#i went through an awful rejection a whole back

[marge-blainey]

I'm

BAcK

#ooc #sorry #i went through an awful rejection a whole back #and wow #get this #he asked me out #now we're dating #this is a win for the bisexuals

[sprinkler-ashes]

the great war // aaron hotchner x reader

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

words: 5.5k

description: in which aaron hotchner thinks you’re hot-headed. inspired by the great war by taylor swift.

warnings: angst w/ a happy ending, one (1) steamy car makeout, cursing, typical cm violence depictions

a/n: long time no see, and i’m sorry about that. to make a long story short, summer was very awful on me; i had a breakup and am now back in school + drowning in work. I love this fic so much; it’s probably my favorite i’ve ever written and i hope you love it too <3 also!!! if you have a request for a fic to a song, please send it my way! taylor swift is my go-to, but i am open to any song request <3

you drew up some good faith treaties

i drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

you said i have to trust more freely

but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

You should have known better than to date someone you worked with. No, actually, you should have known better than to date, of all people, your boss.

Date was a loose term.

You weren’t really sure when the lines between co-workers blurred into friendship and when friendship blossomed into early morning coffee dates and late evenings in the office together doing paperwork, and even later nights spent at dinner tables being hours deep into conversation. You knew it hadn’t happened out of nowhere. This thing between the two of you had been building up for years – years of pining.

There was a voice in the back of your head telling you that it was all too good to be true, but you pushed it back as far as you could. Besides, the two of you hadn’t even called it dating, but it sure did feel like it.

But it hadn’t felt like that in a really long time.

Aaron had put a stop to whatever was going on four months ago. He had given you some bullshit excuse that he was your boss, it was wrong of him to be doing whatever the two of you were doing with his subordinate — blah, blah – but you had stopped listening when your heart became so heavy you thought it was going to physically weigh you down.

You had been through breakups before, even some serious ones, but nothing had ever felt like this. 

You tried to stop him, but he was also a man who had made his mind up; it was impossible to get through to him that you didn’t want to end it.

So you went back to work acting like nothing had happened. And it was about to be the death of you.

However, you were a professional. It’s not like the team even knew about you and Aaron. You acted the same as always when you were at work. No one suspected anything because no one knew what you were going through.

You didn’t talk to Aaron unless you had to. Truthfully, you hadn’t spoken to him for anything that wasn’t work-related since he basically dumped you on a random Wednesday evening for reasons you couldn’t fathom, but that didn’t mean you didn’t try.

In the beginning, you tried reaching out. You called, you texted him a couple of times, and you had even been so desperate one night that you sent him an email. Each time, you were met with rejection, and him saying something along the lines that both of you should just forget about everything.

So you did by cutting all contact. You thought to yourself, I’ll show him, but it really did nothing. If it bothered him, he never showed it.

It seemed like nothing bothered him until now. A whole whopping four months later.

“Not only did you blow our cover, but you walked into a hostage situation with no weapon to defend yourself; you didn’t even strap a vest on. You are lucky that no one died or was seriously injured.” Aaron wasn’t yelling – he was actually just slightly an octave below yelling – but it sure as hell sounded like he was screaming because his voice had never been like this towards you.

You frowned, not liking the way he was calling you out in front of everyone – in front of a group of people that you greatly admired and respected. “What else was I supposed to do, Hotch? If I hadn’t gone in there, that woman would have died. I was trying to save her life.”

“Save her life?” he asked incredulously. “From the moment you burst through those doors, you put her in even more danger than she was already in. Not only could she have died, but you also could have.”

“Why are you giving me so much shit over this?” you asked, throwing your hands up in anger, not paying attention to the awkward glances your team was giving each other. “I’m not the only one who's done this, and I won’t be the last. I don’t care to risk my life trying to save someone else. I’m sorry that I blew everyone’s cover, but I won’t apologize for saving her.”

Aaron shook his head, his demeanor that was normally unreadable was completely gone. “You’re on probation, effectively immediately-”

“What? I, Hotch-”

“You will not physically assist in any cases for the next two weeks. You will still travel to cases, but you will work directly from the police department. You will not be allowed to go in the field.”

He kept talking, his mouth moving a mile a minute listing off all the things you were allowed to do and what you couldn’t do, but you couldn’t focus on anything he was saying. You were so tempted to slap your boss across the face and if it wouldn’t have technically been workplace harassment, you probably would have.

“Hotch, we’ve all made mistakes,” Derek Morgan said. “No one ended up hurt tonight. With all due respect, I think a two week probation is a little harsh.”

You wanted to thank Derek for sticking up for you, but you couldn’t form words at that moment. Your feet were on the move faster than you could even think as they took you to the SUV that you’d arrived in, not wanting to hear Aaron talk to Derek about you. All you wanted to do was get on the jet, leave the small Arkansas town you were in, get back to Quantico, and try to stop thinking about Aaron Hotchner.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t as easy as you liked to think.

You rode back to the hotel with Emily and JJ, who had let you sit in the front seat, and didn’t dare look either of them in the eye. Emily tried to make small talk to lighten the mood, but you could barely even think about anything other than your probation and the way that Aaron had talked to you in front of everyone. She eventually took the hint, and the three of you rode back to the hotel in silence.

You finally turned to Emily once the SUV came to a stop. “Do you know if we’re leaving tonight or in the morning?” Normally, if you finished a case late, you always preferred to spend the night in the hotel in order to get some rest, but there was nothing you wanted more than to just go home now.

“Uh, tonight,” Emily said with a grimace. “Sorry, I know you usually hate leaving immediately after.”

You shook your head. “Not this time. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to go home more than I do right now.”

Emily eyed you up and down, taking in your slumped, exhausted body. Her eyes flickered up to the mirror, catching JJ’s eye who was giving an equally worried look. “Do you want to talk-”

“Not right now, Emily,” you interrupted. “I’m going to pack my stuff up. Can you send me a text when it’s time to go?”

Emily looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t, sensing you obviously didn’t want to talk about it right now. “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “See you guys soon.” With that, you were out of the SUV before either of them could unbuckle their seatbelts and on your way to the entrance of the hotel you were staying in along with the rest of the team.

Typically, you shared a room with someone, but luckily for you, it was your turn to get your own this time, which you couldn’t have been more thankful for when you swiped your keycard and finally got to be alone for a minute.

You knew that Emily meant well. She had been one of your closest friends since you had joined the team. You felt a tinge of guilt at how closed off you had been to her in the car when she was just trying to make sure you were okay. However, you really weren’t okay, and you really didn’t want Emily to know the full extent of what was going on.

After hastily packing your things and grabbing a quick shower, you received a text from Emily that it was time to go. On your way down to the lobby to meet her, it was finally setting in that you were, quite literally, exhausted. You’d been awake since before daylight and a quick glance at the time shining on your phone reminded you that you had been awake for nearly seventeen hours.

You rode with Emily, JJ, and Rossi to board the jet, but ended up napping the entire short duration of the drive. Truthfully, you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until Rossi had nudged you awake.

When you were finally in the air, you allowed yourself to catch a glance at your infuriating boss who was still, as usual, in his suit with his tie and jacket discarded, writing in a file.

Probably writing me up, you bitterly thought to yourself. You knew you had done a not-very-smart thing, but by the time you figured out that the original plan the team came up with wasn’t going to work, it was too late. If you hadn’t darted through the door and startled the unsub, the poor woman who was taken hostage was going to meet a very similar fate that four other women faced.

You could admit that it was a rash, last minute decision, but you didn’t regret it. You saved a woman’s life and helped capture an awful man who would have never stopped if not caught. It felt like Aaron was punishing you for something that wasn’t the decision you made tonight. Two weeks on probation felt a little extreme to you.

Twenty minutes into the flight, Derek, Rossi, and JJ were already asleep while Emily looked like she was close to following. Spencer was nursing what you thought was his second coffee in the short time on the jet, a pair of headphones in as he watched something on the tablet he had propped up.

That left only you and Aaron sitting in silence.

This had been a particularly hard case that had to be solved in under seventy-two hours in order to prevent any more victims since you, with the help of Spencer, figured out that the unsub operated on stalking and kidnapping his victims on a specific schedule. Hardly anyone had gotten much sleep in an attempt to solve the case as soon as possible – hence why nearly everyone was asleep.

Aaron finally spoke after nearly fifty minutes into the flight from his seat in front of you after Emily and Spencer had finally drifted off, though you weren’t sure how Spencer was even sleeping considering he had downed two coffees. “You should get some rest.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you said bitterly, keeping your eyes straight ahead. “I’ll be getting lots of rest in the next two weeks considering I can’t really do anything else on probation, so thanks, but I’m good.” The words were tumbling out before you could even comprehend what you’d said. In a normal situation, you’d be worried that speaking to your boss like that would result in its own consequences but considering you were already on probation, what was the harm?

He said nothing.

—

It was nine days into what felt like the most excruciatingly long probation known to man, and you still had five more days to go.

You had just gotten back from a case in Maine where you, unfortunately, barely got to do anything other than help out at the police station. In addition, you had to finish several online modules assigned to you by Strauss on safety in the field, which was, in your opinion, ridiculous considering you had been at the BAU for a good amount of time – long enough to know all about safety in the field.

“I think I’ve gone past the point of exhaustion,” Emily said as you came off the elevator as she stifled a yawn. “Is that a real thing?”

“Yes, my beautiful friend who I am so happy to see. That means you need to get home and rest.”

Penelope Garcia was there to greet you at the elevator, a warm smile lighting up her face as she gave Emily a hug then turned to you. “How are you doing?”

“I’ll be fine in five days when this stupid probation is over,” you told Penelope, watching her give you a sympathetic smile.

“I’m heading out, but you have my number if you need me,” she told you with a comforting pat to your arm. “Goodnight ladies.”

Penelope was on the elevator to leave as you and Emily, after waving off Penelope, filed off to your desks to pack up to go back to your apartments.

“Got a hot date tonight?” Emily asked jokingly.

You laughed and shook your head. “Haven’t had a hot date in a long time. What about you?”

It was true. The last date you had been on was four months ago with the man who also happened to be your boss and who also happened to be your number one enemy right now.

“Just with Sergio.”

You and Emily were already on your way out to leave for the night officially until you stopped in your tracks when you reached the elevator. “Ugh, I just realized I left my phone charger at my desk. You can go on without me.”

“You sure? I don’t mind waiting,” she said as she stepped into the elevator.

You nodded. “Go on; it’s late. Have a good night, Emily.”

A huff left your mouth as you turned back on your heel to walk back to your desk. Your hands grasped the charger laying under several files that you (probably) needed to look at, but tonight was not the night for that.

However, you realized it was definitely not your night at all when you tried to turn your car on, only to be met with a sound of spluttering.

“Not tonight,” you groaned, repeatedly trying to turn your key to start the engine, but the car never started, much to your luck. “Are you serious right now?”

Your car was by no means brand new, but it was a good car and not often did it give you problems. Except for tonight. Or in other words, the one night you desperately wanted to go home, take a shower, and go to bed.

You weren’t really sure of your options. You could probably call Emily. She couldn’t have gotten too far down the road. Maybe she could give you a ride since her apartment was on the way to your place. Another option was calling an Uber, but –

Your car door opening knocked you out of your train of thought. Your brain immediately went into fight-or-flight, and you chose fight as your hands instinctively reached for the pepper spray on your key ring.

“Hey! It’s just me.”

It was Aaron with his hands outstretched into a surrender position, his suit jacket hanging from the crease where his arm bent. “Why are you sitting in the parking lot in the dark with your car unlocked? Do you know how easy it would be for someone to-”

“Come up and kidnap me? Yeah, I learned all about it in my online safety training this past week as if I didn’t already know,” you sassed with an eye roll. “I think my battery is dead. I usually keep jumper cables in here, but I cleaned my car out last week and must have taken them out. I’m probably going to have to call an Uber.”

You didn’t know why you were telling him all of this. The small voice in the back of your head knew why, but you weren’t willingly to actively think about it. You had enough on your plate right now.

“I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Like hell you will,” you told him.

“You do know I’m your boss, and you technically can’t speak to me like that?”

“You won’t fire me. You'll just put me on probation.”

He paused, his eyes closing momentarily before opening them again and going back to his stoic demeanor as usual. “Let me drive you home, so I will know that you got home safely. Please.”

You wanted to say no, but it was late and getting a ride home from Aaron meant that you didn’t have to bother Emily or lose money on an Uber. The only thing you’d be losing, in your opinion, was what little dignity you had left when it came to Aaron.

It’s just a ride home, you told yourself in your head.

“Fine.” You had admitted defeat. “Give me a second.”

He turned his back to you and started to walk away from your car. When you knew for sure he couldn’t see you, you positioned the rearview mirror so you could see yourself in it. Before you could stop yourself, you attempted to fix your hair as nicely as possible and then took a moment to stop what you were doing. You scoffed at yourself and shook your head.

“What is wrong with me?” You asked yourself aloud. “He doesn’t care. Neither do you.”

However, after you grabbed your things, you did sneak one more look in the mirror before getting out of your car and locking it. You were glad when you took another look to see Aaron not looking in your direction. 

 You made your way over to Aaron’s signature parking spot, the same one he parked in every morning, and met him there, his hands typing something out on his phone until he noticed your presence.

Without missing a beat, he opened the passenger door for you. You wanted to tell your heart to stop when that familiar flutter came back like it used to all those months ago. You opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could say anything.

“No need for a remark. I’m just opening the door for you.”

“I was going to say thanks.”

A ghost of a smile danced across his face as he shut the door. It was so quick if you weren’t paying attention then you wouldn’t have seen it.

Your eyes adjusted to the interior of Aaron’s car, déjà vu hitting you from the first time you were ever in his car. But you forced those thoughts back down with a grimace and a reminder of how that ended the first time.

With one hand gripping the wheel and the other holding onto the back of your seat as his torso turned, eyes watching behind as he backed out, you thought you were going to throw up. Not because you were sick, but because Aaron was so damn attractive in doing the simplest things like backing up a car.

“You can turn on the radio if you want,” Aaron told you. “Your cord is still in here.”

You bit your lip, eyes locking onto the green cord still plugged in. “I’ve been looking for that everywhere. I had to buy a new one for my car.”

Back when you were frequently with Aaron, and he was typically the designated driver when you went places, you often complained about the lack of music in his car. He only listened to whatever was on the radio. He had no CDs nor did he have an AUX cord, claiming something about never being in his personal car long enough to deal with music in it.

After that day, you put your AUX cord in his car the next time you were in it and controlled the music, often giving him a performance to your favorite songs in the car as he drove. Aaron never complained like a lot of guys would. Instead, he would watch you belt a heartbreak ballad with an amused smile.

But that was months ago. And things were much different now.

“I would’ve given it back to you, but it’s slipped my mind. Feel free to take it with you.”

The happy memories that the AUX cord brought back were pushed to the back of your head again at his words. He told you to take it because there was no point in it anymore. You two were done.

You didn’t plug the cord into your phone. You didn’t play a song. You sat in the terrible silence, wishing it wasn’t silent like before, but it was silent, and Aaron was acting like nothing was wrong. 

Another awkward moment passed as he kept driving, the route to where you lived engraved as he had driven there many times. Aaron didn’t have to ask you where you lived because he knew. He knew from all the late nights he dropped you back off. The thought of all the previous times you’d been on this exact same drive under different circumstances made your head hurt.

“Why did you put me on probation?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

“You know why I put you on probation. You comprised the safety of yourself, the team, and-”

“I compromised the safety of myself, the team, and the victim, yes, I know, but you put me on a two week probation when I can name off countless times that others on the team have done worse and didn’t get put on a two-week probation,” you argued back. “I know I messed up, but at the end of the day, it feels like you’re punishing me for something.”

He nodded, his eyes staying trained on the road. “I am punishing you for something, and that something is compromising-”

“I swear if you say compromise one more time-”

“Compromising your safety and the safety of others.”

You didn't say anything. Your arms were crossed as you looked out the window and into the dark as objects moved past you, reaching closer to your destination.

Aaron spoke your name, but you didn’t want to look at him.

“What?”

“Look at me,” he said as the car came to a stop at a redlight.

You reluctantly looked over, not prepared to see him already looking at you. You swallowed, trying to keep your gaze on him.

“I’d rather you be angry with me than even thinking about the possibility of you getting hurt.”

You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to because he kept going.

“When I saw you run into that warehouse, it was one of the only times in my life that I have been so scared that I couldn’t think straight. I put you on probation because you did something reckless. All of us outside thought we lost you when we heard the gunshots. I know you and a few others thought probation was too harsh, but it’s important for you to know that if you’re going to storm a hostage situation, you have to communicate with us. The team cannot lose you,” Aaron told you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t lose you. Understood?”

You were pretty sure that at this point your voice was gone. You simply nodded.

The light turned green, and Aaron started driving again, his eyes finally breaking contact. “Finish out your probation next week and then put it behind you.”

There were no more words spoken. It was silent. You didn’t know how to respond to anything he had just said to you.

Except you did have one question. You weren’t even sure if you wanted the answer to it.

“If you can’t lose me,” you started, fiddling with the sleeve of your top, “then why did you end things?”

“It was for the best,” Aaron said, breaking your heart all over again. “I’m your boss-”

“You being my boss didn’t seem to be a problem when your mouth was on mine every time you dropped me off from dinner.”

He didn’t seem to have an answer for that. You sat smugly in your seat waiting for him to say something.

“You want the truth?”

“I’ve only been asking you for the truth for four months now,” you shot back.

“I fell in love with you.”

Aaron said it so casually that you had to do a double take, your mouth slightly opening. Out of all the things he could’ve said, you did not in a million years think that would be it. Your heart was pounding, and there was a moment where you thought that you had imagined him saying that he fell in love with you, but he really did say it.

He continued. “I thought it was best to end what was going on between us because things would’ve only escalated, and I didn’t want people to think negatively about you. You’re a strong woman in a male-dominated field. You’ve worked hard to get to where you are. You should be taken seriously and unfortunately, going out with your boss doesn’t look good on paper. I hurt you, and I’m truly sorry for that.”

You hadn’t even realized it when Aaron had finally pulled up to the huge parking lot of your apartment building, which was surprisingly vacant for a Thursday night. The words he’d said were dancing around in your head. You hadn’t done anything wrong. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Even after everything, all you really wanted was him.

“Aaron,” you said as you turned to him when he put the car in park, “I mean this with all due respect, but that’s not just your decision to make. I should get a say. I wish you had told me because for the last four months I’ve been going crazy with overthinking. That’s why it hurt so much when you put me on probation. I thought you were punishing me for something between us. Please don’t shut me out because I’m in love with you, and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about what people say about me.”

“But people will talk about you-”

“So?”

“And there’s also Strauss-”

“Who we can deal with. I’m not afraid of Erin Strauss,” you cut him off again.

He raised his eyes before you spoke again. “Okay, maybe I’m slightly afraid of her, but that doesn’t change anything. You don’t choose who you fall in love with. If people want to talk about me for being in love, then let them. I just want to be with you, so please stop trying to protect me. I can handle anything.”

“Okay,” Aaron said after a minute. “Okay. If you want to do this, there is a lot to discuss work-wise.”

“That’s fine. I have a lot of time to discuss things. I’m on probation.” 

Every other time you had brought up your probation, it had been with anger, but this time, there was only a grin on your face. Even though you were still mad about that damn probation, which was another conversation for another time, you figured you might as well make a joke out of it.

Aaron couldn’t keep a straight face. “Yes, you are for five more days. You still have one more module on safety in the field to complete.”

“Screw you,” you said half-jokingly.

“You wish,” he shot right back.

“You’re damn right I do.”

It was as if there was a shift in the air. You’d spent four months without him and in that moment you had decided you never really wanted to go another second without him. There was still a lot to talk about between the two of you, but for now, all you really wanted to do was kiss him.

Even when the two of you were “seeing” each other, or whatever it was, there wasn’t much physical affection. Aaron always kissed you before dropping you off at night, but it was always short, sweet, and simple. Tonight, you didn’t want short, sweet, and simple as your goodbye kiss.

“You should be getting in. It’s late,” he told you, but neither of you made an effort to move. In fact, it felt like you had only gotten closer. You could feel Aaron’s breath fan your face.

You leaned even closer, your face only inches from his. “You gonna tell me goodnight?”

Aaron never replied, only moving to close the small gap between the two of you, his lips pressing against yours in a way that almost felt desperate.

You were the one to take it a step further as your mouth opened wider and one of your hands slid up to rest on his shoulder. Aaron gladly took the hint. His tongue was in your mouth and before you could process it, one hand had moved to cup your face while the other rested on your thigh.

He pulled back for a moment, but only to mess with something under his seat. You gave him a confused look, still breathing heavily. “What are you doing?”

Aaron’s seat had scooted back further to open more room between him and the steering wheel, and you realized what he was doing now. He simply shrugged. “The console is in the way.”

With that, you laughed and maneuvered yourself across the center console that Aaron seemed to hate at the moment. His hands instinctively grabbed your waist in an attempt to help you move over and onto him – literally.

You took in your current situation for a moment. You were straddling Aaron Hotchner in his car in a parking lot. If you had told yourself earlier in the morning that this is where you would be, you would not have believed it.

His lips were back on yours before you could think about anything else, hands still gripping your waist while yours moved to his hair. You were pressed against him, your chest to his, and left no room between the two of you.

“This okay?” He mumbled as his warm hands snaked underneath your shirt, now resting on your bare hips. He pressed a kiss to your jaw while you nodded, a deep breath leaving your mouth. He smiled against your jaw before reattaching his lips again, but this time to your neck.

You couldn’t think of the last time you felt like this. Your body felt like it was literally on fire, and Aaron’s mouth wasn’t doing anything to extinguish that fire – only making it worse.

As much as you loved the hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, you cupped his face, guiding him back up to your lips. Your hands slid to tangle in his hair, earning you a throaty sound from him, which only encouraged you further as you smiled against his lips before going back to kissing him.

Aaron pulled back only a few seconds later, both of you breathing heavily in a hot and flustered state. “As much as I’m enjoying this, we probably shouldn’t get too carried away in here.”

“What? Car sex isn’t on your bucket list?” You joked.

He laughed as you leaned into the hand cupping your face. “You deserve better than a car the first time.”

“So what I’m hearing is car sex after the first time?”

Aaron gave you one of his rare grins, and it lit up your entire world. “You are impossible.”

“I’m just kidding,” you said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I really should be getting in the bed. My boss is making me come in at eight-thirty tomorrow for a meeting.”

“Oh really? He sounds very smart.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and with the help of Aaron, you moved back over to the passenger seat. “I will see you bright and early in the morning.”

“Looking forward to it.”

You gave him one last kiss before gathering your bag and opening the car door. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

“Goodnight,” he told you.

You shut the door and with a smile on your face, waved to him one last time before making your way towards the entrance of your apartment building.

However, before you could get very far, you heard Aaron’s voice calling your name. You turned around to see him with his window down.

“Did I forget something?” You called to him and watched confusedly as he shook his head.

“Your hair looked fine earlier. You didn’t have to fix it just for me.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #i was half asleep when i wrote the second half of this so very sorry for any errors

[uplatterme]

BARBATOS, The First.

MASTERLIST | MORAX | BEELZEBUL

cw: yandere!venti, sub!venti, dom!reader, they/them pronouns, unwanted advances, obsessive behavior, public sex, cock stepping, also a warning for yandere!venti’s overall behavior.

a/n: i had a taglist for this but i lost it LMAO

———

You’ve always noticed how different he acted towards you since the beginning.

The way he sits on your lap playfully, grinding himself without warning and when you ask him what he’s doing, he always pretends to be drunk although you were aware of his schemes.

Or when you’re wearing a skirt and somehow the Monstadt breeze always got stronger, your thighs or more accidentally showing even if you tried to pull it down.

And let’s not forget the time when he intentionally triggered his allergies so you could take care of him while he was “sick”. You didn’t doubt the fact that he was capable of taking care of himself.

You touch the rim of your glass, thinking about him. While it was definitely annoying, it sure did work and got your attention.

“That bard is quite strange, isn’t he?” You asked the bartender in front of you and he takes the empty glass from your hands to give you another fill.

“What’s strange is that he isn’t here chatting your ear off while you drink.” Diluc stated in annoyance. Archon knows how much the bard has actually ended up drunk under the table.

“Perhaps he hasn’t heard that I’ve come back to visit?” You questioned.

“He knows. If he says he doesn’t then he’s obviously lying. That bard knows more than you think.”

“Yet, he’s nowhere to be seen… How peculiar.”

“To think that we have a whole festival offering him flowers and yet he shows such indecent acts says a lot about our city.”

You stop before taking another sip of the alcohol in your hands. “What?”

The redhead stood in awe, realizing he’d made a mistake. “Forget what I said, I thought you knew.”

“Ragnvindr. Are you saying?”

He neither confirmed nor denied it.

You laughed at the new information. It was unbelievable, truly. “But, he’s so tiny? I could cup his face with my palms.”

“Get out. Don’t mention this to anyone.” He ordered.

“Excuse me?”

The next thing you knew, you were outside as Diluc closed earlier from the situation. Well, he was supposed to close earlier but with your pleading he served you a few glasses.

It did make sense, as strange as it sounded. Still, the idea of Venti being the Anemo Archon?

That and the fact that he’s obsessing with you made you want to go home and sleep.

Although, going home was never really an option for a traveler like you.

Should you really pester the Darknight Hero for a room?

You decided against it and went for a midnight stroll instead. There weren’t many hilichurls around due to the Honorary Knight getting rid of them for a quick bag of mora.

The stars were shining as you walked through the land of Mondstadt.

That still didn’t prepare you for the brightness that came along with the Anemo Archon appearing in front of you.

It looked like something out of a drama. A God staring down at a human as he fluttered his wings, creating strong breezes around the two of them.

Fuck. Was this really Venti?

The Anemo Archon presented himself in a form you haven’t seen before. Pure and white wings on his back, with a rather revealing outfit than his usual.

“Well, this is new.” You said.

He tightened his lips as he stared at you like you were his. “I’ve fallen for you, (Name). Why can’t you see that?”

A confession at this hour. One, which you did not appreciate either.

“I’m not looking for anything serious right now, so.” You scratch your head. Alice never wrote a book about rejecting Gods when they confess to you out of nowhere.

