patted at your back, a red solo cup pushed in your hand. “Drink. I mean, he bossed me around all summer too. He thinks I wanna be like him, like, try that with your other kids?” You pull the cup down, “you’re an only child?” 
Christine shrugs, “it’s never too late.” You hum while you finish the mixture, it was ultra sweet, you assume it was full of booze. “So, basically, you’re gonna have a super fun time and I will totally be here for you if you need me, but I have friends to see, ya know?” 
It’s a nice way of saying she will absolutely not be around if you need her. You stop her with a hand on her wrist, “wait, how long until this hits? Will I know?” Christine smirks, “about an hour, give or take. Ride the wave and pick a bed to land in.” 
You’re alone for an entire two minutes, just enough time to get your own cup of jungle juice, the same mixture as Christine’s, before an arm drops around your shoulders. The voice alone makes you want to eat sand, you just know he’s about to say something stupid. 
With his girlfriend in tow, blonde hair whips towards you, a snotty smirk, “did you see Harvey yet?” It takes everything in you not to wack his arm. “No, not yet.” 
“Well, I’m sure he’s going to love your top.” You huff at him, “this wasn’t even the shirt Ally wanted me to wear, so, fuck you!” Matt holds a hand to his chest, “I am in a committed relationship, and even if I wasn’t, ew.” 
“Don’t flatter yourself, blondie. I’ve seen cuter rats.” He narrows his eyes, “I will pray for evil to find you.” Ally gasps, “Matty, no.” 
Holding a middle finger up, your eyes wander around the room until you zone in on Harvey resting against the staircase, a gleam of light hits his wrist, silver dances in your eyes. 
Harvey must have felt you, his chin rises in a poor excuse for a nod. You flash a four finger wave, raising your cup to your mouth when he starts laughing with a friend. Matt pokes your elbow at the interaction, “what kind of dress are you wearing to the wedding?” 
You grin, “I’m not sure yet, I don’t wanna clash with Ally.” You turn to her, “we both can’t wear white, right?” 
“Hey, hey, hey, if anyone’s going to marry Ally it’s me, and it’ll be in a church so you’ll either sit it out or burn.” 
Checking your phone you nibble at your lip, thirty eight minutes. Trent’s nowhere to be found, you need to start looking. And subtly. You take a step back, pretending to be interested in a fake text. “Give me five minutes, I need to make a call.” Ally’s quick to give the go ahead, “okay, text me if you can’t find us!”
Thirty seven minutes. Your shoulder hits a freshman’s, jungle juice splashes on the hardwood; spilling out an apology you step over the puddle. A boy you haven’t seen before smiles at you, if you weren’t on a mission, you’d be saying hello. 
You loop by the garage, heart stuttering when you capture Peter and Ethan playing a game of beer pong. Trent wasn’t there, your last hope and prayer was in the backyard. 
Surrounded by rose bushes, the chapter president had his lips wrapped around a cigarette. The red glow lit his cheeks up on the inhale, two girls and another guy with him, you think you shared a class with one of the girls last year. 
Trent catches your eyes, it’s clear you both don’t want anyone to know what’s going on. He directed his gaze towards your phone, a hand moved around in his pocket before he produced his own. 
You stare at your home screen, expecting the message any second. It comes when you move back inside. 
‘Use the backstairs, my room is on the left at the end of the hall.’ 
‘Give me five minutes.’ 
Thirty two minutes, you don’t have any time to waste. Your feet hit the stairs. 
Trent’s room is messy and terribly decorated. Clothes covered the floor, empty bowls and plates scattered across his desk, a still sweating, sealed water bottle makes you smack your lips. How tempting. 
A string of flags, a political one that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, a ‘Saturdays are for the boys’ one, and a black and white american flag. The trio makes you roll your eyes, it seems very fitting for his personality. No shoe has a matching partner in the entire room, you’re scared to think of what might be under his bed. 
You don’t feel safe or comfortable enough to sit on it either, it’s unmade and with a noticeable and questionable looking stain. He does have a couch though, and it looks very, very comfortable. It feels like you’d sink right in. It’s not enticing enough, you don’t trust it. 
You check your phone again, it’s been five minutes and it could be the liquor, but you feel a slight wobble. Twenty three minutes until blast off Trent slides through a small crack in the door, your arms cross defensively.  “I know you’re not fucking me, but you can at least pretend to care about my time.” 
“Wrong. I wouldn’t care about you, even if you were fucking me.” He proudly takes a seat at his desk, he offers you nothing. A smug look rolls over, “you’ve built it up long enough, what do you need from me?” 
The sooner it’s over, the better. “My friends and I have a bet on your potential new members, if the person I pick makes it through recruitment, I win. I need you to make sure I win.” 
Trent’s facade slips, even just for a millisecond. “One more time, and I need you to be very clear on it, alright?” 
Were you slurring your words? You try to speak clearer. “I know someone who’s going to pledge, and I promise you he has no involvement in this, but I need him to be recruited so I can win some money. All I need is for you to make sure I win and they don’t.” 
A brief pause, Trent looks sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that.” You cut him off, he accepted the terms last Friday, and again when you sent over copies of your- Noa’s hard discoveries. 
“No, no, Trent, you did. You said anything I needed, and I need this.” 
“If you would’ve told me what you needed, you would’ve known I couldn’t help you.” 
“This is bullshit, I’ll start singing from the rooftops about your payoff.” 
“No, you won’t. I’m the president, so I get final say on who we fully recruit-” You roll your eyes, “I know.” 
“- but I don’t get to choose who makes it past rush, you need a member to bid on a pledge. You need someone to big brother him, I can’t do that. If I get involved it becomes dirty rushing, and that is the biggest ‘no no’ to exist.” 
You slump, everything comes crashing down. “So… you can’t even pull rank here?” Trent shakes his head, “absolutely not.” 
“So this was all for nothing?” 
“If you can find a member to bid on him, you have my promise he’ll make it, and I’ll cut whoever you need so you can win. That’s it.” 
You’re at a loss, you have no other member you could ask. Matt could never keep a secret, you didn’t know Ethan well enough and there was no way in hell you’d ask- “Want my advice? Parker is your best bet.” 
You shake your head wildly, it takes a moment for your mind to click back into place. “You really want to involve someone else into this? You know what’s at stake, right?” You’re hinting at his secret, Trent shrugs. 
“If anyone is going to know about it, I’d want it to be Parker. He can keep a secret and has no issue in playing dirty if he’s in on it.” You’re suddenly very thirsty, you keep licking your lips for moisture. 
“He doesn’t know who I am.” Not a total lie. 
“Then introduce yourself.” 
You shouldn’t have to do anything, he’s the one not making good on his promise. You made good on your end and in return he’s barely lifting a finger. Maybe it had something to do with not wanting Peter involved due to fear of judgment. Or, maybe he’d be impressed like Trent. 
If you wanted Peter to be a conquest, it couldn’t start by you asking for a favor. That was friend behavior, and you wanted to be anything but friends. This was Trent’s problem, not yours. He doesn’t understand that you can make things difficult for him if he backs out. 
Your tongue is thick and you need water. You have no time for this. 
“Listen, Trent. This is your problem. I held up my end of the bargain, and you have to do yours. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re going to pledge Isaac Barns. If you don’t, I’ll turn shit around and make this the dirty frat, the frat that cheated for first place.” 
Trent held a clenched jaw, you saw nothing but fury in his eyes. “We’ll figure something out. No need to get mouthy.” If you had more time you’d entertain his comment, but it’s clear he’d figure something out. 
You eye the plastic water bottle next to him, snatching it from the side. “And I’m taking this, talk to me when you have a plan, Simpson!” When his door slams shut, it rings in your ears. 
You feel every muscle in your legs move while you walk, and within minutes it seemed like everything got brighter. A vibration washes down the back of your thigh, you slap around, it’s your phone. A single text. 
‘friend?’ 
You’ve been missing too long, one way to stop the questions. 
‘Finding Harvey…’ the response was a keyboard smash. 
Blinking harsh, the room feels like it’s blending together. You’ve never felt this way, it’s like the entire house is moving underneath your feet. The floor waves you into the crowd, everything feels like it’s slow motion, yet sped up at the same time. 
“Hey!” You don’t know who it is, it’s a stranger, his voice sounds distorted. You shake your head clear, and step right by him. You’re on a mission and can’t be sidetracked, things are hitting quickly and you need to find Harvey to explain plans have taken a very sharp left. 
A spin of bodies, you find one that stands out. You catch her shoulders. 
“Lindsey!” You fight for the words, they’re like butter. “Have you seen Harvey Guyn?” 
She’s fucking plastered, a slur of letters string out. “... hall.. wine… yeah! haha…” A gasp when she sees a friend across the house, you’re forgotten in a second. Putting your faith in her, you take careful steps, slapping your hands on the wine closet and tugging it open.
“Harvey! You in here? Lindsey said you were-” there was no chance to finish, Harvey was busy doing it for you. His head was thrown back on the wall tiles, a guttural moan ripped from his throat. Wrapped around his fist was a tight hold of black hair, to help Christine Kiko keep his dick swallowed down.
“Oh shit,” you slam the door on them, standing in shock for a few seconds. It wasn’t about him hooking up with her, he could do what he wanted. But it wasn’t everyday you saw something like that in person, and you had to give credit to Christine, she was taking it like a champ. 
It gave you an out for the night, you were too high for anything but breathing. 
Thank god for Christine Kiko. And really bless her for catching up with you in record time spurting apologies while wiping her mouth clean. “I know, I know, you guys were hooking up, but-” 
You stop her sorry, “how’d you know?” She rakes her long nails through her hair to untangle it, it comes out clean instantly. “My dad is super simping for his dad and we vacationed together this year so he had me try and make Harvey happy so he could tell his dad they should do business.” 
Christine has no idea how fucked up that sounds, “what would he have done if you were his son?” She doesn’t miss a beat, “Harvey swings both ways, doesn’t he?” 
Music shakes your feet, Christine’s hair looks soft. It’s black and pin-straight, you reach out, you comb your fingers through without a hint of struggle. “Wow, you take such good care of your hair.” 
“Rice water, you’re welcome.” She looks back at the door, “I need some things to finish up, but um, you feeling alright? It looks like it’s settling in.” It is. You’re busy twisting the cap on your water bottle, the small ridges skate across your thumb to create a soothing repetition. “Yeah.” 
It makes her smile, “yeah? You should go outside, the trees look fucking awesome, even when it’s dark.” You thank her for the idea, and stand still for a little too long after Christine retreats back to the wine closet. You think it’s your brain trying to remember how to walk, you blame the bass reverberating off the flooring. 
The second you’re able to actually pick your feet up, you move three steps before noticing it feels like you have lead boots on. You clomp towards the couches, perched on the side, sitting pretty, was your best friend. 
Making eye contact, you replay what just happened. You can’t stop it, it’s uncontrollable, bubbling from your throat, you laugh. Loudly. The longer you laugh, the more intense it gets. Ally has no idea what’s going on, but you assume the giggle is contagious. 
“What! Tell me!” You’re trying, but you can’t catch your breath. Each time you try to push more than two words out, you’re back to laughing so hard your shoulders shake. There’s only one reason you’re finding this so funny, you try to collect yourself. “I…” Another round, Ally’s right with you; you think she’s just excited to see what’s got you so giddy. 
“Okay, okay. Christine Kiko gave me some shrooms, and they, like, just hit. Also, I just caught her sucking Harvey’s dick.” Ally sputters, “what?!” A hand covers her mouth, the imagery catching up to her. “Oh my god!” You nod, she said it better than you could. “And you saw this?!” It’s like the idea is unbelievable to her. “Uh huh, right in front of me.” 
Ally presses the hand covering her mouth, to her cheek. A moment of silence, until she starts to laugh just like you did. You almost copy, until she stops and gives you an ironclad look, “wait, did you say mushrooms?” 
You pretend your mind is exploding. “I’m experiencing things I couldn’t explain right now.” Ally’s hair looks almost as soft as Christine’s. You grab a thick piece, breaking it into thirds and start to braid. It feels like rope, your fingers turn into a ball of yarn, fumbling into one useless clump.
“Are you okay? Matty and I were about to go upstairs.” Your eyes flash towards the stairs on instinct, then you're back at her. “Coming back down?” Ally grins and sends you a wink, “not if I give him a reason not to.” She drops her grin, “unless you need company, in that case, I’m here for you.” 
Just because you chose to spend your night tripping, it doesn’t mean Ally has to ditch bedtime with her boyfriend. Wouldn’t that be an incredibly selfish thing to do? “I don’t need a trip sitter, I have myself. And Christine. Also, have you seen Prince?” 
“Uh, no. He went off with Rocco the second we got here.” Rocco, the second you hear his name, you think of his hair, how does one achieve an afro? Would it be wrong to ask?
“Cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt.” Ally eyes you, she’s trying to make sure you’re fully okay before she pulls Matt upstairs. You flash a smile, it’s enough to have her drop her shoulders in relief. “You always have me, you know where I’ll be.” 
“And I am so, so grateful for you, Ally Storm.” Because, you are. In your opinion, mushrooms make you emotional. You went from laughing to appreciative in one minute, suddenly you’re hugging your best friend while holding back tears. “You are so kind, and patient, and nice, and, like, so super supportive to me.” 
Ally squeezes you right back, “you should do drugs more often, I’m loving the praise.” You pull back to wink at her, “it’s only cause you’re so great. Go do your boyfriend, since I can’t get any tonight.” 
“You think sex on shrooms would be good?” The idea hadn’t occurred, but thinking about it makes you agree with her. “Sex on hallucinogens? That’s boyfriend behavior.” Ally pats your arm, “next time, invite me. I’ll let you know how it is.” 
A twinkle in her eye appears, you dread what’s about to happen. “Sup, slugger?” The arm around you is entirely too heavy, but oddly comforting. Like a weighted blanket. “She took mushrooms.” You nod, Matt rubs your shoulder, you almost purr. “Having fun?” Normally, you have a love hate relationship with Matt. You both love to hate each other, but not seriously. Not that it’s been said, but you know Matt would protect you with anything in him if needed. 
Tonight, right now, Matt is a solid force. “Permission to hug?” Ally’s eyes widen, she almost doubles down on the sentiment of doing drugs more often. “You wanna full on, front touch me?” Nevermind, Matt just ruined it, like he ruins everything. “Not anymore, you ruined it.” 
“Oh, no, no, no. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Before you can try and dodge it, Matt’s got you in his hold. It’s very obvious he’s doing it for the pure enjoyment of annoying you, it’s almost endearing. Almost. You’d fight better at shoving him away but he’s got a warmth radiating from his chest and into yours. 
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Peter watches you bump hips across the room with Paul’s girlfriend, your fingers pull at her hair. A wild look crosses her face, two of you giggling.
“I didn’t know she was Ally’s friend.” Ethan scratches at his arm, Peter’s guard goes up. He knows why he’s surprised to know you were the friend in question, he doesn’t know why Ethan thinks so too. 
Ethan shrugs and asks Peter about something, he can’t focus. “You know her?” 
“Yeah, that’s my bio girl.” 
Peter felt constricted, he doesn’t know why. “Wait, what? That’s my freshman.”
Ethan stares at the side of Peter’s head. “She’s not a freshman.” Peter sneers at his friend, “yeah, no shit.” Ethan kisses his teeth, “I invited her to the party.” He doesn’t know why, but Peter feels slightly challenged. 
“So did I.” His arms cross over his chest, he mumbles the rest. “On the first day.” 
“Funny. When I asked she said she had no plans.” 
Peter can feel his jaw clench, he wants to kind of fucking punch him, if he’s being honest. And that makes him even more upset, because why is he so threatened? Ethan may have an inkling that his best friend wants you more than he does, but he also wants him to know he could have competition. 
“Funny.” It’s clear Peter did not find it funny. 
“She’s cool. You know, witty, kind, pretty…” Peter’s doing what he can to keep himself from walking away, he wants to scream that he had eyes on you first. But that’s an insane thought, only one that could be casted by a witch. 
“She’s difficult and entitled.” 
All Ethan hears is ‘she’s fucking perfect for me.’ And his mind was made up, you were no longer someone he’d pursue. You’re all Parker’s, because he wants you. Even if he won’t admit it, yet.
“So, you have no issue with me moving in on that?” Peter’s a little too quiet, choosing to nurse on his beer in hand. “Do what you want, man.” He finishes his drink, he looks back up at you, sharing a warm embrace with Paul. 
“Cause, I don’t mind leaving it alone, if you want.” It takes a second, but Peter lightly shrugs. No words needed to be said, it told Ethan everything he needed to know. “You saw her first, it’s only fair.” It’s tiny, and it’s a microflash, but Peter grinned. What was understood, didn’t need to be explained. 
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Heavy steps found themselves at a familiar face.
“My roommate ditched me and this floor looks like a pirate ship.” You point down for good measure, Ethan’s a good sport and looks with you. “Is it moving?” 
You nod quickly, glad he too can see the shifting boards. Ethan’s sweater catches your attention, it looks soft. By default he looks like a teddy bear, you can’t hold yourself back, latching yourself to the cashmere you run your hands over his back. 
“It’s so soft.” 
Ethan laughs, he has no issue returning the love. You melt under his touch, everything is so warm. “I can feel your hands.” Your lab partner knows exactly what’s going on, “yeah? What’d you take, X?” 
You pull back to spread pixie dust from your fingertips, “magic mushrooms.” Lights flash in cohesion with the music, you’re awe at the sharp beauty. Swirls of color cloud your vision, loud bass rings your ears. Vibrations flow from your toes up to your knees, a circle of laughter around you is contagious. 
You can’t stop the giggles, you weren’t sure who was laughing or why but it seemed so fitting. 
You throw your head back, the room spins and you squeal when your waist is held tight. 
“Ethan!” You hug him again, you can’t stop patting his sweater. “Wanna do some shots?” Ethan shakes his head, “no, you want some water.” You stop, “oh my god, yeah, that sounds so good.” Your lower back is nudged, you’re guided into the kitchen where you see a blur of motion. 
Stumbling, your back collides into another body. You spin quickly, you can’t believe it’s taken this long to see him. 
“Peter, hi!” 
Your arms loop around his back, you pull him tight to you and sigh. He’s broader than Ethan, but his shirt can’t match Ethan’s sweater. Peter feels oddly frozen, you shuffle into him further, an awkward pat is granted to the middle of your back. “Hi.”
“No, no, like this.” You fix the placement, it’s like he’s never given a hug in his entire life. Peter’s offering no warmth, it feels like he’s just allowing you to have this moment. You give him an unsure glance when you pull back, “I’ll make you better, don’t worry.” 
You’re stopped before you could try and teach Peter a proper hug. “Let’s not hug, Parker.” You blink wildly at your lab partner, before looking back at Peter, he has an unimpressed gaze on Ethan. “No hugs? You don’t like hugs?” 
It’s unacceptable, you pull at Ethan’s arm. “Here, show him how it’s done.” Ethan tries to shake his head, you loop around his waist tightly. “See, Peter? This is how you hug.” 
“I know how to hug.” 
You smile and nudge away from the cashmere, your arms open wide. “Okay, show me.” 
“No.” 
A frown takes over, since he’s being mean, you can too. 
“Fine. I don’t like your haircut, how about that?” Peter lacks the reaction you want him to give, “thank you.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Christine should’ve given you the mushrooms instead, you’re kinda grumpy.” 
Ethan pushes you back, “okay, D.A.R.E. Water.” You took the bottle and looked between the two friends. “Be honest, did you guys know they were hooking up?” 
Peter furrowed his eyebrows, you had the urge to rub it out. Ethan slapped your hand down. “Who?” You hold a finger up to pause the conversation, water has never tasted so clear. 
“Mmm…” you blink awake. “Harvey and Christine. Did you think he wasn’t planning on me finding out? Was he fully prepared to try and bang me after he got head from another girl? Cause, I don’t think so.” 
A song you haven’t heard before plays, it sends waves of warmth over your skin. 
Ethan shrugs, “sounds like Harvey, yeah.” 
You jeer around the plastic bottle, “boo.” Peter’s short circuiting in his brain. You were hooking up with Harvey? The pieces were muddling. His Harvey? That guy sucks. Peter reacts subconsciously, grabbing whatever you handed him. An empty water bottle, you smile, “thanks!” He grunts before tossing it in the kitchen sink. 
“This party would be so much better if Taylor Swift was playing.” 
It takes everything in Peter not to roll his eyes, Ethan one ups him in a second. 
“Which album?” 
You gasp, Peter swears he sees a sparkle in your eyes. For a split second he regrets not asking you the same thing. “Any of them! Do you like her too?” 
Peter thought his best friend read between the lines from their earlier conversation. He assumes he didn’t.  
“She’s alright, I have a few of her vinyls.” Record scratch, Peter just lost you. Your hand grabbed Ethan’s shoulder, you leaned in closer and gave him doe eyes. “No way, I don’t believe you. Which ones?” 
Ethan laughs, “I have them in my room, swear to god. I like her sister albums.” 
Peter watches your hand slide down his sleeve until you latch around his wrist, “show me.” Ethan shrugs, “alright, we can-” Peter steps in front of him, the path blocked. 
“Keznek.” As in, you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, right?
“Parker.” As in, do you really think that low of me?
A third name is brought into the mix, Peter looks down, you’re smiling big at him and for a second he feels like he’s smiling back. 
“Who’s that?” 
You point at yourself, “me.” 
He finally has your name, it’s fitting. He doesn’t think he’s ever thought a name could fit a person, until he heard yours. A weird urge to compliment it tugs at him, he buries it down. Witch. 
Attention back on Ethan, “you swear you have them?” He’s almost offended you’d ask, “promise.” You look to Peter, “can you confirm?” Peter sucks in a breath through his teeth, he shakes his head slowly. “I can’t.” 
The answer is obvious, “I have to verify, if you’re telling the truth you’ll win cool points forever.” Plan impeded, the chapter president just walked through the kitchen, a gleam in the wolves eye. His hand clapped Peter’s chest, the light abuse caused you to frown. 
“Nice to see you’re making friends with Parker.” 
You flip the script, a fake smile. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Ethan laughed behind you and was immediately silenced with a harsh glare from Trent. “Watch it, Keznek.” Peter’s face hardened at the tone. 
“You’re taking my advice, I love to see it.” 
Peter has his eyes on you, it takes strength to ignore it. “Wanna talk about advice? You should play some Taylor Swift.” Trent scoffs, “get fucked.” Peter speaks up before you have a chance, “hey, woah.” The head of the house wasn’t about to be talked to like he was a chapter officer, even if he was. His response was pushing Peter back and walking away. 
“I understand why he’s the president,” you watch the room swirl together. “He’s super mature.” Smacking your lips, you blindly reach for Ethan. “Do you see these fucking lights right now?” Peter glances around, it’s the same party lighting they use each time. 
“Are they dragging?” You focus in, when you move your head slow trails of light follow. “Yeah, woah.” Peter clears his throat, the sound cupped around your ears. “Your friend here, freshman?” You spin, “who’s friend?” 
Peter looks at Ethan for a second, you’re busy trying to pull at a loose thread on Peter’s sleeve. “How are you getting home tonight?” You twirl the strand around your finger, the tension snaps it. When the blood returns to your fingertip, it warms your entire hand. 
“Dunno yet. I’ll figure it out later.” You look down at your feet, they seem like they’re a million miles away from you. The floor shifts underneath you, it makes your knees shake, you clutch Ethan’s arm to balance yourself. “Pirate ship?” You nod, “ahoy, matey.” 
