#eh I’m sure you’ll figure it out

[nellyellie]

OH. I HAVEN’T THOUGHT ABT IT BEFORE BUT. OH I WOULD DO ANYTHING…

A fic with Regulus as Jinx, Tom Riddle as Silco and Vi as Sirius would feed me like you wouldn't believe

[sluttywonwoo]

So wonwoo likes to sleep naked eh… that’s um, useful information

you’ve had hundreds of sleepovers with your best friend, that’s why you don’t think anything of it when you slip into bed beside him— only to feel his bare hip brush up against yours.

you hadn’t told him you were coming over, hadn’t announced yourself when you slipped into his room, hadn’t thought you needed to. mingyu, his roommate, let you in without a word when he saw the state you were in, jerking his head in the direction of wonwoo’s room before disappearing into his own.

you figured your best friend must still be awake, likely hunched over his keyboard with his noise canceling headphones blocking out the world. but his room is dark when you enter and you can hear him snoring softly.

you smile to yourself and set your bag on his desk chair. you had been looking forward to talking to him, looking forward to the advice he’d give you (that you probably wouldn’t take) when you told him about the new shitty guy you’re seeing, but that would have to wait. for now, you’ll settle for crawling into bed with him and praying for rest.

only, now you know you won’t be getting any sleep any time soon.

what the fuck are you supposed to do? try and sneak back out? what if he wakes up? and it’s not like you can stay. that’ll only make it weirder.

“hm, what time is it?”

you freeze, hoping he hasn’t noticed you lying right beside him, even though the fact that he’s speaking out loud implies that he knows you’re there. his brain takes a second to catch up, though, and then he’s scrambling to rip the comforter from your grasp to cover himself— even though you couldn’t see anything before anyway.

“what the fuck are you doing here?!”

“mingyu let me in!”

“i didn’t ask how you got in, i asked why.”

“i… couldn’t sleep at my place.”

he softens at that. “nightmares?”

you shake your head. “it just felt… wrong.”

he nods even though you’re sure he doesn’t understand. how could he understand?

“i keep telling you not to let them sleep over,” he mumbles. “they always leave weird energy behind.”

so maybe he does get it.

“i’m sorry,” is all you offer.

he’s the one to shake his head this time. “you know you’re always welcome here. just, send a guy a text next time?”

you snort. “what, you don’t want to wake up naked in bed with your best friend?”

“i never said that,” wonwoo clarifies. your smile wanes as you process what he’s implying. “i’d just rather her also be naked.”

[heartswithinreach]

LaDS with an autistic MC

a/n: another one i’m writing for me. but i tried to touch on different symptoms so others can feel included 😊

Xavier

He’s been asked if he’s on the spectrum more than once so he’s aware of what autism is but not much else.

That quickly changes when Xavier finds out you’re autistic. He does as much research as he can, both through books and online articles, and then subtly does his own study with you.

If he’s on his phone, you can bet he’s noting your preferences (food, texture, smells) and your interests for future reference.

Pleasantly surprised by how you start to change as you become more comfortable around him. He’s very glad to be allowed into your inner world.

Xavier never wants you to feel like a burden or you’re broken somehow. You are simply you. And he wouldn’t change a thing about his beloved partner.

Zayne

Autistic!MC 🤝 Autistic!Zayne

Zayne was diagnosed before you but didn’t pay it much attention until you got the same diagnosis in your teenage years. He added autism to his studies for medical school, learning how to care for you and himself at the same time.

When you come back into his life, he surprises you by remembering all the strategies and signals you made to support each other when you were young.

Masking has always been difficult for him. Hiding aspects of himself exhausts him so he makes sure you know you never, ever have to pretend with him. You can be yourself around him.

Zayne is in no rush when it comes to how your relationship evolves. You can both take your time in figuring this out and he’ll always be there.

Rafayel

“Yeah, I knew you were a weirdo from the day we met.”

Rude! But if you were worried telling him would change how Rafayel sees you, you have nothing to worry about. He’s loved you for so long, it’s just something new about you he gets to discover.

He loves how radiant your smile is when you talk about your interests. He could listen to you for hours, just basking in your light.

Rafayel also loves the opportunity to play hero.

“What’s wrong, cutie? You’re anxious and wanna leave early? Eh, this party was boring, anyway. Come on, I’ll get you something sweet on the way home. Don’t worry about offending anyone, I’ll take care of everything — you just breathe, okay?”

Sylus

With how rocky the beginning of your relationship was, it’s not unreasonable to think he would get frustrated with you the same way he did when you couldn’t resonate with him.

But no. Sylus is actually your most fierce and loyal advocate and very protective of your peace of mind.

He takes care of potential issues before you can even think of them and is slowly turning his home into a place of comfort for you — while keeping his aesthetic, of course.

Sylus happily allows you to cling to him in public, taking pride in how you go to him for protection. And if you have to go somewhere alone, you’ll hear Mephisto’s cry following you.

Never touches you without warning and always stops at the first sign of discomfort. Anyone who doesn’t do the same is swiftly handled by Luke and Kieran.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back to work but still hurting.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You’re grateful only for the reprieve of Sy’s shower. He spends at least an hour in the bathroom but it’s not nearly enough time to figure this out. He’s not going anywhere and you have no way of changing that. And with how things are going, it won’t be long before you’re entirely trapped with him. 

The helplessness suffocates you. You slowly get up, needing to do something, anything to keep your thoughts from spiralling further. Or him. 

You go to the kitchen and pull out some chicken. Even with your recent shop, what you have won’t last. Not with two people. You marinate the tender breast as you pull out the jasmine rice and your mini rice cooker. Everything you have is built for one, it’s another reminder that he’s invaded your life. 

The bathroom door opens and you stay hidden in the kitchen. It’s only as he calls your name that you poke your head out. You don’t want him to think you’ve tried to escape again. Imagine that, escaping your own life. 

“Here,” you squeak and your mouth hangs open. He stands in only a towel. It’s low enough that the trail of hair along his stomach grows thicker just above the knot. Your lashes flick and you cough, “just starting dinner. Jerk chicken and... and rice.” 

“Sounds delicious,” he grins and runs his fingers through his beard. “Much better than field rations, eh, Aika?” 

He whistles at the dog and she perks her ears up. Sy sighs and drops his arms, smiling at you dreamily. Your eyes wander to the scars all over his body; a thick raised one along his ribs and smaller ones flecked along his shoulder and a line on his lower stomach. 

“I’ll get dressed,” he rubs his hands together, “can’t be eatin’ in my towel, huh?” 

“Sure, uh, I... I’ll be in here.” 

You go back into the kitchen and stare at the rice maker. You see the reflection of his scarred mind in his body. Again you can’t help the rent in your heart. That sympathy that underlines your fear. He’s a tortured soul but not one you can soothe. You don't know where to begin. 

You put the chicken in the oven and set the rice to cook. Next you look for a veggie. Broccoli. Standard. You’ll add a bit of seasoning. You’re not very hungry, even as the aromas rise in the air. 

“God, it’s hot in here,” Sy growls as he appears in the doorway that opens to the dining space.  

“It’s the oven,” you say as rinse the head of broccoli, “sorry.” 

“Ah, you know, it’s not half so bad as the desert,” he chuckles, “Aika knows. The way the sand gets all in your mouth and—and everywhere else.” 

“I can’t imagine,” you murmur, “wouldn’t be a day at the beach, I’m sure.” 

“Mm, no,” he agrees as he leans on the wall, “not a bad idea. I could take ya down for a beach day. We could get some good pictures. A few videos.” 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” you focus on your task. You put the broccoli on the cutting board and pull out a knife. 

“You want me to get that, sweetie? Don’t wanna cut yourself now,” he pushes away from the wall. 

“No, I got it,” you line up the knife and chop the head in half. He winces. 

“It’s dangerous, you got a smaller one?” 

“Really, Sy, I’m fine,” you insist as he looms closer, “let me just get dinner ready and you can sit--” you hiss as you pull your finger back at the sudden slip. 

“I told ya,” he accuses as he grabs your hand and examines it. His grip is iron and you don’t resist. There’s no blood. 

“It was just my nail,” you wiggle the top of your finger, “please--” 

“Let me do it,” he insists and reaches for your other hand, “give me the knife, sweetie.” 

You hesitate but hand it over. You’re not sure why he’s so nervous about it. Still, there’s no sense fighting over sharp objects. 

“We gotta work together, don’t we?” He says as he chops.  

“Sure,” you agree thinly. 

You turn to get a sheet pan for the broccoli. You’ll dress in oil and some spices, maybe a bit of lemon juice. As you lay parchment paper over it, he drops the knife in the sink. 

He remains, crowding you as he watches you work. You spread out the little branches and drizzle them over. You put them in beside the chicken and rinse off your hands. You dry off and glance over at Sy. He's watching you. 

“You really don’t have to stay out here,” you say. 

“I like being around you,” he grins, “still can’t believe it’s real.” 

Me neither, you think. 

“Well, all that’s left is the waiting,” you set a timer, “so...” 

“Ah, well, s’pose we can do that on the couch.” 

“Oh, well, I was gonna get the laundry together,” you say, the excuse popping up spontaneously. 

“Why don’t you wait ‘til tomorrow?” 

“Right, uh, I wanted to get it done. I need to get back to my commissions tomorrow.” 

“Mmm,” he hums flatly, “you work too hard.” 

You withhold a mean thought. He hasn’t mentioned work since he showed up. What about that desk he was talking about? You know better than to challenge him. You’ll keep the peace as long as you have to. Get through dinner then worry about the real test; bedtime. 

“Alright, let’s sit,” you relent and reach for his large hand.  

It’s not an affectionate gesture, merely appeasing. You can still hear his voice booming and the thump his skull made on the wall. Not to mention the state of his face and the dent in your wall. You can’t forget what he’s capable of. You can’t deny that you’re lucky he only hurt himself. 

He lets you guide him out of the kitchen and you try not to show your reticence. You won’t think of what happened on the couch last time. Besides, you can’t leave the food to burn. 

💗

You eat at the table. It’s an excuse for some space. As you waited for the timer to save you, you were trapped in his embrace. His constant touching and cooing. You should be flattered when someone tells you you’re pretty and perfect but he just makes you want to combust. 

You can hardly stay still. You clear the table and tidy up what mess is left in the kitchen. You can hear him prowling in the other room. You wipe down the table and peek up as he stops to watch you. 

“Almost done?” He asks. 

“Sure, uh, I’ll finish and get washed up for the night.” 

“Washed up?” He echoes. 

“Brush my teeth, wash my face, all that,” you explain. 

“Oh, yeah, makes sense.” 

“What about Aika? She need to go out?” 

He stops and looks at the dog, still laying at the door. 

“She should,” he intones grimly, “I’ll take her then.” 

He disappears into the bedroom as you let out a breath. It’s not much. You know you’re just putting off the inevitable. He reemerges with the jangle of keys and you see your phone case peeking out of a pocket in his cargo shorts. He might seem scattered but there’s something about him that assures you he’s just as calculated. 

“I’ll be back,” he assures and stops just by the door, “sure you don’t wanna come with us?” 

You rinse off the cloth and shake it out. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“You should come...” he mumbles. 

“Sy,” you go to the doorway parallel to the apartment door, “I promise, I won’t go anywhere.” 

You have nowhere to go. 

He stares at you. His looks pale and drawn. He cracks his neck as he tilts his head one way then the other. He lets out a long exhale as he sets his head straight and he steps closer. Aika stands, her paws scuffing on the hardwood. You gulp as he makes himself bigger and glares down at you. 

“I know you won’t,” he says quietly, “because you know I’ll follow you anywhere, don’t you, sweetie?” 

You bat your lashes and gulp. You nod, “yes, captain.” 

His lips curve and he reaches to grab you, cradling the back of your head as he pulls you close and kisses your forehead, “good girl. Get nice and fresh for me.” 

He lets you go with a growl and you stand frozen between the counters. Aika watches him with her doleful eyes as he steps into his boots. He opens the door and points her out, not bothering to take the leash with him. She looks at you, wiggling her nose, before she goes. 

The door snaps shut behind Sy and jolt you. You can’t shake the grit in his voice. The subliminal threats laced into his proclamation of devotion. He found you and he’ll find you again, so why bother trying to run? 

You shut off the kitchen light and flit into the bedroom. You gather up a set of pajamas. A white tee and short pairing with little sliced oranges stamped into the fabric. You lock yourself in the bathroom and face yourself in the mirror. You look just as afraid as you feel. 

You lay out the pajamas to one side of the sink and put on the fluffy headband that keeps your hair out of the way. You start your usual routine, the familiarity the only comfort you have left. Brushing flossing, exfoliating, moisturizing, and toning. It’s the little things you started to make yourself feel better but they just aren’t working this time. 

You hear him return as you button up the pajama top. You stare at the door with dread and gather up your shirt and skirt, along with your panties and bra. You teeter on the balls of your feet, trying to find whatever you might call courage. He gets there first. 

The knock makes you jump. You quickly go to the door and flip back the lock. He opens the door from the other side before you can. 

“Everything okay?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you answer dumbly as you hug your armful of clothes. 

“Oh, you look... nice. Refreshed.” 

“Um, yeah,” you say as you waver. There’s no room to get around him. 

He steps back and waves you out. You carry the clothing into the bedroom to dump in the hamper and turn to find him looming in the doorway. Great. 

“You smell good,” he purrs as he peels off his shirt. 

“Did you lock the door?” You ask. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout that. You got me here to take care of ya,” he scoffs and hurls the shirt so it just barely clings to the side of the hamper. “Those are some cute jammies.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you look down and pinch the sides of the shorts. 

“Long day,” he stretches and drops his arms, unbuttoning his shorts shamelessly. 

“Yep,” you agree, “be nice to sleep.” 

You go to the edge of the bed and slip beneath the duvet. You tuck your chin down as you hug yourself beneath the fluffy cover and keep your back to him. He flips the light off and you nearly whimper. The bed dips behind you and cool air flows under the blanket as he climbs in behind you. 

You’re not surprised when he swathes you in his thick arm. He pulls you against him, his furry chest flush to you as he purrs. You grasp his forearm and squirm as his heat surrounds you. He nuzzles your hair and plumes hot breath over your scalp. 

“Ain’t this nice? I could spend every night like this,” he growls as he keeps you curled up in one arm as his other hand trails down your side. “Never slept much over in the s—over there.” 

You squeak and stare into the static darkness. You tremble and force out a yawn. Maybe he’ll get the hint. For once. 

“I’m tired too, sweetie,” he toys with the bottom button on your shirt, “I know I’ll sleep all nice and cozy with you.”  

His fingers tickle your lower stomach and crawl beneath the cotton. You go rigid as he creeps up your soft flesh and you latch onto him as you try to stop him. He presses his lips to your crown. 

“Don’t be bad,” he warns in a gristle. 

You let him go with a babble. He brings his hand to cover one side of your chest. He squeezes and lets out a raspy groan. He rolls his hips and you feel he’s in need again. You close your eyes and brace yourself. It’s worse than the couch. You’ve laid yourself down in his trap. 

��You’re so soft, sweetie,” he fondles you, swirling his rough fingertips around your nipple, “so warm...” he inhales your scent and snarls, “you got me hurtin’ so bad.” 

[7ndipity]

Matching Costumes

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi realizes he likes your costume idea more thank he thought he would.

Warnings: Yoongi’s dressed as a vampire(yes, I think that requires a warning), suggestive, joke about biting, reader wears a dress(?) not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! It’s a little short, and a lil self-indulgent, but I hope you’ll still like it!

Masterlist Spooktober m.list

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Truthfully, Yoongi wasn’t really the biggest fan of Halloween, but he knew that you were, so when he mentioned that the company was having their annual Halloween party and asked if you wanted to go as his date, he knew perfectly well what he was getting himself into, but he couldn’t resist. He loved seeing the way your eyes lit up in excitement, immediately beginning to brainstorm costume ideas for the two of you.

“What do you want to go as?” You’d asked as you scrolled through ideas online.

“Eh, whatever you want to pick is fine,” He’d said easily. “I trust your judgment.”

“Really?” You quirked a brow at him.

“Mmm, to an extent,” He clarified, grinning. “But I’m reserving the right to veto if you choose something too weird.”

“So, no gender swap Mario and Princess Peach?” You teased.

“Definitely not.”

“Damn, back to square one then.” You pouted as you turned your attention back to your phone, making him snicker.

In truth, you’d known what you wanted to get as soon as he’d asked you, but you wanted to browse around a bit before you bought them, just to be sure. You knew it was a lil bit of a cop out and cliche, but you couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Yoongi a bit, getting you matching costumes in the theme of ‘Dracula and his bride’.

It’d been a running joke between the two of you since before you had even started dating that you thought he was secretly a vampire, due to things ranging from his primarily nocturnal work schedule to his consistently cold hands.

Yoongi had rolled his eyes when you showed him the costumes, but hadn’t said no, much to your delight, so you’d quickly ordered the outfits and waited impatiently for the night of the party.

…

“I don’t have to actually wear the fake fangs, do I?” Yoongi asked as he finished buttoning his dress shirt.

“Not unless you want to.” You called from the bathroom, where you were putting on the final touches to your own look.

“I don’t.” He replied, fidgeting with the long, black cape as it refused to hang right over his shoulders.

It wasn’t a bad look on him, he had to admit as he studied his black clad reflection, reminding him faintly of the suit he’d worn for a photoshoot with one of his friends last year.

“You know, we don’t have to actually go to this thing, we could just go to din-?” His suggestion died on his lips as he caught sight of you in the mirror as you entered the room, turning around quickly to see you properly.

The main costume was just a long black dress, cinched in at the waist to emphasize your figure before the skirts flowed down over your hips, your hair styled and pinned back so it showed off your neck, including the carefully painted bite marks you’d placed just above you collarbone. It wasn’t the most elaborate costume, but it had still managed to make his mouth go dry as he took you in, unable to tear his gaze away.

“You’re staring.” Your voice snapped him back to attention.