Barbatos floated towards you, clasping your hands together. “(Name). You don’t want another city to fall into ruins, do you?”

“Are you threatening me?”

You chuckled. “My, I’ve never thought Barbatos to be such a brat who rattles around if he doesn’t get what he wants.”

His wings quickly fluttered around.

“I’m not!” He yelled. “You don’t get it. Ever since I first saw you, I knew you were different from any other human I’ve met.”

You aggressively pulled him towards you by his braid. “I think you’re the one not understanding, Venti.”

“I’m not accepting a confession from someone who acts like a cheap whore. Surely, you can do better than that.” You scolded and it seemed to be working with how red his face got with each word that you tell him.

…

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You pulled on his hair again, your faces centimeters away from each other. He presented himself to be intimidating when he came over here and yet all you see right now is a puny little god, one who grit his teeth and trying not to let an unwanted noise come out from his throat even if the white shorts he’s wearing is leaving nothing to the imagination, his cock twitching from your words.

“I’m not—” He fumbled over his words, he knew just how enamored he was but he didn’t expect it to this effect.

“It’s not like that…” The red on his cheeks deepened.

“Do you really need to travel to the other regions? Haven’t I made Monstadt the perfect home for you?!”

You never asked for any of those, you wanted to say.

“I’m even offering myself to you. Isn’t that enough?”

There are tears coming out of his eyes and you couldn’t understand whether these were actually his true feelings or he was trying to guilt you into accepting his confession.

Either way, it was working.

The Archon embraced you tightly, pressing his cock against you and humping your thigh like a desperate bitch needy for attention.

He’s sensitive.

Right, someone like him would have been void of this kind of intimacy.

You waited until Venti was flushing heavy, moans signaling that he was close to cumming on you.

Then, you stopped him.

“Ah—Wait!” He mewled pathetically from the ruined orgasm.

“You don’t do things unless I say so, alright?” You warned him, the whole shtick of grinding against you without permission was getting old.

“Lay on the ground, Barbatos.”

Venti hesitated, unsure of how exactly. Eventually, he rested his back on the ground with his hands crossed together. He stared up at you, opposite of how you two were at the beginning of this whole conversation.

If you told him you were a god born in a human’s body, he would believe it.

His back arched as he felt you step on his groin, your shoe aggressively putting pressure on his already sensitive cock.

“Haah–(Name)-” He breathed out.

His wings moved involuntarily while you continued stepping on him. Venti writhed on the ground, moaning your name repeatedly as if it were the only thing he could remember.

“Don’t close your thighs together.”

“C-cant…’m trying.” He complained.

“Hold them for me.”

Venti puts his hands on his knees, spreading his legs open just for you. His trembling fingers barely even did anything more than when they were on the ground.

“I like this outfit on you, should wear it more often to show off how much of a whore you are to your people.”

He wailed in response, drooling at your words.

“Do you like it, Venti? Do you like it when I degrade you less than dirt?” You asked.

He shook his head, muttering ‘no’ over his whimpering.

You pressed down harder and Venti choked on his breathing, coughing in embarrassment.

“You say that…but my shoe is getting cleaned from how soaked you are. Not to mention, your feathers are all over the place.”

“I’m c-close–(Name), please…want to-”

Venti moaned louder, he wasn’t even holding himself back even if he knew that the two of you were in public, that if anyone were to see how he looked now then they would be able to figure out that their dear Barbatos was the one creaming on the ground.

“Admit it first. Maybe, I’ll consider it.”

“Admit–what?”

You removed your shoe away from his cock and were immediately met with pleading. “No, no. Please, (Name),”

“Yes-yes. I like it when you talk to me that way. I like how you ignore me even if I’m bouncing up and down on your lap at Angel’s Share. I love how you treat me like I don’t mean anything to you.” Venti confessed.

“You’re sweet, Venti. You’re such a good boy for me.”

You placed your foot back on him moving around until he was helplessly sobbing from pleasure, cumming while screaming your name out as loud as he could.

Venti panted, his cock continuing to leak out even after he’s done with his orgasm.

You went on your knees, head still above his.

You caressed his wings which lay flat on the ground. “I like this one.”

“What–Hmpf!” He bit his lip in pain as you plucked out one of his feathers.

“I think I’ll keep it. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No–anything for you, of course.” He quickly answered.

“Then, let’s continue.”

Venti’s hole seemed prepared for you already. Still, you inserted two of your fingers inside him and felt his walls around. “Do you finger yourself, Venti? Do you think of me while you get yourself off?”

“Hh–yes.”

You inserted another finger in for his honesty, touching every part of his insides and avoiding his prostate, no matter if tried to plunge himself deeper for it.

“Close your eyes. Tell me exactly what you think.”

You removed your fingers while you listened to every detail he said out loud. “I imagine you placing me on my back and pounding me from how tired you are of me.”

You followed his directions, placing Venti on his back and pushing yourself in without warning. Venti gasped loudly, stopping his story momentarily until he realized that you weren’t going to move unless he continued.

“You pound me rough and deep, filling me up–as–ah!” He faced the ground, eyes still closed. He wouldn’t dare open them.

“You-you.” He tried to focus while feeling you all inside of him, how warm you are, how you hit his spots and how your hand is pushing his back down.

“You let me scream—hh—as l-loud as I can, how you’d love to parade me around like t-this to everyone, that my mouth could do better than tell tales.”

Venti continued to moan, gripping the grass on the ground and unable to hold himself from the pleasure.

“You say that the only time I should open my mouth is when I use it to please you.” He finished.

You grinned, this bard of yours sure let his imaginations run wild.

“And I bet you liked that, didn’t you?”

“Mhm—So, please don’t go anymore, (Name). You can have me a-all you want.” He said from underneath you.

You enveloped his dick in your hands. pushing him to his limit while his prostate was getting abused by your rough and quick movements.

Venti shivered flat on the ground as he came once more, saying your name over and over again.

“So?” The bard asked.

You entered Angel’s Share, desperately wanting a drink after you had ventured from Dragonspine for a quest. Diluc took a single look at you and grunted.

“Ragnvindr, the usual.”

He eyed your side and tutted his tongue.

“To think I was enjoying not seeing the two of you together and now he looks like he’s attached to your hip.” He elaborated.

Venti hugged your arm, snuggling on it as if it were a pillow. “Oh dear bartender, I think you’d find me attached to more than their hip!”

The redhead looked as if he wanted to throw the bard out right now. “I didn’t need to hear that.”

He tilted his head at you. “I’m putting his debt on your tab.”

“I can’t get rid of him, unfortunately, would cry his eyes out if I do.” You replied.

“(Name)? I’m here, you know!” He waved his hands in front of you and you continued to ignore him.

You hoped to yourself that claiming a god as your partner (of sorts) won’t go anywhere more difficult.

#sub venti #venti x reader #venti smut #dom!reader #sub genshin impact #dom reader #sub genshin #sub!venti #genshin impact smut #plattered writings #genshin impact x reader #yandere venti #yandere!venti

[thyrinea]

Till - An Alien Stage analysis

Vivinos just dropped the teaser for Round 6. And after watching it a couple of times, I feel like I can finally understand why people were telling that this round is potentially the most emotional one yet. So here are my thought about Till as a character, and what we might expect from him in the upcoming Round. But before you go on and start reading, I want to make two quick disclaimers:

My native language is not english and sometimes I might make some mistakes, and I'm sorry for that. I'll try to make everything as cohesive as possible on this post so we don't have any miscommunication.

In the analysis, there will be a small mention of suicidal thoughts and a whole section on human experiments. If you're uncomfortable with those topics, please don't continue.

If you're ok with everything, thank you for continuing and I hope you have a good read! (Also, if you want to add something please feel free to chat with me! I love to see more theories and takes on everything)

Let's start this analysis from the very beginning, or at least the first event that we know of in regard of Till: his time at the adoption center.

(Timestamp: 00:22 - 00:24 - Teaser)

From what I gathered, this scene was first seen as a sneak peek from Vivinos' patreon and it's most likely one of, if not the very first time both of them - Till and Ivan - has seen each other. As a "troubled" kid, it's dificult to catch the eyes of someone and make them willing to have you, and seeing the discounts placed on his captivity window, we can only assume that he stayed in the adoption center for quite a while now. It's no wonder that Till is watching with awe as Ivan is being escorted away: he probably got adopted and is leaving the establishment to live somewhere else, leaving the rest only to hope to be the next chosen one. We all know that in reality, being adopted by the aliens is not a synonym to having a good life in this scenario. But for a child who has been locked in this tiny room for possibly weeks, still not knowing how society works for them, it's a dream to finally be able to get out and possibly be loved by their adopted "family". So imagine Till finally getting out of this place, after all he went through there - being rejected, seen as an unwanted individual - only to get trapped in an even worse scenario: Being used as a human experiment.

(Timestamp: 00:06, 00:11, 00:16, 00:19 - Teaser)

We can see those images are depicting something that happened after the adoption center because he's older now. We don't know how much time he had to experience those events, but if we go back to Round 2, there are some instances where he is far younger and can be seen with green stickers similar to the ones on his neck shown in the 4th image. Not only that, even on his performance on Round 2, we can see them on display. So there is a chance that he had to deal with all of this for years. Yes, he was not alone during everything, but we don't know what happened to everyone who was in this same scenario. All we know is that the faces seen on the panel during the teaser, was never once seen again.

(Timestamp: 00:19 - Teaser)

It even seems that one has perished in one of the images shown in the teaser. For all we know, everyone but Till might be dead by the time Alien Stage begins for the main cast... And living in fear not knowing if you're going to be the next one to die during an experiment is a really terrifying reality he probably had to face. And yet, during all that, he even had to go to Anakt garden to train to become a singer, and possibly go to Alien stage.

(Timestamp: 00:57 - Round 2)

At least, somewhere around his time on Anakt garden, he found something worth living for: Mizi. She became his beacon of light. We don't know what happened but knowing Mizi's character, she has probably shown him what happiness looks like, maybe became the first one to interact with him and show him he's someone. Not a product, not an experiment, but an individual. And he really wanted to continue having this feeling again. To be happy, just like her, with her. This admiration that flourished from him is most likely what made this crush Till has for her blossom. It's kind of an unhealthy dependancy if we put the spotlight on this relationship, he would even go as far as refuse to escape from everything with ivan - who is shown to be the only other person who interacts with him, that he considers a friend - and have freedom if she's not present. It's as if he doesn't know if he can truly be happy if she's not around. I'll make another analysis on Ivan and Till's relationship on the kindergarden once Round 6 goes live. Trust me, if I start talking about them here, I would literally not shut up and the analysis would have another 1000 words. But for now I really want to emphasize how both are seen as "weirdos", and started talking more because they really only had each other. Despite the differences and the bickering, Till holds Ivan close to him as well.

(Timestamp: 00:19 - Teaser)

And now, We're on Round 6: Where Till has nothing to fight for. His whole life was purely a tragedy - he had seen and experienced some of the worst things that a human could go through in this world, and despite trying his best to fight against all odds, he's back on square one. He's been defeated. Mizi is missing, and in his eyes, possibly dead. And now he is going against his childhood friend, literally the only person he has left, on a battle where he knows and only one will get out alive. I won't be surprised if in the beginning he'll be willing to sacrifice himself for Ivan to win and live. Through the whole teaser, the voice singing in the background is muffled. Till is so out of it that he's not able to realize what's going on, even the shots he's in is in pure black, as if nothing around him matters anymore to him. That is, until the voice in the end gets clearer and we can finally see the stage for the Round. Can't wait to see what we have in store on April 5th. My theory is that this might be a 2 pov video, and later we'll get to know more about Ivan's take on everything. Specially because finally he might be able to make Till see him for once. Who's going to die? I hope no one. But we're talking about Vivinos... We can expect anything on this project. All I know is that I might die if we get some parallel to the meteor shower scene shown in black sorrow.

#alien stage #alien stage till #alien stage ivan #alien stage mizi #vivinos #I am so normal about Till yall #I might die of anticipation before round 6 airs

[londonfoginacup]

A New Larrie’s Guide to Tumblr

A probably incomprehensible, certainly incomplete list of what you need to know; whether you’re coming from a different platform or discovering Larry for the first time. 

My credentials

Hello! I’m Emmu. I’ve had tumblr since… 2008? Maybe 2009. I moved over from deviantArt and used Tumblr as a personal art blog for many years. I joined the One Direction fandom in 2014, so my 1D blog has 8+ years at this point. That being said, I will get on my soapbox a bit during this. Please excuse me, I’m quite passionate about cultivating a happy and healthy fandom.

What makes Tumblr different

The biggest thing that makes Tumblr, as a site, different from Twitter or Instagram is the rejection of algorithms. The “following” tab on your dashboard is in chronological order (and if it isn’t, you can – and should – change that), and the “for you” tab is both a recent feature and rarely used. Tumblr has very little algorithm, and the algorithm they have isn’t very good. It means that you’ll get the most god awful ads you’ve ever seen on this site, because they don’t utilize your data well. And that’s to your advantage.

Tumblr is a great place because you can curate what you see more than other social media. The people that you choose to follow are the only people that you see on your dash (unless you choose to follow tags, which I guess is an option? @lululawrence says “it is and it used to not do anything unless you went to the search page and then it would like autofill your followed tags options, but NOW they take those followed tags and plop them on your dash... SOMETIMES. usually only on mobile. but if there's only one new post in the tag, it shows you that post OVER. AND OVER. AND OVER AGAIN. IT'S SUPER ANNOYING ACTUALLY. SO I STOPPED FOLLOWING TAGS. lol anyway”).

So, the site is in chronological order. This is its biggest selling point.

There is also the opportunity for long posts. Masterposts. Things that are searchable without having to read through pages of screenshots or condensed twitter threads. You can write a whole lot more without worrying about character limit. People publish whole fics on here (I suggest ao3 for that, but tumblr is technically an option!).

Another important thing to know about tumblr is that the archives on tumblr run deep. There are newer larries here, and a lot of them, but you can also find older larries. People whose 1D blogs go back to 2010 or 2011. You can dive into the archives and read firsthand accounts of what was happening with One Direction or larry at that very time. Doing a bit of research means you find cute fetus pictures of the boys, but also you’re able to figure out for yourself whether something actually happened. Rumors always seem to spread quite easily and fandom memory always seems impossibly short, but here on tumblr you’re able to find out for yourself. That means the next time you hear about how xyz thing happened a long time ago, check out some of those archives and see what you can find.

Also, my personal favorite part of tumblr is that old posts are just as valid as new posts. Find a masterpost about RBB and SBB from 2015? Go ahead and reblog that; bring it back to the circulating dash. People will love that. Find a fanartist that you really like? Search through their tags, reblog anything you want. It’s not considered stalking or weird in any way. We love bringing back old posts here. Tumblr is a website where you’re not meant to just talk about the present. 

The cultural difference between Tumblr and Twitter

Speaking of the ways that tumblr and twitter are different, let’s talk for a moment about the 1D fandom in particular.

I’ve held this theory for a while that the twitter (and instagram) algorithm is fracturing the fandom. Because twitter is so dependent on the algorithm, people are more likely to split apart and join smaller and smaller communities based on smaller, more specific opinions. Tumblr, being a place where you don’t just get a post on your dash because someone else liked it, doesn’t have those smaller cliques. There are larries, and there are antis.

(if you get really in the weeds, there are also larry shippers [who don’t believe they’re together but like to read it in fic], and houis [who think they were together but broke up], but I just don’t hear about them as much).

While I do occasionally hear about blouies on my dash, for the most part this is a culture that exists primarily on other sites. 

On another note, because tumblr doesn’t have that handy algorithm, we have to work to make it a more active space. Likes don’t do anything here for anyone other than you, and it doesn’t really change anything about what you’ll see on your dash. Think of them more like the bookmark setting on twitter or instagram. Reblogs are necessary to get anything spread. Anything that you enjoy, or that looks interesting for any reason? Reblog it! That’s the only way other people will see it! And leave a happy comment in the tags if you’ve got one (more on that later). 

And, while lurkers do exist in this fandom (and we love them), it’s important to get an icon and blog header that make you look like a real person. People on tumblr have long been in the habit of blocking shady blogs, mostly because of a bot problem, so if you want to lurk, you have to look like a lurker. Maybe reblog a post or two to establish yourself, and make sure you don’t accidentally look like an icon-less bot posing as a sugar daddy. 

How to set up your account

Okay, so you’ve got a tumblr. Let’s take a minute to fix up the settings so that you’re not getting, well, the worst version of the site. 

My advice is to start by going into your dashboard preferences and:

Turn off the best stuff first (it’ll just show you things you’ve already seen)

Turn off “include stuff in your orbit” (you’ll see terrible posts that are mostly NOT in your orbit)

Turn off “Included based on your likes” (again, you’ll see posts you hate)

Turn off “shorten long posts”. It’s a ridiculous setting that, like many things on tumblr, had potential but was rolled out in an incredibly unhelpful and user unfriendly way.

Once you’ve got that squared away, go into filtering and block any tags and content you don’t like, as that is always proper fandom etiquette. Not seeing things you don’t like is your responsibility, not the responsibility of the person posting them. I personally suggest adding the topics you don’t want to see to both the content list and the filtered tags list, as that gives a much better likelihood of posts that are particularly unsavory for you getting caught by the filters. Please also note this might need to be done on both desktop and the app separately as, depending on where tumblr is at the moment, these filters do not always carry over from one application to the other.

Now scroll down to tumblr labs. These are their experimental things. Some are good! Some are very bad. They do change, though, so this might get out of date pretty fast.

Personally, I enabled fast queue

And disabled everything else

ALSO, an important note, if you are using the apple app, you need to go in and turn off the adult content filter. No idea offhand where that is, but it means posts that include tags like “mine” and “girl” are blocked. It’s ridiculous. 

Who to follow and how to find them

So, you’ve got a new tumblr and need people to follow. This makes sense! To really fill up your dash, I’d suggest the following

Find one person you like. There’s a good chance you know at least someone from twitter who also has a tumblr, so you can start there. If you’re not from twitter, or are looking to start fresh, you can dive into the search function (I’ve never tried finding someone this way myself, but searching larry stylinson or something similar would probably get you started)

Find the people they reblog from and check out each of their blogs! Follow people that make you happy

Follow some update accounts! Thinking of some off the top of my head, there’s @HLUpdate, @Stylesnews, @dailytomlinson, @HLDailyUpdate, or @neilswaterbottles (there’s definitely more though). 

Follow some fanart or fic rec accounts! 

I’d always suggest @1d-fanart or @hlcreators for art. 

For fic, you could check out @hlficlibrary, @ficsyoumayhavemissed, or @thelarriefics. 

Or, recurring fic fests! @onedirectionbigbang or @wordplayfics, which happen every year.

And if you end up not enjoying someone you’ve followed? Unfollow them! It’ll make you happier.

How to interact with posts

Tumblr is all about tags. Do you have a comment or thought? Reblog a post and say your thought in the tags. That way anyone you follow will see it, and the person who made the post will see it. This way a post doesn’t end up with a lot of cluttery additions that don’t mean a lot to the average person reblogging it, but if you browse the tags of posts you’ll find lots of interesting things. Tags can be used to keep track of things, too, of course — some people tag all pictures with who’s in them, or tag art or fic with tags that mean they can find them again. Tags are versatile! But reblog, don’t just like, and tag! The more you interact, the happier content creators are!

What not to do

Don’t repost. If you see something you like on tumblr, reblog it. Even if it’s a really old piece of fanart (like circa 2011). Reblog that old post! Reposting means people don’t get credit, and it doesn’t link back to them. That’s not cool, and in the long term makes fandom less happy.

How to cultivate a happy and healthy fandom

Send happy anons! Ask how people are doing, do question memes, say how much you loved fic/art/edits, etc.

Reblog art. Reblog fic. Reblog what makes you laugh. The more you reblog, the more other people see, the more the fandom moves! Content creators just want their things seen; every time you reblog, their phone gets that little notification and you’ve given someone a bit of happiness.

Unfollow people who annoy you. Follow people who make you happy!

If someone has a take about 1D that you don’t agree with, don’t tell them or send them argumentative anons. Find people who will agree with you, and complain to them privately. Or make your own post, not shading anyone, just presenting your own opinion and theories!

Remember that everyone is a real person. Cut them some slack when you find them being annoying. But also, unfollow. Curate your dash.

#I made this like #in the spring? or summer #and then felt like it was too pretentious to post lmao #anyway maybe this will help someone! #foggy essays #that's a tag that WILL have more in it eventually #once i write my essay about Carolina #...which i was supposed to do back when it first came out lmao

[sadbastard-bug]

Bros before hoes (sorry sophie)

Aka Simon and the reader walk to get donuts to distract Simon from his rejection.

You hadn't heard from Simon in a week, which wasn't exactly normal. A day or two of nothing sure, but a whole seven days of radio silence? Your phone didn't even say he had read the messages you sent. So here you are, a train ride away from home as you stand outside your bestfriends house. You tilt your head as you survey the dead quiet home, theres not a single light on and all the curtains are drawn. Biting back your worries you ascend a short staircase to the porch and hesitantly knock on the glass door. Stepping back you put your hands in your pockets, turning your head skyward as you wait. Theres zero response so you knock again, and again, and again. Each rap against the door more frantic then the last as you genuinely consider breaking in, until eventually you hear it. A shuffling and a very irritated but familiar voice.

Simon looks awful when he opens the door, not looking like he's slept for days and his skin is paler then normal. Theres more stubble then average on his face and his bedhead is so bad you fight the urge to fix it for him the second you notice. You don't realize your stareing until he brings his hand up to his face, clearing his throat. "Why are you here?" It's a easy question but the blunt tone of his voice has you scrambling to explain yourself fast, lest he shut the door in your face.

"You haven't texted or called in days Simon, I got worried something happened to you man."

And with the way hes slumped against the doorframe you do believe something's happened but he does look uninjured at least so you take comfort in that. He doesn't speak for a moment before he sighs and steps back into the house, waving a hand for you to fallow him.

His house is neat, you've come to know his mother is a clean freak who keeps most of the house pristine. Following behind Simon you wordlessly head down the hallway to his room which is the only place his mother doesn't touch. It shows of course, his bed unmade while trash, clothes, and even full plates of food sit around his small room. He doesn't bother to shut the door behind you and instead instantly moves to fall onto his bed, laying on his back completely spread out on the twin sized mattress. Eyeing a plate your pretty sure used to be eggs at some point you quietly move closer to him, stopping right in front of the edge of his bed. Your head tilted as you look down at him, concern clear on your face. "What happened?" The question seems to strike a nerve in your freind and he rolls onto his side to face away from you. His head covered by his hood, though it's clear in his voice he's upset. "I confessed to sophie"

Sophie, right. The third to your trio who you both met in college. A girl who you knew Simon was almost hopelessly into. If it was any other circumstance you would have clapped for him, you certainly never discouraged him from asking her out but not now. Not when it's obvious the girls response wasn't something he was happy about. Biting your cheek you sit beside him on the bed, your backs to eachother as you attempt to give him space without hanging off the mattress. Your afraid to speak even as curiosity eats at your mind. You do want to know exactly how it went but that can be pushed to a later date. When Simon's not curled up in his room like if he gets anymore into himself he'd dissapear. For now you settle for a simple but sympathetic "I'm sorry man"

Not the best thing to say but certainly not the worst. You both sit in deafening silence afterwards, you nervously chewing the insides of your mouth and Simon laying motionless on his side. There's nothing you think would actually help him to hear right now, you know no words of comfort would actually get through his head so you instead go the route of distraction. Clearing your throat you glance over at him "wanna go get donuts?" You honestly thought about suggesting ice cream but that's more of a break up food isn't it? Not exactly for rejection but you do know Simon enjoys sweets so you went for the next thing you could think of. You think he's not going to answer after a while of silence but he eventually shifts, sitting up on his bed as he rubs at his eyes and gives a half hearted nod. You gladly take the confirmation and stand up, brushing off you pants and putting your hands on your hips while you wait for your sluggish freind to pull himself up.

The next thing you know you're both outside his house, you stand off his porch with your skateboard in your arm as he locks the front door behind him. Neither of you own a car so your only option is to walk to the nearest bakery but it's a walk you've done several time by now, years of highschool spent trying to avoid being caught outside by his mom while you both sneak out to satisfy your late night cravings. Once Simon steps off his porch stairs your both off, walking side by side silently in the cold winter air. You wish you had any idea on how to start a conversation but your minds still to concerned with upsetting Simon further so you keep your mouth shut.

About a quarter way into the walk you drop your skateboard to the ground and kick yourself off. Rolling slowly along the sidewalk careful not to move to far ahead of the man your traveling with. It doesn't take long to notice the way he watches you from underneath his hair, his gaze focused on the board. You've tried to teach Simon how to ride multiple times by now but each time ends up with your board several feet away while he sits on the concrete nursing a new injury. You can tell it frustrates him to not be able to get it but you keep trying so once again you slow to a stop, kicking the board up into your hand while you turn your head back to ask "you want to give it a go?"

Simon's eyes drift between your face and the skateboard before he shrugs and steps forward. You smile and return the board to the ground, pushing it towards him and he stops it with his foot. Stepping onto the board he instinctively holds out his arm's to the side, trying to keep balance as the board rolls underneath his feet. He looks like a newborn deer like this, his face scrunched up and his body wobbly not used to the movement of the skateboard while it rolls slowly towards you. Then he leans to far forward, the board almost going out from underneath him and you rush to him with your arms out. The familiar fall never happens however and you eventually register why, your holding his hands as he balances atop the skateboard. You can feel the leather of his gloves warm against your skin and neither of you speak or move for a good second. The board stops still on the sidewalk and you both breath a sigh of relief the air cold enough you can see your exhales. He steps off the board but makes no move to let go of your hands which makes it a bit tricky for him. "You good?" You ask, halfway focused on the way his hands fit in yours. He nods and let's go of one of your hands, only one of them though. You lean down to pick up your board and tuck it under your arm.