Peter shifts when you take him in, more or less just focused on his face. He stands a little taller, then questions it, because why would he care about how tall you perceived him to be? “Peter,” he waits. Pointing behind you, “wanna do a shot? Ethan refused, like he hates me or something.” You can’t stop looking at him, the lights dance over his face, casting him in an angelic glow like no other. 
“You think mixing shots with mushrooms is a good idea?” You move around, like your body couldn’t stand holding still. “Just one.” One wouldn’t hurt, and it’s not like he’s doing it for you or anything, he planned on having a shot anyways. You were just another person to pour for. 
“Sure. Pick the poison.” You answer quickly, an honest response. “Rat.” Ethan starts to laugh and it’s contagious, you start giggling too. You don’t know why he’s laughing, but it feels good to have someone to laugh with. Peter tilts his head to the ceiling with a heavy sigh, “no, freshman. I meant booze.” 
“Oh! Not vodka, I hate vodka, I can taste it in anything, even when Ally mixes it with Hawaiian Punch. So, please never give me vodka. I hate it.” 
Peter smirks at Ethan, “so, vodka?” You sputter, you wonder if you confused love and hate in your speech. You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no, Peter. I hate vodka, please don’t give me any.” 
Ethan slides a bottle down to Peter, it’s a party classic. Peter waits on you, “this good enough for you, princess?” It was sarcastic as all hell, but it still made you feel warm and fuzzy. “Yes, prince.” Peter just shook his head while he poured them up. 
Raised glasses, you wait for the toast. “Here’s to A’s, C’s, and double D’s.” The words made you send a glare to Peter, it seemed like he was waiting for it. “You know, like grades?” It’s not what he meant, all three of you knew it, but you couldn’t fight him on it either. It still works, a cheer is a cheer.
Normally, you’d find Fireball warming, tonight, you find it burning. You almost choke on it, holding it in your mouth for longer than you should’ve, the instant sting had caught you off guard. “Jesus Christ, freshy. Swallow.” It’s like you need a reminder, you’re able to take it down; a shutter takes over your body. 
You turn to your lab partner, a sour look on your face. “Why did you let me do that? You’re supposed to be smart.” Ethan holds his hands up, you’re not about to throw him under the bus. “Hey, I tried. You’re the one that only wanted Parker’s opinion.” 
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SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 9TH. CATHEDRAL HALL. 
Peter was dragged out of his bed a little too early for a saturday in his opinion. He woke up to Trent hanging over his bed, poking him harshly on his shoulder. “The fuck do you want, Simpson?” If Peter had to guess what time it was by the shadow in his room, it was pushing early morning. 
“Get up. We need to go somewhere.” Peter blinked quickly, dragging a heavy hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Now?” Trent started to stab, Peter slapped his hand away. “The fuck, man?” His president wasn’t playing around. “Get the fuck up, Parker.” 
Only when Peter sat up did Trent back away, “don’t wake anyone up. I need you downstairs in five.” When his door was shut, Peter squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to taste the idea of sleep one more time. Then, he got up, tugged on sweatpants and a hoodie, and silently crept downstairs. 
Peter tried to ask what was going on, and where they were going, but Trent just kept saying, ‘you’ll see,’ and ‘shut the fuck up and trust me.’ It wasn’t until he was walking up the steps to Cathedral hall, he had an odd feeling, a slight buzz in his stomach. It heightened when they took a turn for the girls section. 
“Hey, Simpson, if this is a planned parenthood thing-” 
“Shut the fuck up, Parker.” Out of nowhere he stopped, Peter almost ran into him. Trent banged on an decorated door, a whiteboard with Ally’s name, the other one had been swiped, the name unclear. “I thought Ally was at the house?” Trent beat the door harder, “she is.” 
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, he was about to ask, yet again, why they were there. The answer came when the door flew open, eyes squinting at the hallway lighting, stands you. “You’re not Ally.”
Peter’s slightly surprised you’re home, he had no idea when or how you left last night. He also doesn’t really care. 
“No shit,” you lightly scoffed when Trent shoved his way in, your shoulder hitting the doorframe. “Good morning to you, too, dick.” Peter gently walked in, making sure not to bump against you. It made you smile lightly, “good morning, Peter.” He nodded back, “morning.” Trent bounced on Ally’s bed, it produced a loud creak. “No wonder she’s always at the house.” 
You sat on the edge of your own bed, gesturing to the spot next to you or your desk chair for a seating option for Peter; he chose the chair. Peter looked over your face while you woke up, your eyes puffy from being rubbed at, you stretched with arms over your head, a peek of skin showed your stomach. 
“You look sick.” It snapped you from your daze, you frowned at Trent. “Thanks, it’s my natural beauty.” Trent pulled a sour look, “that’s what girls look like without makeup?” Peter doesn’t really notice a difference, and that’s not a bad thing. “It’s too early for your shit, Simpson.” He looks towards you, you poke your tongue out at Trent, a childish moment to prove you had someone on your side and not his. 
Peter watches you lean back, velvety thighs on display. A hand goes behind your back, a plush resurfaced. Spider-Man sits on your lap, arms wrapped tight around his waist. He thinks it’s a squishmellow of some sort, he remembers he hooked up with a girl last year with at least twenty on her bed. She didn’t have a Spider-Man one though. 
“How are you feeling?” You look tired, maybe a little hungover. Little to no energy. Peter thinks it’s the comedown of your previous night's choices. You grin, holding Spider-Man a little tighter. “Like a champ, you?” 
Trent scoffs, “enough bullshit, wench. You know why we’re here.” Peter feels the hair on his neck stand up, Trent can be a prick, but he really has a vendetta against you. “Jesus Christ, Simpson. She’s a human being.” It’s the bare minimum, but it still makes you feel warm and fuzzy. “It’s okay, Peter. He’s just mad he can’t satisfy women.” 
Trent flies up, “fuck you! I’m doing you a fucking favor and-” Peter stands up just as quick, pushing Trent back down with a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, Simpson.” With Peter as mediator, you don’t worry about standing up for yourself. 
“You’re not doing me a favor, I’m doing you a favor! You’re the one that couldn’t hold up your end of the bargain, you asshole!” Trent fights against Peter’s hold, “you’re the one that came to me!” You throw your Spider-Man to the side and step up, Peter backs up against your chest, literally using his body as a barrier. “You’re the one that involved Peter!” 
Peter shoves hard on Trent’s chest, it sends him flying back into Ally’s bed. You step back, Peter’s doing his best to look between the two of you. It’s exasperated, “involved me in what?” It goes silent, you weren’t going to say anything, you were the one who told Trent to fix it. Trent’s the one that brought in Peter, Trent’s the one to surprise you with a visit. 
Trent’s breathing is harsh, he’s more worked up than you are. You don’t know if it’s the situation or your comments, but you’re not saying a word until he does. “Look, your friend here, she’s the one that got us the intel on the other frats.” Trent’s a lot more gentle this time around, you think it may have something with the way Peter’s looking at him, daring him to try and make a move. 
Peter glances back at you, you look away, a poster more interesting. “She needs something in return and I can’t help her. I told her to ask you and I’d look the other way, but someone had to be difficult.” 
“I held up my end, Simpson. You do the same.” Trent huffed, “I fucking told you-” he lowered his voice at Peter’s glare, “- that I couldn’t do anything. I told you to ask Parker and you were the one that stormed out all pissed. I brought him here, isn’t that good enough?” 
Your arms cross, no, it wasn’t good enough. “I never wanted to involve Peter, I told you that last night. I just wanted you to figure out a way to fix it.” Trent throws his arm out at Peter, “I did! He’s fucking here! He’s gonna fucking fix it!” 
Peter feels like he’s going crazy, “fix what?” His chapter president rubs at his forehead, a heavy sigh. “You need to pledge… Fuck, what was his name?” You roll your eyes, you have little to no hope. “Isaac Barns.” Trent nods, “yeah, him. Parker, all I need you to do is pledge him and this-” an allover gesture to your body, “-goes away.” 
Peter takes a second to let it sink in, he almost laughs, but it seems a little too real to be a joke. “Dirty rushing, really? You do know what’s at stake if I say yes, right?” Trent’s jaw looks like it’s about to break into a thousand pieces with the tension it’s under. “Yes, Parker, I know what I’m asking.” Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “right, so you understand why I have to say no.” 
You jump in, your hand on Peter’s arm, pulling him to face you. He’s staring at the placement, it’s sending a burn up and down, radiating heat. You pull away before he can shake your hold off, “please?” Peter steps away from Trent with a final warning glance, “tell me, freshman. Are you in a sorority?” You frown, “no.” He nods, like he already knew the answer. “Right. And are you aware of what could happen to me if I agree?” You have an idea, and it tells you it wouldn’t be good. “That’s if you get caught, you have Trent’s go ahead.” 
Peter laughs, he doesn’t give a shit Trent’s right there. “You think I trust him to have my back? He’d throw me under the bus in a second.” Peter doesn’t know what you know, you look in Trent’s eyes when you respond, making it clear that that would never happen. “Then trust me, and trust me when I say he won’t.” 
Trent looks away from Peter, he makes the connection in a second. 
“What do you have on Simpson?” You sputter, you feel a flush of warmth coat you. “I’m not like… some blackmailer or anything.” Trent shouts out from the bed, “ha!” Your eyes flash to the same poster from before, nothing has changed. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. President. Do you want to share with the peanut gallery?” Peter raises his hands, displeased, “don’t insult me and ask for a favor in the same breath.” 
“Look, Parker, just fucking pledge the kid, alright? It stays between us. Don’t think I don’t have shit to lose by letting this happen. I have the same risk you do.” Peter disagrees, “you’re not the one pledging.” Trent stands up, “but I’m cutting whoever she tells me. We’re both playing dirty.” 
Peter’s trying to think about it logically, he just doesn’t understand why. You have all the answers, they’re only there because of you. “Why?” You pause, “what, this guy your boyfriend or something?” You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no. Not at all. He doesn’t even know I’m doing this. He’s just a person I know who’s rushing, that’s it.” 
Peter kisses his teeth and shakes his head in disbelief, “yeah, I don’t know about that.” Total defeat, you were at a loss. Your answer was Trent, if Peter wouldn’t do it, Trent needed to find someone who would. “Trent,” it comes out as a whine, a defiant toddler pointing at Peter. 
“C’mon, Parker. Think about this. You’re smarter than your own good.” Peter sizes his president up, he really doesn’t like what he’s implying. “And I’m supposed to trust you?” You push on Peter’s arm, “no, you’re supposed to trust me. Trent won’t touch you, no matter your answer. Even though I really wish it was yes.” 
Peter’s doing his best to push down all emotion, because if he wasn’t, he’d find out that he wanted to say yes. Just because you asked him. And that’s not who he is, or what he does. He’s known you for a week and he’s about to put his entire academic career at hand, it’s dehumanizing to himself. Witch. 
“Fine.” You cheer, Peter’s whipped into a side hug. He claws your arms away from him, “I didn’t say yes. I’ll think about it, okay?” You nod, it’s enough for you, “thank you so much, Peter. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 
Trent throws his hands up, “hello? You’re welcome.” You sneer at him, “you did nothing but put it all on Peter.” Peter tilts his head, he didn’t think about it like that, but you’re right. “You’re insufferable and will never find a man to put up with that.” That was a blow, a harsh one at that. You’re pretty good at brushing things off, or firing back, but Trent went a little too far. He hit that deep down, hidden, insecurity. 
You just really wanted to go back to sleep, the thought of Peter in your room no longer slightly excited you. You just wanted to be alone. “Jesus fucking Christ, Trent. Who the fuck says shit like that?” You shrug, “it’s obvious he was just giving me constructive criticism.” You try to joke, it doesn’t really work. 
Peter looks down at you, it’s like you sunk down into the floor. Trent made you feel small. “It’s not funny, nothing about that was funny. That was fucked up, Simpson, the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s not an ounce of remorse on his face either, “sorry.” Peter wants to break his arm, instead he shoves him towards the door, nothing near gentle. “You’re a fucking dick.” 
“Yeah, and you just wanna stick yours in her.” If he wouldn’t be at grounds of expulsion from the frat, Peter would’ve laid him the fuck out right then and there. “Shut the fuck up, Simpson. Just leave it alone.” He does, and throws the door open before parting you with a middle finger. 
Peter pauses at the door, his eyes on your figure. It’s not like he cares about you or anything, Trent was a dick, an uncalled for amount of mean. “Don’t listen to him, he’s still reeling from that ‘can’t please a woman,’ comment.” You give a small smile, “thanks, Peter.” 
Peter’s hand holds the door handle, a tight lipped grin. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he just has to tell you. Clearing his throat, “hey, freshman?” You perk up, he finds himself looking down at your mouth, eyes trailing towards your collarbone. Peter stops himself, it’s not about that right now. 
“You’re not… you’re not totally insufferable.” 
Something about it makes you explode, you can’t stop the cheek hurting grin. For a second, Peter matches it. “Are you saying I’ll find a man to put up with me?” Peter shrugs a shoulder, “the world is pretty big, freshman. There’s gotta be at least one.” 
At least Peter won’t think you’ll die alone, he might even be at your side. “Thanks, Peter. For everything. And for thinking about it, it means a lot to me.” Peter closing the door on himself, he briefly pauses, “just because I said I’d think about it, doesn’t mean I’ll do it.” You nod, “I know.” 
“Good. I just didn’t want you to get disappointed.” Your eyes brighten, “you care about disappointing me?” 
It goes unanswered, instead, Peter takes a deep inhale. “I’ll see you around.” With that, you were alone with Spider-Man once more. 
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TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH, ESU DINING HALL.
The plastic chair next to Peter slides out, nickel legs scratch the tile underneath them. 
“So, how are we feeling about a verdict?” 
Peter doesn’t even flinch, he takes a bite of his sandwich. It was better before it was ruined by the presence of a demonic presence. Your hands drum on the table like you’re building yourself up for a yes, Peter thinks it’s funny you find him so easy. 
“It’s been two days, freshman.” You huff dramatically, “not a freshman.” 
“You act like one.” 
This is the part where you question your attraction towards him, it’s proof to the saying ‘you can’t pick who you love.’  You lean closer, it’s not about semantics. Peter pulls back when you get too close, he must be scared of another hug. 
“It’s a pretty easy answer, Peter. If you won’t do it, fine. But your president better figure out another way and quickly. We already have the PNM list, you make the choice sunday.” 
It isn’t his problem but the more he knows about it, the more it becomes his. Peter can’t deny the curiosity, for a witch you have no real magic, beyond what you’ve casted on him. 
Peter sighs, “alright, explain it to me. Sell it to me.” You sit straighter and fix your hair, clearing your throat you interlock your fingers on the table and begin to pitch. “I’m going on the ski trip this year, yay you.” You pout dramatically, “I needed money because my boyfriend isn’t a member of the frat and I wasn’t budgeted in.” Your words were a nod towards Ally, as if she couldn’t pay for it herself if she needed to. 
Peter wants to bang his head against the table, there’s no fucking way he had to spend a week with you in a house. That’s constant communication. That’s hell. 
“We bet every year on a member that makes it in, if we win, we get the money. I upped the stakes this year, and I know someone who signed up to rush.” You smile and poke at his arm, it’s solid. Peter looks down at your finger, you pull back and finish. 
“That’s where you come in. You pick him.” 
Peter crosses his arms over his chest while he tilts his chair back, he’s mulling it over in his mind. He looks over your face while he pokes at his cheek with his tongue, if that’s his concentration face, you hope to make him think a lot more. 
“What do I get out of it?” In Peter’s mind, it’s a bit unfair. He’s putting his reputation, spot in the frat and possibly academic probation on the line. And he gets nothing out of it. He doesn’t even want anything in return, or nothing he can think of at the moment at least. It still feels like he has to bargain for something, he’d regret it later. 
You try to hide the shock, you didn’t think Peter was that kind of guy. You didn’t know him, but you didn’t take him for a sexual favors type of person. You wanted to hook up with him, sure. But when he felt like it was owed to him, it felt icky. 
“Oh,” you look around the room, your voice lowers. The deal took a dirty turn. “What, um…” You look back at him before escaping eye contact, you don’t feel as bold. “What did you have in mind?” 
You didn’t hide the shock well, Peter’s chair is back on four legs with a slam. “No, god no.” Okay, he wasn’t asking for sex, but god no? Peter worded it wrong, you took it as a personal offense. “Not…” He’s not even going to try and explain that one out, he ditches the part where he would try to say ‘not that I wouldn’t have sex with you, because I would, but…’
“I’m not asking for you to fuck me, I just meant I’m putting a lot on the line for a girl who assaulted me and a guy I barley like.” Assault is a harsh word, you’d fight him on it but the last part mattered more. You could give him the dirt on Trent, he said if anyone knew he would prefer it to be Peter. 
“Wanna know what I have on Trent?” You have his attention, suddenly Peter looks very interested in what you have to say. He nibbles on his bottom lip for a second before nodding, for this part, you really lean in. 
“He failed out. The school sent him a letter saying he was dismissed, he had a fourteen average.” Peter’s trying to connect the dots, for once, he truly had no idea what was going on in the frat house. “His dad donated eighty-six grand, anonymously, and the next day? Bam. Reenlisted and all roles reinstated, like nothing ever happened.” Peter’s not surprised one bit, it’s very on brand for the Simpson family, to pay their way out of trouble. At least he can say you didn’t leave him empty handed, it’s good ammo to have in the back of his pocket. 
“I’ll consider your request more seriously.” It’s something, and you’ll celebrate it, you pull him into a hug, just for a quick second to squeal in his ear. You’re shrugged off in a second, you don’t care. “Thank you! See, I just knew I picked the good one!” 
The good one? 
You’re up and pushing the seat in, your bag hung over a shoulder. “I’ll see you friday?” In relation to the weekly party, he nods slowly, like you’re an idiot. “I do live there, yes.” You’re unfazed, you’ve come to realize he’s just a mildly grumpy person. It’s mostly cute. 
“Will you let me know then, is that enough time?” Peter will do anything to have you leave, he wants five minutes of peace with his lunch before he has thermodynamics. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Your eyes sparkle, he has to look back at his plate. “Thank you, Peter. You’re the bestest.” 
You really, truly are a witch. Because his sandwich tasted a whole lot sweeter when you walked away. It turned into sog the second you placed yourself at Ally and Paul’s table. Ally’s eyes flashing over to his, a grin when he was caught looking your way. He finished in record time, he needed to get out of the room, it was starting to get a little too warm for his comfort. 
Ally started in the second you placed yourself across from her, eyes flashing to where you previously were. “Hanging out with Parker?” You shrug, if it helps getting her off your back, it helps. “He’s cute.” A squeal, she pulls at her boyfriend's arm. “Did you hear that? Matty, ask Parker if he’s into her.” 
Matt crushes a coke can, a burp follows. “No.” Ally’s face scrunches up, “why not?” Matt’s swiping at his phone, you can’t tell what game he’s playing, the glare from the lights are too bad. “Cause it’s not my business, or yours.” Ally pulls away from him entirely, her arms crossed over her chest in a huff. Uh oh, she’s mad. 
“Babe, can you get me a water? My wallet is in my backpack.” When she makes no move, he peeks over, “please? I can’t pause this level.” It’s a huff from his girlfriend, “what? You’re mad at me now? Look, I can’t even ask him if I wanted to, he’s leaving.” You look over your shoulder, Peter’s walking out with headphones stuffed in his ears, blind to the outside noise. How lucky. 
“Yeah, good thing you don’t live together or anything, Matt.” It has his total attention, “no need for that hostility, honey. If you want me to ask, I’ll ask.” It’s the right move, and he played right into Ally’s hand. A cluster of kisses to his cheek, “thank you, Matty. Love you.” A smile’s back on his face, his reward was his request being honored. 
The second Ally’s out of earshot you laugh at her boyfriend. “She plays you like a fool.” 
Matt doesn’t care one bit. “Yeah, love makes you do that. You’ll find out, she-devil.” 
You just hope you’re not the fool.
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WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13TH, QUEENS, NEW YORK.
A six car pileup on the bridge caught Spider-Man’s attention, adrenalin courses his veins, any traces of that six egg omelet from Linda weighing him down vanishes. A screech of his name, he clocks it instantly. A woman, barely fourty. Spider-Man knows who it is, it’s the reporter that called him a Spider-Menace last week. Oh, how the mighty fall. 
A head tilt at the woman, she’s panicking. Thrashing in her seat, crumpled between glass and leather. She’s begging him for help, he watches for a moment before speaking over the screams. “Calm down, I’m gonna help you. Just felt like being a menace.” Tears, she speed runs apologies, tells him it’s just a job and her son loves him. 
“Alright, alright, come here.’ A grown woman, clinging to his hip is almost comedic. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Spider-Man doesn’t need to hear it a million times, it doesn’t mean much to him after the first one. “You’re alright, just wait over here for the fire department, okay?” 
There’s countless other shouts, he’s already running back up the freeway. Spider-Man has no plans to stay in the city after this, no, instead Peter is going to take the long train back and listen to a podcast. But right now, Spider-Man has a job to do. 
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CATHEDRAL HALL. 
Three copies of the same page, everyone calls a name.
Ally starts, “I call Conner Frise.”
 Prince next, “Sam Mason.”  
Ally pokes your shoulder, “c’mon, what’s your pick?” 
You pretend to think about it, two pairs of eyes waiting expectantly. You grin, “Isaac Barns.” Confidence spills, “and I’m gonna win.” 
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FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE
Peter’s clouded in infatuation. If he was animated, he’d have hearts and stars swirling around his head. Maybe it was the booze that had him feeling so loose, for once dropping the urge to push you away, and to pull you closer. Or maybe it was you. All he could smell was your perfume, it choked him in the right ways. Something he’d be smelling long after you were gone, something that made him want to breathe in against your neck. 
You haven’t left him alone all night, circling back over and over until all he could think about was you, you, you. 
He didn’t know a neck could be so pretty, how he’d kiss over your pulse and hope it would race as much as his. And he never really noticed hair, until it framed your face. Peter was never much on picking up sounds, but now he’s heard your laugh, the one he pulled from you, he’d never be able to unhear it. 
And your voice. It whispered a song into his ears, it sent him leaning in, begging for more of the inflections. Peter didn’t care what you were talking about, as long as you were speaking to him, he’d listen. He wasn’t one to notice clothes, only when they fit just right or left little to the imagination. But on you, everything was your color. 
Peter can’t think of anything else but your lips, they’re puffed while you spin words. Velvet tumbles produced, hints of a smile around your ‘S’s. It’s like you don’t notice him getting closer, as he steps forward, you step back. You weren’t trying to escape, it was subconscious, you were making more room for him, you don't realize he doesn't want space. 
“It was really kind of sad, because the whole time you were rooting for the main character,” he’d asked you about a book he saw in your room. He doesn’t really care about it. 
“Right,” one step closer. 
“But then it all comes down at the end and you realize he really wasn’t a good guy,” Peter takes another step, your back brushes the brick wall. Little pricks dig into your shirt, it doesn’t stop you. 
“And then?” 
You smile, “this is where it gets good,” Peter leans his hand on the wall next to your head, you make no notice. “It is.” It’s more of a statement than a question, he’s relaying it to his own situation. 
“You find out he set up his friend,” it was the twist, you’d been setting it up, but Peter has no reaction. You wonder if he was even listening to you, maybe it would’ve been better if he had read it himself. 
“Are you listening to me? Cause I just kind of just spoiled the whole thing.” 
Peter can’t stop himself, he leans in. His head hangs low, you raise your chin to look in his eyes. How have you still not picked up on his hints? “Why’d he set him up?” You hum, a sparkle forms in your eyes, he was listening. 
