#see i used to just do whatever on my old laptop it was garbage but this is brand new i cant risk anythi g happening to it

[eileennatural]

i wanna read nightwing night terrors soo bad but idk where to read new comics for free on w/o possibly getting like. a virus

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me?

I just finished this first part of my Eddie adopting Steve in his senior year after his fall from grace and wanted to put it up.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

*

“Mr Munson?” the teacher called.

Eddie’s head snapped to the front of the class from where it had been watching King Steve Harrington throwing up in the garbage can.

“When Mr Harrington is done spilling his guts, would you please take him to the nurse’s station?”

Eddie pointed at himself and mouthed the word “me?”

He looked around the classroom and was shocked to find that Steve’s friends were either trying not to look at him or were actually snickering.

The teacher sighed. “Yes. If you would please.”

“Yeah Munson,” someone called. “Freaks should stick together after all.”

Eddie made a note of who it was and vowed to never to sell to the asshole again. He stood up and walked to the back of the room. He knelt down next to Steve and put his hand on his back.

“Hey,” he murmured. “You okay?”

Steve looked up at him blearily. “Munson?”

Eddie looked up at the teacher. “Would it be okay if we take the bin with us? So we don’t disturb the rest of the class?”

The teacher nodded, looking relieved.

Eddie helped Steve to his feet and made sure the other boy had a good handle on the bin and gently walked him outside. The cool air of the hallway hit them like a truck. But Steve beside him sighed in relief.

Eddie finally got a good look at Steve’s face, blackened and bruised as it was. “Who did you in?”

Steve’s head lulled back like a rag doll. “Billy Hargrove.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up and led Steve over to the wall next to the door. Steve slid to the floor, clutching the bin.

“Aren’t you two on the basketball team or whatever?” Eddie asked, moving to sit next to him.

“The king is dead, all hail the king,” Steve slurred.

Eddie scoffed. At least someone was getting something from their history class because it sure the hell wasn’t him.

“With the second concussion in two years, I’m off the team anyway,” Steve continued.

“Second?” Eddie asked, his eyes wide. “What the hell have you been doing man?”

Steve’s eyes focused momentarily. “Picking fights with boys that can kick my ass because they’re picking on kids that can’t defend themselves.”

“Actual kids?” Eddie asked his opinion of Billy dropping further than it already was.

“Does a thirteen year old still count as a kid?” Steve asked seriously.

Fuck.

“Yeah, yeah it does,” Eddie replied softly.

“I have this kid that I watch once and while,” Steve murmured, “actually I watch a half dozen, but anyway. Lucas Sinclair is really good at basketball and he tried out for the team. Billy decided to be a racist bastard about it. I clocked him and he laid me out. Literally.”

“Is that the reason for the...?” he waved at the bin and Steve’s face.

“Yup,” Steve said, closing his eyes. “Did you know that the nausea and dizziness of concussion can last longer than the actual concussion? Because I sure the hell didn’t.”

Eddie winced. “You up for the trek to the nurse’s office yet?”

Steve opened his eyes and looked over at the other boy. “I worry it’s the moving that’s making me puke.”

Eddie blinked and the cocked his head. “That’s a fair assessment, but you won’t know until you try.”

Steve nodded and then hissed. Eddie got his arm under him and gently lifted him to his feet.

Steve moaned.

“You good?” Eddie asked.

“Give me second,” Steve mumbled. He breathed heavily, trying to stop the world from spinning. “Okay. Yeah.”

Eddie moved them slowly through the halls to the nurse’s station. He didn’t throw up once which Eddie counted as a win.

“Messers Munson and Harrington,” the nurse greeted. “What causes you to darken my step today?”

Eddie grinned. “Nurse Ratchet, what a pleasure it is to see you again. I am here under orders to bring King Steve to you as he up chucked his lunch in math class.”

“It’s Nurse Kincade to you, Munson,” she bit out. “Put him on the table.”

Eddie steered Steve over to the table and looked him over. Steve was sweating from the exersion which considering he was in better shape than Eddie was that was a problem.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Do you want me to stay?”

Steve looked up at him and gulped. “Nah, man. You need to get back to class. You don’t want to be caught associating with me anyway.”

Eddie reared his head back. He was pretty sure that was his line. But he knew better than to argue. So he held up his hands and backed away slowly, listening to Steve explain to the nurse what had happened. Eddie grabbed the bin and cleaned it out before he returned to class. He had briefly thought to leave as a prank. But they would know it was him and he promised his Uncle Wayne that he wouldn’t get detention this year.

And while he also knew Uncle Wayne meant the school year, the year of 1984 was ending and he could at least last that long.

He got back to class and stood at the door. He really didn’t want to go in but class had fifteen minutes left and that was too long for him to wait. So with a heavy sigh he yanked open the door.

The teacher clocked him immediately. “You left Mr Harrington alone?”

Eddie threw up his hands again. “Dude wanted me to leave, I know better than to overstay my welcome.”

The teacher rolled his eyes. “And yet, here you are in my class for the second year in a row.”

Eddie grinned. “Aww, teach. That’s not overstaying my welcome, that’s tenacity.”

“This is algebra Mr Munson, not English,” he moaned. “Please take your seat.”

He could hear the snickering behind him, but he didn’t care. He thought about a boy who looked after kids that were barely teenagers and took beatings for them, to protect them. He thought about mismatched hazel eyes, one almost swollen shut. He thought about the inherent kindness of a beat down soul and wondered what made him kind in this cruel world.

*

Eddie spotted Steve at lunch, sitting by himself, pushing the food around on his tray. He was probably still feeling nauseous. He went to the vending machine and got ginger ale. As he passed by Steve, he looked at the bottle in his hand.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “I wanted a Coke. Hey, Harrington, you like ginger ale?”

Steve’s head snapped up in shock. “Uh, yeah. I’ve been known to like it on occasion.”

Eddie tossed it at him. “Here, you have it.”

He went and sat down by his friends. All three of them were juniors but he been friends with them since the talent show in middle school. They were in a band together called Corroded Coffin and they were pretty damn good if he thought so himself.

“What was that about, man?” Jeff asked.

Eddie turned to Jeff. He knew of all the boys at this table would understand why he threw Harrington a bone. He leaned in close so only his friends could hear.

“Harrington got his bell rung by Hargrove for protecting the Sinclair boy,” he whispered.

All three boys lifted their heads to look over at Steve who was sipping the ginger ale and starting to eat a little.

They hunched back into their circle.

“Looks like Hargrove got him good,” Gareth said. “What was the ginger ale for?”

“It’s good for nausea,” Eddie whispered. “He threw up in math class and I had to take him to the nurse’s station.”

“But I thought Carol and them were in that class, too,” Brian murmured.

Eddie shook his head. “They are, man. But Steve’s on the outs with the whole lot.”

Jeff frowned. “I didn’t think that Mr Harrington would have let his boy hang out with the Sinclairs.”

Eddie looked over at Steve and then back down to his friends. “I’m only telling you what he told me.”

His friends nodded. Whatever was going on, the Corroded Coffin boys were too far down the social ladder to be in the know.

Eddie looked over at the lonely boy one more time. Something didn’t feel right. Something else was going on, something darker. One didn’t simply go from the top of the social elite to less than the weirdos overnight for nothing. And Eddie was going to find out what.

Now with part 2 and part 3 part 4 part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9  Part 10 Part 11  Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

[pb-dot]

A little hardware rant

So today I went to a local electronics retailer to look for some thermal paste to soothe my poor overworked CPU's temperature problems. This, being a bit of a departure from the store's usual fare of prebuilt electronics actively hostile to modification, repair, or upgrades, I found no logical place for the thing, so I had to wander around a bit while waiting for someone who worked there to have a spare moment between hocking overpriced laptops to help me out on this.

So, being the impeccably efficient and very reasonable young man that I am, I decided to kill some time by browsing for a new keyboard. It's sad to say, but my current one has been with me since the days of the Party Rock Anthem, and it's getting a bit long in the tooth. So, what could this unnamed major Scandinavian electronics retailer offer me? Well, as it turned out my search would be more frustrating than I anticipated.

When it comes to pc parts, I'm reasonably utilitarian. As long as it lets me do what I want to do, it's doing its job. Keyboards are different though. I have preferences. As a writer, I like my keyboards to have the three following features:

Intuitive layout with some slight spacing between the letters to facilitate easier cleaning

A wired USB connection, this is non-negotiable. I don't want to fiddle with Bluetooth or whatnot.

No foofaraw. No fancy extra buttons, no lights, no fiddly gimmicks.

Now, do you want to know how many keyboards fulfilled all of my criteria in this big ol' store? Exactly none. I found an ergonomic one that seemed nice but was, unfortunately, wireless and one that was wired and had nice key placements but unfortunately also had this regrettable "Gamer"-branding and my old nemesis LEDs.

Now, if I may ask, what exactly is the purpose of LEDs on a keyboard? Are there scores of people who'd love to game in the dark if they could only see their input devices? It just seems alien to me since my ideal input device just lets me get into the zone while writing and stay there without disturbing me. This is, as one might expect, a taller task for a keyboard with pulsing RGB light and a dedicated button for playing the 2012 Skrillex hit Bangarang or whatever.

What frustrates me most about this is that I don't think my demands are particularly extravagant and that I assumed that having access to a wide range of Products was supposed to be the draw of living in this here late-capitalist hellscape that we navigate on the daily. It isn't the case though, as the selection of products that are deemed Most Profitable to sell to us narrows further and further. Sure, The Man could sell you parts to upgrade or repair your PC, but that's not as good of a deal (for them) as just selling you prebuilt underperformers that burst into flames if you even look at them with a screwdriver in hand. Similarly, there's no reason to say every goddamn keyboard has to be wireless now, but wireless tech is cheap enough (and harder for amateurs to repair) so it goes in everything. I'm convinced that is the reason you basically can't find high-end wired earbuds anymore.

Now, this is perhaps getting into a slightly conspiratorial headspace, but I do think there's something to this trend of consumer goods being less tailored to the needs of consumers and more kind of pushed through to the customer, which I don't love. Hell, I don't love the Faustian bargain of "live in an unsustainable unfair system that does a fuckery to our biosphere but you have infinite varieties of consumer goods to choose from to distract you," in the first place, but when that slowly gets replaced with "buy our garbage peasant" before my eyes, I can't help but wonder if I'm being played for an absolute fool.

So in short, capitalism bad, it's surprisingly hard to find the keyboard you want, perhaps the discontent of the masses should topple the fat cats of the world, turns out the place didn't have thermal paste in the first place, eat the rich, you know, that kind of stuff.

[knockyasocksoff2022]

Executive Dazai

(A/N: R.I.P. me trying to write comedy! Also sorry for any typos sometimes I miss things. Anyway let's gooo)

Under cut due to length (4,154 words)

Atsushi's P.O.V

"Gah! Where is that slacker!?" I hear Kunikida-san mumbling from his desk. He holds a stack of reports, and I walk over to offer to help fill some.

He sees me, an angry look in his eyes. I know it isn't for me but it's still intimidating. "Yah, Atsushi-kun!" I can't help jumping at his raised voice.

"Y-yes Kunikida-san?"

"Have you seen Dazai recently?" His phrasing is formal as usual but his tone is full of all the anger and frustration and exasperation that comes from working with the suicidal detective.

"No . . . you don't think something's happened to him, do you?"

He huffs, adjusting his eyeglasses and crosses something out in his notebook. (There goes his schedule.) "No, I'm sure that he is fine, but these reports need to be filled."

"Oh, okay then. I can just do Dazai-san's report for now."

"You are too kind Atsushi, you shouldn't enable him."

"Well, I-I . . . I just want to help out is all."

Kunikida-san shakes his head but lets me take the reports.

—-------- Three Days later —-------

It's been a week since anyone has heard anything from Dazai-san. I trust Kunikida-san, but I'm starting to get worried for my mentor. Kunikida-san is not worried . . . he's FURIOUS!!!

At first he ignored it, saying that that fool can do whatever the hell he wants and it's no matter to him, but the paperwork is piling up and most of the other members who've finished all of their work, paper or otherwise, are on vacation this week.

Yosano is going to some spa resort with one of her friends.

Ranpo is going to Disney World with Poe.

Kenji is visiting his grandparents back in his hometown, for the summer festival. He promised to bring back the biggest watermelon he can find.

The Tanazakis are going camping.

Kunikida doesn't know how to take breaks.

I'm helping him because I have nowhere to go and not enough money even if I did have somewhere to go. -^T-T^-

Dazai-san is nowhere to be seen.

"Have you just tried calling Dazai-san?"

"You think he picks up?" I can tell his question is a rhetorical one.

"He- he hung up on you? But . . .?"

"He has no respect, the useless fool."

"Oh." I don't really know what I should say to that. "You know Kunikida-san, maybe, you could just go to his house or something."

His head perks up, "Ah yes, Atsushi-kun! That is a great idea! Why didn't I think of that?" He adjusts his glasses and I smile at the praise. Kunikida's face falls. "But we don't have his address."

"Really? I thought everyone lived in the dorms?"

"No, not Dazai. For all I know he sleeps on a futon under a big tree in some park."

"Whaaa!"

"Or a shack, maybe a garbage bin, I bet he finds that nice and cosy."

"Dazai-san is homeless!" I say, not believing the words.

Kunikida-san only laughs, "Pffft! That idiot is richer than all of us, of course he has a home. I just don't know where it is. Well . . . it wouldn't be surprising if he just chooses to be homeless though. I wonder . . ." He opens his laptop, searching for a list of known street vagrants/beggars in Yokohama.

"Damn! Nothing. Now where could that bastard possibly live?"

We're both very invested at this point so we dig up the company employee records, thankfully Kunikida-san insists on keeping neat, meticulous ones. 

"Oh, look at this. An address not far from here."

"Let's go." Kunikida-san is already out the door, he looks ready to beat the crap out of Dazai-san when we find him.

—

We pull up at the small olive green house. It doesn't look like where someone rich would live but it looks cosy (certainly more so than a bin).

Kunikida-san jumps out of the car and starts pounding on the door. "Dazai, open up you sorry brat! We know you're in there! Come out RIGHT THIS INSTANT SO I CAN BEAT YOU WITH MY NOTEBOOK!!!" I can practically see the idealist's veins bulging.

The door opens and out steps . . . an old lady.

Kunikida-san and I both flush tomato red with embarrassment. 

"Well, hello. Aren't you two girls pretty? I don't have my wallet just now. If you'll give me a moment to get it, I'd be happy to buy some cookies from you." She disappears back into the house leaving Kunikida-san and I confused.

"Wha-"

She comes back smiling at Kunikida-san, "So what types of cookies do you two ladies have today?"

"Um actually ma'am, we're not Girl Guides*."

(A/N: *Girl Scouting was first introduced to Japan by Miss Muriel Greenstreet, a British missionary teacher, in 1919. The Movement gradually spread and in 1920 took the name Nihon Joshi Hododan (Girl Guides of Japan))

"Oh." she looks disappointed, "Well that's alright, how may I help you."

"For starters, my colleague and I are both very sorry for causing such a ruckus earlier. We thought someone else was dwelling here. We're looking for that person, a man named Dazai Osamu. We believe he used to live here."

"Oh, Dazai-san. Ah, yes he and his husband were such nice people. They helped me set up the house after I bought it from them. I always wonder what's happened to them."

Neither of us understand her words. Kunikida-san finally breaks the silence. "His . . . husband?"

"Oh yes, a lovely boy. Strangest hair I've ever seen but a great kid. They said they were buying a bigger house somewhere less crowded. Just out of the city I think, I always told them that there was nothing much there, lot's of crime, but they were determined. Something to be said about youth, I suppose." She smiles fondly, as if thinking of her own children.

We're both shocked at this news but we can't exactly question her.

"Thank you, for your help ma'am, if you know the exact name of the place could you please write it down."

"Oh yes, sure thing. Nothing bad has happened to them, right?"

Kunikida-san hesitates, "No."

"Oh good." she says handing him the piece of paper. He nods and we both bow, he sticks the paper in his notebook.

"Good day ma'am." I tell her and she waves sweetly.

—

When we're back in the car I sigh. "Well that was . . . unexpected. I had no idea Dazai-san liked men. You wouldn't know the way he flirts with that waitress downstairs, I wonder if his husband minds. Gosh, I still can't believe Dazai-san is married." I know I'm rambling but Kunikida-san doesn't tell me to shut up. He must be as surprised as I am. "Is his name even Dazai. Is that his birth name or did he change it after marriage. I wonder if they have children."

Kunikida-san shrugs, looking down at the paper with the name of the neighbourhood that the old woman gave us. He slams the brakes and several people honk at us. 

"What is it, Kunikida-san?"

"This address. It's in Port Mafia territory."

"Oh well, aren't there a few neighbourhoods on that side of the city? I'm sure it's just a coincidence, I mean he moved there a long time ago so he probably didn't know at the time. Maybe they didn't have that territory yet."

Kunikida-san's voice is a whisper as people swerve angrily around us. "It's right in the heart. Only about a 15 minutes drive from the Mafia's Headquarters."

"Oh. Well the house was probably built before the Mafia headquarters so he must not have known when he bought it, right?" I say not believing myself as I fight to think of a reasonable explanation to this bizarre situation, "What should we do?"

"We are detectives. we must investigate further." He says determinedly.

"Alright." I gulp at the thought of entering the notorious Mafia's territory. What if we run into Akutagawa? The thought makes me shiver and my leg prickles with the memory of the pain when the Rashoumon user sliced it clean off.

—

I keep my gaze out the window, watching the scenery slowly darken, watching houses become warehouses and industrial buildings as we travel further into Mafia territory. 

No one's tried to stop us . . . yet.

Thankfully Kunikida-san's car is rather inconspicuous. He parks it behind an abandoned warehouse and gets out. I follow his lead, but there's nothing to see besides storage facilities and factories

"Kunikida-san?" I ask nervously, a disturbing thought occurring to me, "you don't think that Dazai-san lives in a Port Mafia warehouse do you?" 

"It does seem like the thing one would do if they had a death wish," I almost squeak in fear but then I remember our surroundings.

Determined Kunikida-san keeps walking. Eventually we leave the area where most of the storage facilities are. There's an overgrown lot, but it looks somehow purposeful, like the wildflowers were planted and then allowed to grow this way.

We walk a bit through the tall flowers and then see it. A wearhouse, only it's fancier. It has nice glass windows with modern looking flower boxes and the corrugated steel siding is painted an even matte black, no grime or rust in sight. 

The shades are down but I can tell that lights are on because a warm yellow glow seeps out from them into the night. Above the original warehouse the owners have built an addition that looks like those modern homes you see in fancy magazines. A small white box not big enough to be a house on its own but still bigger than my dorm back at the agency. But the shades are down there too, so I can't see inside.

There's a garage just a little away from the house with tire tracks that suggest it's used often, but there are three individual tire tracks. One set from a car and one from what appears to be half a car. A motorbike? Dazai-san doesn't use one, maybe his mystery husband does?

"Is this really the only house around, Kunikida-san?"

"Yes I believe so." He says as we walk closer. 

Then, I see a noose rigged on a post in the front yard, and I know this must be Dazai-san's home.

At this point we're both tired and even Kunikida-san doesn't seem to have the energy to be angry at Dazai-san. Also it's such a nice calming house that it's hard to be angry here, although I'm sure Kunikida-san will find the will to be angry as soon as Dazai-san opens the door.

The door is nice, with a seasonal wreath of pine tree clippings and dried fall leaves and a lamp. The doormat says "Welcome"in big lettering with a tiny "(Just kidding, fuck off)" at the bottom, both in fancy cursive script.

Kunikida-san knocks, there's no answer. He knocks again, still nothing. Then once more, we hear two male voices, one Dazai-san's and another sounding familiar but distorted, then there's footsteps.

Dazai-san opens the door, wearing only a jumper and trousers, looking strange without his usual outfit. "Oh, it's you. I'm almost offended that you didn't notice my absence until now. I guess this proves you really don't need me for the paperwork. However it is a lot quieter here than at the office." He turns to me, the smug grin off his face replaced with a soft smile, clearly to spite Kunikida-san, "Sorry for keeping you waiting at the door, Atsushi-kun. Chibi didn't want to let me go."

"Chibi." I question, I think I've heard the name somewhere . . . but where?

"Ah, yes, my husband. He is rather short, you see, my very own dog."

"Do-" I start to ask about the nickname, but I'm cut off.

"I h-he-he'TSHIii-e'shiewww *sniff* heard that you bastard! *cough, cough, cough*" A congested voice from upstairs echoes. I swear for some reason that it's familiar. But why, it couldn't possibly be?

Dazai-san looks personally offended, "My love, you need to rest. You mustn't over exert yourself." he calls up the staircase. There's more footsteps and someone stomps down the staircase (I swear I can feel the ground beneath me shake just a little), coming into view slowly. His face is covered by the hood of a hoodie and a mask.

"I. Amb. Fucgkig. Fide." now that their closer I can tell that the voice is male, his words muffled as he barely conceals coughs into his elbow. Standing next to each other I can see what Dazai-san meant, his husband at full height comes only just above his shoulder.

"Hmm, Chibi doesn't sound fine." The worry is clear in Dazai-san's voice as he puts a hand on his husband's forehead. It's strange to see him being so caring and gentle like this.

Dazai-san's husband sniffs indignantly. "I'mb fide edough to kick your sorry ass!" His sickly tone and the way he sways on his feet contradict his words. 

Again I feel as if I recognized his voice but that isn't possible because I've never met him before. I mean, maybe I've seen him at the supermarket before and just didn't notice but it seems unlikely because I don't think I can afford the fancy supermarkets that people who live in this kind of house can shop at. I shop at the corner store. -^T-T^- (Your donations are very much welcome).

(A/N: Send our favourite -^weretiger^- boi some ¥en in the comments pls, so he can shop at a real supermarket lol. He's trying his best! Also if any of Chuuya's dialogue appears misspelt that's because I'm trying to show he is heavily congested. It probably just looks like I can't type, but I'm trying.)

Dazai-san puts his arm around his husband's waist to steady him. "You still have a temperature love, I really must insist that you go back to bed. I'll be there as soon as I deal with these visitors."

At the word visitors Dazai-san's husband looks up at us. I can see his face a bit more now just a sliver of fair faintly freckles skin and a set of piercing blue eyes. A foreigner? He speaks Japanese very well, he must have been here a long time. 

I wonder where he's originally from. Somewhere in Europe maybe? The United Kingdom, France, Germany, it can't be Holand because Dutch people are tall.

"Oh. It's you two. The detegdives." He says it with an amount of disdain in his voice that sounds rather unwarranted given that he's never even met us before. "Kindly, ged out ob by house." Despite the stuffiness of his voice it still scares me. I can see the threat in his eyes. It's almost . . . familiar. I know I have seen this look somewhere, but where? How did he know we're detectives, does Dazai-San talk about us at home? I guess it makes sense.

"Ah, yes." I can tell from Kunikida-san's voice that he feels the fear too, "We'll leave as soon as Dazai here tells us what he's been doing cutting work for the past week."

"A week! Preposterous!" Dazai-san exclaims, "It's only been three days."

"That's almost a full work week you FOOL!" Kunikida-san is close to exploding again. I really hope this doesn't escalate, I'd hate to leave a bad impression on Dazai-san's husband.

"Anyways, this is a lovely house you have. It must be scary though, living so close to Mafia territory." I ask hoping to redirect the conversation away from animosity and get some answers from Dazai-san. I think he can tell what I'm doing.

"Thank you for the compliments Atsushi-kun, I'm glad you like it." His politeness confuses me at first then I realise he must be teasing Kunikida-san. "But no actually, we feel very safe living here." He's gigling as he says it.

"Really?" I can't hide my surprise.

Dazai-san hmms in affirmation, he's about to say more when his husband shivers.

"Is Chibi cold?"

His husband says nothing.

"Yes, it is very cold, you shouldn't be so close to the open door, you'll only make your cold worse."

The husband looks like he wants to protest but retreats into the house anyways.

Dazai-san turns back to Kunikida-san and I.

"It really isn't a good idea to be letting all the warm air out, why don't you two come inside. Atsushi, would you like something warm to drink?" Dazai-san's voice drips with teasing sweetness and I don't miss how he disregarded Kunikida in his offer of refreshments.

"Um, I'm okay."

Dazai-san gives me a look, he knows me too well. "I promise you it's no trouble at all, I'm making Chibi and myself tea as well."

"Thank you."

He shuts the door behind us and we walk through the open floor to the kitchen counter where Dazai-san's husband is sitting.

"This really is a very nice house." I say because I can't think of anything else that wouldn't be considered rude.

Dazai-san's husband groans, "Why'd you led themb comb indside? Tha kid is gibing bme a headache."

Dazai-san pats his head affectionately, "Aw is Chibi pouting?"

His husband growls, or tries to but it comes out as a cough.

Dazai-san continues, "I let them in because it's the polite thing to do. Don't worry, I know dogs have no manners."

Dazai-san's husband huffs in annoyance I can tell isn't completely genuine. The interaction seems familiar, personal and I feel like I'm intruding so I look away.

When I turn I see the stand where the coats are kept.

It's a perfectly normal hatstand with seven "branches". The highest holds a long, tan trench coat, the second highest holds another trench coat, shorter than Dazai-san's and black with brown lapels . . . and hooked on top of the stand is an equally familiar black hat with brown trim.

This outfit I'd know anywhere even with the rest missing. The sight itself strikes fear into my heart, if the outfit is here it's owner must not be very far off. I scan the room making sure the mafia Executive won't suddenly appear and attack.

"Atsushi-kun!"

"What?" I ask, just registering that dazai-san has been calling my name.

"Your tea is ready. Is something the matter?"