You both start walking again completely ignoring the way your still holding onto eachother but it's not awkward. if anything it's the opposite, reminiscent of a time when you two would almost cling to eachother during the winter mornings on your way to school. It's a comfortable thing that spawns a warm feeling in both you're chests. You glance back at him from your peripheral, he's stareing ahead not at all embarrassed or uncomfortable like you expected no, he looks peaceful for the first time in a long while. So you move towards him close to bumping shoulders. This time the silence has shifted to something more normal, something comfortable, Something familiar. A time before college and stress, before sophie and the expected rift between you two when he started crushing on her.

He'll talk about her when hes ready you decide and you'll listen when he does but until then you'll just be quiet, act like kids again. You'll walk hand in hand down an icy sidewalk on a cold day to go get donuts, you'll buy the same kind of donuts you get every time and sit outside the shop on the curb. You'll make a god awful joke about a teacher you both hate and he'll lean forward not to choke as he laughs only to say something even worse in response. You'll drop kick the empty sweets box into the trash and share a cigarette while you head back to his house, laughing the entire time over stupid thoughts in your heads. He won't mention sophie or the confession at all but you won't care, completely okay with being a distraction even if it's for a day. You'll greet his mom later that day as she walks into the home from work and finds you two on the couch watching a bad movie. You'll both help her cook dinner and Simon will actually eat it. You insist on helping wash dishes afterward before you get dragged back to Simon's room where you'll proceed to play video games until your heads are slumped forward and your eyes droop. Simon will pass out first and you'll turn everything off and put it up properly before you eventually fall asleep leaning against the edge of his bed still holding onto his hand, Just like old times.

It's a new thing! I apologize for taking a month to actually post fanfic again after saying I was gonna start writing again but well uh..resident evil and bg3 took up more space in my brain then I thought they would.

This was supposed to be like a hurt/comfort about Simon being sad but somehow it ended up being childhood besties hanging out again, so whoops. Either way it was cute to write dispite my inability to stare at my own writing without tearing my hair out.

;]

#cry of fear #simon cry of fear #cof simon #simon henriksson #Simon henriksson x reader #simon x reader #cof x reader #gn reader

[myvampyrez]

id like to request a zack fair x reader... they're college roomates and zacks a total flirt and while reader denies it for funsies, after a really bad date with some frat boy, zack comforts her and she changes her mind?

micellar water 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

zack fair (ffvii) x fem!reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

hii!! i didnt really specify that they were in college or who it was that reader had a bad date with, this is kinda in zack’s pov and him just being super whipped for you!! this is probably like the longest fic i’ve made so far soo.. i hope you guys enjoy lol

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

mentions of crying, mentions of kissing (eww!! cooties!!), zack’s just super sweet but also super goofy— like he’s the dude to say ‘scruba dub dub’ in the shower type goofy, him waiting for reader and utterly being the ultimate retriever bf (or more so friends to lovers in this), lmk if i missed anything 💕

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

1789 words, 9782 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“woah, you look hot—!” you scoffed, hearing the grin in zack’s voice from behind you while he sat on the couch. you looked at yourself in the mirror, seeing how the sleek dress hugged your figure as you fixed your hair, curves shown on display.

you snickered as you watched zack stare at you, feigning awe with his jaw dropped low and a hand hovering over his mouth. “yeah, yeah. save it for later, i got somewhere to be.” you tsk’ed as your eyes flickered around the living room, searching for your shoes. walking down the hall, you shouted, “did you hide my shoes again, zack?”

a beat of silence passes before you zack’s guilty voice traveled from the living room into the hallway, “maybe.”

zack pouted as you made your way back, huffing as you spotted your pumps placed not-so-subtle-y under his sword. “maybe i just don’t want you going out with another asshole again.”

“he wasn’t that much of an asshole—“

“he smelled like it—“

with the glare you gave him, zack decided to shut up seeing the heel protectively clutched in your hand. sure, you went out with a lot of shitty guys, zack thought. but it was nothing you couldn’t ever handle before.

your face quickly shifted to a sly grin, standing upright as you primped once again, perfecting your look. “why, you jealous, zack?”

“no, just being the cool ultimate amazing friend that i always am.” he stated it so matter of fact like— when really, the word “friend” left his tongue rather thickly, the word almost dying at the back of his throat. he’d never tell you, he thought. he didn’t want to ruin what you both had with some stupid feelings of his own.

you let out an unconvincing, “sure, sure.”

zack surfed through the channels on the tv, sprawled out on the couch as he still felt his legs burn from the amount of squats he had done after training. he pressed his lips disappointedly at how the tv lacked any good shows before he heard you yelp, “shit! it’s eight—!”

tilting his head at your clambering, he sat there in bemusement as he watched you run out the door— until your head popped in one last time, “food, fridge, i’ll be back before midnight!”

but as the door shut in a hurry, zack leaned his head back against the arm of the sofa. the apartment was silent except for the low crackling volume of whatever crappy show played on tv. his chest rose and fell as he let out a big sigh, slumping against the couch as his eyes drifted towards the wall.

great, he was alone and his unceremonious attempts at hiding your shoes failed. he almost felt dissatisfied, why couldn’t you just see that he liked you? or better yet, why couldn’t he just admit he liked you so you could reject him and get over it? zack wore his heart on his sleeve, so why was it so difficult now?

one hour turned into two, and two into three. it took everything for zack just to keep himself occupied. he moved around the apartment restlessly— doing squats, watching shit tv, even trying so far as to try making a new dish. keyword: try.

after a whole day of pretty much doing nothing waiting for you to come home, he decided to just tire himself out enough to pass out on the couch, sleep being his last resort. he lolled his head on the arm of the couch, resting it in the dent left from the hours before. zack took one last look at the clock as it read eleven o’clock. letting out a sigh, he closed his eyes while shifting on the small sofa trying to get comfortable. nothing much better to do when waiting then take a nap to speed up the process, yeah?

but when zack jolted awake at the sound of the door slamming, he sat upright while his eyes searched the room. not even having time to rub the sleep from his eyes, he looked around.

now dark with only the tv as his light source, the clock on the wall now read twelve o’five and your heels were now carelessly thrown against the door. zack turned his head towards the new source of light and was met with the bright luminescent rays of the bathroom accompanied with your silhouette in the doorway. and at first glance, zack would’ve brushed it off as you just being lazy— but his thoughts changed when he heard the wet sniffles and broken sighs, his ears perked up.

his back hit the cold air once he got up, leaving the warmth of the couch and making his way over to the lit bathroom. mako tinted eyes adjusted to the light as they settled on your blurry figure, hunched over the sink with eyeliner smudged across your eye while you tried to catch your breath— and that woke him up real quick.

“zack—!” you said, and god, did your shaky voice make his heart ache. his body reacted on its own accord, arms immediately reaching out towards you and embracing you. zack put one hand on the back of your head as your body shook with silent sobs. he could feel the tears starting to stain his shirt, one of his favorites although that didn’t seem to matter now that he didn’t mind it being coated with your sorrow.

he heard a small voice next to his ear, wavering as you tried maintain your composure as you said, “i’m sorry i woke you up.” with a comforting hand on his back, you rubbed at the trail of his spine, unknowing that zack’s eyebrows were knit together with a strong bewilderment— you’re over here crying, and you’re apologizing over waking him up?

“don’t say that.” he told you, and you could’ve sworn his arms locked around you tighter. trying to lighten the mood, he gives a weary chuckle, “i needed to wake up anyways.”

you didn’t laugh though, simply soaking in the affection brought upon you until he finally pulled away. the hand that kept you at arms length squeezed your shoulder while you sniffled and wiped under your eyes. “‘m glad i wore waterproof mascara, today.”

his lips twitched downwards, watching as you made a weak attempt to brush his concern off. “what happened tonight?”

and that seemed to make you cry even harder, making zack curse himself as his eyes widened. “okay—! okay! don’t answer—don’t answer that!” he stammered, trying in a desperate attempt to get you to stop crying. he didn’t know why he’d even ask that to a person who was currently sobbing and probably needed space?

“here, just..”

a loud yelp left your lips once you felt zack’s hands lift you up from the underside of your thighs and place you on the bathroom counter, the cold ceramic a deep contrast against the warmth of your skin.

you let yourself settle as you watched zack rummage through the wooden drawers of the sink, grumbling something along the lines of, “where’s that stupid water..?”

you cleared your throat, “what water?”

“the stupid water you use when you have the waterproof thingy on.”

“..micellar water?”

“yes! that—!” he pointed his finger at you in agreement, watching as you leaned over and opened the first drawer and pointed out the small clear tub of the product. he looked around in search of something— before letting out a small, “aha!” sound once he found a small towel. you softly grinned as you watched him douse the rag in a copious amount of

makeup remover, not even bothering to wring it out before turning towards you with a triumphant grin.

you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his calloused hands— gentle under your chin while the other one wiped the makeup off your face. he made sure to softly pat your eyes, making sure to try and rid all the mascara off your lashes as best as he could without being too rough.

“y’see? i told you i was the coolest awesomest friend ever, didn’t i?” zack finally said. even with his teasing grin, his tone remained uncharacteristically soft.

“‘cool ultimate amazing friend’.” you corrected him, the corners of your lips quirking upwards while you talked. zack was lucky you couldn’t see his smile right now, just happy to admire yours in the dim white lighting of the bathroom. “right.” he said, nodding his head as if you could see him now.

he set the towel down as he examined your eyes, making sure he got all the makeup off. fluttering your eyes open, you gazed back at zack. in any other scenario, he would’ve brushed his staring off and used the makeup as an excuse— but really, even with your puffy eyes and swollen lips, and even in the cheap apartment complex lighting, he’d still think you’re beautiful. maybe the dingy details of the bathroom and the close proximity made it more intimate than needed.

leaning forward, your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes, ensuring that he wanted the same thing as you. and when he had met you in the middle, bridging the gap between your parted lips with his own, it’s like a wave of coolness washed over his body. your hands came up to rest upon his jaw while he thought to himself; this was all he ever wanted, his dream girl right in front of him let alone kissing him.

sighing, you pulled away for a moment— hands still rested on his face. his eyes held nothing but adoration for you when he gazed up at you, the small height difference causing his eyes to look even more ethereal in the light, swirls of mako and the overhead bulbs evident in his dazed eyes. he only chased your lips for a split second before you let out a small laugh and a sniffle. he wasn’t just a ‘rebound’, you thought to yourself, zack fair was a man worth much, much more.

he closed his eyes and leaned in for one more kiss, hand on the back of your head as it buried itself in your hair, but not before mumbling against your lips a quick, “am i still the most ultimate awesomest friend ever?”

you grinned, “do you wanna be?”

“you’re over here sat on the counter kissing your ‘cool ultimate friend’—“

“‘cool ultimate amazing friend’—“

zack pouted, tilting his head before you leaned in for another kiss, removing the dramatic curve of his lips. you groaned in exasperation once he pulled away again, he was just teasing at this point, wasn’t he?—

“i think cool ultimate amazing boyfriend sounds better.” he grinned cheekily.

#ffvii x reader #final fantasy x reader #ffvii fanfiction #final fantasy vii x reader #ffvii remake #ffvii #ffvii crisis core #ff7 crisis core #final fantasy 7 crisis core #final fantasy 7 x reader #final fantasy fanfiction #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ff7 zack #ffvii zack #final fantasy zack #zack fair #ffvii zack fair #zack fair x reader #zack fair fanfiction #zack fair headcanons #zack fair blurb #ffvii rebirth #final fantasy 7 rebirth #ff7 rebirth #final fantasy vii rebirth #ODOTTIE *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.* #kiss kiss

[kimkhimhant]

part 2 of the kim jacket meta (part one)

in this, I am focusing on the kimchay scenes in which Kim is wearing a jacket (I'd analyze every scene where he's wearing one, but that's every scene he's in besides the ~6 scenes mentioned in the last post so. narrowing down the focus to just kimchay scenes)

starting off of course with their first meeting.

kim is, predictably, wearing a leather jacket in this scene. he is wik and his walls are fully up. there is very little of him on display because he is putting on an act and performing for the public.

his second scene with Chay he is also wearing a jacket, but it's not leather. it's a soft velvety material, and Kim is a little less closed off. He gives Chay a little bit of himself: his name and interest. But he's also left a little bit more vulnerable than he intends to be. the stunned silence after Chay proclaims "i like all sides of you" as well as the inability to say no to Chay.

The next time he wears a jacket around Chay is when Chay shows up at his apartment, and Kim is wearing that peach-y denim(? canvas?) jacket. It catches him off guard. He wasn't expecting to see Chay, and he barely speaks a word to Chay during the entire exchange. Despite the awe and fondness on his face in the scene, he still doesn't open up to or reach out to Chay. Chay comes, sings his song, leaves, while Kim stands there silently.

There are some non-chronological scenes and also non-in-person kimchay moments in between here, like kim rejecting chay's calls or thinking about him while at home – he's wearing a jacket in all of these scenes. he has himself closed off, he's not reaching out to Chay, and he's rejecting Chay's attempts to reach out to him.

This scene in the recording studio is only seen through a flashback in the final episode, but chronologically it seems to fit here. Kim and Chay are at the studio and Chay is recording TSICY. Kim, in his denim jacket, starts to show too much of himself and gets up and leaves.

And then the confession.

Kim is wearing a leather jacket in this one. That might seem like it contradicts this whole analysis, but there are a couple things to consider. 1: despite seemingly accepting Chay's confession, Kim himself doesn't say anything. I think about all he says in the scene is "Porchay" something about Chay passing the practical, "thanks" and "I can't breathe." and 2: his jacket is gone by the next scene, when they're at Chay's house on the couch.

In accepting Chay's confession, kissing Chay's cheek, and basking in Chay's physical affection, Kim's layer of protection comes off and his walls start to come down.

The next Kimchay scene featuring a jacket is..

the breakup. Kim is back in leather and he is running away. He can barely look Chay in the eyes, and he is very carefully controlling his expressions so as to not show his emotions.

and then the club scene. Kim is upset and acts out in anger – sure this might seem like emotional vulnerability, but it's not, because he's not actually acknowledging what he's really feeling, he's not actually reaching out to Chay in the way he wants to, and he's not actually being vulnerable, he's just hiding behind his anger because he doesn't want or know how to take accountability for his own actions or face the fact that he lost Chay.

And then, as I went over in the first part of this meta, the last couple scenes Kim is again without a jacket as he confronts the loss and attempts to reach back out to Chay.

So yeah! Kim's jackets or lack thereof as a representation of vulnerability <3

#kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #kinnporsche #porchay kittisawasd #kpts #kpts meta #benji talks

[divine-misfortune]

The first time Zephyr and Mountain spent the night together, they woke up alone in a bed that felt far too big for just them. They reached blindly through the ocean of blankets and furs for the warm body they ached for only to find nothing. Loneliness struck them like a freight train. Forced them straight from their grogginess and into an alarming state of clarity.

Their body hurt in more places than it usually did, Zephyr couldn't even dream of moving when their joints screamed so violently. Couldn't so much as stand and gather their clothes to return to their own room before the cold waves of shame could crash over them.

Something hollow attempted to make a home in their chest as they stared at the empty space beside them, biting back the awful sting of rejection and the tears it would surely bring.

The smell of the earth ghoul was everywhere, and it felt like a joke.

Zephyr felt like a joke.

But the bedroom door gently pushed open before those ugly feelings could swallow them whole.

Mountain, awful behead and all, crept back into the room, mug in hand. He froze upon seeing them awake, staring at him, and just seemed to go red in the cheeks. He smiled nervously as he slunk back to the other side of the bed.

"I wanted to surprise you, be back before you woke up, but I went to make your tea and we were out so I had to go get mint from the greenhouse and-"

Zephyr laughed despite themself, despite all the feelings that had run through them in such a short span of time. They laughed as they took the mug from him, warm in their hands, and pulled Mountain down to kiss them again.

And as quickly as anxiety had made their rib cage feel tight, Mountain's return had made their chest feel full.

#im back on my mount/zeph bullshit nobody talk to me #void rambles #nameless ghoul #mountain ghoul #zephyr ghoul #mountain/zephyr #the band ghost #ghost the band

[thefirstknife]

Ok now with context, Crow going through actually makes a lot of sense:

Because Crow has a connection to Mara, she can keep track of where he goes and Osiris can use that connection to make the bridge for the rest of us. From Osiris:

I love Mara's reaction too. She's obviously distraught, but she eventually relents:

Mara's days of thinking she alone can save everyone are long over. And her days of thinking that she can control and direct her brother are over too. Their radio message also destroyed me:

Mara: Are you sure you want this? Crow: Osiris thinks it's the best shot we've got. Mara: You didn't answer my question. Crow: I don't know... I've been trying to find what I want my whole life, even as Uldren. I used to think the Traveler gave me purpose. Uldren thought his came from you... Hmph. Mara: I never meant to twist you so - only to keep you safe. My protection turned malignant. For that... I am sorry. Crow: It wasn't just you. Uldren heard your heartbeat and chose to make that his core. He mistook impulse for meaning. I won't! So... I guess it's not that I want this. I need it. I believe in it. Even if I don't make it, everyone else just might. Mara: I sacrificed you before to preserve a chance for a future - I can't do that again. Crow: I'll be fine, as long as you and I stick together... Remember, Rega? Mara: Still subsisting off stories of hope and bravery. I have missed you. Crow: [chuckles] I guess I always have been the one to fill my head with nonsense, right? Mara: Your hope is not nonsense. It is a vital line of sustenance. One I have learned through our people. Fill your heart with it, and I will keep you in mine until you return to me. Crow: I will. Mara: Go, then. Find purpose of your own, and not one of mine or anyone else's making. Crow: Thank you, sister... You'll see me again. And this time, I'll remember you.

This is basically the culmination of their entire story ever since they were human. Mara always wanted to protect him because she felt responsible for him because their mother refused to be a parent to them. And since she was young at the time, she messed up her protective impulse and turned it into something awful. And over the years she's had time to think about it, especially in the last two years since she's been back in seasons. She went from being confused about Crow to being protective again to being rejected by him and learning that she needs to do things differently and now she fully apologised and realised what he needs: his own purpose, not anyone elses.

I'm really glad this got resolved before the saga ends and I'm actually really glad that Crow will be the one to do this for us (I have no doubts he'll be perfectly fine; he has to be, we know he makes it through and that a bridge is formed for us to go through), giving him a role that he always wanted to fulfil: a hero in a fantastic story.

It's also really good closure for Mara. She relinquished her control, especially over someone she always felt possessive and protective of and she is finalising her role as just a part of the bomb. We've been looking at her progress for years now and she's been through a lot of change and I think this is a really good way to show her formally and fully changed.

We still have a week to go, which is when we'll get the final lore page. Not sure if we're getting the final week next week or if they'll make us wait, given the extended season. Also no clue when Crow will actually be going through; right away or some end-of-season event or something. We'll have to wait and see! Really excited to find out what will happen for the last week. There's also two more radio messages, so one extra after the story is done.

#destiny 2 #destiny 2 spoilers #season of the wish #season of the wish spoilers #long post #mara #crow #osiris

[originalfatfiction]

Mason's Gain

Mason Megalos had been my best friend for over a decade when everything fell apart. I still hadn’t gotten over how suddenly we went our separate ways. Like many sexually confused adolescents, I had fallen in love with my best friend. We were both boys, and I had come to realize my love for him was one of the worst things that could have ever happened. I heard how other guys talked. I knew that liking Mason wasn’t something I could act on. 

We’d been about a month into our freshman year when I felt him slipping away from me. He had joined the football team and started hanging out with a bunch of his misogynistic, homophobic, and slightly racist teammates. Most people would say these guys were harmless, but I knew that the longer Mason hung around them, the more influence they’d have over his ideologies. He was being brainwashed! I had to win him back over from the dark side.  

Mason wasn’t a hateful person, and I was determined to come out to him before it was too late. I trusted him more than anybody in the whole world; I genuinely believed with every fiber of my being that we’d be able to work through my teeny-tiny crush on him (okay, so maybe it wasn’t the teeniest or the tiniest, and I was a hundred percent head-over-heels in love with him, but I digress). I figured he’d reject me amiably and we could continue our friendship, but unforeseen circumstances had prohibited my confession indefinitely. 

We’d been at my house. I had been avoiding coming out to him, as there was always something stopping me. The reasons were always stupid, like the fact there was an X-Men movie marathon coming on TV and we just had to watch it together. Like many high school aged boys, Mason sometimes referred to stuff as gay, in reference to things he considered stupid or slightly feminine. It had gotten way worse since he’d been hanging around his new friends. At one point he said it about some commercial on the TV. I felt that anxious feeling I often got, but this time I didn’t let it stop me. 

 “Mason, I’m gay,” I’d told him. I blurted it out, really. It wasn’t my finest moment; it wasn’t what I’d practiced a million times in the bathroom mirror. 

He looked at me for a while, assessing me, and then he got up and left. With no words of encouragement or disapproval. 

October 11, 2008 would forever be ingrained in my mind as the day Mason walked out of my life and never looked back. I’d really thought he was different. I’d really thought that I could tell him about my authentic self. I had never even got to mention the fact that I had a crush on him, which was probably for the best. 

He hadn’t been the person I thought he was.  

If losing Mason as a friend wasn’t bad enough, I was now still dealing with the repercussions of coming out. It had been three years since then.

Yes, three years of Mason’s new friend group taking every possible opportunity to terrorize me for being gay. They’d beat me up from time to time, throw slurs at me, or make homophobic jokes knowing there was nothing I could do or say to stop them. I didn’t want to make excuses for Mason, because the fact he had been such a terrible friend was inexcusable, but he never directly harassed me like his underlings; he just sort of had dominion over them, which was slightly less awful. Seriously, I think it was worth something that he never beat me up or said anything mean to me (at least not to my face). It was easier to handle his passive attitude in regard to my situation.

Those dumb jocks and future gas station attendants all looked to Mason for approval. He’d become their God—the coolest, the most handsome, the almighty. I bet if he stood up for me at least once, my days at school would go a lot smoother. I hated myself for it, but I just couldn’t let go of my idealized version of him. I told myself he didn’t mean what he did or said. I told myself that there was still good in him. Even though it killed me to hear him laugh when his friends called me a fag or a homo, I believed Mason didn’t really think I was disgusting.

I still thought he was attractive. It wasn’t like I was blind. We might not have been best friends anymore, but I lusted after him just the same as I had before. Mason had an olive complexion and it always seemed like he was glowing, like he was an angel or something. Mason’s parents were Greek, having moved to America before he was born. He had this curly brown hair that he took excellent care of now that he was older (when we were younger it was always messy). His eyes were green. His lips were full. He had the most beautiful smile. It was almost the most attractive thing about him.

The most attractive thing about Mason was his butt. He had the best ass I’d ever seen. It’s what I always looked at when I could take a clandestine glance. I had looked at his butt so frequently, I could probably pick it out of a police lineup.

“Yes Officer,” I’d say. “Butt number three is Mason’s. The sheer size of the cheeks makes it obvious, and the dimples on his lower back are also a dead giveaway.”

 He was taller than me, and he definitely had to be over six feet by now. I was 5’9” and weighed only about 160 pounds. Mason on the other hand had really buffed up in our years distanced from one another; I would have to guess he was around 200 pounds. He’d been a pudgy kid, but when he joined the football team freshman year, they worked all of his extra weight into muscle. Seeing him change so much really stung, not having gotten the chance to change along with him.

I had to continuously remind myself that none of these things mattered anymore. He could be extraordinarily hot with the best ass in the entire country, but that didn’t change the fact that he hated me for something I couldn’t control. He abandoned a valuable friendship and allowed others to belittle me. My mom had told me growing up, in a somewhat blunt way I’d grown used to, “Not everybody is your friend. Sometimes people can surprise you in the worst ways possible.” I never, and I mean never, thought my mother’s pessimistic wisdom would apply to my relationship with Mason.

We were about two months into senior year, and today in English IV, the last class of the day, I noticed Mason talking to a troll named Bret Phelps. This guy was possibly the worst of the group. The others just called me names, having grown tired of wasting energy beating me up, but he felt compelled to hunt me down and physically assault me every other day. I made my way to my locker as quickly as I could and made a mad dash for my bike. 

Today I was going to make it.

I was trying to be positive, which wasn’t always easy. It was a quality I admired in others, so I tried my best to emulate that positivity. I was determined to hold my head up high and to be optimistic. I knew things would one day get better, even if I had to put up with Mason’s posse until graduation. 

Today I wasn’t going to get punched anywhere on my body.  

 I approached the bike rack quickly, wanting to make it off campus unscathed. The closer I got to where the bikes were housed, the more noticeable was the form of a guy leaning casually on an adjoining pillar.

It was Bret. Damn.

He had to have forgone stopping at his locker. He’d come directly here after the bell rang to wait for me. He must have really been in a sour mood if he wanted to catch me so badly.

I had to be strong. Even if I wanted to whine and cry and beg for him to leave me alone, I couldn’t. I refused to give him or any of his asshole friends the satisfaction of breaking me down. I was immune to this. I just had to accept my beating and he’d move on. At first, I fought hard every single time, but he’d still pummel me. That was when I came to realize that if I didn’t show emotion, he’d give me a swift punch in the gut and go about his day. I wasn’t going to give the sadist the pleasure he oh so desired. It wasn’t fun fighting someone who didn’t react. 

“Hello Oliver,” he said, smiling. His front tooth was slightly chipped, and I hoped it was from someone punching him in the mouth. “You were like the first one out of class. I hope you didn’t think you were going to miss me today.” He was shorter than Mason but taller than I was. He was a stocky guy, and if I didn’t hate him so much, I’d be willing to admit that he was almost-maybe-possibly attractive.

 “Hey Bret,” I said in an even tone, keeping my head down, not making eye contact. “I really have to get going.” 

“This isn’t going to take long.” 

He walked towards me. I closed my eyes and tensed my ab muscles waiting for him to sock me in the stomach.

“I’ll handle him today.”

It was Mason’s voice. I opened my eyes slowly, letting out a deep breath and relaxing my abs. Was he going to start beating me up too? I didn’t think I could handle it if he decided he was so disgusted by me that he had to resort to physical violence.

 “Yeah, okay Mason,” Bret said, reverting to his beta-male status. “You’ve got to make sure you get him in the gut, just like he likes it.” With that, Bret walked off, glad to be told what to do—but not before punching me in the arm as hard as he could.

“Thanks,” I said, rubbing my arm as I made my way over to my bike. I kneeled down and began putting in the combo for my bike lock.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, like he’d done me the biggest favor. 