“Well, if we're talking about my personal analysis, I think it’s cause-” 
Your lips are pillowy, puffed under his mouth as they’re wrapped around your words. Your skin is warm under his hands, he can feel your hips burning his palms over your clothes. Peter tugs you closer while simultaneously pushing you further into the brick, when you hum into his kiss, he licks your bottom lip. 
Open mouth kisses, your hands tug at the curls on the back of his neck, he’s not one for girls playing with his hair. But you, he wants you to touch wherever you want. He can’t fucking breathe, but he doesn’t care, you’re enough of a breath of fresh air. Peter feels more alive in this moment than he has in a long time. 
You pull from him, puffs of air tumble. Peter’s desperate for more, you’re just so sweet. Wet marks dot from your jaw to your neck, your hands tug at the lapels of his flannel. “Peter,” it’s breathless, he wonders if it’s the kiss or him. 
Hands tuck under your thighs, you gasp as you’re pulled up to equal height on the wall. Your legs loosely straddle his waist, nails digging into his shoulder when he hums over the middle of your throat between gentle bites and smoothing his tongue over the attack. “Fuck,” it’s a whimper, you don’t mean to, but fuck. 
Maybe he shouldn’t have cornered you like this, but what’d you expect looking at him like that? 
Peter retraces his steps, all you can think is that he tastes as sweet as he feels. It was everything you’d been pining for, and more. You were screaming in color, each grip of his hands felt like water paint, soaking deep and spreading. 
Would it be selfish if you wished he felt the same? 
“Parker, you out here?” 
You squeak, your feet hit the ground. Peter’s head is spinning, his instinct to get as far away as possible. “Yeah,” it’s airy. He clears his throat, you look over his face, he’s avoiding eye contact. “Peter,” you feel a jolt when he backs away. A stab when he steps around the corner, you try to follow, he’s quicker. 
You feel everything crumble when you realize he doesn’t want anyone to know he was with you. 
“Where you at? We’re mixing everclear for the PNM’s.” 
“Peter,” it’s on deaf ears. He doesn’t even look at you, how could he kiss you like that and then act like it was nothing? Why would he kiss you like that if it meant nothing? 
“Right here,” you watch his back disappear. “Tequila if we’re evil, beer to make them puke.” His frat brother laughs, “you’re a sick man, Parker.” 
It really, really doesn’t feel nice to be left behind in the cold. Especially when he just made you feel so warm. And it really doesn’t feel right when you want to cry, and it feels humiliating when you give him a grace period, just so you didn’t follow him from the back of the house. Just so no one would see you, just so no one would know what just happened. 
Just so you could keep it to yourself. 
You feel nothing when a shoulder hits yours, your fingers feel hot from the contrast of the breezy outdoors to the crowded, humid room of bodies. Ally’s arm hangs over your neck, you want to scream. 
Peter’s eyes catch your frown, he should’ve done more. But if he doesn’t understand anything, how would his frat brothers? He feels bad, and a little more sober than he should be, a little too sober to have done what he just did. A line of shots, Peter adds an two extra, but he doesn’t add everclear, he chooses Fireball. 
A pink, plastic shot glass slid in front of you. You look up, Peter’s waiting and watching, he raises his own. “Cheers, freshman.” It’s something, he’s waiting on your call, you’re so close and you can’t blow it now. You plaster on a smile and shake Ally’s arm off, you raise it up. 
“Cheers, Parker.” 
Peter must’ve had more than he thinks, because wow, what a gross feeling. 
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SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE
Peter does his best to be a good person, part of that is knowing when you fuck up. And what he did at his party on friday, was a fuck up. It wasn’t that he particularly cared about you, or your feelings, but he could admit that he pulled a shitty move. So shitty he dodged you the rest of the night and left you high and dry with his answer about your favor. 
You didn’t even have a way to try and contact him, other than beating down his door but even you knew that would be a bad idea. Which leads him to now, standing on the front lawn, with thirty two potential pledges. 
Peter’s turn to bid. A terrible idea. But all he could think about was getting back in your good graces and how much it fucking annoyed him to want that. Peter can feel Trent’s eyes burning into him, he takes a step forward, boldness in his chest. 
“I bid Isaac Barns.” 
It would either be the worst or best decision of his life and for whatever reason, you’re worth the gamble.
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CATHEDRAL HALL
its.parker requested to follow you.
Your eyes widened, suddenly you’re very awake. Peter’s the one that kissed you, Peter’s the one that walked away, Peter’s the one that ignored you. Peter’s the one that followed you. Mixed messages, but it proved something. It wasn’t his main with ten pictures, it was his personal, his finsta, the one full of his personality. 
You nibble on your bottom lip, it shouldn’t be that easy for him. Tapping on his account you hit the request button, just because you follow him doesn’t mean he gets to follow you. Mind spinning, you replay friday night again. 
The tension eased and multiplied in one action. Peter had made you feel butterflies in the deepest pits of your stomach, when he kissed down your neck, when he wrapped your legs around his waist, when he went in for more, when he kissed you first. 
Even thinking about it makes your cheeks hurt from a grin, you squeal out and kick your feet in your bed. Peter Parker kissed you, and it meant something. It had to, something tells you that Peter doesn’t jump without thinking. 
Peter’s holding his breath while refreshing his page, still no notifications. He’s worried he blew it that night, not that it matters, it was just a kiss. Everyone kisses, if you really think about it, kisses don’t mean much. At least that’s what he tells himself. 
spider.luvr66 requested to follow you. 
If he acts now, he’d be a bit crazy. You hadn’t responded to him, but he doesn’t care. He’ll wait a couple minutes, then respond. It feels like his brain is melting, he’s not supposed to, and doesn’t feel like this. It’s against who he is now. 
But, fuck, you make it difficult for him to not think about you. Peter swears you’re a witch. 
Accept. spider.luvr66 is now following you. 
Follow request accepted, you are now following its.parker.
You sit up, it was quick, you wonder if he was waiting for the notification. It doesn’t matter, you have the Peter Parker bible in your hands, and you were about to do some research. 
You finally had access to his posts, and you were about to scroll through every single one. But the most recent one was the most important of all. A picture of Peter, crossed arms back to back with a slightly familiar face. The caption told you everything you needed to know about Peter. 
‘big brother season.’ 
You had your bid and he posted the proof.
Whatever he did friday was forgiven. That wasn’t who he was, but this, putting himself on the line for you, this was his true character and whether he wanted you to notice that or not, you did.
And it was a bold act for a guy who pretended he didn’t kiss you breathless. 
352 notes · View notes
nattinatalia · 11 months
Text
Jack Harlow x Reader : THAT’S NOT MAMA!
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Your husband had just texted you from his at home studio that the official trailer for his movie, White Men Can’t Jump, was out.
You had suggested watching it together in the living room, kids included, to see their reaction to their dad doing something else other than music.
“Ugh dad I was playing.” Ez says grumpily.
“You’ll go back soon, let’s just watch this real quick.” The four of you are sitting across the television.
You’re biting your nails due to nerves. He did warn you about some specific scenes, but you told him you understood.
“Ohhh daddy, is this your movie?” Mia asks, the trailer already playing.
“Yeah bug, this is it.” Jack tells her proudly.
“What is a white girl in Whole Foods?” Ez asks.
You and Jack share a laugh but continue watching it, the kids asking little questions here and there.
“Boo-boo juice that’s funny and looks nasty daddy.”
“Yeah I don’t wanna drink that. Yuck.” Ezequiel pretends to barf.
Mia gasps, “Daddy, that’s not nice.”
“What?”
“You making fun of his ears.”
“It’s part of the movie bug.” You tell her.
“Did you say sorry after?”
Jack nods, “I did princess.”
Once the trailer was over, you see Ezequiel whispering something in Mia’s ear. They both turn to look at Jack.
“Can we watch it again?” Mia asks him.
Of course Jack plays it again for them.
“STOP PAUSE.” Ez yells.
“What?” You ask him, getting worried.
“See Mia, there.” Ezequiel stands up and points to the television.
Mia stands up and walks towards her brother and they have a mini conversation you can’t hear. Both their little arms are making movements in the air.
Once they are done, they both turn to look at Jack and glare at him.
“W-what did I do?” He’s confused, looking at you then back at the kids.
“THAT.” Ez points. “NOT MOMMA. YOU IN BIG TROUBLE.”
“You can’t kiss other girls daddy, that’s bad bad, like really bad.” Mia tells him, her eyes are getting watery.
“Do you not love mommy?”
You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to muffle your laugh from the kids.
“What? Of course I love mommy.”
“Then why kiss other girl huh?” Ez asks him, his hands on his waist.
“It’s just a movie, little man, it’s fake.”
“Fake? I see it there, kissing her and laughing. It’s no funny.”
“Ezequiel, some movies or most movies aren’t real. It’s acting, you’ll understand more when you’re a bit older. But I promise you, I love your mommy.” Jack tries to reassure the kids.
“You okay momma?” Your sons come up to you, holding your hands.
You smile at him. “Yes my baby boy, I’m totally fine.”
“Okay.” He then walks to Jack. “Cool movie.” They fist bump and Ezequiel walks out the living room and back to the playroom.
Mia is standing by the television.
“You okay bug?” Jack asks her.
“You and mommy okay? You not moving houses like Nino Urby and Nina?”
“Oh baby.” Jack carries her to his chest. “I promise you, mommy and I are more than okay. We love each other so much, we’re not going anywhere.”
“That hurt my feelings, but you sound funny in your movie daddy. You’re a star.” Mia tells him, while playing with his beard.
“Thank you princess.” He kisses her head and sets her down.
“No more being sad baby, like daddy told Ez, it’s all part of the movie. Your daddy isn’t going anywhere.” You reassure your daughter.
“Okay mommy.” She hugs you. “Going to make sure Cheesy isn’t doing a mess.” She runs off to the playroom.
Jack is staring at you with raised eyebrows. “What Jackman?”
“Our kids were ready to knock me out.”
You chuckle. “No they were not.”
“Babe, yes they were, I was scared for my life. I thought Ezequiel was about to punch me.”
“You’re so dramatic.” You laugh, going up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I’m proud of you though.”
That makes him smile, he places his hands on your ass. “Yeah? Even with the kiss scene?”
“The kids gave you enough shit about it, I’ll save my comments to myself.” You play with his KY chain, your favorite chain on him.
“Oh so you did feel some type of way about it?” He squeezes both ass cheeks, smirking about it.
You roll your eyes and playful smack him on his chest. “You are loving this aren’t you?”
He nods, “It takes me back to when you first showed your jealous side.”
“We are not going there Jackman.” You glare at him, but then smile. “But I’ll get my revenge for it though, you just wait and see.”
“Wait what?”
“My next music video, let’s just say it’s not YouTube appropriate.”
“Y/N that’s not fair.”
“It’s okay baby, because it’s all fake right?” You smirk and get on your tippy toes to peck him. “But I am proud of you bubs, I can’t wait to watch it.”
“Maybe without the kids?” He suggests.
You laugh at that, “If you don’t want mini glares the entire time, then yes that’s best.”
You two share a kiss and you continue to tell him how proud you are of him. He gets shy whenever you praise him, so you enjoy it every single time.
“MOM, DAD, EZEQUIEL IS ANNOYING.”
“NO I’M NOT.”
“YES YOU ARE, STOP SAYING THAT.”
You and Jack share a look and smile.
“DON’T WORRY MAMI.. DON’T WORRY MAMI. DON’T WORRY MAMI.” Ezequiel yells out plenty of times, probably to annoy his sister even more.
“What are you saying?” You laugh, walking into the playroom.
“It’s from daddy’s movie, his friend was saying it.” Ez shrugs, referring to Sinqua Walls' line.
“He’s being annoying dad.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes, and it’s mommy not mami.” Mia huffles in annoyance. “You don’t even make sense.”
“Uncle Sunni calls the girls mami, so I do know.”
“Okay, enough kids.”
“Oh can I get a flame gun for Christmas? Like in your movie?”
“NO.”
“Maybe next time we won’t show them any of our future projects.” You suggest.
Jack nods, “Sounds like a plan.”
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cipheramnesia · 6 months
Text
Vivisection
I sloughed the shell in a flourish of our shared sweat, blood, and mucus. Cold on the steel-grated floor lift, tech eyes wide over me as my psyche twitched itself back together from the needles. My eyes said you must be new but my mouth spoke in thick puked up fluid whilst my sopping slick shuddering fingers clawed nerve pads off my tits and slid catheter from my dick. All of us nerves had little twitches of pleasure as we found ourselves whole, and made it to sitting.
"Towel," I found language, and the tech handed it, eyes carefully elsewhere at the pink and red cockpit still quivering in urgency, wet with quenched desires. Methodically cleaned under the wet warm terrycloth ministrations, top to standing, adjusting to eyes and ears 'side skin and taste. The hangar was all echoes of more experienced crew on the teardown fifty feet up and down the shell, didn't need the look I turned anyway at my love, the crab. Rested claws in bands of carbon, four squat legs and rolling condensation off the quieting spiracles. Charred, twisting armor coated over with clotted brown patch like scabs and fading blue drips of other less evils' blood, sparkling at places from shattered refractive layers, spongy intrasteel glistening through here and there. Below it discharged glutinous tar from the trap, all spent oil and shock fluid plus shells and fused filters, burned heat hexes all and all bound for the reprocess, someone else's hand-me-down armor or shoes.
The wasp staggered past us to its own home sweet safety net so I hung the rail in a gentlemanly way and bade our tech meet my goddess in crime at her door. "They have their own lift," the tech observed. My goosebumps agreed, emphasizing the questionable temperature, but a lady must pay her respects. "I don't care," I suggested so we went.
Parked up under those gangly legs adripped with the glow and silver of thirty confirmed kills and gored holes through musculoskeletal tubing told the tale, I held my arms in chivalry as the mandibles underside the shell parted ways and dripped Ari into my embrace along side her own deluge of girl-juice and veined amniogel shreds. Knees buckled as my stomach protested my lack aforethought, but no one could dispute the benefits of a girl pressed against my breasts, slinging her long arms around me. She barfed over my shoulders, warm and phlegmy.
Ari'd pulled her cords in the shell like a good girl, still shook gainst my skin as she stuttered, "fuh- fuh- fuh-" while I jerked my head at the tech who shrugged. Outta towels, well my bad. Leaned us on the railing and thought about tonight, you know the human body's pretty heavy all said? "Your... skin is... freezing!" she articulated, not a request mere observation, but my arms acquiesced nevertheless. We leaned on each other watching black muck drain from the wasp's thorax, standing around naked in a pool of shell vomit. "Yer dumb," she added, hocking up more phlegm. "Now're both shlimy." The other shells crawled in with the tide, blasted with sterilizing powder and steam, various scorpions and mosquitos and spiders seeking succor as we finally made our way down the textured rubber steps.
"Fuckin so hungry," Ari slurred, dribbling blood and saliva while my own stomach answered midst shouts of our squad as they were reborn, crawling free and bloodied from the shell, some still babbled nonsense, tried to move limbs no longer bodied and no shame to them. "You threw up so much, 'spected," I said. Watched Spinning Jenny shaking mucus off his head, snapping teeth together.
"Gonna eat three horses," Ari added. "Fuck potatoes, my dick can fuck a pile of potatoes I'm starving." She shook my shoulder, my legs wobbled in tune, "Clingy bitch." But her hand stayed, fingers digging the tense muscles in my back, mine squeezed her hips. "Casey I want you to hold me down and force feed a gallon of cheese into me." Managed to cross the whole hangar naked, didn't eat shit. Techs hooted appreciating and I tried to bow but just did a cockeyed vanity wave. Brain twitched but kept my cool, remembered I don't see in sonar. "Maybe later tonight," I murmured sotto voce. I cleaned the fresh blood from my ears with a pinky finger.
Lockers, showers, Ari always liked when I soaped and dried her, little bit of a tease, ease of limbs back into bodily limits. She was wiping gunk from her eyes, still going, "I fuck shit swear I'm getting mission reruns in my sleep now. Bullshit we don't hang on to PDN memories, I've deffo had the same shit we throw at the elves in my head at night."
"They're not elves," I said.
"Whatever, magical monster tree bugs, I dunno, are you getting shell feedback?" I was toweling her thick curls, my own short hair dried sweet quick. Threw on those almost paper scrubs. Sexy. "Babe, we all got feedback, I'm not even sure how much me is in my mind."
She grabbed my hair and gave my head a little shake, "Lucky you, I'll fuck your brains out anyway," and blew my hair out my eyes. I grabbed her hand and pushed back, she swooned, we crushed hard as team shelled and molted, in bed or in field. Just a way to anchor, comes with the piloting, nothing new. Lots of pilots fall in twos and fours of strange bedfellow - gets you back in mind after so long parted. "Shut the fuck up," she said to my smile, shoved back, I reeled her in and smiled more til she punched my shoulder. "Fuck you, feed me." We joined the aching crowd clustering to the mess hall.
Slammed our piled trays on a table, minutes later. Scatter Hawk had beat us there somehow, last in the bay, first to the hay per usual. Jelly was still in their hair and they were tearing into a pile of beef flavored protein patties they'd slathered with garlic chili sauce and pickled carrot chips. Shoved it in their blood-smeared face with mixed results twohanding a fork, missed the target 30% of the time. "Glad you're a better shot with the 40," I suggested and they replied, "Slip your own dick sideways fish brisket," spittle and snot sprayed with each word, language not quite in the altogether I guess. I slapped some nerves back into their shoulder and they grunted wetly and appreciatively.
Ari pushed me onto the bench and dropped down, catted up against me and chugged hot sauce from the tube, followed by a fistful of fake bacon and chips dripping with jalapeños. "Thid fit gess weeper effy dah" she spat out with a mouthful of half chewed food, elbowing my ribs in the process, so I slipped my hand over her thigh and gave her a reassuring stim. I was busy with whatever passed for kimchi and pork flavored protein while the table started filling up with other pilots eating an entire day's worth of food in one sitting, trying to feel and speak and touch and taste all at once with mixed successes, all of us trying to pick our nerves up from the sludge being in the shell made out of our bodies. DeeDee shoved a fork at us and said, "Fuck were you, suckin dick? Tank's supposed to keep hits off."
"Yeah, take many hits?" I wiped the dribbled of blood off my lip.
"Like ten! Two in a lung!" He jabbed a beef patty for table wobbling emphasis.
Barely audible Ari whispered, "You're alive aren't you?" Head was drooped under her curled hair near to my level, flying below table radar, still about hit direct to a nerve with DeeDee's bloodshot eyes going big and Hellis beside scooting its flat ass away but none of us got further into what manner of dicks weren't or were sucked (my carefully planned speech - about the pincer move we broke while I was still jamming longways thanks and the relationship of DeeDee's dick being vaporized vis a vis our suckage - wasted). Squad command rudely storming our table with the demand: "Death Claw! Kill Strike!"
Silence resumed in sudden shock as he stood authority thrust chinward, all our eyes tracking the table. He repeated the command, "Death Claw! Kill Strike!" Silence abounded, roamed the plains, handed him a look of weary resignation as his lips, with all the distaste of gingerly dropping a dead rat into a toilet, formed, "Kitty Candy and Raccoon Enchantment," he struggled to recover his momentum but the wind was dead, "I need to speak with you both." Tablewide "ooooo" and Spinning Jenny added "someone's in trouuuble," as we took our ways in the talking wake of the baron of bluster.
Followed breadcrumbs of wet bootie prints and bloodsmeared walls back to the old bay so he could scream at us with an echo. "You semen stains mind explaining what the fuck you were doing back in that shitshow?"
Her nose was bleeding heavily again and I could feel Ari's arm spasm as she pushed close behind me, whispering without sound. I had answers mercifully drowned in a wad of spit and phlegm suddenly dumping into my mouth and down my chin.
"Gods you're all fucking sick. Disgusting. Got nothing to show for it?"
I swallowed another gob of something unpleasantly solid which mercifully shot from my lungs into my mouth giving moments for me to think forward. Rare enough, I treasured them. Figured best not mention what was the thing, blowing the drop bolts early cuz she wanted to try and fire the primary on the wasp from directly above a banyan whilst midair, sans stabilizers, which for the record she hit the thing but caught an extra eighth mile sky above the crate.
"Listen," I gurgled, wiped off my face. ("Listen SIR," he interjected, so I waved indulgently.) "Hurgle. My decoms pinged a hostile lake, looked like a stand of banyans an' a anthill so we bailed at drop beta." Ari's fingers drug out blood from under my paper sleeve, fuck ridiculous she's like eight inches taller trying to make my ass into partial cover.
"Drop beta," he repeated the words to emphasize their unwelcome intrusion to his shriveled brain. I realized the part of my memories with this squad commander's name got sliced in the shell. His face was twitching as bad as mine ever has. "There was no drop beta! There was one site, slash and burn, the end!"
"Well lucky you! We set one up before that swampfire cut our lines up, no thanks necessary please, you know we do it for the love of our jobs."
He looked at the melted up muscle and vatsteel carapace curves of my beloved crab and wasp. Some mirror shaved surfaces, bug blood all black where it congealed. "Fuckin trannies, disgusting, undisciplined- Why we hire so many I don't even-"
"C'mon, you know we're your best guys."
"You're literally my worst guys! If I had anyone else fucked in the head enough to shove into those- those fucking meat grinder abominations, I'd dump your freakshow asses so far in the back beyond you'd fart just for the conversation!"
I elbowed Ari in the gut before she said something dumber than I had in mind. "You know the old saying, a tranny in the shell will give em all hell."
His face snapped shut like crab's load-in maw. Gritted teeth rumbled, "Scrape duty for the next two hours." He shoved us out of the way off to ruin someone else's sex lives, his own probably.
Two hours and two trays of congealed processed protein with vinegar and hot peppers, we trudged down the narrow hall to bunk. The ganglia stopped twitching but it'd been a minute last I had this much elf blood under my nails and my hair reeked of burned polyfilament lubricant.
Ari stretched her arms back because the ceiling was too low for up grumbling, "Don't wanna spec nother fuckin face for a whole shift." I shrugged half drop slept and headed my roomways, brought to heel with her hand on my wrist. "The fuck you think you're going, you promised." Her, lips, just as crusted with blood and snot as mine still a cute pout in dire times.
I gauged my cramping stomach up against that hand and those lips. We hadn't been on-mission for a sec, and fuck for the moment I'm only human and very horny. Still. "You said-"
"People, I mean people." She punched the latch and I let her reel me into her narrow cabin, coming attractions you could call it. I said, "Babe, you gotta pick up your underwear - or anything - sometime." Ari grabbed a bottle of the rancid wine someone was making from cooking oil and caramelized vinegar. She put it against my chest, and put us against the stowage wall, and put her tongue into my throat. Her lips were gunpowder nachos, burning hot, both of us careless to chapped cracked open blood. I took a slug of the wine, with its notes of artificial PTSD raspberry flavor, as she pulled the bunk from the wall. I held up the bottle, tipped it to her lips, spilled it into her mouth, on her face, down her bare flesh and cheap scrubs.
Ari yanked it away and tossed it to the refuse under her fully unused sliver of a desk. I grabbed her by the front of her scrubs, they tore, so I grabbed her arm and fumbled us against the edge of the cot, struggling with my pants and paper booties. "Fucking elastic, now it works?" Ari tried to rip the pants off, snapping a yelp and a shock outta me when she snapped the band on my stomach, so I pushed my hand into her pants and grabbed her dick, hip checked her onto her back on the cot, then furiously yanked both our pants off. We smashed tongues and lips again, her guided by my fingers in her hair, me by her nails on my back, furrows through the grime mottling my acne scarred skin. I clambered onto her, a full tangle of legs and elbows with the sweet serenade of the cot, joints protesting weight and unwelcome thrashing. But I had hold of her now, me and my little growls, her softly repeating "please," as I pressed our hips, tits, lips together. Teased and pinched on and around her nipples, scratched the welcome back real world long her ribs, pulled myself to myself with her rhythmic panting breaths. Shudders passing through from her to me, traded in kind as we reminded our bodies and each other of the dwindling human embers in our chests, the dregs of what once was bright and happy in the world still enough between us to reignite into the shape we suffered through bereft of shells. A minute for our hearts to hammer together, to take in the mossy dried blood scent, the reek of sweat and metal, both of us hard and slick against one another.
When she murmured, we gingerly squirmed our legs and arms around and across each other til Ari lay on her stomach, the pathetic, thin excuse of a mattress rolled under her chest and arms. Lube was spread over her ass and my fingers with wasteful urgency. I worked my hands slowly down her back, gently caressing her sync ports with my thumb, watching them contract and gape with her moans. The lips of them tingled and sent pulses of pleasure through my hands from lingering protonerves. Moved downward to her ass and sliped in one finger at a time, stroking inside her folds, touching her walls, three in and rhythmic spreading and relaxing as she sucked in air, so I leaned up close and slipped my tongue into her neckport, the sphincter closed tight and opened wide and I could feel my ports sympatic response, taste her tasting tasting her. She twisted her pillow into knots and I pushed my cock into her as my fingers slipped out, slowly, feeling her tense up and relax.
Slivers of amniogel squished against my cock in her ass, protonerves shot echos of her through me, flaring and then crushed between us. We pressed ourselves closer, trading pulses back and forth, that one flashing minute of her ass against my hips and one hand on her dick, my face in her hair, one hand pressing into jer back ports, letting her suck the lube from my other hand. It was almost the ecstasy of feeling our minds dissolve into one another. Then we moved again. Hours or minutes, I felt her cum trickle over my hands and wiped it on her thigh as I kept going. Mucus spilled from her contracting back sphincters and my own. Fucking the trace of vat grown life to death until we might have a hope of sleep tonight.
It was humid and reeked of sex, everything about Ari barely fit, except for me, so we stole away these moments from each other to remember and forget. It was nothing in the world, but it was better than dying alone. My leg hung off the bed when we had rolled free of one another, too filthy to breathe and too wasted to shower. My elbow and hip hurt from banging against the wall. Her legs were curled up and her left knee jabbed painfully into my thigh, I couldn't find a place to put my right arm and it was falling asleep but the tingle felt better than trying to stand up. Head was jammed into my neck, couldn't be comfortable, I brushed tangles out of her hair. Muffled, she said, "You smell bad."
"You love it. You missed my pit stank, my demure little corpseflower." She made gagging noises into my clavicle. "I'm gonna have to go back to my nice bunk where the floor is clean, can't stay under my wing forever birdie."
"Whatever," I felt her lips mashed against me with each word, and braced for her to shove me off bed, but her arm just squeezed me closer. "Can so stay f'rever," she sounded almost asleep, her head pushed closer to me and she muttered something like "glove mew bits."
Rolled eyes, but pressed a little closer. "Sure, marinate some new strain of bacteria, they can spatula us out the morning." Unprepared by her momentary snuggle, my ass hit the floor in a pile of unwashed tanktops with a sleep slurred "fuck off."
I left my dignity in the laundry and blew a kiss. "You're gonna hate you in the morning if you sleep that way," she made and grumpy noise and wrapped herself around the rolled up mattress, trying and failing to fit on the metal cot. I tripped a little on the way out the door, on my half naked way to a luxury five minute hot shower to a low bid bargain cold sleep.
Dreams told tales from the shell. Techs all swore in the slice nothing transfers. True enough we lost a short term or three but that's the balance to cost against feedback, they said. Dreams were my four legs crushing earth compact from the drop jump as my decoms rolled over the banyans and bugs slinging spells, my nightmost terrors unfolding from the PDN and flooding their foci and fetishes. In the mindscape ground ran fluid under mechanized polyplastic muscle, the world putty with my gargantuan claws. Chaff launched from deep inside my chambered shell to spark the incoming green, a deathly spray to casual sunblock rads, no mind to armored skin.
Myriad wave of banyans moving, windblown, roots crawling, but there she is, my darting wasp hurling her thousand stings, finding targets in my trackers n hackers through the grassfield bugs. Their blood glows blue, all the work of their spells to brittle silver threads that fall to pieces. She lands and I bathe the hill in freaks, veritable fog of messy tracking til her thorax slides open and erects its throbbing, winged main gun, legs planted, struts in, and a hurricane throws banyan trunks to shreds, clears a canyon of death, and she screams, and I see the branches from the earth tearing her apart, I am slow, bogged in sudden mud, green spears her, the angry earth rips her legs from limb, black ichor and green coolant and I wake up screaming as she shouts for me to go. Clutching the metal edge to my cot, seeking my body again, for a moment unable to hear or see, I exist only as pounding blood and raw nerves til each flexed muscle brings me to human.
Some time passes to rise, rollout hours more hence, I spent time to feel my body, put on shorts and t-top and try to forget the dream and Ari's voice screaming for me to leave her.
I tried to sleep the echo away, then folded my cot and dug the glass bottle of beauties. Rattled a couple hatch-down to flatten it out. Nothing doing, no washing or wiping or jerking off removed the unwelcome night haunt, so I made my soft shod way down to mess.
Rigs like these, there's never quiet. Air cycles, night crew, the odd distant clatter we all always hoped wasn't the seconds off warning of full breach. I paused by Ari's door, halfway to clacking it, but moved counterspin towards mess. No sense both of us losing sleep over one misfire of psyche. Half light in the mess, couple plotters and binders poked listless fried protein and I took my separate peace with a cup of the juice. Sick sweet chemflavor kicked caffeine to my heart and guts enough to winnow away the hours trying a dozen different flavors of artificial spice on artificial food, feeling artificially alive.
DeeDee showed in first after rollout, guy was never not angry at me over some shit, angry at something, put a lot of that through the lines good for us. Hellis always hung round, I specced on their afterhours but never pried the privates. Wouldn't have minded a bunk with either, but oh well. Shadow Jumper and Stepper and Jenny and so on filing their way through gallons of sickening juice and overcooked daybreak. Ari was last in, skulking through the rising shine and din of the mess, caught a tangle of her eyes but crowds were parting our ways.
"See how long you last without that filter, you'd hurl minimal," Jenny kept prodding at Scatter Hawk putting away more forkfulls than any two of us, just grunting back, while DeeDee yelled down the table at Stepper over horrendous and audible farts. I couldn't find a minute to catch Ari's eyes, roll em back and forth with mine, she was digging a hole through her tray.
I spent a frustrated week shipping past her nights. Some asshole I learned was apparently in charge of the squad demanding press-ups and running laps spin wise. Got mad when I said we don't use any muscles and I had to do extra sit-ups, and I threw up and didn't see Ari in the lockers. Tear down on the crab, coming and she was on her grease stained way showers, grimacing. Asleep when I catted around her doors at the odd hours. Anxiety in my spare space left my skin crawling. Ran into her at the psyche cracker and said hey, how you doin? Ari said, "Fine," with those tangled up eyes.
"You okay? I do something you wanna talk?" Whatever was left inside my skull felt like it wanted me to vomit it through my ports. My intestines wanted my skin rippled.
She shook her head. "It's not. You're good, you're good, I just." She shook her head again, tugged the hem of her shirt. Bless I was horny as fuck but just wanted to untangle her eyes, please.
"Listen, I got-"
"Casey!" The skull breaker slid its door up. Check-in time, its glassed eyes and masked mouth glittered, jovial work for a septic system.
"Ari, one second doc. Hey."
Backing down the hall, miming apologies. "I'll see you around Case."
I got a good grade from the psyche. "Very little degradation today," it exclaimed. "Your connectivity must have been quite well balanced! If you maintain this synchronization, we can expect to keep memory and autonomic function nearly optimal. Please ensure you take your supplements to maintain neural plasticity, excellent work!"
It always ignored my questions so I didn't ask anymore but one time I looked up "autonomic" and I was not very excited about the implications. Clacked Ari's door on the way back roomwards, to no result. Shut my door hard, rattled more beauties down my gullet and lay on the floor, tossed aside my psyche chart with all its healthy green and admonishing yellow. Degradation did not feel minimal, I was fragile with worry and my body wanted to fly apart, uncontained by the shell and trembling with skin crawling fear. Nothing flattened, the spin felt too fast, and I wiped confused wetness off my face. I clenched fists to my sides and shook uncontrollably. When would the drop would come?
Rolled out and rounded up came down soon enough against my liking. Marched our asses cross to the bay and posted us up. The squad leader looked uniquely miserable for each syllable of "Kitten Candy! Raccoon Enchantment!" He might actually kill me if he figures out how I changed our call signs.
Ari lurked behind me, sleep deprivation coming off her in radiant heat. I'd woke on the aching floor to rollout chimes, back still sharp from the sleep I should've skipped. She'd been doing teardown some long hours fore we got the callout. "Since you two reliably fuck up anything more complicated than bright colors and shapes, you're doing drop targeting. Three sites, think you can handle it?"
"Probably not, SIR!" I said, and he was not amused, Ari flopped hands affirmatively over the task a drone could do.
"Get synced up because that's the mission. Fuck off, the adult pilots are talking."
Could've argued, didn't, not with the halides in my skull and Ari walking away for the wasp. "Hey! Hey." Caught up around and walked with her. "Lotta radio silence, you good? I mean, girl, you look like shit, but you good?" We reached the lift. My hand was more tentative on her shoulder than my first time trying on a bra. "Are, like, are we? You know, did I say something?"
"Shit, you're fuckin impossible," Ari pulled a smile from an awful place. "Never said nothing except all I wished-" She started climbing. "Ah, fuck off, you know you're good. So good I want... like, fuck. I'm good. Had feedback something fierce this week. Hcch." I walked behind her, hand at her back and lifted, she grabbed my wrist. "C'mon, bitch, gimme a boost up."
The tech up top had the wasp open, long tongue dangling, pink, dripping ready to enfold. The mandibles were an umbrella over us, the whole cockpit slung between a sensaray and fire platform up front and the main gun taking up most of the thorax, flightless wings for short jumps and bristled with beams and missiles webbed into veins and live nerves. Ari stripped off her clothes and I helped her with the mass of thick tubes dangling from the soft flesh of the wasp's underbelly. Gentle with the catheter while she gripped my shoulder, taping the skin contacts on, then slipping the fat red sync cables and their gently writhing filaments into the sphincter along her neck and spine.
"Hey." I looked up from making stirrup hands and Ari's fingers lifted me from kneeling. "You be here when we come back, kay? I don't wanna open this cage if I don't see your ugly mug waiting."
"You fuckin wish," I said. "Believe, I'll be here, I got nothing better to do."
She had that smile, eyes almost past her tangle. "Yeah, what the fuck do I care, you're just, like. Well fuck you, anyway, you better be here, no excuses."
I put my hands together and knelt. "No excuses, bitch." She stepped into me and I hoisted her up until the closing mandibles caught her and pulled her the rest of the way in. The wasp began to breathe, the metal and polymer exoskeleton tightening as it straightened. The multiplicably enfolded legs flexed all their joints. I made my way from Ari's lift to my own, perspective and spin distorted neath my crab all encompassing the view and my world. The stairway to its cockpit was considerably longer, but no aid was needed. Sixfold mandibles waited for me, tubes lay cross the steel grate for my own administration. That same tech still couldn't look as I stripped and strapped. Didn't need help with my ports, just held crab's feelers up and they squirmed their way to the intimate fibers of my spinal cord. I sighed and my ports contracted to pull the connections deeper to the nerve.
The tech muttered, "I can't cope with the freaky shit," stepped off lively. Probably thought I couldn't hear as I wound myself into the folds of the crab's intimacy, and was encased in the dark. The peristaltic folds squeezed and swallowed me into the wet warm depths in the heavy polycombine plate armor of our turret. Impact gel, amniogel, blood and mucus flowed over my feet and hands, the added nerves and plasm more deeply fusing us. I felt my vision shriveling through a tunnel, my gritty eyes black in my skull, each muscle of my limbs unfurled from bones to thread themselves into the limbs of a colossus. My spine grew through my skin to blossom across a carapace and turret, flexed my claws and the wide flat armor wings across my back, felt the hangar through its myriad complex electrical systems and programs running in constant state of adjustment. I could smell the synapses of the crew inside the rig, all the redundant added systems, multiple layers of security, still so vulnerable inside this soft underbelly. My web crackled and fluttered along my body. I could kill everyone around me with a thought and leave only my fellow, slumbering shells for company.
I vacuumed air through my body and filters, hundreds of pounds in a breath. Piece by piece I cut my mind free of its cage, each part of it a point in a web of a thousand stars to guide my way. How had I ever let myself believe I could be human? How could I be when I was this, so much more, the parts of my mind I never before realized were incomplete. Destroy me, I urged the crab. Consume the last of my flesh and bones, and let me free once and for all. I slipped my claws out of their bands and tested link with wasp - with Ari. She vibrated enthusiasm, her stimulant chemicals were flooding overtime, and I selected the clam path of her many input and system indexes to aid her, grant her focus to the still before the burn. The dropship waited and we obliged, neither of us patient for departure and planet fall, once again to taste the alien atmosphere and feel true gravity pull at our tissue and joints.
Countdown for slow minutes, and we jammed to our sync. I felt at peace, each part of my psyche sliced from itself, and we lay distributed across our body, through small cortexes fired with the parts of my consciousness. We ticked through systems and my subconscious night terrors spooled into projectors while my self sense expanded to the decom in preparation for target tracking. Ari and I could feel one another as we synced, her slender body and long legs torquing their secondary legs into alignment. Her deepest horrors became a narrow band of foci, accompaniment to each one of her eight gun placements
We swayed for a minute as the drop slid out through the bay doors til thrusted still in a white noise of rocket and atmosphere. Open doors spilled a flurry of blinding light and boiling air. We cut the cord and took flight. Fission cycled to jets and Ari soard around my less graceful lander module decel, both flirtatious and efficient. Earthshaking on point, I breathed in the beacon for the first drop target, then pulled myself free of deeply fertile soil, felled the odd red thornbush in the way of our determinedly stealth free journey. Ari was more nimble in her travels, caught us both up fair to the prep kit. My decom swept all sides of the range for crevices of organized blue, and looked through my wavspec for tattletale knurled arms and segmented torso trunks.
"Whistle clean," I thrummed to Ari and she slipped up through to the prep barely shifting a twig. My hearts beat in time to her showy work then my pace crushed the evidence in passing. Exultation flooded my glands and fluttered my filtration, we set to the lungs of the future. My claws could lift and move enough whilst Ari's more dexterous complex digits hooked in power, nutrient starter, bacteria loads. All color coded and writ large enough couple pilots couldn't fuck it up, track records notwithstanding. Few hundred and we'd be able to turn the toxic swamp of atmosphere to nearly breathable. Plenty for firsts, let them deal with the messy genes for the twenty-threes to come later. Not us, not our yards and acres of lungs filtered enough to breathe near vacuum. Minutes confirmed the bactomix was good, and we beamed our confirmation.
"Nice and tidy," Ari observed the dirt churned circle round the target. I tasted the ground, messy but starter ready.
"Good enough. It'll be dust in a year anyway. Grab a ride?" We're supposed to march it point to point, no riders no passengers, but it's slow n tedious. She grappled to my exo instead. Put a safe-ish distance from the drop target, hunkered. Earth churned to mud and boiled around my feet as we sank down, I wrenched all I could from dirt rocks clay, sprayed hot waste out my vents, and we exploded into the air on jets carved from living thorns and earth, second drop in record time. Nothing rumbled I could spec but still. "Tastes sour," I trembled contact to contact. Ari slithered down and crouched near my shoulder.
Moments she said, "It's stilled air, might be some action crosswinds." Her wings flexed a bit and we looked for the petrichor druid chemsign. At range I could pick out just the echo of their craft, the sizzle of their spells registered a bare zero zero DV scale. "Specced it, action's noways near," I thrummed between us. "Sus, though, we're ahead of schedule, let's walk it." She affirmed, and we moved like glass, opened the target pack and specced every step.
Thorns still, sharp rocks earth clay uphill still, air still, but the maddening aquamarine fuzz of rain cluttered my sights. Ari flexed her wings on her thorax again, rocket platforms twitched nervously. "There's too much fizzing," she hissed, picking up my discomfort. Gauss guns on her sensary pointed hither and yon. "Fuck it," I thrummed, "Bact's good, bail." She mounted me from behind and we dug in the dirt, boiled and processed and locked. Branches burst up from earthbound as every spec greenlined on me, and I screamed in sickeningly fractured agony.
I could feel my exo cracking where the branches of an Atlas banyan crushed around three of my legs, pain and fluids pouring out of my body. Had to be a twin trunk, at least. Even my spiracles bled. Jagged shapes stung my left claw and numbed one of my injured legs. I could hear Ari's screeching and felt her weight shift from me to the ground. My specs were greened out in swampfire, I could taste the ozone and my own charred exo, but I was blind.
"I can't scope!" Ari's panic crackled and echoed through my body, fuled the rush of toxic stims and lit up my heat sinks bright from overclock. "I'm on it, I've got guidance," I lied, throwing a narcofilter into com. I dialed in broad spec and fired a wave of chaff, unspooled PDN for mass nightmare. Swapped high-speed into UV infra sonic organize scope range til I could line out the elves. Ari's screeches spiraled in time to hits I felt in my neuron clusters, dirt and rocks rattled from being skywards. Contermanded a second hit of stims in my system, cooled collect.
Instant recovery between the chaff and PDN. The stinging cold geometry faded its intensity on my exo. I experienced the reward of disrupted Atlas' soundscreams enduring the mortifying ordeal of being scoped. Shortburst the dial range to Ari. Caught backflow of her relief. Found the seconds we needed to move.
The Atlases were over halfway out of the soil, still partly wrapped their heavy branches over Ari and me. Quad trunks, fuck. Druid support, double fuck. The fully exposed organizing casters ways off, spec a kilo or two, but their alien decoms were holding up to the PDN. I pulled back to Ari and my pain receptors shut off the instant my legs twisted and shed broken exo like ice, steel grinding itself each movement. I checked her stat. Half a leg and one wing had been torn off. Her body was coated with slick black and green fluid, mixed with white foam. Her secondary leg was intact and functional, but I could see six bad hits from those light spears.
I cut loose a second wave of chaff, narrowed for the type-beta shieldworks from the druids, scattered an arch of green spears - I put my wings and claws out front to do their job just in time to take the secondary hit of jagged blue geometry. My back legs twisted excessively past their limit. The tri-polyplate claws held, mostly, some smoldering layers blasted free and others melted. I tight focused neural disruptors at the Atlases, cut more chaff, joyed at their screams of fear and agony. "Ari, my target." She swayed but unfolded her stabilizer struts, hit one of them with three rockets, a particle shot, and a full sec from the gauss, frosted it's decom and tore up the left half of its body. Glistening dark blue blood exploded across the other two and it laid out, alive but no threat. Heat fins spread wide open white hot underside her wings, her legs. "Casey your fuckin legs they-"
I flickered low beams at the druids, didn't connect but gave em a minute to think, redirected a broad neural disrupt at our six, more encouraging screeches, I filled the crab with the worst of my mind to saturate multiple kilometers in the PDN of my own fears and nightmares. "Ari, not now, cover."
Even on a wing and half a leg she was a beautiful flower of agony, spread of rockets, heavy beams, blistered depslugs streaking from her to seek the druids proved weakest by their alchemical conversion to bright blue explosions of blood and bone. Steamed heavy off her sink. The second Atlas was fighting up through my disrupt. I hit it with a PDN flare mix, and didn't catch the green blue spellwork shield crackling twixt its bark til I had to duke it.
The Altas caught a claw with one limb, put two more into my main body, right center, and I was overwhelmed by the vomit stench of my tissue and exo and endo rupturing, polymuscles shredded, but I boiled my feet in deep with stage one for jump, and got my other claw on its middle trunk. My com was choking garbled but I said, "Ari-" before I felt the left rear third joint sheer and snap.
She was to me before I could waver with her forelegs' high beam up to max in its face. Light hotter than stars burst the banyan into three flaming pieces, sheer through the trunk, bloodless, charred beyond recognition in a second. She buzzed me. "We can't stay." The last of the Atlases was pulling a highdef organized multiplier out of the earth. Looked like pine tree trunk but carried in a single limb. I specced another Atlas closing. One good HDOM shot would dust my armor. One bad shot would vaporize Ari. "You're right."
I tried to spool up, but the PDN was dead, so I blasted chaff along the ground in front of the Atlas. Give it some hot shrapnel to work through, dialed the rest for max dispersal, and cut three quarters skyward. "Grab a lift," I snarled and she was on me. "And set your main."
The earth churned and my legs threatened to give, but held. "Case. I tried that last week, rec? I couldn't hit shit."
"Yeah. You tried it. We didn't." I hit the jump, we caught sky.
Ari's limbs folded around my body, and her remaining claws clamped, support struts pierced my exo secondary limbs unfolded to add more stability. She shifted the main rifle forward from inside her thorax and opened the remaining wing, heat vents fully extended, coolant spraying out of her wounds as it pumped triple time through her sinks. Her thorax flexed heavy with breath and the gun's wiring and nerve rigs flushed the scent of her excited musk around us. I wrapped my three remaining legs up over my body and clung to her, spun us with my wings on our axis. We had a beautiful aerial view of the remains of our own ambush, our legs fallen close like hands of dying lovers.
The main gun of the wasp would not be possible to see if we had human eyes. A three stage system requiring the finest care with aiming and multiple stabilizers to the firing platform ensuring a clean hit, combined with full heat dispersal for blowback. It would break up shield and decoms, disruptors and polyplate, followed instantly by a particle beam depslug mixture.
I wrapped my claws over her cockpit segment and she fired. The slug obliterated the Atlas, its multiplier detonating and spraying organized green spears haphazardly with blue geometry. The drop target went up and threw a cloud of concentrated bacto over what looked like eight kilometers. I saw the beam digging a canyon through the earth moments before the bacteria and debris blacked the site.
We were thrown, I lost a second leg and both wings. Deaf to coms. My chaff clattered off us, shredded our armor. The full thorax and both of Ari's rear legs were torn away by recoil and a furnace blast of overheating power couplings as I held fiercely, even when my left claw was cleanly severed by the last flash of the beam and my main body punctured and boiled by her shrapnel. I realized I wasn't deaf, I simply was unable to hear anything except Ari screaming and lost valuable seconds - nothing to see but sky and only rushing air over our spinning bodies.
I jetted waste from my secondary vents, they spat angrily but caught air. Risked it, held Ari with my only two legs and put my claw between us and the freight train rush up on drop target three. I hoped enough was left of her to hear me shout, "Impact Impact Impact!"
The ground was very wide and very fast and black. It was-
Nothing. Black.
Casey. Casey. You need to get up.
"Casey," Ari's hiss was a near inaudible comm. "Casey please... I can't move my legs."
I specced, half blind, dialed it through. There was a flicker of distant green. Move. I felt joints and plastic muscle, raw tissue and white foam dig the earth, I moved in a little circle. The drop ship was waiting - no pilot, just auto for a grunt mission in and out.
"I'm up," I lied to Ari. She hissed, "I know you aren't." I specced myself. One leg could move, claw somehow intact, thank you polyplate. Other legs just partial joints, trailed their hydraulics and burned nerves. Quarter chopped off the rear platform. "Am so," I thrummed and put my claw in the ground, levered. Slid my partial legs underneath and my one good one up. "I'm up." I started pushing myself along the earth.
