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#two dumb guys tuesday

rosepinks-world · 1 year

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‘𝐼 𝐿𝐼𝒦𝐸 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒢𝐼𝑅𝐿𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟 𝒮𝐼𝑅’ / Simon Riley x Female! Reader

Summary: After weeks of guessing what Ghost’s girlfriend would do for work they finally find out when they meet you, much to Ghost’s dismay.

Ghost had, had it.

He was dumb enough to answer a call from you in front of Soap and Gaz, not thinking anything of it but he was wrong.

The little shits had been non stop attempting to guess what his girlfriend looked like and what she would do for a work for nearly the whole week now.

Tuesday:

‘A goth maybe!’ Soap shouted out of nowhere

‘Oh you’re right there mate! Goth girls are fit!’

‘Can you pricks stop playing guess who and keep your fucking mouths shut.’

Wednesday:

‘Sir is your girlfriend a therapist?’ Gaz inquired.

‘Oh yeah! Maybe that’s how they met.’

‘Soap keep your fucking mouth shut.’

Thursday:

‘Oh! I know! She’s a teacher!’

‘You’ve cracked it!’ Ghost replied with fake enthusiasm.

‘Really?

‘No. Keep your eyes on the fucking road.’

It was now Friday, the squad had bagged a weekend off and were eager to get their work done so they could fully relax. And of course, Simon stupidly left his files at home.

So when he’d asked you to bring them to him he made sure to tell you to come through the back entrance (to avoid Soap and Gaz) but of course they were the first two you saw when you entered the building.

‘Why hello there miss! What can I do for you?’

You awkwardly smiled, ‘Um I’ve just brought these in for my boyfriend he forgot them at home.’

Soap took a look at the files and his heart dropped. There were some fucked up things in those files why would your boyfriend just let you have them?

‘Whose the lucky guy? And why would he let you see those?’

You laughed, ‘Simon Riley. And trust me I’ve seen worse.’

‘Oh my fucking god! Gaz!’

The man named Gaz turned around from where he was standing. ‘What.’

The man with the Mohawk repeatedly pointed at you with a big smile on his face. ‘Ghosts girlfriend!’

Gaz immediately ran over to you and started asking you a million questions.

‘You guys are very sweet -in a way but can you just tell me where Simon is and I’ll answer your questions.’

Soap grabbed your hand and dragged you to Ghosts office as quick as he could because he wanted to get answers immediately.

When Ghost looked up he groaned.

Was he happy to see you? Without a doubt

Was he happy to see you with his very inquisitive co workers? No comment.

‘Simon, I have your files.’ you said handing them to him

‘Thanks love.’ He replied pulling out a chair for you to join him at his desk.

You both awkwardly turned to Gaz and Soap as they were just stood there staring at the two of you smirking.

‘You two. Out.’

‘Yes sir.’ Gaz said immediately going to walk out but Soap held the door handle.

‘Sir I will never bother you ever again-‘

‘I find that hard to believe.’ He interrupted and you laughed.

‘Just please let me ask her one question.’

He rolled his eyes

‘That’s fine with me but ask Y/n first.’

Soap looked to you and you nodded. ‘Ask away mate.’

‘What do you do for work?’

Ghost scoffed and you looked at him confused but still answered.

‘I’m a forensic pathologist.’

They gave you a blank expression.

‘I do autopsies, collect evidence from crime scenes to do tests on.’

They finally picked up on it.

‘Oh my god! That’s so cool.’

Gaz was all ears, ‘What’s the most fucked up thing you’ve seen.’

‘One question lad.’ Ghost said gesturing to the door.

You laughed. ‘This won’t be the last you’ll see of me boys, Laswell actually requested my help for this mission so don’t worry you can ask me more questions.’

When Gaz and Soap finally left you turned to your boyfriend.

‘They’re sweet.’

‘Are they?’

‘Oh don’t lie you love them really.’

At the end of the day, Ghost walked you to the exit and waved you goodbye.

‘See you when you get home! Love you.’ You said

‘Love you too.’ He replied and as soon as he turned around his two friends stood eagerly behind him.

The pair were laughing and smiling untill they noticed the look their mate was giving them.Gaz was now shitting himself and didn’t want to dig his grave any further but Soap tried to sweet talk him.

‘I like your girlfriend sir. You did well she’s… wow.’

‘Shut up Soap fucking hell.’

(Mick and Stacy Thomson. Mick reminds me of ghost in a way.)

#Spotify #mw2 x reader #ghost cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction

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hai7ani · 3 months

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just thinkin bout how fwb/colleague!Rindou gets so hard at the work party in a random bar when you drag him to the back by his tie to kiss him absolutely stupid because you just cannot help yourself.

he's a little red and dumb after finishing all of your remaining glasses for you and you're pushing your breasts against his sturdy chest. his dick grows hard in his pants and you're giggling because it poked your thigh. so you break away from the kiss and look him in the eye. "take me back to yours, Rin." he grows warm under your seductive gaze, under your gentle touch as your red acrylics lightly scratches across his cheeks. there's lipstick in his favourite shade all over his face and the sight makes your heart swell a little ー a big red print of your juicy lips resides on his left cheek and another one on his collar ー he's yours to touch, yours to fuck, yours to kiss. though you're no better yourself either, sore waist and hips gripped so tight by his strong and impatient hands that you're sure there'd be imprints left under your clothes, hair messy from sweat, and your panty is wet.

he smirks when he catches you rubbing your thighs together a little, "like you gotta ask." and he's scooping you up by your butt the moment you grin in excitement and the both of you are escaping out the backdoor, to his car, without bidding your goodbyes for the night to your other colleagues. "i'm gonna fuck you real stupid tonight." he whispers in your ear as soft wind breezes past your bodies, and you only hum as a reply before sucking deep purples onto his jaw.

Rindou doesn't wait till the both of you get back to his. had a man knock on the car window because the poor guy thought that a random Civic parked in the parking lot at 11pm on a random Tuesday night had been possessed by a demon. turns out it was just two drunk and in-love-without-themselves-knowing bastards fucking in the backseat. when Rindou looks up at the knock with you conveniently clearing the fogged up screen when you'd slapped a palm on the window out of bliss, he'd given that man a shock of his life, gave the two of you a good laugh for a minute.

10/10, would try again.

this is connected to something im working on 🫢

#mhm.#brainrot #寫作 #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut

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idesofrevolution · 5 months

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Sweat and Polyester

Siyu Jiang was in love. After moving to the United States from Guangzhou to get his degree in Software Engineering, it was a hard pill to swallow that he was less than stellar at mingling with his peers. Guangzhou was a mega city, easy for him to blend in and mind his own business, busy enough for him to get a contact-high of sorts to feed his need for socialization. New Orleans on the other hand, while not a small town per se, felt tiny and almost claustrophobic to him. Everyone knew eachother, and everyone took the time to chat, go out, have a drink or a blunt, 'fraternize' if you catch my drift... and Siyu quietly observed from a distance, watching the world bustle by.

That is, until he saw Eduardo. In China, he had never felt attracted to men. Perhaps it was the somewhat hostile environment for queer folks, or perhaps it was New Orleans' more laissez-faire attitude about stuff like that, but when the new semester started and he walked into that chemistry class, it was like fireworks erupted from his eyes. Eduardo was on the basketball team, pretty great at it too. He was tall, he was fit, he had those big brown eyes that made Siyu see sideways. When he plopped down in his seat next to Siyu, still in the gym clothes he'd worn to practice an hour or so before and wafting the subtle scent of salty musk from his tattooed body, their eyes met for the first time. A simple smile and a gentle introduction made Siyu's heart flutter, he was laid back and spoke effortlessly with a relaxed and friendly demeanor. Over the first two weeks or so sitting next to him, Eduardo had really helped Siyu feel less alone and less isolated, simply by being kind and taking the time to strike up a conversation with him.

It wasn't long before Siyu was beneath the bleachers in the basketball court, watching a sweaty, jovial Eduardo shoot hoops and practice with the team. It was no secret around campus that Eduardo was bisexual, having streams of girls as well as several teammates going in and out of his dorm room all the time. As mentioned before, the people around there talk, and from what Siyu had overhead, he was a giver and one of the best beds in town. This only added fuel to his fire, as his obsessive love for this sweet, oblivious jock boy grew stronger with each whisper of his name and bounce of the orange ball.

Thus it came to be on that Tuesday evening on a cold November night that Siyu decided to make Eduardo love him. Though, there was a problem. Outside of the obvious signs: him being on the basketball team, him fucking anything that moved, him always have the subtle whiff of reefer about him, and some of the company he'd keep, Siyu really knew nothing of Eduardo's interests. Worse even, the ones he did know about were far outside of his own. Siyu was simply too different of a person to snag his crush's attention. Thus, he focused on who did catch his eye.

Enter Ethan Lafferty. Ethan was everything Siyu wasn't: muscular, tall (even more than the 6'2 Eduardo), confident, cocky even. He was point guard on the team, and Eduardo's best friend. The two couldn't have been more different. Eduardo was sweet, kind, relaxed, a flirt, everyone's favorite guy. Ethan on the other hand, was brash, loud, dumb as a box of rocks, stank of a locker room at high noon, and spent most of his time either banging the entire cheerleading squad on a livestream or downing bottles of Jameson and snorting mountains of cocaine at some hole in the wall bar in the French Quarter. Despite their completely polar personalities, the two were nearly inseparable. It always came off as peculiar that such a stereotypical straight alpha dude bro would be best friends with a queer guy, even if they were teammates.

Siyu began to frequent the duo's hoop sessions, masked in darkness beneath the cavernous space beneath the seats, taking notes on his phone of what he could observe. In his mind, he saw himself as a horny, gay Jane Goodall: observing the hot boys in their natural habitat, and how they interact. Their relationship became clearer over time. Eduardo would be the first to arrive, sitting on the bench and scrolling through his phone until Ethan would burst through the gymnasium door, holding his smelly red shoes and making a loud fuss about whatever girl he'd 'bedded' the night before. The two would sit on the bench, side by side, laughing at Ethan's shitty and demeaning jokes while he threw his arm around Eduardo's neck and ruffled his hair. Even from the clandestine cave he'd hidden away in, he could see Eduardo blush just at Ethan's touch. It was beyond him what a brute like Ethan brought to the table, but Siyu realized whatever it was, Eduardo was into it. If being like that mouthbreathing, smelly dumbass was what would make Eduardo love him, then so be it.

He started to wear a gold chain and earrings, just like Ethan. Sure, the earring was a clip on, and the necklace was cheap plate, but Eduardo quickly complimented him once he'd noticed a few days into it. He started to wear athletic shirts and shorts, some that he'd stolen from the dormitory laundry bin of course, but he'd hoped the effect would sink in. Eduardo didn't take as much of a notice of this, and thus began the diminishing returns of Siyu's efforts. He stopped wearing deodorant, thinking his own pheromones would compete, which they didn't. Not even an acknowledgement. He sketched marker tattoos on his arm, saying he was trying out designs to see what worked. He received a raised eyebrow and silence. The more he tried desperately to impress Eduardo, the less and less it seemed to make a difference. Frankly, he noticed Eduardo pulling away. Their nice little chats before lecture started to disappear, the friendly knuckle bump he would get as they ran into each other in the quad quickly followed suit. The more he tried to be Ethan, telling oddly misogynistic jokes and sipping whiskey from his water bottle in class... the more Eduardo wanted nothing to do with him.

It made no sense to him. He was doing everything right. When Ethan did it on the court, or in the dining hall, or in the library, or even in his dorm room as Siyu had his ear pressed against the door; Eduardo ate it up, his big brown eyes looked at him like he was the most lovely creature on earth. When Siyu tried it, it was met with an awkward glance and a miserable nod. He was losing him. All the work was for naught. It was time to take drastic measures.

Siyu searched high and low through every academic paper he could find in that library to find a way to make someone love him. When that came up with dead ends, he searched how to change your personality, which supplied an equal amount of nothing. Psychology, philosophy, sociology, anthropology, neuroscience, even religion... nothing he found seemed to address his quandary. That's when he dug into the dark corners of the library itself: the occult, cults, mysticism, mythology, demonology... That's when he finally came across it. The key. The knight in shining armor. The solution to his problem.

Siyu was absent from class that Friday, the only day he'd ever missed in Chemistry. He was far too busy preparing for what was to go down that evening in the gym. From sun up to sun down, he was squirreled away in his dark dorm room, a single light on his desk illuminating the old archaic book. To his left, the culmination of his research, a small spray bottle filled with a strange yellow liquid. His trash bin was filled with empty envelopes from Indonesia, Mozambique, Paraguay, Lesotho, Norway, and Russia. Remnants of a shopping spree of esoteric ingredients so outlined in the ancient texts, all of which were less than simple and far beyond illegal to obtain. Though, to Siyu, it mattered not. This was to be his final act, there were no consequences that would matter after it was all over.

As 7:30 struck, as expected, Eduardo entered the gym, setting his bag onto the shining wooden floor and scrolling through his socials. Siyu crouched in his standard spot in the shadows, watching Eduardo's feet bounce absentmindedly mere inches from him as he waited for his friend. It didn't take long, as Ethan kicked open the door, shouting his typical "Bruh! You're not gonna believe what happened last night." Siyu turned off his ears, uninterested in hearing yet another story about ecstasy, booze, and his weird thing for Charlize Theron's legs. Instead, he took the little plastic cap off the spray bottle, and sat silently beneath Ethan as he put on his stinking shoes. As he sat there, talking about absolutely nothing of substance, Siyu spritzed his feet gently with the concoction. He didn't notice a thing, continuing to chide and play around with Eduardo as Siyu sprayed the back of his legs and shorts, then his shirt and finally the back of his neck through the holes in the bleachers. By the time they got up and began to play their game, Ethan was entirely unaware he was coated with the elixir.

Ethan and Eduardo had a particularly impressive match between them. Eduardo had to keep up with Ethan's frantic energy, which he'd never had a problem with before. Hoop after hoop, he would scream and shout, rubbing it in his friend's laughing face. It was their best hoop sesh yet, fitting it would be their last. Go out on a bang, thought Siyu, as that energy quickly began to deplete. Before long, Ethan had complained about his knee giving out before he could dunk.

"Fuck, bruh. I guess kicking your ass tired me the fuck out!" Eduardo laughed at his friend, pushing his head down as he walked past.

"Your coke is wearing off I bet. I haven't seen you play like that in a long time, man! What the fuck did you take?" Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, a subtle ache beginning to radiate at the base of his skull.

"I didn't take anything, fucktard! I'm just that good, and you needed a reminder." The two laughed like morphine-riddled hyenas, before plopping back down on the bench above Siyu. Their delectable scent washed down atop him like a waterfall of pheromones. "But I may need a minute, huhu."

"Yeah man, take a breather. Wouldn't want you to get too exhausted before tomorrow's game." Eduardo winked as he picked up his bag, saying his goodbye before walking out the side door, leaving Ethan massaging his aching wet feet on the bench. It was time. Siyu slowly made his way out from beneath the bleachers, his cheap shoes squeaking on the court as he approached Ethan.

"What does he see in you?" Siyu strolled over to Ethan, who chuckled to himself as he put his socked foot back into his shoe.

"Ahh fuck, man. What the fuck are you doing here?" Ethan was panting. To him, he had a hard workout. To Siyu, the elixir was working.

"You are awful, Ethan. You're rude, you're crass, you treat others like shit, and you smell. You're a real keeper, aren't you?" Ethan turned to Siyu, his indifferent expression melting away to indignancy. He jumped from his seat, ready to pound this 5 foot nerd into oblivion, until that damned knee gave out again, toppling him back onto the bench.

"Fuck. You better be thankful I'm tapped after that workout, fucker. You should thank me really, you'd be in the ground by now." Siyu stared with absolute apathy, knowing fully well he would not be brutalized by this waning star.

"You're scum, but he would do anything for you. I can't figure out why, trust me I've tried. But you have something going on in that empty brain of yours that he can't get over." Ethan turned and snickered under his breath.

"I know you. You're that little fuckin' cocksucker who's stalking Eddy, aren't you? See-who or whatever your fuckin' name is. Listen, buddy, I'll just tell you. He's not interested, alright? You have nothing he's looking for, so just leave him the fuck alo..." Ethan tried once more to stand, only for his legs to once again give out. "Fuck! What the fuck is going on?" Siyu smirked.

"I know. I'm not what he's looking for, again: I have tried. But you are what he's looking for, and you don't even see it." Siyu walked closer to the sweating jock, dripping from every pore as if he were in the throws of scarlet fever. "I've decided to do something about that, Ethan. You're no good for a guy that's as incredible and lovely and glorious as Eduardo, and I'm going to make sure that whatever it is you have that I don't gets put to good use." Ethan looked down at his legs, growing smaller and frail by the second. It looked as if he were melting, his skin sagging, his muscles deflating, his body just sinking into a puddle of sweat on the floorboards. Whatever slurs he wished he could launch at Siyu were caught in his collapsing throat as he gurgled and bubbled. Siyu watched with a gleeful malice, watching the top competitor sink into a puddle of his own fetid sweat. There was but one single glance of abject rage from Ethan's face before it too had plummeted to the ground, leaving behind his sopping wet clothes and a silent gymnasium. Siyu took a couple of seconds to just breathe and bask in his success. He looked down at the clothes and shoes, wafting his enemy's pungent scent, imbued by the puddle of his own essence he'd become.

Now full of excitement, with a pep in his step, he gathered the dripping clothes and shoes, slipping them into Ethan's gym bag before stealing away into the night. He quickly found himself bolting across the quad, hoping and praying no one saw him with another student's bag in his possession. Bursting into the dormitory, he ran up the stairs to his floor, taking a moment to breathe before he gingerly opened the hall door. Tip toeing ever so quietly down the carpeted hallway, praying at the last minute he wouldn't be caught by a languid R.A. or a drunk neighbor. The universe, it seems, was on his side that evening, as he unlocked his door and slipped in entirely unseen. Collapsing onto his bed, the heavy and damp bag sat next to him, radiating heat from within it's shiny plastic confines. It was time to finish this.

He turned to the bag, slowly unzipping it, allowing the dank, wet air within to rush out into his room. Ethan must have lived out of this bag, as it was filled with basketball shorts, sweatshirts, socks, shoes, blender bottles filled with protein shakes, and of course the lone sweat-soaked joint at the bottom. Siyu began shucking the wayward clothes onto his chair across the room, pleased to know he would have a couple of outfits that would fit him once this was all over. He emptied out the bag until the Ethan-infused clothes were all that was left in the bottom of the bag, swimming in a puddle of musky liquid.

Siyu smirked as he took out each piece, laying them out on the ground one by one. Tee shirt. Shorts. Disgusting jock strap. Ripe socks. Even riper sneakers. Finishing it off with the gold chain and single earring. It was all there. Rushing to his desk, Siyu grabbed the very last component to his plan: two facemasks, one white and one black. These two would be the final inoculation that would keep his changes permanent over time. Two weeks of breathing it in, letting it merge with his own essence, he would ensure that the new Siyu would be around long enough to ensnare his sweetheart. He bent down, picking up the jockstrap and a sock, both still dripping, and wringing out a sizeable amount of the stinking sweat to fall onto each mask. The stage was set, the materials were prepped, and it was time to make himself the perfect soulmate for Eduardo.

He started with the jockstrap. Even post-wringing, it still sat warm and damp, yellowed with the sweat and cum that had long sunk into it's fibers. Putting his two lithe feet into the straps, he nervously pulled up, droplets of the sweat rolling down his hairless legs before it fit loosely on his skinny waist. The change was immediate. There was no momentary ounce of silence and some slow change. No, his groin immediately ballooned out, the pouch quickly filling and pushing out tout against the wet fabric. His ass inflated loudly, the sounds of stretching and creaking rubber marked the expansion of his flat rear into two round and hairy orbs like basketballs on a shelf. Siyu gingerly groped his ass, dripping in sweat from the wiry hairs he'd never before had sprout out of his smooth skin. He cackled loudly, pulling the front strap forward, and peering into his hammock. He was met with a long, uncut python and two egg sized balls wafting out his new masculine cocksmell.

Now entirely intrigued, blinded by a sense of foreign hubris he'd long suppressed, he grabbed the shirt, slipping it over his head in one quick motion. The shirt quickly started to quake, turning from white to black, before his arms dropped like sacks of potatoes. Two firm pecs burst out from beneath the slick fabric, followed by his shoulders widening to twice it's former length. Siyu continued his moans of hedonistic pleasure, while his arms bulked up: firm but lean biceps and forest of hair growing from his forearms down to his wrists, before tattoos sprouted down his tan skin. He held out his hands, raucously laughing as his fingers lengthened, callouses appearing on his sweaty palms, and veins snaking wildly all the way up his arms.

"Interesting." Siyu's insane laughter ceased immediately. His eyes darted around the dark room, searching for the voice which had loudly billowed out of the shadows. "Fuck, bruh I thought I was dead fucking meat back there. But shit, it looks like you fucked up your little recipe didn't you?" Siyu's hands began to slowly clap, not at all under his full control.

"What the fuck? Where are you? How are you here?" His sweaty hand clasped over his mouth, sticking his middle finger into his mouth like gag.

"Aww, Siyu. What's wrong, buddy? You didn't wanna get rid of me, did ya? Nahhh. You wanted to BE me." His left hand grasped the shorts, slowly pulling them up his legs while his calves and quads burst out, covered in a thick carpet of black hairs. He shot up in height, easily breaking 6' 3" in seconds. He looked down, the height disorienting him as he gagged himself. "You got your wish, fucker. Kind of, at least. See, you thought you could turn me into a puddle and wear my shit, get all swole and dope as fuck, and what... He'd fall in love with you?" Siyu's eyes widened in terror. "Yeah, fucker I can see it all! I'm in here with you now. I can see how you jacked off to the idea of him plowing your ass after a long game. I can see how you followed him all over fucking town all the time. I can see how you thought some fuckin' magic bullshit would make you like me so you could force him to love you. Gotta say, that's some fucked up shit killing off your crush's best friend so you have no competition." Siyu's body bent over, picking up the socks, before plopping down onto the chair, surrounded by Ethan's clothes.

"See, you think I didn't know Eddy was into me? You think we didn't jack off together in our rooms when we needed a release? You think I wasn't into him too?" The hands slipped on the sopping wet socks, as his feet started soak up Ethan's sweaty essence, quickly followed by the nasty red shoes. As the laces were tied snug, his feet began to crack and swell, his arch growing tall and his toes lengthening out. Tattoos sprawled over the tops of his stinking feet and ankles, as the red fabric quickly turned orange, widening and lengthening even larger than Ethan's, until they were two massive size 15's. "Heheh, he likes feet, just so you know. Right when we get home after a long day, he loves it when I peel off my shoe and shove his face in it." Siyu felt his hand pinch his cheeks, and his middle finger caress his tongue in his mouth. "Thing is, Siyu, I was straight. I only had eyes for pussy, and fuck bruh, I knew how to stick my dick in it. I liked it when he sucked my nasty cock clean, but you know, it was just something between bros, you know?" Siyu slapped his meaty thighs, standing up tall and picking up the white facemask there on the ground. Tears ran down his terrified face as his own hands drew it closer.

"But now that I'm here, now that you and I are one, I think you may be right, dude." Siyu moaned against the hand over his mouth, just before it slipped out and grasped the other side of the mask. "I think we and Eddy are gonna be soulmates." He shrieked as the mask adhered over his nose and chin, and around his ears. Siyu could do nothing as he felt his brows lowering, his greasy hair falling out of his chiseled skull, quickly replaced by a sweaty black fade. His lips pillowed out as his long, meaty tongue licked them as he smirked with his pearly white teeth. Siyu could feel Ethan's consciousness wrap around him, like a tight latex suit compressing him tighter and tighter and tighter, until he visualize Ethan finally penetrating him. He pulled down his shorts and began to pump his greasy dick, while Ethan made himself at home inside of Siyu. Their traits intermingling with eachother- merging everything between them that would have made them distinct, now creating an amalgamation of both. As his balls began to shudder, pre cum dripping from his hooded cockhead, there was no more Ethan, and there was no more Siyu.

The first volley of spunk shot from his dick, memories of fucking gals on the weekends and guys on the weekdays solidified in his mind. Second volley of spunk, a sense of cocky self assurance swelled within him, though washed with a sense of empathy and camaraderie to mellow him out. Third volley of spunk, he was booksmart in his IT classes, but dumb as a box of rocks, choosing to funnel his free time out of class into the team and chilling out with his bros. Fourth volley of spunk, he loved Eduardo. That sweet, adorable, kinky little fuck was the apple of his eye, and he'd do anything for him. Though, he couldn't get too lovey dovey, he knew all too well that being chased and obsessed over was the quickest way to turn him off. He would happily tease, flirt, kiss, suck and fuck him, but he would let Eddy come to him. Fifth and final volley, his identity now centralized and firm: he was Shan Eoyang, a Chinese exchange student on scholarship for basketball. He was cool, he was hot, he was the golden hearted bad boy that made everyone around him go wild. The world was his oyster, and he would be there with his man by his side, and the various others who would worship at their sweaty masculine feet. He opened his eyes, and Shan took his first deep breath, taking in his own scent embedded into his mask.

"Fuuuuuuuck dude, that's good." He slipped his cock back into his dirty jockstrap, knowing all too well that Eddy would be into it when they finally met up. Bringing his fingers to his ears, he came perilously close to prying off his mask, though something in the back of his mind told him it probably wasn't the best idea. He pulled out his phone, not recognizing it whatsoever. It had his boyfriend's face as the screensaver, but it wouldn't take his password or fingerprint. Must be the previous tenant's phone, he thought to himself, as he opened the window and chucked it from the building. He'd run out and get one in the morning before class, as he had a bunch of scholarship money to burn.

---

Eduardo waited outside the basketball court, wondering where Ethan was. It was almost 8, and while he was never particularly adept at being on time, he would have at least texted. He looked down at his phone, scrolling through his Grindr, looking for whoever was available after hoops. Ethan would definitely let him suck him off in the locker room, but meh, that wasn't really going anywhere anyway. Thankfully, Siyu wasn't in class, apparently he'd dropped out from what the professor had said. At minimum he was relieved that the creepy little guy wasn't going to be following him home at night anymore.

Just as he was preparing to call it a night, the door burst open at the end of the hall. He turned to give Ethan a hard time for being so late, but the man before him was not Ethan. He was the tall, dark, and handsome archetype personified. He sauntered over to him with a confident stride, oozing a sense of pride and sexual energy.

"Oh... shit man. You uh, you caught me off guard. I was just waiting for my friend." The man approached Eduardo with smiling eyes behind the black facemask on his chin.

"You're Eddy, right? I'm a new student, just got on the basketball team. Coach says you might be able to show me around the place, if you're down of course? Name's Shan." Shan leaned against the wall, letting his hand rest on his neck, and smirking beneath the fabric as his sharp pit musk wafted at his gorgeous new teammate. Eduardo, happily letting in the stud's scent, lapped it up and shuddered.

"Yeah, man. I'm so down, I'm Eduardo. Friends call me Eddy." Shan leaned in close, their noses now inches from eachother.

"Eddy, then. Sounds like a good time, someone like you would probably be able to show me a lot." Shan winked, and Eddy blushed a bright red, nodding gingerly. "Well shit, how's about we shoot a couple hoops, we go back to my room and we show eachother around, what do you say?" Eduardo looked down, seeing Shan's massive well worn sneakers, which had inched their way to his own until they were firmly touching. Oh shit yeah, this guy was perfect.

"I say fuck yeah, man. Show me what you're made of." Eddy made the move, letting his fingers slowly touch Shan's forearm. Happily received, Shan ruffled his soon-to-be boyfriend's hair, as if it were second nature.

"Oh I'm gonna kick your ass on the court. We'll see what I do with it when we're done." He slapped Eddy's back, tossing his sweaty arm around his shoulder as the two walked into the court. They would be inseparable once again, and yet inseparable for the first time.

#male transformation #body transformation #male possession #original #transformation #musk #body possession #musky #gay transformation #male tf #bisexual transformation #basketball #jockification #clothing tf #college #merging #body merging

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webslingingslasher · 7 months

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banner made by: @thursdaygxrls

because of the character count (145,091) and tumblrs format skills (it's shit) i had to adjust some sizing but i wanted all of this in one part.

CHAPTER ONE: BRUJA

PETER PARKER’S FIRST WEEK.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH

Steve Jobs is lucky he’s dead.

Because if he wasn’t, he’d have to deal with a pissed off Peter Parker woken up with a brooding hangover by the screeches of marimba.

Peter wasn’t sure whose idea it was to throw a goodbye summer bash the night before classes started but he wishes them death. A ‘goodbye summer' party, what a dumb fucking idea. It’s college, every day is summer. If he’s picked up anything from being with the frat for two years it’s that they’ll make up any excuse to party.

International Women’s Day? Guys can only get in if they’re half naked.

Valentine’s Day? Singles dress as cupid, couples in red and pink.

Friday the 13th? Horror movie character costumes only.

St. Patrick's Day? That’s what those guys lived for.

It didn’t matter what it was, if there was cause for celebration and drinking, it was going to be a party. Trying to ease a headache he rubbed his temples, it did nothing and proved useless when someone banging a spoon and pot in the kitchen made his ears ring.

“Chapter meeting! Chapter meeting! Chapter-” Peter yelled as loud as he could, “shut the fuck up!” His head throbbed.

God, he fucking hated the start of the year, all the new people coming in sucking up to him and everyone else in the frat. The secondary members used it to their advantage, most of the officers didn’t impress easily, only using them when they felt like laughing at someone desperately trying to please.

He had to redo the entire budget, and had to run through the same health and safety meeting that would get ignored, and then he’d have to get physical when someone pushed the rules a little too far.

Peter had a hangover from hell and almost gagged getting up from bed, shuffling towards his bedroom door in just sweatpants. Yawning and scratching at his scalp as he walked down the stairs, he made the routine walk to the meeting room door that was open, a hidden room behind a bookcase, only chapter officers allowed.

The room was dark, a gigantic oak table took up the center of the room, black leather chairs surrounded. The frats name and logo grinded into the middle. A pool table in one corner, a bar in the back and several leather couches. Peter took his seat and nodded at his friend next to him, the chapter president paced the front of the room with notes, when the last guy entered the door was shut behind him.

“Welcome to the hunt boys, we waited all year for this.”

Trent Simpson, chapter president. Deep alumni, the fraternity in his family for generations.

“Before we start the meeting, please state who you are and your role on the board. Obviously, I’m Trent Simpson, your president.”

“Matt Paul, chapter vice president.”

“Nick Aaron, secretary.”

“Ethan Keznek, sergeant-at-arms.”

“Peter Parker, treasurer and health and safety officer.”

“Tarrent Bakner, recruitment chairman.”

“James Hasco, housing officer.”

“Booker Thomas, membership development.”

Trent clapped his hands and motioned to the black folder everyone had. “Welcome to the first meeting of our rushing season for Sigma Nu. In each of your folders you’ll see our potential new members, if you don’t see anyone you like, time to tell me is now.”

Peter eyed the page, only one thing set him off. Ted and Harry Linus, twins. He hated twins, last year he had gotten put in the middle of so many fights he swore he’d never let twins back in his house.

Peter’s hand jotted up, clicking his pen quickly. “Nix the twins.” Trent crossed out the names with a sharpie, “nixed.”

“Next are the outline of our weeks with the rush, and hazing schedules. Parker, I want you and Keznek to print up the chapter handbooks.” Ethan held his fist up towards Peter, he tapped his knuckles on his and looked over the schedule.

“Finally, and this is a new one. I acquired a friend that can get some hard to get info really easily, so what you see in front of you is every fraternity's event.”

Interesting, that’s a pretty hard thing to get your hands on, let alone fifteen. Fraternity events were highly competitive, and if they had every event in their back pocket they could be number one.

Peter fought back a yawn, he wanted nothing more than another two hours of sleep. But his day began here, in a chapter officer meeting, on a Tuesday, with a hangover and only time to prepare for class. God, he really didn’t want to go to class today. He can barely remember what he signed up for.

“... again, that’ll be next Tuesday, and like usual, freshman welcome on Friday. Any more questions before we close?”

Booker’s hand goes up, “what about the sororities?”

“Great question, we’ll only be circling with Zeta and Omega.”

Peter nods approvingly, that’s nice to hear. Last year they partnered with four sororities and even the party guys were getting a little overwhelmed. It sucked they had to use the frat houses for parties but they chipped in and bought way better alcohol, not to mention all the fucking girls, it was truly pick of the litter.

Matt Paul shoots out, “can we please promise each other right now we won’t have another Sara situation?”

There was a reason Peter had two positions, Logan Leeman freaked out when Sara Niks dumped him. Actually went full blown nuts and had to be carted off in an ambulance, no one’s heard from him since.

“God that was awful, I mean, he knew the chick for what, four months?”

Peter nodded absentmindedly at Nick’s comment, disconnecting from the conversation and running numbers through his head. His attention was brought back when Trent smacked his gavel on the soundblock.

“We’re back baby, and it’s open fucking season. One, two, three,”

The brotherhood chanted, “Sig Nu!”

—------------

Peter’s rinsing shampoo out of his hair when someone bangs on his bathroom door, he calls out over the rushing water, “yeah?”

“Hey, some of the guys and I are gonna hit up the food hall before we gotta split, you down?”

He can’t lie, the dining hall is damn good. He’s missed the breakfast burritos, and Linda. She’s been working in the kitchen at the university for over twenty years, he got to talking to her one day and now goes out of his way to give her a hello. He can’t wait to catch up and tell her all about his summer, and fuck, he’d kill for an orange juice. Oh god, he has to do so much grocery shopping.

“Yeah, give me ten minutes!” As if on command his stomach growls, he’s reminded of his hangover and he has physics in two hours. At least the shower’s warm. It’s his saving grace.

University has been good on Peter, he looks like he belongs; top dog on campus feels good. He fills out his frat tee better this year, spidey working double time this summer to make up for the slow six months he’s about to have. Heather gray and red detailing, his pants black, and a signature white snapback. He should’ve gotten a haircut, but he chose to drink like an idiot. The night was fun though, it was worth it in the moment.

Taking a final glance, Peter tucks the chain around his neck into his shirt, and takes a deep breath before his first day of his junior year starts.

He’s ready.

—----------------

“Did anyone see Trevor slam his head against the wall last night or was that just me?”

“You mean Lopes?” Peter really wishes he was around to see that.

Hasco is on level ten, Peter’s convinced he’s off a bump or two of coke, he’s just a tad too twitchy for his liking. “Bro, he just bounced that fucker off the wall. Stared at me and did it. No fucking reason. He’s fucking crazy.”

Peter snorts, “why, was he off the powder?” He bites down on his bottom lip when his friends toss him around by his shoulders giving soft ‘oo’s’ at his jab. Hasco flips him the bird, “even if he was, that’s fucked up, right?”

Keznek follows up, “you think he’d do it again if i asked?”

Nick pipes up, “ten down on yes,” Tarrent raises a finger, “coked up or sober?”

“Does it matter?”

Tarrent nods, “fair enough.”

Peter cuts through the bullshit, “can we please talk about Simpson and the fucking list this year? Thirty two people is such bullshit, at this point it’s just a dick measuring contest with Alpha Delta.”

Hasco sniffs as he nods his head, “yeah, not to mention all the fucking shuffling. Too many people for no reason, especially because we’re cutting twelve almost immediately.” Nick scoffs, “you’re telling me, I have to keep track of every motherfucker going in and out.”

Peter’s best friend lets out a refreshing sigh, “I got the best job, I just make sure Tarrent does his job.” Hasco barks back, “shut the fuck up, Keznek.”

“If I may, I have the worst out of all of you combined. I have to keep track of every fucking receipt, everyone’s dues, every god damn bill. Then I get to sit around and try to teach consent to a bunch of brain dead eighteen year olds.”

“And safety! Don’t forget all the fights you had to break up last year.”

It’s just so fucking tiring sometimes, but he’s the reason he and the entire frat have a place to sleep. “Thanks for the reminder, Nick.” Nick claps his shoulder, “anytime, bud.” Tarrent starts humming, “I’m getting so much food, you have no idea.”

“I’m doubling down on burritos.”

Ethan sucks in a breath, “me too.”

Tarrent opens the doors to the dining hall and voices explode, overlapping chatter from every corner. It pierced through his ears and stabbed at his headache, Hasco sniffs and nods his head impressively, “fuck yeah,” bumping Peter’s shoulder when he walked in.

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Ethan holds back a chuckle at Peter’s audible mumble, choosing to mock Hasco instead, nodding at Peter walking by, “fuck yeah, man.”

Peter nods towards Paul, sitting at a table with his girlfriend and who he assumes are her friends, he doesn’t care enough to actually look. Paul barely gives him a wave between inhaling his burrito, he’s gotten three, meaning he has to do an impressive four, unless Tarrents goes for four, then he’s maxing out at five.