I looked up at him from the ground, and he looked like a giant. I felt really nostalgic looking up at him. Mason used to fight people for saying that I was gay. He used to defend my honor like I was a high society lady in a Victorian romance novel. But that didn’t matter anymore. He was a regular human being who made stupid human being decisions. I had to stop romanticizing the present with memories of the past.

I stayed silent. I didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. Why was he still standing there? I wanted him to leave so I wouldn’t have to feel so on edge.

“You want a ride home?” he asked.

Was he being for real? He only ever talked to me in class, and that was if it was mandated by the teacher. Now he was offering me a ride home? I wanted to say something biting and sarcastic, but nothing good would come from it. That wasn’t who I was or who I wanted to be. I did my best to push through the bitter feelings.

“No,” I said, my voice flatter than I meant it to be. I didn’t want to sound upset or anything, but I was struggling to temper out my emotions. “I have my bike.” 

This was the first time in a long time I was alone with him. It made me think of that day in October three years ago when everything changed. I hated how this was forcing me to recollect our final moments together as best friends.

“We can put it in the back,” he said matter-of-factly. I knew he was talking about his Jeep, but I still pictured his ass.

I was silent again, and he just smiled at me, like he knew I was going to accept his offer. This was how things had been in elementary school, middle school. He’d always been able to charm me into doing whatever he wanted. Even now as he began to saunter off, expecting me to follow, I couldn’t stop myself from bending to his will.

“Let’s go,” he said, jerking his head slightly in the direction of the student parking lot.

“Yeah okay, sure,” I mumbled, internally berating myself for being so easily swayed by him.

I followed him over to his Jeep. It was an older model, some of the burgundy paint peeling off. The inside smelled like he did; I took multiple deep breaths. He still remembered how to get to my house. The trip was for the most part silent, which gave me time to run scenarios, and they all ended badly, with some terrible prank that would awaken my latent telekinetic powers akin to my homegirl Carrie White. 

“Casa de Bailey.” 

I felt myself jump slightly, having been lost in my Stephen King fantasies.  

“Thanks,” I said, hopping out of the passenger’s side. 

I put my bag on and walked towards the rear of the Jeep. I didn’t think he’d get out of the car, but he met me at the back and removed my bike for me. As he set it down on the pavement, I took in how strong his arms looked and how the sleeves of his t-shirt were being eaten by their size. He had biceps. He had triceps. If there were any other muscles in the upper arm, he had those too. 

“Can I ask you something?” What could he want to ask me? He’d probably request that I transfer schools so he wouldn’t have to look at his loser ex-best friend anymore. 

“Sure,” I said, my voice cracking slightly, not knowing where this was going and not really wanting to find out. “You can come inside.” I started around back to put away my bike; he followed. I put my bike in the garage and unlocked the back door. I walked up the three steps into the kitchen and offered him something to drink.

“Milk, if you have it.” I poured him a large glass and he began to gulp it down. He was so white, drinking milk like it was actually good. I used to give him such a hard time about it. “Thanks,” he said, wiping away a milk mustache with his forearm.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” I was curious, seeing as we hadn’t really spoken in years. 

“Oh yeah,” he said. I took in his thick eyebrows, which were furrowed in seriousness. I wanted to stroke his brows with my fingers, to feel his face in my hands. I bet his skin was soft. He frowned and it made me a little worried. 

“What?” I asked. “You’re okay, aren’t you?” I still cared about him and his well-being. Maybe it was idiotic of me to still be so devoted to a person that ignored my sufferings, and maybe I should have ignored Mason in return, but my gut instinct was to be concerned.

“Here’s the thing,” he started, “I’m kind of failing English and I was wondering if you could help me out. Bret and the other guys are barely passing, and you’re so smart, I figured you’d be the best person to tutor me.” He paused for a moment, glancing at me. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

“That I’m helping you or that you’re failing English?” I asked, to clarify. 

“Both,” he blurted out quickly. 

We stood in an awkward silence. I felt my face go hot and was slightly embarrassed. He didn’t want people to know he was even interacting with me. It was kind of degrading, and I needed to have some self-worth and tell him that I had more value than that. That was what I should’ve done, but I was weak, and he was hot.

“Okay,” I said like a dope. I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll help you out.”

“Thanks dude,” he said, a sound of relief in his voice. “You good to meet here after school?”

“Yeah, like what, Tuesdays and Thursdays?” 

“Nah, every day. At least until I get my grade up. My parents lost their shit when they got my progress report.” Every day? That was going to take up a lot of time, and I may not have had much else to do, but I couldn’t believe he just imposed his own tutoring schedule on me. 

“Yeah,” I said, even more like a dope. “No problem.”

“Well, I have to go,” he said suddenly. I turned to get the milk, ready to offer him another glass of moo juice, but he was gone out of the back door before I could get the words out.  

“See you later,” I said aloud to myself, putting the milk back in the fridge. 

If I put my self-respect and righteous anger aside, this was fantastic. I’d get to talk to Mason every day. I’d get to look at his gorgeous face and body every day. I’d get to imagine, even though it was ridiculous, that we were still best friends. He had come to me for help. That just proved that there was still a connection between us. Maybe, in his own odd way, Mason was trying to rekindle our friendship.

I had noticed in the previous weeks that he looked bigger than usual. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but being able to look at him without having to avert my eyes confirmed it. 

He was growing. 

I’d heard he quit the football team. Everyone had heard he’d quit the team. It was the hottest gossip for the entire first month of school. I knew he still exercised, having heard him mention to Bret he worked out with his uncle every night, trying to get into powerlifting. I didn’t know what that entailed, but it sure sounded like something I wanted to see. I was getting an erection just thinking about Mason possibly getting a bit of a belly to go along with the sheer size he was already putting on. 

I realized I’d been keeping tabs on him without really meaning to. If his name was brought up, I listened. I was still invested in his life, and this new arrangement was going to potentially put me in a dangerous situation.

The fact he’d be coming over again tomorrow got me feeling nervous. I didn’t want things to feel awkward. I wanted to do something nice for him to show I wasn’t holding a grudge or anything (even if I was still a little pissed at him). All hadn’t been forgiven, but maybe this was the start to an important conversation. 

I decided to go shopping for some snacks. He’d always been a big eater, and he’d probably need some brain food if we were to be studying. He liked potato chips and submarine sandwiches.

(“You gotta really pack on the ingredients,” he’d told me when we were younger. “I’m talking about a ridiculous amount of meat and cheese. Oil, mayo, mustard, pickles, lettuce, tomatoes.”  

I stared in astonishment at the monstrous sandwich he had constructed. It looked big enough to feed three people. This was a sandwich Scooby and Shaggy would excitedly devour. 

“You really think you can eat all of that?” I asked.

“You don’t think I can Oli?” he asked, smirking. 

“I think you can. You can do anything!”

“That’s right,” he said. “You wanna watch demolish this thing?” 

“Yeah,” I said, feeling oddly attracted to him in that moment. It was a moment that definitely raised a red flag for me. Why had I been so invested in his display of gluttony?

He finished that entire sub and a bag of family sized chips. His dad came home after a long day of work looking for the ingredients to make himself a sandwich. “Where’s the deli meat?” Mr. Megalos asked in his Greek accent.

“I ate it all, Dad,” Mason replied, not even embarrassed. Mr. Megalos playfully smacked Mason on the back of the head before sending us to the store to buy some more turkey breast. Mason used the change to buy us a package of oatmeal cream pies. Before I even got the chance to have a second one, he’d eaten the rest of them on our walk home. 

I was glad that he did.)

The next day at school I really wanted to talk to Mason, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I waited the day out and went to get my bike. Mason, not Bret, was leaning on the pillar near the bike rack.

“Hello,” I said, a little bit uneasy. He probably didn’t want my help anymore. He probably realized he could find someone else to tutor him. 

“What’s up, Oli?” he asked, smiling like everything was normal between us. Nobody called me Oli anymore. Just hearing him say my name with a smile on his face was enough to give me the vapors. I felt like flinging myself into his muscled arms, swooning.

“Nothing much.” I smiled back at him nervously. “I’m still meeting you at my house, right?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He looked at me seriously. My heart must have skipped a beat. “I told Bret to back off. If he fucks with you again, just let me know. Got it?” 

 “Ye—yeah,” I stammered. “Thanks a lot.” He was so hot when he was serious. He furrowed his brow in a way that made him look slightly angry. I bet he’d make a similar face while having sex.

“See you soon,” he said, swaggering off towards where his car was parked. I took in his wide back and beefy behind. He didn’t even carry a bookbag; he just had a folder, a couple of notebooks, and the novel we were reading in class. This was probably why he was failing.   

I unlocked my bike, mounted it, and rode off towards home. Relief swept over me at the thought of being Bret-free. I continued to pedal and felt myself come alive. I loved riding my bike; I was pretty fit because of it, with muscular thighs and a firm, round ass. My ass was definitely a first runner up to Mason’s glorious cakes. It was nearing the end of October and when it started to snow, I would have to swap my tires for better traction. I thought about Mason on the ride home and what I wanted to do to him. I hated wanting him so badly, but I loved it at the same time. Crushes were so weird that way. It was starting to consume me, yet I didn’t really mind it.  

He was sitting on the front steps when I got there.

“Oli,” he said, standing to meet me at the path to the backyard. He had his hand in his shirt, scratching his tummy. He moved his hand away. “Why don’t you have a car?” His voice was getting to me. I missed hearing his voice more than I realized.

“I can’t afford a nice Jeep like you,” I said a little sarcastically. He laughed, catching my slight insult to the Jeep that had once belonged to Mr. Megalos. It was given to Mason for his birthday last year. I remembered Mr. Megalos driving us to elementary school in that thing, so to see Mason driving it now was kind of funny. “You know it’s just me and my mom.”

“You could get a job,” he suggested. “There are lots of cheap cars. I’d help you look for one.” Mason had always liked cars and that sort of thing. His dad and Uncle Galvin owned an auto shop that Mason helped out in. Galvin was the same uncle he’d been working out with.

“I live like eight blocks from the school and I never go anywhere,” I said, feeling more at ease the longer we were around one another. “But if I ever do start looking for a car, I’d hope the offer would still stand.”

“Of course,” he said. “Consider it payment for your services.” I had put my bike away during our conversation. I opened the back door, and we went inside. 

“You can go up to my room,” I said. He knew the way.

I walked over to the fridge and looked at the array of supplies I’d picked up yesterday. I’d gone overboard for sure, but I removed the ingredients and placed them on the counter. I bought provolone cheese, turkey breast, and honey roasted ham. I’d even gone so far as to buy hoagie rolls and herb-seasoned submarine oil. I stuffed those hoagie rolls full of meat and cheese and veggies, just like I knew he liked his sandwiches—at least I knew he liked them this way years ago. I cut them in half and placed them on a plate, pouring some original flavored Ruffles in a bowl. I also put half a sleeve of Oreos on a separate plate and poured two glasses of milk. 

I carried the tray carefully as I made my way up the stairs to my room. Entering, I saw he was sitting at my desk, holding a photo of us at the beach when we were in the seventh grade. I walked over to him and set the tray down next to him on my desk.

“You still have this?” he asked, smiling. I looked over at the picture in his hand. His arm was around my shoulder and we both smiled wide at the camera. He had always been taller than I was, and this was before he lost his baby fat.

“Yeah,” I said shakily. I felt lame all of a sudden, still holding on to something he probably considered a piece of junk. “Could you please put it down?” 

The frame was even more special than the photograph; Mason had made it for me, painting the phrase “Best Buds” in big, sloppy letters on the bottom, seashells and starfish glued all around the rest of the frame. He had burned his fingers so badly using the hot glue gun he wore bandages for a week. I remember how proud he was of his craftsmanship.

“Sorry,” he said, laughing. He carefully put the picture frame back in its place before picking up a cookie, popping the whole thing in his mouth. “I didn’t mean to make you all tense.” 

“I’m not tense,” I said, sounding incredibly tense. He chewed, smirking slightly. I needed to get a grip. I was going to ruin everything if I didn’t chill out. I took a deep breath. “I thought a small snack would help you focus better.”

“This is a small snack?” he asked.

“I just—I remembered you had a big appetite.”

“You remembered right,” he said, reaching for one of the sandwich halves and taking a colossal bite. I felt even more embarrassed. Did he remember anything about me? Did he ever think about me at all?

“Yeah.” I sighed.

“You know Oli,” he started, his mouth half full. “I never stopped eating big, but I’ve definitely kicked it into overdrive since quitting football. If I don’t slow down, I’m gonna get fat again like in that photo.” His free hand absent-mindedly rubbed his stomach. It was like he was toying with me. He took another large bite of the sandwich. “I already eat like garbage, but I started a bulking cycle recently, really pushing myself to put on some mass. I think I’ve already put on ten pounds.” Ten pounds was kind of a lot, seeing as he had quit the football team only a little over a month ago.

“You—you carry the weight well,” I said, aroused. “You don’t look fat to me.” He had finished his first half and grabbed another.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, grabbing his slightly protruding paunch and shaking the small bit of belly he was sporting. “I eat way too much Oli.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” I said, trying not to discourage a habit I wanted him to continue.

“Get this, I ordered two large pizzas from Domino’s the other weekend and finished both of them. It was one of those deals where you save a ton of money if you get the two larges. I’m a sucker for deals like that.”

“Who isn’t?” I asked, watching him alternate between bites of the sandwich and the potato chips.

“When I got to the last slice, I was pissed. I wasn’t even full.”

“Wow Mason,” I said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. “When you put it like that, it does sound like a lot.”

“I was lucky my mom had made two trays of pastitsio the night before.” He lifted his shirt and showed me his belly, feeling the need to prove to me that he was indeed packing on the pounds. He was kind of hairy, and I liked it. He grabbed at his tummy with his strong hands, shaking it again, uncovered. I just wanted to feel his stomach in my own hands. I needed to know what it felt like. “This gut is brought to you by pastitsio, pizza, and protein shakes.”

He left his shirt up as he reached for another portion of the sandwich. I watched from my bed with my legs closed tight, as he bit, chewed, and swallowed, repeating the process until he moved on to the next serving. His large hands made those hefty sandwiches look like dainty finger food at a garden party. He pulled at his t-shirt, covering himself.

“You don’t wanna see that,” he said, laughing, his cheeks reddening slightly. He grabbed a handful of the salty chips and shoved them into his mouth. I imagined his hands grabbing a handful of my ass.

I didn’t know how I was going to be able to get through these tutoring sessions. He was pornographic. I was rock hard, my dick straining against my jeans. I was hoping I’d soften up enough before I had to stand. He kept going and going until he was chugging the glasses of milk. Only a couple of cookies remained on the plate.

“How—uh, how much do you weigh?” I asked.

“I don’t really know. You got a scale?”

“Yeah, it’s in the bathroom,” I said, affirming that I had one.

“Let’s do this,” he said, standing. I wiggled a little before getting up, making sure to minimize the obviousness of the boner in my pants. When I was out of sight, I took the time to tuck my penis into the waistband of my underwear, so it was angled upwards, and the front of my pants was flat. I brought the scale from my bathroom, praying he hadn’t noticed I was still semi-erect.

“How much did you weigh?” I asked.

“207 pounds at the pre-season weigh-in back in August,” he said, walking towards where I placed the scale in the middle of my bedroom. I sat on my knees near where the number would be displayed. He stepped on the scale and I glanced at the reading. “What’s the damage?” he asked, standing perfectly still.

“Well, um—that’s something.”

“How much?”

“Maybe this thing is busted, but it says you weigh 226 pounds.” My dick throbbed as I said it. What was so hot about Mason putting on weight like this? It wasn’t just muscle that turned me on, but also fat. I hoped his bulking cycle never ended.

“Shit,” he said, his tone surprised yet slightly satisfied. “I’m gonna be huge if I don’t start slowing down with all this eating.” I swallowed, hard.

I couldn’t help him study today. I’d get better at putting up with his natural eroticism, but today couldn’t be helped. He needed to leave before I came in my pants. I could feel pre-cum starting to coat the lower half of my stomach.

“I’m not feeling good all of a sudden,” I said. Mason stepped off of the scale. I couldn’t think straight, and I was for sure too turned on to focus.

“Really, why?” he asked.

“Like I just got a headache out of nowhere.” I was going to cum any second. It’d take me five strokes tops with how I was feeling, but I knew I’d want to go again immediately.

“Oh shit,” he said, picking up his stack of materials. “You gonna be okay?”

“I probably just need to take some Tylenol and get a nap in before it gets too late.”

“Okay.” He grabbed the rest of the Oreos. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Did I mind? Of course I didn’t mind. I was apparently some sort of freak who wanted him eating constantly. “No, go ahead,” I said. He smiled at me appreciatively before popping one of the cookies in his mouth. I walked him to the door, and we said our goodbyes.

I ran back upstairs and got undressed. I stepped onto the scale, which was still in the middle of my bedroom floor. I weighed myself: 159 pounds.

Mason was 67 pounds bigger than I was. I ran my hand over the shaft of my penis. I gave it one pump, two pumps. Fuck, I was picturing his gut in his hands. Three pumps, Four pumps. He had eaten everything on that tray. I pictured Mason getting bigger and beefier. That’s what did it; I came in thick spurts all over myself.

Tomorrow was going to be tough.

It didn’t get any easier controlling my sexual compulsions when Mason came by for tutoring. It had been two weeks since he first asked for my assistance, and I helped him with his papers and worksheets. We also spent time reading. He was so damn cute. He’d whisper things to himself about what was happening in whatever he was annotating. I had heard him say “no way” or “what” at least once per chapter.

I thought this stuff was all really easy, and I was shocked at how he let his grade fall so low in less than two months of school. He must not have done any type of work for this class until now. I considered the fact that he had a social life and lots of friends to distract him from school. I, on the other hand, spent my free time making flashcards and watching reruns of Chopped and Good Eats. Mason had always been the largest component of my social life, so when he went away, so did any potential high school social plans.

Each study visit I always had a tray with different types of snacks. I kept in mind that Mason was a big eater, and the portions remained hearty and plentiful. It was a Friday study session with an essay due on Monday.

“I’m just going to have to come back tomorrow, maybe even Sunday.” He laughed. “I’m totally hopeless.”

“Don’t say that,” I said, being stereotypically positive. “I think you’re doing great. Did you ask Mr. Gonzalez what your grade was?” He asked every Friday.

“D-plus,” he said with his typical furrowed brow. He sighed and began tossing books into his bag (which I told him he needed to start carrying). I stood silent for a moment, contemplating what I should say. “If he wasn’t such a dick and took late work, I wouldn’t have to stress so hard over this.” I wanted to make him feel like the work he was doing was valuable. I saw that he was improving; I just wished he could see it too.

“You’ve got to think about it like you’re lifting weights, you know? You could barely lift anything at the start, but with hard work and dedication you can lift things you never thought possible. You had a thirty percent two weeks ago, and you’re telling me you’ve been able to get that up over a sixty-five? Just imagine where you’ll be in just one more week, a month from now, even. You’ll have the buffest, strongest grade ever.”

“You think so?” he mused. He sat silently for a moment as he pondered what I had just said. He smiled. “I guess you’re right. Thanks Oliver.”

He lifted his hulking frame out of my desk chair and strode over to where I stood. He wrapped me in his beefy arms and gave me a bear hug. I could feel my entire body tingle in pleasure as I felt Mason for the first time in forever. I didn’t dare ruin it by trying to hug him back. My hands at my side, I could feel his warmth, I could smell the chips he ate and the aftershave he wore. They mixed together in a scent that was uniquely Mason. His arms were so solid, as was his slight gut. It was so brief, but it made me the happiest guy in the world. “You have always been the smartest person I know.”

“Thanks—thanks a lot.” He let me go and grabbed his bag. “Do you think you might want something more substantial to eat tomorrow or just a snack? I could definitely make you a meal if you wanted.”

I was doing way too much. The snacks were one thing, completely hospitable, but now I was offering to make him dinner? Did Bret do things like this for him? His other football friends? I was not being very hetero.

“Really?” he asked, shockingly excited. “Do you remember in sixth grade when you wanted to be a chef?” I spent that entire year working through a kid-friendly cookbook. I even started going off-script, coming up with some of my own recipes (though they were just derivative of other things I’d learned from the cookbook). I doubted Mason knew he was the reason I wanted to learn how to cook.  

“Yeah,” I said. “I cooked a different recipe every day for like nine months. You ate dinner at our house every other day before eating the dinner your mom made.” He laughed at the memory.

“I gained like twenty pounds during that,” he started, “but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. You’re the reason I was able to grow up big and strong.” He rubbed his gut absent-mindedly. He was always doing that, and it drove me damn near insane.

“Stop playing,” I said, laughing.

“I’m serious!” he said. We began walking down the stairs towards the front door. We continued planning for the following evening of studying. “I want that chicken and cheese thing you made. Now that was delicious.”

“I could do that.”

“How’s seven for you?” he asked. “I’ve got to help my dad in the shop for a bit and then I’m gonna go lift with Uncle Galvin.”

“That works for me,” I said. “Sounds like you’ll be hungry.”

“Hell yeah,” he replied enthusiastically. “Night Oli.”

“Goodnight Mason,” I said, closing the door behind him.

What was my life? Just like every night after he left, I had to take some time to masturbate. When I finished, I saw it was almost ten. My mom would be back soon. I’d watch whatever was on the Food Network and think about seeing Mason again until she got home.

As happy as I was, I couldn’t help serving myself a much-needed reality check. I wanted to believe that things were going great. We were spending lots of time together and vibing really well. He actually remembered the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. But we still didn’t speak to one another at school. It was like our relationship existed solely in my bedroom. How well could things be going for me if I was just the gay nerd who overfed him and made sure he didn’t fail English?

I woke up around six the next morning. I was definitely an early bird, getting that worm and whatnot. I took a quick shower and styled my hair. It was thick and black. I used a coconut oil cream to make it curl. It was kind of short, only about three or four inches long, but I thought it looked pretty decent. I had brown eyes and brown skin. My complexion was the color of a caramel hard candy. Both of my parents were black. My dad’s parents were from the South. My mom’s mother was from Jamaica and her dad was from Philadelphia. 

I grabbed the basket for my bike and sent my mom a text. She wouldn’t be up until around eleven, and even after that she’d be out of the house running errands before work. I was going to the store for the ingredients in my dish.

It wasn’t that long of a bike ride to the grocery store, and I’d been making the trip more frequently since I decided Mason needed to be catered to with each visit. I shopped for a while, budgeting things out, and choosing other side dishes. I got everything on my list and remembered I wanted to pick up some ice cream for after dinner. I was going to get a pint of Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion. It used to be Mason’s favorite flavor, and I was willing to bet he still loved it.

I turned back and made my way to the frozen food section. It was near where they kept the eggs and milk and cheese. I noticed Bret with some serious bed head grabbing a gallon of 2%. I snatched the ice cream from the freezer and ran for the checkout, praying he hadn’t seen me. I wanted to hurry the cashier along, but she was a kind older woman who had always been nice to me.

“You sure do grocery shop a lot,” she said, laughing. “You’re such a little thing, but you eat so much. But that’s how young men are. Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite.”

I conversed with her, trying my best not to appear rude, but I really didn’t need to encounter Bret on the weekend. I paid for my stuff and left the store. I went and unlocked my bike, setting it upright so I could put the groceries in the basket.

Before I could take off, I felt someone grab the hood of my hoodie. I fell backwards, my bike falling to the ground. The food rolled out onto the sidewalk.

I looked up from the pavement at Bret smirking down at me. He had on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a Jackson High football sweatshirt. I normally would have just taken whatever beating he had for me, but I was fed up. Today was supposed to be a good day. I was going to make Mason his food and he’d compliment me, and I could live in my delusions for just a little while longer.

I got to my knees before standing straight up. I pushed him as hard as I could, and he stumbled back slightly. “Leave me the fuck alone!” I shouted, kind of embarrassed by how high my voice got.

“Oh, it’s on, you fag,” Bret spat at me. He set the jug of milk he’d been carrying on the sidewalk. “I’m sick of looking at you and your pink fag bike.”

“My bike is red,” I shouted. I didn’t say anything else, and I had no idea what I should do next. We looked at one another intensely.

“Red,” he said as he drew me closer to his body, yanking on my hoodie. “Or pink,” he continued. Punch in the stomach. “You’re still a fucking homo.” Punch. Punch in the mouth. Punch. Punch in the nose. Punch in the cheekbone. Punch. Another punch in the gut. I was panting as he threw me to the ground. I thought I was going to barf. 

“Fuck—you—,” I managed to get out, catching my breath. I had gotten used to my one punch in the stomach a day. This was taking me back to sophomore year when our altercations left me with a new bruise every day. He didn’t seem phased by what I said, just continuing to smirk at me.

“I sure am glad I drank the last of the milk now.” He laughed, stooping to grab his milk, and walked over to his Dodge Charger.

I gathered the scattered items and checked to make sure they were all okay. They were. I put everything back in the basket. I took a few deep breaths before mounting my bike. I rode home and took another shower.

I didn’t want to dwell on the experiences of the morning. I put on some music and spent the rest of the time before I had to start cooking doing laundry and other chores around the house. One beating didn’t mean the world had to stop moving. This was nothing new.

I started cooking around five-thirty, so it would be ready when Mason got here. About five minutes after seven the doorbell rang.

“Hey Mason,” I said, happy to see him. I smiled a little too wide and felt my lip begin to bleed again. It was only a little. I licked the blood away.

“What the fuck Oli?”

“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” I got beat up all the time. This really was not a big deal. After high school I would never have to deal with this sort of thing ever again.

“You look like shit,” he said angrily. “That’s what’s wrong.”

“You’ve seen me like this before. It’s no big deal.”

“It is to me,” he said, eyebrows furious. “Who was it? Who did this? I swear to God if you say Bret after I told him not to touch you anymore.”

“It’s fine, really.” I didn’t want to make this into a whole thing. I had spent the entire day trying to forget about it so that we could have a good time eating and studying together. I wanted him to just leave it alone. I wanted him to stop pretending like he actually cared about what happened. I’d been getting my ass kicked for over three years and he’d never so much as batted an eye.

“Oliver,” he pushed.