"Why do you have Executive Nakahara-san's coat and hat? Did you steal them from him or something, because you should probably give them back, I bet he's mad. And since you live so close to the Port Mafia and all . . ." the sentence dies in my mouth when I notice the expression dazai-san wears.

He stares at me for a moment, cocking his head in a cat-like manner, and then he bursts out laughing.

"Dazai-san! How can you laugh, Executive Nakahara-san might really hurt you!" I try to emphasise the exact level of danger that my mentor has put himself in but he doesn't seem to get it.

Dazai-san's husband is laughing as well at this point but it trunks into vicious coughing and draws all our attention away from the predicament for a moment. 

"Be gentle with your throat, love, you have such a pretty voice."

When Dazai-san's husband recovers his breath he turns around to me with a look of incredulity. "Is dis kid jogkig?" Dazai-san's husband somehow still manages to sound sarcastic even through the congestion.

"I don't think so, my love, have your tea."

"I deed wine if I'm godda dead with dis shid."

Dazai-san shakes his head stubbornly, "Nu-uh! No alcohol for sick Chibis."

"Ugh, den ged themb oud, I wand to sleeb."

"Aww, but we haven't even told them yet."

Dazai-san's husband frowns.

"Come on, I'll give you a massage if you stay up just a bit more, hmm?"

"Fide!"

"Umm, told us what, Dazai-san? What about Executive Nakahra's coat and hat?"

He looks at me like he's forgotten we were here but it's obviously an act.

"Oh, yes, that. I didn't steal it, and it's actually Executive Dazai now."

"Wha-" my brain short circuits

Kunikida seems to process this faster than I do.

"You've joined the Port Mafia? Why!? How long have you been a double agent!?" Kunikida tries to lunge for Dazai-san but he's on the ground before I can blink. I see the surprise in dazai's eyes, he hadn't been expecting this.

I try to slow my thoughts down so I can fully observe the situation.

Dazai-san's husband stands with his foot on Kunikida-san's chest, the hood of his sweatshirt fallen down displaying his bright red hair with its unique cut. These features I'd know anywhere. Kunikida-san's eyes bulge practically out of their socket, he sputters under the weight of the man.

I scream in delayed reaction to the Gravity Manipulator's sudden appearance. Everyone turns to face me, they all look down so I do too, My feet and hands have turned into paws from the shock.

Even Executive Nakahara looks startled.

"Well, that was unexpected, but my love, you're still ill, now is hardly the time for fighting."

My love? What is going on here? 

Executive Nakahara steps away, leaning heavily on Dazai-san Kunikida-san scrambles to his feet, notebook brandishing out in front of him like a sword.

"What are you doing here?"

"He lives here," Dazai-san says simply, "He's Executive Dazai, not me. Don't you worry Kunikida, my loyalties are still firm. I am loyal to Chuuya, not the Port Mafia."

Kunikida-san looks ready to blow up so I ask the obvious next question.

"Why is Naka- Chuuya-san using your last name, is he trying to make a fake identity?"

No, Chuuya took my last name. Such a thieving chibi!" my mentor laughs, "Actually, I gave it to him."

Kunikida-san's eyes roll back in his head and he falls to the floor with a dull thud.

I start to go over to him but my mentor waves his hand dismissively, "Leave him there."

"You debanded I tage it, you basdard!" the Mafai executive corrects, sounding sicker than ever.

My mentor ignores his words, planting a kiss over on top of his head. "Anyway, there are many ways these things are decided in same gender marriages but since I'm taller than Chibi it was only logical that he take my name."

The Executive all but growls. It all falls into place, I should've known. Dazai-san always calls Chhuya-san Chibi when we have to work with the Port Mafia on missions. I feel stupid, it should have been obvious as soon as I saw the blue eyes and red hair.

"And to answer your original question, that is why his coat is here. We don't feel unsafe here because everyone is afraid of us, also the added convenience of being close to Chibi's job."

"Why are they afraid of you Dazai-san?" as the question comes out I wonder if I should clarify who I'm directing the question to.

"Oh, I used to be in the Port Mafia."

"WHATTT!!!???" these words have snapped Kunikida-san out of his unconscious spell

"Ah, the idealist finally awakens. I hope your little fainting spell hasn't messed up your schedule too badly." Dazai-san mocks

Kunikida-san struggles to get himself upright, his face as red as when "Well, Mafia or no, where have you been for the past week."

"Three days" Dazai-san corrects again.

Kunikida-san clenches his notebook tighter as if he's imagining strangling his collage, I think he might be.

"Isn't it obvious?" dazai-san asks the room

Neither Kunikida-san nor I answer.

"My beloved Chibi here has come down with a most nasty cold. I could hardly leave him home alone to suffer in this state, now could I?" He massages Chuuya's shoulders as he asks the rhetorical question. I can see the executive starting to sink into sleep.

He looks so harmless and I really do feel badly for him. 

"I see, we're– I'm sorry for intruding. I, uh, hope you feel better Chuuya-san."

"Thank you, Atsushi-kun–" dazai-san is cut off by footsteps on the stairs, small and light, not at all like Chuuya's aggressive stomp.

"Father? Papa?" A small boy stands on the landing leaning sleepily against the railing. His hair is dark brown and his eyes are large hazel orbs of innocence. He can't be older than five. He holds a toy slingshot and it's aimed right at me.

"My, my, what is Saku-chan doing up so late?" Dazai-san coos sweetly at the boy who comes down the stairs, slingshot still aimed, ready to fire. His father laughs, "Put that down, this is Atsushi-kun, he just stopped by for a visit."

"Oh. Sowy 'sushi" His sleep-induced slur and baby talk make the words utterly adorable.

"It's fine." I tell the young boy.

"Is Kyu-chan awake as well?"

"No." 

"Oh that's good, I'd hate for all this yelling to hurt their ears."

He turns back to me, laughing as he catches the sleeping executive as he slips to the floor. "Thank you for visiting Atsushi, but I'm afraid we're all a bit tired this late at night."

Dazai-san's sudden manners take me by surprise. "Oh, of course, Kunikida and I shouldn't overstay our welcome. You four?" Dazai-san nods in confirmation, "have a very good night."

"And you as well."

I nod, taking the hand of a dazed Kunikida-san and leading him out of the door. Tonight was certainly interesting. 

(A/N: Sorry about this ending I was having loads of trouble with it. It isn't as intense as I would've liked on the relationship reveal part. I guess my brain was just in fluff mode, but I'm not upset about the way this turned out, I guess. I may edit later. If you like it pls let me know. Also for clarification Soukoku has two kids, Sakunosuke (named after Oda) and Q is also their kid in this fic.)

[respectable-username]

🔐 Why You (Probably) Don't Need A VPN

A rant by a software engineer sick of VPN ads from her favourite YouTubers

TL;DR:

Here are some legitimate reasons the average internet user might want to use a VPN:

To connect to their company's internal network

To bypass the Great Firewall of China (or other types of website blocks at country or organisation level)

To watch Netflix etc as if you were in another country

Here are absolutely rubbish reasons to use a VPN:

Privacy

And today, I'll tell you why.

Hang on, won't a VPN stop hackers from stealing my passwords?

I mean, it does encrypt the web traffic coming from your device.

You know what else encrypts web traffic coming from your device? Your browser.

Yes, in the year 2021, pretty much all websites on the internet are accessed over HTTPS. The "S" stands for "secure", as in "your request will be securely encrypted". If your browser is using HTTPS, nobody can capture the data you're sending over the internet. More detail in the "I like too much detail" section at the bottom of this post.

It's very easy to check if you are using HTTPS by looking at your URL bar. In most browsers, it will have a lock on it if secure:

(From top left to bottom right: Chrome on iOS, Safari on iOS, Chrome on Windows, Edge on Windows, Firefox on Windows, and Safari on Mac. Screenshots reflect the UI at the time this post was written. Oh gosh this has taken over 4 hours to write.)

But isn't moar encryption better? What if somebody breaks HTTPS?

For starters, nobody's breaking your HTTPS, and there isn't any benefit from double encrypting. This is because of the maths behind encryption/decryption!

Encryption works kinda like a lock and key, except the lock is maths and the key is a special number only known to the person allowed to unlock the information.

The important thing is, without the key, all the locked data looks like complete and utter garbage. Completely unusable. Barely distinguishable from random noise. There's absolutely no way to tell what the original data was.

The other important thing is that the key is nearly unguessable. As in, with current technology, will generally take more than the lifetime of the universe to guess by chance. And when technology gets faster, we just make the numbers bigger again until they're once again secure.

For any major website you use, they will use a strong encryption algorithm (ie lock) with big numbers so your keys will be strong enough to withstand an attack. This means your data is safe as long as that lock icon is in your URL bar.

A VPN will not make the existing garble any more garbled. The extra $10/month or whatever you're paying for does not buy you any extra protection.

If you want to know more about how encryption and HTTPS in particular work, see the "I like too much detail" section at the end of this post.

Something something viruses

How's a VPN going to stop viruses? It controls the path your internet traffic takes, not the content that gets sent down that path. I guess it could block some known virus-giving hosts? But if it's known to the VPN provider, it's probably also known to the built-in antivirus on your computer who can block it for you.

(Oh yeah, 3rd party antivirus is another thing that's not worth paying for these days. Microsoft's built-in Windows Defender is as good as the third party options, and something something Macs don't get viruses easily because of how they're architected.)

Honestly though, keep your software up to date, don't click on anything suspicious, don't open files from sources you don't trust, and you'll be right most of the time.

And keep your software up to date. Then update your software. Hey, did I mention keeping your stuff updated? Update! Now! It only takes a few minutes. Please update to the latest version of your software I'm begging you. It's the number 1 way to protect yourself from viruses and other malware. Most major software attacks could have been prevented if people just updated their damn software!

But my ISP is spying on me!

Ok, it is true that there are TWO bits of data that HTTPS can't and won't hide. Those are:

The source of a request (your IP)

What website that request is going to (the website's IP)

These are the bits of information that routers use to know where to send your data, so of course they can't be hidden as the data is moving across the internet. And people can see that information very easily if they want to.

Note: this will show which website you're going to, but not which page you're looking at, and not the content of that page. So it will show that you were on Tumblr, but will not show anyone that you're still reading SuperWhoLock content in 2021.

It's this source/destination information that VPNs hide, which is why they can be used to bypass website blocks and region locks.

By using a VPN, those sniffing traffic on your side of the VPN will just show you connecting to the VPN, not the actual website you want. That means you can read AO3 at work/school without your boss/teachers knowing (unless they look over your shoulder of course).

As for those sniffing on the websites end, including the website itself, they will see the VPN as the source of the connection, not you. So if you're in the US and using a VPN node in the UK, Netflix will see you as being in the UK and show you their British library rather than the American one.

If this is what you're using a VPN for and you think the price is fair, then by all means keep doing it! This is 100% what VPNs are good for.

HOWEVER, and this is a big "however", if it's your ISP you're trying to hide your internet traffic from, then you will want to think twice before using a VPN.

Let me put it this way. Without a VPN, your ISP knows every website you connect to and when. With a VPN, do you know who has that exact same information? The VPN provider. Sure, many claim to not keep logs, but do you really trust the people asking for you to send them all your data for a fee to not just turn around and sell your data on for a profit, or worse?

In effect, you're trading one snooper for another. One snooper is heavily regulated, in many jurisdictions must obey net neutrality, and is already getting a big fee from you regardless of where you browse. The other isn't. Again, it's all a matter of who you trust more.

For me personally, I trust my ISP more than a random VPN provider, if for no other reason than my ISP is an old enough company with enough inertia and incompetence that I don't think they could organise to sell my data even if they wanted to. And with the amount of money I'm paying them per month, they've only got everything to lose if they broke consumer trust by on-selling that data. So yeah, I trust my ISP more with my privacy than the random VPN company.

But my VPN comes with a password manager!

Password managers are great. I 100% recommend you use a password manager. If there's one thing you could do right now to improve your security (other than updating your software, speaking of, have you updated yet?), it's getting and using a password manager.

Password managers also come for free.

I'm currently using LastPass free, but am planning to switch after they did a bad capitalism and only let their free accounts access either laptop or mobile but not both now. I personally am planning to move to Bitwarden on friends' recommendation since it's not only free but open source and available across devices. I also have friends who use passbolt and enjoy it, which is also free and open source, but it's also a bit DIY to set up. Great if you like tinkering though! And there are probably many other options out there if you do a bit of googling.

So, yeah, please use a password manager, but don't pay for it unless you actually have use for the extra features.

No I really need to hide my internet activity from everybody for reasons

In this case, you're probably looking for TOR. TOR is basically untraceable. It's also a terrible user experience for the most part because of this, so I'd only recommend it if you need it, such as if you're trying to escape the Great Firewall. But please don't use it for Bad Crimes. I am not to be held liable for any crime committed using information learned from this post.

Further reading viewing

If you want to know more about why you don't need a VPN, see Tom Scott's amazing video on the subject. It's honestly a great intro for beginners.

I like too much detail

Ahhh, so you're the type of person who doesn't get turned off by long explanations I see. Well, here's a little more info on the stuff I oversimplified in the main post about encryption. Uhh, words get bigger and more jargony in this section.

So first oversimplification: the assumption that all web traffic is either HTTP or HTTPS. This isn't exactly true. There are many other application layer internet standards out there, such as ssh, ftp, websockets, and all the proprietary standards certain companies use for stuff such as streaming and video conferencing. Some of these are secure, using TLS or some other security algorithm under the hood, and some of them aren't.

But most of the web requests you care about are HTTP/HTTPS calls. As for the rest, if they come from a company of a decent size that hasn't been hacked off the face of the planet already, they're probably also secure. In other words, you don't need to worry about it.

Next, we've already said that encryption works as a lock and a key, where the lock is a maths formula and the key is a number. But how do we get that key to lock and unlock the data?

Well, to answer that, we first need to talk about the two different types of encryption: symmetric and asymmetric. Symmetric encryption such as AES uses the same key to both encrypt and decrypt data, whereas asymmetric encryption such as RSA uses a different key to encode and decode.

For the sake of my writing, we're going to call the person encrypting Alice, the person decrypting Bob, and the eavesdropper trying to break our communications Eve from now on. These are standard names in crypto FYI. Also, crypto is short for cryptography not cryptocurrencies. Get your Bitcoin and Etherium outta here!

Sorry if things start getting incoherent. I'm tired. It's after 1am now.

So first, how do we get the key from symmetric crypto? This is probably the easier place to start. Well, you need a number, any number of sufficient size, that both Alice and Bob know. There are many ways you could share this number. They could decide it when they meet in person. They could send it to each other using carrier pigeons. Or they could radio it via morse code. But those aren't convenient, and somebody could intercept the number and use it to read all their messages.

So what we use instead is a super clever algorithm called Diffie-Hellman, which uses maths and, in particular, the fact it's really hard to factor large numbers (probably NP Hard to be specific, but there's no actual proof of that). The Wikipedia page for this is surprisingly easy to read, so I'll just direct you there to read all about it because I've been writing for too long. This algorithm allows Alice and Bob to agree on a secret number, despite Eve being able to read everything they send each other.

Now Alice and Bob have this secret number key, they can talk in private. Alice puts her message and the key into the encryption algorithm and out pops what looks like a load of garbage. She can then send this garbage to Bob without worrying about Eve being able to read it. Bob can then put the garbage and the key into the decryption algorithm to undo the scrambling and get the original message out telling him where the good donuts are. Voila, they're done!

But how does Alice know that she's sending her message to Bob and not Eve? Eve could pretend to be Bob so that Alice does the Diffie-Hellman dance with her instead and sends her the secret location of the good donuts instead.

This is where asymmetric crypto comes in! This is the one with private and public keys, and the one that uses prime numbers.

I'm not 100% across the maths on this one TBH, but it has something to do with group theory. Anyway, just like Diffie-Hellman, it relies on the fact that prime factorisation is hard, and so it does some magic with semi-primes, ie numbers with only 2 prime factors other than 1. Google it if you want to know more. I kinda zoned out of this bit in my security courses. Maths hard

But the effect of that maths is easier to explain: things that are encoded with one of the keys can only be decoded with the other key. This means that one of those keys can be well-known to the public and the other is known only to the person it belongs to.

If Alice wants to send a message to Bob and just Bob, no Eve allowed, she can first look up Bob's public key and encrypt a beginning message with that. Once Bob receives the message, he can decrypt it with his private key and read the contents. Eve can't read the contents though because, even though she has Bob's public key, she doesn't know his private key.

This public key information is what the lock in your browser is all about BTW. It's saying that the website is legit based on the public key they provide.

So why do we need symmetric crypto when we have asymmetric crypto? Seems a lot less hassle to exchange keys with asymmetric crypto.

Well, it's because asymmetric crypto is slooooow. So, in TLS, the security algorithm that puts the "S" in "HTTPS", asymmetric RSA is used to establish the initial connection and figure out what symmetric key to use, and then the rest of the session uses AES symmetric encryption using the agreed secret key.

And there you have it! Crypto in slightly-less-short-but-still-high-enough-level-that-I-hope-you-understand.

Just realised how long this section is. Well, I did call it "too much detail" for a reason.

Now, next question is what exactly is and isn't encrypted using HTTPS.

Well, as I said earlier, it's basically just the source IP:port and the destination IP:port. In fact, this information is actually communicated on the logical layer below the application layer HTTPS is on, known as the transport layer. Again, as I said before, you can't really encrypt this unless you don't want your data to reach the place you want at all.

Also, DNS is unencrypted. A DNS request is a request that turns a domain name, such as tumblr.com, into an IP address, by asking a special server called a Domain Name Server where to find the website you're looking for. A DNS request is made before an HTTP(S) request. Anyone who can read your internet traffic can therefore tell you wanted to go to Tumblr.

But importantly, this only shows the domain name, not the full URL. The rest of the URL, the part after the third slash (the first two slashes being part of http://), is stuff that's interpreted by the server itself and so isn't needed during transport. Therefore, it encrypted and completely unreadable, just like all the content on your page.

I was going to show a Wireshark scan of a web request using HTTP and HTTPS to show you the difference, but this has taken long enough to write as it is, so sorry!

I could probably write more, but it's 1:30am and I'm sleepy. I hope you found some of this interesting and think twice before purchasing a VPN subscription. Again, there are legit good uses for a VPN, but they're not the ones primarily being advertised in VPN ads. It's the fact that VPN ads rely so heavily on false advertising that really grinds my gears and made me want to do this rant. It's especially bad when it comes from somebody I'd think of as technologically competent (naming no names here, but if you've worked in tech and still promote VPNs as a way to keep data safe... no). Feel free to ask questions if you want and hopefully I'll get around to answering any that I feel I know enough to answer.

Nighty night Tumblr. Please update your software. And use a (free) password manager. And enable two factor authentication on all your accounts. But mostly just update your software.

[chiliiscereal]

Chosen last: part two

Rottmnt x reader

Summary: reader worries that their new friends are becoming exactly like their old ones, unaware that they’re ditching them to prepare a surprise

Platonic, of course!

Part one: https://chiliiscereal.tumblr.com/post/650808822043115520/chosen-last

———

“I’m SOOOoO gonna beat you, Mikey!” You gloated, smashing your fingers over the remote buttons and narrowing your eyes at the tv.

“Ha! In your dreams, baby!” He responded gleefully. He leaned forward and concentrated harder than you’d ever seen him.

It was your annual video game competition. Once a month you and the turtles (and April of course) have one day dedicated to seeing who was the video game champ.

Mikey won last month, Donnie won the month before, Leo won the three months before that, and Raph came close but April defeated him.

You were absolutely determined to win this month.

Surprisingly, Leo was on the couch behind you and rooting for you.

“Go y/n! You got this!” He shouted when your video game car passed Mikeys. He even jumped out of his seat, nearly spilling the popcorn.

“Why are you rooting for y/n??” Mikey accused lividly. “I’m your brother!!”

“Y/n hasn’t won a single competition! Besides, you won last month!” Leo smirked, sitting back down. “It’s hilarious to see you this worked up.”

“Oh you and Dr. Delicate touch are gonna have a looooong talk later.” You snorted.

“Hell yeah he is!” Mikey growled.

Before you could say anything else, Raph entered the room.

“Hey, guys, sorry to cut things short but... Dad needs us to clean!” He blurted out quickly. “Sorry y/n but you should probably go.”

You waved him off, shutting the tv off. “Oh, I can stay and help!”

“No! I mean, it’ll just be boring trust me.” He intervened and took the remote from you hurriedly. He even grabbed your arm and pulled you off the floor. “You don’t want to help clean! It’s fine!”

“Hold on, we have to clean?” Leo groaned. “We cleaned last month!”

“Yeah, why aren’t we fighting Splinter on this?” Mikey stood in Raphs way when he tried to push you out of the room.

You wriggled out of the red masked turtles grasp. “Come on! Don’t you want someone to help you debate this with Splinter!”

You were on the rats good side ever since you bought him the exclusive Lou Jitsu movie box. All the turtles knew this.

Why didn’t they want you on their side?

A small part of you whispered past insecurities but you brushed it away.

Raph sighed, clearly nervous. “Guys we gotta do... the thing. We gotta clean the thing!” He looked at them as if searching for help.

“What thing?” Leo narrowed his eyes.

“The THING. You know?” Raph cleared his throat. “You don’t want to know, y/n. It’s super gross.”

You placed your hands on your hips, suspicious.

“You know... the thing April mentioned a while ago?” Raph tried again, making some loose gestures that you couldn’t really understand.

Somehow, though, Mikey and Leo caught on.

“Ohhhh, the thing!” Mikey exclaimed and immediately began clearing away the snack mess that had been left from the video games.

Leo joined him. “Yeah! Dude, you don’t wanna be here to clean the thing.” He shoveled as much garbage in his arms as he could. “You can just head for the door and come back later! You know, when we don’t have to clean?”

Hesitantly, you grabbed your bag. “Okay..?”

What was this thing they had to clean?

Did they really think it would gross you out?

And why did it take them so long to catch on?

Whatever. It was probably more shenanigans. It didn’t mean anything.

“Alright then,” you stepped away from them slowly, “I’ll just head out.”

The turtles stood in their spots stiffly and waved goodbye.

You rounded the corner to walk over to the ladder, unsure of what to think.

They didn’t normally act like this...

But maybe Splinter just really wanted them to clean?

But why weren’t you allowed to know what the Thing was?

And April apparently already knew about it...

Maybe it was just that you were still relatively new to the friend group.

Yeah, that made sense.

Before you could touch the ladder you heard voices.

Two voices.

Coming from Donnie’s lab.

Well, might as well go say goodbye to Donnie right?

You shouldered you’re bag and headed over, standing in the doorway and knocking on the wall so he’d know you were there.

He and April were both sitting together looking at a computer.

You didn’t even know April was there! Well, she might get kicked out for cleaning day to. Maybe you could both do something together!

The duo looked up, panicked, and Donnie quickly shut the computer off. “Ah! Y/n! I didn’t know you were here!”

You frowned, a little hurt. “Today was the video game competition? I was here just like the last... five months?”

April gave you a too wide grin and shut the laptop. “Well! What... uh... what brings you to the lab?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Raph and the others kicked me out cause they need to clean a Thing? They said it was really gross, and I came in to say bye to Donnie and maybe see if you wanted to go get ice cream or something?”

April turned to Donnie, wide eyed. “Well... I... I can’t exactly... I have a...”

“She has to help clean the Thing as well!” Donnie filled in for her.

Now you were really confused. “But... Raph said it was too gross for anyone other than family.”

“It’s fine!” April waved you off. “But let’s get ice cream later! Okay?”

You gave them a small wave and turned around. “Yeah... okay.”

———-

That Saturday you found yourself walking down the street with one of your old friends.

She wanted to get frozen yogurt and had a coupon for a “buy one get one free”.

Normally you’d have said no. But the turtles AND April denied you every time you asked if you could hang out!

So you said yes.

Just like old times.

“I’m SO sure Jake likes me.” She grinned to herself as she typed away on her phone. “Hope you don’t mind but he’s gonna be at the frozen yogurt shop with us!”

“Oh.” You mumbled. “I thought it’d just be you and me.”

“It’s fine!” She waved you off. “He’s nice! He’s not like the last guy... uh... what’s his name?”

“The guy who told me I was a prude or the guy who told me I looked better with makeup?” You couldn’t help but spit out bitterly.

“The first one.” She eyed you strangely. “And what’s with you today? You’re more pessimistic than usual.”

“That one was Brian. And I’m fine.”

She turned back to her phone, the two of you weaving through the new York crowd.

You’d rather be with the...

The turtles?

You stopped, hearing familiar voices coming from the alley.

“How could you forget!”

“You think I just meant to?!”

“Maybe!”

“Guys, shut up, it’s not a big deal, okay? There’s still time to figure this out.”

“Easy for you to say! You’re just gonna make up another lame excuse and leave!”

“I will not!”

“Can’t we just wait for April in peace?”

“No, because RAPH forgot about-!”

You cleared your throat and entered the alley.

The boys were huddled together, arguing. Quickly they jumped apart and tried their best to act normal.

“Heyyyyy, y/n!” Leo gave you awkward finger guns. “Didn’t expect to see you here!”

Mikey looked like he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the words.

You were suddenly less excited to see them. “Hey’ didn’t expect to see you guys either!” You bit the inside of your cheek nervously. “What’re you... what’re you doing here? I thought you were too busy to hang out?”

“We are!” Donnie nodded. “Very busy.”

“Yeah and dad grounded us from hanging out with people so-.” Raph added, only for his plan to fall through when April showed up from behind them.

“Guys! I got the-!” She stopped, spotting you. Whatever was in her hands she hid it purposely behind her back so you couldn’t see it. “Y/n!”

You fixed them with a small glare. “Too busy to hang out?”

You didn’t want to sound clingy or desperate, but now it just felt like they were going out of their way to avoid you.