Things you learn in a frat, it’s the little things that mean the most dominance wise.

He hangs at the back of the line so he can catch up with his favorite lunch lady on campus, until the closer he gets he can’t see her. Moving his head back and forth but coming up short he assumes she’s in the kitchen. She usually worked the register in the morning and afternoon, but he supposes new year, a new schedule.

Peter slides through the line with six breakfast burritos and a fruit cup, because it’s all about balance. Giving that deathly smile to his second favorite lunch lady, “hey, Mrs. Zoe. How was your summer?”

Sweat dots her forehead, “hot and long, how about yours, honey?” He can’t complain much, he actually took it slow. “Pretty good, hey, um, is Linda around?” Peter doesn’t know what it is but he knows it’s bad by the way Zoe’s face drops, she looked younger than she was, until she was full frowning, then she looked every bit of sixty.

“You didn’t hear?” Peter’s scared to say no but still shakes his head.

“Oh, shit. She dropped a pot on her foot just the right way and shattered the whole thing. She ran out of time off and was let go.”

Peter feels everything in him shake with rage.

Linda took care of him for the past two years of his life, and worked harder than he ever has in his entire life. She dedicated decades of her life to this place, an institution built on community, until one got hurt. Linda made sure that even if he was away from home, he was still fed with love. She talked to him, they formed a bond, he asked about her granddaughter all the time, her husband was sick, she was supporting the house, now what?

“They fired her?” He’s full of pain and anger but his voice comes out timid.

Mrs. Zoe nods her head solemnly, Peter looks at his tray, he’s not so hungry anymore knowing Linda didn’t make a thing on it. Suddenly six burritos seem daunting.

“Is she okay?” That’s all that mattered. He had to fix this, he wasn’t sure how yet but it’s his personal mission to get her back where she belonged.

“She’s still healing up but I guess the university gave her a nice severance package, so she’ll be okay for a while.”

The line’s starting to back up, “do you think I could get her number? I’ll come back for lunch and get it, if you think that’s okay.”

A beaming smile, she looks young again, her eyes crinkle and it shows her joy. “I think she’d love that. I’ll get it for you.” Even if he’s mad, he gives her a polite smile, “thanks, Mrs. Zoe.”

Peter’s heart races as he walks away, the situation swirling in his mind, how fucked it all was. He doesn’t care if they gave her a severance package, she got hurt at work. They should’ve held her job, they should’ve given her a break for the first time in over twenty years.

How could he fix this? Maybe he could get the frat to do a petition, if they sign it then most of the school would get on board. Or shit, what if they go on protest? Do they sit in strike until they give in to the demand? What if he gets-

“So sorry!”

Peter stopped himself from stumbling any further, caught off guard and in the midst of a breakdown he took it out on the assaulter. He doesn’t care if it was an accident, he’s not hard to miss, they just weren’t looking, or paying attention.

And he can see why, big doe eyes blinking at him. Like they’ve never seen an adult man, as if his presence alone was enough to send them into fight or flight. There’s one reason and one reason only, and it’s written all over their face.

“Fucking freshman,” he hates them like no other, last year was enough to paint them in a negative light forever. They were babies, new to drinking, new to being on their own, new to parting. And the entitlement was off a new chart level, they thought they were the big dogs because they finally reached adulthood.

The kind of entitlement that sent them running into people three times their size.

The girl's face changed, she went from frightened to pissed in under three seconds. It almost impressed him, her eyes narrowed as she looked him directly in the eye. For a second he felt challenged, like someone he had to nearly look down on had equal footing against him. All from a freshman no less.

Her words hit directly, she packed a punch behind them and meant each word as they spewed.

“I hope you fucking choke.”

Peter was left speechless, watching her stomp off, while slowly approaching the table his friends occupied. Hasco and Keznek bickering back and forth, which was pointless, Hasco always has to have the last word.

“Explain this one to me,” he immediately caught attention.

“Some freshman knocked into me, almost made me drop everything, then told me she hoped I’d choke. I mean, what the fuck?”

Peter has to look away when Tarrent spews his idea, egg dropping from his mouth.

“She wants to fuck you bro.” Sometimes his stupidity hurts, “what? It was a twenty second interaction and she told me to die.”

“Yeah, that’s how it always starts.”

The table goes quiet, Ethan’s the first to speak. “Tarrent, I think you should sit in on Parker’s health and safety course for a refresher.”

“Oh. Okay.”

—------------------------

Peter thinks he’s a little too hungover and it’s a little too early for him to focus on mechanics and math, so he chooses to look over his syllabus and yawn.

His year was littered with hard classes, approaching the end of his major and now everything counted. The pressure was on, he was prepared to make this his year. He was done with the little kid shit, it was time he got serious and put his future first.

How boring of him, he was going to need Ethan to help bounce him back.

Peter’s first and only class of the day was intro to quantum mechanics, having to sit through that much math and theory made his already pounding headache increase tenfold. Taking a harsh inhale he pulled out his phone for the brother’s group chat, hiding his phone in his lap while his new professor droned on.

‘Who’s fucking idea was this party? I’m dying rn.’

‘Blame Paul.’

‘that’d be pauly.’

‘Keznek emphasized ‘blame paul.’

‘blame me!’

‘Fuck you, paul.”

Peter would be lying if it didn’t make him feel a little bit better. Still, blinking under the fluorescent lighting he wished he could wish his hangover away, he’s never felt this shitty in his life, he’s sure of it. He only had forty minutes left, all he had to do was make it through the lesson, buy his books and spend the rest of the day in bed hiding from every and all light and sound.

It wouldn’t be a terrible year, his professor was the textbook definition of MILF. Blonde bob with streaks of gray, an hourglass figure and oval glasses. Her pantsuit hugged her curves and for a moment he thinks her husband is a lucky guy.

Plus he was pocketed between the hottest chick on campus and some mega genius, so smart Peter was put to shame. It wouldn’t be a bad week either, after he got this girl's number and invited her over to a party. Peter politely sat through the lecture, going over the syllabus with his professor's powerpoint and writing down anything he deemed important.

Then the hour was over and he deserved a treat. He worked hard, so now he can play hard.

Fighting through his looming hangover and using every ounce of charm, he turns his head and smiles at the girl. She had long, slick black hair and he wanted to wrap every bit of it around his fist.

“Hey, I’m Parker.”

She has a nice smile, and a nose ring, he wonders what else is pierced.

“Hey, I’m Rose.”

He’s not sure if it’s a nickname or her real name, it doesn’t matter to him, it suits her well. Peter can see a peek of a tattoo that blossomed from her chest. He wanted to unwrap her like a present and figure her out.

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I just had to let you know I think I have the best seat partner in the whole room.”

“I know, right? Teddy is hella smart.” Her grin tells him she knows what he meant by his comment.

“You seem pretty smart too, maybe we should exchange numbers in case I need any help?”

God, her smile is fucking raident.

“Not sure my girlfriend would like that too much, Parker.”

He exhales a breath, “oh you were waiting to say that.”

Rose nods, “it’s always a fun bomb to drop. Nobody thinks I’m a lesbian until I say it, then I get the-”

“I can see it.”

Her hand raises, “point in case.” She’s still cool. And he has four months with her.

“Let me try again. Hey, Rose, would you and your girlfriend like to come to our party on friday?”

There’s that fucking smile. “We’d love to.”

Peter nods his head, okay with the turn of events. “Alright, Rose, I’ll see you and…”

“Lily,” she fills in for him.

“Lily, how perfect. I’ll see both friday.”

Peter gathers his things and stands, his first try of the year was a swing and a miss, unless…

“Hey, if you were straight would-”

“My girlfriend will kill you, tread carefully, new friend.”

Peter can’t wait to meet her, he already likes her.

—-------------

Peter’s day just got longer or more miserable, because as he should’ve assumed, the bookstore line was wrapped around the building. If only he had given himself a head start, he could’ve done this days ago but there were other things in his personal life he had to wrap up first.

Just so he could sit in line, under the sun, with a hangover, to buy hundreds of dollars worth of textbooks he’d never use again.

Ray Bans rested on his nose, blocking the glare of the sun. He kept refreshing his twitter feed but was quickly bored, switching to instagram and endlessly scrolling. Liking a few pictures, his brother’s party posts, an old classmate’s ‘moving back in!’ post, a summer throwback bikini picture from a girl he’d hooked up with a few times the year prior.

Jostling forward, Peter had to stabilize his stance. Caught off guard and his back ran into, he had to admit it just wasn’t his day.

He scoffs as the assaulter mutters out apologies.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you and I’m sorry!”

Turning sideways to look at the girl he gave a bitter laugh, “Jesus Christ, freshman. Want a tip? Look where you’re walking.”

The girl in front of him looked pissed, “I said sorry, you don’t have to be so mean.”

Peter pulled his head back and turned to face her full on. “You’re telling me about mean? You knocked into me twice and said you’d hope I fucking choke, if we’re tallying scores I’d think you’re the bully, sweetheart.”

She huffs, “does the misogynistic shtik always work for you?”

He holds his hand to his chest, “misogynistic, because I called you sweetheart? I’d say that’s irony, or sarcasm, because you’ve been anything but sweet.”

“Well… maybe I’d be nicer if you were.”

Peter’s having fun with this, she’s just shittalking him to do it, and he kinda respects that. His hands move as he speaks, emphasizing his point. “You hit me! Why do I have to be nice?”

The girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms in defense. “I bumped you, I hope you’re majoring in acting because you could win an oscar for your dramatics.”

His tongue pokes at his cheek, a cocky grin spreads. “Babe, I’m the best at what I do. You think I’d be here and not at Juilliard?”

Peter won, she scoffs and opens her mouth before shutting it and spinning on her heel, turning her back on him.

“Realized you couldn’t win?”

He turns back around, hiding a grin, fumbling for his phone in his back pocket. He opens up the ‘Captain Nu’ group chat and sends out a message.

‘The entitlement from these freshmen gets worse every year.’

‘true dat. this freshie charles just got coffee all over me, i can’t wait to ruin his year.’

‘rip charles. never had a chance.’

‘@trent ally just said her friend is gonna do the ski trip after all.’

‘@paul, Ally’s got a friend? 👀’

‘@parker, lol, yea.’

‘paul is the world's worst wingman, lmaoooo.’

‘Of course he is, he met the girl he’s gonna marry at 16.’

‘@parker maybe u would too if you bothered to know their name after.’

‘@parker if anyone has dibs on ally’s friend it’s me. we’ve already been in talks. 🤔’

‘@trent, yo, tf? We’re gatekeeping now?’

‘@paul, invite her to the party friday. We’ll see who she wants, @trent’

‘🫡’

‘Hold on, Parker’s betting on a chick? I’m getting a lawn chair & a 12 pack rn.’

‘Good thing your name isn’t in the mix, isn’t it? @keznek’

‘ally said she’s coming, my money’s on trent, sorry parker.’

‘Hmmm, I dunno, Paul. Parker’s got that underdog in him.’

‘At least E believes in me.’

Glancing up, and noticing a gap in the line he moves up. Putting his phone back in his pocket he glances over his shoulder and peers at the girl with her gaze locked in on her phone screen. He’s learned several things while at the frat, one of the most important, you can never have too many options.

She’d probably show up anyways, but if she was invited by him to his frat for their freshman welcome party, she’d definitely show up and if Trent wins, he’d have his bases covered. Clearing his throat and turning one eighty, Peter walked backwards to keep up in line, she followed with small steps. Smirking, he stopped quickly, her shoe toe hitting his own.

She looked up quickly, “this one’s on me, sweetheart.”

Her mouth opened, but he talked before she could. Before he could regret inviting her. Worst comes to worse, she’d be a good hate fuck.

“Has anyone shown you frat row yet?”

“I’m not-” she gives a frustrated sigh, “yes, I know where frat row is.”

“Cool, so I’m Parker. I’m in Sigma Nu,” he gestures to the emblem on his corner pocket. “And on the first Friday of the school year we throw a freshman welcome party, you should come.”

Peter can tell she’s trying to figure out his motive, it’s kind of cute, the way she's analyzing him. He immediately throws that idea from his head, he doesn’t find girls cute, he finds them attractive. Cute implies you want them to hang around and she’s nothing but infuriating.

“Uh huh. Sure.” Keeping watch of the line he backs up further, he’s three away from being saved from the sun.

“That’s a personal invite, babe.”

She gasps, it smells of sarcasm. “My goodness, in that case I must show! How else will I know my worth when I watch you make out with another girl across the house?”

That stumbles him a bit, not used to his game being called outright. Even if that was something that might happen, being told it would happen made him feel a little shitty.

“That’s not at all what I-”

Her hand stops him, “you have backup plan written all over your face, I think the summer made you lose some of that frat boy edge.”

He just met this chick, after she threw herself into him twice, and now she’s telling him who he is? God damn, the entitlement is reeking from every orifice.

“You-”

“Line.”

He had to accept the loss and enter the store, but the second he saw her at his party, he’d throw in a few choice words. Remind the freshman who was on top.

He was Peter Parker and he was the treasure and health and safety officer, and this was his fucking year. Hangovers and all.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH.

Peter’s looking at a house across from him, it’s a faded yellow with maroon shutters. A plethora of flowers covered the base foundation, the grass was a little long, definitely a few weeks since the last cut.

It looked like a home.

He could picture a series of generations passing in and out the front door, it was a small house but the love he felt looking at it felt big. Peter felt just as much love for the woman inside the house, stepping over cracks in the concrete he knocked on the door and looked down at his feet while he ran lines through his head.

A growing smile took over when the door cracked open, frizzy gray hair poked through. When Linda caught sight of him the door swung open, her arms went right around him, squeezing him with all her might.

“Peter! Oh my goodness, I thought I wouldn’t see you again! I was going to send you a letter but you beat me to it!” Joy filled his heart, Peter wrapped his arms around her shoulders and laughed. “Mrs. Zoe helped me, I thought she’d call you. Guess not.”

Linda gave him a parting squash before cupping his cheeks, “she knew I’d love the surprise.” She looks behind her, “wanna come in for some tea?” He took her up on the offer, he needed to let her know that he and the school needed her and he was willing to do whatever he could to get her back where she belonged.

A blue oriental rug ran from the front door into the kitchen. Peter dropped his backpack by an entrance table and kicked his shoes off. While he looked around at the family pictures stretched across the walls he felt something rub against his legs, a scratchy meow followed.

Peter looked down at an orange crusty cat, his heart melted. He wasted no time in picking them up and curling them to his chest, “is this Nelly?” Linda turned and smiled at her cat butting her head against Peter’s hand, “yes, she’s an attention grabber. Now you’ve held her, she'll expect it every visit.”

As he followed Linda he looked deeper into the home, his stomach tugged when he looked into a bedroom off from the living room, an old man lying still in a hospital bed, three full IV bags hanging off a medical pole.

The sun was coming through the kitchen window creating a sunspot, a sleeping chihuahua was soaking it up.

“Teeny?” He already knew the answer.

Linda bent down to pet the old dog, she mumbles while Teeny licks at her nose. “Yes, tú eres mi cariño, isn’t that right?” The cat in Peter’s hold pushed at his chest, a guttural meow while she looked at her food bowl.

Setting her down, he looked back up to a young female standing by a cabinet, she seemed vaguely familiar. She looked a little flustered, and brushed down her shirt to prove it could fit better.

“Hi.” Peter took a shot in the dark, “Hey, Kat. Nice braids.”

Her face exploded in a smile, a faint blush crossed her cheeks. “You remember me?”

“Yeah, I think we met my first year, you went…”

“...to work with my grandma after I got in trouble that summer!” She finished for him.

Linda moved around the small area, setting a bright red kettle on the stove.

“You were what, fifteen?” Kat’s face went neutral, “I’m eighteen now, Peter.” Kat crossed her arms, subtly pushing her cleavage up. She’s pretty, but she’s too young for him, she can try to make it happen all she wants but he respects Linda too much.

“Kathrine, go let Teeny out.” It seems like Linda doesn’t want it to happen either.

“But-” Kat flinches when Linda points a wooden spoon at her, “you dare question me in my own home? Desagradecida!” Her granddaughter hangs her head and slowly passes Peter, going out of her way to brush against his shoulder, he lets her have it.

The second the porch door slides shut Linda points the spoon at him, “not gonna happen, frat boy. Comprende?” Peter holds his hands up, “comprendido, comprendido!” A smile forms, crinkles by her eyes shows Peter she’s no real threat.

“Green or herbal?”

Peter glances at a pouty Kat in the backyard, it brings him back to his early teens. It makes him slightly chuckle, she’d be fine, the first rejection always hurts the most.

“Green, please.”

Peter’s been on a roll, spewing everything he thinks she needs to hear about his summer and upcoming school year. She’s nodding along and asking questions when an alarm starts beeping, she jumps from her seat and holds out an arm. “Be right back.” When she tucks herself into the bedroom her husband’s in, Peter feels a little sick.

It’s the elephant in the room when she returns, she sits back in the teal chair across from him and tosses hair behind her shoulder. Linda’s hands wrap around her mug, steam billows when she blows on the rim. She gives him a knowing smirk, “you want to ask about Ronaldo, don’t you?”

Peter feels shy, he does want to make sure she’s okay, but also knows it’s not something to really bring up. “Is he okay?” It’s a dumb question, he has to hold back on wincing when she shakes her head. “No. He’s comfortable for now, and he’s home. That’s all he ever wanted while he was in the hospital.”

He swallows thickly, “is he in hospice?” Linda grabs his hand, “he is. It’s been hard, but we’ve made every decision together. He gave me and our family his best years, I think it’s time I take the brunt.”

She wears a sad smile, but Peter can still see how strong she is underneath. Patting his hand she follows up like she knows where he’s going.

“And I am very thankful I get to spend our last moments together by his side. I know it seems like bad luck, but that damn pot put me where I needed to be.” Peter’s smile is faulty, “so, you can’t be swayed into coming back?”

“No, cariño. I can’t.”

“But it feels so unfair! They should’ve given you something.”

Linda clicks her tongue at him, “trust me, mi amor, I know what unfair is. And what happened was a grace of God. I get to watch my husband peacefully pass, and I get to spend the rest of my life watching my family grow. I can finally go see my great grandchildren in Mexico, my life is anything but unfair. ”

If there’s anyone he wants the best for it’s Linda, and if she sees it as a blessing he could too. He takes a moment, “so, the severance package was good?”

Linda scoffs, “if you call twenty five years pay at once good, then it’s good.”

It was everything Peter needed to hear.

Peter finishes off his tea, “I’m still gonna miss you, Linda. No one can make a breakfast burrito like you. Or cut fruit! You should’ve seen the slices of cantaloupe, not one uniform cut!”

A warm hand is cupped around his cheek, “you come by anytime for a meal. I know you’re local, but if you ever need a mom, a place to lay low, or an open door with no questions asked, you know where I am.”

It brings tears to his eyes, he blinks fast, chuckling when a tear drops. Peter wipes at it with his sleeve, “I’m really, really, gonna miss you.”

“You won’t miss me too much, you’ll be coming by every Wednesday for breakfast. Comprende?”

Peter blows a sharp breath before laughing, “comprendido.”

—--------------------

Spider-Man pats his tummy looking over the skyline.

Linda made him a full cast iron of Huevos Rancheros, and when his eyes widened at the size she laughed and said, “What? You suddenly lost your appetite over the summer?” He had not, and ate the entire thing.

Peter wishes he took up her offer to sleep on the couch while she watches reruns of ‘La Patrona.’ He politely declined, but tortillas and spicy eggs mixing in his stomach made him wish he was taking a nap.

He feels lead in his gut as he swings across the street, too sluggish to fight; he holds out a hand to stop a runaway bike thief. He went flying over the handlebars at an extreme speed, Spider-Man just watched and shrugged.

An eight year old appeared, throwing his arms around Spider-Man and squeezing. Peter lets out a squeak, “alright, Spidey had a little too many eggs for breakfast-” the kid backs away and stares in amazement.

“No way! I had eggs for breakfast too!”

“Look at us, coupla egg eating guys.”

The kid hugs him again, a panicked mother catches up. “Jacob! You can’t run away from me like-” Jacob bounces as he screams, “Mom! Mom! Spider-Man saved my bike! And, and, and guess what! He had eggs for breakfast too!”

Sometimes the pure excitement of who he was made the shitty parts of his job manageable.

“That’s awesome, honey! But you really can’t run away from mom like that.”

Spider-Man crouches to Jacob’s height, and nods at his mom. “You know what I did when I was eight?” Jacob’s eyes grow wide, “no, what?!”

“I listened to my mom. And I ate all my vegetables.”

“Woah.” The child turns to his mom, she gives a knowing look to Spider-Man. “Mom! We have to go get broccoli!” She smiles at her son, “sure thing, buddy.” Holding his bike steady he takes mount, she mouths a thank you and Spider-Man waves her off.

Jacob gives a parting salute, “bye, Spider-Man!”

Peter feels like he’s going to puke when he takes flight, he thinks for a second, then starts heading east.

May doesn’t mind that he stopped by for a mid-morning nap.

—---------------------------

After running through the budget four times, Peter’s positive he’s got the first two weeks handled.

Then, he’d have to rework the entire thing weekly until the final placements were made. And he still has that powerpoint to re-touch, after last year he had quite a few things to add to his health and safety presentation.

Oh, and the chapter handbooks. That only took up an entire afternoon, even with two people working it. And grocery shopping tonight, he might be able to strong arm Ethan into going with him.

Not to mention how he doubled up on physics this year, just because he’s gotten used to self-atonement.

Everything was fine, it wasn’t like he was stressed already.

Peter waited until the last minute, but he burned more time than necessary and finally pushed himself from his desk chair to go to the chapter’s private quarters, a meeting with Trent mandatory.

It’s nothing too personal on Trent, but he just doesn’t like him. There wasn’t a real reason, just a general dislike. He was a bit too frat boy for him, although it makes sense, he’s the president, he’s had to make it his entire personality. But still, his subtle misogyny and hint of alpha male made Peter keep his distance.

Checking for the fifth time, Peter opens the hidden door and slides in.

“Parker!”

“What’s up, Simpson?”

Trent looks up grinning, his eyes clocking the folder in Peter’s hand. “Got my reports?” Peter hands over the folder, Trent opens it immediately and looks it over, nodding impressively at the number.

“Thirty two recruits and you did this magic? I think I’ll keep you around, Parker. Speaking of, where are we on the shopping?”

Peter wants to grit his teeth, when Trent said he was treasurer and everything money related would be run through him, he wasn’t exaggerating. “I have late classes tomorrow, so I’ll go tonight. I’m gonna get together with Tarrent and see what’s on the menu, plan around that.”

Trent nods approvingly, “he’s on strict recruitment duty the next two days, so keep it short. We’ve doubled PNM's.”

Peter keeps a straight face, “yeah, I know.”

Trent picks up a tilt, “got a problem with it, Parker?”

There’s that alpha, the subtle shift of dominance that runs rapidly in a house full of testosterone.

“Not one, Simpson. It’s like you said, it’s open fucking season.” That makes him proud, “you’re damn right, baby. Now go fill up my fridge.”

Peter nods, “I’ll check with Bakner and get Keznek to come with me. Anything else?”

“Yes! I forgot, I’m thinking this year you do the health and safety for everyone. Not just the new recruits. I think some of these newer guys need to be reminded of what this campus and frat really stands for.”

And Peter thinks that’s a really good idea. Maybe Trent wouldn’t be that awful this year.

“Oh, Parker, one more thing?” One more thing, that’s fine, he doesn’t have enough on his plate.

“Yeah?”

“Harvey’s coming back on Friday, make sure he’s got a spot set up in here.”

“I’ll make Hasco do it, he’s the housing officer.” Trent must not like his tone, “I know who Hasco is, Parker. Just do what I fucking say.”

Okay, he might be awful this year.

“Sure, yeah, you got it. Anything else,” your highness? He added in his head.

“Tell Paul I need to meet with him, this Ally shit is annoying. He needs to know what he’s committed to.”

His girlfriend, he’s committed to his girlfriend. And since she’s a human being, she takes priority over a frat house but Trent can’t wrap his thick skull around the idea of it.

“Got it.”

God bless the woman that ever puts up with that.

—--------------------

Three sheets of notebook paper, that’s how long the shopping list was.

Tarrent was prepared and that was appreciated. Instead of having to sit around while he scrambled to prepare something, when Peter knocked on his door and asked about the groceries all he was granted was a grunt and an arm shoving out crumpled printer paper.

Peter and Ethan walked down the cereal aisle side by side, each had a half full cart.

“So, I was thinking about the Salander sisters. You think they’d hate me if I went after both and took the one that chooses me?”

Peter grabs six cereal boxes off the shelf, tossing the stack in his cart, he crosses off another item on the list, He’s only got two and a quarter pages left, next time, he’s bringing the pledges.

“Aren’t they twins?”

Ethan corrects him, “Irish twins, there’s a difference.” His attention drifted to where his best friend’s pointing, “fruit roll ups, twelve of ‘em. Which one are you trying first?” Ethan shakes his head piling cardboard and throwing it in his cart. “As if it’s a question, obviously it’s Sara.”

“I thought you were more into Sam,” cause he swore he was, “oatmeal, four of each flavor.”

Ethan speaks over his shoulder, quaker oats sailing, Peter catching each one. “Until she picked you to kiss during that stupid card game.”

Peter remembers, he apologized to Ethan after too. Ethan wouldn’t hear it, it wasn’t Peter’s fault he was picked, and Ethan made sure he knew it. Sam kissed him, Sam chose him, and he wasn’t owed any real loyalty, they’d only chatted a few times at a few different parties.

Still, that night had left a bad taste in Ethan’s mouth and she shot to the bottom of his list real fast. Peter had never spoken to her before that night, but Ethan had. And she still chose Peter.

‘I wanted to tell her no but then I'm the asshole.’

‘Dude, forget about it. It’s not like you stepped on any toes, if anything, you got a hookup tonight.’

It was tempting, but it was an unspoken agreement that any girl the other one liked, was off limits. So, he never even tried.

“If it helps, she was a bad kisser. It was wet.”

Ethan shudders, “not sloppy?”

Peter doubles down, “wet.”

“Do you think Sara’s the same way? Cause I can’t do sloppy kisses.” Raising a finger, Peter corrects him, making his way to the dairy section. “Wet, Keznek, it was wet.”

“If you think a kiss was wet, what are the chances she also-”

Peter cuts him off, “no, we’re not going there.”

“Boo, no fun, how much milk do we need?”

“A gallon of literally everything.”

“We’re going to be here forever, I have moves to make, Parker.”

A snort, “oh yeah? What’s on the radar for tonight?”

“I don’t know yet, I’m stuck in a grocery store.

Ethan is such a whiner, he’d do anything you asked but was a martyr through and through.

Peter’s got it the worst and he’s not complaining, he could, but it wouldn't do anything. He’s got triple the load Ethan has, all he had to do was sit back and make sure the chapter officers were doing their job.

At least he helps pass the time, and cuts the job in half.

“So, I hit on a lesbian today.”

Ethan almost stops breathing, “no way, where at? You think I could get a copy of the security footage?”

—-----------------

At his current point in time, Peter had no idea what time it was, and he was only sure of three things.

He had late classes tomorrow and could sleep in, Hasco put on the weirdest movie known to man, he still can’t tell if it’s in english, and he was absolutely baked. It was a new level of toasted, his arms were like noodles on his sides, limp and lifeless. Peter swears he can hear his eyelids blink, or it was Tarrent eating sunflower seeds.

Peter’s slump against the back of the couch between Ethan and Tarrent, on Tarrent’s right was Hasco. The first, and only, sign of life from Ethan was him slowly slouching more and more until he was leaning on Peter’s shoulder, he assumes it’s to ground him because he’s allowing it for the same reason.

Hasco’s giggling madly, slapping on his knee while the other three are locked on the screen.

“We are so fucking high, you know how I know?”

Peter looks to Tarrent to answer for the crowd, he supplies a ‘hmph,’ between spitting kernels.

“I just remembered this movie is in portuguese.”

“Oh.” It’s all Peter could get out, somehow, he understands it more than before. Tarrent is impressively loud, “even if it was in ASL shit would suck. This is like The Fast and The Furious meets Twilight.”

“Bro, I know! Isn’t it fucking sick?”

Peter blinks, he can look but can’t see, zoned out in a world of blank space. Ethan wheezes on Peter’s left, even out of his mind he can’t miss a shot at Hasco, “fucking sick.”

In two days it would be the real start of the year, once the first party of the year commenced, they would never stop. It always felt like there were a million people in the house when the year started, it goes from pledges to recruits and back to members. Then you have friends and girlfriends and sororities, every night there would be at least twenty people downstairs drinking.

It was a rare moment for the frat house to be so quiet and everyone was enjoying it, the calm before the storm. Peter thinks he’s enjoying it, but he’s also surfing the ozone layer.

“You guys wanna get pizza?”

Tarrent is a fucking tank, it’s seriously impressive.

“Do you know how much money we spent at the grocery store today? Fuck no, make a sandwich.” Ethan smacks his arm, “make it two, no, three, I want one too.” Peter’s so glad Tarrent’s playing nice tonight, he actually stands and nods at the couch crew, “my boys want a BLT?”

Not that he needs to say it, but it was the best fucking BLT of his life.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

It was always a good day when you wake up before your alarm and realize you have a few more hours to sleep. Mornings like that make Peter feel more energized than eating a bag of chocolate covered espresso beans, a habit he has far too often.

At ten thirty he couldn’t sleep anymore, throwing his sheets off him and standing with a yawn, scratching his thigh while his eyes watered. He would take a shower, hit up the dining hall with whoever lingered in the house still, then think about thermodynamics.

His schedule, made while he was in the thick of a concussion from his spidey summer, made him sick. The classes alone made him want to eat a brick, but the days and times he chose fucked him up. His entire week was up and down. Monday he had two classes, Tuesday he had one, Wednesday he had none, Thursday he had one class and for god knows what reason, blocked his lab and lecture back to back on Friday.

At least it was every other week, two Fridays out of the month he had nothing to do, which was pretty nice. With a big stretch and another yawn, Peter walked to his bathroom and started the shower, his boxers flying to the sink.

The hot water felt good, his mind raced about the party the next night, how he’d be up most of the night moving things around, and how he had a lab-lecture combo.

All he knew was that he had some fine opportunities coming up and he’d be dumb to have his bed empty tomorrow night.

—-------------------

Belgian waffles were the only thing on Peter’s mind, the rest of his day could melt into whatever bullshit that needed to happen so he could carry on to another day. But first, he needed waffles.

It was a whole bar, a set up of freshly made waffles and toppings galore. Strawberries, blueberries, bananas, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, maple syrup, sprinkles, butter, chopped pecans, and that was just what was on his.

Peter was double plating, two hands, two plates. Each one had two waffles dressed to the nines, Tarrent following behind with his own.

“Wanna sit with Paul?”

Yuck, he was at his girlfriend's table. Ally was nice and pretty cool, but everything he’s learned about her has been against his will. Sometimes she pulls the girlfriend card a little too much, and it really only annoys him when Paul has to drop everything for her. But, for the past two years he’s known her, he can say that Ally was a perfect fit for Paul.

“Fuck no, that freshman is over there.” She was, when he looked back to confirm, their eyes locked. Peter wasn’t backing down, not after that last interaction. Her eyes focused in on him, he doesn’t know why but his knees felt weak, suddenly he thinks she’s a witch. It wouldn’t be far-fetched, she’s evil, hates men, and makes him feel weird things. Plus, he’s Spider-Man, so they could exist, right?

It was a staring contest, until Ally caught on to her friend looking at something, when she turned her head to look back the girl stopped her. Reaching out and breaking eye contact, she played like she was in a daze, laughing at something Paul said.

It was weird, she was weird. Peter couldn’t choose between staying away and getting closer.

“-Are you even listening to me? God, bro, it’s chill if you like the freshman. You can talk to her, no one will care.” Peter was snapped back to life, “she’s weird and keeps showing up.” Plastic plates click against the table top, the chairs screeching to life. Tarrent flops down, scraping his teeth across his fork when he takes a bite. He’s got a terrible habit of talking while eating, “does she keep showing up or are you just noticing her?”

“I just met the girl, Bakner. I don’t even know her name, how could I notice her?”

“Maybe cause you want to know her name, Parker.”

Tarrent doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Sure, she may have caught his attention a little and sure, he might have invited her to the party with the intention of possibly getting into her pants. But that has nothing to do with wanting to know her name or anything. He doesn’t care about girls like that.

Peter still misses his favorite lunch lady but the waffles were really good this morning.

He pulls a Tarrent and talks while cheeking his bite, “she bumped into me, several times. And was mean about it, why would I want to know her?”

“Maybe she likes you, ever think about that, dingus?”

Well, not really. She doesn’t even know him, how could she like him? The school year just started, unless he’s got a stalker walking around… or a witch.

“Someone taught you the word maybe once and you haven’t stopped using it since.”

A grin full of bacon, “maybe.”

Peter can’t stop himself from asking, “why do you think she likes me?” Tarrent’s fork clatters to his plate, “knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“I knew you liked her.”

“I don’t know her! She’s the one that- we’re talking in circles, Bakner!”

Tarrent pats Peter’s shoulder, which he shakes off and mumbles insults about Tarrent’s IQ level. “You know what, Parker? I think this is the year you get a girlfriend.”

Peter stares his friend in the eye while he chews and swallows, “eat shit, Bakner.”

—---------------------

“Welcome to thermodynamics. This is a fast paced, no frills, no bullshit class. If you cannot handle that, you will be left behind. This is a hands-on class, and I have high standards for everyone in here. If you do not follow my rules, you’ll be excluded and shunned from the rest of us. I’m Dr. Octavius, I’ll be your professor for the next fifteen weeks and it is my honor to teach you the fun in thermodynamics.”

This guy was absolutely not fucking around, he was all business and execution. Or as Peter likes to call these people, too smart for their own good. He earns his respect immediately, he’s the type of teacher that would get under his skin and push him to his extreme limits. Those are his favorite kinds.

“I want each of you to look at the person on your left and right,” the class pauses, but he encourages them to do so. Peter looks at the guys next to him, one looks like a deer in headlights, the other looks more like Peter, excited to be challenged.

For a second he imagines what his reaction would be if he saw the freshman sitting next to him. It wouldn’t be possible, but he imagines how shocked he would be. And the annoyance, god, he’d be so annoyed. But a small, tiny, itty bitty, microscopic part of him would be glad to be entertained.

She’s not even around and he’s annoyed thinking about her.

Why was he thinking about her? Why is she in his mind? Why is he imagining his reaction to her?

She’s a witch. No other explanation.

Peter shakes her from his mind and refocuses.

Dr. Octavius nods at the group, “yes, good, good commit them to memory,” A few people start chatting, and he seems all for it, until his hand raises and everyone silences. “Now, immediately forget them.”

Even if it wasn’t audible, he could hear everyone choke.

“Because, thirty percent of you will not be here by the sixteenth. If you want to drop my class, do it by then, if not, you’ll be charged for the semester and I won’t hear your sob story.”

Ice cold. This is the best professor he’s ever had, he has a few more to meet but no way they would compare. This guy could tell Peter to go lay in a bath of acid because he’s not worth the surface matter he’s wasting to exist and he’d lay down for him.

“I hope everyone here knows what thermodynamics are, if not, you’ve been failed by everyone around you.” He studies the room, reading each face for a moment before smiling. Pressing a button in his hand, the projector turns on, the syllabus on the screen.

“Any questions?”

No one raises their hand.

—-----------------

If Peter was a rich man, and he really wished he was, he'd buy himself a nap today. Not that naps are something you can buy, but if he could pay someone to do his work for him then he could take a nap. Normally, that just means employing a pledge to the task, but he won’t have one for a few days.

The frat pays him, which is pretty nice because it pays him more than he could make in any part time job. It’s hard to become a chapter officer, but when you make it, it’s so worth it. He’s a top dog on campus and in the house, it’s nice having power outside the suit.

But, he couldn’t buy a nap and he had thirty two chapter handbooks to make, hopefully getting to skip out on the set up for the party the next night. He’d have to go out for booze tomorrow, but he was praying he wouldn’t have to shove furniture around.

When Peter walked in the house door he could hear something happening in the kitchen and it wasn’t sounding good. Suddenly, Peter felt wide awake. Hasco was yelling at Booker, who was holding back his anger but the wall was faltering.

Ethan was absolutely useless, holding a bowl of cornflakes to his chest while he watched the brewing flight. He nodded at Peter, then to Hasco spitting insults at a million miles an hour. “Fuckin sick,” the mocking never got old.

Before he intervened he needed to know if he should, something he’s learned as a man and as someone in a frat, sometimes you just need to fight it out.

Peter shook his backpack off and watched them bicker back and forth. It was more like a coked up Hasco on a tangent and a way too calm exterior but built with inner rage Booker listening and tightening his fist with each insult. Booker played hockey, he was an athlete on and off the field, meaning, he took all he could before exploding.

“What’s happening?” Ethan’s in no rush to respond, drinking milk from the bowl.

“Something that needs to happen.”

Hasco’s about to get the absolute shit beat out of him, “he’s been screaming for five minutes, I think Booker’s gonna knock him out.”

That’s fine with him but his blender’s right there.

“Booker, don’t get his blood on my blender please.” It stops Hasco, but seals his fate.

“Who-” raging bloodshot eyes on him, “who the fuck’s gonna get blood on the blender? Me? You think this fuckin guy can put his hands on me? You think he can fight me? You think any of you motherfuckers can take me down?”

Hasco slaps the side of his face, “fuckin do it, pussy. I know you won’t, you’re a bitch just like your mom-”

Peter and Ethan pull their head back in a hiss, the collison sounded like a crack. It was enough to send Hasco’s head spinning before he dropped, he was real silent real fast.

Booker stood over him and pulled him up by his shirt, a raised hand in the air. “Don’t fucking talk about my mom, you don’t know shit about her and what she’s done for me.”

Ethan points his spoon towards him, defending his point. “Facts, the mom card was too far, Hasco.”

“I should beat your ass, but Parker said no blood on his blender.”

“Thank you!”

“Thank your white friend and apologize on my moms behalf,” when Hasco stays silent Booker lifts his hand a little, Peter moves around to see him wince in fear. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, I was just heated man, you know how it is, it’s all crazy this time of year, cause all these new guys come in and my mind is all scrambled-”

Ethan’s spoon points again, “that’s the coke.”

“Hey! Fuck you man! If you wanna fucking go then we can go, motherfucker.”

“You’re being held down by another man talking about beating my ass.”

“Fuck all you! The only real one here is Parker, he’s a real friend, he has my back, he’s the only one here protecting me.”

“I was protecting my blender,” Ethan shoves his elbow into his and mumbles, “health and safety officer,” he corrects himself, “and you, Hasco. It’s my job to protect everyone in the house. Do we need to settle this with a gulag or can it end here?”

Booker’s over it, and Hasco needs a bump.

“Let me up and we can hug it out,” and they do. Awkwardly slapping at each other’s back, Hasco giving him a “we all good brotha,” causing Peter and Ethan to wince again.

“Don’t ever fucking say that to me.”

“Parker! He’s still threat-”

“Anything Booker deems racist is gonna get your ass beat, that’s a rule we signed in.” Ethan nods, “can confirm, I was there as witness.”

“Simpson agreed? Of course he did, Polish motherfucker.”

Ethan lost it, his shoulders shaking with his laugh. Hasco had something to say about everyone, last year after they butted heads, Hasco called him ‘plant fucker’ for six weeks and it never got old. Ethan laughing made Peter smirk, but he had to kill it before Hasco could catch him.

“You know I love you, man! No more disrespect on your mom, you slapped the shit outta me. I feel like a bitch, I would’ve rather you punched me.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.”

Hasco made a motion of his mind exploding, “wild man, you’re a wild man.” He jumps at the idea of something and looks around the kitchen rubbing his nose, “hey, uh, we all good here guys? I got some shit to do in my room.”

Eyes are on Peter, he’s the one that makes the call. He assumes everything’s fine, Booker looks bored and Hasco’s running his tongue over his gums, eyes twitching to the staircase.

“Cleared.”

Hasco nods, “fuckin sick,” and slithers between Peter and Ethan, slowly walking to the staircase before running up them. Peter’s stating the obvious, but it needs to be said.

“Oh, he needs a fucking rehab.”

Booker shrugs, “I dunno, dude. I slapped him sober.”

Ethan cleans his bowl in the sink, “slapped him into next week, that shit ricocheted off the cabinets.” Booker eyed Peter as he said, “I mean, he deserved it?” Peter raised his hands up, “I said it was cleared, you don’t have to explain or excuse shit.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at him, “Parker, you’re my fuckin guy. I gotta get to practice, but you’re my fuckin guy.” Peter waved him off, “you protected my blender, bro. Tarrent loves that thing.”

Booker jogged away pointing at him, “my guy! Still my guy!”

Ethan raised his eyebrows at Peter when they were left alone, “you’re gonna love me.”

“What’d you do?”

Ethan shrugs, “made use of my day off and printed those handbooks.” Peter feels like he could cry, his best friend really was one, he took one for the team and dedicated himself to hours in the library to do the brunt of the work.

“God,” A finger stops him, “not done, I also got the folders and brackets from the supply store. All we need to do is staple, stamp and book em’.”

“You’re the best person to ever exist and I don’t say it enough.”

“Wanna sit on my balcony and smoke a backwood while we do it?” He can’t imagine a better scenario.

Then wonders if the freshman smoked, and finds himself aggravated at the thought. Why was he still thinking about her?

She’s a witch, she has to be. He pushes her away, and focuses on his friend.

“I’ll cry right now, Keznek.”

—-------------------

It was nice outside, Peter was comfortable in a hoodie and sweatpants, and so was Ethan. They slowly talked while they worked back and forth. Peter would staple the pages, Ethan would bracket them into the booklets, then Peter would stamp them.

"You remember those info sheets Trent's 'new friend' got him?"

"Yeah, do you know who it is?"

Ethan hisses when he pinches his finger, “nah, I did find out it's a chick though." Even though they’re alone Ethan leans in and talks low, “and apparently it’s top, top secret. Like, no one can find out, ever. She has something on him.” Those pages are held too tightly to their chests, every fraternity in competition with each other no one dares share or spill.

“How’d you find out?”

“Simpson left his computer open, he had it on his notes app.” Peter blows a harsh breath, “how do you think she got it?”

“No idea, but that shit comes at a price. She wants something, and it’s gonna be something Trent can control.”

There’s a lot he can control, everyone can think they’re the most manly in the house, but Trent owned the title. Peter doesn’t know why, but it makes him itch to find out. Normally, he wouldn’t care, but he has a weird tug that demands to be discovered.

It was that same tug he felt when that witch looked at him today, and why is he thinking about her? Why is he still thinking about her, he doesn’t even know her name, and she’s mean. Was Tarrent right, was he just noticing her instead of her showing up? Has he been looking out for her? And why in the hell is he still thinking about her?

He’s right, he has to be. She’s a fucking witch.

Peter snaps out of it and stamps three books. “What if she’s just bullshitting? Is there any way to prove it’s real?”

“She’s not and she has. She hacked their computers.”

It’s blackmail, she needs something over the frat. It’s his job to protect the frat, from the personnel to the building. His guess is money, but the why is lost on him. If it’s frat money he’d find out, Trent would have to run it through him, and if not, he’d find it the next time he went through the books.

“That’s so weird, and speaking of weird, you remember that chick that bumped into me?”

Why was he talking about her? Why was he still thinking about her? It just came out, he didn’t even have anything to say. She’s a fucking witch.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know, nevermind.”

Ethan shrugs, “alright. Wanna guess what Tarrent’s doing for hazing?” Peter reloads the stapler, it’s automatic and he feels like a king. “You know it’s my job to prevent hazing, right?”

“No, it’s your job to prevent poor or dangerous hazing, and guess who makes that call?”

“Are you saying the definition of poor and dangerous hazing is at my discretion?”

Ethan teeter totters, “technically mine too, I have to make sure you’re doing your job.” Peter fills in the blank, “by letting hazing happen?”

“Alright, look. It’s a right of passage, you did it, I did it, everyone in that house and the other fifteen did it. Generations of fraternities have done it dating back to three hundred and eighty seven B.C. Everyone does it, that’s all I'm saying.”

Ethan looks up at him from the gold brackets he’s thumbing flat on the book, “I know you have…” he tries to find the right words, “higher morals than most of us, and I know you’ll know when to shut it down.”

“I never said I wanted to stop it, I just meant we’re not gonna be the frat that kills a kid.”

“Jesus, of course we aren’t, I just didn’t want you killing the vibe.”

Peter scoffs, “oh, well that’s just insulting.” He can see the end of the tunnel, only eighteen books left. “So, tell me what he’s doing. Please say it’s something better than the drunk soccer match.”

Ethan cackles, “fuck you, that’s gold. It’s happening for sure.”

Peter can think of one better, “imagine a drunk obstacle course, like, one of those bounce house ones? But we can make it all manly, so they think it’s something easy but on the other side it’s like a fucking bootcamp.”

“Railing sixteen beers and rope climbing a six foot wall,” the idea made him laugh just as hard as the soccer match. “That’s so sick, you’re sick for that.”

Peter stamps three more and finishes for him, “so obviously we’re gonna do it, right?” Ethan nods, “absolutely we are.”

It falls silent, both of them working together but enjoying the quiet. Peter likes that most about Ethan, since day one he’s felt comfortable around him. He can be himself around him and it’s never once been awkward, they just agree on everything.

It’s weird, sometimes it feels like Ethan doesn’t care about him but that also makes him a better friend to Peter. He acts like he’s less involved than he is, like he knows that Peter pushes people away when they get too close. The only person closer to Peter than Ethan is his aunt.

But Ethan pretends he doesn’t know that, and it makes their bond stronger. Ethan’s opinion means the world to him, anything he says is taken with a mountain of salt. And no judgment, never, ever judgment. It takes a lot for him to say it, but he’d trust him with his life.

When they’re down to the last ten Peter clears his throat, “have you gotten anywhere with the Salander sisters?” Ethan shrugs, “I’ve been feeling this girl in my bio class, she’s pretty cool. I invited her to the party, she seemed into me, I think.”

“Woah, the Ethan Keznek catching feelings?”

“Easy, I had two classes with her. She seems like she’d be fun to hang with, I’m not trying to date her.”

Peter spits it out before he can stop it, “Tarrent thinks freshman and I will end up together.”

Why the fuck does he keep thinking about her?

She’s a fucking witch, she has to be.

“The entitled one?” Ethan knows he can’t get his mind off her, he brought her up twice. And each time he looked like he regretted it, but he doesn’t care enough to push it.

“Yeah. But he’s kinda dumb, right?” Peter doesn’t even know her, he hates how she’s been popping up in his mind throughout the day.

“He could be, or he may be a clairvoyant genius that sees the future. Personally, I vote for the latter.”

Proof he’s a best friend, giving Peter an out through a joke.

“He’s majoring in physical therapy but he should be a conspiracy theorist.”

Final five, Peter’s ready for dinner. “Wanna hit up the dining hall after this?”

“God yes, I need lo-mein noodles so bad right now.”

—------------

The table was rowdy, everyone yelling over each other. If women thought men interrupting them was bad, they should see five men hanging out together.

“Remember when Booker slapped me?”

Paul dropped his fork, “no, what, when?”

Tarrent’s holding the edge of his plate to his mouth as he shovels rice in. “That’s hilarious.”

Ethan sighs dreamily, “yeah, it was awesome.”

“Yes, Hasco. It happened like, three hours ago.”

“Ah, fuck! I always miss the best shit, this is about to be Ally’s problem.”

“I was stretching a cheerleader's hamstrings, I didn’t miss out on anything.”

Ethan drops his fork to point at Tarrent, making sure Peter was paying attention. “He’s bragging, make him stop.”

“Bakner, stop bragging, some of us are more lonely than others.” His words focused more on Paul, the guy that’s been with the same girl for six years. Like, everyone feels so bad he’s missing out on fights because he’s too busy being in love.

It’s actually disgusting to Peter.

“Don’t blame me, you guys are the ones against church girls.”

Hasco sneers, “cause they try to convert us, I refuse to willingly be beneath another man.”

Ethan loves riling him up, “hey, you never know, God may be a woman.” Hasco gives him a pathetic look, “c’mon man, not even you believe that.” Ethan nods his head like he’s got a point, Paul looks like he’s sick.

“That is our lord you’re talking about, he died for us.” Paul’s a devoted christian… only when he felt the need to be.

Peter taps his chin, “isn’t premarital sex one of the things he died for?”

“What my girlfriend and I do behind closed doors is not the lord's business. Or yours.”

The table ooed, Peter nods impressively, Ally’s given him a backbone. He pushes away from the table, he’s stuffed and needs to put his plates away. He also needs to piss.

No one notices his descent, Peter looks over the dining hall, it’s always empty for dinner. Breakfast and lunch seemed impossible with seating, but for whatever reason dinner was always empty.

Dropping his plates in a bin he politely nodded at a group of ladies before turning back for the bathroom, mumbling a song under his breath that was stuck in his head. “... Another bottle in the brain. Another girl, another fight,” Peter hit the door open with his shoulder, finishing his mumbling. “Another drive all night.”

Peter had that weird feeling again, the one he felt when he saw that freshman. And fuck, he’s thinking about her again.

She’s a witch, a real fucking witch.

Peter moved his shoulders while he washed his hands, the song replaying over and over. Swinging the door open with this foot, he mumbled to himself again. “.. another bottle in the brain,”

A voice speaks up, “another girl, another fight.” He jumps, his eyes fall to the left, perched at a high top was the witch. Her mouth wrapped around a spoon, a cup of fro-yo in her hand. Tarrent was wrong, he wasn’t noticing her. She kept showing up.

“Hey,” he doesn’t like how winded he sounded. Who the fuck was she?

“Hello, Peter.”

His heart stopped, no one calls him Peter, no one. Since day one it’s been Parker, when he was recruited he was only addressed as Parker and it stuck. It’s weird she knew what his first name was, his suspicions are adding up.

He wants to ask how she knew his name, but it’s cliche, and he really doesn’t care. If he guessed, it was probably Ally. It’s still a bold choice that she used it, it definitely separated her from the crowd.

“And you are…” Waiting for her to fill in the blanks, if he could find out her name he can banish all traces of her in his mind, like a demon.

A smirk wrapped around her plastic spoon, it scraped against her teeth as she removed it.

“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” She thinks she’s clever, she’s not.

“I’m sure you planned it, considering how you keep showing up around me.” That seems to tick her off, “no, you keep showing up where I already am.”

“Now you’re just lying.”

She raised three fingers, “scouts honor.” Peter looks around, “where are your friends?”

Why is he still talking to her? She must have him under her spell.

The witch hums, “can’t a girl get fro-yo alone?”

“It’s a free country, babe. Do you, girl power, smash the patriarchy, all that stuff.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re slightly misogynistic?”

Peter looks up at his brothers, it still seems like his absence hasn’t been noticed. Her eye contact is insane, it makes his knees weak like this morning. It’s gross, her powers have taken over his cerebrum.

“Just one, I think she doesn’t know what misogyny is.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, “you’re mansplaining now?” Peter’s eyes look at her mouth when she takes another spoonful. “Has anyone ever told you you’re slightly difficult?” It’s like his words egg her on, “just one, I don’t think he knows what difficult is yet.”

“Yet? For a person with no name you’re bold.” Normally flirting doesn’t feel like this, he feels like he has to keep up with her. Peter hates that it feels like she always has the upper hand.

She makes him feel like he could go all night.

The witch proves she’s difficult, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” She jumps out of her seat, for the fourth time she’s left him thinking about her.

“Have a goodnight, Peter.”

“Yeah, you too.” He’s weary and doesn’t trust her.

Her back turned on him as she walked away, his eyes dropped to her ass and tilted his head impressively. He can’t deny a nice sight.

Too bad she’s a witch.

When he makes it back to the table it’s unnoticed, except for Tarrent, he gives Peter the smallest hint of a smile.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH

It was the day he’s been preparing for all week. The official start of the year, he wouldn’t be able to get too loose tonight, he’d be too busy kicking out anyone puking, fighting or excessively crying.

He also had a lecture and a lab today. He hates himself. If he plans it right, he’d have time to take a nap, not that he would, but the idea of one made him feel better. Speaking of naps, he still needs to set up a bed for Harvey in the chapter room.

Rolling over, Peter picked up his phone and went straight for twitter. It was his morning news, scrolling for a little until a headline caught his eye.

‘Spider-Menace’s scheduled slump.’ He clicks the link, it opens and he rolls his eyes, he should’ve expected it.

‘Spider-Menace is no longer patrolling the streets nightly, don’t worry criminals, you won’t be out of a job anymore. To the real heroes of the city, the citizens, we bid ado to the masked vigilante. For the second year, Spider-Menace picked up activity during the summer months, and has plans to become a rare sight during the months that follow.

It’s unsure what our ‘friendly’ city destroyer is up to, but we do know the ones trained for their job, the NYPD, are prepared for any threat. For more on Spider-Menace, download our app to be the first to know exclusive news updates.’

Just like usual, the Daily Bugle was dumb as shit.

Peter Parker had shit to do, a life to build. Spider-Man didn’t pay the bills, Peter did. It doesn’t mean choosing himself over a daunting responsibility was easy, the first year he stressed himself so thin he lost his abilities.

No strength, no healing, no heightened listening. He needed glasses for the first time in years, and for a second he swore his asthma came back.

Needless to say, it freaked him the fuck out. He’s always viewed Spider-Man as a thing he had to do, the great responsibility his uncle Ben reminded him of. And when he lost it, he realized how much he wrapped himself into his alter ego.

When Peter lost Spider-Man, he lost himself. And he swore if he got his powers back, he’d build a life for Peter outside them.

And he did. He has been. And no matter what his uncle told him, he knows he’d be damn proud of him for doing it.

Peter pulls at the chain around his neck and looks at the ring on it, it was Ben’s wedding ring. May gave it to him when he turned eighteen, she said he had a dream and needed him to have it. He’s worn it every day since then.

Bored of twitter he makes the switch to instagram, opening his messages and responding to the videos he’s been sent. For whatever reason he thinks about the witch, he wonders if he could find her from Ally’s page. He probably could, but it feels like cheating.

Starting his day the same way, he walks to his bathroom yawning and pulling his boxers off. Starting the shower and wasting the time waiting for it to heat up by brushing his teeth, tugging at the front of his hair with a grunt.

He needs a haircut.

He should get one before the party.

He also needs to buy booze.

And two fucking classes, that fucking guy really was a Spider-Menace.

‘Half lab, Peter. Half lecture.’ He thanks his own mind for the gentle reminder. The shower feels nice, it always does. On his bad days, the days where everything is too much it’s his safe place. He could stay in the shower for hours, the rushing water calms him, even when it turns ice cold.

They don’t happen often, but it’s debilitating when they do. He spends his day hiding, on one really bad day he was curled up on the floor of the shower with his hands pressing into his ears as hard as they could, trying his best to block everything out and it wasn’t working, nothing was working. He remembers sobbing, praying to any God that would listen to help him. No one heard him.

But that was last year. He had an episode over the summer, and as much as she didn’t want to leave him alone, he begged May to leave. Her walking around, or even sitting on the couch was too much. He could hear the fabric move underneath her, he could even hear her breathe.

It took hours, but when he was defeated and went from hearing the city to a low, constant ring he was ready to sleep. He’d be okay in the morning, sometimes that’s the only thing that gets him through it. He called May and apologized, and told her she could come back to her own home. She laughed at him and said ‘it’s your home too,’ and that made him feel better than a shower ever could.

But today wasn’t one of those days. Today, he was making it a good day.

—--------------

Peter’s good day took a small dip when he had to skip breakfast. And by skipping breakfast, he means all he had was a fat spoonful of peanut butter and an apple to go. He forgot to refill his water before leaving and nearly choked to death on the glue in his mouth.

Every dog in the world had gained his sympathy.

But, today was a good day. Especially when he was seated next to a smoking hot chick, he wasted no time in casually looking her over, committing details to think of rather than stare. A black skater skirt exposed a tattoo of Medusa that took up her entire thigh, a white shirt with a Vans logo in the center, it was obvious she cut the sleeves herself.

She was wearing a black bralette underneath, she was flat chested and he didn’t mind one bit. They suited her, she seemed too cool for him. She looked like she would ruin his life and he’d love every minute of it.

He wasn’t wasting any time, “first time here?”

The girl winced, he did too the second he said it.

“That’s your opening line, really? Are you proud of that?”

Peter shook his head, “I regretted it the second I said it. Usually I’m way cooler, but pretty girls make me nervous.”

The girl smiles, she has teeth to envy. “Smooth, did you plan that whole thing?” He didn’t, but if she believes it he’s not one to ruin dreams.

“Maybe things are working out in my favor, like sitting next to you.”

There’s a gleam in her eye, “you’re a flirter, and that makes you dangerous.” Peter might be laying it on thick here, but she may like it. “Hm, do you like danger?” Her eyebrow quirks, “do you?”

Oh, he wants her.

Peter extends his hand out, “Parker, nice to meet you.” The girl shakes his hand, it’s ultra soft. “Nice to meet you, Parker.”

What the fuck is up with girls not sharing their names? What’s he supposed to do, call them babydoll?

“Any plans tonight?”

“Your party, what else would I be doing?”

Peter’s celebrating on the inside, she’s just been booted to the top of the list.

“Glad to hear it, if you’re okay with it I’d love to play a game of pong with you.”

The girl holds a hand to her chest, jewelry covering her fingers and wrist.

“I’d be okay with it, not sure my girlfriend would be.”

Peter’s entire world collapses, he meets the girl of his dreams and he’s the furthest thing away from her type. She seems overjoyed to share the news, the defeat on his face is the highlight of her day. When he takes a good look at her he’s reminded of someone else.

“Is your name…” They say at the same time, “Lily?”

“I was waiting on that one, handsome. Rose told me all about you, I had to get two for oh.”

He has to take that one on the chin, “you live up to the hype, Lily.” She’s happy with his words, “same to you, Parker.”

Peter plays it cool when the lecture starts, he’s trying to make it a good day. But all he can think about are the witches' words. Maybe he really has lost his frat boy edge, so far his only prospects have been two lesbians and a freshman.

And just like that he has a burnt taste in his mouth, because he somehow rounded his thoughts back to her.

She’s fucking evil, and she’s a witch.

—--------------

Peter’s standing at the edge of the kitchen looking over the liquor on the counter. It’s an impressive haul, he doesn’t think they have enough coolers and fridges for all the beer. The island would be spread out with all the bottles, mixers, cups, and as tradition calls, jungle juice.

Tarrent is running around like a mad man, screaming at everyone but Peter to ‘fucking do something!’ Hasco’s preparing in his room and no doubt Trent’s joined him. Paul’s coming late due to Ally, no one’s shocked. Leaving Booker and Nick to follow every command from Tarrent.

Peter should help out, and he will later, but he’s got to take a shower. He got the haircut he needed and he can feel little hairs poking into his neck, plus, he’s not sure what the night could bring.

“Give me ten minutes to shower and I’ll help you guys, where’s E?” Booker shrugs, Nick’s sweating like a whore in church and Tarrent pauses to point and laugh.

“Ha! Parker’s about to go wash his balls.”

Peter squints at him, “yeah, girls tend to like that.”

“Yeah- sure, whatever you say, buddy.” Nick looks between everyone’s face while he slowly asks, like everyone is scared of the answer.

“Do you… Do you not wash your balls?”

“Showering is a scam made up by Dove soap. People say you only need to shower like, once a week.”

Peter shakes his head, “no, that’s not… Tarrent you work out all the time, I can’t believe I need to tell you, but you gotta wash your sack. In general and especially before you hook up, imagine a cheerleader after four days of practice and no shower asking you to munch down on her.”

Tarrent is a different breed, “that’s the difference between us, Parker. I enjoy the musk.”

Peter gags, Booker says, “man, that’s nasty.” Nick’s actually gagging, he’s got the weakest stomach to exist.

“That’s what separates you boys from us men.”

Nick whines through another gag, “I don’t wanna be a man, Parker, don’t let him make me a man.”

—-------------

Peter’s quiet as he gets ready.

His frat shirt looks good, he’s not one to fawn over his body, but he can’t help but nod impressively at his build. His shirts tighter this year, evidence of hard work. His haircut is nice, it’s a little shorter than he normally goes but he’s not sure when he’d get time to go again, so he wanted some wiggle room.

Even if it was bad no one would see it, at this point he feels naked without his snapback. Peter tucked his necklace into his shirt, he hates when girls ask him about it. He understands they need an ice breaker but it’s the worst one to bring up.

Brushing down his jeans and making sure his Nike’s were clean, he was ready for the night to start. He doesn’t know how he did it, but Tarrent had set up the entire kitchen by himself, snapping his fingers at Peter the second he saw him, requesting help for moving the couch.

Peter’s hands gripped at the edge of the couch, nodding at Tarrent, “ready?” They lift it in one go, moving to set it against the wall, then do the same to the other one, and the chairs. All that was left was a giant open space, couches and chairs were free game, but it made more space for more bodies.

“Make sure the keg fridge is working, I’m gonna go wash my balls.”

At least he took the advice.

Peter heads to the garage with a plastic cup and pulls at the keg tap, it takes a second and foam rushes out, then ice cold miller light. It was a small gimmick Peter made when he was pledging and he swears to this day that’s what got him sworn in.

He bought an old fridge off a grad student and emptied it out, threw a keg in and sawed a hole in the front to feed a tube and the tap. It was genius, everyone loved it. Peter chugs the beer and tosses the foam, they’ve got an hour until people start showing.

Peter wonders when the witch will show up, will he be able to feel her presence before he sees her? It’d be a nice warning but he doesn’t have the best control at gaging people he doesn’t know that well yet.

He needs to stop thinking about her, and fuck, he needs to make that bed for Harvey before Trent snaps his neck. Racing around for sheets and pillows, Peter opens the chapter door and sets up the pull out couch, he’s not a homemaker by any means but he’d be fine to sleep here.

“Oh good, I was making sure you were doing your job.”

Peter jumps, turning to look back at Trent. “I mean, not really my job, but sure.”

“You’re testy this year, don’t challenge me in front of Harvey, I need his respect.” Wow, the first time Trent ever admitted he needed something. Even if Peter doesn’t like him, he can respect his dedication to proving he could truly run the frat.

“Sir, yes, sir.” Peter salutes to his president, it makes him break his rough exterior, he’s nervous.

“That’s more like it, Parker.”

—----------------

“I think Harvey’s here.”

Peter moved to stand next to Ethan on his balcony, looking down at a Mercedes pulling into the driveway. “Yeah, that’s him.” His best friend scoffs, “isn’t it shit how the richest kids don’t appreciate what they have the most?”

“The fuck are you talking about, Kez? Don’t you have CFO daddy money?”

Ethan’s sharp, “don’t you have dead parents money?”

It went silent, both shocked he said it. Until they start laughing, if anyone else had said it, it would be in poor taste. When Ethan says it, he’s laughing with Peter, it’s like he shares the massive trauma with him.

“And dead uncle, check cleared the second after I turned twenty one.”

“That life insurance pays out, doesn’t it?”

Peter nods, breaking from the joke for a second. At the time when Ben had created it and fed into it, it was rare to have such a good plan.

“Oh yeah, he had awesome fucking benefits. My aunt still gets pension checks, he’s been dead for eight years.”

“No shit? That’s pretty fucking sick.”

“And not that they had any obligation to, but his company paid for the entire funeral.”

Peter doesn’t open up much, but it’s casual with Ethan. Even so, he doesn’t like showing his cards, it was minor, but he’s said more than enough.

“Hey! You, um…” Peter trails off when he relights the joint, the flame expanding before shrinking back down. His voice goes deep when he talks through an exhale, “got any plans with bio chick?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna play it cool. We have the semester together, too much too fast and it’s a dumpster fire.”

True fucking that. Obsessed Olivia ruined the first half of his second year, after that, he swore he wouldn’t hook up with a classmate before a two week period. (Unless he counts the lesbians, and he does not, because it’s not happening.)

“That’s so real, you’re so real for that.”

“I’ve been enlightened, I went to a sweat lodge retreat this summer and my third eye has been opened.”

Peter feels sick, “that’s the most rich kid shit I’ve ever heard.” Ethan smacks his arm, “I know how busy you are in the summer, otherwise I would’ve invited you.” Sometimes he feels like Ethan gives him a wink, wink, nudge, nudge look, but he’s also slightly paranoid and Ethan’s usually high.

“Oh. Damn. So sad I missed that.” It was monotone, and Ethan waves him off. “Sure, make fun of me now, but next year you’re coming and you’ll love it.”

“No, I need water. I’ll die.”

“I mean, you get water, dude. They just suck all of it out of you first and push you to the brink of death and delusion until you give into your ego and admit defeat because you’d do anything for a drop of water.”

Peter stares at him in horror.

“It’s awesome, dude.”

The boys turn their heads at a footstep on the deck, Harvey Gyun in his Burberry glory. He pushes aviators up to his hair, arms open wide in greeting, like he was about to tackle them.

“What’s up, you short dicks?”

Harvey’s a cool guy. It’s pretty surface level with him, he’s a rich asshole, only because he doesn’t know any better. But he still treats you well.

Peter could put up with him snapping at a waitress if it meant he was getting a free two hundred dollar meal, and he has. Several times.

Peter shouts out, “the king is back!” Harvey nods to the clapping, “that he is, that he is. How about you princesses bow for me?”

He's an alum. You do what they say, kidding or not.

The chapter officers bow at his request, Harvey giggles and rubs his hands together. “I forgot I have that power now, I’m gonna fuck with Simpson so hard. Be honest, how freaked out was he about me coming?”

As much as he didn’t like Trent he promised him he’d make him look good.

“Not bad, he was actually pretty chill.” Ethan doesn’t need to understand the bluff to back it, it’s his job as best friend.

“More excited to show you he’s ready for this, you did good at preparing him last year.”

Harvey can smell bullshit a mile away, but knowing the officers were dedicated to their president speaks volumes. The frat will be just fine without him.

“Good backing, boys. Daddy taught you well. Finish that,” he points at the joint, “and meet me downstairs. We need a toast before the year starts.”

Harvey Gyun has a kind of energy Peter’s never seen before. “Yes, sir.” Harvey kisses his teeth, rubbing at his lawline, Peter clocks his watch. It’s sixty grand.

“Such good boys.”

When the coast is clear, Ethan turns to Peter with a bit lip and a whimper. “I hate how much I loved that.” It’s not Peter’s preferred voice, but he can’t pretend he doesn’t know what he means.

“Yeah, good boy makes a man feral.” Peter passes the joint Ethan’s way, “kill it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

—--------------------

Peter looks around the room at his small group of brothers. When everyone else joined in, it’d be a blended family. But no one could ever be as close as these six guys, they’ve been through it all together.

He’s proud of himself and everybody in the room.

Three years. They’ve made it three years and as dumb as he’s always thought it was, even with all their minor grievances, he’s made friends for life. Even if they fall out of touch for a few years, he'll be at the wedding and the funeral.

“I won’t lie, it feels weird not hosting freshman Friday this year. But you fuckers have made it three years in and I couldn’t be prouder in my choice of men to recruit. Tonight, we party, we mistake, we regret and we have fun. And- I think Simpson’s the best president you could have.”

Trent visibly relaxes, everything he’s been praying for came to fruition. Harvey must have known he wouldn’t be able to do any of those things if he was paranoid of being watched all night. Harvey raised his shot glass and everyone did the same, taking a second to clap Trent’s shoulder before addressing the group.

The group chanted as one, “Sig Nu!”

Shot glasses double tapped on the counter, tequila was a bold choice. It was just the thing he needed for the night to start. Ethan’s eyes on the clock, he nudges Tarrent.

“Booker, Nick, collectors fee.”

They leave to stand guard outside the door, nodding at a forming line. Trent leaves with Harvey, Tarrent goes to set up the music that Hasco will take over once he’s done getting a fix. Ethan’s yelling at Hasco through the bathroom door about ‘not getting too coked up’ and Hasco biting back with a ‘fuck you!’

Peter shakes his shoulders and takes a step, Tarrent stops him with a hand on his chest. His voice lowered, looking around so no one would hear.

“Talk to the freshman. I mean it, Parker.”

It always circles back to her.

Witch, witch, witch, witch.

“You’re delusional.”

“Maybe I am, or maybe you trust me and talk to the girl.”

Peter wants to correct him, inform him she’s a witch because he can’t get her out of his mind. But the real reason she was a witch was because she made Peter want to talk to her more.

And that’s not who he is.

So, she has to be a witch.

Right?

YOUR FIRST WEEK.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH

It may have been the first day of the year, but the cafeteria was buzzing.

Breakfast in the food hall didn’t feel this busy on a normal school week. It seemed like everyone was sitting with their friends sharing a breakfast burrito or an orange, catching up from summer break. You were entertaining your friend group talking about a summer vacation and part time job you took up to save up spending cash for the school year.

(And leaving out the real source of cash- it’s cheating and you have to hide your eyes from Noa.)

Five people were at your table.

Ally Storm, dating Matt Paul of Sig Nu, second and third year roommate.

Sarah Adams, nursing student and never around.

Prince Otto, three years in and major undeclared.

Natalie Fieldman, roommate your freshman year, art major.

And Noa Carter, computer science superfreak.

The group talked over each other, then quieted down when nine hit. Everyone except you, Ally and Prince went to class. Leaning in when she spoke, you and Prince strained to hear, unaware she’d be spilling secrets.

“All that talk about this summer and you don’t even bring up Harvey?”

Harvey was the best well kept secret you had, he graduated last year and was an official alumni of Sigma Nu. You’d kept hooking up all summer, before parting ways when you moved back for college, keeping the door open so when he visited there was always an option.

“Woah, woah, woah. Harvey Gyun? I need when, where, why and what, right now.”

Holding up a hand you raise a finger at each point, “like three weeks before he graduated, my dorm or his room at a party, to have fun with zero commitment, and Ally would’ve never known if Matt didn’t see me sneaking out of his room at like, five am.”

Prince sucked his teeth, “he’s a prick, he said he was only sleeping with me.”

“Oh, what the fuck.”

Prince was seeing him too? Ally slammed her hand over her mouth, it’s how you felt.

“Double dipping bitch.”

You shrug, “you gotta respect a man’s hustle sometimes, Prince.”

Ally reached a hand out on the table, silently demanding attention. “You know who’s hustling will earn my respect?” A hand patted your shoulder, “our friend here, and it’s currently recruiting season at the frat house, thirty two new boys introduced.”

Your eyes bug out, “thirty two, what the fuck? How are they keeping count this year?” You could be an actress if you tried.

“Apparently, twelve will be cut by the second week. Then hazing starts, so we’ll scope it out next week and make our bets.”

“Prince, please pick a winner this year.”

Green hair swayed when he shook his head, arms crossed. “Nope, I got a thing for the underdog.”

Ally grinned up at her boyfriend when he took a seat next to her, three breakfast burritos on a plate. Your eyes flashed up for the rest of the frat, scanning the food lines you counted heads. Aaron, Keznek, Hasco, Bakner. Trying not to let the disappointment show you looked back at Ally, talking quicker than lightning to her boyfriend, who definitely wasn’t listening as he scarfed burritos down.

Looking at the time you frown, you had an appointment with your class advisor and a shitload of books to rent and buy. Standing, you look over to the coffee bar, having enough time you grab another cup and go.

You rattle your paper cup as show and hitch a near empty bag over your shoulder. “Meeting with my advisor, have a lovely first day my friends.” Matt gave an extra loud goodbye as you walked off, sending him a middle finger behind your back. Saying quick ‘excuse me’s’ as you passed through the crowd, doing your best to avoid shoulders.

Approaching the small, self-serve coffee cart you open your cup, then see a ‘please use a new cup each time!’ sign and followed instructions, grabbing a piping hot pot of coffee, full of caffeine and loaded up.

Steam billowed over your fingers as you filled the cup up, peering over the assortment of milk and sugar you grin at your pick of the litter.

Looking over to your left when someone stands next to you, you feel your heart race. Swiping his card at checkout and sharing conversation with the line worker, you’ve never seen anything more attractive. You allow yourself to imagine him handing his card to a waiter at dinner, a dinner he asked you out to.

Even more handsome than the last time you saw him, a secret crush.

Last year he had broken up a fight between some twins that were later kicked out the frat, watching him tear them apart and slam the bigger one to the ground as the other was held back by Keznek, made something click in your brain and suddenly you had your eye out for Peter Parker everywhere you went.

The comedic irony being you’ve never spoken to him, fairly sure he doesn’t even know you exist. Flying under his radar for two years, last year boosting you with confidence with your hookup partners, you promised this was the year of going after what you want.

And you wanted Peter Parker.

Snapping the lid you turn to leave, sliding sideways between two tables. About to cross by the table you were just sitting at, you look down at your shoe, losing balance and shoulder checking the person next to you, quickly apologizing.

“So sorry!”

The universe had your back, who else did you bump into other than your crush himself?

Brown hair hidden under a snapback, a heather gray t-shirt with red details, his fraternity logo on the corner of his chest and a full piece on the back. Brown eyes with a honey ring looked at you, for a moment you felt your chest tighten. Peter Parker was about to talk to you, it felt like your tongue went thick, until his eyes hardened and looked at you with disgust.

A sneer, “fucking freshman.”

What a prick, it was a tap and you apologized. He wasn’t the person you’d hoped he’d be, it was a shame he was too cute. “I hope you fucking choke.” You bark at him, words spilling before you could think, then bolting.

Peter’s eyes go wide at your statement, whizzing by a table and up the steps you leave the dining hall. Stomping away, like your harsh steps could be proof for the discontent you felt. It felt somewhat satisfying, because you felt him watching you all the way out.

It may have not been what you liked, but there was no way Peter Parker wouldn’t know who you are after today.

—-----------------------

Shaking your leg and tapping the heel of your foot on the linoleum you look around, arms crossed as you rope over your future. The easy years are over, it’s all about focusing on your major now.

Your advisor is nowhere to be seen, you can’t imagine how many people she’s seeing this week. Eyes catching the inspirational posters in her office, they’re cheesy at best, but damn if they don’t make you feel slightly proud of yourself for getting this far.

Gripping your coffee cup, you look at the cafeteria logo and grimace.

Your meet cute was more like a meet ugly, but maybe he was having a bad day? It’s not like you were all sunshine and roses, the start of the school year sucked, and if you knew anything about last night, he was probably hungover. Unlike you, because you knew the consequences of your actions, you chose to stay in no matter how hard Ally had begged.

‘C’mon, please?’ she dragged out her ‘e’ and gave you puppy dog eyes.

‘Tempting, but no.’ your bed was extremely comfortable underneath you.

‘Please? I don’t wanna go alone.’ if you didn’t know Ally as well as you do you might have given in, but you knew she was full of bullshit.

‘I’m not getting out of bed, dressing, and going to sit in a loud ass frat house while you practice making babies with your boyfriend.’

Argument proved right the next day when she arrived back at the dorm at six in the morning, makeup smeared and a memory of a wild night. The only thing shared before she fell into her bed and passed out for the next two hours was, ‘why did you let me do that? You suck.’

Blinking out of the fog when the door opens, you’re greeted by the same advisor you’ve had for the last two years. “Halfway there, kiddo.” Grinning at her words, scared, but prepared for the next step. Mrs. Caliban swayed her hips as she walked to her desk, sitting in her chair and pushing her glasses to her hair.

“Let’s figure out what books you really need, hm?”

Settling into your seat and crossing your legs, holding your knee in place with your palms.

“I’m ready for some of that Mrs. Caliban magic.”

Watching her look over your classes you appreciate how hard she’s working, crunching numbers and using her knowledge as proof of purchase she tsks as she looks over your requirements log.

“Half of these you won’t use, my advice? Friend up with a sucker who buys one and use theirs on the rare or off chance you actually need it.”

Your heart soaring when she gives you your new sheet, initialing on her copy and stopping yourself from bouncing in your seat. You’re getting her a care package, you don’t care what she says. She’s your guardian angel that just saved you six hundred bucks and secured your ski tip this December.

“Mrs. Caliban, you just did wonders for me, you have no idea.”

You can’t tell if she’s blushing but her response makes you think she is.

“The miracles are why I do it, kiddo. Now, if you don’t mind, I have thirty seven others to make today.”

You caught the hint, scrambling from your seat and hooking an empty bag around your shoulder, prepared to be filled with less books than you were prepared for. How crazy.

Mrs. Caliban’s voice called out your last name before you could open the door, “I have a good feeling about you, I think it’ll be your year. I’m proud of you.”

And damn if that doesn’t make your eyes water.

“I’m counting on it now, Mrs. Caliban. Don’t be wrong.”

Her face tells you you have nothing to worry about, it’s an unamused expression.

“Tell me, baby. When have I ever been wrong?”

You can’t think of one.

—--------------

You couldn’t keep the grin off your face, thumbs moving as quickly as possible across your keyboard. It was already planned for, and it was going to happen no matter what, but what your advisor just did for you tied the bow. And gave you some fun money.

‘Guess who just saved $600 and is DEFINITELY going on the ski trip?’

Ally’s response was immediate.

‘telling matt rn so he can secure the spot. SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS!!!!’

Butting your hip against the bar doorknob, you swung the door outwards and stepped outside, your eyes adjusting to the light. Blinking quickly, you peered up and took a wide step towards the right, heading to the bookstore.

‘Dude, you have no idea. Mrs. Caliban is a fucking hero.’

‘i will give her my life for making it possible for this to happen.’

‘you have no idea, i was about to be so miserable with no other girls there.’

‘Prince is close enough.’

Suddenly, he has something to say. The group chat was his idea but it’s really just you and Ally talking to each other while Prince reads it and randomly jumps in. Peeking up and approaching the line for the bookstore, which wrapped around the building you looked back down at your messages.

‘Hey, popping in to say a few choice words.’

‘Fuck you.’

You heart reacted his message, biting your lip in a silent giggle. Ally laugh reacted, which made Prince follow up with a middle finger emoji. Forgetting how close you were to the line, and lost in the excitement of saving money and going on a ski trip you lose focus and crash into the person in front of you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you and I’m sorry!”

And, oh fuck, you recognize that shirt. It was ingrained in your mind that morning. If you thought he wasn’t going to forget you earlier then you’ve just signed it into law, he’d never forget you now.

It’s proven when he hits you with the same insult from earlier, you don’t know why it annoys you so much, maybe it’s the assumption. Or maybe it’s because it should be obvious that you weren’t a freshman.

“Want a tip? Look where you’re walking.” He says it with a bitter laugh, like he’s just so funny.

Peter Parker seemed like a nice guy. You didn’t know him, sure, but when you watched him at parties he seemed nice and respectful. And sure, you get his discomfort but only to a certain level. You did break his personal space twice, but him berating you and making you feel like shit just because you weren’t paying attention was a dick move.

It was an accident, both times. And you apologized profusely, at this point it’s on him to not accept the apology and be bitter. It says nothing about you and everything about him. So, it’s only fair if you call him out on his bullshit and state the obvious, he was a dick that spewed too many pet names.

It reeked of condescending and you didn’t have time for it. Maturely, you spun your back on him and redirected your attention on your phone.

Immaturely, Peter asked if you backed down, thinking you couldn’t win in a pissing contest with him.

You kept reminding yourself it spoke more about him than yourself, until you really didn’t understand the anger so you just have to ask.

This message was sent privately.

‘What the fuck is Parker’s problem and who hurt him?’

‘sig nu parker? i dunno, why?’

‘He’s a dick. Is he normally a dick or has he singled me out to be his hate train?’

‘why is parker picking on you?? no, he’s very nice. what did u do?’

‘I bumped into him twice and he keeps calling me freshman :(‘

‘well… u better kiss and makeup cause you guys are airplane buddies on the trip.’

You stare at your screen with an open jaw, Mrs. Caliban was wrong, it was a terrible year and it literally just started.

‘Oh you’re fucking with me, right?’

‘... right, Ally?’

‘😶 ummmm i would lie, but there’s no point.’

‘Oh my god, take one for the team and just sit with me. You’ll survive without Matt for four hours.’

‘i would. i swear i would, but we already bought the seats, speaking of… i was praying for a miracle and pre-bought your seat soooo. 😬’

‘And Prince wasn’t a good enough option????????????????????’

‘ok, princess. to be FAIR we didn’t know you hated each other so…’

‘plenty of time to kiss and makeup tho!!!’

Feeling safe enough to turn around, you ease when he’s got his focus on his own phone. Safely avoiding each other, you can breathe better.

‘Just so you know my current situation, he’s actively hating me so you kiss and makeup that.’

Until your shoes hit his, and he hits you with a cocky grin that sends your heart skipping. It’s unfair he’s so attractive, he can’t be mean and hot, they cancel out. Unless it’s on him, because then it’s down right tempting and frustrating.

“This one’s on me, sweetheart.”

Knowing you’ll have to keep the peace for at least three months makes it doable, and if you can keep it cool, then you could avoid each other peacefully. Until a five hour flight; with him, you’re rounding up.

Peter’s offer makes you question his character. He went from hating you in a second to.. dare you say flirt? Yet again insinuating you’re a freshman, you were about to correct him but stopped. No use, he’d figure it out soon enough. He’d also find out his flight partner soon enough, and if you thought you were unhappy with the news, you couldn’t wait to see him blow up.

You could see a backup plan written on his face. His attitude flipped in a second, he went from displeased to charming quicker than you’ve ever seen.

It’s not right how much you wanted to give in, but you wouldn’t be so easy, especially after he’s been so mean.

Calling him out on his bullshit, you could see he was humbled a bit. Not expecting his play to be announced step by step. What made it better was gaining the upper hand on him, this time you sent him away second guessing himself.

Smirking, you pull your phone back out.

‘Nvm, thought it over, Parker seems fun.’

‘oh. so he flirted with you.’

‘Now, why would you even say that?’

‘cause i know you, lol. also, he’s a tough guy to hate. it’s something about him.’

Well, you’ll just have to figure that out yourself.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH

The science building smelt like chemicals, a faint mixture of formaldehyde and bleach. It was oddly comforting and felt homey. Even if you felt like everyone around you was smarter than you, it didn’t feel intimidating. Everyone supported everyone in this hall.

Your feet subconsciously match to the beat of the music flowing through your earphones, smiling at a person sharing the hallway when you curve around the corner. You liked biology just fine, so much so you’re minoring in it.

But you could also admit that this particular semester was going to drag on. Field botany just wasn’t your thing. Plants were incredibly boring to you, they always have been. Save the planet, produce more trees, stop cutting them down, produce more oxygen, all those things.

At the end of the day, learning about plants sucked the life out of you and you were feeling very neutral about the class. You followed a classmate through the door, grazing over the mostly empty room. It was smaller than you expected, you had the pick of the litter.

Middle, middle row was the superior spot. Close enough to pay attention, but far enough to not gain it. Sitting in the center left you throw your bag in the seat next to you and start to set things up, pulling out your laptop, the class syllabus and a pen.

Putting your headphones away and sitting straighter, you focus on the whiteboard, in rainbow bubble letters is your professor's name, ‘Dr. Thatcher.’ It’s cute, you grin at the small hint of personality. Watching students slowly fill in the back rows you sit straighter knowing your row would be next, hopeful your neighbors would be friendly.

Your head turns when the seat next to you is filled, it’s a frat boy.

“God, I am so fucking excited for this term, how about you?”

It’s Ethan Keznek. You never studied him, you knew who he was but you never actually noticed him, but looking into his eyes all you could think of was how long his eyelashes were. It seems like he’s noticing you too, he’s sly with it but he’s looking you up and down.

“Plants aren’t my thing, but I’m assuming they’re yours?”

A toothy smile, you can immediately tell he’s had braces before. He releases a breath before exploding, “god, they’re amazing, aren’t they? Self sustaining, self producing, they literally give us the air we breathe. How could you not find plants extraordinary?”

Ethan’s eyes have a twinkle, it shows passion. You tilt your chin at him, “please tell me you’re majoring in botany, the world needs a lorax.” He breaks into a laugh, it’s charming and contagious, you smile with him.

“Lucky guess, what’s yours?”

You shift in your seat to face him better, “biology’s actually my minor, I’m majoring in english.” Ethan whistles, “big reader?” You nod, “if you ever need some recommendations, I’m your girl.”

Ethan tilts his head and sticks his hand out, “Ethan Keznek, nice to meet you.” You stick your hand in his and shake it, it’s strikingly soft. You introduce yourself and his smile grows, “well,” he says your name and pauses, both of your eyes looking to the front when your new professor enters.

He talks softly, “I will make it my personal mission to make you enjoy plants this semester.” You turn to focus on the front but talk out the corner of your mouth, “unless someone like you cares a whole lot…”

You bite back a grin when you catch him laughing silently, both of you sitting in quiet when your teacher starts to introduce herself. She’s young and a redhead, everything about her seems symmetrical. Something tells you the semester wouldn’t be so bad.

The class was an hour, followed by an hour lab. Class wasn’t bad, the first day was always easy, mostly introductions to the class, the work and the expectations. You stood and stretched before slowly repacking your belongings, Ethan working at the same speed, you assume to keep up with you.

As he zipped his backpack, Ethan cleared his throat and looked at you. You raised your eyebrows and waited, “I know it’s the first day, but would you want to be my lab partner?” It’s the first time you’ve truly met him, but you feel nothing but comfortable around him, he’s kind.

“It would be my honor.”

—---------

Peter Parker was handsome, and pretty, and captivating and slightly mean. You couldn’t stay away from him, but his attitude was enough to make you question if he’s worth the frustration.

You swore to yourself you’d go after him this year, you promised you’d get him into bed. But you can’t deny how good Ethan looked in a lab coat; even safety goggles couldn’t dim those green-brown eyes.

“God I missed this, I was separated from test tubes and pipettes all summer.”

You breathe out your nose as a laugh, “you’re one of those kids that lost his shit over getting a chemistry set for christmas, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, mouthing numbers as he counts his drops, looking at you and the sheet in front of you, bouncing back and forth until you catch the hint.

“Oh!” You scribble the reaction, smiling when he corrects you. “It was a botany kit.”

Looking over at him you can feel a tiny tug on your stomach, it felt like you were losing the plot from Peter. You wanted it to work with Peter, you didn’t really know him outside of surface value, but it felt like you did, and you know that sounds weird, but when he’s around you feel a bit more like yourself.

But Ethan’s easy. “Of course it was.” Ethan’s back to measurements, “you doing anything Friday?” You nibble at your cheek, you know what he’s about to ask. “Nope, you?” He nods, “the frat’s doing freshman Friday,” Ethan looks over his shoulder to ask you, “planning on coming?”

Peter may have asked you first, and you promised you’d be committed to the task, but if he viewed you as a backup plan, you should have one too. Not that Ethan was a second choice, he was just another option at this point.

“Are you kidding? The Sig Nu freshman welcome is famous for a reason, you think I’d miss it?” Ethan diverted his attention to the PH chart on the page resting between you.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He cleared his throat and nodded at a test tube, “that’s a solid four, don’t you think?” You hold your hands up in surrender, “you’re the plant expert, lorax.”

Your pencil is plucked from your hand, he writes his fours odd. He can’t stop making you smile, “well, unless someone like me cares a whole lot…”

—---------------

The entire group was at your dorm. By the entire group you mean Ally, Matt, Prince, and Natalie. A pack of forgotten cards scattered on the floor, everyone focused on their red cups and speaking over each other. Sarah was unable to join in person, but she’s on a facetime call and jumping in when she can.

“On god, I’m gonna fuck my atonamy professor this year.” You choked at Sarah’s comment, Natalie immediately cheering, “who is it?” Sarah bit her lip explaining, “just the hottest hunk of ass to exist. Dr. Youge, and trust me, I wanna go rogue, if you know what I mean.”

“Can confirm, he’s sexy.”

Matt breaks from his twelve minute makeout with Ally, “Prince, you think everyone’s sexy.” He’s nodding accordingly, “because they are.”

“Is this a good time to say Nate and I made it official?” The group overlaps in exclaims, Natalie in the hot seat for a second, her cheeks on fire.

“When?!”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“What?!”

Natalie pushes her hair behind her ears, gold jewelry on display. “Um, well, basically he said he didn’t picture himself settling down but the idea of someone being able to swoop me up made him sick.”

You and Ally form a chorus, Prince joins in halfway through while Matt claps his hands over his ears, “awwww.” He can’t stand the squealing, “yeah, yeah, yeah…” Matt kicks your knee, “did you know Harvey's coming on friday?”

Interest piqued, you hadn’t known, but the promise of the night ending in sex was in your cards and it makes everything about the first week of school better. A reward, if you will.

In two days you have three prospects, Mrs. Caliban was right, this was your year. “I didn’t but…” your eyes shoot to Prince’s, you’d claim dibs because he was yours first, but you didn’t want a hookup to cause a friendship to rift.

“Oh please, I was sloppy seconds. He’s yours.” You stick out your tongue, “why else would he come?”

“The frat. To help the frat kick off the start of the year, because he's an alum. Of the frat.”

Natalie scoffs, “Ally, tell your boyfriend he’s stupid. Harvey’s obviously coming for girly and girly alone. Your frat is just a cover up.” It wasn’t, but Matt was gullible and hell bent on proving you wrong.

“No, it’s tradition. All the old chapter presidents come back after their first graduation. It’s a hello and goodbye thing, like a, um… what am I thinking of, babe?” Ally fixes a piece of his hair sticking straight up, “passing of the torch?” Matt’s thick hand squeezed her bum sending Prince gagging and Natalie blushing. “So fuckin’ smart, I love when you know what I’m thinking.”

Natalie jumps up after looking at her cracked phone screen, “and I’m thinking Nate’s wondering where I am cause I forgot we had a date tonight.” Ally hissed in through her teeth, “play the ‘helped a crying friend’ card, say Matt and I got in a fight.”

Matt stage whispers, “we didn’t have a fight, right?” His girlfriend shakes her head, patting at the tuft of hair sticking up from his scalp, “no, honey.” A grin cracks, “good-” Ally interrupts, “unless Nate asks, then we got in a fight and you made me cry.”

“A total mess, she was weeping all over the floor. Natalie had to help me get her into bed.” Prince jumps in, “I was also there, and crying in support of the Matt strike.”

“So, call you guys if I need to bury a body? Got it.” You speak over the group laugh, “yeah, right. Call Noa, she’d have that shit taken care of in an hour.”

“No, but that’s actually so true.”

“She’s scary but in a sexy way.” Matt groans, “again with the sexy, Prince, good lord.”

“Everyone’s sexy! We’ve been over this!”

Natalie slowly gathers her things, giving you and Ally a silent salute at the door, Prince and Matt bickering back and forth. Looking back at your laptop you shrug, Sarah’s made another silent escape. You wave to your friend watching the door creak open, Natalie doesn’t feel bad for missing out. Neither does Sarah, apparently. “Okay, have fun, byeee.” The door slamming made the boys stop, blinking aware and immediately forgetting why they were debating.

The main squad together at last, you bring the real topics to the table. Clearing your throat and pouring a new drink, you look at the group. “So, Paul, what’s the inside scoop with the pledges and how do I make money out of this?” (As if you didn’t already know.)

Ally and Prince start speaking over each other. “Nope!”

“Not happening!”

“There’s a reason Matt doesn’t vote! He’s biased!” Matt plows right through, “thou shall not steal, it’s a commandment, babe.” You snort, “and what would I be stealing?”

The blonde shrugs, “my knowledge.”

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

Sleep was tasting good today, you planned on sleeping in as long as you could. The type of sleeping where you get tired of sleeping and open your eyes wide awake and well rested.

The keyword was planned, it’s been a nice summer off from Ally and Matt, because you forgot how they were early risers and were dependent on you for their enjoyment.

“Hey, get up.” You politely ignore the request, it’s already too bright, Ally ripped the curtains apart so you’re hidden under your pillow.

“Oh roomie, please rise.” Even when a pillow slams down on your butt you don’t move, you even attempt to hold your breath, hopeful they’d think you were dead and let your body decompose into your mattress. You wheeze for air and try to scramble from the bed when Matt throws himself on top of you, bouncing and pushing all his weight into you, rattling your name off like an impatient toddler.

“I miss the days when Ally slept at the house,” you try and yell it out, it comes out in squeaks when Ally mounts Matt, “it’s my day off and I’m getting dogpiled!”

“Get up! There’s belgian waffles at the dining hall!” You had the entire day to nap, there were waffles to be eaten. You wriggle around until the bodies on you disappear and you’re heaving for air. Throwing the blanket off and standing you give your friends a staredown before ripping your shirt off. Matt throws his hands over his eyes and screams, “thou shall not commit adultery, thou shall not commit adultery!”

“If you sleep here you see my boobs, Ally knows the rules!” Matt’s screaming at his girlfriend, “it’s a sin! Adultery is a sin!” Ally pushes his side, “you screamed sin before you saw nipple!” You’re changing clothes as fast as you can, if anything Matt would be scarred and keep Ally with him at his place, then you might be able to get some real sleep.

“Sorry, Matt, but, uh… maybe if you sleep at your house you won’t see my boobs?” Ally gives you a glare from God himself, “Matty, this is what she wants. Next time, you better stare right at them.” Her boyfriend cries out, “no!” You roll your eyes, “all covered, you sinner. I’m ready for waffles.”

Matt can’t even look at you in the eyes, a weary finger is pointed at your chest. “Temptation lives in you.”

—----------------

If there wasn’t butter coating each small square in your waffle, there wasn’t enough butter. Noa Carter slides into a seat next to you, wiping syrup from your chin, you smile and take another bite.

“Pledge secured?” Your eyes shoot around, looking for Ally and Matt, it eases your racing heart when they’re still in line loading up.

“I’m meeting with Trent tomorrow night.” You feel gross, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do. “Do you think anyone’s gonna find out?” Noa chews on the straw from her ice coffee, “if Trent lets it slip to anyone else then Matt finds out, if he finds out Ally does, and once she knows, everyone knows.”

“Fuck, I know. He can’t say anything, we- I mean, I have leverage.”

“You think he can’t buy his way into school again?” You shake your head, speaking while you chew, “not without everyone knowing.” Noa tilts her head, she’s saying ‘fair point,’ with her motion. You grab her hand, “hey, thanks again. For the help, and keeping it between us.”

Noa was nice, but not kind. She was a valuable resource for the group but made it clear she was into friendships for the transactional side. Noa could keep a secret, and she knew people in places you didn’t know existed, but if you used those talents she’d need yours in return. A deal with the devil each time you talk to her.

“You’re indebted to me, you know that, right?” She was serious too, not fucking around while trying to get the last bit of coffee through the ice. You nod stiffly, it could be today or twenty years, but when she calls in that favor you have to abide.

“Hey, Noa!” Ally’s always nice, Matt barely looks at her before shoving the corner of a waffle in his mouth. Noa looks at him in disgust and taps her knuckles on the table, “I'm out, see you later.” Ally pouts, “bye, Noa!” She smiles politely, “goodbye, Ally.”

You thank her again with your eyes, “you coming to the party tomorrow?” Noa rotates her hand back and forth, giving you a so-so response. “We’ll see.” Watching Noa walk off you can understand how people find her both mesmerizing and scary, she carries herself in a way that screams she’s the smartest in the room and you believe it.

“What are you wearing tomorrow?” You face Ally and watch her chew on a strawberry, “dunno yet, wanna dress me?” Her face lights up, nodding quickly she swallows, “I got this top over the summer and it’s gonna look so good on you!” Matt speaks staring at his phone, a gameplay blasting through his speakers. “Will Harvey Guyn find it hot?”

If you could reach across the table you’d smack him, instead you finish your waffle. “Does he even have a room there, cause fucking on a twin is torture,” you look at your roommate, “unless we put the beds together…”

Ally raises her hand to cover her mouth while she eats, “I’ll be sleeping with Matty at the house, when I come back Saturday afternoon, and the room is how it was when I left and my sheets are clean… I’ll be none the wiser to what happened.”

You slide your plate away and reach your fork over the table to steal a banana slice, “I was joking but it’s nice to know you’re so-” you chew and stare at Matt while he rubs at his nose and wipes it on his pants; you look back at Ally and grimace. “-kind.”

“Harvey’s crashing in the chapter room, so unless you like a pull-out couch I recommend staying at yours.” You look at Ally, “what’s the chapter room?” You’ve never heard of it, or seen it. And you’re positive that besides the top floor where the members slept, you’ve been in every room of the house.

“A secret room that no one but chapter officers are allowed to be in. I’ve seen it but I’ve never been inside. I tried one time and Matt told me to leave.” Eesh, if Matt kicked Ally out that means it’s a cardinal rule. “So even if I wanted to, I couldn’t sleep in there?”

Matt nods, “correct.” Ally leans into her boyfriend and grabs his elbow, he keeps his focus on his phone while she whispers in his ear. Taking some time to look around the dining hall you recognized a few faces, waving at a girl you shared a few classes with last year.

When you looked up to the upper level, you locked eyes with Peter. You were being sucked in and couldn’t stop. It was like he was telling you to come closer, come talk to him, like he’s inviting you to his table. The chatter in the room fizzled away, time stood still. It felt like your hearts were in sync, it felt like he was looking into you, it felt like you had a crush.

It felt stupid to think anyone could come close to him.

Peter wasn’t looking away, instead analyzing you the same way. He wasn’t sneering, he was curious. You never knew brown eyes could be so captivating, you wonder if he knew how dangerous he was.

Forced to break away when Ally noticed, “who are we looking at?” You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want anyone to know. You stop her from turning, “I thought I saw someone I went to high school with,” you look back up, Peter disappeared.

“False alarm.”

-----

It was just you and Spider-Man in your room.

His plush body laid across your chest, your arms wrapped tight around had flattened him. You spent your day watching Netflix, but after hours it became boring and you switched to scrolling through your phone, hopping between apps before you ended on instagram.

You clutched Spider-Man tighter when you hit the search tab, his name popping up first. He never used his main account, three posts from the past two years. You found his burner account, it was set to private. You wanted nothing more than to push that request to follow, but he didn’t know you like that just yet.

The second you were allowed to follow Peter Parker’s finsta, you’d plow through all one hundred and twelve posts, analyzing each one. You chew your lip for a moment and go to Ally’s page, searching through her followers you see his account, you debate on getting her phone and stalk that way, but it feels like cheating.

It’s eight pm and you think nothing other than frozen yogurt would stop your obsession, so you grabbed your keycard and left Spider-Man to keep your spot warm.

You had an early class the next day and a party with three people you could talk to, one of them being someone that would forsure be in your bed. If only Peter would have you in his bed first. If you were being honest, you’d love to see Peter fight for you.

It’s only slightly exhausting being delusional.

The food hall was dead and you went from mildly hungry to starving the second you smelled food, detoring for a quick sandwich you stuffed it in your bag before crossing the floor for your sweet treat. A prickle on the back of your neck told you to look to your left, at a table with his brothers, was Peter Parker.

It felt like a gravitational pull, you manifested him being in your life since last year and it’s finally happening. The next time you and Prince go out you’re pulling him into a psychic’s shop for a reading. You were caught by who you think was Tarrent, if you remember correctly, he hooked up with Natalie your freshman year.

Blue eyes met yours, just the smallest hint of a smile. It sent you turning your head and stepping behind the bathroom wall for a breather, hiding in embarrassment. You counted to thirty before peeking your head from around the corner, Tarrent kept your secret, no one was looking at you.

This time, watching yourself, you don’t bump into anyone in line for frozen yogurt. You’d hate for another lesson in spatial awareness, unless it’s coming from Peter, in that case you’d take any kind of conversation.

Even when he’s berating you he’s pretty.

Leaving with your cup of dessert you watch Peter walk right by you, hearing his mumbles of a Beastie Boys song. You couldn’t help yourself, a chance at hello. It was an opportunity to have a normal conversation, maybe more of his shining character would come through. Taking a seat at a hightop near the bathrooms you wait until your target comes out.

Humming at the taste of sugar hitting your tongue you look over to his table, you notice Ethan and you hope he doesn’t notice you too. To put it bluntly, you didn’t want Peter thinking he had competition. You don’t even consider Harvey Guyn as competition, he was just a good fuck. He didn’t get dinner with you or take you on dates, and you didn’t want that. At least not from him.

Harvey’s conversations were dry and always built around impressing the people around him. He had great successes for someone his age, but daddy’s money didn’t impress you much.

You sit straighter when you hear the bathroom door open, listening to Peter mumble rap a chorus you jumped in, “another girl, another fight.” He jumped slightly, surprised to see you sitting right next to him. Taking another bite you stare in his eyes while you wrap your tongue around the spoon, Peter sounds breathless when he speaks.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Peter.”

The look on his face told you if he didn’t notice you before, he did now. Did you just stand out from the crowd with one word? You think so. Peter clears his throat lightly, “and you are…” he wants you to fill in the blank, you find some joy in being mysterious, even if it’s just for another night. You pluck your spoon from your mouth, a wide smirk paints on your lips.

“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” It mildly annoyed him and it made your stomach tug, something about his expression made you happy to bother him. Until he called your bluff, you might have planned this one interaction but everywhere else he just seems to notice you. You’ve always had a wandering eye for him but he’s just now catching on.

Giving him a scouts honor, you promise you haven’t been following him, because you haven’t. It’s that universal pull, each time you’re around him it’s like you’re tasting air while also being breathless. He’s pretty, too pretty for his own good.

Peter’s tempting even when he’s slightly misogynistic, you think he likes your attitude. If there’s one thing you learned, it’s that a man likes it when he has to do a little chasing. You have an early class and Spider-Man at home.

Sliding from your seat, your shoes squeak on the linoleum. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” Dare you boldly claim he looked a little disappointed? It seemed like he was. You wish him a goodnight and he returns it, you can’t stop your satisfied smile when you feel him watching you leave.

Quickly stomping up the stairs you look back at Peter’s table, you escaped with only one person looking back at you. Tarrent shoots you a wink, it wasn’t one that was directed at you, but directed at your actions. He knows nothing of you but you have his support, it makes you curious at best, cautious at worst. You stare at the floor until you reach the door, pushing out and taking in the fresh air.

It didn’t feel as refreshing as when you were with Peter. You shrug it off, you already had someone waiting back at home.

Spider-Man’s just as dependent on you as you are him.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH

Morning classes sucked because they were in the morning. Morning classes were awesome because you felt like you focused better, and there was a better student to teacher ratio. Ally whined when your alarm went off, you stood with her in solidarity, because fuck waking up to a slow steady build of music.

“Sorry, roomie.”

Her hand poked from a blanket, waving you off from across the room. You weren’t sure if it was in annoyance or understanding. She had another hour before her class and she was planning to crush thirty of those minutes by hitting snooze.

You moved quickly and quietly, only packing what was needed, and opting for an oversized university hoodie sans your bra. You believed in one thing, casual friday; and you honor it every week. Silently shutting your dorm door you cruise down the hallway, taking in the deep silence and empty scene.

You weren’t a morning person at all, you preferred to wake up slowly and on your own terms, most times hitting snooze way too many times. But you loved the slow calm of the morning, watching the sun fully rise, hearing birds scream the earth awake, feeling empathy for every person with tired, puffy eyes.

Morning’s were gentle, and sometimes you really enjoyed gentle. Friday was your creative writing class and you think it’ll be your favorite for the next year.

Your hypothesis proved true because your professor was the hottest silver fox you’ve ever seen. Every fantasy of being bent over your teachers desk was racing through your mind, you didn’t know how you could ever pay attention.

When he talks, his words curl around your ears, a stubble buzz in your stomach makes you focus in on his lips, watching them pout around ‘S’s. “Hey,” she was late, but Noa was there. “Hey,” you whisper back.

Her smirk is devilish, “talk to Trent yet?” It’d be a punishment until you finished your plan, then she’d let it die. It’s something to do with making her efforts worth it, and making you owe her a favor. You almost regret asking her, but the payoff is worth the narcissism.

Since freshman year, you, Ally, Prince and Natalie made a bet on one person rushing to make it into full recruitment. Sarah joined last year but backed out this year, she’d be too busy in her nursing classes, she made it pretty clear she’d be absent this year.

When it started everyone pitched in a hundred bucks, Natalie won. Last year everyone pitched in five hundred, Ally won. You love your friends, but it left a sour taste in your mouth that people who didn’t need the extra pocket money won.

You weren’t lying when you had a summer job, but it was quickly drained with class and book payments. None of your friends had to worry about that. So, when you found out that your high school friend's ex-boyfriend's little brother was rushing for Sigma Nu, a plan formed.

You upped the stakes this year, big time. Tripling the honey pot by three, fifteen hundred each. That was half of your summer job money, but the payoff was worth the temporary loss. You had an in at the frat and you knew how much the competition games meant, being number one fraternity was the most important thing for Sig Nu, especially after losing it last year to Alpha Delta.

Next step was getting someone to secure the information, enter Noa. She had cracked into every frat on campus and gotten the files, printed them out and completed the job with a pretty folder. It was Noa’s idea to get dirt on Trent, you commended her for her smarts, she claimed she just really hated him.

The real plan was making sure your pledge made it in and no other friends won so you wouldn’t have to share the honey pot. It was skeevy and made you feel slightly dirty, but sometimes you have to play in the mud so you can eat dinner for the year.

As long as no one found out, you’d be okay. Although, deep in your heart you know that while your friends would feel betrayed at first, they’d understand and come around. Mostly because Matt would use some christian wisdom on them and smite them into forgiveness.

“Tonight.” Noa nods, “you impress me, friend. You really, really do.” You give a nervous smile at your new professor when he calls you out for talking, with his wise smirk, you believe Peter Parker may have some competition.

—----------------

At fifteen past four, you got the message you’ve been waiting on, you bit your lip and opened the text, the contact saved as Harvey G.

‘You’re coming to the party tonight, right?’

‘Just for you 😊’

‘I love when you lie to me, it really gets me going.’

‘You know what gets me going? Fucking you on a twin XL.’

‘Dirty talk, that’s my girl.’

‘Wear something pretty for me and I’ll let you call me daddy tonight.’

‘You wish.’

You’d be wearing something pretty tonight, but not for Harvey. You were dressing up for the pure intention of catching Peter Parker’s eye. It was a personal mission to turn you from a backup plan to number one, worse comes to worse, you’d pull out the best friend card and use Ethan as a pawn. Harvey was a set hookup, you didn’t need to impress him with anything. You’ve never even slept in the same bed, and you didn’t care to. He looked like a snorer.

Sending a quick text to Ally to try and figure out the game plan, she responds with a very general answer, so you text Prince to come over and entertain you. He responded with a salute emoji, ‘prepare to be entertained.’

—--------

You and Prince are tilting your head at the same angle, you’re trying to make sense of what you were seeing but the proportions weren’t adding up. It didn’t seem natural, you block out the exaggerated moaning and follow in tilting your head the opposite way when the camera switches positions.

“I mean… that couldn’t… feel good… right?” Prince is looking for your opinion, you nod with him. “Yeah, I don’t… this can’t be real, right?” It’s like you've been heard, the camera angle changes and you’re staring at a man’s asshole as he piledrives into his female co-star. Prince gasps with you, “oh my god! How is she doing that?!” You whistle low, “drugs, Prince. Lots and lots of drugs.” Suddenly, Prince becomes interested.

“You know, sometimes I forget how much the female body amazes me.” You narrow your eyes, “call me a female again, I dare you.” Prince’s voice squeaks, “no thank you, you powerful, beautiful woman.” You pat his green hair, “good boy.”

For once, Ally entered into your dorm without Matt following behind. Prince clapped and told her he was proud she could walk inside all by herself. Her response was, “aw, you’re so cute when you’re lonely.” Prince pretended to bite her.

“So,” Ally opened her tote bag and pulled out a paper bag filled with Sammi’s Sandwiches. “Wanna eat and get ready?” Prince starts bowing, you follow suit.

“All hail queen Ally.”

“Damn right, bitches.”

The second you took your last bite Ally had you in front of your closet mirror while she stood behind you with two shirts on hangers, alternating to hold up each one over your torso.

“Ugh, I wanted you in the green but I think the black would be better.” “Yeah, I think if I hang around Prince it’ll be too much green, ya know?” Prince coughed and breadcrumbs spewed. “I’m sorry, you think you’ll be hanging out with me instead of Harvey?”

“I can’t exactly go in there, grab him, and get out, can I?” Your roommate nods while she fixes your hair, “you absolutely can, I do it with Matty all the time.” You roll your eyes at her in the mirror, “that’s different, you guys are like… common law married at this point.”

Prince is sitting sideways in a chair letting the blood rush to his head, he sits up slightly and slips out a possibility while you adjust your bra strap. “What are the chances Harvey gets so plastered tonight you won’t hookup?”

The elastic snaps on your shoulder when you give him a cold glare, “don’t even try to be funny.” He grins wickedly and presses his thumbs to his middle fingers, “not funny, babe. Manifesting.”

Ally has to hold you back when you lurch at him.

—--------------

You’re lucky you have Prince to keep Ally occupied, you’re a little too lost in your thoughts as you all walk towards frat row. Keeping your arms to your chest you conserve heat, it’s starting to get chilly at night. The first thing you wanted to do was get Trent out of the way, then you’d chat with Ethan while you scope the scene for Peter. Oh god, Harvey. You had too many men to entertain tonight, it would be near impossible to keep them from bumping into each other outside your revolving door.

You just had to play calm and make a game plan. Number one would be Trent, number two would be Harvey, so you could make plans for after the party, number three would be Ethan and certainly not least, you’d be keeping an eye on Peter Parker. Your palms feel clammy thinking about your secret with Trent, you push each plan back by one. The first step would be getting some liquid courage. Brought back to life by gentle bantering, your opinion is needed.

“I could totally ice Matt out, right?”

“Bro, I have two hundred on it right now.”

“You think I can’t live without him?” You butt in, “no, but you can’t let him think you’re mad at him. Even when you’re fighting you tell him you’re not mad at him. It’s gross.” Prince nods while Ally gasps in offense, “I’d love to see it, I think he’d have a mental breakdown.”

“Is it so terrible of me that I don’t like making my boyfriend sad?”

You hang an arm around Ally’s neck and pull her in, “it makes you a better girlfriend than I could ever be.” She giggles and hangs onto you, “I think frat boys like that, maybe it’s time you start sleeping with a member and not alumni.”

You’re not hiding anything out of spite, but because you felt like you wanted to figure it out on your own. And she’s a little pushy, if you were to spill on Peter before ready she’d try everything possible to get Matt involved. Sometimes Ally’s wingmanning ruined potential hookups, and by sometimes, it’s every time. “Ha. Good one.”

Prince steps in to hand his arm around your neck, you three of you stumbling in unison. “Don’t worry, friend. You’ll have your pick on the ski trip.” You flashed a smile, following a crowd of bodies across the crosswalk.

Letting each other go when you hit the first frat house you fix your shirt. Ally was right, it looked really good on you.

There were at least forty kids waiting to get in, only two members on door duty. Following freshmen up the steps you smile at a brother, Prince pays his entrance fee while you hold hands with Ally.

You take a deep breath, and release it when you step in the house.

Welcome to the start of the year.

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #mcu!peter x reader #frat!peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x you #my writing

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lostdreamr-blog1 · 17 days

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Pinky Promise 2

Pinky Promise Part 1

Part 3

Summary: Part 2 of Pinky Promise. The two of you become close friends, but one night shows Jake just how much you trust him.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Hi friends! It’s been a hot minute since I have put something out but I promise you I have a good reason for it! I just had a baby and haven’t had time to sit down and write. But hoping to put out more content here soon! Thank you all for reading!!! - C

It was an ungodly time in the morning when you heard the doorbell ring. It took more will power than you would like to admit to even sit up in bed, head pounding with the slight elevation change. You wiped the sleep and last night’s makeup from your eyes, most likely smearing streaks of it across your face. And you sat there contemplating all of your life’s choices up to this point.

The doorbell seemed to yell at you, telling you that whoever was on the other side must have been impatient. A quick glance at the clock said it was 8:30 and you had to take a deep breath to not hurt the person who was making you get out of bed.

A few stumbling steps later, you opened the door to find a delivery guy with a bag of food. While you took the bag from him, the confusion was pretty clear. Even the guy who was turning to walk away could see it. “There is a note on the receipt.” And then he was gone.

Between the hangover from hell and very few hours of sleep you got; you were slow moving to get back inside. To anyone walking by you must have looked like you lost your mind with the amount of time you spent looking at the bag. But by some miracle, your legs took you back to bed while your mind was still reeling.

The bag didn’t have any sort of logo or name on it, but it did smell good. You opened it up and reached for the receipt first, trying to find answers.

The tacos I promised you. – Jake

A laugh came out as you put the piece of paper aside, making your way to the things that were making your mouth water. Breakfast tacos greeted you and suddenly being woken up was not a bad thing anymore.

You went to reach for your phone to thank the blond-haired pilot but stopped when you remembered exactly why you now had tacos. Your drunken self called your brothers most hated teammate last night because you didn’t want to get your brother involved. You winced at the thought of him finding out and pulled your hand back.

You dreaded looking at your phone, knowing Bradley most likely had blown it up after last night. So, instead of being a responsible adult who answered for her own actions, you turned your phone over. What you couldn’t see meant it wasn’t there. Denial was one of your favorite places to live in.

Jake seemed friendly enough, offering help whenever you needed. He also wasn’t quick to judge you like others. It wasn’t lost on you that Bradley had most likely told his teammates how “reckless and wild” you were, already painting a bad picture of you. But Jake didn’t make you feel that way. He actually made you think that you might be able to call him a friend, even if he didn’t see eye to eye with your brother.

Jake heard a knock at his door and tried to think who would be here at this time of night. The confusion only grew when he opened his door to find you walking past him and making yourself home on his couch.

“Ever think about how dumb Tuesdays are? Like the only thing they are good for is tacos.” Jake had to blink a few times for his mind to catch up to what was happening.

“I can’t say that I have. Did that burning question drive you all the way over here?” He closed the door and walked to the adjacent couch to sit. He had a feeling this was going to be a long visit.

“I had to thank you in person for the tacos since I’m ignoring my phone.” Jake’s eyebrows rose that comment and pushed you on it. He watched as you played with your hair, giving him a hint at one of your tells. You were either uncomfortable or nervous about your answer and he locked that piece of information away for later.

“Look, my brother can be a bit much sometimes and I didn’t have the energy to deal with him this morning. Then this morning quickly turned into this evening, and I figured it’s a lost cause now.”

Jake bit back a smile, “So, you thought ignoring him was your best option?” He thought back to his conversation with said pilot at work this morning and was surprised when he saw a new side of him.

Bradley at first apologized for “having to deal with you.” But once he realized he didn’t mind making sure you got home safe, he thanked him and said it won’t happened again. Jake brought up his sisters and how he would want to make sure that if they needed help, someone would be there regardless of how good of terms he might or might not be with that person. This seemed to clear the air between them a bit, making work a little easier.

“I know it isn’t exactly my smartest idea, but you can only be called irresponsible so many times before you lose it. Was he mad at you this morning?” Jake shook his head, “Thankful for getting you home. That’s all.” He watched you nod your head but could see you didn’t fully believe him.

“You pinky promise I didn’t make things worse for you at work?” Jake laughed at yet another pinky promise.

“Yes, I pinky promise. Have you eaten dinner? I have leftovers I was about to heat up.” And with that offering, it opened the door to a new friendship.

Jake often found himself answering the door to you, texting you at random hours of the day, and always making sure you made it home safely. The two of you quickly became good friends, making the random house visits become a normal thing. He started to look forward to you coming over, knowing that your carefree way of life would bring him some sort of interesting story.

Until tonight.

The knock on his door was a little later than normal. Typically, you made your way over right after he got home from work. But tonight, it was hours past that time. Jake opened the door expecting you to waltz right in, but instead you were stood rooted in place with your head down. Red flags instantly went up as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

“Hey darlin’. How about we head inside?” His heart dropped when you lifted your head up. A bruise was starting to form around your right eye and by the way you were holding yourself, he knew it was from something bad.

A million different scenarios went through his mind, each worse than the last. But until he could get to the bottom of it, he needed to make sure you were okay. The ever so confident girl he had come to adore was nowhere in sight as he fully took you in. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, almost as if you were trying to be as small as possible. Despite the swelling from the bruise, he could see redness around your eyes from crying.

He moved to the side as you slowly made your way in allowing him to close the door and give you his full attention. “Sweetheart, what happened?” You flinched as he moved his hand towards you, making him stop his motion and put his hand up.

“You know I would never hurt you. I just need to look at that eye.” He waited for you to give some sort of okay before he tried again.

“I had this date and he wanted to go back to his place. All I did was tell him no.” Your words came out as a near whisper, but Jake heard you loud and clear. He had to take a second to calm himself down to not scare you any further.

“Can I give you a hug?” His words surprised you. The two of you were never one to show affection but for him to ask permission before doing it solidified why you chose to come here. A small head nod and he pulled you into his chest.

“I am so sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to feel that kind of fear.” And that simple gesture pushed you to your breaking point. The tears started all over again, but this time you felt a sense of comfort as you let them out. He continued to hold you for a few minutes and when he let go, you could see just how much this had affected him too.

He couldn’t help but think about his sisters and what he would do if they were ever in this situation. To have someone hit them simply because they said no made him sick to his stomach. Which is why he knew he needed to let your brother know.

“Sit down on the couch and I’ll grab you some ice to help with the swelling.” You did as he said, and Jake walked into the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen vegetables for you. While he was in there, he sent a quick text to Bradley telling him he needed to come over now. Jake knew he would do it based on the zero interactions they have outside of work. Bradley would know something was wrong.

He walked back out and saw you curled up on the couch, wiping a few tears from your face. When he picked you up from that bar a few weeks ago, he never imagined the two of you would be here. But he was glad to be that person for you.

“Put this on your eye for fifteen minutes and it should help numb the pain a bit.” You took the bag from him and did as he said. “Also, your brother should be on his way.”

The look of panic crossed your face, and he knew there was a chance you didn’t want your brother to know.

“I know you don’t want him to find out, but this is something your brother would want to know. I promise you that.” He watched as you played with the ends of your hair.

“He is going to try and say it’s my fault.” Jake knew the two of you had a bumpy relationship with just how different your lives were. But he didn’t for one second think that your brother would ever blame you for this.

“Let me get one thing straight. This is by no way your fault. A man should never lay his hands on a woman no matter what the reasoning. You said no and he needed to respect that. End of story.”

A knock on the door made you jump, and Jake waited a second before he went to open it. He gave Bradley zero warning on what he was walking into, and you weren’t in the best headspace to begin with. He knew there was a chance this wasn’t going to go well, but your brother couldn’t be left out of this.

Jake opened the door and said, “Try and keep calm.” Bradley walked in and took one look at you and pushed Jake up the wall. “The fuck did you do, Bagman?” Jake knew the initial reaction was going to be rough, but he was hoping he would still be able to fly tomorrow.

You stood up and quickly tried to push your brother away. While he didn’t budge, you at least got his attention. “He didn’t do this. I didn’t know where to go so I came here.”

Bradley looked back to Jake for confirmation and then backed off. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked between the two of you. “Someone needs to start explaining. Now.”

Jake looked over to you to see what you wanted to do. He had no issue telling Bradshaw the whole story, but he didn’t want to step on your toes. You didn’t tell him the two of you were friends for a reason, and he wasn’t sure how much you wanted to explain.

You took a deep breath and tried your best to answer, “Ever since the night Jake gave me a ride home, we’ve been hanging out. He’s been a good friend, one that I probably don’t deserve, but someone I know I can go to. I had a date tonight and it clearly didn’t go well. I was going to go home but I knew it wasn’t the best idea. Here was the next best place.”

Bradley shook his head, “Why here? Why not to my house? You know you can come to me for anything.”

You looked down as you said, “You always say how reckless I am, and I didn’t want this to be another huge disappointment for you.”

You heard Bradley curse under his breath but couldn’t find the courage to look up. Which is why you let out a yelp when he put a hand on your shoulder. “I know I’m hard on you but that’s because you’re the only family I have left. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me for things. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. But this? This is something I need to know, and I would never say it’s your fault. Something like this shouldn’t have happened and you best believe I am going to kill the guy who did this to you.”

You gave him a small nod and he turned your head to get a better look at your eye. “This is going to be a nasty bruise. Did he get you anywhere else?”

Jake watched in curiosity when your eyes seemed to light up some. “No. I stopped him before he could do anything else. Didn’t hurt as bad this time either.” The two pilots were confused until Jake looked down at your hand to see some slight bruising.

“Looks like you got him good.” Bradley caught on but then asked what you meant by “this time.”

You looked over to Jake for help explaining. “Killer over here has a nasty right hook. Said you taught her how to throw it.”

Bradley slowly nodded his head and almost looked excited when he asked if you used it on Jake. “You wish.” He chuckled some and then looked over to his teammate. “Thanks for looking out for her. Clearly you are doing a better job at it than me.”

Jake smirked, “Just one more thing to add to the list that I’m better at.”

A/N: Thoughts? Still deciding if I am going to add another one of these to the mini-series. Thank you so so much for reading!! - C

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #topgun maverick #topgun #chelsea writes

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silverware-drawer · 6 months

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🟥 felppps-6391 🔁 cellbo

🔎 cellbo Seguir

why is my castle full of smoke

🟥 felppps-6391

'-'

🔎 cellbo Seguir

DID FOOLISH HOTBOX THE FUCKING BLOOD ROOM

🟥 felppps-6391

'-'

4 notas

🪑 what-the-muffin 🔁 kocwillrock

🦈 kocwillrock Seguir

guys whart happens if you set cocaine on fire you have one minute adn then im trying it

🪑what-the-muffin

0_0 . . .whart

💣 endcrystalenjoyer Seguir

whart

🪺 philza Seguir

whart

🔰 etoyless Seguir

whart

🦈 kocwillrock Seguir

THATS CRAZY ITS ALMOST LIKE NOBODY ASKED

#heeheeheeheehee #prank tag

26 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 its-nice-to-miku

🐦 its-nice-to-miku Seguir

culeros

🥵 peterparkoier

YESSSSS MAMOSSSSS

403 notas

🪷 quackitieeee 🔁 elmar1an4

🌻 elmar1an4 Seguir

es lunes 😏 alguien quiere ser mi novio 😜

🦠 backflipo-numero-uno Seguir

IT'S TUESDAY YOU CHEATING BITCH FUCK YOU

🌻 elmar1an4 Seguir

yes ok I am waiting in the bedroom

🦠 backflipo-numero-uno Seguir

okay give me a couple of minutes

🪷 quackitieeee

what the fuck is wrong with you guys

5 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 cellbo

🔪 cell-bites

você vai se arrepender disso nunca esquecerei o quão saborosa sua perna era

furryfury999-deactivated38192947

Umm. . . .what the fuck ??

garbage-meister-deactivated92929947

why the hell are people in the notes acting like this is real lmfao did you idiots forget that people LIE on the INTERNET

horsey-of-coursey-deactivated848291083

okay, but has nobody noticed how this lines up perfectly with that insane alcatraz breakout that was in the news last month, only this was posted first??

garbage-meister-deactivated92929947

i'm dying y'all are so fucking dumb LMFAO

🔎 cellbo Seguir

STOP TAGGING ME THIS POST IS A THOUSAND YEARS OLD I DONT EVEN KNOW WHO THIS IS

🥵 peterparkoier

ENIGMA DO MEDO 😱

899.113 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 its-nice-to-miku

🪺 philza Seguir

Get you a man with two hundred and twenty seven alt accounts that are all in constant danger of being banned for hacking

💣 tnt-cannoff-1748 Seguir

God damn, hit on by Philza Minecraft himself, never thought I'd see the day 😳

🪺 philza Seguir

Lmao nah mate but I am hitting your gym. Give me ten minutes

💣 big-daddy-bigger-breakfast Seguir

Hell yeah

589 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 4ever-420

🕓 4ever-420 🇧🇷☑️ Seguir

PHILZA

--VERIFIED PRESIDENTIAL POST--

🕓 4ever-420 🇧🇷☑️ Seguir

CARALHO BAGHERA DONT REBLOG THAT IT WAS A DRAFT I DIDNT MEAN IT TO POST

--VERIFIED PRESIDENTIAL POST--

🐥 baghz-quacks Seguir

I don't know what youre talking about forever, it was a verified presidential post ?

🪺 philza Seguir

lmfao

🕓 4ever-420 🇧🇷☑️ Seguir

HOW DO I DELETE OTHER PEOPLES POSTS

--VERIFIED PRESIDENTIAL POST--

🕓 4ever-420 🇧🇷☑️ Seguir

FUCKING CUCURUCHO GET RID OF THIS BANNER RIGHT NOW

--VERIFIED PRESIDENTIAL POST--

🥵 peterparkoier

nem fodendo 👀

3,066 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 missa-not-missing

👑 chay-chay-chefs-blade Seguir

extra pics of the cake process because lulah told me to post them o7

Link

💀 missa-not-missing Seguir

CHAYANNE YOU'RE SO TALENTED

🪺 philza Seguir

Missa :D you finally back in wifi range?

💀 missa-not-missing Seguir

YES I AM COMING HOME RIGHT NOW

Thirty minutes!!

🪺 philza Seguir

. . .you good mate? It's been hours

💀 missa-not-missing Seguir

PHILZA HELP I FELL IN A HOLE

699 notas

🚇 tubbohell 🔁 philza

🔰 etoyless Seguir

L+ratio well played gf

🪑 what-the-muffin

@kocwillrock

🦈 kocwillrock Seguir

SHUT UP GO GET KIDNAPPED

🚇 tubbohell

am I missing something since when does etoiles have a girlfriend???

342 notas

🪑 what-the-muffin 🔁 what-the-muffin

🦈 kocwillrock Seguir

HOW IS HE GOOD AT EVERYTHING ITS FUDGING BEANBAG TOSS

🪑 what-the-muffin

hey foolish what does étoiles use when it rains

🪑 what-the-muffin

. . .a cucumbrella 0_0

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🕓 4ever-420 ☑️🇧🇷 Seguir

Hi bad :D

-- VERIFIED PRESIDENTIAL POST --

🪑 what-the-muffin

Hi forever :D

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

🪑 what-the-muffin

foolish

666 notas

🥵 peterparkoier 🔁 ⚠️ pactriggerwarning

🦄 ayyyyypierre Seguir

If you want free GEGGS come to the GEGG factory under the statue of GEGG

🎼 wilbur-soot-official ☑️

i fucking hate gegg

🔎 cellbo Seguir

???

🔎 cellbo Seguir

this is the only thing he's ever posted?!??!??????

⚽ doctor-ovo Seguir

kkkkkkkkkkkkkk

🪪 elquackity ☑️

TU IN INFERNO PECCATORES ET IMBECILES SERA TU TUAM TUAM MISERERE CAELUM IGNEM PLUET ET SANGUIS TUUM IGNIS SIT NON ESSE TE VENIAT ARBITRIO TEMPESTATEM VENIAT ET NUNQUAM TE STULTI OMNES LUDIBRIBUS TUA RETUSUS OVIS ET RETUSUS FERRARIA ERIS OMNES MORTUUM ESSE ACTUTUM USQUAM VALE ET EGO NON REQUIRO

🧪 aquimicaehloka Seguir

what the hell

#qsmp #long post #also i stole a bunch of the usernames from @flunkett and @chewydolls dont want to forget to credit them #i dont even know if this is funny but these posts make me very happy for some reason #and they are very fun to make.#silverware lore #cuesumblur #tw unreality #silverware's cuesumblur

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khristie16 · 6 months

Text

Blindfolded Desires

about: playing truth or dare on a college party with the least favourite person in the entire universe can lead to many things. warnings: alcohol, games, kissing, charles is mean, reader hates his guts Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

You were sitting comfortably on a red sofa in one of those rooms filled with smoke which was very common for the college background you find yourself in for the past year. You started your degree last year and you still somehow didn’t get use to the so called college lifestyle. But so be it, now you’re sitting there with your classmates on a typical Tuesday night, because all of you don’t seem to care about your studies, just you, but secretly, because everything out there spreads fast as a lighting.

You have to be grateful to that to one of your female friends who is not so much a friend anymore who just cannot shut up about anything. And she thought telling everyone you’ve slept only with virgins had to be something incredible and fun to talk about. Like no shame, it was never intentional in the first place. But what was definitely intentional were those words your least favourite person had to brag about.

He called you a mama shelter. Anytime he saw you somewhere he chuckled at your persona and you didn’t even have to hear him! Not a sound and you knew what was going on in his head. You hated his guts before but thanks to your friend, she made him a bigger enemy than he was before.

So there you were, on a stupid party with stupid people but your best friend Nicole. You’ve known her the whole life since you were little kids and you two were so similar finding the same interests in life and pursuing the same study major was not a surprise to anyone. You were at this party just because of her and all of those people around were friends of her boyfriend Jack. Jack himself was a nice guy but his friends were a group of douche bags. Including the guy, Charles. The mama shelter guy. You have to say you really must love your bestie friend when you sacrifice your mental health for her. She would feel bad to know only Jack here but no one else.

She was the same private person as you were. But Natalie sitting across the room was the person who loved gossips and in the begging of your studies here you thought she will be a good friend, and you used to overshare a lot, that’s why everyone know about your damn sexual life.

You reseated on the couch to get more comfortable as the game called truth or dare started. Seriously, no more dumb game you could play but hey, this is college and don’t forget there are douche bags around you who initially came up with this idea.

As you snorted out a little bit more than intended you catch a glimpse of stare from Charles. He is devilishly smiling at you and you just furrow your eyebrows at him being disgusted by even looking at him. As you look away, you see other guy taking the bottle and spinning it around. You’ve heard giggles of Natalie as she was all so thrilled about this game. You swear to god if you only knew what a gossip girl she was you’ve never declared even your name in front of her. Voluntarily.

The bottle spin to Charles. You were starting to totally zoom out, absolutely unbothered by what he will choose and how it will continue. But someone above you had different plans about your evening apparently since the guy called your name.

“Hey you scared?” You annoyingly looked at the guy with a look of not getting whatever he was implying. He laughed out loud and looked back at Charles.

“Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.” The guy looked at you again and stared straight to your eyes.

“Let YN unbutton your shirt only with teeth.”

You widened your eyes at him and if you had some food in your mouth, it’d definitely got stuck in your throat. “WHAT!?”

“Oh come on, it’s not like no one there knows about your skills.” The laugher of Natalie filled the room once again and you suddenly knew.

That b…… you should have never talked to her! Oh my god, what else you told her? You should keep the recorder on from now anytime you are near her so you can track about everything you said in front of her.

“Unless you were lying and it’s not true.” You gazed back on the guy and a little smile spread across your face.

“I don’t have to prove anything, plus it’s not my dare. It’s Charles’s.” You arrogantly laid back on the sofa with a wicked smile and facing everyone with a smirk on your face.

“You’re right, but unless you want me to do whatever it takes to get you there because I have to accomplish the dare, we’re gonna be here for a long long time. It’s your choice, mama shelter.”

You pointed your eyes at him and was in disbelief of what he was saying. It’s totally clear all of this it’s just to make fun of you. You hated it. You did. But to chicken out was something you hated more. You were a competitor, you always wanted to win. And this game was hard to win with the actual circumstances. But you don’t back off. And entertaining the idea of fighting with Charles for god’s know for how long, you decided to cooperate.

You used your hands to help you getting up from the couch and taking slow steps towards Charles that was sitting in one of the chair on the opposite side of where you were sitting. He was smirking, having this arrogant look on his face. But you played it cool. Even though you were burning fire inside. You’ve had an experience with this, a true one, you were good at unbuttoning anything with your teeth only. And you are smiling already for showing them how it’s done.

You got on your knees and laid your hands on his knees that were wide open for you. Charles liked the view, a little too much for his own sake but he didn’t know yet by this second. You on the upper hand got to the business without any distraction. You didn’t even bother looking at him, for you it was the shirt that was having your full attention, not him. And he was getting slightly irritated by the fact you didn’t even give him a glance.

In no time you were done with your hands still on his knees. As he got bare in front of everyone with every button opened, you put all of your weight on his knees and got up.

“You know, you’re old enough to let mama help you with buttons.” You span on your heel and walked to your place.

“Well I’ve heard you like helping out small boys.” You were losing it. You wanted to turn around and bong his head to the wall next to him. You were getting so sick of him and Nicole knew it. She started worrying about you as you saw it in her eyes. You sat down and looked annoyed more than ever.

“Well that was interesting to look at.” You started zooming out again to get out of this place and get somewhere else with your thoughts. You’ve heard someone calling you from afar until Nicole shook your shoulder with a worrying voice. “YN?”

You looked into her eyes and asked her confused what’s going on. “You’re next.”

You were supposed to pick truth or dare but neither of this was in your liking. But you knew you have to play, so you decided to change it a little bit.

“I will do dare if I will choose the dare.” The other guy laughed at you and looked serious afterward if you are actually joking or not. You weren’t joking.

“You cannot do it. You will choose something dumb.” You raised your eyebrows at Natalie and imagined how you smash her head with a frying pan.

“Oh I believe it’s not dumb. I will blindfold myself and I have to guess who kissed me.”

There was a silence in the room for some time but purely because everyone was taken away by your idea. You always appeared you will hurt anyone just by looking at you, none has to be said about if someone would actually try to talk to you. And now you were making a suggestion about kissing. It didn’t take that long when guys started to make all of those cringe sounds of approval and thrill. You rolled your eyes at this and took your jumper next to you to blindfold yourself. Either this or anything else that would be picked by these idiots. You had to remind yourself once again before fully committing to that.

As the darkness displayed, you waited for anyone to come and kiss you. The first person was okay. Nothing amazing. The second one was the worst kiss you’ve ever head. It was like kissing a fish. The third one was rather absent, you didn’t even feel if he was doing something. The fourth one was rather different. It was intimate and sweet. But the last one, that was intense. It was hard, it was passionate but oh so laid back. You wish you could come closer and hold the person’s neck to prolong the kiss. You even think you made a silent moan to the person’s mouth. But before you could get your hopes up, it was done and you were ready to take off the blindfold.

You blinked fast with your eyes to adapt to the lights in the room and as you were scanning the room, you couldn’t find any difference in people’s posture. You so hoped you will catch it and it will help you to tell who was who, but it’s like everybody predicted your move and everything seemed the same.

You stopped looking around and started guessing. It showed up that you didn’t get anyone right. You weren’t surprised but you really wanted to know who was the last one. As you sat back down on your place, Nicole looked at you apologetically. You looked at her back with the evidence of question for her and she just smiled shyly. As if she was trying to tell you someone stole your favourite book and it cannot ever be found again.

You decided to let it go for now because clearly she wasn’t planning to talk about it in front of everyone. You just hear Natalie giggle and you found out she was looking at you in the same moment, you wondering what’s going on again. You pushed yourself off the couch and went to the back of the room to get a refill.

As you were thinking about how Nicole could pay you back big this time with this disastrous evening, you felt a warm presence next by your side.

“Enjoying yourself?” It was Charles. Minding his business refilling his own cup.

“Yeah. Sure.” You responded dryly. This was the last straw you could take, dealing with him even more as if the previous thing wasn’t enough. Someone really hate you up there. “Didn’t seem like that to me.” He turned his body to you and looked at you with deadly stare. You searched for an answer in his eyes but couldn’t find any. He made a step toward you so he could lower his lips to the side of your left ear.

“By the way, being this desperate for a kiss is not sexy.” The vision in front of you started blurring and you felt the blood getting to your ears. All you’ve heard was a quiet chuckle in your ear and footsteps disappearing from your space.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you

297 notes · View notes

f1daydreamers · 2 months

Text

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 [𝐋𝐍𝟒] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

gif credits: @princemick

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Summary: To say you weren't the biggest fan of Lando Norris was an understatement, but you also happened to underestimate just how willing the man was to prove to you that he'd changed.

Warnings: swearing, Reader being a tough cookie, angst, this is mainly a Reader fic but there will be more Lando interactions soon I promise!

A/N: Wow, the support on the first two fics has been UNREAL. For you guys whose tags aren't working, please have this fixed if you can!

Word Count: 1.8k words (7 mins reading time avg)

…

“You’re kidding. What’d he say?” Emilia asked.

“Nothing of importance. Just wish I never saw him really.” You mumbled but she heard you anyway, tutting through the speakerphone.

“Don’t tell me you’re still at his throat, Y/N.” She said, tossing a grape into her mouth.

“What do you mean?” You sat up, fiddling with a loose string on your pyjamas.

“I mean..” She paused to swallow her food before continuing, “school was years ago. He was young and dumb.”

You ripped the string out of your trousers, “you’re starting to sound like my mom.”

You never understood Emilia’s approach to being completely unbothered. From school, despite being one of the many targets of him and his friends, she never let it get to her. You admired that, but her deep philosophical shit really didn’t resonate well with you, despite how much she tried to force it.

“It’s true. As long as he’s not like that now then find it in your heart to forget that it even happened. For your own sake,” she explained.

You knew what she meant by that; you'd told your old friend all about Google’s new partnership with McLaren, from which she assumed that last night's encounter wouldn't be the last.

Should any conversations similar to last night’s get any worse, she feared you could land yourself in a horrible position.

You pursed your lips before asking, “what if he hasn’t changed, and he’s still a total dick?”

You could practically hear Emilia’s eyes roll. She scoffed, “then, by all means, give him shit about it.”

“Trust me, I intend to do that anyway.” You said behind a smile.

A moment's silence passed before another question cropped up in your mind. "How can you forgive 'em so easily, Em?"

"It was years ago. I don’t really care anymore.. I mean I never really did.” She breathily chuckled.

While you wanted better for her, for her to get that apology she deserved, you were glad that her not caring was the sole outcome of all those horrible years at school.

She chuckled, adding, "and besides, you did give them a run for their money that day in English class."

"They had it coming." You retorted and your friend laughed, "I don't disagree."

You thought back to that day, it was a random Tuesday before school finished up for the summer. You'd gotten caught up with your friends in the canteen that it was a little too late when you realised the bell had already rung minutes ago.

You'd rushed to class, books crammed in the corner of your elbow, your teacher had let you off considering you didn't get late often but she didn't excuse you for what was coming next.

“Hey, they were the ones throwing little pieces of paper at the back of your head.” You argued.

“So you called them douchey, well-off, insolent, and incompetent assholes? With the added touch of telling them to shove their daddy’s own paper up their plumped-up asses.” She repeated word-for-word and you chuckled nervously.

“Jeez, how often do you reminisce about that day?”

"Oh come on, it was so good. Seeing their faces go white then slowly red, ugh. Priceless." She chuckled and you did too.

Nothing sweeter than shutting up wealthy assholes who think they're better than everyone else. That should be the tagline to my autobiography, you thought.

...

“Look at this! Ooh and that one!” You walked into your office floor, chuckling when you saw Allegra and James comfortably perched on your desk within your office cubicle.

Your friend eagerly thrusting her phone in the direction of your other friend, forcing him to relive the highlights of the collaboration event.

“Ally, I was there. I’ve seen these all.” You smiled, watching James slowly lower her hand and Allegra scoffed.

“Whatever. Buzzkill.” James shot her a look before pushing himself up to greet you. A hug that lasted a few seconds before you plopped into your desk chair.

As you turned, a vase of vibrant pink, white and red peonies greeted your gaze, momentarily stealing the smile from your face.

"What's this?" you murmured, your eyes narrowing as you peered over the vase. There was no note in sight.

"Flowers," Allegra chimed in nonchalantly, rising to her feet to get a closer look.

"No shit. But who sent them, and when?" Your tone betrayed a hint of bewilderment. You'd been at your desk just 24 hours ago, and there was no trace of these flowers then.

James chimed in with a teasing grin, "Maybe a secret admirer." The suggestion didn't sit well with you, and you frowned. Searching around the vase, you hoped for anything that might offer a clue, but your efforts yielded nothing.

"A secret admirer who knows your favorite flowers are peonies? Sounds like a stalker," Allegra remarked casually.

Her words didn't immediately register but when they did, you realised she was right. Apart from her and a handful of friends, nobody else really knew about your flower preferences.

"That's true," you admitted quietly.

Gradually, your friends became engrossed in their own conversation, and your silence contributed nothing. They wandered away somewhat absentmindedly, their voices fading eventually.

Allegra's remark had been echoing in your mind for the past half-hour as you attempted to focus on work. The persistent question remained: did the sender of the flowers just make an extremely lucky guess?

You messaged Emilia to ask if she was behind the flowers, especially after the phone call you had last night. Her response came quickly,

Nope lol have you got a crush I don’t know about?

No one else came to mind, but you couldn't dwell on it any longer. Your attention was quickly drawn to a new message from Nick at the top of your computer screen.

You let out a groan, swiftly shutting off your computer with the press of a button. You pushed away from your desk, stood up, and rounded the cubicle.

"Feel like I'm seeing you a lot nowadays," you joked, casually strolling into Nick's office as he waved you in.

"Want me to say you're my favorite?" He bantered, leaning back in his chair.

"You complimenting me? When's the world ending, I know you know." You pointed playfully, feigning accusation and giving the room a quick scan.

"I wanted to extend a compliment actually. You were praised for your work in Woking." He continued, motioning for you to take a seat.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, your thoughts abruptly returning to the peonies that had been left on your desk.

You ease yourself into the chair opposite him, "I mean, I walked in this morning to find flowers on my desk."

"Huh?" Nick's eyes only slightly widen, genuine curiosity lighting up his features.

"Flowers. I thought they-" You trailed off.

"No, I didn't know about any flowers being sent over." He leans his elbows on the desk. "Are they from McLaren?"

You contemplated, it'd make sense if they were but James and Allegra were with you too, while you were busy having to calm yourself from racing thoughts, they were actually getting work done.

Your fingers lightly tapped on the armrest. "I don't know, actually. There wasn't a note or a card."

"Hmm." Nick's gaze is thoughtful as he processes the new piece of information.

"McLaren complimented me?" Your voice conveys a mix of surprise and skepticism.

He smirks, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Yes, well, I was as surprised as you are. But they were happy with you, throughout the entire night."

"Wow, uh, that's nice. Little weird," you commented, a puzzled expression crossing your face.

"Sorry?" Nick inquired, looking at you from where he was previously squinting at his computer.

"Weird. I mean, I wasn't the only Google employee there." You added, thinking back to that night.

Nick nodded, understanding your point. He picked up his fountain pen from the ink pot, the nib gliding gracefully across some of the checks scattered on his well-organised desk.

"You must have a few friends over there," he remarked, despite it being a joke, you take the time to process his words much like how you had with Allegra's earlier about the peonies.

Your lips slightly parted, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something more to the situation.

In your mental replay of the night at Woking, faces and conversations flickered like an erratic film reel.

The air in the room seemed to thicken and a subtle tension settled in your shoulders as you sifted through the fragments of conversations at the MTC, finding no satisfactory revelations.

Your mind raced, eventually connecting the dots. There was really only one person who emerged.

The only one you just happened to know from school there that night. The only one who could've learnt one way or the other back then that your preferred flowers were peonies. The same person throwing out an indirect compliment, extending it to your supervisor as a calculated taunt.

Just because he can.

The unsettling realisation tightened your chest, your body reacting with an involuntary stiffness.

Your inner thoughts churned with a mix of emotions – confusion, frustration, and anger. The idea that he was deliberately weaving his way into your present unnerved you.

Last night, Emilia's words had momentarily sparked a debate in your mind about the possibility of a change in him, but this just proved he was still an asshole.

Once an asshole, always an asshole.

"Y/N, you with me?" You unclenched your jaw at Nick's voice.

Your attention snapped back, and you blinked. "Yes, sorry."

There was a hint of concern in his eyes, "it's okay. I was only saying that you should send an email over, thanking them for the praise. It'll strengthen the connection."

He runs a hand through his hair, you respond rather robotically. "What connection?"

Nick's gaze met yours, unwavering, "for your future." You hum in response, a forced expression of appreciation on your face as you hoist yourself out of the chair.

Without wasting a moment, you briskly walked back to your desk. The vibrant peonies, once a source of confusion and surprise, now carried an unwelcome weight.

As you reached your cubicle, you saw them first and immediately snatched the bouquet from the vase, turning to find the tall bin just around the bend.

Anger coursed through you, a steady undercurrent as you unceremoniously dumped the flowers into the trash. The soft thud as they hit the bottom brought a momentary sense of satisfaction.

Leaning against your desk, you took a deep breath, attempting to quell the rising storm of emotions within. Your eyes narrowed, gaze fixed on the discarded flowers.

It wasn't just about an unexpected gift – it was about the calculated move, the intentional intrusion into your space.

"Fuck you, Norris." You whisper, a tinge of sadness enveloping your chest.

...

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be tagged in the next parts!

Taglist: @landosgirlxoxo @sltwins @dutifullyannoyingfox @moonayu @mrsmaybank13 @queenofmanydreams @chonkybonky @urmotheris @ananyasr1bughead @alliwantisadonut @daisysnhl @writingworlds @leclercsluv @tylerstacobell @booksandflowrs @kissesandmartinis @starssfall @5starl1ght @phantomxoxo @iwouldkillformarvel @chezmardybum @danywonderland @gh1239 @aphroditeisamilf @amalialeclerc @catnesseverdine92 @whentheautumnleavesfall @maplesyrupsainz @black-fireproofs @anniesimpson2128

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Text

You Belong With Me - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: modern!au. Eddie is dating Chrissy, but she’s making him miserable. What would it take for him to notice that he’d be better off with you? Based on the Taylor Swift song.

Note: Oh, so many thoughts about this one. I’ve never been a big fan of song fics, but this song just screamed this dynamic at me and wouldn’t let me rest until I wrote it. And it physically hurt me to write Chrissy as the “bad guy” because I just adore her and Grace so much. But for the fic, it had to be done. Lastly, I literally stayed up all night to write this so I apologize if my sleeplessness caused any more errors than usual.

Warnings: modern!au, language, sex jokes, mention of gun, I think that’s it?

Words: 8.7k

“But that’s not what I meant. No, no, I- Babe, it was a joke. It wasn’t about you! You know I don’t like basketball game- Yes, I’m coming. Of course. I’m sorry, okay? Like I said, it was a joke- Okay. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you there. Okay. Bye.”

Eddie tosses his phone down on your bed and rubs his hands over his face. You sit up near your pillows, wincing through the whole phone call. Eddie getting frustrated like this was becoming far too common for your liking.

“You okay, Eds?” He isn’t, but you’re not sure if he’ll want to talk about it or not.

“Fine,” he says. He has to know you don’t believe him, but he also knows you won’t push him. He climbs on your bed, leaning against your footboard.

“I made a stupid joke,” he says. “I said something about watching a basketball game being like watching a goldfish swim around in its bowl. You’re just looking back and forth at the same thing the whole time!”

It’s not the appropriate time, but you can’t help but laugh. “It’s true, though.”

“Thank you!” he says. “It was a dumb joke but somehow Chrissy took that as me saying I hated going to see her cheer. Is it my favorite thing to do? No. But I do it because she’s my girlfriend.”

You nod your head at him, not sure what you could say. There are a million things you want to say. Break up with her. She’s not good enough for you. I’ve been in love with you for years, you doofus. But none of that would help him. It’d only stress him out even more, which was the last thing you wanted to do.

“I swear, the only saving grace at those God-awful games is that you’re there with me. If I didn’t have you to make snide comments with, I don’t think I’d be able to stomach it,” he says.

It should make you feel better, you think. But in reality, it just makes you want to smack him on the back of the head and say, “then what does that tell you, dumbass? Spending time with me is better!”

“We’re going to the game tonight, I’m assuming,” you say. It’s a Tuesday so there wasn’t a Hellfire meeting, which was the only acceptable reason, according to Chrissy, that Eddie could miss a game. Even those, she wasn’t thrilled he skipped games for.

“Don’t have much of a choice,” Eddie mumbles, picking at his rings. He looks up and meets your eyes. “I mean, you do, though. You don’t have to come with me.”

And make him do this alone? You couldn’t. Even if you had to sit there and pretend not to see Eddie watching Chrissy, or just pretend to not see Chrissy in general. It was never a choice for you if there was an opportunity to spend it with Eddie. You’d stand blindly by his side, supporting him however you could.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” you tell him.

He smiles and tosses one of your stuffed bears at you. “Like I’d ever want to get rid of you.”

Looking into his eyes suddenly makes you feel like you could cry, so you jump off your bed and head over to your Bluetooth speaker.

“What do you say? Some Ozzy?” you ask.

Eddie groans and drops his head forward. “God, I wish I could stay and listen. I’ve got two deals before the game tonight, though. I’ve gotta head out.”

You pout and press play on the machine anyway. Ozzy Osborne was not what was queued up next, however. The acoustics of a Taylor Swift song start to play into the space of your bedroom.

Eddie groans again, louder this time. You stop the music and start to skip through the shuffled playlist.

“I am so tired of pop songs. It seems like that’s all that’s playing in my car lately and it’s driving me up the wall. I can listen to it sometimes, but God forbid we listen to any of my music as I’m driving around with her.”

Your pout grows as you keep your back to Eddie. You never know what to say to him when he complains about Chrissy. He wanted to date her so badly that you didn’t think anything could hurt you worse. But seeing the way she treats him? That beat all.

“I thought you didn’t even like Taylor Swift,” Eddie says. It just shows how much Chrissy must be making him listen to pop if he recognized the song by the opening chords.

“I like some of her songs,” you say, turning to face him. “Sometimes it feels like she took a page out of my diary and wrote a song about it. I love Metallica and Black Sabbath dearly, but that is something they just don’t do.”

Eddie stands up off your bed and grabs his leather jacket. He smirks at you as he slips it on. “So, what you’re saying is, Taylor Swift understands you?”

You roll your eyes at him and plop back down on your bed. “Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I’m saying. The pretty, millionaire singer, that’s dated all of the hottest guys in Hollywood totally gets me.”

“You sing,” Eddie says with a shrug. “In fact, I wish you did it more. How many times have I begged you to come sing with the band again?”

“It was once, I was drunk, and I’m still grateful that I don’t remember all of it,” you say.

“You were good. I’m not just saying that as your best friend, I’m saying it as a musician. You never sing around me. Why are you embarrassed to?”

The teddy bear in your lap is easier to look at than Eddie. “M’not embarrassed.”

“Oh yeah? Then why not in front of me at least? You’ve seen me puking my guts out and have taken care of me after a hangover, but you’re too shy to sing in front of me?”

“To be fair,” you say, eyes now finding Eddie’s, “you have also seen me puke and taken care of me when I had a hangover.”

“Yet I still sing in front of you.” When you don’t say anything, Eddie starts to get annoyed. “You know, I told Dustin that I wished you’d sing more, and he seemed confused because apparently you sing all the time around him.”

“That’s different!”

“How?” Now he sounds like he’s starting to get mad and it’s the last thing you want. Chrissy had already worked him up and you didn’t want to make it worse.

“You know, Dustin is always singing songs from movies and stuff. You’ve seen him and I singing Suddenly, Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors together. See? I’m not embarrassed in front of you.”

“Yeah, but you were also putting on that squeaky voice the woman has in the movie.” He sighs and takes a few steps towards your bed. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just like it when you sing.”

You look up at him and give him a small smile. “I like when you sing, too.”

“We’ll go to a karaoke club soon then,” he says with a smirk, and you’re not sure if he’s teasing or not. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll come by in a few hours to pick you up?”

“Mhmm.” He heads out of your room, but you call out for him before he can fully leave. “Eddie! Can you hit play for me? I think I got the right song up now.”

Eddie clicks the button on your Bluetooth speaker and Crazy Train starts playing, Ozzy’s maniacal laugh haunting your bedroom.

“Much better,” Eddie says over his shoulder as he walks out of your room.

After dinner with your parents, you head back up to your room. Your mom and dad assume it’s to finish your homework, but you’d finished that a little after Eddie left. Instead, you pull up your metal-only playlist and let it run on shuffle. The synthetic voice comes over your Bluetooth speaker.

“I am iron man.”

This song instantly has you reaching to turn the volume up. Black Sabbath’s iconic sound rings through your room and you jump on top of your bed. You head-bang to the opening notes, feeling more pumped up by the second. You spin around, scooping up your hairbrush from your nightstand to use as a makeshift microphone.

“Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind? Can he walk at all? Or if he moves, will he fall?”

You fall to your knees on the mattress, openly air-guitaring as you sing along.

“Is he alive or dead? Has he thoughts within his head? We'll just pass him there, why should we even care?”

There’s a new voice joining in with yours this time. You slowly turn around and move the hair out of the way that’s covering your face from all your whipping it about. Eddie leans against your doorframe, arms crossed against his chest, and the biggest smile on his face that you think you’ve ever seen. You hadn’t realized how long it’s been since you’ve seen him smile like that. Months? At least.

“Enjoy the show?” you ask as you hop down from your bed.

“Very much,” he says. “Don’t stop on my account.”

You give him a playful glare as you walk over to your mirror. You use your hairbrush/pseudo microphone to get your hair out of your face and looking somewhat presentable.

“How’d the deals go?” you ask as you grab your sneakers.

“Fine. Two usuals so it was quick and painless,” he tells you as you lace up your converse.

Unlike this basketball game will be, you think to yourself.

“Save any for us to use tomorrow?”

“Well, duh. But we’ll have to go somewhere to smoke it. Wayne’s got an old army buddy coming over for dinner,” Eddie says.

“The park?” You take a look at yourself in the mirror and adjust your Iron Maiden shirt. Steve once told you that you should wear school colors to a game. You told him to find you a band t-shirt that had the God-awful orange and green of the basketball uniforms and you would.

“Park sounds good to me,” Eddie says. He pulls on your arm to yank you away from the mirror. “You look perfect, let’s go.”

Your face flushes as you follow Eddie out of your room. Both of you wave to your parents in the living room before heading outside. Climbing into Eddie’s van is second nature at this point, and you make yourself comfortable by putting your sneakered feet up on the dashboard.

Eddie starts the car and Metallica begins blaring through the air. You drum on your knees as Eddie makes the short drive to Hawkins High. Hopefully, Lucas will play tonight. Since he’s been getting better, the coach has been putting him in more. It was great to see his confidence grow.

The parking lot in front of the school is almost as crowded as it would be if school was in session. Eddie slips the van into one of the few empty spots and you both get out. The murmuring from the gym could be heard out in the parking lot. Was this an important game? Was our team doing well this year? You had no idea. You came to most, if not all, of the games, but you hardly paid attention to any of it.

The sounds of the crowd talking loudly to one another, the squeaking of sneakers on the shiny floor, and the cacophony of instruments tuning up in the band section of the bleachers smack you in the face as Eddie opens the gym door for you. You nod to him in thanks before slipping inside. He follows behind you and you wave to Nancy who is on the sidelines with other students from the school paper.

Robin waves and gives you a big smile when you walk past the school band. You blow her a kiss, and she pretends to catch it. In the middle of the bleachers there’s a small gap where you and Eddie could fit. When you get closer to it, you can see it’s empty because Max, Dustin, and Mike have their feet there; their attempt at saving the seat for you guys.

“Finally,” Dustin says. “Thought someone was gonna sit on my feet any second.”

“You better move them quick then,” Eddie says. He moves to sit on the boy’s feet and all three of them bring their legs back to themselves.

From where you’re sitting, the cheerleaders are straight ahead. They’re in your direct line of vision and you get the feeling that your neck is going to be sore tomorrow because you’ll probably spend most of the game looking and talking to Max behind you.

Eddie raises his hand to wave, and you leave your eyes in your lap. You don’t need to see her pretty smile or her bright eyes. Her hair that was never out of place. You reach up to smooth over your own hair self-consciously.

“Stop,” Max says. She’s leaned in towards you so she can whisper in your ear. “Your hair is fine. You look great. And you know he’s going to spend more time talking to you than paying attention to her during the game anyway.”

With a sigh, you turn your head to give her a small smile. She reaches forward and squeezes your shoulder. Your girls knew how you felt about Eddie. With Nancy and Max, they said they had known before you even told them. The pair of them thought it was incredibly obvious to anyone who was paying attention, while Robin was shocked when you told her.

A whistle blows, signaling the start of the game. Your eyes scan the white jerseys moving around the court and on the sidelines. Number eight is standing on the side, hands on his hips and swaying from side to side. From the back, Lucas looks tense and nervous. Maybe this was a big game.

The cheerleaders began with their cheers, the sounds of pompoms crashing against each other catching on the air. Eddie watched the first few cheers before he turned to you.

“I’m already over it,” he says.

“Let me know when Lucas gets out on the court and I’ll care,” you answer him.

“Hey,” Dustin says, popping his head in between yours and Eddie’s. “You hear about the contest down at the bar?”

“What contest?” Eddie asks.

“What bar?” you ask.

Mike breaks his eyes away from the court to join the conversation. “The karaoke bar over by the grocery store.”

“They’re having like, a talent show - karaoke version - or something. I think you win $500,” Dustin says.

“When is it?” Eddie asks. He loved singing in front of people, and if he could win some money in the process, why not?

“Friday, you losers,” Max says, looking at Dustin and Mike. “You seriously didn’t notice that it’s the same night as Hellfire? The end of your campaign?”

“Shit,” Dustin says.

“Damn, that would’ve been fun,” Eddie says. “That’s a pretty big place, too. Nice sized audience.”

“Get up during halftime and sing to this crowd then,” you joke to Eddie.

“Oh God, don’t put that in his head. He’ll do it,” Mike says.

“These people wouldn’t know good music if I blared it in their ears,” Eddie says as he looks around the bleachers. “Ah, look. Harrington with another date. Who’s that one?”

Both you and Max crane your necks to try and see who Steve is with. He’s a few rows higher than you and closer to the band.

“Heidi?” Max asks.

“I don’t think so. Steve said he wouldn’t go on another date with her. Plus, Heidi’s hair is lighter than that,” you say.

Steve catches you and Max looking at him and mimes putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger. Max rolls her eyes while you let out a laugh.

“Poor Steve,” you say. “All these girls just aren’t right for him.”

“I keep telling him that he’s gotta figure out what he wants but he never listens to me,” Dustin says.

“Does he listen to anyone?” Max asks.

“Robin, maybe,” you add.

“Has he ever asked you on a date?” Eddie asks you. You furrow your brow in confusion. Why was he asking this? Just curiosity?

“No,” you say. “We’re friends.”

Eddie shrugs. “Sometimes that’s the best thing to be before becoming something more.”

You take a deep breath and feel your stomach clenching.

“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” you say. You stand up and Max stands behind you.

“I’ll come with you,” she says.

The two of you walk out of the gymnasium and into the quiet school hallway. Max stays quiet until she confirms there aren’t any other girls in the bathroom.

“You’re entering that contest,” Max says.

“What?”

“Find a song that expresses what you’re feeling and let it out on stage. You’re good. Good enough to win. And you know the guys won’t see because they’ll be playing DND.”

“I don’t know, Max.” You lean against the sinks and Max leans next to you.

“Oh, come on. You’re telling me a song about wanting someone who you can’t have comes on the radio while you’re driving, and you don’t angry belt it out?” Max asks.

“Yeah, alone in my car,” you say.

“And it’s cathartic, right?”

“I guess.” You shrug and avoid Max’s eyes because you know what’s coming next.

“If that feels good, imagine getting all those emotions and feelings out on stage,” Max says. “I already signed you up.”

You sigh and rub your hands over your face. It makes sense and you hate it. Music has always been your way of expressing yourself. Maybe doing this would help you release some of your anger and sadness.

“Fine,” you finally concede.

“Yes!” Max says. “We’ll bring Nancy and Robin and it’ll be great.”

“No one tells the guys about this, though,” you say. “I don’t need any of the headache that would come with that.”

“My lips are sealed,” Max says.

After the game, in which Lucas made the game winning shot, friends and family mingled with the players and cheerleaders. You would’ve gone with the others to talk to Lucas if Eddie hadn’t all but steered you in the direction of Chrissy. His hand was on the small of your back and you’d let him lead you anywhere like that. Even here.

“Eddie!” Chrissy calls. She runs forward and wraps her arms around his neck. He wraps his around her small waist and lifts her up, her short skirt riding up her ass. You divert your eyes from the pair of them, scanning the rest of the crowd for your friends.

“You were great,” Eddie is telling her. “And you looked so hot.”

Your fists clench and your fingernails are digging hard enough into your palms to draw blood.

“Like you even watched me,” Chrissy says with a laugh. “I saw you talking the whole time.”

Eddie frowns and his brows pinch together. “I did watch you.”

“Okay,” she says as she gives him a pat on the arm. It’s the condescending tone that’s dripping from her voice that makes you speak up.

“He pointed out to us in the third period when you did the new cheer. The one you came up with when you became cheer captain,” you say. You bite back from adding, “So, see? He pays attention to you even though you’re horrible to him and he deserves far better than you could ever be.”

Chrissy turns, looking at you as if she just noticed you were there. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi,” you respond, trying to keep the venom in your voice to a minimum.

She turns back to Eddie and wraps her arms around his neck. “I’m hungry. Can we go get pizza?”

Eddie glances at you out of the corner of his eye before looking back at her. “Uh, I hadn’t planned on that. I was going to give y/n a ride home.”

Chrissy pouts and it doesn’t suit her. Her lip goes too far out and her eyes scrunch in a way that looks more painful than sad.

“But I hardly got to see you today. Can’t she get a ride with someone else?” Chrissy asks.

“Don’t talk about her as if she’s not here,” Eddie says, pulling back from her a little. Her pout turns to a glare as she looks at him.

“It’s fine,” you say, taking a few steps back. You didn’t want to make this worse for Eddie and you certainly didn’t want to be stuck in the van with the two of them.

“But…” Eddie trails off.

“It’s okay,” you say, though your heart is telling you the opposite. “Go get pizza.”

He frowns deeper but nods his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here.” You give him a small smile before disappearing into the crowd.

Hopefully, Steve didn’t drive his date here and she had her own way home. You look through the mass of bodies for the familiar head of brown hair but come up empty. You don’t see a baseball cap with curls spilling out of it or a redhead either.

With a sigh, you walk to the doors. You head out into the dark evening, the stars and moon shining bright down on Hawkins this night. Most of the parking lot has cleared out and you don’t see a car you recognize other than the big brown van that used to bring you so much comfort.

Home is only six miles away, so you decide to walk. It’s a chilly night and you wrap your arms around yourself, hands rubbing up and down your arms that are bare in your t-shirt. You’ve made the walk before and you estimate it will take you about two hours. Thankful that you wore your most comfortable sneakers, you head up the hill and off school property.

The streets are quiet and dark, which unsettles you. Weird things happen in Hawkins all the time and you’d wager this is how a lot of them started. After walking two miles, a total of three cars have passed you by. You were almost more afraid when you saw the cars coming towards you rather than walking alone in the darkness.

You hear a car coming from behind and you take a step closer to the tree line and out of the road since the driver probably can’t see you.

“Y/n?”

You look back and Robin is hanging out the passenger window of Steve’s car.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Walking home,” you say as if it was a normal occurrence. Maybe if you act as if this wasn’t that big of a deal, they’d believe it.

“In the dark? Alone? At night? Are you insane?” Robin says. The driver door opens and Steve steps out. He walks over to you and looks at you in concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

“Where’s Eddie?”

“He, um. Well, Chrissy wanted pizza. So, I said I’d get another ride, but I couldn’t find one. And home isn’t too far.” You shrug, not meeting his eyes.

Steve rests his hands on his hips and sighs. His typical mom stance.

“Come on. I’ll drive you home. You’re going to have to pile in though.” He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, wrapping an arm around you and guiding you to the car. “Jesus, you’re freezing. You know, you could’ve called me. Or Robin or Max or Dustin or Mike.”

Steve opens the back door, and the three younger faces look back at you. Max scoots over until she’s sitting on Dustin’s lap.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Dustin says. He raises his arms in the air so he isn’t touching Max at all.

You slide in and Steve closes the door behind you. Dustin refuses to look at anyone, cheeks flushing. You can’t help the small smile on your face as you tug Max over to sit on your lap instead. She settles easily enough and rests her head against the window.

The car smells like fried food and you find out why when Mike holds a bag out in front of you.

“Burger? Fries?” he offers. “Or…” he rummages around in bags between his feet. “Onion rings.”

“Toss one,” you tell him. He smiles as you open your mouth and tries to throw the fried onion inside. Surprisingly, he makes it, which makes the four of you in the back cheer.

Robin gets dropped off first, her living the closest to school. She grabs her band hat and trumpet out of the trunk and waves before she disappears inside her house. Dustin takes the opportunity to jump into the front seat. Technically, Max should’ve been the next one dropped off, but Steve kept driving straight past the trailer park. Max didn’t say a word, knowing why Steve was avoiding the neighborhood for now.

“Why didn’t Nancy drive you home?” you ask Mike as Steve pulls into the Wheeler driveway.

“Because she’s a priss and has to stay late to work on the stupid paper,” he says.

“Hey!” Both you and Steve yell at the same time as he scrambles out of the car.

“You try living with her,” he says before waving his hand in a goodbye.

Your house is next, and you sag in relief when it comes into view. You hadn’t been expecting to see it for at least another hour at the rate you were walking before.

“Thanks for the ride, Steve,” you say. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime that idiot leaves you high and dry just call me,” Steve says, looking at you in the rear-view mirror. You smile to yourself, thinking this must be what it’s like to have a big brother. You now understand why the kids all gravitated towards him.

“Thanks,” you repeat as you get out of the car. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you say to Max and Dustin. They wave as you head up to your door.

School the next day is weird. People are excited because the basketball team won; so, the halls were buzzing with that energy. But most people were tired as well, having stayed up later than usual to come to the game. It all gives you a nice cover for how you’re feeling. You feel sluggish and irritated. Though you can’t put your finger on the exact reason why, you knew the people it could be blamed on.

Eddie leans up against the locker next to yours between second and third period as you’re exchanging your books out.

“You didn’t text me last night,” he says.

“What?” you ask, not looking at him.

“When you got home. You didn’t text me to let me know you got home okay.”

“You didn’t ask me to,” you point out.

He frowns. “I didn’t think I had to. It’s just kind of something we do.”

“Well, sorry, I guess.” You close your locker and turn to him. “Was there something else?”

“Are you mad at me?” he asks. His big puppy dog eyes are shining and it’s truly your damn kryptonite.

You take a deep breath. “No.” You don’t know if that’s really true or not, though.

“You’re sure?” Eddie raises his eyebrows at you.

“I’m sure,” you lie.

“Are we still on for the park later?” he asks, hope glimmering in his eyes.

“Of course,” you say, eager to see him relax.

“Perfect. I’ve got everything in my backpack already to go.” The weed, he means. You can’t think of a better day to get high than today.

School simultaneously drags on and ends too quickly. Chrissy has cheer practice, so you don’t have to deal with her while you walk to Eddie’s van. Once inside, he cranks Sweet Child O’ Mine because he knows it’s one of your favorites. When you don’t hum along or even tap your foot along to the beat, he knows something is up.

He parks the van across the street from the park and grabs his backpack.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod in affirmation and hop out. The two of you walk down the street to the crosswalk. Normally you’d just jay-walk to cross the street, but this intersection was notorious for pedestrian injuries. When you get your signal that it’s okay to cross, Eddie trips and you hear the ripping of material. You look down and see he’s ripped his own jeans by stepping on the hem of them while walking. The tear that was at his knee has now tripled in size and he could easily stick his whole leg through it. You giggle to yourself, and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief at the sound.

The two of you find your usual bench at the park and claim it. It’s hidden by a copse of trees so it’s easier to hide your illicit activities, but still allows you a good view of the park.

Eddie pulls out the two joints he’d rolled and lights one before handing it to you. Though you were used to the sickeningly bitter odor, it didn’t mean you liked it. You wrinkle your nose before raising the bud to your lips. You inhale, letting the burn curl down your throat and into your lungs. You were pretty good at not coughing by now. The first few times you’d ended up in total tears because of the intense hacking.

Eddie takes a hit of his own joint and rests his head against the back of the bench, blowing smoke straight up towards the sky. He closes his eyes and you take the time to admire him. He’d forgone the denim vest today and just settled on his leather jacket over his hellfire shirt. Hints of stubble were starting to appear on his chin and his lips were a little chapped. His long, dark eyelashes kiss his cheeks as his eyes move under his closed lids. He’s so beautiful it physically aches you.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to smile at you. It’s a real Eddie smile and it warms your heart. It’s so rare these days but it’s so bright it could rival the moon at night.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks.

“The moon,” you say.

Eddie chuckles and takes another hit. “Oh yeah?” He releases the smoke. “What about it?”

“It’s so bright. But you only notice the brightness at night.” You came up with it off the top of your head, but it sounded good to you. You raise your joint to your mouth for another puff.

“Like some people I guess,” Eddie says. He doesn’t sound like he’s finished talking so you wait. “Sometimes you don’t see how amazing some people are until everything else around you dims, but they don’t. They’re still there bright and shining.”

It could be that he’s having a profound thought about his life, or the pot is kicking in, so you can’t be sure.

“I want to go to the moon,” you say. Eddie laughs and you can tell both of you are feeling the effects now.

His laugh is infectious and causes you to start laughing as well. You curl in on yourself, abdominal muscles starting to cramp, and you slide to the side to lay across Eddie’s lap.

“Eds?” you ask, eyes staring up at the clouds above.

“Mm?”

“I miss you.”

He frowns down at you and pokes your forehead with his ringed index finger.

“I’m right here, silly head.”

“I know,” you say.

“I like when we talk,” Eddie says. His head is moving all around, taking in all the sights in the park around you. There are a few squirrels scampering up the tree closest to you. Birds sing in the distance and the laughter of kids comes from the playground a few hundred feet away.

“I like it too,” you say. “It’s so easy to talk to you.”

“Always has been. Since we met.”

“You’re my favorite person,” you tell him.

He grins and drops his head down to look at you. “More than Timothée Chalamet?”

“Mhmm,” you hum in confirmation.

“Wow,” Eddie says with a laugh. “That’s saying something.”

The two of you decide to lay in the grass as you let the pot work through your system. Eddie won’t be able to drive for a while anyway, so you take advantage of the nice day.

“I had a weird dream last night,” Eddie says.

“Yeah? Tell me.”

“I was playing at The Hideout. But when I looked down, I was playing the wrong guitar. It was a nice guitar. It was gold and smooth and sounded beautiful. But it wasn’t my guitar. I put the gold guitar down and tried to find mine. I started freaking out because I thought I lost it. I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it.”

“Did you find it?” you ask.

“I did. But some guy was playing it and it made me so mad.”

“What guy?” You let your heavy eyes droop closed.

“M’not sure. He didn’t look familiar. Could’ve been anyone, I guess. But he was playing my guitar and I wanted it back. But he said I was too late. And it made me really really sad.”

You frown and reach over to take Eddie’s hand in yours. “It’s okay, Eddie. No one is going to take your guitar away. Why would it want to leave you?”

The high lasted a few hours and by the time Eddie got you home for dinner, the munchie effect was still going strong. You devoured the lasagna your mom put down in front of you. The bloodshot look had faded from your eyes, so you were just hoping your parents thought you were extra hungry today for some reason.

You should’ve gone to sleep hours ago. It would’ve been easy; you always slept better on days when you got high with Eddie. But you still hadn’t picked a song to sing at the karaoke competition. Your head was in the middle of your bed, and you rested your legs up against the wall over your headboard. You scroll and scroll through playlists, trying to find a song that expresses what you’ve been feeling.

The sound of brakes squeaking makes you move your legs down and sit up on your bed. Your phone tells you that it’s 3:17am. You walk over to your window and see Eddie walking around the side of your house. You frown at him, and he notices you up in your window. You point towards the back door and Eddie nods.

Eddie would sometimes come by in the middle of the night, but he’d usually text first. You creep down the stairs as quietly as you can, avoiding any creaks. Your cat picks his head up from where he’s sleeping on the top of the couch to see what you’re up to. He decides he doesn’t care though and adjusts himself into a new comfortable position to fall back asleep.

Luckily, your dad had fixed it so the back door didn’t stick anymore when you tried to open it. It glides open silently and Eddie steps inside.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” you whisper to him.

He nods but he won’t meet your eyes. You frown and take his hand in yours. As you walk back past your cat, he picks his head up again and deems Eddie worthy of his affection. Eddie scratches his head two times before following you up the stairs.

You pull him into your room and quietly close the door behind you.

“What’s up?” you ask him.

He shrugs and sits on the edge of your bed. “Didn’t want to be alone.”

The sheets are messy, and you crawl on top of them, making yourself comfortable against the mountain of pillows against your headboard. Eddie glances back before leaning backwards so his head ends up in your lap. You start to play with his hair. You haven’t done this in a while, and it warms your heart. His eyes drift closed, and you think he’s fallen asleep until he quietly kicks his boots off so he can pull his legs up on the bed as well.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

He opens his eyes and stares at your ceiling. “I feel confused.”

“About what?”

“That’s the thing. Everything.”

You frown and trace your pinky finger along one of his curls. “Elaborate?”

“I don’t know how,” he says. “Feel like everything is upside down. I feel like I want things to go back to normal, but I don’t know what’s changed to make me think things aren’t normal. Am I making sense?”

“Sort of,” you say.

His eyes begin to water, and it breaks your heart. You’d give anything to be able to fix what’s wrong, but he doesn’t seem to know.

“Where do I belong?” he asks.

“Here,” you say without hesitation. “Here with me and your uncle and Dustin and all your friends. Here with your favorite guitar and your band and your loud as all hell van.”

That makes him chuckle and your heart feels ten pounds lighter. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again.

“Did you miss something on that list? Or someone?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say carefully. “Did I?”

He licks over his lips before answering. “I don’t believe you did. I think that was a pretty complete list. Doesn’t need anyone else.”

“No?” you ask.

He opens his eyes and shakes his head. “She reamed me out for an hour before because I hadn’t bought prom tickets yet.”

“I didn’t even know they were on sale,” you say. You’re trying to keep your voice calm for him, but it’s proving difficult.

“Neither did I,” he says. “But she goes on and on about how she already bought her dress and the, and I’m quoting here, ‘the prettiest high heels in the world.’”

“Shouldn’t she have waited until, you know…at least until you asked?”

“Right?” he huffs out. He runs his hands over his face, and you start to play with the small curls along his forehead. “I’ve got to end it.”

“I think so,” you say in a small voice.

He tilts his head up so he can look at you. “Friday, yeah? Tomorrow I’ve got a test, so I don’t want the stress added to that. I need to pass this class.”

“Biology again?” you ask. “I thought you were doing better.”

“I am, but I won’t if I bomb this test.”

“You should probably get some sleep then.” You almost said “go home and get some sleep” but that’s not what you really want. He nods and goes to sit up, but you catch his arm.

“Here?” he asks.

You shrug and slide yourself under the covers. “Why not? I don’t have cooties. I got the shot.”

He smiles and shrugs out of his leather jacket before sliding in the bed next to you. Your heart races as his head lays on the pillow next to yours, noses almost touching.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

“Goodnight.”

On Friday, you only get to see Eddie between second and third period at your locker. His plan is to have lunch with Chrissy outside and break up with her then. Your paths don’t cross after lunch, and he has Hellfire and you’re meeting with the girls to get ready for the karaoke contest right after school. Your stomach will be in knots until you find out how it went.

Nancy dusts your eyelids with silver eyeshadow as you sit on your bed. Max and Robin go through your closet, deciding what you should wear tonight.

“No, that might be see-through under the lights.”

“What about this?”

“It clashes with the silver eyeshadow.”

“Any texts from Eddie?” Nancy asks quietly as she cleans up the edges.

“No,” you breathe out with a sigh. “But he’s never on his phone during Hellfire. I think that would be blasphemous in there.”

Nancy hums her agreement.

“We’ve got one!” Robin announces.

You open your eyes to see Max holding a royal blue dress that accentuates your curves and feels silky smooth against your skin. You wrinkle your nose at them.

“It doesn’t go,” you say.

“With what?” Max asks.

“My song!”

“Oh, you’re right,” Robin says.

“Fine, fine,” Max says. She puts the dress back in the closet and starts to dig through your drawers.

“I hope there are no sex toys in here,” Robin says as she joins Max.

You roll your eyes as Nancy touches up your eyeliner.

“Jeans,” Nancy says as she works. “She should wear jeans and a t-shirt.”

“That’s what she wears every day,” Robin says.

“Exactly,” you and Nancy say at the same time.

“Okay, fine,” Robin acquiesces. “But what one?”

“Iron Maiden?” Max asks as she picks one out of the drawer. “There’s also Guns ‘n Roses, Black Sabbath, Metallica. Geez, any from this century?”

“Corroded Coffin,” you say. Max looks at you and grins.

“Where is it?” she asks.

“Top drawer.”

Robin and Max pick out the best jeans to go with your favorite tee. Nancy tells you to get dressed before she fixes your hair. She doesn’t do much, just spray a little product in it and tussle it up.

“Perfect,” she says.

You pace back and forth backstage. You’re not exactly nervous. Not about the singing, anyway. About letting your feelings channel through you in this way. It was a vulnerability you’d never shared before. Even if the audience just thought you’d picked this song because you liked it, you and your friends knew the truth.

The girl on stage now is singing Madonna and you take deep breaths to settle yourself.

“Hey.”

Nancy jumps at the voice in her ear. She turns her head to see Eddie sliding into the seat next to her. Her eyes widen comically, and Eddie raises an eyebrow at her.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here either, but do I look like a ghost or something?”

“What are you doing here?” Robin demands from the other side of Nancy. Someone in the crowd shushes her, but she doesn’t care. “You’re supposed to be at Hellfire.”

Eddie shrugs with a devious smile and Dustin plops down in the seat on the other side of him.

“His stupid campaign wiped us out in the first half hour,” Dustin says. “We remembered this was happening, so we figured we’d catch the last half.”

Max’s leg bounces nervously on Robin’s other side and Eddie notices the motion.

“What’s wrong, Red?” She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head at him. “Wait, where’s y/n?” he asks.

Robin leans in to whisper in Max’s ear. “Do we have time to warn her?”

“No,” Max whispers back. “She’s up next.”

“Maybe she won’t see with all the lights,” Nancy leans over to add.

Robin groans and drops her head in her hands.

The girl wraps up singing Papa Don’t Preach and the audience claps politely. The manager steps out on the stage and reads from a clipboard.

“Next up we have y/n y/l/n.”

Eddie’s jaw drops before a huge smile forms on his face. He was going to get to hear you sing again. Finally.

You step onstage and Eddie’s taken aback. He didn’t expect an elaborate outfit or anything of the sort but seeing you in a Corroded Coffin shirt took him by surprise.

The music begins and the notes tickle his brain. He knows this song. He knows that he knows it because of Chrissy, even if he can’t place it. Why would you choose this song?

You grip the mic tightly in your grip and lift it to your mouth.

“You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset. She's going off about something that you said, ‘cause she doesn't get your humor like I do.”

It’s Taylor Swift, Eddie recognizes. This confuses him even further. What was it you said about her music?

“I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night. I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like, and she'll never know your story like I do.”

You feel your confidence picking up as you keep going. Looking at the audience doesn’t seem like a good idea, so you keep your eyes vague as they move across the open space in front of you. It feels good to have a microphone in your hand.

“But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts. She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time.”

Eddie’s stunned to his seat. His jaw hangs open as he recalls what you said. It was like Taylor Swift took a page out of your diary and wrote a song about it. There was no mistaking what and who this song was about. Even for someone who knew how dense he could be at times.

“If you could see that I'm the one who understands you. Been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

The grin that spreads across your face is freeing. You never knew being vulnerable could feel this good. You’re sharing your heart with the people in the audience and most of them have no idea.

“Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans, I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be. Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself, ‘Hey, isn't this easy?’ And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town, I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down. You say you're fine, I know you better than that. Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?”

All three of your friends in the audience are caught between watching you work the stage like you were born for it and looking over at Eddie to gauge his reaction. Nancy notices the way his hands are gripping the armrests and she doesn’t know what that means.

“She wears high heels, I wear sneakers. She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time. If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me.”

You catch a flash of red hair in the audience, and it widens your smile. So that’s where your friends are out there. You’ll have to get a good look at them when singing the next part.

“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor, all this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

There’s a small instrumental break and you take the opportunity to lower the mic and look at the row your friends are in. But your eyes catch a very familiar pair of brown ones and your veins ice over and your stomach bottoms out. Eddie’s staring at you with those eyes and they’re enough to make you melt on the spot without all the lights on you adding to the heat. You try not to let it break your stride on stage. Spinning on the sole of your shoe, you face the back of the stage to compose your face and take a deep breath. You continue. The show must go on.

“Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night. I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry. And I know your favorite songs, and you tell me 'bout your dreams. Think I know where you belong, think I know it's with me.”

You realize it’s all out in the open now. The Band-Aid has been ripped off and you might as well finish the song off strong. It’s easy to find Eddie’s eyes in the audience, wide as they are, and you keep eye contact as you sing the next part.

“Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? Been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me.”

Eddie isn’t fully sure he’s awake. This has to be a dream, right? He’d pinch himself if he were able to move a muscle. Your eyes boring into his and baring your soul to him. There’s pressure on the back of his eyes and a fist clenching around his heart. How long have you been hurting over this?

“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor all this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

Adrenaline is coursing through your body and you’re already worried about what’s going to happen when it wears off. You wish the song wouldn’t end so you don’t have to leave the stage and deal with whatever comes after.

“You belong with me. Have you ever thought just maybe, you belong with me? You belong with me.”

The cheers and applause are white noise to you. There’s only one other person in the room and he hasn’t moved a muscle; not even on his shocked face.

You give the crowd the best smile you can before exiting the stage. You drop the mic on a table and find the most isolated corner of the backstage that you can. Resting your head against the wall and taking big, deep breaths is all you can focus on.

Hands land gently on your shoulders, but you still jump. You spin around quickly and come face to face with the one person you no longer knew how to talk to. His big brown eyes are wide and glassy. He’s never resembled a baby cow more than he does in this moment. His mouth keeps opening and closing, as if he wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. That makes two of you.

“I didn’t know,” he finally says.

You close your eyes and nod. “I know. I didn’t want you to.”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s not, um. That’s not what I meant.” He squeezes his eyes closed and licks over his lips. “I didn’t know. But she did.”

Your brow pinches in confusion and you shake your head. “I don’t understand.” The last thing you thought would be happening right now is Eddie trying to explain something to you.

“When I broke up with Chrissy.” Eddie sees the wince on your face at her name and it breaks his heart. How had he never noticed before? “She knew I loved you. She said she knew from day one. That’s why I didn’t text you right after I did it. I needed to think. About how true it was.”

“And?” The word barely squeaks out of you. Every nerve in your body was on edge, awaiting his response.

“After that?” Eddie gestures to the stage. “How could I have any doubt?”

His hand cups the back of your head gently and brings your mouth against his. His other hand snakes around your waist and your arms automatically come up to encircle his neck. It’s a gentle kiss, but it gets across all the emotions floating between the two of you. Relief, joy, love, excitement, fear, to name a few.

Eddie’s lips dance across yours again and again. You pull him closer, and he gets the hint, his tongue coming out to glide across your bottom lip. You happily part your lips for him.

“Y/n y/l/n….y/n y/l/n…y/n y/l/n?”

Eddie finally realizes your name is being called and pulls back from your lips. You whine and go to chase them, but Eddie chuckles and points towards the stage.

“Babe, I think you won,” he says.

You grin, never taking your eyes off him. You cup his jaw and lean in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Oh, I know I did.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic

1K notes · View notes

golbrocklovely · 6 months

Text

mr. fantastic // sam golbach

A/N: first off, sorry this is getting posted so late. had to make some last minute revisions. so, for this one and colby's fic later on, i need to give some slight context. basically in both of these, they are AUs were snc are corrupt ppl, or have a bit of a corruption aspect to their personalities. some of these fics are/can be seen as dark, so i totally get if you don't feel comfortable reading it. just give a good look over of the trigger warnings and see how you feel. if you do enjoy it, please lmk what you think. also this fic is very vaguely based off the boys, the tv show/comic book series. sam is a smidge (and i mean a very tiny amount) reminiscent of homelander. do with that information as you will. happy haunting!

prompt: everyone around you loves sam, or as he's commonly known as - mr. fantastic. but you can see right through his facade. but when he starts winning over your friends, you know something is going on, and it's not good. || AU!superhero!sam x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT, enemies-to-lovers, you used to have a crush on sam in high school and now he's a superhero, superhero!sam, corrupt!sam, twist ending, i would say a hint of dubcon (but y/n never says no or stop, but just to be on the safe side i'm letting yall know), manipulation via powers and magical handcuffs (it will make sense in the story lol), hate fucking/rough sex, unprotective sex, cursing, mentions of: babygirl, slut, good girl, my girl, baby, degrading language

word count: 6769

I couldn't stand him, or anyone else like him. Everyone praised the ground he walked on, but me? Every time I saw him, he made me sick to my stomach.

Well, maybe not sick. But I did hate seeing his dumb, stupid face.

You would think with superheroes becoming known to the public, life would get easier. Crime would go down, more criminals would be off the streets, and the overall quality of life would skyrocket. But that just wasn't factually accurate. Did you know in my city alone, the crime rate has gone up 25% since last year? And what exactly are the superheroes doing about it? Causing more destruction and chaos. I swear, bad things only truly started happening once they came out to the public all those years ago.

The only saving grace I had in my life was that I wasn't alone in my feelings towards superheroes. I had my two best friends, Macie and Rachel, and they both felt the same way I did. Especially towards the best-known superhero in our city, Mr. Fantastic. His real name was Sam Golbach, and I hated him deeply.

He and I had history, you could say. We both went to the same high school. We were both nerdy, and just overall losers. We graduated and moved away to the same city, and then a couple years ago, all of a sudden, he is shown on the news as the newest superhero to save us. It made no sense to me because I remember him from high school. He never had powers. And there's no way that he, the guy that got shoved into lockers and made fun of for being a band nerd, would have tolerated being bullied like that if his powers were super strength and flight. And not only that, but the way the news describes his upbringing: it's all a lie! They paint him to be this all-American boy. They say he was a jock and just a bit shy for most of his life until finally growing into his powers at 19. Most superheroes get their powers by 16, so that alone should be telling that something is off with him. But no. Everyone just believes the lies he tells them. And that is why I hate him.

I may also hate him because I had a huge crush on him in high school and he never gave me the time of day. But I mostly hate him for all of the superhero stuff, not the high school bullshit.

Mostly.

It was like any other normal Tuesday in our office. Our manager, Sally, would bring in donuts, George would make some comment about the week moving too slowly, and around ten o'clock we would all have to stop working to watch the daily superhero news. It was mandatory in our office, as our jobs revolved around fixing superheroes’ fuck ups.

It was almost ten, and we all sat around the flatscreen hanging in the middle of one of our bigger conference rooms, waiting for the news to begin. I glanced around, noticing that Rachel wasn't in. I furrowed my brow, leaning towards Macie.

"Have you seen Rach?" I asked.

She shrugged, "No but I talked to her last night and she seemed fine. Maybe she's just running late or is taking a half day."

I hummed, "Maybe..."

The news turned on loudly, quieting everyone in the office. I leaned back in my chair, sighing deeply. God, please let today be a normal, boring news day.

"Hello everyone, thank you all for coming out this morning," the police commissioner nodded his head, looking at the audience that had formed outside of the precinct. "As always, we like to start with the positives and then move onto the, uh, wreckage. Please hold all questions until the end of the press conference. And now, I pass the stand to Mr. Fantastic."

A bunch of people clapped in the office, some wooing lowly. I grimaced, rolling my eyes the moment he popped on screen.

"Good morning, hello. Oh no need for cheering, thank you. You're too kind," He smiled brightly, shushing the crowd politely. "First, like I always say during these press conferences, thank you for letting me protect this city. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I couldn't protect the lovely citizens of this place."

"You'd probably be working at a Burger King by now." I mumbled, getting close to Macie. She snickered, gazing back at the screen.

"So last night was eventful, like most nights here. I was able to stop two car jackings, and finally put an end to the mask thief that's been vandalizing all of the inner city's school buses. You can all be glad that today, your kids are riding on safe, clean transit." Sam pointed, giving his trademark wink and smile.

I groaned, lulling my head back in the chair. Could this day get any more boring?

"I also have some fantastic news to share with you all," He chuckled, the crowd following suit. "I saved a special young woman from a purse nabbing and possible assault last night around 2:30. Now as you all know, I know many of the people I save like to remain anonymous, but this one really wanted to let you all know how she felt. And of course, I just can't say no to any of you. So please, allow me to give her the floor." He let out another laugh, backing away from the mic. I glanced at the clock, realizing only five minutes had passed. God must have been punishing me, specifically.

Suddenly, everyone in the room gasped, Macie being the loudest. She slapped my leg, pointing at the tv. I turned and my eyes widened at the sight. Rachel, with tears welling up in her eyes, stood at the podium, smiling brightly. "Thank you all. I just wanted to say that Mr. Fantastic," she turned to him giving him a sensual gaze, "Sam, is one of the best superheroes around. This man saved my life, and I couldn't be more grateful for him. He is amazing and so handsome, and this city should be thankful to have a man like him. I love you, Sam. Thank you so much."

She reached over, giving him a huge hug. He accepted her embrace, allowing her to run her hands almost up and down his body too many times.

My mouth dropped open, unable to comprehend what I was watching. Rachel hated Sam just as much as I did. Literally last week she wished a car would fall out of the sky and squish him because he held up her commute stopping a supervillain from breaking out of the state prison. And now she was on tv, basically ready to suck his dick, because he saved her!

Macie and I looked at each other, knowing we needed to talk to Rach as soon as possible. I sent Rach a quick text, telling her to meet us at our usual lunch spot.

~~~~

My eyes narrowed at Rachel, her smile irritating me. "Please, repeat the story one more time for me."

"Okay, if I must," she giggled. "Last night I went to the corner store because I was craving some ice cream. As I was walking home, a man rushed me and stole my purse. I tried to chase after him but couldn't catch him. He ran across the street, and out of the shadows... there was Sam. He swooped in, grabbed the man, roughed him up, and got my purse back to me. God, it was seriously so hot to see him in action like that."

Rach lightly fanned herself, and I had to hold back my vomit.

"So, he saved you, gave you your purse back. And then what?" Macie questioned.

She continued, "He walked me home and... I woke up this morning knowing I had to thank him for saving my life. So on my way to work, I stopped by the police station, saw him and begged him to let me speak at the conference."

I blinked hard, "He didn't save your life. You weren't threatened. Some random dude just stole your purse."

She pouted, "Yeah, but he saved me so much hassle of having to call my credit card companies and tell them to shut everything off and having to get a new I.D.-"

I jumped in, "I get that, and I'm not trying to downplay it, but like.... last week you wanted a car to fall out of the sky on top of him."

"And the week before that we betted on the subway crushing him between the tracks during that pipe burst. What's changed?" Macie argued, taking a sip of her coffee.

"He saved me," she stated plainly, with a soft smile. "You know, I think we've been so focused on this idea of him that I think if we got to really know him, we would know he's a great guy."

"Have you forgotten that he is lying to the public about his upbringing and reputation? Or the fact any time he saves someone, there is destruction in his wake that our company has to clean up, causing our jobs to be more difficult?" I scowled at her, unable to hold back.

She rolled her eyes hard, "Oh, come off it, Y/N. The only reason you care about that is because he rejected you in high school and you're too hung up on it."

"Excuse me?" I deadpanned.

Rach crossed her arms defiantly. "You heard me. I will no longer be a part of your rain-on-Sam parade. He is an amazing man. And a great superhero."

"Even if any of that were true, you gotta admit that this 180 you're doing is weird. You fucking hated him last night." Macie argued.

"And now I want to marry him." Rach smirked.

My eyes widened, "What the fuck did you just say?"

"If you want me to be honest, I'll say it. I think he is the man of my dreams and everything I could hope for in a partner. I want him, and I hope he'll have me." She turned to Macie, almost giggling, "I slipped him my number at the conference."

"You can't be fucking serious, Rach." I groaned.

"I just know he’s great in the bedroom..." Rach thought out loud.

"Oh... so you've completely lost it. Good to know." I remarked, taking a quick sip of my coffee.

"Don't be jealous of our love. Maybe one day he'll save you too." She quipped.

I laughed sarcastically, "I would rather get crushed by a car, thanks."

~~~~

Two weeks had passed since Rach's incident with Sam. We hadn't been talking to one another all that much, just casual conversation in passing. Maybe she was right to some extent. Maybe I was holding onto this hatred for Sam just because he didn't care about my existence back when we were kids. I should let it go, and stop being such a hater.

At least, I thought that way, until this morning.

I had tunnel vision as I glared at the tv, unable to peel my eyes away as I watched the news. Another press conference. Another day of kissing Sam's ass. But this time, he again introduced another woman that wanted to thank him publicly. And this time... it was Macie.

Her spiel was the same, her mannerisms almost identical to Rach's speech. I watched, my mouth a gaped, as she thanked Sam profusely for saving her from the purse nabber. She leaned up and kissed his cheek multiple times, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt desperately.

You've got to be fucking kidding me. There's no way that this was actually happening. Something fishy was going on, and it had everything to do with Sam. I fucking knew he was trouble. I just needed to get proof.

I met with Macie alone at our usual spot. I begged her to tell me everything in detail, and her story was eerily similar to Rachel's.

"So a guy stole your purse as you left some club, Sam got it back to you, walked you home, and then you woke up today knowing you had to tell the world how great he is." I reiterated her story, annoyed.

"Exactly. He really is truly a fantastic guy." She snorted, rolling her eyes, "Oh my God, sorry. Such a bad pun."

"Yeah... that." I blinked, holding in my rage. "So, you don't happen to feel the same way as Rach, tho, right? Like... you're not in love with him?"

She thought about it for a moment, "I do think he's amazing, and I would love to be married to him... So I guess you could say yeah. I am in love. Am I blushing?"

I sighed deeply, "What exactly changed? I know he saved you, or your purse, and that's great. I'm so happy he did that. But what exactly made you wake up today and feel this need to wish to have his children?"

"I don't know. It's like... this light just switched off in my head. I just feel that deep down in my soul, I want to be his. And I really hope he'll have me." She smiled dreamily.

Hearing her say almost the exact same thing as Rach made my composure crack. "Do you hear yourself? You want to be his?! He is a douchey superhero who makes our jobs harder, and not to mention barely does anything to actually help the crime rate in this city! He got you your purse back, and all of sudden you want to... be his? You can't be serious."

She shook her head, glaring. "You know, I think Rach was right. You are jealous of the love he and I share, all because he rejected you."

"He didn't even reject me! He didn't know I existed! There's a difference," I took a breath, trying to calm down. "You don't think it's odd that all of sudden you want to have his children? You don't even want to have kids."

Macie ignored me, continuing her argument. "Either way, you come across really bitter and I hope if he comes to save you, you change your attitude. To be held in his arms would be a dream come true."

She stood up dramatically, leaving the restaurant in a huff.

~~~~

After the shitty month I had, I needed to buy some alcohol to drink my troubles away. Rach and Macie hadn't talked to me since their "savings", so work had become even more tedious and annoying. And now, it seemed like I was the only one in the office that didn't like Sam. Morale had really gone up once he saved two of our coworkers, and I had to quietly sit there, pretending I did despise the man or the situation as a whole.

As I walked home from the liquor store, I noticed how quiet the streets had become as I got closer to my apartment. It was like anyone that was out on the street moments ago disappeared. There were sirens off in the distance and the light rumble of the subway underneath the streets. The low buzz of the street light above me caught my eye, and as I looked up, the light flickered. A chill ran up my spine suddenly.

Okay, maybe I was just freaking myself out for no reason.

A body slammed into mine from behind, almost knocking me flat on the ground. A man wrestled my bag out of my hand, sprinting off down the street.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" I screamed. I began to chase after him, my speed not even remotely catching up to him.

My thoughts swirled of all the things I had in that bag. My wallet, my phone, and my key to get into my apartment. I groaned loudly, annoyed.

Where the fuck were any of the superheroes when you needed them?

The man ducked into an alleyway, a loud crash coming from there. I ran to where he was, finding him passed out in the street. His nose had blood running down it, like someone punched him. My purse was nowhere in sight.

"Are you looking for this?" A voice said from behind me.

I spun on my heels, coming face-to-face with Mr. Fantastic himself, Sam.

I opened my mouth to speak but was unable to say anything. I had so much I wanted to say, but couldn't decide on what.

"No need to be shocked, miss. I know, superheroes are a lot to take in." He smiled softly.

Hearing his voice brought me out of my stupor. "That's not why I'm shocked. You kinda just... came out of nowhere."

His face dropped, surprised by my tone. "Oh..."

We stood there awkwardly for a moment, both unsure what to say next.

He reached out, my purse in his hand. "Um, here you go, Miss...?"

"Y/N. My name is Y/N." I stated.

"What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He complimented me.

"Thanks, I guess," I mumbled. "And thank you for getting my purse back. It means a lot."

"It's all in a day's work. Or night's technically." His well-known laugh escaped his lips.

I blinked, slowly walking away from him, "Yeah.... Anyway, I gotta get back home. It's late, and I wanna get drunk."

"Oh, well, why don't I walk you home?" He asked, keeping in step with me.

"I don't think there's any need to." I argued politely.

"No, let me. It's clearly unsafe on these streets." Sam responded.

"Well, you just stopped the purse nabber... again. For the third time. Maybe this time he can finally get arrested." I smiled bitterly, trying not to sound it.

"The police have already been called and they are on their way. So, why don't I walk you home?" He stopped in front of me, looking me in the eyes genuinely. "I will be worried if I don't make sure you get there safely."

I exhaled, "...Okay, fine."

I walked home silently, not wanting to speak to Sam. He stepped in time with me, never speaking. I almost forgot he was with me, until he cleared his throat once or twice.

I pointed up at my building, pulling my keys out to go inside, "Well, we're here. Thanks for walking me home, I gotta get upstairs and get to drinking. So, goodbye."

"Wait, before you go up, can I ask you something?" He queried.

I squeezed my eyes shut, opening them again and turning back to him. "Sure, I guess."

He crossed his arms, cocking his head. "How did you know I stopped the purse nabber before? Those were such minor crimes I solved; I'm surprised anyone would remember them."

"Well, you didn't really solve the crime since clearly the man never got put away." I retorted; my voice sickeningly sweet.

Sam raised an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to answer his previous question.

"My friends were the two you saved." I deadpanned.

"Oh really, what a small world." He pursed his lips in thought, "Their names were... Rachel and Macie, correct?"

"Yep, them exactly." I nodded.

"They were kinda like you, in a way." He mentioned.

I furrowed my brow, "What do you mean by that?"

His tone shifted. It was no longer the public persona one he used on the news. Now, it was more... casual. Equally as snarky as mine. "They too didn't like me. Or were a little... snippy with me."

Oh, well if you wanna play like that... "Yeah, and weirdly now, they want your babies."

He faux-gasped. "What a strange turn of events."

"I guess you changed their minds. How exactly did you do that?" I glared at him, accusatory.

"My charming personality." He smirked.

"Right." I jeered.

"I mean, if you really want to know the answer, let me into your apartment," his voice was almost sultry, his eyes mischievous. "Let me have one drink with you."

I narrowed my gaze at him, blinking slowly. "You're serious."

"100%. But I mean, if you don't want to know, then I can just leave." He pointed to the street, backing away.

"No, you can come up." I felt this overwhelming sensation that I had made a grave mistake, but I continued. "But if for even a second you make me uncomfortable, I have every right to resend your invitation."

"You know I'm not a vampire, right?" Sam snickered. "I'll respect your wishes regardless, but you can't just kick me out that easily."

"Okay fine, if you don't get out of my house when I say so, I'll stab you. Got it?" I grinned crazily.

He raised an eyebrow playfully, "Feisty... Sure, I hear you loud and clear."

We walked up to my place, my eyes catching his form out of the corner of my eye. What the hell was I even doing? Why was I inviting this asshole to my apartment?

I mean, I know why. But God, I just hope this ends quickly.

I cleared my throat as we both stepped in. Sam glanced around my apartment, giving a soft whistle. "Fan-cy."

I rolled my eyes, knowing he was joking. "Well, some of us aren't government paid employees with apartments in skyrises."

"You are a very defensive person. Do you always feel like you're being attacked, or is that just your general tone with me?" He shot back.

"I guess you just bring it out of me." I popped the bottle of whiskey open, the sound reverberating as I smiled bitterly. I poured two cups, dropping a cube into both.

"You're into whiskey, huh?" He gave me a quick once over, "That's kinda sexy."

"No one asked." I raised my glass, "Cheers."

"To new beginnings." He toasted.

"Sure..." I took a long sip, the whiskey burning a little extra hard.

He let out a light cough. "Hooo, that's has a kick."

"So, are you gonna tell me how or why my friends all of sudden started liking you or not?" I asked coldly.

"You don't mess around." He chuckled.

"I only invited you up here for that reason." I replied honestly.

"It wasn't to sleep with me?" He hummed, "I'm surprised."

"I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth." I spat.

"Well, thank God I'm not." He quipped.

I placed my hands on my hips, annoyed. "So... the reason?"

Sam walked over to my living room, taking in everything. His eyes scanned my bookshelves, stopping suddenly. "Hey, how do you have this?"

I glanced up at the ceiling, hoping God could feel my glare from down here. "Have what?"

He pulled a book out, its green and white cover I knew all too well. "This yearbook. This is the school I went to, the year I graduated."

My heart dropped and I raced over to him, "Hey that's mine!"

He flew across the room easily, flipping through the book. "God, I haven't seen this in so long. But again, how did you get this?"

"Give it back to me." I demanded, stomping up to him.

"Wait a second. Is this you?" He opened up to a page with my high school portrait, little writings around it from friends of mine from back then.

I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks, making me speechless. I yanked the book out of his hands, going back to the bookshelf.

"You went to my high school. Wait, Y/N...." He gasped suddenly, "I remember you! Wow, you got a lot hotter."

"Thanks. Can't say the same for you." I grunted, hating how warm my face felt.

He spun me around, his eyes staring into mine. "Now, there's no need to lie to me."

"You don't understand personal space, do you?" I bitched, trying to push him back.

He barely moved; his eyes unchanging. "Am I not allowed to be close to you? Do I make you nervous or something?"

"No, I just hate your presence." I did my best to hide the shakiness in my voice, my body hitting the edge of my window and radiator.

"Strangely, you are the only woman that's like that." He jested, "Is it because you're hiding a crush or some-"

"No!" I cleared my throat, huffing. "No. I don't have a crush on you."

For a second it looked like he moved, his face holding back a smile. "Can you say that again for me?"

"I definitely have a crush on you." I breathed, my brain feeling like it buffered for a second. Why the fuck did I just say that?

He backed away, cocking his head. "Oh you do? Glad you could admit it."

"I wasn't admitting anything. I was just joking, and the joke is that I've had feelings for you since high school." I gasped, "What the fuck?!"

He teased, "I'm so happy you feel comfortable telling me the truth."

"Why am I saying this?" I whispered to myself.

He pointed down to my hand, "It probably has something to do with the handcuffs I put on you."

"Wha-?" I glanced down, and sure enough one of my wrists was handcuffed to the radiator by my window.

"You gotta be a bit more observant than that." He laughed sincerely, lounging on my couch.

I let out a ragged breath, pissed. "How the fuck did you-"

"Those handcuffs are really only meant to be used by me on criminals, that way they confess. But sometimes I like to use it for more..." He gazed at me longingly, "spicier reasons."

"You're a fucking creep." I hissed.

"And you're into it." He snapped.

"Yes I am." Oh my God...

He bit his lip, pleased at my answer. "So, your friends actually told me, without needing the handcuffs B-T-W, that you had a crush on me since high school. And now seeing you, I remember who you are. You were just as nerdy as me."

"Oh, at least you're admitting that now. Why, because there's no cameras around to lie to?" I sassed, pulling at the handcuffs.

"Hey, it's not a lie that I tell. I just... fib a bit." He settled into my couch, fluffing up one of the pillows, "I did play sports, so that would qualify me as a jock."

I scoffed, "Ping-pong is barely a sport."

"Says you," he grumbled. "But that can't be the only reason you hate me slash love me."

"I don't love you." I stated honestly.

"Oh, but you will," Sam uttered lowly. “You still didn't answer my question though. So, is it really just the crush bullshit?"

"No. It's not just that," I started. "You lied, not only about your upbringing. But your powers. You didn't have them in high school. You got bullied just as much as me, if not more so. If you had super strength, you would have kicked Joe's shins in."

He chuckled mockingly. "God, are you, like, obsessed with me? How do you know so much?"

"Joe bullied me too, dumbass. I'm not obsessed with you, I just don't understand you at all. And I know you're a liar. And I try to use those reasons to hide the feelings I still have," I groaned, pulling at the handcuffs more. "Jesus Christ get these handcuffs off!"

"Not yet," Sam commented. "So... you are right. I do lie, in a lot of ways, to the general public. Sometimes I throw in extra crimes I 'solved' during the night, when usually I'm just chilling at the 24-hour Taco Bell."

I gaped, "I fucking knew it!"

He sat up, sitting on the edge of the couch. "Jokes on you, it's actually the 24-hour Wendys."

"Why do you lie? People love you. There's no need to pretend." I argued.

"Ahh, but there is. I have a lot riding on me to be one of the best superheroes around." He remarked.

I hid my eye roll. "Like what?”

"You're right about one thing. I didn't have superpowers in high school. I wasn't born a superhero. When we graduated, an up-and-coming bio-tech company, Malusvir, reached out to random people asking if they wanted to be part of a study for $50k. I thought, I have no idea what I'm doing with my life, might as well go see what's up. Go be a guinea pig for some money." Sam shook his head, his anger brewing, "Come to find out, they were testing out if they could grow superheroes."

"What the fuck?" I squeaked.

"I was injected a whole lot of times with... something. And while I was basically comatose for months, all of a sudden, superheroes started bursting on the scene. The government was finally letting them out of the bag, and they were allowing all heroes to sign up to become part of the Superheroes Task Force." Sam stood up, starting to pace. "When I awoke, I was one of the only ones that survived the trial run. This company ended up getting bought out by the government, and they covered it up by going bankrupt and saying they were making chemical weapons, which isn't technically wrong."

"Does the government know about you being... home grown?" I inquired.

"No. The bio-tech company used an alias for all of us, so no one found out. And the secrets disappeared with the CEO when he flew out of the country back to his home country and mysteriously died. I'm pretty sure he's just hiding. Or was killed for what he knew." He informed, his eyes almost glazing over.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" I questioned, confused.

"Because no one will believe you." He replied softly, his voice taking me back. Then, he switched back into his cocky self. "So... that's my story. But back to you, how long were you into me?"

"Since junior year." I confessed.

"You liked 17-year-old me?" He winced, "Oof, now that's a choice."

"So was that haircut." I quipped lightheartedly.

He leaned towards me, whispering. "And those cargo shorts."

I snickered, and he smiled genuinely for the first time.

A silence fell over us for a moment, then he looked up at me and asked nonchalantly. "So... do you wanna fuck?"

I choked, "What?"

"Is it really that surprising of a question? You're into me, and I find you hot," his eyes snaked down my body. "Especially handcuffed."

I stammered, "I-I don't-"

"Look, if you don't want to, understandable. I am a bit of a dick. But let me put it to you this way, have sex with me and get all that anger out that you feel towards me." He stepped closer to me, teasingly. "A good hate fucking helps out everyone involved, really."

I breathed, "You're insane."

"Or, if you have sex with me, and I'm bad... you can brag to your friends that I suck." He offered.

I sucked in a deep breath, already knowing my answer. "You raise a good point there."

"So, will you let me make you feel good or no?" He wrapped an arm around me tightly, bringing his face close. Our bodies were pressed together, my heart speeding up. "Do you wanna fuck me or not?"

"Yes I do." I admitted.

"See, and I didn't have to keep the handcuffs on you for you to tell the truth." He raised up his hand showing the cuffs, smirking.

I scoffed, shoving him back. "You are such a dick."

"And you love every second of it." He taunted, back up to the couch.

"I do, I can't lie." I bit my lip, staring at his mouth.

He sat down, pulling me towards him. "Go ahead, sweetheart. Fuck me like you hate me."

I straddled his lap, grinding down on him as our mouths connected. He shoved his tongue into my mouth, a moan falling from my lips. He gripped my ass, pushing me down more onto his lap. I yanked on his hair, digging my nails into his scalp and chest.

He winced, chuckling darkly as he pulled away from our kiss. "Oh you like it rough, baby?"

"Yeah." I smirked.

"Well good," he bunched up my shirt, tearing it away from my body suddenly. The ripping fabric fell apart in his hands and he chuckled darkly. I gasped loudly, a pleasurable chill running down my spine. "Me too."

I whined, "I liked that shirt."

"I don't care." He slammed his lips back onto mine quickly, taking my breath away. He nibbled on my lip, our teeth clashing together from the intensity of the kiss. I grinded myself against his growing bulge, my wet panties pressing into my sex achingly. I hadn't even realized how hot and bothered he had made me, but I wasn't complaining. I needed this, and clearly so did he.

We removed our clothes desperately, needing each other. He sat back against my couch, gazing up at me hungrily.

"God, your body is killing me." He grunted, "Give it to me."

I settled back down onto his lap, my sex grazing his leaking cock. Our breaths stifled, hitching at the feeling of our bodies being so close and so bare. I lined up my hips, slowly taking in every inch of his dick.

Breathy moans fell from my lips, his groans almost covering up my sounds. Once he was completely inside of me, we stared into each other's eyes intensely.

He began moving his hips, his eyes never leaving mine. "How's it feel, baby? Riding the dick of someone you hate."

"I love it." I whimpered.

"Of course you do. You take me so well, babygirl." He grinned.

I grimaced, "Ew, don't call me that."

"I'll call you whatever I want to, and you'll enjoy every second of it." He slapped my ass hard, pushing into me harder, "Won't you?"

"Yeah, I will." I laughed, moving up and down on his cock, "Fuck, you are so annoying."

His voice was raspy as he glared at me, "Oh, I am? Well, you ain't any better."

I snickered, "Nice comeback, nerd."

He grabbed my face, forcing me to look into his eyes. He pounded into me faster, "Nice cunt, slut. Take this dick."

"Oh my God, fuck yes Sam!" I whined.

I bounced up and down on his cock, his hips meeting with mine, making him go deeper and deeper each time. Sweat slid down our bodies, the room rising in temperature from our movements.

His lips brushed against my ear, nibbling along my neck. "Baby, baby, do you wanna know something? I forgot to tell you something."

I groaned, displeased. "Do you know how to not fucking talk?"

"But babygirl, I think this is really important. You'll want to hear it." He hummed, his thrusts stopping.

"What? What is it?" I slowed my hips, my pussy quivering around him, needing more.

He let out a breathy laugh, pushing my hair out of my face. "So, I forgot one major detail when I told you about the bio-tech company that made me the way I am."

I rolled my eyes, not interested in this conversation at all, "What did you forget to tell me?"

"Malusvir..." The lights behind Sam's eyes dimmed, his face dropping. "They weren't making superheroes."

My heart skipped a beat, my eyes fluttering, "What do you me-"

His hand wrapped around my throat quickly, squeezing tightly. My breath hitched, and Sam began to pound into me again, his hips picking back up the pace they were at once before.

"You are such a silly, dumb girl. Your friends were just as dumb as you. Maybe even dumber." His almost sinister gaze sent shivers of pleasure down my spine as his grip tightened.

I held onto his shoulders, my heart rate picking up as he made it harder to breathe. "S-Sam, fuck."

"You wanna know how I got your friends to fall in love with me?" He pressed his mouth against my ear, whispering harshly. "I fucked them. Just like I'm fucking you. All three of you were so desperate and needy for this dick. But you? God, you're so much sexier."

I shook my head, "You're fucking joking..."

"No, I'm not. And yet, even as I tell you this, you're still riding me." Sam smirked, growling, "God, aren't you pathetic? Your crush runs real deep. Just like my cock."

"Fuck you." I spat.

"Fuck you right back." He leaned in again, biting my earlobe and neck. "I could literally feel you squeeze around me when I called you pathetic. Don't pretend you don't like this."

I tried ignoring him, but he was right. My body reacted to him saying it again, throbbing around him. "How did you make them-"

"Love me? Pheromones, mostly. Thanks to all of those..." His eyes closed tightly as he got lost in thought. "Injections. Fuuuck. God, you make it hard to think sweetheart."

He had to be lying. He had to be fucking with me. "So they fucked you, and that made them fall in love with you? But Rach said-"

“I fucked them but made it so they can't tell anyone. They remember it, but will never say a word. No one would believe them anyway." He winked, releasing his hand from my neck and sliding it down my body to my clit. "Oh baby, you are in for a world of change once you come. Or once I come inside of you."

"S-Shut up Sam. Shit, fuck yeah..." I let out a breathy moan, my hips stuttering. His cock was hitting the right spot repeatedly, his thumb rubbing my clit gently, making it hard to do anything but whine. "You're just fucking with me."

"Believe what you want to, Y/N. In the end, you're gonna be mine." His lustful blue eyes bore into mine, his voice husky as he continued fucking me. "My girl to use whenever I want to. My girl that gets love drunk on my cock. Aren't you excited for that? Don't you want that? To be my little plaything forever?"

"Yeaahhh," I mewled. My eyes widened, realizing what I said. "Fuck, h-how did you-"

"It's already happening. You can't stop it now. But you don't want to, either. Take this dick more and more, slut." He gripped my hips, slamming me down onto him over and over again. My brain grew quiet, mindless. All I could think of was his leaking cock deep within me and needing him to come inside of me. I needed his come. I needed him.

"Aww, baby. You're in love, aren't you? You love me, don't you?" He mocked, a feign innocent smile on his face.

I tried shaking my head. I was not in love with him. But my body didn't listen to me anymore.

I nodded my head, unable to stop myself. My heart surged, a wave of adoration washing over me as I took in Sam's face. God, he was so handsome, even more so when he was fucking me. I cried out in pleasure, my hips bucking hastily.

He bit his lip, his head falling back against the couch. "Good girl. You're my good girl. Forever."

"Forever." I repeated, my heart soaring.

"Who's are you? Tell me." He ordered, his eyes staring into mine.

"Yours." I whined wantonly.

He sped up his actions, fucking me faster and deeper. "Say it again."

Borderline sobbing, I stuttered out, "I'mmmm youuurss."

"Again!" He yelled, rubbing my clit harder.

"I'm yours, Sam!" I panted, bouncing on his dick as fast as I could.

"That's it, baby. You're so close. Get close for me!" He shouted darkly.

I begged desperately, my body overwhelmed, "Fuck Sam, please! Let me come! I fucking need it! I need you."

"That's right babygirl." He grabbed my neck again, growling, "Fucking come! Come for me!"

I exploded in ecstasy, my brain turning off as I came the hardest I ever had before. My body took over, my hips rutting against Sam's. My nails dug into his arm and shoulder, holding onto him for dear life as I rode him through my orgasm. Suddenly, he came inside of me, his groans thundering off the walls of my apartment. His hips bucked into me with abandon, pounding me once more before dropping back down onto the couch. I felt his cum leak out of my cunt, sliding down my inner thigh. Our bodies collapsed against one another, completely spent.

As I passed out, the last thing I heard was a small whisper that escaped his lips. "Mine."

#sam golbach #sam golbach fic #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach oneshot #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x reader #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween

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manias-wordcount · 7 months

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Conflict of Interests (Light Yagami)

Kinktober 2023 Day One: Distracted

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

You always thought that Light Yagami who sits behind you during your 1:15 PM Tuesday/Thursday Lecture is a really, really cute guy. You also thought the Kira was a gift from the gods of old- sent to protect those who still believe in all things good.

You never expected them to be the same person.

But then again, you didn’t expect that Light Yagami would invite you of all people to his home one day after classes to compare notes for the upcoming exam.

And you certainly didn’t expect it to end up with you being bent over his desk and fucked from behind while he passes judgment on the criminals plaguing the world either.

You honestly thought you were the luckiest girl in the world after being invited back to your classroom crush’s place. You thought you were even luckier when the two of you arrived only to find the house empty and quiet and private. And you swore the first thing that you would do after this was buy lottery tickets when he started putting his hand on your thigh and leaning in close. And one thing led to another, and suddenly you were on your knees in front of him. Pulling out a slender cock with impressive veins, a bright red tip, and a little bit of precum leaking from the very top. He let you lick and lick and lick it all to your heart’s content. But it was only when he had his hand wrapped up your hair and his dick down your throat that he told you that he was him.

That he was Kira.

You thought he was joking. You thought it was supposed to be some lighthearted joke to turn a hot and heavy scene a little more fun and silly. But he started explaining. He started telling you stories. Of his conquests. Of his progress. Of his victims. And while still shoving his cock down your throat, he pulled out a notebook and held it above your head. He said if you let him do what he wants with your body

You know you shouldn’t believe him. In fact, you’re still not sure if you do believe him or not. He said so many pretty and terrifying things. It’d be insane to take him at face value. You’d be insane to take him at face value.

Yet here you fucking are. Letting him fuck you nice and a little dumb while he places the notebook flat against your back and writes names in it like there’s no tomorrow.

‘Your prayers have been heard,’ He told you with a gentle voice after he stood you up and walked you over to his desk. And that meant that your clothes needed to be thrown about his room and that your panties needed to find their way around your ankles as he rolled his hips into you and kept a steady pace while he continued his work as god of the New World. Sliding in and out of your warm, wet pussy so, so easily now that he’s stretched you out and got you adjusted to the feeling of his cock filling you up and stuffing you full.

“You understand, don’t you?” He asked you in a breathy voice- a sound you’re only barely able to hear over the daily news broadcast reporting about a robbery in the Shinjuku area. Truthfully, it’s the only real sign of him being affected by what’s happening. But that didn’t stop the creaking of the floorboards and the shaking of his desk. That didn’t stop the pen in his hand from scribbling in the little black book- a feeling you can only barely recognize. Nor does it stop your wanton moans the muttered comments underneath his breath about your whorish body- ready to serve your god the only way you could. “Kira is too busy to fuck you properly. So this will have to do, won’t it? ”

His tone loses its gentle touch in that moment. No longer does it sound like the Light Yagami that you knew from class. No longer does it sound like the Kira you would imagine in your dreams. Strong, considerate, sweet. Maybe deep down inside, you could have imagined that Light was Kira after all. Maybe, but you’re not really sure. You really…you really can’t think that hard right now. Because there’s a hand gripping onto your hip that’s forcing you to bounce back on the cock behind you. And it’s hitting at that particular spot inside of you- the spot that none of your past boyfriends have been able to come close to reaching. And that feeling is making you whine. Making you squirm and moan and call out the name of your god- the real name.

And yet? He doesn’t seem to care.

Instead, you hear him groan from behind you when you move too much. And you feel his anger when you get a little loud. Annoyances like this cause him to get a little rough with his handling of you. Sometimes, he’ll just turn the TV a little bit louder, as if to try to drown out your voice as you call for your god. Sometimes, he’ll adjust his grip on your hips to be a little tight. Too tight. Or maybe it’ll be a harsh slap of your ass. Or a tug at a fist full of your hair. Or a single, murmured command: “Shut up.”

But he never once stopped writing in that notebook. He never once stopped judging. Killing. Saving.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but justice waits for nothing.”

At least, that’s his offhanded excuse to you to get you to quiet up and let him work. And maybe it’s because he told you that he’s a god that you decide to stand there, spread your legs, and take it. Maybe it’s because you believe that he’s a god that you decide that you’ll just bite at your lips, turn your hands into fists, and let yourself get fucked so incredibly deep and slow that you don’t know what to do with yourself. At a pace that is just enough to drive you mad but not nearly enough to drive you insane. At a pace, he decided. At a pace he designed. At pace built to do nothing but please a man who will never be satisfied. Who will never be entertained. Not unless the world burns. Not unless the world burns. At his very command. And then…and only then…

“Not even for you to cum.”

…maybe then Light Yagami would fuck the sin out of you like you always wished Kira would.

#light yagami #light yagami x reader #light x reader #death note #death note x reader #death note fanfic #death note fanfiction #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

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acehoons · 11 months

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fake dating with jungwon . . !

☆! yang jungwon x reader. fluff(?) semi-angst. requested. ‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ[ 🎧 ] now playing . . boyfriend by big time rush

a/n: i might have projected myself a little into this one >< oh to have a yang jungwon in my life ㅠㅠ

you were never usually the one to date around

but sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures

having your name known in high school had its ups and downs, you realized

you wouldn’t call yourself pretty or even popular, but you knew deep down that a few people found you attractive

with the way they approached you or tried to get your attention; you weren’t dumb nor were you blind

you didn’t mind it at first. you admit you liked a little attention here and there

but when things got too far, you knew you had to put a stop to it

more utc

you weren’t sure how many people had a crush on you, but you knew that there were some

at first, you paid no attention to it, and was even thankful, in a way

but when your suitors realized that you wouldn’t budge, they started to up the ante

from receiving harmless love letters and the occasional chocolate bar, it suddenly evolved into date invitations bouquets and jewelry as gifts

albeit you find the gestures kind, but you didn’t really want anyone to keep spending money on you in fear of leading anyone on

what’s worse is, your faceless suitors have decided to show themselves to you, and to the entire school

most of them confront you in the halls, asking when you’ll accept their courting

others passively wait for you to choose them as your boy/girlfriend

so, on a random tuesday, when your countless suitors are busy bugging you on your way to your next class,

you frustratingly exclaim, “i have a boyfriend!”

now the problem was: you didn’t have a boyfriend

but things were escalating too fast and you just wanted it to stop

you had no heart to reject any of them but you also wanted them to keep their distance

so this was the next best option.. right?

your plan started to go downhill quickly when one of your suitors asked, “who is it?”

you panic, trying to think of a fake name or even someone that doesn’t go to your school

but your mouth worked faster than your brain, and you found yourself saying “jungwon”

“yang jungwon?” someone asked

yang jungwon— the school vice president, soccer team captain, top of his class. also your best friend since both of you were toddlers

“yeah.” you say, feeling unconfident about your plan, afraid that any one of them would peak through the cracks of your lie

but thankfully, none of them do. they leave you be, grumbling about how you’ve been dating jungwon but never said anything

however, for the first time in a while, no one bugs you for an entire day.

you receive no gifts, no guys waiting outside your door to walk you to your next class, not even a passive aggressively suitor “accidentally” bumping you in the halls

your relief is short-lived, however, once classes end and you have to meet up with jungwon

the two of you always walk home at the end of everyday since you’re both neighbors anyway

“hey,” he greets you by the gate. “how was your day?”

“fine.” you reply

the two of you didn’t share any classes, since jungwon was a year higher than you, so most of your walks consisted of you and jungwon talking about your day

he knew about your countless suitors, and was half expecting you to rant about another absurd situation with one of them

but instead, you were quiet the entire time

and he immediately knew that something serious was up, because you were never quiet

“you ok?” he’d ask, genuinely worried about you

absolutely anxious about what you had said earlier in the hallways, you found yourself asking jungwon the craziest question

“canyoubemyboyfriend.” you say, the words jumbled with how fast you mumbled them

“what.” jungwon would just stare at you, stopped in his tracks

you sighed, deciding to tell him what happened: the suitors, what you told them, and how you want the entire ordeal to just be over with

“so.. you told them you were dating me?” he asked, piecing the situation together.

“yeah.” you said. “i’m just so tired of them bothering me all the time.”

“yeah, i can tell.” jungwon laughed.

awkward silence filled the two of you as you continued your walk back home

you treated jungwon’s silence as rejection. you decided to just leave it be, thinking of another solution for tomorrow

but when the two of you made it to your front porch, jungwon suddenly says,

“i’ll do it.” he says

“huh.” you stared at him, unsure if you heard that correctly

“i’ll be your boyfriend.” he nonchantly says, hands in his jacket pockets.

“seriously??” you said, not expecting him to agree.

“yeah. if it means keeping those creeps away from you.” he said

you were so ecstatic of him agreeing that you didn’t think much of what he said

you threw yourself unto jungwon, giving him a tight hug

“thank you, thank you wonnie! you’re a life saver.”

he merely smiles, hugging you back

“let’s talk about it tomorrow.” you said, pulling away

you bid jungwon goodbye and walk back to your front porch, and into your front door

unbeknownst to you, jungwon looked at you the entire time

with a sad smile on his face, he leaves for his house and worries about the repercussions tomorrow

a/n: i actually liked this one a lot! lmk if you’d like a part two, or if you want to make this into a multi-parter ^^

#?! sinag.works — 📋#?! sinag.works :: jungwon — 📋#?! sinag.works — en #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen drabbles #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #jungwon imagines #jungwon reactions #jungwon drabbles #jungwon headcanons #jungwon scenarios #yang jungwon

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skz317cb97 · 1 year

Text

Valentine's Don't

Bang Chan x Female reader

Word count: 4k

Synopsis: Sick of spending every Valentine's Day in a rut you impulsively ask a cute guy at the bar to go out with you. Will your plan to meet up backfire in your face?

A/N: This was a wonderful idea brought to me by one of my sweet friends. I'm not sure if they want to be named but they know who they are. I loved this idea as soon as I heard it! I was hoping to have it all done in one part for Valentine's Day but couldn't quite make it. Oh well. Hope you all enjoy! If you do please like, comment, share, shoot an ask, I love to hear from you all! Also there is no smut in this part but there will be in part 2.

Warnings: None really. Swearing/strong language, drinking/mentions of alcohol. That's it I think. If I missed something let me know!

Why, why did you let your friend talk you into coming to the bar one week before Valentine’s Day? You always hated the ‘holiday’ ever since elementary school. It was just a popularity contest that you never won, hell you never even placed. Now you were at the bar alone, ditched by your friend that made you come out in the first place when the first halfway cute guy approached her. Not that you blamed her. If a halfway hot guy approached you right now you probably wouldn’t be so bitter but alas you clearly weren’t winning any popularity contests still. Which may be your fault, you were not always the most approachable person, but your past had taught you to be guarded.

You were working on your third drink since your friend had disappeared and after you emptied the glass you happened to catch a look at a guy from across the bar. He was way beyond halfway hot he was scorching, fire, lava. What’s hotter than lava? He was that! He looked away when the two of you made eye contact.

Had he been looking at you? Only one way to find out. Tipsy you was about to make a big move because why the fuck not at this rate? The worst he could do was say no, well no, the worst he could do was laugh in your face and tell you you’re dumb and ugly. You were going out on a limb that he wasn’t the type to say that. You approached him with all the BDE you could muster.

“How many times a day do you get told your gorgeous, it's gotta be in the double digits.” He turned towards you smiling and his ears instantly turned red.

“Probably about half as much as you do.” You grimaced.

“Yikes. That bad huh?” He laughed at the jab you took at yourself not realizing it was one hundred percent true. No one ever walked up to you let alone walked up and told you you were gorgeous. Maybe it was the ‘don’t fuck with me’ look that had a way of unintentionally appearing on your face or maybe they thought... you were hit with a realization you, for some stupid reason, hadn’t considered before approaching him

“Oh wait, oh shit, I’m sorry you have a girlfriend don’t you. I’m so sorr-” He shook his head.

“No no. You’re fine I don’t have a girlfriend.” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Boyfriend?” He laughed so hard his dimples appeared.

“No boyfriend either no, I’m single.” You nodded.

“So do you come to this bar a lot?” he wiggled his hand back and forth.

“Sometimes, some of my friends are in the band.”

“What about next Tuesday?” It was so random, and you asked so quickly it caught him off guard.

“Oh uh...” He thought for a moment.

“Ohhh isn’t that Valen-” You waved and shook your head.

“Yea okay look I’m gonna give it to you straight is that okay?” You legitimately waited for his reply, and he nodded. Just lay it all out for him, fuck it.

“You’re probably the prettiest person I’ve ever seen in my life, and I don’t even know your name, but I have never had a good Valentine’s Day, I’m always angry and alone. I don’t want another repeat, I’m sick to death of it, for once I’d like to go out with a cute guy and actually enjoy the stupid holiday. So here it is, I’m going to come to this bar at 7 pm February 14th. If you think spending Valentine’s with me might be fun, meet me here. If you don’t, well then, no hard feelings.” You turned to walk away, and he caught your hand to stop you.

“Chris...” You looked at him confused.

“My name...it’s Chris...” You smiled and nodded then turned and headed straight out of the bar. You would text your friend to tell her you left, you had to go after that move. As soon as you were out the door you were mentally kicking yourself. God that must have seemed so desperate, you hoped it came off as confident. Ugh why did you do that!?

Every day that week up until Valentine’s Day you went back and forth between freaking out and trying to be optimistic. He did laugh and he’d told you his name, but you were never very good at being optimistic. Your internal monolog was louder. ‘He could have been laughing at you not with you, Chris is so generic he probably said the first name that came to mind.’ Then you would be back to freaking out again.

Valentine’s Day. You had decided you were going to go, now all you had to do was muster up that same BDE that you’d had when you asked him out in the first place. You dressed nicely but not too fancy, put on a little make up and just threw your hair up, a few of those stubborn pieces refusing to stay put, falling around your face. Your nerves started to get to you again, and that voice. ‘No sense in trying too hard, he won’t be coming.’

You second guessed even going yourself and you had just about talked yourself out of it, then you saw yourself in the mirror. You had put in a little effort to look nice already, you could at least go and have a drink then leave when he doesn’t show. No one would know the difference anyway.

So you were sitting there at the bar about halfway through your first drink, you were trying to pace yourself, but when you looked at the clock and saw seven fifteen you downed the rest of your glass and signaled to the bar tender for another.

At seven thirty and two drinks down, you decided you would rather get drunk at home alone than in a bar full of couples groping each other while wearing literal heart eyes. You threw some cash down on the bar and went to leave. As you were making your way through the sea of people you could hear someone from the crowd behind you calling for someone.

“Hey! Uh... wait hey!” The voice sounded like it was getting closer and closer. Whoever they were looking for was evidently in your direction.

“Wait! Fucking hell, I... I don’t know your name... fuck. Hey gorgeous!” For some reason that struck you and made you turn. When you did you saw that the person who had been yelling was in fact yelling for you and that person was Chris. You must have looked shocked when he walked up.

“I’m so sorry I’m late I was taking care of something really important and it took me a little longer than I thought it would.” You still stood there stunned. He actually came? You shook the cobwebs in your brain loose and remembered how to speak.

“Oh, uh no that’s fine, I just figured...” He frowned a little.

“I was standing you up? Sorry, I’d have texted and told you, but I didn’t know your number, or your name...” He chuckled rubbing the back of his neck.

“No really it's okay, did you want to grab a drink?” He shook his head.

“We should probably get going if we’re going to make our dinner reservations.” You stood there stunned again.

“D-dinner?” He laughed, his eyes scrunched and his dimples showed.

“Yes, dinner. It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m taking a cute girl out to dinner.” You started giggling like a teenaged girl talking to her crush. Your giggle transformed into a cough as you cleared your throat, trying to maintain your cool façade from the week before.

“Right of course dinner. Let’s go then.” Chris smiled and placed his hand on the small of your back. You wished it didn’t send a shiver up your spine. God you were touch starved. Chris led you out of the bar and to his car, opening the door for you. Right at that very moment you actually stopped and thought for a second. What you were doing seemed so crazy you hadn’t told any of your friends. Cute or not, no one knew you were meeting this guy and you were about to climb in his car. You hesitated getting in.

“You’re not some serial killer, are you? If I ask and you are, you have to tell, that’s the rule.” Chris laughed with his whole body. You really liked his laugh; it was warm and made you smile.

“I think that’s for undercover police but no, I’m not a serial killer.” You nodded side eyeing him.

“That’s exactly what I’d expect an undercover cop to say.” Tears were in his eyes, every time he thought he had a hold of himself you had him laughing again. What Chris didn’t realize was humor was your security blanket when you were nervous. It was kind of hard for you to make friends, it wasn’t easy for you to open up and be vulnerable enough for people to really get to know you. When you did make friends it was usually because you made them laugh, so that was your go to safety net when you weren’t sure if being yourself was okay.

After a short ride you pulled up to a small restaurant. The only way it stood out was the neon sign with its name in cursive. You could blink and miss it. When Chris led you into the dimly lit restaurant you could hear salsa music playing. There was limited seating and a dance floor took up quite a bit of space. The only time you had ever danced was at prom and that was more shuffling back and forth while being groped than it was actually dancing.

“We don’t have to dance. I picked this place because they have great food and music, the dancing is optional.” He must have picked up on your immediate apprehension.

“We can dance.” The fuck were you saying?

“Looks fun.” FUN!? Oh God why was your overzealous mouth sabotaging you like that.

“Really?” He asked surprised and you nodded

“Yea really!” ‘Yea really’ you mocked yourself in your head as you continued to speak without thinking.

“That’s great, I used to be a dancer. I don’t get to do it very often anymore.” Of course he used to be a dancer, look at him. Making an ass out of yourself in front of a hot amateur wasn’t enough, go ahead and make a fool of yourself in front of a hot professional instead.

“You used to be a dancer?” That was in fact what he said. Braindead much? He nodded and suddenly your mouth was overriding your brain again.

“Exotic?” Chris laughed shaking his head.

“No no, mostly hip hop but some contemporary and ballroom as well.” Fantastic. You dropped the subject as you made it to the table. Maybe it wouldn’t come up again. Once you were both seated and your drinks were ordered you started to loosen up a bit. You had a little small talk, but you still didn’t open up about yourself.

Chris was friendly and open. He struck you as the type that never met a stranger. You both ordered your food and he was right, the meal was delicious. The music was good, and he was pleasant to talk to also. After you ate you both sat there listening to the band. Chris smiled and tapped his toe along with the rhythm.

“You know someone in the band here too?” You asked sarcastically and sipped your drink. His dimples appeared again.

“Yes actually.” You almost spit your drink out.

“Really?!” He nodded smiling ear to ear and pointed.

“See the buff dude playing drums?” You shook your head.

“That’s my friend Changbin, he fills in here sometimes, but he usually plays at the bar where we met.” Then you recognized him, you had seen him playing at the bar before.

“So how about that dance.” You laughed nervously. You really hoped he’d forgotten about that.

“Aren’t you supposed to wait twenty minutes before dancing after a meal?” Chris shook his head laughing again. You really liked his laugh.

“I’m pretty sure that’s swimming but if you don’t want to-” You quickly shook your head.

“No, I want to!” Internal face palm. Way to not take the out he gave you genius.

“You sure?” You nodded. There you go! Double down on your chance to look stupid, why not?

“Great come on!” He held out his hand and you took it. As he led you towards the dance floor your heartbeat got louder and louder in your ears, you almost couldn’t hear the music. When he turned to face you, you had no idea what to do. Chris picked up on that pretty quickly if he didn’t know outright from the start. He pulled you closer by your hips, then he placed your hands on his shoulders before grabbing your hips again.

“Just follow my lead.” You gave him a small smile and shook your head as he started to sway both of your hips to the beat of the music.

“There you go, now look at me.” Your eyes had been glued to your feet. Two of Chris’ fingers placed under your chin tilted your head up to look him in the eye.

“Perfect. Gorgeous.” You could feel yourself starting to flush.

“Now when I take a step forward you take a step back and when I take a step back you take one forward. It’s easy.” He took a step back and you followed taking a step forward. Chris’ hips swiveled to the rhythm as he took a step forward and you back.

“A natural!” You bit back the smile trying to force its way out.

“Yea a natural disaster, just like a tornado.” You scoffed and Chris laughed. You made it through the first song only stepping on his toes a few times, then a slower more sultry song started.

Chris pulled you closer, your hips almost pressed together, you didn’t think your face could burn any hotter when his hips started swaying with yours, his arms around your waist, yours wrapped around his shoulders. You bravely toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck while watching your feet again. When you did, he started rubbing his thumbs gently against your lower back making your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“So why do you hate Valentine’s Day?” He suddenly broke the silence between you. You looked up and shrugged your shoulders opting to look over his shoulder and not in his eyes as you attempted to be a little open.

“Might as well be Friday the thirteenth to me. It’s just never been a good day, I dunno. Break ups always seemed to happen around that time for me, I always end up alone. When I caught my last boyfriend cheating on me on Valentine's Day that just kind of sealed the deal for me.”

“How long ago was that?” You just shook your head. It had been years but you had given up on finding someone, trying to be content in your loneliness. This stupid holiday just always got to you. You finally willed yourself to look at him, Chris gave you a tight smile.

“Sorry.” You shook your head and tried to laugh it off putting up the wall again.

“What are you sorry for? It’s just some corporate holiday to make money off saps. It’s not that big of a deal really.” You looked back over his shoulder again focusing on the wall behind him hoping he wouldn’t press the matter as you tried to hide the overwhelming sadness you felt suddenly. He didn’t thankfully and you finished dancing to the song in silence.

“Come on let's get out of here.”

“Where to?” Chris shook his head.

“Nnnope, it’s a surprise and why I was late. I hope that it makes up for it.”

“You’ve already more than made up for it just by coming at all Chris. Thanks.” He smiled and his hand braced the small of your back as you both got your things and left the restaurant. Once you both were in the car and on your way a silence hung between you again and that internal monolog of yours came back. ‘You sounded desperate before now you sound sad and des-” As if Chris could sense the spiraling thoughts in your head, he finally broke the silence.

“So Valentine’s Day is a bust holiday for you, what’s your favorite?” You thought about his question and then shook your head not wanting to give him the sad answer.

“Come on you can tell me, please?” He pushed his bottom lip out and it was too cute not to give into.

“Halloween was my favorite when I was a kid.” Chris smiled.

“All the candy is pretty awesome.” You shook your head.

“No, I mean yeah, the candy was great, but I liked it because I was able to be someone else for a day, anyone else. I don’t know just someone that wasn’t me.” Chris’ brow furrowed.

“Why wouldn’t you want to be you?” Chris was pulling up to an iron fence and parking as he asked. You couldn’t help your attention suddenly being drawn to your surroundings.

“Just because I... uh Chris why are we at a cemetery?” He shook his head.

“It’s not a cemetery it’s a botanical garden. A friend...”

“Plays in the band here too?” He laughed, that warm sweet laugh of his.

“No no they run the place though and when they closed at seven I met her and got the keys to the place. Which is why I was so late. Sorry again about that.” You shook your head, you were shocked. If Chris put so much effort into a Valentine’s date with a total stranger he must be a really good friend. You hoped after that night you could be friends.

He unlocked the gate and led you into the garden. It was kind of hard to see just at first then Chris disappeared for a second and the next thing you knew hundreds of thousands of twinkle lights lit up the whole garden. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Suddenly Chris was by your side again startling you.

You turned to him with your hand still over your heart. When you looked up at him you couldn’t speak. He was beautiful, you knew that, anyone with eyes knew that, but with the lights and the garden, his smile that scrunched up his eyes, he was stunning, hence the speechlessness. Finally you forced yourself to form words.

“Chris... I... just... you did all of this for me? Dinner? This garden? For me?” You were genuinely confused because you had never met anyone like him before, as beautiful inside as he was outside. Your cool façade was melting, you had no joke or punchline.

“Well it’s not like I strung up all the lights or anything, but yeah! I know it’s not much-” You kissed him. You threw your arms around his shoulders and kissed him and he kissed you back. It was a soft innocent kiss, a thank you, that words alone couldn’t convey.

“Thank you.” You whispered as you pulled back with your eyes closed. He tasted like mint and smelled like the woods.

“You’re welcome-” His voice was a breath; he cupped your face and immediately kissed you again. There was more passion behind his lips the second time, his hands cradled your face as he tilted his head, his plump lips slightly parting to taste more of yours. You followed, your lips parting, head tilting. Chris’ tongue gently invaded your mouth, teasing yours.

You toyed with the curls at his neck again as the two of you slowly, softly kissed. Chris let go of your face and wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you closer. After a moment you two broke the kiss, having to breathe being your only reason. You both stood there flushed, chests rapidly rising and falling with heavy breaths, arms wrapped around one another. He chewed at his bottom lip and smiled at you, forcing a small smile onto your face.

“Um, heh, uh why don’t I show you around the place hm?” You nodded and Chris grabbed your hand and started to lead you through the garden. You both walked quietly for some time looking at all the beautiful flowers and reading different descriptions before Chris’ voice cut through the silence.

“You know you really are gorgeous.” It caught you off guard. You must have looked shocked. You had been looking at flowers, but Chris had really only been looking at you this whole time.

“W-what makes you say that?” He stopped walking and turned to you, grabbing your other hand holding both in his own.

“Because you are and because I really want to kiss you again.” Before you could even think of how to reply to that Chris’ lips were softly pressed against yours again, his fingers threading through your hair. You gripped the front of his shirt and kissed him back, things getting heated rather quickly between the two of you. Finally Chris broke away apologizing.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m... uhh, I’m trying to be respectful, just... when I kiss you...” He wasn’t even sure of what he was trying to say.

“It’s okay Chris...” You pulled him closer by his shirt and kissed him again both of you getting lost in the other momentarily. When your lips parted again you both started laughing.

“How about I get you home?” Chris chuckled and you nodded, smiling the biggest smile you had in the longest time. You walked back out of the garden the way you came in so Chris could turn off the lights and lock back up. You both hopped in his car, you gave him directions to your place, and you were off. The car ride there was accompanied by some soft music Chris had put on. Once you got to your place Chris parked the car.

“Hold on l’ll get your door.” Before you could insist that it was unnecessary, he was out of the car making his way around to your side. He opened the door and helped you out. He kept a hold of your hand the whole way to your front door. You fished your keys out and stood there a moment.

“This has been the best Valentine’s Day Chris. Thank you.” You couldn’t look at him only your feet, you felt so vulnerable at that moment. Chris traced the back of his fingers along your cheek, you tilted your head up and he leaned in and kissed you goodnight.

“Thank you for inviting me to spend the evening with you.” Just before you opened your front door Chris cleared his throat. You turned and looked at him confused.

“Well I was just wondering I mean... I’d like to take you out again some time if that’s alright?” You nodded smiling.

“I’d really like that Chris.” He stood there for a moment like he was still waiting for something more.

“Would it be okay if I got your number?” He handed you his phone as you laughed.

“Of course, I wasn’t even thinking!” You typed your number in and hit call. Your phone started ringing and you hung up.

“There now I’ve got yours too.” You handed Chris back his phone.

“Just one more thing?” You stood there waiting for his final request from you perhaps another goodnight kiss.

“What’s your name?” Oh holy shit, you had gone this whole evening and not once did you bother mentioning your name!

“Oh my god Chris I’m so sorry!” He laughed then you leaned in and kissed him, your lips slightly parted from his.

“y/n.” He nodded and gave you one more peck on the lips smiling.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @hyunelixies @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh

“y/n... gorgeous.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chris bang smut #chan smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤

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hrteddie · 2 years

Text

Confession

sypnosis: cheerleader!y/n confesses her feelings for the “freak” of the school. Tags: fem!reader x Eddie Munson.

Just some fluff hehe. sorry if this isnt good, This is my second time writing something like this and also for grammar mistakes english isn’t my first language

It had been exactly two months since your first encounter with Eddie in the school’s forest, the day that your life got changed upside down.

“Wow um hello… uh what.. what are you doing here exactly—?” “oh i’m sorry, I didn’t know this was your place—“ “no, no it’s okay!!”

Evee since then you and eddie would sneak off into the woods once in a while to talk, play games or just hand out. You thought about how he was not what everyone painted him to be. “Eddie Munson…? isn’t he part of a satanic cult..?” “Eddie?? You mean that freak that plays Dungeons and Dragons..?” “Eddie?? he’s a weirdo stay away from him y/n” But in reality he was a big softy that loves to play his guitar, loves to make you laugh and loves to play his little fantasy game.. not a freak nor a weirdo. He would leave little notes in your locker, asking you to meet him after class or asking you to go to one of his shows. “Y/n you have to come! I’m going to play a song just for you!!” “alright alright I’ll be there Munson”

And there you were, straight out of cheer practice and inside the little venue where he would play with his band every tuesday.“This song goes out to my good friend y/n, captain of the cheer team and my no.1 fan of course!” he spoke into the mic, smiling at you. “yeah, his good friend.. that’s all we are.. good friends!” you reassured yourself every night.

Also you couldn’t help but blush at the sight of him during lunch, him sitting with his friends, members of hell fire and you sitting with your “friends” from cheer and the basketball team. He didn’t bat an eye at you, he knew that you couldn’t be seen with him, or for another matter even make eye contact with him. It just wasn’t possible, beloved y/n and freak eddie? not happening. But oh how desperately he wanted to just steal a glance at you, I mean you did it, so why couldn’t he..? Why was it weird for him to look at you, but not you to look at him..?

“Earth to y/n.. hello?!” asked chrissy, giggling and waving her hand infront of you. “oh, sorry i spaced out..” youre replied while smiling. “did you space out or where you looking at munson again?” she whispered while poking fun at you. “ohmygod, was it that obvious?” you replied while covering your mouth in embarrassment. “a little..” she said while lighting punching your shoulder. “You should talk to him.. he’s a good guy” “I already do… It’s just that we don’t talk in public…” “oh… why?” “because it’s weird?” “so??” she replied while looking at him. “what is he to you y/n?” she asked not breaking contact with him. “He’s a good friend.. why?” “are you sure?” You nodded while looking at her confused. “good friends don’t look at each other the way you two do” she said while smiling. “It will be our own little secret if you two decide to finally confess your feelings for each other..” “what feelings are you talking about..?” “don’t act dumb now, go on and tell him. trust me okay?”

You weren’t acting dumb, and either ways even if he did like you it wasn’t going to be easy to date each other.☆

And now the present time, You were sitting on the picnic bench once again, awaiting for your friend to arrive. It was a little bit past 12, students leaving for the day or going out for lunch. The empty forest made it easy for you to hear him when he was nearby “Y/n hey! waited long for me??” eddie asked making his way towards you. “no of course not, just got here..” you mumbled while fiddling with the end of your skirt. “saw you and chrissy talking today, what was that about? not that i’m nosy or anything … but i’m nosy” he said while setting his stuff down and sitting across from you. “oh you know, the usual, just cheer stuff” you said quickly while looking down at your skirt. You couldn’t dare to make eye contact, what did chrissy even know about you and eddie? It was obvious that he only saw you as a friend, and it was also obvious that you two would never work out—

“Y/n?? are you okay??” he asked interrupting your thoughts. “oh yeah, sorry I just had something on my mind...” you said still not making eye contact with him. “are you sure..?” he asked while placing his hand on top of yours. It took you by surprise, a small gasp leaving your lips. You hadn’t even noticed that your hands were now resting on the table infront of you, or the fact that Eddie was staring at you intensely. His big hand covering your small one made you gulp. “Yeah totally okay!!” you smiled while taking your hand away. It was an awkward silence, nothing that you ever experienced with him before.You sighed as you finally let the words out.

“I just don’t know why i feel this way, but I know that you’re really important to me..” “feel what way..?” “i dont know.. it’s a feeling that i only get when i’m around you and see you.. you know..?” you said finally looking at him. “like butterflies in your stomach..?” he asked while tilting his head. “i suppose yeah… gosh this is so dumb.. I’m sorry, i’m going to go.” you said, picking up your stuff. “no, it isn’t dumb… y/n i actually wanted to talk to you about them same thing and i like you—“ “yeah as a friend i know—“ “no,no more than a friend..” Eddie said.

Was this real? was he actually serious? or maybe he was just joking around you know? “are you joking..? do you actually like me…?” “y/n, I should be asking you that question.. the head cheerleader liking me? the freak of the school? we’re on two different spectrums here love.”

love?

You giggled, while smiling at him. “you know eddie i actually liked you since we were in middle school…” you finally said while standing and walking over to him. “you did…?” he looked surprised, while putting a hair strand behind his ear. “yeah I was just always so scared of you because of what people had to say… you know you’re not what i thought you’d be like..” you trailed off. “Mean and scary?” he asked, twirling his hair and hiding behind it in embarrassment. “yeah.” “well i could say the same thing about you.. i thought you’d be mean and scary as well..” “me?” you whispered while smiling. “yeah.., but you’re not… you’re kind with a heart made of gold.” he added on.

You couldn’t help but smile, you giggled over your silly little crush on the guy. “I’m glad i met you again, and I’m glad this time i actually had the courage to tell you how i feel.” It was like a heavy burden was finally lifted off your shoulders. You turned to face him to see what he had to say. He didn’t say a word, he just took his hand in yours both of you looking into each other eyes.

“I cant believe you’re actually real” he stated. “I want to be with you all the time.. and I want to hold your hand and kiss you and just hold you forever… will you be my girlfriend y/n?” he asked, you could see the sparkle in his eyes. You kissed him in response and for the first time things actually felt right.

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starcrossedreaders · 3 months

Text

Are You Really Okay?

Chapter One: The Art of Bullshit

Chapter summary: Tuesdays for Jean were easy days, he had two classes to go and the rest of the day was his to waste away, until today.

Warnings: Cursing

Notes: This will be a slow-burn type of story,idk how slow it will be. Also if you have any ideas on where to take this next please share them, So enjoy!

Genre: "Enemies" to lovers Jean falling first??

Pairings: Jean x F!Reader

word count: 1,758

Next Chapter

The cold wind scarred Jean's cheeks as the cold air bit at his lungs. The walk to his creative writing class was always the worst. Having to walk across campus from the art building to the English building was always the worst part of his Tuesdays and Thursdays. He had 15 minutes to make it to class, and the cold wind of the departing winter still ran through the air as spring came closer and closer each day, making the walk worse than it needed to be.

The entrance to the building came closer to sight as Jean picked up his pace to run away from the cold air. Opening the door, warm air sucked Jean into the building. He pulled his hood down, shook his hair into place, and rubbed his hands together in the hope of bringing the heat back to them. Quick to make it to class on time he skipped a step or two as he went up the stairs and turned right to go to his lecture hall. Normally, he would never be in this big of a rush to get to class on time but after a few phone calls from his parents about how if he loses his scholarships to dumb habits like that he would be on his own. Normally he would never be this negligent, but ever since June 16th of last year Jean never really seemed to be himself.

Swinging the classroom door open, he was quick to take a seat somewhere in the middle and pull out his sketchbook. The empty page with a few pencil lines stared back at him. Resting his head on his hand he tapped the desk as he desperately searched his brain for some idea for his assignment. His thoughts were scattered as the chair next to him screeched in agony against the floor, the thump of someone sitting in the chair and a sigh followed right after had him looking to see who sat next to him.

His eyes widened a little as his breath hitched. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight next to him. You. Your cheeks were raw from the cold air as your soft lips slightly parted as your panted. Your hair framed your face perfectly as you fixed a few stray pieces. One last shiver ran through your body as you huffed leaning back into your seat to get ready for the next agonizing 95 minutes.

“You could not have been any louder when sitting down.” Jean mumbled to himself more then you.

You scoffed and right as your opened your mouth to give him some snarky remark, the classroom door swung open as the professor scrambled in the room.

“Sorry for my tardiness, I was helping Professor Levi with his technology.” In one big breath she set her stuff down on her desk before she went around and started to set up the lecture. The class snickered before she turned back around and began her lecture.

While she spoke about your next assignment, you mindlessly doodled in the notebook in front of you, trying not to pay any mind to the guy sitting next to you. The constant tapping of his pen on his desk was driving you nuts. There was nothing more you wanted to do than to just tell him off right then and there.

“For this assignment, I don’t just want you guys to right some random fictional piece, at this point you should be good at that. Instead, I want you guys to take parts of your past, good or bad and put it into a story without using yourself or the others involved.” The professor was very animated as she through her hands around trying to explain the assignment.

“Take the storyline or plot and write about it in a creative way with new characters. Be creative, maybe put it in a fantasy world, or turn it into a comic strip instead of novel…” Jean drowned her out, not really interested in what she was talking about.

“...You guy’s will be doing this assignment with the people sitting next to you. Everything you need to do it is on the website. Good luck.” Jean groaned at the idea of having to do partner work.

Pulling out your laptop you sigh. “You’re the type of person that makes these stupid assignments worse then they need to be.” You mumbled as you logged in.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jean closed his sketchbook and followed your actions.

“Exacatly what is sounds like.” You deadpan as pulled up a google doc.

“Whatever, what are we writing about.” Jean clicked a pen as if he was ready to jot down notes in his notebook. It was very obvious he could careless about what was being written, as long as it got done with a good grade.

“I don’t know. Have you had any interesting events forever changing the trajectory of your life? The more we trauma dump the better the grade.” You mumbled as you traced out random shapes on your laptop.

Your indifference to the words you spoke is what caused you to miss the way Jean’s shoulders tensed up. The way he stopped spinning his pen between his fingers. The way he stared off as his mind ran straight to the one place his mind had been playing on repeat for him for the past year. You didn’t miss the silence though, or the way his pen made a soft thud as it dropped on his notebook and rolled off the desk. Turning your head to face him you noticed the way his lips pressed together to form a straight line, the way his brows furrowed, or the slight twitch of his left eye as he stared off. Clearly, you touched a hard part of his life without realizing it.

Sighing, you bent over in your chair to pick up his pen. Slapping it down softly on his desk your voice pulled him out of his trance. “Here, you dropped this.”

Leaning back in your chair you began to type out some ideas. Jean’s eyes slowly moved to look at the pen you placed on his desk and back up to you. Mumbling a curt thanks. Not really paying him any mind you turned your laptop to face him.

“Here are some ideas what do you think?” Jean merely gazed at the screen before he shrugged his shoulders.

“If I’m being honest, I have more important things to worry about then writing a stupid story.” His cocky words itched you the wrong way.

“How unfortunate, because I rather not do all the work, so pick a topic and we can split the work.” You tried to reason with him, albeit not in the nicest way, but you still tried.

He rolled his eyes as he adjusted himself in his seat, god the desks were so uncomfortable. “The third one I guess.” Jean didn’t even know if there was a third a idea, he just wanted to comprise, split the work, and go his separate way.

You turned your laptop back to yourself as you mumbled. “Heartbreak… interesting.” You began to type away while Jean just spun his pen again.

After a few heartbeats and loud keystrokes from you computer, you turned to Jean. “I have the work split and mapped out, do you have anyway I can contact you?” You did not seem pleased to be basically asking for his number.

Based on his demeanor, the tattoos that peaked from under his hoodie, and his messy mullet you would have guessed him to be some frat fuckboy who probably has more girl numbers in his phone than he can actually remember, but it was worth a shot.

He looked at you with annoyance that made you cringe a bit. Sighing he shuffled in his chair as he pulled his phone out, unlocking it with face ID he handed it to you. You gripped the device in your hand as you pulled it back towards you. Quickly, you filled out your contact information, trying to ignore his shattered screen protector. You send a quick text to your phone before you hand it back to him.

“I’ll text you the details.” You started to pack your things up in your bag before you stood up. “So please do the work, I gave you all the easy shit.” Before Jean could get a word out you were walking off to head back to your apartment.

You didn’t even ask him what his name was.

Something about that rubbed him the wrong way, he was never used that type of behavior from girls. They would fall to their knees and beg just to even get to do partner work with him like this, and yet here you are so standoffish and almost…cold.

The vibration of Jean’s phone in his pocket pulled him out of his conentrated state of rolling a blunt. Quickly licking the paper and sealing it shut he handed it to Connie before he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

[Y/N]: *2 attachments*

Here’s you half of the work.

“What a buzz kill.” He mumbled before he looked at the two pictures you sent. He was appalled to say the least. Everything you gave him did not seem like easy work at all. Annoyed with the work load you just gave him he had to response, as much as he just wanted to leave you on seen.

[Jean]: That does not seem easy at all, why the hell do I have to draw for a writing class?

[Y/N]: It's a creative writing class so idk be creative maybe?

Your quick response had him snort and shake his head.

[Jean]: Wth do I draw then?

His cluelessness made you role your eyes, everything he needed to go off of was literally in the pictures you sent.

[Y/N]: Idk you’re the artist, just use the art of bullshit and figure it out.

[Jean]: Real helpful

[Y/N]: you’re welcome.

Before Jean could give you a snarky remark Connie was pushing on his shoulder. “It’s your turn man.” Connie held out a burning blunt, the same one Jean just rolled.

Jean took it inbetween his fingers and took a long drag as he thought about the what the hell he was supposed to draw. Taking one more hit he passed it on before he looked at the pictures you sent.

Writing prompt/ idea: The art of losing those closest to you.

Maybe he should have paid closer attention to the options that were given to him.

#jean kirstein #jean kirschtien #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein fluff #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein headcanons #jean x reader #aot au #aot fanfiction #aot jean #aot imagines #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut

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