“The food is going to get cold, so let’s just go and eat.” I walked away from the front door towards the kitchen, hoping he’d follow. That was when he grabbed my arm. He pulled me close to him. We stood there for a moment. His strong, masculine hands held my upper arms firmly. He looked at my bruised cheek, my busted lip. He brought his mouth to my forehead and kissed it softly. It felt like we were standing there for hours but it couldn’t have been longer than thirty seconds. “Mason—.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. 

He let go of my arms and hesitated a moment before running out to his Jeep and driving off. Had he really just kissed me? I couldn’t believe it. I was pretty sure there was lip to forehead action.

After that Mason never called or texted me, and he didn’t show up to school on Monday. I managed to avoid Bret after school and decided to take Mason his homework. He really hadn’t missed all that much, but I really wanted to see what that kiss was about. I also wondered if he worked on the essay for English class at all. I hadn’t been busting my ass for him to start failing again. It was a longer bike ride, but I made it to his place in about twenty minutes. I rang the doorbell and Mason’s kid sister Agatha answered the door.

“Oliver! Oliver! Oh my God!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down before reaching out for a hug.

“Hey Aggy,” I replied, embracing her. She was thirteen now. I was eighteen, my birthday at the end of September, but Mason was nineteen. His birthday was in July. It was a secret I swore to take to the grave. It was the reason why he never invited classmates to his birthday parties growing up. When he told me about why, it was like something out of a Roald Dahl novel. It was like he was Matilda or something. Mr. and Mrs. Megalos had been remarkably busy helping members of their family immigrate, starting their auto repair business, and welcoming Aggy into the world. They straight up forgot to register him for school. They waited so long that the district said he’d have to wait for the following school year. Mason never told anyone how old he was. He didn’t want people to think he failed a grade. He also didn’t want people to think he had bad parents.

“I missed you so much,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“It’s good to see you too,” I said with a laugh. “We’ll have to catch up soon, but is Mason home?”

“He’s sick,” she said with a pair of air quotes. “I know he’s lying. Sick people don’t eat as much as he does. You can go upstairs.”

“Thanks.”

I made my way upstairs, shocked by how little had changed in their house in three years. I stood outside Mason’s door, nervous about having to discuss what happened on Saturday. What if he didn’t want to talk about it? What if he wanted to pretend it never happened at all? It was now or never. I opened the door to his room. I’d been so wrapped up in my thoughts I’d forgotten to knock. I shouldn’t have been so careless.

“Ah!” Mason yelped, looking over at me in his doorway.

He was naked, but that wasn’t the most outrageous part. There were a ton of reasons why he could be naked and alone in his room. This was his house after all. But he knelt at the side of his bed, dick in hand and a sex toy in his ass. It was definitely the hottest thing I’d ever seen in person, but still a major shock. His ass was just made to take phallic objects. There was so much of him to take in, from the powerful arms to the beefy ass to the bloated gut. I was frozen, staring at his dick and then the sex toy he’d removed from his asshole. He tossed it in a shoe box and shoved it under his bed.

“Oliver, close the door!” he said hurriedly. I turned around and closed the door quickly. He probably wanted me on the other side of it. “I can’t believe I didn’t lock the door,” he mumbled. “Fuck.”

“Mason, look, I’m really, uh—really sorry,” I said, turning back around and staring at him as he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. All I could think about was how big his butt was. He probably did a ton of squats. His legs were hairy, as were his forearms and chest. I could tell his sessions in the gym were paying off, seeing as everything about him was getting absolutely massive. But man, his gut had really grown. He was getting fat. Fatter than when he showed me his belly the first time. He must have been eating constantly. The after-school snacks I prepared for him couldn’t have been pumping him up this much. I knew he said he was bulking, but did he mean to be getting so large?

“I brought your homework,” I said. My voice was shaking. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I should probably go.” What was going on? He was into butt stuff? Was he gay? I’d heard that some straight guys were into anal. They’d have their wives and girlfriends peg them with strap-ons. I couldn’t process this right now with him in front of me. I turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called. “Can I have the work?” How was he so calm? I took off my bag and pulled out the folder where I’d put all the materials he’d need. I stood there, folder in hand, unable to walk towards him. He walked over to me, his dick still semi-erect bobbing freely in the basketball shorts. His thighs were like tree trunks. His chest was broad, and his nipples were slightly bigger than I’d seen on other guys, kind of puffy. Overall, he was looking much fleshier. I needed to focus.

“Sorry,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time. I handed him the folder with the assignments. He reached out to grab them and I took in his mammoth forearms. Mason was a man. He wasn’t my chubby best friend from elementary school anymore. “I didn’t come in on purpose. I swear.”

He had kissed me on Saturday. I remembered my real reason for coming over. I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring up now. I had to let it go. He was just some conflicted straight boy who’d put this and any other gay feelings behind him. He’d marry some girl, have some kids, and she’d peg him well into old age. Me and this whole situation would become a distant memory.

He moved closer to me.

I moved back slightly.

He moved closer to me again.

“Mason, what’re—?” I didn’t know why I came here. I should have just ignored it. He dropped the folder on the ground and pulled me closer to himself.

“I haven’t been honest with myself,” he whispered, looking at me seriously. “Or with you.” I swallowed. He kissed me—on the lips this time. I felt them for the first time on my own lips. This was authentic lip to lip action. I wanted to grab his ass. I wanted to touch his belly. I wanted everything with Mason, but something was stopping me. He pulled away and looked at me again. “I think—I think that I’ve always wanted this.”

He was waiting on me to say something, and I could tell he started to worry. As much as my body ached for him, my mind was conflicted.

“I should go,” I whispered softly, afraid of how’d he’d react to this rejection. It was clear I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. He just took a step back, his lower lip trembling like he was about to cry. I was an idiot. I left his room, closing his door behind me. I was moving pretty quickly now, needing to put as much distance between us as possible so I could clear my head.

“Later Aggy!” I called, opening their front door. I was on my bike and out on the street in a matter of seconds. I pedaled hard, so hard I could feel the burn in my legs.

I made my way home and into my room. I wouldn’t be able to think with the erection I had. I was rock hard the entire bike ride home. I had always been an avid masturbator, but recently it had gotten out of hand.

When I finished, I tried to make sense of the situation. It wasn’t as simple as Mason and I being able to fool around. Where were things going to go now? Would he come out? Would he want to date me? If Mason just wanted to experiment with me, I couldn’t do it, even if part of me wanted to be used by him. I’d spent the last three years allowing myself to be mistreated, and I was not ready to swap one form of degradation for another.

I finished my homework in a daze, not too sure of what I actually completed. I went to bed feeling absolutely miserable.

The next day, I avoided Mason like the plague. I felt wrong, like he really had been sick, and he was making a huge mistake. I went the whole day avoiding him. I didn’t even look in his direction, so I had no idea if he was looking in mine. After school I made my way to my bike. I had to get home. I just needed to be alone to think some more. I set down my bag and started to put in the combo for my bike lock.

I fell forward.

Someone had kicked me in the back as I was kneeling. I turned and saw that it was Bret. Of course it was Bret. He wasn’t alone today. Standing slightly behind him were these other football guys named Bill and Zeke. I wished my eyes were deceiving me, but Mason was there too, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. I tried to finish unlocking my bike, but Bret kicked me again and I fell forward once more. I looked up at Mason, the giant I had idealized for so long. He looked away. Bret said something obscene, but I was too intensely focused on Mason to catch exactly what was said. Our eyes met and we stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.

I hated Mason.

I stood up after finally getting my bike unlocked. I mounted it and tried to ride off. I was stopped and pushed over. I wondered why no teachers or staff members tried to intervene. There had to be at least one nearby. I had ripped my jeans when I hit the pavement. I tried to get up. They were all calling me names and laughing. Mason stood silent, their all-powerful leader.

I tried to ride off again and this time I got away. I was crying, but I was too far away from them to see me. I felt like I was nothing, an empty shell peddling home. Mason was—I didn’t know what he was. I didn’t know who he was anymore. We had gone down two completely different paths, and I had thought they were meeting back up. It was stupid of me to believe that. Our paths were only going to continue diverging.

I went around back and put my bike away before going inside to think about Mason some more. The way he looked away when I needed him had me seething. I pulled off my sneakers and the ripped pair of jeans. I hadn’t cut my knee at all, so that was something to be happy about. The doorbell rang. I sat on the sofa hoping they would go away. The bell kept ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

They weren’t going away. I was reaching my boiling point. I just needed to be alone, at least for an hour or so. I ran to the door and pulled it open aggressively.

“Can I help you—?” I asked, before registering who had been ringing the doorbell.

“Hey.” It was Mason. “Can I talk to you, please?” He looked down at my legs. I was in nothing but a t-shirt and pair of black briefs. I didn’t even care. I was still livid.

“What?” I asked harshly. “Did you come to beat me up too? I could have sworn you made the first move yesterday. But if you find it appropriate to pin all faggish activity on me I’m willing to carry the burden.”

“I’m so sorry, Oli.” I felt myself weaken. No. I needed to remain strong. His eyebrows were furrowed; his eyes were sad. Those sad, green eyes had gotten their way numerous times when we were younger.

“Okay, I accept your apology.” I began to close the door. “Goodbye.”

“Wait!” he called, using his weight to keep the door open. “I’m not finished. Can I come in?”

“No,” I said, trying my best to stand my ground. “I hope you fail English. I hope I never have to look at your stupid face ever again.”

“Oli,” he pleaded. He looked at me again with those sorrowful eyes. I hesitated for a moment, but then I moved out of the way so he could enter the house. He brought his beefy frame through the door.

“I’ve got to know,” he started, blushing. “Why did you run out yesterday?”

“Huh?”

“Yesterday, when I was, you know—uh masturbating.” I stood silent, unsure of what to say or what he wanted to hear. I really wasn’t too sure what his angle was anymore. Did that incident mean something to him or not? “Is it because you don’t like how I look? I know I’ve gained some weight. I’m just trying to get some more size, and I’ll lose the extra padding eventually. I’ll start losing it right now if that’s what it takes for you to be attracted to me.”

“Your appearance has absolutely nothing to do with why I left yesterday,” I said honestly. He really thought that was the only reason I left? Had he not considered the entire situation? The last three years of our lives?

“It doesn’t?” he asked, taken aback. “Well, I’m not sure but I think I might be—you know, gay. And—and I have all these feelings for you. Hanging out with you again has only helped me confirm what I knew all along. I missed my best friend, Oliver.”

“Mason—,” I started before he cut me off.

“I’m probably not even your type. That’s so fucking pretentious of me to assume you even think I’m attractive.”

“Mason, listen,” I said, looking him in the eye. “I always believed you didn’t mean to hurt me. I held out hope that we could at least one day be friends again. But the thing that happened Saturday, and then walking in on you yesterday. It just made me angry.”

He was still looking at me seriously, taking in everything I was saying, really trying to hear me out.

“Angry that you felt you couldn’t have talked to me sooner. Angry that you thought we could just sort of hook up? I don’t really know what you thought, but it doesn’t feel like you even tried to think about me at all.”

“You’re all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, his eyes watering. “I fucked up. I’m a pussy. I’m sorry Oliver. I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t take it, looking at him with tears streaming down his face. I’d never seen such a big man cry before, and it made me feel like I needed to give him a hug. But if I didn’t stand up for myself now, I’d always be walked all over.

“When you asked me to help you with your English work do you remember what you said to me?” He shook his head no. “You told me that you didn’t want people to know you were associating with me. I felt so worthless, but I did it anyway because—because you’re still one of the most important people in my life.”

“I’ll never make you feel worthless ever again,” he said, his voice serious and honest. “I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance.”

I crossed my arms, considering what he said. I believed him. I was scared that I believed him. What if I trusted him and got hurt even worse than before?

“I want us to be together,” he said, sniffling. “Being with you makes me feel good, and I want to feel good all the time.”

“I—I think that I want to be with you too,” I said, looking away from him, unsure of if it was a good idea to relent so easily.

“Really?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

It was building up inside of me, the love I had for him, the confession that had been left unsaid years ago. I felt it coming out, like word vomit.

“I love everything about you,” I started, still unable to look at him, “the way your eyebrows do that thing and the way you eat and don’t stop. And if you like bulking and powerlifting I don’t mind that. I think you look amazing and—and, I don’t know, Mason, if you gained more weight, I would still be attracted to you. Get as big as you want, really.”

“You’ve got to be kidding, Oliver. You’re probably one of the best-looking guys in school and you’re attracted to me? Girls hate that you’re gay.” He took a deep breath. “I have never felt the same about girls that I do about you. I think about you every day.”

“I’m not kidding,” I said, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re hot and—and I would even want you to get bigger. I don’t know how to explain it, but the fact that you’re getting bigger makes me really—you know.” I felt like such a weirdo. So much was happening all at once. “I’ve never thought you’ve looked so good.” It felt like the time I told him I was gay. I wondered if he’d just walk out like he had then.

“You’d be okay with me being bigger? For real?” he asked. I felt a slight amount of relief. He hadn’t walked out.

“Yes,” I said, my body tense with nerves. “I would.”

“I like this, being bigger. I always have,” he said. It was silent for a moment. “I want to be bigger. I want to get stronger. This size is something I would’ve never gotten if I kept playing football.” He laughed nervously.

“What?” I asked.

“You sure you’re okay being seen with some big monster?”

“I don’t think you could ever be a monster.” He walked towards me and kissed me so fast I almost fell over. He was huge, like a big teddy bear, and I loved it. I really did, a hundred percent. He laughed, kissing me through the tears on his face. He held me close to him, my dick pressing against him through my underwear.

“Now what?” I asked.

“I guess you’re my boyfriend,” he said seriously. “If you’re okay with that.”

My whole body felt intensely warm. It was like I was in a dream. Maybe I was. Maybe I’d crashed my bike on my way home and I was in a coma, my consciousness somewhere between earth and the great beyond.

Something weighed heavily on me and I was afraid to bring it up. I wanted to squeal with joy and cry tears of relief, but I had to make sure we were on the same page. I didn’t want to end up hurt and alone.

I was quiet, not sure how to ask Mason what was on my mind. I think he hated when I got all silent like this. He was a much more direct sort of person.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s just—am I, uh—is this a secret?”

“No,” he said, eyebrows serious. “I hate you even had to consider that. You’re never going to be a secret in my life ever again.”

I was his boyfriend.

He was my boyfriend.

We were boyfriend and boyfriend.

The next day in school Mason talked to me in every class. He sat with me at lunch. He stopped at my locker with me. He was trying very hard to prove to me that he was serious. He meant what he said about making it up to me for the last three years.

“Mason, what the fuck is your problem?” Bret asked disgustedly. “This whole day you’ve been acting weird.” Bret looked over at me, obviously insinuating that I was what was weird. English class had just ended, and Mason was going to give me a ride home, and not because he wanted something from me, just because he wanted to be around me. I hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

“What do you mean?” Mason asked, feigning ignorance.

“The fag, Mason. The fag.” Bret spat the word fag like it was a disease.

“I don’t think you should use that word anymore. Don’t be that guy.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to hear you using that word or making jokes or putting your hands on Oliver ever again. You or anybody else, so spread the word.”

“Are you in love with him or something?” Bret asked, trying to get a rise out of Mason.

“I might be, yeah,” Mason replied seriously. Bret’s eyes widened before he began to laugh hysterically. “We’re dating.”

“Mason, you are hilarious.” Mason leaned over towards me. He brought his face incredibly close to mine before he touched my lips softly with his own, kissing me. It was a gentle kiss, nothing too intense, but it made me feel exposed. I’d barely kissed anyone before and never in public. “You’re taking it too far dude. That was gay as hell.”

“Probably because I’m gay.”

“You’re—you’re not joking? You’re a fag too?”

“Yep,” Mason said, wrapping his beefy arm around me. “And watch your language, dude. There’s only so many times I’m going to tell you.”

Bret ran off, probably to go tell someone. By tomorrow every single person in the school would know. I wondered what people would say. I hoped Mason would be all right. Maybe that hadn’t been the smartest decision.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, still thinking about him kissing me in front of Bret.

“It’s not like you’re my secret boyfriend.” He smiled and I melted.

He took me home and we went inside. We were going to study and hang out for a while. He told me that he wanted to spend so much time together that I’d get sick of him. I told him that’d never happen. And he said that meant we’d just be stuck with each other. We were in the second week of November, and the weather had cooled considerably. I volunteered to make hot chocolate and he happily accepted my offer. I also provided a plate of chocolate chip cookies I’d made the night before.

“Thanks,” he said as I handed him the drink. He sipped it carefully, making sure to collect the mini marshmallows. He must’ve gotten too excited because some of it spilled onto his lap. He stood quickly.

“Aw shit,” he said.

“Are you okay?” I asked, rushing to grab some paper towels.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “But I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of pissed I wasted some of my hot chocolate.” I laughed at his serious expression, telling him that I was more than willing to make him another mugful. We sopped up the bulk of the liquid with the paper towels, but he let me know he didn’t like the moist feeling.

“I don’t want it to soak into my underwear.”

He popped open the button of his jeans with a sigh of relief. He pulled them down and stood in my kitchen in a pair of navy boxer briefs. “I’ve got to get some new jeans.” He sure wasn’t modest. I was getting hard looking at his big hairy thighs. He could crush someone’s skull with those things. I kind of wanted my skull crushed.

“I don’t think I have anything that’ll fit you,” I said, still staring at his legs. “Maybe a pair of basketball shorts.”

“I’m good like this if you don’t mind,” he said, standing before me like a Grecian statue.

“No way. I don’t think I can control myself looking at you with your legs out like that.” He laughed, jokingly telling me that I was weird.

“They’re just legs,” he said, grinning at me. He’d always loved showing off, and I had always been a willing observer. “And who says you need to control yourself?”

“It’s not just your legs,” I said, getting excited. “It’s your ass. I’ve been looking at your butt for years.”

He turned, looking over his shoulder back at me. The fabric of his underwear separated each cheek, making his ass look even juicer. I wanted to take a bite out of it, my mouth watering at the sight of how much weight he was carrying back there. “If you’ve been checking it out for years, how’s it looking nowadays?”

“Phenomenal,” I said, zoning out. I was completely mesmerized. There was nothing that could break me out of this trance.

“You can grab it,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, like he didn’t know if what he said was okay. Was he testing my attraction to him? Who wouldn’t want to squeeze his meaty ass? I walked closer to where he stood, my hands cupping the ass I’d only ever dreamed of touching since I knew I liked men. I jiggled it slightly, impressed by how I could still feel the muscle underneath its fatty outer layer.

“It definitely feels bigger than I thought it would,” I said, still touching him.

“I do a lot of squats,” he said, laughing apprehensively. “I think it’s gotten bigger these last couple of weeks. Working out with my uncle and eating like I do has changed my body faster than I thought it would.”

He turned around, and I noticed he was hard. He looked down at his penis straining against his boxer briefs and then away from me, biting his lower lip nervously. I bet his muscle-gut blocked some of his lower half from sight. How long would it be before he wouldn’t be able to see his dick when he looked down?

It was nice that he physically reacted to me feeling him up, but was he expecting something more? Would he want to bottom? Was he prepared for that today? I had wondered when things would become more sexual between us. We’d known each other for so long, but not as sexual beings with lots of sexual urges.

I turned away from him, walking towards the freezer. I couldn’t take the awkwardness. I grabbed the ice cream from a few weeks ago that he never got to eat.

“Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion,” he exclaimed gleefully.

“Yeah, I thought you might like it.” I grabbed a spoon, handing it to him along with the pint of ice cream. The little container in his large hand was really cute. He peeled off the lid and dug into the dessert greedily. This probably wasn’t enough ice cream to satiate him. He walked casually over towards a counter, pressing his butt up against it. He leaned back and ate spoonful after spoonful. He licked the spoon slowly after each mouthful.

Was he putting on a show for me? Like when we were younger?

“That was good,” he said after less than ten minutes of eating. A now empty container sat on the counter next to him. He gave a satisfied belch and put his hands on his slightly bloated middle.

“You really know how to eat,” I observed.

“It’s probably weird,” he started, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, making sure not to meet my gaze, “but it kind of turns me on sometimes.”

“It’s not weird.”

I made my way to where he stood against the counter, reaching out and placing my hands on the sides of his middle. We both stood there, silently aroused. I could hear his breathing—in and out, in and out. I lifted his t-shirt. He rested his hand on my shoulder as I massaged his gut. He gave a satisfied moan that made my dick twitch.

“This feels really good.”

“It does?” I asked. I was on cloud nine, finally getting my hands on his gut after fixating over it for weeks. I could see he was getting hard, and I couldn’t believe he happened to be on the same wavelength as I was. I knew he said he liked being bigger, but I didn’t realize he liked it in this way.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” he whispered breathily, closing his eyes. He leaned his head back and grinned, unable to suppress the expression.

I was feeling bold, wanting to take further control of his pleasure. He could be in charge of everything else in our lives, but in this moment, I knew I was the one who could call the shots. I slid one of my hands down under his gut, sliding it into the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Is this okay?” I asked, wanting to get his consent before I continued.

He just moaned again, whimpering as my hand wrapped around his erection.

“Tell me you want me to do this,” I commanded.

“I want it, Oliver,” he whispered. “Please don’t stop.”

He slid his thumbs into his waistband and pulled down his boxer briefs, so I had easier access to his penis. It was above average size and thick, but I was bigger and for some reason that really turned me on. I stroked him gently, enjoying how it pulsated in my hand. I noticed he relaxed his stomach muscles and his gut pushed forward some more. I looked up at his face and he looked back, his eyes glazed over. Fuck, was that a hot expression.

I stopped for a second, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling out my own dick. I stroked us both off, moving nice and slow. With both of my hands now occupied elsewhere, Mason took it upon himself to massage his stomach.

“That belly is looking real good,” I said, watching his expression carefully. He looked—pleased! His eyes were closed, but he got that grin on his face again. He grabbed his gut by the sides and gave it a shake.

He was close and I could tell. Seeing him so aroused was turning me on more than I thought possible. I was going to push him over the edge.

“Fuck Mason, I can only imagine how big your gut is gonna be a few months from now.”

It was a risk, but it paid off. He shot a huge stream of cum across the kitchen floor. He looked at me now, his eyes still had that glazed-over look and he fell to his knees. He grabbed at my jeans, pulling them down along with my underwear.

“Whoa, Mason, what’re—?”

He licked the head of my penis holding the shaft in his somewhat rough hand. His mouth was warm, and he worked my dick with unexpected finesse. Looking down at the top of his head, I took in his curly brown hair. I couldn’t believe this huge beefy guy was on his knees giving me head. I also couldn’t believe this huge beefy guy was Mason of all people.

“Mase, I’m coming.” He removed my dick from his mouth, and I felt cum erupt from inside of me so forcefully I got lightheaded. It wasn’t until I was completely finished that I was able to take in what had occurred. Mason was still on his knees, his face covered in my cum. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice low. He didn’t seem like everything was okay. He got off of his knees, pulling up his underwear. We cleaned up in silence. He got my cum off his face, and I got his cum off the floor. He was the one who broke the silence. “That was weird.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, kind of,” he said, looking down at the kitchen tiles. “What was with that stuff you were saying?”

“Did you not like that?” I asked, feeling less confident than I had been during our sexual encounter. Things were shifting back into their regular alignment. Me being awkward. Mason being intimidating.

“I just—when we talked about me being bigger, you didn’t just mean muscles, did you?”

“I—I, uh, there’s nothing wrong with being bigger.”

“Were you just saying that because you figured out that’s what I’m into?” he asked. “You don’t have to, like, force yourself to be attracted to me like this.”

“Mason,” I started, “I think it’s more than obvious we like the same thing. I don’t know how we lucked out like this, but that gut you’ve got is definitely sexy.” He just laughed.

“Oli, c’mon,” he said. “You’re legit gorgeous. You could be an underwear model or something, I mean, damn, your quads are amazing.” I laughed. He reached out, grabbing my arm, and pulled me forward. He rested his masculine hands on my ass, like I had always wanted. “And this bubble butt is something else.”

“I’ve got to know Mason. When did you start thinking you might be gay?”

“The day you told me,” he said. I pushed myself away from his solid body.

“What?”

“Yeah, you coming out to me was really confusing. And I figured I should avoid you for a little while to figure things out—I didn’t think it’d be three years though, sorry.”

I just laughed. We’d missed out on years together. There really was nothing to do but find the humor in the situation, because otherwise it would be too sad to think about.

“I started watching gay porn freshman year and I bought that sex toy about a year ago.”

“You’re something else,” I said. “I guess that’s why I like you so much.”

He smiled and it just felt like it got easier to breathe. I ended up making him another mug of hot chocolate before throwing his jeans in the washing machine. Being domestic with him was turning me on, but then again, anything involving Mason was a turn on. I was starting to feel more peaceful. Mason and I would keep talking and figuring things out about this relationship. We had time. We finally had time.

Christmas break came after what felt like an eternity. Of course, people were talking about me and Mason. We could hear their not-so-whispered remarks every single day. He ignored it and held my hand through it all, which really meant a lot to me. He was an incredible person.

Mason had been so liked by everyone, that it was odd to see his old friends ignore him or mumble fucked-up things under their breath when he was nearby. I didn’t know how he could take it, falling so far from the graces of the popular crowd. I had always been on the outskirts, so I couldn’t really understand what he was going through.

We’d made it through Thanksgiving unscathed. It was a little sad we couldn’t spend the holiday together, but Mason hadn’t come out to his family and I hadn’t told my mom we were dating. He’d pushed himself incredibly hard these last couple of weeks, so if he wanted to ease into telling his parents, I wasn’t going to complain.

But that tranquility Mason was experiencing at home was short lived. If the entire high school knew Mason was gay, there was only a matter of time before word got back to people’s parents. Those parents talked to other parents, and those parents talked to Mason’s parents.

The first night of break, Mason was confronted by his father about what he’d heard from a customer in his auto shop. I hated the look on Mason’s face when he told me this story. It was heartbreaking. It felt like it was all my fault.

Mason’s dad threw him out. Mr. Megalos took him up by the collar of his shirt and threw him out the front door. Well, he grabbed his collar, yes, and likely pulled him by it, but I doubted he could actually lift Mason to throw him anywhere. His mom let him back in of course, but he packed a bag and left. He’d shown up on my doorstep a little before midnight. It was obvious he’d been crying.