“Well, you know, April doesn’t count! She’s practically family!” Raph chuckled.

That was enough for you to make a decision.

“Well, I’m kind of with a friend right now! I’ll... I’ll just talk to you guys later.”

You backed out of the alley, surprised to find yourself looking forward to meeting the new boy your friend was chasing instead of seeing whatever goofiness the turtles were up to.

You’d survived without them before.

Surely you could survive until whatever this was passed.

———-

“Hey girl your birthday’s coming up!” Your friend mentioned at the lunch table the next day. “I’m Definetely taking you bowling! We’ll bring all the girls, maybe even Jake!”

You didn’t even like bowling.

You didn’t even like Jake!

He was just like all the other boys she’d dated.

But it was better than just sitting at home and waiting for the boys to explain their recent behavior.

“That sounds great.” You muttered, stirring your salad half heartedly. “Can’t wait.”

You went back to sitting with your old group since this whole thing started.

You didn’t have anyone else to sit with! April would disappear during her lunch hour and say she just was going out to get lunch, but she never did that! Ever!

A part of you believed that maybe they finally realized you weren’t worth being friends with.

Maybe you were always meant to be the hermit.

“You excited?” One of your friends asked. “I am! I’m gonna invite Jaxon to go with me and I’ll get dressed up-!”

You tuned them out immediately.

What was the point.

They were talking about it like it was their party.

Not yours.

Just like every other year.

———-

Another day went by.

You found yourself with those same girls again.

They were planning the ‘bowling birthday party’ and coordinating rides. But, of course, there was no room for you to carpool with them.

“Hey, y/n!” April shouted across the lunch room.

You debated about ignoring her, and then debated about just getting it over with.

Ignoring her seemed easier.

“O’Neil, what do you want.” One of your friends asked almost boredly.

Crap, April was right behind you.

“I just wanted to talk to y/n!”

You didn’t bother turning around.

“I know you heard me. Why aren’t you sitting at our table?”

You clenched you’re fists under the table. “You haven’t been here, April. Besides I have other friends.” You finally turned to face her.

She narrowed her eyes.

But, not from anger.

“Well... I’m back now!” She grinned, placing her hand on your shoulder. “Also, Mikey wanted to know if you wanted to have ice cream with the guys later tonight?”

One of your friends burst out laughing before you could even answer. “This Mikey guy is real?”

Another one snorted. “Who’d have known?”

You tried to laugh it off.

You really did.

But that proved harder than you thought.

April placed her hands on her hips. “Excuse me? What do you mean by ‘who’d have known’?”

“You know what y/n’s like!” The friend beside you waved her off. “She hardly talks to anyone! He’d probably think she’s boring.” She turned to you. “Right?” She elbowed your side when you said nothing, as if she were joking with you.

You straitened your lips into a thin line and nodded. “Yeah... right.”

“So, when we go bowling for your birthday, do you think Jake will like my blue dress or my-?”

April slammed her hands on the table. “Hold on, you think this is all some game?”

Your friend shrugged. “We’re just playing with her! She knows it’s a joke!”

“Was it? Cause I couldn’t tell!” April huffed.

“April, drop it.” You mumbled. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not!” She nearly yelled. “You guys haven’t been a good friend to her at all! You forgot her birthday present last year and you make her walk everywhere-!”

You stood up from your seat. “I said stop, okay?”

Surprisingly, she did.

“It’s fine. Just leave it alone.” You walked over to the trash can and dumped in your long forgotten food.

She frowned. “Fine, if you don’t want me to do this, I won’t.” She walked next to you, casting a look over her shoulder at your table. “Even though I’m right.”

You said nothing.

What could you say?

“Hey, I... I gotta go talk to the guys.” April bit her lip and glanced at the door. “Can you possibly come to the lair? Tonight? Around... five?”

You set your tray back in the pile with all the other dirty ones. “Yeah, I can try.”

“Great thanks!”

April was out of there faster than you could say ‘hot soup’.

————

Wouldn’t you know it, five o’clock rolled around.

You didn’t want to go.

You really didn’t.

Well, you did, but you honestly thought this was going to be them ditching you.

All the signs were there.

Instead of over thinking you decided to just go. Don’t even think about it.

You arrived at the lair quietly, taking your time stepping down the ladder.

All the lights in the kitchen were off.

All the lights in their skating room was off.

By now, it just felt like this was one big joke. Did you misinterpret April? Did the guys even know you were down here? Ugh what if they were doing this just to laugh at you?

Finally, you got to their living room.

You clicked the light on.

“SURPRISE!!”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the four boys, one girl, and one rat dad jumped out.

Confetti?

Cake?

Even a happy birthday banner?

Decorations with your favorite colors?

Your favorite movie ready and waiting to be played in the tv?

“Ha! Look! Y/n’s speechless!” Leo chortled.

“Happy early birthday, dear friend!” Donnie waved to showcase the room. “April told us your friends were having a bowling party on the actual day, and that you probably needed a little something fun, so here we are!”

“We got all your favorite things, facts checked by the master!” Raph patted April’s back.

“We even got your favorite video game from the store!” Mikey bounced over to the tv and picked up the disc case.

“We have cake, baked by me, and your favorite sodas!” Splinter gave you a toothy rat grin.

“And as for the gifts,” Raph chuckled guiltily, “you kind of caught us trying to get them at the store! April told us it was coming up but we forgot and had to rush to get things ready.”

You...

You honestly didn’t know what to say...

You didn’t have any words!

No one had ever done this for you before.

No one.

Not even the friends that you’d known for years.

A small tear slipped out against your will as you brought your hands to cover your mouth.

“Hey, what’s the problem? You’re supposed to be happy!” Leo dropped his party hat and rushed over, brothers behind him.

You wrapped them up in the biggest hug you could give them. “Thank you so so so much! I... no one has ever done anything like this for me!”

The family gladly returned the gesture.

“Ah, so they’re happy tears. Excellent.” Donnie nodded to himself. “You are happy with this, right?”

You released them and stepped back. “Definitely happy tears.”

April draped her arm over your shoulder. “Well then, what are you waiting for! Let’s get started!!”

That night was probably one of the best nights of your life.

For once, you weren’t chosen last.

You weren’t the extra.

You weren’t the plus one.

You weren’t taken for granted.

Let me know if you have any ideas for a part three! Possibly one where the turtles find out about the readers friends? 😏

@magicalfrickingfish

[jayeray-hq]

How He Shows You Affection: Suna Rintarou

This was a request, but I unfortunately had to delete the original post because it wasn’t showing up in the tags! I hope you see it though anon and thank you so much for requesting!

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: Just a little hint of implied NSFW but mostly fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

Thank you as ever to the amazing and beautiful Tay @deathcab4daddy​ for not only beta-reading for me, but for helping me figure out these stupid tags 😭

He Takes Pictures of You

           The familiar sound of a phone camera clicking had you blinking awake. You’d almost been asleep, but the sound had pulled you from the depths, and you blinked blearily up at your boyfriend. As per usual, he was the clear culprit, his phone out and pointed in your direction.

“Really, Sunarin?” you asked him, your voice rusty from sleep as you watched him pocket his phone, not a single sign of remorse on his features, “Right now?”

             “You looked cute,” he told you with a shrug, completely and utterly unapologetic.

             “I look like a mess,” you countered with a sigh, keeping your voice quiet so as to not wake the rest of the people on the bus.

 EJP Raijin was surprisingly accommodating to their players’ significant others, and from the very beginning they had let you travel on the bus to their away games with Suna if you wanted to. You didn’t get to go nearly as often as you would’ve liked, if you had your way, you’d go to every single one, but unfortunately, you had your own work so the times you could go were rather rare.

 However, for this particular match, you’d made sure to take time off in advance so you could attend. It wasn’t every day that your boyfriend got to play against one of his old senpai from high school, and despite being extremely laid back most of the time, you could tell that Suna had been really excited for it.

 The game against Aran and the Tachibana Red Falcons had been a rather epic one, with the entirety of the old Inarizaki team in attendance for once. Even Atsumu had managed to be there, his own team having gifted him the day off so he could watch. In preparation you’d gone all out, wearing the official EJP Raijin jersey with Suna’s name and number on it, and doing up your hair and make-up, even though the yellow might not have been the best color on you.

 It had been a lot of fun especially since you got to sit right up close with the rest of Inarizaki. However, now several hours after the game on the bus back, you were sure you looked a mess. No doubt the make-up you’d applied so meticulously was smeared across your face, and your hair in disarray. You were very sure you didn’t look anything close to cute, despite what your boyfriend said.

 “Delete it?” you asked him plaintively, though your hopes weren’t very high.

 From the beginning, Suna had made it clear that he thoroughly enjoyed taking pictures of you. Almost every time you’d turned around he’d had his phone out and pointed in your direction. It had been a bit disconcerting at first, but you’d slowly but surely gotten used to it.

 A part of you thought that if Suna hadn’t decided to become a volleyball player he definitely would’ve become a photographer of some kind. He had a gift for it. The only problem was that he used said gift to capture everyone at their absolute worst. You were pretty sure he could make even the most photogenic person in the world look like complete and utter garbage.

 The most annoying part of it was, he was perfectly capable of bringing out the best in everyone if he wanted to as well. He just chose not to. It could honestly be a bit infuriating at times, especially since you knew he had entire folders of you on his laptop looking completely and utterly hideous because he insisted it was hilarious and adorable.

 As his girlfriend it was no surprise that you were the one he photographed the most, which you might’ve objected to except unlike with others he was very conscientious and considerate of your photos. He never posted anything to his social media that he knew you wouldn’t like, and never shared any of your embarrassing photos with anyone.

 When you’d asked him about it once, he’d told you it was because he didn’t want to share those moments with anyone else. It was honestly almost cute, and would’ve been adorable if he hadn’t followed it up by teasing you. He’d gone on to show you all his favorites, which were quite frankly the most hideous pictures of yourself that you’d ever seen chuckling all the while and wondering aloud how such a cute person could take such ugly photos.

 You might’ve objected, except unlike with others Suna also went out of his way to take pictures of you that were surprisingly lovely. At times, he managed to capture things that made you question if the person in them was even you with how good they looked. He always kept one of those photos as his lock screen, claiming he wanted to show off how beautiful you were. Seeing it never failed to make your heart swell with affection, even if he did set his contact picture of you to something completely hideous.

 “Nope,” he told you as he tucked his phone away into his pocket, another no doubt awful picture of you added to his collection, “You know I don’t delete my pictures.”

 You heaved a sigh at that knowing was true, he really didn’t ever delete anything. You quietly resigned yourself to it again, your feelings a mix of annoyed fondness for your boyfriend who insisted you were his greatest muse.

 “Fine,” you agreed with a pout, “but no more tonight Rintarou. I want to sleep.”

 “No promises,” he told you with an amused chuckle, making you huff at him unhappily, “It’s your own fault for being so cute.”

 You rolled your eyes at that, but did allow him to pull you into his side so the two of you were resting comfortably together, snuggled up as close as the seats would allow. His warmth and your own exhaustion quickly began to pull you back under, and you began to nod off again. This time when the camera shutter sound went off you firmly ignored it, feeling a swell of exasperated fondness for your boyfriend who could never get enough.

 He Seeks You Out

             During your relationship with Suna, you’d thought more than once that he was actually more like a cat than a fox the way he liked to claim. You’d never say so to his face, because he’d no doubt find some way to turn it on you, but some of his actions really were positively cat-like.

             If you told others, they would most likely say it was in the way he was so incredibly choosy about who he spent his time with, the way he liked to provoke people, and just generally be a jerk because it genuinely amused him. However, in your case it was actually in the way he sought you out, and then proceeded to drape himself all over you.

             It didn’t seem to matter where you were or what you were doing, if the two of you were in the same vicinity, Suna eased his way into your presence and demanded your attention. At home if you were on the couch, reading a book, or watching TV, he’d lay his head in your lap and stare up at you until you started to pet him before turning his attention to his phone. If you were laying in bed, he’d lay himself on top of you, nearly always knocking the air from your lungs and absolutely refusing to move despite your protests. If you were sitting at your desk, he was behind you, bent over with his chest pressed to your back and his sharp chin resting either on top of your head or dug into your shoulder with his arms around you.

             It wasn’t just at home either. Suna had never particularly cared about the opinions of others, and the fact that public displays of affection were looked down upon didn’t bother him one little bit. He was always coming up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and leaning as much of his weight on you as you could take, his face nuzzled insistently against your face or neck. It was more than a bit embarrassing at times, especially since he didn’t care who you were speaking to or if you were in the middle of something.

             In addition, whenever he was cuddled up to you, he always wanted your hands on him, preferably in his hair. The man went practically limp with pleasure whenever you played with it, scratching your nails gently over his scalp. The only thing he really needed to do was start purring to complete the feline image you had of him.

             The funny thing was that the minute he was cuddled up to you and sure that he was taking up your attention, was he then promptly dozed off. You weren’t quite sure why he was so insistent about sleeping draped all over you, but it was this more than anything that made you think he truly was feline at heart.

             It was honestly kind of cute if you were honest with yourself, with as much of a jerk as he portrayed himself to be, you never would’ve guessed he was the clingy type. However, he really was, even if the way he went about it was a bit annoying, since he didn’t seem to care at all about what you were doing or if his clinging to you made things difficult.

             The two of you had been teased more than once about the way Suna went out of his way to find you whenever he wanted a nap. He’d even referred to you as his personal pillow on more than one occasion, but you couldn’t bring yourself to object. You thought it was sweet, and enjoyed how incredibly physically affectionate he was. Especially since he never protested when you wanted to turn the tables and sleep on him, even if he did tease the hell out of you for it.

             He really was a jerk sometimes, but he was your jerk, and you loved him, just the same way his insistent cuddling let you know just how very much he loved you.

 He Shares His Blackmail with You

             You glared at the blond setter who just looked back with a smarmy grin on his face, clearly entirely too pleased with himself. The twins could be annoying, but were usually fairly respectful when it came to you. Today however, for whatever reason, Atsumu had decided to go out of his way to tease you.

             You were honestly trying to be a good sport about it, but he was frankly getting on your last nerve. You wanted nothing more than to do something that would knock him off his high horse, but had no clue what to do to make him back off. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, as Kita was pretty good at keeping both twins under control at reunions like this, but unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to make it today. Aran probably would’ve tried to step in, but the man was a little preoccupied dealing with an incredibly drunk Akagi who was stirring up trouble.

             Osamu might’ve helped you, but he was also finding Atsumu teasing you fairly amusing, and was simply watching on. You’d already tried appealing to him, but he’d insisted you didn’t get teased enough at gatherings like this, and it was only right that it be your turn. This, of course, left you with only one option, one you wouldn’t normally resort to, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

             Normally, one would think that your boyfriend should’ve been your first line of defense in situations like this. However, Suna was the kind of man who firmly believed you were more than capable of standing on your own two feet, and would only step in if you asked him to. If things were dire, or your feelings were actually being hurt, he’d do it with no hesitation, verbally eviscerating anyone who tried to mess with you.

             However, in a situation like this, where you were simply being teased, and he was also amused by said teasing, the situation wasn’t nearly as clear cut. What you offered had to be worth more than the entertainment he was already getting, and judging by the amused smirk on his face he was incredibly amused.

             “Rintarou,” you pleaded, giving him your best pout, “Help me?”

             “What’s in it fer me?” he asked teasingly, as Atsumu sputtered at the tactic you’d chosen to use, claiming you were cheating.

             “The love and affection of your beloved girlfriend?” you tried, batting your eyelids at him, making him chuckle in amusement.

             “Nice try,” he told you, his pale citrine eyes gleaming with mirth, “But I’m goin’ to need somethin’ more than that.”

             Your mind whirled, trying to figure out what you were and weren’t willing to offer him, based on how annoyed you were with Atsumu. The man himself wasn’t helping his case, guffawing at what he saw as a failed attempt and only riling you up further. You flipped through several ideas before settling on the perfect thing. Your lips curled into a smirk as you gave Atsumu a slow, triumphant smile that instantly had him shutting up, a wary look settling on his face.

             “Oy, I don’t think I like that look in yer eyes,” Atsumu informed you, leaning back a bit, though you promptly ignored him, all of your attention on your boyfriend who was watching you with interest.

             “Sunarin, if you help me with Atsumu I’ll let you do that thing you mentioned last weekend,” you coaxed, your words heavy with innuendo as you stared him down, “If you throw in Osamu too, I’ll even wear your favorites.”

             “Done,” he agreed instantly, pulling out his phone and pulling up several blackmail photos as both twins squawked in the background, Osamu protesting being dragged into it. It was his own fault, he should’ve helped you when you asked.

             “Since when do ya share that with anyone?!” Atsumu whined. His dignity completely shattered as he stared at his own phone in horror at the images that he’d just been tagged in that had appeared on his timeline, “Ya wouldn’t even give me any blackmail pictures, not even when I bribed ya. That’s unfair!”

             “Suna’s sharing his blackmail collection?” Aran asked, coming over from where he’d finally finished wrangling Akagi, as Osamu let out a low groan of despair, “With who?”

             “With her,” Atsumu told him, pointing at you dramatically, not that you cared a bit. Suna had come up behind you to drape over your back, his phone held in front of you, so you could pick the next few awful pictures of Atsumu to post online yourself.

             “Huh, guess he really must be in love,” Aran mused mostly to himself, though you couldn’t help but agree.

             Suna loved you, even if he did have odd ways of showing it at times. After all the couple that blackmails together, stays together.

[handy-dandy-monster-candy]

Inyez

Rating: NSFW Length: 5331 Pairing: Male Bat Creature x Male Reader (both cis)

xxx

Winter comes early up in the mountains, but I'm used to that. I like to sit by my living room windows and look down into the valley where I work, enjoying the way the city lights give the snow a warm glow. I figure myself lucky; I come from a happy family, I have a good career in a field I love, and I've managed to make a home out of the old observatory that sits like a squat little guardian at the top of a hill twenty minutes from the city.

My job gives me incredibly flexible hours, so I work whenever I'm awake and sleep whenever I want to. I've ended up with a mostly vespertine sleep schedule, which means I get to watch the sunset while I break for lunch. I'm a workaholic, though, so this "break" usually means that I step away from active work and focus on replying to emails from clients or looking up resources and reference images for my latest project as the sun goes down, and this time is no different.

I don't even notice the dark settling around me until I realise that I've been squinting at my laptop for the past half hour, and by then, the only source of light is its screen. I have outdoor lights, sure, and there's a street lamp or two on the way up the hill, but they amount to nothing unless they're on or nearby. I sigh and close my laptop to give my eyes a break, waiting for my vision to adjust properly to the lack of light around me.

I'm just contemplating making myself another cup of coffee when the window beside me explodes, and I have no qualms with admitting that despite being over six feet tall, I scream like a frightened squirrel. Instinct takes over and I find myself taking shelter behind my chair, waiting for the glass to settle before I risk peering around it. Adrenaline has made my vision sharper faster, but there's only so much I can make out in the darkness. I know I heard something heavy hit the floor after the crash, but nothing moves in the shadows, so I take the risk and scuttle over to the nearest switch plate to flick the lights on.

There's blood on what's left of the window and the scattered glass, and wide smears of it left in skid marks across the floorboards. Whatever has bled on my flooring is crumpled halfway behind my couch between me and my kitchen, cutting me off from any makeshift weapons I could use to defend myself. I creep around the other end of the couch with all the exaggerated stealth of a cartoon cat burglar, getting my first real look at the thing. It's dark and huge—about the size of a very large dog, at least—and even as my fingers grope for something to defend myself with, I don't take my eyes off of it for a second.

I approach the wounded creature with a skillet in one hand and a broom in the other, using the broom handle to prod gingerly at the thing that seems to be bleeding out on my living room floor. The first few pokes don't garner any reactions from the beast, and so I grow bolder, sending a silent prayer up to whatever gods might be listening that the thing doesn't have rabies or worse. I feel myself grimace as I lift one large, leathery wing to see more of the creature, only to snatch the broom handle back and away.

Whatever it was was awake, and it had been staring right at me with large, luminous eyes.

It takes me several seconds to work up the courage to repeat the action, and only then do I notice that those eyes are dazed and unfocused, shock settling in as blood dribbles down along its flat face. The creature murmurs when I prod it again—nothing I understand, but definitely something meant to be words—and that's when I realise that the thing on my floor is not a what, but a who. I swear and pace in my kitchen while keeping the thing well within sight at all times, but eventually my conscience wins out; I can't just let them bleed to death in front of me. Even knowing this, I know I don’t have the skills for what I need to do, so I pull an earpiece on and dial my cousin on my cell phone, grimacing when I glance at the time on my oven.

The phone rings a few times before there’s a shuffling on the other end, and then her groggy voice mumbles, “Hello?”

“Hey, Maraia,” I say, taking my first aid kit from beneath my sink and slipping a chef’s knife into my belt just in case. “I need your help.”

“Cuz? Do you know what time it is? I just got to bed an hour ago!”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s an emergency.”

I hear more shuffling, and then Maraia’s voice is much more alert. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Some sort of bat crashed through my window,” I say, hurrying over with my first aid kit and kneeling in the blood beside the lump on my floor. “It’s hurt real bad. Blood everywhere. It won’t make it to the vet if I don’t do something now.”

“You’re treating a wild animal?!”

“Maraia. It’s dying!”

“Fuck,” my cousin mutters, slipping back into her role as an ER nurse. “You owe me. Okay, tell me what you see.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, and try to turn off my anxiety as I listen to her expertise. First and foremost, I rush to apply pressure to a particularly ugly wound on the creature’s pelvis and thigh, cleaning and bandaging it up as best as I can once I’ve stopped the majority of the bleeding. This is about when I bump into the creature's, er, fiddly bits, barely hidden by a thick patch of fur. I work around them as I wrap him up in long bandages.

Per Maraia’s guidance, I check the creature's eyes and find wide, fixed pupils that indicate significant head trauma; it doesn't seem like he can see me, or even sense that I'm here. Still, I speak softly to him as I work, carefully picking glass and small twigs from open wounds and doing my best to clean and close them with a combination of butterfly closures and careful stitches. He whimpers and whines very softly when the discomfort is too great, but for the most part he hardly makes any sound at all, which Maraia and I agree is more worrying than if the creature were screeching and struggling with all his might.

Finally, after what feels like hours, I sit back on my legs with a sigh, certain that I’ve gotten to every wound that there is to be found. “I don’t think I can move it,” I say to Maraia, wiping my shaking hands clean with antibacterial wipes. “Not without popping something open.”

“You can’t keep it there with you,” she replies, using the same stern, reasonable tone that she uses on her children and patients. “Bats have rabies. What if it bites you?”

“I don’t think it can. I don’t even know if it will survive the night. For all I know, it’s haemorrhaging somewhere and this will all be for nothing.”

“All the more reason for you to take it to a vet! They can treat it there, maybe put it down if they have to. Whatever they decide will be better than what you can do at home.”

“I know,” I murmur, packing away my supplies. “Thanks, Raia. I’ll take care of it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Maraia sighs, and I can hear her exhaustion creeping back into her voice when she says, “Alright. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. Sorry for waking you.”

“Oh, bull,” Maraia scoffs. “You were scared and came to me. That’s a good thing. Love you, kiddo.”

I can’t help but smile, despite my weariness. “Love you, too,” I say, and hang up once we’ve said our goodbyes. It would be cruel to leave this poor creature on my living room floor, so I haul my inflatable mattress out of storage and set it up in my bedroom, grateful for the large amount of floor space in the converted observatory. I check on my guest several times during the time it takes the bed to inflate, and then I carry him into my bedroom, careful not to jostle him too much when I place him on the air mattress.

I watch the shallow rise and fall of the creature’s chest for a moment before I look up into his elongated face, taking in his small, black, dog-like nose and the sharp teeth that I can see peeking out from behind parted lips. Two large, velvety ears poke up from the thick fur on his head, motionless in his unconsciousness.

From what I can tell, whatever this creature is appears to be around four feet tall, with long curled toes on each slender, delicate foot and sharp claws on the tips of his hairless fingers. He's barrel-chested from the musculature needed to support both arms and wings, with a slightly narrower waist and wide hips that lead to lithe, muscular legs. The majority of his body is covered in a short, dense layer of dark russet fur over deep brown skin, perhaps a shade or two darker than mine.

Whatever he is, I've read enough books and watched enough movies to know with certainty that I can't take him anywhere—not without possibly endangering him further. The last thing I want is this creature ending up dissected in a lab somewhere, or worse. I scrub my hands over my face and get up to go clean my living room, taking one last glance at the creature in my bedroom before closing the door behind me as quietly as I can.

The first night is harrowing. Batty—as I've taken to calling my guest in my head—has his first of three seizures shortly after I finish taping garbage bags over the hole in my window. I drop the duct tape and run to him when he lets out an unearthly wail, all of the air in his lungs being forced out by seizing muscles. There's nothing I can do but make sure that he doesn't hurt himself further, sitting vigil beside him until his convulsions die down and praying that he'll still draw breath when they're over.

He's unconscious for the entirety of the next day, so thoroughly insensate that I risk calling out a repairman to replace the broken window so that the cold stops seeping in. Other than supervising the appointment, I hardly dare to leave Batty's side, taking my laptop into my bedroom to do as much work there as I possibly can. I clean him up when he messes himself in his sleep, though I worry about him dying of dehydration. To prevent this, I pulse ice cubes in my blender and carefully feed him ice chips at first, being mindful of his body temperature by keeping him thoroughly bundled in blankets.

By the third day, Batty makes as if to swallow, and I drip water into his mouth in an effort to keep him hydrated. I don't know what he eats, so I climb into my car and make the drive into the city, buying a variety of potted baby foods with what I'm sure is a wild look in my eyes that keeps the cashier from attempting any small talk with me. I make it back to the observatory in record time, and though Batty doesn't stir when I waft different foods under his nose, I still manage to coax him into swallowing mixtures of meat and vegetables.

He runs a temperature that night, and I spend most of the early morning hours before dawn wiping him down with a cool cloth and stroking my fingers along his brow when he starts to shiver and mumble in his sleep. His fever finally breaks the following afternoon, and in the fading light of sunset, his eyes crack open. He's still exhausted and disoriented, though, so he only blinks sluggishly at me when I ask him gentle questions, eventually fading back into unconsciousness again. I figure it's progress.

Batty recovers slowly. For a long time, I only hear his voice when he mumbles in his sleep or when he whimpers as I tend to his wounds. Eventually, he begins to communicate with me using little humming noises, or he summons me from other parts of the house with plaintive chirps that break my heart. I carry him into the bathroom and find that he's fascinated by the toilet after startling at the sound of the first flush, though that's nothing compared to his awe when I decide to show off the shower. He's visibly disappointed when I deny his peeping requests to be carried under its spray, but he seems to understand when I explain that we should wait for his stitches to come out.

He gets a little stronger every day. After a couple of weeks, he's able to sit up for short periods of time as long as he's propped up with pillows. He holds his water bottle by himself a few days after that. Eating still takes more coordination than he's capable of, at least when it comes to utensils, but he's happy enough to nibble at the fruits I cut up for him. I take him out to the living room with me when he’s well enough, and there I play nature documentaries for him and keep him warm as the snow falls outside. He stares at the television in reverent silence when the voice of David Attenborough warbles through my speakers, and he spends the majority of the day curled around a couch cushion in a nest of blankets.

I learn that he’s as omnivorous as I’d hoped he’d be, and so I go to the store and get him a few different meats. I cook them with little to no seasoning at first, feeding him like one would a dog, but it isn’t long before he begins showing interest in my own meals, too. This urges me to start buying healthier food for myself; I figure that if I wouldn’t feed it to Batty for fear of his health, I probably shouldn’t be eating it, either. That doesn’t stop me from indulging in the odd treat, and his face when he tastes my favourite soft drink is priceless before he spits it out in shock, smacking his lips and looking at the bottle as though it’s bitten him.

“What?” I chuckle, taking the bottle from his hands and offering him a cloth. “Don’t like the fizz?”

“‘Fizz’?” Batty echoes, and I nearly drop the bottle before I can get the cap on.

“You can talk?” I ask, and I feel my eyes widen when he nods. “All this time?”

Batty hesitantly shakes his head, claws gently scratching at the cloth on his lap. “Don’t know,” he slowly replies, brows furrowing over his big, dark eyes. “I remember some. It’s hard.”

“It’s okay,” I assure him, reaching out to stroke between his ears in a way I’ve learned soothes him. “You took a bad blow to the head. I’m sorry that I couldn’t take you to someone who could treat you better. I didn’t want someone bad getting their hands on you.”

Batty nods his understanding, sighing deeply and nosing up into my palm to guide my hand along his muzzle. “Wanted to say all this time,” he murmurs, his soft, fluting voice growing weaker. “Thank you.”

I smile; my heart warms. “I’m just glad that you’re okay. I’ll take care of you for as long as it takes. Do you have a name?”

He frowns again, briefly closing his eyes. “Inyez.”

“Inyez,” I murmur, testing the name in my mouth and finding it fitting. I introduce myself in turn.

Inyez’s face relaxes into a small, sleepy smile. He echoes my name, and doesn’t resist when I tuck him back under the covers.

“Rest,” I whisper, brushing my fingertips between Inyez’s eyes. They flutter closed and don’t open again as he lets exhaustion pull him under, and I turn down the lights to let him fall asleep to the sound of whale song.

Once I know that Inyez can speak with me, I go a little bonkers with the need to provide enrichment for my guest. It’s been a while since I’ve had the company with which to play games, so I’m at once overwhelmed and exhilarated when I stand in front of the tabletop game section of the city mall’s toy store. I grab classics like Jenga and Parcheesi, but I also pick up games like Tokaido, Wingspan, and Betrayal at House on the Hill. Inyez fawns over the beautiful illustrations and pretty trinkets needed to play each of the games, and he’s held rapt by the game mechanics and advancements.

I can’t help but mirror his delighted smiles, watching him delicately place tokens on the boards with his slender fingers. The furrow in his brow as he puts together jigsaw puzzles is incredibly endearing, and he’s quick to summon me from where I’m working to show me his accomplishments. “Come!” he cries. “Hurry, come see!” My name on his tongue is the sweetest sound to my ears, and I look forward to hearing it in that cheerful tone throughout the day.

I buy an extension for the desk in my office and give Inyez his own space while I work, though more often than not, he ends up watching my monitors at my elbow, marveling at my work and asking countless questions. At his urging, I show him my digital portfolio, where I have most of my character designs, logos, and even a few structural blueprints and landscapes.

“Where is this?” he asks, hardly daring to tap my monitor screen with a claw.

“Nowhere,” I say, enlarging the image so that he can drink in the details. “Nowhere real, anyway. It’s a fantasy world.”

Inyez frowns. “A fantasy world? But it looks so real.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I specialise in realism. There’s a lot of research that goes into it.”

Inyez doesn’t look entirely mollified by this response, but he subsides for the most part, only murmuring, “You even got the horns right.”

I turn my head to look down at him where he’s resting his cheek against my arm. “The dragon’s?”

“Yes.”

I can’t hold back my surprise. “There are dragons? They’re real?”

Inyez looks up at me, and I briefly get lost in his eyes. “Of course they are. They’re rare, though. Rarer than most everything else.”

“Rarer than you?”

Inyez bares his tiny sharp teeth at me in a cheeky little grin. “No. I’m one of a kind.”

I laugh, helplessly charmed. “That you are. Maybe I’ll draw you sometime.”

Inyez’s mouth drops open, eyes growing wider until I can just about see the whites. “Would you really? Me?”

“Why not?” I pull up a new canvas on my illustration programme, sketching up a quick little scene from the memory of looking down into his upturned face. He gasps softly at my side and shifts to cling to my shirt, murmuring in his strange language and making soft little cooing noises as I add colour and detail.

“Do I really look like that?” he breathes, looking from my face to the screen and back.

“Mhm.” I zoom in on the eyes, adding depth and highlights before moving to adjust the shape and fullness of the lips. Inyez goes very quiet for a few minutes as he watches the portrait come to life, only stirring to place his hand at the crook of my elbow to call my attention back to him. “What is it?”

“Do you really think I am so lovely?” asks Inyez, voice very soft and gaze shy.

I’m grateful for my dark skin as I feel warmth creep up into my face. “I do. You’re very beautiful.”

Inyez scoffs, but I can tell that he’s flustered. “You’ve only met one of us. Who are you to say that?”

“Sometimes one is enough,” I murmur, gently stroking Inyez’s small chin with a crooked finger. He makes an odd little twittering noise and hides behind his wings, and I feel my heart flutter wildly in my chest. I'm falling for this creature, I realise, and I can't bring myself to care; as far as I'm concerned, Inyez is the best thing to happen to me in a long time.

“Where do you go when you get into that terrible thing?” Inyez murmurs some nights later when we’re cuddled on the couch, his head on a pillow in my lap and my fingers gently stroking his head.

“In the car? To the city, mostly. To get food and toilet paper and other supplies.”

Inyez shifts to look up at me, confused. “You get food in that noisy place?”

I nod, brushing my hand along his cheek. “Everything we’ve eaten here, I’ve bought there.”

“But it doesn’t smell.”

“Smell?”

“The city. It smells, but the food doesn’t.”

I feel myself frown in thought. “Probably because a lot of it is washed and kept in clean places, or in airtight packaging.”

“I smell,” Inyez mumbles unhappily, tucking himself up in his wings. “When may I wash?”

I hum thoughtfully, rubbing one of his velvety ears between my fingers in a way that he likes. “Probably tonight, if we’re careful. If you really feel that bad.”

“I do.” Big, dark eyes look up from my lap, beseeching. “I don’t want to smell anymore. I want to be clean.”

“Alright,” I say, shifting to gather him up in my arms and carry him to the bathroom. “As long as we don’t scrub too hard or get your wounds too wet. I’ll still need to clean and redress them after we’re done.”

“You’ll wash me?” asks Inyez, a note of excitement in his voice. “Like lovers do! Could we be lovers?”

I can’t help but laugh, startled at the sudden change in conversation; I distract myself by fiddling with the shower controls. “We could be,” I reasonably reply, “if we both felt the same about one another.”

“Then we can,” says Inyez as he slips under the spray, cooing softly at the water’s warmth. “You think I’m lovely, and I think you’re lovely, too. It’s really that simple.”

“Is it?” I ask, dubious, even as I pull my clothing off and over my head to join him.

“Why does it have to be complicated? Is it more for humans? Is it not enough to feel safe and happy and goodness when I look at you? It’s like my heart has bitten a big, juicy apricot—it’s full of sweetness and the juice is overflowing!”

“A heart-apricot?” I chuckle, shaking my head at the silliness of the comparison. “Well, I’ll try to find you an apricot next time I’m in town.”

“Would you?” asks Inyez, burrowing against my chest and sighing. “I’d like that. I like you. Can that be enough?”

I run my hands carefully between his wings, earning myself a sleepy little burble. “I think it can.” I curb my enthusiastic reaction to this new turn of events and focus on gently cleaning Inyez’s fur to his satisfaction, and then I blow dry him until he’s warm and redress his wounds. By the time I carry him to bed—my bed, our bed—he’s limp as a noodle and snoring softly in his exhaustion, and I take great pleasure in tucking him in so that he’s safe and sound.

The next morning, I am kissed awake. That night, we kiss until we drift to sleep. Kisses and affection make up the bulk of my ‘duties’ as Inyez’s lover, and I take to the task of keeping him satisfied with relish. For his part, Inyez is content to groom me seemingly at random, running his small, clawed fingers delicately through my hair and humming to himself as he does so. I get a little less work done, but I don’t mind it if it’s to see Inyez so pleased with himself when he’s decided I’m primped to perfection.

It’s another couple of days before I give Inyez the all-clear to fly after his injuries have healed for a couple of months. We have to wait until nightfall until he takes to the air, but then he’s a dark blur against a darkening sky until I cannot see him at all. It makes me breathless when I realise that he’s lost to the night—what if, I think, he decides right then that he prefers the night and its freedoms to me? What if he misses his family, his friends, his former life. When he lands in front of me, panting and exhilarated and beautiful, I wrap him into my arms and crush him to my chest, burying my face against the side of his neck.

“What’s happened?” he asks, petting fretfully at my face and hair. “What’s wrong? Did you think I’d not come back?”

“Yes,” I say, and the word chokes me, making me realise that I’m crying.

“Oh, sweet one,” Inyez coos, wrapping me in his wings as best as he can. “I would never. Why would I? I am fed and loved and pampered, and you are a very good snuggler. You don’t even have fur, but you are very warm! Why would I leave, mm? Tell me.”

“I don’t know.” I laugh damply. “Missing your family. Your friends.”

“I’ll visit my family when my body is stronger,” Inyez tells me, tutting softly and nosing at my ear. “They deserve to know where I am, and they can come and visit us when the spring comes. They’ll be jealous of my roost and my mate.”

“Am I that?” I ask, sniffling and pulling away to look down into Inyez’s eyes. Inyez turns his face away, however, and I recognise that he is shy.

“You could be,” he murmurs, “but it’s not official yet. To do that, we have to—well, have sex. Hopefully more than once.”

“Do you want to?” I ask him, stroking between his wings so that they relax and rustle softly.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” Inyez says all in a gust, looking up at me plaintively. “I’ve been wanting to have sex with you for days. Weeks, maybe.”

I can’t help but laugh again. “You could have asked.”

“I could have.” Inyez pouts. “You would have said no, because of my wounds. You treat me like I’m fragile.”

“You are fragile, in comparison. But you’re right, I would have denied you. Now I won’t. So, ask.”

Big eyes blink up at me from that small, furry face, hopeful to their core. “Really? You’ll be my mate?”

I can feel myself grinning. “I’ll be your mate.”

Inyez wriggles against me, clutching at my clothing with a sudden fervour. “Mine?”

“Yours,” I assure him, drawing him against me and carrying him back up into the observatory. The next few minutes are a blur as we leave my clothing strewn across the apartment in a trail that leads to the bed, and I manage to find a bottle of lube I haven’t touched in months but mercifully has enough for at least a round or two.

Preparation happens before all else. Normally, this is the part where I would begin to lose interest because my previous partners have treated it like a means to an end, but Inyez is so sensitive and receptive that every little touch I give him sends him into a fluttering little tizzy on the bed. His prick is slick and red when it hardens out of its sheath, tapered at the end and thicker at the base. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I play with it with a careful touch that seems to frustrate and overwhelm the small creature beneath me in equal measure.

I drink Inyez in as he squeaks and squirms with my fingers inside him, watching his claws tear tiny little holes in the sheets as he grips them in his hands and trembles like a taut bowstring. When I finally push into him, he makes a noise like an exultation, and I fight to keep myself from coming right there and then when he wraps his legs around my hips and digs his feet into my ass to drive me in deeper. He wants more of me and I give until there’s nothing left to give, letting him adjust for a moment before I take up a rhythm that rocks the bed against the wall.

I need him, too, and I tell him so as I fuck him down into the mattress, listening to him mew and moan and say my name in a way more beautiful than any I’ve heard yet. He clings to the headboard when I roll him over onto his stomach, breathless and gasping raggedly, wings trembling like they’re weathering a storm.

“There!” he cries when I angle my hips a certain way, one of his hands diving between himself and the sheets to pump away at his hard, leaking cock. “Oh, please, there! There!”

“You want it?” I ask, and I hardly recognise my own voice, so low and guttural it is.

“Yes, gods, I want it,” Inyez mewns, almost sobbing with his need. “I’m close. I’m gonna—I’m—Please—“

“Tell me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay!” Inyez squeaks, not a hint of hesitation in his desperate tones. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay, I’ll never leave this roost! I swear!”

“Yes,” I growl, pushing my chest down against his back and reaching a crescendo that makes the headboard hammer against the wall. I come so hard and so suddenly that it feels like I get pulled inside out from the toes on up, and my vision whites out to the sound of Inyez wailing beneath me. When I come around, we’re tangled together in the sheets and I have him on top of me, both of us panting heavily and both of my hands buried into the soft, downy fur at the small of Inyez’s back.

“Christ,” says Inyez, and I choke on a laugh, turning my head to cough.

“That’s not an expletive.”

Inyez grunts. “You use it like one.”

I laugh. “That’s fair.”

Inyez takes a long moment to gather his thoughts, stroking the skin of my torso with careful fingers. “Would you be willing to meet my family?”

I blink up at the ceiling. “Of course. How many of them are there?”

“I have six brothers and eight sisters. I’m fifth down in the birthing line.”

My eyes bulge. “How old is the youngest?”

“Tiisa? She’s six months old. The oldest is in her forties.” I can feel Inyez smother a smile against my chest. “Mother says she’s done for now. We don’t quite believe her.”

I laugh, shaking my head up at the ceiling. “I would offer them shelter for the winter, but I don’t think they’d all fit in here.”

“Oh, Mother would hate it here,” Inyez chuckles. “It would be much too quiet for her liking. She likes life with the roost. I’ve always preferred quiet. This roost is perfect for us.”

Us. The word makes my heart swell, and I bury a smile against the top of Inyez’s head. “We’ll figure something out for their visit.”

“Mm,” hums Inyez, sighing softly before he sits up and smiles impishly down at me in the darkness.

“What?”

“Again.”

“Again?” I laugh, wrapping my hands around Inyez’s hips as they begin to rock and wriggle on my lap. “I’ve created a monster.”

“Your monster,” Inyez smugly coos, kissing my chest right over my heart.

[justthehiddleswrites]

HR Violation | Professor Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing:  Professor Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  You are a graduate student and PhD candidate. You never thought a guest professor would have an effect on you. That was until you met Thomas William Hiddleston.

Warnings:  Professor Tom Hiddleston, graduate student reader, Smut, Semi-Public Sex, Couch Sex, Sex, smutty dreams

-

“He’s a total babe.”

“One hundred percent I would let him nail me.”

“Yes, please Daddy!”

You cleared your throat, and the undergrads jumped when they saw you.

“What or who, more accurately, are you young ladies talking about?” You stared them down.

“No one!” The two literature majors responded. Your reputation as a no nonsense professor made the rounds through the undergrads quick this year.

“The new guest professor, Mr. Hiddleston!” The third girl piped up. Her friends elbowed her. “Ow!”

You covered your mouth to hide the chuckle bubbling up.

“I haven’t had the pleasure. But I would suggest the two of you focus on your essays on Austen and not on the more scandalous ways to get expelled.” You raised an eyebrow and walked away as they both made their mea culpas.

Every year was the same. Some new male professor joins the faculty sending all the young female co-eds in a tizzy. And many a male student as well. But just as soon as the embers of a torrid professor- student love affair spark, they are quickly doused by a healthy dose of reality.

You arrived at your office and dumped your bag on the desk and slumped in the chair. You spied several boxes piled up on the second desk in the room.

“Oh, fuck…” you groaned. You hoped you wouldn’t end up with an office mate this semester. Howard from the Modern Lit Department just about did you in last year. He always seemed to smell of fish and potatoes for some unknown reason.

Your door flung open, and your best friend, Caitlyn, burst in.

“Drop whatever you are doing and come with me to Alden Hall!” she screeched, grabbing your wrist.

You snatched your hand back. “Why on earth would I do that?” You glared at Cait as though she had grown a second head.

“Two words. British accent.” She counted off on her fingers as she spoke. “So come!”

Cait got you out the door and jogging down the hallway towards Alden Hall. You rolled your eyes at Cait’s excitement. No single man was worth this amount of fuss.

As the door opened, you overheard a deep baritone voice extolling the virtues of Tolstoy. The two of you slipped into the back and you glanced at the front to see the source of this rich velvety voice.

“Oh fuck.” you muttered a touch too loud and the undergrads in the back row turn and giggle.

“I told you it was worth it.” Cait leaned over to whisper in your ear, but you only half listened. Because you were fixated by the specimen of a man at the front.

He was a tall and lean man. He wore his reddish blond hair long and pushed up his glasses with his middle finger. As he moved, his tweed jacket hugged the curves of his ass.

“Damn that man.” Cait hissed as she squeezed your arm.

“Who the hell is this?”

“Thomas William Hiddleston, adjunct professor for the Literature Department.”

You swallowed hard. You now saw what the fuss was about earlier today. You glanced back to the front of the room and spied a pair of piercing blue eyes staring directly at you. You tugged at Cait’s sleeve to slip back out and return to the office. You didn’t notice the hint of a smile flit across Tom’s face.

-

It took twenty minutes to get Caitlyn out of your office and then another five to focus back onto the reason you came back in the first place. Your dissertation. You needed to get a rough draft to your advisor within the month. But soon your head fell to the desk, and you dozed off.

The door opened and shut. You turned your head at the sound of the lock to your office clicking.

“Please don’t lock…” your voice trailed off as you see Professor Hiddleston standing there

“I can go if you want?” He hooked his thumb towards the door.

“No!” you exclaimed with too much force. You clear your throat to compose yourself. “I mean, that’s not necessary. What brings you here?”

Tom’s chest rumbled with a chuckle. “I saw you at the back of my lecture today.” He strutted towards you. You found her heart pounding in your chest.

“My friend dragged me along.” you shrugged it off in an effort to deflect from the growing arousal within in your core.

“Possibly. But your friend certainly didn’t force you to undress me with your eyes.” He picked up a pen from your desk, flipping it in his hand.

“I beg your pardon!” You snapped back, rising to stand toe to toe with the tall man. “I did not!”

“You can lie to yourself, but I have seen that look before.” Tom’s fingers traced the line of your jaw. You turned your head away, but he hooked your chin and snapped your face up to stare at him. “You want me.”

“I want no such thing!” your voice wavered. “I’m a graduate student and PhD candidate. You’re a professor! It is so improper. It’s a HR violation!”

Tom smirked as he leaned forward, his lips ghosting yours. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” Your hands snaked along his neck to pull him closer and his lips pressed against yours…

SLAM! The door startled you awake. You rubbed your eyes and found the man from your dreams standing in front of you.

“What the fuck are you doing in here!?” you screeched, scrambling to your feet, smoothing down your sweater.

Tom raised his eyebrows as he dropped his backpack on the vacant desk.

“Apologies. I don’t believe we have met yet, Thomas Hiddleston, but everyone calls me Tom. I am a guest professor this year. They gave me the spare desk. They didn’t tell you?”

“Fuck!” you hissed under your breath.

“What was that?” he asked, failing to hide the smile on his face.

“I said welcome!” you lied. You extended your hand and introduced yourself.

“Pleasure. I hope I didn’t disturb your nap. I should have been more quiet.”

“What?! No, I wasn’t napping. I was thinking! Right, I have been working on my dissertation.” You scrambled for a plausible explanation of why you were drooling on your desk just moments ago.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell HR if you don’t.”

“Look at the time! I got to go! Meeting!” You snatched your bag and bolted through the door, leaving Tom to wonder what the hell he had said.

-

“You ran?!” Cait nearly spit her coffee in your face.

“Like a bat out of hell.” You muttered as you lifted the cup to your lips to cool off the scalding coffee.

“Why in the hell did you do that?!”

“Because he said ‘I won’t tell HR if you don’t’ and just moments before he was whispering that into my ear as he was about to kiss me in my dream.”

That time Cait spat out her coffee. “You were having a sex dream?!” she squeezed your arm.

You brushed her off. “I was not having a sex dream. I dozed off writing my dissertation.”

“In this dream, were your clothes on or off?”

“On.”

“Did you wish they were off?”

You didn’t answer this time.

“You did! You little slut. Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing! There is nothing to do anything about. I am sure that man thinks I am a lunatic at worst and a girl with a possible bowel issue at best. Any relationship is dead in the water before it began.”

Cait sipped her coffee in contemplation. “So you are not going for it, mind if I take a shot?”

You punched her in the arm. Hard.

-

The next few weeks went better than you hoped. Your schedule seemed to be the exact opposite of Tom’s and you only saw him in passing in the halls. You gave each other a friendly wave while passing. It certainly helped you spent little to no time actually in the office.

As you opened your door, you noticed a paper cup on your desk.

“I fished one of your old ones out of the garbage to figure out your order.” Tom commented from his desk.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” You hid your other cup under your desk and took a sip from the one Tom gave you.

“I had to figure out some way to start a conversation. I am under the impression you have been avoiding me.”

You choked on the coffee. “What?! No! What gave you that impression?”

Tom covered his mouth with the back of his hand to suppress his laugh. “Well for starters, you bolted from here during our first meeting like I was contagious with bubonic plague.”

“I was late for a meeting.”

Tom nodded. “So you said.” He rose and moved to the couch closer to your desk. “And since then, I think you have been actively avoiding me.”

You gulped. “I’ve… I’ve… been working on my dissertation.”

“Without your laptop or research materials?” Tom lifted his chin towards the stack of books and papers in the corner. Your laptop perched on top of the stack. “Why don’t you tell me the actual reason?”

You shifted in your seat and developed a sudden interest in a small hole in your jean skirt. Tom reached over and massaged your knee.

“Perhaps, if I told you something first?” His eyes sparkled behind the rim of his glasses.

“Sure.” you answered with hesitation.

“I saw you in the back of the lecture hall that day.” You gave a nervous laugh. “And then afterwards, when I returned to the office to find you here. I couldn’t believe my luck.” His hand slid up from your knee to onto your thigh, stroking his hand up and down.

“Why was that?” you gulped. Your voice cracked as you asked.

Tom rubbed the back of his neck out of nerves. “To be completely honest, I have been finding myself having rather…” Tom shifted in discomfort. “… arousing dreams about you.” Your brows raised in surprise. “And I suspect you may be having the same issue.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you were moaning my name the other day in your sleep and you bolted at the mention of HR.”

“I said what?”

“It’s alright.” Tom pushed his knees between yours. “I have checked the policy and there is nothing against PhD candidates dating professors as long as they are not advisors or on the panel.”

“You checked on that?” You placed your hands on his thighs.

“Naturally, I can’t have one or both of us getting fired when I ravish you on this couch.”

“What-” your response was cut off by Tom pulling you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist.

His lips crashed against yours, hungry and passionate. As his fingers moved along your body, his touch igniting your skin on fire.

“How does reality match up with your dreams?” you whispered against his mouth, your fingers tangling in his long hair.

He pulled his glasses off to stare at you. “In my dreams, you’re naked.”

“Is the door locked?”

Tom reached and clicked it shut. “It is now.” His hands tugged at your sweater. “Nice sweater.”

You ran your hands along his own turtleneck sweater. “You too. It would look better on the floor.”

In a flash, the two of you pulled off your tops, and you also slipped your bra off as well. Tom groaned as you shifted in his lap.

“You are the devil.” Tom growled against your neck, sucking at your pulse point.

You chuckled as you moved Tom’s hand underneath your skirt, pushing it up around your hips.

“No knickers?” Tom inquired, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“A girl must always be prepared.” you teased.

“I don’t even want to know why. But I am pleased.”

Tom lifted your hips and undid the fly of his pants. His erect cock popped free. Tom guided you onto his cock. The two of you moaned in unison.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed as Tom stretched you. You dug your nails into his shoulders.

“While I appreciate the enthusiasm.” Tom chuckled as he bucked up into you, “I would rather not put the HR policy to the test.”

“Then you better hurry because I don’t know how long I can keep quiet.”

“That can be arranged.” Tom gripped your hips and thrusted into you.

You held on for dear life to Tom’s shoulders and he fucked you at a bruising pace. Tom released one of your hips to find your clit, rubbing it along with his thrusts.

“Cum for me.” Tom commanded, growling in your ear.

You bit your lip to stifle your scream as you orgasm. Your head fell back as you clenched around Tom’s cock.

“Fuck, darling!” Tom cursed as his thrusts became erratic and he spilled inside you.

Tom fell back against the couch, pulling you tight against his chest. “So…” he started. “… now that we got the sex out of the way. Would you like to go with me to dinner tonight?”

You placed your finger on your chin in contemplation. “I’ll have to check my calendar. Which reminds me, you will need to clear out of here in about an hour for my next tryst.”

Tom slapped your ass as he smiled at your comment.

“Hey!” you smacked his arm. “That’s assault.” You wagged your finger in his face. “Don’t make me call HR on you.”

Tom’s lips curled into a smile as he kissed you. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

[cherienymphe]

Best Friends Forever (Fratboy!Peter Parker x Reader)

This is my entry for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​  What’s Old is New Again Challenge! This fic is inspired by #18, “A gentleman is simply a patient wolf. – Lana Turner. Hope you all enjoy!

warnings: NON-CON, manipulation, roofie 

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

summary: Peter Parker is your best friend. Peter Parker is your only friend. Peter wants to keep it that way.

~

Peter Parker was your best friend. In fact, Peter Parker was your only friend. The two of you had been inseparable for as long as you could remember. You grew up together attached at the hip, and therefore, you did everything together.

He was there, watching in awe when you pulled your first loose tooth. You did the same when he pulled his first one weeks later. You helped each other learn how to ride bikes, double dutch, and even attempt to skateboard once. The two of you had broken so many bones together that you had lost count.

You weathered middle school together and the absolute insanity that was high school. You two had been best friends all your life, and it had never been anything more than that, so you both were equally confused when catty high school girls and bored high school guys would constantly accuse the two of you of dating. It was a thought that had never crossed your minds, and it was something you often laughed about.

There were absolutely no secrets between you two, and despite that, you still found yourself completely frozen in shock as you watched Peter slip in through your bedroom window one night during sophomore year. He was covered in bruises, and the oddly familiar red and blue fit he wore had some tears. You had stumbled off of your bed, running to grab him as he struggled to stand.

Realization hit you as he leaned against your wall, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, and your eyes almost popped out of your head.

“Y-you’re Spider-Man?”

It had come out louder than you had intended, and he was frantic as he covered your mouth, begging you to keep quiet. Neither one of you slept much that night as you demanded answers from him. You remembered feeling upset and betrayed that he had been hiding something so important from you, but even worse, you felt worried.

Your best friend had been put in danger so many times while you had been none the wiser. From then on, you demanded that he pass through your house to change out of his suit before going home. Not only for it to be safe for him to get home, but to put your own heart at ease too. It gave you a sense of comfort to see for yourself that he ended the night in one piece.

It was a tough secret to keep, incredibly trying to keep your thoughts to yourself as you watched his crime fighting be reported day in and day out. It was difficult to keep your worry at bay when he was late sneaking into your bedroom or to keep yourself from crying out when he was especially hurt. You were the only one who knew the truth, and the gravity of it served to further isolate the two of you.

Peter was literally your only friend and had been for as long as you could remember. What did it matter that you had never had any girlfriends, even now during college? Sure, you had always envied that special bond some girls seemed to have with each other. Of course, it bothered you a little that you had never experienced what it was like to have a best friend who could relate to you in every single way, but Peter was plenty. Yeah, there were some things that as a guy, he would never fully be able to empathize with, but his sympathy and well intentions were enough.

Besides, having a guy best friend came with its perks. Peter understood guys way better than you could ever hope to, and he was always more than eager to give you advice. Thanks to him, you could probably call yourself an expert on them, but in the end, it never did any good. You had never had a boyfriend, never even anything remotely close. Sure, it bothered you, a lot, but in the end you were grateful.

Peter saved you from regret more times than you could count. Every guy you had ever vocalized interest in turned out to be absolute garbage. At least, that was what Peter told you, and you trusted him. He was never wrong about these things. Tristan, an upperclassman that you’d had a crush on during your freshman year, had apparently been a racist creep. James from your junior year was a party animal with anger issues. Your first year of college, you’d fallen head over heels for a literature major named Logan, but Peter had to be the bearer of bad news when he informed you that the guy had a girlfriend back home and about three more on campus.

After that, you had just given up completely. You saw no point to any of it when every guy you had ever liked turned out to be awful. In the end, Peter was truly the only one you could trust. You were beyond thankful for him, and the day you could bring a guy around with Peter’s approval was the day you would know you found a good one. Unfortunately, you were starting to think that day would never come. You dreaded the day Peter would finally get a girlfriend, because then you would truly be a lonely wreck.

You found it odd that Peter had been single all this time too. This wasn’t high school anymore. In college, girls liked guys who were smart and who read and knew how to have conversations outside of sports. Add the fact that Peter had grown to be quite attractive and had even joined a fraternity, he was a catch. So it was safe to say you didn’t get it, and told him so one night.

“I’ve just never met the right girl,” he said with a shrug, distracted.

“Oh, come on,” you scoffed in disbelief. “So many great girls have shown interest in you. What about MJ? She was tall and funny and her hair-! God, her hair.”

He snorted, a faint smirk on his lips.

“I just wasn’t into her.”

“Why not?” you wondered.

MJ was practically perfect, and you had never known Peter to be nitpicky. He just shrugged, eyes focused on his laptop as he typed away.

“Peter,” you whined. “This is just sad. One of us has to start dating soon or we’ll just end up staring at each other in our old age.”

“I’ve dated,” he said, offended as his eyes cut up to you.

You rolled your eyes, flicking your pencil at him.

“I mean dating dating, not whatever it is you and your “frat bros” do every weekend. That house has seen more girls than a gynecologist clinic,” you complained.

“You know I’m not like that,” he said, shutting his laptop and setting it aside.

While he was somewhat right, he’d still had his own fair share of fun with some of the girls who went to their parties.

“You may not be as bad as the rest of them, but you can’t fool me, Peter. Remember, there are no secrets between us,” you replied, leaning back into the couch. “When are you going to get a girlfriend?”

He didn’t answer, and you continued.

“I know you want one. You’ve mentioned it several times, and I know dozens of girls that would be thrilled to be given the chance.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, giving you his full attention now.

“I just…haven’t found the right girl,” he lamely repeated.

You opted to leave it alone, skeptically eyeing him before reaching out to turn on the tv. You could feel Peter’s eyes on you, but he fortunately spoke before you had a chance to ask him what was up.

“To be honest…there was a time when I thought…you’d be my girlfriend,” he quietly confessed, almost like he was afraid of your reaction.

You looked at him, shock and disbelief coursing through you. A humorless chuckle left your lips.

“You’re kidding…”

He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes were completely serious.

“No, I’m not. It was senior year of high school and… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I know we were teased about it for years and the idea was crazy to us, but one day…I realized that you were the person I was closest to in the world…and I wanted to be closer.”

Your eyes were wide, lips parted in awe as you listened to this confession. You had never known, and you wondered how you could have missed it. What kind of friend were you?

“It was the only secret I ever kept from you…”

You turned to fully look at him.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

He shrugged, dark eyes studying you.

“I knew you didn’t feel the same way, so I just forced myself to let it go. And I did,” he answered.

He was right. You had never felt the same way, and you started to wonder what would have happened if he had confessed his feelings to you. How awkward that could have been… It could have ruined everything.

“Peter…I can’t believe you did that. That must have…sucked,” you whispered.

He chuckled.

“I’m not going to lie. It kind of did, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You’re special to me, and nothing would have been worth making our friendship weird or just destroying it altogether. It turned out to be nothing more than a crush, anyway. Just…teenage hormones.”

You felt your heart clench, wondering if you would have done the same. It must have been torture for him to swallow his feelings just to keep things comfortable between you two, no matter how fleeting the whole thing was for him.

“Really, it’s no big deal, Y/N. I’m long over it, now,” he waved you off.

You chuckled, moving past the brief shock you’d just experienced.

“I’m glad for that. If you told me you still had feelings for me, I probably would’ve accused you of sabotage all these years.”

“Sabotage,” he scoffed. “Listen, every single guy you’ve been into was downright awful. You literally have the worst taste in men-.”

“I do not!”

“You do, Y/N. Honestly, if it wasn’t for me, who knows what you would have gotten yourself into.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Just for that, you’re paying for the takeout, tonight.”

 ~

“Botany? That’s crazy! I want to go into agriculture,” you said with a laugh.

The guy before you, Harry, chuckled with you. The two of you were tucked into a quiet corner of the kitchen. The rest of the house was vibrating with a deep bass, the sound of noisy college students filling your ears. Parties weren’t your thing, but frat parties especially were definitely not your thing. Somehow, Peter had finally talked you into attending one of his house’s infamous parties, and you hadn’t even been in the building for five minutes before you grabbed a drink with as little alcohol as possible and hid in the kitchen.

It was miraculous really that you bumped into an attractive guy who was equally uncomfortable with these things. He was funny and charming, and he wanted to study plants. You tried not to get ahead of yourself, but someone else might say it was fate that you two ran into each other. Hell, you ran into each other at Peter’s frat house, so the chances that they knew each other were high. Maybe Peter would have good things to tell you about him.

As if he was summoned by your thoughts, your eyes connected with familiar brown ones as he poked his head into the kitchen.

“Peter!”

You waved him over, and his eyes flitted between you and Harry as he approached you.

“Hey, Parker. I didn’t know you knew Y/N,” Harry chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, Peter and I go way back. He’s my best friend,” you said, pulling Peter over.

Your best friend was being unusually quiet, and you frowned. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his eyes had hardened. Was he okay?

“Y/N was just telling me that she wants to go into agriculture. We’ll probably be taking a lot of classes together in about two years,” Harry threw out.

Peter chuckled at that, but it sounded off, and he turned to look at you.

“I figured you’d be hiding in the kitchen, so I came to find you,” Peter said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

A shudder passed through you at the unfamiliar gesture, but you brushed it off.

“Oh, you know how I am. I’m glad I ran into Harry though! He’s been keeping me company, so you can just go back to the party if you want. Your friends are probably looking for you,” you replied.

Peter had become quite popular since you two started college, and you knew that the demand for his attention was rather high. You often felt bad about dragging him down with you. You weren’t really the social type.

“Yeah, Parker, I can look out for Y/N for you,” Harry offered, a friendly smile on his lips.

You returned it and noticed the way Peter’s jaw ticked, and confusion filled you.

“Actually, I came to find Y/N so that we can go,” Peter bit out.

Your frown deepened, but you didn’t question it as Peter gripped your hand.

“Oh, okay. I guess we’re leaving. See you around, Harry!”

He waved back as Peter pulled you out of the kitchen. His grip was tight on your hand as he weaved through swaying bodies and drunk students. Again, you wondered if he was upset about something. It was Peter, so you hardly ever saw him upset. You breathed in the fresh air when the two of you made it outside, and you took the time to eye him.

“Peter…you alright?”

He took a deep breath, chest heaving before he looked at you with a smile. He looked more like himself and you returned it.

“Yeah, I’m just…not feeling too good,” he answered.

“Oh,” you sadly said. “Are you getting sick?”

He shrugged, hand in his pockets.

“I don’t know. I probably had too much to drink. Mind if I crash at your place?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“You’re always welcome to sleep over, you know that.”

It was quiet for a while between you two as you walked back to your apartment. His hand was soft on yours, and the way his arm kept brushing against yours brought comfort to you. You were so used to his presence, borderline dependent on it, and just knowing he was beside you was reassuring.

“I love you, Peter, but please don’t invite me to anymore parties,” you suddenly whispered, a hint of mock fear in your voice.

He barked a laugh, and you joined him.

“All of them aren’t that bad, I promise,” he chuckled. “Did you really hate it that much?”

You hummed, releasing a sigh.

“Maybe I didn’t hate it all that much,” you admitted after some time.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye as a wistful smile fell over your lips, eyes gazing at the sky.

“So…how do you know Harry?”

His hand tightened around your own just the slightest.

“He’s in another frat,” he answered with a scoff. “He’s a spoiled rich kid who thinks he can get anything he wants by throwing money at it.”

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head.

“Somehow, I’m not shocked by that, but… You know what? I don’t care.”

He stopped walking, pulling you to a halt with him, and he stared at you with a frown.

“What? What do you mean?”

You shrugged.

“I like him. We have a lot in common and he’s hilarious and so cute. Maybe… Maybe I’m expecting too much, you know?”

Peter looked even more confused, jaw clenching as his frown deepened.

“What are you saying?”

“I mean… Yes, I’m a huge romantic and I want a boyfriend, a serious boyfriend, like I have for years, but… You have always been a girlfriend kind of guy. It’s no secret that you’re open to a serious relationship, and you claim the only reason that hasn’t happened yet is because you haven’t found the right girl, but… Peter, that’s never stopped you from having fun,” you elaborated.

He didn’t respond, and you sighed.

“I’m just saying that maybe I should do the same. Maybe I should stop trying to make a boyfriend out of every guy I’m into and just have fun. Like you!”

He forced a chuckle past his lips.

“That’s…that’s not like you…”

“I know, but… I’m tired of being alone,” you shrugged. “We’re in college, now, and the chances of me finding a boyfriend are pretty low. Let you tell it, a good portion of the guys here are trash, but that only matters if you’re looking for something serious, and I don’t think I want that anymore.”

Peter was uncharacteristically quiet…again, and you tilted your head at him.

“That’s…a big change for you,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “…but I’m really into Harry. You’ll help me, right?”

Your pleading gaze met his dark one, slightly frowning at the way he was looking at you. He pursed his lips.

“Please, Peter? I really like him, and you know him so well.”

He looked away with a small sigh. He briefly closed his eyes before eventually nodding, and you smiled. He looked at you with a grin on his lips, taking your hand again as he continued the trek down the sidewalk.

“Yeah. Leave it to me, Y/N, and I’ll help you get laid in no time,” he relented.

You squealed, reaching up to shake his shoulders as you pushed him along.

“You’re an angel!”

He chuckled.

“What are best friends for?”

 ~

“Okay, I’ll admit, that was much better than I was expecting,” Harry relented.

“See! I told you, I am an excellent judge when it comes to these things,” you replied as the two of you walked out of the theatre.

It was the sixth date the two of you had been on in 4 weeks. True to his word, Peter had helped you out, and that next morning after the party, you’d woken up to a text from Harry Osborn himself. A huge grin had spread out over your face, and you didn’t hesitate to reply.

The two of you had been talking nonstop since then about practically any and everything. It turns out that you hadn’t been premature in thinking the two of you had so much in common. It was true! It was almost suspicious how much of the same things you liked, including horror films.

“Listen, the storyline didn’t seem all that original, and when I had watched the trailer, I felt like I’d seen the entire thing in less than 2 minutes,” he defended.

“Okay, okay, that I can understand, but ever since I’d missed out on seeing both Insidious and The Conjuring in theatres because I thought they were going to suck, I vowed to myself ‘never again’.”

“Yikes! Both of those films were great. I just know you still kick yourself over that one,” he laughed.

“It literally haunts me,” you groaned. “I know experiencing both of those in the theatre must have been amazing.”

Harry seemed to find your regret amusing, and he stopped to look at you with a smile on his face.

“Hey, so uh, my frat is throwing a party this weekend. I mean, we do just about every weekend, but I was thinking maybe you could come…as my…date this weekend?”

Your eyes widened a bit, and you felt your face heat up. He seemed nervous to ask you, like he didn’t know how you’d feel about it, and it was wild to you. You really liked Harry, and you thought you had made that more than obvious over the past month. Sure, Peter was right when he said he was a bit of a snob, but it wasn’t overbearingly so to the point that it became a turn off. Crazily enough, you could see Harry being more than just ‘fun’.

“I’d love that,” you honestly replied.

The corner of his mouth pulled upwards into a smirk, and he stepped closer to you on the deserted sidewalk.

“Yeah…?”

You nodded, looking up at him as he got closer. Neither one of you said anything as he reached up to gently grip your jaw, leaning in until his lips pressed against yours. You sharply inhaled, closing your eyes as you savored this. His lips were soft, and the way he moved them against yours told you that he was experienced.

That didn’t bother you. Truth be told, you had always wanted to be with someone who knew what they were doing, because honestly, you had no idea. You felt flutters deep in your stomach, and you shuffled closer to him when a cool breeze blew by. He pulled away just a little, opening his eyes to look at you as you did the same.

“Come on. Let me walk you back to your place,” he offered.

You happily gripped his hand as he did just that.

You felt giddy, absolutely on cloud nine as you leaned your head on his shoulder. Maybe you were getting a bit ahead of yourself, but a nice and rich frat guy was asking you to be his date to his house’s party. In context, this whole thing was showing a lot of promise. Guys like him normally liked to keep their options open, and him actually claiming you as his date was making somewhat of a statement.

You waved him goodbye as you made your way inside the complex, lips still tingling from the second kiss he’d given you just outside. You were still smiling when you rounded the corner that led to your hall, pausing as your eyes fell on a familiar figure outside of your door.

“Peter, hey!”

He pulled himself to his feet with a small groan, stretching as you fished your keys out of your purse.

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for over an hour,” he said, glancing at his watch.

You gave him a sheepish look as you let him go in first.

“Sorry. I went to go see a movie with Harry,” you answered.

“Oh,” he said in a small voice. “You’re still seeing that guy?”

“That guy,” you scoffed with a small chuckle. “Isn’t he your friend?”

“Yeah, sort of, I guess…”

“You staying over tonight?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

“I really wasn’t planning to, but since I’ve been waiting this long, I don’t want to go back to the house in the dark.”

You hummed, opening your drawer of takeout menus to figure out what you should order.

“So…how are things going with Harry?”

You couldn’t stop the smile that fell over your lips.

“Great actually,” you said, sounding surprised. “He asked me to be his date to the party his frat is throwing this weekend.”

Peter’s eyes were wide as you glanced up at him, dark eyebrows raised as he looked at you.

“Really…”

“Yeah! I don’t know… I wasn’t exactly planning for this to be anything serious, you know? I wanted to experience some light fun for once in my life, but now… I think I can see us actually being something,” you whispered.

Peter didn’t reply right away, only humming in response.

“Are you going to the party?”

He blinked, heaving a sigh before shaking his head.

“Nah. I’m not really a fan of the kind of parties they throw,” he said with a shrug.

“What do you mean?”

He waved you off.

“They can just get pretty wild. They regularly get noise complaints and don’t really monitor how much alcohol people are drinking until it’s too late and there’s throw up everywhere,” he explained with a frown.

“Oh…”

You were a bit disappointed that Peter wasn’t going to be there, but you had to remind yourself to stop being so dependent upon him. The two of you couldn’t stay attached at the hip forever, and at some point, you had to start making a social life for yourself…by yourself.

 ~

Friday night came much quicker than expected, and you were all dressed and ready to go. The house wasn’t far from your place, and since it was still daylight, you didn’t mind walking. You’d worn comfortable shoes, so it didn’t bother you.

Even though you would probably be considered an early arriver, the place was already lively when you stepped through the door. Everywhere you turned, you were met with someone’s back or chest, and you struggled to maneuver yourself through the bodies. You didn’t recognize anyone, and almost wished that Peter had come with you, growing nervous until you spotted a familiar head of dark hair.

You approached Harry with a smile, reaching out to grab his arm. His eyes were wide when he turned to face you, and you frowned when he maneuvered his arm out of your grip. Your frown only deepened when he stepped away from you, glancing away, and that was when you noticed the girl at his side.

She hadn’t been paying attention, gaze elsewhere, but she smiled when she finally turned to look at you. She was blonde and beautiful and had perfect teeth, dazzling you as she grinned. Her perfectly manicured hands wrapped around Harry’s arm as she leaned into him.

“Hey! Are you a friend of Harry’s?”

She seemed sweet, and confusion filled you at their familiar body language.

“Babe, this is Y/N. She’s super close with my friend Peter,” Harry answered, barely sparing you a glance.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you eyed them.

“Oh! I’ve yet to meet Peter, but I’ve heard you mention him sometimes. I’m Scarlet, Harry’s girlfriend,” she introduced herself.

If it all possible, you probably would have thrown up, but you hadn’t eaten anything all day, too nervous about tonight.

“Oh, wow! I don’t think Peter ever mentioned Harry having a girlfriend,” you responded, hoping it sounded casual.

You could feel the man in question’s eyes on you, but you didn’t spare him a glance.

“Well, I’ve never actually met Peter, and Harry and I only recently go back together…what was it? Two months ago?”

“Two months ago…wow…”

You didn’t know what to say, and you finally understood the full meaning of ‘speechless’ in that moment.

“Yeah, Harry didn’t have any plans this weekend as far as I knew, so I decided to come down and surprise him. You should have seen his face when I showed up on the doorstep an hour ago,” she laughed.

You joined her, feeling like you were going to be sick.

“I’ll let you two catch up. It was nice to meet you!”

“You too,” Scarlet said, waving goodbye as you turned and pushed yourself through the crowd.

There were tears in your eyes, and your body was shaking. Were you on the verge of a panic attack? You stumbled over your own feet as you attempted to make your way to the door. So focused on the baby pink polish on your toes, you didn’t notice the figure before you until your head was colliding with their chest.

You stumbled back, almost falling had it not been for a familiar pair of hands. You looked up in shock, and everything crashed into you as your eyes met Peter’s. His gaze was inquiring, worry coloring his features as he studied you.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, letting it fall against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“What happened?”

“H-Harry has a girlfriend,” you whispered.

You felt him tense against you.

“…what?”

“I mean… I thought… You said he was just some spoiled rick kid. You never mentioned a girlfriend,” you said, looking up at him.

“I didn’t know. Honest. They broke up forever ago,” he replied, pulling you against him.

“Yeah, well apparently, they got back together two months ago. The whole time we’d been talking and going out together he…,” you trailed off, shaking your head. “He treated me like I was practically a stranger.”

Peter’s jaw ticked, and he moved to go past you, but you stopped him. His dark eyes were focused on Harry no doubt, but you pressed your hands into his chest.

“Peter, let it go. Please! Just…stay with me? I don’t think I want to go home…”

The last thing you wanted was to lay in your bed and remind yourself of what a disaster tonight was turning out to be. Peter heaved a sigh, hands tightening on you before reluctantly nodding. He pulled you along towards the door.

“Come on. We can just go to the party at my house,” he offered.

You nodded, leaning against him as he walked you out. You wiped at your cheek, unsure of when a few tears had spilled over. You had fooled yourself into dreaming of more with Harry and look where it got you. Even if you had still only wanted something casual, there was no way you would have knowingly got involved with a guy who had a girlfriend. That wasn’t who you were.

“I thought…I thought you weren’t coming,” you whispered.

“I wasn’t, but… I didn’t want to leave you at a party where the only person you knew was Harry. I’m glad I did come,” he murmured. “What an ass…”

“Don’t worry about it, Peter. Really. Maybe this is just a sign that I should stop trying to force something with every guy I like. It never turns out well,” you sighed.

Peter’s frat house was just as lively when you guys moseyed inside. A few of his brothers recognized you, and you waved at them. Peter’s arm tightened around your waist, but you didn’t mind it. You knew what other guys at the party would think, but you didn’t care. You were done with guys, and all you wanted was to hang out with Peter, the only guy you had ever been able to trust. So if they mistook you as Peter’s girl, and left you alone because of it, that was fine with you.

The two of you were attached at the hip throughout the night. Peter had gotten both of you drinks, and hours later, you were still nursing that same drink. This was never your crowd, and the more you made your way around the room with Peter, the more obvious it became. He didn’t seem to mind your company though, arm still at home on your waist. You noticed a few disappointed glances being thrown your way, and you chuckled with a frown.

“Peter, I think I’m ruining your chances of getting laid,” you finally said.

He glanced around to see what you meant before he chuckled too.

“It’s fine. You’re my best friend. I’m not just going to ditch you,” he responded.

You smiled but still felt a bit guilty that you had affected his night again. You pulled away from him, letting him know that you were going to be in the kitchen. He understood and promised to join you. To be honest, you wanted him to have fun. You didn’t exactly take pleasure in knowing that he sacrificed his usual routine at parties just for you.

You leaned against the counter, pressing your fingers to your temples as you rubbed circles into your skin. You didn’t know how the night had gone so wrong. How had you been so clueless? No, no! You were not going to do that. It wasn’t your job to watch and hunt for signs of an untruthful man. You weren’t supposed to be suspicious of a guy you were seeing. This whole situation was completely on Harry.

You finished your drink, tossing the red cup into the trash with a sigh. It was amazing that in the span of 3 hours, your life had done a complete 180. You had gone from having the time of your life to being alone and miserable and feeling absolutely foolish.

You heard footsteps make their way into the kitchen. You glanced up, face contorting in a frown as your gaze connected with that of the last person you wanted to see.

“What are you doing here?” you scoffed.

He was holding two drinks, eyes apologetic as he approached you.

“I’m sorry-.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Harry. There’s nothing that you could say that can fix this.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Scarlet and I… We’ve been having problems for a long time, now, and we both thought getting back together would make them magically go away, but they didn’t. The night we met, Scarlet and I had gotten into a huge fight, and I was under the impression that we were over…for good.”

You eyed him.

“Then she wanted to work things out, but I had already met you, and I really liked you…”

You looked away with a sigh.

“We were never exclusive, I guess, but it doesn’t matter because you have a girlfriend. You had a girlfriend the whole time we were hanging out, and I’m certain that you and she have an agreement that you guys are exclusive,” you harshly replied.

He glanced down, and you chuckled, but it lacked humor.

“You were cheating on her…with me… Never mind the obvious of how she would feel if she found out, but how do you think that makes me feel? Do you think I like being that kind of girl?”

He shook his head.

“No, no, you’re not the type-.”

“Exactly.”

He at least had the decency to look ashamed.

“I know I messed up, okay? I just wanted to apologize and bring you this… You said it’s your favorite, the only drink you actually really like, and I thought maybe it could soften the blow of you chewing me out,” he confessed.

You eyed the cup, glaring at him before taking it. You took a sip before sighing.

“Well, thanks for the drink,” you saluted him with it. “…but I don’t see us moving past this Harry. It was fun, but I don’t even want to be friends with someone like you. I’m sorry, and I mean it when I say I hope you and Scarlet work things out.”

You brushed past him, taking another sip of the fruity mixture as you went in search of Peter. It was easy to find him, following the sound of his familiar laughter. He didn’t mention anything as he wrapped his arm around you, and you figured that he didn’t know Harry was here yet.

“Hey, I was coming, I swear I was-.”

“Peter, it’s fine! You know I don’t care about you keeping me company or not. I’m a big girl.”

He returned your smile, pulling you closer as his hand tightened on your waist.

You didn’t plan to stay much longer, and about an hour later you decided that you would head out…after you used the bathroom. You found it much more difficult to weave through the sweaty bodies this time, and you blinked as your vision spun for half a second. You stopped to steady yourself, pressing your hand to your head in confusion.

You eventually made it to the bathroom, and you took some time to look at yourself in the mirror. You looked alright, for the most part, but you felt so…off. Your fingers were tingling just the slightest, and the bass in the houses sounded incredibly far away. By the time you were done in the bathroom, you were stumbling out.

You had to hold onto the wall for support, and confusion filled you. You’d only been drunk a handful of times, but this time felt different. Even worse, you had only had two drinks. You dreaded making your way down the stairs, and you had to pause and lean your back on the wall halfway down. You heard someone call your name, and they too sounded so far away. You jerked when a pair of hands landed on your arms.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?”

You stared at Harry for the longest time, wondering what he was still doing here when it clicked. You frowned at him.

“Did you put something in my drink?”

Your words were slurred, but he understood you nonetheless, and his eyes widened.

“What? No!”

“You did, didn’t you? I…I only had two drinks, and this didn’t start until after-.”

“Y/N, I wouldn’t do that! Come on, let me-.”

“No!” you jerked away from him. “Is this your way of getting in my pants, anyway?”

He frantically shook his head, concern and worry and disbelief all rolled into one in his gaze.

“Y/N, you have to believe me! I wouldn’t do this!”

You scoffed, pushing against him, but it was weak.

“Believe you? How could I trust anything you say?”

He blinked, something clicking in his eyes as he looked down the stairs and back to you.

“Y/N, I didn’t get the drink for you. Did Parker not tell you he saw me? He gave me the-.”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

You both turned to look just as Peter came up the stairs. You stumbled towards him, fighting off Harry’s hands as Peter wrapped his arms around you.

“He put something in my drink,” you whispered, on the verge of passing out.

“What?” Peter demanded, tightening his hold on you.

“Y/N, listen-!”

“You’ve done enough, don’t you think? Get out of here, Harry, because if I tell my frat brothers you’re drugging girls they aren’t just going to let you walk out of here,” he threatened.

Harry stumbled over his words as Peter helped you back up the stairs.

“Leave,” you heard him snap at the other brunette.

Your fingers dug into his arm as he helped you walk down the hall, arms tightening around you.

“P-Peter…”

“Hey, hey… It’s okay. You can crash in my room, tonight, yeah?”

You’d only been in his room a handful of times, the both of you usually hanging out at his place. It was always clean and always smelled good, and you had thought to yourself before that it was no wonder girls kept coming back. He sat you down on his bed, and you struggled to sit upright.

You heard him fumbling around in his drawers and looked up just in time to see him coming over with a huge t-shirt. You didn’t mind when he helped you out of your clothes, welcoming it during your inebriated state. His fingers grazed your skin as he slid the shirt over you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, blinking at him.

He took his thumb to widen your eyes, getting a good look at your pupils. You felt like you were having an out of body experience, and you were grateful for Peter. You didn’t like feeling like this, and you shuddered to think about what would have happened to you had Peter not been here.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He ran his eyes over you before resting them on your fogged-out ones.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said with a small smile. “What are best friends for?”

You struggled to return the smile, and he brushed his hand along the side of your face. Your eyes fell closed at the gentle feel of his ministrations. You were somewhat in shock that Harry would do such a thing. A rapist was a big leap from cheater and liar, and you wondered what drove him to do it. He had a girlfriend, but maybe he was truly that greedy and disgusting?

You forced your eyes open when you felt Peter’s hand on the side of your neck. You blinked, eyebrows furrowing as you watched him lean in.

“Peter-.”

You were cut off when he pressed his lips against your own. Your eyes widened, and you reached up to press your hands into his chest, but you had no strength. His hand slid to grip the hair at the back of your head, tightening his grip as he leaned into you.

You mumbled incoherently into his mouth as he laid you down, his lithe frame immediately settling against yours. His other hand was on your naked thigh, his t-shirt riding up to brush against your underwear. You turned your head, gasping for breath.

“Peter…stop,” you panted. “W-what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer you, opting instead to pull away and reach behind his head to pull his shirt off. You blinked as you were met with the sight of his bare chest. He leaned down again, pressing his lips against yours. He simply swallowed all of your protests, and you turned your head away again.

“Peter!”

“I’m doing what I’ve wanted to do for years, now,” he whispered against your cheek.

Your eyes widened, and confusion filled you.

“…what?”

You tried to scoot back on the bed, but he only followed, his frame still caging yours in as you both moved. His eyes were hard as he looked at you, and you felt tears collect as you fought not to cry.

“Harry gets everything, you know. It’s all just so easy for him, but I’d never let him have you,” he murmured, pressing kisses to your neck. “Not after I worked so hard to save you…for myself…”

You pushed against him again, but he didn’t budge.

“No, no. Peter, what…what are you…?”

Nothing was making sense, and your head hurt and your body felt heavy and the room was spinning. Nothing he was saying was making sense.

“Peter, you’re my best friend… This doesn’t make any sense…”

Your head lolled, much too heavy to lift as you heard him fumble with his pants. Panic gripped you, but you could hardly move. You groaned when he pressed himself against you, and you could feel him hard and throbbing between your thighs.

“Peter,” you mumbled.

“I’m going to be the only person who gets to be inside of you. The only one to know what it feels like to have you wrapped around them. God, I’ve always wanted to know what you feel like,” he whispered, kissing you again.

His fingers made their way to your core, rubbing you through your underwear. You reached up to grip his arm, but you were sure that your hold was featherlight. You let like your body weighed a ton, and the smallest of movements took so much out of you.

You whimpered as you felt your underwear grow damp, and Peter wasted no time in pushing them to the side before pushing a finger inside of you. Another soon followed, and you were panting beneath him as he worked his hand in between your legs.

“Please…stop,” you begged. “I’ll scream…”

“Can you?” he wondered, lips brushing against yours.

Tears spilled over at his question. He was right. Could you even scream? You could barely speak.

“Even if you could scream, Y/N… There’s a party going on. Who’s going to hear you? Hmm?”

He was dragging your filthy underwear down your legs, now.

“Peter, please. I’m your best friend… Please, don’t do this to me,” you pleaded.

Peter’s eyes met yours.

“It’s just been us our entire lives. All we ever needed was each other. I want to keep it that way,” he said.

You yelped, pressing your nails into his back as he slid inside of you to the hilt. Your legs were limp around him, a scream caught in your throat. He leaned down to kiss your wet cheeks, shushing you as you struggled to adjust beneath him.

He took his time as he pulled out of you before sliding back in, groaning at the way you clenched around him. You pressed your nails harder into his back, and he hissed before reaching back to grip your wrist, pinning it to the bed. He did the same with the other and kept a steady pace.

You panted beneath him, eyes fluttering closed. Whatever was coursing through your system made it impossible to focus on anything other than the way his hard length felt dragging against your walls. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he thrust into you, never taking his eyes off of you as he watched your face.

His grip tightened on your wrists, and you gasped at the pain.

“Peter…”

“It’s okay. Just enjoy it, Y/N…”

You gasped again as he picked up his pace, forehead dewy with sweat. He buried his face in your neck again, chest pressed against yours as he pinned you to the bed, unrelenting in his thrusts.

“You’re mine,” he murmured. “You’re finally mine…”

Something that was a cross between a choked moan and a sob escaped you.

“I want everyone to know it-.”

“No, Peter-!”

“I’m going to fuck you until the sun comes up, so everyone in this house will know you belong to me. You’re my girl, Y/N. You always have been,” he moaned. “…and when you limp out of this house with my marks on you, everyone will know it.”

He came in you with a low moan, and you sobbed into his chest as he rolled over, curling you against him. He ran his fingers down your back, lips brushing your forehead.

“I’ll make you come before the night is over,” he whispered. “I’ll be the only one to ever touch you like this.”

You shook your head, and he rolled you back onto your back, still inside of you. His dark eyes bore into your own, fingers trailing over your trembling body.

“You know exactly what I’m capable of, Y/N… You know the things I can do. I’d hate to have to hurt someone for touching what’s mine.”

~

tags: @sherrybaby14​ @kellyn1604​ @xoxabs88xox​ @mcudarklibrary​ @darkficreposter​ @villanellevi​ @sebabestianstan101​ @harringtonsblackgf​

@opheliadawnwalker3​ @jtargaryen18​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @readermia​

[faunusrights]

yeah, all i got is this belly button lint: a happy huntresses short fic

wrote this real quick because i love thinking about the random crap fiona has in her Inventory(tm). also i just like thinking about these clowns in general, so,

=

"Okay, so, what's actually in your Semblance right now?" Joanna asks one day in third year, when Fiona and May have sneaked away to Robyn's dorm to lose at cards and help edit her new batch of flyers promoting union creation in the workplace. Fiona had given a couple a look and accepted them as good enough, but May is weirdly exacting about her standards and is currently trying to convince Robyn to nudge the text headers over by ten pixels to the right. That's why, as she's sat on the floor and wrapped up in the drama of watching Robyn try and slowly fail to ignore May's insistent pleas for her to boot up her editor, Fiona's caught just a little bit off-guard by the question.

"My Semblance?" she asks, and Joanna nods all serious-like from her place on the bunk above Robyn. Joanna often looks very serious, because she suffers from what Robyn calls resting thoughtful bitch face, so sometimes it's hard to gauge how actually serious about something she really is. "I mean, it's probably a mess in there right now."

"I keep forgetting you actually use it like storage space," Robyn adds cheerfully, having now progressed onto shoving May away from her laptop computer every time she tries to creep closer. "Since most Semblances are, y'know, combat-only things or like... special occasions, I guess. And yet here you are, telling people you really don't need a bag for all your groceries!"

It is fun to flex on all the people struggling to carry like six bags to their car or their home, and Fiona preens. "Yeah, it's nice. I mostly keep things in it that I'd wanna have in an emergency, but it's been a while since I last sorted through it, so, who knows what garbage I've put in there."

"Tell me Robyn's braincell is in there too," May says imploringly, still trying to slide an arm around Robyn to get at the keyboard, but Fiona just shakes her head. She can't and won't be blamed for that particular disappearance any time soon. Instead, she rubs her hands together, scrunching up her face as she tests the edges of the Semblance. It's a funny thing, a Semblance like this--she never really has to think about it, but it's always just in reach, like this extra weight in her chest that she can totally forget about. It's strange to think about, so she often just doesn't.

"Okay," she starts, and she goes for the biggest item she can sense, which is an easy one to explain. In her hands materialises an acoustic guitar, worn and scuffed with age, and this attracts to attention of every girl in the room. "Well, this one's easy. This is my guitar, and honestly? If I ever leave it behind in the meatspace and don't pick it up on my way out the door, know that you've just seen my evil clone and you have to kill her."

Joanna blinks, and Robyn seems caught between asking about the guitar, the evil clone, and also the fact that Fiona insists on referring to the physical world as the meatspace. So, she does as Robyn does best, and settles on an expletive. "Shit! You play?"

"Been playing since I was... like seven? Something like that." Fiona shrugs, because she really can't be sure; her first vague memory of even seeing this guitar was a long time ago, her uncle telling her it used to belong to her grandmother who'd never managed to learn a damn thing on it. So, Fiona had taken up practice, if only because it was something for a little lowlands Mantellian Faunus to do during the long, cold polar nights and the endless sunshine of the midnight sun. "But, yeah, this is always on me in some form or another."

"You should've played it whilst we were on watch our last mission," May says, with a certain scowl that Fiona knows is 100% directed at their team leader, who is currently off doing... some sort of bullshit with their partner, no doubt. Gods, this team is a nightmare. "All those hours trying to stay awake so we could stare into nothing..."

"Sorry," Fiona says, and she means it. She'd intended to, but, well, she'd sort of chickened out. The echo in the mountains is kind of insane. "Next time?"

May nods, but Joanna cuts off whatever she's about to say next by waving her hands through the air like she can physically dissipate the conversation. "Okay, okay, cool, but now I gotta else you got hiding in there."

Re-compressing her guitar--and oh, is Fiona thankful that dematerialising and rematerialising it doesn't leave it out of tune--Fiona has a mental root around. "Uh, okay, so, we've got--"

In no particular order, she starts pulling things out: a pair of thick gloves for the brutal Solitas chill, an extra pair of socks (hugely understated by most, but never by Fiona), a ushanka that Robyn instantly cheers for, and a couple of jackets ranging from light windbreakers to thick furred jackets that feel like she's wearing a mattress around her ribs. Her Scroll and wallet are in there too, naturally, as are her keys and some extra ammunition, and she pulls out a load of old train tickets with a grimace. "Hm. I was meant to throw these away years ago."

"You're basically carrying around a wardrobe in there, then?" May asks in a way that'd maybe be a little teasing if she didn't look about as jealous as she sounds, but it becomes a thoughtful expression when Fiona shakes her head again.

"Bold of you to think I haven't got a whole pantry in here too," she says, and now Joanna looks very interested. "Check this out."

The first thing she pulls out is a gallon jug of clean water--endlessly fucking useful, she's found, especially when you're in some situation where you can't sit on your ass for an hour waiting for the water purification tablets to do their job--before pulling out a whole host of Atlesian MREs that she keeps around just in case shit really does hit the fan. Atlas rations are... not good, in a phrase, but she's owed them her life more than once, so, whatever.

"What dates are on those?" May quickly interrupts with a critical eye, trying to make out the printed numbers on the snow-patterned packets, and Fiona tosses her one if only to distract May's hands from trying to puzzle out Robyn's password when Robyn isn't directly paying attention.

"Things don't really degrade in my Semblance," Fiona admits. "I've tested it before on stuff with a short shelf-life, like cheese and milk, and honestly I can leave it in there for months and have it come out just as fresh as when it went in. Something to do with a sort of... internal stasis, I guess." Then, she adds, "One thing in my Semblance is a goldfish in a bowl, but he's part of a practical theory I'm running, so I can't materialise him for another fifteen years or so."

"That sounds very normal," Joanna says, and Fiona is glad she agrees as she barrels right over the inherent sarcasm.

As May agonises over finding the date, though, Fiona continues to unveil her pantry--there's plenty of snacks, like dried fruit and nuts and energy bars and chocolate, and when she reveals she carries extra for every member of her team and then some (then some in this instance being Robyn and Joanna, not that she'll admit it), Robyn looks delighted. "That's so sweet! Look at you, making sure nobody goes hungry. You're one in a million."

That's cute and very gay, but Fiona has a lot of stuff to be working through and so she keeps on going--there's a flask of coffee that, thanks to the maybe-stasis, is eternally hot, a bottle of dark Mantellian ale she keeps as, uh, moral support, and she blushes when she pulls out half an uneaten tuna sandwich. "I wondered where that went. Whoops."

May looks up from the MRE for a second, and then does a double-take as she takes in the sight of the very limp and sad-looking sandwich, made courtesy of the Atlas Academy cafeteria. "Wait! Isn't that the sandwich you accused me of stealing last month?!"

"Anyway!" Fiona says with a forced grin, quickly making it disappear back into the void where it can safely continue not existing. "I think the final thing in here is... wait."

She blinks, and suddenly in her hands are at least a hundred little booklets entitled The Pocket Guide to Communist Outreach, scattering right over the floor. Robyn yelps, and then reaches down the side of her bunk to pick them up. "Oh shit! I forgot I asked you to hold onto these! I thought we ran out, nice."

Joanna's face is in her hands, and May sighs long and hard before tossing the MRE back to Fiona with a distinctly pained expression.

"It goes out of date in a month," she notes with distaste, and Fiona just sucks it up without a word. She'll be thankful for it when they end up down a dark cave with no backup, but Fiona figures she'll sit on that one for a bit before being able to make the greatest told you so call in history. She can wait.

"So," she says, watching as May takes advantage of Robyn's momentary distraction to try and access her computer again. "I guess... do you wanna hear me play a song?"

Joanna watches as her partner leans too far over the side of the bunk, yelping as she nearly slams her head directly into the hard vinyl of the floor, and she grimaces. "Please do."

Grinning, Fiona finds her guitar again--somewhere buried, she mentally notes, beside the gallon of water but under the coats--and she slings the broad strap about her shoulders before settling it on her lap, crossing her legs tightly beneath herself before finding her place on the fretboard. After having not played since being back home, it relaxes her more than she'd ever realised it did. It helps to be surrounded by friends, though. Helps to be with family.

"I don't take requests," she adds, flatly, and Robyn laughs from her place on the floor before music fills the dorm, soft and deep and achingly familiar of a place far, far below.

But she's okay with calling this place home, too.

[stevenbasic]

Damn this thing, it’s so slow, I lamented, cursing the computer and slapping my spindly kitchen table in frustration as the video continued loading…loading…loading. A drink of Diet Coke - blech, this tastes terrible - and I tried to relax. I had grabbed this old laptop from downstairs, the office storage room, figured it would be better than my phone to surf into this stuff. My phone had been doing some wonky things, lately, anyway. And no one would miss this computer; it was Saturday, and the only activity downstairs should be in the new wing. Construction continued, day-in and day-out, even on weekends...

The stuff to which I’d been lead was suddenly making me nervous. It had all started with another weird, anonymous email in my inbox, similar to the one earlier this week. Instead of bringing me to a bizarre virology article, this one had some arcane-looking link which wanted me to start some authentication, de-encryption process. Why would I do this? It was probably - almost certainly - garbage. Or worse, some kind of trap, like phishing or some ransomware thing. But something about it caught me, made me feel like I needed to see whatever it was trying to show me.

This is weird, I’d thought, when finally I’d made it - after suspiciously having to create an account with complex credentials I’d been sent - to some old-timey looking chat forum. This didn’t seem like the regular internet. Was this “the dark web”? Something else? Anyway, the site was pretty much all text, like something from twenty years ago. It was a bulletin-board looking thing of some obscurely clandestine fringe community, obviously masquerading as a video game group, and just the subject lines made me scoff and nearly close down the laptop: “THE NEW WORLD ORDER IS COMING”, “Gathring supplies- sources here”, “Fund the resistence ”.

There were pages upon pages of what looked to be paranoid rants, conspiracy theories and outlandish prophecies, all spouted by anonymous, confused voices who used too many caps and couldn’t spell. I barely read anything, just skimming through titles, but it all seemed to be focused on some upcoming, disastrous event, some sea-change in society, maybe some fantasy of a war between the sexes. Disenfranchised men, it appeared, lonely losers and neurotic paranoia. Some of the more salacious subject lines almost caught my attention - “bimbo armies”, “tits=weapons”, “mommykink virus” - but the horrible spelling, childlike grammar and awkward interface kept me from wanting to waste my time. What did grab my eye, though, was a subject line of a post by someone calling themselves “ANDRSON”:

RE: EVOLUTION PHARMACEUTICALS - EXPOSING THEM!!

Yep, that gave me pause. Weird, but then what was in the message was even weirder…

------------------------------------

BROTHERS!!

MY SISTER CONTINUES TO CHANGE. STUDY SUBJECT FOR OTC “HEALTH SUPPLEMENT” (HA!!) AT EVOLUTION PHARMACEUTICALS WHICH IS JUST ONE ARM OF OUR BIGGER PLAYER!! IVE FOUND EVIDENCE! THEY MEAN TO SPREAD IT MORE BROADLY!! PART OF THEIR PLAN TO TAKE US OVER!! ARE THEY GOING TO KILL US - OR WORSE?!? THE TESTING IS ONGOING - THEY ARE IN THE FINAL STAGES OF APPROVAL FROM THE FDA!! - AND WE MUST EXPOSE THEM BEFORE IT IS RELEASED INTO THE PUBLIC!!

ANDERSON

<attachment: 5jjjh85mja.mov>

ATTACHED IS FROM 6 MONTHS AGO, ACQUIRED AT GREAT RISK TO MYSELF!! MORE RECENT IMAGES INCOMING!!

-------------------------------------

Attached was a video clip. This guy’s sister??  And what is this “Aspiring to become the most female woman alive”? At the time it looked to me like just a weird selfie. She was a subject at Evolution, for real? Maybe in one of their internal studies? The same Evolution Pharmaceuticals, the company coming to set up shop, conduct their study in my practice, and at the same time helping to fund the construction of the new wings in the building? So bizarre, but nonetheless it gave me pause. This obsessive, hysterical group obviously had Evolution playing a part in some larger conspiracy. Just the rantings of some gynophobic losers, I was sure, but still it settled strangely in my gut.

Wait...what’s that noise downstairs? Is someone in the office..?

===========================================

thank you to the ever-generous Joyce Julep for letting me hijack her "Anderson" character, and to Antares for his help and advice on the Forum Y image :)

even funner stuff happnin at Patreon

[i-donot-forget]

4 Days

My Candy Love - Love Life

Eric - Candy/Sucrette - Nathaniel

Words 2373

Spoilers Ep 12 - 13

So I was thinking about the days between the kiss with Eric and our date four days later, but from his perspective.

I don't speak english very well, so this is like 90% google translate

DAY 0

I ran away like a coward after what I had done, what was I thinking? How did I let it happen? But they weren't my imaginations, she reciprocated, right? The more I tried to remember the details of that slip, my mind could only think of one thing, her and the softness of her lips, steal her breath, her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks despite my misdeed, I couldn't help but smile because the reality was more delicious than anything I had imagined. 

The loneliness of my apartment took me out of my reverie, now I had to deal with the consequences of my actions, the only question was when? surely as soon as she got home she would tell him how I took advantage of the situation, maybe Nathaniel was on his way here right now to beat me up, which I deserve anyway ...

I still felt the light touch of her perfume on me and it was driving me crazy, I went to take a cold shower with the horrible sensation of hearing a knock on the door, a product of my tormented imagination. I could not think and I had no one to talk to, I was going around the place like a caged lion, I looked at the clock again helpless when I saw that even time was making fun of me, I changed with the idea that there was only one thing that could distract me now, go for a run. I was going fast, lost in my thoughts with the uncomfortable feeling that I was being followed, stopped at a traffic light I was left blank when I saw a blond guy in a white jacket on the other side of the sidewalk, I knew it was not him and even so I could not take my eyes off him until I was 100% sure, I trotted past him receiving the smoke from his cigar fully on my face, By the time I got to the other side of the street, I needed a cigarette more than I needed oxygen. 7 years in the trash, I thought as I ripped off the plastic and opened the box, that first puff was the only thing that managed to calm me down a bit and before I knew it I was on the second.

I walked home calmer or the fact that my head was spinning absorbed some of my attention but when I closed the door the adrenaline and excitement had passed, now I was on the floor, I saw the time and resigned that tonight I could not sleep I dropped into the chair in front of the table that was overflowing with reports, I opened the laptop and gave myself to the escape who had rescued me from Melissa for the last year and there I could see an e-mail from Ben that I should have checked that afternoon if I wouldn't have been in such a rush to get to a certain cafe at 8pm.

DAY 1

By the time the sun rose I could no longer bear the thought of not knowing what to expect, so I called Nathaniel against my logic and common sense, put the phone on speakerphone, and put it on the table as I clung to the wood tightly. Each ringtone fed my paranoia. I expected the worst, screams, insults, threats, at the very least, and then he answered, I stammered incoherencies until I realized that he didn't know, she hadn't told him… yet. I told him about the information Ben had sent me feeling slightly relieved, I hung up the phone calmer but not better, this secret was a time bomb and I felt like garbage. 

I froze as I tightened the doorknob, because by inertia my feet would take me straight to the Cozy Bear, like every morning before work and every afternoon at closing time, but I couldn't go back there like nothing else, I was a criminal returning to the scene of the crime simply couldn't break into her space after what had happened, not without her authorization. I walked towards the station in the company of a cigarette and for some reason I could not remember when was the last time I had done this, I was tense, distracted, I could not concentrate even on the simplest idea my mind was restless and I simply could not ignore the why, I would have to look at his face and act like every day, I had to be convincing and it felt horrible. I hesitated before entering and after crossing the entrance I stopped for a few seconds to look inside, searching quickly, I took a deep breath out of inertia thinking I still had a few minutes left.

- I am glad I am not the only one who is affected by the investigation . -

A friendly slap on my shoulder caused me an exaggerated start but Nathaniel passed by directly to the Chief's office, I saw how he stopped at the threshold, looked at me and gestured for me to enter. I explained the progress in the investigation with few details until our superior resumed the meeting, luckily without a field operation on the agenda I could keep my distance without raising suspicions. The day was eternal and tortuous but it was already after 10 o'clock at night when I went to vent to the gym, 3 hours later I was at home, another night awake.

DAY 2

-  It is the second day you arrive smelling of cigarettes instead of coffee. I believed that with age your habits would improve, not worsen. Is the wisdom of old age a myth? -

Nathaniel joked as the sound of his fists on the punching bag filled the air, I set the dumbbell I was lifting on the ground before giving him a look.

- Yes, yes, I want to see in what condition you will be when you are my age, young man. -

- But seriously, two days without coffee? That's a record, the Cozy Bear will go broke without you. -

- Yes, well I'm changing the coffee for the gym. With the whole move in I realized that I am not in such good shape. -

- Have you already adapted to your new apartment? -

- I finally have a bedside lamp so even though I don't have a TV, or real china, I was able to finish the last book you recommended. -

- Great. Did you start something new? -

- Yes, in fact I'm already halfway there... it's something different, more suspense with some science fiction. -

- Boring… -

- Whatever you say... to tell the truth... I had discussed it with... Candy. -

- Oh yeah? -

- Yes, now that I think about it... she asked me for the reference, I saved an article from the internet with several titles of the same style. -

- Would you send it to her? will you do me a favor. -

- Sure, mmmh I don't have her number. -

- My phone is in my jacket, the pass is 4444. -

- Don't you know her number by heart? -

- Mmmm no. -

Upon unlocking the screen, the background photo was like a kick in the stomach, it was her with a beaming smile, which I did not remember ever seeing, I imagine that smile is only for him. I looked for the contact, "Honey" of course ... I sent it and put the phone quickly as if it burned in my hands.

I avoided the excused lunch with an imaginary date with a divorce lawyer, I drove through the city with no clear destination, away from those streets where by any chance of life I could come across her, I parked at a gas station when it became apparent that no matter how long I was behind the wheel I would not find the right words and finally I called her, dial tone and after a few minutes, mailbox. Come on again, she must be tending the cafe after all. Second try, back to the mailbox, this is more difficult than I thought. What if she doesn't want to answer me? No, how could she know it's me, maybe she has my number. But what nonsense are you saying? Of course she doesn't have your number, let's go once again the third time's the charm. And I was defeated, after the third attempt I did not have the courage to call again and the uncertainty began to fill my head, I drove back to the station with a thousand ideas going through my head and in all of them I am the villain.

I was collapsed on the desk in my office after the afternoon meeting when the phone rang, seeing her name on the screen made my heart race, I closed the blind on the door window and I hesitated for a moment before locking with key.

- Hello, Candy? Thanks for calling me back. I think we should talk ... -

- Eric? I don’t remember giving you my number. -

Yes ... I simply continue to deceive Nath to calm this uncertainty that is killing me, I continued to accumulate crimes and although I believed that I was prepared to face the consequences, I was surprised at myself, at what I was willing to do to find out. 

- Ahem... I asked Nath for it. I told him I wanted to share the name of the book we had talked about with you but… we both know that’s not the reason. I wanted for us to talk... about what happened between us, the other night. -

- And ... You couldn't have just stopped by? On the phone, it's a bit ... -

- I agree! But I wasn't sure that you wanted to see me. Well, anyway… -

- Okay, well, you know where to find me, right? I don't close before 8, if you haven’t forgotten… -

- Well ... I'm busy today... And tomorrow. I thought…… Maybe we can get a drink together in two days? I promise, it won't take long. -

- Uh… Okey, see you after tomorrow, then! -

When she hung up I felt that the world was turning again, that everything had stopped just with her voice, in the middle of all this a part of me was glad to hear her again. Little by little the plea that had almost stuttered became clearer,she could still hate me, disown me and want me as far as possible from her life. Maybe that was what I deserved, maybe that was for the best.

That night I slept fitfully waking up with a start until dawn, a single nightmare repeated itself in a loop, she laughing in my face for having been so stupid as to believe that there was something between us, that I was mistaken her sympathy for interest and I don't know how I could even dream of her leaving him for… for someone like me.

DAY 3

Jogging accompanied by the morning dew helped me wake up after not resting, somehow a choppy night's sleep was more harmful than a sleepless night, this lack was beginning to take its toll and it was already more than evident in my face that I was not having a good day. Today I would have a little field operation, nothing more to watch in case I saw anything suspicious, although I definitely couldn't see anything if I could barely keep my eyes open.

I hadn't been able to escape lunch today and Nath had already been staring at me for a couple of minutes.

- Everything is fine? -

Hearing that question aloud I hesitated, as if I was no longer physically capable of following this lie, I thought of confessing everything to him, not just the kiss, but this forbidden feeling that I had allowed myself to cultivate, how traitorous and scoundrel I was, but then I thought about her, and how I couldn't take away from her what belonged to her by right, if someone had to be the great antagonist it was me, the only one who would have to pay for deception and lies.

- Yes ... Although I think my attempt to give up coffee for something healthier is ironically killing me, I think I'll go back to my old habits. -

- Take care Eric, I still need you around for a while, someone has to stick up for this department. -

Who would say that words could cause physical pain felt like his words were digging into my back and blocking my throat. I could only smile. Sitting alone in an incognito vehicle my mind was blank, no, not blank really an idea had been fixed in my head as a clue that appears after rereading for the tenth time ... I could not, I simply could not do that to Nath, this had all been a huge mistake, a confusing and totally out of place situation, and it had to end as soon as possible. 

That night I couldn't sleep either, I spent the hours thinking about her, saying goodbye in some way to the moments that I had collected in my memory, I had kept this absurd fantasy for too long and I couldn't continue lying to myself.

DAY 4

This morning I was calm, despite being the day of our meeting, but perhaps it was not tranquility but resignation, today the suspense ended, this story that should never have existed ended.

The hours passed quickly because I had already made a decision, if I wanted to end this forever there should be no doubt, I had to tell her absolutely everything, so when she rejects me and denies each and every one of my hopes, I could turn off that light that still wants to see her, that not even the fact that she is with someone else has been able to extinguish, it must be her and it must be brutal.

I was surprised at how quickly the orange glow of the evening began to creep in through my office window, it seemed that after all I did not really want to go to my “date”. My discouragement was turning into nervousness with each step I took, by the time I realized I was outside the cafe.

And then I saw you through the window and I smiled without being able to contain myself because only when I saw you did I realize that I missed you and that I had not liked spending so many days without seeing you and that everything even seemed a little brighter... 

Oh… Shit, I'm really screwed...

[purplecantaloupe]

**gif is not mine**

i was reading a calum fic just now and thought back to my old writings which sprung this idea in my head and i had to whip my laptop out and get to work. the lowercase and awkward grammar is intended ig i hope you enjoy <3

i had previously written a request for fwb!cal and as my mom would say “not my best work” but as i would say “it fucking sucked balls” so im making this kind of the rewrite for that monstrosity.

anon, if youre out there this is for you bby i hope this satisfies your soul <33

Explanation: so basically this is fwb!cal along with sub!cal and a bit of femdom!y/n which y/n gets pissed off that calum won’t interact with her, conflict/resolution as some might say.

Warnings: femdom!y/n; sub!cal; this is a WHOLE lotta smut, a few minutes of angst here and there, and a little fluff at the end (bc who doesn’t love a happy ending?)

Also I’m sorry for the spacing, I really don’t know what happened there :/

it was the last straw with calum, he’d been constantly on his phone the whole day and since it had been pouring outside for the most part you couldn’t go nurture your garden like you had intended. all day he’d been sitting and giggling at his phone, maybe the boys sending him some stupid texts or maybe it was some of his fans tagging him in memes on twitter, who the fuck knows but y/n was thoroughly annoyed. being stuck in the house all day with calum and not interacting physically with him had gotten to you, he hadn’t even said a word to you since breakfast! you even asked if he wanted to fuck around just to pass the time away and he just shook his head and mumbled out a, “not in the mood.” needless to say, you were irritated. so irritated to the point that you stood up from your comfortable position on the couch with a huff, stalking to your room and shut the door with your foot before laying face down on your bed, finally being engulfed in silence from his constant snickers and you could hear the rain hitting your bedroom window as it gave you a sense of serenity.

after lying on your bed for what felt like maybe ten minutes, you hear the front door open and shut, assuming that calum went out for a smoke. this was the time that you took to go out and grab as many snacks and anything that you’d need for the whole night, having the whole weekend off from work, you decided that you’d be staying in your room, giving calum a taste of his own medicine. after raiding your shared kitchen, you head back to your bedroom and decide to find something on netflix to watch and drown out calum when he comes back.

after awhile of mindlessly watching something on netflix for who knows how long, you hear the door open and shut and a couple pairs of feet walking around downstairs before they make their way up them and pass your room. feminine giggles erupt from the stranger and you hear calum’s door shut and you knew exactly what was going to happen in the next few minutes. you thanked every god above that you couldn’t hear what they were doing behind the closed bedroom door, every now and then you could hear a squeal from the end of the hall which only made you turn your television up louder.

you and calum made the agreement when you started your friends with benefits situation, you would be allowed to see other people and do whatever you wanted but you had to have some type of respect for the other; if you had another friend over, you’d be considerate and let the other person know ahead of time. to which he did not inform you that he was having a friend come over. you’d tried earlier to get it on but he rejected you which made your mood skyrocket into the ground along with your heart. it wasn’t calum’s rejection that stung you but the fact that he wouldn’t even give you the time of day without letting out a sigh and mumbling an answer before giggling at his screen again. suddenly it dawned on you, he wasn’t giggling at his phone because the guys of his fans were being funny, no, he was giggling because he was texting the girl that is probably laying in his bed right now, in the same spot you were lying in just the night before. the sounds have subsided but the ache in your heart stayed the same, ‘guess the last few months have just been time wasted that you could’ve been spending on somebody else’ you thought.

this was an all new low for calum, sure you’d had your fair share of other hook-ups but they never were there when calum was home, you had respect for him and yourself but apparently the feelings weren’t reciprocated. the message has been heard loud and clear. he didn’t care about you nearly as much as you care about him.

you hear silence from calum’s side of the hall which you take as a sign they’ve both passed out to which you make a break for it. jogging down the stairs and to your car through the rain that still hasn’t let up, you climb in the vehicle and you’re on your own to find yourself a meaningless hookup.

-

about an hour later you have your side piece’s head between your thighs as you’re belting out every curse word you can think of, your mind racing through nothing but tunnels as your vision darkens sans the stars you see around your head. jason was the nicest man you’d met since you moved to los angeles, he knew how to treat a woman’s body but also how to make you feel like you were floating. of course you two didn’t go farther than just sex, jason didn’t want a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship and you had calum at home so nothing would come of this affair.

jason came up and pressed his lips to yours, laying one hand up next to your head and the other was laying between your folds, collecting your orgasm before pulling away slightly and inserting his pointer finger into his mouth and sucking you off of him before he slides his middle finger into your mouth letting you both have a taste before you attach tongues again, tasting you with a bit of mint thrown into the mix. he pulls his fingers out of you mouth to blindly slide a condom on, never breaking the kiss before he slides himself in your tight walls then returns his hand to the side of your face. he definitely wants as big as calum is but he definitely knows how to use his cock, swirling his hips to make a beautiful rhythm between your bodies. much to your demise he pulls his mouth away from yours and attaches it to your neck and toying with your breasts with his free hand. he bit and nibbled on your neck, making sure to keep you stimulated, earning light squeals from you as he gently bit your throat then swirled his tongue to soothe the sting, though his hips never faltering. your hands were buried in his hair, tugging when he would do something you particularly liked which made him want to burst right there. jason was a peculiarly attractive man, he had long enough brown hair that you could grab ahold of and tug on as much as you wanted to, (calum’s was long enough to pull but you couldn’t really get a good grip on it) his eyes were a deep shade of emerald but he never really kept eye contact long enough for you to notice the little specks like calum’s deep brown eyes when the sun hits them just right you can see the flecks of yellow and almost auburn. jason’s hands were smaller than calum’s, he could hold your whole breast in his hand while jason’s hand was smaller and his fingers didn’t reach quite the same spots inside of you as calum’s long digits do.

jason’s hips practically had a mind of their own filling you up deliciously downstairs while his hands and mouth explored your upper body, never staying in one place which had your mind reeling.

by the time you both spilled over the edge, you were putty in his hands, despite your body’s buzzing of the aftershock, you gave jason a wave and jogged to your car from the rundown apartment building that jason lived in, he’s a messier man than calum ever could be, never really cleans up after himself. you would never judge somebody for their income or their living style but having known ahead of time you’d expect him to clean up a little before you’d arrive… maybe he did, that thought alone sent shivers down your spine. the fact there were multiple pizza boxes and other pieces of garbage lying around the living room as you two were walking through to the bedroom; calum was one to always make sure that if anyone was coming over, even if the maid he’d hired came over, he’d always make sure the house was presentable.

once you left jason’s and embarrassingly compared him to your other affair, you decided to go to home, making sure once you parked that you didn’t see his friend’s car there, which you didn’t and you walked up to your bedroom. on the way through the house you noticed calum sitting on the couch with his phone in his hands and his attention on the television, he hadn’t even acknowledged that you were home. you silently scoffed to yourself before shaking your head and ascend up the stairs to your room. in the moment you found yourself wanting calum to want you.

you found (in your opinion) your sexiest bra and panty set that you were aware that calum hadn’t known about; he never needed to know about your lingerie collection due to never having to really seduce him, he was the one who always started things off and tonight that was going to change. for once in you and calum’s relationship, you were the one who was going to show him the ropes, you are going to be in control. once you were satisfied in your outfit choice, you went to your bathroom and showered jason’s funk and sweat off of you then made your way to your bedroom, and made sure you had moisturized yourself before blow drying your hair and making it look almost as if you actually were trying to get calum’s attention, which you were but you wanted the fact to be subtle. you changed and slid a long white shirt on top that was almost see through which you most definitely could see the dark blue lace of the lingerie which complimented your skin almost too well.

you made your way downstairs, the first floor being lit up by the spotlights on the ceiling as well as the tv, calum’s head was still watching the show he was so invested in until you walked past the screen and turned to look at him innocently. you turned back around to the dvd movies under the tv cabinet and bent over, your behind stuck out from under the shirt just enough that calum could see what you were wearing underneath. calum let out an annoyed sigh as he craned his neck to keep watching his show as you picked out a random movie. you stood tall and looked at him with all of the pent up annoyance you’d suffered with all day.

“calum what the fuck is up with you today?” you say almost yelling.

his reaction was only making you angrier by the second, he barely even moved a muscle he just shrugged one shoulder and put his eyes back on the screen. you tightened your grip on the dvd case before you stood directly in front of him to block his view to which he just looked down at his phone and started scrolling through any form of social media. you grabbed his phone and laid it on the table, despite your subconscious saying to throw it as hard as you could against the wall, it fell to the table with a light clunk noise. you leaned over in front of him, hands on either side of the chair he was sitting in, giving him a good view down the front of your shirt but he stared past your eyes to the wall behind you. you gently but firmly took his chin between your thumb and index fingers and turned his face to look at you, which he looked into your eyes for a brief moment before he averted them to your legs.

“calum i swear to god if you don’t fucking look at me i’m gonna go batshit,” you say, your hands trembling with rage. “please just tell me what’s wrong, i can’t take this,” your voice cracks towards the end and you damn your genes for making you so sensitive during confrontation.

calum heard your voice crack and he looked at you, finally saying a real sentence to you, which broke the crack to your heart and shattered you like the porcelain doll that was your heart.

“we need to end things,” he simply said.

the dvd in your hands clattered to the floor and duke ran over and started sniffing to inspect it; this was your first time seeing duke all day despite your heart shattering you would’ve scooped him up and rubbed his ears like he loves. your eyes never left calum’s and vice versa. he could see your heart shattering and his was cracking straight down the middle, he never thought that this day would come but he finally found a girl that he thinks could be the one he could finally settle down with and open his heart to, that girl wasn’t you though, so he had to take the first step into winning this woman over.

“it’s her isn’t it? the bird that you had over here today?” she says, tears threatening to fall but staying at bay until calum’s nod confirms her heartbreak, the tears fall just as the pieces of her heart fail to stay together.

“can she fuck you better than i can?” y/n says confidently, despite the tears making paths along her cheeks. calum was stunned, he’d never heard such words come from y/n, even in the hottest moments of passion. she kept her eyes on his as she slowly climbed up into his lap and sat upon his thighs, caging him into his seat. “come on cal, tell me, i’m the only one who can get you this hard, i know how to make you feel good. come on baby, tell me and i’ll give you what you want, i’ll make you feel so fucking good.” he had to avoid her eyes otherwise he’d give in, those were his weakness, the eyes were the windows to the soul and y/n’s was bared to him, he was totally under her spell as he felt his hands going up her waist, meaning to push her off but only brought her lips to his. the day’s activities truly only made him want her more, he’d never wanted to hurt y/n by giving her the silent treatment but he had no idea how to bring up the fact that he wanted to start dating someone, for real. having fucked mariah only made him want y/n more and her words, those damn naughty words only made him realize just how much this situation meant to him, sure he wasn’t in love with y/n, no but she meant so much to him that he couldn’t even remember the other woman’s name with y/n on top of him. y/n made him weak and she knew it.

“p-please,” he whimpered which made y/n smirk, he hated that she had so much power over him. she on the other hand was loving the fact that she was the alpha right now.

“please what? baby, i need to hear your words, what to you want?” y/n knew exactly what she was doing, calum had done this same taunting to her many times. she wasn’t going to let calum get away this easily, this entire relationship was built on sex and this was the way she was going to win him back.

“w-want your mouth, your pussy, your hand, a-anything, please, love.” calum’s brain was swimming, he didn’t even know the words that were coming out of his mouth, his mind was in overdrive and she was driving him even further up the wall.

“should i give you what you want? i think you’ve been quite naughty, think you can get rid of me that easily? you’d be mistaken,” y/n continues, grinding herself down on cal’s cock, keeping a steady rhythm. she was not going to let her emotions and need get to her this time, she was in control for once and she wanted to revel in it.

once feeling y/n grinding down on him, he laid his head in the crook of her neck, whimpering as the uncomfortable hardening in his pants. his hands were attached to her hips like glue, trying to get her to move faster against him, anything to cause friction, y/n took the opportunity while he was distracted to take her long shirt off and show him her set. y/n’s breasts were perfectly hung in the push up bra, her tits almost spilling out, causing calum to stare at them as they bounced with her movements. he set his hands lower to grab onto her lace-clad ass and grip it tightly before laying a quick spank to it before he massaged his hands over both cheeks again to soothe the sting. her whimper was heard through the apartment just louder than the tv was playing, sending a rush of blood to calum’s cock and wetness to pool in her panties.

much to calum’s demise she climbed off of calum, her tits directly in his face and he sent his tongue out to get any bit of skin he could reach. she grabbed a throw pillow off the couch and sat on her knees in front of calum, her mouth watering at the sight of him hardening by the second, who knew calum was such a sub.

y/n gently tugged on calum’s shirt and he quickly pulled it off before she leaned up and kissed his chest gently, running her bottom lip all the way up. he tilts his head back as she uses her tongue to lead her mouth to his then leaned up and pecked his lips all so gently. if he was going to end this, she wanted to make the most of it. he of course kissed her back, grabbing the sides of her neck gently to keep her still for him, savoring the taste of her lips. they pulled away at the same time, breathless, and y/n went to work, she grabbed onto the waistband of his boxers, careful not to pinch his skin and gently peeled the boxers down to reveal him. she kissed his tip then bit her lips, licking the bit of precum off her mouth before her throat worked and spit into her hand, bringing it up to him and pumped the bit of his shaft closest to his balls before she took the head in her mouth and sucked and licked the tip, making sure he was lubricated. his head was spinning at the feeling of her mouth on him, she was an expert on calum’s body and they both knew it. she pulled off a bit before looking up at him,

“if you try to fuck my face, i wont let you cum at all tonight,” her eyes teary but dark and full of dominancy—he’d never seen this side of y/n before—he nodded and looked at her like a little kid, agreeing to anything if she’d keep going. she then bottomed him out, both of her hands on either of his thighs, taking him all the way in her mouth and sitting there for a second before coming back up for air, then doing the same, her nose touching his pelvis, breathing in and then out before pulling off of him, a trail of spit connecting her mouth to his cock. The gags and deep breaths coming for y/n make calum come back to reality, her head bobbing at almost a professional pace, he grabbed onto her hand and tugged on it, she shook her head as if to say that she wasn’t done, he tugged on her once more before she pulled off of him and swallowed the mix of precum and spit on her tongue.

“what?” she breathed and before she could say anything else, he motioned for her to come to him, his mouth attaching to hers, this kiss was something neither of them had experienced with each other before, both of them feeling more than just the heat of the moment passion, this kiss was a knee weakening, heart stopping, head spinning passion that they’d never shared before. y/n grabbed onto his face and they slowly stood up with each other, calum wrapping his arms around her thighs and she jumped up onto his torso, their clammy skin acting as glue to hold them together. calum carried her all the way up the stairs, practically kicking y/n’s door in and then shut it by pressing her against it. the kiss was never broken, neither of them wanted to ruin this moment, y/n’s dominant nature, calum’s conflicted mindset and both of their needs to please each other. he peeled her from the coolness of the door and her back was met with the soft fabric of the quilt on top of her bed. her hips were reaching to meet his, and he had to break the kiss, her back was caving a little so they could meet their foreheads,

“i’m never leaving you,” calum whispered as he looked deep into her irises, something only calum did when he was serious, her heart was slowly piecing back together. something told her that he meant more than he was saying but now was not the time. she gently pushed him up and laid him down against her quilt, climbing on top of him and his hands found their favorite place between her hips and her ribs, “please ride my face baby, i need to taste you.” calum whimpered at her and look up at her with almost child-like puppy dog eyes.

“how could i say no,” she whispered and stood up on her bed, looking down at him before sliding her blue laced panties down her legs and threw them across the room, moving up the bed and finding herself sitting right above his mouth and as soon as she was within reach, he was aiming her hole right above his mouth, his breath fanned over her wetness, cooling her heat off as he did and his tongue shot up stiff and flat as he licked a strip up her slit. he slid his hands up from her thighs, grazing her ass before holding onto her lower back holding onto her tightly as if she’d float away. she ground her hips against his mouth, eliciting little whimpers from her mouth, her left hand finding his short hair and her right flew to the headboard, knuckles turning white as her vision went black, her head flew up to face the ceiling, using the headboard to keep her grounded as he sucked on her clit, nipping at it a bit which made her let out a loud squeal of his name and a string of curses. calum seeing and hearing that made him never want it to stop, he made sure to nibble her clit once more. y/n had to do something, she wasn’t on earth, she was on cloud fucking nine and she had to ground herself, she reached behind her and grabbed onto his cock, pumping her fist rapidly before she struck an idea.

“cal, cal ssss-stop,” she hissed and he immediately thought something was wrong, he looked up at her with glossy eyes.

“are you okay, what did i do?” he whispered and gently pushed her up to look at her, this was the same way he’d always done it and he was scared that he’d hurt her.

“nothing, you did absolutely nothing wrong, that was… perfect. i want to try something, if you’re down.” she said and slowly moved down from near his mouth. he looked at her wearily and nodded.

“will it hurt?” he whispered, holy shit he was so fucking cute right now. looking like a little puppy that lost his way home.

“no baby, i want to try a sixty-nine, we’ve never done it before and i want to make you feel good, while you’re making me feel good,” she says and turns around in the reverse cowgirl position but over his mouth, she looks down at him through her legs and he nods for her to sit down. she slowly sits on his mouth and he immediately starts licking and sucking at her hole and her clit simultaneously which sent her almost flying as she bucked her back involuntarily. she leaned down and kissed his tip once again, sending a wave through him which only got better as she sunk down on him, her chin grazing his lower abdomen. she let out a gag noise and gargled in her throat to keep her esophagus calm, calum practically came just from the friction and the noises she was making also from her own pleasure. she sat up pulled herself off of his tongue and turned around, “such a pretty boy,” she whispers and runs her finger down his cheek gently, “put your arms up here,” y/n says a little louder. she sits upon his sternum, taking his hands in hers and laid small pecks on his knuckles before she raised them above his head, laying them on the posts of her headboard, “keep your hands here,” she whispers. calum nods and follows her orders. his grip tightens when she runs her fingernail gently up his sensitive shaft, he gasps and bites his lip.

“please baby, i need it,” calum whimpers and looks down at her. the smirk on her face makes calum almost angry, they both know that he’s putty and she’s drinking it up shamelessly.

“are you my little slut? thinking that you can fuck another girl in our house while i’m just down the hall?” she whispers through her teeth, anger just at her surface. “do you think you should be punished for being a little slut?” y/n says, her fingernail still grazing his swollen cock. calum’s brain quite literally cant form a full sentence, y/n’s words, her touch, his guilt, his brain is swimming in mush.

“please mama, punish me,” he whimpers “i’ve been so fucking bad,” he grips the posts tight, his knuckles turning white.

“roll over and lay on your stomach, hands go back just as they were,” she commands and sits up to let him roll over, even though she’s showing dominance she’s still trying to be gentle, calum thought. he feels a sting on his bare ass along with a loud smack. he grips the posts in his hands and bites his lip, his gasp is the only thing that is heard in the silence of the room. y/n gains a little confidence and slaps his ass again, biting her lip as she watches it bounce against the friction of her hand.

“such a bad boy,” she whispers into his ear. she’s leaning beside his head, looking him directly in the eyes. cal’s face flushes and she leans down to kiss his cheek, “if any of this is overwhelming in anyway, please tell me to stop,” she says, totally serious and runs her hand through his hair gently. he nods and she leans down to peck his lips softly.

“please keep going,” he whimpers against her mouth, “been so bad i need to be reprimanded,” he says, shooting her a smirk.

y/n goes back between his legs, toying with his balls, laying another smack on his ass, making his body jolt up. she sits up, spreading his ass cheeks and spits a wealthy amount onto his puckered hole, he lets out a high pitched whimper while he anticipates her next move. looking up at him as she uses her hand that is free from his sack and uses her thumb to spread her saliva around, lubing him up nicely. she looks up at him for approval to keep going which he grants quickly. her thumb dips into his tight asshole, he lays his head into her pillows, tightening his grip on her bed posts and shuts his eyes as she stretches him out.

“holy shiiiiiit,” he whimpers after he turns his head back to try to get a glance at her. she slides her thumb out making calum whimper at the loss but is quickly reassured as she slides her pointer finger in, sucking his balls into her mouth, his brain is overwhelmed with pleasure and all his body can do is spasm at her touch. his orgasm just around the corner. y/n knows his body language too well and can tell that he’s so close. she doesn’t want him to release just yet.

“so needy,” y/n says and bites onto his ass cheek. “think you’ve been punished enough?” she asks leaving one last smack on his ass before she nudges his hip for him to roll over.

he immediately rolls onto his back and tries to grip her hair, wanting some type of control which she slaps his hand. hard. “hands back up…” she says taking his wrists and leans him up back to the posts “...and lean up against the headboard,” she adds and helps him sit up, “I’m gonna ride you, keep your hands on the posts.” he nods, his ability to conversate has gone out the window along with his sobriety. y/n is his drug and he’s an addict.

she reaches up onto her headboard to use as leverage before she turns around, getting in the reverse cowgirl position then she aligns herself and slides down on his cock, sighing at how he fills her up perfectly.

calum can’t stop staring at her ass bouncing deliciously on his cock, the way she wraps around him so tightly. her movements start to speed up as his cock is hitting her spongy button, her body writhing above his. she’s using her hands to keep her leverage which gives calum the best angle, his moans mixing with hers.

“fuck, your pussy swallows my cock so good, always,” he whimpers which brings y/n so close to her edge.

“oh my god i’m so close, fuck,” she moans out, he takes her vulnerability as a chance as he takes his hands off of the posts, lifting her ass up and starts fucking up into her, her screams start flowing out like water. he pulls her back against his front, bringing his hand up to her throat squeezing just enough to make her breathing labor.

she starts grinding down on him, pushing his cock into her g-spot and she’s done for, her orgasm takes her over as she gasps. his hand moves from her throat to her breasts, swallowing them with his hands and before he can comprehend the squeezing and clenching of her pussy, he’s releasing inside of her, both of them trembling as she leans back against him and he leans against the headboard, both catching their breaths.

“you think you can just leave me for somebody else? we both know damn well that nobody else can fuck you like that,” she whispers, her head leaning against his shoulder. he shakes his head with a breathless chuckle, his mind still in subspace.

“god i love you,” he whispers, biting his lip.

“calum-“ you start to which he interrupts.

“no, y/n nobody cares like you, nobody loves like you, nobody feels like you. you are the most unique person i’ve ever met; I don’t want anybody else to have you and I don’t want to have anybody else.” he says and runs his hand up your leg and intertwines your fingers.

“are you just saying this stuff because you’re still in subspace?” you whisper, giggling a little making you clench around him which makes both of you let out a little moan at the realization that he’s still inside of you.

“no, i’ve been thinking about this for a while, i tried to distract myself with other girls but i physically cant fathom not having you in my life,” he says. your heart stops and you look back at him, biting your lip, your mouth not being able to move.

calum, Calum, calum, Calum Hood, the man that you had moved in with when you moved to los angeles, the man who so graciously took you out your first night and there you met jason. you’d drunkenly stumbled into him and made a complete fool out of yourself, he thought you were charismatic and gorgeous so after sharing a drink or two, you exchanged numbers and the rest was history. if it weren’t for calum, you wouldn’t have met him. if you didn’t have that same night, all those drinks with jason, you and calum wouldn’t have started this whole situation together, you two wouldn’t be here. right now. together. his cock still inside you, warming and filling you up. that first time that you two shared wasn’t only the first for you two, it was the first time for you in general. he was your first and your last (a couple in between but we won’t ruin the moment). he was your first passionate kiss as well, even though you shared it just an hour ago. now you can see, he’s the only man you could ever see or think about. in a crowded club, on stage, in your house, in your bed, he consumed you.

“y/n please say something,” he says his voice low, nervous, he brings you out of your thoughts. you literally couldn’t say anything so you did the next best thing, you reach around yourself and cup the side of his face, looking into his eyes—your favorite color—then kiss him, the most magical, sparkle between the two of you had lit. You lift yourself off of him, causing yourself to whimper into his mouth at the emptiness in your abdomen before you turn fully around climbing onto your knees, feeling a subtle drip between your legs. he wraps his arms around your waist and he sits up with you, reciprocating the kiss as well not daring to break it. he runs his hand up your clammy back and gently lays you back into the bed, your hands burying themselves into his hair out of muscle memory.

cal runs his hands down your front, gently taking your breasts into his hands then runs his mouth down to your neck, leaving love marks into your tender skin. your eyes roll to look at the ceiling, calum’s touch so gentle like he’s afraid he’d break you. you both were so fragile, so vulnerable. his mouth taunts at your right nipple, his hips grinding down into your core. the heat rising in your stomach, you whimper into the quiet air.

“calum, come here,” you whisper, your hand tugging on his hair and he lifts himself up, his mouth hovering over yours.

“yes?” he whispers, his lips grazing over yours and his breath fans over your lips and chin.

“i love you,” you whisper. he chuckles, his smile bright and his eyes squint. you meet him in the middle as he kisses your lips, both of your tongues dancing together.

he pulls away just for a second to look into your bright eyes—full of love and lust— for your consent. with a gentle nod he slides himself in once more, filling you up even more than before the extra full feeling being your newfound love.

you suddenly feel just how sensitive you were which causes a whimper to escape your mouth and your pussy to clench around him. he groans in your ear at the friction and he bites onto your earlobe.

his hips start thrusting at a faster pace, knowing neither of you were going to last much longer due to the sensitivity you both were sharing. he swivels his hips just at the right angle causing him to hit your g-spot and you let out a yelp.

“oh god yes, please cal, fuck me,” you whimper, he obliges. his hips going on the same route to meet your g-spot with his tip repeatedly, each time you clench around him. he goes even harder and faster until he has you seeing stars, your eyes meeting as you feel a snap in your abdomen, your body convulsing under him at the same time he snaps as well climaxing inside of you, his hand coming up to meet yours beside your head, intertwining your fingers and squeezing.

as he pulls out you both wince and he lays down next to you. he pulls you into his side and lays a kiss where your shoulder and neck meet. you smile dazed and hum intertwining your fingers with the hand that’s wrapped around your waist. he outstretches your hands and plays with your fingertips, making you giggle.

“i love you,” you whisper.

calum hums, “say it again,” he whispers.

“i love you… i love you, i love you, i love you,” you whisper right back and he smiles against your shoulder, looking at your hands as he still plays with your fingers.

“i love you, too,” he whispers and lays another kiss against your neck.

he was also your first love...

[strawberrymilkloadingscreen]

Giving Up the Ghost Chapter 1 (Rise TMNT) (Donnie x Black&Female! Reader)

“Holy shit they’re turtle demons.”

You hadn’t believed April when she said that the demons and ghosts you were obsessed with lived in her tiny apartment. Every time you’d gone over in the last year and a half there hadn’t been that sort of itchy energy that you associated with demons, or the more groggy and cold one that came with ghosts. In fact, she didn’t live in a building considered a hot haunting zone online, her entire block was ghost free, and even the little sub place she was working at didn’t have a lick of phantom energy.  

April O’Neil was as normal as could be.

However, there wasn’t anything you could say to refute the very clear evidence in front of you. Four gigantic turtles with weapons were crowded in your friend’s living room, yellow paint splattered on them, April, and the walls.

April scratched her head and ended up smearing hazard yellow paint through her cherry red curls. “Heeeey. What’re you doing here?”

“Me? Can we start talking about them?”

“Them? Psht! They’re just-“

A turtle in blue set a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, April. Talking about secret hobbies is embarrassing, but coming clean will do the body good. Like milk.”

“Leo…”

“The truth is that we’re… cosplaying.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “Seriously? That’s the best thing you can come up with? Even without my token I can practically see the energy coming from you.”

“Human girl say what?”

“She probably means the trace bits of mutagen from the oozsquitos in our blood.” A purple one muttered. “Which, I mean, is fair and accurate. Better question is how she can see anything since looking at her she’s obviously a normal everyday human.”

“WHOOOA!” You leaned back as an orange clad turtle got eye level with your chest. You weren’t sure when he got there, and that part concerned you more than a little. “What’s that!”

“What’s… Oh.” You plucked up the gem that had a perfect hole in the middle of it. “It’s the token. It lets me see ghosts, demons, but not 5’3 turtles dressed in neon orange.”

“It’s a great color. Is that violet or lavender?”

“I dunno? What are you?”

“Well I’m a warm shade of green with-“

The largest turtle plucked the smaller orange one up with one hand, and easily set him with all the others. “We’re mutants that are turtles… And ninjas. So don’t say a thing or we’ll make you disappear.”

“Isn’t that Hypno’s thing?” The one in blue wondered.

“Leo I’m trying to keep her from spilling our secret, annnd she’s fainting.”

You were in fact fainting into a pile of pure excitement and worry onto April’s paint splattered floor. The last thing you saw was April’s baseball bat, and four flinching turtles trying to get out her glitter encrusted door…

_______________________________________________________________

You ended up waking up on your front porch with a bottle of vodka tucked under your arm. You weren’t sure if it was April’s way to say sorry, or if it was to give your landlord and other passerby the idea that you passed out drunk. Either way the booze was welcome as you made your way out of the muggy summer heat and into the ice cold of your apartment. Your roommate’s cat, Xena, meowed at your return and followed you about as you took off your boots at the door. You went to the counter and pushed aside empty Chinese takeout boxes and mail to make room for the vodka.

With that task completed you quickly stripped, and tossed out the paint encrusted clothes in the trash, before cramming yourself in the shower and scrubbing hard. “How was I not robbed and murdered?”

Probably because you looked crazy. A Ouija board shirt and some booze was enough to make a handful of people back away from you; a wonderful lesson that college parties and your small town had taught you. The wet paint was probably another great deterrent. Whatever the case you were thankful enough not to get mad at the splotches that wouldn’t scrub off your dark skin. You quickly hopped out and towel dried before pulling on some comfy clothes and going back into the kitchen.

You paused beside a large tank sitting on top of some stacked books. With a groan you popped down on your knees and peered inside, a soft smile curling on your lips as you watched the turtle sitting on a pastel rock. “Hey Venus. Comfy?”

“Awe, are you talking to your turtle?” Your skin jumped and you quickly stood rod straight. “Hey don’t get jumpy on me now. Just me.”

“I mean it’s normal to get jumpy when around a walking talking garbage disposal.”

“I’d be offended if it wasn’t true.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the bottle of vodka. “What are you even doing here, Ricky? Jessie won’t be back for another week.”

“Forgot my phone charger here last night.” He waved the blue device around. “Oh, by the way, there was another haunting out at my Ma’s. Said she saw the pots moving. Think you could take a look?”

Ghosts… Wait, that was why you went to go see April. You’d seen some new ghost documentary on a streaming service, and you’d made plans with her to see it. When you got there…

Turtles.

Well, the red one said they were also ninja. That sounded utterly ridiculous, but you weren’t inclined to argue with demons or ghosts. Not that you had met that many, four in total including the ones today, but you’d read enough materials to know that it would be stupid to do so! Old ladies out in China Town though…

“Sorry Ricky, but I’ve got my plate full. Can you tell her I’ll try to make it some other time?”

“No prob. Pretty sure she’s just lonely and making up stuff to get some visitors. Should really go out there and scrapbook with her again now that I think about it.” He slicked back his blue hair. “Anyway, I’m heading out. If Jessie calls tell them I want some nudes”

“…No.”

“How about ‘I love you’.”

“Better.”

You waited until you heard the soft click of the door and snap of the lock before you went over to the cabinet and popped open a soda. You took a good swig before adding a splash of the vodka, and going back to the living room. Xena decided to take over your legs, but you couldn’t complain as you grabbed your laptop and began to do what you did best. Blogs were examined, newspaper articles scanned, and plenty of folklore was cracked open between sips of your boozy treat.

There were plenty of things for ninja that would come up for New York City. Everything from comic-cons, movie sets, and even a few historical events for museums. You were getting something similar for turtles as well. A new friend donated to the zoo, a fundraiser for conservation, and plenty of art meant to beautify the city.

However, when you entered the terms for humanoid turtles that’s when things were getting sketchy. Strange photos out outlines in a fish and ladder market, far more convincing ones during the hippo turtle meme a few years back, and a shaky video of black blobs ziplining down to a rooftop pool.

The more that you saw them the less you were convinced these things were demons or ghosts. Some type of cryptid maybe? Aliens? However, the term ninja made you lean more towards monsters, to be more specific kappa. Turtles that would drown their victims, rip orbs out of asses, and had a strange love for cucumber. You ended up falling asleep with Xena asleep on your keyboard and the new knowledge armed in your brain.

That was why you found yourself standing outside April’s, now non glittery, door the next morning. You had a basket hanging off your arm, and your cellphone fisted in your free hand. You kicked at the door, and only moments later it was ripped open by a still yellow streaked April.

“Oh it’s you…”

“Don’t get all excited to see me.”

The two of you stood in silence for a long moment, nervous smiles on both your faces and the air thick with tension. You took a deep breath and held out the basket full of sake and kappa.

“Here!”

“What is it?”

You looked away, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip until it stung. “Well, you had kappa in your house, and I wanted to give that as a peace offering. I dunno how you managed to meet kappa of all things in NYC, but I’m not gonna judge… Or tell. Especially that last one.”

April stared at the basket for a long moment, before looking at you with an equally bewildered look. She held up a single finger, before pulling her phone out of her pocket and tapped something out on it. “Wha-? You think they’re monsters from Japanese folklore? Girl, you really went all out with that vodka, huh?”

“I dunno what they were. One minute I was in your house, and the next it’s a mess and you have huge ass turtles in there. Isn’t that just the most interesting thing to ever happen!”

“Ahhhh not really?”

“Well, I guess you’re used to it. That’s fair.”

April gave a soft sigh before opening her door up all the way, and gesturing for you to come inside. “Look, I think the two of us are gonna have to have a long talk. Want some coffee?”

“Only if you’ve got whipped creamer.”

“Don’t you know it.”

You followed her into the apartment and your nervousness melted away. "So how'd you meet them?" "Well it all started when I was a kid thanks to a sad sad trolling attempt..."

[fanfictiondreamscape]

Where the Hell am I? (pt. 1)

Title: Where the Hell am I? (pt. 1) 

Genre: comedy, lil floofy (if you squint, I promise), and a lil dramatic - mostly comedic, though. 

Pairing: Aizawa Shota x Reader

Notes: This is, yet again, an idea that was pitched to me by one of my friends over Snapchat. I did take some liberties, contrary to their idea, but I read it and I just HAD to do it. 

Frankly, it made me so happy! I thought that I’d split this, maybe not, but if you want another character (or characters) for this prompt - please let me know!

Some warnings, though; there will be plenty of swearing, so proceed with caution! The reader is also aged up, 21+ purely for the comfort of the writer. I imagine them to be around 24-25, but go about it however you like! 

Below the cut! 

“You really need to stop watching that childish garbage, y’know. You’re too old for that.”

“Grow up already! People your age don’t watch shit like that!” 

“None of that will help you get by in life; stop watching that and get your life together already!”

AKA, things I, (Y/n) (L/n) hear on a daily basis. 

Hello, dear reader! I’m (Y/n), as you’ve already presumed, and according to my family and friends, I waste my time watching what they call ‘immature junk’. I like to call it anime, but whatever floats their boat. 

I have graduated from college, but I still live with a couple of roommates. My diploma has been sitting on the stack of boxes in the corner of my junk, and no matter how hard I’ve tried, the degree has never seemed to win over anybody in the field.

I’ve struggled with a job hunt for a while now, and I’m getting tired of trying to find something that can tie me over for a little while. I know that the job wouldn’t last, something that has followed me around for the longest time no matter how well I completed any given tasks, but I need something to pitch to the split rent. 

I like to think that my roommates haven’t thought of kicking me to the curb as well, but frankly, they’ve probably found a way to do that or leave my ass sat on the empty apartment floor. Whatever the case, things haven’t been working out well for me at all. 

I’ve been broke on and off as of late, and the only things I have managed to keep consistent was my laptop ownership, my phone ownership, and my clothing and personal items. I’ve been making sure that I have cut back on using many things, but it was starting to bite me now. 

Today, of all days, was the one day that everything was seemingly coming to a head. My roommates were both at each other’s throats and took their frustration out on me (for no reason, honestly - I had already paid my portion of the utilities for the the month and had stayed quiet), my mom had just been admitted to the hospital, and my sibling has been taunting me from her fancy-schmancy upscale home by calling me a loser, deadbeat, etc. - all in all, a shitty day. 

Normally, things like this wouldn’t bother me that much (aside from the pandemic confirmation), but this has been a long time coming and I was at my breaking point. 

That night, I had just let everything be. Not a good thing considering the note that they were left on, but I can’t deal with the presence of people that are immature assholes that haven’t been taught to face your issues head-first, and I am too tired to put up with it anymore. 

I grabbed my laptop and opened up my Funimation account. If I could trust no one in the physical world, then I could trust someone in the fictional world instead. 

I had scrolled through, but when I saw that I had watched everything I planned to, I made the final decision to rewatch one - that anime being Boku No Hero Academia, I was pretty content to watch these teenagers grow in a way that I was unable to - nostalgic value in the anime can be spotted, but you have to look closely. 

The opening narration by Deku had started, and as the episodes continued, I got tired. I don’t remember when this happened, but I think I actually fell asleep around episode 5. No matter, things started to blur and I slept. 

...

Everything felt warm and windy, my clothes were brushing against my hands, and I felt extremely groggy. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Well, except for the fact that I felt like I was sleeping on a literal rock, and it was seemingly moving. 

The rocking of whatever it was I was laying on was what woke me up completely, all the sleep forgotten in favor of figuring out what the object was. Looking down, it seemed to be a sheet of metal, and my god - did it stink. ‘Am I laying down in a dumpster?’

After looking down, I did indeed find out that I was sleeping near one. Or in one. Whatever fits, I guess. 

Everything about this situation seemed like I had, somehow, fallen into a blackout drunk stupor. The likelihood of that happening, though, is very low - I have actively avoided any alcohol intake following my 21st birthday. And I had apparently decided to become an emotional drunk when I did reach that point, so that was even more unlikely. 

With that knowledge, this seemed especially fishy. I had to get to the bottom of it. 

I had slipped out of the area slowly, making sure to not accidentally cut my leg or arm on a raw metallic edge, and tread down the alley that I had been sleeping in. 

I didn’t recognize the buildings around me, everything seemed to be a lot more colorful and definitely an extremely far departure from the decrepit, run-down shithole that I had to call a ‘house’. The sky was also so much bluer than what I was used to. 

My parents and other family lived in better areas than I did, but that sky wasn’t what got me - it was the commotion that was coming from around the corner. The sound was so familiar, and I just couldn’t help but assume something crazy: did I land in the world of My Hero? 

‘No, no, no - that’s not possible. That can’t be possible. Your roommates have just lost their shit and threw you out on the street.’ That had to be it, it had to be. There was no other possible situation, though they would have just thrown my ass to the curb and not a dumpster in a generally clean city. 

Yeah, they couldn’t have done that. Or, maybe they did want to kick me out but realized that throwing me out in the dumpster would warrant some legal claims against them, so they decided to inform a family member that actually gave a damn. Then again, the one that was closest lived over two states away, so that also wouldn’t happen so quick. 

“Ugh, my head hurts...”

A crash sounded through the alleyway, and I had made the conclusion that if I don’t leave now, I would get crushed under debris. That being decided, I made a mad dash out of said alley to the opposite end of the sound.

As soon as I left, the obnoxious technicolor of it all made me do a double take. What the hell is with this color palette?

“Are you lost?” 

I jumped from the question. It wasn’t until I turned around that something hit me: yeah, this is most definitely N O T my world. 

The person that had inquired my direction status had a huge spike sticking out of either hand. Their head was shaped normally, their eyes were a dark blue color, and they had short hair. I couldn’t tell if they were male or female, or even non-binary, but I was too freaked out to care. Best bet for this situation, though, was to go with the flow no matter what happens. I refuse to risk my safety any further. 

“I, uh...um, yeah. Yeah, I am lost - but may I ask who wants to know?”

They breathed a sigh of relief, and their hands transformed into regular ones. The only explanation for this was that I was going crazy, or that I really landed in the world of My Hero. “Oh, thank god. I thought you were a villain for a second. Follow me before you get hit,” they said before they directed me further away from the soon-to-be-destroyed building. 

We had made some small talk - if you could even call it that - as we evacuated, and I found out that their name was Dylan. They were apparently an off-duty hero, though that could be left up to debate considering no hero would voluntarily reveal their identity to someone on the street. Though they could have also assumed that I was a regular citizen, as well. 

Didn’t help that I was still completely and utterly fucked on the front of knowledge - still confused, for a shorter explanation. 

The commotion was still very prevalent as I continued walking with Dylan, and when we finally reached the town, the volume was so much more deafening. The sight was as well. 

Two people were fighting in mid-air, one with a dark jacket and leather pants. Gloves were on their hands, but the big kicker was their mouth - it was almost warped into a joker smile, cuts and all, but it was full of teeth. Their eyes, from what I could see from my spot  on the ground, were very large and red. I wish I could have seen more, though. 

The other one was wearing some garb that mimicked Deadpool, though it was very obviously not him since there were some very obvious legs that were protruding from each side of their body. If I was observing them correctly, too, there were eight legs and multiple eyes. A spider hero? Like, a literal spider hero? 

“(Y/n), I’m sure that you’re curious and a little freaked out, but I’m going to ask that you stay here with the crowd,” Dylan said. They laid their hand on my shoulder as I stared at the view in front of me. I absently nodded, muttering a small and measly, “Got it,” as the realization of everything sunk in. 

I really am in the My Hero world. I really landed in a fictional world. 

Holy shit, I’m completely and totally screwed. 

There are so many things that could go wrong, so many things that would warrant a worry. Besides that, though, the thing that’s just hit me now that I know that I’m in their world is the most worrying. 

Whose quirk got so screwed that I got transported here? Do I have to find that person to return to my world? Even then, was this done on purpose? In that case, would they want to send me back? What if it’s a villain and they want something? So many things can go so severely wrong. 

I couldn’t leave my head now. I could, quite literally, die here and no one would notice. 

My blank stare didn’t go unnoticed by certain citizens around me, but their attention was soon diverted - as was mine - at the newest occurrence on the scene. The spider hero was dropping lower, the (supposed) villain was falling quickly to the floor, and another hero stood above the two on top of a nearby building. Cheers erupted through the crowd as the commotion was met with flashing lights, news reporters, and gossip writers. 

It took a second for me to notice, but the other hero on the building was Kamui Woods. Though I would later find this out, too, Mt. Lady was taking care of the runaway villain - she blew up larger with said villain in her hands a bit away from the scene with a triumphant smirk. 

Though there was some slight commotion from the shaken media reporters, they quickly fell back into their goals and started to plow through the crowd. People were being pushed left, right, and forward.

Through this chaos, though, I noticed Dylan pushing against the people looking winded. Eventually, they made it to me while panting. “Okay, so,” they began, “We should probably leave now, but I want to ask you some questions.”

I shrugged, taking a deep breath. “You need to ask, fire away. I need some answers anyway.”

We settled on a nearby restaurant, Dylan offering to pay for whatever food I ordered, and got down to the questions. 

“I noticed that you were stiff when you saw the fight. It wasn’t the normal kind of stiff, either.” 

Dylan’s words seemed off. How could they see a difference in shock between me and the citizens? A villain attack is a villain attack, right? 

“It was more...upset, for lack of a better word. What’s going on with that?” they inquired, making me stiffen. I didn’t realize that I was that odd in the crowd.

I wasn’t sure how to phrase my answer, but I had to say something. Unless I said it straight out, this would probably be a failure to explain. And people may look at me like I’ve lost it. 

“Well...I...”

Dammit.

I’ve just gotta say it. 

“I think I’ve been transported between realities. This one isn’t mine, I fell asleep in a dingy apartment, woke up here, and I’m-”

“Okay, I think I have an idea of what’s going on. I could help you, but it may take some time. Until then, let’s find a way to make sure that you don’t get screwed while you’re here, sound good?”

I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful. Then the thought hit me.

“Wait, how would you know? How can I trust you? Prove that you’re a hero, and then I’ll think about that offer.”

They chuckled a little, seemingly nonplussed, and reached for their hero license. After taking a look at it, I determined that this was a real license. You can’t get one unless you passed the exam, and even then, there are very few circumstances in which you can get one and not be a hero. 

“Getting closer, but still not there. I need more proof.”

Nodding again, they grabbed their cell and opened their messages in front of me. Their phone screen was face up, and they turned it to face me. I saw messages between Kamui and Dylan. I scrolled through the messages to make sure that they weren’t faked, and the image moved. 

“One more thing. If that’s the case, then tell me what your quirk is.”

“Well, my quirk is body morphing, or shape shifting. I can’t shift into anything that’s living, though - and I can’t keep up form for too long of a time. That enough for you?”

I paused, weighing the options - they’ve shown enough awareness, and they do have proof for what I provided, but how can I be sure that this isn’t just a ploy to trap a citizen and get the attention of the heroes? 

“Okay, here’s what I am gonna do - I’m going to trust you. I have nowhere else to go, nor do I have any idea as to why I’m here, and I can’t go about life here without some help,” I uttered, urgency (and possibly a little fear) in my tone of voice. 

With a nod, their bouncy curls following the action. They seemed satisfied, and I had finally found some sense of stability.

I can now figure this shit out.