“No, I wasn’t.” He denied instantly, despite the faint rosy hue that was creeping up his face. “I was just admiring my partner.”

“Mhm.” You nodded.

“I was!”

“I’m not arguing with you.” You laughed, raising a brow at him. “Sheesh, you’re acting like this the first time you’ve seen me in a dress.”

“I have, just not like this.” He said, pulling you in by the waist.

“Like what?” You asked.

“Matching.”

“Really?” You looked up at him in amusement. “You like this?”

“A little.” He admitted.

“Should I get us matching hoodies or sweatsuits too?” You grinned, making him scowl at you.

“Don’t tease me, I’m trying to have a moment here.” He complained, tightening his grip on you.

“Alright, I’m sorry.“ You chuckled, pushing up on your tiptoes to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes, studying his face. “You look really handsome, by the way.”

“You haven’t seen the whole costume.” He said.

“I wasn’t talking about the costume.” You said, grinning as you lightly pecked his lips.

That did it. He quickly ducked his head, chasing your mouth with his, letting out a deep, contented sigh as he caught you in another, longer kiss.

His lips moved slowly against yours at first, before quickly growing more needy and trailing down, latching onto a spot just under your jaw, eliciting a gasp from you when you felt his teeth scrape lightly over the skin.

“Yoongi.” You whined, but not trying to pull away.

“What? You’re the bride of Dracula, it only makes sense that you’d have a few bite marks.” He chuckled, lightly sucking another spot before switching to the other side of your neck to make it match.

“We’re gonna be late.” You stammered, trying to keep focused, but he wasn’t making it easy.

Reluctantly, he pulled back, making your eyes widen at the red that was smudged around his mouth before reaching up to touch your neck.

“Agh, you smudged my makeup!” You realized, your brief alarm shifting to annoyance.

“Like I care.” He smirked, trying to lean back in, but you pulled back just out of his reach.

“Nu-uh, we’ve got a party to go to, Dracula, remember?”

“Do we have to though?” He asked. “I mean, we could just stay here and-”

“Nope,” You stopped him. “I told the other’s we’d be there, we have to at least make an appearance.”

“What if I convince you to stay home?” He questioned lowly.

“And how do you plan to do that?” You asked, foolishly letting him catch you in another kiss.

You never made it to the party.

[shirefantasies]

was thinking about thorins company again and was thinking about a request and my mind jumped to "I wonder how they'd react if reader called them petty." so that's my request. how thorins company would react if the reader told them they were pretty.

Posting back to back because I got asked the same prompt for both stories almost simultaneously hehe! Ok now THIS? This can go one of two ways either so fluffy or so funny 😆 I think it would be divided so:

"OMG you think I'm pretty?": Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Ori, Fili, Kili, Bilbo

"How DARE you I am NOT pretty what do I look like some sort of elf lassie FDGSHVDGSH": Dwalin, Gloin, Nori

*Deadpan voice* What.: Balin, Thorin, Oin, Bifur

Bofur, frankly, is just a bit shell-shocked, but not unpleasantly so; in fact his smile says otherwise. “Well, no one’s ever called me something like that’ before!” Bombur would blush bright red at your words and smile widely. “Me? Really? Coming from someone as pretty as you?” Dori puffs up a bit despite the incredulity upon his face. “I try my best. But really, it- it’s working? Well, I…I…” Ori’s all smiles, sheepishly glancing away from you. “Me? No, I quite think that’s you, actually. Why, if you saw yourself the way I do, you’d know exactly what I mean.” Fili winks at you and flips his hair off his shoulder. “Oh, you think so, do you? Because I’ve thought the same and then some. …huh? About me or you? Maybe both! Just kidding. You’re the only one who’s ever caught my eye.” Kili acts quite similar, throwing you a wink as well. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know that? Ever have I desired an excuse to tell you.” Bright red- that is the only way to describe Bilbo as well, adorable in his stammering. “Me? Well, I try to take my best care of myself, but I don’t know about…. You insist? All right, then I’ll take the compliment so long as I can pay you back with a few. No, no, too late, please listen, because I am quite certain the only pretty one here is you.”

Dwalin’s arms are crossed the moment the word leaves your lips. “You think I’ve gone to war, bloodied my axes and dirtied my nails, just for some young thing to call me pretty?” He scoffs, but you make out the flush upon his cheeks and simply smile, shaking your head with amusement. Gloin is indignant, all but shouting that he hasn’t grown pointy ears or lost his beard, so don’t go acting like he’s one of those elves you can’t even tell maids from lords. “Oh, all right,” you tease, “what do you prefer then? Strapping? Handsome?” That shuts him right up. “What are you on about,” Nori asks you, “eh? Trying to charm something from me? I’ll have you know I’m not some tittering elf maid. You’ll have to try harder than that.” By harder than that, he evidently means the way you grab him by the collar, causing him to cave to your wishes immediately.

Balin freezes at your compliment, tilts his head. His brown eyes search yours. “I beg your pardon?” “You heard me.” Chuckling, he shakes his head. “Haven’t heard anything like that in a long time.” Deadpan describes both Thorin’s voice and expression as he seeks repetition of your statement. “Surely you have been told you cut a majestic figure before?” “Why are you telling me this?” The king responds. “Why do you think?” You shoot back, shaking your head. When the compliment leaves your lips, you can tell Oin is unsure if he heard you correctly; stepping closer, you repeat it breathily, a smile on your lips. “You mean I did- We-he-ell then!” He grins at you. Bifur peers blankly at you. “Yes, you,” you repeat, “need I describe the lovely pattern of your hair, your smile, your little creations you share with me or the way you…” Shaking his head, Bifur smiles and takes your hand.

Rest of the Taglist 😉: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Fringe Benefits

Part of my Birthday Bash!

Request: “you’re spending more time at my desk than at your own” for Roy

Roy Kent x Reader 0.7k words Warnings: Language

“Well, well, well, what have we here?”

You turned around, smiling at Roy as he strolled into his office. He raised his thick eyebrows at you, nodding a greeting. You wondered if he could see the way your eyes flickered down his figure, checking him out, the way you could never resist doing when you saw him.

You’d been working at A.F.C. Richmond for about three months now, having been hired by Keeley Jones to manage their PR. It was a fun job and, if you were being honest, the sight of Roy Kent in those track pants was definitely a perk.

“Hey,” you hummed. “I was just leaving you a note.” You nodded at the sticky note you’d begun to write on before the sound of his growling voice interrupted you. “Got those concert tickets for you and Pheebs for Friday. But make sure you post on your Instagram, alright?” You gave his arm a playful smack. “Or I’m never doing you a favor ever again.”

A smile broke out across that handsome face. “Fuck, thanks a lot. I really appreciate it.” He paused, gazing at you thoughtfully. “This is what, the third time today you’ve been down here?” He narrowed his playful eyes at you. “I think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at your own. What, you using me to get your fucking steps in?”

You rolled your eyes. Okay, maybe your crush on Roy Kent was obvious to everyone at Nelson Road. Keeley teased you about it nonstop. The players, especially Jamie Tartt, often gave you sly, knowing smiles when they saw you make your familiar way to Roy’s office. Even little Phoebe had asked you if you were her Uncle Roy’s girlfriend when she met you at a Greyhounds match- a question she repeated every time you saw her, actually.

“Come on Kent, you know I just come visit you for the snacks.” To punctuate your point, you opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a sweet. With a wink, you popped the treat into your mouth.

Now Roy rolled his eyes at you as he approached you, standing a smidge too close, the way he’d been doing almost since the day you started working at Nelson Road. “And here I thought you came all the way down here for the pleasure of my company.”

Another sweet found its way into your mouth. “Ah, that’s just a fridge benefit, Coach.”

“Fringe benefit, eh?” Roy snorted, his cheeks tinging pink as he glanced down at the floor. Fuck, he looked adorable like this. How could a man look bashful and confident at once? And how could he look so damn good at the same time? “So, you’re basically using me to manage your sweets cravings, then?”

“Afraid so, Kent.”

He nodded as he glanced at you through his lashes. “Then maybe you let me buy you some kind of fruity drink after work today. For your cravings.” He smirked. “And the fridge benefit of my company.”

Could he see the way the color rushed to your cheeks? “O-oh. Yeah. That would be nice.” You took a step back towards the door, needing to run back to your office and call Keeley to squeal- and maybe ask her to come drop off a change of clothes. “I’ll see you after work then.” As you turned, hoping you didn’t sound as nervous as you suddenly felt, Roy cleared his throat.

“Oi.” You glanced over your shoulder, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of his cocky grin. “And see if you can get one more ticket for that concert. You don’t have plans Friday, do you?”

Oh hell. If your smile got any bigger, your cheeks would probably crack. “I’m free,” you managed. “And I’d love to go to the concert with you guys.”

Roy nodded, looking nothing short of pleased. “Right. I should let you go back to your work, then.” His expression became teasing again. “I’m sure you’ll be back down here in an hour or so. I’ll have some snacks waiting for you.”

A giggle tumbled out of your mouth as you shook your head at Roy. “I’m sure you will.” With a little wave, you strolled away, already coming up with another excuse to come back downstairs to visit Roy Kent.

[writeforfandoms]

Born for Greatness 8

Find the series masterlist

Well here we are! This is the last official chapter of the story. I do have one short bonus chapter written that is Price and Logan, and I’m open to doing more! I may try to revisit this pack again. If you have ideas/requests, feel free to let me know!

In which we finally get answers. All of us. 

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, pack cuddles, the boys are too cute, brief mention of drugs (from last chapter), I finally get to make the joke

John Price x f!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Four days after the forced shift incident, you had been gently but firmly shooed out of the investigation. Which was fine by you - you were not an investigator. You’d handed everything over to John and wiped your hands clean of the mess. 

But it had put some things into perspective for you. 

“Finally made up your mind?” Logan dropped down next to you, leaning back to join you laying on the grass.

“Mmhm.” You smiled up at the sky, oddly peaceful despite the butterflies in your tummy. 

“And?” Logan nudged you, clearly not patient enough to wait you out this time. 

You breathed in, slow and deep. You hadn’t quite told John your plans yet, but he’d been busy trying to figure out who’d sent the letter. So. You’d update him as soon as he came up for air. 

“I’ve got a moving company lined up to take care of my apartment,” you told him, still looking up at the clouds. “I was gonna ask you to supervise. You’ll know what’s important and what can get shoved in storage.”

“Storage.” Logan snorted. “Send it to my place, I’ve got room.” 

“Have I told you lately that you’re the best?” 

“Don’t push it, kid.” 

You laughed, quiet but sincere. “I figured you’ll have to send me a few more things, but we can figure that out when you’re at the apartment. I still have no idea what all is damaged.”

“Not botherin’ you?” Logan glanced at you, one eyebrow raised.

“It’s just stuff.” You shrugged. “I keep the irreplaceable things with me.”

“Smart kid.” Logan chuckled. “And the pack?” 

You hesitated for a moment. You hadn’t said the words out loud yet, despite knowing what you wanted. You swallowed and tipped your head to look at him. “I’m staying here.” 

Logan chuckled. “Atta girl.” 

“Oh shut up.” But you were grinning, relaxing under his clear approval. 

“Figured that out, have you?”

“Eh.” You wiggled one hand back and forth in a so-so motion. “I know I want to stay. They want me to stay. We haven’t actually discussed the details of it, but… I trust they’ll figure it out.” 

Logan smiled. “Well. That’s a change from your normal.” 

“It is.” You swallowed, glancing over at him. “Figured I’d actually listen to you for once.”

He snorted. “Had to happen eventually.”

The two of you lapsed into silence for a few minutes, both enjoying the gentle warmth of the sunshine. 

���This doesn’t mean I won’t see you anymore, or anything,” you suddenly pointed out. Because that was something you’d thought about before. 

“Course not,” Logan agreed. “Else I’d come kidnap you.”

You snorted. He would, too, if he felt he had to. “Figured when they’re gone doing their thing, I can fly out and stay with you, at least some of the time.” 

“That would be good.” He spoke slowly, but he couldn’t hide the emotion in his voice. 

“What?” You rolled onto your side, alarmed, looking him over quickly.

But Logan smiled and shook his head. “Not a bad thing,” he muttered, waving you off. “Just. You finally stopped running.” 

You warmed and ducked your head, rolling back onto your back. “Yeah. Guess I did.” You side-eyed him. “But if you throw me into the pond again, I’ll get Ghost to throw you in for me.” 

“Fair,” Logan allowed. The two of you lapsed into quiet again, comfortable and easy. 

At least until Logan stretched. “When is the moving company set to start?”

“They estimated in three days, but I told them I’d get back to them for sure after I talked to you.” 

He grunted. “That’s fine. Better go book a ticket.” 

“You’re sure you don’t mind doing this for me?”

“Kid, it’s going through your crap. How hard can it be?” Logan smirked, getting to his feet and holding a hand down to you. “I’ll just annoy the crap outta you until you give me all the answers.”

You laughed, taking his hand and letting him haul you up. “You’re an ass.”

“I’d say you volunteered, but you didn’t.” He smirked at you, easy and amused. 

You both turned when you heard a woof, and Soap attempted to tackle you. Attempted, because you stepped out of the way. His paws hit the ground and he huffed at you.

“Nuh uh,” you scolded gently. “No tackling.” 

“You’ll have your hands full with that one,” Logan muttered, grinning like the little shit he clearly was. “Payback.” 

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, and only realized a moment too late what he’d done. Soap jumped up on his hind legs, front paws balanced against your stomach, tail wagging about a mile a minute. “Uh. You didn’t hear anything, Soap. I have to talk to John first.”

He barked and ran off a few steps before running back to circle you and run away again. 

“I think I’m being herded,” you told Logan, voice dry.

“You better go before he starts nipping,” Logan agreed, just as dry. “I’ll find you later.”

You nodded and hesitated a moment before you darted in to hug him, tight. Just for a moment. Then you backed off and walked away. 

Soap boofed at you, tail still wagging, high-stepping through the grass.

“Oh hush. You menace.” 

Soap just wagged his tail before running ahead of you. You opened the door into the building for him, and he trotted straight to John’s office and sat. 

“Alright, thanks. Now shoo.”

His ears lowered and he hunched a little, looking up at you with big sad eyes.

“No, I don’t care. Do not give me those eyes. This is a private conversation and you’re not invited.” 

Soap huffed but slunk off down the corridor. Shaking your head, you knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” John called. 

He was seated behind his desk, paperwork spread in front of him, though he was looking at you. His lips twitched in a soft little smile. 

“You busy?” You closed the door gently behind you.

“Not for you.” He pushed back from his desk, though he let you decide where you wanted to be. You settled on the couch, because at the very least you wanted to be comfortable for this discussion. 

“So. Never got to answer your question the other day.”

John joined you on the couch, though he did leave a bit of space between you. Likely for your comfort, because you saw him start to reach for you and pull back. “We got interrupted.”

“We did.” You took a deep breath, reaching over to take his hand. He watched you but he didn’t push, giving you time. “I was going to tell you yes. I want to stay.” 

The smile that inspired was warm and big and possibly one of your new favorite things. “Yeah?”

“Yes, John.” You couldn’t help but laugh a little, squeezing his hand. 

“I’ve got a follow up question, then.” He shifted closer to you, eyes bright. 

“Okay.” You smiled, watching him. 

“Would you allow me to court you?” He took your free hand as well, dipping his head a little to hold your gaze. “Properly.” 

You warmed under his gaze but nodded. “I’d like that very much,” you agreed, soft and almost shy. 

There was a whoop from outside the door, almost immediately muffled, followed by a thump. Then another thump. 

John sighed, his head dropping forward, even as your shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Fuckin’ muppets.” 

“They’re yours,” you pointed out, extremely unhelpfully. 

“They will be yours too, soon.” John released your hands and stood, marching over to the door and yanking it open. “Sergeants!” 

Leaving Soap to sputter through an explanation, Gaz darted around him and straight to you, nearly bowling you over in his excitement. 

“You’re a menace,” you muttered, unable to keep the affection from your tone. 

“Only a bit.” Gaz deliberately met your gaze, beaming, held it for a count of three, and then dropped his gaze. This was much more intentional than the last time he’d done it, a very clear showing that you were higher ranked in the pack than he was. And, as if that wasn’t enough, he squirmed in until he could tuck his head under your chin. 

You melted. Just a little. Sure, this was a grown-ass man who was taller than you, but he was just. Too damn cute. 

“Not at all excited, huh?” you couldn’t help but tease, turning your head to rest your cheek on top of his head. 

“Just a bit,” he muttered back, arms tight around your waist. “I’m just… You’re good for him. For us. I’m happy you’re staying.” 

You smiled, rubbing your cheek on top of his head, even though it didn’t quite work the same way as it would from a shifter. He still shivered and melted into you, totally relaxed. 

“You’re still in trouble,” John grumbled, even as his weight dropped down next to you. “Even if you are being cute.” 

“Yes sir,” Gaz muttered, grin clear in his voice. 

“Sure you wanna deal with these muppets?” John asked, curling one arm around your shoulders. 

“I think they’ll give me less of a hard time than they do you.” You couldn’t help but slant an amused smirk at him. 

“Probably right.” 

“We’ll behave,” Soap added, as he popped up on your free side and very nearly gave you a heart attack with how stealthy he’d been.

“Bells,” you grumbled, tightening your grip on Gaz. “I’m putting bells on all of you.” 

“Sounds distracting.” Ghost lounged in the doorway, smirking. 

“Hopefully.” You raised an eyebrow at him, waiting to see if he’d come closer. 

He didn’t. “Johnny, move your arse.”

Soap grumbled but got up again, tapping Gaz on the shoulder. Gaz sighed against your shoulder, squeezed you one more time, and then released you. Ghost shut the door after them.

“Now,” John murmured, a teasing little smile on his lips, “where were we…?” 

“Something about courting,” you teased right back, though you did shift to face him on the couch. 

“Mm, yes.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you slowly but inexorably closer. “And you said yes.”

“Did I?” You feigned surprise. “Hmm. Sounds reasonable.” 