“They found out,” he said. And I knew. I knew his heart was probably in a million pieces.

“Oliver, who is at the door?” My mother walked into the foyer, wrapping herself in a fluffy robe. She’d gotten in from work about an hour ago and had just finished with some self-care. I was glad she’d just taken a bath, because I needed her to be in a good mood.

“Mom, it’s Mason,” I said.

“Well look at that,” she said, taking him in for the first time in three years. “What has Katerina been feeding you?” Mason gave a half-hearted laugh, and I grabbed his arm, pulling him into the house.

“It’s, uh, good to see you Ms. Bailey.”

“Mason, you can go up to my room while I talk to my mom.”

My mom raised her eyebrows at this, watching as Mason walked towards the rear of the house where the stairs were. That was when the begging began. She had me on my knees.

“You know he can’t stay here Oliver.”

“Mom,” I pleaded, my voice somewhat whiny. “He needs this. He’s my best friend. Please.” She laughed, and I knew it was because she didn’t consider Mason to be my best friend anymore. I hadn’t mentioned him in years; the last time she’d brought him up, I blew up at her.

(“Oliver, sweetheart, you don’t want to invite Mason to celebrate your birthday with us?” I was turning sixteen and I hadn’t talked to Mason in nearly eleven months.

She knew something had been off between us, as Mason hadn’t been to our house since I came out to him.

“It’s just another day,” I replied, feeling especially mopey. “He’s probably busy anyway.”

“I could call Katerina,” she suggested. “If you boys had a falling out, we can get things back on track. He’s been your best friend since first grade.” I was embarrassed. I didn’t know how to navigate how I was feeling. There was just so much shame and sadness that I hadn’t really taken the time to unpack.

“Can you just shut up?” I demanded. “We aren’t friends anymore, okay? It was my fault. There’s no way to fix it, so can you please just drop it?” I stormed off to my bedroom after that. I spent the rest of my sixteenth birthday alone crying in my bedroom. It was definitely a low. I knew the only reason my mom didn’t come after me was because it was my birthday. If it were any other day and I spoke to her like that, I’d probably be dead.)

“Oliver, we just can’t. You need to let his family work out whatever problem they’re dealing with.”

“Mom, if—if he can’t stay, I’ll leave with him,” I said, being dramatic.

“No, you won’t,” she replied, laughing. She was calling my bluff.

“I will,” I said, trying my best to win her over. “We’ll wander the streets, sleep in his Jeep. I might even have to become a prostitute to scrape by. We’ll drop out of high school. Do some drugs. Is that what you want Mom? I really don’t think it is.” I sounded like I was describing the plot of some made-for-TV movie.

“Oliver,” my mother said with a theatrical groan, massaging her temples. She obviously wanted to laugh at my monologue, which I knew would play into my favor. “If Katerina and Adrian come to take him home, we aren’t going to fight them on it, do you understand?”

She smiled at me gently. She was legit the best mother in the entire world. She probably only relented because she had just gotten in from work (and she’d had her bubble bath and a glass of wine). She worked as a nurse during a shift that went from three until ten-thirty, and that was when the hospital didn’t ask her to come in early or stay late.

“Yes, thank you!” I actually jumped for joy, clasping my hands together in gratitude. “You won’t even notice that he’s here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “He needs to sleep in your room because I don’t want him on my sofa. We just got that thing last year and the way he’s looking, it’d be sunken in within the month.”

I just laughed, promising Mason would not be allowed anywhere near her sofa. She likely assumed Mason was not gay. I knew right away that Mason had been outed to his family, but I didn’t make that information privy to my mother. When explaining why he needed to stay with us, I just sort of said his dad was mad about him quitting the football team and putting on some weight. I had been planning on telling her we were dating, but it was probably a good thing I hadn’t mentioned it.

“Okay, that’s fine. I’m sure he won’t mind the floor for a little while.”

“Goodnight Oliver,” she said, walking towards where her bedroom was on the first floor. The second floor was an addition, and the only thing up there was my bedroom and a bathroom. “Mommy is tired. They want me to come in early tomorrow, so you kids need to keep it down.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. “Goodnight best mom in the entire universe.”

“Yeah, sure.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling under her breath. “Tell Mason it was nice seeing him again.”

I made my way to the rear of the house and ran up the stairs to my room. I closed the door quietly.

“She said you could stay here until you’re able to work things out with your family.” I was smiling at him, but that excitement was short-lived. This wasn’t some slumber party. He was here because he couldn’t be at home.

“Thank God,” he said with a sigh of relief.

“She said you have to sleep in here,” I said in mock-apology. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll have to share a bed.”

“Well damn it,” he replied. “I guess if there’re no other alternatives.” He got off of my bed and walked towards me. He put his arms around me slowly and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him—which had gotten considerably more difficult post-Thanksgiving. I kissed him a little bit longer before pushing him away.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, trying to cull my arousal. We could not have sex right now. I felt weird about doing things like that with my mom in the house. I totally wouldn’t be able to focus.

“Yeah, I don’t really want to think about it,” he answered. “I’d rather make out with my boyfriend—among other things.”

“We have to wait until tomorrow, or my mom will hear and freak out,” I said seriously.

We’d masturbated together a few more times since the first experience in the kitchen. He’d given me head a few more times, and I reciprocated that as well. But we hadn’t done the actual deed. With him living here for an unknown amount of time, especially during winter break, we were likely going to go all the way.

“We can be quiet,” he whined. I was so turned on by the fact he enjoyed being intimate with me. Hearing him beg for it almost had me relenting.

“It will be better tomorrow,” I said, walking over to my laundry basket and throwing my shirt into it.

“Fine,” he pouted before smiling. “But don’t expect me to let go of you all night.”

We got into the bed and he kept his promise. At least for this night, the first time we ever were going to sleep together in the same bed, he had me pulled closely into his beefy body. My full-sized bed was just right, but at the rate Mason was growing, I didn’t think it would be just right for long.

I knew he didn’t want to talk about what happened with his dad, at least not yet, so we enjoyed one another in silence. Before long, I could hear him gently snoring behind me. He was very warm and that made me feel so calm, that before long, I was also fast asleep.

I was awake a little after six and immediately got up to take a shower. Mason was still sleeping even after I finished my shower, so I went to make him breakfast. I had made hash browns, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. He was still sleeping when I finished around nine.

I ate with my mom and she let me know she was going to spend the morning shopping with my grandmother. She would be home this afternoon to take a nap and get ready for work. After she left, I went to wake up Mason.

He sat up quickly when I mentioned there was breakfast waiting for him downstairs. He got out of bed. He was wearing a pair of gray boxer briefs and a white undershirt. His thighs were huge and strong looking. His ass was barely contained by the ash-colored fabric. His belly pushed the small shirt up a bit, around his belly button. His arms looked massive, and I wanted to grab ahold of them and never let go.

Breakfast. Breakfast. Breakfast.

“You can use the bathroom and come down for breakfast,” I said finally, regaining focus.

“Okay,” he said, sleepy eyed, scratching his tummy. He went off to the bathroom connected to my bedroom. I heard the flush of the toilet, then the sink turning on and off, and about five minutes later he exited the bathroom, face scrubbed, and teeth brushed. We made our way downstairs.

Looking at the table, there was a ridiculous amount of food for one person. Even with what my mother and I ate, there was way too much for Mason. I’d used almost an entire bag of potatoes for the hash browns. I’d have to get another carton of eggs, having used the ten that we had in the fridge. The toast was buttered, and the bacon was crisp. I’d definitely been excited while cooking, thinking with my dick and not my head.

“I realize now this is an excessive amount of food.”

“I didn’t get to eat dinner last night,” he said. “I’m starving.”

He wasn’t kidding. He really was.

Mason tackled the spread like a competitive eater. He took a piece of toast and carefully folded it in half before adding some of the other ingredients, making a sort of taco. He did this until the eight pieces of toast were gone. He then ate what was left of the eggs and hash browns with hot sauce. He drank two big glasses of milk too. I didn’t realize how much he could eat. I was sitting at the table across from him.

It was after breakfast. My mom wasn’t home. We could finally have at it.

“You ate all of it,” I said, touching my boner underneath the table. I was wearing a pair of running shorts that came about halfway up my thigh. I was easily able to access my dick.

“Yeah,” he said, his face going red. “I didn’t have dinner and I was really hungry and it tasted so good.” He placed his hands on his belly.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, tugging at the hem of his shirt, failing to keep it down. Majority of his clothes had begun to fit this way. “I guess you were wrong about the whole me getting fatter thing.”

“I was not wrong,” I said, standing. He took in my massive erection and smiled, relief showing on his face.

“We really are a pair of sexual deviants, huh?” I walked to his side of the table and grabbed his hand. He stood up, looking down at me for a moment. He scooped me up and held me in his powerful arms. We looked at one another for a moment. His eyebrows were so serious it made me laugh. He joined in and we laughed hard for a few moments.

“I got excited,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re so excited. It means it’s not just me.” Still in his arms, he made his way towards the stairs and ran us up to my room.

In a flurry, our clothing items flew off our bodies. His t-shirt, my shorts. My sweatshirt, his boxer briefs. We stood completely naked in the middle of my bedroom, and it was all sort of surreal.

“Oli, you’ve got a body like a porn star.”

“You may not be as defined as I am, but I’d much rather see you in a porno.” He laughed.

“We could be in one together,” he said, joking. “It’d be the only video I’d ever need for the rest of my life.”

I smiled at him, my hands on his waist. I enjoyed how he’d begun to spread out. His gut hadn’t been like this back in October. He was developing love handles, with little stretch marks around where his torso met his hips.

My hands moved to his biceps and he flexed them for me. My dick jumped at how solid his arms were, craving his body. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

He nodded.

I grabbed a condom and lube from a box in my closet. I didn’t think I’d ever get to use these things, and here I was about to use them with Mason. He moved onto the bed and he put his ass out for me.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked.

“No, but I’ve seen a lot of porn,” I said truthfully, almost half-regretting my honesty. “Have you ever had sex before?”

“No,” he said. “I hadn’t even kissed anyone before I kissed you.” I had made out with some guys before, but I didn’t want to spoil how sweet that was. Something about this whole situation was kind of empowering.

“I’ll be gentle,” I said, trying to be suave. Sure, I had seen my fair share of pornography, but seeing something and executing something were two very different things. I didn’t want to be bad at it. I was always the passive, quiet one and I had to admit, I enjoyed the idea of being the dominant one in the bedroom.

I lubed up my penis as well as his asshole. I slapped his butt, enjoying the sound it made. I did it again and he gasped softly. He arched his back a little, accentuating the size of his ass.

I entered his beautiful ass slowly. I started with just the head, not wanting to hurt him. He was breathing loudly, but it didn’t sound like he was in pain. I moved slightly, pushing a little more of myself into him, and felt a tingle go throughout my whole body. Mason continued gasping and whimpering and breathing loudly as I slowly pushed more and more of my dick inside of him.

“Christ!” he yelped. I stopped moving.

“Do you need me to stop?” I asked.

“Fuck, Oli,” he said, panting. “It’s starting to feel good. Keep going.” I did as I was told and bucked my hips back and forth, the sound of my upper thighs slamming against his fat ass creating a sort of beat. About halfway through he started tugging at his dick, moaning loudly as he came. That did it for me, and after a few more strokes, I filled the condom with my cum.

I was sure if someone were watching it would have looked awkward, but I didn’t care at all. I had never felt closer to a person. I had never felt closer to Mason.

Actual sex was way better than masturbating.

“Are you okay?” I asked, removing the condom and throwing it in my trashcan.

“That felt really good.” Mason was still panting. I walked over to the bed where he was laying down and laid next to him. “I was worried there for a second, but little Oli sure knows what he’s doing.” I laughed.

“That was possibly the best experience of my life,” I said. He rolled over on top of me, straddling me, and covered my face with kisses. I loved it.

“How much do you weigh now?” I inquired, feeling his weight pressing me down.

“Get the scale,” he said, swinging himself from on top of me. I got off of the mattress and made my way to the bathroom. I got the scale and set it in the center of my bedroom. He placed his large feet on the scale, and I read the number.

“283 pounds.” In less than three months, Mason had gained nearly sixty pounds. I was getting hard again just thinking about where he’d be three months, six months, a year from now. I stepped on the scale next, also getting off on how much more he weighed than I did. It read 160 pounds and a little extra. 123 pounds. Mason was 123 pounds bigger than me.

“You’re fucking tiny,” he said in disbelief, looking down at the number displayed on the monitor. “I never realized how little you are." I turned my naked body to face him and gestured to my flaccid cock, which admittedly, was still pretty big.

“I wasn't talking about that,” he said with a laugh. “I haven’t weighed 160 pounds since the fifth grade.”

“Do you not like me being skinny?”

“I find your skinniness to be quite the turn on.” He kissed me, grabbing my ass. “And if we’re being honest, you store all your weight in just the right places.” I didn’t know why that made me so flustered, but it did. I felt my face go hot. I liked that he thought I had a nice ass.

“I’d have to say the same goes for you,” I said.

“I hope to get much bigger,” he said, stepping back from me. He flexed his arms and I felt myself getting hard again. He knew what he was doing, turning me on. He turned around, so I could look at his wide back and juicy butt. He was damn near a wall. He turned back around and looked at me with extreme intensity.

“What’s with that look all of a sudden?”

“I want to be able to keep you safe, Oli. I’m going to be big enough to protect you from everything.” I was so turned on again. He was adorable.

“Thanks Mason,” I said, reaching out to embrace him. We stood together for a few minutes before we took a shower and got dressed. Throughout the day Mason ate all the snacks we had in the house. We went shopping and stockpiled food in my bedroom. He didn’t want to let my mother know he was constantly inhaling food. We did have to keep all the milk he got in the fridge. I wondered what my mom would say about it. Two weeks of him eating this way and he’d get huge.

Holiday break could only last the two weeks; I knew it could only be two weeks, and yet the morning classes were to resume, I was an anxious mess. Mason’s constant eating slapped another ten pounds onto his beefy frame, putting him at 293 pounds. Everyone was going to notice. He was gigantic. He was still incredibly muscular underneath his recent gain though, only making him appear even wider.

The only time Mason was away from me was when he’d go to meet with his uncle to lift weights. Galvin told Mason he didn’t care that he was gay, and that Mason’s dad would come around soon. It meant a lot to Mason that his uncle still supported him.

Mason’s arms were big and strong, and his thighs were probably so large to hold up his massive bubble butt. His belly pushed up all his shirts and buttoning pants was just a waste of time, so he wore sweatpants and the biggest sweatshirt he could find. I felt bad. This day was going to be bad. He looked good to me of course, but everyone was going to stir up trouble. I didn’t want to go to school.

He drove us to school that morning and things were fairly similar to the way they were before break. That’s not to say people weren’t making comments, but there was nothing too out of the ordinary. Things were actually bearable until lunch.

We sat together, eating lunch amidst the stares of our nosy classmates. I had a fruit salad, some fries, a grilled chicken sandwich, and a banana. Mason had bought three slices of pizza, fries, chicken tenders, and three milks. It was like he didn't care about what was happening at all—all the stares, all the names, the comments, and dirty looks.

“How are you doing this?” I asked, eating a few fries, but not really feeling all that hungry. My stomach was in knots. He was already on his second slice of pizza.

“Well, I mean you kind of move your mouth in a gnawing motion after placing food in there. Like this—,” he said, taking a colossal bite and chewing theatrically. I laughed loudly. He was so dumb sometimes, able to make a joke that could distract me from my negative feelings. He smiled at me and started on his chicken tenders.

“I meant all of the people,” I said, clarifying what I was sure he knew I was originally referring to.

“I just don’t care,” he said seriously. “I wasted three years of my life caring about what other people thought. It’s 2012. Being gay shouldn’t be this big of an issue. I let other people tell me being gay was wrong. I don’t see anything wrong with it.” He gulped down his second milk, nibbling at his remaining fries. His sweatshirt exposed a bit of belly as it set in his lap. “I love you, Oli. I just think about that and I don’t even notice everybody else.”

He loved me? I knew I loved him too, but we hadn’t said it before.

“I think I’ll try that,” I said. “Thinking about how much I love you.” I thought I was supposed to be the one thinking positive? I was proud to call Mason my boyfriend.

I opened my banana and heard an increase in laughter. I looked over at Bret pointing at me.

“You thinking about Mason’s dick?” he called, causing his table to erupt in laughter again. I forgot not to get a banana. I hadn’t eaten a banana at school since freshman year. I moved the banana away from my lips, visibly distraught. It was so embarrassing being made fun of in front of Mason.

“Can I have that?” Mason asked as he smiled at me. I handed him the banana. “Thanks.” He put it in and out of his mouth suggestively, making a ridiculous face as well. He then shoved the whole thing in greedily. He had me doubled over in laughter again. He was so absurd sometimes. He chewed and drank the last milk.

“Mase, you’re so goofy.”

“Thanks. That was so good,” he said loudly, for Bret and his cronies to hear. He smiled again, his eyes sparkling. Was I falling even more in love with him? He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “I’m still hungry. I think I got too used to you keeping me well-fed. I’m going to get a cookie.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a bite out of my sandwich. I felt better. Better than ever. I was almost done with my sandwich when Bret came over. That positive feeling didn’t stand a chance.

“What’s up faggot?”

“I don’t care what you call me.” I stood, looking to find Mason so we could spend the rest of the lunch period in the library. We could study for English. Anything would be better than having to stay around Bret for an extended period of time. Bret placed his hand on my shoulder and forced me back into my seat.

“I don’t give a fuck what you care about.” I looked up at him from my seat. He narrowed his blue eyes at me, making him look like a rat. This guy really hated me. I stood up again and turned to walk away, kind of afraid of what he was going to do to me. “I hate what you are. You did something to Mason.”

“Like what?” I asked, turning to face him. Did he think I was blackmailing Mason? Threatening him with violence? Casting love spells?

“I don’t know.” He took a cupcake from a tray on a neighboring table. He looked down at it for a moment, likely pausing for dramatic effect, before he slammed it into my face. “But I don’t like it.”

I’d spent years dealing with this sort of treatment from Bret, but for some reason this was actually getting to me. We were in the middle of the cafeteria and nearly everyone was looking at us now. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to take Mason’s words to heart. But he hadn’t experienced just how awful I’d been treated. I warily scrapped some of the frosting from around my eyes.

“Oh shit,” one of the girls nearby mumbled to the friend she was sitting with.

I turned, watching as Mason made his way over to where Bret and I stood. I saw his eyes travel from my face to Bret’s. Mason calmly set his cookies on the table next to me and pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. The whole cafeteria was silent. It was like every sound had been magically muted.

“Mason,” I said nervously, trying to pull him away from Bret. “We need to go study for the Spanish quiz. We have to go now.” Bret was no match for Mason, and everyone else was still too afraid to even try and fight him. Mason was going to get in trouble. He used to get into fights all the time. He had never hit me, but I’d seen him pummel other assholes.

Mason yanked his arm from my grasp easily. Everything happened so fast, but I don’t think Bret landed a single blow on Mason. After about three minutes, I saw Bret was all purple and bloody.

“Fucking bitch!” Mason spat, his voice intense like the roar of a grizzly. The school security officers were coming. “You lay a hand on my boyfriend again and you’re dead.”

“Come on!” I pulled his sweatshirt and he finally stormed out.

“I should have killed him,” he said angrily, nostrils flared. He was breathing heavily.

“Okay, so yeah, Bret’s the worst,” I started, picking cupcake out of my eyebrows, “but I don’t think life in prison is going to solve anything. It’s not worth it.”

“I know, you’re right,” he said, his breathing slowing. “I just don’t want you to get hurt by him anymore.”

“By a cupcake?” I asked jokingly, trying to calm him down further.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

He leaned against a row of lockers. This wasn’t going to go unchecked by the school. They’d call his parents over this. He might even get suspended.

“I forgot my fucking cookies!” he exclaimed angrily.

“I could totally make you some!” This side of Mason was really hot, but I knew he wasn’t feeling great about the whole situation. As sexy as angry-Mason was, I still preferred when he was happy.

“Let’s go.”

“Huh?” I asked, trotting behind him. He was making his way towards the exit. We ditched Spanish and English. I had never ditched a class before, and I felt like a fugitive.

He pulled up outside of my house.

“I’ll be back,” he said. I nodded and got out of the Jeep. He drove off. I had never seen Mason so upset. I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with what Bret represented. Bret was a past that Mason wanted to forget. I knew Mason still struggled with guilt about how things had been between us the last three years, and I tried to assure him I had let that stuff go, but I knew he thought about it a lot. I didn’t know how to emphasize to him I wanted to just move on. High school would be over soon, and I would get to start the important years of my life. He had read an article about teen suicide in the LGBTQ+ community a few weeks ago. He looked sick after he finished it. I remember he looked at me seriously and said, “You could’ve killed yourself.”

Mason returned. He had gone to the gym. I looked at him and saw his huge arms and thighs looked pumped. He went to my bathroom and took a shower. I sat on the bed waiting. He exited the bathroom in a towel. His belly hung over the pink fabric. He dropped the towel revealing a beautiful ass. He looked so huge. Bret hadn’t stood a chance this afternoon.

I was always semi-erect around Mason but looking at him naked in front of me had me fully hard. He walked over to me and sat next to me on the bed. He leaned his body against mine. I could hear him breathing. I felt him press into me bit by bit. He was kind of whimpering, like a big Mastiff puppy.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver,” he said.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” I placed my hand on his monstrous thigh, squeezing it gently. “You stood up for me today, and I’m still hard thinking about how hot it was.” He grabbed me, pulling me close and passionately kissing me.

He ended up on his back in the bed and I ended up giving him head. It was the least I could do for how he stood up for me. And Mason couldn’t help himself, so I ended up getting head in return. But then I couldn’t help myself and found myself with his dick in my mouth again. It was a cycle that I didn’t really want to see broken.

That fight with Bret didn’t go unchecked by school administration. Mason’s parents had to come have a meeting with the principal and the dean. Both he and Bret were let off with warnings, but the school made it very clear that they could not protect Mason from the law next time, considering he was nineteen and Bret was only seventeen.

He moved back home after that, which was honestly kind of sad. We’d only gotten to live with one another for less than a month. He and his father did finally start talking again, but Mason told me it was strained conversation.

Nobody messed with us again until Valentine’s Day. In our school there was a fundraiser where a person could purchase a flower to send to a friend or crush or romantic partner. Of course, I had never gotten one, but Mason used to get tons of them every year. I went to buy one and I wrote a card for it. I wrote: Mason, I love you. Yours forever, Oliver.

I thought it looked sophisticated and mature. I paid the two dollars, took the carbon copy receipt, and went to class. I wondered if he even thought about those stupid flowers. Then I wondered if he got me one. I was getting all excited thinking about it, but I knew to keep my expectations in check.

I met him before first period. We were working when the flowers were delivered. I didn’t expect one this period. They measured out the number of flowers a person was to receive and equally distributed them throughout the day. If a person were to receive only one rose, they’d get it during their last period of the day. But I got one anyway, in first period, which meant I had more coming. There was no name. It was a card with one word: Faggot.

Mason looked at me to see who it was from, but I quickly put it in my pocket. “I hope you’re not cheating on me,” he joked, smiling at me.

“Of course not!”

“Well, why can’t I see the card?”

“It’s mine,” I said. This was likely Bret fucking with me again. I could not let Mason know about this. He might actually kill Bret this time, and I didn’t very much think orange was Mason’s color. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” he replied sternly, his eyebrows furrowed. He was mad. Throughout the day I got the flowers with the same card. With each one, Mason got more and more unnerved. I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me. At lunch he didn’t say a word. He ate a lot extra so he wouldn’t have to talk to me. I didn’t want him to see them. We couldn’t afford another incident like when he beat Bret to a pulp over a cupcake. He’d go berserk if he knew what was happening.

We walked to Spanish in silence. I got another card, and it said the same thing, but with a name—Bret. Surprise, surprise. I knew it was him. Nobody else would go so far to harass someone. Mason gave me a look of death and I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach. I just wanted to go home. English came and I got my first nice flower all day. It said: I think you’re the best boyfriend in the world. Love, Mason.

I put that one in a separate pocket. Mason had gotten his first flower, which I was assuming was the one I purchased for him. He scanned it over and over. I hoped he liked it. Maybe it would make up for not showing him the Bret cards. I looked up at him and smiled. He stood up and stormed out; I followed. I heard Bret laughing as I entered the hallway.

“Mason! Wait up, what’s wrong? Mason!” He turned to face me. I saw he was trying to think about what to do. He pushed me into a locker, and it felt like he was getting ready to punch me.

“You—,” he started. He pulled out the card and read. “‘It’s over, Mason. I’ve gotten you back for three years of absolute torment. Did you really think I’d ever want to be with you, especially now? You’re a joke.’” Mason hadn’t stopped growing since moving back home. He was up another ten pounds, putting him at 303 pounds. I loved every ounce of him. I would never send that. I hoped he’d be smart enough to realize that.

“Please don’t hit me,” I exclaimed, flinching. He didn’t. Thank Jesus; he could have given me internal bleeding or something.

“I’d never put my hands on you,” he said angrily. Now he was mad and offended.

“I would never send that,” I said, pulling out the carbon copy receipt. “Look.” I handed him the card and he read it, looking relieved.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. He was getting worked up. I had a bad feeling. “I knew you didn’t send this, and it still got me emotional. I’m so sorry for pushing you. I’d never hit you. I swear I wouldn’t. But those cards you’ve been getting all day have really fucked with my head.” I reached into my pocket and handed him the cards. I hadn’t wanted him to see them, but at this point I had to be honest.

“These are the cards I’ve been getting all day, okay?” He read them and really went insane, heading for the exit.

“Mason, we’re going home, yeah?”

“Hell no. We are waiting for Bret and this is going to end today. Oliver, I’m going to kill him. I swear to God, I might just kill him.”

“You’ll get in trouble,” I said immediately. “No way.”

“Not if it’s after school.” That was ridiculous. He’d so still get in trouble. We passed through the doors leading outside as the afternoon announcements came on.

“You can’t do this Mason,” I said, trying my best to calm him down. “You’ve got to let this go.” The bell finally rang and two minutes later kids surged out of the building. He ran right at Bret who had been describing what he had done to two of his own beta-males. Bret was knocked to the ground.

Bret looked up at Mason from the ground. Mason was in a t-shirt alone. We hadn’t stopped at our lockers. The sleeves in the underarm area ripped with the advanced movement of his huge arms. Mason leaned over and punched him, harder and harder.

He stood straight up, hovering over Bret who was still laying on the pavement. “You ever fuck with us again, you’ll get your ass kicked worse than this.” There was a group around us, which formed a circle. Mason then spoke to them, turning every so often. It was almost like we were in the Colosseum, Mason a gladiator orating to the spectators.

“I like men,” Mason began. “But don’t let that confuse you. I can still fuck up anybody who steps to me or my boyfriend.” People were hanging on his every word. It was amazing.

“And this bitch over here,” Mason continued, gesturing towards Bret, “Has the weirdest fucking obsession with us. He went out of his way to send my boyfriend flowers all day today. I guess you could say he has a little crush.” This had people laughing now. “Babe, you should thank him for the flowers, but do let him down easy.”

“Uh, thanks for the flowers,” I said, uneasy having been put on the spot, but excited to be standing up to Bret in front of everyone for the first time. “But I’ve already got a boyfriend, so maybe you could find someone else.” The circle erupted in a resounding ‘Ohhhh!’ and lots of laughter.

“So who started this?” Mason asked the bloodthirsty spectators.

“Bret!” the crowd shouted. “Bret! Bret! Bret!” Mason started to walk off and I followed close behind him. The crowd parted so we could pass. I had never wanted to fuck him more than now. We could still hear people chanting and laughing as we made it to his Jeep.

Once inside, he drove towards my house, eyes focused intently on the road. His stomach growled loudly. There was a slight pause after the growling ceased, and then we both laughed loudly.

“Now I’m starving,” he said. I knew exactly what I wanted to make him.

As soon as we made it to my house, I started cooking. Mason went off to take a shower, saying something about needing to cool off. The whole situation with Bret still had him slightly heated. I was definitely still wound up from that encounter too, but not in the same way as Mason. Just thinking about how he’d stood up for the both of us had me soaking through my briefs. I’d been hard for some time now, ever since Mason’s whole ‘Are you not entertained?’ bit.

I cooked and cooked and cooked until I ended up making much more food than I thought we needed. It was just the two of us, but I’d made enough for five. I just couldn’t control myself when cooking for Mason. I loved seeing how much he could put away, how pleased his face would be when he ate an excessive amount of food.

I made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. It was a dumb concept that I came up with back in middle school during the early days of my culinary exploration. The main component was a mozzarella-stuffed chicken breast that I would deep fry. I served it with macaroni and cheese. And, even though I knew it was overkill, broccoli covered in a cheese sauce (I’d even made a dozen rolls, and no, they weren’t cheese stuffed). It was a lactose-intolerant person’s worst nightmare, but Mason had never had any problems with dairy. He probably couldn’t go on living without it. I made five of those chicken breasts, a huge serving dish worth of broccoli, and enough mac and cheese for a family of four.

About an hour later he came lumbering down the stairs. I’d just finished plating the food, with parsley and everything. He sat at the table, shirtless, and I took in his quarter-sized nipples. His pecs were still firm but had a nice layer of fat over them. My mouth didn’t water when I thought about dinner, but Mason’s tits had me almost drooling all over myself. I never would have thought he would be this big. I set his plate and silverware in front of him, and then the basket of rolls.

“I made too much,” I said.

“I don’t think so,” he said, smiling up at me from his seat at the table, “especially since you made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special.” I felt my face go hot. It meant a lot to me that Mason remembered the name of this meal, but I needed to come up with a new one. Something that wasn’t so embarrassing. I wasn’t twelve anymore.

“I’ll get you something to drink,” I said, walking towards the fridge and pouring him a glass of milk.

“Thanks.” He didn’t waste time getting started. He didn’t even use silverware to eat the chicken breast, simply picking it up and taking a large bite, pulling the meat away from his mouth causing an impressive cheese pull.

In this moment, watching him happily eat, I realized that Mason hadn’t really changed all that much since we were younger. Yeah, he was over a hundred pounds bigger and six inches taller, but he was still the same silly, considerate, sometimes hot-headed guy I’d always had a crush on.

I must’ve been staring, because he looked up from his plate, catching my gaze. He stopped racing through the food on his plate, eating more slowly.

“What’re you staring at?” he asked, chewing, stabbing a broccoli floret with his fork. “You haven’t even started eating yet.”

“I just really love you,” I said honestly. “I can’t help staring.”

“C’mon Oli,” he said, his face reddening, “You’re just trying to embarrass me.”

“I’m not!”

“Well, I love you too,” he said, his face still flushed. “I’m really lucky, you know? Who’d ever think a guy like you would be interested in me.”

Whoa—Mason was always surprising me. My initial assessment wasn’t completely fair to him. Mason had changed. In a way that was really significant.

He’d become more courageous.

He was brave enough to come out, to date me, to change his body in a way that wasn’t considered conventionally attractive. Even if all the things I loved about him from our youth were the same, I was fortunate enough to be able to love the man he was becoming as well.

I stood, going to refill his plate. He ate this serving just like the first, like if he didn’t get it all down fast enough someone might come and take it away. I sat down and watched, picking at the portion I’d set aside for myself. I wasn’t even hungry. I had no idea how he ate so much. He’d eat a roll every so often. I was able to refill his plate once more, and he ate that with the same amount of gusto. He got up the excess cheese that remained on the plate with the last roll.

“Fuck, that was just as good as I remembered.” He leaned back, placing his hands on his belly, rubbing it gently.

“Can—uh, can I do that?” I asked. He grinned.

“You don’t gotta ask,” he said, turning in the chair away from the table. He spread his legs, waiting for me. I went to the other side of the table as he pushed away from it. I knelt on the ground and rubbed his bloated gut, my hands traveling to his sides so I could squeeze the love handles pushed up by his underwear.

I moved toward his broad chest, squeezing the flesh there as well. Fuck, there was just so much of him. He was only wearing underwear, so I saw he was getting hard. I leaned forward, and began to kiss his belly, licking around his navel. His stomach tensed and relaxed.

“You like this gut?” he asked, his eyes closed.

“I love this gut,” I replied. His dick jumped in his underwear.

He stood, pushing me back slightly. I looked up from beneath his belly, and it made me think about that day at the bike racks a few months ago. I’d thought of him as a giant then, but compared to what I was looking at now, that version of Mason was minuscule.

Mason removed his dick from his boxers, and I leaned forward, resting my mouth at the base of his penis above his balls. I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of his skin after a shower. I licked his shaft slowly, raising a hand to feel the heft of his belly above me. It didn’t need my support, as it was a solid sphere that hadn’t gotten large enough yet to droop. I thought about that phrasing and it sent me to another level of arousal. Large enough yet. Mason would likely be bigger than this soon. 300 pounds was the point where most guys would fight to get their waistlines in check, but I knew Mason didn’t care about that. He’d want more, and I wanted to help him.

I heard him moaning above me, one of his hands grabbing my hair, the other on the side of his gut. “Fuck, Oli,” he grunted. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

I stopped and stood up.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.

He agreed to head up to my room, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing me ravenously first. He loved kissing, and I definitely wasn’t against it, but we hadn’t moved yet. Mason was still kissing me. On my neck. My forehead. My cheeks. He reached for his penis, but I stopped him.

“Upstairs,” I reiterated.

He nodded. His eyes had that glazed over look again. He followed me to the staircase, and as I ascended, I heard the stairs creaking loudly as he heavily padded up after me.

I wanted to fuck him with all I had. Each time I wanted more and more to have the best sex ever, and each time it was the best sex ever. I didn’t know if it was because we were getting better at it or the fact that our relationship was becoming so much more serious, but whatever it was, I hoped it continued.

He pulled off his boxers and leaned over my desk, his beefy forearms resting on top. His strong legs were spread apart, and his knees were slightly bent. In this position, his stomach seemed more noticeable. It hung down, round and bloated. I wanted to cradle it in my hands from behind.

I slid on a condom and carried the lube over to where he was waiting for me. I covered my dick in the slick substance before gently massaging his hole. “I’m ready,” he breathed. “I want it, Oliver.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed onto one of his love handles as I led my member inside of him. This ass was everything. I’m pretty sure he worked it out extra hard because he knew I loved it so much. Seeing my hands cradling his meaty cheeks was unreal. I didn’t have abnormally large hands, but he had such a massive ass, they looked almost feminine. I pushed my entire dick inside of him, thrusting back and forth more forcefully than I had before. He moaned and moaned—saying my name, telling me how good it felt. I felt the tingle I came to expect wash over me. I wasn’t sure if it was endorphins or what, but I was close to finishing and feeling amazing.

He took a sharp intake of breath, shooting cum across the front drawers of my desk. I pushed hard a few more times. I’d never felt so good before. I came loads, my legs turning to jelly for a few moments, almost causing me to lose my balance. “Aw, fuck,” I managed to get out, grabbing his hips gently.

We moved over to the bed and laid back. His belly moved up and down.

“That gets better and better,” he panted.

“I was thinking the same thing.” He rolled over on top of me. I loved that, the weight of his fat body pressing into me. It was incredible. He just laid there, kissing my face and neck until I had to tap out. He rolled back over, smiling.

The next thing I remember was waking up. We’d fallen asleep. It was now around eight. I tried to shake him awake.

“Mason,” I said. “Mason wake up.”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled almost inaudibly.

“Mason,” I laughed, “You can’t stay here. Your parents will wonder where you are.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” he said into a pillow. “Let them wonder.”

“But our homework,” I said half-heartedly, also not in the mood to complete any schoolwork or send him on his way. I got up and checked my assignment book. Nothing was due tomorrow. I locked my door and got back in bed. He turned so I could place my head on his chest. He had his arm wrapped around me. I could have stayed like that forever.

Mason dozed back off almost immediately, but I laid awake thinking.

We only had a couple of months left in senior year. I’d gotten into my first-choice university and all of my safety schools, but there was definitely something that had me reconsidering going away to a four-year university. I didn’t really have any idea of what I wanted to major in. Nothing in the traditional sense was appealing to me. I didn’t want to be a teacher or a lawyer or a nurse.

Being with Mason reignited a passion that had laid dormant for years. I loved being in the kitchen and perfecting different recipes. Attending culinary school might be what I want to do post-graduation. It might have been youthful optimism, but I could see myself one day owning a restaurant.

Mason was going to the college thirty minutes from where we lived. I knew there was a program near him that was accredited and offered lots of opportunities for growth. I could feel myself getting excited by this idea. I hadn’t even been this excited opening up my college acceptance letters. This passion had to mean something. It just had to.

I could do it. I would do it! I’d always longed for a life outside of high school, and now I was starting to see that life more clearly. Even if the future was a mixed bag of possibilities, I knew one thing for certain.

I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Mason.

The End!

#gainer stories #gainer fiction #gainer story #fatfiction #gainerfic #gainerstory #gay feeder #gay feedee #weight gain

[sweet-villain]

Shining Through ~ B.H

Anonymous asked:

hii can you do a billy Hargrove x reader with the reader being a figure skater but she’s like super good like an Olympic level figure skater and no one at Hawkins high knows that and she’s lowkey bullied but billy has a crush on her but doesn’t say anything cause he wants to keep his reputation,

but one day an ice rink opens up in Hawkins and everyone is going there even billy and his friend group,

And they see the reader walking into the rink and they think she’s gonna be super bad and they plan on embarrassing her but she ends up being really good and she’s doing jumps, spins and billy just falls in love with her even more and at the end they start dating?

Omg I’m so sorry that’s like a whole ass story I was just rambling you don’t have to do this😭😭😭

Author's Note : Lovely, this is such a cute idea. I love it, I don't mind that's it's long.

" Look who it is, it's the human version of a headache" Carol scoffed at the sight of you as you walked past her with Tommy and Billy by her side. You didn't pay any attention to them with your bag slung over your shoulder making your way to your locker.

" How can someone look like that?" she asked, she eyed the outfit of choice you wore today with a white skirt and a black cut down shoulder with your hair flowing down your back.

" I would explain it to you, Carol but I don't have the time or crayons to explain to you" you tell her looking over your shoulder as you grabbed your textbook for class. " Nice perfume, did you marinate it?" you asked as you smirked at her. She gasped ready to pounce at you when Tommy held her back.

Billy stood there in awe of you as you walked away with a smirk on your face. He watched the way your hips swayed and the way the skirt looked on you.

You turned to look over your shoulder just in time seeing Billy was looking at you. His blue eyes sparkled as he bite his bottom lip. He didn't want any girl at Hawkins High. He wanted you. You had quite a mouth on you and he liked the way you told Carol off just now.

He walked off into the direction you left as he remembered he shared the very same class you were going to. When he walked into the classroom walking down the aisle where you chose to sit near the window. He slides into the seat next to you.

" I don't think we've met princess" your head turned toward the sound of his voice. " I know who you are" you said as you opened your notebook and textbook waiting for the class to start.

" I feel like we got off the wrong foot. How about a date later and we start over? Sounds good?" Billy leaned back in his chair, some of his curls fell over his eyes and you wanted to reach over to brush them away but held back. Billy was an attractive guy, he followed in a crowd that you didn't particularly followed. You liked the same music as him, hearing it every morning as he parks his car in the parking lot. But you didn't know him and didn't plan to.

" No thanks, Hargrove" he frowned as his eyes roam the side of your face.

" You're missing out then, princess" he shrugs.

-

Through out the rest of the day it bothered Billy that you had rejected him like that. You don't know him and just wanted to show you a good time. But you knew the reputation he had since walking through the doors of Hawking High School. Every girl wanted to get in his pants and every guy wanted to be him. He had a beautiful blue Camaro which you admired from a far.

You threw your bag into your car, smiling gently seeing the ice skates you had in the back remembering the time you would used to ice skate a lot. The last time you ice skated was around a couple of months ago when you went to visit your aunt, they had an ice skating ring there that you spend hours there practicing spins, forward and backward spins were your favorite.

No one knew how talented you were except your aunt, your mother and your father. It's not like you were hiding it but Hawkins didn't really have an ice ring that you could just put your skates on and spend your time there. Away from everyone. Where you were able to be yourself.

" Are those ice skates?" Tommy peered into the window of your car, squinting his eyes seeing your bag on the passenger side seat. A pack of gum in the cup holder with a walkman laying near your bag that you forgot you left it there. He stood back up, squinting as the sun shined down at him. " I bet she doesn't even know how to" Tommy snickered. Carol walked up to him, and wrapping her arms around him as she leaned into him.

" Little miss mouthful has ice skates? I bet she doesn't even uses them and has them there to show off" Carol mutters. Billy is leaning against his own car watching them talk to you. He sees that you weren't responded to them with your arms wrapped around yourself. He moved from his car as he made his way over to his so called friends.

"Are you coming to Tina's party?" Billy asks you with a cigarette dangling in the corner of his mouth. Tommy and Carol look at you then to Billy, arching their eyebrows.

" I bet wanna be skater girl doesn't even know what a party is" Carol snickered.

" I have better things to do than some stupid party" you muttered going around the driver side and getting into the driver side. Billy makes his way over to your side as he leans on. You put the window down wanting to drive off as fast as you could. You didn't want to be here anymore.

" Drive safe, princess" he winks at you as you pull out of the parking spot and drive off.

" Do you have something for wannabe skater girl?" Tommy asks. Billy didn't answer him as he still was watching your car drive off. He wasn't about to tell Tommy that he somewhat had this crush on you that he shouldn't.

-

Your eyebrows knitted together as you listened to what has brought you out your studying. It was a noise against your window like someone was throwing rocks to grab your attention. You stood up from the bed making your way to the window seeing Billy standing there with his leather jacket on, his curls laid perfect on his head as his blue eyes shined as he looked up at you.

" What are you doing here?" you asked Billy as you opened the window. Billy had already started to climb the side of your house as he made his way to your window, crawling through it. You stepped back letting him in.

His head turned to look around the room seeing the posters of the music he listened too, he eyes your bed the held your notebook and textbooks, the looks over to the small desk in your room that held pictures, books and stickers on it. His eyes go a bit wide seeing the hanging of your old ice skates on the wall, the one your dad gave you wen you first wanted to start ice skating. He eyes the trophy's on the shelves seeing your name on them.

" Are you going to admire my room or what?" you asked with your hands on your hips. His gaze drop down to yours, " Nice room."

" I didn't know you knew how to compliment"

" There are a lot of things you don't know about me, princess" he makes his way to your bed as he plops down sitting on your notebook. He brings it from under him as he inspects your hand writing which is really pretty and neat. He throws it off the bed along with your textbook as he leans against the wall with his legs stretched out.

" What are you doing here, Hargrove?"

" Instead of going to Tina's party, you chose to study and be bored out of your mind? I really thought you'd be a party girl" you settled to sit down next to him, moving to sit next to him against the wall.

" I'm not like every other girl that just wanna throw themselves at you"

" I've noticed" he turns his head as his blue eyes meet yours. They are so pretty just like the rest of him. You spot freckles dancing across his nose and some on his cheeks. He smells of cigarettes, leather and something else too, like shampoo.

" Why did you come here, Billy?" He shrugs not really giving you an answer but his heart speeds up just by sitting near you. There was something about you that attracted you to him. He liked it and he wanted it to keep it like that.

" I like the way you don't let Tommy and Carol get to you, I know how people treat you Y/N. I've seen it all happen to you, you don't deserve it"

" Thanks" you don't really know what to say to him. Not really understanding why in the first place he was being like this. It confused you.

" You're beautiful Y/N and you're different than other girls. I like that" he mutters. " Billy?" He made a hummed sound hearing you.

" Why are you being like towards me?" He shrugs, but he knows why because of the crush he has on you that's turning into that he's into you. He wants you.

You place your hand on his knee causing a shiver down his spine and he glances down at your hand on his knee. It surprises him but at the same time he likes the feeling of your hand on him. He likes the touch. To your surprise, his hands falls on top of yours.

The two of you sit in silence enjoying each other's company.

-

When you heard from your mom that in Hawkins an ice ring was finally opening up, you felt like you could cry. You were beyond excited to get back on the ice. It felt like you were a little girl once again.

The ice ring began to fill with people and when you walked through the doors with your ice skates in your hand looking around with a wide smile on your face, you felt like you were at home. This was your safe place.

" Is that? What is she wearing?" Carol says as she snickers with Tina. Tommy and Billy turns to see you dressed in a light blue figure skating dress with your hair up, bouncing at the end as you walked around the ice ring.

Billy's eyes watches as the happiness reaches your eyes seeing the ice ring in sight. He leaned back against the wall as his eyes fall to the skates in your hands. He notices them shine under the light, they looked sharp. It look like you took the time to sharpen them.

" Is she for real?" His ears picked up Carol as she continued to watch you in disgust. He really want to say something but held his tongue, he watched as you sat on one of the benches to put your ice skates on and make your way to the ring.

He watches as you glide on the ice like you knew what you were doing. He saw the trophies in your room and the old skates you had on your wall. He didn't question you about it but he noticed that they were important to you just like what you were doing right now.

People spread to make room for you as soon as they seen you do toe jumps. Billy made his way closer as he watched you in awe, he watched the happiness in your eyes, he watched you as you skated with ease. He understood that this was something you were passion about it.

His mouth dropped as he watched you skate backwards, take off with one door and land on the other with ease. Other people stood to watch but Billy made sure he was the only one he wanted you to see.

It didn't even faze you on how many people were watching you, you had a huge smile on your face not evening noticing the look on Billy's face.

You pushed on one foot, shifting your weight to the other to create a circular shape. The figure looks like the letter "m" with another loop in the center.

Your favorite was a layback spin, a spin where you'd spins on one foot, with the other leg extended and pointed behind you and does a back bend with the upper body.

Cheers around you were heard as you stopped with wide eyes noticing how they were watching and your eyes catch on those blue familiar eyes and those dirty blonde curls. It's the smile he has on his face that catches you off guard. Your cheeks paint the color red as you stepped off the ice hurrying to get your shoes.

You reached down to untie your laces when you felt the bench dip underneath you.

" Didn't know you were that good, princess" Billy says. You look up to meet his eyes and he still had that smile on his face that made your heart flutter.

" That's not even the half of the things I could do" He titled his head, he was impressed. But his heart sped up seeing the smile you were giving him.

" Do you think you'd teach me some?" his eyebrow quirked up, you couldn't help but giggle.

" Billy Hargrove on skates? Doing spins and flips?" He shrugs.

" You don't know what you signed up for pretty boy" His cheeks are painted with red now as he looks away, he just wants to spend time with you and seeing you in your element makes him want you even more.

" Maybe this is what I want" he says as he turns to look at you, but his eyes drop down to your lip. " You need help?" he takes your leg and puts it over his leg to help you untie your skates.

" Oh, thank you" he takes them off and places them on the floor as his fingers run over the skin on your legs before he reaches for your other leg bringing it up. His touch sends a shiver down your spine.

" You're something else, Hargrove" his blue eyes lock with yours as he sends you that smile and you can't help it but reach over tracing your fingers over his lips. His breath hitches at the feeling of your fingers against his lips.

" It's a date" you tell him catching him off guard. " Huh?" He asks making you laugh. You point behind you, " The ice ring."

He nods, " Can't wait princess"

#billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargove imagine #billy x you #billy x y/n #billy Hargrove #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x female reader #jewls writes

[marcmarcmomarc]

Ruby telling this story in front of the whole Remnant Alliance, using Robyn’s Lie Detection to prove what she’s telling them is the truth, inspired by this post:

ROBYN: So what happened on the other side of the portals?

RUBY: Well, after I fell, I met a talking mouse I named Little, then we found Weiss and Blake captured by a whole village of talking mice whom we convinced to let them go, then we found Yang fighting a Jabberwalker while missing her arm, then we realized we were in our favorite childhood fairy tale, The Girl Who Fell Through the World.

OSCAR: That fairy tale actually happened?

RUBY: Then we went to the village in the Crimson Acre to bargain with the Jinxy Peddler for Yang’s arm.

EMERALD: You met the Jinxy Peddler?

VELVET: Was he cute?

WEISS: Yeah.

RUBY: And he was older than he was in the book. Anyway, toy soldiers won the arm, and we only got it back from them because Little tried stealing another “fine treasure”, exposing Jinxy’s treasures as fakes. The soldiers escorted us to the Crimson Castle, at first to arrest us for stealing Yang’s arm, or “royal property”, before I traded Penny’s sword, with a story of her being the greatest warrior to ever live.

REMNANT ALLIANCE:

RUBY: The occasion was the birthday of who we thought was the Red King, but turned out to be the Red Prince, who was more of a spoiled brat than Weiss was at Beacon.

YANG: (nudging Weiss) Heh-heh.

RUBY: Then we challenged him to a game of chess, where he shrunk the girls to the size of chess pawns, and when we beat him, he threw a tantrum and wanted us beheaded, and the Curious Cat rescued us.

NORA: The Curious Kitty?!

REN: Were they as chatty as the book made them out to be?

RUBY: Mm-hm. Not to mention easily distracted. Anyway, they took us to look for ingredients for a Growgurt Parfait in the Garden Acre, and we met a smoking caterpillar called Herb who drugged us into seeing our past selves via leaves from the Great Tree, which we all rejected, well, which the other girls rejected, I almost gave in, before the Cat stopped me, then got Herb swallowed by a hole in the ground.

TAI: You guys did drugs?

QROW: Whoa, whoa, don’t start drinking like me, girls.

RUBY: Anyway, the Cat led us to a market to keep looking for the Parfait ingredients. Along the way, they told us about Ascension, a process that occurs when an Afteran is no longer doing the assigned role that they are supposed to be, triggered by them losing their ways, wearing out, doubting themselves, or even just finishing their assigned tasks, upon which they are taken to the Great Tree and repurposed into someone or something else with a new identity, personality, and role. Their memories are erased in the process, but the heart barely ever forgets.

REMNANT ALLIANCE: Ooh.

RUBY: And then, the market was attacked by Jabberwalkers using Neopolitan’s Semblance. We had all of the ingredients for the Parfait, and the girls grew back to normal size just as we got assistance from the Rusted Knight riding his white rabbit.

WHITLEY: You know, Weiss had a crush on the Rusted Knight when she was a kid.

BLAKE: I think everyone had a crush on the Rusted Knight at some point.

RUBY: Well, things didn’t help when he turned out to be a grown-up Jaune with longer hair and a beard, who grabbed a fruit that sent him back in time twenty years right after he landed.

REMNANT ALLIANCE:

NORA: Oh, my Gods, Jaune.

JAUNE: I was stuck there isolated from other human contact, too.

YANG: Weiss certainly loved how mature he was.

RUBY: And the white rabbit was a jackalope Jaune named Juniper.

NORA: Aw, Jaune.

RUBY: Then Jaune told us his perspective on the Tree, that he believed it was death, that Alyx backstabbed her brother Lewis, the author of the fairy tale, who wrote the story the way he wished it had happened, and that the Cat couldn’t be trusted, then we got sent to a punderstorm, which creates a physical manifestation of a mental or emotional problem. Jaune, Weiss, and I were sent to metaphorical and literal crossroads, while Yang and Blake were sent to two broken, wooden, rickety bridges connected to a giant pillar they could only advance toward if they were honest about their feelings for each other. Yeah, Yang and Blake are girlfriends now.

REMNANT ALLIANCE:

NORA: See, Ren? I told you there was more going on!

KALI: Our baby girl found love?

TAI: With my sunny little dragon?

RAVEN: She really is your daughter, then, Tai.

RUBY: Then the Cat bailed on us after mistaking us for selfishly using them to get home, and once the storm passed, Jaune let us spend the night in his house in the Origami Acre, then he introduced us the next morning to a village of paper stars called the Paper Pleasers whose purpose was finished and kept trying to go to the Tree to gain a new purpose, but Jaune had been stopping them for as long as he knew them. Then Neo’s Jabberwalkers attacked, and while we were distracted, the Paper Pleasers finally managed to commit mass suicide via destroying the koi pond dam, then when the girls asked me to help comfort Jaune, I blew up at them for caring more about everyone else’s feelings or getting home, and taking my mental health for granted and ignoring my suffering…

REMNANT ALLIANCE:

WBY+J:

RUBY: …then I ran away, came across the Abandoned Acre, and entered a random mansion, where Neo had made clone illusions of Roman Torchwick, Penny, Pyrrha, Professor Lionheart, Clover, Professor Ozpin, and General Ironwood, and used them to physically and psychologically destroy me, and when the chaos was over, I didn’t want to be me anymore, not helped by Torchwick’s question: “Do you really think you can stand to watch more of your friends fall, or are you ready to admit the truth? That the world would just be better off without you?”

REMNANT ALLIANCE (passing tissues around):

RUBY: Then Neo offered me tea made from leaves from the Tree intended to wipe me from existence, then the Cat blasted her away, but then turned out to be evil and tried to possess me, then Neo fought them off and stomped Little to death, then I drank the tea, offing myself, and got swallowed by the Tree.

YANG: (tearing up) Oh, Rubes.

RUBY: Then I met a Blacksmith, who I also found at the market, or, rather, she found me, and then she presented me with a choice to either be someone else or myself. I saw my mom’s weapon and was treated to a vision of the night she left with Raven on another one of Ozpin’s secret missions and never came back.

TAI: (turns accusingly at…) Raven?

RAVEN: (sheepishly) Uh, surprise?

HARE: (to Ruby) Wait. What did you say your mother’s name was again?

RUBY: Summer.

HARE: (muttering) So, her uncle is Qrow, her father is Taiyang, and her sister’s mother is Raven. All are members of Team STRQ. Summer, Summer, Summer… (out loud) Summer Rose, the leader of Team STRQ, was your mother?

REMNANT ALLIANCE (walla): Summer?…Summer Rose?…The previous silver-eyed Huntress?…That’s Summer Rose’s daughter?

RUBY: Yeah. And then, I finally chose to be myself and grow into a better Huntress. And I. Came. Back, and helped the girls fight the evil Cat. And we won.

REMNANT ALLIANCE:

RUBY: And then Neo killed the Cat with the Jabberwalkers, who, by the way, are the only creatures to prevent Ascension if they eat Afterans. And, according to the girls, Neo was possessed by the Cat, and she chose to accept Torchwick’s death and undergo her own Ascension. Oh, and Little ascended, too, into who we called Somewhat, and succeeded Jaune as the protector of the Ever After. And then, we had made it to the Tree, and we walked through the door back home, landed inside the plane of the Tree met the Blacksmith again at her workshop, and when we noticed two statues of the Brother Gods, she told us their backstory. That the Ever After was overfilled with plants and dangerous wildlife in its primordial years, but the Brothers were created to clear it out. Then they created the Afterans as well as the different acres for them to live in. They designed new creations that would replace them in maintaining the Ever After. This was how the Cat was created. They later created the Jabberwalker as a form of destruction. However, the two disagreed on whether it disrupted the balance or not and began to wage war.

OSCAR: (scoffs) What else is new?

RUBY: The Blacksmith told us how balance isn’t supposed to be two opposing forces locked in battle; balance is an ecosystem, an organism, and a living thing, thus balance isn’t restored with force or manipulation, it’s restored naturally, requiring love and patience to see it through to the end. The Gods got to Remnant because the Ever After created a door to a “greater beyond” for the Gods, so they can leave and experiment in creating new worlds as much as they like.

NORA: (snickering) So the Tree basically said, “You think you have life sorted out? Then get out of my house”?

RUBY: Pretty much.

TEAM RWBY, JAUNE, AND REMNANT ALLIANCE:

YANG: (wiping a tear) Oh, my Gods, that’s such a hilarious way of looking at it. Thanks, Nora.

RUBY: Anyway, the Blacksmith told us that we have impacted the Ever After significantly; just like Somewhat, Alyx, and Lewis, and that the Cat caused a bad impact, and then she made us a portal in the desert on the outskirts of the city, and now you’re all caught up.

#rwby #greenlight volume 10 #team rwby #rwby little #jabberwalker #ever after #the jinxy peddler #red prince #curious cat #herbalist #rusted knight #jaune arc #juniper #rwby alyx #bumbleby #paper pleasers #neopolitan #roman torchwick #penny polendina #pyrrha nikos #leonardo lionheart #clover ebi #professor ozpin #james ironwood #rwby blacksmith #summer rose #raven branwen #god of light #god of darkness #the remnant alliance

[ddarker-dreams]

Patiently waiting for your thoughts on Fontaine’s new archon quest 🫡

oh man. i do have some thoughts to share.

(warning for spoilers to those who haven't played through the latest archon quest)!

OKAY, so — overall? i enjoyed it. the fortress of meropide section felt a little tedious at times, i'm begging mihoyo to abandon those awful 'stealth' 'gameplay' sections. aside from that though, i was always interested enough to keep moving ahead. i especially like how they wrote navia. the story of her and her father got me emotionally invested in her as a character, i actually teared up at one point.

i was glad they avoided their infamous 'introduce a character and have them betray you' shtick. idk if that was a quota they had to reach before and that's why they did it so often, but in any case, it made for a refreshing change. the reveal of fontaine's history, the serial disappearances, focalors and furina; there were lots of intriguing story beats. furina's story might somehow be one of the saddest in genshin yet?? the execution of the reveal and the final conversation between focalors and neuvillette packed a strong emotional punch.

onto my gripes...

childe. why. why'd they do my man like that. the buildup was so interesting! the cutscene where he helps neuvillette subdue the space whale had me frothing at the mouth. him in his foul legacy armor ... his leitmotif playing... him growling and grunting.... oh, how happy i was, naïve thing that i am. i was a bit confused how they dedicated a total of three seconds to traveler and the floating fiend going 'oh wow there's childe ig.' like ??? at this point in the story, i thought they were sorta buddies??

the space whale's execution confused me. i expected it to be deeply tied to fontaine's past, or at the very least give some abyss bread crumbs, but it just kinda flopped around and stuff. the fight was cool, don't get me wrong. but the whole 'yeah this whale is some dude's pet lol' bit just felt odd. i get that they want to prove the Big Important Name Fella is suuuper important and suuuper strong but c'mon. at least make the space whale a creation that ran rampant or something.

i could've forgiven the space whale shenanigans if we got a nice conversation with childe at the end. how did he feel in the abyss? was he fighting the whale to keep the people of fontaine safe, out of bloodlust, or something in between? what was it like seeing skirk again? how much time felt like it passed when he was in whale abyss prison? does his vision resonate with him properly again?

instead, we just get a few throwaway lines that he's back in snezhnaya healing up. did they run out of budget to book his VA?? i get they have to be selective with lore drops, but there are so many ways around that.

my last major gripe is how they went about furina's character quest. maybe i'm just an oversensitive weenie (i definitely am), but the traveler and flying creature's interactions with furina... i was physically grimacing. how did they seriously think it was a good idea to ask the person who has been tormented by acting for 500 years to give the stage another shot? imo, it would've been fine if they tried that, furina rejected them, and everything played out about the same. but those bits where traveler + the imp kept pressuring furina felt so weeeeeeird. i genuinely didn't want to click the dialogue options. if this was framed differently, that would've also been fine, but it's kinda a 'haha :3 epic paimon says teehee te nandayo reddit gold' light.

tl;dr i liked the overall experience but someone needs to delete paimon from the game + treat their characters as more than a punchline.

#lock plays genshin #answered #Anonymous

[charlesswife]

My Experience Working For The Formula One Miami Grand Prix 2023 (please read)

Hello dear readers,

In this post I will share with you about my experience working at the Formula One Miami Grand Prix of this year. As well as footage - just in case you don’t believe me. Trust me, I have NO reason to lie to you about the things I’m about to say. I want to bring this post into awareness because I think not a lot of people know what actually happens behind the scenes at all.

I would really appreciate if you guys take the time to read this. It would mean the world to me. Please reblog and share to your formula one friends so they can be aware of this.

You may or may not know, but I’m just getting into Formula One and although there is still some stuff to learn about this sport, it has grown into me and I love this sport as well as the drivers.

When you see videos of people working for the Formula One, you only get to see the good, pretty and wonderful side. You don’t see the nasty, horrendous and overall awful side. That’s why I’m here to tell you the actual truth of what I went through.

I work for this company (safety reason I won’t say which) as an usher, I work for different stadiums and I get to choose my own schedule. To work for F1 you need to fill an application and it’s just a very long process. Initially they only needed security for the job — I am not security, I’m usher so they almost didn’t take me until last minute. I’m a strong believer of manifestation.

My schedule was Friday 9:30am to 9:30pm, Saturday from 7:30am to 8:30pm and Sunday from 8:30 am to 9:30pm

When I got there on Friday at 9:30am I had to park so far and then walk to the Shuttle that was going to pick us up from the parking and take us to the stadium.

I picked up my credential and went looking where to clock in. Here are some of the pics I took

When I finally found where to clock in, I was on hold until 11am trying to figure out where I’m supposed to work. Nobody knew where to go and it was just very disorganized on their part. Since nobody picked me I had to be taken to gate 8. The worker that was taking us got confused and I literally went through the whole place trying to find gate 8. This is what it looked like.

Imagine having to walk all that, under the Miami heat. The sun literally burning in your back. I finally got to my spot at 12pm. They confused me as a security and they put me to work on something I wasn’t supposed to be at by mistake, but regardless I worked it because it was a good one. I was in turn 17, which I saw the drivers slowed down in the turn. I saw Alex Albon get of the grid twice during practice.

I met the flag marshalls there. They were so nice and caring as well.

(I thought this was funny to add)

This is when they were taking Charles’ car out of the race.

I was at this spot until 8pm, which is way later than when they told me I was going to leave the spot, and during the whole day I was surviving in water. Unfortunately that day I did not receive any food. One of the marshalls gave me an apple and another one gave me a vegetable wrap, but after a whole day of not eating; once you eat, your body rejects it. So I literally wanted to throw up at this point. I was very weak.

I was asked to come in at 5am the next day, to which I agreed (big mistake).

I did let my supervisor know that I didn’t eat and while he was worried and was trying to find a way for me to get lunch box, I never received one - so I was dehydrated, starved and lightheaded.

Once I clocked out, I had to walk for 40 minutes to get to the shuttle again and drive for 30 minutes to get into the parking and then a few more minutes to get to my car (since I was parked very far away) and THEN drive 30 minutes to get to my house. I got home at 10:40pm took a shower, set my alarms and went to sleep. I had to wake up and leave my house the next day at 4:10am — drive 30 minutes, get in the shuttle, another 30 minutes to the stadium and walk to clock in.

I’m surviving on 4 hours of sleep. They asked for my security card, which I told them I don’t have because I’m usher. Just then, they realize the mistake they made and told me I couldn’t work the same spot I did yesterday because that’s only for security. So they had me 2 hours earlier than the original time plan for absolutely no reason.

everybody got there in between 6:30am to 8:30am.

I got to work with a nice supervisor to which I worked before for another stadium, I talked to him about the lunch and he ensured me that he’ll make sure I’ll eat.

I was in Marina (big information to know, iykyk) bathroom duty - basically making sure only women were getting into the bathroom (you would think it’s common senses, but the about of men almost accidentally getting into the women’s bathroom and viceversa it’s insane)

I was able to see the practice and qualifying because of a big screen that was in front of me.

I was there when Charles crashed again in the same section too.

Roll the clip!!

I watched the clip replay and saw myself running and also saw how close Charles was to my section. I really wanted to die when I saw the distance between us.

I have another video explaining the distance between us but tumblr only lets me post one video per post.

I really did enjoy myself. However, I was standing since 5:20am to 6:30pm, the whole day… standing up… and this my be tmi but I have thicc thighs so they rub with each other, my feet were sore and swollen and my pussy lips were HURTING, when I peed it felt like acid going down there.

I was drained and sunburned and overall this job is not for the weak. I had to cancel my shift for today because I would definitely not do it again.

I got paid 15/hour, which overall I don’t think it’s worth it at all. Housekeeping gets paid the same and they’re job is making sure the entire arena is clean for the guests. They should get paid more. The food voucher that I was given only covered for $15 so if I went over the limit I had to pay the remaining, which is fucking dumb because I am literally working there, the least they could do is give me a free meal, but they didn’t. They offer you the minimum but expect the best outcome from you. I was met with false advertisement left and right and for that reason I had to leave. You’re telling me that a multimillion dollar event in one of the biggest stadium in Florida is only paying their staff $15/h and can’t even cover their full meal? Please do better.

I cried to my friend after everything that I went through because I although had great memories, and I can brag to my friends and everyone I met that I went to F1, the day was pretty shitty tbh. There’s always a limit to something and I had a limit, that’s why I had to cancel my shift. I knew I couldn’t do this anymore. My love for this sport is big, but I passed my limit point.

I would’ve rather pay $5000 to with paddock pass and everything to see the race, than working in it. For those two days I think I only made $300, and to be honest. I didn’t see worth it.

I would much rather watch the race in the comfort of my house than working in it.

Whenever you go to an event, game, concert, etc. please be kind to the staff you see, the staff that helps you get to your desired place. We do so much, we stand there for hours, sometimes we get breaks, sometimes we don’t— sometimes we get to eat and sometimes, unfortunately, we don’t.

This was definitely an experience, and I am a strong person that likes to work, but I would rather die than do that again.

With much love,

CW

——————————————————————

anyways new chapter coming up tomorrow!

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I know this might not be a post you guys had in mind, but I really wanted you guys to know what I went through. If you guys know about any other better ideas to work for Formula One pls let me know. Also please tell me what are your thoughts in this situation. I want to know your thoughts as well! If you have Formula 1 friends, please share this with them and let them know what actually happen to me.

Since I don't work today, I'm going to focus on watching the race, and writing the new chapter for you guys!!!

Thank you for supporting my writing. The main reason why I started this blog is because I love to write (I want to publish books) and I wanted to put my ideas out in the world and received feedback as well. I am very thankful for you guys! I can't believe I'm almost at 500 followers too! You guys are awesome, truly!

@fandomxs1 @teti-menchon0604 @moonclaine @AmsOffTrack @fandoms-stuff @mac-daddy-210 @bisexual-desi @miureiz @diasnohibng @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @im-just-here-toread @tyskills @rafaaoli @heavengirls111 @lighttsoutlewis @leclerc13 @c4ssi4-luv @livsans @ynbutbetter @marigoldgasly @vita-di-moda @sbrn0905 @leclercsbae @bhiees @empathypostsf1 @marauderlover22 @ushygushybaby @zendayabelova @lord_leclerc @itsmesofia @sebbybucky12 @notleclerc @dicaprio-leo @starkeyellow @spngi @mskeisha69 @prrttyposts @vex-et-soleil @dessxoxsworld @thesurielscheesecake @severenswife @67-angelofthelordme-67 @booksobsess @buckleyverse @mickslover @formula1-bichyslut16 @allgaslynobrakess @shyshva @rossy1080 @celestialcharles @glitterf1

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #f1 #formula one #formula one x you #working for formula one #ferrari #miami grand prix #miami grand prix formula one #mia

[sexy-adjacent]

Flirting With Your Sister

You’re back in Hawkins visiting your little brother, Dustin Henderson. You’ve been away at college, and haven’t been home for a couple years. However, you decided to move back home for a year before starting your master’s program. Your mom practically begged you to since she’ll be traveling a lot for her job the next several months, and wanted someone to be able to watch Dustin. You think Dustin is old enough not to need a babysitter, so you plan on just being the cool older sister.

One night, you’re home making dinner. Dustin is out with some of his friends and said he would probably be staying the night at Mike’s, so you’re looking forward to a relaxing night at home by yourself. However, as you’re wrapping up dinner, there’s a knock on the door. You open the door and you’re a little taken back by the handsome stranger at your door. His chocolate brown eyes gazed directly into yours. He has shoulder-length, brown curls, rings adorning most of his fingers, and a leather jacket with a denim vest over top. He’s not usually the kind of guy you’d find attractive, but there’s something about him that you find just delicious. 

Apparently you’ve been staring at him for a while because he awkwardly clears his throat and lets out a soft “hello?”

“Sorry! Hi! I’m Y/N." You say it so fast it almost sounds like one word. 

“Y/N, the older sister. It’s nice to meet you. Dustin’s told me lots about you.” 

“You know Dustin?” You ask, somewhat confused as to how this full grown (hot) man knows your teenage brother.

“Oh yeah, sorry. I’m Eddie. We’re friends from school. He’s also in my DnD club, Hellfire.”

“So you’re the famous Eddie? I’ve actually heard a lot about you, too. Dustin looks up to you a lot, which means he bores me with stories of you all the time.” You say, playfully. He smiles at this remark and you notice yourself getting a little weak at the knees. “So, anyway… Dustin’s not home and he told me he would likely be staying over at a friend’s house.” 

“That’s fine. I just lost some of my dice, and I wanted to ask if he’d seen them or maybe accidentally took them.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to come in and look around. His backpack is on the chair in the living room. Maybe he tossed them in there with his own stuff.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to bother you.”

“I’m not doing anything at the moment, and it’s just me here. I wouldn’t mind a little company,” you say with a smile. Truth is, you do mind. You were looking forward to a quiet night alone, but it’s not every day that such a good-looking guy shows up at your door, so you decide to take advantage of the situation. 

You lead Eddie to the living room and show him Dustin’s backpack. You then excuse yourself to go finish your dinner that you had momentarily forgotten about. You take a couple bites and then you’re interrupted again by a knock at the door. You go and look through the peephole. Your heart stops. It’s Jason Carver. He was a sophomore when you were a senior at Hawkins High a few years ago, but that didn’t stop him from asking you out. You obliged and went on one date with him. It was awful. Jason has the biggest ego out of anyone you’ve ever met. He talked about himself and about basketball the whole date. When he dropped you off, he went in for a kiss and you rejected him. This made him furious. He wasn’t used to not getting his way. The next week at school, he told everyone that he’d gotten to third base with you. You spent the rest of your senior year trying to dispel the rumors while Jason spent the rest of the year trying to get another date with you. Not only that, but Dustin’s told you that he’s been an asshole to him and his friends since Dustin started high school this year.

You’re guessing that he heard you’re back in town, and wants that second date he never got. You don’t really want to spend the next year dodging his advances, so you quickly conjure up a plan that hopefully gets Jason off your back for good. 

“Hey Eddie,” you whisper as you walk back to the living room. Eddie looks up from Dustin’s bag with a confused look. 

“Why are we whispering?” He whispers back.

“I need you to do me a favor.” 

“Umm… sure?” he says. It’s more of a question, but you’ll take it. There’s another knock at the door. Jason must be getting impatient. 

“I don’t really have time to explain, but I might need you to pretend to be my boyfriend. I’ll give you the signal if I need you to come over.” You walk away before Eddie really has a chance to answer. 

You answer the door and Jason is standing there in his letterman jacket over a polo shirt. He’s smiling wide. Too bad he’s such a jerk, because he really is kind of good-looking. “Y/N! You are back!” It looks like he’s going in for a hug, but you take a step back, so he awkwardly lowers his arms back to his sides. You stand in awkward silence for what feels like several minutes before Jason finally speaks again. 

“I heard you were back in town, and I wanted to come and welcome you home.”

“Thanks,” you say flatly. Jason hardly notices that you are less than thrilled to see him. Classic narcissist. 

“I was also kind of wondering if maybe you’d want to go out on that second date we never got.”

“I don’t think so. I’m not really interested.”

“Why not?” Jason asks. You can tell that even this simple rejection has begun to anger him.

“I mean, I shouldn’t have to give you a reason. No means no. I know you’re not used to hearing no, but that’s no excuse to throw a tantrum.”

This really seemed to piss him off. “Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t get to talk to me that way. And I demand that you give a reason why you keep rejecting me. I don’t think you really have a reason, you just want to be a bitch.” 

“Reason #1: You just called me a bitch. Reason #2: You spread a rumor about me because you got pissed off that I wouldn’t kiss you. Reason #3: You’re a conceited jerk. Reason #4: You’re a bully to my brother and his friends. And reason #5…” You quickly glance at Eddie who is watching this unfold out of Jason’s view. You motion for him to come stand next to you. “Reason #5: I have a boyfriend.” As soon as you say it, Eddie comes into view and puts his arm around your shoulder. You feel a few butterflies in your stomach at this action. 

“This is your boyfriend?! You’re joking! How would you guys even get together?”

Eddie chimes in. “I’m friends with her brother who introduced us over the phone. After we were introduced we talked almost every single day, and then when she got back to town we decided to make it official.” You look at Eddie, impressed that he was able to come up with that on the spot. 

“Y/N, please tell me this is a joke. You cannot be dating Eddie “the freak” Munson!”

“Nope, not a joke. Eddie’s my boyfriend. The best boyfriend I’ve ever had, in fact.” Eddie is grinning at the fact that Jason is fuming at the two of you. “And might I add…” you lean closer to Eddie and whisper in his ear loud enough for Jason to hear, “that they don’t call him a freak for nothing. Isn’t that right, big boy?” You give his ear a quick little nibble and you can feel Eddie’s arm tense up around you.

Eddie turns to look at you. “Oh, baby. You are filthy!” There’s a hint of mischief in his eye that nearly makes you swoon. 

“Sick! You guys are sick!” Jason yelled as he backed away from the doorway. He then turned around and headed back to his car. You watched him drive away before closing the door, kind of in shock that your plan actually worked. 

Eddie was the first to speak after Jason stormed off. "So, you gonna tell me what that was all about?" 

You let out a little chuckle. "Uh, sure. I feel like I owe you that for coming to my rescue like you did." You see Eddie smile at this comment. You continue, "In a nutshell, I went on a date with Jason a few years ago, it went terribly, he tried to kiss me, I dodged the kiss, he got pissed, and then he told the whole school that we got to third base. I could never really escape the rumor, either. It affected what other people thought of me for the rest of the year, which is why I took off after graduation and haven't been back until now." 

“I’ve always known Carver was an asshole, but wow. This might take the cake.” Eddie says with a sympathetic look. 

“I’m mostly over the whole thing, but my skin still crawls every time I see him, so thanks again for helping me out. Hopefully he’ll leave me alone once and for all.”

“Yeah, hopefully. If not though… I’d be happy to be your boyfriend again.” Eddie says with a cheeky grin that makes you feel a little weak in the knees. “‘Cause I’m not gonna lie, your last line during our little roleplay was pretty hot.” 

You did your best to suppress a goofy grin, but you couldn’t help it. Feeling a little rush of confidence you reply. “Well I’m not gonna lie, I think you’re pretty hot.” 

Eddie’s grin grew even wider, if that was even possible. He didn’t say anything, but you caught his eyes starting to wander down your body. You started to get a little uncomfortable, so you quickly changed the subject. “Did you find your dice?”

“No, but that’s okay. I’ll check in with Dustin when I see him next and keep looking around my place, too.” There was a beat of awkward silence before Eddie continued. “Well, I better get going…”

You were eager to spend more time with him, though. You quickly interjected. “No!... I mean, I just finished making dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Oh, I could always eat. I don’t want to impose though.” 

“You wouldn’t be, honestly. In fact, you’d be doing me a favor. I don’t like being alone and I made a ridiculous amount of food.”

“Well, in that case, I’m at your service fair maiden,” Eddie says with a little bow. It was so goofy, so why did it make your heart skip a beat? 

Eddie follows you into the kitchen where you dish him a plate of spaghetti. You hand it to him and make your way over to the table where you already had a plate you were eating from. Eddie sits down next you and takes a bite of his food. 

“This is delicious!Are you, like, a chef, or something?” He asks with his mouth full of food as he wipes his bottom lip with the back of his hand.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “No, it’s just spaghetti and one of the only things I know how to make, so don’t get your hopes up for future meals.” 

“First of all, I don’t eat this fancy very often so I’m sure I’ll think anything you make is delicious. Second of all, you think we’ll continue to share meals?” You could tell by the glint in his eye that he was amused by the statement you’d made, which flusters you.

“Ummm… I mean, definitely not if you don’t want to, being as we just met and you don’t know me and I don’t know you but I guess you do hang out with my brother so we may or may not cross paths again. I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to the idea, but again, no pressure. Anyway, I’m rambling now and it’s getting awkward and you’re looking at me like I’m crazy or something so I’m just doing to stop talking right about now!” You say all of this in one breath, mortified that you couldn’t put together a coherent answer to Eddie’s simple albeit flirty question. 

He laughs. It’s gorgeous and yet you feel mortified that you embarrassed yourself. That is, until he speaks. 

“I don’t think you're crazy, and I would like to share more meals with you. Don’t feel pressured to cook for me though, I’m really good at ordering pizza. Or, we don’t have to have food. I’d hang out with you either way.” 

Eddie starts leaning closer. Your eyes dart down to his lips for a quick second. When you glance back up to meet his gaze, you notice that he’s even closer to you and he’s now stealing glances to your lips. 

Suddenly, you hear the front door swing open. “Y/N! I’m home!” 

You and Eddie fly apart, almost sitting at complete opposite ends of the table. Dustin calls for you again. 

“In here, Dusty!” You yell back.

Dustin rounds the corner and enters the kitchen. “Eddie? What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, he was just-” Eddie cuts you off. 

“I was just flirting with your sister.” 

You roll your eyes while trying to hide a smile creeping up on your lips. 

“No, he was looking for some dice.” 

“Oh right, that is what I was doing here. You haven’t seen them, have you, Dusty?”

Dustin cringes at Eddie’s use of the nickname. “No, I haven’t seen them. However, I do feel slightly uncomfortable hearing that you were flirting with my sister, even if it was just a joke.” 

“It was not at all a joke. Sorry, dude. Your sister’s cute and I think she likes me.” Eddie turns back to you and gives you a wink. He then stands up from the table and walks closer to Dustin. “Don’t worry, Dusty. Nothing happened… this time.” Dustin goes beat red. You can’t tell whether it’s from embarrassment or outrage. “Anyway, I better get going. It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I hope to see more of you.” Then he quickly headed out the front door. 

“I don’t like this, Y/N.” Dustin says once Eddie closes the door behind him. 

“Well that’s too damn bad, little brother. Stop having adorable friends and maybe I’ll stop flirting with them.” You say, then stick your tongue out at him. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff