#frat!peter parker
Note
ugh I love the way you write frat Peter <3333 am thinking of how he would react when his frat brothers flirt with his girl jus to rile him up - ❄️❄️
A Little Reminder
--genre: fluff, slight smut, MINORS DNI.
--pairing: frat!tasm!peter parker x f!reader
--word count: 1.4k
--warnings: language, kisses, slight smut, mention of hickeys, fluff!!!
love this request! i have something similar (more angsty) if you want more, "Let Me Be There, Let Me Be Yours".
You were drained, to say the least. Your last lecture wiped you out, followed by a tutoring session to bring up your plummeting English Literature grade. Peter’s the one to blame for that one. Sure, you scheduled an early morning class knowing that it would be hard to get there, but Peter keeping you hostage in bed also didn’t help.
As you walk back to your apartment, you’re mentally cursing him knowing that you’ll realistically not do anything about it. With your headphones blocking out the world around you, your only goal was to get home and to Peter. Your bed calls out for you.
Switching songs, an arm is suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, making you jump out of your skin. Pulling off one side of your headphones, you look towards the person whose arm is around you, finding one of Peter’s frat brothers grinning widely at you. You barely have time to deal with whatever is going on, but still decide to play along not to seem rude, “Bryce, what the fuck is going on?”
“Oh nothing,” he replied nonchalantly, his arm still on your shoulders, “ just walking you home, that’s all.” His tone still holds one of a joke, but now that you’re approaching your apartment he still doesn’t give up.
You can’t help but laugh and scoff, you wonder how long he’ll keep this up. Ducking out of his hold, you stand in front of him, “I didn’t ask you to do that, but thank you so much for your generosity, Bryce. Your heart must be so so big!” You bring a hand up to his shoulder and pat it a few times, “I’ll make sure to tell Pete about this. Just to let him know how caring you are.”
“You do that, (Y/N)! I cannot wait to hear back from him,” his smile is wide still, but sarcasm drips off of his tongue.
You start to walk up the stairs to your building, waving Bryce goodbye as you giggle to yourself. He’s going to get an earful the next time he sees Peter.
****
“Hi, Pete! I’m home,” you call out as you close and lock the door behind you. It doesn’t take long before you hear heavy footsteps approach you from the bedroom, Peter’s disheveled state greeting you. He’s shirtless, his boxers the only thing on his body, but you’re not complaining. Peter’s even wearing his glasses, which is a rarity recently. You’ve noticed he only wears them around you.
As he approaches you, he takes your school bag and your headphones, placing them on the couch before he envelopes you in a bone-crushing hug. You breathe in his scent, the natural musk combined with his body wash makes you melt. Your ear is placed directly on his heart, the rhythmic beat acting as a lullaby.
You look up at him again, craving to see him in his glasses again to see that he’s already looking at you. You stand on your toes to reach his lips, catching him off guard in a kiss that he quickly gets accustomed to. His lips are slightly chapped.
Pulling away he sighs, giving your lips one more quick peck, “How was class, bug?” Brushing a piece of hair that fell into your eyes away, he holds the side of your face.
“It was long and boring,” you close your eyes, the mere thought of it reeling in another wave of exhaustion, “but guess who I ran into on the way home?” You pull away from his hold to walk over to the kitchen, Peter following loosely behind you. There are a few beats of silence as he goes through the list of who it could be, but he soon gives up with a sigh. “Bryce fucking Quinn,” you reveal.
He leans against the cabinet as you reach into the fridge for a bottle of water, his eyes widening, “I haven’t seen him in a while. How is he?”
“He’s good,” you open the cap and take a sip, before dropping the bomb on him, “he’s very nice.”
This sparks Peter’s interest, his head cocking to the side as his brows furrowed in confusion, “Oh really?” Your impression of him shocks him. He knows Bryce Quinn to be a jokester, he’s never taken anything seriously, and if he did, it was always because it was part of a running bit that he carried.
You smirk as you take another sip, trying not to reveal how amused you are, “Yeah, he even walked me home! He even threw his arm over me to make sure I got here safe.” You leave Peter to go into the bathroom, the sudden urge to pee coming over you.
Peter’s once relaxed demeanor was now one of rigid shock, he once again followed you. “What do you mean ‘threw his arm over you’?” You’re sitting on the toilet when Peter opens the door and stands directly in front of you, looking for answers.
“You need me to answer that right now?”
“Well,” he doesn’t see anything wrong with asking right now, “when else am I gonna ask you?” He’s dead serious too.
Reaching for the toilet paper, you gather a few pieces, “Maybe when I’m not actively on the toilet?”
He finally comes to his senses as he turns around, facing the wall, and leaving you to do your business. “It’s not like I haven’t seen every part of you before,” he adds, before turning back around when he hears the toilet flush and the sink run as you wash your hands.
Washing your hands, you look into the mirror only to see Peter behind you, giving you a scare. “If you’re really worried about this babe, you know you shouldn’t,” you dry your hands off on the towel next to the sink. Turning around to face your worried and slightly angry boyfriend, you reach up to hold his face, his head slightly flinching away from your cold hands, you giggle, “Shit, sorry!”
Pulling down his face, you kiss his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands find their home on your waist. The kiss slowly gets needier, causing Peter’s hands to lower down to under your thighs, hoisting you onto the counter, his arms caging you in as he places both of his hands on either side of your head. Your fingers are weaving themselves in his hair, slightly tugging on it, causing a soft moan to escape his lips. You pull away, his lips chasing yours as you back away. “Peter,” you whine.
He’s not listening, his only objective was connecting your lips again. He’s panting as he responds, his voice breathy, “Yeah, baby?” You can’t help but smirk at his current state. It seems like he forgot all about your previous conversation.
As you tilt your head back and forth to look into his eyes, he follows. His lips are desperate for your touch, and it shows. You grab his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes, “Don’t be too hard on Bryce when you see him next.”
Peter groans as he tilts his head back away from your touch, a breathy chuckle leaving him, “Why are we still talking about Bryce when I’m so close to taking you back to bed?”
You blush at his response, “I’m just saying…I don’t need to be the damsel in distress when it comes to you, Petey.” Peter brings his hands down to scoop under your thighs once again, pulling you up to his chest, making you wrap both your arms and legs around him to not fall, a big smile on your face.
“Oh, bug,” he starts to walk to your bedroom, “you’re never the damsel in distress. But sometimes they need a little reminder that you aren’t theirs to play with, are you?” You shake your head in response, the heat in your cheeks starting to pool lower on your body. “And sometimes they forget that,” he places you gently on the bed.
Peter can’t help but admire you as you lay in front of him. Pulling off his glasses and tossing them to the side, he kneels on the bed to kiss you again, leaving a few marks on your neck to serve as a physical reminder to those around you. Bryce is so fucked.
--author's note: I LOVE FRAT!PETER AND I'M SO HAPPY YOU LOVE HIM TOO ❄️ ANON!!!!!! this got a little spicy at the end and i'm so sorry i have no idea what happened LMAOO. don't forget to like, comment, and reblog. my 300 follower celebration is happening now, so don't forget to send things in!! rules are pinned to my blog!!! ok, ily bye <333
#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker#fluff#marvel#andrew garfield peter parker#tasm!peter parker#spiderman#college au#frat!peter parker x f!reader#frat!peter parker#frat!peter#tasm!peter parker smut#frat!peter smut
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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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「 ✦ peter parker ✦ 」
╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all peter parker stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3
╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮
🕷️ @waitimcomingtoo
🕸️ you wear those shoes and I will wear that dress
☕️ you and Peter are just friends but he accidentally kisses you goodbye.
🕸️ stolen moments
☕️ your secret relationship is exposed when Peter returns from a mission bruised and bloody and you comfort him in front of everyone
🕸️ the great war
☕️ Peters double life causes serious strain on your relationship.
🕸️ burnt face and second base
☕️ peter can’t seem to stop accidentally hurting his crush.
🕸️ my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand
☕️ when peter learns you have healing powers, he starts faking injuries to come see you until he gets seriously hurt.
🕸️ bringing sexy back
☕️ peter tries and fails to seduce you
🕸️ dos oruguitas
☕️ after the events of NWH, Peter becomes a regular at your coffee shop and convinces himself that you’re starting to remember him.
🕸️ just to learn that you never cared
☕️ always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret
🕸️ smell ya later
☕️ you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else
🕸️ the script
☕️you and Peter break up once you find out his secret and he falls apart
🕷️ @webslingingslasher
🕸️ U.N.I pt2
☕️ frat!peter
🕸️ frat!peter blurbs
🕸️ frat!peter
🕸️ unknown sender
🕸️ campus
☕️ Peter has never had a one night stand, but when he meets you at a party that changes, until he has to pretend he never wants to see you again.
🕸️ cherry lube
🕷️ please call me peter by @shawnxstyles
🕸️ you haven’t been able to come with anyone besides yourself, making you think something’s wrong with you. once you go to the gynecologist, dr. parker shows you that you’re just fine.
🕷️ the last time by @delicate-dorothea
🕸️ Peter's on the verge of losing you after disappointing you yet again.
🕷️ medic in lace by @madlittlecriminal
🕸️ peters hurt but doesn’t care once he see what you’re wearing.
🕷️ fangirling over spiderman by @parkerpeter24
🕸️ reader fangirls over spiderman to peter not knowing it’s him.
🕷️ possession by @silkscream
🕸️ peter parker is not himself when he falls into your universe. it must be a curse that he finds himself tethered to you. the darkness inside him has never wanted anything more.
🕷️ need to know by @motherofdogs1010
🕸️ When she was ready to get back out on the dating scene after dumping a certain Winter Soldier, Y/N was a woman ready to get back out there. She just never expected to find herself in a relationship with a certain nerdy spider.
🕷️ naked by @reesewillow-delrey
🕸️ In which Reader walks in on a naked Peter, Reader laughs, Peter becomes insecure. Reader decides to show herself naked back in the worst moment possible.
🕷️ swing by by @sunshinesteviee
🕸️ peter is a fellow teacher, and is also your best friend at work. he helps you bring spider-man in to meet your class, but something about it seems a bit suspicious.
🕷️ picture perfect by @mattymattymerduck
🕸️ You’re hired to kiss Spider-man for the Daily Bugle’s next Spidey-centric article.
🕷️ potential customer pt2 by @int-writersmind
🕸️ you work at a record store, bored out of your mind, until peter parker walks in and catches you eye.
🕷️ lost the game pt2 pt3 by @nexusnyx
🕸️ The explanation your mind settled for was that whoever lived under that mask, also lived somewhere close by. It explained the first time you found him limping and bleeding on an alley, and it explains how you evolved into his personal caretaker for the wounds and afflictions of Spider-Man's after battle consequences.
The only thing it doesn't explain, however, is why through the thick and convoluted webs of your strange situationship, a certain tension has built between you two. Palpable. Physical. As electric as some of his tales, and as dangerous as he is.
The tension between you and Spidey grows, and it grows, and it grows. One day, it snaps.
🕷️ physics and english teacher love affair by @certifiedlovergirlsstuff
🕸️ those two teachers that students are always interested in their relationship status.
🕷️ celebrity crush by @cantstoptheimagines
🕸️ You have a crush on Spider-Man, unaware that he’s the one you spend all your time with.
🕷️ indefinitely you by @spider-stark
🕸️ In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.
🕷️ sunset lovers by @duskholland
🕸️ you’ve never met your soulmate, but you know his handwriting like the back of your hand—literally. every word your soulmate writes on his skin appears on yours, and vice versa. you’re desperate to meet him, but until the universe decides to introduce you, you’re stuck with scribbled smiley faces and chemistry formulae.
🕷️like the stars we're destined to die out and i'm destined to lose you by @msgorillagripcoochie
🕸️ you had finally gotten the happy ending you so desperately wanted but when gwen is gonna die, you know you have to save her even if you die
🕷️ lead the way by @foreverrogers
🕸️ you find out your best friend has never had sex. who else would be better to show him just how good it can be?
🕷️ if i could die in your arms by @selfcarecap
🕸️ When another Peter Parker shows up in your world, you give him a chance to have one last moment with the love of his life, someone who looked exactly like you, but also someone who died in his arms.
🕷️ masterlist by @spidey-webz
🕷️ request by @luveline
「 ✦ harry osborn ✦ 」
🕷️ request by @arkhamsrevenge
🕸️ cuddling harry
🕷️ make you better by @stickymolasses
🕸️ You're Harry's nurse and you can't help him feel better physically anymore, so you resort to playing therapist.
• MASTERLIST
• MARVEL MASTERLIST
hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3
last update april 25, 2024
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#Spider-Man#spiderman x reader#spiderman#peter parker fluff#peter parker smut#peter parker angst#peter parker oneshot#peter parker series#insomniac spiderman#spiderman fluff#peter parker ps5#peter parker masterlist#spiderman angst#spiderman oneshot#spiderman series#frat!peter parker#marvel x reader#marvel#harry osborn x reader#harry osborn#harry osborn imagine
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i haven't proofread this one yall be kind:(
the night air was stickily humid,the kind of weather that warranted open windows and skimpy night dresses. the kind that lured a certain spider back into your home,breaking many personal vows to just leave you alone. you had kept the room empty,dark,only dimly lit by the reflective light of the moon casting shadows through the lace curtains you'd left open - an invitation to his presence. it was a way of making him comfortable,even with the colourful chrome shielding his identity,the darkness just made him feel that bit more safe.
your thin sheets had been thrown to the side,only barely tickling your ankles as you watched him. your dark hair strewn over your shoulder,lipstick smudged and the spaghetti straps of your teasingly thin,black nightdress falling over your shoulders.
he breathed deeply,lips parting against the mesh of his suit as you ghosted yours over his. you were used to the retroreflective eyes of his suit,you almost felt as if you could see through them now. like you could see into him,past his physical appearance underneath the mask.
you ran a finger teasingly under the edge of the mask,bunching it around your fingers as you lifted it slightly. his breathing was steady,fingers gripping at your plush hips as you straddled him,giving you unadulterated control over him. you left it to rest just over his nose,revealing his almost paper-thin lips to you,pouted and swollen. you ran a thumb over the dip of his cupids bow,unusually defined. you rubbed gently at the almost lack of stubble decorating his top lip,biting back a smile at how new york city's spider-man was a boyish youth who could barely grow facial hair. your fingers were curled around his jaw,the deep red of your nails mixing with the ghostly pale of his skin,a perfect match to his costume. "what do you look like?" it was almost a whisper,your eyes trained on the big,white of his suit as if you could make contact with him that way.
he breathed deeply,"you know i can't,it wouldn't be--"
"no," you cut him off,leaning to press a wet kiss to the piece of fabric just above his cheekbone,"i don't want you to show me. just tell me."
he was dumbfounded for a moment,wetting his lips as he stared at you. what difference would a description make? after-all,you still wouldn't actually know.
"tell me,spider." you cooed,running your lips along his cheek,"what is it? big,brown eyes?" you moved to press a kiss to the tip of his nose,"a piercing blue?",another kiss to his eyebrow,"green?" you made contact with his eyes,pulling back slightly as if to ask him to answer you.
"brown,the first one."
you hummed at this,continuing to trail your lips toward his ear,wrapping them around the shell over his mask. "my favourite."
your declaration had him almost hopeful. "what about your hair?"
"it's also brown," he started,moving his head to try and chase your lips again,growing bored of you suckling at his clothed ear. "i guess you could say curly."
you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips,just to satiate him for the moment. "just my type,bug."
he let a breathy chuckle pass,one that had your ears pricking and your eyes flicking up to his face,not that you could really see his expression,anyway.
"you got any freaky birthmarks?"
"no." he sounded almost offended at the question.
"scars?"
"not any that you haven't already seen."
you hooked a leg around his waist,teasingly slow as you curled inwards,pulling him toward you. you leaned back on your elbows,making a complete show of the movement and showcasing your accentuated cleavage to him,the straps of your thin nightgown dangerously low.
"easy." he warns,conscious of the blaring city that needed to be patrolled just outside your window.
"what? afraid you might overstay your welcome?" the smirk you wore was sickly,it rattled peter so much he felt like his bones were overheating,pushing any kind of feelings beyond pure,animalistic attraction down before he even had chance to indulge.
"'thought i was always welcome,baby." he said it like a statement,leaning down to slot his body above yours. his right palm was flat beside your head,the dip in the bed causing your body to lay slightly lop-sided,your hip popping just enough to brush perfectly into the palm of his left hand,giving the flesh a soft squeeze.
you dodged his kisses,leaving him to press wet dots to your jawline as he whined beneath you. "don't you have a neighbourhood to be saving?"
"-not when i have a beautiful lady right here who needs my help." he was quick,running a clothed finger through your slick to emphasise his point.
#peter parker blurb#peter parker smut#peter parker#spiderman#spiderman smut#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#marvel mcu#tom holland#tom holland smut#frat!peter#frat!peter parker#𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#not too sure abt this one
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Infrunami
summary — peter’s memory is really good (no it’s not)
pairing — tasm!frat!peter parker x fem!reader
disclaimer — i don’t own tasm or peter. i’ve also been listening to infrunami on repeat for 4 days and had to do something about it.
warnings — mentions of drinking/alcohol, possible ooc, and this is (let’s all say it!) unedited
The frat house was just about as clean as it could be. It was rare for a house full of boys to be spotless, especially with weekly parties like the one going on right now. Surprisingly enough, this particular party had been relatively chill--no broken glass, no body shots. Maybe it was the pungent haze of weed in the air that floated from the mouths of those with sloppily rolled blunts and dying pens. Instead of a blunt, Peter's fingers were wrapped around a red solo cup.
"...and honestly, it's sort of weird because, y'know..."
There was a girl attached to his arm. He wasn't drunk enough to forget her name—well, he wouldn't have forgotten it if he even knew it in the first place. She seemed nice enough: a giggly blonde majoring in poli-sci...or was is psych? Honestly, her introduction was all sort of fuzzy. One minute, he was alone, the next, he was hearing about a research project that was 'sort of weird.'
"Hey, you mind if I go grab another drink?" Peter interrupted her rant, his voice low.
"Oh, yeah, sure," she nods in response, glossy lips stretched into a smile.
He gives her a closed-lipped grin of his own before picking himself off the wall and heading to the kitchen. He weaves his way through the house in an eerily graceful fashion. Upon reaching the kitchen, he looks down at his full cup.
Peter wasn't a dick. At least, he liked to think he wasn't a dick. He wouldn't just tell a girl to piss off if he wasn't interested; he'd make excuses and slip out as fast as possible. Maybe in the long run it was sort of a dick move, but he rarely ever saw those girls again (and if he did, he'd look the other way). There was the fact that he was bound to forget a few faces as well.
“No lady-friend tonight, Parker?” Zack—one of his frat brothers—chimed in his ear. He slipped past Peter and to the keg they’d set on ice in a plastic kiddie pool. Never once did he think he’d see a Sonic the Hedgehog themed kiddie pool next to the oven.
“It’s like, ten, give it a rest,” Peter shot back, sipping at his beer.
“I saw you talking to that blonde.” Zack smiled and made a gesture of approval as he filled his cup.
“Eh,” Peter shrugged.
“‘Eh?’” Zack’s eyes widened, “I’d say she’s at least three tiers up from ‘eh’ category.”
"Eh," Peter repeats, leaning his head back. It wasn't as if he had a girl wrapped around his arm at every party, but it also wouldn't be surprising to see it. Between his freshman and junior year of college, his body count had increased significantly. He had regular hookups—at least one every week and rarely ever with the same person more than once or twice. It was easier to just love 'em and leave 'em. At least, that's what he told himself every time he was ordering an Uber for the girl in his bed.
"Well, if you're gonna 'eh' her, mind if I give it a try?" Zack asked, taking a gulp of the beer, swiping the foam off his lip with his thumb.
"Be my guest," Peter waved him off casually.
"I'm gonna go full Zack-Attack," he grinned widely, shooting Peter a thumbs up.
"Never say that again," Peter called out, though, Zack had already turned his back to approach the blonde. And so it was just him and his beer. His beer and him. A cup and a hand, a drink and a tongue, a—damn, he was bored. Normally, he really liked these parties. He could get a decent buzz or high and usually end the night with someone going down on him. Tonight, though, was so dull. He felt (ironically) like a fly on the wall, watching the world around him through a vignette filter. The boredom was almost comforting. Nothing was happening, but then again, nothing was happening. He could bask in the fact that he had nothing and no one to do—
Thump.
Karma was real, and it was a total bitch. Right when Peter had decided that his night was going to be one of peaceful indifference, he watched an obviously inebriated boy stumble past him. He saw it all happen in slow motion: the way the his feet dragged into one another, one shoe catching the lace of the other. Before the realization that he was falling could hit, Peter grabbed the boy's shoulder and righted him. Unfortunately, the drink in the boy's hand hadn't been so lucky. It slipped from his hands and splashed out beyond him like amber rainfall. If Peter hadn't had much to drink, he probably could've caught it. But his senses were somewhat dulled, and the liquid was already pouring from the lip of the cup.
"Oh, shit."
Karma actually wasn't that bad, Peter thought, as his eyes flashed ahead of him. Instead of splashing onto the floor, the beer had landed on an innocent bystander. An extremely attractive innocent bystander.
Her face was crinkled up like a disappointed mother who just came home to see her kid shoving stuffed animals down the toilet. Though her jeans were nearly beer-free, her shirt was entirely soaked, Splash Mountain soaked. Her gaze first landed on the boy, then on Peter. Okay, so karma was actually really cool.
"I am so sorry!" The boy slurred, his eyes drawn open in horror.
"Yeah, I figured," she sighed. She didn't sound condescending—she just sounded like she was already over it. The ends of Peter's lips twitched, but he suppressed the smirk.
"I can't believe I spilled my drink on you!" The boy was much less over it than she was, "I'm so sorry! I—oh, man—"
"Hey, bud, I heard they're doing Jägerbombs out on the porch," Peter whispered to the boy. The guilt was gone from his face almost instantaneously, replaced with an almost childlike sense of wonder.
"I fucking love Jägerbombs!" He exclaimed, his empty solo cup forgotten as stumbled off and out of the kitchen.
"I've never seen someone move on so fast," Wet Shirt Girl spoke up, watching the boy nearly fall again.
"The power of Jägerbombs," Peter suggested. He slipped his windbreaker from his arms and held it out to her, offering a smile along with it.
"Here," he said, "It doesn't exactly fix the wet shirt, but it works for now."
"Thanks," she nodded, grabbing the jacket. She slid it on with an almost exhausted sigh before speaking again: "I’ll only smell horrible now."
Peter laughed at that. He watched her zip it up, he watched the way it strained against—
"I'm Peter." His eyes connected with hers again. A brief look of shock took over her face before it melted back into the same neutral expression she held before. He almost wondered if it was a brief stroke of imagination that made him see her widened eyes.
"I bet you are." Was her reply. Oh?
"That's usually the cue to introduce yourself," he said, a hint of a smile still on his lips.
"Usually is," she nodded. There was a brief moment of silence, an awkward pause at which they stood at a stalemate. Peter took her in again. She was cute. Really cute. Even if she had been weird about introductions, he couldn't help but admire her. So, he spoke up, his voice splitting through the silence but not the tension.
"Do you want to borrow a shirt?" He asked, "My room's right upstairs." When she didn't immediately reply, he quickly added: "I swear I'm not trying to pull anything, I just figured it would probably be pretty uncomfortable wearing a beer shirt."
She watched him for a moment, her eyebrows crinkling in a way that made Peter fight off another smile. He knew he'd won when she let out another sigh, the tired, over-it kind that he was already becoming familiar with it.
"Alright," she nodded. Peter chose not to hide his grin as he mimicked her nod. He led her away from the kitchen and towards the staircase, peering over his shoulder every once in a while to make sure she was still in his tow. Sure enough, every time he looked, she would be there, pulling the windbreaker—his windbreaker—around her.
His room wasn't messy, exactly. There were scattered papers and rogue socks, and of course his flannel sheets were crinkled at the foot of his bed, but it wasn't disgusting. Their entrance was nothing less than unceremonious.
"This is my room," he stated the obvious, gesturing around.
"I would've never guessed." She shook her head. He gave her another small smile before he crossed the room to his dresser. He searched his drawers for something baggy and stupid, something he wouldn't miss. After a few seconds, he landed on a gray shirt with a smiling pterodactyl on the front. Faded words words under the creature read 'You're Dino-Soaring!' Good enough.
“Hopefully this shirt isn’t too provocative,” he grinned as he handed it over.
“Hm, I’ll have to make it work,” she said, inspecting the shirt in an overdramatized sort of way. While she looked at the shirt, Peter went right back to looking at her. She’d be a welcoming sight to wake up to next morning. He wouldn’t even mind paying for her Uber—hell, he might even walk her out of the house, make sure she gets in—
“You got a bathroom I can use? To change?” Her voice interrupts his thoughts, and he shakes the clouds from his eyes.
“Yeah, of course,” he nodded. A few doors down and they make it to the bathroom. Peter goes first, checking for drunk bathtub dwellers, before slapping the doorframe.
“All yours,” he announced, leaning against the wall next to the door. She gives him a salute before entering and closing the door behind her. It only takes a minute or two before she’s emerging again, extending the discarded windbreaker to him.
“It’s a little sticky,” she warns as she hands the jacket back to him. Peter’s eyes wandered down to her shirt.
“Oh, look, you’re ‘Dino-Soaring!’” He chuckled, the low, throaty kind that says he’s holding back an actual laugh.
“I’m always Dino-Soaring.” Her laugh accompanies his. His lips curl up in another smile.
“Do you wanna get something to drink? I can promise this one won’t end up on you,” he suggested, holding that same grin.
“Alright.” Her nod makes his lips quirk up higher. In a reverse of moments prior, he leads her down the stairs and to the kitchen when the sticky remnants of the spill have dried to the floor.
“What’s your poison?” He asked as he tucked the windbreaker under his arm.
“Just Coke—I think I’m gonna tap out for tonight.” Her eyes travel over the sticky floor and the stained shirt in her hands.
“Two Cokes, coming up,” Peter nodded. Two red cans are procured from the fridge in an instant.
“Thanks,” she hummed as she took the drink from his hands, “And thanks for the shirt, too. It really would’ve sucked to have to wait until I’m home to change.”
“Don’t mention it.” He waved her off, cracking open the tab of the Coke.
“Living in a frat must be…sticky.” She can’t seem to peel her eyes off the spilled patch of beer.
“Sometimes,” Peter chuckled, “But it’s not all bad. I get to give out dinosaur shirts.”
“Oh, don’t tell me that I’m not the first girl to ever Dino-Soar around these parts,” she gasped in mock surprise.
“No, no, trust me, I’ve never seen someone Dino-Soar quite like you,” he grinned in reply. He liked her. She was a little awkward, but so was he. He liked her smile, her laugh. He’d probably like her name, too, if she would ever give it to him.
“You never told me what your name is.” His head cocked to the side in a questioning manner. Her expression twisted in a way that told him she knew that was coming.
“That’s right,” she hummed, “Never told you it. Before I do, can I ask you something?”
“Shoot,” he nodded approvingly.
“Do you not recognize me?” Her lips curled in a small smile, “Peter, we’ve had classes together since freshman year—and not just the lecture hall ones, like, the ones where there’s only twelve people in the room. It’s sort of a statistical marvel. I’m honestly less offended and way more impressed that you don’t know me.”
The words hit him like a semi-truck. Really? She’d been in his classes? She had to be joking—no, she wasn’t joking, the look on her face told him that much. He immediately searched through his memory for her face, combing through classes. Peter never took himself as someone with a bad memory, but he was starting to change his mind. She had to be lying—she wasn’t lying.
“You’re—”
“Where have you been? What the hell are you wearing?” He’s interrupted by another voice. Sliding onto the scene (and effectively ruining Peter’s chances of salvaging the situation into a hookup) is a girl with puffy red hair. Freckles dot her olive skin and scrunch with her as she brings her nose up.
“Long story,” Dino-Soaring Girl responds with a smile, the one she’d been giving to Peter only a moment ago.
“Okay, okay, we’ll come on,” the redhead grasped her arm gently, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Liv threw up after doing a Jägerbomb and we’re gonna head out. I don’t wanna leave without you.”
“The power of Jägerbombs,” Dino-Soaring Girl shook her head. Before she was dragged off, she turned to Peter for one last look.
“See you in class?” She suggested with a smile. He didn’t get to respond before she was gone, the redhead threading through the masses of people. Peter watched her go, unsure whether he should be confused or smiling. He chose the latter.
Peter Parker wasn’t dumb, but he was stupid. And, he was out of a dinosaur t-shirt.
#peter parker#tasm peter parker#spiderman#tasm spiderman#peter parker x reader#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#tasm! peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker x y/n#frat!peter#frat!peter parker#frat!peter x reader#frat!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter imagine#tasm#frat#spiderman x reader
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crush | peter parker
pairing/au: college au – frat!peter parker x female!reader
summary: you accidently learn peter parker's secret
warnings: swearing, fwb relationship
word count: 1.2k
a/n: trying my hand at frat!peter parker since it’s the new craze with a little ficlet lmao. i don’t know what i’m doing and i had no plot or plan for this. i’ve set the pairing as female!reader, but it can be read as gn!reader. i’ve only done it like that in case i would want to write more for this later. anyways happy reading <3
main masterlist / ao3
Peter’s bedroom window moaned and complained as Peter pushed it open. He was tempting fate, but what else was new. The music coming from downstairs vibrated through the brick underneath his hand. Climbing through the window, he hit the floor with a soft thump!
The summer had been long, dank and sweaty, but now the evenings had started to bite. Living at the frat throughout the summer had made Peter lonely. His frat brothers all jetted away – scattered like dice across the world – while Peter stayed put in the old brick house.
The frat house was made for noise, not silence, he’d realized after a few weeks. Every noise he made amplified somehow, like the house fed on the sounds. He’d never noticed how loud his footsteps was; or how the clicking of the metal spoon against his coffee mug bounced against the wall, until he was alone. It was unsettling, and wrong. The music that now moved under the floorboard, and the sounds of people over it, put Peter at ease. With the start of the new fall semester, and his brothers finally back, the house was fed again.
Peter never saw himself in a fraternity. He was working on a degree in biophysics trying to balance classes with his late-night vigilantism – he didn’t exactly have much free time. But he’d kinda just fell into it. One night when he’d missed Uncle Ben too much, he’d fallen down a baseball rabbit hole on Youtube. He watched pitcher reels, and top ten craziest moments, and had gotten a ridiculous idea. He tried out for the baseball team at ESU – careful to not to run too fast or hit the baseball out the park – but still they’d wanted him. Peter Parker, a recovering nerd, played college baseball. One thing had led to another, and soon enough he’d been accepted into Zeta Kappa – the captain of the baseball team’s fraternity.
With a sigh Peter pulled off his mask, he was dead tired. He’d had to cut tonight’s patrol short after running out of webs. Everything had been just a little too much lately and he’d forgotten to make new web fluid for his web shooters. After a failed attempt at swinging down a crowded street, he’d fallen face down on a busy street.
He’d played it off as smoothly as possible, hiding the bruise to his ego as he’d instead interacted with some of the passers-by. Spider-Man had handed out lots of high fives tonight. Climbing the wall of some building he’d had to run across the roofs of New York city to get back home. He was exhausted to say the least, dying to feel the softness of his bedsheets against his skin.
Waltzing over to his desk, he rummaged through one of the drawers for his emergency stash of web fluid. Occupied with refilling his web shooters, he missed the creak of the floorboard behind him.
“Holy shit!”
Frozen dead in his tracks, fear sank to his stomach. He didn’t know what to do; if he turned around, he’d be busted, but he couldn’t turn his back forever – he couldn’t do that to you, could he?
His eyes flicked to the corkboard over his desk, to the polaroid he’d taken of you only a few weeks ago after you’d convinced him to go take you swimming. You’d begged and whined, “Peter! Please, please, pretty please!” and he’d folded. It had been the last real day of summer, and together you’d snuck into one of those fancy hotels with a rooftop pool. As soon as you’d dipped your feet in the water, a big smile spread across your face, a smile that, to Peter’s horrifying realization, had tugged on his heartstrings.
It was supposed to be casual, the thing between the two of you, just something so you both could fill that void inside screaming out for intimacy. Peter didn’t have time for a relationship. This was perfect, almost.
“Peter?”
Your voice was barely a whisper, almost cautious, like he was a shaking bunny you were afraid of scaring. His head fell, eyes scanning over the worn wood of his desk. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d told himself he was gonna keep you at arm’s length, not in the crook.
“Don’t tell anyone, please.” The words fell from his lips, a coldness coating them.
He could feel you move behind him, light feet shuffling with nervousness. “I won’t, Peter, I won’t– I swear!”
With a sigh, Peter turned around. He looked you up and down. You were dressed nicely – dressed for the party howling downstairs. He tried to ignore the way you looked at him. It always hit him too hard, made him want to crush your lips with his own, wrap himself up in you and never untangle. You were dangerous.
“I’m sorry… I looked for you at the party but couldn’t find you– so then I figured I’d wait for you in your room, and…” you trailed off, the rest was self-explanatory.
With a huff Peter started moving about his room. He pulled some sweats from his closet and vanished through the door to the bathroom. It was like he needed to get rid of the evidence. He couldn’t talk to you before it was gone. Back inside his bedroom, he ignored the way you sat at the edge of his bed, hands folded in your lap. He put his suit away, hiding it in the back of his closet.
“Let’s forget about this,” he turned around to look at you, a mistake. He watched the way your body sank into the mattress, mirroring the way his heart sank in his chest as he uttered his next words, “and maybe we should just forget about everything else.”
Your face was hard to decipher, it shuffled through an arrangement of emotions: confusion, hurt, anger. All the same emotions Peter tried to hold back.
“I…” you tried to say, “a-are you sure, I mean–”
“I’m sure,” Peter stressed, “this didn’t mean anything right? It was just sex…”,
“Right,” you nodded slowly, like you were still processing, “it was just sex.”
“It didn’t mean anything.” The words felt like they were stuck in the back of his throat.
The look you gave him, cut him across his chest, sliced away at his skin until it reached his heart. “Let’s not pretend it did…”
“No, let’s not,” you glared at him, and Peter could feel a pressure behind his eyes.
“And don’t say anything about me and…” he cocked his head in the direction of his closet, “If anyone knew you knew– it would put you in danger and I don’t want to put you in danger.” It was probably the most honest thing he’d said to you all night.
You rolled your eyes at him, and quickly stood to your feet. He watched how you clenched and unclenched your fist, keeping your quiet rage under control. You shook your head in disbelief, probably wondering why you’d wasted so many months of your life on a loser like him.
Peter hated to do this to you. He wanted only your love. To live with it inside and give his love to you. But that was a selfish thought. He couldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t love you the way you deserved.
One lonely tear escaped you, and it broke Peter’s heart.
“You know what,” you tried to hiss but the sadness in your voice dimmed the bite, “Fuck you, Peter!”
Gathering yourself, you gave him one last look before you slammed the door in his face.
i hope you liked this! <3 please let me know what you thought of this little story. i would love to hear them in the tags, or a comment or through my ask box! <3
tags: @hollandweather
#peter parker#tom holland#andrew garfield#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfic#peter parker angst#frat!peter parker#college au#university au#tom holland x reader#andrew garfield x reader#*writing
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frat!Peter Parker, you’re living in my mind. rent free...
#andrew garfield#living in my head rent free#frat!peter#frat!peter parker#i’m completely addicted to frat!peter#peterparker fanfic#thank you writers#mainstream 2020#link#link mainstream#alexander goodrich#no one special#peter parker#spider man#the amazing spider man#tasm#tasm peter parker#tasm peter#andrew peter parker#andrew peter#gif#sincericida
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Frat Boys-Frat Peter Parker X Reader Smut
Summary- Your girl's officially a college student, let's get a little Frat boy action, and just for my bestie @emma-cantmakeuphermind, we'll do peter parker.
Warnings-Protected Sex (DON'T BE SILLY WRAP YOUR WILLY), Choking, Hair Pulling, Cursing, Oral (M&F Receiving)
It is a little short, I apologize.
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"Oh, hey, you guys made it." Katy smiles as she opens the door to the fraternity. We follow her in as she steps further into the frat house. "Everyone this is Y/n, and-" She trails off, looking at my two friends I brought.
"Oh, this is Mia and Taylor." I signal to my friends. We follow Katy into the living room and sit down. I spot this cute boy on one of the couches and smile at him. "Can I sit next to you?"
"Yeah," He smiles as he slides over to let me sit with him. I give a small glance to Taylor, and her giving a knowing smile back.
"Katy, who is this?" I whisper to her.
"Oh, that's Peter." She winks.
I sit on my phone, secretly sneaking glances at Peter. I feel a little sad as he walks away. My mood quickly changes as Katy gets up, dancing to the music. I follow suit, joining her. I let the music take control of my body, swaying my hips with her on my back. She backs up a little and I notice Peter walking up again, I grab his hand, letting him get behind me. I smirk as his hands find their way to my hips and pull me closer. The song ends and we sit down again.
"Wanna go upstairs?" He smirks.
"I'm good with that." He nods in response and mumbles 'I'll be back.' He returns a few minutes later and grabs my hand. I follow him upstairs and into a room. I pull out the condom from my purse that I keep for emergencies. I hand it to him as I drop to my knees.
"Fuck." He groans as I pull his shorts and boxers down, freeing his already hardening member. I put him in my mouth, laying my tongue flat so that it brushes the bottom of his cock as I take all of him. I continue my movements until I'm sure he's completely hard. I stand up, smirking as he turns me around and bends me over the bed. He unzips my boots, discarding them on the floor. I take a deep breath as I feel his fingertips brush against the back of my thigh, pulling my dress up. He slides my panties to the side and I feel his tip at my entrance. I push myself and whine when he grips my hip, stopping me.
"Please." I plead. He slides in and pain rushes through me from the stretch. He starts at a slow pace, quickly speeding up. Moans fill the room as he grabs my hair, bottoming out in every stroke.
"What's my name?" His hand releases my hair, pushing his hand on my back to make my arch deeper.
"Fuck, Daddy." I moan in response.
"Good girl." He leans forward, grabbing my throat when he does.
"Fuck, I'm gonna-" My words are cut short as he releases my neck, snaking his hand under me and between my thighs. He applies pressure to my clit, rubbing in circles and sending me barreling over the edge as I cum. He follows suit, cumming and pulling out.
"Don't move." He trashes the condom and I stay in the same position. I hear him shuffling behind me and I inhale sharply as his tongue flattens and licks a clean stripe up my slit.
"Shit." I whimper as his tongue prods at my entrance.
"I just wanted to taste you." He stands up and helps me get up. He helps me put my boots back on, fixing the laces and zipping them back up. I grab his hoodie off the bed, slipping it on.
"I'm keeping this."
"You should it looks good on you. You should definitely let me get your number so we can do this again." I smile, taking his phone from him and typing my number. He leads me down the stairs and the silence fades away as the music rings through the first floor of the house.
#frat!peter#peter parker#Frat!peter parker#peter parker smut#peter#parker#spiderman#spiderman smut#x reader#x reader smut#peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader smut#frat! smut#smut#frat! peter smut#frat!peter parker smut
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I adore you! can you do Frat Peter and his frat brothers sneak into a sorority to steal undies, the girls no and their is a commotion, Peter ducks into a single bedroom not realizing a girl from one of his classes is their in just a shirt and panties. He is bashful and very sweet. he asks for a pair of underwear and she offers the ones she's wearing, Peter takes them off they are a little damp and he is flattered. he has some time to spare he gets naked and they have sex, thanks!
ooo i love this! i just wrote it and i honestly really like it.
it will be out today!!
read panty stealer now!
#peter parker#mcu peter parker#frat!peter parker#peter parker smut#peter parker fluff#peter parker fanfics#peter parker fanfiction#tom holland#tom holland smut#tom holland fan fiction#tom holland fanfics#peter parker x you#tom holland x you#peter parker x reader#tom holland x reader
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PETER TAKING CARE OF DRUNK!READER PLS
You’re Drunk, And He’s In Love
--genre + trope: FLUFF, sfw.
--pairing: frat!tasm!peter parker x college!gn!reader
--word count: 0.9k
--warnings: mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, reader throws up (womp womp), the smallest angst ever (still wondering if angst is even in this...), FLUFF, peter loves reader so much!!!
A loud thump shocks Peter out of his relaxed state, the sound coming from downstairs. Knowing that no one is home, he makes his way out of his room. Ascending the stairs, he’s silent, waiting to see if he can hear the noise again. Hearing nothing, he twists the lock and pulls the fraternity’s front door open.
A quick glance outside proves that there is nothing, but then he looks down. There you are, lying across the doorstep, a drunken smile written all across your face. Looking up through your eyelashes your eyes light up at the sight of your boyfriend, “Hi, Petey!”
He squats down to grasp under your arms. Pulling you up, he wonders where all this sudden dead weight came from. Once you’re standing (more like leaning), he finally greets you, “Hey, bug. What are you doing here?”
“I was at this party over there,” you point behind you, “and then…I realized that I’d be having way more fun with you, so…I walked over, and now I’m here!”
Throughout your rambling he closed the door behind you, starting to make his way up the stairs with you by his side. Following your last sentence, he stops dead in his tracks, “Wait, how far did you walk?”
“Uhh, I-I’m not sure…but, I made it,” your memory is spotty. If you were sober, you could’ve heard how Peter’s question was more serious than you realized. Oblivious, it passes over your head.
He decides to let it go, choosing to focus on your current state, “C’mon let’s go to bed, bug.” Wobbly nodding your head, you follow Peter’s lead up the stairs and to his room.
Falling back onto the familiar sheets of his bed, you mentally declare that this is heaven on earth. You bask in the feeling, even in your hazy state, you know for a fact that you want to stay here forever if you could. Your bliss is interrupted by a very cold cloth on your face. Apparently, your confusion is quite apparent in your features, as a breathy chuckle escapes Peter’s lips.
“If I didn’t do this you would be so pissed at me in the morning. You don’t need to be angry and have a hangover,” Peter is quickly pleading his case as you open your eyes to see him bunch up a, now dirty, makeup wipe in his hands. Tossing it in the trash, he stands and makes his way to his dresser, rummaging through an extensive collection of shirts. When he finally finds one, he tosses it on the bed next to you, walking back to you shortly after to stand between your legs that have been hanging off the bed.
He extends his hands towards you, even going so far as to wiggle his fingers, hoping that his actions will convince you to sit up, “Do you want to stay in your clothes, or do you want to actually get comfortable?”
You groan as you lift your arms up to grab his hands. As soon as you make contact with his touch, he wastes no time in pulling you up to meet his chest. Still holding your hands, he kneels down to start undoing your shoes. Now that you’re sitting up, the spins hit you, and they hit you hard.
Peter has been looking down, working at your shoes when he feels a hand slap down on his shoulder. He looks up immediately, his face plagued with concern, “You alright, baby?” Your other hand rises to hold your mouth as you shake your head, and that is all Peter needs to rush you to his bathroom.
The sight is far from pretty, but Peter doesn’t care. He’s holding your hair up with one hand as his other is making slow circles on your back, letting you spill tonight's contents into the toilet bowl.
You haven’t been there for a long time. The feeling of nausea passes after a good five minutes. Originally Peter was just going to get you changed and bring you to bed, but now he knows that you need a hot shower to wash off the feeling of being sick from your mind and your body.
He reaches over to flush the toilet before carefully lowering the toilet seat cover and pulling you off your knees to sit on the ceramic, brushing the tears that escaped your eyes off your warm cheeks, “Let’s get you in the shower, my love.”
Everything Peter does, he does it with care. Especially when it came to you.
While in the shower with you, he knows that in the morning you’ll be extremely apologetic and embarrassed. But what he also knows is that he’d do that one hundred times again just to know that you’re safe. He can’t imagine what it would’ve been like if you hadn’t come to him tonight. It honestly scares the shit out of him at the thought of you being this vulnerable at a party, alone.
He knows that you can handle yourself, there’s no doubt about it. He can see you brushing off your feelings just for the sake of not ruining the party.
He almost prides himself in the thought of you feeling this comfortable around him, because there isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for you. So when you wake up and ask him to grab an Advil for your killer headache, he’ll do it in a heartbeat.
--author's note: honestly, i love a good drunk!reader or drunk!peter fic. there's nothing like caring for someone despite their drunkenness. i keep writing everyone to be slightly sassy...LMAO. WHOOPSIE!!! thank you for liking, commenting, and reblogging!!! my asks/inbox is opennnn, so send in requests if you feel like it babes. ok, bye ily<33
#fluff#marvel#andrew garfield peter parker#peter parker#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#college au#frat!peter#frat!peter parker#peter parker fluff#peter parker fanfiction
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banner made by: @thursdaygxrls
(yes, i reposted this. i needed to edit the dates. thank you to those who will re-reblog and re-like.)
it's finally here. a major quick thank you for all the love and patience everyone has shown me over this series. i hope it's worth the wait.
word count: 11k.
it's getting real now...
CHAPTER TWO: MASTERMIND
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE
Chistine Kiko just handed you an eighth of mushrooms and you weren’t one to disappoint. Even if it was your first time. “My fucking dad wouldn’t let me do anything in the Hamptons. I literally only had my dab pen and coke. Like, what kind of person does that?”
They taste like fucking shit, Christine licked her pudgy fingers dry while you were gagging between chews. “He sounds,” baby barf, “like a monster.” She doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm, “thank you! Everyone said I was being dramatic too, glad to know I can rely on you.”
You cough on the last swallow, Christine patted at your back, a red solo cup pushed in your hand. “Drink. I mean, he bossed me around all summer too. He thinks I wanna be like him, like, try that with your other kids?” You pull the cup down, “you’re an only child?”
Christine shrugs, “it’s never too late.” You hum while you finish the mixture, it was ultra sweet, you assume it was full of booze. “So, basically, you’re gonna have a super fun time and I will totally be here for you if you need me, but I have friends to see, ya know?”
It’s a nice way of saying she will absolutely not be around if you need her. You stop her with a hand on her wrist, “wait, how long until this hits? Will I know?” Christine smirks, “about an hour, give or take. Ride the wave and pick a bed to land in.”
You’re alone for an entire two minutes, just enough time to get your own cup of jungle juice, the same mixture as Christine’s, before an arm drops around your shoulders. The voice alone makes you want to eat sand, you just know he’s about to say something stupid.
With his girlfriend in tow, blonde hair whips towards you, a snotty smirk, “did you see Harvey yet?” It takes everything in you not to wack his arm. “No, not yet.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s going to love your top.” You huff at him, “this wasn’t even the shirt Ally wanted me to wear, so, fuck you!” Matt holds a hand to his chest, “I am in a committed relationship, and even if I wasn’t, ew.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, blondie. I’ve seen cuter rats.” He narrows his eyes, “I will pray for evil to find you.” Ally gasps, “Matty, no.”
Holding a middle finger up, your eyes wander around the room until you zone in on Harvey resting against the staircase, a gleam of light hits his wrist, silver dances in your eyes.
Harvey must have felt you, his chin rises in a poor excuse for a nod. You flash a four finger wave, raising your cup to your mouth when he starts laughing with a friend. Matt pokes your elbow at the interaction, “what kind of dress are you wearing to the wedding?”
You grin, “I’m not sure yet, I don’t wanna clash with Ally.” You turn to her, “we both can’t wear white, right?”
“Hey, hey, hey, if anyone’s going to marry Ally it’s me, and it’ll be in a church so you’ll either sit it out or burn.”
Checking your phone you nibble at your lip, thirty eight minutes. Trent’s nowhere to be found, you need to start looking. And subtly. You take a step back, pretending to be interested in a fake text. “Give me five minutes, I need to make a call.” Ally’s quick to give the go ahead, “okay, text me if you can’t find us!”
Thirty seven minutes. Your shoulder hits a freshman’s, jungle juice splashes on the hardwood; spilling out an apology you step over the puddle. A boy you haven’t seen before smiles at you, if you weren’t on a mission, you’d be saying hello.
You loop by the garage, heart stuttering when you capture Peter and Ethan playing a game of beer pong. Trent wasn’t there, your last hope and prayer was in the backyard.
Surrounded by rose bushes, the chapter president had his lips wrapped around a cigarette. The red glow lit his cheeks up on the inhale, two girls and another guy with him, you think you shared a class with one of the girls last year.
Trent catches your eyes, it’s clear you both don’t want anyone to know what’s going on. He directed his gaze towards your phone, a hand moved around in his pocket before he produced his own.
You stare at your home screen, expecting the message any second. It comes when you move back inside.
‘Use the backstairs, my room is on the left at the end of the hall.’
‘Give me five minutes.’
Thirty two minutes, you don’t have any time to waste. Your feet hit the stairs.
Trent’s room is messy and terribly decorated. Clothes covered the floor, empty bowls and plates scattered across his desk, a still sweating, sealed water bottle makes you smack your lips. How tempting.
A string of flags, a political one that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, a ‘Saturdays are for the boys’ one, and a black and white american flag. The trio makes you roll your eyes, it seems very fitting for his personality. No shoe has a matching partner in the entire room, you’re scared to think of what might be under his bed.
You don’t feel safe or comfortable enough to sit on it either, it’s unmade and with a noticeable and questionable looking stain. He does have a couch though, and it looks very, very comfortable. It feels like you’d sink right in. It’s not enticing enough, you don’t trust it.
You check your phone again, it’s been five minutes and it could be the liquor, but you feel a slight wobble. Twenty three minutes until blast off Trent slides through a small crack in the door, your arms cross defensively. “I know you’re not fucking me, but you can at least pretend to care about my time.”
“Wrong. I wouldn’t care about you, even if you were fucking me.” He proudly takes a seat at his desk, he offers you nothing. A smug look rolls over, “you’ve built it up long enough, what do you need from me?”
The sooner it’s over, the better. “My friends and I have a bet on your potential new members, if the person I pick makes it through recruitment, I win. I need you to make sure I win.”
Trent’s facade slips, even just for a millisecond. “One more time, and I need you to be very clear on it, alright?”
Were you slurring your words? You try to speak clearer. “I know someone who’s going to pledge, and I promise you he has no involvement in this, but I need him to be recruited so I can win some money. All I need is for you to make sure I win and they don’t.”
A brief pause, Trent looks sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that.” You cut him off, he accepted the terms last Friday, and again when you sent over copies of your- Noa’s hard discoveries.
“No, no, Trent, you did. You said anything I needed, and I need this.”
“If you would’ve told me what you needed, you would’ve known I couldn’t help you.”
“This is bullshit, I’ll start singing from the rooftops about your payoff.”
“No, you won’t. I’m the president, so I get final say on who we fully recruit-” You roll your eyes, “I know.”
“- but I don’t get to choose who makes it past rush, you need a member to bid on a pledge. You need someone to big brother him, I can’t do that. If I get involved it becomes dirty rushing, and that is the biggest ‘no no’ to exist.”
You slump, everything comes crashing down. “So… you can’t even pull rank here?” Trent shakes his head, “absolutely not.”
“So this was all for nothing?”
“If you can find a member to bid on him, you have my promise he’ll make it, and I’ll cut whoever you need so you can win. That’s it.”
You’re at a loss, you have no other member you could ask. Matt could never keep a secret, you didn’t know Ethan well enough and there was no way in hell you’d ask- “Want my advice? Parker is your best bet.”
You shake your head wildly, it takes a moment for your mind to click back into place. “You really want to involve someone else into this? You know what’s at stake, right?” You’re hinting at his secret, Trent shrugs.
“If anyone is going to know about it, I’d want it to be Parker. He can keep a secret and has no issue in playing dirty if he’s in on it.” You’re suddenly very thirsty, you keep licking your lips for moisture.
“He doesn’t know who I am.” Not a total lie.
“Then introduce yourself.”
You shouldn’t have to do anything, he’s the one not making good on his promise. You made good on your end and in return he’s barely lifting a finger. Maybe it had something to do with not wanting Peter involved due to fear of judgment. Or, maybe he’d be impressed like Trent.
If you wanted Peter to be a conquest, it couldn’t start by you asking for a favor. That was friend behavior, and you wanted to be anything but friends. This was Trent’s problem, not yours. He doesn’t understand that you can make things difficult for him if he backs out.
Your tongue is thick and you need water. You have no time for this.
“Listen, Trent. This is your problem. I held up my end of the bargain, and you have to do yours. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re going to pledge Isaac Barns. If you don’t, I’ll turn shit around and make this the dirty frat, the frat that cheated for first place.”
Trent held a clenched jaw, you saw nothing but fury in his eyes. “We’ll figure something out. No need to get mouthy.” If you had more time you’d entertain his comment, but it’s clear he’d figure something out.
You eye the plastic water bottle next to him, snatching it from the side. “And I’m taking this, talk to me when you have a plan, Simpson!” When his door slams shut, it rings in your ears.
You feel every muscle in your legs move while you walk, and within minutes it seemed like everything got brighter. A vibration washes down the back of your thigh, you slap around, it’s your phone. A single text.
‘friend?’
You’ve been missing too long, one way to stop the questions.
‘Finding Harvey…’ the response was a keyboard smash.
Blinking harsh, the room feels like it’s blending together. You’ve never felt this way, it’s like the entire house is moving underneath your feet. The floor waves you into the crowd, everything feels like it’s slow motion, yet sped up at the same time.
“Hey!” You don’t know who it is, it’s a stranger, his voice sounds distorted. You shake your head clear, and step right by him. You’re on a mission and can’t be sidetracked, things are hitting quickly and you need to find Harvey to explain plans have taken a very sharp left.
A spin of bodies, you find one that stands out. You catch her shoulders.
“Lindsey!” You fight for the words, they’re like butter. “Have you seen Harvey Guyn?”
She’s fucking plastered, a slur of letters string out. “... hall.. wine… yeah! haha…” A gasp when she sees a friend across the house, you’re forgotten in a second. Putting your faith in her, you take careful steps, slapping your hands on the wine closet and tugging it open.
“Harvey! You in here? Lindsey said you were-” there was no chance to finish, Harvey was busy doing it for you. His head was thrown back on the wall tiles, a guttural moan ripped from his throat. Wrapped around his fist was a tight hold of black hair, to help Christine Kiko keep his dick swallowed down.
“Oh shit,” you slam the door on them, standing in shock for a few seconds. It wasn’t about him hooking up with her, he could do what he wanted. But it wasn’t everyday you saw something like that in person, and you had to give credit to Christine, she was taking it like a champ.
It gave you an out for the night, you were too high for anything but breathing.
Thank god for Christine Kiko. And really bless her for catching up with you in record time spurting apologies while wiping her mouth clean. “I know, I know, you guys were hooking up, but-”
You stop her sorry, “how’d you know?” She rakes her long nails through her hair to untangle it, it comes out clean instantly. “My dad is super simping for his dad and we vacationed together this year so he had me try and make Harvey happy so he could tell his dad they should do business.”
Christine has no idea how fucked up that sounds, “what would he have done if you were his son?” She doesn’t miss a beat, “Harvey swings both ways, doesn’t he?”
Music shakes your feet, Christine’s hair looks soft. It’s black and pin-straight, you reach out, you comb your fingers through without a hint of struggle. “Wow, you take such good care of your hair.”
“Rice water, you’re welcome.” She looks back at the door, “I need some things to finish up, but um, you feeling alright? It looks like it’s settling in.” It is. You’re busy twisting the cap on your water bottle, the small ridges skate across your thumb to create a soothing repetition. “Yeah.”
It makes her smile, “yeah? You should go outside, the trees look fucking awesome, even when it’s dark.” You thank her for the idea, and stand still for a little too long after Christine retreats back to the wine closet. You think it’s your brain trying to remember how to walk, you blame the bass reverberating off the flooring.
The second you’re able to actually pick your feet up, you move three steps before noticing it feels like you have lead boots on. You clomp towards the couches, perched on the side, sitting pretty, was your best friend.
Making eye contact, you replay what just happened. You can’t stop it, it’s uncontrollable, bubbling from your throat, you laugh. Loudly. The longer you laugh, the more intense it gets. Ally has no idea what’s going on, but you assume the giggle is contagious.
“What! Tell me!” You’re trying, but you can’t catch your breath. Each time you try to push more than two words out, you’re back to laughing so hard your shoulders shake. There’s only one reason you’re finding this so funny, you try to collect yourself. “I…” Another round, Ally’s right with you; you think she’s just excited to see what’s got you so giddy.
“Okay, okay. Christine Kiko gave me some shrooms, and they, like, just hit. Also, I just caught her sucking Harvey’s dick.” Ally sputters, “what?!” A hand covers her mouth, the imagery catching up to her. “Oh my god!” You nod, she said it better than you could. “And you saw this?!” It’s like the idea is unbelievable to her. “Uh huh, right in front of me.”
Ally presses the hand covering her mouth, to her cheek. A moment of silence, until she starts to laugh just like you did. You almost copy, until she stops and gives you an ironclad look, “wait, did you say mushrooms?”
You pretend your mind is exploding. “I’m experiencing things I couldn’t explain right now.” Ally’s hair looks almost as soft as Christine’s. You grab a thick piece, breaking it into thirds and start to braid. It feels like rope, your fingers turn into a ball of yarn, fumbling into one useless clump.
“Are you okay? Matty and I were about to go upstairs.” Your eyes flash towards the stairs on instinct, then you're back at her. “Coming back down?” Ally grins and sends you a wink, “not if I give him a reason not to.” She drops her grin, “unless you need company, in that case, I’m here for you.”
Just because you chose to spend your night tripping, it doesn’t mean Ally has to ditch bedtime with her boyfriend. Wouldn’t that be an incredibly selfish thing to do? “I don’t need a trip sitter, I have myself. And Christine. Also, have you seen Prince?”
“Uh, no. He went off with Rocco the second we got here.” Rocco, the second you hear his name, you think of his hair, how does one achieve an afro? Would it be wrong to ask?
“Cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt.” Ally eyes you, she’s trying to make sure you’re fully okay before she pulls Matt upstairs. You flash a smile, it’s enough to have her drop her shoulders in relief. “You always have me, you know where I’ll be.”
“And I am so, so grateful for you, Ally Storm.” Because, you are. In your opinion, mushrooms make you emotional. You went from laughing to appreciative in one minute, suddenly you’re hugging your best friend while holding back tears. “You are so kind, and patient, and nice, and, like, so super supportive to me.”
Ally squeezes you right back, “you should do drugs more often, I’m loving the praise.” You pull back to wink at her, “it’s only cause you’re so great. Go do your boyfriend, since I can’t get any tonight.”
“You think sex on shrooms would be good?” The idea hadn’t occurred, but thinking about it makes you agree with her. “Sex on hallucinogens? That’s boyfriend behavior.” Ally pats your arm, “next time, invite me. I’ll let you know how it is.”
A twinkle in her eye appears, you dread what’s about to happen. “Sup, slugger?” The arm around you is entirely too heavy, but oddly comforting. Like a weighted blanket. “She took mushrooms.” You nod, Matt rubs your shoulder, you almost purr. “Having fun?” Normally, you have a love hate relationship with Matt. You both love to hate each other, but not seriously. Not that it’s been said, but you know Matt would protect you with anything in him if needed.
Tonight, right now, Matt is a solid force. “Permission to hug?” Ally’s eyes widen, she almost doubles down on the sentiment of doing drugs more often. “You wanna full on, front touch me?” Nevermind, Matt just ruined it, like he ruins everything. “Not anymore, you ruined it.”
“Oh, no, no, no. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Before you can try and dodge it, Matt’s got you in his hold. It’s very obvious he’s doing it for the pure enjoyment of annoying you, it’s almost endearing. Almost. You’d fight better at shoving him away but he’s got a warmth radiating from his chest and into yours.
Peter watches you bump hips across the room with Paul’s girlfriend, your fingers pull at her hair. A wild look crosses her face, two of you giggling.
“I didn’t know she was Ally’s friend.” Ethan scratches at his arm, Peter’s guard goes up. He knows why he’s surprised to know you were the friend in question, he doesn’t know why Ethan thinks so too.
Ethan shrugs and asks Peter about something, he can’t focus. “You know her?”
“Yeah, that’s my bio girl.”
Peter felt constricted, he doesn’t know why. “Wait, what? That’s my freshman.”
Ethan stares at the side of Peter’s head. “She’s not a freshman.” Peter sneers at his friend, “yeah, no shit.” Ethan kisses his teeth, “I invited her to the party.” He doesn’t know why, but Peter feels slightly challenged.
“So did I.” His arms cross over his chest, he mumbles the rest. “On the first day.”
“Funny. When I asked she said she had no plans.”
Peter can feel his jaw clench, he wants to kind of fucking punch him, if he’s being honest. And that makes him even more upset, because why is he so threatened? Ethan may have an inkling that his best friend wants you more than he does, but he also wants him to know he could have competition.
“Funny.” It’s clear Peter did not find it funny.
“She’s cool. You know, witty, kind, pretty…” Peter’s doing what he can to keep himself from walking away, he wants to scream that he had eyes on you first. But that’s an insane thought, only one that could be casted by a witch.
“She’s difficult and entitled.”
All Ethan hears is ‘she’s fucking perfect for me.’ And his mind was made up, you were no longer someone he’d pursue. You’re all Parker’s, because he wants you. Even if he won’t admit it, yet.
“So, you have no issue with me moving in on that?” Peter’s a little too quiet, choosing to nurse on his beer in hand. “Do what you want, man.” He finishes his drink, he looks back up at you, sharing a warm embrace with Paul.
“Cause, I don’t mind leaving it alone, if you want.” It takes a second, but Peter lightly shrugs. No words needed to be said, it told Ethan everything he needed to know. “You saw her first, it’s only fair.” It’s tiny, and it’s a microflash, but Peter grinned. What was understood, didn’t need to be explained.
Heavy steps found themselves at a familiar face.
“My roommate ditched me and this floor looks like a pirate ship.” You point down for good measure, Ethan’s a good sport and looks with you. “Is it moving?”
You nod quickly, glad he too can see the shifting boards. Ethan’s sweater catches your attention, it looks soft. By default he looks like a teddy bear, you can’t hold yourself back, latching yourself to the cashmere you run your hands over his back.
“It’s so soft.”
Ethan laughs, he has no issue returning the love. You melt under his touch, everything is so warm. “I can feel your hands.” Your lab partner knows exactly what’s going on, “yeah? What’d you take, X?”
You pull back to spread pixie dust from your fingertips, “magic mushrooms.” Lights flash in cohesion with the music, you’re awe at the sharp beauty. Swirls of color cloud your vision, loud bass rings your ears. Vibrations flow from your toes up to your knees, a circle of laughter around you is contagious.
You can’t stop the giggles, you weren’t sure who was laughing or why but it seemed so fitting.
You throw your head back, the room spins and you squeal when your waist is held tight.
“Ethan!” You hug him again, you can’t stop patting his sweater. “Wanna do some shots?” Ethan shakes his head, “no, you want some water.” You stop, “oh my god, yeah, that sounds so good.” Your lower back is nudged, you’re guided into the kitchen where you see a blur of motion.
Stumbling, your back collides into another body. You spin quickly, you can’t believe it’s taken this long to see him.
“Peter, hi!”
Your arms loop around his back, you pull him tight to you and sigh. He’s broader than Ethan, but his shirt can’t match Ethan’s sweater. Peter feels oddly frozen, you shuffle into him further, an awkward pat is granted to the middle of your back. “Hi.”
“No, no, like this.” You fix the placement, it’s like he’s never given a hug in his entire life. Peter’s offering no warmth, it feels like he’s just allowing you to have this moment. You give him an unsure glance when you pull back, “I’ll make you better, don’t worry.”
You’re stopped before you could try and teach Peter a proper hug. “Let’s not hug, Parker.” You blink wildly at your lab partner, before looking back at Peter, he has an unimpressed gaze on Ethan. “No hugs? You don’t like hugs?”
It’s unacceptable, you pull at Ethan’s arm. “Here, show him how it’s done.” Ethan tries to shake his head, you loop around his waist tightly. “See, Peter? This is how you hug.”
“I know how to hug.”
You smile and nudge away from the cashmere, your arms open wide. “Okay, show me.”
“No.”
A frown takes over, since he’s being mean, you can too.
“Fine. I don’t like your haircut, how about that?” Peter lacks the reaction you want him to give, “thank you.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Christine should’ve given you the mushrooms instead, you’re kinda grumpy.”
Ethan pushes you back, “okay, D.A.R.E. Water.” You took the bottle and looked between the two friends. “Be honest, did you guys know they were hooking up?”
Peter furrowed his eyebrows, you had the urge to rub it out. Ethan slapped your hand down. “Who?” You hold a finger up to pause the conversation, water has never tasted so clear.
“Mmm…” you blink awake. “Harvey and Christine. Did you think he wasn’t planning on me finding out? Was he fully prepared to try and bang me after he got head from another girl? Cause, I don’t think so.”
A song you haven’t heard before plays, it sends waves of warmth over your skin.
Ethan shrugs, “sounds like Harvey, yeah.”
You jeer around the plastic bottle, “boo.” Peter’s short circuiting in his brain. You were hooking up with Harvey? The pieces were muddling. His Harvey? That guy sucks. Peter reacts subconsciously, grabbing whatever you handed him. An empty water bottle, you smile, “thanks!” He grunts before tossing it in the kitchen sink.
“This party would be so much better if Taylor Swift was playing.”
It takes everything in Peter not to roll his eyes, Ethan one ups him in a second.
“Which album?”
You gasp, Peter swears he sees a sparkle in your eyes. For a split second he regrets not asking you the same thing. “Any of them! Do you like her too?”
Peter thought his best friend read between the lines from their earlier conversation. He assumes he didn’t.
“She’s alright, I have a few of her vinyls.” Record scratch, Peter just lost you. Your hand grabbed Ethan’s shoulder, you leaned in closer and gave him doe eyes. “No way, I don’t believe you. Which ones?”
Ethan laughs, “I have them in my room, swear to god. I like her sister albums.”
Peter watches your hand slide down his sleeve until you latch around his wrist, “show me.” Ethan shrugs, “alright, we can-” Peter steps in front of him, the path blocked.
“Keznek.” As in, you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, right?
“Parker.” As in, do you really think that low of me?
A third name is brought into the mix, Peter looks down, you’re smiling big at him and for a second he feels like he’s smiling back.
“Who’s that?”
You point at yourself, “me.”
He finally has your name, it’s fitting. He doesn’t think he’s ever thought a name could fit a person, until he heard yours. A weird urge to compliment it tugs at him, he buries it down. Witch.
Attention back on Ethan, “you swear you have them?” He’s almost offended you’d ask, “promise.” You look to Peter, “can you confirm?” Peter sucks in a breath through his teeth, he shakes his head slowly. “I can’t.”
The answer is obvious, “I have to verify, if you’re telling the truth you’ll win cool points forever.” Plan impeded, the chapter president just walked through the kitchen, a gleam in the wolves eye. His hand clapped Peter’s chest, the light abuse caused you to frown.
“Nice to see you’re making friends with Parker.”
You flip the script, a fake smile. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Ethan laughed behind you and was immediately silenced with a harsh glare from Trent. “Watch it, Keznek.” Peter’s face hardened at the tone.
“You’re taking my advice, I love to see it.”
Peter has his eyes on you, it takes strength to ignore it. “Wanna talk about advice? You should play some Taylor Swift.” Trent scoffs, “get fucked.” Peter speaks up before you have a chance, “hey, woah.” The head of the house wasn’t about to be talked to like he was a chapter officer, even if he was. His response was pushing Peter back and walking away.
“I understand why he’s the president,” you watch the room swirl together. “He’s super mature.” Smacking your lips, you blindly reach for Ethan. “Do you see these fucking lights right now?” Peter glances around, it’s the same party lighting they use each time.
“Are they dragging?” You focus in, when you move your head slow trails of light follow. “Yeah, woah.” Peter clears his throat, the sound cupped around your ears. “Your friend here, freshman?” You spin, “who’s friend?”
Peter looks at Ethan for a second, you’re busy trying to pull at a loose thread on Peter’s sleeve. “How are you getting home tonight?” You twirl the strand around your finger, the tension snaps it. When the blood returns to your fingertip, it warms your entire hand.
“Dunno yet. I’ll figure it out later.” You look down at your feet, they seem like they’re a million miles away from you. The floor shifts underneath you, it makes your knees shake, you clutch Ethan’s arm to balance yourself. “Pirate ship?” You nod, “ahoy, matey.”
Peter shifts when you take him in, more or less just focused on his face. He stands a little taller, then questions it, because why would he care about how tall you perceived him to be? “Peter,” he waits. Pointing behind you, “wanna do a shot? Ethan refused, like he hates me or something.” You can’t stop looking at him, the lights dance over his face, casting him in an angelic glow like no other.
“You think mixing shots with mushrooms is a good idea?” You move around, like your body couldn’t stand holding still. “Just one.” One wouldn’t hurt, and it’s not like he’s doing it for you or anything, he planned on having a shot anyways. You were just another person to pour for.
“Sure. Pick the poison.” You answer quickly, an honest response. “Rat.” Ethan starts to laugh and it’s contagious, you start giggling too. You don’t know why he’s laughing, but it feels good to have someone to laugh with. Peter tilts his head to the ceiling with a heavy sigh, “no, freshman. I meant booze.”
“Oh! Not vodka, I hate vodka, I can taste it in anything, even when Ally mixes it with Hawaiian Punch. So, please never give me vodka. I hate it.”
Peter smirks at Ethan, “so, vodka?” You sputter, you wonder if you confused love and hate in your speech. You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no, Peter. I hate vodka, please don’t give me any.”
Ethan slides a bottle down to Peter, it’s a party classic. Peter waits on you, “this good enough for you, princess?” It was sarcastic as all hell, but it still made you feel warm and fuzzy. “Yes, prince.” Peter just shook his head while he poured them up.
Raised glasses, you wait for the toast. “Here’s to A’s, C’s, and double D’s.” The words made you send a glare to Peter, it seemed like he was waiting for it. “You know, like grades?” It’s not what he meant, all three of you knew it, but you couldn’t fight him on it either. It still works, a cheer is a cheer.
Normally, you’d find Fireball warming, tonight, you find it burning. You almost choke on it, holding it in your mouth for longer than you should’ve, the instant sting had caught you off guard. “Jesus Christ, freshy. Swallow.” It’s like you need a reminder, you’re able to take it down; a shutter takes over your body.
You turn to your lab partner, a sour look on your face. “Why did you let me do that? You’re supposed to be smart.” Ethan holds his hands up, you’re not about to throw him under the bus. “Hey, I tried. You’re the one that only wanted Parker’s opinion.”
SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 9TH. CATHEDRAL HALL.
Peter was dragged out of his bed a little too early for a saturday in his opinion. He woke up to Trent hanging over his bed, poking him harshly on his shoulder. “The fuck do you want, Simpson?” If Peter had to guess what time it was by the shadow in his room, it was pushing early morning.
“Get up. We need to go somewhere.” Peter blinked quickly, dragging a heavy hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Now?” Trent started to stab, Peter slapped his hand away. “The fuck, man?” His president wasn’t playing around. “Get the fuck up, Parker.”
Only when Peter sat up did Trent back away, “don’t wake anyone up. I need you downstairs in five.” When his door was shut, Peter squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to taste the idea of sleep one more time. Then, he got up, tugged on sweatpants and a hoodie, and silently crept downstairs.
Peter tried to ask what was going on, and where they were going, but Trent just kept saying, ‘you’ll see,’ and ‘shut the fuck up and trust me.’ It wasn’t until he was walking up the steps to Cathedral hall, he had an odd feeling, a slight buzz in his stomach. It heightened when they took a turn for the girls section.
“Hey, Simpson, if this is a planned parenthood thing-”
“Shut the fuck up, Parker.” Out of nowhere he stopped, Peter almost ran into him. Trent banged on an decorated door, a whiteboard with Ally’s name, the other one had been swiped, the name unclear. “I thought Ally was at the house?” Trent beat the door harder, “she is.”
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, he was about to ask, yet again, why they were there. The answer came when the door flew open, eyes squinting at the hallway lighting, stands you. “You’re not Ally.”
Peter’s slightly surprised you’re home, he had no idea when or how you left last night. He also doesn’t really care.
“No shit,” you lightly scoffed when Trent shoved his way in, your shoulder hitting the doorframe. “Good morning to you, too, dick.” Peter gently walked in, making sure not to bump against you. It made you smile lightly, “good morning, Peter.” He nodded back, “morning.” Trent bounced on Ally’s bed, it produced a loud creak. “No wonder she’s always at the house.”
You sat on the edge of your own bed, gesturing to the spot next to you or your desk chair for a seating option for Peter; he chose the chair. Peter looked over your face while you woke up, your eyes puffy from being rubbed at, you stretched with arms over your head, a peek of skin showed your stomach.
“You look sick.” It snapped you from your daze, you frowned at Trent. “Thanks, it’s my natural beauty.” Trent pulled a sour look, “that’s what girls look like without makeup?” Peter doesn’t really notice a difference, and that’s not a bad thing. “It’s too early for your shit, Simpson.” He looks towards you, you poke your tongue out at Trent, a childish moment to prove you had someone on your side and not his.
Peter watches you lean back, velvety thighs on display. A hand goes behind your back, a plush resurfaced. Spider-Man sits on your lap, arms wrapped tight around his waist. He thinks it’s a squishmellow of some sort, he remembers he hooked up with a girl last year with at least twenty on her bed. She didn’t have a Spider-Man one though.
“How are you feeling?” You look tired, maybe a little hungover. Little to no energy. Peter thinks it’s the comedown of your previous night's choices. You grin, holding Spider-Man a little tighter. “Like a champ, you?”
Trent scoffs, “enough bullshit, wench. You know why we’re here.” Peter feels the hair on his neck stand up, Trent can be a prick, but he really has a vendetta against you. “Jesus Christ, Simpson. She’s a human being.” It’s the bare minimum, but it still makes you feel warm and fuzzy. “It’s okay, Peter. He’s just mad he can’t satisfy women.”
Trent flies up, “fuck you! I’m doing you a fucking favor and-” Peter stands up just as quick, pushing Trent back down with a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, Simpson.” With Peter as mediator, you don’t worry about standing up for yourself.
“You’re not doing me a favor, I’m doing you a favor! You’re the one that couldn’t hold up your end of the bargain, you asshole!” Trent fights against Peter’s hold, “you’re the one that came to me!” You throw your Spider-Man to the side and step up, Peter backs up against your chest, literally using his body as a barrier. “You’re the one that involved Peter!”
Peter shoves hard on Trent’s chest, it sends him flying back into Ally’s bed. You step back, Peter’s doing his best to look between the two of you. It’s exasperated, “involved me in what?” It goes silent, you weren’t going to say anything, you were the one who told Trent to fix it. Trent’s the one that brought in Peter, Trent’s the one to surprise you with a visit.
Trent’s breathing is harsh, he’s more worked up than you are. You don’t know if it’s the situation or your comments, but you’re not saying a word until he does. “Look, your friend here, she’s the one that got us the intel on the other frats.” Trent’s a lot more gentle this time around, you think it may have something with the way Peter’s looking at him, daring him to try and make a move.
Peter glances back at you, you look away, a poster more interesting. “She needs something in return and I can’t help her. I told her to ask you and I’d look the other way, but someone had to be difficult.”
“I held up my end, Simpson. You do the same.” Trent huffed, “I fucking told you-” he lowered his voice at Peter’s glare, “- that I couldn’t do anything. I told you to ask Parker and you were the one that stormed out all pissed. I brought him here, isn’t that good enough?”
Your arms cross, no, it wasn’t good enough. “I never wanted to involve Peter, I told you that last night. I just wanted you to figure out a way to fix it.” Trent throws his arm out at Peter, “I did! He’s fucking here! He’s gonna fucking fix it!”
Peter feels like he’s going crazy, “fix what?” His chapter president rubs at his forehead, a heavy sigh. “You need to pledge… Fuck, what was his name?” You roll your eyes, you have little to no hope. “Isaac Barns.” Trent nods, “yeah, him. Parker, all I need you to do is pledge him and this-” an allover gesture to your body, “-goes away.”
Peter takes a second to let it sink in, he almost laughs, but it seems a little too real to be a joke. “Dirty rushing, really? You do know what’s at stake if I say yes, right?” Trent’s jaw looks like it’s about to break into a thousand pieces with the tension it’s under. “Yes, Parker, I know what I’m asking.” Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “right, so you understand why I have to say no.”
You jump in, your hand on Peter’s arm, pulling him to face you. He’s staring at the placement, it’s sending a burn up and down, radiating heat. You pull away before he can shake your hold off, “please?” Peter steps away from Trent with a final warning glance, “tell me, freshman. Are you in a sorority?” You frown, “no.” He nods, like he already knew the answer. “Right. And are you aware of what could happen to me if I agree?” You have an idea, and it tells you it wouldn’t be good. “That’s if you get caught, you have Trent’s go ahead.”
Peter laughs, he doesn’t give a shit Trent’s right there. “You think I trust him to have my back? He’d throw me under the bus in a second.” Peter doesn’t know what you know, you look in Trent’s eyes when you respond, making it clear that that would never happen. “Then trust me, and trust me when I say he won’t.”
Trent looks away from Peter, he makes the connection in a second.
“What do you have on Simpson?” You sputter, you feel a flush of warmth coat you. “I’m not like… some blackmailer or anything.” Trent shouts out from the bed, “ha!” Your eyes flash to the same poster from before, nothing has changed. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. President. Do you want to share with the peanut gallery?” Peter raises his hands, displeased, “don’t insult me and ask for a favor in the same breath.”
“Look, Parker, just fucking pledge the kid, alright? It stays between us. Don’t think I don’t have shit to lose by letting this happen. I have the same risk you do.” Peter disagrees, “you’re not the one pledging.” Trent stands up, “but I’m cutting whoever she tells me. We’re both playing dirty.”
Peter’s trying to think about it logically, he just doesn’t understand why. You have all the answers, they’re only there because of you. “Why?” You pause, “what, this guy your boyfriend or something?” You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no. Not at all. He doesn’t even know I’m doing this. He’s just a person I know who’s rushing, that’s it.”
Peter kisses his teeth and shakes his head in disbelief, “yeah, I don’t know about that.” Total defeat, you were at a loss. Your answer was Trent, if Peter wouldn’t do it, Trent needed to find someone who would. “Trent,” it comes out as a whine, a defiant toddler pointing at Peter.
“C’mon, Parker. Think about this. You’re smarter than your own good.” Peter sizes his president up, he really doesn’t like what he’s implying. “And I’m supposed to trust you?” You push on Peter’s arm, “no, you’re supposed to trust me. Trent won’t touch you, no matter your answer. Even though I really wish it was yes.”
Peter’s doing his best to push down all emotion, because if he wasn’t, he’d find out that he wanted to say yes. Just because you asked him. And that’s not who he is, or what he does. He’s known you for a week and he’s about to put his entire academic career at hand, it’s dehumanizing to himself. Witch.
“Fine.” You cheer, Peter’s whipped into a side hug. He claws your arms away from him, “I didn’t say yes. I’ll think about it, okay?” You nod, it’s enough for you, “thank you so much, Peter. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Trent throws his hands up, “hello? You’re welcome.” You sneer at him, “you did nothing but put it all on Peter.” Peter tilts his head, he didn’t think about it like that, but you’re right. “You’re insufferable and will never find a man to put up with that.” That was a blow, a harsh one at that. You’re pretty good at brushing things off, or firing back, but Trent went a little too far. He hit that deep down, hidden, insecurity.
You just really wanted to go back to sleep, the thought of Peter in your room no longer slightly excited you. You just wanted to be alone. “Jesus fucking Christ, Trent. Who the fuck says shit like that?” You shrug, “it’s obvious he was just giving me constructive criticism.” You try to joke, it doesn’t really work.
Peter looks down at you, it’s like you sunk down into the floor. Trent made you feel small. “It’s not funny, nothing about that was funny. That was fucked up, Simpson, the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s not an ounce of remorse on his face either, “sorry.” Peter wants to break his arm, instead he shoves him towards the door, nothing near gentle. “You’re a fucking dick.”
“Yeah, and you just wanna stick yours in her.” If he wouldn’t be at grounds of expulsion from the frat, Peter would’ve laid him the fuck out right then and there. “Shut the fuck up, Simpson. Just leave it alone.” He does, and throws the door open before parting you with a middle finger.
Peter pauses at the door, his eyes on your figure. It’s not like he cares about you or anything, Trent was a dick, an uncalled for amount of mean. “Don’t listen to him, he’s still reeling from that ‘can’t please a woman,’ comment.” You give a small smile, “thanks, Peter.”
Peter’s hand holds the door handle, a tight lipped grin. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he just has to tell you. Clearing his throat, “hey, freshman?” You perk up, he finds himself looking down at your mouth, eyes trailing towards your collarbone. Peter stops himself, it’s not about that right now.
“You’re not… you’re not totally insufferable.”
Something about it makes you explode, you can’t stop the cheek hurting grin. For a second, Peter matches it. “Are you saying I’ll find a man to put up with me?” Peter shrugs a shoulder, “the world is pretty big, freshman. There’s gotta be at least one.”
At least Peter won’t think you’ll die alone, he might even be at your side. “Thanks, Peter. For everything. And for thinking about it, it means a lot to me.” Peter closing the door on himself, he briefly pauses, “just because I said I’d think about it, doesn’t mean I’ll do it.” You nod, “I know.”
“Good. I just didn’t want you to get disappointed.” Your eyes brighten, “you care about disappointing me?”
It goes unanswered, instead, Peter takes a deep inhale. “I’ll see you around.” With that, you were alone with Spider-Man once more.
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH, ESU DINING HALL.
The plastic chair next to Peter slides out, nickel legs scratch the tile underneath them.
“So, how are we feeling about a verdict?”
Peter doesn’t even flinch, he takes a bite of his sandwich. It was better before it was ruined by the presence of a demonic presence. Your hands drum on the table like you’re building yourself up for a yes, Peter thinks it’s funny you find him so easy.
“It’s been two days, freshman.” You huff dramatically, “not a freshman.”
“You act like one.”
This is the part where you question your attraction towards him, it’s proof to the saying ‘you can’t pick who you love.’ You lean closer, it’s not about semantics. Peter pulls back when you get too close, he must be scared of another hug.
“It’s a pretty easy answer, Peter. If you won’t do it, fine. But your president better figure out another way and quickly. We already have the PNM list, you make the choice sunday.”
It isn’t his problem but the more he knows about it, the more it becomes his. Peter can’t deny the curiosity, for a witch you have no real magic, beyond what you’ve casted on him.
Peter sighs, “alright, explain it to me. Sell it to me.” You sit straighter and fix your hair, clearing your throat you interlock your fingers on the table and begin to pitch. “I’m going on the ski trip this year, yay you.” You pout dramatically, “I needed money because my boyfriend isn’t a member of the frat and I wasn’t budgeted in.” Your words were a nod towards Ally, as if she couldn’t pay for it herself if she needed to.
Peter wants to bang his head against the table, there’s no fucking way he had to spend a week with you in a house. That’s constant communication. That’s hell.
“We bet every year on a member that makes it in, if we win, we get the money. I upped the stakes this year, and I know someone who signed up to rush.” You smile and poke at his arm, it’s solid. Peter looks down at your finger, you pull back and finish.
“That’s where you come in. You pick him.”
Peter crosses his arms over his chest while he tilts his chair back, he’s mulling it over in his mind. He looks over your face while he pokes at his cheek with his tongue, if that’s his concentration face, you hope to make him think a lot more.
“What do I get out of it?” In Peter’s mind, it’s a bit unfair. He’s putting his reputation, spot in the frat and possibly academic probation on the line. And he gets nothing out of it. He doesn’t even want anything in return, or nothing he can think of at the moment at least. It still feels like he has to bargain for something, he’d regret it later.
You try to hide the shock, you didn’t think Peter was that kind of guy. You didn’t know him, but you didn’t take him for a sexual favors type of person. You wanted to hook up with him, sure. But when he felt like it was owed to him, it felt icky.
“Oh,” you look around the room, your voice lowers. The deal took a dirty turn. “What, um…” You look back at him before escaping eye contact, you don’t feel as bold. “What did you have in mind?”
You didn’t hide the shock well, Peter’s chair is back on four legs with a slam. “No, god no.” Okay, he wasn’t asking for sex, but god no? Peter worded it wrong, you took it as a personal offense. “Not…” He’s not even going to try and explain that one out, he ditches the part where he would try to say ‘not that I wouldn’t have sex with you, because I would, but…’
“I’m not asking for you to fuck me, I just meant I’m putting a lot on the line for a girl who assaulted me and a guy I barley like.” Assault is a harsh word, you’d fight him on it but the last part mattered more. You could give him the dirt on Trent, he said if anyone knew he would prefer it to be Peter.
“Wanna know what I have on Trent?” You have his attention, suddenly Peter looks very interested in what you have to say. He nibbles on his bottom lip for a second before nodding, for this part, you really lean in.
“He failed out. The school sent him a letter saying he was dismissed, he had a fourteen average.” Peter’s trying to connect the dots, for once, he truly had no idea what was going on in the frat house. “His dad donated eighty-six grand, anonymously, and the next day? Bam. Reenlisted and all roles reinstated, like nothing ever happened.” Peter’s not surprised one bit, it’s very on brand for the Simpson family, to pay their way out of trouble. At least he can say you didn’t leave him empty handed, it’s good ammo to have in the back of his pocket.
“I’ll consider your request more seriously.” It’s something, and you’ll celebrate it, you pull him into a hug, just for a quick second to squeal in his ear. You’re shrugged off in a second, you don’t care. “Thank you! See, I just knew I picked the good one!”
The good one?
You’re up and pushing the seat in, your bag hung over a shoulder. “I’ll see you friday?” In relation to the weekly party, he nods slowly, like you’re an idiot. “I do live there, yes.” You’re unfazed, you’ve come to realize he’s just a mildly grumpy person. It’s mostly cute.
“Will you let me know then, is that enough time?” Peter will do anything to have you leave, he wants five minutes of peace with his lunch before he has thermodynamics. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Your eyes sparkle, he has to look back at his plate. “Thank you, Peter. You’re the bestest.”
You really, truly are a witch. Because his sandwich tasted a whole lot sweeter when you walked away. It turned into sog the second you placed yourself at Ally and Paul’s table. Ally’s eyes flashing over to his, a grin when he was caught looking your way. He finished in record time, he needed to get out of the room, it was starting to get a little too warm for his comfort.
Ally started in the second you placed yourself across from her, eyes flashing to where you previously were. “Hanging out with Parker?” You shrug, if it helps getting her off your back, it helps. “He’s cute.” A squeal, she pulls at her boyfriend's arm. “Did you hear that? Matty, ask Parker if he’s into her.”
Matt crushes a coke can, a burp follows. “No.” Ally’s face scrunches up, “why not?” Matt’s swiping at his phone, you can’t tell what game he’s playing, the glare from the lights are too bad. “Cause it’s not my business, or yours.” Ally pulls away from him entirely, her arms crossed over her chest in a huff. Uh oh, she’s mad.
“Babe, can you get me a water? My wallet is in my backpack.” When she makes no move, he peeks over, “please? I can’t pause this level.” It’s a huff from his girlfriend, “what? You’re mad at me now? Look, I can’t even ask him if I wanted to, he’s leaving.” You look over your shoulder, Peter’s walking out with headphones stuffed in his ears, blind to the outside noise. How lucky.
“Yeah, good thing you don’t live together or anything, Matt.” It has his total attention, “no need for that hostility, honey. If you want me to ask, I’ll ask.” It’s the right move, and he played right into Ally’s hand. A cluster of kisses to his cheek, “thank you, Matty. Love you.” A smile’s back on his face, his reward was his request being honored.
The second Ally’s out of earshot you laugh at her boyfriend. “She plays you like a fool.”
Matt doesn’t care one bit. “Yeah, love makes you do that. You’ll find out, she-devil.”
You just hope you’re not the fool.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13TH, QUEENS, NEW YORK.
A six car pileup on the bridge caught Spider-Man’s attention, adrenalin courses his veins, any traces of that six egg omelet from Linda weighing him down vanishes. A screech of his name, he clocks it instantly. A woman, barely fourty. Spider-Man knows who it is, it’s the reporter that called him a Spider-Menace last week. Oh, how the mighty fall.
A head tilt at the woman, she’s panicking. Thrashing in her seat, crumpled between glass and leather. She’s begging him for help, he watches for a moment before speaking over the screams. “Calm down, I’m gonna help you. Just felt like being a menace.” Tears, she speed runs apologies, tells him it’s just a job and her son loves him.
“Alright, alright, come here.’ A grown woman, clinging to his hip is almost comedic. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Spider-Man doesn’t need to hear it a million times, it doesn’t mean much to him after the first one. “You’re alright, just wait over here for the fire department, okay?”
There’s countless other shouts, he’s already running back up the freeway. Spider-Man has no plans to stay in the city after this, no, instead Peter is going to take the long train back and listen to a podcast. But right now, Spider-Man has a job to do.
CATHEDRAL HALL.
Three copies of the same page, everyone calls a name.
Ally starts, “I call Conner Frise.”
Prince next, “Sam Mason.”
Ally pokes your shoulder, “c’mon, what’s your pick?”
You pretend to think about it, two pairs of eyes waiting expectantly. You grin, “Isaac Barns.” Confidence spills, “and I’m gonna win.”
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE
Peter’s clouded in infatuation. If he was animated, he’d have hearts and stars swirling around his head. Maybe it was the booze that had him feeling so loose, for once dropping the urge to push you away, and to pull you closer. Or maybe it was you. All he could smell was your perfume, it choked him in the right ways. Something he’d be smelling long after you were gone, something that made him want to breathe in against your neck.
You haven’t left him alone all night, circling back over and over until all he could think about was you, you, you.
He didn’t know a neck could be so pretty, how he’d kiss over your pulse and hope it would race as much as his. And he never really noticed hair, until it framed your face. Peter was never much on picking up sounds, but now he’s heard your laugh, the one he pulled from you, he’d never be able to unhear it.
And your voice. It whispered a song into his ears, it sent him leaning in, begging for more of the inflections. Peter didn’t care what you were talking about, as long as you were speaking to him, he’d listen. He wasn’t one to notice clothes, only when they fit just right or left little to the imagination. But on you, everything was your color.
Peter can’t think of anything else but your lips, they’re puffed while you spin words. Velvet tumbles produced, hints of a smile around your ‘S’s. It’s like you don’t notice him getting closer, as he steps forward, you step back. You weren’t trying to escape, it was subconscious, you were making more room for him, you don't realize he doesn't want space.
“It was really kind of sad, because the whole time you were rooting for the main character,” he’d asked you about a book he saw in your room. He doesn’t really care about it.
“Right,” one step closer.
“But then it all comes down at the end and you realize he really wasn’t a good guy,” Peter takes another step, your back brushes the brick wall. Little pricks dig into your shirt, it doesn’t stop you.
“And then?”
You smile, “this is where it gets good,” Peter leans his hand on the wall next to your head, you make no notice. “It is.” It’s more of a statement than a question, he’s relaying it to his own situation.
“You find out he set up his friend,” it was the twist, you’d been setting it up, but Peter has no reaction. You wonder if he was even listening to you, maybe it would’ve been better if he had read it himself.
“Are you listening to me? Cause I just kind of just spoiled the whole thing.”
Peter can’t stop himself, he leans in. His head hangs low, you raise your chin to look in his eyes. How have you still not picked up on his hints? “Why’d he set him up?” You hum, a sparkle forms in your eyes, he was listening.
“Well, if we're talking about my personal analysis, I think it’s cause-”
Your lips are pillowy, puffed under his mouth as they’re wrapped around your words. Your skin is warm under his hands, he can feel your hips burning his palms over your clothes. Peter tugs you closer while simultaneously pushing you further into the brick, when you hum into his kiss, he licks your bottom lip.
Open mouth kisses, your hands tug at the curls on the back of his neck, he’s not one for girls playing with his hair. But you, he wants you to touch wherever you want. He can’t fucking breathe, but he doesn’t care, you’re enough of a breath of fresh air. Peter feels more alive in this moment than he has in a long time.
You pull from him, puffs of air tumble. Peter’s desperate for more, you’re just so sweet. Wet marks dot from your jaw to your neck, your hands tug at the lapels of his flannel. “Peter,” it’s breathless, he wonders if it’s the kiss or him.
Hands tuck under your thighs, you gasp as you’re pulled up to equal height on the wall. Your legs loosely straddle his waist, nails digging into his shoulder when he hums over the middle of your throat between gentle bites and smoothing his tongue over the attack. “Fuck,” it’s a whimper, you don’t mean to, but fuck.
Maybe he shouldn’t have cornered you like this, but what’d you expect looking at him like that?
Peter retraces his steps, all you can think is that he tastes as sweet as he feels. It was everything you’d been pining for, and more. You were screaming in color, each grip of his hands felt like water paint, soaking deep and spreading.
Would it be selfish if you wished he felt the same?
“Parker, you out here?”
You squeak, your feet hit the ground. Peter’s head is spinning, his instinct to get as far away as possible. “Yeah,” it’s airy. He clears his throat, you look over his face, he’s avoiding eye contact. “Peter,” you feel a jolt when he backs away. A stab when he steps around the corner, you try to follow, he’s quicker.
You feel everything crumble when you realize he doesn’t want anyone to know he was with you.
“Where you at? We’re mixing everclear for the PNM’s.”
“Peter,” it’s on deaf ears. He doesn’t even look at you, how could he kiss you like that and then act like it was nothing? Why would he kiss you like that if it meant nothing?
“Right here,” you watch his back disappear. “Tequila if we’re evil, beer to make them puke.” His frat brother laughs, “you’re a sick man, Parker.”
It really, really doesn’t feel nice to be left behind in the cold. Especially when he just made you feel so warm. And it really doesn’t feel right when you want to cry, and it feels humiliating when you give him a grace period, just so you didn’t follow him from the back of the house. Just so no one would see you, just so no one would know what just happened.
Just so you could keep it to yourself.
You feel nothing when a shoulder hits yours, your fingers feel hot from the contrast of the breezy outdoors to the crowded, humid room of bodies. Ally’s arm hangs over your neck, you want to scream.
Peter’s eyes catch your frown, he should’ve done more. But if he doesn’t understand anything, how would his frat brothers? He feels bad, and a little more sober than he should be, a little too sober to have done what he just did. A line of shots, Peter adds an two extra, but he doesn’t add everclear, he chooses Fireball.
A pink, plastic shot glass slid in front of you. You look up, Peter’s waiting and watching, he raises his own. “Cheers, freshman.” It’s something, he’s waiting on your call, you’re so close and you can’t blow it now. You plaster on a smile and shake Ally’s arm off, you raise it up.
“Cheers, Parker.”
Peter must’ve had more than he thinks, because wow, what a gross feeling.
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE
Peter does his best to be a good person, part of that is knowing when you fuck up. And what he did at his party on friday, was a fuck up. It wasn’t that he particularly cared about you, or your feelings, but he could admit that he pulled a shitty move. So shitty he dodged you the rest of the night and left you high and dry with his answer about your favor.
You didn’t even have a way to try and contact him, other than beating down his door but even you knew that would be a bad idea. Which leads him to now, standing on the front lawn, with thirty two potential pledges.
Peter’s turn to bid. A terrible idea. But all he could think about was getting back in your good graces and how much it fucking annoyed him to want that. Peter can feel Trent’s eyes burning into him, he takes a step forward, boldness in his chest.
“I bid Isaac Barns.”
It would either be the worst or best decision of his life and for whatever reason, you’re worth the gamble.
CATHEDRAL HALL
its.parker requested to follow you.
Your eyes widened, suddenly you’re very awake. Peter’s the one that kissed you, Peter’s the one that walked away, Peter’s the one that ignored you. Peter’s the one that followed you. Mixed messages, but it proved something. It wasn’t his main with ten pictures, it was his personal, his finsta, the one full of his personality.
You nibble on your bottom lip, it shouldn’t be that easy for him. Tapping on his account you hit the request button, just because you follow him doesn’t mean he gets to follow you. Mind spinning, you replay friday night again.
The tension eased and multiplied in one action. Peter had made you feel butterflies in the deepest pits of your stomach, when he kissed down your neck, when he wrapped your legs around his waist, when he went in for more, when he kissed you first.
Even thinking about it makes your cheeks hurt from a grin, you squeal out and kick your feet in your bed. Peter Parker kissed you, and it meant something. It had to, something tells you that Peter doesn’t jump without thinking.
Peter’s holding his breath while refreshing his page, still no notifications. He’s worried he blew it that night, not that it matters, it was just a kiss. Everyone kisses, if you really think about it, kisses don’t mean much. At least that’s what he tells himself.
spider.luvr66 requested to follow you.
If he acts now, he’d be a bit crazy. You hadn’t responded to him, but he doesn’t care. He’ll wait a couple minutes, then respond. It feels like his brain is melting, he’s not supposed to, and doesn’t feel like this. It’s against who he is now.
But, fuck, you make it difficult for him to not think about you. Peter swears you’re a witch.
Accept. spider.luvr66 is now following you.
Follow request accepted, you are now following its.parker.
You sit up, it was quick, you wonder if he was waiting for the notification. It doesn’t matter, you have the Peter Parker bible in your hands, and you were about to do some research.
You finally had access to his posts, and you were about to scroll through every single one. But the most recent one was the most important of all. A picture of Peter, crossed arms back to back with a slightly familiar face. The caption told you everything you needed to know about Peter.
‘big brother season.’
You had your bid and he posted the proof.
Whatever he did friday was forgiven. That wasn’t who he was, but this, putting himself on the line for you, this was his true character and whether he wanted you to notice that or not, you did.