John chuckled. “Tease,” he murmured, the word soaked in soft affection. 

This time, he didn’t give you a chance to respond. He just kissed you, slow and sweet and exploratory. He pulled back, but you didn’t give him a lot of space, dipping your head to kiss the corner of his lips. His jaw. The underside of his chin. His soft groan rumbled through the air between his chest and yours, and you hummed a satisfied note. 

“You are gonna be a handful,” he murmured, hands tightening around you. 

“Only if I’m doing this right.” You smiled against his skin, pressing one last kiss to his throat. 

“What do you need from me? To help you settle in more permanently.” One big hand left your waist, rubbing up your back to settle at the nape of your neck. 

You shrugged. “Logan is going to pack up my apartment, so he’ll send me a few more things. Other than that… I don’t really need much.” 

“Think about it,” he encouraged. “And tell me what you think.”

“Alright.” You didn’t think you’d come up with much, but he was the alpha. It was his job to make sure everyone had what they needed. 

“When is Logan leaving?”

“Not sure. He had to go get tickets, said he’d update me when he had them.”

John grunted softly, leaning back and pulling you with him until you were cuddled against his chest, your cheek against his shoulder. You could definitely get used to this. 

“There’s one more thing I need to do,” you murmured into the gentle, quiet space between you two. “It won’t be the only time, but it’s tradition.”

“What’s that?” John asked softly, his nose nudging your temple. 

“Cook dinner for you. I always cook dinner for packs, usually right at the end of the job.” 

“You haven’t officially finished yet?” But John didn’t sound upset, just mildly surprised.

“The letter incident pushed back the completion of the job.”

“Hm.” John nudged your temple again. “You’ll let me know what you need?”

“Yes but only because that was a question.” 

John snorted, squeezing the back of your neck gently. “I should get back to work.”

“Five more minutes?” 

He acquiesced with a little sigh, holding you close. 

It took you until the next day to get everything taken care of. The last of the paperwork had been signed. Your final check had been deposited in your account. 

You were truly free and clear of any work. 

So, naturally, you were making more food than you needed. But with five shifters to feed, you figured that would do just about right. 

“Need any help?” 

You didn’t jump only because you’d heard Logan coming. He didn’t bother to sneak much of anywhere. 

“No, I got it.” You looked at him and then did a double take. “I thought your flight wasn’t leaving until the morning?” 

“Got a call from an old friend,” he murmured, stepping closer and setting his duffel bag down momentarily. “Gonna go visit them for the night before I head back.”

“Oh.” You couldn’t help the way your chest clenched at that. You knew you’d see him again, probably sooner than later, but still. You’d thought you’d have a little more time.

“Sorry, kid.” He stopped in front of you. “Especially sorry to miss out on this.” 

That got you to snort. “Next time.”

“Next time,” he agreed softly. He pulled you into a hug, tight and warm and familiar. You relaxed into him with a little hum, holding him tight. 

When he pulled back, you let him go. “Safe trip and all that.”

“Thanks,” he drawled, stepping back and picking up his duffel bag again. “Don’t burn anything.”

“Ass,” you grumbled as you turned back to the stove. “Say hi to Charles for me.”

“I’m not visiting him,” Logan called back, only a little annoyed.

You smirked. “Say hi to Erik for me.”

“Definitely not that asshole,” Logan shouted back from the hall. And then he was gone, leaving you to cackle to yourself. Sometimes it was just too easy to rile him up. 

You didn’t bother to plate things up in any fancy way, just laying out the selection for the pack and then stepping out of the way so you’d have a good view when they came in.

Which you did. And you took in the awed expressions with absolute glee. 

“Christ, love.” John walked over to you first, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Trying to spoil us?”

“Maybe a little.” You shrugged, unrepentant. “Sit.” 

You let them settle first, though you kept half your attention on Ghost, figuring he’d want some privacy. 

But he surprised you, meeting your eyes for a split second before he nodded to the chair left open on John’s left. Across from him. You raised one eyebrow but moved to the chair and sat, curious. 

“Don’t need to be so cautious,” Ghost grumbled, passing a dish to John. 

“You like your privacy.” You shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal, not to you. 

He huffed something like a laugh, folding the bottom of his mask up to just above his nose. Scars gone silvery with age marked his skin in the brief glimpse you allowed yourself before you returned your gaze to his forehead. 

“You’re pack now,” was all he said before he took a bite of food. You had the pleasure of watching his eyes widen, just a little. 

Your satisfied smile didn’t go unnoticed, but John only chuckled at you and put more food on your plate. You weren’t surprised - that was very much courting behavior for a shifter. 

“Forgot to mention, love.” John glanced at you. “Figured out who sent that letter.”

“Yeah?” You tipped your head, curious. 

“Keyes.”

“That’s disappointing but not surprising. I’m sure he’s got the contacts to get that kind of drug.” You shrugged. “I trust he’s being handled?”

“Thoroughly.” John’s smirk was small but satisfied.

“Oi.” Gaz huffed at the both of you. “Stop talking shop and eat.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Oh yeah. Life was definitely not going to be boring with this pack. 

To say that dinner was a success was putting it mildly. Most of the food was demolished. Soap and Gaz both ate too much and groaned their way to the couch to collapse. 

“Your emotional support dog abandoned you,” you drawled to Ghost.

“What?” He blinked, startled.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen those videos.” You perked up, a grin slowly stretching your lips. 

“What videos?” He narrowed his eyes at you. 

Holding back your evil cackles, you turned on the TV and quickly navigated to your favorite zoo. “In zoos, cheetahs are like balls of anxiety, right? So this one zoo started pairing a cheetah with an emotional support dog, letting the dog be the more dominant partner. Which allowed them to do things like take their cheetahs on walks and show off their speed and stuff, because if the dog is relaxed, the cheetah is relaxed.” You pointed at the screen where a dog and a cheetah were walking calmly together. “It’s you and Soap.” 

For a moment there was silence before Gaz burst out laughing. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost sighed, dropping his head. “I’ll remember this.” 

“Oh I know.” Far too smug, you grinned and settled on the couch, totally unsurprised when Soap immediately used your thigh as a pillow. 

“Where is this?” he asked, grinning up at you.

“The San Diego Zoo was the first to do it, but I believe the practice has been adopted by several zoos now.” You paused for dramatic effect. “And one task force.” 

Gaz rolled onto his stomach to muffle his giggling into the couch, while Soap just covered his face with one hand, laughing so hard he was actually nearly silent. 

“Stop pokin’ fun at him.” John dropped down next to you, arm settling across your shoulders. 

“He’ll get his revenge eventually.” You leaned a little into him, fingers carding idly through Soap’s hair. 

“When did you get so snarky?” Ghost grumbled even as he settled in his normal seat. 

“When this stopped being a job.” You grinned, unrepentant, even as you switched away from the zoo video and over to some sci-fi movie you’d been meaning to rewatch. “Now I wanna see how confused you all get with this.” 

“Mean.” But John was smiling as he said it, tugging you closer until you were cuddled in against his side, Soap still using your thigh as a pillow. 

You knew things wouldn’t always be this easy, this lighthearted. But for once you were prepared to work for it. For them. To keep them. The way they were clearly willing to work to keep you. And that was enough.

[mulletpermsicantlookaway]

The Cupbearer, Part 2

This is my continuation from where @joshslater left off. The original is reblogged here as well.

Day 4, 9:28

As Tyler looked on, I put the sealed cup in my backpack. I was about to leave, but then I turned and really looked at him, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Honestly, Tyler, is there anything left of you in there? I mean, do you still care about me at all, or do you just care about me getting Steve with this…this thing?”

For a second, his cocky smirk vanished. He almost looked thoughtful. Maybe he was.

“Bro, it’s not as if I didn’t try to warn you. Why do you think I was avoiding you? You shouldn’t have pushed me so hard. I got angry and lost it, and believe me, bro, I can get super aggressive now, super fast. You weren’t on the list yet. You were safe. Probably.”

“But you were my best friend! I couldn’t just desert you, not after all we’d been for each other, not without finding out why!”

“Look, bro, now you know why, mostly. Even if I’d wanted, it’s not as if I could have just hung out with you like before. And after I – changed – you and I didn’t have anything in common anymore. Seriously, dude, you have no idea how fucking annoying you nerds are! Every time I see one of you – even, even you – I just want to stuff you in a locker. Do I remember being your friend? Is that what you want to know?  I do. I’m sorry. For all the fat lot of good it does us now. But cheer up! You and I’ll be friends again now, bro. Real soon.”

Damn. I felt sorry for him, but that hateful, cocky smirk was back, and I wanted to slap that stupid smile off his face. Maybe he was a victim, but he didn’t look like one. He and I will be friends again soon? I couldn’t help it; I started crying again as I realized what was going to happen to me.

“I hate you so fucking much, Tyler. And I’m going to end up just like you, aren’t I? A big brute with a cocky smile, ready to terrorize any nerd that comes along. ‘You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.’ Damn! Fuck! I should just end this now and jump off a bridge or run out in front of a bus or something. Then this nightmare would finally be fucking over!

Tyler suddenly grabbed me by my shoulders. Hard. His eyes bored into mine. He let go his right hand long enough to smack my face before grabbing me even tighter. Shit, he was strong now! There was no way I could move. My face stung.

“Dude, seriously, none of that! DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! Stop it now! Trust me. Don’t try. It won’t work.”

He didn’t look so cocky now, but I wasn’t sure if he was worried about me or what. He still gripped me so hard I couldn’t move. Between sobs, I said: “How do you know it won’t work?”

The look in his eyes intensified. Was it anger? Pain? Fear? Was he afraid of what I might do, or was something else going on?  I said, “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. But can you at least tell me what it’s gonna be like? Can you tell me if I’ve got anything to fucking live for?”

“Bro, I wish I could. I do. But I can’t explain it the way you want. You’ll have to find out for yourself. I’m sorry. I truly am. Believe me, bro, I just don’t remember much about what happened.”

“But are you happy now, Tyler?” I said, still sobbing. “I mean, you look great and all that, as big dumb brutes go. You’re as strong as an ox, and you seem happy enough, going out with Brittney and hanging out with the guys and all that. Look, I just need to know that I’ll be okay. I just need to know that there’s some hope that I won’t be miserable for the rest of my life.”

Tyler relaxed his grip a tiny bit.

“Look, bro, if that’s what you really want to know – yes, you’ll be okay. You’ll be better than okay. You will. You’ll probably be happier than you’ve ever been. I am. But you’re not there yet. And the sooner you find Steve and do what you need to, the sooner you’ll be done. Because you’re right about one thing – resistance is futile.”

“Nerding out on me, eh, jock boy? Yeah, resistance is futile, all right. I know.”

I sighed and stopped sobbing. Tyler released his grip and pushed me away. I think he was trying to be gentle about it, but I still staggered a bit. The jock boy didn’t know his own strength yet. I rubbed my sore cheek gingerly. With that unreadable look still on his face, he said quietly:

“I’ll tell you another secret. Girls will never admit it, but they really like – how did you put it – big dumb brutes? And some boys do, too. Anyway, bro, it’s high time for both of us to be out of here before someone comes looking. Now go! Just don’t do anything stupid. You know what I mean – don’t think about doing any of those things you were talking about. Text me if you have to. Now fucking get out of here or I really will have to beat you up, while I still can, anyway.

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Tyler smirked at me. The unreadable look was gone, as if it had never been, and the cocky asshole was back. “Bro, you’re already starting to turn. Maybe you haven’t noticed. Now get lost! See you soon.”

Day 4, 10:42

That talk with Tyler gave me a lot to think about, and I’m not sure if I feel better or worse. It’s nice to have some hope that I’ll be happy again. And I think I got a glimpse of the old Tyler inside the hulking, arrogant jock that he’s become. Part of him seems to care about me still. But I was hoping to have this damn thing off today. With it vibrating all the time, all I can think of is getting off, which is the one thing I can’t do.  I’m hot, then I’m cold, but I’m sweaty even when I’m cold. I’m so horny I can’t even think. I might as well have skipped all my classes, because I don’t remember anything. I really want to hit someone right now. Fuck Tyler! And what did he mean about me starting to turn?

Day 4, 11:28

At first, I was hoping it was my deranged imagination, but I’m almost certain the cup is starting to feel tighter now. A lot tighter. I wish I could believe it’s because it’s shrinking, but I know better. I saw what it did to Tyler, up close and personal. I have got to find that fucking nerd Steve today, or I won’t be able to get it on him until Monday, and I’ll be stuck on edge all weekend. These chinos aren’t going to work much longer. They’re starting to get too tight. And even worse, they’re a little highwater. Fuck! Am I getting taller?

Day 4, 14:17

Suddenly I can’t stop eating. I gorged myself at lunch. Out of nowhere I had a huge appetite. I ate two lunches and I’m still hungry. Steve is nowhere to be found. He either wasn’t in school today or was sent home early. I’ll have to make it through the weekend with vibrating junk! Fuck! I need this off now before I change any more.

Day 4, 16:57

I’d had enough. After school, I didn’t go home. I went to where there’s a nice, high overpass over a busy road. I was going to jump and be done with it. I touched the railing, thinking I would just fling myself over, but as soon as my hands touched the railing, that thing – I don’t know whether it froze me or shocked me or what. When I came to, I was sitting on the curb on the other side of the overpass with some passer-by asking me if I was okay. No, I was not okay! I have no idea how long I was out. But I told her I was fine. I got up and tried to go home, but the cup started freezing me and buzzing like mad as soon as I got anywhere near that overpass. I had to go around and go home another way. It made me wonder: did Tyler try something like this? He did try to warn me, and he was so intense about it, too. At this point, I was so keyed up that I didn’t walk; I actually ran home. Between the cup and the too-tight chinos, I’m sure I looked as uncomfortable as I felt, but I needed to burn off some of my frustration. The weird thing is that the cup seemed to vibrate a lot less when I was running. I could almost think.

Day 4, 20:23

I ate everything in sight at dinner. If this continues, I might have to get a job after school just to pay for the extra food. I shut myself in my room afterward, got on the bed, and stared at the ceiling, bored out of my mind. I just couldn’t get into my comic books or video games with the constant vibration going on. I had to find another way to distract myself. I started doing sit-ups and push-ups and squats and any other exercise I could think of. It was odd, but the more active I was, the vibration in the cup either seemed to stop or was just easier to ignore. Once I’d finally worn myself out, I texted Tyler and asked him if he had a pair of sweatpants I could borrow. He didn’t get back to me right away. There was a football game, naturally. But he said he’d stop by in the morning and bring me something I could wear.

Day 5

It seems stupid to do a bunch of different reports for the same day, so I’ll just do one. After breakfast, Tyler the jock actually dropped by as promised! He probably needed to go watch a football game afterwards to purge himself of any nerdiness he might have picked up at our house, but he came. I really hadn’t expected him to show. And he brought me not one but two pairs of his old sweatpants, a pair of the kind of shorts that jocks tend to wear, and a pair of shoes. It’s good he thought of shoes, because mine were getting tight enough to be uncomfortable. This pair doesn’t fit him anymore, but they’re only a little bit big on me. For now. They smell like jock, of course, but I’ll have to live with that. I don’t see myself wearing the shorts. Maybe they’d be comfortable and practical, but they’re ugly, and I’m not a jock yet. I think the sweatpants will do a better job of covering up the stink from the cup. Unfortunately, I’ll probably have to wear sweatpants to school on Monday. Anyway, it was nice of Tyler to bring me the stuff, and he wasn’t being obnoxious. He seemed kind of chill, actually. Maybe I understand him a little better now. He didn’t stay long, but he probably can’t be seen hanging around me until I’m a jock, too. In any case, you rarely see a jock separate from the herd.

It was my mother’s first glimpse of the new, improved Tyler. She was obviously surprised, but she covered it well enough. After he left, she said something like, “Tyler’s been working out a lot lately, hasn’t he? He looks like a completely different person. I hardly recognized him.”

That gave me my opening. I finally asked her the question that had been on my mind since Day 2. I said something like: “So, if I started to get into working out and football stuff like Tyler, and I started getting big and built like him, and I started hanging out with his jock friends, would that freak you out?”

She looked at me thoughtfully for a bit. Then she said something like, “He’s your best friend. I can tell it’s been really hard on you that his interests have changed. But honey, I’m fine with whatever you want to do - as long as it’s what you want and it makes you happy.”  So there I have it. I guess I can put my biggest worry to rest. She’ll be okay with a jock son.

Anyway, after that it was so fucking boring in my room that I jogged as best I could to a park that has those pull-up bars and push-up bars and other stuff for doing a circuit workout or whatever they call it. Like yesterday, it seemed that the vibrating from the cup stopped the more I stayed active. And boy, did I stay active. I did every exercise as best I could until every muscle was so sore I could hardly move. Even I knew that wasn’t the right way to work out, but I needed the relief from the cup. I also hoped to make myself so exhausted that I could sleep better. It worked. My vibrating junk only woke me up a few times during the night. But now the cup is a lot tighter. A lot. I’m not sure if that makes the vibration better or worse, but the worst part is still the constant horniness without being able get off.

Speaking of getting off, I’d better be getting this thing off on Monday!

Day 6

Judging from the little I know about working out, I should have been really sore today. I wasn’t. My guess is the cup does something to speed development and recovery, because I am already seeing some muscle. Even I know that I shouldn’t be able to see a visible change in a day! This thing is really messing with me. I already knew I was starting to smell more like locker room, but now I’m getting hairier. I don’t know what’s going on under the cup, of course, but my legs are hairier, my pits are hairier, and my abs and forearms are hairier. My nipples are super sensitive, and they’re poking up under my T-shirts. Holy shit! I’m getting little hairs all around them, too, and in the middle of my chest! I’m turning into a fucking neanderthal.