Felt like dragging the big protein drums on kitchen duty, couldn't lift much as rock myself back and forward one side at a time. I found what was left of Ari.
"How's it look," she hissed. One of her two remaining legs was shattered in half a dozen places, congealed foam doing nothing for the fluid leaks. Her other leg might last. Sensary might even be salvageable. There were holes gaping in her deformed cockpit, gel and blood oozing through cracks. "Looks great," I thrummed. "You lost so much weight."
Her laugh wheezed. "You got one good leg Ari, I need you to hitch a ride." She fumbled in the mud and found the tattered edge of my exo, dragged herself half onto what was left of my main body, and I pushed. Her voice was distant now, "Hey Case, remember that night fight, we jumped a bunch of elves with a flashblind."
Just a few meters. "Yeah, pretty funny. Guess they remembered us." She wheezed again, her comm was rattling. "And that time we used ice for heat sig?" My claw hit metal. I strained on the loading ramp without traction. "That was pretty good too, yeah." Fuck it. I grabbed one of the less important control struts and heaved, pulled. Felt my innards and Ari slither along metal, almost home. One more pull. "Hey Casey, hey. Remember when the fuckin elves ambushed us with our same dumb ideas and you thought I should shoot em on the jump."
I punched the recall code, the hatch cranked shut, dumped the tangled mess of our bodies into the drop bay. Acceleration crushed us. "Yeah Ari, that wasn't the best idea ever." The rig loomed up. "Right Ari? I'm an idiot." The comm was quiet.
We were in the bay and I was in a pool of sludge. I could feel my legs and arms and bruises and my own real blood on my face. I could walk and and almost stand, crawling clambering falling down the lift stairs before the tech could say anything. He slipped after me, clutched railing and tried to keep his footing in the mucus as I went sidewinding to our sad and shattered shells, tech prying open the jaws of Ari's with hydraulic levers.
I shoved through as the seal cracked, reek of poisoned atmos and stagnant amniogel, the snap of bone and it fell open, pouring Ari onto the hanger floor, washed up against me. I was on my knees, she was in my arms. Bone showed through one of her broken legs and a bloody hole in her ribs frothed blood. Her bottom lip split so bad I could see her shattered teeth sticking through it. Blood from her ears, nose, eyes, whole body a contour map of bruises.
Ari's one good eye cracked and she gurgled wet and rough, "You look like shit, Case." She spit blood.
"Told you. No excuses bitch."
"Fuck. No exchs." Nitrile gloved hands pulled us apart, and meds were shoving tubes into her, slapping dermals on her. They had a stretcher. Someone shone a light in my eye, I felt the cold slap of a dermal on my shoulder blade. "No excuses," I slurred as loud as I could. He said, "You shouldn't be standing up." I didn't know if Ari could hear. "I'm gonna be waiting!" They hit me with another dermal and goodnight.
It was like that for awhile, before I could go back to my bunk. Lot of debrief, I got a commendation, which mostly meant some extra cash in my account if I lived to spend it. Some looks. DeeDee came by and said "Mad respect." Scatter stopped in with some nearly not paint thinner whiskey. Squad leader came in and chewed me out. Then some days in my smaller, worse bed. I lay on my clothes and punched back painkillers and beauties, then got out of my space and flipped the latch on Ari's room to get into hers.
It looked the same. Laundry unlaundered, whiffs of fermented sweat and sex, crumpled up wrappers for hot sauce, thermalprint hentai, congealed shampoo and soap blocks. I held a tanktop to my face and inhaled, poked around her trash listlessly til I saw a scrap of print. Her last psyche, pages of red and yellow, warnings cautions, parts of it printed red on black. I banged out of her room with it clenched in my hot fist, storming along the counter spin corridors to Ring 2.
Medical. Deep breath. I pushed the door in and gave Ari the biggest smile I could muster and she asked, "Oh no. What's wrong," from where she was still ensconced in tubes to keep her lungs working while the biogels slowly closed her skin over. "What do you mean, what's wrong," I forgot to separte teeth for talking. Maybe a couple weeks before she was walking wounded. "You got a smile like you dropped a battery pack on your foot."
She looked better with her lips stitched back together. Her new front teeth were steel. I blinked and shook and pursed my lips so I wouldn't snarl when I unfolded the psyche chart she'd left balled up under her desk. Needles prickled along my feverish forehead. Tried to find words as she shifted her eyes away from mine and just said, "Oh. That."
I dropped it on her stomach. "Why? You could've- It... Why?" I've been called poetic in my time.
Ari started to bite her lip then stopped. Rubbed her eyes with her palms. "Ow. Everything hurts - Casey, what are you gonna do when you get outta here?"
"Because you can- Huh?" I blinked several more times rapidly. "Uh, I dunno. Little place with some twenty-threes? Maybe a dog? Nothing too special, just wanted a shot at like... living yeah?"
"But you think about it and... y'know, you see something?"
"Yeah, I guess, I mean a little. Who knows?"
She shut her eyes. "Well I didn't see anything." Squeezed her eyes. "I didn't think I'd- Case, I didn't come here for a shot at living. I... didn't see that. That idea." Tears slipped out of her eyes and she grimaced, shoved her hands against them. "I never planned to live that long," her breath hitched.
I didn't know what to do with my hands, whether to move over to her, or what. I nodded to her closed eyes, felt stupid. "Ari, I'd, uh, like it if you did."
She let out a long breath and opened damp eyes. "That's what, I mean, I met you. It's been good, and like. I realized I had started thinking about it."
"Thinking about it?"
"About being alive. Somewhere there, I mean, like, I thought about that I might want a future if it had you in it. And I guess I freaked about the idea it might not happen, and I wanted to keep you somewhere safe where I wasn't going to mess that up."
I folded my arms. "Ari, I fucking swear." She looked back at me. "I don't care how much it hurts, move the fuck over right now, I'm gonna hug you so bad you break another four ribs."
She slid a bit, and I managed to half lay in the bed around the IV tubes. I managed not to break her ribs. Big, stupid and hot tears dripped down my cheeks and nose as I squeezed, then grabbed her hands in mine. "Every day you wake up. I'll give you that future. You might not see yourself and that's okay because you'll see me, and I hope that's enough."
"I kinda kinda love you bitch," I clutched her tight. She kissed me, stitches rough against my lips, and smiled as she did. "You can stay," she said.
"I'll stay." And I did.
195 notes · View notes
asuyaka · 3 months
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Hello Arlan! I love you’re writing so much and was wondering if you could write someone with Aki from CSM since i see there isn’t a ton requested on here! What i was thinking was Aki and Reader(FtM or whatever feels best!) Having lots of little romantic moments together. Doing your chores everything like that and once they finish relaxing on the couch and they open up to one another about current life struggles and grow more and more intimate that Reader and Aki go into the bedroom and slowly but romantically have one another in the sheets. I love domestic like fics and i would love to see how you interpret this. I give you full reign to choose what happens but that’s just what i give to start an idea. I hope you are healthy and well!!
★ - m'was kinda strugglin' on if it should be FtM or cis... ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)  also!! CSM hype Reze 's gettin animated ໒꒰ྀི >ヮ<꒱ྀི১
☆ - Aki Hayakawa x FtM! Reader!
♡ - m'cigarette addicted boyfie...໒꒰ྀི ๑>///<๑ ꒱ྀིა | slight manga spoilers but no names are dropped!! | wowie, this one took a lottt outta me! but, anythin' for you guys!! merry (late) christmas ૮₍。´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`。₎ა
✪ - amab terminology, dom Aki/sub reader, praise, dacryphilia, nipple play, fingering, overstimulation, dirty talk, uses the term 'hole' and 'dick/cock' for readers genitals, slight degradation/mocking, creampie(s), n implied aftercare!!
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Aki Hayakawa’s children are a handful. There is no other way to say it. However, you could say you enjoyed it whenever they got rowdy. After killing the Control and Gun Devil and everyone (surprisingly) making it out alive, Power and Denji have been inseparable ever since.
Constantly bickering about who’s getting the larger portion of juice, running around the house at fuck off O’clock yelling something about how Martians are going to invade Japan with tin foil shaped like a cone on their heads, or having… barf contests for some odd reason.
Then there was you Aki, and some girl Kishibe gave you after the control devil incident. Aki insisted on moving since the house was too big for five people and an absurd amount of dogs. He also pulled Denji and Power out of Public Safety and enrolled them in school when he figured out they were nowhere near the proper academic level for teenagers— and helped them with their homework whenever they got it.
The girl was always close to Denji or with the dogs. She was nice, a little freaky when you realized she was the new Control Devil, but you soon realized she was nothing like the past one. 
She embodied a fresh new slate, a perfect addition to the family slowly building itself back together after almost losing important people in your lives.
“I’m back, I got groceries so we could make dinner when they’re back from Kishibe’s,” Aki says, accompanied by the automated chime that sounded through the house every time the door opened.
Donned in a plain apron jacket, Aki’s clothes, and house slippers, you greet him at the door with a kiss, an excited smile adorning your face. “Welcome back! I uh, wrote you something.” 
Aki cocks an eyebrow slightly as his hands snake to settle on your waist, breathing in the scent of his shampoo on your hair. “What is it, baby?”
Walking towards the living room–albeit a bit awkwardly with the addition of your boyfriend behind you– you pick up a note from the table, an excited but shy look on your face as you hand him the paper.
Aki silently reads it behind you, remaining expressionless until he finishes. “You’re so sappy, you know that?” He breathes out, peppering kisses against your cheek. 
A warm flush spreads through your body, slightly pushing his face away from yours. “I need to finish doing the dishes, wait on the couch?” 
Aki kisses your cheek once more before nodding, the warmth around your waist leaving as he sits on the couch.
Immediately missing the added heat against your body, you do the dishes with added haste. Not too fast for Aki to pick up on what you were doing, but fast enough for your hands to gain slight ice burn.
You take your apron off and hold it, placing it next to Aki’s. It’s a slight, domestic feature that makes your heart swell up fondly. Aki’s blue eyes catch yours as he pats a seat next to him on the couch.
He wraps his arms around you, pushing your back against his chest and intertwining your legs. Moments like this make you feel lucky. Lucky to have Aki alive and your kids (?) alive too.
“What was it like being in public safety?” You ask absentmindedly, adjusting your position so you’re laying on top of him, chest against chest.
Aki’s eyes widened, his face slightly contorting in confusion. “What’s with the sudden question?”
“Well,” You shrug, intertwining his hands in yours. “You quit and I just got a little curious since you know… all that happened. I guess I was scared you and the kids wouldn’t come back to me.”
He stares at you and sighs, pulling you closer and putting your face in the crook of his neck. “I know, I’m sorry. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly good either. People died, a lot, and a part of me guessed that one day I’d die before I ever got a chance to find people to care about.”
“There was Himeno, of course, but that wasn’t the same.” Aki sighs, a vague image of his friend flashing through his face. “Ironically, it was when I met those two dumbasses and you that I think my life… turned around?”
“I was forced to take care of Denji and Power, obviously, but the added responsibility of taking care of two people who don’t know how to do long division made me care for them in a reverse psychological type way.”
Aki’s hands are under your shirt, drawing images on your bare back. “Then I met you and changed even more. I never thought I’d be able to have a significant other, not to talk about loving someone romantically.”
Aki isn’t good with expressing his emotions, and even though he’s millions of light years better than when you first met him, hearing him outright say that you changed him, for the better, makes something swell inside you. 
“‘n I’m the sap.” You say in feigning annoyance, pressing a kiss on his neck. You feel his body shudder as the hands on your back dig into your skin. “Missed you.”
You move to straddle his waist, a warm flush spreading across your body. “Aki,” a shiver runs down your spine as you suck in a breath. Like a broken record, you repeat yourself. “Aki,”
Curling your fingers into his shirt, you pull him forward and push your lips into his. 
You feel him move, his chest pressing against yours as he pushes you to lay your back on the couch. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, the smoothness of his topknot under your fingertips. He tastes tangy, addictive. His tongue swirls around yours, a tiny whine forces its way through your throat.
Pulling away, Aki plays with the bottom of your (his) shirt. “Can I take this off?” 
“Yes, Aki please,” You whisper shakily, watching his eyes darken as he swiftly takes your shirt off, throwing it on the floor somewhere and burying his face in your neck. 
Soft whines emit from your mouth, hands going to remove the hair tie holding his hair up. His dark blue hair cascaded past his neck and rested on his shoulders. Aki’s hands follow the soft arch of your back and leave indents of his teeth, accompanied by bruises forming on your neck.
Electricity pools in your stomach and flows straight to your dick. Aki spreads your legs with his big hands, his mouth nibbling on the tip of your nipple. “Bedroom?” You whisper breathlessly, remembering none of the people you and Aki are acquainted with know how to knock (except for Angel).
He groans and picks you up as if you weigh nothing, tossing you over his shoulder and opening the door to your shared bedroom with his foot. He puts you on the bed and readily restarts his ministrations.
You watch him play with the waistband of your boxers as his teeth graze the tip of your dick through the fabric. Your legs instinctively come to close, separated by his head. Aki grunts, his hands pressing into the flesh of your thighs, prying them apart and keeping you still. “Stay still.” 
Sounds of protest bubble up but the second you feel him lick your cock, it shuts you up instantly. You won’t admit how hard seeing Aki between your legs makes you. Your hole clenches around nothing as slick pools between your thighs. 
“Aki,” You mutter, your hands gripping the sheets. “Just take them off already.” 
“Are you telling me what to do?” Aki tuts, feigning annoyance as he grabs your thigh so you’re focused on his face. There’s a bare hint of flush on his cheeks, pressing against the crease where your thigh and crotch meet.
It’s like a mental game. Aki knows what he’s doing, how to play with your body to get the exact reaction he needs, and you were dumb to think he wouldn’t use that against you. “No… m’sorry,” You sniffle, fighting back the tears that you weren’t aware of bubbling up.
It’s embarrassing, the hold he has on you. All it takes is a few kisses and some manhandling to have you whining under him like a slut.
Nonetheless, he hikes your hips up and finally takes your boxers. A small gasp leaves your lips as Aki forces your legs above his knees, now properly sitting on the bed. You can feel the swell of his bulge on your ass. There, so close to where you need it the most.
“Open,” Aki’s fingers slip into your mouth, pulling at the corners with a smile on his face. He plays with your tongue, obscene slurping sounds forcing their way into your ears. 
 It’s not like you’re trying to be loud, but it’s so quiet that you’re practically forced to hear it. Every shortened breath, every whine, words of encouragement every time Aki calls you a good boy, his good boy.
You whimper when his fingers leave your mouth, a messy trail of spit connecting them. His free hand spreads you apart as he scoots down, a glob of spit landing on your cock and sliding down onto your hole. 
His fingers find your hole instantly, rubbing against your dick in slow circles. “Aki—ah!” There’s a steady heat building in your abdomen, tight and needy. 
“Hm? Something you wanna tell me, baby?” He pushes in a knuckle at a time, just below where you need it. You bite your lip, from the slight burn and the tease of pleasure. 
You try to speak– tell him what you need but another finger pushes in and you're interrupted by your hiss. It felt a bit premature, it has been a while since you and Aki had sex so you aren’t as open as you normally would be. Aki leans in for a kiss. It’s demanding, and greedy as he takes your breath away, biting at your lips. Aki’s fingers begin sissorcing, a tiny mewl of surprise leaving your throat. 
It takes a minute for the pain to leave completely and the pleasure to take over, g-spot hit dead on. “Oh–” You sigh, fingers holding onto Aki’s shoulder as he breathes your air, foreheads pressed against each other.
“Aki,” You’re out of breath and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. It’s humiliating, embarrassing, yet it feels so good. Aki moves down, his teeth leaving a trail as he settles on your left nipple. He circles the areola. His teeth nip and bite the bud, sucking as his fingers move faster. 
It’s good, mind-breakingly so, but it hurts. There’s too much stimulation at once and you’ve completely forgotten everything other than Aki. How Aki feels, what he tastes like, your entire mind is Aki, Aki, Aki.
“Feels good, right baby boy?” Aki coos, his thumb circling the tip of your cock with a newfound haste. “Feels– Aki, m’gonna–” You nod frantically, eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face as you cum.
“Shh,” Aki kisses your cheek, licking the salt off your face. He pulls away and you hear the sound of clothes rustling. He’s still going?
You can’t bring yourself to move, not when your body feels so limp. So you sit there with your eyes closed and wait.
A beat passes, then two, three, and Aki still hasn’t slipped inside. You are forcing your eye to peek open. Aki stares back at you, eyes lidded and breathing heavy. “Y’look so pretty baby, all perfect f’me, right?”
Aki oozes confidence that he knows he has. The power he has over you, to break with merely his fingers evokes an emotion in you. 
The head of his cock presses against your hole, using your cum to slide over your cock. Again, and again, and again, until you’re hard and whining for him to fuck you. “C’mon baby, where are your manners?”
You sniffle, swallowing down a whine. “Please, Aki.”
“Good boy.” He smiles, and the slow grinding of his cock against yours finally stops as he slips inside you. Aki is big, even with prep it takes a bit to get used to. 
“Y’feel so good baby,” Aki says, his voice catching on a grunt. “So perfect f’me, so fuckin warm too… shit…” The sound of Aki bottoming out embarrassingly almost brings you over the edge. 
“A-Aki—”
Aki’s cock hits your g-spot. Whatever you were about to say gets replaced by a whiny moan. Your eyes snap close and your toes curl, more tears falling down your cheeks. 
Aki still doesn’t let up, his hips snapping against your ass hastily. You and Aki have never fucked like this, at least you two haven’t gone past one mutual orgasm before. It feels weird, good– but your body burns up and you physically can’t think. 
Your cock stirs, pleasure building in your abdomen again. It sends jolts through your body, pleasure building up, and up, and up and—
Aki’s thumb rubs the tip of your cock and that’s all it takes for another orgasm to wash over you. Your whole body trembles and your back arches. 
“That’s two,” Aki says, not showing any sign of slowing down. “I want you t’count okay? C’mon baby tell me how many that was.”
Your voice cracks, and Aki is still fucking you. “Two! s’two!”
Aki grins. “There’s my good boy.”
You’re sure you look stupid, crying on Aki’s cock, rambling about how it’s too much, that you can’t cum anymore. You’re still so sensitive but Aki doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t let up; his thrusts are deep, overwhelming. 
Your body sags when you feel Aki’s hips stutter, thrusting once, twice, before spilling inside you with a ragged breath. Heat fills your hole, filling you up and leaking past your perineum. 
“My boy, my good fuckin’ boy aren’t you?” Aki kisses you, his hand at the back of your neck that’s adorned with bruises. Everything seems to melt into each other as you try to kiss him back, even out your breathing but you just can’t.
Then, Aki’s cock rehardens inside you, even though it’s barely been a minute. Your eyes widen, trying to look down but all the wind is knocked out of you the second Aki moves his hips.
“Ah! Aki— s’too much too much too—”
Aki grabs your chin, squeezing your cheeks as he forces you to look at him through blurry vision. “T’aww, s’okay baby, just lay there n’take it, okay?” He says in a nasally, prissly voice.
In addition to Aki fucking your hole and still stroking your dick, he takes your nipple in his mouth. Licking around it, biting the bud and sucking the skin. Your throat hurts from all the whining and moaning you’re doing but you can’t help it. Not when he’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow, pushing you well past overstimulation. 
Aki’s mouth burns on your skin, raising your body temperature. Everything is hot, too much. Then, tugs on your nipple with his teeth, slightly increasing the arch in your back. 
With the abuse of stimulating all your erogenous zones, you feel another knot forming inside you. Even though everything feels too good, your tears stain the sheets, and electricity zips down every bone in your body. You’re so close, so close—
“Remember to count,” Aki warns just as another orgasm washes over you. For a second, you think you blacked out. Your senses dull and your eyes see nothing but darkness. Your voice tethers over the edge of a sob, your body still convulsing. 
“C’mon baby, what number are we at?”
“Three! It’s three— Aki, can’t anymore s’too much—”
He interrupts you with a harsh snap of his hips. His hand pauses just before it goes back to your weeping cock. The stretch of time physically hurts, because you don’t know what he might be thinking. “I think you can give me one more, hm baby?”
“Aki!” You try to shout, but your throat won’t let you speak over a whisper. “Can’t, won’t, it can’t, can’tcan’t—”
“Shhh, s’okay baby,” Aki kisses your cheek, using one of his hands to pull you down on his cock. “Just let me do all the work okay? I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”
Realistically speaking he’s always been doing the work so his words don’t hold much value. You don’t think that if you’re thinking of anything at all.
Aki’s hips begin to move again, his mouth latches onto your nipple and you don’t think you can breathe anymore. Continuing to rub your cock, he takes two fingers and adds them into your hole, with his cock still inside. 
“Aahh! A-Ak—”
“I know baby, shhh, s’okay…” Aki says, pleased. The noises coming from your mouth are absolutely filthy, they sound straight out of a porno, vulnerable and embarrassing. His fingers and his cock move at an uneven pace, making it hard to tell left from right and up from down.
There’s no way you can cum again, it’s impossible. Even then, Aki still keeps going. There’s an unforgivable assault on your g-spot, the tip of his thumb toying and playing with the slit of your cock. 
The pleasure is there, unmistakably so, but it hurts. It’s too much but not enough, everything is hot, too hot and—
“Can’t can’t can’t—”
“S’why I’m here, baby.” Aki’s voice sounds so distant even though you know he’s right there.
You shake your head furiously. “It won’t– Aki it can’t,” you cry, snot dripping down your nose.
Your skull melts into nothing when you feel that knot swell up inside you, it hurts, it's too much, it can’t. “There we go, you’re close, right baby?”
You feel like reality splits the second you cum on Aki’s cock. It dribbles out pathetically, borderline dry. Aki’s hips stutter as he cums inside you, his second time.
Yet, he still has the stamina to force you to face him. “Number?’”
“F…four,” Your voice breaks as you sniffle. You missed Aki’s hands on you, even if it was something small like this.
He pulls out and immediately goes to cradle you when he sees the tears only increase in intensity. “Baby? Hey, did I do something wrong? Does anything hurt?”
You can’t find it in yourself to talk, but you have to reassure him somehow. So you shake your head, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. “Can you tell me anything? Color?” There’s worry in his voice and you can’t help but love him more. Even if he just fucked you and your brain stupid. 
Weakly, you hold up one finger, hoping that is enough to get the message across. He looks confused for a brief moment before all the worry washes off his face. “But seriously, why are you crying?”
“L…love you, s’muh…” Your voice is nothing less than grainy like you’ve been a chain smoker for twenty years.
Aki’s expression softens as he places a kiss on your cheek, using his thumb (not soiled with your cum) to wipe the tears off your cheeks. You try to stay awake so Aki doesn’t have to clean up alone.
You’re sure you were awake, but you don’t exactly remember getting into the warm sheets with a fresh new set of clothes on as Aki spoons you.
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throwaway-yandere · 2 years
Text
"No." (Yandere!Albedo/Reader)
A/n: I got sick but it just so happens I live off of spite so I finally finished this fic. Most characters are a bit/really obnoxious here. Also, the reader's state of mind and relationships with friends are unhealthy so if you're sensitive to the following CW please skip this fic. (If you're wondering why the fic is... Like this then here's me rambling here)
Unreliable synopsis: You kissed the most popular professor on campus. (Subtle yan!fic)
gn!reader
Cw: yandere, unhealthy friendship dynamics with clingy!sucrose & other characters, student/teacher relationship implications, the reader is an eccentric "class clown" with implied mild impostor syndrome, and small mentions of sexual harassment. (I'm not a medical professional so please take the impostor syndrome warning with a grain of salt– just added it in case this type of content is triggering. This isn't smut and it doesn't fully explore the last topic, but still please reach out for support if you are a victim of sexual harassment. Title IX is a very real thing.)
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"Does accidentally kissing someone cross a line in Title IX?"
That sentence alone makes you sound incredibly criminal out of context, and it doesn't get better with it either.
Your long-time friend, Sucrose, became fixated on setting you up with a romantic partner after the breakup you had three months prior. 
It was not a heart-wrenching tale, if anything, the entire relationship you had with Arataki Itto plays off as a major joke. You dated the man simply because you thought his impulsive behavior was entertaining, and oddly enough, he found your unpredictable temperament alluring. You just never anticipated that the idiot will buy an overpriced toy drum when you asked him to get a coke and "get something for yourself as well."
It's no surprise you permitted him to spend your money. But that wasn't even supposed to be a gamble. That was just an instruction, and he failed HARD. Arataki "I-swear-you-didn't-say-Pepsi(???)" Itto... got you orange juice. 
Breaking up was a huge relief. Instead of adopting a façade of the partner he wants, you have at last discovered the temporary freedom to choose over what you enjoy. For a while, they didn't treat you like a court jester; instead, they gave you the tender care you'd reserve for a helpless person.
Sucrose was distraught when you two decided to stop everything after Itto wasted most of your money by falling for Dori's scam. She appeared to be more affected than you two. Sucrose must have thought of you two as "the Golden pair" since she is naturally fascinated by research about personalities and relationships— more notably the 16 personality types. Seeing you two break up was an antithesis to her defense on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator test. You broke up due to (financial) differences, and there's no unreliable science needed to learn that.
Here lies the problem: Sucrose refused to give up.
You've heard concerns about her callous demeanor in person and online. Some people thought it endearing that you have a friend who genuinely cares about you, while others consider her nagging to be a burden, and rightfully so.
You felt icky after accidentally seeing her list of candidates, yet you can't bring yourself to make a strong effort to stop her. Sucrose lost two of her best friends last year in an accident, and you are essentially the only support that's keeping her sanity in check, but sometimes you feel as though you are risking your health on the line. She had written down some questionably extensive background on every man and woman she thought was worthy... You don't even want to know why Ajax is on that list.
No matter the reason, that didn't stop Timaeus from barfing out his triple-layered peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"W-WHAT on EARTH did you DO this time?!"
Sure is tough being a menace to society.
Hah... You're already on the brink of a mental breakdown and yet you still kept making self-deprecating jokes.
"WHAT'S with THE reaction?" You asked, casually copying his tone before you sank to your seat. "It's JUST a QUESTION."
"We know how you work, (Y/n)!" He knew you were purposefully trying to rile him up, yet Timaeus slammed a fist on the table in exaggerated disgust. "You did the EXACT same thing last time. You asked us 'hOw bAd woUld iT bE iF I datEd a gaNgstEr' and then you fucking did it anyways! What the hell– heck."
Timaeus's outburst was audible throughout the entire cafeteria, yet nobody seemed to care. The other people you shared the table with, Ying'er, Collei, and Tighnari all cast curious glances at you. It's not as though they have never heard of your misadventures before, frankly, whenever something happens they avidly observe it. You're all inseparable because of your shticks. However, apart from Sucrose, Dorian had been awol from your friend group, and it is no less due to the headline you're about to announce.
None of them took you too seriously, which they should have, given the nature of Title IX. As "good" friends, they should've worried over your safety and overall wellbeing. 
You could feel tears of fear and frustration swell up in your eyes.
Yet you couldn't be mad at them for reacting this way.
You're the chaotic link– the friend that didn't quite fit in– assigned to the role of being the "funny one." It started with a single joke until you unintentionally formed a false sense of confidence that you're something bigger than what you are. Everyone thinks you're hilarious, and you're afraid of disappointing them. You weren't trying to be funny most of the time, they just want someone to laugh and point at. Even though you are academically above average yourself, without your carelessness and gambles, you practically have nothing to offer this otherwise brilliant population.
Timaeus may not always deliver the right answer in his alchemy test papers, but he's never wrong about you even if he's drunk off of two bottles of Death After Noon. You recall Timaeus specifically in that instance because he was right; you have no future and you won't amount to anything.
In short, your image dilemma can be summed up by something you said high out of your mind in front of the mirror: "I think I accidentally gained an ego after joking about being hot and sexy one too many times, and now I'm being punished for my hubris." (You're never asking Lisa for philosophy book recommendations on Sundays ever again.)
And if it's true that you have no future and that you're nothing more than an insecure fraud, then you might as well come clean right now and let your "friends" break their ties. It doesn't matter, not anymore.
Ying'er laughed heartily. Contrary to her lover, she loves it whenever you act like this since it makes her normally composed and optimistic boyfriend snap and curse... You would know because she constantly divulges pointless details about how "hot" it was in private messages. And you two weren't even that close when she first did that. But now she's practically your unofficial attorney with how many times she played devil's advocate. You'll miss her.
"Why are you already accusing them? Who knows, maybe they're the victim here, babe. You're being too insensitive."
"Yeah, Tim, you should listen to your girlfriend over here." You nudged him and he glared vehemently.
"(Y/n), you're not supposed to openly agree with me, but yeah, why don't you give them the benefit of the doubt?"
You gave Ying'er a weak friendly wink and a thumbs up, feeling repulsed at yourself deep down. It's incredibly flattering for her to insinuate a professor would find you attractive rather than filing a restraining order.
She'll probably hate you once she finds out the truth, right? She did have a crush on your victim.
"This is them we're talking about." Timaeus glared. "They're bound to do something stupid. C'mon, Tighnari, say something!"
Tighnari merely shrugged and stabbed his fork into a mushroom (presumably poisonous, given its unnatural blue color). He had grown tired of dealing with your antics over the years. No lecture had ever worked in the past, and you both telepathically agreed that streak was not going to end today. You're lying about being self-possessed. He knew that whenever this happens, you were trying to be an idiot, and did not allow yourself to be an idiot. There's a fine difference between those two, and he knows which is which.
In a way, Tighnari views you in a more positive light than most of your friends. And he could sense that you have more grave matters to say.
So, he played along to help you set the mood. "I said this yesterday and I'll say it again: we're studying to become botanists. We're growing plants. Our future job isn't to help them grow a brain."
"Facts." You snapped your fingers and smugly nodded.
"Don't just agree with him!"
"You can grow plants all you want but just know my Timaeus right here doesn't need any more growing if you catch my drift~."
"Ying'er." Collei groaned.
"What? I was just saying his height is perfect enough as it is."
"I feel like we're having thirty different conversations at once." 
"Your mother is thirty different conversations at once–"
"Mx. (L/n)."
The table went silent. Except for yourself, who's still droning on, unfinished. Everyone noticed the uninvited man in the cafeteria and their lips were silenced. 
Here he is. 
"–eeegood evening, Professor Albedo." You stood up from your seat and slightly bowed your head down.
It's the untouchable Professor Albedo. The Alchemy Professor on this forsaken campus exudes a breath of freshness even if the scent of chemicals follows him like an affectionate dog. The only person that students would ogle at amid all the balding learning facilitators. Sucrose's mentor. Dorian's 32-year-old brother. The "Kreideprinz".
And the guy that might just sue you for your careless mistake.
Your circle caught the tension between you two and started watching the scene unfold like a car accident.
Professor Albedo cocked his head forward. You never claimed to be one of his adoring fans who can spot his emotions after one look, but your gut tells you that he's more than amused despite his stoic expression. He's similar to Dorian in that aspect.
"I trust that you've read the excerpt I've sent you?" He asked in almost a whisper.
You thoughtlessly lamely pulled up your library-borrowed copy of Title IX. In your perspective, nothing matters anymore, so you might as well let it out there.
Your friends jolted simultaneously, someone even dropped their utensils while Collei hit her knee up the table and hissed at the pain.
"Oh my God..." Timaeus shuddered.
Your friends had the face that collectively screamed "YOU MADE OUT WITH PROFESSOR ALBEDO?!" in all capitals, bold, italics, underlined, shadowed with thick black strokes– whatever makes it more out there. They're not in the wrong to react that way. 
In one single move, you broke 2 rules on the so-called Bro Code, one being the infamous "don't fuck my brother" and the second being the lesser known "don't fuck my professor". Not only that, but most importantly you violated a line or two in Title IX. 
Leave it to (Y/n) (L/n) to break more than three rules on the daily.
... You really should stop making jokes as a coping mechanism.
The cafeteria started to murmur, urging their seatmates for information they don't have. You released a small, clipped laugh. You should've thought that one through.
Tighnari meets your eyes with a sympathetic stare. You could tell he had more to say, but your heavy heart no longer wished to know.
"... Great work." The professor said just as nonchalantly. No doubt, he tried to salvage your reputation but you sabotaged it yourself. How wasteful. He beckoned you forward with one finger. 
"Come with me. We'll talk somewhere more private."
You walked away from your table and gave them one look.
They were incredibly disturbed to see a small sad smile on your face, rather than the wide mischievous grin that they were used to. After seeing that, they all had one emotionally detached thought in mind:
So, it wasn't a joke after all.
--------------
You neither like nor dislike Professor Albedo.
There are multiple fluffs about how friendly and dorkish he is as a reclusive person, but none of them sparked your interest. You often feigned reactions whenever Dorian expresses his apparent disdain for his more successful brother, and your sly smile barely reaches your eyes. If anything, hearing about the same man over and over again makes him feel oversaturated rather than entertaining. He's too perfect in those gossips that you're bored to tears. 
At least the rumors were positively right about one thing: his tastefully braided blonde hair and blue eyes make him no lesser than a portrait of a prince. But no more special than Dorian, in all honesty. You wouldn't be able to know which is which if they wore similar clothes and let their hair down. They're like clones of each other.
Albedo kept fidgeting a hand inside his pocket, and you can't hazard a guess as to what it is. A recording device, perhaps? You pride yourself on your ability to read and toy people like clockwork. That ability, however, does not translate well with Professor Albedo. 
You snapped out of your trance as the professor began reading what was on his clipboard.
"(Y/n) (L/n). 27. Graduate School. Taking a Ph.D. Botany program– though if I hadn't known that, I would've guessed you were a music major." Albedo vaguely pointed at your face without looking. "Your tongue would've fooled me."
You flinched. Is he teasing you or scolding you– you can't make sense of his tone. He's too monotonous.
"Professor, are you uncomfortable right now? If so, I could leave if you wish and we can talk via email instead about your complaint."
Professor Albedo eyed you carefully this time, even though he's squirmish. The tone you used to address him and your overall body language differ greatly from how you behave in the company of your friend group. Your professionalism does not match how the rumors perceive you. This is probably the reason why young professor Kusanali didn't believe any rumors about you. He was impressed.
"Am I supposed to be happy that you’re not giving me a moment of your time?” He said. "It's a bit difficult to achieve that state when you have yet to slip out of my mind. You did assault me yesterday–"
"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of that, Professor." You cringed. "But–"
"Albedo."
"Sorry?"
"You kissed me, (Y/n). I think you can call me Albedo."
"Right." You chuckled nervously. "Like I was saying, P-Professor, it's all a major misunderstanding. I wasn't aiming to assault you."
Albedo raised an eyebrow. He did not miss the way you suavely dodged calling him by name. Other than that, assault is a strong word, and he did not expect you to use it as well. 
You thought it was a fitting word to use. Albedo barely makes eye contact, and he probably doesn't like being reminded that you stole a kiss from him.
"It's Albedo. So, you were planning to sexually assault another student?"
He is relentlessly quick on the uptake. Albedo sounded like a cop. What he said was correct, absurdly phrased, but correct nonetheless.
"I mean..." You rubbed your hands against your pants. They were a bit sweaty, and you had to accept the fact you were not faking it. You are genuinely anxious. "When you put it like that, it does sound inexcusable doesn't it?"
"It is a positively hair-raising notion, yes." Albedo deadpanned. "And if I had to take an educated guess, you were planning to assault my younger brother Dorian and you mistook me for him instead."
"..."
Figuring that out was a no-brainer. Although Professor Albedo is older than his brother, their appearance and physique make them appear twin-like. Dorian once droned about how it happened due to Albedo's poor upbringing under their aunt Alice's guidance, making his growth stunted. And his tendency to talk your ear out is one of many reasons why your intrusive thoughts often suggest that Dorian had no personality outside being the renowned professor Albedo's younger brother. Hence, you don't absorb a word of what he says. You didn't listen to gossip often cause you figured that you were not one for trivial gossip like the rest of the student botanists. 
... And based on the dilemma you find yourself in now, it appears as though you don't have common sense like the rest of your peers either–
"Please stop woolgathering. Is there a more interesting specimen to take note of on the floor? You seem to be more intrigued by what's on your shoes."
You cringed for what you felt like the 1000th milestone at that point.
"Professor, I know that I sound terrible–"
Albedo sighed. "I would never insinuate that, Mx. (L/n)." 
"But you keep cutting me off." You said in a questioning tone. It sounded a lot more polite in your head, yet the famous Kreideprinz was flustered by your reply.
He cleared his throat. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. Carry on. You are aware that you sound like a sex offender, and?"
That came out incredibly cold. It felt like being under the cold blade of a frigid prince, and his icy stare and light complexion just adds the cherry on top. The professor said that he wasn't insulting you but his paraphrasing is exactly that. You didn't comment on it, figuring your education is more important than a harsh remark, and continued.
"... The truth is," you took a deep breath. "I only kissed you cause, well, I mistook you for Dorian, and also because I was trying to get Sucrose–."
"Sucrose?" Professor Albedo's eyebrows furrowed. "Sucrose, one of my–"
"Your student assistants? Y-Yes, sir." You nodded hesitantly. "We're best friends– not that it's unsurprising since I am a bad influence and she's a good person. I recently went through a breakup and she's worried about me. Dorian agreed to fake date and make Sucrose believe that she accidentally found us making out in a room to make it more believable but–"
"You mistook me for my brother."
"... Yeeaaahhh...."
"..."
This reminded you of your conversation with Dorian a while back. You asked if he and his brother would switch lives for a day, and he cackled and told you it happens more than the number you were thinking of. The moment you realized who you were kissing, you clung to the sliver of hope that it was Dorian wearing his brother's lab coat. It was not.
You looked down at your shoes again. It's too embarrassing and shameful that your entire lineage will probably be cursed. 
"..."
Knowing that you won't talk until he does, Professor Albedo read through his notes for a topic.
"Understandable. I presume you know my brother because you're both on the same course and are on similar schedules?"
"Yes, sir." Should you tell him the whole fake-date thing was Dorian's idea as well?
"It's Albedo to you. And to add to that, Sucrose is under the impression that we're dating."
"I think so, sir."
"That's not a question, (Y/n), that's a fact." He said. "She recently confronted me to ask if we're dating."
You gulped. Moment of truth.
"What did you tell her, sir?"
"What do you want me to tell her?"
You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears. 
On one hand, you want her to know what happened, but at the same time that would just blow you and Dorian's cover story.
But was that a smug tone you heard? Is he toying with you?
You bit your bottom lip. 
"... Yes, I think? What did you say, professor?"
"Albedo."
You tilted your head. "What?"
"Respectfully, please call me by my name and I'll tell you the answer." He smirked curtly, but it was gone before you could process it.
"S-Sir!"
Albedo shrugged. "Guess you'll have to ask her directly–"
"Sir Albedo–"
"Hmm, I don't recall having 'Sir' in my birth certificate–"
"Albedo! Albedo!" Geez.
He gave a small smile, longer this time. But he was still avoiding eye contact. You puffed your cheeks, embarrassed.
Prof. Albedo has a slightly twisted sense of humor.
None of this was professional, at all.
You felt your face growing warmer. You can't believe this is the same Albedo everyone is crushing on. 
You bit back a sharp retort. He sounded a lot more serious in campus gossip, and not the type to pull on your heartstrings like this. Your faith in that image is wearing thin.
The professor laughed. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting such an enthusiastic reply. You don't have to be nervous around me, (Y/n). I figured that if we were going to do this, you could use my first name.
"I refrained from answering. But, if you wish, I can confirm her suspicions. However, I must inform you in advance that I find relationships rather... Tiresome." Albedo robotically sighed. "I struggle to maintain them, so you will have to guide me."
Never in your life have you ever considered the possibility that a professor in your grad school would ask you to fake a romantic relationship with him. 
You digressed, not wanting to make a decision just yet. "But isn't your job in danger?"
Albedo then spoke in a genuine trill of amusement. 
"Not at all. Besides, I don't care enough to file a complaint about this incident. Also, you're not my student. Suffice it to say, I've thoroughly checked the handbook and consulted the headmaster herself. Rhinedottir sees no problem with this arrangement–"
Probably because she's your mother.
"–Granted, it will not be in full effect unless you give this a go signal. Will you?"
You looked away.
"This situation... Kinda reads like some cheap Harlequin novel, doesn't it?" You muttered.
It's a great offer. But it sounds too good to be true...
... Did he say that he wasn't going to file a complaint in the first place?
The professor watched as your impassive stare morphed into something uneven and sly but unavoidably empty. You clicked your tongue as your hands slip back to your pockets. Albedo could tell you're holding back an ugly laugh.
A switch had been flipped.
Professor Albedo immediately noticed the change in your demeanor and crossed his arms. He's anticipated this much. There's no way he didn't know about your "self-destructive patterns."
How interesting. For both you AND him.
"So, Albedo." You lazily pointed at him. "Something's fishy about this, don't you think?"
"You're too eager to help. I'd get it if you have something to gain from this, like scaring off your fangirls or something, but you fend them off just fine anyways." You grinned.
"I'm flattered that you think I send them away effortlessly." He answered point-blank.
Albedo turned to you, his face dim and heavily affected by his calm resignation.
"It's incredibly taxing work. I've told you before, haven't I? I may seem calm on the surface but people can be... A considerable handful."
His smile belied the severity of his inner turmoil.
But you can't help but doubt him. You don't buy his pitifulness.
You reassessed the situation in an instant. The Albedo you're talking to acts far from the untouchable Chalk Prince from the get-go. His words did not boast his usual research-riddled speech. This act is more than just premeditated.
Sure. You're the sort who is bound by what you "owe," but you can't say you can't empathize with his problems because he didn't seem-- he ISN'T troubled in the first place. And you're almost sure of it.
You believe you're not smart enough to remain in this university. But at least you have faith that you're perceptive and street-wise. 
Still, you kept your hollow cheeky grin plastered to your face.
"Then why aren't you taking a less problematic approach? You could say you're dating Professor Alberich– you'd get some people off your back."
Translation: Can't you just bother someone else?
"By attracting other unpleasant folks pestering me about Kaeya instead, yes, seems like a sound suggestion. I'll keep it in mind for future reference."
Translator's note: He's being sarcastic. Stop trying to worm your way out of this one.
Albedo continued. "But right now that's not viable. If you feel guilty for stealing a kiss from me this may be a good opportunity to ease your conscience."
...
"That's it? But you won't report me if I didn't agree to these terms, right?"
"Of course. I have your best interests in mind and simply warned you." He gave you a faint smile, hoping to ease your nerves. "You're part of Rukkha's batch of dean's listers. I don't have the heart to file a complaint."
Rukkha was a great woman, but you don't deserve your scholarships and sponsors. You don't have any talent or skill to truly impress people, and it seems you fooled both Professor Rukkhadevata and Albedo into thinking you're something special as well.
"Professor...."
But with what he basically said just now is that there are no consequences for your actions.
"It's Albedo, and yes?"
"You seem to have reserved some very unrealistic expectations for me. You should be more distrusting."
"... What do you mean?"
"I don't see any reason to accept your offer." You honestly had no idea where this confidence is coming from. Perhaps your class clown persona had slowly rubbed off on the "real" you, and for once you didn't hate yourself for it.
Because you don't want to be in this relationship. It's legal, yes, and you're old enough, but you're incredibly wary. Albedo may be leagues better than Itto but that's beside the point: you're emotionally spent and you're not ready to get to know another person.
"Oh, understood. For starters, agreeing to these terms will make Sucrose less abrasive with her attempts to set you up, and I could help you with connections."
"That sounds as though I'll be abusing your influence..."
You paused. 
Did you tell the professor about Sucrose's disturbing attempts to hook you up with people earlier...?
You don't recall ever sharing that bit of information. You made sure to pick your words carefully so Sucrose wouldn't be seen in a bad light. Since when did he...
"What? No, it's not. It's simply a small trade for your cooperation."
"No."
"And– sorry?"
You can see the appeal. You truly do. When you are chosen by someone of greater influence and intellect, it seems almost magical. He could undoubtedly help your botany profession thrive. Most people would conclude that if Professor Albedo chose them from the crowd, they must be extremely unique in comparison to their peers. 
However, this is somewhat unethical. This is the kind of scenario you'd find in a shoddy coming-of-age novel that desperately tries to convince you that there are no other elements to consider but love. However, you must also consider your mental health, reputation, education, and other factors that influence every fiber of your being.
Albedo isn't the type of person who would jeopardize your future over a minor disagreement, but you never know with people. People change as much as seasons do. You are a living example of this. Itto would not have used that argument against you if it were untrue.
You have nothing against those who engage in lawful student-teacher relationships, but you're self-aware enough to recognize that you're not mentally fit to enter one. And sometimes the conclusion is as straightforward as that. Besides, you're sick of having others (including yourself) continually doubting your intelligence. Fake-dating a professor will only exacerbate the situation. Rumors will spread that you only earned your grades because of him and not out of your efforts. Dorian already had it rough, and you've learned what it's like through him. Simple self-preservation.
"Thanks for the offer, really, but no. If I'll date someone, even if it's fake, I want to set it under my terms as well." 
You scratched your neck, eyes lifeless.
"I'm sorry, Professor. But I genuinely can't see why this agreement will help both of us, I especially can't see why this will benefit you compared to your other options. I could just come out and say I mistook you for Dorian and it's an easy fix to my problems and in turn, you wouldn't have to deal with the stigma of dating a student. I'm sorry, Prof. I'll take a rain check on it." 
You shrugged uncomfortably. "Besides, this is still a student-teacher relationship. I'm uncomfortable being in an uneven power dynamic like that. I'd rather date Dorian instead."
...
Shit. 
Okay, maybe accidentally implying that you're open to dating his kid brother had to be the second most uncomfortable thing you subjected Albedo to.
You didn't mean to come off as THAT honest.
A test tube must've cracked somewhere around the area cause you could've sworn you heard something shatter. You flinched, but he didn't.
"... Is that so." The professor muttered. You almost didn't hear him from how silent his defeat was.
You sighed in relief so intense that you physically felt your shoulder muscles relax and your eyes roll back. Seems like he gave up.
"I promise that I'll pay you back in other ways, professor. I owe you and I'm sorry. But I must refuse for both our sakes." You said. "I have taken something important from you, and I will respectfully understand if you file a complaint for what I've done. No one should have a kiss stolen like that."
He didn't reply. Albedo stood there, eyes unblinking as he mulled over your words. At the beginning of this conversation, he barely looked you directly in the eye, but now he refused to look away. 
You waited for him to say something else and stood there for a solid minute. Nothing came. 
"Please, excuse me."
You wanted to say that you left to give him more time to consider but the truth is that you couldn't bare standing there for a second more so you left in a frantic hurry. 
It was only when you left did you realize what made you wary of him the entire conversation.
Professor Albedo wasn't breathing the entire time.
-------
Upon unlocking his door, Albedo was greeted by a boy with a face akin to his. He was waiting for him, and in turn, Albedo anticipated that he would be here, too. The boy sat idly and almost casually inside a room littered with wall to wall of red-stringed photographs and texts, and there was not a single hint of disgust or any other natural reaction on his face. Albedo's nose scrunched.
Dorian did not budge from his brother– master's office chair. He stared back with a blank expression. Most papers were by his feet, crumpled, but not discarded. How could they be, when all pictures centered around one very precious subject:
You.
You, in all forms, poses, and angles make you ineffably you. These are the candid shots that bring out the little moments that Albedo longed to study under a microscope. They didn't need to be dynamic, rather, Albedo adored the simplest pictures the most. Needless to say, images of you resting is the most popular. It's a lot more convenient and easy to take, but that doesn't cheapen the value and elation the professor feels upon holding the finished polaroid up close.
Every time he swapped schedules with Dorian, he couldn't help but be curious about you.
It doesn't stop there. Albedo clicked his tongue as he noticed the journal Dorian held. It was his dog-eared notes he cleanly put together when jotting down your schedule, private life, and other more delicate intricacies. The clipboard he had earlier is nothing more than a silly prop compared to his actual notes. There's something so breathtaking about making the "unknown" into the "known", and the same applies to every bit of your life that he was curious about. Albedo's aware that it's not something he should brag about. Retrieving paraphernalia such as worn-out gardening gloves and locks of hair from your shower drain was not something he acquired robotically. However, he didn't fancy the idea that Dorian read it and found it just as entertaining as he did. He didn't like the idea of sharing.
Maybe you were right.
Maybe he did reserve some very unrealistic and idolized expectations for you. But that was only because he can see your potential. He firmly believes that. It's an awful and objectifying train of thought, but the professor is convinced he'll be the one who can "fix" your people-pleasing issue.
He figured, if he wants to make sure you'd always be with him, he had to conduct some trial-and-error.
Albedo breathed harshly. He forgot how to do so. He never needed to breath.
"Did it work?" Dorian asked. "Did your plan work?"
His eyes went dim.
Albedo didn't answer.
He locked the door again. This time, he allowed Dorian to keep the lights on. If anything, it's a small reward for indirectly helping him. But not even his fellow creation can have what the genius professor of the century desires to attain. He has to face the truth.
Albedo pulled out a recording device from his pocket. You said no. There's nothing he could do about that. 
"No."
"No. No. No. No. No--"
He played your refusal over and over again.
He thought he did everything right. He genuinely believed he followed the right procedure in getting you to say yes. What went wrong, then? Albedo doesn't get it. He was sure that he didn't say anything wrong or suspicious as well. You shouldn't have known that he had been following you from that conversation alone. 
"No."
He practiced everything for hours.
"No."
Word for word.
"No."
He researched tips and tricks on how to let other people's guard down.
"No."
He thought not pressuring you to do it will make you more willing.
"No."
He even asked Alberich how to subtly flirt with someone.
"No."
So. What went wrong?
"No--"
Albedo slowly blinked before realizing he had thrown the device against the wall in full force. The batteries and their other internal components spilled on the floor. He didn't have the willpower to clean it up. 
It's an undeniable error. He still can't believe his approach failed.
Master was right.
"Dearest Albedo, if you can't have them in their most authentic self, then what's stopping you from making an indistinguishable copy?"
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idunnoficsorsumthing · 8 months
Text
surprise
Bobby Nash x reader
Warnings: 18+ readers only. Mentions of abortion, and smut soo 18 +only.
The echoing sound of birds chirping outside woke you up. Bobby was the one that liked to stay in and sleep the day away more than you anyway. Usually you’d take the time to go for a run before work. It wasn’t public that you and Bobby were in a relationship and the two of you like to keep it that way. It simply was easier that way. After your history with bad men it was nice to know there was a good one out there. You were happy to be home after your visit to your cousin's house, she had asked you to help out with two of her children while she was in the hospital giving birth to her third. You loved your cousin like a sister, but those children were devils, and the best birth control you could ever get was to spend a week with them. You cling against his hot skin, as you try to think the nausea away. His big arms wrapped around you in his hazy awakening. “Morning” he said, his low voice sounded like he was seconds away from falling asleep again. He pecked a soft kiss against your skin, allowing his hand to move over your stomach placing his hand on your side. The second his warm hand moved over your skin the nausea became more present, and the dire urge to throw up rose. You pushed his big arm away and ran for the bathroom. The contents of your stomach ended up floating in the toilet bowl. Those evil kids must have given you some kind of stomach bug. 
Most of your ‘relaxing’ morning had been spent next to the toilet bowl. Bobby had brought you some juice though you didn’t drink any. You thought about telling him you were too sick to go to work though nearing eleven it wasn’t as bad.The next couple of days the nausea hadn’t been bad, sometimes the nagging feeling of wanting to throw up whenever you were around certain smells, such as Buck after the gym. 
It wasn’t raising too many alarm bells until the team responded to a 911 call near a place that sold greasy foods, and you couldn’t help but barf on the side of the street hiding away from the patient. Bobby walked over to you when he knew the patient was in good hands with Hen. “Do you need medical attention?” He said, handing you a sympathetic look. You shake your head. “No, it 'll pass just like last time.” You said, referring to the other call the other day that caused you to puke your guts out. “You think you are maybe pregnant?” he asked softly. You looked at your boyfriend in disbelief. No way. NO freaking way your thoughts entered your mind as you try to do the mental math about how many weeks ago your last period was. The others were standing near the victim attending his care. “You still have swimmers?” You asked in a mocking shock. You were on birth control. It would be absolutely ridiculous for you to even think about being pregnant. “Hey! my swimmers go for olympic gold okay.” He defended. A little too loud for what he intended probably, as Hen looked up, and gave you a strange look. “I don’t think I am.” you tell him. He just said you’d talk about it at home. 
It took you the entire afternoon to think about you having the possibility of it being a child. You had never thought of yourself as a mother. You never enjoyed spending time with children, and then all the complaining other parents do…. It just didn’t seem like something for you. However, the thought of the possibility of having a child with the man you love seemed different. The two of you made it home after the shift, and the take out dinner was set on the table. He was digging into his chinese food while you were stirring your food through your noodles, hesitant to start eating. “We were careful.” You mumbled as you could tell Bobby had barely spoken to you. He looked up from his plate. He raised his eyebrow. “No we weren’t.” he said, gulping his coke. “Okay well I don’t know I just thought at your age it was unlikely.” You tell him. He nodded and shoved another bite of food in his mouth. “We don’t know anything yet.” he said, you look at him. He had that look on his face when he tried to look happy but you could see past that. “If I am, I know we have options” you opted. Though your heart sank in your chest as you said that. He dropped his fork with a clatter on the plate. “A child is a blessing, y/n”  He said, it was almost like he said it out of his belief as a catholic. “I would understand if you don’t want one.” you argued. “I mean after everything you’ve been through.” He stood up from his seat like he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act. “ I can’t believe you want an abortion.” he said, looking like he was about to yell or scream or hit a wall or something. “ I just don’t think either of us have what it takes.” you said, the two of you stared at each other trying to think of the words. He didn’t even respond to the last thing you said. “Bobby-” you started. He didn’t want to hear it. “I’ll go get one of those damn tests.” he said, he rushed out of the apartment with his keys jangling as the last notable sound came from him. Tears rushed to your eyes, and the sound of sobbing was the only thing that echoed through the room. 
You had been crying on the couch for a while now waiting for him. You wanted for him to comfort you, and tell you it was okay. Though this time you didn’t think you knew what to say or how to make it alright. His doubt for this baby made you want it even more. Somehow the thought of him not wanting it made you protective over your unborn baby. You finally hear the door unlock, and see Bobby walking in. This time the anger had turned into sadness. Neither of you had wanted to say anything to one another. Though as you wiped the tears from your cheek he gestured for you to join him in the bathroom.
The two of you sat on the bathroom floor. Neither of you were saying anything after the words the two of you spoke to each other earlier. The feeling of sadness as this was a milestone in life to be happy about, and instead you were worried how you would feel after knowing what that stick said. You had been getting lost in your thoughts, while Bobby was staring at the test on the ground that was there upside down. You sat in a cross legged position while he had one leg lying on the ground while his other knee was up resting his hand on the knee. The timer went off, and Bobby reached for it. “I love you” You said, as he touched it. “I love you too.” He said, a faint smile appeared on his face. 
You moved closer to him till you were close enough to feel his breath on your skin. He flipped the test to show the result. Pregnant. The two of you looked at each other. The silence was deafening. He reached for you pressing his lips forcefully against your lips. You kiss him back it felt like all the emotions of this day were in that kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and he is pressed against the wall of the bathroom. He pulls you against his chest. You start to reach for his buttons on his blouse that he was wearing exposing part of his chest. You start to suck at the base of his neck, as he starts helping you out of your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to the cold air. Your sensitive nipples hard, as he glides his hands over them. You let your head fall back, as he helps you to the ground of the bathroom floor. The cold tiles cause you to shudder from the temperature change. Bobby licks at your nipples, seeing how you respond so intensely to one touch makes you feel his hard cock pressed against your leg. Normally he would take his time to get you ready for him. Tonight he seemed too eager. He helps you out of your shorts, and touches your core, feeling the wetness coat his fingers. His eyes had darkened, and he seemed out for only one thing. Fucking out his frustrations. He doesn’t even bother taking off all clothes, instead he lowers his pants to allow his cock to flop against his stomach. It looked painfully hard, as he started to rub it against you to prepare you for him entering. With one push he glides his cock through your wet folds. “Bobby” you mewled. He didn’t give you much time to adjust to his size before he started trusting. His thrusts were hard as he started rubbing your clit trying to get you off. He let his hand glide to your stomach. “I always thought you couldn’t get more beautiful.” He grunted. The thrusts didn’t slow down; instead each time he pulled out you felt empty and wished he would pick up his pace. “You’ll be so beautiful pregnant with my child.” the words coming from his mouth caused your walls to tighten around his cock. You moan his name over and over again as you come around him. “That’s a good girl, cum for me.” he grunted as he quickened his pace, it didn’t take long for him to release inside you. 
Afterwards, Bobby had turned on the bath for you. The warm water engulfed your body while he was sitting next to the tub, simply looking at you. “Thank god i’m already pregnant, this would be a terrible way to conceive.” you said, this queued a genuine laugh from Bobby. “Sure this is a much better story to tell our child.” he said, you slap him against your arm. There fell a silence between the two of you. “Are you happy?” you ask him. There never had been so much said in the silences between you two as today. “I am” he said: “I was- you were trying to be understanding for me.” he didn’t look at you instead he focused on the ripples of the water. “I took it wrong, I realized that a little late.” He took your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles. “I’m happy too.”
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gimmeabigpush · 9 months
Text
Casey, Army, & Eli
Thanks to @cocktailpug , we're back with another story of belly worship with this fun family. I hope you all enjoy, let me know what you think, and thanks again for the great prompt. 😜💜
5k~, nbpreg, fpreg, belly worship, light & friendly teasing
Army & Eli- Story 1
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Army’s house smelled like Chinese food and rang with the sounds of laughter. The two friends had gotten their food and long since finished off the contents of the styrofoam and plastic takeout containers, but the trash still sat empty on the coffee table, chopsticks and spoons balanced on their edges, as neither one of the friends was eager to get up to take them out.
Army snorted, stretching out one leg toward Casey and wiggling their toes. “Lookit this crazy ankle. Cankle, I guess now. I can’t even wear my cute shoes anymore, it’s all slippers for me.”
Casey snorted, grinning and showing off her sharpened canines. “Get your foot out of my face,” she laughed, shoving Army’s foot away with the back of one hand. “I got the same problem starting up.”
“Ohhhh, just you wait. When you hit third trimester like me you’ll see. Cankles for days.”
Casey rolled her eyes, resting one hand lazily on her belly, just under her breasts. Since the two of them were pregnant at the same time (albeit Army had gotten pregnant a few months before Casey had), the two spent a lot of time bonding and talking about their kiddos and symptoms, plus indulging in cravings. She loved it, but damn didn’t Army love to play the ‘I got it worse’ card, especially since they were carrying so big.
“I’ve still got a few weeks til I get there, let me enjoy it.” Casey snorted, pressing her elbow into the couch and leaning forward to grab one of the peaches from the bowl in the middle of the coffee table. “May I?”
“Oh yeah sure.” Army waved their hand. “Eli picked those up last week, they should be good. I ate one the first day and it turned my stomach.”
“Mm. I can’t get enough fruit these days.” Casey licked her lips, then sank her fangs into the peach, slurping up a little juice before taking the rest of the bite.
“Blech. Eli keeps fussing at me, I should eat more veggies and fruit, but listen. The baby wants what it wants.”
Chewing, Casey nodded and pointed at her friend, peach still held in her palm. “Mm. Baby wants what it wants,” she echoed, chuckling before swallowing. “Ain’t that the truth. He does the same to me, though. Always checking up on what I’m eating and how I’m taking care of myself. It’s sweet.”
“Yeah, it’s sweet.” Army chuckled, leaning their head in their hand and their elbow on the couch arm. “When are you due, again?”
Casey finished chewing her bite, licking her lips of juice before speaking. “I got four months left. Ish.”
“Not too bad. You’re just carrying super high.”
Casey blinked and looked down at herself, pressing her free hand against the side of her belly. It was true, her belly looked a little bigger in this sweater, but she wasn’t sure about carrying high. “Huh? No I’m not, you’re just dropped.” She finally snorted, looking back up at Army.
Army rolled their eyes and sat up, scooting over a little closer to Casey and grabbing at her sweater. “No, you’re carrying high, lemme see.”
“Army!” Casey coughed, batting at her friend’s hand and laughing. “Staaaahp!”
“C’mon, lemme see that cute widdle belly of yours.” Army playfully pouted, laughing too.
“Hey, hey, you’re gonna make me barf this all up, staaahp. I’ll show you later, lemme finish this. Sheezus.” Casey fussed, pushing Army back toward their spot.
Army finally relented, shrugging and leaning against the arm of the couch and tucking one leg under their butt. “Fiiiine, fine. Trust me, though, you’re carrying high.”
“Mm-mm. You’re just dropped, my friend.” Casey raised her eyebrow at Army.
“I am nooot. Not yet anyway. I still got a couple weeks.”
“Mhm. You keep telling yourself that. You’re gonna sneeze too hard one day soon and that baby is gonna come flying out of you.”
“Oh my god.” Army slapped their hand over their forehead and laughed, waving their other hand in the air. “That is the worst image.”
“Worst?!” Casey laughed, finishing up her peach and tossing the pit and leftove pieces of core into her open to go box on the coffee table. “That sounds like heaven to me, no labor or anything, just sneeze and have a baby.”
“Well when you put it that way.” Army snorts, and the two giggle, sharing a look.
As the laughter winds down, both of them hear keys in the front door, and both look at the door, Army grinning.
“That’ll be Eli with my groceries. I told him I didn’t wanna walk around with my sore ankles and he took my list off the fridge without me even asking.”
Casey pouted her lips and looked over at Army, a fond expression on her face. “Ain’t he the cutest.”
“Mhm. Heeeeey Eli!” Army called out as their boy finally came inside, arms loaded with grocery bags.
Eli shook his bangs out of his face and looked over at the couch, giving them a crooked smile. “Hey! Hi Casey, I didn’t know you were coming over today. Mmm, it smells good in here.”
“Hey!” Casey grinned and wiggled her fingers at him, and Army nodded, stretching out their legs and resettling on the couch.
“Yep, we ordered delivery from that new place down the block. Worth every penny.”
“Except they forgot the fortune cookies. What kind of place forgets the fortune cookies?!” Casey flailed her hand, frustrated, and Army laughed.
Eli chuckled and shook his head, heading into the kitchen to drop off the bags. “I got one more load to bring in. I got those vanilla wafer things you wanted, Army, you guys want those instead of fortune cookies?”
Casey and Army shared a look, and Army shrugged in response. Casey shook her head as she looked back toward the kitchen. “Nahh. Thanks though. I was looking more forward to seeing my lucky numbers.”
Eli chuckled to himself as he set the bags around the kitchen, then headed back to the main room. Before heading back outside, he scooted over to the couch and gave first Casey a smooch on the lips, then Army. As he did so, he placed both hands on each of the round bellies beneath him, giving each of them a loving rub and a small pat before pulling away.
Both of his companions smiled and kissed him back, then watched as he gathered up their trash and headed back outside to toss it and get the next load of groceries, leaving the door just cracked so he could get it open easier.
As he left, a thought flashed through Army’s head, eyes on Eli’s backside. They stretched their arms over their head and stretched, then leaned closer to Casey, their voice lowered almost conspiratorially.
“Hey.”
Casey blinked and looked over at Army, confused. “Uh…What?”
“I didn’t tell you about this yet…but I found something fun out about our boy last week when he slept over.”
Casey’s eyes lit up with little sparks, and she smirked, leaning a litle closer in and lowering her own voice to match theirs. “Go on…”
“Seems little Eli has a belly kink that he failed to tell any of us about.”
Casey’s jaw dropped, one hand darting up to cover her mouth with her long fingers. “He does NOT.”
“He absolutely does. You should have seen him, Case. It was…something else.” Army wiggled their eyebrows, and Casey flopped back against the back of the couch, her other hand against her belly.
“How in the hell did he not say anything about this to any of us??”
“I think he just figured it out himself. It was almost like he was scared to rub my belly at first, but I gave him a little nudge, and boom.” Army wiggled her fingers, then smirked and leaned back in their own seat too.
“Boom? Boom…how?” Casey asked in the same hushed tone, and Army’s smirk grew even more mischievous.
“He was straight up grinding on my belly, Case.”
“Holy-”
“Yeah. It was pretty amazing.”
“I’d say. Holy shit.” Casey snorted, then laughed, her face flushed a bit pink. “Who knew.”
“Uh, yeah.” Army grinned and wriggled to get more comfy, looking innocent as Eli came back in with the final load of groceries and took them to the kitchen.
Casey still had the flushed and surprised look on her face when Eli came back into the room, but she managed to hide it fairly well. Eli didn’t seem to notice, busying himself with scooting out the coffee table a bit and perching on the edge of it, facing both of his companions on the couch.
“So. How’ve things been? Lunch was good?”
Army smirked, and it was like Casey could watch the devil horns forming above their head.
“Mhm, it was good, except Casey here keeps teasing me that my belly has dropped cause I told her she was carrying high. What do you think, Eli?”
Before Casey could react, Army leaned over and grabbed the hem of her sweater, pulling it up and all but tucking it under her breasts to reveal her belly. It was definitely smaller in comparison to Army’s own, but not an insignificant bump, either.
With a small squawk, Casey tried to wriggle away, bapping at Army’s hands, but stopped when she caught sight of Eli’s face.
Staring at her belly, he looked…incredibly flustered. Face reddening, eyes taking in her form, hands gripping the edge of the table. Army leaned close to their companion and, smirking, whispered in her ear. “Told ya~...”
Hands darting up to cup her cheeks, Casey swoons, giggling. “Awww, lookit you, honey…why didn’t you tell me this was your kinda thing?”
Eli jerked his eyes up to Casey’s face, stammering. “Uh…I…I d-didn’t really…know, myself…til, uhm.”
“Til our sleepover last week.” Army finished, sitting back with a grin. Their work was done.
Casey giggled, one hand coming down to keep their sweater lifted. “Well, you can look all you want, babe. I know it’s not as impressive as Army’s belly, but-”
“It’s beautiful!!’ Eli blurted out, and Army couldn’t hold back a smirk as Casey swooned again.
“Aww, you really think so?”
“Uh-huh.” Eli nodded, eyes wandering down to her belly again.
“Yeah, but is she carrying high?” Army smirked, reaching over a hand and rubbing small circles on Casey’s middle, their other hand doing the same to their own.
“Huh?” Eli blinked and shifted, wiggling his fingers on the edge of the table. He wanted to touch, he wanted to touch and rub and hold so badly, but he didn’t know if he was quite welcome to.
“Cause she keeps teasing me that I’ve dropped…but I don’t think I’ve dropped.” Army pouted, flicking up their own loose fitting tshirt to show off their belly. “Do you think I have?”
Catching on to what Army was doing, Casey’s eyes flash with mischief, and she grins, cradling her belly in both hands one on each side. “I can’t be carrying too high, right? I know I’ve still got a while to go, but I thought I looked nice and low…”
“Ah.” Eli stammered out, looking back and forth between both bellies, almost completely on display in front of him. Slowly, he crossed one leg over the other, then cleared his throat.
“I think you both look…uhm. Fine.”
“Oh, we know that already.” Army smirked, bringing her hand back to rest both on top of their large belly. “That’s not answering our questions.”
Eli swallowed hard, flustered at being called out. Casey pouted her lips, batting her eyelashes cutely at him.
“...Do you think I’m carrying high?” She rubbed her palms up and down the sides of her belly as she asked, and Eli’s eyes slowly drifted back down to her belly, staying there and drinking her in.
Army smirked as they watched Eli’s eyes just about glaze over. They were glad Casey picked up on their little charade so quickly. This was fun, and Eli was just so damn cute.
“You can touch, babe, if you wanna.” Casey purred, batting her eyelashes again and arching her back to push her belly a little bit closer toward Eli.
However, when he didn’t make a move, Army finally tisked their tongue and reached out, grabbing one of Eli’s hands. “Oh my god, just come…here!” They grunted, and Eli yelped as his balance was thrown off.
With a flail of his free arm and a wobble, and a quiet little yelp, the young man lurched, lost his balance, and flopped face first into the back of the couch…now trapped between both bellies.
They were pressed against his arms, now crunched to his sides in an attempt to make himself smaller and not hurt the two of them as he fell. Army snorted, and Casey gasped, then laughed, and Eli could feel one of her warm hands against his upper back. “You okay??”
“‘Mfine.” He mumbled into the back pillow, staying where he was. One knee was awkwardly pinned up underneath him, the other rested on the floor holding up his weight. After a moment, he wriggled to try to free his knee, and bumped into both bellies as he did so. “Mmph.” He whimpered, his face and neck burning red. “Sorry.”
“Nah, sorry I surprised ya.” Army answered, smirking and looking over him at Casey. Her companion had a bright red face too, but her eyes twinkled with mischief, and she winked in Army’s direction.
“‘Sokay.” Eli mumbled, then wriggled again and managed to free his knee, slumping down and carefully lifting himself up with hands braced on the couch cushions.
Army winked back at Casey, then snuggled back against the couch and let down their shirt, nudging at Eli’s hip with one knee. “Hey. Why don’t you show Casey how fun our sleepover was the other day?”
“Uhh?!” Eli looked at Army with a stunned face, then slowly turned his gaze to Casey, who had a huge grin on her own. He swallowed hard, then smiled sheepishly. “...May I?”
“Of course you can, honey, that’s kinda why we’re asking.” Casey purred, reaching out a hand and stroking Eli’s cheek.
“Seriously, Eli! That’s your nugget cooking in there, you should be all over her, showing her how beautiful she is!” Army nudged him again, and Eli flushed even hotter, his ears turning just as red as his neck.
Finally, he nodded, shifting his weight, and Casey squealed in happiness, yanking off her sweater and tossing it aside. Underneath, she had on a soft black lace bralette, and Eli’s immediate reaction was to go straight for her breasts, eyes wide and hands outstretched a bit.
However, before he could get there, he felt Army’s hand on the back of his head, and he was pushed…
…face first right against the top of Casey’s warm, soft belly.
He flailed a hand and whimpered, but when he didn’t hear Casey making any noises like ‘get off’ or ‘ow’, he stopped, tilting his head to sneak a peek up at her.
What he found was an excited expression, twinkling eyes and a smile and all, and her belly bounced underneath his face as she giggled. With relief, he sighed and let his hands down to support himself on either side, snuggling against her and nuzzling his nose against her tummy.
“There ya go, good boy.” Army murmured from behind him, then all of a sudden he could feel their belly pressing against his back, pinning him there.
He couldn’t hold back the soft moan that bubbled up from his throat, and he quickly shifted to snuggle up tighter between them on the couch, kissing and nuzzling at Casey’s belly as he made the shift. Casey stroked her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp with her long fingernails, and he sighed deeply, closing his eyes. He was glad they were both happy, and this wasn’t…weird to either of them.
Lifting one hand after a moment, he cradled the side of Casey’s belly and kissed down the midline, hesitating around her navel before nuzzling his nose against it, a small smile on his face. Casey continued to play with his hair, purring. “That feels really good, honey…” Her voice was a soft, low purr, and it made him shiver.
Heart pounding, he rubbed and stroked the side of her belly, noticing the subtle differences between her belly and Army’s. Army had more stretch marks in their skin, and it was just as soft as Casey’s, but that was to be expected, as they were much further along and carrying a bit more weight.
Also, he hated to admit it, but Casey definitely was carrying higher than Army was, even at this stage in their pregnancy. But maybe he’d keep that little fact to himself for now.
Inhaling, he slowly kissed down toward the base of her belly, then back up, pressing his palm tightly against her belly and caressing the skin with his thumb. As he came back up, his other hand moved behind him to search for Army’s belly, not having much trouble finding it.
Army grinned, and he could hear the small intake of breath, as he grabbed and gave their belly a little affectionate squeeze. They’d already had their fun, so he thought they might not be too upset if he gave a bit more attention to Casey…but he still wanted to make sure they knew he was here for them too.
Both of his companions were breathing harder now, and his heart swelled and hammered in his chest as the thought flittered through his mind- he was doing a good job making them both happy. That was all he wanted. And damn were they making him happy too.
Army shifted and moved a bit, their belly pressing tighter against his back and side, and he opened one eye to peek up, watching their shirt fly over the back of the couch. Good. They were both getting more comfortable.
Flicking out his tongue, he drew it up the center line of Casey’s belly just a little bit. He smiled at the sharp intake of breath it drew from her.
Casey shifted her hips and wound her fingers tighter into his hair, her eyelashes fluttering. His breath was warm and her belly was so sensitive. As he nuzzled and pressed against her belly, she felt their baby wriggle and stretch inside her, and that just drove the intimate feeling through the roof. Her hips shifted, and she bit her lip with one sharp canine to hold back a groan.
Army grinned devilishly as they watched Casey, one hand lazily stroking down Eli’s back as he snuggled against their companion. Arching their hips after a moment, they nudged and pressed their belly more against his side, a bit impatient for attention.
“Hey…my turn.” They finally half whispered, and Casey pouted as Eli pulled away from her to turn his face against Army’s much bigger belly.
“Aww…I was just getting warmed up…”
“He’ll be back to you, don’t worry.” Army chuckled, settling themself better on the couch and leaning one elbow up on the back. Casey huffed softly through her nose, but smiled after a moment as she quickly realized this meant she got to watch.
Eli nuzzled his face against the side of Army’s belly, pressing his hand tightly against the opposite side to cradle it closer. As it lurched and moved a bit, Army grunted, then chuckled, arching their hips and getting themselves more comfy with Eli between them and Casey.
Casey, on the other hand, had her eagle eyes on the two of them, watching every move with a delighted look on her face. She didn’t take her gaze off them for even a moment, even as she shifted to either side and wriggled back and forth, pulling at her shorts and underwear to ease them off and toss them onto the floor.
“Whoof. Damn. Thank fuck I got those off, they were getting too tight.”
“Mm?” Eli lifted his head a bit and peeked over, just in time to catch Casey slipping her hand between her legs to cup her slightly puffy labia. “Hey, wait…”
When Eli shifted over away from Army, they opened their eyes and peeked over, grunting grumpily. “Hey, I barely got…oh.”
What they saw made them smirk, looking impressed. Eli had immediately tucked a hand between Casey’s legs, papping her hand away and cupping her labia instead. His face smushed against the bottom curve of her belly, he panted soft against her skin. Army caught Casey’s eyes before she closed them, and they smirked at each other, Army extending an arm and pulling Casey into a half-embrace.
The two pregnant people leaned on each other as they began getting serviced by their love, Army playing with Casey’s hair a bit and peeking down at Eli over the tops of both of their bellies. As they shifted closer together, Eli looked like he was in absolute heaven, his torso smushed between two round bellies, warm and soft and ever so slightly rolling against him every once in a while as the babies inside stirred.
Casey moaned softly and leaned her head over onto Army’s shoulder, and Army bit their lip, arching their hips and working at their own shorts with their free hand. Eli grunted soft against Casey’s belly as he felt the lurch and shift of weight, and he turned his head just a bit to peek. Using his free hand, he helped them off with their shorts, not even waiting until their underwear was off before pushing the waistband down and shoving his hand inside.
Now he had one hand on each of them, and their chorus of moans was music to his ears. Casey’s was more light and cute, while Army’s was deeper and more guttural, and he couldn’t say which he liked more. His own erection was straining hard against his pants, but he couldn’t stop now, they both needed to be satisfied before he could even think about himself.
Biting his lip, Eli straightened up a little bit as he began rubbing and caressing each of them, but he made sure to keep his face firmly planted against Casey’s belly, He kissed and nuzzled at her warm skin, huffing softly through his nose almost as a counterpoint to her moaning.
Casey wound her fingers back into Eli’s hair, arching her hips and wriggling a little bit, and bit her lip to try to hold back her moaning. Army, on the other hand, didn’t seem to want to hold back at all, their jaw dropped and happy moans rumbling in their chest at every movement of Eli’s fingers.
After a few moments, Eli lifted his head and pulled his hands back, fingers slick. When Army grunted unhappily, he smiled crookedly, already working at his pants. “Sorry. Can’t keep going without at least taking these off…”
Wobbling, he finally kicked his pants off, and Casey giggled, reaching up and laying a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “You’re good, no rush. We’re not going anywhere. Not that we could go anywhere fast right now anyway.”
Army laughed, nodding. “Ain’t that the truth.”
Eli smiled sheepishly at both of them, then shifted and turned to kneel facing Casey, their legs intertwined. “C’mere…” He murmured, gripping onto her hips, and Casey looked up at him, nodding and licking her lips as she leaned back a bit.
“Go ahead, babe, show me what you want.”
Eli bit back a shy smile, then nodded, hair falling in front of his face. Lowering his hips, he slowly arched and pressed his hips tightly against the base of her belly, pressing his erection against the warm and bulging mound.
Casey bit her lip and groaned softly, and Army snuggled over against her side, pressing herself up against the two of them. She grinned, whispering as she watched Eli slowly begin to rock and grind his hips against Casey’s belly.
“...Feels pretty good, huh?”
“Surprisingly, yeah…” Casey breathed, her eyelashes fluttering and her head falling over to rest on Army’s shoulder.
Army grinned, then smirked as they watched Eli working his hips and rubbing his hands in big circles around the sides of Casey’s belly. Had they looked that good when they’d done this before? Cause damn, this was fun to watch.
Eli slowly closed his eyes and scrunched his nose a little bit, curling up just slightly as he pressed himself tighter against Casey. “Mmph…god, you’re so beautiful…I love your belly, I love it so much…”
“Hnn…” Casey whimpered, arching her hips up, and Army smirked as they caught a peek of how wet she was. Thinking quickly, they arched their own hips forward, sneaking one hand between their legs while winding the other down between them and underneath Eli’s grinding hips, pressing their fingers tightly against Casey’s dripping labia and their own at the same time.
“Ah!” Casey gasped, and Army grinned, sinking down further into their reclined position, their far leg pulled up to their chest.
“There we go…hahhh…” They sighed themself, keeping their eyes half open so they could watch Eli work. They loved how he looked rocking and grinding against Casey, and how his hands squeezed and massaged at their belly almost desperately.
Feeling the movement and hearing Casey’s noises, Eli cracked open an eye, his breath catching in his throat. His movements slowed a bit as he stared at both of the bellies below him, Casey and Army slumped down with their bare stomachs on full display, legs hanging off of the couch, Army with their hands between both of their legs and Casey holding onto the couch for dear life.
It was almost too much to resist. With one movement, he pulled himself over to the side and gently eased his erection between the two bellies. He couldn’t hold back a moan, and bowed his head forward as he did so.
Army opened their eyes and grinned up at him, then peeked over at Casey to check on her. Casey’s eyes were rolled back and a dizzy smile rested on her face, and she leaned her head to the side to rest against Army’s shoulder again. “Mmh…don’t you stop, honey, that’s wonderful…” She murmured, and Army lifted their half-lidded eyes to grin up at Eli.
“You heard her.”
Like he’d been waiting for permission, Eli started up a slow but steady thrusting pace, one hand on each of their bellies. He ground against them tightly, pressing his hips against them before pulling back for the next one. His mind grew fuzzy, the only thoughts in his head being about the beautiful bellies beneath him and the amazing sounds coming out of each of them.
Casey rested one hand on one of her breasts, bouncing a little bit with the force of Eli’s grinding. “Hahh…ahhh…” She moaned, voice soft and syrupy. The combination of his thrusts and Army’s expertly exploring fingers had her whole body feeling tingly. She’d been aching for something like this ever since she got pregnant, something that made her feel sexy, not just satisfied.
Army, on the other hand, had a huge grin on their face and soft, excited grumbles and grunts rumbled in their chest as they worked at their and Casey’s clits with the pads of their fingers. Their belly lurching with every roll of Eli’s hips felt odd, but a good kind of odd. After a bit, they managed to time up the working of their fingers with his thrusts, and that was when things all went a little fuzzy.
The three were a mess of tangled limbs, bouncing bellies, hoarse mumbled praise and gasping breaths. Casey was the first to reach her climax, with a loud whimper and arch of her back, a bit of fluid squirted out between Army’s fingers as she came.
Eli was right after her, shuddering all over and bowing his head as he came onto both of their bellies, hot and sticky. He cradled and rubbed each of them with both hands, both of them shaking, and tried not to tip backward off of the couch.
Army was soon after, following up with a deep growl of their own and yanking their knee to their chest as they came, their other hand, still slick and dripping, darting over to press against the lower swell of their belly. “Nngh! Agh…”
The three of them stayed where they were, panting and trying to get their breath back, until Eli finally broke the semi-silence.
“...I should…do you want something to clean up with…?”
Army snorted, and Casey couldn’t help but smile, opening her eyes and looking up at their boy. “Uh, yeah, honey, I think that’d be good.”
“Okay…I didn’t…I didn’t hurt either of you, did I?” He asked, slowly pulling his hands away and reaching to lean on the arm of the couch as he uncurled aching legs and got to his feet.
Army shook their head and held out a sticky hand for help with getting up, which Eli took without a moment’s hesitation, tugging them to a sitting position. It was much easier for Casey to get up, though there was some huffing and puffing.
“Nah, that was pretty good.” Army grinned, looking at Casey, who nodded in agreement.
“Definitely. I wish you’d told us about this sooner.”
Both of them grinned up at Eli, who gave them a small, but genuine smile back before shuffling into the kitchen to get some hand towels.
He felt like one incredibly lucky guy.
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sircarebearalot · 3 months
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nevermore brainrot
am rereading the series bc I don’t belive in sleep (and u shouldn’t either hehe) and it got my creative juices pumping
Not to say that what I have barfed up is poetry or deserves to be called as such but like, shitty fan-fueled poetry is like the essence of tumblr so really I’m just doing my duty
Okay here’s the first one:
(this was in the maze when they were ready to quit and Pluto was saying that maybe total death wouldn’t be all bad)
(Honestly wrote it like a goddamn musical but I can’t tell u how I saw this sung)
And his eyes are dark and her eyes are glass
As I speak my truth;
I'm just saying, would it be so bad--
To be dead with you?
And time has toyed with us,
The water has pulled us under
It's time to lea (I totally just gave up bc brain rot)
It can't be so bad, just another adventure to be had
Second One;
(About will, bc like yes I know he’s not a good person but like no shit bc everyone on the webtoon is gonna be nuanced, and flawed and fucked up and that why I like it damn it, also will is just pretty (like everyone else!!!) but in a plain understated unassuming pathetic way that appeals to me.)
(this poem can be like about any of the group they belong to — the snobs— but like I saw Monty and Anabelle Lee, it’s about him not having an identity or spine of his own 💓😝)
I'll be him, I'll be her
Any whim any hurt
I will take any form
If you keep me near
I have no will of my own
Traded my soul for a home
Anything to never be alone
I'll break my bones to build your throne
Without you I'm a train without tracks
A world that's cracked
Treat my morality with a levity
Write my rules around you
I'm not a good man
I'm just a mannequin
But for you id withstand
Most anything
Last one:
(obv Monty about anabelle and then about Lenore, WHO I ADORE, u can tell bc I feel like I captured his voice you know)
Oh Queenie, you're a meanie
No, you're a real bitch
You play this game and you play it well
I won’t tell, I’m not a snitch
(And bc you’ll toss my mutilated body in a ditch)
Calamity Jane
A woman insane
Arsonist who lost her temper?
A thief in the night?
A woman took flight?
I still see those glowing embers…
(The creative juice barf fest stopped there, thank the heavens, read this out loud like a goddamn musical)
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🩸PSA🩸 I gave blood through the Red Cross recently and it was an amazing and fun and bizarre experience. I passed out and barfed but it was great because they were casually just like “it’s ok, you’re ok, your body just thinks it’s dying, you’re fine” and I’m crying and barfing and barely conscious and really leaned into this moment to see what it felt like, especially in my ✌️post-enlightenment existence✌️ lmao And you know what? Just like everything else, I made it to the other side, even drove myself home after a few juice boxes. My blood type is rare enough in the US to be helpful so I’ve decided to make this a regular part of my life routine. Super fun plus helps people. 10/10 recommend 💪 There’s a blood shortage so do please consider donating. ♥️🩸
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asshlyyyy · 1 year
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Personal Nurse
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Series Warnings: Language, drug abuse, mentions of abuse, mentions of drugs. Colonel not liking the reader, probably some medical terms are incorrect, mentions of Elvis' potential death, health terms, health issues, yelling, fighting. Spelling and grammatical errors are likely. Individual chapter warnings will appear as needed.
A/n: This is basically Just The Nurse Extended
Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part
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Chapter 2: Leaving for Graceland
You set your alarm for eight the next morning. Sure enough, the next morning around eight your obnoxious alarm went off. You thrashed your hand over to the alarm to hit it off. You rubbed your eyes awake and let out a groan. The nerves were really hitting this morning. In just an hour you would be in a car on your way to Graceland. God, you were so nervous you felt as if you were about to barf.
You pushed yourself up into a seated position and stretched your arms out. Okay, one task at a time and your nerves will lessen. You hoped that they would at least. First things first, get ready. Put on some appropriate clothes and get your hair and makeup ready. Then, get something to eat, and brush your teeth. Lastly, get your bags near the front door and say your goodbyes. Hopefully, that will all take within that hour time frame you gave yourself.
You got out of bed and looked through your closet. Most of your clothes were packed away, but you made sure to leave an outfit out for today. You got changed rather quickly and spent some time making yourself look more presentable. You wanted to make a good impression and prove that you were going to do a good job. At least you hoped your would.
After you finished getting ready you made your way to the kitchen, where your mother already was. You walked over to her and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Good morning, mama.”
‘Good morning, Y/n. You excited?” She asked as she continued to make breakfast.
“Far from it, I’m so nervous I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You answered back as you grabbed a glass from the overhead cabinet.
‘I’m sure once you get some food in your belly you’ll feel much better.”
“Or much worse,” you said as you pulled open the fridge and pulled out the orange juice. You opened the bottle and poured the orange liquid into your glass.
“Can you go wake up your siblings, please? They need to get up and ready for school.” Your mother asked. You hummed in response and drank some of your juice before leaving the kitchen.
You knocked on Mary’s door as a pre-warning and opened the door wide enough to flicker the lights. “Rise and shine, Mary. I’m leaving soon and you got to get ready for school.”
Your sister responded with a groan. You closed the door and made your way to your brothers' room. One that used to house two brothers, but at the moment it only currently houses your youngest one. You once again knocked on the door as a warning, peeped in, and flickered the lights.
“Wakey wakey Joseph. Don’t wanna miss saying bye to your older sister~” You teased and closed the door. You made your way back to your orange juice and asked your mother if she needed any help. You knew she didn’t like when people pushed onto her cooking, but she would love the outside help. Such as cleaning up and making the table.
“Go ahead and get the table ready dear.” You nodded at her request and did just that. You even started to brew the coffee. Your father was the only one to really drink coffee, but it was still a nice gesture.
“Do you have to leave, sissy?” Joseph asked as he came up to you.
“I do,” you nodded and lowered yourself down to his level. “But, I will make sure I call to check up on you.”
“Do you know when you’ll be back?” His big e/c eyes look at you.
“That is something I cannot answer. Once I know though, I’ll go ahead and tell you okay?” You smiled softly. He nodded in response and wrapped his arms around you. You returned his head and smiled. As much as a pain in the ass he was, he was such a sweet child.
“Morning champ,” your father said and rubbed Joseph on the head.
“Dad~” he whined in response. You let out a light laugh and stood up.
“Morning, dad,” you said as you looked over at him.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he smiled and kissed the top of your head. 
You were going to miss mornings like this. Sure your siblings got on your nerves something, but soon you’ll be waking up somewhere strange. A place you weren’t exactly used to, or have never been in before. You wouldn't be able to walk out to the kitchen and see your family. Instead, you'll be stuck feeding a man healthy food and bringing him back to great health. At least that was the plan at least.
"Big day, you all ready?" He asked as he went towards the coffee pot to pour himself a drink. You nodded and sat down at the table.
"Pretty sure I triple-checked my bags," You chuckled lightly. 
"I hate this whole... having to go to school thing," Your sister sighed and walked into the kitchen.
"You only have one more year... I think you can manger to suck it up." Your mother said as she placed the food on the table. You smiled and thanked your mother before placing some food onto your plate.
"I can't, the people there literally suck." Mary huffed and sat down. "All they do is talk about the ugly boys there, and cheerleading! Like,-"
"There are much bigger world problems than your high school, Mary." Your father said as he sat down as well.
"I wanna be in, Y/n's shoes. She's literally going to be living with the king! God, If I was in her position I would be the most popular girl in school." She rambled on. You shook your head and ate your food, just enjoying the last few moments you had to leave.
"That's until you have to do actually health-related things. You wouldn't know the first thing about correct vitamins and medicines." You pointed out to her as you continued to munch down on breakfast.
"Neither do I want to. I just want to live with Elvis Presley.” She admitted. You hummed and shook your head.
You finished dinner after some time and went to say your final goodbyes. Your father had to get to work, and your younger siblings had to get off to school. So, one last big hug and kiss to each of them. We’re you overreaction? Perhaps, but you also had no idea how long you would be gone.
You gathered your things to the door and waited in the living room with your mother. Your nerves were at an all-time high. Whoever said your nerves would calm down deserves to die, because they are a lair! It’s just a job, I mean, there is nothing to worry about. Besides the fact that you are nursing a man who is loved by millions of people, and if you mess up you will never see the light of day again.
There was a knock on the door and your head immediately turned toward the door. Your breathing hitched and you grasped your shirt. This was it, this was the moment. Your mother noticed your state and went to answer the door.
“Hello, can I help you?” Her voice appeared as she opened the door.
“Yes, I am here to pick up Ms. Y/l/n.” The guy responded back. You turned your head towards your mother and immediately started to shake your head. Second thoughts were starting to come in and they were coming in quickly.
“Of course, let me go get her.” Your mother closed the door and made her way over to you.
“I changed my mind, I am not going.” You told her.  She responded with a sigh and sat down next to you.
“Y/n, this is an opportunity of a lifetime. You cannot turn this down because of some nerves. You can call home whenever you’d like. I know you’re nervous, hell I would be also, but let’s be honest… You can’t live here forever. You’re already thirty,” your mother tried her best to calm your down. She ran her hand through your hair and smiled.
“Something tells me that… the best thing is going to come out from this. Now, I want you to tell yourself that you got this. You were chosen for a reason.” She pulled you into a tight bone-crushing hug. “I love you, so much.”
You returned her hug and smiled softly, “I love you too, mama.” You whispered. You eventually pulled away and wiped away any free tears. You let out a deep breath and stood up.
“Next time you see me, I’ll be on the front of the newspaper.” You smiled and walked towards the door. You picked up your bags and looked towards your mother who had tears now running down her face. She mouthed an I love you and you were quick to respond.
You pulled open the door and smiled, “hi, I’m Y/n.”
“Perfect,” the driver returned your smile, “I’m Dave. May I take your bags?” He held his hands out.
“Oh! Of course!” You gave him your luggage but kept close your medicine bag. You walked out of the apartment and closed the door. It was time for a new adventure and you couldn’t be scared of it.
“Big day huh?” Dave said as you two made your way through the building to get outside.
“Huh? Oh yeah… yeah…” You shook your head lightly as you were pulled out of thought.
“You nervous?” He then asked.
“Big time,” you awkwardly laughed, “I feel like I’m going to vomit.”
“Well don’t be too nervous. You’ll be around amazing people. I’ll be your driver for the duration of your stay. Well for the most part you’ll be by Elvis, when you need to pick up supplies or need something dropped off, you can give me a call. I’ll pick up mail, packages, anything you need.” Dave explained as you arrived at the car. You nodded listening to everything he had to say.
“Okay, so when I call my manager for an order on some medications, you’ll go and pick them up?” You doubled checked with him.
“Yes, and if you need anything from home, you can tell your parents to set it off to the side and I’ll come pick it up.” He brought up another example.
“Sounds like I’m kind of trapped there.” You chuckled lightly and got in.
“Don’t worry too much about it. It can get frustrating at some points, but it’s an amazing place to be working at.” He reassured you. You smiled softly and nodded as he closed the door.
You took another deep breath and rubbed your face. At least he answered a few of your questions. That would be fewer questions to ask Vernon once you meet him. Dave got into the driver's seat and started the car up. You lived relatively in the middle of town. Well, that's how you would describe it at least. So, to Graceland... It would take relatively twenty to thirty minutes. It really all depended on the traffic. How did you know this off memory? Well, because your sister would drag you down there sometimes to wait outside the gates... yay...
"Have you been down to Graceland yet?" Dave asked after a while.
"My sister likes to drag me down there in hopes to see the man himself." You chuckled lightly. You smiled softly and played with the hem of your shirt.
"Your sister a fan?" He raised his eyebrow.
"Ohhh big time. Don't get me wrong, I like his music... but she's a die-hard fan. She has every album, and every piece of merchandise she could get her hands on. She's crazy for that man." You told him.
"Many people are, it's sad to see him go down a path where he could possibly not return from."
"Yeah... I just hope that... I hope that I can bring him back." You leaned against the window. You had to do this... you couldn't mess this up. Not only just for the state of your career... but just for yourself... to show that you can help people and not... and not just ruin their lives forever.
You just didn't want to let your family down. You didn't want to let down Vernon... or all the millions of fans Elvis had. God, you really wished you wouldn't fuck this up.
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Mutual Taglist: @babyhoneypresley, @emmymaehereeeeee, @venus-haze, @austinstyles
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