#fuck I hate this time of year and dealing with dumb people
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goddammit why is it always hard to get one easy year of dealing with an accountant for the goddamn taxes.
Last year the dude we were dealing with first put the wrong address for my files (like ... a whole other city than the one I'm currently living in???)
And now this year the lady we got straight up writes the wrong last name for my partner all over.
For fuck's sake.
#and I'm always careful to clearly organize all of our documents and make sure everything's written correctly#SCREAMS IN PERFECTIONIST#fuck I hate this time of year and dealing with dumb people#lowkey tempted to just fill out our own damn taxes in the future#but it really scares me because I don't want to fill something wrong or put wrong numbers idfk#me and maths are not good friends#just ranting for the sake of ranting
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actually from now on if anyone gives me even a slightly off vibe i’m just going to take it at face value. no more nuance. you’ll get nuance and consideration from me when you deserve it
#anyway that coworker that annoyimg one i’m going to kill murder them. over petty shit yes#but why pray tell do u need to go running to our chill as hell manager over the tiniest shit that i forgot#when i first started closing. and since CORRECTWD. instead of just talking to my face one of the millions of times you’ve seen me#or even just leaving a note. why are you treating me like i’m just starting just bc you’ve been a manager#at a few cafes and food places doesn’t mean you fucking run this shit#and questioned whether i’m even actually mopping#and shit???? first of all i do second of all i make ten dollars and HOUR fuck you sorry if i don’t take more than 5-10 minutes to mop#and get every little fucking crevice#sorry i’m heated and this is just so dumb. and i hate that criticism makes me wanna cry. and i’m sad that my manager is leaving in a few wee#and the short time i have left will be with them#i used to really love the people at this job :(#abby talks#now i just most certainly don’t get paid enough to deal with annoying ass people like this#why don’t you get out of my ass and learn to just talk to peoples faces#also the amount of times over the last year i’ve said ‘i wish i listened to my first instinct’ well. nows the time#idc if i’m being a bitch anymore you’ll have to earn my respect a little more lmfao
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I’m almost done complaining abt supervisors I swear
#I’m just >:((((#it’s all so incredibly frustrating and I should’ve had this done earlier I had all of December but I didn’t#I gotta write a dumb little statement abt why I wanna do their projects/work with them#and it’s dumb!! it’s not that hard!!!#I’m just driving myself insane with the social implications bc people are very competitive abt it and yknow what I kinda am too#bc I only actually wanna do one of my 3 and if I can’t do that I’m gonna be okay with but kinda disappointed by my second choice#and my third choice is more interesting than the second in theory but in practice it’s conservation focused which I don’t want#and involves spending a month in the woods in Scotland#which I admit sounds pretty fucking cool! but would suck in practice I’m not made for that#and I’ve also put off asking whether we’d be Camping™ (I couldn’t deal with it) or staying somewhere (would be manageable)#I am fairly sure it’s of the camping variety and even if it’s not we’d be travelling through the highlands constantly#it’s just a really long time doing stuff which is kinda cool but isn’t what I wanted and with someone I dont particularly think I’d get on w#with. I should email her but the project isn’t what I want to do however cool it would be to go back to the highlands and be there a while#I’m pretty sure I’d be kinda miserable. I’m really really hoping she doesn’t pick me bc there were only 3 people interested anyway#which would be great if I wanted to do it but as it stands it’s terrifying pls god let someone else have picked her#I’ve never been so glad I was awkward as hell in an important meeting#but the problem is that if I don’t pick that one and DO get my third choice I would be miserable for an entire year instead#bc my backup option is fucking satellite imagery and machine learning for more conservation this time in the ocean#and I don’t wanna do coding and GIS!!! I did that over summer and it sucked!!!! I hated it and I never wanted to do it again!!!!#so I think ultimately the scotland one is the lesser of two evils even though it’s very much an evil#the options I had reeeaaally sucked this time#god genuinely after the island thing last summer I really can’t do long fieldwork I want to be able to shower and go home#maybe I could one day but I’m not that guy yet#I really have to write these things I just wanna cry bc they suck so incredibly bad and I gotta make out like I’m super interested#and not so tired and frustrated by the whole thing#I hate this department and this uni and this city and I really can’t wait to be somewhere else#yknow what it’s 10:30 and I gotta be up early again I might just leave it tonight#today has been so long already and I don’t think I’ll gain anything by torturing myself abt it anymore#>:/#luke.txt
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UNKISS ⋆ nrk
prompt · “you're so dumb” insert fond smile requested
g · bittersweet / fluff warnings · kissing, profanities wc · 0.9k
note · hi lily i hope u like this :< pls take care of urself, yeah? i luv u, and thanks to @flwrshee and @dokiyeom for beta reading + helping me with the ending. i asked both of them for advice and used neither's 😆☝️ go follow them
riki follows you closely behind as you rush down from the hallways to the middle of the football ground for some reason, anger spilling around with every step you take. “riki, what the fuck? what the actual fuck? how could y— why did you do that?”
“relax, it was just a kiss,” and his voice is calm, like it’s just a kiss, just a moment where his lips touched yours, like it’s an everyday thing, as if you’re making a big deal out of it by making it sound like he just committed a crime. you don’t know why or how he’s so normal about this while you feel every nerve in your body go off with sirens.
“my first kiss,” you turn around hastily, your index finger pointed at him as he takes a step back to avoid crashing into you. “it was my first kiss, riki, and you took it. you, and you’re not even my boyfriend,”
is this supposed to be a secret? yes. are you in the middle of the football ground throwing a tantrum like a five year old, for the world to know? also yes, and you couldn’t care less, actually. the fact that riki took your first kiss easily tops your list of concerns at the moment.
“i am,” he blinks, as if he’s stating a fact, hands on his waist like he’s making a completely valid point. “a fake one, but i am still your boyfriend,” you roll your eyes, scoffing at his oh so true words before shooting him a glare.
“that doesn’t even make sense. i thought i made it clear when i said ‘no kissing,’ at the beginning of this fake dating thing,” there were three rules, actually— no kissing, none of you are allowed to go on dates with someone else, this is a secret which means, none of you are allowed to breathe a word about this to anyone, not even your best friends.
“well, what do you expect me to do when your friends dare me to kiss you?” another factual information falls off his lips, it’s actually true this time. truth and dare with friends— never a good option, especially when you’re playing with your fake boyfriend and when your friends are spawns of the devil.
“i don’t know, you should’ve made an excuse to not kiss me, or you could’ve pretended to kiss me, you know, since this is all about pretending,” right, all about pretending, from pretending to date, to pretending to like each other, fake smiles and fake words of affirmations, fake sweet nothings whispered and fake claims of being in love— it’s all about pretending and riki, he isn’t enjoying this little play at all.
he doesn’t like that every i love you that leaves his mouth manages to convince the world but you. he hates that at the end of the day, every second spent with him is simply tagged as ‘fake dating’ under the chapters named after him in your life. riki despises the fact that no matter how true his feelings are, in your eyes, they’re just an act pulled by him to convince people he doesn’t care about, and he hates himself for not being able to tell you how he actually feels.
“eh, what’s done is done. besides, it can’t be that bad to kiss me,” so, he just picks up pieces of you from the smiles and hugs you give him here and there, hoping that there will be a day when you will actually consider turning whatever you two have into something more serious, something real.
you feel your cheeks heat up at his words as you turn around to face away from him. truthfully, the kiss wasn’t half bad. it only lasted for a few seconds, but the ghost of his lips still lingers over yours as if you’re the home they’ve been looking for. you can still taste faint flavour of strawberry from the strawberry milk he had during the game. the moment replays at the back of your head like a movie, one that makes your heart beat relentlessly everytime you think about it. you don’t even know why your mind keeps travelling back to it every now and then.
“whatever, ‘ki, first kisses are important to me,” you like the fact that he hasn’t noticed your flustered face, he likes the little name you’ve given him unknowingly. “i wish we could just…unkiss or something,”
“that isn’t even a thing,” he chuckles, earning another glare from you in return. “you’re so dumb,” your words make no sense, but riki can feel himself smiling fondly at your stupid thoughts, his eyes fixed on you while yours are staring at the horizon with slight annoyance. what you said is baseless, but the next second, he’s actually considering it; to unkiss, if that’s even a thing— he can make it a thing, perhaps,
the next thing you know, riki is cupping your face to make you look at him, and before you could say something, his lips are on yours again, catching you by surprise as he pulls you a little closer. you swear your heart might’ve just skipped several beats, another second passes as you process the situation, and riki pulls away the very next moment. “there, i returned your first kiss back to you,”
and all it took riki is a kiss to find his way to your head, and an unkiss to find his way to your heart.
#—approved.#hyfenet#enhanet#k-lables#enhypen imagines#riki x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fluff#enhypen reactions#riki imagines#ni-ki imagines#riki x you#riki scenarios#riki reactions#riki fanfic#ni-ki fanfic#enhypen fanfic#enhypen au#enhypen x reader#ni-ki au#riki fluff
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‘CAUSE IT’S YOU | L.DH
TITLE: ‘cause it’s you
PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader
GENRE: hits different bonus, slice of life, fluff, smut, established relationship, relationship development, christmas, meeting the parents
SUMMARY: it’s been 3 years since you met, two since you started dating, but haechan still hits different. or; you and haechan spend your first real christmas together
WARNINGS: smut, unprotected s*x (mc is on the pill), vibrat*r, getting caught, exhibitionism, edging, f!nger!ng, overstimulation, squ!rt!ng, dirty talk, praises, female joi, masturbati*n (f&m), voyeurism, n!pple play, the usual switchy dynamics, cheesy-romantic-love making, lots of kisses, l-bombs, aftercare, mentions of minor character death (before i get called a dumb bitch in the asks for not putting this), dealing with a loss and trauma, bi!haechanxbi!reader
WC: 22.563k
A/N: our favorite emotional support boyfriend is back! This was supposed to be a gift for the 4k followers this summer, but I didn’t finish writing it and I decided to give you tooth-rotting Christmas fluff and smut instead of another summer (on the coaAaAast). I’m excited and scared for this because when I was writing HD I wanted to show more after they got together (but it was too long), and then the story was such a hit (and felt complete anyway) that I wasn’t sure I wanted to write another part (or it was needed). I’m happy I didn’t finish it this summer because when I sat down for that, I feared I was right; it felt plotless, and I felt I was adding nothing to the story. Until I thought of this. I’m proud of how this came out because I feel this still has a valid plot and showcases the changes in their dynamics well. But since this is not supposed to top the original (it can’t) and I see it more as a bonus that’s optional to read, please take this as my 5k followers and Christmas gift for you! If you hated the mc in HD, this one is for you! I hope you can enjoy this, please let me know with reblogs (they help reach more people), comments and asks what you think about it! happy holidays ♡
“Where the hell are my panties?” You mutter under your breath as you look through the messy blankets with no success.
“Babe, please,” Haechan mumbles, trying to push the sheets on his body and don’t freeze with each one of your tugs.
“You know, you’re the reason I can never find my clothes, but you still never help me,” you groan, stopping to stare at him with your arms crossed.
He raises a brow, and then his usual smirk curls his lips. “Three years and I still fuck you that good, you should be grateful.”
You groan loudly before grabbing your pillow and hitting his face, eliciting a loud grunt. “You’re so annoying!”
“Damn, laugh a bit,” he jokes, wrapping his hands around your body and pulling you flat on top of him. You’re face to face, his sleepy golden-brown eyes staring into yours and his lips pouting to leave wet kisses on your face.
“Hyuck,” you complain, trying to pull away, but he flips you over, trapping you against the mattress, and going on with his sweet torture.
“What? You’re not in a rush anymore,” he whispers as his kisses get less messy and move down on your body. “Can’t be lazy with me some more?” He lifts his hand up and you see he’s holding your panties.
You gasp offended and he bursts out laughing. “You traitor! I went insane for five minutes trying to look for them!”
“It’s funny seeing you do that every time.”
You pout. “I hate you.”
But Haechan smiles and leans in to leave a peck on your lips. “I love you, too.”
“Give me them!” You scream, grabbing his hand and stealing your panties. “I wanted to make you breakfast, but no, you had to waste my time.” You push him off of you, and he just rolls to the side without complaining, still smiling as he follows you with his gaze. “Now you’ll have to wait.”
He chuckles, moving to get comfy in the warmth of the bed. “Fine by me, I’ll wait.”
You can’t hide the smile on your face, but you try to don’t show it by looking down, letting your hair cover your face, and pretending to be busy with your clothes.
Haechan gets you now. He knows why you were always in a rush and that you don’t need to be anymore. He knows that now, behind your rush, there’s not the need to be as far away from him as possible but to prepare your favorite breakfast and slump in bed together to eat it. It’s just a habit you two picked. He learned you need habits; small things that keep you grounded, small moments you can always count on, and he doesn’t mind it. Actually, he likes it too, you are the calmness he needs in his rough sea.
“Want me to help?” He asks once you’re done, ready to go in the kitchen.
“No, I want to surprise you today. Stay here, I’ll be back soon,” you reply, smiling and sending him a kiss that he grabs swiftly before bringing it to his lips, making you chuckle.
I’ll be back soon.
It sounds wild in his ears if he thinks that just two years ago, every time you walked out of that door, he feared you weren’t going to come back. It’s even more insane when he stops and thinks you two are making it work. Looking back at your failed relationships, it’s safe to say that you both don’t strike as types to make a story last.
Yet, here you are. On the bed, eating breakfast while you discuss your plans for the day. And then you’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth side by side, playfully fighting to have access first in front of the small sink, and then you’re in the shower, no funny business, just a quick wash before going out. Lastly, in your bedroom, you’re getting dressed to go out, picking each other’s fits, and finishing the last touches.
Everything in your house. The one you two now share.
Moving in felt like a sudden move, and when the moment came, Haechan had been the one who tried to stick to his old habits, too afraid that such a big change was going to scare you away. But Mark and Minjeong got more serious, and Haechan was always at your place anyway (to avoid suffocating so Mark wouldn’t hear every time you fucked). Also, as much as you loved the company of the couple, you two needed time alone, so he moved in five months ago.
But all his worries got flushed away pretty soon. You needed stability and your habits, the small things that made you feel grounded. And since you had come to terms with his feelings for him, moving in only solidified your relationship because you could have all that. There was nothing left of the insecurity of your friends with benefits phase, there was something that was planting its roots to grow strong.
Your place is still a temporary solution before looking for something nicer (not bigger, for now, the only family expansion plans are plants, a cat, and a dog).
But it’s yours. The same house you built so hard, the one you kept secret like an oath, the one he couldn’t even step foot inside, is now his too. There’s his guitar in a corner of the living room, his computer next to yours, and the game console under the TV. His clothes beside yours in the closet, his shoes in the hall right next to yours, and his jacket at the entrance. The lamps you bought together, the plants you picked together, and even a big photo of you two framed above the television; Johnny took it without you noticing, and it quickly became your favorite, so it’s there, to let everyone know who lives there.
And most importantly, there’s Haechan. There’s his laugh, filling your nights and days that used to be empty. There are his failed attempts at cooking. The books he tries to read every night, with no success, while you read yours. Just for him to end up with his head on your lap as your fingers run through his hair and you read yours out loud. There’s him hyping you up as you run on your treadmill, dancing and singing around you because that’s training too. Finally, there’s a beating heart to listen to as you fall asleep between two arms that hold you.
“I can’t believe you don’t have Christmas decorations.” This is the tenth time Haechan makes that comment as you walk around the store with the cart almost full of Christmas stuff, and you can only roll your eyes at it. “I’m sorry, babe, but… why?”
“I had nothing to celebrate,” you reply, stopping to look at the garlands, inspecting which one is better.
“Not even last year?”
“We were at your place, and usually Johnny drags me with his family, he knows I will fall into a vertigo of depression if I’m not distracted during this time,” you reply. It’s not painful to talk about it, but Haechan can hear the subtle shift in your voice and the way your eyes avoid his. He learned how to study your smallest reaction, it was the only way he could get deep into you, even after you started being serious, it wasn’t so easy for you to open up.
“If you don’t want to, we can don’t celebrate,” he says, trying to meet your eyes, and when he does, they’re wide open.
“Why? I’ve got you now,” you say, lifting in front of his face the two garlands you picked, putting the right one in the cart once he points at it. “Fuck my family, I’m not alone anymore. And I don’t want to be sad, I want to celebrate, and make my little traditions, have our Christmas.”
A small chuckle leaves his lips at your words, but then he gets serious again. “Are you sure? I always fear you push your limits for me, and I don’t want you to break —”
You stop him with a wave of hand. “Hyuck,” you say, smiling at him. “I’m fine. I’m better than I’ve ever been. I want this to be special. I’m not making your family come over to an empty house for the holidays.”
His eyes widen. “Wait, you’re sure about that too? My mom tends to get carried away and she just —”
“Oh, oh, Lee Donghyuck, are you perhaps the scared one?” You ask with a teasing smirk on your face and burst into a laugh when he blushes and turns his head low. “Oh my God, you are scared of this. You’re shitting yourself, just like when I proposed to move in with me.” You nudge him, but he slaps your arm away playfully, and then you start walking again. “Confess, you liked me better when I was the one that ran away.”
“God no, any version of you, but never the one that slips from my fingers with no warning. It was traumatic,” he confesses, there’s a smile on his face, but in his eyes, you see that thinking about it still hurts him a bit, and you’re so deeply sorry.
“Promise, never again,” you say, kissing his cheek. “So, tell me, what’s so scary about your family?”
He sighs, rubbing his temples before you both look on the shelves to pick the decorations to put on the garlands. “They’re loud and loud… and loud.”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “I like that. What do they do? Talk a lot? Sing a lot?”
“Sing a lot? You don’t want to know what we used to do. One year my sister even had a wardrobe of costumes to perform in front of us, I feared Mariah Carey was going to lose her yearly check.”
You laugh at the image. And then caress his face. “Me, my brother, and Johnny used to do that too. Not with the costumes, I confess we weren’t at those levels, but nobody, I swear nobody, not even the pissy neighbor, could take away our performance. It was unfair because they would always make me play the elf, I was too short between those two giants,” you scoff, rolling your eyes before your laugh gets loud again when you remember something. “One year my brother almost got grounded because he had painted my face green using our mom’s make-up, it was so funny. She was so mad, but he couldn’t stop laughing because of me and Johnny.”
Haechan laughs too, looking at you with softness in his eyes. You’re happy. You’re talking about your brother with a smile on your face, there’s no sign of a small twitch of your lips or the nervous playing with your fingers, just a genuine smile on your face. And you talk about him a lot, all the stupid things you used to do together, all the times he had your back, or when a song, movie, or book reminds you of him. A few months ago, you even showed him a photo book you kept stored under your bed and you talked for hours, some tears fell on your cheeks, but they were different from all the ones before. And Haechan is so happy to see you like this, to feel like your brother is still here with you, now that you don’t act like his death never happened, or his entire existence never happened.
“The three of you were a menace. How did your families survive?”
“I don’t know,” you giggle, looking at him, and smiling fondly. “I mean, without us, their lives would’ve been so boring. We always put a smile on their faces,” you say, and then sadness flashes in your eyes for a bit, but you wipe it away quickly. “You know, I wish that didn’t break my family apart. I wish my parents would’ve, I’m not saying I wanted them to fear losing me too, but at least cared about me more. Put the pride aside and welcome me back in, instead of pushing out their only child. I wish I could have them with me, laughing about the past… I mean, it’s not easy, and you know that I wasn’t like this until a year ago, but… don’t they feel like they’re grieving me too? I think I could still make them smile, I have so many stories about my brother that I haven’t told them yet. He could still live through us.”
“I think they need more time,” Haechan says, reaching your hand that’s standing on the bar of the cart, rubbing your palm with his thumb like he always does when you need support. “But they will search for you again, more than the five texts you share in a year.”
When he tells you that, you’re reminded of something you forgot to tell him a few days ago. “My mom sent me a recipe the other day, I thought she wanted to send it to one of her friends, but she wanted to send it to me.”
“See? It’s a step forward unless she was foreshadowing that she’s going to kill you and cook you in the oven,” he jokes, making you laugh as you playfully push him away.
“You’re always so stupid. Help me pick the last things, come on,” you say, changing the subject.
Yes, you can talk about this more freely, but you still need to chew on it, taking small bites, or else you’ll choke.
You walk out of the kitchen with two hot mugs in your hands, just to find Haechan blankly staring at all the boxes on the floor with a confused expression, and you roll your eyes. “What now?”
He lifts his head, walking toward you to grab his mug and leave a peck on your lips as a ‘thank you’ before he replies. “Don’t you think we went just a bit overboard? It’s too much.”
“It’s not. And look, the tree is already up because you’re the best man ever and you were so quick at putting it together,” you say, batting your lashes, making him glare at you. “What? Can’t even praise you right, now?”
“If you want my soul, I’m sad to inform you, you already have it,” Haechan says, pulling you in a hug before he kisses you again, this time it’s longer and more passionate. You chuckle when you pull away.
“It looks like it’s a lot, but it’s not,” you try to reason. “Most of these are decorations that we need to put on the tree or on the garlands that you proposed we would make, together, as a lovely, madly in love couple.”
“It wasn’t that cheesy when I proposed it,” he replies, grunting and scratching the back of his head.
“Come on, I made you hot chocolate, and the biscuits are getting ready in the oven, we’ll put on some music, and we’ll have some fun,” you say, placing the cup on the coffee table to turn on the TV. “Are you sure you’re not having double thoughts about us?” You ask, stopping midway and looking as his eyes widen.
“What? Why?” His voice comes out as a high-pitched squeal as he feels panic run through his body.
“I don’t know, I thought Christmas was your favorite holiday and I wanted it to be special. But I feel like you’re not as excited as you are for other things and maybe you feel like we’re running or something…” you sigh. “Are you afraid I will disappoint your family? Maybe I’m not enough — I…”
“No, God, no,” he replies, shaking his head. “It’s just a lot, and I was wondering if we could get it all done this weekend, but it has nothing to do with us,” he says, walking to you, cupping your face in his hands.
“Hey, I love you, and I love this. Every little thing we’ve built and we’re building together. I admit I’m afraid for my family. Not a single ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend of mine ever met my parents so, yeah, this is a pretty big and scary step, but it’s with you. And truth be told, I’m not afraid because I don’t think this is serious, or because I think they won’t like you, confession time, my mom loves you already,” he says with a smile on his face. “I’m more scared you won’t like them, and well, that they will scare you away. I know you made some big steps forward, but… you still have your fears, and we both know sometimes they take over and sometimes you fall back into old habits. And it’s fine with me, I know how to deal with them and take care of you, but in this case, it’s not in my power, I can’t control them, and what if they say something wrong? What if they ask the wrong questions? I —”
You shut him with a kiss, pulling him close by the long hair covering his neck. “You sound just like me,” you joke, pulling away. “I know you don’t have control over them, I don’t need you to have it. I hope they can become my family too, and I’m ready to let them in, step by step. I’m so happy you worry so much about me, but I have it under control,” you laugh lightheartedly. “I don’t snap anymore when my brother is brought up, I don’t lie anymore, and I don’t run away. You taught me to always face my fears, right? And that’s what I’m doing. Maybe not all at once. Surely, I will need you to back me up at some point of the night, but I’ve got it, and I’ve got you, and… I’m ready.”
The look in his eyes feels like home and so does the warm smile on his face. “I love you so much. I’m so proud of you, I can’t even explain it in words,” he says, kissing you again.
“I know you are,” you reply, caressing his face. “I mean, the fact you’ve been keeping up with me for three years says it all.”
“Two,” he replies.
“Nah–ah, you’ve been keeping up with my mood swings and fucked up coping mechanisms since you fucked me in your car, or maybe even since we talked that night. I mean, that was my first lie to you, so…”
He chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Mhh, maybe I should take you out tonight and make a stop there, our parking spot. Wouldn’t it be romantic?”
“Mhh, yes, and then we can even smoke weed,” you add, laughing with him. “But I doubt we’ll be free from the Christmas tasks, so maybe next time?”
“Yes, Miss. If my agenda is not booked, I’ll find a spot to slip you in,” he jokes before leaving a peck on your forehead and stepping back, going back to the boxes on the floor.
You can’t control the smile on your face as you stare at him. This is your first holiday together and even if it has been a hell of a month for you in these past few years, you feel your heart explode with happiness right now. After everything he has done for you, you feel like you can finally pay him back, and do something that makes him happy. Haechan always told you how much he loves Christmas. Since he was a child, he felt that, after a year of sacrifices, his family could be together with fewer worries. It didn’t matter if there weren’t many gifts under the tree or no gifts at all, he was happy because his parents didn’t have to work, and they could pretend life wasn’t so hard for at least a few days. He also told you he loved how the cities would light up, and everything seemed better.
“Will you help with the lights, or do I have to do it by myself?”
You shake your head out of your thoughts and look up at him, shrugging. “No intention of doing so.”
“Oh, come on, I will end up tangled in this mess,” he whines, pouting and looking at you with those big eyes you can’t resist.
“Fine, but just because I really like you,” you say, walking to him, grabbing the other end of the lights.
“Only like me?” He pouts as you both start walking around the tree, parting the branches to fit the lights in between them.
“Mhh, sometimes I feel like I can barely stand you, so yeah, maybe liking you is too much, sorry about that,” you joke, making him scoff.
Setting up the place with decorations was the plan, but with Haechan you learned nothing goes as planned. You’ve gotten used to it, it doesn’t trigger you anymore, not that much, especially when you find yourself in this situation. Laying on the floor with him on top of you, kissing along your jaw as his hand creeps under your sweatpants to reach your panties. That’s another thing you’ve gotten used to, the way, after years, you two still can’t keep your hands off each other. It’s surely different from what it was before, there’s no more fear, anger, and destructive passion when you two have sex, but the chemistry is still the same, just healthier.
“Hyuck,” you moan when his finger teases your clit and slit, forcing your head to roll back on the cold hard ground. You could’ve easily moved this to the couch, but it was just easier to be there where you two ended up, the red decorations resting to the side, waiting to be finished. In your defence, you are almost halfway done; the tree is almost done, the small Santa clauses, reindeer, and trees are placed here and there on the shelves, and the strings of lights are running from corner to corner of the living room.
“You’re so wet,” Haechan teases, trails of wet kisses painting your face before reaching your pouting lips, “I wonder why,” he jokes, his typical smirk sitting on his face as he looks at your face.
Another thing you learned by dating Haechan, is that you will never get bored. He’s always thinking about something, coming up with ideas, planning things. He’s not much different from you after all, he simply doesn’t look over a plan more than twice (sometimes he doesn’t even get to the second time). This time it’s not any different. He was looking at you like a puppy that can’t wait to bite a bone, jumping on his seat on the floor as you two decorated with Christmas music filling the background. You know his eyes; when he looks at you without saying a word and just waits for you to catch up as if you can read his mind. You don’t get why he does it since he’s so impatient and surely not shy, but he finds it entertaining for some reason and you play along.
“What?” You had asked, struggling to hide the amused grin on your face when his lips curved in a smile.
“Want to try something new?”
Those five words, followed by a bet to see how long you would last with a small bullet vibrator inside of you before begging for him to give you more, are the reason you’re so wet. You thought it would be funny and he would go gentle on you, but you were so wrong. And it took you less than fifteen minutes to beg for him to make it stop.
“Don’t be so mad, I’m giving you what you want,” he pouts, kissing your puckered lips over and over.
“You’re not. You’re teasing, like always,” you groan.
“Am I?” he grins, pushing your hair back as he stares into your deadly glare. “Fine,” he groans, rolling his eyes back before bringing them back to you. “What do you want?”
Another loud grunt slips past your lips, but you quickly force words to come out. “Your fingers, please,” the last word is filled with sarcasm, and he gives you a stern glare at which you only shrug.
“You’re such a brat,” Haechan mocks, quickly flicking his fingers on your clit, watching with amusement as your eyes roll back and your teeth trap your lips to stop the loud moan to come out. “Is this enough?”
“No,” you whine. “Take the toy out and fuck me,” you order, but you only get a mocking laugh in reply.
“So bossy today. I let you decide so much already, I think you can leave this to me, uhm,” he teases as his fingers keep moving on your clit without giving you more.
You sigh defeated and relax, your shoulders drop back as you decide to just enjoy the sensation of his stimulation, the filling of the toy, and the light vibrations.
Just as he’s about to give you what you’ve been asking for, the loud sound of the doorbell stops you two in your tracks.
“Did you order something?” Haechan asks, hand still buried in your pants but still.
You shake your head, shrugging, thinking it’s nothing and ready to beg him to keep going, but the bell rings again and you huff loudly.
“The neighbor?” Haechan tries to guess again.
“She’s out, she told me a few days ago, it can’t — oh, goddamn,” you huff when it rings again.
But your doubts are soon answered when the front door swings open and your heart jumps in your throat.
“Is it possible that you two never hear the bell ring?”
“Johnny!” You scream, pushing Haechan’s hand away and him off your body roughly, trying to fix yourself the best you can and get on your feet.
“Oh, sorry,” your best friend looks at your dishevelled look with a grin on his face. “Interrupted something?”
You groan and simply throw a pillow at him in response, but it does him no harm as he quickly catches it even if he only has one hand free.
“No, we were decorating.” Haechan tries to save the situation, but you know it’s useless as you roll your head back and sigh again. Johnny’s not dumb, unfortunately.
“Oh, is it a new slang? I didn’t know we call it like that nowadays, interesting,” he teases, walking toward the couch. “I always learn new things from you two.” He kisses your forehead, and you don’t even push him away, but rub your eyes when he passes over you to greet your boyfriend.
“You can’t just burst in with no warning,” you sigh, turning around, watching as he studies the mess in the living room as if it’s his place.
“I rang three times, not my fault your boyfie didn’t think of pulling his hand out of your pants,” he shrugs before lifting his head and smiling at you.
“I’ll change the code, I swear,” you threaten, rubbing your temples.
“And I will still know it in case of an emergency. Just because you got yourself the love of your life it doesn’t mean you downgrade me, hey!”
Another loud annoyed sound comes out of your mouth, and you swiftly catch Haechan going red in the face after Johnny’s words, but you shake it off. “You wait for us to answer.”
“You could’ve said ‘I’m coming’ or ‘wait a second’, you know? That’s what normal people do,” he reminds you, placing the bags he’s carrying on the floor to take off his coat, and placing it on the couch.
“She swears it’s people that want to sell you something, so she looks out of the peephole and then pretends she’s not home,” Haechan explains.
“Bullshits, she wanted to leave her best friend to freeze to death in the corridor,” he dramatizes, lifting a hand on his forehead and faking passing out on the couch.
“You’re so dramatic,” you groan. “What do you even want?”
“It’s been two weeks since we’ve seen each other, and this is how you greet me?” He gasps offended.
“Don’t laugh,” you say to Haechan, who immediately stops laughing and apologizes with a shrug. “I’m sorry. How can we help, my dearest friend?”
“Fake,” Johnny gags. “But I brought you two something,” he says, patting the space on the couch for you to sit and then lifting two bags.
“Christmas is two weeks away,” you say. You already have your gifts, of course you do, but you still need to wrap them up like you want to. So, you hope these are not your presents because you wouldn’t be ready to give him yours.
“I know, it’s not a Christmas gift, it’s just a gift.”
Haechan raises a brow. “For us?”
“Yes,” he replies. “The first one is from my mom, it’s a cake.”
“You should’ve said that right away,” you say, grabbing the box from his hands. “It’s so pretty, and it’s going to taste so good. Thank her!”
“About that, you can do that if you come to my place tonight. I told her you won’t be with us this Christmas, she had a mental breakdown, so please, can you two don’t fuck tonight and come to my place?”
“We’re not perverts, you know,” Haechan scoffs.
“Not sure about that,” Johnny mumbles, and your boyfriend slaps his arm. “What? You two were never able to keep your hands off each other.”
“Look at him, rewriting history. You didn’t notice we were fucking until she told you!”
“Tell him, Hyuck,” you back him up from the kitchen where you’re placing the cake so it can be safe from the mess of the other room.
“Fine, but I still know you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Anyway, can we focus? The sooner I’ll leave, the faster you’ll go back to what you were doing.”
“Yeah, that’s — oh,” you stop, eyes widening when you hear the vibrations pick up again. “We’ll come.”
“I’m sure we will,” Haechan mutters under his breath and you glare at him, silently telling him to don’t even think about it, but he only smiles smugly and shrugs.
You clear your throat, trying to walk back to the couch as if nothing is going on, and urge Johnny to finish this soon.
“And this is a bag full of things my mom wanted you to have,” he says, handing you the other. “I don’t think it’s necessary anymore, you two got yourself a lot of things, but yeah…”
You grab it with shaky hands and look inside.
“Will she cry?” Haechan asks, and at the same time, you feel the vibration stop, which makes you chuckle under your breath with your head low. It’s sweet that he thinks adding fighting an orgasm to a breakdown is not a good idea.
Johnny thinks about it, leaning to the side to look at you, and then hums. “Probably.”
“I’ll take a look at this after, so I can break down crying with him alone,” you say, getting up, and stretching your arms out to hug Johnny. It’s your nice way to tell him you’re grateful, but also, he needs to leave. And it would work smoothly if only Haechan didn’t have other plans.
“We baked cookies, why don’t you stay for a while? What about a cup of coffee too?”
You glare at Haechan again when the vibrations start high, leaving you breathless, but quickly force yourself to smile at your friend.
“Yes, I love cookies and coffee!” Johnny cheers, wrapping an arm around Haechan as he guides him to the kitchen.
“Of course you do…” you whisper under your breath, rubbing your temples and following them in the kitchen.
You sit on a chair, hoping to bring yourself as little attention as possible, and that if you keep your thighs pressed enough you won’t come in your pants in front of your best friend. But Haechan is not exactly helping you, shifting the speed and waves so that you can’t ever get used to the sensation.
“The cookies are amazing,” Johnny moans after a bite and you try to give him a gentle smile.
“Thanks,” you dare to speak out, surprising yourself when you do with no sign of desperation.
“The place is coming together nicely, by the way,” he comments, walking to sit in front of you.
“We didn’t put up a lot, just the smallest things on the furniture,” Haechan comments, “and the tree, but well, we didn’t put on the balls so it’s empty.”
“Shit,” you cry out when he rises the speed, but you quickly play it cool by holding the back of your leg, “a cramp.”
Johnny’s eyebrows are raised in suspicion, not by your poor acting, but because Haechan isn’t on his knees in front of you in two seconds to make sure you’re alright, but he shrugs it away when your boyfriend asks if you need help.
“I’m fine,” you mutter, stretching your leg to keep playing the part and massaging the ‘sore’ muscle.
“So, what time should we be there tonight?” Haechan asks, and you hear he’s trying hard not to laugh.
“Seven, so my mom can annoy you with questions before dinner and then we can start and eat in peace,” Johnny says, thanking Haechan when he brings the coffee cup to the table.
“Your mom’s nice,” Haechan says, “and she’s an amazing cook. She will cook tonight, right?”
“Hey! I’m good too. But yes, she insisted, so the kitchen is all hers,” Johnny huffs, “even if I will hear her complain because my things are not where she would keep them.”
You try to laugh but quickly turn it into a silent giggle when you feel you can’t hold the sounds in easily anymore. Haechan’s hand is not in the pocket of his pants, busy preparing the last two cups of coffee, but the vibrations are stuck at the highest speed, and you’re squirming on the chair, nervously twitching your legs.
“I saw Mark and Minjeong yesterday,” Johnny changes the subject as he suddenly remembers. “We should organize something all together before the holidays. It’s been what? One month now, since we’ve all been out together?”
“We actually hung out with them last week,” Haechan says. “They finished remaking our old place and wanted us over.”
“Y’all are cutting me out of your lives, I don’t like this,” Johnny complains.
You roll your eyes. “We’re not,” you spit out, as fast as you can, so no shakiness slips from your lips. And then mutter a “Thanks,” to Haechan when he hands you the cup and then sits next to you.
“It’s just because it was my place before, they wanted me to see the changes,” Haechan explains. “But I think they’re planning something with all of us soon. They’re just… busy.”
Johnny quirks a brow. “Busy like you two bunnies or busy, busy?”
“Shut up!” You scream, glaring at him. But can you blame him? Right now, you two are proving his point. He just doesn’t know it.
“I’m kidding,” Johnny says, lifting his hands in the air before grabbing another cookie. “I know they are, Minjeong just changed her job, and Mark is Mark. But we should find a free weekend or something, we could even go to my beach house for New Year’s.”
“Yeah, why not,” you force out, one hand slipping under the table to squeeze Haechan’s thighs, telling him to lower the speed, but it’s useless, he acts as if you’re not even there.
“Can I change roommate this time? This one right here is a bit too clingy,” Haechan jokes, pointing at you with his head, making Johnny laugh.
You force out a small laugh, rubbing your sweaty palm against your neck to fill your silence with something.
“Man, I really need to find somebody,” Johnny sighs heavily, letting his head fall against the table theatrically. “You sweet couples make me feel so lonely.”
“Weren’t you going out with,” you stop, pretending to think of her name but, in reality, you’re trying to collect yourself and don’t focus on the pulsing of your pussy. “Hana?”
Johnny lifts his head and pouts. “We fucked.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it’s great, don’t get me wrong. But I’m too old for that, I want to settle down.” His hand points at your living room. “That shit out there? The cheesy lovemaking while setting up the place for Christmas? The way y’all live together? I can’t believe your cold-ass heart got it before me. I was Mr. Romantic, and look at me.”
You chuckle tenderly, caressing his hand, trying not to make it shake. “And… will it just be sex?”
“It’s not even exclusive. But it doesn’t matter ‘cause I broke it off,” he pouts.
“You’ll find someone,” Haechan chimes in. “You are husband material, it’s impossible you’ll stay single much longer.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he scoffs before his gaze falls on the clock. “Shit, I’m late, I have to go,” he says, jumping off the chair and walking to the living room. Haechan is quicker than you at following outside, but you feel like your knees could give up in two seconds, and you keep your hands tight in a fist, leaning against the door, watching him get dressed. “Thanks for the biscuits and the coffee, I had fun. See you tonight.”
“Bye! See you later,” you two greet, waving with your hands after he quickly hugs and kisses you both.
When Johnny is out of the door, you jump on Haechan, and he laughs. “You’re a monster. This is not funny!”
“A monster? You had fun, brat,” he teases, kissing you as he lifts you, walking into the living room, this time laying you on the couch. “And I won’t tease you anymore, I’ll give you what you want. But then we really have to wrap something up here and then get ready for dinner.”
This time he’s true to his word, quickly pulling your pants and panties down before leaning down between your legs, leaving pecks on your thighs before he kisses your clit, making your hips jolt.
A shaky sigh comes out of your lips when he pulls the toy out of you, leaving you empty before his fingers take its place without teasing. Your head rolls behind, this time meeting the softness of the couch, and your hands reach his arms, wrapping around them to hold onto something.
“You’re even wetter now,” he teases, looking down between your legs. Your cum dripping down, making a mess on your ass and his fingers. “You’re such a tease, you know? You can’t even deny how much having people watching or listening turns you on.”
You groan, hiding your face against the couch because all the teasing before already made it impossible for you to properly talk back.
“Look at me,” Haechan orders, but you shake your head. He scoffs, cupping your chin to turn your face around. “You’re such a brat today.”
You scoff, “me?”
“Yes, you,” he whispers close to your face, lips brushing against yours as a tease but leaving you without the kiss you crave so much. “Think I didn’t see you before? Sitting on your heels, desperately trying to get off without me noticing,” he mocks with a chuckle. “I have to say, you were smart, talking to me and distracting me, thinking I’m stupid. But I saw that, angel.”
Your body burns up in shame, and you once again try to hide, but his hold is firm, and you soon give up.
“Is this what you want? Are my fingers fucking you well?” He murmurs, biting your earlobe, making you moan louder.
“Ye-yes,” you cry out, planting your feet against the couch to have a solid hold as you grind your hips against him.
“Look at you,” he mocks, pulling back from your face, letting go of it to wrap a hand around your waist and push it down, eliciting another whiny complaint from you. “I guess they’re not enough if you’re grinding on them like that.”
You shake your head. “They are, I swear,” your voice breaks when his thumb presses against your clit, and your thighs fly shut.
“Oh no, baby,” he scolds, forcibly pushing your legs apart with his hand. “Keep those pretty legs open for me, you’re not going anywhere.”
“Please,” you cry out. “You edged me all afternoon.”
He laughs, throwing his head back. “All afternoon? Damn, sex really gets to your brain. If it’s been an hour, it’s a lot.”
You frown, trying to glare at him, but the furrow on your face only makes him smile.
“Fine, fine. It looks like you really want to come, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you reply weakly, but he doesn’t do anything.
“Just a bit more. You’re just so pretty like this. And your pussy squeezes so nicely around my fingers, these beautiful sounds,” he hums, pressing against your sweet spot, forcing more cum out of you in dirty squelches. And the lust in his voice just pushes you even closer to the edge.
“Haechan,” you cry out, eyes closing as your chest heavies more.
“Use your words, babe. You can do it.”
And you would do it easily if only his fingers didn’t pick up a faster rhythm, leaving you gasping for air as your eyes stare into his, the fake innocence and smugness behind them driving you insane.
“Hyuck, please, fuck, please let me come.”
“Mhh, you sound so pretty,” he coos happily. “Come on, I teased you enough. Come for me.”
And you do, finally letting go of all the pleasure you’ve been holding in for so long; it doesn’t matter if it’s the entire afternoon or just an hour. Your body trembles against his, your thighs would clench if only it wasn’t for his hand keeping you spread open, and your head rolls back as loud moans slip out.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Haechan moans, slowing down the pace of his fingers inside of you once he makes sure you’re done and then slowly takes them out.
“Kiss me!” You order, pulling him closer.
“You’re so bossy today,” he laughs when he moves away from the kiss, and you pout.
“I need you.”
“Yeah, I know.” He kisses you again. “Let me get out of my clothes, alright?” You hum, watching him get up to get out of his pants and underwear before trapping your body again. His lips meet yours, and your fingers run in his long hair, pulling hard enough to make him moan and rut his hips against you, but not enough to hurt him.
“Shit, turn around,” he orders, moving back enough to give you space to move as he helps you get in the position he wants.
When your face presses against the couch and your hips swing side by side, you hear him inhale deeply and mumble a curse under his breath.
“You’re so beautiful,” Haechan comments, hands cupping your ass before he leans in, kissing your neck.
“Please, fuck me,” you beg, ordering in a whiny voice.
“So fucking desperate,” he mocks, slapping your ass before placing a hand at the side of your face to keep his body up. The other grabs the base of his dick, the leaking tip pushing against your awaiting slit.
You moan shamelessly, driving your hips back, thinking he’s finally going to sink in, but he doesn’t. He rubs the head on your clit, making you shiver, tremble and whine.
“Please, don’t,” you cry, but he only laughs mockingly at you.
“Look at you,” Haechan taunts. “How long has it been? One week?”
“Two,” you mutter angrily. “Two weeks.” It’s not about the sex, per se, but you two have been so busy with work lately that you’ve barely had time to be together. Last week, he did go down on you, but it was quick since he had a phone call, and you didn’t even get the after-cuddles you love so much.
He snickers, throwing his head back as he keeps teasing, this time pushing the tip in and out, watching your hole stretch and then clench around nothing. “Sorry, sorry. You don’t want my mouth or fingers, you want my dick. Still,” he lowers, hot breath hitting your ear, “don’t you think it’s a bit pathetic after two weeks to be so desperate for me?”
You shake your head, biting your lips, moving your hips to grind against him and force him inside you somehow, but all with no success.
“Can you humiliate yourself even more, love?” He jokes.
“Hyuck,” you whine, searching for his hand. “Yes, I’m pathetic for you, are you happy now? Can you please fuck me? Or do I have to — fuck!” Your complaint gets shut down when he pushes into you, you’re so wet and relaxed he does it with no struggle, filling you deeply and leaving you breathless.
“Happy now?”
You nod quickly, smiling widely but letting out no words.
“Good, so something does satisfy you,” he groans, head falling back as he holds onto your hips.
You whine, wanting to scream that anything he does satisfies you and that you’re not that greedy, but you let it slip.
And then it comes, his face hides in the crook of your neck and one of his arms sneaks around you, keeping you close. And you love this, it drives you crazy to know you can have the roughest sex and most mind-blowing orgasms of your life while still being loved and cherished so much. You love it so much that you don’t push him away anymore, but let him sink deeper. All over you. Deep into you.
“Hyuck,” you call out his name, hand moving behind to search for his skin, and finding an arm.
“I know, babe, I know.” His lips leave kisses over your jawline, biting softly every now and then, and his eyes roll back when you clench around him. “Am I fucking you good?” He hums, moving your hair away so he can see your face. “Deep and nice, just like you love it?”
You nod in quick motions. Body squirming under his before it stills when you feel the toy press against your clit again and buzz against you. You let out a high-pitched cry, face pressing against the couch as your fingers fist the soft fabric.
“Hush, babe,” Haechan whispers against your ear. “We both know you love this.”
“Yes, but —” the words die in your throat.
“But, what?” He teases. “What’s wrong, honey?” He coos in a patronizing tone, and you groan.
He knows how easily you come when you use any type of vibrator. He has seen you come undone with them so many times you’ve lost the count. And he knows it’s even worse when he’s deep inside of you, hitting all your right spots while the vibrating toy keeps stimulating your sensitive clit.
“You — you know what,” you whine, trying to look back to pity him.
His movements stop completely, and the warmth of his body leaves you except the hand on your waist. “Mh, no, I don’t think I do.”
You whine louder, hips jerking up to urge him to pick up his thrusts again, and he does, snapping in and out of you like before.
“So, you won’t help me? I’ll have to find out the problem on my own?” He teases. “But… you want this faster?”
“No!” You yelp when he puts the toy at the highest setting, making you try to close your legs but with no success. “Hyuck, please,” your voice breaks, tears menacing to run down your face as you feel another orgasm build up in your stomach, fist closing incredibly tight around the pillow of the couch.
“Oh… my bad. Does it make you come too easily?” Haechan says, faking a tone of surprise as he leans closer to you, finally giving you the warmth of his body again. It’s funny how you avoided contact before, and how much you need it now.
You nod swiftly, biting your lips to muffle the messy moans.
“And my baby doesn’t want that?” He pouts, caressing your hair out of your forehead. “You were so mad I edged you for so long and now you don’t — fuck — want to come over and over again?”
You don’t answer, not with coherent words at least, and groan again.
“You can take it, I know you can,” he groans, inhaling deeply as he lifts his body and throws his head back. He teases you a lot but he’s just as sensitive and desperate. Two weeks too long since he had you, and your body is so responsive, clenching and dripping around him, making him go insane too.
“Let’s come together, ugh?” He moans. “Then I’ll fuck my cum deep inside of you and you’ll come just one last time.”
A guttural moan slips from your mouth at his words, the idea of him fucking his cum into you over and over until he’ll fill you up with another load driving you insane.
“Close,” you mutter.
“Yeah, me too,” he groans, “come.”
Your body lets go, orgasm setting free like a trigger, sending shivers down your spine. Your lips are free from the hold of your teeth, not caring if you’re too loud and someone might hear. It feels too good to hold back. Not only for the pleasure itself, but for the way your boyfriend’s hands run on your hot skin, how his moans and whimpers fill your ears, and especially the sensation of his cum filling you up. When his hips still against you, and his whole body presses you down, you’re still shaking from the aftermath.
Your eyes flutter shut when he starts moving again, barely giving you the time to come down from your high.
“You feel so good, I could stay buried in this sweet pussy for days,” Haechan moans, hiding in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and leaving kisses on your skin.
You moan, letting your body relax to the feeling of him being all over you. One arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand roams around your body, caressing your stomach, your boobs, your thighs, everything he can find.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he comments when he lifts his head, not enough to unstuck his chest from your back but enough to look at your wrecked face. “Most beautiful thing in the world.”
You melt at his comments, feeling warmth in your stomach, this time not given by pleasure but love. You are loved, wholeheartedly, completely, and endlessly. Every part of you, every flaw, every masterpiece. Haechan doesn’t leave anything behind. He loves you. Deeply. Constantly. Inhumanly. Because you still can’t believe it’s possible for someone to love so much, especially when it comes to you. But he proves it to you every single day, from the sweet words to these passionate moments.
“Ki-kiss me,” you mumble, pouting until his lips are on yours. The position is a bit uncomfortable but you two make it work anyway. Kissing each other over again, going from deep kisses to pecks.
“Fuck, pretty,” he groans. “You’re taking me so well. My dick stretching you out, my cum filling you up, so much of it we’re making a mess. You love being my messy princess, don’t you?”
You nod. “Yes — yes, love it.”
“I know, princess, I know. Dripping all the way down my balls, drooling on the couch, staining it with your pretty tears.” Now that you’ve opened up to him and cried more than just once in front of him, he loves these tears even more because they are good tears, caused by him not because he’s hurting you but because he’s making you feel good. And he’s obsessed with it, with the way your eyes look. Long lashes clumped together, looking even thicker and longer.
You’re about to beg him to go faster, but he obeys without you opening your mouth. Hips snapping fast against you, body pushing you even further against the soft couch.
A small giggle escapes your lips when his hand searches and then finds your hand, intertwining your fingers while the other cups your ass cheek before leaving a small slap.
“Shit, ever told you I fucking love your ass?”
You hum, nodding. You’d use some words, but the bliss is too strong to let you do anything other than whimpering and moaning. Your clit is swollen, throbbing hard, extra sensitive with all the vibrations of the toy before, and each slap of Haechan’s balls against it leaves you gasping for air.
Your hips squirm away, there’s not much room to go since your head is already pressed between the seat and the armrest, but you still slip a bit forward and Haechan chuckles darkly close to your ear.
“Running away, sweetheart?” The condescending, saccharin-sweet tone makes more shivers run down your spine, toes curling up and stomach twisting.
Your head moves in incoherent movement, and your hand holds his tighter for support. You feel like your head is spinning, and if it seemed like a good idea to keep the sweater on, now it feels like hell is on your skin.
“You can take it, can’t you?” He asks, voice genuinely sweet this time, but his body is not more clement with you. The harsh sounds of his pounding are still filling the room, drowning out the Christmas music that’s still playing on the TV — thank god the playlist moved to an instrumental one, or some classics would be ruined forever with these filthy moments in your mind.
You nod, but he’s not happy with a non-verbal question. Unless you’re fucked out, completely fucked out, he wants to hear your voice when he asks if you can take more.
“Words. I need words,” Haechan reminds you a bit more sternly, and you whine. “Come on, talk now, ‘cause soon that pretty mouth of yours will be stuffed full.”
With the risk of choking on your own saliva, you let out a barely audible “yes.”
“Good girl, that’s my good girl,” he praises with a long hum, caressing your burning hot cheek before ordering you around again. “Open those pretty lips for me, will you?”
You obey with no hesitation, ready to take anything he gives you. And when two fingers press down your tongue your mouth immediately closes to suck on them, eyes fluttering shut, pussy clenching around him and ass arching up.
“Fuck, knew you would’ve loved this,” he groans.
Over the years, you realized Haechan loves doing this. To you, it’s funny because he rarely lets you go down on him, always whining because he has to eat you out, so 80% of the time, when it’s time for oral, you’re always on the receiving end. You don’t complain, you honestly think it’s a blessing he’s so obsessed with eating you out, but you don’t understand why he’s obsessed with watching you suck his fingers and not as obsessed with watching you suck his cock.
His moans get louder and whinier and you feel your stomach turn upside down and your core get even wetter. You almost bite him when his other hand moves from your hips to your clit, rubbing it, making you arch your ass up at the overstimulation.
Your wet eyes look up at him, begging him for release, but there’s not much to beg since you’re squeezing him, and he’s overstimulated too.
When his fingers leave your mouth, you gasp, taking in all the air, and start slurring his name. “Hyuck, Hyuck, please, wanna — wanna come, please.”
He leans down, kissing you. It’s a messy, wet kiss, with lips and teeth clashing, and your hand desperately reach for his body. “Come with me, princess. You deserve it.”
The orgasm breaks through you, a tingling sensation of pleasure running through your bones making you squirm against his body pressing you down. With one last strong thrust inside of you, you can’t control the jet of liquid squirting out of you.
A string of curses comes out of you, but Haechan is quick at shutting it up with more messy kisses and quick movements to ride the pleasure out. “It’s alright, you’re alright, you’re alright, babe. Shh, calm down, it’s fine. You did great.”
Your body slumps against the fabric and you let the warmth of his skin warm you up as you come down from the high. Haechan never stops whispering sweet words in your ear, kissing and caressing you, as he slowly — and reluctantly — pulls out of you.
“Fuck,” he murmurs when cum starts spilling out of you. “We made a mess.”
You chuckle, shrugging. “We’ll clean it up,” you say. “Later.”
He laughs, but turns you around, after laying against the backrest, pulling you close to him. “Want some well-deserved cuddles?”
“Yes please.”
“Will you see what’s in the bag?” Haechan asks when he comes out of your bedroom, all cleaned up after the shower you quickly took together, and sees you stare down at the brown bag Johnny brought.
You shrug. You don’t know what’s inside, you could barely get a glimpse when you peeked before, but something makes you fear there will be too many memories, and you’re not sure you’re ready for them all.
Your head turns around when you feel the couch bend with Haechan’s weight, and it immediately finds his shoulder to rest. His arm wraps around you, sneaking under your sweater to rub your skin, and you sigh.
“You don’t have to, not right now,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.
“But I do, I have to see her tonight, and I want to thank her.”
“Okay but if anything triggers you, promise me you’ll stop?”
“Promise,” you reply and then you flip it over on the floor. You can feel Haechan’s persistent gaze on you and you feel some sadness wash over you, but you feel fine for now. And then a smile appears on your face.
“I didn’t know she had our socks,” you say, grabbing the red stockings with reindeer and elves, and studying them. The fabric it’s a bit ruined over time, but they still look the same, and you can still picture them hanging, either on Johnny’s fireplace or on the furniture your family put them on. Your fingers graze over your brother’s name and you smile fondly. “Can we hang them? So I… so I can pretend there will be something for him too?” You ask, turning to Haechan that’s already apprehensively staring at you.
“Of course, we can even fill his with something, if you want to,” he proposes, but you shake your head. The idea of the gifts being left there would just make you sad, but this is a good compromise.
“Our scarves!” You bend over to grab them. “We knitted them, and I think you can see it,” you chuckle, fingers running over the bumps in the wool and other imprecision.
“Better than me if I would try now. My mom is excellent at it, she made me try once and I made way worse than this,” Haechan says, grabbing the other scarf and noticing that it’s not perfect but not even terrible.
“I’ll keep in mind to ask your mom for this one,” you say, cuddling up to him.
“Nope, you won’t,” he jokes, shaking his head with vigor, slightly blushing.
There are other things in there, but mostly decorations, there’s even a Christmas decoration that you loved when you were a kid, and you’re so grateful she gifted it to you. But then Haechan is attracted by something else. “What is this?” he asks, lifting a gingerbread plush, and your heart sinks in your chest.
Not a word comes out of your mouth for almost a minute, as you try to get some saliva in your mouth. “It’s — it’s me…”
Haechan studies your expression and immediately puts it away, but you stop him.
“I’m fine,” you mumble. “I just… I need time…”
“I don’t need to know, it’s fine, really,” he reassures you, touching your hand, but you shake your head.
“No, I want to,” you say. You wet your lips and fidget with your fingers before taking the plush in your hesitant hands.
“It’s not a Christmas gift, but it’s the last gift I got from him… a few days before his death. He called me gingerbread because I was obsessed with gingerbread men as a kid. Honestly, I was terrorized by them, they were men, I thought I was committing cannibalism, but then I tried one and I loved being a cannibal,” you chuckle, voice shaking as you fight back tears. “And when I grew older, I wanted to make them myself, I wanted them to be our family thing, but they never became one. My parents worked until the 24th and didn’t have time to wake up early and make them with me, so it was only me and my brother. He would always wake up early with me and help me make them.”
“You didn’t make gingerbread men today,” Haechan points out.
“No, those are for the Eve and Christmas,” you say resolutely. “Don’t worry, I will make them for you,” you giggle, and he smiles.
“Go on, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I would be worried sick too to be left without my cookies,” you joke before turning serious. “A week before his death he walked in a street market and saw this,” you shake the plush in your hands and smile, “and he gifted it to me. He told me that it wasn’t Christmas, so that was a sign that he had to buy it for me and that it was scandalous that in fifteen years he never gifted me anything related to gingerbread men. And I remember that… I laughed so much when I saw it because it’s cute but also weird. The eyes are slightly not on the same level, the smile is funny, and the white lines are all different, this one doesn’t even reach the seam. And he told me that that made it even more special and that I’ve never been normal, so it was even more me.”
“It looks like you now that I look better at it,” Haechan says, there’s a hint of irony but also sweetness in his voice.
You chuckle, wiping away a tear. “He used to often remind me he would always protect me, but when he gave me that, there was something different. And even if that was me, it was almost his way of telling me that he was always going to be with me, that’s why he had bought two. But his one was normal, and he kept it in the car.”
“You can stop,” Haechan says as soon as he guesses when this is going, but you shake your head.
“I held onto this toy for days at the hospital and it was the last thing he held before he… well… you know.” Your voice is broken by tears, the same ones that are rolling down your cheeks, but you’re fine. “I hated this, I hated that his got lost, destroyed, I don’t know, I… never dared to watch the conditions of the car after. I hated it because it was supposed to be me and this gingerbread man, not him. I hated it because it had lost his other half but didn’t feel half the pain I felt. So I threw it away.”
“But…”
“Is still here… yes. Because it’s me, and I survived,” you say, chuckling. “No, I’m kidding, no paranormal shits, it’s simply Johnny, I guess. He always knew what was better, and he must’ve kept it to the side, waiting for the right moment to bring it back to me.”
Haechan hums, his thumb still caressing your palm. “Are you mad?”
You raise your head, wiping away the tears. “No, I’m glad he always knows what to do with me. If you think you met me at my worst, you have no idea what Johnny had to go through when it all happened. He had to see the joyful, reckless, funny little girl he always knew turn into a cryptic, scheming, and cold woman from day to night and still decided to stick with me. He saw me at my worst, literally…” you breathe out. Another reason why you don’t like to think about back then is because you hate who you were.
“You deserved him, you deserved to have someone that didn’t judge you or blame you.”
You shrug. “I don’t know… I gave him a good dose of shit to deal with, as if he wasn’t mourning my brother too.”
“You know, from all these conversations we had over the past months, and after I could see what you have with Johnny from a closer point of view, I think you’re missing something.”
“Me?”
Haechan nods.
Your lips twitch in a wince, it’s been a while since Haechan taught you a life lesson, but usually you can see where he’s going, right now, you have no idea. “And what is it?”
“You always say that Johnny is like your brother, but Johnny is your brother. The three of you were raised together, his mom loves you as if you’re her daughter, and we all know that your brother trusted him with you so much that Johnny promised him to always keep you safe. Johnny didn’t choose to stay because he’s a good friend, but because you’re his sister, and because after losing his brother, he wasn’t going to lose you too. Maybe you hurt him, I truly don’t know what you two have been through, but he loves you so unconditionally that I’m sure he doesn’t regret it. And he would stick by your side over and over again.”
You smile fondly and hum. “You’re right, but I guess I’ll never get free of my guilt, will I? I mean, I still feel so bad for everything I put you through, no amount of good things happening between us makes me feel at peace with myself.”
“Not to take your therapist’s place but remember what she told you? Why you love to punish yourself for every little thing?”
You pout, nodding silently. Your awareness of you not being the cause of your brother’s death didn’t make the deepest parts of you aware in the same way. Something unconscious was still screaming at you, urging you to punish yourself even when there was forgiveness from the other side.
“Can you hug me? I don’t know what else to say,” you confess, and he smiles at you, pulling you into a hug. It lasts for minutes. Minutes of silence, heartbeats, and nothing more. Comfort. Peace. Healing. And when it breaks apart, you smile, feeling another brick of your walls falling down.
“Do you want to put this in a nice place or are you using it to take over your anger?”
You smile, grabbing the plush. “I want to put it somewhere nice.”
You never felt so much anxiety run through your bones as you do right now; pacing back and forth in the living room, staring obsessively at the clock, waiting to hear the ring of the bell that will mean such a big change for you.
You might’ve underestimated what meeting your boyfriend’s parents (and family) truly meant. All the hype you had until two weeks ago, disappeared when you remembered you had never met any of your partner’s parents before.
“Okay, enough.” Haechan jumps off the couch and stops you midway, blocking your arms. “I usually let you do your weird things, but you will consume the floor if you keep doing this and you will drive me insane.”
“But I’m nervous,” you whine, starting to torture your lips.
“Oh my god, stop that too,” he says, pulling your lower lip out of your teeth with his thumb. “Move and you’ll see,” he warns when he sees you lift your hand, knowing it will end up in your mouth to pull at your hangnails.
You sigh defeated and slump on the couch. “I’m nervous.”
“I got it,” he says, sitting next to you. “They’re chill, I promise.”
“But I was fine before. Maybe this is a gut feeling, you know? Something is telling me this will go wrong…”
“Yeah, and that something is your paranoid ass. Babe, come on. You’re perfect.”
You’re far from perfect, and sometimes you wish you could see yourself from his eyes to see what he sees of you because you struggle to see the amazing things he notices about you. And you fear his family will be extremely disappointed when the fantasies his son tells them through the phone won’t meet the reality.
Haechan is about to open his mouth again when the intercom rings, and you freeze.
“Come with me,” he smiles, reaching out a hand, tapping his feet when it takes you too long to take it. “Babe, come on.”
“I’m gonna pass out,” you mumble as your hand reaches him and you get up from the couch. Haechan sighs deeply as he basically drags you to the intercom to open the door on the floor.
“You’ll be fine,” he says, trying to shrug off what he’s feeling. Now that you’re so anxious, he can’t help but feel it too. Maybe this was too soon, maybe you’re not ready, maybe this will be the breaking point and he will lose you again.
But then the doorbell rings, and you’re the first to reach out your hand and open the door.
“Hi, mom,” Haechan greets when he sees you’re struggling to find the words and throws himself in her arms to give you time to take it all in.
“Hyuck,” she says, her calm tone filled with love, “look at you.” Her hands cup his cheek and squeeze them roughly, making him groan, and you chuckle. “And look at you,” she adds, bringing her attention to you.
“Hello, Mrs. Lee,” you greet, bowing at 90°, but she laughs, and you freeze.
“Oh, honey, please, just come here and let me give you a warm welcome to the family,” she encourages you, opening her arms.
You quickly glance at Haechan, silently asking if this is a test, but he reassures you with a smile and nods in her direction. So, you step forward and hug her.
“You smell so good, honey,” she compliments, squeezing you before letting you go, and resting her hand on your shoulder. “And wow. Haechan kept talking about you and I guessed you were pretty but not like this, you’re beautiful.”
“You’re too kind, Mrs. Lee,” you say, lowering your head to hide how shy you feel right now. “You look beautiful too, now I know why Haechan is so handsome.”
She chuckles and then pats your arm. “Thanks, sweetheart. And just call me by my name, please.”
“I will.”
“So, where are the others?” Haechan asks, looking behind his mom and seeing the empty corridor.
“We brought something, your dad is taking everything from the car, and your siblings are helping him,” she explains, lifting her bags as you let her come in. “I wanted to dim her trauma of meeting the whole family at once, so I came here as soon as we parked.”
Haechan rolls his eyes, grabbing the bag. “Food?”
“It wasn’t necessary, we prepared everything,” you say.
“I’ll never show up at your house with empty hands, darling,” she replies. “Also, I wanted you to try some of my specialties, I couldn’t wait anymore.”
A warm smile spreads on your face as you feel you can finally breathe again. Maybe this won’t be a disaster. “I can’t wait to taste them.”
Haechan was right. His family is loud. But it’s a kind of loudness you missed for so long, you can’t complain. His family is nice, and you can easily slide into conversations with them. The afternoon was mostly calm, you talked to get to know each other and ease the tension, you showed them the house —there wasn’t much to show, but they appreciated it anyway— and you even talked about future plans.
But now you’re alone in the kitchen, placing the plates you used for the appetizers in the sink, and when you smell smoke, you know it’s time for everything that went well until now to turn into a mess.
“Oh God, fuck no,” you curse under your breath, blocking your nose with your hand as you wave away the smoke from the oven and try to open it. “Not tonight, it can’t be fucking possible.”
“Hey, what’s going on — oh,” Haechan says, entering the kitchen after he hears the clattering and your murmuring.
“It burned. I burned the fucking lasagna. I have to make a good impression on your family and I burn it, I just burn it,” you almost cry, panicking over the burned pasta in the oven dish that now sits on the countertop. “Everything was supposed to be perfect, I had it all planned, and now, oh my god, the meat, check the meat,” you rant, turning around to check the oven again.
Haechan sighs, head peeking out of the kitchen door. “Sorry, just wait a sec, we’ll be there with the first,” he warns his family before locking the door behind him, not waiting for their answer. It’s not like they care much, busy eating bread, drinking delicious wine, and still admiring the beautiful job you and him did with the decorations.
“Hey, look at me,” he says, blocking you in place. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. It was supposed to be the first big serving of our dinner,” you whine, furrowing. “Our first Christmas dinner together and I fuck it up.”
“You didn’t,” he says, looking behind you, trying to hide his face because yes, it is burned, but he’s sure you can find a solution. You two always do. “We’ll fix it.”
“I won’t serve your family a burned lasagna, I refuse,” you cry, hiding in the crook of his neck. “What will your mom think of me?”
He chuckles. “Really? My mom is in love with you, she didn’t stop complimenting you for one second. The way you look, how smart you are, how pretty this place is and how well you keep it, the delicious food you’ve prepared. I’m sure she’ll have a story for a burned something too, come on.”
“No, let’s take the first layer off,” you say, pushing him away. “It’s ugly.”
“First,” he says, coughing, “we’ll open the window, alright? I don’t want to poison ourselves.” You watch him as he does and then go back to the mess in front of you. “And now, let’s fix this.”
You two take the first layer off, but you don’t feel better, that’s not supposed to be the last layer. You put so much love into it, finishing it with mozzarella and cheese, and now it’s burnt.
“It looks terrible, they will think I don’t know how to cook,” you huff.
“I know how to fix it, any parmesan cheese left?” Haechan asks, and you nod, opening the fridge to hand him the box with it in it. You watch him as he puts it on, hiding the tomato sauce, and making it look a bit better, and you think that he’s always the one fixing your mistakes. “See? It’s perfect now.”
You groan because it’s not what you planned. But it’s still better than before. “Let’s not make them wait longer.”
“Everything alright? Something happened in there?” His father asks when you two come out of the kitchen, closing the door behind, so the air in there can change, but you won’t freeze in the living room.
“Yeah, just a minor problem,” Haechan explains sitting the dish down, and you know he wants to pretend nothing happened, but you can’t keep it in.
“I burned it,” you confess. “I’m sorry, but I got distracted here talking and I forgot about it, and I burned it. And we took the burned part out, but this is not my lasagna. I’m a master at it, and I’m sorry this mess is your first encounter with it.”
“Oh, sweetie,” his mom says, “all the things I burned all the time. Try to manage four little demons and it will be surprising when you don’t make mistakes in the kitchen.”
“Hey! We’re angels,” his youngest brother, Dongwook, complains. “Also, can I have the burned part? I love it when it’s crispy.”
“It’s burnt, not crispy, it’s bad for you,” you say, but his big eyes pleading you, make you look at his parents for approval.
“Can you bring it here, please? We’ll see how bad it is,” his father says.
“Dad, Dongwook, you don’t need to see it,” Haechan intervenes, and you know he’s doing it to protect you but you reassure him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Sit, it’s fine. I’ll go take it.”
You take a deep breath and enter the kitchen again before coming out with the plate with what you and Haechan took off. “Here’s the mess.”
“This is not burnt,” Dongwook jumps in his seat, grabbing the plate and smiling happily. “You took out the best part!”
You look at his mother with concern because that is burned, maybe not a lot —you took out the completely black parts and only kept what could be somehow saved, less than half of the top layer— but it’s not crispy either.
Mrs. Lee just shrugs and tells you not to worry with a wave of the hand and you relax a bit.
“If it’s not good you don’t have to eat it, we have the meat, it’s still cooking, but it’s good,” you say as Haechan puts a slice in each plate. “I’ll get up in a few minutes to make sure that won’t burn.”
“Why are you so stern with yourself?” His sister, Dasom, asks and you freeze.
“Dasom,” Haechan scolds.
“What?” She scoffs. “She’s cool, if I was her, I would be annoying in the opposite way.”
You chuckle and lower your head because they’re so nice to you.
“You can’t ask people you’re not close with these questions,” he retorts, clearly not caring that her comment was supposed to be a positive one.
“It’s fine, Hyuck,” you say, reaching for his hand now that he’s sitting back at its place next to you. “I’m just a bit nervous and I want this dinner to go well. I wanted everything to be as perfect as I planned and…” when things don’t go as planned, I go insane, your son and brother was a victim firsthand, “…when they don’t, it just throws me off a bit. But it’s fine.”
“Shit!” Daehyun, the middle child, screams.
“Ya!” Mrs. Lee slaps his arm, glaring in an admonition to not say swear words.
“This is good!” he says, ignoring his mother. “Perfect. Girl, if this is not your best lasagna your best one is Star Michelin worth it!”
“Oh, no, that’s too much,” you say, starting to breathe again because for a moment you feared he had found a bone or nerve or something else in it. But you can’t hide the smile on your face when the entire family praises you, the little one even telling you to always burn it because he loves the crispy layer. You’re sure they’re exagerating a bit to cheer you up, but you still think it’s kind enough that they care to put a smile on your face.
Haechan nudges you subtly. “Told you,” he whispers, and you smile.
“I’m glad you like it,” you say, shyly meeting their gazes and feeling full as you stare at their happy faces.
And you remind yourself that it’s fine if things don’t always go as planned, sometimes mistakes and unforeseen can bring nice things. If it wasn’t for the unexpected, you wouldn’t have Haechan by your side and you wouldn’t be having a happy Christmas dinner with your new family.
You’re happy, and you feel at home.
“Mom,” Haechan whines, hiding his face against your shoulder before lifting it again, letting out another heavy sigh, “you didn’t have to bring the photo album here.”
“Oh, she did,” you chuckle, sitting better on the couch to be turned toward his mom who’s sitting next to you with the book resting on her legs.
You feel Haechan’s head rest against you again, this time completely given up and ready to face the humiliation.
“Are there embarrassing pics of us too?” His sister asks, sitting on the arm of the couch, leaning on her mom.
“Probably,” Mrs. Lee giggles before opening the book.
As the photos pass by, you can’t help but wonder why he’s so embarrassed. “You haven’t changed a bit,” you say, turning to him, moving your arm so you can wrap it around his shoulder, and his head presses against your chest.
“Thanks, exactly what I needed to hear,” he scoffs, his voice filled with sarcasm.
“You still have the same smile,” you point out, “and the mischievous grin.”
“Oh, that has always been him. Every time he did something he wasn’t supposed to do, or ruined something, that little smirk was there. I couldn’t even get mad at him,” his mom explains, and you smile at the image forming in your mind.
“Don’t pout,” you pinch his cheek, making him yelp, “it’s cute.”
“As long as you don’t have any from my teenage years, we’re fine,” he says, making his siblings laugh. “It’s not funny. You had the same phase as me,” he points at the two oldest, “and you are in it right now.”
“I’m not. I’m cool, unlike you.”
Haechan rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Look at this!” You scream, pointing a finger at a picture of him at the pool, he’s wearing a life vest and has a pool float around him, and his smile is so big as he waves at the camera with both hands.
“We went to the pool that day, he didn’t know how to swim, he even ate with the lifesaver on,” his dad says, eliciting another groan from him.
“Stubborn even as a child,” you joke, intertwining your hands.
“Let’s not get there,” his sister rolls her eyes, and Haechan pokes his tongue out in reply.
“You have curly hair?” You ask after seeing other pictures of him.
“Wavy, I would say,” he replies, shrugging.
“You look even softer like this. How did you not want to bite him every two seconds?” You ask his mom, and she laughs.
“The cuteness of his face really saved him from a lot of troubles,” she says. “Remember when you stole Mrs. Park’s apples?”
“I didn’t steal them, I had no idea about capitalism and economy. She gave them to me once, and I thought I could just take them,” he explains. “Turns out the real world is not that easy.”
“Uhm, a young thief, I didn’t know you were such trouble,” you tease, and he glares at you but then breaks in a laugh. “But seriously, you should wear your natural hair more often, I always thought you would perm them somehow or steal my products to curl them, I had no idea they were natural.”
“I always told him he looked better like that, never listened,” Dasom chimes in. “But I’m sure he will listen to the love of his life,” she mocks in a high-pitched voice and Haechan throws her a pillow.
You’d laugh at their exchange if only being called ‘the love of his life’ didn’t make your brain short-cut for a few seconds and send the beats of your heart to an insane rhythm.
“The love of your life, ugh?” You whisper.
“You know you are,” he says, smiling at you. “Or does this scare you away?”
“Not even your emo phase scared me away, so nope, I don’t think this will.”
“Hey! You didn’t see that yet.”
“But we’re getting close, the middle school years are around the corner,” his mom says.
The middle school years don’t scare you away, if it’s possible it all makes you love him even more. But the pictures you loved the most were the ones of the family. The ones where he’s holding his sibling after their births, the ones with them on their bikes, on a swing, while playing football or going down a slide. The ones of their summers, mostly at the few parks they had near because it was hard to go somewhere else, but it didn’t matter. You find yourself in them, glimpses of your family and the struggles you went through, always ending in little things that were enough to make everyone happy because being together was all that mattered. And you find yourself in them even now, as they talk, telling you stories, bickering over details that are insignificant but at the same time mean everything, teasing each other in ways only siblings can do. And you miss that, you feel a deep hole in your chest as you watch Haechan laugh with his sister. The way he talks to her, teases her, but at the same time has her back, reminds you of your brother and you. You feel the same void when you look at his parents, how they smile at their kids, the gentle touches of his mom, and the awkward way of demonstrating love of his dad. It all brings you home, and you wonder for a second what it would’ve been like… if only your parents were there too, if only the holiday weren’t such a slap in the face.
But after the cold shower, you feel a warm embrace. When his mom’s touch reaches you with soft pats on your knees or shoulder. When his sister talks to you to side against him. When his dad tells you he will show you how to carve wood. When his brothers eat your gingerbread men and keep praising you.
What could’ve been doesn’t matter because there is something now. This is good. You see a light at the end of the tunnel. You feel that your ‘what ifs’ might turn into reality one day, that maybe not next year, but in three, your family will be here too, and you will tell your stories just the same. Because you have a lot of them, and you’re sure your parents would get along with Haechan’s so well. This is warm. There’s not the cold of your lonely apartment or the awkward, abrupt silence as Johnny’s mom went back to her words, terrified of ruining your day. The void that opened in your heart is easily filled by them, and even if you can’t follow everything perfectly, and sometimes it gets overwhelming, you have Haechan’s hand on yours. He never leaves it, it’s there, right on top of yours, caressing your skin, keeping you grounded.
But then the question everyone has avoided comes. It’s like a drop falling on a vase full to its brim, and it freezes you and Haechan right on the spot.
“Can I ask where are your parents?”
“Mom,” Haechan is the first to talk, the stern gaze he gives his mom makes you feel worse than the question she asked.
“Sorry, I… I didn’t know, I thought she wanted maybe a break to call them or —”
“Mom!”
“It’s fine,” you stop him, looking into his eyes to calm him. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to tell them. They were doing fine without knowing anything,” he replies, looking at you. You can feel the anger in his voice and his eyes.
“I can tell bits,” you say. “Small steps, remember? You taught me that.”
You can feel the confused gazes in the room, and the attention annoys you more than having to explain yourself.
When you turn around, you see his mom, who is about to apologize again, but you stop her by lifting your hand. “My parents are not here,” you say. “I mean it’s obvious, and I guess you want to know why. I’m…” you chuckle nervously. “I’m pretty sure we… we go along well, and we’re family now… right?” You ask hesitantly.
“Yeah, of course, you were family the moment I saw Haechan’s eyes shine bright when he spoke about you,” his mom says, and you smile.
“Good. And families should be open with each other, but there are some things I… I still want to keep to myself.”
When Haechan hears your voice shake, he places his hand on your back, and you relax at the touch. “Me and my parents basically don’t talk anymore. We text for the birthdays, and the important holidays but that’s it. There’s a reason behind it and I think no one is to blame, something happened and the three of us reacted badly, so I don’t want you to think they’re bad.”
“We’re sorry,” they say at the same time, and you chuckle.
“We would never think that anyway, not without knowing people’s stories,” his mom says. “I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t think that since you didn’t bring it up, you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m glad you did, so you at least know this of me,” you reassure her. “And I’m sorry I’ve been quiet about myself. I prefer present-me to past-me, especially if I can’t talk about… if I can’t tell the full story.”
“It’s like Haechan’s middle school pictures,” his sister says, clearly to take some pressure off your shoulders, and you laugh. “Imagine seeing the photos and not telling that he did that to get a girl’s attention.”
“Dasom, it was a serious moment!” Haechan says.
“What? She laughed! She’s prettier when she laughs, and she was sulking. You shouldn’t want to see your girlfriend sad,” she justifies, sipping on her drink, and you high-five her.
“I don’t like you two being so close,” he jokes, pulling you back next to him. But with the corner of your eyes, you notice that his face is much more relaxed now.
“But seriously, I… I thought I could talk about it, I do with him,” you say, pointing at Haechan. “But your stories were so happy and I miss that kind of thing, you know, a family like yours, so I prefer to listen to you. It made me happy, and I don’t want to make me and all of you sad.”
You can see the pity behind their eyes. They don’t know what happened, but they can guess, and anything it’s not a happy guess, so they’ll want to tell you something but you stop that from happening.
“And since it’s almost midnight, and we need to open the gifts soon, why don’t we lighten the mood with some music?” You say, standing up. “Dasom, what about your karaoke?”
She gasps, staring at Haechan behind you. “You told her?”
“Of course, I needed her to be ready.”
“I wouldn’t have done that here, with her, on our first meeting,” she says.
“But I want you to, I used to do it with my brother, so it would mean the world to me.” You see that when you talk about your brother it’s like she realizes it, something makes her understand what happened, but she doesn’t say anything. She smiles, gets up, and grabs your hand. You jokingly find yourself thinking that if anything will ever go wrong with Haechan, you might try to date her.
“I’ll go get something else to drink,” Haechan says, getting up, “you two monsters come with me.”
The rest of the night goes smoothly. You sang for a while before sitting on the floor around the coffee table to eat the dessert you and Haechan’s mom prepared. Popped the champagne when the clock hit midnight, exchanged gifts (his mother gave you two homemade matching sweaters, they were so beautiful you struggled to have a normal reaction), and then played board games.
“I really wish you could stay but this place is so small, I wouldn’t know where to make you sleep,” you say when you’re exchanging goodbyes.
“You worry too much, honey,” Mrs. Lee says, hugging you. “Everything was perfect, from this afternoon to the dinner, and then the photos, the singing. I never had so much fun. And you know what, I was truly sorry for your lasagna, but it was so nice to not be the one that has to worry about that for once,” she jokes, eliciting a quiet laugh from you.
“I’m glad you had fun. I never planned a Christmas dinner before, and I feared making you come here from the afternoon would’ve bored you or something, but I think it was a great idea.”
“It was. And for being your first time, you were amazing. You have nothing to worry about, also the mistakes and the funny things end up in the stories we tell in the years to come, right?”
“Right.”
“Get dressed,” she orders the youngest before glaring at Daehyun, “you’re twenty, you should do your things without me telling you.”
You laugh when they resume bickering while putting their coats on. You catch her rolling her eyes before bringing her attention to you.
“You know, Donghyuck didn’t bring many people at home before. Most of the time, I had to guess he had some flings or something, but even the ones he felt were worth meeting us, weren’t like you. And I’ve seen him in love, I’ve seen him do crazy stuff, but I’ve never seen him like this,” she smiles fondly. “A mother notices a lot of things, and I’ve noticed his touches on your hand, how he plays with your hair or caresses your back, I’ve seen him rage when one of us overstepped. But most importantly, I see the love. I already had the feeling through the phone calls, but seeing his eyes light up, watching him get lost in you with every breath… wow, I fear you put a spell on him,” she chuckles. Her gentle eyes move between you and her son as a soft smile curls her lips, creating some wrinkles on her cheeks.
“He loves me like nobody ever loved me before, and…” you pause, turning your attention on him, watching him laugh with his dad, smiling in reflection before your eyes are on his mother another time. “I know it might sound exaggerated from the outside, but his love saved me more than I knew I needed to be saved.”
She smiles, caressing your arm. “Yeah, I noticed that too. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know if that made you bond more, but if you ever fear he’s not into this, I want you to know that he’s serious. When he told me he moved out of his apartment to live with his girlfriend, I was speechless. I thought he was never going to settle down, especially not so soon. But he did that, and even if he was afraid, he was happy about it.”
You want to tell her he was afraid for you, but you can’t or else she might think you don’t love him just as much, so you smile and nod. “This was a big step.” It’s not a lie, it was a big step for him too. His life was completely different before you two met and everything changed.
“Oh, but an amazing one. Look at how cute your place is, it feels like home. Even if it’s not big, even if it doesn’t have design pieces, even if it’s not in the center of town, you’ve got each other. And that’s something you can’t ever take for granted,” she says, and you see her smile sadden a bit as she looks over at her husband, who’s now busy talking with Haechan and Dasom. “But I don’t want to talk about what I had to go through with my husband, what matters is that we made it, and we raised four wonderful kids. And I don’t know if you want them or not, it doesn’t matter, there’s time to grow and change, but you’re young now, and have all your life to live, just the two of you. I just want you to remember to always have each other’s back. Even if you both decide you want to make another big step, you have to have each other to give love and water another flower.”
You wipe away a tear, lowering your head, and she coos, caressing your cheek. “No, darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s fine,” you reassure her. Her words made you sad for other reasons, stinging right at the missing piece left by the absence of your parent’s love. “I’m very lucky to have him. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Mom,” Haechan’s voice rings behind you, and you notice his worried look when he sees you wipe away some other tears.
“We were just talking, I’m about to cry too, it’s normal,” she explains, smiling at you and you smile back.
“Sure?” He asks you and you nod. “Yeah, also, I’m just a bit tired.”
“We’ll go now, seriously. We stayed way too long,” she says, calling the sibling at her side with a snap of the fingers.
“Tomorrow at lunch you’ll be here, right?” Haechan asks. His arm wraps around your waist, and he pulls you closer, thumb caressing your side in gentle motions.
“I do not plan on eating at that hotel, so you can bet I’m going to be seated here, eating the amazing food she cooks,” his dad replies, and you chuckle.
“Even if I burn it?” you joke.
“Yes, even if you poison it, honestly.”
“He ate something at the buffet when we arrived and wanted to change the hotel,” Haechan’s sister adds, rolling her eyes, and making you all laugh.
“That’s where you get the overdramatic-ness,” you whisper only for Haechan to hear, and he mocks you with a stupid face.
“Well, time to go, we annoyed them enough,” Dasom says, pushing the younger out of the door. “Merry Christmas, and thank you for everything!”
“Merry Christmas to you too!” You and Haechan greet again, watching as they all make their way out of the apartment. “See you tomorrow.”
“Cover up, it’s cold outside,” you say. “And drive safely, please.”
“We will, it’s not far from here,” his dad reassures you.
“Goodnight!”
When you make sure they enter the elevator, you close the door behind, and you sigh.
“Yeah, I now realize I should’ve made you meet them sooner for a shorter amount of time,” Haechan says right away with a hint of irony in his voice.
“You’re kidding, they’re amazing. I love them.”
“So you’re not overwhelmed?”
“Maybe a bit, but they’re so much fun. Your mother is lovely. And I love your sister, I need her number so we can become friends.”
“Nope, not happening. You two together will be the death of me,” he laughs, shaking his head.
You stick your tongue out before opening your arms to him, begging for a hug. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in, breathing deeply your sweet scent as he caresses your back. “You did so well today, I’m so proud of you.”
You don’t reply, just smile in the crook of his neck as your arms hold him tighter and feel all the pent-up stress leave your shoulders. You let his perfume lull you, and the warmth of his body calm you. You two stay there for a while, he leaves small kisses on the top of your head, and you chuckle when it tinkles, and just hug him tighter. And you think that, even if you’re always all over each other, hugging is not something you do a lot, and you need to change that. But you’re both starting to feel the tiredness of the day, and you’re the first to pull away.
“Come on, let’s go get changed, I want to slump in our ugly pajamas together.”
In less than twenty minutes, you both have showered and changed into your matching pajamas, the lights in the living room are off, and you’re ready to go to bed.
When you enter the bedroom, you see Haechan at the window, looking outside, and you quickly reach him, hugging him from behind and starting to leave kisses on his neck, making him giggle.
“What?” He hums when he looks behind and finds you staring at him with big doe eyes.
“You were so cute as a kid,” you whisper.
“Yeah, I noted that you would’ve had a crush on me if we met during kindergarten,” he chuckles, and you do the same.
“No, dummy,” you scoff. “I mean, yes, probably. You were a charmer with your pretty curls and that smile. Would’ve swept little me right off my feet.”
He turns around, hugging you. “Should we go back in time and see?”
“Nah, I like our romantic start with the fuck in the car, more appropriate for adult-us,” you joke, and he laughs. “But little you got me a baby fever.”
“Oh,” Haechan says, furrowing. “You run fast when you want to.”
You shake your head, snickering. “I’m not that serious, I don’t want it right now, but... it sparked in my mind just for a moment.”
“Yes, we would make pretty kids, that’s what you’re saying.”
“You ruin all the fun with all this mind-reading,” you pout, crossing your arms on your chest, and he laughs, kissing your pout.
“Sorry,” he says. “I can’t give you a kid right now, but we can practice, so we know what to do when we want one.”
You stare at him. “Tell me this was not supposed dirty talking because it’s the worst line that ever came out of your mouth.”
“Hey! I was trying to be sexy.”
“You’d be sexier if you just straight up told me you wanted to fuck. Because it’s also what I’ve been subtly trying to tell you.”
“Nah-ah, you said you wanted my kids,” he teases, kissing your lips.
You roll your eyes. “Not what I wanted to say.”
“I don’t reckon a breeding kink, though. Missed something from your bdsm test results?”
“Shut up, that’s weird. I was being sweet before, not horny. And breeding kink is only funny when it doesn’t turn into actual pregnancy.”
He stares at you with a confused face, and you scoff, waving him off with your hand.
“Can I give you the special Christmas gift?” You say, changing subject, batting your lashes seductively at him.
“Sure.”
“Sit on the bed,” you order and then watch as he does what you say before you take a few steps back so there’s some distance between you.
“You will not striptease with that ugly nightwear on?”
You roll your eyes and sigh heavily. “Why do you have to ruin all the fun? This is the best part of it all, the ugly nightwear. Now, will you let me do what I have to do, or do I have to go to somebody else? You know, we don’t have Mark next door anymore, but the neighborhood down the corridor is always so nice to me, and he used to flirt before you moved here, so I’m sure he would appreciate it.”
“Oh, shut up! He’s lowkey a creep, and he always stares at you as if he’s never seen a woman his entire life. He probably wouldn’t even make you come, but he’ll nut in his pants as soon as you’ll touch him.”
You chuckle at his accurate description. “So, you don’t want all this to go to waste, right?” you ask, pointing at your body from head to toe. “You better shut up and let me do what I have to do.”
“Go on,” he says, nodding, and then sits more comfortably on the bed.
Your dance as you strip is not exactly the sexiest thing on earth with the fluffy, baggy pants and no music playing in the background, but Haechan is having a lot of fun anyway watching your hips move, your hands run on your body, and your teasing faces.
But it quickly turns serious when you lift your top off your head, revealing a red lace bra.
“Fuck,” Haechan mutters, sucking his breath in and squeezing his thighs for a second. He has your body imprinted in the back of his mind by now, yet, every time, you leave him breathless.
You keep going, letting the pants fall on the floor and gracefully picking them up to lay them on the chair, hips swinging as your hands run on your exposed body. You turn around, giving him a perfect view of your ass, and he bites back a moan. You chuckle delightedly, feeling shivers form on your skin when you hear him shuffle with his pants, probably pulling them down to ease the boner.
You bend over, looking at him upside down, winking when he meets your gaze, before giggling when your eyes fall on his fist wrapped around his dick.
“Hard already?” You ask teasingly, standing up and facing him.
“What does it look like?”
You pout, tilting your head. “I guess we have to do something about it. It’s too easy to turn you on.”
“It’s not my fault you know all the right bottoms to push,” he replies.
You huff. “Please, I just danced a bit, like this,” you stop, swinging your hips again and touching your body, cupping your boobs in the see-through red bra before reaching your neck and moving down again. “And bent over.”
He sighs again, but you notice the gulp when he follows your body. “Dance for me?”
You smile. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”
“Not yet,” he breathes out. “Just dance for me, I’ll put some music on.”
You smile and start moving, this time with slow music filling the silence. The Christmas lights hanging in the bedroom make the room look like a club, and you quickly get into the vibe.
Seeing Haechan stroking his hand on his hard dick lazily while his eyes are stuck on you, is turning you on much quicker than expected. It goes on for a while, your body moving to the rhythm while his hand gradually picks up the pace, especially when you get in more provocative positions or get close to him, only to leave him with nothing.
“Touch yourself,” he orders after long minutes of silence. “Bring the armchair in front of me and touch yourself with me.”
A small gasp leaves your lips, but you’re quick to follow the instructions. You slowly sit, trying to maintain the sexy vibe.
“Don’t undress.” His voice stops you right when your hands are about to pull the panties down. “You look too good in that set to throw it on the floor already.”
You smirk, and then your hands move on your body. You throw your head back on the chair as you enjoy the sensation of your hands running on your skin, teasing your nipples, and slowly —too slowly, from Haechan’s annoyed groan— you start parting your legs. It’s clear it’s not enough when he says a stern call of your name.
“Something wrong? Do you need something?” You tease, tilting your head to the side while your hands never stop touching your body, everywhere but where he wants you to.
His eyebrow raises, and he scoffs. “You shouldn’t be naughty on Christmas, you know that?”
You snicker, rolling your head back for a second before locking your gaze again. “Pfft, I already had my gifts, I can be as naughty as I want to.”
“But do you? Do you want to?” He teases you, leaning a bit over. “I can see the dark spot from here, are you sure you want to punish yourself any longer?”
You gulp at the intensity of his eyes. One second, you two are in a teasing-switchy-mode, and then one second later, he has this hold on you with just one look, pinning you down, leaving you no choice but to obey.
“Good girl,” Haechan praises as soon as your legs spread open, one dangling down the seat, the other dangling on the armrest, and your fingers start moving your clit.
A gasp of relief comes out of your lips, and your eyes flutter shut.
“Nah-ah, look at me. I want you to keep your eyes on me.”
You lock eyes with him, feeling warmer. You love the way he looks at you, you’re sure you’ll never get tired of it. His eyes are full of lust and love, making you feel desperately wanted and loved. You feel so comfortable in that, knowing you can let him do whatever you both want and never feel used. It is a recurring thought every time you’re exposed to him because it’s something that you didn’t experience in the past.
“Can — can you tell me what to do?” You shily ask.
His lips curl in a smirk. “You want me to give you instructions? Not in the mood to have control tonight?”
You shake your head. You don’t feel like it, even if you love teasing and being bratty, tonight you want to leave the reins in his hands and let him guide you.
“Good.” Haechan clears his throat and sits better on the bed, his hand still slowly touching himself while the other lays flat on the mattress to keep his body up. “Tease your nipples with your other hand, I know you love to play with your boobs.”
Your hand moves up swiftly, not wasting a second, and a shaky breath comes out of your lips as your fingers rub the hard, sensitive bud. They’re already hard from the chilly temperature of the room, the heat warming it up just enough to be warm if dressed up, but soon get even harder from the stimulation.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks with a teasing edge in his voice, and you nod. “Move the panties to the side, let me see how wet you are.”
As soon as you move the crotch to the side, his eyes intensely stare between your legs as he licks his lips, watching your cum drip down, and you have to bite back a moan.
He snickers and you raise a brow. “And to think all you did was dance for me.”
Your throat goes dry at the mockery but you find the words anyway. “But you — you are touching yourself.”
Haechan chuckles again, throwing his head back to push back his hair before lifting it. “Yes? It turns you on so much to see my hand wrapped around my dick? Want to have your hand wrapped around it?”
You nod as you bring your thumb to your lips, biting a hangnail. And he laughs. “You’re serious about me guiding you, torturing your pretty nails to contain yourself and don’t let a finger slip inside of you.”
At the call out, you move away your thumb but he only laughs louder. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Slip a finger in and tell me what’s running in your mind.”
Your finger slips in with ease, bringing relief, but words struggle to come out of your mouth as you feel smaller and smaller under his gaze. “I want to — I want to suck it.”
Haechan smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Really? Want to be on your knees, between my legs?”
You nod with much more enthusiasm needed, but you don’t care. It’s too tempting now that he has his legs vulgarly spread, his thick thighs begging to be touched as you take his dick in your mouth, and his eyes slightly glossy with pleasure. It’s not a common sight, but you love it. Looking up and seeing his face wrecked, his eyes teary, but what you love the most are his moans and whimpers, so high and needy, as he unconsciously starts fucking your mouth to reach his high.
“Maybe I’ll let you do it after, but first take care of yourself…”
You huff but don’t complain further and start to move your finger faster.
“Good girl. Push another finger in, come on, fuck yourself faster,” he encourages, clearly understanding you’re growing impatient and want more. “You’re so filthy,” he snickers. “So fucking wet, listen to the pretty sounds you make.”
A muffled moan is your reply to his comment, but your body speaks more than words. Your head rolls back and your eyes close before you remember he told you he wants you to keep eye contact, and your pussy gets even wetter with each pump of your fingers.
“Please, another one,” you beg. Typically two fingers are perfect, but with each sound of his hand sliding up and down on his dick, and the sight of his length throbbing as droplets of cum roll down his cock and hand, you can’t help but want to fool your body that he’s inside of you.
He smirks, but it’s not as teasing as before, he’s starting to falter too. “Go on, add another one. Stuff yourself full, pretend all you want that’s my dick inside of you.” It’s not much the dirty talk, but the way he knows you so well that makes you shiver and close your legs for a split second. There’s nowhere to hide with him.
You bite your lips to push down your throat a pathetic, high moan when he stops his movements to take his top off, leaving it on the other side of the bed. He’s completely naked now, one hand running in his long brown locks before it goes back to his side to keep his body up, and the other wraps around his cock.
“You’re so hot,” you whine, huffing. And he chuckles, cheeks blushing a bit. You rarely compliment him during sex, too fucked out to vocally tell him what he does to you, and it’s always your body speaking to him. So when it happens, he’s not used to it.
“Am I? Or are you only turned on by this?” He jokes, head pointing between his legs.
You shake your head. “It’s you, fuck. Your hair, your lips, the moles on your skin.”
He chuckles, stopping your praises. “My moles?”
“Yeah, your moles, I love them,” you confess. He should’ve got this a while ago, considering you always let your fingers brush them and connect them with invisible strings. “I love your stomach, your waist, your thighs. And your hands, fuck, they’re so beautiful.”
This time it’s a genuine smile that spreads on his face before he lowers it to hide the effect your words had on him, and you smile too.
“Want to come?” He asks, still overwhelmed by the praises, and you giggle. He’s always so confident, you can’t believe he’s acting shy now.
“Yes, please. Together?”
“Together.”
You pull the third finger out, prioritizing swiftness and deepness over thickness — you’ll have time for that. And start to quickly move your two fingers in and out while your thumb rubs your clit. Your other hand plays with your boobs with more eagerness, pinching the nipples and cupping the soft flesh as you please. And soon enough you’re both coming. Haechan’s fast strokes and loud moans are the last thing you need to come, unexpectedly squirting and hitting him too.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans, biting his lips, hips squirming as more cums keeps coming out of him, messily hitting his stomach, chest, and legs.
Your head rolls back as the pleasure starts slowing down, your fingers are still lazily riding out the orgasm, and your eyes fall shut as your lungs take deep breaths.
“Fuck, come here, this is torture,” Haechan groans, getting up to pull you on the bed on top of him, not waiting to be steady on his knees.
You chuckle at his eagerness, honestly, you’re surprised he lasted that long without touching you.
“Next time we’re doing this,” he hums, kissing you, “you’ll sit between my legs. I need to feel you close.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” you giggle, pushing him flat down the mattress, and straddling his lap. Your hips grind on him, smearing the cum that splashed on his stomach on you, but you don’t care. You’re focused on kissing him, letting your fingers run in his long hair while enjoying the sensation of his running on your skin.
“Mhh, are you going to be offended if I ride you instead of sucking your dick?” You ask, smiling awkwardly.
He bursts into a loud laugh and then shakes his head. “Do you think I’d say no to that?”
“I don’t know, I was kinda drooling over that, maybe the idea turned you on.”
Haechan shrugs, pulling you into another kiss as his hands cup your ass. “It did turn me on, but I can’t stand another second not pressed against you. Why don’t we flip position, mhh? You wanted to be pampered tonight.”
You smile, nodding. “Yeah, I’d prefer it. I don’t think I would last long on top.”
He rolls you on your back, his lips never leaving yours and you chuckle in the kiss, trying to get rid of your panties, but he stops you again. “Keep them on, please.” You do as told, choking on a silent moan when his fingers brush your clit as he helps you keep them to the side.
“You love this set, don’t you?”
He nods, giving two tugs on his dick as he starts pressing it against your soaked slit. “Looks good on you.”
A breathy, shaky moan slips from both of you as he sinks in, slowly as he always does, enjoying the feeling of every inch filling you up until he bottoms down.
“You alright?” Haechan asks, and you nod with a small smile on your face.
“Please fuck me?” You ask, trying to don’t show how eager you are.
He chuckles but doesn’t tease you, instead, he places a hand on your hip and the other at the side of your head on the bed as his hips start moving. Each thrust is deep and long, knocking the air out of your lungs. And you get lost in the smooth movements of his body, rolling so easily to please you —God bless all those years of dancing. Your head rolls back when he snuggles in the crook of your neck to leave kisses on your skin, and your arms fly to wrap around him and bring him closer.
You barely notice how one of his hands sneaks under your arched back to free you from the bra, and only sigh at the feeling of freedom that quickly gets overwhelmed with pleasure when his lips wrap around your hard nipples.
“Fuck, Hyuck,” you whimper with your fingers clenched hard around his hair. You’re tempted to look at him, staring at his concentrated face as he sucks on your nipple, sending more shivers down your spine, but you’re too lost in pleasure and can’t bring yourself to look up.
You bite your lips when he moves to the other side and the chill air of the room lingers over the warmth left by his mouth. The constant stimulation of your sensitive buds sends new shivers down your spine and makes the knot in your stomach tighten.
“Fuck, babe, your boobs are so soft,” Haechan moans against your skin. His other hand creeps up and wraps around the neglected one, squeezing tight.
A breathy moan rolls from your hips as your hand tangles in his hair and your hips jerk up against him.
“What? Why are you pulling away?” You ask in a whine when Haechan moves away from you and pulls out.
“I don’t think you want me to rip them, right?” Haechan snickers as his fingers pull your panties down.
“Oh, I thought — never mind,” you mumble, feeling heat creep on your face.
He smiles, his gaze is gentle as ever as he lifts your face. “You thought I was leaving you?”
You nod shyly, biting your lips.
“I would never. See? I’m right here,” he reassures you. His lips meet yours, one hand cups your face and the other helps him slide into you again.
You moan in the kiss while your hands reach his hair to pull him against you. “Want you,” you slur, watery eyes looking into his.
“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “I just needed to get them out of the way.”
Your lips meet again, and never truly part again. His rhythm picks up again, but this time he pushes your legs against your chest, reaching deeper, making you feel every inch more.
“Hyuck,” you whine, throwing your head back as you gasp for more air.
“Feels good? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?”
You nod frenetically. “Feels — feels good.”
Haechan smirks, thumb brushing on your burning cheek before running over your quivering lips. “You’re so beautiful when you’re vulnerable like this,” he whispers, and you’re not sure you were supposed to hear it because it feels as if he’s talking about something else. It’s about you showing yourself fully to him, with no armor, and no mask, and not only during sex.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Taking me so well, so warm and wet,” he mutters under his breath, messily kissing you again, and reaching for your hand to intertwine it with his. With each drag of his dick inside of you, you feel closer to the edge, and automatically your legs wrap around his waist, pushing him deeper.
“Fuck,” he groans, not expecting you to do that, and you feel his hips falter for a second, but he swiftly picks up the steady rhythm.
“I’m close,” you whisper, and he hums.
“Wait for me, can you, princess? I’m close too, just — fuck — just a bit more.”
You nod and then feel the urge to do something. You’ve got more comfortable with time, but eye contact can still be pretty hard and vulnerable for you, yet you don’t think much when you cup his face and force him to look straight into your eyes. This time your stomach flutters from love, and you melt in his golden brown eyes looking into yours with nothing but love. And you can’t hold it anymore. “I love you,” you whisper, the sincerity and vulnerability in your voice watered down by lust but clearly there.
Haechan doesn’t expect it; you see it in his eyes widening and you feel it in his hips slowing down for a few seconds. This is the first time it comes out of your lips while you’re having sex, he’s always the one getting a bit more caught up, confessing his love even in these intimate moments, while you save it for other times. He gulps, not knowing what do to, but then a shy smile creeps on his face as he lowers it again; just the time to regain his usual confidence before staring back at you. “I love you, too.”
You smile, feeling warmth spread across your chest, and pull him in a kiss.
And after that, you two are just skin and bones burning in synch in the passion of your love. One of your hands is in his hair, tugging a bit, while the other is wrapped around his shoulder, your nails scraping his delicate skin, and your legs are still wrapped around his waist. While Haechan’s hand is resting on your hip, and the other is holding his body up now that he’s lying closer to you and has more risk of losing balance.
The orgasm washes over you at the same time as he keeps fucking into you and you kiss each other, moaning in the messy meeting of your lips. His fingers dig in your skin and your nails dig in his scalp, but none of you feel pain, just more pleasure as you both ride out your orgasm.
Haechan doesn’t pull out right away. His head falls in the crook of your neck where he leaves more kisses, praising you in whispers, and you lay there with a dumb smile on your face.
“Can I stay here inside of you forever?” He jokes, looking at you with a playful smirk on his face.
You chuckle, shrugging. “I would lie if I said I’d be bothered, but unfortunately it would be impractical.”
“Fine, then just a bit more.”
You both enjoy the intimacy of this closeness, occasionally kissing and caressing each other and when he pulls out of you, you groan, feeling suddenly cold.
“I’ll be back, just let me get something to clean you up,” he says, leaving a peck on your lips before leaving.
Haechan comes back with a wet towel in hand, sits next to you, and gently wipes you clean. Your legs close at the stimulation but his hand on your thighs helps you don’t focus on the fabric passing over your sensitive core. It’s quickly done, and he can come back next to you after a few minutes.
You rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and smile when his hand wraps around you and starts caressing your back after pulling the covers on top of you.
“Thank you,” Haechan whispers, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“For?”
“For trying,” he replies, looking down at you to meet your eyes. “This time of the year is always so hard for you, and even last year you hated it, even if we were already together. I know you used to love it, but I thought it was going to take more time to live it with a light heart, well, as light as it can be,” he chuckles, but it’s an awkward laugh. There’s some pain in his voice, and you know that if it was possible he would take your pain and put it on his shoulders, but he can’t.
You flip on your stomach, to look at him better, but that doesn’t stop his fingers from dancing on your back.
“You underestimate me,” you joke. You’re not sure you want to talk about this now. The holidays are long, you’ve planned the entire week with his family, except for two days, you might still have some lows. But Haechan seems to always appreciate every small step you take, and you feel good in that pride.
“No, I know how hard some things are for you. And even if I want you to get better, I would never force you into anything. And it’s… it just means so much to me that you did all of this for me. I mean, for you too, but you started planning months before, you proposed to invite my family over for me. And trust me, I know that our house is still a sacred safe place for you, and you still don’t easily let people in, but you let them. And letting them in is probably scarier than when you let me in back then. But you did it, because you know how much I love my family and how much I love this month and this celebration, and what you did means everything to me.”
You chuckle, pushing back some tears because you don’t want to cry. “You gave me the strength to do it. I couldn’t stay anchored to the past any longer, it was now or never. If I started hating the holidays even with you by my side, it would’ve been the end of it all. I… once I start relating negative experiences with something I never stop doing that. As much I loved the way the Suhs invited me over in the past years, I knew I couldn’t take another pity-Christmas-dinner. We should have one with them too one day, maybe, but no more pity, I can’t take it anymore.”
Haechan smiles, caressing your face. “You were different when we ate at Johnny’s last time, I think his parents saw that too. And they weren’t walking on eggshells anymore. Let’s be honest, with you it’s not eggshells, it’s bombs, so I can’t blame them.”
A soft laugh rolls off your tongue as your head falls against his chest, but the lighthearted moment comes to an end when a veil of sadness falls on your face.
“Something wrong?”
You shake your head. “No, I just realized some things.”
“About you?”
“About you,” you say. “I feel I will never be able to make you understand how much you changed my life for the better. And I know that in your eyes I sound so dramatic at times, but…” you sigh, eyes falling on the white sheets before meeting his curious gaze again. “But you mean so much to me, and you taught me everything I had forgotten with time. I used to go on with my days, but I didn’t fully live them. I was constantly afraid: of failing, of hurting someone, even killing someone, so I didn’t love, I didn’t feel. All my emotions in the past years were felt by a 30%, just to fool myself that if I didn’t give, if I didn’t put myself out there, I was safe, and… looking back at it now, it sucked.” You stop again, trying to give an order to your thoughts, and Haechan gets it. He doesn’t talk, he waits and listens. Haechan listens. To your words. To your cries. But most importantly to your silence. Because with you, at times, it says much more than words.
“Somehow, I had died with him that day. Not physically, but I was quick to kill myself to punish myself for what happened. And then you brought me back to life. I was so scared with you because now I… I can die again. Now I have something to lose, I have so much to lose, and it should be scary, but I weirdly feel at peace. I know it doesn’t look like it, but I notice it because I scheme for the little things now, and just let life wash over me. I don’t want control of the bigger picture, I can direct the behind-the-scenes, I guess,” you joke, and he laughs too. His face is relaxed, and it feels good to be an open book, to have no fear of opening up and fearing that the other will leave. “Your mom told me something that made me think of this. As long as we’ll have each other’s back, it won’t be as scary. And this would be scary too if I felt that one of us wasn’t 100% sure of this relationship but, I don’t know, I have the impression that we might want to be in this for a long time.”
Haechan chuckles, and then nods, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I like ‘for a long time’. It’s stable but not forever. Let’s be honest, would I want to date you even in the afterlife? Nah, come on, give me a break at least there.”
You laugh and then wrap an arm around his torso. “Just two dates with other ghosts, and then you’re coming back to me.”
“Yeah, fine,” he huffs, but his voice is filled with irony, and then his lips are on yours again.
“Be honest, was the lasagna that good, or did they fake it?” You ask with a furrow on your forehead, still tangled in the hug.
Haechan laughs. “Oh my god, I gave you a mind-blowing orgasm and you’re still thinking about that? But yeah, it was good, if it was bad, you would’ve seen it in their faces. They loved it, and they love you.”
The conversation doesn’t die there, but shifts from funny moments you had yesterday and the plans you have for the days to come. Then you realize you haven’t texted Johnny and his family a Merry Christmas yet; you could’ve done it in the morning, but you were used to waiting at midnight together and even if it’s almost 3 am, you still want to do it to somehow keep your tradition alive.
You grab your phone, and write him a text, finishing it with the promise you’ll also be calling him tomorrow. You have so many things to tell him, you know it’s going to be a long call in the morning as you prepare everything for lunch. And right before you’re about to lock the screen again, Haechan stops you.
“Wait, wait, wait, what? Who’s that?” He says, pointing at the name of a contact and you laugh. “Why are you laughing? What’s funny? My pathetic loser?”
“With a heart at the end,” you add, showing him the phone. “It’s you by the way.”
Haechan gasps offended, but you see it’s all an act and he’s just curious to know why you have him saved like that. “Really? I’m a loser? A pathetic loser?”
“No, you’re my pathetic loser,” you correct him.
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, wow, that makes me feel better,” he jokes.
“Well, it’s how I saved you when I got your number three years ago.”
His eyes widen even more, and you’re not sure he’s completely faking it. “And couldn’t change it to something more romantic over the years?”
“This is the romantic version. At first, you weren’t mine, just the cheesy, annoying, simpy, guy Johnny tried to make me hook up with, but now, you are the cheesy, annoying, simpy, love of my life.”
He groans, ripping the pillow from under his head to hide his face and scream in it and you laugh at his reaction. “And then I’m the cheesy, romantic one!” He points out and you only shrug.
“I can change it if you don’t like it,” you say, snuggling closer to him, pulling the pillow away to kiss his jawline and caress his hair back, soft and long, framing his face perfectly.
“Are you kidding? I love it,” he says, pulling you on top of him, and kissing you.
“Good, I’m glad you like it, my pathetic loser.”
It’s late, but you can’t stop talking, tangled up in the sheets, after slipping back into your comfy pajamas, peeing, and leaving the shower for the morning. You tell him the stories you didn’t say today, and he tells you some others his family doesn’t know, and just when the clock hits 4, sleep starts to take over. The soft caresses on your back and his warm body close to yours lull you into a comfortable sleep.
It’s Christmas, you’re in Haechan’s arms, wearing matching pajamas, and your hearts are beating as one. Today will be another long day, but you’re confident it will be amazing, and what’s left of your fears won’t eat you up. They don’t matter, the past doesn’t matter, there’s only one thing that matters now.
There are only three rules left: be alive, love, and be loved.
general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo ; @yellowgirllsblog
hits different taglist: @adorejaehyn ; @matchahyuck ; @jjhmk ; @ourbeautifulaffair ; @what-the-jams : @oleoleniall ; @kundann ; @bbagu ; @ismileeprnc-responder ; @produmads ; @zkdlllin ; @yesohhsehun ; @aliceinwhateverland ; @strangevante
taglist with some people that interacted under HD (i hope this doesn’t bother you, just thought you might’ve liked being tagged since you showed love to the first one): @rjtulips ; @lmnhead ; @girlwholoveslpreppyattire ; @lovingvoidgoatee ; @brownsugarbaybee ; @canknot ; @adollsblog ; @ch1llkill ; @bacons-thighs ; @emptynote ; @addyanm ; @marklovexs ; @softieehcficrecs ; @brightestmark ; @jyanigoth ; @haechskies ; @rum-gone-why ; @melloworm ; @cheolctrl ; @taegr0wls ; @onlyseokmins ; @xtrataerrestrial ; @222brainrot ; @johnny-sassville ; @ujisworld ; @cup1dton ; @21497s ; @slushhie ; @sakamoto-hey ; @uyukyeom
taglist with people that interacted with the post: @harrypinks ; cont in comments
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#nct fanfiction#haechan smut#lee haechan smut#haechan fluff#lee haechan fluff#haechan hard hours#haechan scenarios#nct 127 smut#nct dream 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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Can you do a jealous Fermin one pls, it starts a little angsty but ends in fluff 🙏🏻 I’ll leave it to your imagination
Fermin Lopez: you & me
pairing: fermin lopez x reader
warnings: none
❝I don't care about your first love. This should be your last one. Nothing like your last one. You look better on me, that's fashion.❞
I am not the jealous type. Atleast.. I like to think i’m not, others might disagree.
However my boyfriend, Fermin, sure does know how to make me jealous. I know he doesn’t do it on purpose, but it does sometimes (always) get to me when I see him and his ex girlfriend Valerie (who was also his first girlfriend). They broke up about 1,5 year ago and still remained friends.
I honestly just don’t get it, whats her deal? Me and Fermin are perfect for eachother and look great together. No need for her to butt in.
Right now we’re at Lewandowski’s house for a lunch for all Barca players and their girlfriends. Somehow Valerie is here since Pedri is single and he’s good friends with her so he invited her.
Im sitting next to Fermin and right next to him is, ofcourse, Valerie.
I AM a girls girl but I really do fucking hate her, sorry. I feel like she knows whats shes doing and how to get on my nerves. Should I name an example? Right now she is ‘talking’ with Fermin. Any person who doesn’t know them would definitely assume they’re a couple. But they’re not. I am sitting here, talking to no one, while being on my phone just scrolling on Instagram, I don’t know what to do.
I suddenly hear an annoying voice giggle so I immediately look at Valerie. I see her and Fermin laughing together at God knows what and she leans towards his shoulder and rests her head there. What the fuck. Now i’ve seriously had enough of her bullshit. How does Fermin not notice she’s still into him?
I sit here for a minute thinking of all the things I wanna do to her AND him. I decide to not do anything right now and instead I get up and go to Robert Lewandowski, I say goodbye to him and a few of my friends here and grab my jacket. Fermin has the car keys but I do not feel like talking to him so I just walk home. It is a 30 minute walk and as im walking I start to think about everything. I suddenly start crying and text my friend
~
PRIVATE CHAT: lola <3 & y/n 🎀
y/n 🎀:
lola?
lola
lola
please answer
lola <3:
hi
hi
hi
whats wrong bb
y/n 🎀:
im literally so fucking done
are you home?
walking in your street
lola <3:
walking ??
y/n come over now
~
My tears have stopped and I knocked on Lola’s door. She opens it very quickly and lets me in. ‘Y/n what happened?’ she says and I can’t help but cry again. It might seem dumb to other people but I just really don’t like it when others try to take what belongs to me. ‘Lunch at Lewandowski’s, fucking Valerie getting on my nerves again, Fermin doing nothing.’ I say. We walk into her living room and sit on her couch. She hugs me as she says ‘Boys are really stupid, you know? Especially Fermin. He has such a pretty, smart, amazing girlfriend.’ I don’t know what to say so I just nod and hug her. ‘Do you want to spend the night?’ she asks and I nod again.
We just sit there watching tv and i’ve calmed down a bit. Right now it’s almost dinner time so we decide to cook pasta together. During dinner I suddenly remember I haven’t updated Fermin at all..
‘Do you think I need to text Fermin? I didn’t tell him where exactly I was going.’ I asked, I know I probably should but I don’t know if im ready for an argument. ‘If you’re ready for that you should.’ Lola says. I take a minute to think about it and say ‘I’ll do it tonight.’
It’s currently 8pm and me and Lola are on the couch watching a movie. We’re both so tired that after an hour we accidentally fall asleep. Stupid. I know.
I wake up the next morning and see that it’s 6am. I wake up Lola and say ‘Did I text Fermin? Or did I forget?’ okay now i’m really stressed. ‘Ehm.. I dont know, I think you didn’t’. ‘Fuck!’ I grab my phone and the first thing I see are all his notifications..
~
PRIVATE CHAT: fermin 🩷 & y/n ❤️
fermin 🩷:
where did you go to?
is it because of Val?
fermin 🩷:
just got home, where are you?
fermin 🩷:
im worried
fermin 🩷:
okay youre not funny anymore
where are you
fermin 🩷:
come home now y/n
fermin 🩷:
its midnight. please come home
fermin 🩷:
alright i’ll take it as a sign youre not coming home
~
Oh my god. I’m so stupid??? I show Lola the texts and she tells me to hurry and go home so I do.
She gives me a ride to my house and right now im standing in front of our door. I hesitate for a second but then I knock and I see Fermin standing there. Before I can even figure out what to do or say he pulls me into a hug and says ‘I’m so grateful you’re okay dont do that again please.’ I don’t know how to react. What I did WAS a bit wrong, but he’s not innocent either. Should I mention that i’m still mad? Or should I just let it slide? But if I let it slide Valerie will only get more and more touchy and comfortable with him..
‘Fermin?’ I say as I pull out of the hug. ‘I left yesterday because i’m so fucking tired of you and Valerie. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed but that girl is still into you. She knows exactly how she can get on my nerves and she never fails to do so. I don’t want to be that girl to make you pick sides but I would really appreciate it if you, my boyfriend, would see how she’s acting and tell her to stop.’
I can tell he doesn’t really know what to say. Before I can say something he says ‘Y/n Valerie is a friend of mine, nothing more. If she really does bother you i’ll break all contact with her right now because I don’t want you to go away anymore.’ I see him grabbing his phone and I can see he’s removing her number and unfollowing her on everything. I mumble a little ‘Thank you’ and he says ‘If you feel like that again please just tell me and if i deny it keep telling me, alright?’ I nod yes and hug him again.
It’s now a few hours later, 11 pm, and Fermin needs to go to Ciutat Esportiva Joan Camper for football training. ‘Y/n do you want to come along? Your support brings luck.’ he says and I smile and nod yes.
When we arrive there I see my friend Mikky and sit next to her. All of a sudden she says ‘How are things between you, Fermin.. and Valerie?’ I laugh and say ‘Me and Fermin are good now, Valerie is still the same bitch she was before.’ We both laugh while we sit there watching our boyfriends train.
After training, which took them like 3 hours we go home. He says he’s all sore and hurt but im pretty sure he’s just saying that so we can cuddle which I dont mind. I’m sitting on the couch as he lays on top of me.
‘Was fun watching you train today.’ I say as I start playing with his hair, ‘You were talking with Mikky the entire time though.’ he says. I kiss his head as I say ‘Needed to catch up.’ I can hear him hum and notice he’s been getting a bit more tired. I turn on the tv to watch my favorite show and notice Fermin has fallen asleep. I smile and kiss him one more time before fully concentrating on the show.
A/n: I’m soooo sorry this took longer than expected. I’ll try my best to work on more requests today!!
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Man I'm just some scrawny skater and always have been. I always make fun of meatheads at the gym for being obsessed with size and power, but recently I watched the Hulk movie and I think I get it... The idea of becoming unstoppable and reigning supreme.
My friends have been worried about me since I've stopped hanging out with me and started hitting the gym but I wish I could just Hulk out without the whole 'Hulk speak' part. Something about letting my inner beast take over like the other dudes in the gym is tempting. Could you help me out?
The thing everyone forgets about the hulk is that, after decades of being in the comics, Bruce Banner is far more complicated than the movies would suggest. Sure, it started out like all the movies do, with Banner being transformed into the Hulk by some terrible accident, switching between forms whenever angered, but over the years and the dozens upon dozens of different storylines the Hulk has become so much more complicated. Over the years Bruce Banner has gained more than just one alternate personality. There’s himself, of course, ther nerdy genius. Then there’s the classic hulk, dumb angry and strong. But there have been many others over the years. Joe Fixit, the gray hulk with the mind and personality of a Vegas mobster, Doc Green/professor Hulk, a version of the hulk with both the brains and the brawn, and Green Scar, a cunning warrior who ruled an entire planet (for a short time). These are only a few of his many different forms and personalities. So, if you wanna be like the Hulk… it’s going to be more than just the nerd and the hunk.
Let’s start with the basics. That is to say, let’s start with you. The Skater. Your original personality, the one who makes fun of meathead jocks and doesn’t give a fuck about being strong. Or at least didn’t until recently. But after watching that movie… something’s changed inside of you. It awakened parts of yourself you didn’t even know were there. And I’m not speaking metaphorically. It seems that certain triggers now cause you to change into other forms, other people. At first they presented themselves as the sudden urge to workout and desire to be a jock, but now they don’t need to be just urges. They’ve developed into full on identities. When you’re not in a different form you’ll revert to your original self, the skinny skater you used to be… but that won’t be very often. Your other selves are way too greedy to give the pathetic little skater his fair share.
Next is your hulk. But for you it’d be more accurate to call him the Hunk. Beefy, muscular, dumb and sexy as hell. He’s everything you used to hate and everything you now long to be. An alpha male, a jock, a himbo, a stud. Your inner beast. He's the one who goes to the gym with your new bros, flirts with anything that moves, and flexes almost constantly. He isn’t brought forth by anger like the real hulk is though. You turn into the Hunk when horny. Makes sense. Just like how the Hulk is always angry, the Hunk is always horny. A complete and utter fuckboy stud, and until you get control over his wild libido, you’ll be turning into him almost constantly.
After that is your Joe Fixit. Let’s call him Joe. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it. Just like in the original comics Joe isn’t summoned by an emotion, but by the night. He’s drawn out by the thrill of the nightlife, by clubs and secret backrooms and grinding against each other in the dark while the beat pumps through you like a drug. He spends the first half of the night as a bouncer, using his beef, strength and sometimes even his charm to keep certain people out. The second half he spends flirting with chicks, dancing at the club, partying, drinking, and on a good night fucking his latest babe in the clubs VIP room. The best part is that he never has to deal with a hangover, and whichever you who wakes up in the morning is always well rested.
Your next form is the one who has it all. Your Doc Green, the one with the brains and the brawn. He actually is a med student who is trying to become a doctor, so let’s call him Doc. Charming, manly, and muscular, but also sensitive, kind and intelligent. His trigger is less clear, but you know he comes out when you need him. Whether its for a shift at work, to charm a girl or guy you actually like enough to date and not just fuck, he’s there. What he’s really good at though is making money. For a med student he’s shockingly loaded, probably because he set up a very successful onlyfans account for each of you. You, the regular you, watch his videos sometime. You always turn into the Hunk before the video ends.
Finally is the warrior. The green scar. You just call him Jock. Because that’s what he is. He comes out fairly rarely, only when you’re feeling very competitive, usually during sports events and bodybuilding contests. He’s tough, rough, and never backs down. He’s surprisingly intelligent, but uses most of this intelligence on strategy and tactics. He’s the perfect team leader, and is incredibly dominant on and off the field.
Between the Hunk, Joe, Doc, and Jock, there isn’t much time for you anymore. But this is what you wanted, want you fucking love being each of them. You finally released your inner beast. All four of them.
**hey there! Hope you guys liked the story. I know most people go a different direction when it comes to ‘hulking out’ but I thought maybe something a little different like this would be more interesting. I hope whoever requested the story enjoys it, and that you don’t mind me showing off my inner comic book geek**
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Propaganda why Aang is insufferable:
He has some very bad ideas that the narrative never explores and gets rewarded by the narrative for bad behavior.
Mostly just the way he deals with his crush on Katara and kind of forces it on her. It’s honestly really shitty because she never truly reciprocated his feelings and had plenty of moments where she shows she’s just trying not to hurt his feelings with a straight up rejection, but ends up with him in the end just because that’s what he wanted.
Like we know what it looks like when Katara actually has a crush on someone, she wouldn’t let the situation like the war affect how she feels about demonstrating those feelings when she’s so in touch with them. Like how she was with Jet and Haru. I just wish the writing team did a better job of showing Katara developing feelings for Aang way better than they did lol.
Made a series that was otherwise reasonably tolerable impossible to watch. I hate that all the jokes written for his character target 8-year-olds exclusively. Also his little TV show keeps appearing on my dash no matter how many words I block and I hate it
Propaganda why Gregory is insufferable:
This boy is so poorly written, it hurts. In the gameplay, he just acts annoyed and pissed off the whole time. Then, in the endings, he becomes a whole other character who acts scared and sad, which does not match the previous hours of gameplay AT ALL
But that just annoyed me
What really made me hate him was the GGY and Robot Gregory stuff, because OH NO, Gregory could not just be a normal kid who got into this situation by chance, he has to be a robotic recreation of the Crying Child, despite not acting one bit like CC, or, according to the GGY story in the books, he's responsible for multiple murders and is Afton's/the Mimic's apprentice.
Just let this kid be fucking normal!
(Also, unlike a lot of people, I really enjoy what the Ruin DLC did to his character. And don't try to say that's still the mimic, the mimic recycles dialog from the main game. This Gregory uses completely unique dialog, and unless the mimic was able to form new words in his voice all of a sudden, that's still him. He had to make a tough decision, one life or over hundreds and I can respect that)
Suffers from being made into another one of Matpat's ""is actually a robot theory"". It is annoying as hell, especially if its canon. We do not need robot children theories in a game about possession, child murder and serial killers. Especially not dumb theories about him being a 'recreation' of someone with a completely different personality. It has completely ruined any enjoyment I had in that character because we're just going back to the Afton family again
Someone made a good point about how his personality seems to be reminiscent of a certain trend where a video game protagonist has to be snarky even though it would’ve worked better for the horror atmosphere if he was more scared because it would’ve made the player feel his fear. I recall people being surprised about his personality and expecting him to be more scared, and I assume the developers were just afraid of ppl calling Gregory “whiny”, but it still feels like a missed opportunity
#aang#avatar the last airbender#atla#fnaf gregory#fnaf security breach#five nights at freddy's#insufferable protagonist poll#insufferable protagonist tournament#tournament poll
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Here's what I think the Pizza Tower cast thinks of Maurice Spaghetti...
Peppino: The poor guy can't stand Maurice. He's one of the biggest reasons Peppino doesn't come home for Christmas anymore. After putting up with his abuse for years, Peppino is just... tired of Maurice. He's tired of arguing. He just says, "I know," to every horrible thing his brother says about him. And the worst part is, Maurice seems to invite himself into Peppino's life whenever he least expects or wants it. This is because Maurice is such an asshole he literally has no friends and relies on Peppino for company.
Gustavo: He also can't stand Maurice. He HATES him, actually. Gustavo really cares about Peppino, so the fact his own brother treats him like shit infuriates him. He has threatened to kill Maurice before (remember Gustavo's catchphrase?), so Maurice is (rightfully) afraid of Gustavo.
Brick: Our rat buddy can smell a bad egg a mile away. He does NOT like Maurice and will hiss at him whenever he appears. Maurice claims that Brick is "the second-biggest rat [he's] ever seen", so he's... a little unnerved by the sight of him.
Mr. Stick: He hasn't met Maurice yet, but I guarantee you if he DID, he'd try to scam him out of a lot of money and would likely succeed. Cue Maurice crashing with Peppino until he can get his house back. Peppino is miserable and not amused by any of this.
Pepperman: Met Maurice during filming of The Noise's "Swap Mode" movie. Pepperman thinks Maurice is really unpleasant to deal with due to his negative attitude and close-minded outlook. Even a pseudo-intellectual like Pepperman runs circles around Maurice intellectually, which the pepper is happy to do, much to Maurice's frustration.
The Vigilante: Met Maurice during filming of The Noise's "Swap Mode" movie. He does NOT like him. He actually feels bad for Peppino; it must truly suck to have such an immoral piece of cow dung for a family member. Apparently the guy conned his own granny out of thousands of dollars! The Vigilante keeps a very close eye on Maurice the whole time they're around each other. Maurice feels his sins crawling on his back the whole time.
The Noise: He's generally neutral towards Maurice. He thinks all the mean things Maurice says about Peppino are funny. It's when Maurice starts spouting racist rhetoric he's like, "DUDE" and rendered completely speechless because... well, he's never heard Peppino talk like that, so where'd his fucking brother get it from!? Anyway... The Noise only hangs around Maurice if he needs him for something, like annoying Peppino. Maurice has tried befriending The Noise, inviting him to hang out, but The Noise isn't interested in being friends with a racist prick. He does, however, want to remain on Maurice's good side in case he needs him, so he just makes up excuses about being too busy.
Noisette: Noisette is not the kind of person who hates people easily. She tries to see the good in everyone. However, she sees no good in Maurice. She hates him, openly, and without regret. She hates the mean things he says about Peppino. All the bigoted, ignorant blather he spews. How he once assaulted an innocent laundromat worker and called her a bitch just because she told him he couldn't pay to do laundry using nickels. Noisette growls like a rabid dog whenever Maurice is around. Maurice is (rightfully) terrified of Noisette...
Fake Peppino: Our favorite frog man met Maurice during filming The Noise's "Swap Mode" movie... he doesn't like him at all. Maurice is loud, mean, and generally unpleasant. When they were filming Swap Mode's Fake Peppino boss fight, Fake Peppino actually tried to kill Maurice. The Noise had to step in and scare Fake Peppino off. Fake Peppino had to pretend he was simply getting a little too into his role instead of trying to actively hunt down Maurice. Playing dumb. Playing pretend... and sneaking a hiss or growl in Maurice's direction when no one else is looking. Maurice is absolutely terrified.
Pizzahead: Met Maurice during the "Swap Mode" movie. Holy mozzarella sticks, this schmuck is Peppino's brother!? And he... bullies Peppino? WHAT THE FUCK, THAT'S HIS JOB!! Pizzahead acts polite and even friendly towards Maurice at first, but as soon as they're alone together, he very calmly threatens Maurice's life, telling him to leave Peppino alone or else, all with a big, unnerving smile on his face. Maurice practically pisses himself in fear as he's forced to agree... for now...
Pillar John: Met Maurice during filming of "Swap Mode". Decided he absolutely did not like him, judging him for every hateful word that came out of his mouth. Fortunately, Maurice is so terrified of Pillar John's sheer size and strength, he doesn't pull his usual bullshit with the big guy.
Gerome: Met Maurice during filming of "Swap Mode". Gerome doesn't like Maurice at all, but he's not too bothered by his presence. In fact, he completely manages to ignore him. Maurice is insulted, but he's not about to talk shit about Pillar John's brother...
#pizza tower#headcanons#peppino spaghetti#fake peppino#the noise#noisette#pizza tower gustavo#pizzahead#pizza tower gerome#pillar john#mr stick#pizza tower brick
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Awful Characters Round 4 (1/4)
Propaganda under the cut!
IANTHE TRIDENTARIUS
Her number one hobby is ruining every person's that she knows life. Her second hobby is being soooo slutty about it despite looking like a literal wet rat. Her third hobby is having an extremely unhealthy relationship with her twin. Her other hobbies include cannibalism, wearing a maid outfit, being extremely convinced she is the main character, the badboy sexy love interest and the villain. 'Why', you may ask.
Well, the answer is, for shits and giggles #justgirlythings
i, aswell as literally everybody else in the fandom have gone through the pipeline from hating her to desperately wanting to fuck her. expect for i still fucking hope she dies and doesn't come back for good. (that would literally solve all of everybody's problems) as god intended (EXPECT FOR. one of her hobbies literally is gaslighting god)
She is fucking horrible i will love her until i die and even after that
parks and recs jean ralphio voice she's the woooorst!! The moment she learns she has to kill someone to become a Lyctor (aka a more special necromancer), she doesn't hesitate to kill and cannibalize the guy who has been her cavalier since childhood… cavalier who she also totally bullied as kids, she was allowed to choose one guest for her and her twin sister's birthday party each year, and she would always pick whoever she thought her cavalier didn't want to see there! While other characters are shown to regret the process of becoming a Lyctor (which involves someone close to them dying)/were forced into it because of circumstances, Ianthe has absolutely no regrets, she believes she did what she had to do
The author once said of Ianthe: "I don't think she's been nice to anyone, if she has I'll go back and change it." She killed and ate the soul of someone she has known all her life so that she could become a necromantic saint and tormented him plenty before that. General negging, ganging up against him, always inviting people he didn't like to their birthday parties. She doesn't regret killing him. I think she is repulsed by the idea that his digested soul is affecting hers. She helped her crush lobotomise herself so she would be in Ianthe's debt, and later lied and said she didn't see the corpse of a woman her crush killed under her bed (why did she do that? I do not know). She has a bone arm because her original arm was cut off, she hated the replacement so her crush cut THAT off and grew her a new one out of just bones. She had it gilded and only after that did she decide to help her crush deal with the person who had been repeatedly trying to kill her. She wants so badly to be the main character but people keep interrupting her villain monologues.
she has her own content warning tag
She's such a bitch to everyone all the time, she causes nothing but problems, she tries to do a villain speech but fumbles it because her tummy hurt, she is the awfulgirl of all time
ANAKIN SKYWALKER
-war criminal
-murdered a bunch of toddlers like five seconds after turning to the dark side
-exploded his daughters home planet that one time
-murdered an entire village bc some of them killed his mom (and not just the men, but the women and the children, too)
-choked out his pregnant wife and sent her into early labor
-murdered a bunch of jedi
-had a really dumb braid at one point
-tried to kill obi-wan (his mentor, brother, friend, guardian, and basically the most important person in his life)
-failed to kill obi-wan and got his shit fucked up so badly that he became basically a walking iron lung, if iron lungs were an ill-timed sneeze away from killing you
-went back for MORE a decade after obi-wan beat his ass just to be a dick. like he dragged the poor fucker's face through fire just to be an asshole
-annoying
#awful characters tournament#tournament poll#awful characters round 4#the locked tomb#tlt#ianthe tridentarius#star wars#anakin skywalker#darth vader
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okok im back with incel!kenma
whats even worse is if you really can’t tell if you’re a guy or a girl, the type of person that gives gender envy. if you have longer hair he just assumes your like him and can’t be bothered to cut it.
OKAY THIS THOUGHT JUST HIT ME MID TYPING! YOU’RE THE BITCH NERD!/LOSER!KURO CANT STOP TALKING ABOUT. THERES TWO MAYBE THREE WAYS HE CAN FIND OUT ITS YOU.
also ik this isn’t one of your hcs for kuro but nerd/loser!kuro x mean!goth!gf but maybe you’re not mean to him but everyone else, people even look at him the wrong way and you have them absolutely terrified. and during your face chats with him you never have your makeup or you daily clothes on. normally just bare faced and in something of kuros. surpising how he didn’t pick up kuros old nekoma jersey
number one: maybe kuro posts a picture of you on his story possibly at your pc playing with incel!kenma. or it could be one of the spicy mirror pictures you made him post because why the hell is the dumb bitch from class feeling up on your man for. maybe you even rant to kenma about this dumb bitch who can’t keep her hands to herself, and why the fuck is she touching a taken man. (okay i think incel!kenma is misogynistic but not homophobic because why the fuck would anyone want to deal with some needy whore constantly.) but that rant solidifies the thought that you are infact a guy maybe not one who hates women on the same level as he does but a man nonetheless. but once kuro posted that picture he figured it out and was disgusted.
number 2: kuro is at your house studying, so to keep your boredom at bay you hop online with kenma, it’s about two hours in when he hears a knock shuffling in the back ground followed by the sound of someone falling onto your bed when he asked about it your response is casual “oh its just my boyfriend.” and he doesn’t pick at it anymore. but then the mic catches a familiar voice in the background. “pretty girl when are you gonna be done, i want to take a nap with you” you give a hum in response to his question. “alright bro gotta leave after this round, so we have to win don’t wanna lose the last match of the day.” obviously you land up losing because kenma can’t get his pretty little head around the fact that he couldn’t tell you were some fucking bitch, you never told him either so that makes you a fucking liar (even tho he didn’t ask). when the game disconnects he’s seething.
number three: this is the worst option really kuro begs him to come hang out with him at his girlfriend, he swears up and down that she’s not the type of woman he’d hate. promises that they have a lot of the same interests. maybe he sends a picture of you cosplaying as one of his favorite characters but that just lowers his opinion, in the photo he can’t even tell its you though. so he’s even more confused when he meets you guys at the arcade. he cautiously calls you by your in game name and you respond with a smile and respond with your irl name. he’s genuinely not sure how to react. not just bc you’re the person he’s been gaming with for almost a year, but with your thick ass platforms you’re just as talk as kuro if not taller. you literally look down at him, can he even talk shit about a bitch like you with out getting his as beat.
anyway this drug out for way longer than intended. but yeah incel!kenma making assumptions and being totally wrong. how funny would it be if he had a crush on kuros gf
bestie.....my beloved......all of the options just sound so amazing to me omg *kisses u*
the absolute torture incel!kenma has to go through upon finding out that 1) his favorite gaming buddy is a disgusting female, 2) she's dating his best friend and somehow he never knew, and 3) she's so fucking hot that kenma can't stop picturing her face every time he rubs one out.
and you just won't let him live you're so fucking mean to him that kenma can't even get a word in when you're roasting him. the only thing that reels you in is kuroo's soft, pleading voice asking you to be nice.
kenma's embarrassed that his friend has become such a simp but fuck if he didn't wish he was on the receiving end of your sweet words.
#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#kenma x reader#kenma kozume x reader#kozume kenma x reader#🥀#🥀kenma#incel!kenma
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The writers of the SaB show seem to be pulling the exact same shit that lb did in the books. because there’s no way they think ignoring everything the grisha have been forced to endure, pretending that the darkling is the beginning and end of their issues and ravka’s, making sure alina never understands what she’s actually fighting for, etc is going to do anything except make me root for the darkling even more.
The entire second season gives me flashbacks to that insane trilogy because somehow they managed to be even worse than the books. they have alina telling the darkling that he doesn’t understand sacrifice?? really??? a man who has spent centuries of his life fighting for the betterment of his people doesn’t understand sacrifice?? the person who literally made protecting grisha his life goal doesn’t understand sacrifice??? does alina realize that the only reason she wasn’t killed the moment she was discovered was because of him?? because of the work he has done??
They had time for baghra to tell stories about her crazy family and how she killed her sister, but there was no time for her to say “this is what life was like before my son decided he was going to make it better for our kind?” if anything, they just pissed me off more because how the fuck is it possible that they are pretending the biggest issue they have is the darkling?? not the monarchy that has exploited grisha and ravka, not the fjerdans who hunt and kill grisha, not shu han who experiments on them??
Sigh, I can’t even write out my thoughts coherently because I’m so irritated by pretty much everything that happened this season. I’m irritated that instead of telling a complex story, we got this dumbed down garbage that tells us nothing, accomplishes nothing beyond “guy in black is bad.” the narrative condemns him for using merzost because he was so desperate to save his people, he tried forbidden magic, but 20 seconds later the hero is using that same forbidden power to bring her boyfriend back to life??? With zero repercussions?? I want to scream!!
If the narrative is so sure they are right, if they are so sure the darkling is wrong about everything, then why are they so afraid to expose the hero to the suffering of her people?? Let her see what they have to deal with, let her truly understand then. She has been a grisha for less than a year, and somehow she knows what’s best for them?? She doesn’t even know them. The show writers literally spent this season making her chase Mal around. Look what happened when they were going after the seawhip, two people died because she didn’t want to kill it, but they moment it went after Mal, suddenly killing it was ok. Her side of the war got attacked and instead of checking to make sure everyone was ok, including her friend’s brother who was literally about to lose his arm, she was screaming about Mal. You want to tell me about sacrifice?? She only cared about one person, and he was perfectly fine at the end. What does she know about sacrifice?? Why oh why is this fucking story just so determined to make her make all the worst possible decisions??
Incase you haven’t noticed, I haven’t talked about the crows at all, because I hate their presence in this story. They are a distraction!!! The grisha are fighting for their right to exist, Ravka is in the middle of a civil war, I do not have the time to follow the shenanigans of a group of criminals from a different country. I still don’t understand their purpose in this story, except comic relief?? 🤦🏽♀️
I love Alina, I really do, but jfc you cannot girl boss your way out of real solutions. They have her basically serving the monarchy and the whole time I kept thinking, if I were grisha, I wouldn’t follow her. She’s the leader of the second army but she’s wearing a first army uniform, she’s more interested in protecting the Lanstov throne than she is in protecting her people. She’s so blinded by everyone saying “the darkling is bad, the fold needs to go” she’s not stopping to say “what happens when the fold is gone?” “What happens after the war?” Because surely, she isn’t naive enough to think the people who started killing grisha as soon as they thought the darkling was gone are going to live peacefully with them now?? It took 2 seconds after the darkling died for Fjerda to send an assassin on jurda parem into ravka. Now that there’s no fold to stop them, what will stop Fjerda or Shu Han from sending an army?? Ignoring everything else the crows did, Kaz was right when he said “when they stop looking at her with gratitude, they’ll start to wonder if she hasn’t overstayed her welcome.” Which is basically what Aleksander kept saying btw, they are not going to love you for long, they are going to hate you eventually because they are afraid of what they don’t understand.
I don’t even know what the point of this was, but yeah, I guess it was a rant about how Fucking ridiculous season 2 of shadow and bone was.
#darklina#alina starkov#shadow and bone#aleksander morozova#the darkling#sab s2 spoilers#sab s2#everyone involved in the writing of this story should have their head checked
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Sharing is Not Always Caring
➤Day 14
𖤐Pairing: Soap x Innocent! F! Reader
𖤐Pronouns: She/Her
𖤐Warnings: Smut, NSFW, implied threesome, a bit of insecurities, drinking, some hints of fluff, kissing/making out, P in V, pussy slapping, fingering, eating out, masturbation, dry humping (?), face sitting
𖤐Summary: Y/n wasn't ever big on a threesome with Soap, she thought that if she did a threesome with him, he would love the third party instead of her, but she caved in and did it to please him.
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Welp, you did it, you agreed to have a threesome with your boyfriend Soap, it’s been something Soap wanted to try and if they both hated it, he’ll never bring it up again, they were completely something on their ‘Sex Bucket list’ something stupid they both thought would be funny to do and on Soap’s list in the number 5 spot was.
“Try a Threesome”
Y/n thought it was dumb and didn’t think he was serious but…he was.
They went to a bar to look for someone else to join, it didn’t matter to them who, another guy, girl anyone, as long as they were also okay with it.
Y/n was definitely nervous…Soap was all for it and didn’t seem nervous whatsoever but Y/n looks like if they do this, will Soap still love her or go for the one they both just had sex with.
Her mind would go 100 miles a minute just thinking about it, palms clammy and sweat trickled down her forehead when she looked at Soap looking like he was trying to find the right person.
“Oh what about her? She seems close to our age and looks like she could keep up with our stamina,” Soap said pointing to a woman who looks like she is in her late 20’s 28-29 maybe. Dark hair and slight tanned skin like she came from the beach.
She laughed and looked like she was having fun with some people around her.
“Uhh~ no way, those are probably her friends and she probably won’t leave their side the whole night, plus she seems smart to not have sex with a couple looking for someone to fill in their third spot…” Y/n awkwardly laughed as Soap looked confused.
“Okay~” he turns to find someone else. “What about him?”
“No.”
“Love-“
“What! I’m helping.”
“You’re being picky and unreasonable. Fine…tell you this…the next person who walks through that door, is our third party, deal?” Soap said.
“F-Fine, deal,” she said, crossing her arms like a child being told ‘no’ for the first time.
So, they waited for that so-called next person. Soap probably stared at that door for 20 minutes as Y/n played with the straw in her drink and messing with her feet under the table.
Ding
The bell above the door rung and a young girl walked in, she looked to be 25-27 maybe, she had blonde hair, pale skin, and was wearing a tight blue dress that stopped at her mid-thigh.
“Bingo,” Soap said, quickly getting up. Y/n didn’t even have enough reaction time to follow him, she stayed over at the table as Soap went up and asked her.
“Fuck,” Y/n mumbled looking around like she wasn’t with Soap.
“Love, this is Lanai, Lanai this is my girlfriend Y/n.”
“Hi,” Lanai said with a smile.
“Hi,” Y/n said, awkwardly. They both shook each others hands and Lanai sat down with Soap and Y/n.
Talking, drinking and getting to know each other. Y/n just looked at Soap and Lanai getting along just fine...it scared Y/n. She watched as they laughed together and how Lanai was getting a bit more comfortable around Soap, Y/n felt like she was the third party.
"So, shall we go home then?" Soap asked the girls. Lanai nodded her head as Y/n just gulped and nodded as well.
Soap grabbed his keys and headed home with the girls. Y/n in the passenger seat and Lanai in the middle backseat. Y/n played with her fingers the whole time, Soap grabbed her hands making her stop and look up at him.
"So, how long have you guys been together?" Lanai asked.
"What four years?"
"Five actually," Y/n corrected Soap, who just chuckled at her like he meant to say four.
"Wow, five years and no rock on the finger, Y/n?"
"W-What?"
"I mean, if I was with my boyfriend for five years, I should expect a big rock on my finger."
"W-Well we wanted to take it slow," Y/n said.
"Right...but anyways, why are you two all of a sudden doing a threesome? Just to see if you guys are poly?"
"No, we did something called a 'Sex Bucket list' and on my list was 'try a threesome,' we switch every day, so it was my turn, and this was the next thing," Soap said.
"Ohh~ a 'Sex Bucket List' that sounds interesting," Lanai said, leaning forward. "Y/n what was your last one?" She asked.
"Try BDSM...it's not for us," Y/n said, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Ohh~ what did you guys do?"
"Bondage, role-playing, discipline, dominance, submission, and sadism," Soap said.
"And that's not your thing? I've done it before...I think it's for me," Lanai said.
"Good for you," Soap said.
Soap pulled into the driveway, and everyone got out of the car, almost immediately Lanai climbed on Soap, wrapping her arms around his neck, he smirks but looked at Y/n like if it was okay before they did anything.
Y/n swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded her head. Soap placed his left hand behind Lanai's head and kissed her lips, his right hand rested on her waist. Y/n just stood behind them playing with her fingers and feeling very, very, nervous.
A few Hours Before this
"You know if you feel uncomfortable, you can just tell me, and we don't have to do this." Soap told Y/n in the car.
"I know, I know...but can we use a safe word or something? So, when I or we say it, we stop it."
"Of course, love. What's a word you want to use?" Soap asked.
"Light?"
"Sure, if that's okay with you?"
"Okay, light it is," Y/n said.
"Also, we will that word most likely be used?" Soap asked.
"I'm not sure...kissing is fine, dick sucking is fine...I guess if you put your dick in them...I think that's were the line is drawn." Y/n said.
"Fair enough," he smiles.
Back to Now
Lanai's hands were now under Soap's shirt touching his toned body as Y/n felt alone while watching them. Soap finally pulled away from her and looked over at Y/n pulling her in and kissing her lips but a little harder than what he was doing with Lanai.
Lanai just backs up and starts to remove her dress from her body, Soap's hands roamed all over Y/n's body. Going to the bottom of her dress and pulling it up squeezing her bare ass.
Y/n let's out a soft moan as Soap smirked. Lanai was only in a black thong and walked back to Soap gaining his attention from Y/n. Y/n started to remove her dress now but being completely bare now.
It was a competition now both girls trying to get Soap's attention and affection. They managed to get upstairs to Soap's and Y/n's shared bedroom. Lanai fell on the bed first as Soap crawled on top of her and removed his shirt and unbuckled his pants.
Y/n sat on her knees watching Soap now kiss Lanai's neck. Lanai turned and smirked at Y/n like she 'got' her man. Y/n played with her fingers full of anxiety.
"Love," Soap said. He pulled her into another kiss, kissing her lips and then her neck, her chest and between her breasts. Lanai smirks and starts to kiss Y/n's shoulder.
Y/n shuttered at Lanai's touch, it just felt...weird in a way, probably because Y/n isn't used to it. Lanai's hands then went up Y/n's side and squeezing Y/n's breasts.
Soap pulled away from Y/n's lips and saw Lanai squeeze her and kiss her. He saw how red Y/n's face was, he couldn't tell if she was enjoying it or not.
He pulls his pants off completely now becoming bare naked. He grabbed a hole of his cock and started to pump himself looking at his girlfriends red face.
Lanai's hand started to move down Y/n's stomach and reached Y/n's clit. Y/n's breath hitched, and Lanai's fingers rubbed circles around on Y/n's clit and soon pushed two fingers inside of her.
Y/n's toes curled, and her nails dug into Lanai's arm and the bedsheets. Soap pumped himself and moaned at the sight of Y/n's face. Lanai looked over Y/n's shoulder and watched Soap pump himself, she pulled her fingers out of Y/n and crawled to Soap taking a hold of his dick and soon putting it in her mouth.
Soap threw his head back and moaned, he looked at Y/n and smirked and motioning his head for her to come closer to him, which she did. She crawled towards him, he bent down kissing her lips, she moaned wanting someone inside of her again, she started to hump against the bedsheets just rubbing her the right way.
Soap heard her moaning and opened his eyes seeing her just slightly humping.
He smirks and takes his dick from Lanai and pushed Y/n on the bed on her stomach. Her ass in the air, he gives her a hard smack on the butt earning a soft moan from her. He pushed himself inside of her, she grips the bedsheets and moans when he started to thrust inside of her.
Lanai crawled to the couple. She got in front of Y/n kissing Y/n's neck again and grabbed her face and started to kiss her lips. Y/n could feel Lanai smirking and soon pulled away from Y/n.
She flipped on her back and showed her wet clit to Y/n. Y/n's never ate someone out before, she has no idea what to do. She looked at Soap for help, but Soap had his head back enjoying his girlfriend.
She looked back at Lanai who was smirking.
"Aww~ don't worry, I'll help you," Lanai said with a smirk. Lanai placed her hand behind Y/n's head and brought her head closer to her lower half.
Y/n stuck her tongue out and licked between her wet folds. Lanai moans and starts to almost hump Y/n's face. Y/n sucked and licked at Lanai's clit. Y/n then got an idea and pushed two fingers inside of Lanai.
Lanai moaned and pushed Y/n's head a little deeper, Y/n thrusted her tongue in and out of Lanai along with her fingers.
Soap looked down seeing the view, he smirks a little bit when he saw his girlfriend eat out Lanai. He grabs a handful of Y/n's hair pulling her away from Lanai's clit, but she still thrusted her fingers into her.
Y/n and Soap started to kiss again. Soap could taste Lanai on Y/n's lips, he smirks and pulled away from her lips. "I didn't know you could do that?"
"I-I-AHH!" She moans when Soap hit her spot.
"Umm~ hello?" Lanai said, looking up at the couple. Y/n looked back at her, and Lanai forced her mouth back on her clit.
Soap watched how forceful Lanai was. He swatted her hand away and grabbed Y/n again.
"I'm not done," Soap growled.
"Neither am I," Lanai growled back. Y/n was stuck in the middle between Lanai wanting to be eaten out and Soap wanting to kiss her lips.
Soap pulled out of Y/n and Y/n fell on her stomach. Lanai and Soap now were making out letting Y/n have a small break. Y/n looked up and watched them.
She sat on her butt hands between her thighs, she wasn't that nervous anymore but was still scared. Lanai pushed Soap on his back and started to rub his dick in her hand, touching his leaky tip and kissing his lips.
She soon got on top of him, her ass in his face and her sucking him off. Y/n crawled to Lanai and helped her suck off Soap. Soap moaned at the feeling and snapped his fingers getting Y/n's attention, just the person he wants.
She moves closer to him and looks into his eyes.
"Fucking sit on my face," he demanded.
She then moves on top of him just barely sitting on his face, but she was soon forced to fully sit. She starts to rub herself on his tongue, his tongue thrusted up into her.
His hands held her waist and grabbed at her boobs, pinching her nipples and squeezing her boobs as well.
Lanai moved from being on him to now licking his base and playing with his balls earning a deep moan from him.
"F-Fuck," Y/n stuttered. She felt herself close to coming. She looks down at him pinching her tits.
"Ahhh~!" Y/n moans and ends up coming in Soap's mouth. She gets up off him and he swallowed her cum. He smirks and starts to kiss her lips.
Lanai then licked his tip as the couple was making out. Lanai also rubbed herself and started to position herself in a way, Y/n turned and looked at Lanai.
"W-What are you d-doing?" Y/n asked.
"I want him inside of me too, duh?" She said.
"B-But that w-wasn't the deal." Soap sat up and moved from Lanai.
When at the bar, when they were talking before this event. Soap had told Lanai that they could do everything, but he doesn't feel comfortable sticking his dick inside of her, she could suck him off, but he wasn't going to fuck her. Lanai had agreed that it was fine but now...she's breaking that deal.
"What's the big deal? I thought you two wouldn't care, since we are seeing each other naked and basically already fucking and I thought we were all comfortable?"
"But we all agreed that I'm not sticking my dick in you?" Soap said. "And no, we're not all comfortable."
"Light." Y/n said. Soap looked at her and Lanai looked confused.
"Light? What the hell is light?"
"Safe word, you can get your shit and leave, now," Soap said.
"What?! Why was I not informed about this 'safe word'?" Lanai asked.
"Because it had nothing to do with you, it was between me and her, so, please grab your shit and leave."
"Fucking whatever, you two are boring anyways."
Soap rolled his eyes and looked at Y/n. Y/n's face was red and had tears in her eyes.
"Love?"
"I'm fine...I don't know why I'm crying," Y/n said, rubbing her eyes and heading to the bathroom.
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3 Hours Later
Soap had sat on the bed and Y/n came out of the bathroom in a towel and got some clothes on. Soap watched his girlfriend change into comfortable clothes.
Y/n laid on her side of the bed and turned away from Soap.
"Love?"
"I'm tired...let me sleep, please."
"Love, come on, I know you want to cuddle," she turned and hugged him. "That's better...we don't ever have to do that again."
"Thank you...I...I don't ever what to do that again."
"Good and we don't have to," Soap grabbed a note pad that was on his nightstand and crossed out number 5 and wrote next to it 'never again.'
#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod x reader#fandom#fanfic#call of duty#mw2#cod#john soap mctavish x you#john soap mctavish x reader#soap mactavish#soap x reader#soap call of duty#soap cod#soap mw2#john soap mactavish#soap mctavish
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Oh yeeessss Aemond and his smart girl fighting like that. Consider: she makes him jealous because she wants to get fucked like that, and he knows but can't help himself. So not only is Aemond being extra mean because he's jealous, but he's also taunting her about how he knew this was her plan. How even when she's not being fucked silly, he's still just one step ahead of her. And every time she tries to argue no, it's not like that, he fucks her just a little harder or does something that makes her lose her mind mid-sentence
And oh yeah, it'd be enemies to lovers for Aegon. Aegon thinks she's too smart for him and probably belongs with someone like Aemond who can keep up with her, and he hates it. He especially hates it when her friends imply he's too dumb for her. He's gonna talk down to her as he ruins her, even mocking her some when she struggles to be coherent. Absolutely loses it if she manages an "only for you" at some point. Don't imagine him not hearing at first so he leans in with a "Aaawww, I don't think I heard you" and then gets that response
💄
inserting a read more for smut purposes.
tw: mentions of creampie, dumbification, jealousy, mindbreak (? just incase), lil slut shaming (not in a mean way), i got carried away and gave aegon a daddy kink (im sorry-), also implied sugar daddy aegon
omg no yes because
aemond, while very comfortable and trusting in their relationship is still very, very insecure due to his eyes. not that his sweet, smart girl would EVER do anything to pick at him over his eye or give him any reason to feel as if he is ANY less than enough for her just because he can’t see out of one eye. however, he is easily jealous due to his disability. anyone that looks at her too long is an immediate red flag and he is averting her away from them. her, he trusts. it’s other people that he doesn’t trust. now in my head aemond is two or three years older than her, but they met due to being in some of the same classes, she is stupid smart and in all the upper levels early, on fast track for early graduation, all that jazz. aemond’s done all the partying he wants to do, but he can’t just say no to her when she’s got her lips pouted and eyes all wide, pleading with him to go with her to some stupid party. he goes and stands in the corner while she dances with her girlfriends, and then some guy that he briefly recognizes walks up and stands too close to her, leans in a little too close to her, she doesn’t push him away either. aemond knows what she’s doing, and he won’t admit but it’s working. he drags her back to his place, so he doesn’t have to deal with her stupid roommate, stripping her and working her up really quick before he just starts running his mouth, punctuating every thrust with taunts dipped in honey. telling her he can’t believe she would go to such extremes to make him so jealous, how he knew what she was doing and asking her if she’s stupid enough to think he’d get jealous over that guy. all she can manage is gaspy moans, her mind unable to keep up with his words as his cock repeatedly drills into her cervix in a borderline painful manner. eventually she just begins nodding on with everything he’s saying, and continuously telling him that she’s his stupid slut and she loves him so much. he really likes it when the only words she can manage are whiney little aemond’s and i love you i love you i love you’s.
poor aegon is literally so insecure :(. i imagine this one being another age gap, a bit bigger, fourish years, they met because she was interning at his dad’s company where he “works” (he won’t admit it but it was love at first site for him) so not only is she stupid smart but she’s that much younger than him and stupid smart. she’s just so fucking smart and all her stupid friends are so fucking smart. he really isn’t even sure why she’s with him but he’s too scared to ask her. her friends never hesitate to make little fucking jabs at him though, they can be pretty fucking mean. and he isn’t a bitch, and he definitely dishes it back, but their words still bother him. one night after too many bad jokes using him as the punchline, he really just snaps. sinking into her the second he gets her panties pulled down right at the front door. telling her that she’s his baby, and she is. he babies the fuck out of her in and out of bed, a big giver as long as he gets praise in return (i digress i just want this man as a sugar daddy). anyway so he’s talking down at her, telling her that she’s his stupid little baby, and that she can’t do anything without him, let alone get off. sometimes when he gets like this after the taunting of her friends, he holds her a little closer while he fucks her, asking who the fuck she belongs to while his cock hits her g-spot and pelvis rubs against her clit, knowing she can’t understand what he’s saying, let alone form a coherent sentence. absolutely looses it when she whines out breathy little yours, yours, yours. he nuts on the spot when he says what was that baby, i don’t think i heard you? and the moan he gets back is yours, daddy.
#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon smut#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond smut#hotd smut#modern aegon ii#modern aemond#modern house of the dragon au#modern hotd#modern hotd au#hotd x reader#💄anon
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So in the 90s there were a couple movies about how an office job is soul sucking and unfulfilling and you need to get out, unlike the vibe post-2008 about the difficulties of being poor and not having a job.
I occasionally see this idea that the difference is showing how much worse the economy's gotten, but I actually think the discrepancy is that for a brief period in the 90s, we let artists make movies about how much it sucks to not be an artist.
I cannot find the article again, but 15 years ago I read a Cracked piece about how every single Office Space-type movie was made by someone who was such an awful fit for office life that they ran away to Hollywood to make movies etc. instead. And that's thrice selected for: First, for being such an awful fit that running away to Hollywood was better, second, for that actually working out instead of leading to a lifetime of waiting tables, and third for being successful enough that you can make movies about dumb shit in your life like going through a divorce or how much it sucks to work a 9-5 office job*.
And it can suck! But most people find it to be tolerable, and just get their life satisfaction and meaning from stuff outside their workspace. They make art or have a softball league or write fanfiction or bake cookies or fall in love or listen to music, and the job is a varying pleasant to tedious thing they do 40 hours a week that nonetheless is not an existential crisis. Say what you will about The Office (US)**, but it spent a lot of time showing how every character found their meaning in life outside of Dunder-Mifflin, whether that was religion or love or Art; Michael failing to realize this was a Sign.
'*I will never stop hating on Office Space for acting like working in fucking construction is somehow a better deal than a office job. Absolute peak of privileged thinking. Talk to a few guys with permanent damage and explain to them why writing out weekly reports was worse.
'** Not the UK version, which falls exactly into the trap I'm talking about here and spends it runtime bitching about how the Office kills your soul. You're successful writers in the incestuous pit that is British Television, don't act like you're actually knowledgeable too
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