As if all this weren’t enough, my throat started to feel scratchy, as if I were coming down with a cold, and I sounded hoarse. I told Mom I wasn’t feeling well. In any case, there was no way I was going to go to church wearing sweatpants with the smell of the cup rolling off me. In the afternoon, I felt a bit better, although my voice was still really rough and hoarse. I went to the park again. I’ve never seen anyone I know there; it’s not very close to my house or the school. I wore Tyler’s old shoes, which fit me perfectly today. By the basketball hoops, there are usually a few random guys playing a pick-up game. Now, I didn’t know much more about basketball than what a basketball looks like, but I played for a while. It could have been worse. I didn’t make a complete fool of myself, and the smell coming off me isn’t nearly as noticeable outside. I was wearing Tyler’s shorts, so I looked as right for the part as I could manage. When I got home, my voice was so hoarse that I could hardly whisper.

As I’d hoped, all the activity calmed down the vibrations from the cup. Speaking of which, I keep thinking the thing can’t possibly get any tighter, but it is.  And I thought I was horny before; now it’s so bad that I can hardly see straight.

When I was getting ready for bed, something about my face looked different in the mirror. I looked scruffy. I think maybe that shaving once a week isn’t going to cut it anymore. My eyebrows were looking a little thick, too. Even worse, it looks as if I’ve got the start of a unibrow. It might be my imagination, but my features seem different, I don’t know, bigger or heavier or something. A little lunkheaded. It’d better be my imagination, because I do not want to start looking like one of them. I’ve got to get rid of this thing!

Day 7

This is scary. I’m getting ready for school, and now even Tyler’s old sweatpants are starting to get a bit form fitting, if you know what I mean. And they’re a little high water, too. My T-shirt looks really tight, and I know it didn’t shrink. It’s uncomfortable, but I hardly notice it compared to the tightness of the you-know-what. It feels tight enough to pop itself off now. Maybe it will? I know I’m still growing, but the cup has got to be speeding things up. Anyway, the first order of business today is finding that nerd Steve and giving him his cup. I’m sorry for Steve, even if he is a fucking dweeb, but I have got to be done with this.

Once I got to school, the rest of the morning passed in a blur. Right before lunch, Tyler texted me that he needed to see me, so we agreed to meet as soon as we could in the most out-of-the-way men’s room in the school. When I went in, there was only one other guy there, some random nerd I didn’t know. Tyler came in a moment later, fixed the nerd with his best jock glare and said “Out, nerd. Now!”. The guy scuttled out with a look of terror on his face, but I had sympathy only for myself. Turning to me with his trademark cocky smirk, Tyler said:

“Congrats, bro! You did it! You’re second on the list now. So go down to the locker rooms tomorrow sometime between, say, 10 and 11 tomorrow and everything should be ready.”

“Dude, am I, like, missing something?” Something about me sounded way off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “What’d I do?”

“Well, I didn’t see it myself, but you know Derek? Blond buzz cut, linebacker and built like it? Anyway, Derek told me you got Steve O’Connor this morning between first and second period. You walked right up to Steve and popped it on him while Steve was still trying to figure out what you wanted. He just stood there, pale as a ghost, and said “What’d you just do to me?” You walked away, but then turned around and said, “Just a little present for you, nerd. Have fun trying to walk!”. And then Steve, he’s still standing there after you left, spluttering, “I don’t understand! What’s this smell?” and looking as though he’s going to throw up. According to Derek, he was still standing there in the hallway looking lost when the next bell rang.

Holy shit! I’m sure the look on my face must have been fascinating, but I couldn’t see it. The cup started vibrating like a mad thing. I should have been sick to my stomach. I should have fainted. But really, I was just relieved. Incredibly relieved. And more than a bit freaked out that I didn’t remember any of it. I said:

“Bro, seriously, I do not remember any of that shit. I don’t remember anything from this morning.” Something was still off; I sounded strange. “Wait, dude, is my voice, like, lower?”

“Yeah, actually. You sound different. But, bro, I told you were turning already. I can see it, and probably other people can now, too. You’re taller, and you’re bigger, too. I know you haven’t started to buff out a lot yet. That doesn’t really happen until the cup comes off, and it doesn’t happen right away, but you’re already starting. And that’s fast work, bro; some guys don’t start showing for weeks. You’re going to be fucking awesome!”

And then he grabbed me in a quick, hard, bro hug and patted me on the back with his meaty paw. I was stunned. My bro Tyler thought I was going to be awesome! I was so pleased, so stupidly pleased at attention from Tyler that I forgot for a minute that I had spent all morning at school and remembered none of it.  That should have frightened the living shit out of me. And let’s not forget that Ty-boy was the whole reason that I was in this mess to begin with. Tyler said:

“So, dude, you really don’t remember anything from this morning?”

“No, bro. Not a thing since I got to school. Why?”

Tyler grinned at me for a moment. His smirk was smirkier than ever – if that’s a word.

“Well, bro, before you caught up with Steve, you also apparently stuffed some random freshman geek into his locker. Derek had been keeping an eye on you, you know, making sure you got to Steve. I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but that was too good to pass up. Anyway, I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, after you’re – well, after. Trust me, you’re gonna feel great!” 

He turned to leave, but I said, “Dude, seriously, hold on a sec. I mean, stuffing some kid I don’t know into his locker, I’m not even gonna go there; I so can’t deal with that now, but is it normal for me to just – black out and forget an entire morning at school? I mean, that’s really freaking my shit.”

“Well, I don’t know how often it’s happened, but you’re not the only one it’s happened to. But you’ll be fine once the cup’s off. Later, bro!”

Yeah, I’ll be fine, Tyler. Right. The next time I terrorize some innocent kid, at least I’ll be able to remember it. Great.

Tyler swaggered out of the men’s room and vanished down the hallway. I started to follow and then stopped short: tomorrow? He said tomorrow? Really? I had to wait another day! Fuck! There’d be nothing left of me by tomorrow. Whatever happened in the locker room to complete the process, I was already starting to look and act like one of them. And if I understood Tyler, the changes started to accelerate once the cup came off. Tears sprang into my eyes, and I started to sob. I suddenly felt faint, so I went to the sink. I caught my reflection in the mirror. What I saw was bizarre, and completely outside my experience: a dumb jock was bawling his eyes out. I wanted to throw up, but nothing came, so I stood there and splashed some water on my face.

It didn’t matter at this point, I realized, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I was way too far gone already. Quick as lightning, I punched the hateful reflection with my fist. The glass shattered and fell splintering to the floor. My knuckles were a little red, but I hadn’t broken the skin. I walked out the door and never looked back.

Day 8, 6:25

Today’s the day. I’m resigned to my fate. My old life’s ending and my new one is starting. No, my old life ended a week ago. Come to think of it, my old life really ended when the bastards got Tyler. They took my best friend, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. The sooner this is over, the better. See you on the other side.

Day 68

Hey, bros, I know it’s been a LOOONG time, and you want to know the rest of the story. Sorry you had to wait, but I have had way better things to do than dweeb-ass shit like keeping a journal. A fucking captain’s log? Seriously! I can’t believe that I used to be that guy. But – I know he would have wanted to finish the story, and I owe my old self that much, I guess. So, bros, with that said, here is the rest of the story.

I know you all want to know WHAT HAPPENED, you know, down in the locker room. The problem is, just like my bro Tyler, I can’t really remember much of The Day Of, if you know what I mean. I know I went down to the lockers as soon after 10:00 as I could make it, because nothing was more important to me than getting that fucking thing off my junk. As for becoming a jock, by that point I was already more jock than nerd anyway. I wasn’t trying to fight it anymore.

Anyway, I got there, and they were ready for me this time. The old football coach was there (more on him later), and that Derek dude with the blond buzz cut was there, and maybe Tyler and a few other guys that I recognized. Maybe. After that, it’s pretty much another black hole, like the day before when I cupped Steve-o. All I remember is there were lights, and maybe some videos they had me watch, and the old football coach’s voice droning away. I think some of the other coaches were there, but his was the voice I remember. And then nothing. The next thing I remember, I was coming back after practice into the locker room and stripping for the showers. Yeah, after. I don’t remember my first football practice, but Tyler told me I really was there. I also don’t remember learning how to play football.

It wasn’t until I was soaping myself up in the shower that I realized I was free. About fucking time! I honestly don’t know when they took that thing off, but when I got the soap down there, I finally realized it was gone, and I could touch my stuff for the first time in a week. Of course, it wasn’t the same feeling. No way. I had heard that most of the guys who were jocked like me would stand there in a daze once they were free of it, touching themselves and muttering, not able to believe what they were feeling. But I already knew what to expect. I’m not going to bother describing mine in detail. I already described Tyler’s monster fuck stick and balls, so you know the drill. But you remember that Tyler had been – um – distinctly below average beforehand? I wanted to point out that that was not the case for me. You know what I mean. You can figure it out. I swear, it felt like the damn thing needed nearly a whole bar of soap just for itself, and the balls felt like lead weights in my sack. It took some getting used to, but I got used to it, and anything was better than the cup, believe me. It’s been easier since. Now that I’m stronger and my body’s bigger, everything’s more in proportion, and I don’t feel like a freak. But sorry, Becky, the manspreading will continue. It’s not as if I have a fucking choice. Between the size of my thighs and my junk, just trying to cross my legs makes my balls wince.

At least I could finally wash down there, and the funky reek was gone. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m a big guy, and I can get pretty rank by the end of the fourth quarter. Fuck, I can get pretty rank by half time. And my gym shoes and football cleats and jockstraps do make my bedroom smell a bit like a locker room. But I don’t stink up any room just by walking into it anymore, not unless I haven’t had a shower.

Speaking of showers, I’ll get back to the story. I finished my shower and lumbered my way back to my locker in that jock swagger that has become an old habit by now. I know it makes me look dumb, but that’s really the only way I can walk comfortably. Anyway, when I opened my locker (and I’m not sure how I even knew it was my locker), I found some clean clothes that I had never seen before. I sighed. Under Armour head to toe seemed to be the extent of my fashion options. So I pulled on a pair of compression shorts and then put regular shorts on over those. Then I went to look at myself in the mirror.

I was bigger than the last view I remembered from the school men’s room (you know, the men’s room where I broke the mirror). I wasn’t much bigger, but shit, it was only a day later. It felt like a year! My build was still more gangly than buff at that point, but I could easily see where the muscles were developing. As for my face, well, it wasn’t quite neanderthal, but you wouldn’t mistake me for the president of the chess club. (The unibrow didn’t help, dudes.) I could still see remnants of my old face in places, though, covered over with the bushier eyebrows, five o’clock shadow, and stronger features. I had nearly no hair. I didn’t remember getting a haircut, but someone had given my dark hair a buzz cut like Derek’s, only even shorter; on the sides and back it was almost completely shaved off. I had never had my hair that short, and I felt bald and drafty. It was a striking look, but more than a little intimidating. If I were a freshman geek trying to get my books out of my locker, I would probably give me a wide berth. I wasn’t bad looking actually, but, looking at this face, no one would ever believe that I’d been a nerd. Fuck, I couldn’t believe it myself, and I knew better. The guy looking out at me from the mirror was hot shit, and he knew it. Maybe that was the whole idea. I smiled. And there it was – my own version of Tyler’s smirk.

Yeah, I know. I said I’d end up being a big brute with a cocky smile. Well, at this point I wasn’t all that big yet, but there was the smile. My reflection looked happy. Tyler was right; I felt amazing, better than I’d ever felt in my life.

I finished getting dressed, which for now meant I put on a T-shirt, socks and shoes. My hair was so short that, when I pulled the T-shirt over my head, the collar stuck to my stubble like Velcro. By this point, almost the entire team had left the locker room, but Tyler came by, rubbed my buzzed head and said, “Looking good, bro! How’s it hanging?”

“Shut up, Ty-boy, you fucker,” I said, with that shit-eating grin on my face. “I think you of all people know how it’s hanging.” I still sounded “off” to myself. I’m not sure if it was because my voice was even lower or if it was just the sound of the bro-speak coming out of my mouth. Maybe it was a combo.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I know. But seriously, bro,”, he said, giving me a hug, “It’s good to have you back. How’re you feeling?”

Have me back, Tyler? I wasn’t the one who left, not that it mattered now. What I said was “It’s different; I’m not going to lie, but I feel pretty fucking amazing. Better than I ever have. You were right. But, dude, it’s been a long day. I didn’t sleep last night. I just want to go home, and, like, sleep for a week. Can we get out of here?”

Tyler AND Derek walked me home. I guess I’d better get used to moving with the herd. Derek’s not such a bad dude, really. I’m pretty sure he’s a native jock and not a former nerd, and he seems about as dumb as a box of rocks, but he’s decent enough to me now that I’m part of the team. He and Tyler came in for a few minutes. That helped blunt my mother’s shock at my new look. Tyler told her I’d gone out for football, that I was learning fast, and that the haircut was part of the initiation. I don’t know if she really liked it, but she rubbed my head affectionately and said I looked cute. Cute? Really? Maybe Mom likes big, dumb brutes, too. After that, I went to my room, collapsed on the bed, and slept for, like, sixteen hours.

I guess it was really more like twelve hours. The next morning, Day 9 in the captain’s nerd log, I woke up a bit early with a morning wood that was nearly as distracting as the cup. I had fallen asleep in my clothes. Clearly, I would have taken care of business had I not been unconscious, especially after waiting for so long, but my monster cock wasn’t going to be put off any longer. I’m not sure if I was jerking it or it was jerking me. I hope I didn’t wake Mom up; I was a bit out of control. And I had to change the sheets.

After I came, I felt different. This is hard to explain: I felt complete. Finished. It was as if that step somehow took all the changes I had been experiencing and clicked them into place, finalized them. I don’t know if that was just an idea in my head or if it was really part of the process, but that was when I truly felt I was a jock. Not only that, but I felt as if I’d always been a jock, and I had trouble remembering that I’d ever not been a jock.

In any case, I finally felt at peace with myself. My mind slowed down. Now, don’t get me wrong: I’m not trying to say I got dumber. I know everyone thinks jocks are dumb, and a lot of us are. I know I can look dumb, and all the bro-speak makes me sound dumb, but I don’t think I’m really any dumber than I was before. What I mean is that I was calmer. Focused. My mind wasn’t racing every which way.

I’m only speaking for myself, of course. Now Tyler? He might be a little dumber than he was before, but he wasn’t always the sharpest tool in the box to begin with, if you know what I mean. I will admit that some of my grades slipped a bit. Part of it is that I had missed a week’s worth of class when the cup wouldn’t let me think. The main reason was my attitude. I can still do the work; I just don’t care as much about grades as I used to. Practice and working out and hanging out with the guys are all higher on my priority list right now than school subjects I didn’t like much to begin with. I’m sticking with AP Biology, though. If I keep studying biology, someday I might be able to figure out how these cups worked. And Mom already had the talk with me about how my grades need to keep up, so I will stop slacking, I promise. I’m not going to bully some nerd into doing my work for me, as tempting as it is.

Okay, so where were we? Oh yeah, nerd log Day 9, star date whatever-the fuck. As great as I was feeling, I did feel a bit sorry for Steve O’Connor. Protocol be damned (and how did I know there was a protocol?), I decided I would talk to him when I got to school and let him know it was nothing personal. Well, tracking him down wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped, and I didn’t want any of the other bros involved. As it turned out, Steve-o was the one who tracked me down.

This is how it went. I needed to drain the dragon. I was wearing a pair of Tyler’s hand-me-down jock shorts, and they didn’t have a fly. Not being used to my new, um, anatomy yet, I was a bit shy of pulling that monster out in front of others, so I aimed for that out-of-the-way men’s room where I’d broken the mirror two days and a lifetime before. The broken glass had been cleaned up, but the mirror hadn’t been replaced yet. I hoped no one would figure out how it had broken. Anyway, I was just finishing at the urinal when the scene started, almost identical to my confrontation with Tyler over a week earlier.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around. Yeah, there Steve was, pale, sweaty, and looking on the edge of a nervous breakdown. I was pretty sure he’d seen my cock, because his mouth was agape, but I wasn’t going to be rushed. I took my time stuffing it back into my shorts.

“Fuck, James, is that even you? I hardly recognized you. What the hell happened? Since when are you a fucking jock? And what in fuck’s name did you do to me?”

I was trying to do the dweeb a favor, and now I saw what Tyler had tried to explain: nerds are so fucking annoying! I gave him my best smile, “Hey, Steve-o. ‘Sup, bro? Enjoying your new accessory?

At that, he actually tried to hit me, not that I blamed him, really. The reek of the cup rolled off him. It wasn’t quite as bad as I remembered, but it was bad enough.

I grabbed his arm then, and I pulled both his wrists behind his back and pinned him up against the wall so that he couldn’t lash out again. Holding him there while he struggled, I said, “Look, bro. We need to talk; but calm down or I’ll have to sit on you. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything personal. I had no choice. You were next on the list, and the only way I was going to get mine off was to give one to you.”

Now he was starting to cry. “What? What’s going on?  You mean someone put one of those on you, too? Who was it?”

“Not that it’s really any of your business, soon-to-be-former-nerd, but, if you really want to know, it was Tyler. Not that my bro Tyler had much choice, either.”

“Wait, Tyler. Yeah, he used to be a nerd, come to think of it. And wasn’t he, like, your best friend? So that’s what happened to him. And you. Now it makes sense! I couldn’t figure out what was going on. But why me?” And then it hit him: “Oh fuck. Fuck! No! You mean?” He started to slump down the wall. I let him go, and he collapsed on the floor and looked up at me with stark terror in his eyes. It was pitiable to watch, but I didn’t flinch and kept my gaze on him. “Tyler was a nerd, and now he’s a jock. You were a nerd, too, and now you’re a jock. And you put one of those things on me. Is that how they do it? You don’t mean I’m gonna…” He swallowed hard. “Look at you. You hardly look like the same person. You don’t sound like the same person. Do you mean?”

“Uh yeah, bro, I mean. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I figured I owed you that much. Say good-bye to the chess team and hello to the football team. Look, I don’t know. I really was trying to do you a favor, but maybe it makes it worse, you knowing what’s going to happen. But I figured you’d want to know. I did.”

“Oh yeah, thank you so much, thanks a ton!” he said bitterly. “Don’t just stick the knife in. Sure, twist it around a few times, too. Fuck!”

“Look, it’s going to be rough for a bit, but you’ll get through it. You will. Now let me give you some advice: don’t try to remove it; it just makes it worse. Don’t try to do anything stupid, like hurting yourself; that really makes it worse. And the more you stay active, the less it bothers you. I think it also speeds up the changes, but believe me, you’ll be better off in the long run. I know what I’m talking about. You won’t believe this, either, but you will be happy – after. Really.”

“But I don’t want to be like you,” he sobbed.

“Shh, dude, shh,” I said, patting him on the shoulder as gently as I could manage. “I know you don’t. Believe me, I know.” I pulled him to his feet and held him upright. “But you have to believe me when I tell you: you will be okay.”

And then I gave him a hug and left.  Later that day, my bro Derek pulled me aside. I don’t know if he knew I had talked to Steve, but he had noticed that I was trying to keep an eye on him. Derek told me, “Hey, bro. Don’t worry about Steve. Jake and I and a couple of the guys are keeping an eye on him. Anyway, we think he’s starting to turn, so he should be okay.” I couldn’t really see it until the next day. By Friday, the changes were more obvious, and by the time Monday morning rolled around, most of the nerd was jocked out of him. Sometime Tuesday, a week after me, he went down to the locker room. As it turned out, I didn’t talk to him again until he had joined us for that afternoon’s football practice, but it all came out right in end, as you’ll hear.

You see, the whole cup thing seems to have stopped, as far as we can tell. I had something to do with that, though not directly. It went back to something Tyler had said. Remember that he said I was back on the list, in second place? Apparently, whoever was behind the experiment or conspiracy or whatever it was had made some tweaks to the things along the way. I was the second guy to get the very latest cup model: second place, see? The guy in first place was some guy I had never met before named Zach Davis. My bro Steve-o, Steve O’Connor, was number three, and then there were three more nerds in process before whoever was running this show found a huge flaw in their plan. At least, it was a flaw to them. You see, every one of us that got that model turned out to be gay. Now, I don’t know for sure, but in my opinion, it could have just been dumb luck. I am pretty sure I was gay before. After all, I did have more than a bit of a crush on Tyler. It was one of the reasons I was so hurt when he dropped me and why I was so determined to find out why. And Becky was always a friend; I didn’t have, you know, feelings for Becky that way. It could have been the same for the other guys; I mean, really, gay nerds aren’t that uncommon. But it seems that the last thing whoever was running this program wanted was an army of cocky, built, gay alpha jocks who couldn’t be bullied. Too funny. Law of unintended consequences, anyone? Anyway, soon the old football coach was gone, and we had a new coach who was not involved, apparently, and had no idea that some of his star players had been nerds a short time before. And none of us are going to say anything.

Now no one knows (or admits knowing) what the goal might have been. If it was to change all the guys at school into jocks, I’m not sure how some of the bros would be able to pass their classes without some nerds to help them with their homework. Doesn’t really matter now, I guess. The jocks, new and old, are all happy with our lives, so we don’t care.

The new football coach had no problem with us gay jocks, and neither did the other bros. We were bros, too, after all. They trusted us, and the team needed us. If we happened to like dudes rather than chicks, that just left more chicks for them. As Tyler had said, girls liked big dumb brutes, and so did some guys. Even the dumbest, ugliest players on the team could always find dates, believe me.

As for me, well, turns out my bro Steve-o had a bit of a crush on me, and let me tell you bros that he’s turned into one smoking hot gay jock. We started seeing each other, and pretty soon we were boyfriends and the first couple on the football team.

Tyler’s still one of my best bros, and it was great to be friends and hang out again. Of course, we don’t spend as much time one-on-one as we did before, cause jocks really do kind of form a herd, and we don’t do the same things we used to. Now we might catch a game; then it might have been D and D, but it’s all good. Tyler and Brittney are getting pretty serious now, so she takes a lot of his time, and I spend a lot of my free time with Steve-o, naturally.

As for my old friend Becky, she wouldn’t even look at me for weeks after I had changed. Pretended I didn’t exist. And she really didn’t like jocks much, or so she said. But the funny thing about Becky, which I should have guessed, is that gay guys were her thing. As soon as Steve and I became a couple, suddenly Becky was apologizing for dropping me and asking if we could be friends again. She loves Steve, naturally. But the poor girl has needs, you know, like any girl her age, and while Steve and I were good friends, there was one itch neither of us could scratch, so to speak. Well, you won’t believe what happened next. Enter our bro, Derek. You remember: blond, buzz cut, side-of-beef Derek? The terror of freshmen and underdeveloped geeks? Yeah, that Derek. He comes to Steve and me and asks us to put in a good word for him with Becky! Thinks she’s way out of his league. Well, Derek is a great guy even if he is dumber than dirt, so sure, we did our bro a solid and pleaded his case with Becky. And she went out with him! And then she went out with him again! Now they seem to be getting as serious as Tyler and Brittney, and Tyler turns out to be right about girls again. I will admit I just can’t believe it. Brittney’s one thing; she’s the cheerleader type, and they always go for the jocks. But Becky? I have no idea what she and Derek talk about, but it seems to work for them. At least he doesn’t need to bully nerds into helping him with his homework; Becky’s got to be one of the smartest girls in school.

So, all in all, everything is going great and showing every sign of getting better. Tyler’s getting big enough that he could probably play linebacker next season. I’m not far behind him, and Steve-o’s catching up nicely in the weight room himself. Now that football season will be ending soon, I’m thinking whether I should go out for basketball. I don’t know; I’m a little bulky for basketball, and I’m not that tall. Wrestling might be a better fit. And the sight of my package in a singlet might scare any opponents right out of a match.

My room’s different too now. My old clothes are long gone. Even if I still wanted to wear that shit, none of it would have fit me a couple of months ago, let alone now. But Mom’s budget wouldn’t allow me to just lay in a new wardrobe. It would have been a waste anyway. The first few weeks after the cup came off, I was making some sick gains, and I would have outgrown anything that wasn’t super roomy or made with a lot of stretch. As it was, my appetite was already a strain on Mom. Tyler’s been super helpful, lending me some stuff and giving me what he could spare or grew out of, but Steve-o’s been the best. His parents are loaded, and his dad was so happy to have a jock son, even a gay jock son, that Steve-o can get almost anything he wants, even a few extras for his boyfriend. I eat dinner at their place nearly every night, which takes a lot of burden off my poor mother. I don’t want to be a charity case, though. I do make myself useful. And now that my growth and my appetite are stabilizing, I should be able to get some of my own clothes that I don’t grow out of in a month. Even a jock (and especially a gay jock) needs some decent outfits for occasions that don’t involve a locker room, and I’m not covering up this bod with baggy basketball shorts all the time.

As for all the nerd shit like comic books and whatever that Tyler and I used to spend our hours on, I boxed it up and put it in my closet. I don’t really want any of it, but I can’t get rid of it, at least not yet. I find it super boring and stupid now, but that stuff is all I have of who I used to be. I know it’s weird. I can barely remember being that guy, and I’m happy with my new life and would never go back, but I feel like, as long as I still have his stuff, my old self isn’t totally gone. The guy who wrote the beginning of this story is a stranger to me now, but when I read what he wrote, I mean, for a nerd, dude sure had some balls! So, yeah, I want to honor my old self’s courage – and the pain he went through, too. Reading the story now, it’s clear to me that the best part of my old self was my friendship with Tyler. Well, bros, don’t feel too sorry for the old me.  After everything that happened, I’m still friends with Tyler, and it’s fucking awesome, because that friendship is what brought me everything good that I have in my life now.

So, that’s the end of my story, bros, except for one last thing. Sort of an epilogue, if you know what that means (I told you dudes I wasn’t as dumb as I sound; I can use big words when I want to). You see, Steve and I are thinking that the Law of Unintended Consequences is fucking with this story again. Let me explain. Steve-o and I are an exclusive couple. Except for once. Now, neither one of us was interested in anyone else, but there was this one skinny guy, Jeremy, that had a HUGE thing for jocks. Kind of cute, but maybe weighed a hundred pounds on a good day. Well, obviously none of the straight bros are going to help Jeremy out, but as soon as we were out as a gay jock couple, the boy would not leave us alone. Wanted to make out with one or both of us for a night, an hour, fifteen minutes; in other words, whatever we’d be willing to give him. Well, we felt like being charitable. We finally decided that a little extra wouldn’t hurt our relationship, and we’d be doing the dude a favor and giving him an experience he wouldn’t soon forget. So, with the understanding that it was a one-time thing or else we’d do him some serious damage, we invited him over to Steve’s room one night. (No way my place would have worked; Mom would have heard everything.) Well, the dude may or may not have been a virgin, but he knew what he wanted. Of course, he nearly pissed himself when he saw our cocks, but he was so horny that he managed to – um – handle way more of both of us than I would have believed for such a small guy. Where there’s a will, I guess. And at least one of our jockstraps went missing after that, so I assume he kept a souvenir. But that was the end of that. Jeremy got what he wanted, and he didn’t try to renege on our deal.

So, it’s not as if little Jeremy hangs out with the bros, right? We don’t see him again right away. But when we do, he seems a little off. For one, he’s walking a little funny, as if something’s going on down there. We guessed maybe he was wearing his souvenir to school, and it wouldn’t exactly fit him, now would it? But it did look as if he had a lot more of a package than Steve-o and I remembered seeing. A few days later, he’s starting to look a bit different. Taller, A little bigger. His cute little face is looking less cute. He starts to look a bit distracted, and he’s scratching himself a lot when he thinks no one’s looking. Okay, so maybe it’s a normal growth spurt. I mean, as far as we both know, all the cups are all gone, and we’d be able to smell that on him in any case. Steve and I sure aren’t going to say anything, but we’ve got to wonder: is he turning? If so, the dude’ll probably be pretty happy, since jocks are what he’s into. But if he is turning, then it seems obvious that it must be something about his make-out session with us that triggered it. And if we could do that, what about the other converted gay jocks? If we’re all – contagious – if you follow me, then whoever started this fucking experiment may have his army of gay jocks yet, whether he wants it or not. And after everything that’s happened, bros, Steve and I think that has got to be about the most twisted ending to this story that we could have imagined.

[michavs]

FLASH DRIVE

TSUKISHIMA x Fem!Reader

Summary: A photography enthusiast forgets their flash drive at the lab, filled with photos they shouldn't have taken. Tsukishima Kei finds it and threatens to expose them unless they agree to pretend to be in a relationship. Over time, their fake feelings turn real. (Also please help to support my AO3, ty <3)

Tags: Tsukishima x fem!reader, slight Sugawara x reader, fake dating

Warnings: Reader being a stalker, language, blackmailing, grammatical mistakes probably

Click. The sound of your camera went off as you captured a photo of your awesome senior, Sugawara-san, playing soccer on the field in front of your class. You had been admiring him since your first day at this school, he was your mentor for student orientation.

“Cute.” you murmur while looking at the photo you captured, your heart fluttering at the sight of Sugawara’s smile frozen in time.

“You’re such a stalker, you’ll be in a big trouble if you get caught, you know.” your friend Yachi says, smirking at you as she nudges your shoulder playfully. You roll your eyes and gave her a defiant grin. “I don’t care.” you reply, shifting your position to get a better angle to shoot Sugawara-san again. The excitement of capturing the perfect shot makes your pulse quicken.

“Hey, help me out at the volleyball club at 5 PM. Kiyoko-san is absent today.” Yachi says, munching on her food with an air of nonchalance. “Yeah, sure. I’ll study in the lab while waiting.” you respond, your mind already wandering to the photos you’ll edit later.

Later, in the quiet of the lab, you sit ready with your computer. The intention to study is overshadowed by the thrill of transferring your photos. You connect your flash drive, your fingers trembling slightly as you gaze at Sugawara’s handsome face on the screen. Each click brings a new wave of admiration.

“All done!” you say excitedly, your voice echoing softly in the silent room. You pack up your things with a satisfied smile, already anticipating the next opportunity to photograph him. You get up from the lab chair, your steps light as you head to the volleyball court with your bag and camera in hand. Little do you know, in your excitement, you’ve forgotten to turn off the computer and your flash drive is still connected to it. The oversight, unnoticed in your eagerness, sets the stage for the unexpected events to come.

“Yachi, am I late?” you ask, your breath slightly ragged from rushing to the court. “Nope, we’re still waiting for the others.” she replies, glancing up from her attendance sheet. You scan for Sugawara-san’s face among the tall volleyball players, your heart beating faster with anticipation.

“There he is,” you murmur, eyes sparkling upon spotting Sugawara-san next to Daichi-san. Your pulse quickens, and a smile tugs at your lips.

“Hinata… here, Kageyama… here, Tsukishima… eh, where’s Tsukishima?” Yachi asks, her voice echoing in the gym as everyone shakes their heads.

“Tsukishima, the blonde guy with glasses, right? He was studying in the lab earlier,” you say, recalling the fleeting glimpse of him before. The door swings open, and Tsukishima strides in, his tall figure and blond hair unmistakable. “I’m here, sorry I’m late,” he says, placing his bag and headphones aside before joining the practice. Practice begins, and everyone immerses themselves in their activities. You sit on the sidelines, leaning against the wall, eyes drawn to Sugawara-san's every move. He’s graceful and focused, a natural leader on the court.

Suddenly, a loud thud catches your attention. BRUKKK You look over to see Tsukishima sprawled on the ground. Your heart skips a beat as everyone rushes to surround him, their concern palpable.

“I’m fine, no need to worry.” he reassures, brushing off their concerns and returning to the game. Your eyes follow him, noticing an item that has fallen from his pocket and landed right in front of you. A flash drive, identical to yours. You pick it up, frowning. “Hmm weird, it feels just like mine.” you mutter, rubbing the flash drive. Then you see it, a label with your name on it.

‘(Y/N) GRADE 10-C’

OH. MY. GOD. Panic sets in as you remember what you’d done before coming here. Your heart races, a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead. You forgot to take out the flash drive, and you left your computer on. Crap, what if he saw the files?

Great, now your life is over.

After practice, you gather your courage and approach Tsukishima. “Hey, can we talk for a second?” you call out, your voice trembling slightly. He’s walking with his friend, Tadashi, but they stop and turn to face you.

“Can’t you just say it here?” he replies curtly, with that annoying look on his face. You pull the flash drive he dropped from your pocket. “Oh, that. Do you know whose it is? Looks like they forgot to take it,” Tsukishima responds, a sly grin on his face.

“It’s mine, idiot. My name is literally right there,” you snap back, your frustration bubbling over. He whispers something to his friend, which you can’t hear. Tadashi gives you a sympathetic look before leaving, leaving you alone with Tsukishima.

“So, you’re the little stalker, huh?” he smirks, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“It’s for the photography club assignment, nothing else,” you retort, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh, really? Then what’s with the folder named ‘Pretty Boy, Suga-san’?” he teases, stepping closer until only a few centimeters separate you. You glare up at him, your height disadvantage making you feel even more vulnerable. “Let me see the flash drive.” he demands. You show it to him, but he suddenly snatches it and holds it above his head.

“Hey, give it back!” you cry, jumping to reach it.

In an unfortunate twist, you trip over Tsukishima’s foot. Luckily, he isn’t weak, so neither of you falls completely. You crash into his chest, and he catches your left hand while still holding the flash drive. His other hand steadies your waist. “Wow wow, watch it.” he complains, his voice softer, letting go of you.

“Well, give me back my flash drive then.” you demand, straightening your uniform and glaring at him.

“I will, but do me a favor first.”

“Huh, why are you so demanding.” you mutter, crossing your arms.

“Well, if you won’t do it, say goodbye to your image then Ms. Stalker.” he threatens, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“No. Please don’t share it, I’ll do anything you want.” you sob, your eyes starting to water. Panicking, you grab Tsukishima's shoulders, pleading desperately. “Wow, chill. I didn’t know you’d freak out like this,” he chuckles, gently prying your hands off his shoulders. “Let’s go on a date for a month.” he adds, his tone flat.

“Stop joking,” you shoot back, annoyed and desperate.

“I’m not joking. If you don’t want to, then whatever,” he shrugs, a smirk playing on his lips. You roll your eyes at his smug expression. “Fine, it’s a deal then.”

“Yeah, it’s a deal. See you tomorrow, Ms. Girlfriend.” he says, giving you a wink before walking away, leaving you standing there, trying to process everything that had just happened.

“Damn it, please tell me this is just a dream.” you mutter to yourself, hoping for an escape from this surreal situation.

──────────────────

Weeks has been passed, you and Tsukishima grow closer, and what started as a fake relationship begins to feel real. You start to notice the little things about him – the way he listens intently when you talk, his subtle acts of kindness, and his rare, genuine smiles. As the month of your fake dating arrangement nears its end, you and Tsukishima walk home together after his volleyball practice for what you believe might be the last time. . The streets are quiet, the sky painted with the warm hues of the setting sun. You feel a mix of relief and sadness, knowing that this bizarre yet strangely comforting chapter of your life is about to close.

The silence between you stretches, comfortable yet tinged with an unspoken tension. You steal glances at Tsukishima, wondering if he feels the same way. As you reach a familiar corner, you slow your pace, reluctant to let this moment end. Tsukishima seems to notice, his steps matching yours until you both come to a stop. He turns to face you, his usual cool eyes softened by an unusual intensity in his eyes.

“(Y/N).” he starts, his voice steady but quieter than usual.

“Yeah?” you respond, trying to keep your voice casual despite the fluttering in your chest. He takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “This month… it was supposed to be just a favor, right? A fake relationship to help me out,” You nod, unsure where he’s going with this but afraid to hope.

“But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake for me,” he admits, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. “I know we agreed to end this after a month, but… I don’t want it to end.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What are you saying, Tsukishima?”

“I’m saying that I like you, (Y/N). Not just for this month, not just for the sake of our arrangement. I genuinely like you,” he confesses, his voice earnest and a bit vulnerable. “And I want us to be real.” You stare at him, trying to process his words. The cold, aloof Tsukishima is looking at you with a raw honesty that you’ve never seen before.