And it was a bold act for a guy who pretended he didn’t kiss you breathless.
#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker blurb#tasm!peter x you#frat!peter parker#frat!peter#uni#my writing
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taking frat!peter’s favorite hoodie and wearing to your morning lecture and he tears apart his room and the rest of the house trying to look for it (maybe even accuses some of his brothers lmao) and then you come to see him later that day and he’s just like ohh *heart eyes*
while his brothers are just like 🧍🥲 “why isn’t she getting shit for this?”
and he’s just like “she’s my girl” then tells you don’t have to ask but to let him know whenever you take a sweater so he knows it’s gone and he didn’t lose
PLUS he’s loves it cause he can smell your perfume linger on his clothes 🥰
stop because i've thought of similar ideas for pete/bashful and have been dying to talk about it.
you didn't even plan on taking the hoodie. you'd had your clothes for lecture laid out that night, but you did not anticipate on it raining at all!! like where did that even come from?? so you get your shorts or and your t-shirt but you need something with a hood. the dark blue hoodie is hung nicely on the back of pete's computer chair and you throw it on in a rush not thinking he'd care. besides it smells like him!!
yet peter misses his one lecture of the day tearing his room apart looking for this hoodie. he's torn his room apart I mean clothes from the closet strung onto the bed and floor, his dresser drawers thrown open and the clothes hanging out of it. its gone. he's convinced himself that he left it on the campus bus and it's gone forever. then he remembers.
"where is it nate?"
nate tilted his head like a dog. shrugging
"my blue nike hoodie. where is it? you've got the red one just like it you're always trying to take my blue one."
"it was one time and it got mixed up with mine. I don't know Harry did laundry last night ask him.
Harry was a bust and so was Miles. After Miles he interrogated every other dude in the house no one had seen the hoodie.
"hey boys!" your voice carried through the doors of the house. "has anyone seen pet..Pete!" you smiled so big at him, arms out wide. then he saw it. the blue hoodie snug around you, slightly damp from the rain.
"I borrowed your hoodie this morning I hope that was okay. it was so cold and rainy."
"it is totally fine. just ask okay, next time baby? it's my lucky hoodie."
your face drops and you go to take it off. "I'm sorry you can have it back."
"no no keep it on for a little bit longer." he says walking towards you, hands rubbing your shoulders. "get it to smell like you then give it back okay?" he smiles wrapping you in a hug kissing you. both of you giggling into the kiss.
harry, miles, and nate all stand on the staircase. "he literally threatened to kill me 20 minutes ago over this." harry says. "why is It okay for her huh?"
"cause she's my girl. look at how cute she looks in it! you don't look cute in my clothes Harry." Peter teases walking up the steps behind you, smiling at his friends.
#frat!peter#frat peter blurb#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter imagine#tasm peter x reader#tasm andrew garfield#tasm peter smut#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm! peter parker smut#tasm! peter parker fluff
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would you love me if i were a worm? | peter parker
summary: you ask peter a very, very serious question.
warnings: nothing! (reader goes by rose sometimes... like a pet-name?)
pairing: frat!peter x bimbo reader
word count: 0.7k+ words
a/n: i honestly had so much fun writing intellectual, i wanted to add more to this little bimbo!verse! this trend feels like such a cute, bimbo-y thing, so i put it on here! (in no way is use of "bimbo" meant to be a patriarchal stereotype. please do not take it offensively, this is a work of fiction.)
M.LIST | RULES/REQUESTING | ABOUT ME
you're scrolling through your instagram reels, trying to pass your time. you're snuggled against peter - he's nice and warm - and lazily draped against him.
his arm has lost feeling at this point, but he couldn't care less, he's totally happy with it. being close to and loved by you is the best thing he could ever ask for. peter's lost a lot in his life, but you'll never be one of them.
he has his head laying on top of yours, tapping away at his laptop. peter's been busy with spider-man, to the point where the essay that is due tomorrow completely slipped his mind. he's trying to multitask since he hasn't spent that much time with you lately.
he's struggling, typing with one hand, but it's worth it.
you swipe to the next video using your freshly painted nails (they're a nice shade of pink, topped with a glitter coat). what's playing is a girl talking to her boyfriend; you can't hear the audio, but there a subtitles. the girl poises a very important question:
what would he do if she were a worm? would he love her still?
which leads you to think, what would peter do if you were a worm?
would he still love you?
or would he give you away? throw you into the dirt? would he step on you?
you gasp at the thought, and peter turns to look at you. "you good?" he doesn't look nor sound especially concerned, but the look in his eyes gives it away.
"petey?" you ask, eyes wide and wet.
"yeah, rose?"
"would you still love me if i were a worm?"
he's about to burst into laughter, he really is, but with one more look at you, he realizes that's not a great idea. the way you're looking up at him, expectant and weary, almost like you're afraid of his answer has him rubbing your shoulder, a chuckle slipping out.
if it's even possible, your eyes widen more. "you wouldn't?" eyes glossed over, lips pouted, he wishes he could take that stupid little chuckle back. he doesn't like the way you're tearing up, even if it's for a reason like this.
peter doesn't get fazed by much, he's spider-man, but watching you cry is number one on his list.
peter thinks it a silly question; he'd love you if you were a damn rock.
you're so gorgeous like this (not the crying), he can't help but think. with your hair in soft curls, satin hugging your figure. the curve of your lashes, how you blink up at him.
god, he's so happy he's with you.
"of course i would," peter says quickly, realizing he's been quiet a moment too long.
"really?"
"yeah," by the look on your face, it's not enough. "uh, i'd love you still."
"you'd carry me around with you?"
"sure. i'd figure out how to give you a cute pink bow, we could tie it around your waist- er... around you. and buy you a little dollhouse, you could use the rooms."
peter's committed now, and your eyes aren't welling with tears anymore.
"can it be a, like, pink dollhouse?" you ask, softly, voice moist from tears.
"with glitter," he adds, "and if we can't find a nice enough one for you, that's absolutely perfect... i'll make you one myself."
"oh my god, really?"
"anything for my favorite lady. in fact, i'd get you the finest food too. top notch- top notch whatever-it-is-that-worms-eat food."
peter's so glad none of his frat brothers are seeing this, he would've died of mortification. but here, in this room, where it's just the two of you - peter doesn't have a care in the world.
"and, y'know what? i think i'd even find you a pink little louis-v bag. that's right, my rose." he's spewing facts right now, he'd do all this. well, maybe not the bag. the two dollars in his bank account might not work out great with that.
but you don't have to know that part, it's fine.
"i'd read your, uh- fashion magazines and stuff to you. show you the pictures and everything," he loves the smile you have on right now.
"you'd be the most beautiful worm there is," he finishes.
"awww. i'd love you if i was a worm too," you say, nuzzling your nose against his.
"i've got no doubt, rose."
it's not all a lie though, hypothetical or not. he's made a promise to never leave your side, worm or not.
taglist:
@whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod
#tom holland x reader#tom holland#peter parker#peter parker x you#spiderman#fluff#tom holland x you#peter parker imagine#angst#peter parker x reader#frat!peter x bimbo!reader#frat!peter x reader#frat!peter#peter x bimbo!reader#bimbo!reader
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A Christmas Blessing: The Gift of Moving On | frat!Peter Imagine
Summary: You and your boyfriend had a messy breakup at Halloween. Almost two months later you think you’re ready to move on, even if he’s still holding on.
Warnings: jealousy, messy break up, sweet Peter, fluff
Word Count: 1K+ (wrote in app again so not completely sure)
A/N; it’s Christmas party season and I was scrolling through fics when this idea came to me so here we go.
He couldn’t help but watch you. It had always been the way. Ever since his frat brother had brought you back to the house that first time. Peter was mesmerised. By your hair, your eyes, the way you dressed. The way you had 5 different laughs. The way you always found time to say hi to him when you came over to the house. If you came over before Matt had gotten back from the library or a lecture or wherever the heck he was, you’d grab a drink for the two of you and just sit with him and talk. It was always just so easy for you both to talk.
It had only gotten worse after you and Matt broke up at Halloween. You’d caught him hiding out in one of the upstairs rooms of a party over at the Theta Beta Phi house, making out with some girl in a slutty super girl costume. The argument the two of you had had, instantly killed the party. Peter had gotten so angry with Matt when he’d found out what he’d done. If the party hadn’t been over when you walked out, it definitely was after he punched Matt in the face on the front lawn.
He couldn’t help but watch you now. Your gaze was focused on something in the adjacent room. Your cup was held frozen in mid air near your chin with one hand, while your other arm wrapped protectively across your chest. You were stood alone, your back to a messy stack of shelves. Where once you looked so comfortable at parties surrounded by friends, now you just looked like you’d rather be elsewhere. And that made Peter sad.
“What are you staring at?” He asked as he approached, but as soon as he was stood in the right angle to follow your gaze, he knew exactly what you were looking at.
Matt stood in the hallway with the girl from the Halloween party. However instead of her slutty super girl outfit, she wore a slutty Santa costume. She was giggling at every word he said. His finger reached out to play with her hair. He took one look in the direction of Peter and you, before he plucked the girls hat off of her head and placed it on top of his own, his body shuffling closer to her.
“It’s like watching a car crash.” You say to Peter. “She doesn’t even realise he isn’t actually into her. He’s just trying to make me jealous.”
“How come?”
“Because I wouldn’t take him back.” You said, finally looking away from them as you took a sip of your drink.
“Good. I’m glad.” Peter said, only slightly fumbling over his words. “I mean, he was a dick and you are way too good for him.”
“Are you allowed to say that?” You question as you adorably tilt your head at him. “Isn’t he your fraternity brother. Isn’t that part of the brotherhood and the pact, to always have each other’s backs.”
“Yeah but I think the rules my Aunt and Uncle taught me about not being a dick to women kind of overrule any fraternity pacts or rules.”
“Well,” you say, lifting your cup towards him for him to cheers with his own, “I guess that must make you a rare breed of man, Peter Parker.”
Your words make him blush as he looks down into his cup as you take a sip from your own.
You both stand with each other in awkward silence for a moment until another fake giggle draws your attention back into the hallway where Matt is now making out with the skinny blonde in the red and white mini skirt. His hand groping at her ass for everyone to see. Peter’s head turns back to looking at you as the expression on your face turns sour.
“He looks like he’s trying to swallow her face.” You comment. “Please tell me we never looked like that.” Peter’s brow furrows, so you elaborate. “When we were drunk making out at parties. Please tell me we didn’t look like that.”
“You didn’t look like that.” He said as you both watched Matt and the girl break apart only long enough for her to giggle, take his hand and starting leading him upstairs.
“I’m sorry.” Peter says.
His statement throws you. It takes you a moment to work out why. It’s because you’re relaxed. For the first time in weeks, your chest feels steady and not jittery. Your mind is calm and not racing a hundred miles a second with a thousand different hypothetical’s. You don’t feel intimidated by Matt or the girl. You feel sorry for them. You think on the way he had come grovelling to you just days ago, begging for your forgiveness only to now be shoving his tongue down another girls throat.
“Don’t be sorry.” You turn and say to him. “She can have him.” And it’s then you really look at Peter. He’s handsome, despite the bleached blonde hair he currently had because of some dare. He’s not like those other frat boys. He has a moral code. He’s always been friendly to you and if rumours are true, he stuck up for you after you had left the Halloween party.
“So um, are you headed home for the Christmas-“
“Would you like to go out with me?” You suddenly asked him, catching him off guard.
“Um uh, like right now or?”
“Or later. Tomorrow? Friday night? Whenever.”
“Uh um, uh,” he struggles with his words, his wildest dreams coming true like it’s some Christmas miracle. “Yes. Yes!” He finally gets out. There’s a pause between you both before he says, “Are you sure? I mean, it’s not too soon or-“
“No. I’m sure.” You smile at him and he feels like the cow that just jumped over the moon. “It’s just,” you say, bashfully looking down into your cup, “I just realised that I don’t think I was ever really supposed to be with Matt, you know.”
The way you look at Peter says so much. It’s always been easy for you two to talk to each other and it seems that also goes for silent conversations as you slowly inch closer to one another.
Before he knows it, he’s reaching a hand up to your face, guiding you closer to his own. You don’t protest as he kisses you, instead breathing a deep sigh of relief. Yeah, you thought to yourself, she can have your shitty ex boyfriend, you have something better right here.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker#andrew!peter parker#peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker x reader#frat!peter x reader#frat!peter#fluff#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter x you#andrew!peter x reader#tasm peter parker x reader#spider-man#tasm!peter parker#andrew peter parker#andrew peter imagine
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@webslingingslasher and @reidslovely turned me into a complete addict to frat!Peter. Thank you, dear. And I recommend you to read, fellas. 🫶🏼
#thank you writers#frat!peter parker#frat peter blurb#frat!peter drabbles#frat!peter#frat bro#nerdy!peter vs frat!peter#frat boy#writers on tumblr#very thankful#andrew garfield#sincericida
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I uhhhhh... I've been thinking about frat!Peter with a reader who is a romance novel fanatic??? (maybe this is way too self-indulgent but o well)
Warnings: not proofread, probs a little ooc
I imagine Peter does a surprise visit, walking into your room when you don't respond to his heavy knocking. He notices a book propped in your hands, narrowing his eyes to see what it is.
You, however, don't bother to notice him yet. He scoffs at the name of the book and the cover art. He hadn't realized you liked romance novels.
"I thought you said today was a study day?" His lips were quirked slightly as he stood in the middle of your room.
Silence.
He calls out your name, almost singsongy, to catch your attention.
More silence.
"Those are why you guys have such high standards...." It finally catches your attention- he's speaking with a joking tone- but as he expects a smile, you deadpan him and roll your eyes.
"Women's standards are exactly where they need to be." It's a bit snarky, but at the end of the sentence, your lip twitches slightly into a very small, almost unnoticeable grin. "You just can't live up to them."
Almost dumbfounded, he chokes out a surprised laugh, approaching your bed and sitting on it, peering over the pages. "Ouch... that was a low blow. I'm hurt."
"Stay hurt." A shrug, then your nose dives back into the book, lightly tapping his thigh with your foot.
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