#but in a rush just so i could adjust pen settings

[diseaseapedia]

Technically I've already drawn something,,

[aealzx]

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Prologue | AO3

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The rest of lunch was filled with more casual chatter, and after somewhat helping Alfred clean up the dishes the group headed for the Batcave. Bruce was quick to wordlessly lift Danny onto his arm again once they got close to the stairs, setting him down carefully close to the main computer as Damian fetched a rolling stool and Tim started to set up the computer for what they needed.

“Don’t feel like you need to rush. If you need a break we can come back to this later,” Bruce assured quietly as Danny gratefully took a seat on the stool.

“Here’s the pen,” Tim was quick to come over as well, holding out what looked like a tablet stylus with a few buttons for Danny to take. “Hold the front button to free draw. And if you want to do straight lines between points just tap the button higher up to switch modes, tap the front button for each point of the lines, and double tap to end the connection on the current line,” he explained, manipulating Danny’s hand to follow the instructions as well as demonstrate the functions.

Danny was surprised to see faintly glowing hologram lines appear wherever the pen tip was when the buttons were pushed, huffing a small giggle in pleasant surprise. “Woah…. So cool,” he commented, impressed by the advanced technology. “Uhm…. So, I guess… the entrance was like this…,” he rambled brokenly, figuring he should just get going and get up to start drawing what he could remember in the open space.

It took him a second to get the hang of the device, and with Tim following him around to be able to make any adjustments Danny requested he ended up getting caught up in the explanations and feeling less scrutinized. His movements were a bit slow as he tried to conserve his energy, and sometimes he had to float to reach where he needed to, but it was a lot more effective than trying to describe what no one else could see.

“The frame is mounted on the wall, and there’s two metal doors embedded in the wall that we can use to somewhat close the portal. It doesn’t block anything that can go intangible, but it keeps humans out and masks the gateway from being easy to find while in the Infinite Realms. There’s a simple alarm light on top that alerts us of any anomalies. And a filtration system on the right side. Which is actually one of the more important parts. Like I said earlier, the portal extends into the wall about… this far. It’s masked by the ectoplasmic energy now that the portal is on, but I looked into it more closely a few months ago. There’s some sort of structure within the tunnel walls that directs the flow of ectoplasm once it’s pulled from the Infinite Realm. It loops on itself, in a spiral, passing through the ecto filter first. The raw ectoplasm from the realm is corrupted, and we use the filter to strip out the impurities. Kind of like separating the different elements of human blood. Then it gets bounced around within the tunnel, hitting eight hot spots here, here, hm,” he hummed for the rest of the points, as he drew circles to mark them, “all before getting pulled back to the middle again, which creates the visual spiral we can see in the portal from the outside. There’s a minor amount of electricity maintaining certain functions, but for the most part it’s self sustained by the ectoplasm.”

At that point Danny had moved around enough his legs were starting to hurt and feel weak, so he plopped back on the stool from before. It seemed to be a good time to take a break anyway, for Wally and Raven were starting to walk around the crude designs.

“...This is a fibonacci spiral…Or at least it’s extremely close,” Wally spoke up first after coming to a stop in front of the diagram again, gesturing to the energy current lines. “And you said the measurements weren’t exact?”

“Yeah. I measured the opening once, and it was very slightly over two meters in diameter. With the tunnel going back about three meters, but also slightly more. I just thought it was because my parents weren’t being careful with the measurements,” Danny confirmed with a tired nod, absently rubbing his leg.

“Or it needed a different measurement system…,” Wally mused, a few thoughts starting to click in his head. “Tim, make the diameter 2.094 meters, and the depth 3.141 meters. Then space out the concentration points to match a fibonacci spiral.”

As Tim tapped on a wireless keyboard to adjust the diagram according to Wally’s direction he squinted slightly. “Two point… Wait, that’s the conversion for four and six Egyptian Cubits respectively. That’s one of the oldest measurement systems.”

“From one of the oldest civilizations known for being rather involved when it came to matters of the dead,” Wally added as a way to confirm Tim had come to the same realization as him.

“Egyptian cubits?” Danielle repeated, scrunching her nose in confusion. “What would that have to do with anything? And why four and six?”

“They’re numbers that different cultures associate with the dead. Four, six, and also eight like the concentration points,” Wally explained, pointing to the different aspects. “Combined with the fibonacci spiral, one of the most common shapes that has often been associated with representing life, and it’s starting to look like this portal is a ritual for life and death.”

“It does,” Raven confirmed with a nod, stepping forward. “The method is old, it’s not really used anymore in modern techniques because of how simplistic it is. It leaves too much up to the one performing the ritual, which means there’s a much larger chance for error. Was this all they had? This was enough for them to get it to work?”

It was a little alarming to hear Raven and Wally imply that the Fenton couple had most likely unintentionally performed a rather old and risky mystic ritual or something instead of just messing with science. But what caused Danny to pause the most was Raven’s question if it had worked. He wasn’t sure he wanted to answer that. He knew he should probably tell them the truth, but he didn’t exactly like talking about that event.

Unfortunately Sam didn’t seem to share his reluctance. “It didn’t work,” she admitted a little too bluntly, causing Danny to flinch. “From what I heard nothing at all happened when they turned it on. It wasn’t until Danny was looking around inside it that it actually activated.”

That revelation caused a few reactions of surprise from the others who didn’t already know, and Danny couldn’t help squeezing his left hand as a faint memory caused it to burn with phantom pain, crawling up his arm.

“Wait- You were inside the portal when it activated?!” Wally burst, gaping at Danny in extreme concern.

It was hard to figure out how to answer without having to fall too far back into the memory of that event, which caused Danny to remain quiet for a stretch of time, pressing his thumb into his palm tightly as his gaze couldn’t focus on anything for the moment. Eventually he forced himself to meet Wally’s gaze, drawing a slightly shuddering breath before answering. “...What?... Did you think I got this way by drinking ectoplasm or something?” he tried to joke, but the tremor in his voice made it fail.

No one seemed to know how to respond to that, realizing that Danny had ended up half dead because of an accident with an unstable lab experiment. Something that Wally was no stranger to himself, but it still something he wasn’t pleased to hear.

With the awkward silence, Jason gave a small huff and strode forward to semi roughly cup his hand on the back of Danny’s head and ruffle his hair a little. “Guess that’s one way to do it,” he muttered, just to break the silence and try to provide some sort of comfort.

With his comment, Raven took that as a chance to voice her own questions. “...Were either of your parents present when it happened?” she asked, confusion prompting her.

“...No, they weren’t even home,” Danny confirmed, feeling defensive in case Raven was going to say something to blame them or something.

She didn’t have anything to say about Jack and Maddie’s actions though, instead falling into an even more confused, thoughtful silence. “...That doesn’t make any sense…,” she muttered absently.

“What’s the anomaly?” Damian asked, prompting her to speak more.

“There was no offer of intent,” Raven responded, looking up and accepting the unspoken direction to explain. “This arrangement is the bare minimum material construction for an inter realm gateway. But because of that there are parts of the ritual that are missing, that still have to be fulfilled for it to work. Mainly payment, and instruction of intent. These days the intent is usually inscribed into the array to facilitate clarity and stability, and the payment is usually in the form of something being added to the array with the intent to sacrifice it.”

“Wait- So all those stereotypes of people being sacrificed to summoning rituals and stuff isn’t baseless?” Tucker sputtered, immediately associating Raven’s choice of words for meaning human sacrifices.

“Living people are one of the highest forms of payment, so unfortunately it can be common to use them,” Raven confirmed. “But even so, there has to be someone else there to express the desire to use them as payment, and determine what for. Which, from what you’ve all explained, there wasn’t anyone there to do so. I can’t imagine any of you wanting to kill Danny, and I doubt he was trying to offer himself since none of you even knew that was a requirement.”

“Hold up- Are you saying the portal only opened because it took Danny as a sacrifice?!” Danielle blurted, subconsciously stepping in front of Danny defensively.

“Excuse me!?” Jazz gasped, also moving forward.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense for what you’re telling me to have worked,” Raven insisted defensively, withdrawing slightly. “If it was a temporary portal I can understand if there was somehow an annulment of payment since the cost is much smaller. But considering the portal has remained open all this time that must mean a standing contract of sorts was established. Especially when we consider Danny’s state as a perfect liminal being. It seems like the Liminal Realm adopted Danny as one of its own in return for allowing a permanent connection to be established. An equal exchange, a link between two realms with a being who represents that connection.”

“That’s impossible,” Danny snapped, rising to his feet again. “I don’t know what realms you’ve worked with, but the Infinite Realms don’t function like that. Getting into them is probably a lot harder than I thought, sure. But there had to be someone there. The realm wouldn’t just…kill me on its own.”

“The realm of Hell is well known for taking the lives of people any chance it can. Especially those who mess around with rituals unknowingly. If you can’t imagine anyone who was there having a clear intent to sacrifice you, then it would have had to have been the realm itself choosing to take you,” Raven explained, forcing herself to remain calm and not trying to be antagonistic.

“Well I don’t know anything about Hell, but out of the two of us I’m pretty sure I know the most about the Infinite Realms,” Danny snapped back, memories of other people not being willing to listen to him about important matters causing him to get quickly irritated from anxiousness. “So when I tell you that it doesn’t operate that way, then believe me. There might not be much in the way of laws inside the Infinite Realms, but that’s because the highest law that the Realm has is that everyone always has a choice.”

“How do you know that for certain?” Bruce asked, his voice much calmer than the others as he was only trying to add data to back up that apparent fact. He was also trying to help the two children break off their argument by giving them another person to address, but it didn’t quite work.

“Because I’m not the Ghost King!” Danny exclaimed, having the brief thought that he should probably settle down and destress as he was rapidly starting to feel dizzy, but being too invested in the conversation to listen to his own mind. He couldn’t allow another misunderstanding about the Infinite Realms to persist. Not again. “Clockwork said we always have a choice, and it listened when I said no- It accepted me saying no, even though that meant there’d be no king. It wouldn’t-...” he broke off as the dizziness suddenly increased, causing him to sway and be unable to keep himself standing as he put his hands to his head. His face felt hot despite the rest of him starting to feel frigid.

Luckily Wally was quick to zip over to him and catch him, pulling Danny close and crouching carefully to help him partially lay down without being on the floor.

“Danny!”

There were several people who called his name out of varying levels of concern, but there wasn’t much they could do without crowding as Dick made it to their side first.

“...His fever spiked,” Dick informed after resting the back of his hand on Danny’s cheek and forehead. Danny didn’t respond, his head was still spinning, but he wasn’t surprised. Stupid him and pushing himself too far. Again.

“S… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stress him out,” Raven apologized readily, her hands gripping each other in front of her.

“We know you didn’t. The conversation simply got out of hand,” Damian consoled as Tim brought the discarded blanket from before over to the others to get Danny bundled up again.

“Yeah well… telling someone they were murdered instead of dying accidentally is kind of a big deal,” Jason pointed out, feeling a bit snippy from his own unsettled emotions.

“Regardless, I think we’ve learned enough to know we should try something else,” Wally spoke up before anyone could react to that comment. “We can problem solve other issues later if needed, but it’s probably best to conclude for the rest of the day.” And to enforce that statement more he scooped Danny up to prepare to take him back up to bed. “Bruce, let’s bypass the Infinite Realms. Do you think they’d be up for having a realm frequency scan at the Watchtower? Maybe this weekend? It’ll probably be better to just try to connect directly to their realm instead of dropping them off in the connecting one.”

It was a good idea from what they had just learned, even if they had originally explored this possibility to try to use something the kids were familiar with. Bruce nodded in agreement. “I’ll make arrangements. Thank you for your time today.”

Nodding back to Bruce, Wally turned to head back up stairs with Dick following to bring the IV pole along. “Alright kiddo, let’s go back to taking a break,” he commented to Danny, who just let out a grumbled noise of annoyance as well as discomfort while shrinking into the blanket. It earned a chuckle from Wally, who could understand the frustration the boy had even if he couldn’t personally relate. “At least you had an actual meal today. I hear you’ve been stuck to bread and broth for now, which totally suuuucks.”

It was idle chatter as they took the stairs, but it did help Danny feel a little less like a weakling. As they left Tim saved the progress they made on the computer, then turned to look at Danielle since she was the easiest to get answers from. “What did he mean by Ghost King? I wasn’t aware that the Liminal or Infinite Realm or whatever had a monarchy.”

“Eh, we didn’t know for a long time either. But since everyone is allowed to make their own choices, a long time ago some ghost named Pariah Dark made himself king because no one could beat him and he was greedy. But a couple years ago Danny kicked his butt, and some people wanted him to be the new Ghost King because of that. He said no though, so now there’s currently an anarchy,” Danielle explained easily, shrugging.

“He said no to being a king?” Jason asked, both confused and mildly impressed.

“Ruling a realm is a lot to ask of a fourteen year old. Especially a realm full of chaotic ghosts who are apparently only there because they were too stubborn to fully die,” Danielle answered, folding her arms with a mild chuckle.

“That, and Danny didn’t think it counted because he was using a suit that enhanced his abilities a hundred fold,” Sam added.

“Over time he’ll probably get to the same level anyway. But the suit disappeared, so it wasn’t like keeping the title from anyone that challenged him would be easy either,” Tucker added on top of the others.

“He had enough to deal with trying to balance school, hiding from our parents, and dealing with the other ghosts causing trouble. He didn’t need to add ruling a realm on top of that,” Jazz enforced, having always agreed with Danny’s decision.

“Smart,” Jason acknowledged, though he wasn’t sure if he would make the same choice. Ditching the rest of highschool to become a king for a realm with very few people actually didn't sound all that bad.

“My turn for a question,” Danielle spoke up, raising her hand unnecessarily and earning some snickers.

“Sure, what’s up?” Stephanie accepted, feeling it was only fair the visitors got to ask their own questions.

“It’s actually more for Raven,” Danielle clarified, pointing to the girl. “Earlier, when we were doing the whole ritual thingy to get ectoplasm, you mentioned that Danny and I are favored by other realms. And just now you said that the ectoplasm was a gift to me from the Infinite Realm, and talked about how the Realm was the one that took Danny. But I thought realms weren’t sentient…… Are they?”

It was a question that mildly surprised Raven, but she was happy to clarify and elaborate further. “No, they’re not actually sentient in the sense that the realm itself has a mind of its own. Realms have often been mentioned to act, or favor someone, or behave in some manner akin to sentience because it’s easier for people to understand in some regards. But really it’s just the result of the cumulative thoughts and emotions of the beings who belong to that realm. The reason you and Danny are favored by the Liminal Realm is more because the people of the realm seem to like you.”

“Wha- really?” Danielle blinked, openly confused despite that explanation also having made some sense. “I always thought most of the people there didn’t like us.”

“Most of the other ghosts do seem to like picking fights with you two when they show up,” Sam agreed, finding it amusing that the Infinite Realm’s people apparently had favorites.

“Well… like is probably not the correct word,” Raven admitted. “They ‘favor’ you in some manner.”

“I thought being a favorite was just a more intense form of liking something,” Tucker countered, that clarification having not mitigated his confusion at all.

“People always have favorites. But they’re not always nice to their favorites. A favorite punching bag, for example,” Raven tried again, this time earning understanding nods and being able to move on. “Now if you’re wondering why you were given a gift from the realm, when someone is a Realm's favorite they're usually bestowed with special privileges and abilities. Like how Superman seems to be pretty indestructible. Batman has some unusually lucky situations. Things like that. Those boons are normally spread between all who are favorites of the realm. But it is possible when there's only one, distinct favorite they could become more akin to that of a god. I’ve noticed that you and Danny have a rather distinct connection to the Liminal Realm that makes me think you’re quite favored in varying regards.”

“Wait, hold on,” Tucker sputtered, realizing something from Raven’s suggestions. “Are you implying that Danny might be getting, I dunno, new powers or something, because the other ghosts really like using him as a punching bag?”

The connection being said aloud earned a barked laugh from Jason and Stephanie, but Raven only gave a slight smile. “Perhaps,” she half agreed. “It’s a potential that could happen based on what I’ve read and heard.”

“HA! Poor kids,” Stephanie snorted, “At least you’re given stuff to fight back with.”

“Yeaaaah being the favorite child is starting to not seem like a good thing,” Danielle chuckled along with her in good nature.

“So…,” Tim started, pulling them back to a connected issue, “Back to the more uncomfortable part of this. Danny being used as a sacrifice to open that portal was essentially because… enough people in the Liminal Realm were aware of him, aware of the event, and willing to use him?”

“That’s… an accurate way to put it,” Raven admitted, though she wasn’t completely sure herself either. “Based on what I’ve heard, and using simple logic, that would make sense. But I don’t know how true it is, since I don’t know what the Realm was like at the time the portal was opened. There could have been a specific person there, it could have been a collective desire… I don’t know. But I’m fairly certain Danny is the reason the portal is open.”

It was a somber thought, but Tucker couldn’t help shuddering as another thought came to mind. “Makes you wonder how Vlad got his portal to work.”

“You say that like you actually believe the man hasn’t already killed someone before,” Sam retorted dryly, unimpressed.

“...Fair point,” Tucker agreed.

“.... Aaaaand Vlad is?” Tim prodded, starting to think this was someone they should know about after that exchange.

“The guy that created me, and almost killed me,” Danielle responded bluntly, expression going decidedly neutral.

“A sick freak that wants to kill Danny’s dad so he can marry his mom and adopt him as his own child,” Sam added, folding her arms.

“...Ooookay. Write that down Tim. We do not make friends with this Vlad guy, and definitely keep him away from these guys,” Stephanie prodded, poking at Tim since he still had the keyboard for the computer, earning a few snickers from the others.

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Iiiii couldn't manage to focus on anything else to work on today, so I ended up catching up on what I had written |D Lot's of headcanon in this one.

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[genshin-impact-updates]

Vanquisher of Phantoms, Vigil of the Long Night

"...Word to the wise, friend. The evidence against you is irrefutable. If you want to uphold your honor, atonement is an option. You could still do much good... There's no need to resort to a duel. I mean, your opponent is Clorinde. *That* Clorinde, you hear? Oh, for the love of the Fountain of Lucine... If you go up against her, you'll wind up without even the strength to confess your crimes!"

— A sincere letter that a certain wealthy merchant who had pleaded "Not Guilty" received on the eve of a duel.

◆ Name: Clorinde

◆ Title: Candlebearer, Shadowhunter

◆ Champion Duelist

◆ Vision: Electro

◆ Constellation: Rapperia

Disputes are a Mora a dozen in Fontaine, day in and day out.

A playwright might accuse a fanatical reader of imitating their style and taking up a pen name too close to their own, to the point that even the newspapers could not distinguish the genuine article. A merchant might accuse a colleague of targeted, malicious, cutthroat competition, of not only constantly adjusting their prices, but of intentionally setting up shop directly opposite them...

Ordinary disputes can be settled by Gardes rushing onto the scene, but there are always a minority of claimants who, thinking themselves most clever in their ulterior intent, will obstinately press for court proceedings just to get their name out there — and if their duel applications were to be approved, they might be famous indeed!

However, if some well-meaning neighbor were to tell them: "I've heard that the most recently rostered Champion Duelist is Miss Clorinde..."

These same clever folk would almost instantly be deflated of all their arrogant airs, like a Violetgold Angler Gull caught by the neck, and cease such prattle altogether.

For all are well-acquainted with the name of the "mightiest" Champion Duelist.

Beneath her blade, all despicable deeds that aim to capitalize on mere fortune under the guise of decency will show their true colors — and she has never once known defeat in a duel.

"...Ahem. Oh, uh... I suppose there's no need to go that far, is there?

So does a clever person, very nearly hoisted by their own petard, flee the scene.

And thus is another such altercation, undercut by ulteriority, discreetly dissipated.

[psychedelic-pebble]

Leashed — Stanford Pines x GN!Reader

hey guys haha i havent posted a proper fic in a while so here, this one is super embarrassing though please dont look at me 😭

Warnings: NSFW Content, Petplay, Puppyplay, BDSM, Dom!Stanford, Sub!Reader, P in V Sex, Mild Breeding - MDNI.

Stanford has always been an adventurous man, so it comes to the surprise of absolutely no one that it translates over into the bedroom as well. You match his pace incredibly well, springing new ideas and scenarios on him whenever possible. He’s always been willing to give new things a shot, so long as it’s safe and so long as it’s you.

Currently busy scribbling away in his journal he completely misses the sound of the rusty elevator doors creaking open, followed by your footsteps on the dusty lab floor.

You sidle over to him and drape your arms around his shoulders, pressing your head against the side of his throat which causes him to stiffen against your touch.

“Hey.” You smile and Ford immediately relaxes at the sound of your voice, setting his pen down on the table. He brings a hand up to brush the side of your face, stroking your jaw gently with his thumb.

“Hello.” He leans into you, a smile breaking out on his usually stoic face. “What do you need, my dear?”

You hum thoughtfully for a moment, carding your fingers through his messy hair and mussing it further.

“I got some stuff today.” Ford perks up a little at your words, brows raising slightly. “I, uh, wanted to try something new. In the bedroom.”

He turns his chair so that he’s facing you, causing you to stumble a little, but he reaches an arm out to steady you before you can fall. His arm comes to rest around your waist, pulling you gently closer as he looks up at you with big, curious eyes.

“Oh? Color me intrigued.” A small grin appears on his face, awaiting your response. You pull out of his touch and motion for him to follow you, which he does, standing and closing his journal to wander after you.

“I put it upstairs. I hope it’s not too weird.” You give a sheepish smile as the two of you board the elevator, and he places a hand flat on your back to comfort your fears.

“Darling, I’ve seen almost everything in and out of this dimension.” He chuckles, rubbing your back gently. “I highly doubt that it’s too weird.”

You both exit the elevator and you tug him along to your shared bedroom, kicking the door shut behind you and rushing excitedly over to the box sitting on your bed. A soft laugh escapes him as you quickly beckon him over.

“Excited, are we?” He sits down next to you on the bed, looking at the closed box. You nod, flashing a grin and opening the box to rifle through it.

He watches intently as you pull out the few items, tilting his head to the side curiously. You hold up a beautiful deep red and black collar with a matching metal chain leash, almost the same color as his sweater. He blinks a few times, raising an eyebrow and you swear you can hear the cogs turning in his brain.

“I thought it might spice things up a little.” You look away embarrassedly. “I could, uh, wear it.”

“You… want me to treat you like a dog?” He tilts his head adorably, clearly attempting to understand better.

“Essentially.” You nod, and he hums in thought.

“I think I can give it a shot.” He leans closer to press a kiss to your forehead and you give a big, dumb smile.

You lean back to slip the collar on with a satisfying ‘click!’ sound, adjusting it so that it's tight enough but not suffocating you. It presses comfortably against your trachea, with just the right amount of pressure to make you more than a little hot and bothered. You reach back into the box to grab one more item, Ford watching curiously as you pull out a gag.

“I also got this, but we don’t have to use it if you don’t want t-”

“No, wear it.” Stanford cuts you off, almost flustering himself with the quickness of his objection. His face reddens almost immediately, and he clears his throat. “If you’d like to, of course.”

You grin, fidgeting with the harness of the gag in your hands. It’s a beautiful carmine color, with black leather straps accompanying it.

“Should I undress?” You look up at him, and he hums thoughtfully.

“Everything but your underwear,” Stanford responds after a moment, clearly already thinking up a plan. You love that expression he has, when he’s thinking hard about something. When his eyebrows furrow and his eyes cast upwards absently.

Without a second thought, you set the gag down and stand to remove your shirt, pulling it upwards and casting it to the floor. He looks mildly awestruck — as he usually does when you’re undressed — and shamelessly stares at your torso with a dumb grin.

You shyly look away, fidgeting with your pants button awkwardly. He chuckles, scooting to the edge of the bed and reaching out to hold your hips with both hands. All twelve fingers come to rest on your hips, pulling you slightly closer.

“Don’t be so shy, darling.” He purrs, hands running inwards towards your abdomen and unbuttoning your pants with steady movements. “You know I love seeing you.”

A small blush creeps onto your face, accompanied by a flustered smile. He carefully unzips your pants and eases them down your thighs, nudging your legs apart ever so slightly to get them off easier whilst trying not to make you fall over at the same time.

You step out of your now discarded jeans and fidget with your hands, unsure what to do with them. Stanford leans closer and wraps a hand around the shiny metal chain clipped to the collar, pulling your head down roughly - but not painfully - so that you’re face to face with him. You make a sort of yelp noise, stumbling slightly but catching yourself before you can fall.

“Before we do this, I want to ensure your safety.” He says almost matter-of-factly, looking up at you. “If you need to tap out, just give two or three taps anywhere on my body, since you won’t be able to speak. If you’re unable to reach my body, hit the floor, or the bed.”

“Yessir.” You smile and nod, and he relaxes visibly, getting back into the persona of dominance.

“Can I put this on you now?” He reaches to the side to grab the gag, lifting it and holding it in front of your face. You give a shy nod, and he lets go of the chain to wrap the harness around your head with both hands. “Open, sweetheart.”

You realize after a minute that he’s asking you to open your mouth. Almost instantaneously after realizing it, you open your mouth so that your teeth are showing, tongue pressed flat against the bottom to accommodate for the gag. He hums, placing it gently in your mouth and reaching around to buckle it.

“Too tight?” He asks, and you make a muffled sound as if trying to respond before shaking your head. He laughs quietly, placing a hand on top of your head to give a few gentle strokes. “Good. Now, what should I do with you?”

You know it’s a rhetorical question, and he likely already knows what he’s going to do, but that doesn’t stop you from making a small whine.

“Aww,” he cooes, bringing the hand on your head down to your chin to give it a few affectionate scratches, “poor puppy doesn’t know what to do.”

You whine again, embarrassment slowly fading as he gets more into the roleplay. He hums in thought for a moment, toying with the chain dangling from your neck.

“How about this; get on your knees for me.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re on the floor almost immediately in front of him, knees pressed against the floor while you kneel.

You awkwardly hold your arms to your sides, unsure what to do with them, before Ford takes one and lifts it so that your arm is curled against your chest.

“Paws up, puppy.” Ford commands and you immediately bring your other hand up to match. “Good.”

He pats your head a few times, ruffling your hair while his other hand holds the chain. He gets that thoughtful expression on his face again, this time though, he holds eye contact with you, looking affectionately at you.

“Hmm.. let’s try this. Lay down.” He says after a moment of silence. You blink up at him, registering the command and attempting to execute it.

You scoot back slightly, placing your hands on the floor and laying on your stomach with your legs tucked underneath you. Ford makes an affectionate sound, reaching down to ruffle your hair again.

“Good puppy! Now, let’s try something harder… Roll over.” His voice is sweet and smooth in a way you’ve never heard before - he must be getting really into this.

You shift upwards slightly before ducking your head down, rolling over onto your back and keeping your arms curled up against your chest like a dog. He smiles, getting up off the bed to kneel next to you.

“What a good little pup, so obedient.” He reaches out a hand and places it flat on your belly, giving a couple of affectionate strokes. You arch your back upwards without question, and he chuckles. “Aw, does my puppy like tummy rubs?”

You make a drawn-out whine, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He laughs and inches his hand lower, just barely brushing beneath the waistband of your underwear. You wiggle your hips up into his touch and he draws his hand away, tutting at you.

“Not yet, pup. I have one more trick for you. Then you’ll get a treat.”

You give him a hopeful look, tilting your head to the side and he hums fondly, although his eyes glint with a certain mischief that you just barely miss.

“Beg.” Comes his short command, and you look confused for a second. The gag in your mouth made it impossible to speak, and he snickers at your expression. “C’mon, puppy. Don’t you want that reward?”

You whimper around the gag and he gives an encouraging nod. Realizing he doesn’t want you to beg like a person, you shamelessly begin whining and whimpering, looking up at him with big puppy-dog eyes. When he looks unfazed, you try harder, eyebrows furrowing as you huff and cry as best you can.

“There you go.” Ford grins, grabbing the collar and pulling up slightly. You follow his lead, sitting up and looking at him, waiting ever-so-patiently for that reward.

He leans closer to press a kiss to the crown of your head, running the hand not currently occupied by the chain through the hair on the nape of your neck. He tugs the chain a little bit, standing and sitting on the bed.

“Up.” He pats the bed next to him, and you hop up without a second thought. He suddenly grasps the edges of his sweater, pulling it up and over his head before turning to you. “On your hands and knees.”

You’re too far in to even be embarrassed at this point, willingly getting on your hands and knees in front of him. He grins, slipping off those clunky boots he always insists on wearing and crawling onto the bed behind you.

You startle slightly as his hands grab your hips roughly, pulling you back into him. An outright moan rips through the gag as you feel him pressed against you - he’s completely hard in his slacks.

“Still want that reward?” Stanford asks, rubbing soothing circles into your hips with his thumbs. What a gentleman.

You nod feverishly, grinding your ass back onto his now prominent erection which prompts a hiss from Ford. He nods, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and all but yanking them down. You yelp quietly, and he laughs, leaning back to shuffle out of his pants and boxers.

“So wet. You really like this, huh puppy?” He palms your ass, spreading you apart for him, before running his thumb down the slit of your cunt. You jolt, whining pathetically around the gag and pushing your hips back into his hand.

He growls a little, a deep, primal sound that you’ve heard at least a hundred times at this point. You can’t see it, but he’s got a huge, almost feral, grin on his face.

The head of his cock bumps your entrance and you hiss, whining and clawing at the sheets as your front half collapses onto the bed, leaving you face down ass up for him. His grip on your hips is almost bruising as he eases his cock into you, a low groan forcing itself from his lungs.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He growls through his teeth, self-restraint a thread away from breaking as his hips meet yours. You make a whiny gasp, feeling as though the air was just knocked from your chest.

He gives you the comfort of waiting for you to adjust, but his hands shake a little on your hips, obviously impatient.

“Ready, pup?” He asks through gritted teeth, the same feral grin splitting his face. You nod after a minute, clawing the sheets and pressing your hips back.

He reaches down to grab the chain, pulling it around your neck so that it’s facing him. You shudder a little at the movement, and, just as a precaution, Stanford leans down to ask a question before he starts moving.

“Remember the safe wor- err, action?” He massages your hip gently, referring to the earlier conversation and making sure you know you can back out if it gets too much.

You nod, pressing your hips back into his. He groans and draws his hips back slightly, snapping them suddenly forward and fucking a moan that’s downright pornographic out of you. One hand rests on your hip, the other white knuckle gripping the chain around your throat and pulling it gently with every thrust.

He fucks you like he’ll die if he stops, hips moving with a rhythm that should be impossible for his age, but you figure 30 years of dimension-hopping will make you at least a little more athletic. You can barely form a sentence at this rate, his cock pumping deep, ferocious stokes inside of you that make you feel dizzy.

The tip of his cock jams into a sweet spot and you see stars, crying out and clenching hard around him.

“Fuck-!” Stanford’s grip on your hips tightens, and he leans down to growl in your ear. “Right there, pup? Yeah?”

You make a whiny noise of confirmation and he laughs, angling his hips to keep hitting that spot. You’re not gonna last long at this point, and you know he’s not going to either.

It’s hard to warn someone you’re about to cum with silicone stuffed in your mouth, but you try anyways, whines getting louder and more desperate, and he seems to understand. He somehow fucks into you impossibly faster, reaching his own release along with you.

“Can I, fuck- can I cum inside of you?” His voice is almost akin to a plea, and are you to deny him such a request? He did ask nicely, after all.

You nod your head again, emphasizing with a muffled whimper. His eyes screw shut and his head tilts back as he thrusts a few more times, stilling suddenly as he reaches his peak, stuffing your cunt full of hot cum and making a noise that sounds straight out of a porno.

You cry out and gasp, shaking and clenching around him as he haphazardly fucks you through your orgasm, making sure you reach it too. It’s like fireworks go off inside your brain and you’re certain you’ve never cum this hard before, pleasure sparking up your spine as the coil in your belly finally snaps.

You both take a good while to come down, panting and shaking a little as he rubs gently up and down your back. He pulls out eventually, making you whimper softly from the overstimulation.

He sits next to you as you lifelessly flop over onto the bed, hands still twitching from the intensity of your orgasm. He reaches over to remove the gag, unhooking the buckle and pulling it out of your mouth.

“Bleeugh,” a thick line of saliva drips from your mouth and onto the bed, “…sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Stanford chuckles, placing the gag down on the nightstand after wiping it off with a tissue. “We can wash the sheets later.”

He rolls over and pulls you into his arms, throwing the blanket over you both and reaching over to unbuckle the collar so that you don’t suffocate in your sleep. He puts that on the nightstand as well, before cuddling up to you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, dear.” He smiles, carding a hand through your hair. “I enjoyed myself as well, although I’m fairly certain my back will be sore for a while.”

“Thank you for indulging me.” You laugh, snuggling into him.

“Anything for you, my dearest.”

It doesn’t take long for you both to drift off, the night's events being entirely exhausting for both of you, and you’re both sure you discovered something new about yourselves.

Thank you as always for reading, and i hope you enjoyed <3

[leighsartworks216]

... Oops

Harvey x gn!Farmer

Had this thought when I remembered I had to take my meds tonight. I just think it would be nice to have someone who takes care of you when you're a bit stupid and forget to take very important meds 👉👈

Also, Baja Blast is the actual name of my blue chicken lmao

Also also, this is written in third person POV instead of my usual second person POV

Warnings: swearing, dizziness, anxiety, possibly OOC Harvey

Word Count: 1,592

Masterlist

AO3

Harvey rubbed at his eyes as he slipped out of bed, glancing absentmindedly at the empty space beside him. The farmer was already up, of course. He worried for them when he realized how early they woke up each day, but it couldn't be helped if they wanted to take care of their farm all in one day.

He adjusted his glasses on his face as he shuffled to the kitchen. A cup of hot coffee sat on the counter waiting for him, as it always was. He smiled to himself. Fresh coffee from beans they grew themselves always tasted better than anything Gus could ever dream of making. It was perfectly bitter and smooth as he gulped it down.

He looked out the window of the cabin that overlooked the field left to the farmer by their grandfather. There weren't any unwanted stumps, logs or boulders anymore. Fences penned in the animals as they meandered about, munching on fresh grass. The crops were already watered. The scarecrows teetered slightly in the breeze, the fabric of their gloves almost appearing to wave back at him. He always enjoyed the one that resembled an animated movie character - the farmer had been so proud of it when they stuck it into the ground.

His eyes scanned the paths and fences, searching for his partner.

Hm, they must be in one of the barns.

He stared out a while longer, hoping to catch a glimpse as they came out. A concerned frown etched its way onto his face, but he tried writing off the anxiety swarming in his gut. They're probably just refilling the feeders or refilling their kegs or... Really, it's nothing to get worried about. They knew what they were doing! As long as they stayed out of those damn mines, he had nothing to worry about.

He sighed, shaking his head to remove the flood of worried thoughts in his head. Downing the last of the coffee and placing the mug in the sink, he went off to the bathroom to get ready for a day in the clinic.

He peeked out the window again after he got out of the shower. A blue chicken - a gift from Shane the farmer had named Baja Blast - clucked cheerily as it walked out of the open gate. The farmer usually kept the gates closed, always worrying about coyotes or foxes coming to eat their precious hens. It was unusual for them to keep it open, even if they were inside the coop.

He bustled about in a slight rush to get dressed and gather his things for work, namely a giant thermos of coffee and a lunch prepared for him waiting in the fridge, before slipping out of the cabin. He set it all down on a rocking chair sitting on the porch, creaking in the wind.

Baja Blast clucked up at him as he scooped her into his arms. “C’mon, you shouldn’t be out here. All your food is in here,” he says to the chicken as he steps through the gate and closes it behind him. With a cursory glance back, it didn’t seem like any other chickens got out. He couldn’t remember how many his partner had anymore. He had no idea how in the world they kept up with chickens, ducks, goats, sheep, cows, and pigs on one farm alone. It made his head spin trying to guess how they kept their head on straight with so much to do.

He set Baja Blast down with a white chicken, Madame Clucks. She went back right to pecking away at the grass.

Harvey set his hands on his hips as he looked around. Even out here, he couldn’t see the farmer. Okay, how he was worried. His hands fidgeted anxiously as he stumbled in his loafers through the soft dirt to the coop door. If they weren’t in here, he’d have to check the other barns. And if they weren’t in the barns, he’d have to call Marnie or Shane, or, Yoba forbid, Marlon at the Adventurer’s Guild, just in case they really had slipped off to the mines without telling him. But what if they weren’t in the mines? He’d have to call- Yoba, who could he call? Everyone? Ask if they’ve seen the farmer around today? It wasn’t even 8am, nobody would be up and about to know if they’d gone through town.

He pushed open the door, a bit harder than he meant to as some chickens lingering inside bawk’d and spooked away, leaving feathers in their wake. He couldn’t even focus on that. His eyes immediately landed on the figure sitting on the chest by the mayonnaise machine. They were hunched over and holding their head.

“Farmer!” Harvey rushed forward, all the old anxiety quickly replaced with a thousand more fears. He knelt down by them and rested a hand on their shoulder, looking at them with wide eyes. From this angle he could see their eyes were closed, face pinched in discomfort. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

They shook their head. “‘M just lightheaded. I bent down to grab the eggs and I got really dizzy.”

He pressed the back of his hand to their forehead, brushing back some hair as he pulled away. “You’re not running a fever.” He let out a hesitant breath of relief. “Do you think you can stand?”

After a moment, they nodded. Harvey stood up and supported them as they stood. They wobbled on their feet, but he wrapped an arm around their waist to steady them.

“Easy now. Let’s get you back inside.”

“What about-”

“Don’t you dare put your farm over your own wellbeing,” he warned. “I can call Shane and see if he’ll take over for the day.”

The farmer sighed, relenting. He knew how much peace they found tending to everything themselves, despite how overwhelming it seemed on the outside. They had a whole process for everything, and they’d explained before just how much of the simpler tasks they’d automated with sprinklers and some of Maru’s machines. Still, he was absolutely not about to let them go right back to work when they can barely stand up without a light breeze threatening to knock them over.

Harvey opened the gate and helped them through, shooing Baja Blast back inside as he shut the gate again. His partner gave an undignified snort at the offended squawk she let out. “At least you feel well enough to laugh.”

“Like I said, Harv, I’m just dizzy.” They leaned heavily into him as he led them along the paths to the cabin. Their feet hung up on uneven stones and the stairs leading to the door more than once.

“Dizziness is a symptom of something else. I just want to make sure it really is nothing serious.”

“I know you do.” They offered him a slight smile, but it quickly soured to a frown as they shut their eyes again with a frown. “Yoba, it feels like the whole world is spinning.”

“We’re almost there.” The line would have been less out of place if this wasn’t their home that they knew as well as they knew the names of all their animals, but they were too out of it to point it out and Harvey was too in his own head to notice it. So they stumbled together through the house to the large two-person bed.

The farmer laid down with a whine, pressing the balls of their hands to their eyes. “How is this worse somehow?” they groaned.

Harvey pressed a comforting hand to their shoulder. “Did you eat breakfast this morning?” They hummed affirmatively with a nod. “When did you get back home last night?”

“Like… 1? 1:40?”

He sighed, scratching his brow with his thumb. That was a conversation for later. “Did you take your meds?”

The silence was deafening. They covered their whole face with their hands with a muffled, “Fuck, I’m stupid.”

“So you didn’t take your iron?”

They shook their head but regretted it immediately after, uncovering their face with a grimace. Their hands plopped pathetically to the bed beside them. “No, I completely forgot. I was trying to run back from the beach after fishing all night - I must have been so tired it just slipped my mind.”

He let out a long sigh. “At least it’s nothing serious. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“‘M sorry, Harvey.”

“It’s…” He frowned at the idea of saying ‘okay’. As a doctor, he really couldn’t brush off not taking prescribed medication, especially with a partner with such a severe case of anemia. He’d protest against them running a farm at all if they weren’t so determined. “We’ll figure out a better system, okay? We can put them in a pill-minder and keep them on your nightstand.”

They nodded. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

That shocked a laugh out of him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to their forehead, his mustache scratching their skin in a familiar way. “Of course - that is my job after all. Now sit tight, I’ll grab your supplements and call Shane. Anything he needs to know about?”

“Just make sure he pets all of the animals. They deserve daily pats.”

“I’ll make sure he knows,” he chuckled fondly as his footsteps began their retreat from the bedroom to the house beyond.

“I love you!”

His warm laugh rang out again, echoed against the wood Robin nailed together and the photos on the walls. “I love you, too!”

[webslingingslasher]

banner made by: @thursdaygxrls

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

CHAPTER ONE: BRUJA

PETER PARKER’S FIRST WEEK.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH 

Steve Jobs is lucky he’s dead. 

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

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

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

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

Friday the 13th? Horror movie character costumes only. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Matt Paul, chapter vice president.” 

“Nick Aaron, secretary.” 

“Ethan Keznek, sergeant-at-arms.” 

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

“Tarrent Bakner, recruitment chairman.” 

“James Hasco, housing officer.” 

“Booker Thomas, membership development.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The brotherhood chanted, “Sig Nu!” 

—------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s ready.

—----------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it matter?” 

Tarrent nods, “fair enough.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m doubling down on burritos.” 

Ethan sucks in a breath, “me too.” 

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

“Jesus fucking christ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter feels everything in him shake with rage. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So sorry!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope you fucking choke.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, that’s how it always starts.” 

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

“Oh. Okay.” 

—------------------------

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

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

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

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

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

‘Blame Paul.’

‘that’d be pauly.’ 

‘Keznek emphasized ‘blame paul.’ 

‘blame me!’ 

‘Fuck you, paul.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, I’m Parker.” 

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

“Hey, I’m Rose.” 

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

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

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

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

God, her smile is fucking raident. 

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

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

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

“I can see it.” 

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

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

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

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

“Lily,” she fills in for him. 

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

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

“Hey, if you were straight would-” 

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

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

—-------------

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

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

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

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

He scoffs as the assaulter mutters out apologies. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Realized you couldn’t win?” 

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

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

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

‘rip charles. never had a chance.’ 

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

‘@paul, Ally’s got a friend? 👀’

‘@parker, lol, yea.’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘🫡’ 

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

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

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

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

‘At least E believes in me.’

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

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

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

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

“Has anyone shown you frat row yet?” 

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

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

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

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

“That’s a personal invite, babe.” 

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

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

“That’s not at all what I-” 

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

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

“You-” 

“Line.”

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

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

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH. 

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

It looked like a home. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Teeny?” He already knew the answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Green or herbal?” 

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

“Green, please.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, cariño. I can’t.” 

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

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

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

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

It was everything Peter needed to hear.

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

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

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

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

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

—--------------------

Spider-Man pats his tummy looking over the skyline. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at us, coupla egg eating guys.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—---------------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Parker!” 

“What’s up, Simpson?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

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

Okay, he might be awful this year. 

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

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

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

“Got it.” 

God bless the woman that ever puts up with that.

—--------------------

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

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

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

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

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

“Aren’t they twins?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ethan shudders, “not sloppy?” 

Peter doubles down, “wet.”

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

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

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

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

“A gallon of literally everything.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, I hit on a lesbian today.” 

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

—-----------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just remembered this movie is in portuguese.” 

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

“Bro, I know! Isn’t it fucking sick?” 

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

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

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

“You guys wanna get pizza?” 

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

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

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

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-------------------

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

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

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

“Wanna sit with Paul?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A grin full of bacon, “maybe.” 

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

“Knew what?” 

“I knew you liked her.” 

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

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

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

—---------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s a witch. No other explanation. 

Peter shakes her from his mind and refocuses. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Any questions?” 

No one raises their hand.

—-----------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Something that needs to happen.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t ever fucking say that to me.” 

“Parker! He’s still threat-” 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” 

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

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

“Cleared.” 

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

“Oh, he needs a fucking rehab.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“What’d you do?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll cry right now, Keznek.” 

—-------------------

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

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

"Yeah, do you know who it is?"

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

“How’d you find out?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t know, nevermind.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Woah, the Ethan Keznek catching feelings?” 

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

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

Why the fuck does he keep thinking about her? 

She’s a fucking witch, she has to be. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------------

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

“Remember when Booker slapped me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s actually disgusting to Peter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s a witch, a real fucking witch. 

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

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

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

“Hello, Peter.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now you’re just lying.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She makes him feel like he could go all night.

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

“Have a goodnight, Peter.” 

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

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

Too bad she’s a witch. 

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

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needs a haircut. 

He should get one before the party. 

He also needs to buy booze. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

—--------------

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

Every dog in the world had gained his sympathy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, he wants her. 

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

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

“Any plans tonight?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—--------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you… Do you not wash your balls?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-------------

Peter’s quiet as he gets ready. 

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

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

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

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

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

At least he took the advice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s more like it, Parker.” 

—----------------

“I think Harvey’s here.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I need water. I’ll die.” 

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

Peter stares at him in horror. 

“It’s awesome, dude.” 

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

“What’s up, you short dicks?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Such good boys.” 

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

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

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good boy.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

—--------------------

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

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

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

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

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

The group chanted as one, “Sig Nu!” 

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

“Booker, Nick, collectors fee.” 

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

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

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

It always circles back to her.

Witch, witch, witch, witch. 

“You’re delusional.” 

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

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

And that’s not who he is. 

So, she has to be a witch. 

Right?

YOUR FIRST WEEK.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH

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

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

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

Five people were at your table. 

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

Sarah Adams, nursing student and never around.

Prince Otto, three years in and major undeclared. 

Natalie Fieldman, roommate your freshman year, art major. 

And Noa Carter, computer science superfreak. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, what the fuck.” 

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

“Double dipping bitch.” 

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

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

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

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

“Prince, please pick a winner this year.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you wanted Peter Parker. 

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

“So sorry!” 

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

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

A sneer, “fucking freshman.” 

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

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

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

—-----------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t think of one. 

—--------------

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

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

Ally’s response was immediate.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Prince is close enough.’ 

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

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

‘Fuck you.’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This message was sent privately. 

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

‘sig nu parker? i dunno, why?’ 

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

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

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

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

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

‘Oh you’re fucking with me, right?’ 

‘... right, Ally?’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This one’s on me, sweetheart.” 

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

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

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

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

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

Smirking, you pull your phone back out. 

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

‘oh. so he flirted with you.’ 

‘Now, why would you even say that?’ 

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

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

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lucky guess, what’s yours?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It would be my honor.” 

—---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—---------------

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

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

“Can confirm, he’s sexy.” 

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

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

“When?!” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” 

“What?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, but that’s actually so true.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Not happening!” 

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

The blonde shrugs, “my knowledge.” 

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—----------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A secret room that no one but chapter officers are allowed to be in. I’ve seen it but I’ve never been inside. I tried one time and Matt told me to leave.” Eesh, if Matt kicked Ally out that means it’s a cardinal rule. “So even if I wanted to, I couldn’t sleep in there?” 

Matt nods, “correct.” Ally leans into her boyfriend and grabs his elbow, he keeps his focus on his phone while she whispers in his ear. Taking some time to look around the dining hall you recognized a few faces, waving at a girl you shared a few classes with last year. 

When you looked up to the upper level, you locked eyes with Peter. You were being sucked in and couldn’t stop. It was like he was telling you to come closer, come talk to him, like he’s inviting you to his table. The chatter in the room fizzled away, time stood still. It felt like your hearts were in sync, it felt like he was looking into you, it felt like you had a crush. 

It felt stupid to think anyone could come close to him. 

Peter wasn’t looking away, instead analyzing you the same way. He wasn’t sneering, he was curious. You never knew brown eyes could be so captivating, you wonder if he knew how dangerous he was. 

Forced to break away when Ally noticed, “who are we looking at?” You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want anyone to know. You stop her from turning, “I thought I saw someone I went to high school with,” you look back up, Peter disappeared. 

“False alarm.” 

-----

It was just you and Spider-Man in your room. 

His plush body laid across your chest, your arms wrapped tight around had flattened him. You spent your day watching Netflix, but after hours it became boring and you switched to scrolling through your phone, hopping between apps before you ended on instagram. 

You clutched Spider-Man tighter when you hit the search tab, his name popping up first. He never used his main account, three posts from the past two years. You found his burner account, it was set to private. You wanted nothing more than to push that request to follow, but he didn’t know you like that just yet. 

The second you were allowed to follow Peter Parker’s finsta, you’d plow through all one hundred and twelve posts, analyzing each one. You chew your lip for a moment and go to Ally’s page, searching through her followers you see his account, you debate on getting her phone and stalk that way, but it feels like cheating. 

It’s eight pm and you think nothing other than frozen yogurt would stop your obsession, so you grabbed your keycard and left Spider-Man to keep your spot warm. 

You had an early class the next day and a party with three people you could talk to, one of them being someone that would forsure be in your bed. If only Peter would have you in his bed first. If you were being honest, you’d love to see Peter fight for you. 

It’s only slightly exhausting being delusional. 

The food hall was dead and you went from mildly hungry to starving the second you smelled food, detoring for a quick sandwich you stuffed it in your bag before crossing the floor for your sweet treat. A prickle on the back of your neck told you to look to your left, at a table with his brothers, was Peter Parker. 

It felt like a gravitational pull, you manifested him being in your life since last year and it’s finally happening. The next time you and Prince go out you’re pulling him into a psychic’s shop for a reading. You were caught by who you think was Tarrent, if you remember correctly, he hooked up with Natalie your freshman year. 

Blue eyes met yours, just the smallest hint of a smile. It sent you turning your head and stepping behind the bathroom wall for a breather, hiding in embarrassment. You counted to thirty before peeking your head from around the corner, Tarrent kept your secret, no one was looking at you. 

This time, watching yourself, you don’t bump into anyone in line for frozen yogurt. You’d hate for another lesson in spatial awareness, unless it’s coming from Peter, in that case you’d take any kind of conversation. 

Even when he’s berating you he’s pretty. 

Leaving with your cup of dessert you watch Peter walk right by you, hearing his mumbles of a Beastie Boys song. You couldn’t help yourself, a chance at hello. It was an opportunity to have a normal conversation, maybe more of his shining character would come through. Taking a seat at a hightop near the bathrooms you wait until your target comes out. 

Humming at the taste of sugar hitting your tongue you look over to his table, you notice Ethan and you hope he doesn’t notice you too. To put it bluntly, you didn’t want Peter thinking he had competition. You don’t even consider Harvey Guyn as competition, he was just a good fuck. He didn’t get dinner with you or take you on dates, and you didn’t want that. At least not from him. 

Harvey’s conversations were dry and always built around impressing the people around him. He had great successes for someone his age, but daddy’s money didn’t impress you much.

You sit straighter when you hear the bathroom door open, listening to Peter mumble rap a chorus you jumped in, “another girl, another fight.” He jumped slightly, surprised to see you sitting right next to him. Taking another bite you stare in his eyes while you wrap your tongue around the spoon, Peter sounds breathless when he speaks. 

“Hey.” 

“Hello, Peter.” 

The look on his face told you if he didn’t notice you before, he did now. Did you just stand out from the crowd with one word? You think so. Peter clears his throat lightly, “and you are…” he wants you to fill in the blank, you find some joy in being mysterious, even if it’s just for another night. You pluck your spoon from your mouth, a wide smirk paints on your lips. 

“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” It mildly annoyed him and it made your stomach tug, something about his expression made you happy to bother him. Until he called your bluff, you might have planned this one interaction but everywhere else he just seems to notice you. You’ve always had a wandering eye for him but he’s just now catching on. 

Giving him a scouts honor, you promise you haven’t been following him, because you haven’t. It’s that universal pull, each time you’re around him it’s like you’re tasting air while also being breathless. He’s pretty, too pretty for his own good. 

Peter’s tempting even when he’s slightly misogynistic, you think he likes your attitude. If there’s one thing you learned, it’s that a man likes it when he has to do a little chasing. You have an early class and Spider-Man at home. 

Sliding from your seat, your shoes squeak on the linoleum. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” Dare you boldly claim he looked a little disappointed? It seemed like he was. You wish him a goodnight and he returns it, you can’t stop your satisfied smile when you feel him watching you leave. 

Quickly stomping up the stairs you look back at Peter’s table, you escaped with only one person looking back at you. Tarrent shoots you a wink, it wasn’t one that was directed at you, but directed at your actions. He knows nothing of you but you have his support, it makes you curious at best, cautious at worst. You stare at the floor until you reach the door, pushing out and taking in the fresh air. 

It didn’t feel as refreshing as when you were with Peter. You shrug it off, you already had someone waiting back at home. 

Spider-Man’s just as dependent on you as you are him.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH

Morning classes sucked because they were in the morning. Morning classes were awesome because you felt like you focused better, and there was a better student to teacher ratio. Ally whined when your alarm went off, you stood with her in solidarity, because fuck waking up to a slow steady build of music. 

“Sorry, roomie.” 

Her hand poked from a blanket, waving you off from across the room. You weren’t sure if it was in annoyance or understanding. She had another hour before her class and she was planning to crush thirty of those minutes by hitting snooze. 

You moved quickly and quietly, only packing what was needed, and opting for an oversized university hoodie sans your bra. You believed in one thing, casual friday; and you honor it every week. Silently shutting your dorm door you cruise down the hallway, taking in the deep silence and empty scene. 

You weren’t a morning person at all, you preferred to wake up slowly and on your own terms, most times hitting snooze way too many times. But you loved the slow calm of the morning, watching the sun fully rise, hearing birds scream the earth awake, feeling empathy for every person with tired, puffy eyes. 

Morning’s were gentle, and sometimes you really enjoyed gentle. Friday was your creative writing class and you think it’ll be your favorite for the next year. 

Your hypothesis proved true because your professor was the hottest silver fox you’ve ever seen. Every fantasy of being bent over your teachers desk was racing through your mind, you didn’t know how you could ever pay attention. 

When he talks, his words curl around your ears, a stubble buzz in your stomach makes you focus in on his lips, watching them pout around ‘S’s. “Hey,” she was late, but Noa was there. “Hey,” you whisper back. 

Her smirk is devilish, “talk to Trent yet?” It’d be a punishment until you finished your plan, then she’d let it die. It’s something to do with making her efforts worth it, and making you owe her a favor. You almost regret asking her, but the payoff is worth the narcissism. 

Since freshman year, you, Ally, Prince and Natalie made a bet on one person rushing to make it into full recruitment. Sarah joined last year but backed out this year, she’d be too busy in her nursing classes, she made it pretty clear she’d be absent this year. 

When it started everyone pitched in a hundred bucks, Natalie won. Last year everyone pitched in five hundred, Ally won. You love your friends, but it left a sour taste in your mouth that people who didn’t need the extra pocket money won. 

You weren’t lying when you had a summer job, but it was quickly drained with class and book payments. None of your friends had to worry about that. So, when you found out that your high school friend's ex-boyfriend's little brother was rushing for Sigma Nu, a plan formed. 

You upped the stakes this year, big time. Tripling the honey pot by three, fifteen hundred each. That was half of your summer job money, but the payoff was worth the temporary loss. You had an in at the frat and you knew how much the competition games meant, being number one fraternity was the most important thing for Sig Nu, especially after losing it last year to Alpha Delta. 

Next step was getting someone to secure the information, enter Noa. She had cracked into every frat on campus and gotten the files, printed them out and completed the job with a pretty folder. It was Noa’s idea to get dirt on Trent, you commended her for her smarts, she claimed she just really hated him. 

The real plan was making sure your pledge made it in and no other friends won so you wouldn’t have to share the honey pot. It was skeevy and made you feel slightly dirty, but sometimes you have to play in the mud so you can eat dinner for the year. 

As long as no one found out, you’d be okay. Although, deep in your heart you know that while your friends would feel betrayed at first, they’d understand and come around. Mostly because Matt would use some christian wisdom on them and smite them into forgiveness. 

“Tonight.” Noa nods, “you impress me, friend. You really, really do.” You give a nervous smile at your new professor when he calls you out for talking, with his wise smirk, you believe Peter Parker may have some competition. 

—----------------

At fifteen past four, you got the message you’ve been waiting on, you bit your lip and opened the text, the contact saved as Harvey G. 

‘You’re coming to the party tonight, right?’ 

‘Just for you 😊’ 

‘I love when you lie to me, it really gets me going.’ 

‘You know what gets me going? Fucking you on a twin XL.’ 

‘Dirty talk, that’s my girl.’ 

‘Wear something pretty for me and I’ll let you call me daddy tonight.’ 

‘You wish.’ 

You’d be wearing something pretty tonight, but not for Harvey. You were dressing up for the pure intention of catching Peter Parker’s eye. It was a personal mission to turn you from a backup plan to number one, worse comes to worse, you’d pull out the best friend card and use Ethan as a pawn. Harvey was a set hookup, you didn’t need to impress him with anything. You’ve never even slept in the same bed, and you didn’t care to. He looked like a snorer. 

Sending a quick text to Ally to try and figure out the game plan, she responds with a very general answer, so you text Prince to come over and entertain you. He responded with a salute emoji, ‘prepare to be entertained.’ 

—--------

You and Prince are tilting your head at the same angle, you’re trying to make sense of what you were seeing but the proportions weren’t adding up. It didn’t seem natural, you block out the exaggerated moaning and follow in tilting your head the opposite way when the camera switches positions. 

“I mean… that couldn’t… feel good… right?” Prince is looking for your opinion, you nod with him. “Yeah, I don’t… this can’t be real, right?” It’s like you've been heard, the camera angle changes and you’re staring at a man’s asshole as he piledrives into his female co-star. Prince gasps with you, “oh my god! How is she doing that?!” You whistle low, “drugs, Prince. Lots and lots of drugs.” Suddenly, Prince becomes interested. 

“You know, sometimes I forget how much the female body amazes me.” You narrow your eyes, “call me a female again, I dare you.” Prince’s voice squeaks, “no thank you, you powerful, beautiful woman.” You pat his green hair, “good boy.” 

For once, Ally entered into your dorm without Matt following behind. Prince clapped and told her he was proud she could walk inside all by herself. Her response was, “aw, you’re so cute when you’re lonely.” Prince pretended to bite her.

“So,” Ally opened her tote bag and pulled out a paper bag filled with Sammi’s Sandwiches. “Wanna eat and get ready?” Prince starts bowing, you follow suit.

 “All hail queen Ally.” 

“Damn right, bitches.” 

The second you took your last bite Ally had you in front of your closet mirror while she stood behind you with two shirts on hangers, alternating to hold up each one over your torso. 

“Ugh, I wanted you in the green but I think the black would be better.” “Yeah, I think if I hang around Prince it’ll be too much green, ya know?” Prince coughed and breadcrumbs spewed. “I’m sorry, you think you’ll be hanging out with me instead of Harvey?” 

“I can’t exactly go in there, grab him, and get out, can I?” Your roommate nods while she fixes your hair, “you absolutely can, I do it with Matty all the time.” You roll your eyes at her in the mirror, “that’s different, you guys are like… common law married at this point.” 

Prince is sitting sideways in a chair letting the blood rush to his head, he sits up slightly and slips out a possibility while you adjust your bra strap. “What are the chances Harvey gets so plastered tonight you won’t hookup?” 

The elastic snaps on your shoulder when you give him a cold glare, “don’t even try to be funny.” He grins wickedly and presses his thumbs to his middle fingers, “not funny, babe. Manifesting.” 

Ally has to hold you back when you lurch at him. 

—--------------

You’re lucky you have Prince to keep Ally occupied, you’re a little too lost in your thoughts as you all walk towards frat row. Keeping your arms to your chest you conserve heat, it’s starting to get chilly at night. The first thing you wanted to do was get Trent out of the way, then you’d chat with Ethan while you scope the scene for Peter. Oh god, Harvey. You had too many men to entertain tonight, it would be near impossible to keep them from bumping into each other outside your revolving door. 

You just had to play calm and make a game plan. Number one would be Trent, number two would be Harvey, so you could make plans for after the party, number three would be Ethan and certainly not least, you’d be keeping an eye on Peter Parker. Your palms feel clammy thinking about your secret with Trent, you push each plan back by one. The first step would be getting some liquid courage. Brought back to life by gentle bantering, your opinion is needed. 

“I could totally ice Matt out, right?” 

“Bro, I have two hundred on it right now.” 

“You think I can’t live without him?” You butt in, “no, but you can’t let him think you’re mad at him. Even when you’re fighting you tell him you’re not mad at him. It’s gross.” Prince nods while Ally gasps in offense, “I’d love to see it, I think he’d have a mental breakdown.” 

“Is it so terrible of me that I don’t like making my boyfriend sad?” 

You hang an arm around Ally’s neck and pull her in, “it makes you a better girlfriend than I could ever be.” She giggles and hangs onto you, “I think frat boys like that, maybe it’s time you start sleeping with a member and not alumni.” 

You’re not hiding anything out of spite, but because you felt like you wanted to figure it out on your own. And she’s a little pushy, if you were to spill on Peter before ready she’d try everything possible to get Matt involved. Sometimes Ally’s wingmanning ruined potential hookups, and by sometimes, it’s every time. “Ha. Good one.” 

Prince steps in to hand his arm around your neck, you three of you stumbling in unison. “Don’t worry, friend. You’ll have your pick on the ski trip.” You flashed a smile, following a crowd of bodies across the crosswalk.

Letting each other go when you hit the first frat house you fix your shirt. Ally was right, it looked really good on you.

There were at least forty kids waiting to get in, only two members on door duty. Following freshmen up the steps you smile at a brother, Prince pays his entrance fee while you hold hands with Ally. 

You take a deep breath, and release it when you step in the house.

Welcome to the start of the year.

[thedensworld]

Rewind Button | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: angst, time travel, bestfriend

Summary: If Wonwoo had a time machine, he would definitely go to crash your wedding.

Warning: mention of arranged marriage, sexual abused, suicidal activity, depression.

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY! COMMENT YOUR WISH FOR ME HEHE🙈🙈

***

Wonwoo stirred from his sleep, disoriented and bewildered by his unfamiliar surroundings. He glanced around, his eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains of his old apartment studio. Confusion clouded his mind as he realized he should be gearing up for an action scene shoot in just ten minutes, yet here he was, inexplicably back in his past.

Memories flooded back as he recalled the sensation of being in his car, the soft melodies of music playing in the background. But why was he here now?

Before he could fully process his confusion, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the silence, jolting him from his thoughts. With trembling hands, he reached for the device, his heart pounding with trepidation as he saw the caller ID: Mingyu.

It had been nearly five years since they last spoke, and the sudden call from his old friend only added to the surrealness of the moment. Wonwoo's mind raced with questions, his emotions a turbulent whirlwind as he hesitated before answering, unsure of what awaited him on the other end of the line.

"Hello," Wonwoo's hoarse voice greeted Mingyu, his mind still reeling from the surreal experience of being transported back in time.

A rush of urgency flooded through the phone line, Mingyu's voice filled with frantic energy. "Hyung! Where are you?! The ceremony will start in 2 hours!"

Wonwoo blinked in disbelief as memories of this very conversation, this same heated exchange with Mingyu, flooded his mind. It was a moment from the past, long gone, yet here he was, reliving it once again. Why was he experiencing this déjà vu?

"Hold on, Mingyu," Wonwoo managed to utter, struggling to process the situation unfolding before him.

"Hyung! Are you listening to me?" Mingyu's voice cut through Wonwoo's thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment.

"I'll be there," Wonwoo murmured softly before ending the call, his mind swirling with confusion and disbelief. As he hung up, a sense of unease settled over him, leaving him grappling with the inexplicable phenomenon that had just occurred.

As Wonwoo's mind raced, replaying the moments leading up to his unexpected reunion with you, his heart pounded with a mixture of apprehension and longing. He wasn't accustomed to making requests or wishing for things, always content to be the grateful, considerate person others admired. But tonight, as he lay in bed, his silent plea had been answered, thrusting him into a whirlwind of emotions.

Meeting you again after five long years, on the set of his latest film where you were cast as a cameo, had ignited a torrent of memories and regrets within him. The scene played out in his mind like a haunting film, your presence stirring feelings he had buried deep within himself.

As you both discussed the upcoming scene, the unspoken tension between you hung heavy in the air, overshadowing the easy camaraderie you once shared. Wonwoo couldn't help but notice the bruises hidden beneath your hair and sleeves, a stark contrast to the vibrant spirit he remembered from your past encounters.

When he finally mustered the courage to approach you in private, your first question pierced through his defenses like a dagger to the heart. "Why didn't you come to my wedding?" you asked, your voice calm but laden with disappointment.

Wonwoo was rendered speechless, his throat constricting with guilt and regret. He had never prepared himself for this moment, never anticipated facing you again under such circumstances.

"I read your letter, and I was so disappointed you didn't come," you continued, mentioning the drunken confession he had penned before your wedding day, a stupid letter.

"Mingyu too, he felt the same about our friendship," you added, invoking the name of their mutual friend.

Unable to meet your gaze, Wonwoo could only mutter a feeble apology, his fingers fidgeting nervously.

But when you rolled up your sleeves, revealing the bruises marring your skin, his heart shattered into a million pieces. He longed to reach out, to offer comfort and solace, but fear held him back, afraid that even the slightest touch would break you further.

"Did Mingyu know about this?" Wonwoo finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded solemnly, confirming his worst fears. "But he couldn't do anything," you confessed, your words heavy with resignation.

Silence enveloped them both as Wonwoo struggled to process the weight of your words, the guilt and helplessness threatening to suffocate him.

"I was waiting for you," you whispered, the memory of your wedding day haunting your expression. "Since you promised."

Your laughter, tinged with bitterness, echoed in the cramped confines of the van, and Wonwoo felt his heart shatter all over again. "But you never came."

*

Wonwoo, dressed in his usual attire, rushed to the venue of your wedding ceremony, his mind spinning with confusion and urgency. Was this all just a dream, or had he truly been thrown back in time as he had desperately wished for earlier?

Mingyu's surprise was evident as he greeted Wonwoo, his eyes scanning his friend's unconventional choice of outfit – a black hoodie and baggy faded denim pants. Wonwoo's appearance, fresh only from a quick face wash, stood in stark contrast to the formal attire expected for such an occasion.

"Why are you dressed like this? Today is a special day!" Mingyu exclaimed, his concern evident in his voice as he pulled Wonwoo aside, shielding him from prying eyes.

Wonwoo blinked rapidly, unsure of how to explain his sudden appearance and disheveled state. If he were to tell Mingyu the truth – that he had traveled from the future to prevent you from suffering in an abusive marriage – he knew his friend would dismiss it as absurd.

"I need to meet Y/n," Wonwoo replied impatiently, his sense of urgency overriding any concern for social norms or propriety.

Mingyu furrowed his brows, his hand resting reassuringly on Wonwoo's shoulder. "We talked about this, man. You said you'd give up on her."

Wonwoo's heart clenched at the memory of his previous conversation with Mingyu, where he had resigned himself to letting you go. "Yeah, I know," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

"But I changed my mind. I can't let her go," Wonwoo confessed, his determination shining through despite the obstacles ahead.

Mingyu sighed, realizing the gravity of Wonwoo's intentions. "Isn't it too late? You know her husband is someone with power," he cautioned, his concern for both Wonwoo and you evident in his words.

"I promised her that I'd come today, help her cancel the wedding," Wonwoo explained earnestly, his gaze unwavering as he met Mingyu's widened eyes.

"No way! You know what would happen to both of you," Mingyu protested vehemently, his concern for their reputations and public image overriding any sense of recklessness.

Wonwoo took a deep breath, steeling himself before dropping a bombshell on Kim Mingyu. "She's pregnant with mine," he stated firmly, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

Mingyu gasped in disbelief, his eyes widening in shock. "What?!" he exclaimed, unable to comprehend the gravity of Wonwoo's revelation.

Wonwoo nodded, his expression solemn as he tried to convey the truth of his words to Mingyu. "I'll explain everything later, but right now, I need to meet her," he insisted, his voice tinged with urgency and determination.

As the weight of Wonwoo's revelation sank in, Mingyu could only nod in reluctant understanding, realizing that his friend's resolve was unshakeable. Together, they stood on the precipice of a decision that could change the course of your lives forever.

*

"When he found out i was pregnant with other man, he practically almost murdering me everyday. He made sure that i was suffering and i ended up losing the baby. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you poured out the painful truth, revealing for the first time to Wonwoo that you had been carrying his child. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, each syllable laden with the agony of your suffering.

Wonwoo held you tightly in his embrace, his heart breaking as he realized the extent of your torment. Guilt gnawed at him relentlessly, a relentless onslaught of remorse for his past actions. He closed his eyes, unable to bear the weight of his cowardice – the cowardice that had cost him your love and the life of his own child.

In that moment, he saw himself for what he truly was: a coward who had let fear dictate his every move. He had been too afraid to pursue a relationship with you, convinced that you were too perfect, too good for someone like him. And in his cowardice, he had stood by while you suffered unimaginable horrors at the hands of your husband.

As you spoke of the threats and abuse you endured, Wonwoo's heart shattered into a million pieces. The thought of you enduring such torment while he remained silent filled him with a profound sense of shame and regret.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I should have protected you. I should have been there for you."

But your confession only deepened his anguish, as you revealed the depths of your despair. "But I'm so tired," you admitted, your voice trembling with exhaustion. "Every day feels like hell, and I just want to die."

Wonwoo's heart clenched at your words, the pain in your voice echoing the turmoil in his soul. He vowed in that moment to do whatever it took to save you, to break free from the shackles of his own cowardice and finally stand by your side. For he knew now, more than ever, that he could not bear to lose you again.

A week later, news of your attempted suicide rocked Wonwoo to his core. As he stood in the hospital corridor, waiting anxiously for any update on your condition, the weight of his guilt threatened to crush him. The letter found at the scene revealed the depths of your suffering, documenting the abuse you endured at the hands of your husband.

Finally, after five long years, Wonwoo came face to face with Mingyu in the hospital aisle. Mingyu's eyes held a silent accusation, and Wonwoo couldn't bring himself to meet his friend's gaze. He bowed his head in shame, unable to deny the wrongs he had committed.

But to Wonwoo's surprise, Mingyu's arms enveloped him in a tight embrace, his own tears mingling with Wonwoo's. "Hyung... She'll be alright, right?" Mingyu choked out between sobs, his voice thick with worry and fear.

Wonwoo wished desperately that he could offer Mingyu reassurance, to tell him that you would indeed be alright. But the truth weighed heavily on his conscience, threatening to suffocate him. He longed to confess that everything that had transpired was just a dream, that you were safe and alive, and that you belonged to him. But his fear held him back, sealing his lips shut once again.

As the situation began to calm, Mingyu turned to Wonwoo, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Did she tell you?" he asked, his voice tinged with resignation.

Wonwoo nodded silently, his heart heavy with remorse.

Mingyu sighed, his gaze drifting towards the room where you were being tended to by medical staff. "I just hope that asshole didn't use his money to free himself," he growled in anger, his fists clenched in frustration at the thought of your abusive husband escaping justice.

"For these five years, she's suffered a lot," Mingyu continued, his voice tinged with sorrow. "I want to help her, but there's nothing I can do besides offering emotional support."

He paused, his expression pained as he revealed the truth behind your intentions to reconnect with Wonwoo. "She told me that she was going to meet you for a shoot. She actually just wanted to be friends again. There was no intention of telling you the whole situation. But I forced her."

Mingyu's words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of Wonwoo's actions and the pain he had caused. As he listened to his friend's words, Wonwoo felt a surge of remorse wash over him, knowing that he had hurt not only you but also those who cared for you deeply.

*

Mingyu accompanied Wonwoo as they approached your room, his hand gesturing for Wonwoo to enter and have a conversation with you. Wonwoo, visibly nervous, stepped into the room, scanning the space until his eyes fell upon you sitting on the couch. However, instead of your usual charm and charisma, he noticed a subdued air about you. Nevertheless, your face lit up when you saw him, and you rose from your seat.

As Wonwoo rushed towards you, pulling you into his embrace, you felt a mix of surprise and comfort flood through you. "Let's take you out of here," he whispered urgently, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.

Your eyes widened, a hint of fear flickering across them. "But I can't," you protested, your voice trembling. "He's not just a random person, Wonwoo! He would sue us."

Wonwoo shook his head, determination etched into his features. "We confront him," he insisted, his voice firm yet reassuring. "And tell him the truth." His words carried a sense of resolve, offering you a glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty.

Tears welled up in your eyes, reflecting the turmoil within you. "But what about our careers?" you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "We're going to be doomed after this... Think about yourself, Wonwoo!" You pleaded, trying to shake him out of his determination.

Wonwoo held your shoulders firmly, his gaze unwavering. "In another universe, I was selfish," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "But I ended up losing our friendship, losing Mingyu. I ended up losing you..." His words hung heavy in the air, carrying the weight of past mistakes and missed opportunities.

Confusion furrowed your brow as you searched his eyes for understanding. "What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Wonwoo's grip on your arm tightened, his resolve unyielding. "We don't have much time," he urged, his voice urgent. "Let's go to the groom."

Quickly, Wonwoo waited for you to change into comfortable clothes, both of you donning masks and hats to conceal your identities. With Mingyu's help, you found the groom, who was engrossed in conversation with guests. Mingyu motioned for both Wonwoo and you to retreat to a private area before confronting him.

The groom's surprise was evident as he laid eyes on you standing outside your room without your bridal gown. Before he could react, Mingyu and Wonwoo restrained him. Wonwoo realized the groom had no control over himself; he wasn't your husband yet.

"Let's stop the wedding," Wonwoo declared, his voice firm as he initiated the discussion. The furrowed expression on the groom's face spoke volumes about his response.

But before he could utter a word, Wonwoo dropped the bombshell. "She's pregnant with my child. We've been having an affair even before you entered the picture." The groom's composure shattered, his anger palpable.

"What does it mean, Y/n? We discussed this already."

As the groom moved towards you, Wonwoo and Mingyu intervened, shielding you from harm. Wonwoo signaled for Mingyu to escort you to his car while he dealt with the groom.

With an imposing presence, Wonwoo approached the groom, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the groom's agitation. "Y/n will pass away five years from now," Wonwoo revealed, his words laced with a solemn warning. "And you'll be behind bars for abusing and murdering her. I know your violent tendencies with women, so don't come near us unless you want the media to know."

Enraged, the groom grabbed Wonwoo's clothes, but Wonwoo effortlessly freed himself, straightening his attire. "I'm from the future," he declared, his voice steady. "We could stand here all day discussing your future, but let's prevent it by canceling this wedding."

*

Dear Yoon Y/n,

It's your friend, Jeon Wonwoo. I want to start by apologizing for my absence after that night. I couldn't bring myself to face you because everything changed between us. I no longer saw you as just a friend.

To be honest, it's been a long time since I've seen you that way. You've become more than a friend to me; you're a woman. I confided my feelings for you to Mingyu, and when I admitted I liked you, he punched me. Yet, he confessed he saw it coming.

For a fleeting moment after that night in your apartment, I was happy. I knew we were both intoxicated, but I didn't regret a thing. Yet, I couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether you felt the same way about me. Did you feel the same love as I did for you?

Today, I received your wedding invitation, and I couldn't muster the courage to confront you in person about how much I love you. Mingyu mentioned it was an arranged marriage, which gave me a sliver of hope that you might not love him. But at the end of the day, he'll be the one who owns you, right?

I want to be him. I want to be him so badly. If I were to attend your wedding and ask for your love, would you want to run away with me?

If your answer is yes, then I promise to be there.

With all my love,

Wonwoo

*

Wonwoo sat beside Mingyu, the weight of grief heavy in the air after attending your funeral. Mingyu handed him a book, your diary, a crucial piece of evidence detailing the abuse you suffered at the hands of your husband. Wonwoo's fingers traced over the cover, feeling the weight of your words within.

As he flipped through the pages, his heart clenched at the entry describing the morning of your wedding day, when you discovered your pregnancy. "She must have been waiting for me," Wonwoo thought, his throat tight with emotion.

Each word in your diary painted a vivid picture of your pain and suffering. Wonwoo read with tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling every pang in his chest as he absorbed the honesty and rawness of your emotions.

The diary was a testament to the strength you had to endure such torment, and Wonwoo couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a mixture of sadness, anger, and admiration for you. It was a journey through your deepest struggles, and Wonwoo vowed silently to ensure that justice would be served for you, no matter the cost.

"Gyungmo raped me that night. He wanted to kill my baby." Wonwoo closed the book, barely able to continue it.

Anger, guilt, and regret crashed over Wonwoo like a relentless tsunami. Jung Gyungmo, the source of your suffering, must pay for his atrocities, Wonwoo thought, his fists clenched with fury.

"We hadn't spoken for months after her wedding," Wonwoo recounted to Mingyu, his voice heavy with remorse. "But she called me in the dead of night, desperate for help. Her husband was nowhere to be found when I arrived. She was barely holding on, her body weak, blood staining her legs."

Mingyu turned to face Wonwoo, his expression mirroring the sorrow etched in his friend's features. "She was five months pregnant, enduring unimaginable stress and abuse," Mingyu explained, his voice cracking with emotion. "And she lost your... your baby."

Wonwoo's heart shattered into a million pieces as the weight of your pain crashed down upon him. The realization that he could have done more, should have been there for you, gnawed at his soul like a relentless beast. The guilt and anguish threatened to consume him whole as he grappled with the cruel reality of your suffering.

Mingyu's voice trembled as he struggled to continue speaking, the weight of your absence crushing his heart freshly from your recent funeral. Tears streamed down his cheeks uncontrollably, his grief pouring out in waves. Despite his own pain, he reached out to Wonwoo, his arms wrapping around his best friend in a tight embrace, seeking solace in their shared sorrow.

"It's not your fault," Mingyu whispered, trying to offer some comfort amidst the overwhelming anguish.

But Wonwoo's voice quivered with guilt as he choked out his words, his tears mingling with Mingyu's. "This is my fault!"

Mingyu shook his head vigorously, refusing to let Wonwoo bear the burden alone. "No, hyung," he insisted, his own anguish evident in his voice.

"If only I had intervened at her wedding, if only I had stopped everything, she would still be with us! She wouldn't—" Wonwoo's words dissolved into sobs, his pain too raw to articulate.

Mingyu nodded in solemn agreement, his own grief consuming him. "Me too, hyung," he confessed, his voice thick with sorrow.

"If only I could turn back time, I would stop the wedding in a heartbeat."

If only...

The words hung heavy in the air, a bitter reminder of the irreversible tragedy that had befallen them all.

[melthehoneybee]

A God’s Best Friend

First of all, I’m not a writer so be kind 🥲

I decided to finally write a Hades fanfic based on a little story I’ve had in my head for years now.

This is a Hades x Reader fic centered around an adult aged reader who works in an Auradon animal shelter when the God of Death walks in looking for a new pal.

This is completely SFW and has no warnings. I hope you guys like it! I may continue it in the future depending on if it’s well received. Enjoy!!!

Another night stuck alone at the shelter, counting away the minutes while listening to the chatter of all the rescues in the back of the building.

Of course you loved helping the stray animals of Auradon, but this place is not your passion.

Your parents were just one of the many royals with a whirlwind, magical romance back in their younger days. Your father was a dashing prince and your mother was a lonely princess who animals flocked to when she sang. Once the king founded Auradon they gave up their titles to help the animals without homes find a place of comfort, adopting them out to loving families. Eventually you came along and they forced you in to the dream they had created, letting you work in the shelter once you were old enough. The years have flown by and, despite being a full grown adult, you are still stuck here’s

All was quiet, peaceful, and fully predictable.

Until the barrier dropped.

Most of the kingdom were on board with the decision made by Queen Mal and King Ben. The children over on that island deserved a fair chance at life, despite the decisions their parents made. It was an event that carried plenty of promise, but it wasn’t without its hitches.

Of course most of the Isle children needed to adjust to their new normal, but they had the youth of Auradon to help them. The problem were the adults on both sides. Plenty of villains were set free and all of the adults of Auradon still held on to their fears and anxieties of the past.

Your parents are no different. They are able to accept some of the villains have changed during their imprisonment without magic on that rotten spit of land. However, they were still plenty wary of the handful of the more powerful antagonists, none more so than Cruella De Vil.

It goes without saying, but running an animal shelter with that mad villain on the loose caused your parents to increase the scrutiny of the process of adopting pets.

Before the barrier dropped, they would allow most anyone to adopt simply by paying a small fee and signing a couple of papers. Now they demand to verify the person has no connection to Cruella and they require an inspection of the home the animal will be going to both before adoption and a couple of weeks after adoption.

So far, there have been no issues with the process. There was an influx of adoptions now that the people of the Isle could own pets, most seeking a fresh start with a new companion. All of the homes you and your parents have inspected were suitable to take care of whatever they may be adopting and there have been zero signs of Cruella intending on starting up her fur habits again.

You liked to think her kid Carlos maybe got through to her with his love of animals.

After a couple months of the barrier being down, the rush of adoptions began to slow and life returned to a steady pace of one or two adoptions a week.

The seasons were changing and the days were getting shorter, meaning you would be put in charge of the closing shifts. You often locked up and left well after the sun went down. Very few, if any, customers show up when night arrives. However your parents insist that at least one of the family members are present as often as possible to keep the animals company.

You sigh, tapping your pen on the desk and resting your head in your hand in boredom. Your mind drifted to your own dreams, wishing you weren’t tethered to this place and hoping to have a taste of freedom to explore your passions in the future.

Instead here you are, the clock loudly ticking away the minutes, broken up by the bark or meow of a rescue in the large kennel room behind you.

It’s been days since the last adoption, only a few people coming in to visit the animals and look around to break up the monotony.

You glance up at the frosted glass doors of the entrance to see a tall figure silhouetted in the glass. You sit up and put on your best “I’m ready to help” pose.

The silhouette reached for the handle and popped open the door, the bell attached to it tinkling with a friendly chime. In walks Hades, the villainous god of the Underworld.

Your smile immediately fades and becomes forced to avoid showing fear, looking closer to a grimace.

Sure you’ve helped plenty of VKs but this is the first VILLAIN to walk in to this building.

First he glances up at the tiny bell signaling his arrival then looks around, clearly uncomfortable with the bright surroundings. Finally he locks his eyes with yours. Your heart skips a beat and adrenaline causes a dull roar in your ears, flooding your face with a slight shade of red.

“Is this the place to get a dog?” He asks, his voice firm.

You sit there a moment, your mouth open in slight surprise and your brain trying to process how to handle this. You’re here alone and no one would be close enough to get to the shelter in time if you called for help.

He stands there, his hands finally softly shrugging out in confusion at the lack of answer.

You finally stutter out “A-ah yes this is the local animal rescue.”

He steps forward, his heavy boots sounding extremely alien to your ears “Ok, and you have dogs?”

All you can think to do is follow the script you had been taught to go through “If you’re looking for a dog, we are required to ask if you have or will have any connection to the villain known as Cruella De Vil.”

Your heart is pounding and you shrink a bit when he curls a lip up and narrows his dark eyes.

“Do you Auradonians just think all villains know each other or something? No, I don’t associate with Dog-Nappers.” He growls, rolling his eyes.

Your face turns red in embarrassment “S-sorry I just… it’s something we ask everyone now…”

An awkward silence fills the air and you can’t believe you break it with the question of “What sort of dog are you looking for?”

“I’m not sure yet, I used to have one before the barrier and now I’m looking for a new one.” He says with an air of exasperation, looking around the friendly lobby area.

“We… don’t have any with three heads if that’s what you’re looking for.” Comes out of your mouth before you can stop it. You scream inside your mind, wondering why you keep making presumptuous statements to the literal god of death.

He raises a brow in confusion “I didn’t say I was in the market for one of those did I?” He pauses and shifts a bit “So you already know who I am then?”

All you can do is feebly nod.

He sighs and puts his hands in his pockets “So I take it I’m not welcome then. Fine.” He spins on his heel and steps for the door.

You aren’t sure if it’s shame, embarrassment, or something else entirely, but you launch up from your chair and call after him.

“No no, wait… s-sorry… you are welcome to look at our dogs if you’d like. Everyone is welcome here.”

He turns and glances back “Everyone except Cruella.” He says sarcastically.

“W-well yeah… everyone but her for obvious reasons… we don’t want to risk the safety of our animals.”

He turns and crosses his arms “You don’t see me as a threat to your animals then?”

“So far so good.” You say nervously.

He accepts this answer and walks back to the desk, resting his leather clad hand on it.

“Alright, show me the dogs then.”

Every fiber of your being is screaming not to go further into the shelter with this intimidating figure, but your instincts of doing your job have kicked in and seem to be carrying you along on autopilot.

“Of course, right this way.”

You push open the small door to the side of your desk so he can walk around and join you. You sort of awkwardly shuffle backwards to the door that leads to the kennels, not particularly comfortable with turning your back to this man yet.

“Listen I’ve got basically 20 years of catching up to do on my work. I’m not going to add more to my plate by sending you to the Underworld. Especially when I don’t know you.” He sighs, clearly annoyed at the guard you have up.

You stammer a shaky apology and open the door for him.

“It’s alright. I get it.” He says, a bit less anger in his voice. He walks past, the smell of leather and some sort of cologne following behind him. You look him up and down, your eyes particularly interested in his tall, blue hair. You had always heard Hades had a head of hair made of fire. It certainly seemed to reach skyward in a wavy stance like flames, but it seemed like entirely normal hair to you.

You follow in behind him, the kennels suddenly eerily quiet. All of the animals have stopped chattering and are now pushed to the backs of their kennels, clearly terrified of the dark figure before them.

He stays silent, his hands in his pockets, and his eyes flicker a brief emotion. Disappointment maybe?

He slowly walks down the line of kennels, glancing back and forth at all of the animals who cowered away from him. They all clearly sensed that he was an ancient soul with the task of manning a place like the underworld. You always knew animals had a weird sense when it came to this stuff, but to see it so clearly in action made you shiver.

Despite how this should reaffirm some sort of discomfort with him, watching his reaction actually lowered your walls a bit. The man seemed to sink lower into himself, clearly hurt by the fear of all the animals.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea….” He finally sighs, stopping in the middle of the kennels.

You look around, silent and feeling a strange sense of pity for the villain.

Suddenly you’re hit with an epiphany. Your instincts kick in again.

“No hold on. Follow me down this way.” You stride forward with focus now, not fearing putting this man behind you.

You hear his heavy steps follow you as you lead him to the back of long line of cowering animals.

It’s a long shot but you have to test it.

Finally the last kennel lies in front of you and, to your elation, the dog within stands happily looking up at the two of you. The dog is a sort of dark grey-brown, scraggly patches of wiry hair poking out on top of his head down his spine, looking like some sort of excuse for fur. His mouth is open in a friendly grin, its long spotty tongue hanging out of the side. His tail is wagging and he watches you eagerly, eyes looking between you and Hades.

“What the heck is this…?” Hades asks with a tone of disgust.

“This is a Xolo Dog. The only one we have ever rescued actually. They’re kind of rare around here.” I say proudly and look back. He is clearly unconvinced.

“He doesn’t seem to have the same instincts as every other animal here. Is he… I dunno… broken?” He asks, unconvinced that this dog was even a dog.

“It was a theory, but I thought maybe he would be the best option for you. I guess there’s an ancient legend that these dogs were guides for souls in the afterlife. Given that, I thought maybe… he would be… comfortable…” you trail off nervously.

Hades is silent for a moment and he finally steps forward, towering over the dog behind the metal gate.

“What’s his story?”

“His dad was a dog named Dante. I guess when the litter of puppies was born, this one here was kind of the outcast. The other two puppies of the litter were a bit stronger than him. The family that owned Dante thought he might have better chances elsewhere. He’s been here a while… unfortunately, since they aren’t the prettiest dogs to look at, they aren’t exactly sought after.” I explain, crouching down and sticking my fingers through the kennel to let the dog lick them.

“Outcast huh…?” Hades asks, his tone shifting.

I reach up and open the gate, so there isn’t a barrier between the two. The dog happily steps up to Hades and looks up expectantly.

Hades crouches down and looks him in the eye. Rather than shrink in fear, the dog jumps up slightly to lick his face.

Hades flashes an expression of disgust but you swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Does he have a name?” He asks, not taking his eyes off of the animal.

“Ah… not a OFFICIAL one but… we um-” You pause, feeling a wave of embarrassment “we sort of took to calling him Cerb. Short for Cerberus, given the whole afterlife story. I totally understand if you’d prefer something else given the history.”

Hades snorts a scoff “Cerb? Really?”

The dog’s eyes light up and he jumps softly at Hades again, bumping his head against his chest.

Hades rests a hand on Cerb and thinks to himself for a moment.

He finally softly speaks “Well hi there Cerb.”

You smile to yourself, a sudden warm feeling flooding your chest. Just like you had seen a million times with other customers, you were seeing this dark, leather clad villain connect with their new friend.

You let them have a few moments and step back. Hades begins petting and looking over Cerb while Cerb happily pants away, his eyes staring off into space.

You kind of snort to yourself “I won’t lie, his dad wasn’t exactly the brightest bulb and it’s rubbed off on Cerb. He’s got a lot of heart though and you’ll never find a more loyal friend.”

“How does this all work?” Hades finally asks, standing up and facing you. Cerb steps up and leans against his legs, grinning up at Hades.

“Adoption? Well we get donations here so we don’t charge any fees. You just sign a few papers and you have to agree for us to do an inspection of your home at the time of adoption and a little bit after, to make sure the animal is comfortable.” You explain.

He raises an eyebrow and his expression sours “Really….? Is that the normal process or the villain treatment?”

You raise your hands in defense “I promise it’s the normal process now. We want to make sure the animals are just as happy with their owners as the owners are with them. It’s all about making sure they’re where they need to be.”

He sighs and taps his foot, thinking for a moment. He glances down at Cerb who looks back excitedly. Hades then locks eyes with you. It’s the first time you’re really looking him in the eyes since he arrived and you feel a momentarily rush of adrenaline. His icy blue stare analyzes you and his eyelids squint subtly.

“You’d do the inspection?” He asks.

“Myself or another staff member.” You answer, the idea hitting you that you’d be going to his lair when you’ve never left Auradon before.

He thinks for another moment “I want it to be you, since you know him so well.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks but before you can think about it too much you nod in agreement.

He smirks a bit and looks down at Cerb “What do you think? You ready to go home?”

Cerb, who clearly has no idea what’s going on but who’s happy to be included in the conversation, wags his tail fervently.

“So, you’d like to adopt him?” You ask, a smile breaking out over your face. Despite the situation, you still feel a rush of satisfaction when you pair an owner with their new friend.

“Someone’s gotta take him.” Hades says with a shrug. He’s clearly covering up the fact he truly did bond with the dog on some level.

“Fantastic! Let me get him a leash and we will get the paperwork finalized.” You say excitedly, heading back to the front desk with Hades and Cerb following behind.

It only takes a few minutes and one flourished signature on the adoption certificate to officially hand Hades the leash for Cerb.

“Congratulations on your new friend, Hades.” You say with sincerity.

He smiles down at the dog and looks back up at you “So… this is the part where you come see my digs and try to see if I’m unfit for the task huh?”

Your heart suddenly stops and you feel a chill. Sure you’d brought it up several times and agreed to be the one to inspect his place, but now that the time had come it made you freeze.

He smirks when he sees the obvious hesitation on your face.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be back in Auradon safe and sound before you know it. I have no plans to do dastardly things… at least not tonight.” He says cooly.

“Alright … let me grab the keys and lock up.” You say, watching Cerb for any sign of discomfort or unease. You trusted the dog to protect you if Hades DID try anything.

Hades leads you to the door and holds it open for you, an unexpected gesture from someone like him. You feel a blush crawl up your cheeks for some unknown reason.

You jingle the lock closed and stare into the shelter for a moment, as if taking in the sight for the last time.

“Ready? It’s a bit of a walk. Unless you want me to magic us there.” He says raising his palm, blue flames erupting from it.

You jump a bit at the small roar the fire makes and you shake your head “N-no… walking is fine. Cerb needs it.”

Hades shrugs and gestures his hand to dismiss the fire “Suit yourself, Princess.”

You awkwardly begin the walk, feeling extremely small and fragile next to the stomping frame of this god. You know that, if he wanted to, he could just make that fire come back and poof you out of existence in the blink of an eye. You were no stranger to magic, given where you’re from. However, dark magic was an all new thing to witness.

You glance down at Cerb who is happily trotting next to Hades, leaning over to bump onto the side of his legs every once in a while. You smile and look up at Hades again, who’s staring straight ahead calmly.

Maybe he’s more like Cerb than you initially thought. A being that is easy to judge based on looks, but is just like everyone else deep down.

He looks over at you while you stare “Something up, Princess?”

You blush and quickly avert your gaze “S-sorry, I’m just-“ you pause for a moment and quietly continue “I’m not used to seeing someone who looks like you.”

He chuckles “Someone who looks like me? You mean devilishly handsome right?”

You feel another wave of heat rise in your cheeks and you stammer as you try to dismiss his comment “I-I mean someone who dresses like some sort of rock star I guess.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Listen Princess, the world is much bigger than the kingdom of Auradon. There are lots of different ways of doing things. This is just how I like doing it.”

You nod and timidly speak up “I just haven’t ever really been outside of Auradon. The barrier dropping is such a big change. I barely remember the world before it went up.”

“It’s been a change for all of us.” He replies solemnly.

You arrive at the bridge connecting the mainland to the former Isle of the Lost.

“You still have your place over there?” You ask.

“Yeah well… you get used to a place when you’ve been banished there for 20ish years. I’ve spruced it up with my magic and it works for what I need.” He responds, beginning to lead the way over.

As you walk, you take note of the way the permanent gloom that was once clouding the island has dissipated. You’ve never been this close to the island before and you stay keenly alert to your surroundings as you step on its land.

Compared to Auradon, it’s a vibrant mishmash of color, spray paint, and patches of junk holding it all together. It has a sort of charm to it. It’s a place a child would love to freely explore, if the island hadn’t been a prison for so many years.

You look around in wonder but catch Hades subtly grimacing.

“It’s not as fancy as you’re used to, I’m sure.” He says, almost apologetically.

“I mean it’s not what I’m used to but… I dunno… I like it. It feels very free over here.” You say, seeing troupes of VKs sitting around lazily and chatting.

Hades snorts a laugh “Free huh? Not the word I would use to describe it.”

You realize what you said and frantically apologize “No I mean… sorry…. I meant it seems like you can be yourself over here. Auradon has a lot of-” you pause to find the right word “-expectations when you’re there.”

Hades nods and smirks “You’re a prisoner of rules and societal pressures there. Trust me, I remember.” He looks around “We may be a part of Auradon now but I think this island will stay sort of separated in that sense. You’d be hard pressed to find a villain or VK who would want to give up EVERYTHING this Isle once stood for.”

You look around as you listen. You can’t help but wonder what your life would’ve been like if you had lived here all that time. Would you still be following your parent’s plan or would you be following your true passions?

As you navigate through a tiny marketplace, you look in awe at all the little items and trinkets for sale. Small Knick Knacks made from junk litter tables and shelves. You see a few of the younger crowd from Auradon browsing the shops mixed in with the VKs. It’s fascinating to see how quickly some people have adapted to the barrier coming down.

No matter if it’s a VK or an Auradonian, the site of Hades tromping down the walkway makes everyone move to the side and dart their eyes to look at anything but him. You somehow feel incredibly small and yet hugely noticeable walking alongside him. A few people whispered to each other once you got past, surely speculating what you’re doing with the God of the Underworld.

“Don’t mind them. Reputation goes a long way on the Isle. Most people know to stay out of my way.” Hades says, waving his hand dismissively.

This should justify your apprehension of accompanying him, but you find yourself wondering if he still lives up to his reputation at all. So far, the god has seemed almost tame.

As you walk along, looking at all the shops, you slow your pace to admire a rack of sheer scarfs. Each one has a unique pattern on the fabric and is obviously only meant to only act as a visual enhancer, rather than keep the wearer warm. You have never seen fabric like this before, it’s obvious each one is hand made and no two are alike.

“Bet you don’t have anything like this over on the mainland.” Hades remarks, looking back to see why your pace slowed.

You shake your head “Not really. Everything here is so unique… all the stuff in Auradon is usually pretty similar to each other, outside of the dresses Evie makes of course.”

Hades looks a moment between you and the scarfs, he finally pulls a bluish one off the rack and flicks a coin to the eager vendor.

“Here. This one suites you.”

You feel a slight head rush from the unexpected move, your hands grasping the gift before you can truly process it.

“A-are you sure…?” You ask.

He waves his hand again and turns to continue walking “Yeah yeah. It’s repayment for the long walk.”

You smile to yourself and drape the fabric around your neck, admiring the colors and patterns.

“I have one from them myself. I like their stuff.” Hades states. “We aren’t far from home now. The entrance is just up ahead.”

The two of you round a corner and your met with a large, sinister looking gate decorated with scrap pieced together to spell “GET LOST”. Behind the barrier is the entrance to a cave. You look at Hades, feeling that twinge of apprehension come back.

He chuckles to himself and unlocks the gate “It’s all for intimidation. Don’t worry.”

Cerb happily bounds inside the cave which is the biggest factor that pushes you forward.

“It echos a bit in here, just a heads up.” He warns, leading the way inside.

You wind through dark tunnels, illuminated by scattered lighting strung together up on the walls. The ground where you walk has a small track system, indicating this used to be some sort of mine before Hades settled in.

“Nearly there, I promise.” He says almost apologetically.

At long last you enter the main chamber of his lair. It’s a large room where the floor rises and lowers at random places in separate tiers. The place is decorated with everything from old looking Greek statues to vintage music equipment. The walls are scribbled with various designs and writing, one notable wall clearly being a tally of his time trapped here. The sheer number of tally marks puts into scope just how long the barrier was up.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before, things seem to be covered in a layer of dust and an eerie blue light glows throughout the room. In one corner is an old dusty sofa, in another is a large bed covered with tattered blankets.

“I know it’s not pretty to look at but… I am sort of used to it here.” He shrugs, taking off his large overcoat and tossing it on a coat rack absentmindedly.

You look around in awe, somehow fascinated with the lair. However you’re here to do a job and you carefully watch Cerb.

He already eagerly navigating around the room and sniffing at his new surroundings. He hasn’t seemed to have lost any sort of enthusiasm.

“It seems safe enough in here for him but-“ you pause and feel your heart race a bit, scared to offer any sort of critique.

“But what?” Hades asks, leaning against the wall and crossing his large, freshly exposed arms.

“Dogs need to go outside often. There isn’t really-“ you trail off feebly.

“Don’t worry. I already thought of that. Look over here.” Hades beckons.

You follow up to a large door with a doggy door carved out of the middle covered by a flap.

“Open it.” He says.

You reach forward and push against the heavy door, suddenly daylight spills in to the room. A beautiful grassy meadow greets you, a slight breeze tickling your cheeks and birds tweeting away. The faint smell of the ocean radiates through the air and you look at Hades in shock.

“I thought we were in a cave!”

He smirks, clearly impressed with himself “We are. As a god one of my powers is to make myself present wherever I wish. I put a spell on this door to open up here.”

Cerb bolts passed us and zoomies his way through the grass. This place is even nicer than the field you have for the rescues back home. You step out into the grass, feeling a nice warm sunlight hit your skin. Cerb is now on his back and thrashing around happily, clearly enjoying the way the grass feels on his skin.

“Not bad for a dusty old villain huh?” Hades asks, joining up next to you.

“It’s beautiful…. I’ve never seen magic like this before.” You respond, looking back at the door.

In the middle of the field is the doorway, inside is clearly the lair, but nothing appears to be holding the doorway in place.

“Thanks… there is an invisible barrier around the area that will influence anyone outside of it to stay away and for Cerb not to wander too far. I just have to teach him to use the door is all.”

You nod, clearly satisfied with the surroundings.

“I think I’ve seen everything I need to see. I assume you have food and water for him?” You ask, signing off the paperwork you brought while you all walk back into the cave.

Hades snaps his finger, a flash of blue sparks erupting from them, and a bag of dog food and water dish appear in the corner of the room.

You smile widely and hand over the adoption papers “Alright then, Hades. You’re officially Cerb’s owner. We will check back in about a month or so from now just to make sure he’s settled in and you’re used to his personality.”

“We? Or will the inspector be you?” He asks, looking over the papers.

You feel your heart skip a beat “D-Do you want it to be me?”

“Yes.” He answers firmly.

“I-I can make sure that’s notated for you. Um, can I ask why?” You can’t help but probe as to why he’s so specific to get you to help.

“You actually helped me. Sure you judged what I looked like right off the bat but… you changed your mind. It’s refreshing.” He says, crouching down to scratch Cerb’s head.

“Well you seem… nice.” You say softly.

Hades laughs and straightens back up, crossing his arms “Is that what I seem like? I guess I need to work on fixing that”. He winks at you with a cheeky smirk.

You laugh nervously “As long as Cerb’s safe and happy I suppose I don’t mind what you do.”

You look around the lair again and bring your gaze back to Hades, whose eyes are locked on to you.

“If you need anything make sure to reach out. I guess I should get back home, it’s probably super late.” You say, preparing to turn around and go back the way you came.

Hades steps forward a bit “Wait-“ he seems to stammer while finding his words “ah, are you hungry?”

You furrow your brow in confusion “Am I hungry?”

Hades nods, clearly angry with himself for blurting out such a random question.

“I mean it’s late and I haven’t eaten for a while, so I’m getting there. Why?”

“I just was about to cook something up if you wanted.” He says, scratching the back of his head.

If it wasn’t his treatment of Cerb or when he bought you the scarf, it would be this moment that fully convinced you this man was no longer the villain everyone made him out to be.

“Sure I could eat.” You finally answer with a smile.

[actiniumwrites]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐓

synopsis: in which you play the bandit in zosimos’ play, aka kaeya’s counterpart. when an unscripted moment occurs between the two of you on stage, you can’t help but realize your feelings for him are all but lost

characters: kaeya x gn!reader

wc: 1.1k

warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, like one cuss word, takes place in the 3.8 summer event, this was entirely written at midnight last night in one setting (so it might be ass)

notes: i absolutely loved this event and had to write something for kaeya! this definitely could have been a small scene in a bigger fic, but i feel like it worked as a drabble. also, i may or may not have a really long fic being written for him 👀 apologies if you’re reading this in the future and didn’t get to play the event and have zero clue what’s going on 😭

Damn these lights!

A subtle burning on both corners of either of your eyes was all you could focus on. The orange was coming from the left, while the blue was coming from the right. The intensity of each of them guaranteed you a painful headache later — a thought you had to send away before you groaned, an action that was certainly not within the script.

The sides of your lips were pulling downward against your will and your foot was starting to slip just a tad bit to the side. Any longer and you felt like you were going to collapse. Kaeya was taking too long to recite his lines, going all in with the theatrics and intense emotions. His hands waved dramatically in the air and his voice was booming, even though the crowd consisted entirely of your friends. If he could just hurry up and walk over to where you were stuck posing upright, then you could finally act out the final scene of Zosimos’ play and finish fixing the domain like you were supposed to be doing.

Admittedly, you had no intention of joining the play when Zosimos first announced he needed help with it. In fact, the script originally didn’t even include your character, The Bandit. It wasn’t until Zosimos came rushing out of his writing room complaining something was wrong with the script that he had somehow found a way to force you into the whole ordeal.

“Me?!” Your eyes widened when he pointed in your general direction. Honestly, you were barely even paying attention to the guy. So when he suddenly started pointing fingers and incoherently mumbling ideas about a new character, you were certainly startled.

“Yes! You!” he beamed with excitement and started shuffling around for a paper and pen, “I was just observing you and your boyfriend here, and suddenly I got the idea! You’ll be the thief’s sidekick: the bandit who he saved from a life of crime. Your real life dynamic is nothing but perfect for the role!”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when you realized what he said, “Huh? Hey, wait! Kaeya isn’t my—!”

He rushed off before you could correct him, laughing to himself and eagerly looking for some ink to adjust his script. Whether he heard you or not, it was obvious the playwright didn’t care. His mind was made up on the idea and you knew that there was no changing a mind like his.

Now you were stuck in this predicament. Eyes burning, leg cramping, and desperately wanting to go home to save yourself from the embarrassment of having zero acting skills. That and the fact that Kaeya and the others couldn’t help but tease you to no end after Zosimos’ assumption.

“I’m back!” Kaeya said as he walked over to you, snapping you out of your thoughts. Quickly, you returned to acting like your character. A bright smile pulled at the sides of your lips when you saw the prop in his hands. You had to stop yourself from squinting at it and ruining the scene. While your character was supposed to be happy, you were certainly not.

Kaeya moved slightly in front of you, shielding you from some of the harsh lights. The orange one still caught your side, lighting you as if you were standing amidst a beautiful sunset. And star props hanging above the stage gently reflected across your irises, almost like you had stars in your eyes. You looked up at your counterpart and breathed out as a your character slowly realized what was going on, “You…you got it? The darkness is finally over?”

Kaeya held his breath as he looked at you, stunned at the way you looked in all the stage lights and the beautifully sewn costume Idyia had tailored to you. His hands cupped themselves around yours and he pulled you in closer, “That’s right…we can finally live together in peace.”

His blue eyes were a much gentler sight to look at, contrasting the intense lights all around you. Kaeya leaned in gently, ready to pose for the final scene as Zosimos prepared to give his final narration and end the play.

When a few seconds passed and nothing was being said, your head tilted slightly past his shoulder so you could peer into the tiny crowd and figure out what was going on. All of them were sitting on the edge of their seats, enthralled by the sight in front of them, eagerly anticipating what was coming next — even the ever so apathetic Eula seemed to be waiting carefully. You quietly clear your throat, hoping the playwright would hear, but it seemed he too couldn’t tear his eyes away. Kaeya’s hand gently left one of your hands and reached up to meet your cheek, cupping it slightly and pulling you in.

“Wait, this wasn’t part of the script—” you hurriedly whisper and quickly glance between him and the crowd, but Kaeya cuts you off when his lips meet yours. He leans you back slightly, but pulls you in with the hand on the lower part of your back. It’s desperate, messy, but over far too quickly for your liking. He’s smiling into the kiss and it doesn’t leave his face when he pulls away and glances into your eyes for a split second before turning to the crowd. Before you know it, he’s grabbing onto your hand and the two of you are bowing together. With wide eyes and a flushed face, you turn to look at the crowd as well.

Collei is smiling brightly next to Eula who smiled a bit herself, but not before turning away so no one could see. Paimon is cheering loudly, but it’s not enough to drown out Zosimos who’s clapping profusely. You swear you see some tears fall out of his eyes as well. And soon enough, Kokomi, Aether, and Klee are next to you, bowing alongside the two of you.

You turn to Kaeya in the midst of it all, only to find him already looking at you with the biggest smile you think you’ve ever seen on his face. The lights are shining just as brightly as they were in your eyes, although you’re sure he looks a thousand times better than you do. His hand squeezes yours and he winks before turning back to the audience.

Suddenly the years you spent pining after your best friend come to a close as you finally realize: Kaeya had liked you all along and this was his grand way of finally showing it to you.

[johaerys-writes]

Chapter 2: The Devil's Right Hand

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

Achilles adjusts his hat on his head, sizing up the barrels that have been set at each corner of the pen. He’s moved into a larger one today, the largest in the ranch, for his training. Xanthus beneath him snorts and hooves at the ground, eager to be let loose. 

“Do the barrels need to be so close to the fence?”

“That what you’ll be up against at the rodeo,” Phoenix says, leaning his wiry frame against the fence. He takes a plug of tobacco out of his pocket and slips it in his mouth. “Remember, lead with your legs, not your hands. Don’t want to see you tugging on those reins like you did last time. Almost pulled that horse's jaw out.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that the first time you said it,” Achilles says impatiently. This time there are more barrels than usual in the pen, and he knows that Phoenix only did that to make things harder for him and that it isn’t going to be like this at the competition, but that doesn’t make him any less fired up to try and beat his last record. 

Last year he placed first in the big Thessaly rodeo, the youngest ever to hold the title, leaving seasoned riders in the dust. This year, he wants to do the same. He wants to make a name for himself, and there’s no other way to do that than to start young; one day, he’s going to join the real cowboys, riding bulls and broncs and roping down cattle. But for now, barrel racing is where his mind’s at.

He starts off at an even pace, warming up his horse. They circle the barrels leisurely, leaving clover-leaf shaped tracks in the dirt. He’s only had Xanthus for a few months—his father got the horse for him for his thirteenth birthday—but from the moment he swung a leg over the saddle, it’s like the animal could read his mind. They move together seamlessly; Achilles only needs to glance at the next barrel for Xanthus to lead him straight towards it. 

The men that had been working at the field and the barn next to the pen one by one leave their tasks to gather around the fence and watch him. Eudorus grins up at him when Achilles passes him by, his cheek still sporting the bruise an angry mother cow gave him the week before.

“Fixing to break them records again, kid?” he asks.

“Only if I get through the trials and tribulations Phoenix is setting me up for,” Achilles says. "And I've told you before, Eudorus: I'm no kid."

Eudorus laughs, pulling his whiskey flask out of his pocket. "That's just what a kid would say." 

Achilles rolls his eyes, just as Phoenix calls out, “We ain’t got all day, boy. If you worked half as much as you talked, you’d be world champion by now.”

Achilles chuckles, urging Xanthus into a steady canter. By the time he rides back to the starting place, the length of the fence is almost entirely occupied by the workers, seasonal and permanent both. They all cheer for him, and some of them are already placing bets. Just when he’s about to start, he catches Patroclus walking out of the stables. He hasn't abandoned his work like the other men did; he’s still cleaning out the stalls, pushing his wheelbarrow outside, but when he notices the commotion and spots Achilles on Xanthus ready to let loose, he stops short.

Their eyes lock, and Achilles smiles. He touches the brim of his hat in salute, then kicks Xanthus forward. 

The horse takes off like the wind. Achilles can barely hear the cheers of the men that get stronger, their shouted encouragement and their jokes. He can only hear the beat of the hooves on the ground and the rush of air past his ears; he can only feel his own heartbeat and the undulating motion of the animals beneath him. Xanthus deftly circles the first barrel, then Achilles steers him with his knees towards the next one. The men’s voices rise high when Xanthus skirts the next barrel with his flank; it sways precariously but miraculously stays upright—and then they’re off to the next one, and the next, moving with one mind, with singular purpose.

The men roar when he races back to the starting point, flushed and proud and grinning and with all the barrels still standing. Xanthus snorts and tosses back his mane as Achilles stands up on the saddle, crowing his victory. Phoenix gives him an approving nod; he did break a new record, after all. 

Achilles glances back over the men, towards the stables. Patroclus is still there, watching with a small smile on his lips, and somehow that is Achilles’ biggest triumph yet. 

Read the rest on AO3!

[lokischocolatefountain]

Hiiii!

I have a request for you. Can you write something about their wedding? You have mentioned it alot of time and I am curious how their day was.

Chucho’s Boy

Series Masterlist

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word count: 2.1k words

Summary: Chucho Peña’s boy finds love and nobody could be happier about it but him.

A/N: Hiii! I’m so late with this so I’m sorry about that first of all. I’ve tried something new with the wedding thing and I hope you enjoy it 🥰

Chucho Peña waited on the road in front of his farm, all the work for that morning done and his family gathered in the living room in front of the TV. He hadn’t scheduled much for that day anyways. He worked hard, instilled the same values in his son— perhaps a bit too much. But he knew to separate work from the rest of life. He knew to make time for leisure, make time for family. Perhaps he should’ve drilled that into Javier’s head a little more when he was growing up and still eager to listen to his old man.

“It’s here!” The postman yelled from a distance, still pedaling towards his destination on his old bicycle Chucho knew he’d owned since he took up the job nearly a decade ago.

His lips stretched into a smile as the package he’d been waiting on got closer and closer, yet not fast enough for his impatient heart. He made a quick trip to his front door and peeked in at the gathered family.

“It’s here!” He said, the news causing them to erupt into cheers. He ran back to the road and took the package from the postman.

“Congrats, Chucho! You finally got the tape,” he said, pulling out the notepad with a form for him to sign to confirm he’d received the package that came all the way from Colombia. Ever since Javier said he’d handed the package off to the mailroom at his job, Chucho had been waiting like Javier used to wait for his Christmas presents— impatient, bursting with excitement and counting the days until he could get his hands on it. Now all of Laredo knew that he was waiting for a package from his son.

He thanked the postman for bringing the precious cargo before rushing into his living room. One of his nieces who was much better with technology ripped the package open and set up the VCR to play the cassette. A piece of paper fell out of the package, one he bent down and picked up. He loved letters from his son— phone calls were always cut short by his work and Chucho felt that Javier was more honest with his pen than he was with his lips. But the letter would have to wait.

The TV screen filled with the colors of the office room in the embassy in Colombia, showing him a glimpse of where his son spent all his days and nights when he wasn’t facing danger on the streets. Javier shuffled into the frame, hair combed neatly and wearing the only tuxedo he owned. He adjusted his tie and tugged at the cuffs of his shirt to have them peeking outside his jacket sleeves.

Weddings in Laredo didn’t need such a nice suit. They also had family, he thought bitterly about the job that kept his only child so far away from him. But if it weren’t for the job, he wouldn’t have found the woman he was happy to settle down with. Behind the TV was a picture taken decades ago, back when Javi was only three quarters his current height and when he smiled easily. Back when the farm had Mama, Papa and Javi instead of just Papa and the animals. Carmela had her arm around their boy and Chucho had her hand in his. Oh how much Javier had grown from the little boy in the picture to the man on the television, all dressed up to marry the woman he loves. His heart ached for Carmela as he watched Javier’s features brighten— that was when he knew his daughter-in-law had walked into the room.

That was a smile he saw on his son too long ago, sometime before they lost his mother. Grief had consumed both father and son and while he was able to smile again now, his son had jumped headfirst into a job that took that particular smile away. The one that reached his eyes, one that wasn’t weighed down by the burden on his shoulders at all times. The first time he’d seen it in years was when he brought the girl home to introduce her as the woman he was marrying.

She wasn’t in a big wedding dress. It was white, but nothing grand. Javi leaned forward and whispered something to her, the smile on his lips stretching wider. She whispered something back to him before the officiant walked up and took his position.

“Javier Peña,” the officiant drawled as he looked at the bride and groom. “They weren’t joking, huh? You really are getting married.”

The family laughed at that and he joined. While he married Carmela early, Javier was something of a perpetual bachelor. Long ago, he locked away the part of his heart that wished for grandchildren. Now, he was beginning to hope again as he watched Javier’s smile turn a little shy before it turned cocky. “She couldn’t help but say yes,” he said, smirking at his bride.

“Well I could still say I don’t instead of I do, Peña,” she teased, making them laugh just like the people in the video recording. He took his left hand in his right and thumbed the ring on her finger.

“Is this why people throw big weddings? So the bride feels bad for the expenses and doesn’t leave at the last minute?”

“Maybe,” she answered, laughing with the room. The room fell into silence when the officiant cleared his throat. He pulled a piece of paper from his suit jacket and unfolded it.

“I see many men and women leave our homes behind to serve our country, to fight for a cause. Far away from home, I see so many grow lonely, tie themselves to their desks. In the groom’s case, his jeep. Going back and forth between Bogota and Medellin, facing the worst of humanity in this beautiful country. We get nice apartments here, but most never turn into homes as we cannot bring our families here. I’m happy to see that amidst all this, the two of you have found love and have made a home together,” he spoke, his expressions sincere and radiating warmth towards the couple. “Now for the vows.”

“Do you want to go first or…?” Javier asked his bride, ever the polite boy.

“I want to,” she said softly, taking his hands in hers.

The act reassured Chucho. They had a big extended family but Javier was still an only child. They tried. For years and years. But God had decided that they would have one little boy to raise. As an only child, he grew accustomed to doing everything alone- playing, chores, Mother’s Day cards. Javier would never have ended up in his lonesome- his cousins wouldn’t have let that happen. But he’d spread his wings out, flown far far away from family. He put himself in a place where it was difficult to get hold of him.

When she took his hands, it was as though they were telling him that neither of them would be alone from now. They would have each other. His boy would have someone to live for, instead of great big causes to die for.

“At first, I smiled at you at the restaurant only because I wanted to keep the free snacks coming,” she began, making Javi chuckle. “And then I agreed to a date and then another date and then you went and got on one knee at the same restaurant. That was when I knew my ploy for free snacks had gone too far.”

Javier’s laugh was distinct in the room. Chucho would always place it in a sea of people, and find his sweet face in a crowd.

“We’d just had dinner there and as tradition dictates, you paid for it. So I decided to stretch the free food out further and said yes. And now here we are, at the embassy, getting married,” she said, the mirth in her eyes softening to something more earnest.

“It wasn’t my first choice of venue when I thought of a wedding, but you are my first choice of groom. The only choice. I have never wanted to spend my entire life with anyone— that shit scared me. And I know it scared you too. What scares me more now is a life without you. I cannot imagine a life without being cared for the way you care for me, the way you care about everyone you come across in life. I can no longer go without your smile and your warm hugs and the way you can make me feel safe no matter what is going on around us. I promise to give you at least a shred of that safety in my arms when you come home.”

His son’s eyes glinted in the light and his nose turned pink. Telltale signs of approaching tears. His prediction came true as Javi lifted a hand to wipe his tears away. Chucho felt himself tear up as well. All a parent wanted was to see their children be happy. Not many had that blessing.

Oh how Carmela would’ve loved to see their boy get married… She would not have allowed a wedding at an embassy, of course. She would’ve flown herself to Colombia if she had to and gotten their boy to a church.

“I will stand by you in the hard times and the good times. I promise I will care for you the way you care for me. I promise to be your sanctuary, to cherish you when you’re home and miss you when you’re not. I promise you, Javier, the rest of my life, whatever it may look like.”

Javi leapt forward and pulled his bride into a kiss, his hands on either side of her face. He pulled back to look at her, his eyes softening and his smile honest.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice inaudible in the recording but his lips moving the right way to convey exactly what he’d said. He placed a kiss on her forehead when the officiant interrupted saying, “I didn’t say you could kiss.”

Bride and groom laughed and all the way here in Laredo, they too laughed at how eager he was to kiss his now wife. Defying the officiant, he pecked her lips once again before taking a step back.

“This embassy had become my life by the time I met you. My life revolved around work, criminals, cigarettes and bottles of whiskey, all of them mired in a darkness that I didn’t even know existed before I came here. In sunny Colombia, there was hardly any light for me. Until you. I still work too much, smoke too much, drink a little less than I used to— but still, too much. Because of you, I want to do a lot less of that. Because I have you, I want to come home.”

Chucho’s sister cooed at the confession, hand on her chest over her heart as she watched the pair marry. It wasn’t what he wanted, witnessing his only son’s wedding in his living room weeks after it happened. But it was what he had and it was sweet nevertheless.

“But the darkness can no longer consume me the way it used to because you shine brighter than the darkness I bring to our lives. To the woman who does that for me, I promise everything. All that I am and all that I have, though it’s very little, is yours until I die. I promise you all of me, the good and the bad and the darkness only you have embraced. I promise I will protect you with my life. I promise a better life when this is all over, to be a better husband than I have been a boyfriend. I promise to love you and respect you and cherish you the way you deserve to be.”

Chucho sniffled and wiped his tears off, his soul finally at peace to see his son promise himself to a woman, to a life that was more than just chasing criminals. He looked up at the picture of Carmela and spoke to her the way he’d been speaking to her since he buried her. Our boy is happy. Our boy is loved. He has found a home.

Along with the family, he watched the couple say I do. He wiped off more tears as he thought of his own wedding day and the life he shared with his wife, the baby boy they raised to be a good man.

They exchanged rings, smiling at each other and Chucho saw their entire future ahead of them— the parts he would see and the parts he wouldn’t. The children they would have and the love they would share, just like he did with his Carmela.

[despair-tea]

Time seemed to slip away from her. The Witch looked up and already the sun had set - it was pitch black out her window. In fact it was dark at her desk too, the candle having sputtered out at some point.

From the other room, she heard her bodyguard snoring. She supposed that Tsubaki had come home at some point during the night but couldn't remember any of the details.

She couldn't remember a lot of things, when she was alone.

When was the last time she had eaten? For that matter- what day was it? She lit another candle instead of going to bed and leafed thru the pages she had apparently inked last night.

Before long there was a knock at the door that made her jump in her seat. Time had gotten away from her again. The sun had just come up and it was Tsubaki at the door, come to check on her. She dipped her now-dry pen in the mug on the table and went to open the door, but the other woman pushed it open without waiting for an answer.

Tsubaki started to say something, caught herself, and began again. "You're still up? You look like shit."

"I'm fine, I took a little nap at my desk, that's all," she lied. She felt so small under Tsubaki's eyes. Everyone else took her at her word, after all.

"Like hell you did. You slept with your glasses on?"

The Witch reflexively adjusted them, though they hadn't drooped in the slightest. "W-well no, I just put them back on."

"I'm sure. And you meant to clean your pen in cold tea too?"

It was hard to deny the wisps of black ink making their lazy way off the pen nib. She looked back at Tsubaki with a sheepish expression, then dashed away to rinse the cup out in the sink. An exasperated sigh reached her ears, leaving them burning. For whatever reason, she found herself acting so childish around Tsubaki. Making up excuses - telling pointless lies.

"Listen, you should get some sleep soon. But do you want breakfast first?" Casually, she let the chiding voice drop and there was a hint of real care there.

There was a moment's pause. For just a moment, there was the sound of the tap and the Witch could see Tsubaki in the mirror - leaning against the door and looking more concerned than maybe she needed to be. Having her around seemed to put the brakes on the mad rush of time. One moment could just be one moment long. She shut the tap and flashed a smile back. It looked a little strained and the dark circles weren't helping any, but it set the other woman at ease just a little.

"Yeah," she said. "I'd like that."

Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, she trundled downstairs behind Tsubaki. With a yawn, she took a seat at the table and propped her chin up with both hands to stay awake as the other rummaged through the pantry. She hated to make Tsubaki do the cooking, but she was just so tired after all that nothing she apparently did overnight. Well, neither of them was fit to hold a knife right now — one for lack of sleep, the other was merely cursed — so Tsubaki made do with what she could work with. And as The Witch watched, she felt time pass blissfully slowly.

It was worth savoring, when she could.

[leezlelatch]

You Are My Sunshine

Dad!Copia drabble. Copia spends a little time with his baby girl in his office.

Copia scribbles his signature on the document before him, the paper moving slightly, causing the V in IV to skew crookedly across the signature line. He chuckles softly to himself and then looks down at the little bundle wrapped in his left arm.

"A little harder to write, but entirely worth it, eh, bambina?"

He sets down his pen to adjust the blanket, pulling it down slightly so his baby girl's face is clear. Copia grins, joy in his eyes as he watches her little mouth pucker, searching for a pacifier or a bottle even in her slumber. Her eyelashes are such a light brown, delicately dusting her cheeks. He gently smooths a hand over the fuzzy hair on her head, and Copia idly wonders if she'll have curls when she's older.

“My little sunshine baby," he coos at her, leaning back in his chair to hold her closer. Paperwork can wait when his very life rests in his arms.

For a man above 50, alone most of his life, this baby is his miracle. He can never thank his Prime Mover enough for showing him he deserves to be loved and to give love. For accepting him as their husband, and now the father of their child. Copia loves his little family with every fiber of his being and could burst into tears from just the very thought of what the Dark Lord has blessed him with.

The baby squirms and makes a disgruntled noise, her little hand coming up, fingers moving in reflex against her face. Copia gently cups her hand, letting the small digits wrap around his finger to pull it softly away from her cheek. Newborn nails, to his surprise, are awfully sharp, and he nearly had a panic attack the first time he saw a small cut on her sweet face.

"We'll have to clip these again, piccolina," he tsks.

She stretches, slowly coming out of her doze, those precious little newborn grunts escaping her lips as she opens her eyes, blinking heavily against the light. Copia sighs softly, entirely in love with his baby. He strokes her warm cheek with a finger, gently tapping the tip of her nose.

"Buongiorno, my love. Did you sleep well?" The baby's tiny mouth opens wide as she yawns, and he laughs in delight. "Oh, si, mio dolce bambina, hai dormito così bene mentre Papa lavorava."

She looks toward his voice with sleepy eyes, her pink lips stretching into a smile, and although Copia has been told it is a reflex at this stage, he chooses to believe that she is smiling at her Papa. It never fails to make tears spring to his eyes, and he wipes them away, his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

"Look at your Papa, bambina. Such a mess. You have me wrapped around your little finger, you know this, huh?" He uses a single finger to tickle at her belly. "Are you laughing at your sciocco vechio Papa?"

Another smile stretches across her small face, and she moves in his arms, fingers opening and closing, legs kicking under the little embroidered rat blanket she is wrapped in. Copia leans his head against the back of his chair, staring up at the ceiling for a moment while a rush of emotion flows through his chest. He swallows and looks back down at her, a watery smile on his lips.

“I love you so much,” he whispers. “My precious little miracle. This is my paradise. This is my home.”

Oh, si, mio dolce bambina, hai dormito così bene mentre Papa lavorava - Oh, yes, my sweet baby, you slept so well while Papa worked. Sciocco vechio Papa - Silly old Papa.

[unaside]

idk if i’m gonna finish this. i probably won’t but u can have it ‼️

Conner was lonely. It had only been a few weeks since Alex had stayed with grandma for good, but he missed them more he was willing to admit. Although he knew Alex was probably having the time of her life in the place of her dreams, he couldn’t help but stare at her empty desk during school. After napping on it, he eventually decided to visit them.

“Hey, mom?” Conner asked while his mother was at home during her break from work.

“Yes, Conner?” Charlotte answered, clicking her pen and looking up.

“I think I’m going to visit, y’know, Alex and grandma.”

Charlotte just smiles, a special twinkle in her eye. She was so proud to have children with such a bond.

After school, Conner ran to his room with a bounce in his step. He pulled his drawer open and took out the book inside. The book that started everything. The Land of Stories.

He cleared the trash on his floor and set the book down. Almost immediately after it touched the floor, it began to glow. He flipped through the pages, feeing the smooth paper under his fingertips.

Conner sighs. “Let’s hope it won’t hurt this time.”

He jumped into the book and feels the cool air rushing past his face as he fell. Instead of screaming like he had the first time, he braces himself for the land and hit the ground with a thump. This time he landed in the gardens of the Fairy Kingdom.

“Wish I had landed here earlier.” He said to no one in particular because that’s how Conner is.

Cracking his back, he walked towards the Fairy Palace and waved at the fairies passing by. They all stared at him as if they’d just seen a kid fall from the sky. Oh wait..

Conner reached the obnoxiously bright palace and stepped into the main room, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Once they did, he saw that none of the fairy council members were seated in their chairs.

“Weird.” He said. Why does Conner keep talking to himself? I swear no one does this in real life.

He didn’t really care. He just wanted to find Alex. He walked up the stupidly long spiral stairs and reached the second floor.

Conner didn’t exactly remember where her room was, but he knew he’d find it. After all, what couldn’t he do?

Homework.

(Sorry, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity)

Conner strolled through the halls, peeking into every room with an unlocked door. He knew he probably shouldn’t have, but who was he to tell himself what to do?

(God, I need to get it together)

After walking around the halls, totally not lost, he heard the faint sound of voices. They were quiet, but sounded familiar. It could be Alex and grandma.

Conner followed the sound, tiptoeing across the floor. He refused to admit that it looked stupid and he just wanted to tiptoe.

He reached the door and found that it was opened just a crack. Conner looked into the crack and found Alex and grandma sitting on grandma’s bed.

He decided not to open the door just yet, and instead listen to them.

It wasn’t eavesdropping. He was just secretly listening to their conversation.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Alex said.

Grandma gave her a bittersweet smile and held Alex’s hands in hers. “I know. It’s a lot of responsibility, but I truly believe you can do it. You can do anything you put your mind to.”

“But grandma, I’m not a leader. I’ve never done anything like this before!” Alex looked so worried, Conner wanted to open the door and walk in right then and there.

“I trust you.”

Alex looked down at her hands with a pensive look on her face. She sat in silence, before looking up again to ask one question. “Why me?”

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 19: Overtime

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

* Warnings: language, people getting hit by a bull, bar fight

* Word count: 3,560ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! As always feel free to hop in my ask box and scream with me lol.

Stella was seated on the ground outside the bunkhouse. It was Saturday night, after the morning with the bulls, and poker was being played inside like usual. The door hung open to let some fresh air into the house. She pulled her jacket tighter. It was damp out. To her right she heard footsteps. It was Kayce. He was heading out to see Tate.

“Be safe okay? I think it’s gonna rain.” Stella warned. He glanced back at her and nodded. She watched as he pulled off. She hoped this visit would go well for him. Shaking it off, she made her way back into the house.

There was a ruckus going on. Something about all of them being boring coming from Avery. The new day worker, Cowboy, was egging all the guys on. Stella smirked to herself and leaned against the sink as she adjusted her glasses and crossed her arms. She wanted to see how this played out.

“We should play cowboy poker.” Cowboy suggested. Her brother started to protest.

Jimmy asked. “What’s cowboy poker?” Colby tried to intervene and tell him not to worry about it.

Stella interjected. “Oh c’mon you guys! All we ever do is play regular poker. Lord knows y’all won’t go to the bar. Why can’t we live a little?”

Avery, Stella, and Cowboy started making their way outside to the round pen. Some protests followed behind them. They all made quick work of setting up the plastic furniture in the middle of the pen.

Colby, Avery, Stella, Ryan, Jimmy, and Cowboy had taken their betting seats. Cowboy gave everyone a quick run down. The basic gist of the game was to stay seated as long as possible. The bull always goes for the table first, but with so many people seated at the table? Stella wasn’t so sure it would be just the table getting wrecked this time.

Lloyd shut the gate behind them. “Y’all sure about this?!”

Everyone looked back at him. Stella laughed and said, “are we ever sure about anything we do Lloyd?”

“Does someone wanna explain the rules?” Jimmy asked.

Ryan offered a quick explanation. “Last one at the table keeps the pot.” He looked to Colby, offering him the bottle of alcohol he brought with him. “You want some courage?”

Colby snatched the bottle from Ryan. “Fuck yeah I do.” He took a large swig.

“Drink up, dipshits.” Cowboy teased.

Lloyd offered as much guidance to his stupid little ducklings as he could. “Y’all are gettin’ horse traded by this ol’ bastard. Jimmy, stay seated no matter what. Bull always goes for the table first.” Avery and Stella grabbed each other’s hands ready for the shit storm.

Jimmy screamed and waved his hands around. “This is fuckin’ nuts!”

“Yeah, there’s not a lot smart about it.” Ryan started to second guess his decision.

“Here we go ladies!” Avery toasted with the booze.

“Jake! Let it rip!” Lloyd yelled.

Jake went over to let out the bull. He pushed it down the chute and it slowly made its way into the pen. They all braced themselves for potential impact. The bull rushed at them. Stella watched as everyone, Cowboy included, tucked tail and ran. She and Avery squeezed each other’s hand and shut their eyes tight.

The bull got closer and rammed right in between Avery and Stella. The bull’s horns caught both of them on their sides ripping their hands apart. The two women thudded to the ground. Avery was a quick little thing and was able to get up before Stella. The bull whipped back around to charge at Stella on the ground. She scrambled to stand and felt arms under hers pulling her to the outside of the ring to safety.

Stella exclaimed, breathless. “Holy shit! That was wild!” She saw Jimmy to her left. He must have been the one to pull her out. She glanced to her right. Ryan was on his way and looked ready to call Viggo to take her to the hospital for nothing.

“Well I’ll be damned! God! Did ya see that?! Balls of steel!” Cowboy hooted.

“Are they okay?”

Stella breathed out. “Yes, Jimmy we’re fine.”

“Here you’re gonna need this.” Colby handed Stella the liquor. She promptly handed it over to Avery.

“You don’t want any?” Avery looked puzzled.

“I don’t drink, girlfriend.”

“Swore there was plenty to take my money.” Ryan joked.

Avery held out her hand to Lloyd. “Gimme my money.”

Stella lined up next to her. “Run me that money good sir.”

“That’s some cowboy shit, girls.”

Colby was being a sore loser. “They lost their hats, they owe us a six pack.”

“The fuck I do.” Avery defended. “She doesn’t either.”

Rip swung the barn doors open and hollered. “What’re you dipshits doin’?”

“It’s a Saturday,” Jimmy gave a lame answer.

“I know what fuckin’ day it is, Jimmy. Don’t be messin’ with that bull. You all wanna have fun?! Go to the fuckin’ bar! You know better than to mess with these bulls! Get the fuck outta here.” Everyone scattered back to the bunkhouse. He walked up next to Lloyd. “Well Lloyd, who won?”

Lloyd smirked. “It was our girls. Split down the middle. Didn’t flinch a muscle until they got thrown. Tough as nails, I’ll tell ya.”

“Or stupid as hell.”

The gang gathered their wits and they made their way to the bar. They figured a few drinks after all that wouldn’t be so bad. Ryan was in helicopter mom mode. He made sure to keep a close eye on all of them. Stella especially.

“What, dear brother of mine?”

“That shit could have been real bad, you know?”

“And so what? We had fun, didn’t we? You were in there, too. And your drinks are on me anyhow.” Stella turned the chair next to the pool table around and sat on it backwards. She took a sip of her soda and faced the pool table to watch Ryan and Colby play. Jimmy wandered over.

“Hey you okay? That bull hit you guys pretty hard.”

Stella laughed. “Yeah Jimmy. I’m alright. I’ve had worse. Thanks for pulling me out by the way.”

“I know you would do the same for me. It’s the least I could have done.” He tapped her shoulder gently and went to sit with Avery. Stella could tell he was smitten with the woman. She smiled at the pair.

Colby’s voice floated in from her side. “So when are we gonna have to worry about you being in that position?”

Stella barked out a humorless laugh. “My dear Colby, that would require a man to not see me as one of the dudes, or be scared away by y’all heathens.” She scratched her head and looked at him directly. “So probably not any time soon.” She laughed, trying to cover up her embarrassment at the subject. “Not anything serious, anyhow.” She leaned on her elbows against the chair.

“There ain’t no way they see you as one of the dudes.” Colby disagreed.

“Yes they very much do. I blame y’all.” She laughed.

Her laughter was cut short by the sound of yelling from Jimmy’s direction. They heard Avery yell for Ryan and the bar broke out into complete chaos. Ryan stepped to Avery and Jimmy, when the guy who was the problem threw her brother over the bar.

Stella jumped in to defend her brother. “Hey dick head!” She hopped on the guy’s back while Avery and Jimmy took care of his front. The man grabbed Stella’s arms that were around his neck and tossed her onto Jimmy and Avery. The rough landing, plus the hit from the bull earlier, had her groaning on the ground. The wind had gotten knocked out of her. She clambered her way along the floor and got behind the bar.

Ryan started to help her up, but pushed her backwards as a body came flying over the bar top at them. Stella caught herself against the back wall only to be knocked backward by the boots of the random man flying at her and Ryan. The man’s boots caught the underside of her chin. Her teeth snapped shut as she gasped. For a few moments, she saw stars.

Grabbing the wall and corner of the bar she stabilized herself. Stella shook her head. She was dizzy. Seeing two Colby’s open the back door she started weaving and ducking her way to the exit. She gave a hard shove here and there trying to keep people off of her. She didn’t want to get drug into any of the battles going on. Colby pushed her the last few feet through the door. She braced herself on the wall outside and caught her breath. The rest of the wranglers had started to spill into the parking lot.

Colby came over to her. “Stell, you okay?” She nodded and headed to the truck. She wanted to get the hell out of there. Her head was pounding.

When they got back to the bunkhouse, everyone found a seat. Some hung their heads. Some groaned. Lloyd was handing out frozen things from the freezer. He pulled his dad-stance and began to scold them all for going to the bar without him. Ryan was good at keeping the peace, but Lloyd was better.

Lloyd handed her the last bag of peas. According to him, there was a nice bruise on the bottom of her chin. Stella traded the bag to her brother for his cheek. She wanted to find Tylenol. They all would need it.

The bottle rattled in her hand as she returned from the bathroom. She heard the front door shut. She glanced up to see Kayce standing there surveying the damage.

“What happened?” Kayce asked. No one answered. His eyes finally made it to Stella. He could easily see the large bruise on her chin from across the room. A glare took over his face, jaw clenched. They locked eyes and he stalked over to her. She felt like a deer in headlights. “What the fuck happened?” He grabbed her chin to bring it higher to be able to see and she hissed in pain.

She pulled away quickly. “Ouch Kayce! I’m fine!”

Lloyd ratted them out. “Someone worked them over at the bar.”

Kayce pointed at her. “You are not fine.” He turned on his heel and quickly exited the house on a mission.

“Way to fuckin’ go ladies. This is what your fun gets us.” Ryan sassed at them.

Stella shoved at him angrily as she ran past him to catch up with Kayce. “Shut the fuck up. Nows not the time.” She would rather eat her own foot than hear his self righteous ‘I told you so.’

She busted out of the door and sprinted to catch up to him. “Kayce, wait!”

“What? I’m gettin’ Rip. We have to go make this right.”

Stella grabbed his arm. “Hold on, yes we got worked over, but what are you gonna do?”

“We’re gonna go back and beat the shit out of them. They shouldn’t have touched you.” He rephrased. “They shouldn’t have touched any of you.”

Her hand slipped off his arm, remembering her conversation with Jimmy earlier that day. She waved toward the foreman’s lodge in defeat. Kayce turned around and headed up the walkway with Stella behind him. It was like she was hiding herself from the imminent scolding. He knocked on Rip’s door.

It flung open, Rip with no hat and just a shirt. It was always so strange seeing him casual to Stella. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Bunch of the wranglers got worked over.”

“What do you mean “worked over”?”

“Had the hell beat out of them.” Kayce reached behind him to pull Stella forward as an example.

“No, stop!” She fought with his limbs.

“Look at me.” Rip’s voice caused all fight in her to cease. She moved around and held up her chin to light. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, but that didn’t help his blood pressure any. Rip grabbed his jacket and hat. “I’ll take care of this.” He closed the door. Kayce trailed behind him. “I said I’ll take care of this.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.” Kayce strode past him back to the bunkhouse.

The trio went inside to round everyone up. They had to go back and make a scene. They wanted to make a point to anyone who was watching. Kayce came over to Stella. He bent slightly at the knees to be more eye level with her and began to look her over.

“How the hell did you get involved?” He questioned her.

Stella tapped his hands away from her. She didn’t want to be touched. “Kayce knock it off. I’m fine. They threw my brother over the bar. Of course I was gonna hop in.”

Ryan squinted his eyes at the physical contact between the two. There was a slow sinking feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure what exactly was going on there, but he was afraid he could feel what was coming.

Kayce put his hands down defeated. “If you’re gonna be reckless, can you at least do it when I’m around?”

“No.”

“You not wanting to be saved is really puttin’ a hurtin’ on my chivalry here.”

Stella facetiously put her hand on her forehead and leaned into his chest. “Oh my knight in shining armor. Whatever shall I do?”

Kayce caught her and breathed a laugh. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and ruffled her hair. “Alright you shithead. Let’s go.”

Stella could hear the music from inside the bar. She really didn’t want to be back here, but she understood the point Rip was trying to make. She swung open the door on the left and propped it open with a stool. Making her way over to the bar, she hopped up for the high ground. The people in the room looked at her with befuddled faces.

The bull they had brought with them strolled its way into the bar. All the patrons started to freak out and stumbled and tripped over each other. They tried to make it through the door all at once. She made hup hup noises as she paced back and forth along the bar. Her main goal was to keep the bull moving.

The sight of Kayce and Rip coming into the bar brought her joy. That meant the bull was going to be put up, and the point had been made. Stella carefully hopped off the bar and began to push the bull toward Ryan, Colby, and Jake. Her brother rounded up next to her and took over.

Stella came to stand in front of Kayce by the door, while Rip made his way to the barkeep.

The bartender exclaimed. “What the fuck, Rip?”

“Maybe next time someone puts their hands on someone from the Yellowstone, you'll think to give me a fucking call.” Rip smashed a few bottles with his bat. Stella jumped at the sound. “Or have your bouncers break it up.”

“Or both.” Stella added. She noticed a change in Kayce’s eyes as he caught a glimpse of the bruise on Stella’s chin. She’d only seen that look from herself before.

“Or maybe next time I'll burn it down.” Kayce stated. Stella’s jaw snapped open and her eyebrows raised. She looked Kayce up and down as he walked away. Her cheeks felt hot. There had been something solid and dark in his voice that made it very apparent it wasn’t just a threat. It was a promise.

After they got home, Stella sat outside at the picnic tables when they got back to the ranch. The bunkhouse was too loud. She nursed her headache, enjoying the silence. It had been far too chaotic of an evening. It would be a great story later on, but her head at the moment was saying otherwise. The gravel behind her crunched. Someone cleared their throat. Turning around she saw that it was Rip.

“Jesus Stella-belle. I thought we had a talk about gettin’ into trouble?”

Stella chuckled. “Listen, I like to think that the kind of “trouble” I find myself in, is way better than some of the other kinds I could pick. Plus, this time wasn’t my fault.”

Rip sat on the bench next to her sideways. “How’s your chin?”

“It’s alright. It’s takin’ my mind off my arm and side. That bull got me good.”

Rip leaned forward. “Let me see.” Stella let him lift the side of her shirt. She heard him whistle softly as he took a glance at her side. He poked a few places to gauge whether it was bruised or broken. “Can you breathe okay?” He pulled her shirt back down.

“Yeah. I'm sure I'm just bruised all to hell. Doesn’t feel like anything is broken. I’m surprised I didn’t get my teeth busted though.”

“Are you sure you’re good to drive home? You know you’ve always got a place here.”

“Yeah I should be fine. If not, I’ll steal a bunk.” Stella made eye contact with him. “I promise.”

Rip smiled softly at her as he stood. “Okay. I’m gonna hold you to that.” He started to head out, but stopped. “Oh Kayce’s lookin’ for you by the way.”

“Where’s he at?” Stella started to get up.

“He said you’d know where he went. Whatever that means.”

Stella frowned. ‘I’d know? What the hell?’ She wandered to the barn. The lights were on, but no one was inside that she could see. The first few steps she took into the barn were slow. She didn’t want to throw an unnecessary punch at someone.

Abigail’s stall window wasn’t closed. Stella realized this as her mare’s head poked out. “What is this still doin’ open?” She rubbed the horse’s soft cheek. It wasn’t like Jimmy to forget one stall. Tank’s window was still open too. Looking around, Stella noticed they were only two open. She frowned. Tank was gone. Grabbing a hold of Abigail’s face, she softly asked her to take her to them.

If Kayce and Tank were indeed at the river, it was going to take Stella longer to reach them than normal. She had to keep Abigail at a slow, floaty trot. Her ribs killed her. No they weren’t broken, she was sure, but they damn sure let her know they were unhappy at the abuse from poker.

By the time she reached the river, she scanned along the bank while she tried to catch her breath. There wasn’t any sign of Kayce that she could see. Stella laughed and patted Abigail’s shoulder. “You just wanted to come to the river, didn’t you?”

Stella dismounted as gently as she could. There were sounds of discomfort that escaped her as she swung her leg and dropped down. Making sure she had a hold of her reins she turned around to look for Kayce. Or Tank even.

“What else happened to you from the bar?”

Stella squealed in fright. The scream caught in her throat. She didn’t want to let the whole state of Montana know she was out here. “Good lord Kayce!” Her hand gripped Abigail’s mane. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“It wasn’t just your chin, was it?”

“Actually, it was.”

“Then what’s got you hissing like a rattlesnake every time you move? Why’d you come up here at a slow trot?”

“Before the bar we played cowboy poker.”

“You really can’t resist being reckless when I’m not around, can you?”

“Let me reiterate from earlier.” Stella took a dramatic pause and cleared her throat. “No. And anyway, Avery and I won 50/50. All your boys split when that bull came a-knockin’.” She grinned smugly.

“Where’d you get hit?”

“My side and my arm. Nothin’s broken Kayce. Just bruised. I’ll be just fine.” He moved to come closer to her. It made her very aware that he was in her bubble. “No you can’t see. You won’t be able to see in the dark anyhow.”

Sighing, he gazed down at her. Stella looked up shyly. His sigh sounded disappointed. If this man had any grey hairs, she was probably at the root for a good bit of them. Kayce was reckless, yes. There was a level headedness about his version though. He took calculated risks. Stella just jumped.

“Kace, I’ll be fine. Just need some Tylenol, a shower, and good sleep. Which I should be heading home to do just that.” She moved back toward her mare.

He reached out and grabbed her arm gently enough to not hurt her, but firm enough to stop her. “Oh, no no no you don’t.”

Stella groaned. “I’m tired. I wanna go home. I wanna sleep in my own bed, not a bunk.” Her shoulders dropped in defeat.

“Then I’m takin’ ya.” He left no room for argument. He placed himself next to the bay roan with his hands cupped to give Stella a step up.

She relaxed in her saddle with a sigh. “Then how am I gonna get back here tomorrow?”

“Did I say I was gonna leave once I got there?”

“I mean, yeah, just invite yourself to stay a while, why don’tcha.” Stella sarcastically replied while Kayce got up in his saddle.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

[spideycatt]

Pretty n' Pink || 42!M.M x BlackFem!Reader

Synopsis:

New school, new people, new relationships

Word Count: 1.8k (wow!)

Song Recs: Talk that Talk // TWICE, RUN2U // stayc, Big flirt // lil hero, Super Bass // Nicki Minaj, Into you // Ariana Grande

Warnings: Crude language, bullying (me projecting (≧◡≦)), Miles is an asshole for 1 second, BLACK reader, 80% angst 20% fluff

Not rlly warnings: Reader is small n chubby, making out, we’re gonna act like they don’t have to wear blazers all the time lol

Lmk if I missed something!!

A/N: I spent so long writing and editing it was insane. I've been writing since June 26 (*￣▽￣). Literally writing one day, rewriting the next, writing and rewriting, writing and rewriting. AND I'm still not sure if I'm fucking w/ the results... but I'ma still post it cuz mama aint raise no punk!!

Moving to a new school in the middle of the year is never easy for anyone. You cried while packing up, you cried on the ride to New York, you cried while unpacking, and cried on the way to your new school, Visions Academy. Saying you were scared was an understatement.. You only moved because your mom got a new job at some science place, but also because you were horribly bullied at your old school.

Everyone made fun of you for the way you dressed, pink hair-clips all over your colorful braids, hello kitty sweaters and fun makeup looks. You once wore some cute leg warmers to school, what happened to you that day made you vow to never wear them again.

You knew you wouldn't get made fun of every time you left the house, but man going to school made you want to cower in your house forever.

But alas, here you are putting your up hair with your favorite heart-shaped claw-clip. You sniffled lightly as you line your lips and put on your Fenty lip gloss. You wipe your tears away, careful not to mess up your lashes. Grabbing your light pink messenger bag, you sling it over your shoulder and walk out the front door, making your way to school.

The more you walk the faster your heart beats. You weren't as nervous as you were when you first moved here, but you were still feeling a little anxious as you walk onto school grounds. Sighing when you realize there was no time to set up your locker, you try to hype yourself up as make your way through the sea of students to get to your homeroom.

Luckily, the school required uniforms, so even if kids were to make fun of you it shouldn't be that bad. You only had some cute accessories here and there, and a white cardigan with hello kitty over your heart.

You weren't even halfway to the class when someone bumped into your shoulder, causing you to drop all the books you held in your hands. You take a deep breath looking at whoever this boy was, trying to calm yourself down.

'It's ok, it was probably just an accident. You're fine.'

"Watch it, pinkie pie!" He yelled behind him as he walked away, laughing with his goons following behind him. So much for an accident.

'"Wow, how original." You spoke to yourself, trying to ignore all the stares you were getting as you picked your stuff up.

You rush to your class, already wishing the school day was over. And just your luck, the bell rang signaling you were late.

You made it to class a few seconds later, drawing everyone's attention to you. You walk over to the teacher's desk with your head pointed down, speaking softly.

"Hi, I'm y/n I just transferred."

The teacher looked at you uninterestedly, before speaking loudly.

"Class, this is y/n from, Georgia? Was it? Doesn't matter, she needs time to adjust, so everyone be nice to the poor girl. You can go sit next to..." She trailed off, looking around for a place to seat you.

"Sit next to Miles. Miles raise your hand."

You looked up to see a boy with two long braids raise his hand in the back of the class, honestly looking quite bored. You nod as you scurry to the empty seat next to him, taking out a piece of paper and your favorite gel pen. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Miles staring at you.

"What?" You whisper at him, trying not to draw more attention to yourself.

He blinks at you. "You the girl who dropped her books earlier?"

"Does it happen a lot or something?" You scoff at him, drawing cute little doodles to match the lesson title.

"Nah, I guess that was a dumb question." He replied, looking forward.

"Why do you ask anyway? Trying to rub salt in the wound?" You argue, looking at your hello kitty-themed nails.

"Miles, y/n. Please." Your teacher interrupted, making the class snicker.

You hide your face in your hands, silently groaning before Miles slid a note your way.

'Sit with me at lunch?'

You glared at the paper, crumbling at and putting it to the side, giving your full attention to the lesson.

You made it through your first few weeks without any more bumps, and it was now a new month. Miles had become your only sorta-friend at this school, which you were grateful for. The boy was nice to you, unlike everyone else, who give you strange stares and whisper about you like you aren't there.

The calming melody of Apple Cider by Beabadoobee played softly in your headphones as you grab your lunch tray. Thanking the lunch lady before turning around to look for where you should sit today, you suddenly remember Miles had asked you to sit with him on your first day, in which you never did.

You start walking around, subtly looking around the cafeteria for the tall boy with long braids. You spot him quickly, watching him roll his eyes at something the boy in front of him said. Strolling to where he was, you bite back a smile when he turns around and notices you.

"What brings you over here, hm?." He smirked, standing up as you approach the table. You try to ignore how he towers over you.

"Well, I have nowhere else to sit." You shrug, looking at his friends who watch quietly. "Uh, hi.." You wave awkwardly, looking back up at Miles who smirked softly at you.

"You shy, chiquita?"

"Shut up."

His friends laugh, making you swallow thickly. 'Are they laughing at me?'

"Yo, pinkie!"

Someone shouted from the table, chuckling as you look up with fear in your eyes.

"Remember me you little cunt?"

It was the boy from your first day. You look up at Miles, silently pleading him to help you, and of course, he stayed quiet.

"Hey, I'm talking to you." You hear from beside Miles, the boy looked down at you with an angry expression. You didn't even realize he walked up to you.

"S-sorry." You whispered, looking at your pink converses.

"Yea you better be fucking sorry you fat freak." He said, pushing you into the ground, resulting in your lunch landing all over the floor. You try to stop the tears as everyone gasps and goes silent.

"Dude, chill." Miles finally speaks up.

You shake your head, "No Miles, it's fine. Have a good lunch." You say with a slight whimper to your voice, standing up to leave the cafeteria.

You sob, looking for somewhere to cool down, ignoring Miles calling your name.

"Pinkie! Wait!"

You steps falter, flinching at the nickname. You sigh deeply, wiping the tears off your face.

"What do you want, Miles."

"I'm sorry about him, he's been an asshole since like, 2nd grade." He huffed out, slowing down as he caught up to you.

You hummed.

"But you just sat there, so what does that make you?"

His silence answered for you.

"Right. This sucks, honestly, I thought we could've worked out." You say, walking off with a lump in your throat.

You kind of expected him to say something more, you don't know why, but you did. But all you were met with was silence.

You gasped as you feel Miles grab your hand and drag you into an empty classroom.

He closed the door harshly behind you guys, breathing heavy as he looked at your tear streaked face.

"What are you doing Miles— WOAh-" You stutter out as he hoists you up, putting your back against the door so you could be eye-level with him.

"Forgive me pretty girl.." He breathed out, rubbing your plush thighs with his thumbs.

"Miles, put me down."

"Nah ma I don't think I will."

"How... how do I know you won't hurt me..?" You whisper sadly, feeling the waterworks coming again.

"Trust me, I won't, baby." He moved to wipe away the tear that's fallen on your soft cheek, before moving in to lock lips with you.

You wanted to move away, you really did. But you trusted him for some reason, kissing back. The kiss got heated fast, you lock your legs together behind Miles as he pins you harder against the door, gripping your thighs harshly as he pulls away to speak.

"Let me treat you right, ma. Please. I'll take you out, I'll buy you anything you want. Let me protect you." He breathed out against your neck, making you sigh. You nod your head. Bringing his head up to connect lips again.

You sigh into his mouth as your tongues slide over one another, gripping onto his broad shoulders to keep yourself grounded. He turns around to place you on a desk. Hands roaming everywhere as he took your sweater off your body and unbutton your shirt a little to mouth at your collarbones. You let out a quiet noise as he moves back up to your lips, pushing you to lay on your back.

He caught both your wrists and wrapped one of his hands around them, pushing them onto your chest as his tongue seemed to move even deeper into your mouth. Man he was a good kisser.

You seperate with a string of saliva connecting your plump lips to his when the bell to go back to class rings. "Miles, lets go." You said as he places his head into your cleavage, sighing disappointedly at the fact that you guys had to go back to class.

He ended up buttoning up your shirt for you. Glancing at you every now and then to look at your swollen lips, smiling as he helped you off the desk and walked you to class.

You make it through the rest of the school day, smiling softly to yourself whenever you think of your heated moment with Miles.

You had Miles' hoodie on due to a giant stain on the side of your favorite sweater, playing with the strings as you write down some notes into your binder.

Everyone stared at you but you found yourself not caring anymore. Maybe you made the right choice.

You didn't expect to go to this new school and acquire a bodyguard for a boyfriend but here you were weeks later walking out of campus with Miles trailing behind you. You could've sworn you saw that one boy glaring at you from afar, but honestly, as long as Miles was with you there wasn't a problem.

"Hold on baby." Your boyfriend stopped you, kneeling on the ground to tie your shoelaces and fix your leg warmers. Honestly this was a whole new experience for you, never having this affection given to you by someone outside your family.

Miles pressed a kiss on your thigh as he finishes tying your shoes, standing up to fix the ribbon on your ponytail.

"Miles, you're acting like a mom right now." You say giggling, looking up at your boyfriend with heart eyes.

"Gotta make sure my baby lookin good." He replied quickly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. He pulled "C'mon, I saw a nice jean skirt I wanna see you in."