“Tsukishima…” you whisper.

“Kei.” he corrects softly.

Your own feelings bubbling to the surface. “I like you too. I’ve liked you for a while now, but I was afraid to say anything because I thought it was just part of the deal.” He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “It’s not part of any deal. I want to be with you, for real.”

You smile, tears of relief and joy welling up in your eyes. “I want that too, Kei.” With a small, relieved smile, Tsukishima leans in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to your lips. It’s gentle and sweet, filled with the promise of something real and lasting.

As you pull away, you both smile at each other, the tension of the past month melting away.

“Ah right here, you’ve fulfilled your end of the deal” he says and hands back your glash drive. You take it, “Thanks.” you reply softly with a small giggles.

He looks at you for a moment before speaking again. “Since I’m your boyfriend now, you should delete those Sugawara-san’s photos, okay?” he says.

“I’ll delete them, i guess.” you reply, looking at him playfully. He chuckles, a rare, genuine laugh. “Yeah yeah, now let’s go home.”

“Mhm, let’s go home, Kei.” you agree, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. Walking hand in hand, you both head home, knowing that this is just the beginning of something beautiful.

From that moment on, your relationship with Kei blossoms. The teasing and banter continue, but now it’s filled with affection and understanding. You find comfort in his presence, and he becomes your rock, always there to support you. Your friends notice the change, and they’re happy for you both. Even Tadashi, who has always been supportive, gives you a thumbs-up and a wink.

© MICHAVS 2024, please do not translate or repost my fics without my permission.

[kurishiri]

epilogue . . . “ the medical record of the love between the hunter and me ”

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— this is the epilogue story for roger’s past records, which is available after sending hearts 700 times. this is told in kate’s point of view, and takes place after they become a couple, so i would personally recommend reading this after you've read at least one branch of his route. (but it's not necessarily required!)

— cw: roger without glasses 🤭, nsfw (fade to black), a bit unedited.

It was the early afternoon, the weather clear, a little after Roger and I had become lovers.

“Your medical records could use some polishing, lil lady.”

That was what Roger said as he called me to the laboratory.

Roger: I asked Victor for your diagnostic tests, right? As for your weight——

Kate: Don’t read it out loud!

Roger: Humans are about the only living beings that care about every little thing about their weight.

Kate: Well, I can’t argue with that, but still...

Roger: It’s all well and good you grew up big.

Even after becoming lovers, it seemed Roger’s tendency to lack delicacy sometimes was going strong.

(Well, that said... I also love that about him too.)

Kate: Wait, I’m pretty sure filling in my medical record won’t make much difference... there’s not much point...

Roger: ‘There’s not much point,’ you say?

Kate: I mean, what you want is data on the Cursed ones, right?

K: As much as I’d love to be of help to you, I’m not Cursed myself...

Roger: Hey now, don’t go saying sad stuff like that.

R: Kate, as my special fairytale keeper, you’ll need to continue to accompany me on missions from here on out.

R: And that’s already asking for more danger than a normal person. That’s all to say,

R: if I get to know you on an even deeper level, I can save you more.

With a broad grin, Roger’s canine tooth peeked out.

That smile alone was enough to make me happy...

(To think Roger’s thought this much about me!)

The happiness at having become his lover spread through my entire body, and I gave him a broad nod in turn.

Kate: If that’s the case, I’ll answer anything!

Roger: .........Anything, huh.

In my enthusiasm in answering, I missed Roger’s words, which came in a whisper.

Roger: Then, let’s start the examination.

Kate: Alright, I’ll be in your care!

Roger: What’s your type, lil lady?

(.........Huh?)

Kate: Is... is that needed for the medical record?

Roger: Very much actually. I’m a former doctor, so you think I’d go around asking pointless questions?

Kate: W-well, besides, we are dating already, so do I really need to say my type out loud...

Roger: Your type could be different, even if we are dating. So I have to ask, just in case.

(Is... that true?)

There was no hesitation in Roger’s tone, so it would be strange not to be able to answer.

My type, huh——Roger’s figure popped into my mind then.

Kate: Uhm, I like to watch someone eat a lot, I think.

Roger: Eat a lot, you say? Ahh, so you mean me?

Kate: T-that’s not necessarily the case!

Roger paid no mind to how flustered I was from him hitting the bull’s eye, instead asking the next question.

Roger: Okay, next. What’s something you’ve found fun recently?

He asked the question so quickly to me, I felt I had to answer quickly.

Kate: Something fun is... ah...

K: Yesterday, I had some very hot food, and it was so spicy I ended up laughing.

Roger: You’re talking about the one we were eating together, right? I remember that too.

Kate: ...Eh, ah...

Roger: Okay, next. Who in Crown do you find the most charming?

Kate: That...

I didn’t even have to mull over it; that was just how charming Roger was.

(...Oh no.)

——This is definitely not for filling in the medical records.

But by the time I realized, it was already too late.

Roger: What, keeping quiet? Then, let me ask a final question, for a bad patient.

Roger’s fingertips poked over where my heart was.

Roger: You’ve been teased so relentlessly, and yet your heart’s beating so fast... why is that?

Roger has the ability to hear sounds up to 100 yards away.

So it came as no surprise that he was aware how fast my heart was beating.

Kate: Please don’t listen in...

Roger: No can do, your heart’s the one that’s too noisy.

R: See, it’s going thump thump so fast, it’s pretty cute.

Kate: Uu...

Roger: Oh? You’re going to cry? In that case, by all means, feel free to. I’ll be happy about that.

(T-this man, I swear——!)

I threw him the sharpest glare I could muster at a grinning Roger.

Kate: I thought this before we got together, too, but why do you always have to do things like this!?

K: You say you don’t like doing anything unnecessary, but then you go and do exactly that!

Roger: That’s because I want to take care of you.

R: Because your crying face is cute.

R: Because I want to talk more with you.

R: And because, if it’s with you, I don’t find any of it unnecessary.

R: I’ve got loads of reasons up my sleeve. You wanna hear more?

He hit me with one sweet reason after another as if being shot by a gun, rendering me unable to respond.

No matter how frustrated I got at his teasing, I ended up on the palm of his hand,

and I end up wagging my tail in happiness, like a dog.

I really do like Roger.

(God... I really want to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him right now.)

But, if I wag my tail so easily for him, I wouldn’t be any different than Ale.

(I’m the woman who’s been trained by Roger, so I need to have some kind of comeback.)

(After all, I’m not someone who just falls on the palm of others!)

Regaining my composure, I tried to act out a confident, capable woman.

Kate: Haven’t we talked enough about me? Now you answer my questions.

K: It’s not fair if I’m the only one doing the answering.

Roger: Hmm? Okay then, ask away.

Kate: “What’s your type,” Roger?

I returned the question that had left me flustered before back at Roger, and I inwardly chuckled to myself.

(Hehe, it would be nice if I could make Roger feel the same way I did, even just a little.)

——But, my intentions were seen through all too soon, to my disappointment.

Roger: “My type” is someone who’s much like a dog, and someone who can think for themself.

R: And if you have the spirit to try and get back at me for what I did to you, all the better.

R: Ahh, come to think of it, someone like the one right before my eyes is really my type.

Kate: Wh...

Roger: “What’s something you’ve found fun recently?”

R: Right now, this moment.

Kate: Ah...

Roger: “Who in Crown do you find the most charming?”

R: If you count as a member of Crown——then it can only be you, Kate.

I could only blink in response as Roger’s strong arms wrapped around me.

My ears were pressed against his warm chest...

Roger: Here, listen to my heart.

Being hit with those sweet words on top of that, I felt myself going dizzy.

Kate: I think my heart’s being too noisy... so, I can’t tell.

Roger: Pfft, hahahaha!

R: Guess that makes it my win.

Seeing him laugh so happily while patting my head, that sort of innocence was rare coming from him, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

(...Jeez... I really am no match for him.)

Kate: Hehe, I don’t recall this ever having been a match, but I surrender.

I was always on the palm of his head, and that was so frustrating it was unbearable.

But, I’m not someone who will fall into anyone’s palm.

(Roger, you are the most special to me, and I wouldn’t replace you for the world.)

(That’s why, I will happily fall into the palm of your hand.)

Roger: What’re you talking about, isn’t it too early to surrender?

The hand that had been on my head slipped before grabbing and lifting my chin.

Roger: We’ve only just become lovers. So we have to get to know each other more.

The eyes before me pierced me with a heat that resembled a hunter aiming for his prey.

He didn’t even try to conceal that heat, and it brought out my desire as well.

Kate: ...What do we need to do, in order to get to know each other deeper?

Roger: Let’s see now, first of all...

Kate: Mn, nn...

While kissing me, Roger lifted me before pinning me down on the lab table.

Roger: Do I need to spell out the rest... lil lady?

Just thinking about what he was going to do made the bottom of my stomach throb.

As if seeing through my desire, Roger’s fingers traced my thighs before they made their way in my underwear.

Roger: ...Hm?

(Ahh, jeez...)

I removed Roger’s glasses, and in an attempt to divert him from my embarrassment, I turned my face away.

Kate: ...I know, but still... tell me.

Roger: .........Alright, I’ll tell you everything.

—— Time skip ——

As the night deepened, Victor and Roger’s shadows were present in the lounge.

Victor: Oh, right, Roger. About Kate’s medical records...

Roger: Ahh, that. I have it here.

Victor: Thank you, that was quick as always. Oh? This date...

V: To think you’ve taken such detailed records on her since the day she started as a fairytale keeper...

Roger: Well, yeah.

Victor: I’m sure if Kate knew, she would be delighted.

Roger: No, best to keep that a secret.

R: Since the day I met her, the thing I liked the most was giving her a bit of trouble.

Fin.

← main story 👑 ecb story 🪞🍻

full masterlist 🍻

END NOTES: i believe this basically concludes my translation of roger’s past records! and a big big thank you to everyone who read to the end! i had fun translating this story, since in addition to roger, we can see a variety of other characters being featured — and they even feature a chapter where crown is just being the dysfunctional found family they are 🤭

i hope this story can serve as a good starting for roger’s route (and perhaps future routes too, though in the end we still don’t know too much about victor, haha). i’d love to hear your thoughts 🥹🙏

[pro-mammonologist]

Demons Are a Girl’s Best Friend

A fun vacation to the mountains! The brothers are fascinated by the human world and even more fascinated by the human world’s interpretation of them. After exploring a local church, Asmodeus learns of Mc’s relationship with the church as well as igniting an interesting fantasy of theirs.

What happens when the brothers discover Mc’s more impure fantasies? (Plenty of irony)

Note: inspired by the song Demons Are a Girl’s Best Friend by Powerwolf, if you’re okay with a little bit of metal, you’ll love this and want it in your obey me playlist

GN!Poly!Mc but with a coochie x All Bros

This chapter is SFW with NSFW conversation but no explicit action. The MC also has religious trauma so yeah.

Chapter 1: “theres a phantom lust to wake”

You shielded your eyes from the light blistering down on your skin. Having been in the Devildom so long, you forgot the intensity of the sun. You were thankful it was warm considering the coolness of the Devildom, it was a nice change, it was familiar. You packed cool clothes, making sure that your outfits were nice and airy for your trip. The brothers did the same, considering how their bodies had adjusted to the coolness of the Devildom, you already had Asmo and Mammon droning on about the heat only a few hours into your arrival.

Yes, your arrival. Lucifer wanted a trip with all of you and everyone said the usual beach, camping, famous city 1, famous city 2, and Lucifer of course suggested a factory tour but you wanted to relax. So, Satan suggested a more scenic trip, a nature trip. You loved the idea, being a lover of adventure. At least with them! So you all got to planning you settled on a mountain trip. Central Europe has many different attractions but none compare to the beauty of the mountains, especially in Switzerland.

“Man, ever been here before?” Mammon asked to no one in particular.

Satan opened your travel guide. “No, I don’t think any of us have been at least not to this one specifically.”

You looked out the window next to Mammon, lofting yourself from the seat on your train. “Are we not going to the alps?”

Lucifer chuckled from across you. “The alps would be boring… what if you’ve gone before?” He sipped at his tea, swirling the cup around before placing it on the tray in front you.

“I’m human, Lucifer, and this stuff costs money and time! What makes you think I’d have explored the alps in their entirety!” The scenery outside was enough to keep you fascinated, let alone the mountain trip approaching.

You could hear faint snoring behind you in the aisle and Beel munching on whatever food he had. Levi was babbling about how he’s seen this exact area in such and such while Asmo doted on the woman on the other side of the train. They pulled straws to choose who’d be sitting with you, short had to sit the next aisle over. They’re convinced Mammon cheated, but he insisted that if that were the case he wouldn’t have Lucifer in the same row as you two. Lucifer was offended, but it was entertaining to listen to them bicker as Satan told you about his most recent series.

You were on the train for much longer than you figured you’d be, causing eventually the whole party to lament. Once you arrived, you all were thrilled and ready to explore, but what caught everyone’s attention the fastest was the cathedral in the middle of the town.

“Beautiful architecture.” Lucifer noted, smiling to himself. “Catholic imagery has always had its appeal despite its not so kind depiction of us.” You could hear Satan scoff and you giggled at his reaction.

“I agree.” you could smell the incense from the exit of the train station. “I was shocked to find you and Satan are two separate beings.” You moved toward Lucifer as Beel lifted Belphie and his bags back up.

“Man, churches are kinda eh, if you ask me. Pretty but uncomfortable!” Mammon thumbed his nose up and pushed his sunglasses up, though with the current weather, they are unneeded. “Ain’t these places supposed to be sunny?”

“It’s Europe,” you sighed, “it’s always cloudy!”

“Still too hoooooot…” Asmo whined. “And we have to walk to where we are staying??? Ugh!” He looked exhausted despite having just sat for hours. “I’m already so beat!”

Satan started walking eastward. “Well, to rest, we need to actually get there first!”

“Well, that building has people giving out refreshments!” Beel notes, also feeling thirsty and tired. And hungry. “Maybe they have food.”

“Uhhhh,” you start, ready to protest but Mammon, Asmo, Levi and Beel (also Belphie) are already heading that direction.

“I don’t see why we can’t go inside. Perhaps we might learn something interesting.” Lucifer suggests and Satan gives up on trying to get to the cabin and follows suit. You give in as well.

Getting up close, you’re even more impressed. The stained glass and Roman build, the renaissance ambience, its all amazing. You inhale the scent of incense again and exhale. It’s hard to not be familiar with any Christian establishment in this world, especially of a Catholic nature and within Europe. Nuns were walking around the courtyard and they greet your party, speaking German. Satan speaks it eloquently and they offer to give you home baked bread. Beel obliges and eats it up in seconds.

“Danke.” You feel strange, receiving food from a place you abandoned long ago. You find it strange how the brothers seem so unbothered by it’s presence, but considering the various interpretations of demons, it makes sense.

“So holy water won’t burn huh?” You ask Asmo, who is drinking to his hearts content.

“This is bottled water, sweetie… I don’t think it’s holy unless they bless it.” He winks and offers the rest to you.

“Yeah… I think it’s funny how you guys are so… chill.” You trail off and fixate onto the crucifix adorning the doors of the church.

Asmo blinks and looks at you deeply. “It’s just a building. Humans get a lot of stuff wrong about us, don’t worry.” He sees your sudden shift in mood. “I love how cute you get when you’re worried.” He tries to soften the mood and make you smile.

Your eyes remain transfixed on the building. “I’m not worried, I just never thought I’d be back at one of these after meeting you guys. Any house of worship, really, especially a Christian one.”

Asmo looks confused. “I don’t really know this stuff, I just know they think we torture bad humans and there’s like 9 layers of the Devildom… oh and that Lilith was a human that corrupted the first human man or whatever.” He leans in closer. “Do the books and stuff say anything about me????”

“Yeaaahh.” You respond and finally look away from the doors. “I don’t really remember that much. All I really remember is the stuff about Lucifer.”

He pouts and walks to the doors. “Man, why is he so special. He’s beautiful but he isn’t me.” He pushed them open and the sound of the old doors creaking open make you jump.

The nuns look over in your direction and your face goes red. Satan comes up from behind you and grabs your shoulders. “Jumping like that makes you seem more demon than we.” He looked down at you and you shuffled out of his grip.

“Those things are too loud to be that old.” You hear Mammon say looking toward you. He has a cheeky grin on his face and his sunglasses now folded and hanging on his shirt. “Don’t worry,” he nudges, “I’ll protect ya from any scary nuns.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. Satan looks to where Asmo has stopped inside, admiring the—

“Gold!” Mammon shouts and chases after Asmo.

“There he goes again… do you want to go inside?” Satan asks you and you look aside to the rest of the brothers who are now looking toward you.

“It seems like…” you look at their eager and curious faces. “You all want to go in.”

“Is it wrong to be curious? We never get that much time here especially in a place with fictional depictions of us. You could say it’s like we are evil celebrities here.” Satan mentions and he’s right. Who wouldn’t want to know what someone wrote about them, especially if that many people believe it.

“Okay.” You say, nodding. “I wouldn’t mind seeing what they’re burning. It smells really good.”

You go inside and find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Asmo once again who was scurrying around trying to figure out what everything is. “Hey! Mc, what’s that man doing?”

“He’s going into confession.” You answer bluntly.

“Confession?” Asmo ponders aloud.

Mammon interrupts, “yeah you don’t know what that is? You confess to people stuff.”

“Kinda. But to a priest and it’s your sins.” You add, moving along to find where the smell is coming from.

“Ooooh… so it’s like that ‘daddy, sorry I’ve been naughty’ thing!” Asmo looks jubilant.

“Uh, more like ‘forgive me father, for I have sinned.’” Their ignorance is shocking. Don’t they know anything? “You really not know that or are you joking?”

Asmo taps his finger on his lip. “What’s the difference?”

Both you and Mammon look shocked now. You say, “uh, ones horny ones not!”

Asmo looks offended almost. “Are you not supposed to be horny in church?”

You froze and blinked for a minute. “Huh?” Thank the gods that there aren’t any English speakers around. “You… Asmo, you know lust is a sin.”

“Obviously but I was curious! It’s really funny that sorta stuff is sinful even though I see sexy nun costumes all over the place at Halloween in the human world. Don’t forget sexy priest too!”

It’s unfathomable what you hear from them sometimes, especially when it makes no sense. They’ve mastered your language, understand human pop culture for the most part, they even know some chunks of human history, but the one thing they don’t know is directly about them?

Lucifer joins your group. “You seem rather shocked, Mc. Is something wrong?”

“How do you not know anything about the group responsible for the whole religion condemning you?” You ask and Lucifer sighs.

“Well, as you know, I’ve long detested how I am depicted as well as the fact that Satan and I aren’t even considered separate beings. Truth be told, I just never encouraged them or myself to learn anything about it after the fall. I didn’t want them to be upset. Now, since you’re here, I think we might be more willing to interact with it.” Lucifer looks content and his words sound honest. That also makes sense but it’s still very mind-boggling their ignorance. “Mc, I only know what I’ve been told to be honest. I know much more about other depictions of demons that might be more accurate to us. But most human tales are a bit ridiculous.” Lucifer notes, scrolling to show you an image of Baphomet. “You mean to tell me most humans think this is me when it quite literally isn’t even me in the tale itself?”

“Yeah, I guess if it got that crazy, I would stay out of it too. Plus it’s not like you could really intervene and tell people it isn’t true.” You feel Lucifer’s cold hand on the small of your back. “Huh?”

“I’m curious, what did you think when you were going to meet us?” Lucifer looks at you, smiling.

“Well… a lot to be honest. Demons are depicted as deceitful, they’re to lure humans into sin. They’ll often treat you kindly, seduce you, or do whatever to make you feel safe and then take everything from you so I sorta expected that… but also I knew deep down that there’s no way that’s all true.” You answer him honestly.

He chuckles. “We do treat you kind, seduce you, and try to make you feel safe. Do you worry we are manipulating you?” He’s smiling but he’s hiding concern in his voice.

“Truth be told, the church manipulates so much that I figured I’d be used to it.” You only make him laugh again. “I know you guys love me.”

“Hmm, if I was expected to confess all of my wrongdoings to one person I’d feel terrible as well. That’s a lot of power to give one person, Mc.” His hand remains on your back and is now accompanied by Asmo’s arm.

“Heyyyy! We can all get a touch, can’t we??? I’d happily confess all my naughty thoughts to you, Mc!” Asmo snakes himself in between you and Lucifer. “And all the naughty things I’ve done.

“I’m sure you would.” You grin now, a thought coming into your head. “Say, wonder what that priest would say if I told him I’ve been bedding with demons.”

Lucifer grinned. “I’m sure they’d consider you quite the sinful human. I imagine sleeping with demons make for quite the punishment?” You nudged him playfully and stood by him for a minute.

“Don’t go getting too many ideas now.”

The clouds in the sky were heavy, ready to downpour. Lucifer pulled them group out of the church and you said your goodbyes to the nuns and made your way to your lodgings. It wasn’t too long of a journey, the rain only began when you were a few blocks from it. Lucifer rented an airbnb for your group and it was a homely loft, almost castle-like. It was clearly an older structure but had been receiving regular updates. It had only 4 bedrooms, but a multitude of beds for you all to share.

“So who gets to sleep with Mc?” Oh no. It has begun.

Beel asked the question innocently and Mammon was the first to speak up. “Obviously me!”

Asmo next. “Well, I think they want to sleep with me.”

Then Belphie half asleep. “Me n’ Beel should share.”

And then Satan. “I came up with the idea for the trip so I should pick where I sleep first and I choose where Mc plans to stay.”

Then Lucifer. “You picked it and I did the planning, I deserve first pick.”

Then Levi. “I never get to go first so I should!”

It was always bound to be chaos when you had to share rooms especially with seven demons completely obsessed with you.

You spoke up. “Let me try to make this fair. I guess I should choose first?”

They all agreed and you wandered the space. One room was large with one king sized bed in the middle, accompanied by a large window showing you the outside view of the woods. It was a dark room, much like the rest of the loft. Next there was another large room, this one with one bunk bed and another bed caddy cornered against the wall. It only has one window and small laterns hung to the ceiling, it’s charming and fantasy like. Thirdly, there’s another slightly smaller room complete with two beds next to each other, it wasn’t anything impressive, just like a hotel room complete with dark academia ambience. And lastly, a room about the same size as the next, another set of beds similar to the previous room but this time, it had a large window the exact same as the first room. The view in this one was certainly on par with the first one and you debated over which one.

But the answer was clear to you. “I want the first room. One more person can fit in the bed with me.” They looked as though they were ready to fight. “Okay, let’s do it this way… pick a number 1-50.”

“Ugh… 7.” Belphie answered.

“33.” Satan.

“I was gonna choose that one! 44.” Mammon.

“12.” Lucifer.

“Hmm… 24.” Levi.

“18!” Asmo.

And then Beel. “40.”

You waited a moment before saying who won. “Asmo gets to sleep with me.”

The brothers sighed of annoyance as Asmo celebrated and came up to you. “Yaaay! We’re gonna have lots of fun together.” He wrapped his arms around your hips and you pushed him back.

“Don’t get too touchy now. And don’t go feeling me up as I try to go to sleep, ‘kay???”

He pouted. “That’s no fun but I guess I will listen.”

You all started to move into your rooms and settle in. You could see the sunsetting as the downpour was intense. The sound was nice and calming, it made you want to cuddle up and relax with the brothers, but other things were on their minds. You walked up to the window to watch as the rain fell, gazing out into the woods.

“Mc, what are you thinking about?” Asmo asked, plopping onto the bed.

“Nothing really, just shocked Lucifer didn’t check the weather better.” You answered, briefly gazing back at Asmo.

“It must’ve not been in the forecast. You seemed upset earlier.” His voice went serious. “Was the church uncomfy for you?” He pulled at your arm to get you to sit on the bed.

“You could say that. I was kinda worried about you guys too. But really… there’s just not a lot of good in places like that. Even though they pretend to be good.” You chose your words wisely, not wanting to venture deeper.

He waited a moment before responding. “Okay. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah I’m good, to be honest…” you trailed off and your cheeks went pink. “I joked with Lucifer about how the priest would react if he found out I’ve been fucking you guys.”

Asmo giggled. “I imagine they’d be jealous, hun.” He rolled onto his back and cocked his head. “Ever seen any pretty ones?”

“Pretty priests??? Most of them are old.” You laughed, confused by his question.

“Well, it’d be funny if I were to seduce one huh? As a demon? It might be fun!” He suggested, his brain filling with naughty ideas.

You laid back beside him. “Well, they’re people too. I bet they wanna fuck.”

He turned his head to you slowly. “Have you ever been attracted to anyone of a pure status?”

You squinted at him, smirking. “Well, it is interesting to consider defiling them. But no one has ever caught my eye.”

“Demons love to corrupt.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Mc, I have… an idea.”

Uh oh. You looked at him and shrugged. “Okay.”

“You’ve already been corrupted by demons, so why not get punished by priests.” He suggested, nonchalantly.

“You want me to go get fucked by priests?” You were shocked, looking at him like he’s crazy.

“No silly, even better! Us pretending to be priests!!!! See, it sounds fun!”

Asmo was a man of many talents and many thoughts, but this one hit multiple parts of your psyche. Religious trauma, arousal, demons, kinks, and your insatiable lust for all of the above to be combined. Something you didn’t know until now. Well. Really, that’s a lie. It has always been arousing to consider how, as Asmo said, they’ve corrupted you, but to fantasize about retribution? Now, that’s new.

Asmo ran his hand up your arm. “Mc, you’ve been thinking a while…”

You snapped back in. “I like that idea.” You couldn’t be shy around him anymore, there’s no point with how well he can read you now. “So you wanna include the rest of them?”

“Satan and Lucifer will likely love this idea. Lucifer loves to punish as you know.” Asmo leaped up from the bed. “Let me go ask them now!”

“Hey!” You raced after him and he shouted for everyone to gather in the middle of the room. You were already feeling hot, embarrassment searing through you.

The brothers walked out of their rooms, complaining of being summoned, too tired, or annoyed. Asmo grinned eagerly and awaited for you to get beside him.

“So! Our lovely Mc confided in me of something naughty!” Asmo wrapped an arm around you and you saw the mood of the room instantly change.

“Naughty?” Lucifer’s mouth widened into a grin. “Do tell.”

The rest of them all nodded in agreement. Belphie yawned. “We just got here and they’re horny huh?”

You shot Belphie daggers with your eyes. “Asmo suggested I merely agreed.” He laughed at your response and looked at Asmo, eagerly awaiting to hear your fantasy.

“Mc has been dirtied by all of us, corrupted and fucked nice and good, so it’s up to the holy to punish them for their sins, is it not?”

Satan was the first to respond. “And we are to take up these holy roles?” He leaned on the railing to the stairs, propping his elbows up and resting his chin on his hands, his eyes lowering. “I quite like that.”

Lucifer chuckled. “Sounds interesting.”

“So we’re gonna punish ‘em?” Mammon looked to you, his face unreadable.

Levi came up beside Mammon, making him jump. “Ohhhh this is like that one episode of That One Time I Got Turned Into A Human! I know exactly what to do!” Levi looked even more excited that Satan or Lucifer.

Beel was still quiet but he looked deep in thought. When his eyes met yours you instantly knew what he was thinking about. You could see hunger in his eyes, this one not for food.

“So we’re all in agreement? Why don’t we do it tonight since we are all rained in?” Mammon broke the silence and to your own surprise as well.

“Hm, it’s short notice but I’m sure we can negotiate a scene.” Lucifer nodded and looked around to see everyone’s reactions and then his gaze landed back on you. “Shall we get on with it then?”

You breathed in deeply. “Yeah.”

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2024: Day 16 - Golden

Oh, How Rebecca Loved the Sun...

In a siding, tucked behind a long line of trucks awaiting transport to the works for repairs, sat a West Country class. Her name was Rebecca, and she was patiently awaiting her crew. Golden rays of sun shone down on her, warming her boiler through and leaving her comfortable and just a little sleepy.

“Morning, Rebecca,” called her driver, striding over from the sheds. “I see they left you out in the sun again, eh? You always were fond of the sun.” “It just feels so nice, driver,” chuckled Rebecca. “Surely you understand?” Her driver just nodded in agreement, already starting his checks. As soon as he was out of sight though, he grimaced.

Rebecca was a delightful engine to work with – but she was naïve and oblivious to the extreme. All around her, steam engines had been withdrawn and replaced by diesels and electrics – she herself had been moved from Exmouth Junction just before all her classmates there were unceremoniously pulled from service and dragged away to be cut up. And yet somehow Rebecca didn’t realise. She barely noticed as the number of steam engines around her grew smaller and smaller with each passing year, long time friends vanishing while she was out on an express run.

“They’re just being useful elsewhere!” Rebecca would say when her driver tentatively asked what had happened to them, hoping one day Rebecca would wise up to the truth of the situation and admit they’d been scrapped. And every time Rebecca replied that her old friends – many of whom she’d known since she was built – had simply been transferred, her driver caved and agreed that he’d heard that too.

What was he supposed to say to his engine? This living sunflower of a locomotive who only seemed to see the best in everything, even as she became run down due to a lack of maintenance.

“Come on Rebecca, we’ve got a train to pull,” her driver said kindly, and swung up into her cab. He could only hope to keep protecting her for as long as possible. At least until she either figured it out on her own or he was unable to hide it any longer. And much to his displeasure, he didn’t think either of those options had a very long lifespan left in them.

***

Rebecca’s driver clung to the letter, scrunching it up in his hands. His engine had been sold off.

“I thought I’d get longer,” he sighed, letting the letter fall to the floor as every fibre of his body seemed to sag in sadness. His golden girl was being preserved, sure – but not on the railway. She would likely not run again, not where she was going.

“Morning Rebecca!” he chirped, trying to put on a brave face. The West Country Class opened a sleepy eye, gazing down at her driver even as she hummed at the warmth of the beams of sunlight gently warming her boiler. “I have exciting news for you!” “Oh? What is it driver?” asked Rebecca curiously, gazing down at him with bright eyes. Looking closer, the deep, also black of the pupils was flecked with hints of golden, her eyes an almost warm brown in the sun.

“You’ve been sold,” her driver said as gently as he could. “You’re going to get a full overhaul and a special coat of paint next week, and then you’ll be going to your new home!” He tried to smile, but it felt weak in front of his engine. Rebecca just stared at her driver in confusion.

“Who bought me?” she asked. “S. J. Edwards’,” replied her driver. Rebecca frowned; had she been a puppy, she’d have tilted her head to the side in confusion. Her driver felt a bit like he was telling a golden retriever he was ‘selling it to a farm in Scotland’.

“Isn’t that the toy company?” quizzed Rebecca. “I didn’t know they needed an engine.” “Neither did I, Rebecca,” replied her driver. “But that’s who bought you.” Rebecca seemed… apprehensive about the revelation that she was being sold on, but still went about her regular duties with her usual cheerful mood.

“Maybe I’m going to pull special trains of toys for children,” she thought to herself out loud. Her driver winced in her cab, but said nothing. He would just have to let her dream for a little while longer.

The days passed rapidly, far too rapidly. The sun kept up its shining for once, giving Rebecca plenty of time out in its golden rays. To her driver, it was almost as if the heavens above were giving Rebecca her swansong. She was certainly getting the most out of the good weather, spending all her time out soaking up the sunshine in between trains. In the sheds, the other engines spoke in hushed tones about the odd West Country Class who just seemed oblivious to everything, though her driver did everything he could to keep Rebecca from hearing the whispers.

It was not enough. It was never enough.

Rebecca was sent to Eastleigh Works for the repairs. She was to get a full overhaul to prepare her for her new life – one of the last major overhauls of a steam engine the works would ever undertake, and also Rebecca’s first true taste of the truth. Without her driver or her friends around to protect her, Rebecca was faced with the ugly reality of British Rail. As she waited for her turn in the works, she was placed in the Eastleigh engine sheds, right near where rows of steam engines stood silent, men weaving between them with cutting torches. These men held none of the same love for steam engines that her driver did. Instead, they silently did their work, slicing deep cuts into slowly rusting engines to pull them apart and sell off their metal for reuse. A line of stonily silent trucks stood between the engines living at Eastleigh sheds and those dying there, a stark dividing line which was being steadily loaded up with the cut-up remains of the engines.

The weather changed too, the sun hiding away behind thick grey clouds that unleashed great heaps of rain all over the countryside. Rebecca was left cold and alone, not even able to talk to the other engines due to how shocked she was.

“Poor thing,” sighed a Lord Nelson Class from the other side of the yard. “She really had no clue apparently. Must’ve been nice, living without the knowledge.” Rebecca didn’t agree. She wished she had known, she wished she’d been able to grab all of her friends and cling tightly to them. They were gone now, weren’t they? Brought to places like this and left on cold, damp sidings until they were ripped into by the scrappers. They’d all put on such positive attitudes around Rebecca that she’d never suspected, never heard the undercurrent of fear that permeated every illness and rust patch that made itself known.

Her friends were dead.

Rebecca was a very different engine, going into the works. Even as she was buffed and shined and gifted brand new parts machined to perfection to ensure she was the absolute peak of health, all she could think about was how there were hundreds of engines right outside being treated to agony and death while she was pampered. Rebecca didn’t even notice the golden yellow livery being deftly applied until it was finished, bright orange and red lining and embellishments being carefully added to compliment the new colourful livery. Her number was changed, as was the lettering on her tender.

Gone was the old British Railways logo; in its place stood a large stuffed bear holding a banner with ‘S. J. Edwards’ written on it in a fancy logo. The teddy bear looked very fancy, not that Rebecca could see it. All she could see was the men scurrying about in front of her, preparing her to be moved.

She had taken up enough space in their workshop for too long already, and now they wanted her gone so they could begin work on the next EMU overhaul. Rebecca was dragged out by a Class 07 and gently pushed backwards up a rickety ramp and onto the back of a Scammel Contractor lorry. Rebecca felt very odd as she watched her tender get added to a second trailer moments later, seeing just how different it looked for the first time.

“Where am I going now?” she asked the foreman. “S. J. Edwards’ main plant,” replied the foreman briskly. “You’ll be their shining mascot… or something like that.” He turned away to signal that Rebecca was chained down and ready to move, even as Rebecca began to realise just what the foreman had said.

She was to be a mascot. Mascots didn’t move, they didn’t haul around presents. They sat still and smiled even as the years wore down on them. She’d seen it from an old tank that had been the mascot of a town until he was so rusted and tired that he had to be taken away and placed in a specialist museum to be restored.

Or maybe that had been a lie, and he’d also been scrapped.

Rebecca travelled far on the roads, through towns she’d once served that now had only diesels, if any railway at all. How had she been so blind to everything changing? How had she managed to miss each event as it happened?

The truck turned again; Rebecca felt something shift under her. The roads were so uncomfortable, and yet it was the only way to the factory now. There was no railway out to the S. J. Edwards main facility anymore, because British Railways didn’t think it important.

There were no more steam engines safe from scrap because British Railways didn’t think they were important.

The truck slowed to a stop, and a crane rumbled up. Rebecca looked over – the building was certainly fancy, and right inside the front entrance there stood a plinth. It was empty but for a pair of rails set into the concrete.

That… that was her new home, wasn’t it?

Rebecca was carefully pushed inside, moved on temporary rails up to the plinth before her brakes were locked on, chocks were forced under her wheels and the temporary rails were ripped up. Her glorious golden paintwork was starkly contrasted by the tears falling from her eyes.

“Stop crying and smile, idiot!” snarled a man in a pinstriped suit. “You’re meant to be a mascot, not a sob story. What child wants to see a blubbering mess when they come visit?” The man rapped his cane against Rebecca’s buffers. It didn’t hurt, but it was enough to silence the stunned engine.

Rebecca looked up – above her stood a large dome from which great white lights hung to illuminate everything far too brightly. It was nothing like the golden rays of sun Rebecca so loved to feel on her boiler. These lights weren’t warm, they were cold and unforgiving.

And at night, they were abruptly shut off, plunging Rebecca into the dark with only her own thoughts and her tears.

And even today, one has to wonder if Rebecca will ever feel the sun again? 

Back to the Master Post

[quinloki]

Ik you said it's unlikely to figure out Marco is a yandere but... I keep thinking abt somehow picking up on it and running off anyway. The paranoia, always looking over your shoulder, never staying in one place for too long, but of course he catches up. You're sleeping in a small inn when he finds you, quietly slinking into your room. He preemptively puts the little "do not disturb" sign on the door handle before closing and locking it behind him. When you wake up, it's to a large, warm hand gently but firmly pressing against your back as he lines himself up.

….

I just.

….

/sits down/

Look.

I -

Fuck.

Maybe it’s Ace, or him and Izou and Thatch. They just really like you, and much as they love their brother, they know, right? If they didn’t care about you they’d maybe be able to look away, but you need to know.

So they tell you about his obsession. How deep it runs. How absolute it is. How it’s okay if you stay, but you should know.

Once you know, you can see it. That madness behind his easy expression, the obsession burning in his eyes.

The others help you, you wouldn’t have cleared the ship otherwise and you know it. You have money enough, but your sparse with it, camping mostly at first until days and weeks turn into months.

Until you start risking day jobs and off work here and there at different islands. Just a wandering jack of all trades, nothing exciting.

When you wake to the hand at your back you had been dreaming sweetly. Of the Marco you thought you knew and of the life you could have had. Maybe it’s his name moaned from your lips that changes his plans.

Instead of binding you and dragging you back, he decides to claim you first. While you’re wet, and needy, and able to take him easier.

Your groggy mind needs a moment to realize this isn’t the gentle and kind man of your dreams.

“You’re mine,” he declares, eyes bright with a myriad of emotions, but obsession primary among them. He pushes in slowly, carefully, fingers reaching around and teasing your clit as he leans down over you, the hand at your back shifting up and pressing you down from between your shoulder blades.

“Say it, pretty bird.” His voice is deathly calm, leaving cold knots in the pit of your stomach.”

“Say you’re mine, yoi.”

“I…” a whimper takes over as he hilts inside you, the sweet pleasure nearly cruel in your fearful state. “I’m yours.”

“Good little bird.” He hums, moving slowly in and out, fingers teasing your clit. “I know why you ran, and I forgive you as long as you don’t do it again.” He presses heavy against you, lips against your shoulders before he nips at your ear.

“You won’t do it again, right my sweet little song bird?”

Tears slip down your cheeks as vivid images of being legless and caged flash across your vision. “I won’t, I won’t. I w-won’t,” you gasp as he shifts a little, sending sparks of pleasure through you in that deft way he’s always known. “Luh-leave you, eh-ever again, I swear, I swear!”

“I believe you, yoi.” His words drip with doubt, but you’re too mired in the pleasure he’s forcing upon you to argue. “Make sure I have no reason to doubt you, pretty bird.”

“You won’t, ahh-mmm-fuck, you won’t!” You cry, your reassurances turning into babbled sounds of pleasure as you came hard against him.

Marco’s teeth skin into your skin as he fills your throbbing cunt. By the time he’s done you have half a dozen heavy bite marks sunk into you, bruising kisses mottling your skin, and cum leaking from your pussy.

He’d forced orgasm after orgasm from you, not giving you time to recover between, not slowing when you cried from the painful exertion. Flames flickered against you, soothing overworked muscles just enough to push you into another orgasm, never enough to fully ease the ache.

Now he’s kissing every mark he’s stained onto your skin, gentle fingers easing the ache in your body. Exhaustion overtakes you in the midst of his tender care, and even as you sink into a deep sleep you’re certain when you wake you’ll be back on the ship.

[gravehags]

every day is halloween

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: reader and Copia have become good friends, sexual tension, romantic tension, Halloween party, Terzo is back on his matchmaking bullshit, slight Terzomega

Words: 2,156

Summary: Halloween always was your favorite holiday.

a/n: Desperately wanted Copia in a Halloween costume so here we are. If you know who either Copia or reader is dressed as I'm giving you a big wet kiss with tongue.

divider by @gothdaddyissues!

“So what are you going to be for the big Halloween party?”

You’ve got your feet up on your coffee table, currently watching Copia poorly guide Lara Croft through a jungle temple. When you found out he likes video games just as much as you do - albeit his games are a little older - you invited him to your quarters every Friday for a game night. These nights usually consisted of the two of you drinking wine and taking turns with your PS5 controller, all the while casually venting about your respective weeks. Lara runs directly off a cliff and you snort as Copia throws his hands up in defeat, tossing the controller onto the couch.

“Eh…it’s a secret,” the tips of his ears are red and a slow grin settles on your face.

“Ooooh,” you tease, adjusting yourself on the cushion so your legs are tucked under you. “Alright fine, I’m not telling you mine either. But it’s so good. You’ll never guess.”

Copia’s mustache twitches in amusement.

“Hmm…give me a hint, cara. Per favore.”

You’re momentarily distracted by the endearment - you still haven’t quite gotten used to hearing that sort of thing from him since Terzo’s party and it enchants you every time - but then your face settles into a pout.

“Now why would I do that?”

“Eh…because we are amici. And I am a terrible guesser.”

You make sure to put extra drama into your eye roll but answer him all the same.

“Fine. ONE hint. It’s a historical figure.”

When he reaches a gloved hand up to stroke his mustache thoughtfully you can’t help but sigh a little. Where did he get off being so damn cute?

“Is it–”

“Don’t guess now,” you say, slapping his arm lightly. “You can ponder it over the next few weeks. Now come on, pick that controller up, Lara has some tombs to raid.”

Grabbing it, he passes it to you.

“Your turn, dolcezza,” he says with a tired look. “It has been far too long a week and I would much rather watch you play.”

Shrugging, you lean over and set your wine glass down on the table and accept the controller from his hand.

“Watch and learn, dear Cardinal,” you smirk as you unpause the game.

He spends the remainder of the evening with his eyes on you and not the screen.

—-

“Progress on your costume coming along?” you ask, bent over with your arms on Copia’s desk. When you see his cheeks redden at the sight of you you realize your compromising position and straighten with a blush of your own.

“Eh…” he begins and clears his throat, fidgeting with the cuffs of his cassock. “Sì. Very well, I think I have all the necessary parts.”

You roll up on your tiptoes with a thoughtful expression. “Me too. Gotta say you’ve got me very intrigued, Copia.”

“D-do I?” he asks, leaning back in his chair trying his best to look casual. He’s chewing on his bottom lip and he reaches up to straighten his biretta.

“Mmhmm. Two weeks and we’ll see who can guess who is who,” you say, rolling back onto the flat of your feet and crossing your arms.

“Ah…is this a challenge now, cara?”

You fix Copia with a positively angelic look and cant your hip, not missing the way his mismatched eyes slide over your form. When he smirks up at you, your knees nearly buckle.

“Well then, signorina, if I can guess who you are or you can guess who I am…then what?”

“You get…a favor.”

“Oh?” He’s stroking his mustache again and this time you have to take a seat because your knees really do wobble.

“Yep, one favor. Redeemable anywhere, anytime.”

“For anything?” the tone of his voice lowers, darkens, and it takes you by surprise. Suddenly you remember that delicious little dream you had where he–

Ahem.

Focus.

“Sure,” you say lightly, ignoring the implications of such a broad demand. “And if I guess correctly, I get a favor of my own.”

“What if we both guess correctly?”

“Well,” you say, studying your cuticles, “the favors could cancel each other out. Or we just both have favors from one another.”

“Sì, the second option,” he says quickly, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. 

“Got something in mind?” you ask with a wry grin, wiggling your eyebrows a little. His eyes narrow and he exhales through his nose.

“Perhaps,” he practically purrs, and you have to force yourself to school your face into a neutral expression. Flustered, you rise from your chair and meander towards his office door. When your hand is on the knob you turn to face him again.

“It’s a bet, then?”

He nods solemnly, but you don’t miss the lascivious grin that plays around his painted lips.

Game on.

—

You’ve finally finished lacing yourself into the decadent black and red gown you purchased and regard yourself in your bedroom mirror. Seventeenth-century looks good on you, with the shape of the stays you wear and the way they heave your breasts up. Reaching backwards towards your bed, you grab the belt you made with small potion bottles and tie it around your waist. Last thing is an elaborate pearl necklace - the icing on the cake. When you���ve completed your look you give a little twirl in place and grin. Copia won’t know what hit him. Walking out of your room you grab your keys and phone and slip them into the discreet pocket inside your dress before heading out of your quarters.

The Ministry Halloween party, you’ve been told, is quite a sight. Terzo described it to you once at the beginning of September as the most lively celebration of the year. You are quite looking forward to seeing the costumes the siblings have adorned themselves with and your little heels tap insistently on the stone floor as you pick up your pace. Approaching the celebration hall you hear an intense muffled din coming through the large wooden doors. Taking a deep breath, you heave the doors open and your jaw drops. There must be hundreds of people in the room, wearing every costume you could possibly imagine. One wall is lined with a long table filled with decadent foods and beverages. Music plays, but is ultimately drowned out by the boisterous noise coming from the crowd that you find yourself navigating. Several siblings smile at you as you pass - just now finally warming up to you - and you’re relieved when you spot Terzo. He’s decked out in head-to-toe black with a cape and a mask over his eyes, a jaunty hat perched on his dark hair.

“Zorro?” you ask with a smile and he beams back at you. 

“Do I not look very dashing?” he crows, striking a pose. One of his ghouls emerges from behind you carrying a glass of punch - Omega, you think? - who is wearing his usual mask and short cassock. On his head is a headband with a gold halo attached and when you laugh out loud, you like to think he’s smiling at you from behind the mask. The ghouls and their function were still a mystery to you but you appreciated their stoic presence around the abbey. Terzo accepts the punch from Omega and cozies up to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Don’t you look delicious tonight, bella,” he purrs in your ear. “Beautiful view,” he says, his eyes lingering on the abundant cleavage your gown produces.

When you roll your eyes and elbow him sharply in the side, you swear you hear the tall ghoul chuckle.

“I assume,” Terzo coughs after collecting himself, “that you are looking for your amato cardinale?”

You open your mouth to both protest and respond when you see Copia cutting through the crowd. He looks incredible. As he approaches your trio you gape at his outfit, having never seen him in anything but his standard cassock before. He’s wearing a tuxedo with a black bowtie and a red cummerbund. On his shoulders is a black cape lined with red satin. His mustache is waxed and hair impeccable, and you notice he’s added some grey at the temples to enhance his natural coloring.

Now it’s Terzo’s turn to elbow you. But there’s no need - Copia is similarly enraptured with your appearance, eyes dancing over the details of your gown and as Terzo did, gazing at the swell of your breasts. 

“Bellissima,” Copia breathes and Terzo regards the two of you with something akin to pride.

“Omega,” he says airily, “let us fetch some drinks.”

You barely register Terzo and his ghoul leaving the two of you alone. It’s as if all of a sudden the raucous din from the party around you has quieted as the two of you behold each other. Finally coming to your senses you shake your head and give Copia a wide smile.

“Look at you,” you say, giving him an exaggerated once-over, “aren’t you something?”

“Me?” Copia replies hoarsely, adjusting his tuxedo jacket, “Cara, you.”

You give a little “who me?” wave of your hand, but the violent blush on your cheeks gives away your true feelings.

“Well?” you ask, giving a little twirl, “who am I?”

Copia’s mouth finally closes as he remembers the bet the two of you have created. He puts his gloved hand to his chin and considers.

“Eh…is the costume historically accurate?”

You put on a faux-offended look. “Just who do you think you’re talking to?”

He gives you a sheepish smile and waves his hand at you.

“Hmm…” he studies you intently and you look to the ground in an effort to avoid his gaze.

“You get three guesses,” you murmur. You’re feeling generous tonight, and you’d be lying if you said a part of you didn’t want him to win.

“Artemisia Gentileschi,” he says firmly.

“Ooh, not a bad guess!” you’re impressed by him that’s for sure. “But no, not Artemisia.”

“Ah shit,” he sighs. “But the right era, sì?”

You nod.

He considers you for another silent moment before making a noise of exclamation.

“Julie d’Aubigny!” he says, looking smug. Once again you have to hand it to him for his knowledge of deep historical cuts.

“I appreciate that you acknowledge me as a bisexual icon but nope. I have no sword!”

Copia swears loudly and puts his hands on his hips. Idly, you run your fingers over the potion bottles on your belt. He’s silent for almost three whole minutes before a slow grin spreads on his face.

“Giulia Tofana,” he says, fully sure of himself this time. You grin back at him, giggle erupting from your throat.

“Bingo,” you say, poking him lightly in the chest. “Not too shabby, Cardinal, I’m very impressed.”

He looks like he wants to strut around like a proud rooster and you love the confident air he’s adorned himself with. When he’s finished preening about his victory, he holds up his hands.

“Your turn, cara.”

When you step forward into his space his eyes widen and his breathing becomes more rapid as you stalk around him in a circle.

“I think,” you say as you round his shoulder, “I deserve a hint. I gave you one a month ago and it’s only fair.”

“We’ve discussed him before,” he says simply, adjusting his gloves. Your lips curl upwards.

“Well as I have said before you look an awful lot like Vincent Price. And there’s something so familiar about this get-up, I know I’ve seen it somewhere…”

Copia says nothing but his mustache twitches in an effort not to smile. You open your mouth to tease him and then it hits you like a truck.

“Oh. My God.” you laugh. “No way!”

He’s giggling with you now, knowing full well you’ve deduced his outfit.

“You did not come to this party dressed as Vincent Van Ghoul!” you squeal and he lets out a deep laugh.

“Molto bene, Signora Tofana,” he says, slowly clapping his hands together. You give him a little curtsy just as Terzo and Omega approach you again, bearing several cups of punch.

“For you,” Terzo thrusts a glass of ominous red liquid into your hand before handing another to Copia. You smile fondly at him over the rim of your glass and Terzo gives you a little wink.

“Saluti!” he half-shouts, raising his glass. “To bets! To Sathanas! To love!”

Avoiding all eyes, you clink your glass against the other three and take a deep drink. You don’t know what is in this stuff but you suspect it’s whatever Terzo made you take a shot of at that party. It makes your throat burn and your belly warm.

“Happy Halloween,” you say softly, eyes meeting Copia’s once more.

“Happy Halloween, cara mia,” he says, just as quietly.

You don’t see Terzo looking up at Omega knowingly before pressing a kiss to the side of his mask.

[skeletorrito]

new satosugu fluff snippet !!! I love these dorks as goofy teens haha

“It’s already your birthday next week, Satoru. What are you hoping to get?”

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto lounged in Suguru’s dorm, snacking on the dango that Satoru brought over to him. Suguru preferred to hang out in his room, rather than his teammate’s, because he didn’t have to watch his step tiptoeing over wrappers and cans on the floor. Even in their third year, Satoru still struggled to clean his own room after years and years of maids constantly picking up after him. Suguru tried to help, but Satoru was still a messy brat all the same.

Satoru chewed as he considered the question. “Honestly…” he swallowed. “I just wanna make out with somebody.” It was the only thing that came to mind and he just… blurted it out. He blushed as soon as it left his lips, shutting them tight in a weird smile. He could have just made up anything, literally anything other normal birthday gift, but realistically what else could he possibly need or want that he didn’t already have? 

“Oh,” Suguru coughed out in a laugh, wide-eyed with a shocked look on his face. That definitely wasn’t the answer he expected. 

There was a long pause followed by awkward laughter. Both boys flushed, gazes diverting anywhere but each other. 

“Do you… have someone in mind?” Suguru asked, attempting to hide the curiosity and desperation in his voice.  

“Yeah but…” Satoru started, scratching the back of his neck. Seriously, why couldn’t he just keep his big mouth shut?! It didn’t help that Suguru could sometimes, somehow with his social superpowers, tell when he was lying. “I’m not telling. You’ll have to guess.” 

Suguru put his hand to his chin. This was… new. They’d chatted about girls in passing, sharing photos and giggling, but never seriously. They didn’t have much time for that with missions and school, especially not in their third year. “Oh. I know. Mei Mei.”

Satoru snorted, replying, “Eh, she’s hot, but she’s not really my type.” 

Seriously, shut the fuck up.

This piqued Suguru’s interest. He smirked a little deviously, leaning in. “Oh? Satoru Gojo has a type?” He asked, pulling another dango off the stick with his teeth. 

You. You’re my type. 

“Oh you know…” Satoru trailed off for a moment, trying to figure out how to be as vague as possible with this answer. “Dark hair, dark eyes, skinny waist…” 

Satoru was really burying himself in a hole with this one. 

He flushed brightly, biting the inside of his cheek. He devoured the last dango stick in one bite, lest he expose himself anymore.

Suguru’s hopes were slightly dashed at that last part. Surely, Satoru was referring to a woman with that skinny waist comment. He checked all the boxes for sure, but… was being a man with a small waist even considered attractive? Was Satoru even interested in men? 

Would he even be interested in me in… that way?

“Hmm… Utahime?” 

Satoru pretended to vomit with that guess. “Ew, as if. She’s annoying.”

Suguru continued to mull it over when Satoru interjected quickly, “Ah, it’s stupid, just a joke anyway, really, forget about it. Let’s all go out to eat on my birthday, I’d never say no to some good food.”  

They dropped the subject and started discussing dinner plans for next Saturday, but Suguru couldn’t help but continue wondering. 

Who did Satoru want to kiss? 

Was it me? Could it ever be me?

No, that was crazy. That was a pipe dream. 

They were best friends. Best friends didn’t kiss, and making out was way out of the question. Maybe best friends played with each other’s hair or held hands sometimes, but a kiss? A kiss was taking it too far. 

A kiss would mean they were so much more than best friends. 

Read the rest here: