#what if I just lived in an old school bus with this guy I met larping

[queenqunari]

I hate “van life” and driving in general until my partner shows me a listing for some old van (or even school bus) being sold for like 5k and jokes about buying it for us and then I’m like, daydreaming about learning carpentry to build a platform bed inside a vehicle.

[foldingfittedsheets]

My nana maternal grandmother who taught me swears had one of the most ridiculous pet names for her cat when I was growing up. For reasons known only to her, she simply called the cat: Kitty Kitty Meow Meow. The creature in question was an absolute love bug and lived to be almost twenty.

When I was dating my last boyfriend Brendan we ended up living with his mom briefly before we moved up north together, and his sister lived at home too. One day I was sitting in the kitchen and heard Brendan call teasingly to his sister, “Okay, Miss Kitty Kitty Meow Meow!”

His sister laughed but my head shot up. “What did you just say?”

Brendan ambled over to me, “Oh, it’s an old inside joke. There was this one day I was riding the bus to Charlie’s house and I heard this girl on the bus say her grandma’s cat was named Kitty Kitty Meow Meow. It was so stupid I rushed home to tell my sister. It’s like naming a dog Doggy Doggy Bark Bark.” He was hysterically giggling just relating this story.

I stared at him.

I said, “Charlie and I were on the same bus route.”

He blinked, his giggles tapering down and slowly started to frown.

“That girl was me. That is the name of my nana’s cat.”

It turned out that while Brendan, a year younger than me, had never met me before we both graduated high school, he had apparently sat behind me once on the bus and turned a brief snippet of my life into a meme with his sister. Then a decade later we met through Charlie in college and went on to date. We were both flabbergasted by this coincidence.

But there was one more twist in store for me. I told my family about the way our paths had crossed before we ever dated and they thought it was hilarious.

Then a few weeks later I got a frantic call from my parents while they were in California visiting my paternal grandmother.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?”

There was weird excited static and thumps as the phone passed around and I heard my dad in the background urging my grandma, “Tell her!”

My grandma said ponderously, “You know my cats name is Kiki.”

“Of course, it’s a really cute name.”

“Your dad wants me to tell you the full thing.”

My eyes widened. I could not believe what was about to happen to me but I knew it was coming.

“Her name is Ki-Ki Meow Meow.”

I got it on both sides. Both my grandmas, in different states, with no contact, had named their cats the same silly ridiculous thing. I immediately ran to tell Brendan who laughed so hard he almost threw up.

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 20: "I didn't know where else to go."

"I didn't know where else to go."

It's the first thing Eddie Munson said to his uncle when he showed up on his uncle's door step. He was fourteen and his dad had kicked him out, caught him kissing another boy. What's stupid is the other boy ended up punching him anyway, he risked everything for nothing.

He had grabbed what he could and shoved it into a backpack, he had enough money for a bus ticket to Indianapolis. He got lucky when he was there, meeting a guy who was headed to the town next to Hawkins, luckier still that the guy wasn't lying. In the town he met a woman named Claudia who was there shopping for her son and she lived in Hawkins and was happy to drop him at his uncle's trailer.

His uncle didn't ask for a long time why he got kicked out. Wayne had simply welcomed him inside and fed him the first warm meal he'd had in weeks. Gave up his bed for Eddie, made sure he got to school on time, clothed him, loved him.

He was stupid again and couldn't help kissing a boy with freckles and a sweet smile. When Wayne caught them the boy ran and Eddie froze.

"That why your daddy kick you out?"

Eddie nodded ready to pack everything up again, he was sixteen now he could find a job maybe and sleep in the park.

"Dumb reason to lose a son over," Wayne said gruffly before turning heading to the kitchen to start making dinner.

"You're not going to kick me out?" Eddie asked, eyes misty, heart racing.

"Course not, not repeating your daddy's mistake and not gonna repeat my daddy's mistake either," Wayne said with a smirk. From then on Eddie breathed easier in his trailer.

Until a cheerleader died there.

He's kinda glad that after everything they got a new trailer, it wasn't as cosy as their old one but Wayne had a proper room again and no one had died there. Things were comfortable, until one night there was a weak knock at the door.

"I didn't know where else to go."

Steve Harrington said, bloody and bruised, swaying where he stood. Eddie quickly but carefully pulled him inside.

"Baby, Stevie, what happened?"

Steve's eyes were wet with unshed tears, one eye starting to bruise. "Dad found some of your stuff in my room, Eds, he lost it on me."

Eddie's grip tightened on Steve's arms, "Sweetheart I thought they weren't coming back til next month."

"Stupid conference got cancelled. I'm sorry Eddie can I just stay here tonight, please."

Before Eddie had a chance to answer his uncle chimed in behind him, "You're welcome to stay as long as you want, son, you're family."

Eddie had never been so glad that he had come to his uncle's door all those years ago.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Finish Line || LS2

Summary: A farewell fic to Logan because I'm a sookie and miss him already. Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader (living in America) WC: 4k

Summer Break 2021

Your mother always said, “Nothing good is easy and nothing easy is good.” To an eighteen year old fresh out of high school you thought she was referring to studying and exam results, not the more impactful experiences you would face once the red brick walls were left in the rear view mirror. 

It would only take a matter of weeks to learn the real meaning.

Loving Logan wasn’t easy but it was impossible to stop the feeling of falling that came soon after meeting him. From the moment you met there was an indescribable connection but the paths of your future were heading in completely different directions and you knew at the end of summer you would say your goodbyes.

In the meantime you would enjoy what the weather had to offer and what better way to emancipate yourself from the innocence of youth and broadcast to the world that you were an adult than a girls road trip to Miami? You may not have been old enough to drink but that didn’t stop the college guys on summer vacation from keeping you and your friends well supplied. 

Looking back, it only proved how young and naive you were. 

“Dalt, I really shouldn’t be here,” Logan complained as a red cup was thrust into his hand. “I could get in so much trouble for this.”

“Relax, bro, you’ll be fine.” His older brother clapped him on the back happily. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The beach house was right on the waterfront and Logan stepped out onto the white sand to dip his toes in the warm water. He didn’t know who’s family the place belonged to but Dalton seemed to know everyone by name. It only made him feel even more left out and he thought maybe he should have just stayed in England for the summer break. 

The house was stifling with the humid temperatures compounding to a sauna with all the bodies inside. The beer had started off cool but it had warmed in your hands and began to taste disgusting so you abandoned it into the hands of a stranger passing by who swiftly chugged it back before shouting the Greek alphabet you assumed was the name of his frat house. You had certainly bitten off more than you could chew and debated catching a Greyhound bus home where you felt safe but you wouldn’t ditch your friends who were absolutely in their element.

The beach wasn’t like any you had seen before arriving in Miami. The sand bars were tiny pockets of islands and each property seemed to be its own space divided by narrow canals that lead to dry docks for their expensive boats. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked the stranger who sat in the sand at the water's edge. It was impossible to ignore each other’s presence when the rising tide had left such little space.

“It’s a free country,” he said with a small smile, his palm quickly swiping away the picture he had drawn in the sand. 

“I don’t know about that. Sometimes it feels like a prison. Sorry, that was really morbid.”

He laughed and tipped his head back to the sun that still beat down despite being late in the afternoon. “You’re not wrong though. I love coming home, but sometimes I’m glad I don’t live here anymore. I don’t know how to fit in with that,” he said looking back at drunken revelers who had stripped down to their swimwear despite having no inclination to actually enter the water. 

He looked like the rest of the guys there: tanned skin over a toned body and dirty blonde hair hidden by a cap he wore backwards. The southern drawl also confirmed the fact he called this place home. 

“Where do you fit in then?”

His shoulders shrugged as he picked at a desiccated chain of Neptune’s necklace that had washed up on the beach. He busied himself with plucking each individual bead off the seaweed and flicking it back to the water. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“A Formula One racing driver, or a fisherman.”

You buried your toes in the sand, wiggling them to dig deeper where it was cooler. “I thought the all-american dream was to be an astronaut?”

You met his blue eyes and saw the amusement that sparkled in them. “I’m afraid of heights,” he admitted with a grin before he held out his hand. “I’m Logan.”

“I think we are beyond names here, I already know your hopes and dreams,” you teased, shaking his hand. 

“But I don’t know yours, yet.”

“I can give you my name, but as for hopes and dreams, I have no idea what I want to be. I’m still trying to figure that out.” You realised his hand was still in yours and gave it another small shake. “I’m Y/N.”

As the sun fell below the horizon the party grew larger and soon it spilled into the slice of paradise you had carved out with Logan. Sand was kicked up as two guys tackled each other to the ground and Logan threw a protective arm around you before they could crash into your side.

“Back it up bro,” he said as he rose to his feet and pulled you up too, tucking you in behind his back. “You could have hurt somebody.”

“Aw, Sargeant, is that your girlfriend?”

Logan ignored them and turned to check you were alright. His eyes scanned over your body and slowed on their ascent before he cleared his throat and met your eyes again. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You scanned the crowd and spotted two of your friends dancing and the other sat on some guy's lap, smiles on all their faces. You couldn’t disappear and make them worry but you didn’t want to stay as the party only grew more chaotic. “Yes, please, I’ll just tell my friends I’m leaving.”

You weren’t going to attempt to get amongst the gyrating bodies so instead headed to Dakota. The guy sitting beneath her noticed your arrival first and grinned at Logan as he stepped in beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You’re leaving aren’t you? Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“You two know each other?” you asked. 

“Only since birth,” Logan answered. “This is my brother, Dalton. Dalton, this is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said before turning your attention to your friend. “I’m going to head off, Kote. Logan said he can drop me off at the apartment after dinner.”

“Are you sure? I can take you back if you want.”

You laughed and leaned into Logan, enjoying the warmth that came as his arm curled around your waist. “I’m good, someone needs to make sure those two get back.”

You both looked at the twins who had found dance partners and knew the rented 4 bedroom apartment was probably going to double in residents by morning. With a resigned sigh that she didn’t really feel as the group mother, Dakota nodded. “I’ve got them, you two have fun.”

The wink she sent you off with made your cheeks heat but you hadn’t actually planned on doing what the action implied. Of course Logan was attractive, and the thought of taking him to your bedroom was one that had you melting, but you were quite happy just enjoying his company too. 

“Are you hungry? I know this great spot but it’s a bit of a drive from here.”

Out in the street where the sounds of the thumping bass couldn’t reach your stomach rumbled and you smiled sheepishly. “Just a little.”

The restaurant he knew was on Key Largo, about an hour south of where the party was in Miami Beach and you were amazed by how many bridges had been built to connect the keys. It would have felt a bit scary driving over the ocean if it wasn’t for Logan recounting stories of growing up in the state. It was a good distraction to listen to the fondness in his tone as he remembered fishing off the now-closed piers that he pointed out. 

“I think this is where you fit in,” you said as he cruised along the highway in his pickup truck, the radio quietly playing an RnB station in the background. It was warm enough that the window was down and the breeze blew his hair back like a runway model.

He glanced across the car and lifted a questionable brow. “In Florida?”

“No! Behind the wheel. You look, I don’t know, comfortable? No, content, that’s the word.” 

On the beach Logan had shared how he was halfway through the season of Formula 3 in Europe and had hopes to join an F1 team in the future. It was also when he mentioned returning to the country he currently lived in, four thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean. Despite only just meeting him, you felt the four week countdown arriving like a dark storm cloud.

Those four weeks flew by almost as quickly as you fell in love. 

Summer Break 2024

The soy milk screeched and you winced at the sound before saving the new girl, and the coffee, from the machine. Thankfully it wasn’t scorched as the shop was already full with the busy morning foot-traffic and you wanted to keep it flowing for the customer’s sake. 

“Soy latte with a shot of hazelnut?” A hand went up and you passed the takeaway cup over. “Have a nice day.”

You looked at the next order stuck to the bench and immediately searched for the customer, a smile splitting your face when you found him. “Baby, you’re home! Why didn’t you call?”

Logan ducked under the staff counter and met your embrace with strong arms that pulled you to your tiptoes. “I called, but you must have been busy here. God, it’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

You checked your phone in the pocket of your apron and saw the missed call before slipping it over your head. “Marie, can you keep an eye on everything?”

“Yeah, course, hun, take your time,” the part time barista said with a wave. “Welcome home, Logan.”

“Thank you.” 

You dragged Logan eagerly through the swing door that stated ‘staff only’ and past the break room to the disused office at the back. “I’ve missed you so much,” you managed to say between the desperate kisses you shared as he kicked your door closed. 

“Missed you too.”

Your hands reached beneath his shirt and he chuckled breathlessly as he caught them before they could move any further. “Tempting, sweetheart, but not here.”

You pouted as you draped your arms around his neck instead and held him tight. “I have the studio booked in 20 minutes, did you want to come?”

Logan rolled his eyes at the stupid question and didn’t bother to answer as he tucked his hands into the back of your jeans and buried his face in your hair. “You smell like blueberry muffins,” he hummed happily. 

“I can steal one,” you offered but when you pulled away he quickly pulled you back with a shake of his head.

“Diet.”

You grabbed the flesh on his abdomen, feeling the hard muscle beneath. “You’re perfect, baby, one muffin isn’t going to change that - but it will make you happier. Go grab a seat in the staff room.”

You walked him back down the hall and let him settle into the couch while you grabbed a muffin from the front counter. Most of the rush had quickly cleared and with the lull in orders you made him his favourite drink. 

“You spoil me, sweetheart,” he said with a gratefully smile as you placed the plate and cup on the coffee table. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” You sank into the couch beside him and watched him pick apart the muffin, finding all the blueberries to eat first. He could feel your eyes on his hands as they fiddled with crumbs but before he worked up the courage to explain why he caught a flight two days earlier than planned. “What’s going on, baby?”

He exhaled a heavy sigh and wiped his hands clean before taking yours. “I think it’s over.”

Your heart cleaved apart and your ears started ringing as your world came crashing down. There was only one semester left in your art programme before all the plans the two of you made would come to life - plans that started with moving to England with Logan. Plans that were crumbling down.

“It’s over?” you repeated as silent tears streaked your face and your hands slipped from his.

Horror bled into Logan’s features and he snatched your hands back, placing them over his chest where his heart beat rapidly with panic. “Not us, never us,” he rushed with a harsh shake of his head. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are my everything.”

You sagged with relief as he wiped your eyes but the relief was short lived as you understood what he meant and the phantom pain in your chest returned. “Have you spoken to James?”

He nodded and leaned into your touch as your palms ran up his chest to cradle his face. “It’s not good.”

To hear the defeat in his voice was something you never wished to hear again. It was a sound that no 23 year old should make, he was too young to feel the immense pressure he was under and a weaker man would have been broken by it. But Logan was strong, mentally and physically - he would recover from this, you would make sure of it.

“Come on,” you whispered as you rose to your feet and tugged his hands. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“But you have class.”

You grabbed your handbag from your locker and tossed him the car keys. “This is more important, and I can paint anywhere.”

—

The drive to Miami took most of the day and the frown on Logan’s forehead seemed to soften as the arid air turned humid and the paddocks turned to swamp before he sped through Alligator Alley. The top 40 charts played quietly on the radio and Logan hummed along with the ones he liked while he held your hand on your thigh. 

A contented sigh of relief exhaled from deep in Logan’s chest as the sunset and the city lights illuminated the horizon. Though he was tired to his bones, just the sight of his home was enough to rejuvenate him and he sat up a little straighter before taking the exit that would lead him to Fort Lauderdale. 

Madelyn and Daniel were already expecting Logan and the front door opened before he could turn the engine off. It had been a while since they last had Logan home and you felt a little guilty since most of his returns to home soil were to visit you instead, but they didn’t hold it against you. Madelyn was just happy that there was someone who loved and supported Logan as much as she did.  

It was immediately clear that she wasn’t aware of his current struggles as you saw him hide behind a confident smile as she asked how everything was going. 

“I don’t want to disappoint them,” he admitted as he closed his bedroom door after dinner. 

You placed your bag on the floor and took a seat at the headboard before patting the spot beside you. Logan flopped down on the bed and rested his head on your thighs while his long legs hung over the edge, looking up as if you had all the answers. 

“You could never disappoint them, Lo, they just want you to be happy. And, you're worrying about things that haven’t even come to pass. We don’t know what the second half of the season will bring.”

“I know you are being reasonable, but I can’t help thinking this is the end. Everyone else thinks so too.”

“You mean everyone on X, formally known as twitter,” you said with a roll of your eyes that made him chuckle. “How about no social media for the whole break? Just disconnect from it all for four weeks.”

“And what happens at the end of the break?” he asked quietly, sensing deja vu from the last time he asked this three years ago. It was an eerily similar state too with his head on your legs but you were on the white sands instead of a bed. You had already fallen in love but he was due to fly back to Europe and you would be getting in the car with your friends and heading home. He had forever changed you that summer.

You combed your fingers through his hair as you relived the same memory. “We will be grateful for the time we had together.”

A smile tugged at his lips and he sat up so he could pull you onto his lap. “I’m not letting you go again.”

“I should hope not,” you stated as your knees settled either side of his thighs and you reached into his pocket to fish his phone out. “Now say goodbye to this, I am having you all to myself.”

He plucked the phone from your fingers and tossed it to the side table before putting all those glorious muscles to good use. The room spun until he caged your body beneath his and he gently kissed his way across your collarbone. “You already have me, sweetheart.”

–

A sick twisting feeling gripped your gut as you waved goodbye to Logan through misted eyes. No matter what you had said, you could feel his stress growing as the break came to an end and now he was going back alone. You wished you could go with him.

The drive back to your apartment was too quiet but you couldn’t listen to the radio because the songs he would have hummed to would only make you miss him more. It always took days, weeks even, to reacclimate yourself to the loss of his presence when he left. It never got easier but the memories made were worth it.

The days dragged by as classes began again and the repetitive routine of life was reestablished. Finally it was the weekend and you could curl up on the couch and watch Logan’s practice on F1TV while you were surrounded by paintings of him. There were two new additions that had come back from Miami, one capturing his happiness as he reeled in a bluefish and the other capturing his perfect features as he sunbathed shirtless, that one was purely indulgent.

“Oh no, Sargeant has taken a big shunt into the barriers there.”

Your feet slammed to the floor as you jumped out of your seat and stumbled closer to the tv as if you could reach through it and help, but you were helpless to watch as Logan remained in the car in the middle of the track - red flags waving. 

“Come on, baby, get out of there,” you begged as you heard his radio saying he was okay, but then the back of the car ignited into flame. You were screaming for him to get out as George’s car rolled by, his hands gesturing wildly for Logan to get out too before he finally was free of the seat harness and jumping out over the halo. 

You finally breathed a sigh of relief but it didn’t last as the camera cut to Logan leaning on the barriers, his head hung in defeat despite the helmet hiding his face. You knew your boyfriend better than anyone, you knew exactly what was going on inside his head and you knew you had to do something.

The credit card Logan had given you years ago had been left discarded in the back of your underwear drawer. He said it was for you to use but you had never been with him for the money and even as a broke uni student you hadn’t used it once. But this was an emergency, and if you were ever going to use it then you could be damn sure it was going to be spent on him.

One quick email was sent to your professor begging for an extension due to a family emergency before you packed a bag and booked the first flight out to Amsterdam.

With shaking hands you typed a message: I’m so glad you got out of there, baby. I’m on my way and I love you so much xxx

You knew he wouldn’t be able to reply for a little while since he would have to get back to the team garage, and there would be other responsibilities first like having a medical check and debrief, but you sent it anyway along with the flight numbers so he knew where you would be and when. It was going to be a long day with the 13 hours of flights plus the change in timezone but nothing was going to keep you from getting to Logan before the race tomorrow.

–

A stranger with a whiteboard greeted you at the airport and the exhaustion of the trip faded away when you reached the paddock with a pass in hand and stepped into the Williams garage. Bodies of mechanics moved in sync as they rushed around the car preparing it for the race that was due to start in a few short hours but it was one man that was standing among them that drew you closer. 

“Lo,” you greeted softly behind him on raised tiptoes. 

A wide smile split his face as he turned to embrace you, lifting your feet off the ground as he buried his face in your neck. “Hellow, sweetheart,” he breathed against your skin before inhaling the familiar scent of your perfume. 

Your hands tightened on his waist as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you okay?”

He pulled back and his smile faltered. “I’m better now that you’re here.” 

You reached up to trace the curve of his cheek where his smile had been but his team principal called his name before you could feel the shadow of his beard on your palm. “Can I borrow you for a minute?” he asked Logan before spotting you, a flicker of surprise on his face. “Hello, Y/N, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too, James,” you replied politely before stepping out of Logan’s arms and giving him a little nudge in the right direction. “I’ll wait over in hospitality.”

Logan spent what time he could with you, reassured by the feel of your arms wrapped around his neck and your cheek pressed to his as you sat on his lap in the single chair that furnished his driver room. The thin walls did little to dampen the noise of the motorhome and the crowd beyond but for a few minutes Logan could forget it all and the pressure that came with it - until the clock ticked away the precious minutes alone and reality returned.

“I have to score a point today,” he whispered like he was confessing a sin and he tipped his head back to stare at the roof. “No point, no seat. That's the deal.”

“Can they do that with your contract?”

“They can do whatever they want, sweetheart. I’m lucky they let me go this long without contributing.”

You cupped his face and tipped it forward so he was forced to look you in the eyes. “There are more ways to contribute to the team than just scoring points. You spend hours in the simulator every week so they can get their precious data.”

“And then I go and cost them $250k when I crash,” he laughed humorlessly and dropped his forehead to yours. “I think this is it. I’m tired and it’s so hard to enjoy it now. That’s the worst part out of all of it. I used to like my job, it was all I wanted to do.”

Your thumbs caught the tears that clung to his lower lashes. “What do you want now?”

“I honestly have no idea, I just know I want to be wherever you are.”

A knock at the door interrupted the promise you were going to make and someone in a William’s shirt said it was time to head back to the garage before ducking back out of the room.

“I love you” you whispered between the kisses you traced across the bow of his lips. “I want you to go out there today and forget James and points and all that stuff and just enjoy the race. I have watched you give everything to this team but today I want you to be selfish, okay? Enjoy it out there or it’s all for nothing, no matter the outcome. And when you get out of that car I will be waiting for you, arms wide open.”

Logan closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath before he captured your lips in a passionate kiss that left you both breathless. Resolute and proud, he stood up and placed you on his feet before grabbing his cap and slapping it on his head. “I’ll see you at the finish line.”

[mikobeautifulheart]

How JJK men react when they (or you) "accidently" fall on you (or them).

Including: Yuta, Yuji and Megumi

Tw: none unless you don't like falling over.

I KNOW THE TITTLE IS PAINFUL AND THE FIC IS NOT TOTALY EDITED. IM SORRY.

♡Yuta♡

All the second year students were at the traning field when you noticed that you forgot your phone.

Normally that wouldn't bother you, but today Yuta was supposed to come back from his training trip in Africa. There was nothing official with you guys but everyone around you could feel how much you both fell for each other. Just like the day he first arrived, you introduced yourself (probably the only person who did) to him. It was just like two wires fused and after that you guys became close. But it ened when Yuta left and you felt loke it was back to old times again with Maki, Panda and Toge.

"MAKIII" you yelled across the field as Maki was in the middle of her warm up lap.

"I NEED TO GO GET MY PHONE, ILL BE BACK SOON" You yelled getting a thumb up approval from her.

So you ran off the field and onto the path past the shed of cursed tools and straight to the main building in Jujustu high. You swung open the door and sprinted down the hallways.

Yuta was supposed to text you when he got back and nearly at the dormatrys because they changed the locks while he was gone and getting him his own key would take a while with his seemingly 'sudden' return. Luckily you had 2 keys made because you wanted a spare just in case it came handy.

You swung open the classroom door when you realised you forgot where you left your bag, which held your phone and pair of keys. You searched up the whole room panicking but to no avail. You looked at the clock on the wall. 4:00 pm. Yuta was supposed to be back at 4:10 and you figured the only other place your bag would be was on the bench bu the traning field...

Letting out a loud sigh of frustration you didn't want to waste any more time so you took a short cut to the oval. Right through the buildings window. You stood at the edge and pushed off landing harshly on the ground making you stumble a bit before sprinting again.

You made it to the field at 4:03, a new record, but still with your frantic searching you couldn't find your bag.

"I have to be quick before Yuta gets here or he'll be locked out the dorms!" You said franticly knowing your 3 classmates were watching you and wondering what you were doing.

You felt a tap on your sholder

"Tuna mayo Shakke."

(*We moved class rooms today remember?)

Your eyes went white realising you looked in the wrong room.

"I KNEW IT WAS IN OUR CLASS ROOM" You yelled before running again.

This time you went to the right room and saw your bag on your desk. You snatched it and looked at the time on your phone 4:11.

You said you would met Yuta at the schools enterance but there was no way you would make it there in time...unless you ran. Again.

You spun on you heals and with the last and most of your energy you ran head first into some body making them lose thier balance because the last thing they expected was getting rammed head first in a deserted hallway.

THUD

You fell onto your back in shock not realising the person hand was holding the back of your head making sure it never hit the ground.

"Are you alright!?" He asked looking down at you

It was Yuta.

"Yeah sorry about-YUTA?!" Your face flushed as his body caged your on the floor

"Sorry I didn't see you running then and just got in your way."

"NO, NO IT WAS MY FAULT" you were losing your sanity, he was so close and so...diffrent. His hair hung over his eyes and his body frame was way bigger from the last time you saw him.

He suddenly turned his head away from your gaze but you could see the red tint in his ears.

"Nice catch" you heard some one say

Both you and yuta looked down the hallway to see Maki standing there with a cursed weapon.

Immediately Yuta got up embarassed and offered you a hand up.

"Uh welcome back." You tried to act normally but that moment would live in your mind forever.

☆Yuji☆

You were in the library studying for Gojos "surprise quiz" that was taking place tomorrow. How were you going to get through all the subject set in the quiz with only one day's notice? Well you concluded that Gojo was not a very qualified teacher.

On the list of study books you'd need to read to take notes from there was one that was up impossibly high up on a shelf. But it was okay because there was a ladder at the end of the shelf you would just have to bring over.

You pulled the ladder over and made sure it was stable by shaking it a few times slightly, knowing there wouldn't be anyone to hold the ladder for you because Megumi, Nobora and Yuji were all currently out on a mission that you were no put on. It was a but disappointing but it was the perfect opportunity to study.

You got up on the ladder, when it came to the last step you got a bit nervous because the ladder began to shake a bit. But you took a deep breath and managed to make it up there without falling. You grabbed the book quickly got down the ladder. You put it on top of the other books you were using. You walked back to your table with all your study notes and materials.

It was a successful hour because you felt like you were finally ready. So you packed up your things and began to put the books back. Until it came to the high shelf. You tested the ladders durability again and finally took the first step. When tou were half way up, book tucked beneath your arm, you heard the library doors open and two people arguing. You already knew it was Nobora and Yuji. And if Nobora and Yuji were there then Megumi must be tagging along to. You kept climbing but a little faster so you could greet your friends back from their mission, however when you got to the top step you heard Nobora.

"JUST TELL HER YOU DAMNED IDIOT OR YOU'LL LOSE YOUR CHANCE!"

You looked down the ladder and saw the three (as predicted) walking toward the ladder when Nobora kicked Yujis back sending him forward right into the ladder you were on. With his instincts he grabbed a side of the ladder which only made him land on his back.

You let out a panicked gasp as you felt yourself lose your footing and fall off the ladder.

Nobora and Megumi watched in shock as the suddenly saw you fall off the ladder and crash...right into Yuji. Thank goodness for Yujis reflex skills because he managed to catch you. Catch being you landing the back of your head into his chest.

"YOU IDIOT" Nobora yelled

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED MY PRECIOUS Y/N"

"ME KILL HER? YOUR THE WITCH THAT PUSHED ME!" He yelled in retaliation you slowly sat up in-between his legs.

"Are you okay?" Yuji sat up to crossing his legs almost trapping you between him.

"Yeah I'll be alright" you mumbled but before you could rub the back of your pounding head you felt yujis hand on it.

"I'm sorry, I'll be more careful next time, really I didn't mean to hurt you"

"I know, it's okay Yuji I know you wouldn't purposely hurt me."

A blush spreads across his face and your body warms against his.

You look around trying to avert his gaze before realising that you didn't have the book any more.

"Huh? where did my book go..." your eyes wander to Megumi who's rubbing the top of his head with one hand and holding your book with the other.

"Here" He mumbled in pain.

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS ♡♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: yeah I'm not entirely happy with the Yuta part but maybe I'll re write it if you guys want. Also if you want a part 2 with other characters let me know because I was going to add Megumi but didn't.

[undying-love]

Paul describing John: A compilation

"I knew nothing about him except that he looked pretty cool. He had long sideboards and greased back hair and everything."

"I’d seen him around a couple of times, because I realised later what it was, my bus route, he would take that bus, but he would be going to see his mum who lived kind of in my area. And then he’d take the bus back up to his Auntie Mimi’s. So I’d seen him a couple of times and thought, ‘Wow, you know, he’s an interesting looking guy.’ And then I once also saw him in a queue for fish and chips and I said, ‘Oh, that’s that guy off the bus’. I’m talking to myself, in my mind I thought, ‘I saw that guy off the bus, oh he’s pretty cool looking. Yeah, you know, he’s a cool guy.’

"I remember John looking... we used to think that John looked pretty cool. He was a bit older than us and he would do a little more greased back hair than we were allowed… so John was quite groovy. He looked like a Ted then - he had a drape. He had nice big sideburns."

"There was a guy up on the platform with curly, blondish hair, wearing a chequered shirt-looking pretty good and quite fashionable - singing a song that I loved: the Del-Vikings ‘Come Go With Me’."

"I know how I saw John. He was just a ted, on the bus – greasy hair, long sideburns, shuffling around like he was Mr Hard. And I saw him on the top deck of the bus often, before I met him. Saw him in the queue at a chip shop once. And I thought, “He looks cool.” Turned out my best friend from school knew him. We went and met. I happened to know this song, ‘Twenty Flight Rock’. John admired that."

"Up on the stage there were a few lads around, and there was one particular guy at the front with a checked shirt, sort of blondish kind of hair... a little bit curly, sideboards, looking pretty cool. [...] He was playing Come Go With Me."

"This Ted would get on the bus. I wouldn't stare at him too hard in case he hit me."

“I just thought, ‘Well, he looks good, he’s singing well and he seems like a great lead singer to me.’ Of course he had his glasses off, so he looked really suave…He was really the only outstanding member, all the rest kind of slipped away.”

"My memory of meeting John for the first time is very clear. … I can still see John now - checked shirt, slightly curly hair [...] I remember thinking, ‘He looks good - I wouldn’t mind being in a group with him.’ … Then, as you all know, he asked me to join the group, and so we began our trip together. We wrote our first songs together, we grew up together and we lived our lives together. And when we’d do it together, something special would happen. There’d be that little magic spark. I still remember his beery old breath when I first met him that day. But I soon came to love that beery old breath. And I loved John."

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

i've been having a couple of downer days recently, and i kept looking for a verse i haven't read thrice yet for some comfort, but you're age! gap verse has been a pleasant escape even though its not what i was looking for. you're writing never fails to make me feel better ari 💕💕

Here's how they met 💜

Bruce sighed. He was starting to hate talk show appearances, but at least this one had never been too bad. Angelique was chatty and fun but not grating. Her show ran as school let out. So grannies watched after their naps and kids watched getting off the bus. She ran a little something for everyone.

He assumed he was here for the grannies.

"I'm so sorry I'm late the shoot ran over and I couldn't get away."

The voice caught his attention. Not the fake starlet over dramatic gushing, but genuine distress. And he half turned to look. You looked like you came from a shoot. Straight off the pages of a glossy magazine.

"No worries, Miss Y/L/N we got your call in enough time. We'll just touch up your face and you'll be good to go," the manager greeting you, said.

Bruce smiled a little. Clearly, you were a frequent guest. You thanked him profusely and trotted off. Not needing to be told where to go. And as you go, there's several crew members you can greet by name. You've either been here a lot or worked with them before. Or both. But, it's endearing.

He turned back around listening to Angelique get her updates on where production was. "-And Y/N is in hair and makeup as we speak."

"Oh, bless her heart," Angelique said. "That's what I get calling her last minute." She turned to Bruce and held out her hand, "Are you ready?" she asked.

"As I'll ever be," he chuckled taking her hand, "You know these sorts of things aren't my forte. My oldest on the other hand-"

"Don't you worry about a thing," Angelique reassured him, patting the hand she was holding before letting it go. "Y/N is an old pro- Ah! speak of the devil!" She swooped over and kissed you on either cheek. "You look absolutely divine, is that one of yours?"

"You know it is," you tell her laughing, returning the gesture. "As if I could walk in and NOT wear my own design, you'd never let me live it down."

"So true. Darling," she said grabbing your hand and pulling you over to Bruce, "I want you to meet Bruce. You'll be on stage together today. You know it's charity week and I though it would be great to highlight all the work you do for school arts programs along side the Wayne foundation," she said.

"Hello," you tell him, holding out your hand.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, taking the hand you offered warmly. Giving you his most charming smile. You did look good. And he could tell they hadn't done much to your face or your hair. "I'm a big fan of your work," he commented.

Your smile didn't falter but your eyes narrowed slightly. And Bruce cringed internally Shit. She thinks I mean the Playboy spread, he thought. "Your last movie, the drama, especially. The range of emotion and the depth- It really was incredible."

"Thank you," you tell him. "It was challenging but I really enjoyed it."

Bruce felt his face heat when Angelique coughed and he remembered hearing that you had the ability to make someone feel like they were the only person in the room. He'd forgotten for just a second. In just that brief moment that he was waiting for an appearance. "It showed I uh- my kids made fun of me when I cried at the end-"

"Aww, Angelique gushed, "This is amazing. you guys keep up this chemistry. It'll go totally viral." She bounced on the balls of her feet and kissed your cheek again, "I'll have someone bring you a coffee, sweetie. You're going to start wilting soon."

And before you could say anything or Bruce could offer to go and get it for you himself, Angelique had bustled off to find and assistant to give marching orders to.

[rbbrbikerthorp]

A New Neighbour Moves In

[Please note: all characters are 18 plus and any reference to boy or girl is purely descriptive or used in dialogue between the characters.]

Mitchell was living the life much like any typical 23 year old male would. He’d graduated university, he had started his career in recruitment for legal and financial services and was starting to earn good monthly commissions on top of his basic salary. He’d used all the money inherited from his grandparents to buy a 1-bedroom flat in a new development, just on the edge of the city centre. Mitchell didn’t have a steady girlfriend – he wasn’t in a long-term relationship place. As he told his mates at the gym, he was a ‘date them and ditch them’ once he’d managed to ‘get them in the sack’ kind of bloke.

It was a Monday morning and Mitchell needed to get to work. First, he had to navigate his way carefully out of the flat where he’d been invited to spend the night. The girl he’d met in the club the previous evening had taken a shine to his blue eyes, rugby toned body and wavy blonde hair. “Another notch on the bedpost,” Mitchell thought as he tiptoed his way out of the girl’s bedroom. Mitchell made it a policy to only meet women in person and he would never exchange contact details. It meant that none of his ‘conquests’ had any idea of how to find him and, as he was enjoying his ‘tom cat’ life so much, he sure didn’t want to be found. He went on his Uber app and requested a taxi. In less than two minutes one had pulled up in front of him. He took one last look up at the window to check the curtains were still closed and the car pulled away from the curb.

He arrived back at his flat in plenty of time to get ready for the day ahead. He shaved his weekend beard growth and then turned on the shower. Whilst the water warmed up, he took a moment to admire himself in the mirror. He loved how beefy his legs looked from the years of playing rugby first in secondary school and then in the university’s first team. His regular attendance at the gym meant he had a well-defined chest and arms. Women loved his bum as it stood out, firm and muscular. Yes, at that moment as he entered the shower cubicle Mitchell was very content with his life, but on this day, things were about to change.

As Mitchell locked his front door, he noticed piles of boxes outside the flat next door. As he turned towards the lifts, he ran into a large man. He barely stopped as he fell into him. Stepping backwards he said, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t see you there.” As the guy regained his balance, Mitchell noticed the man’s shaved head, jeans with bleach marks with tall black boots with white laces tucked into them. Even though he thought of himself as a tough, well-built guy, he stuttered feeling inadequate and intimidated by this stranger. “I…I…I’m Mitchell,” holding out his hand, “n... n… nice to meet you. So, you’re moving in next door? I… I… always wondered who my new neighbour would be? It’s been vacant for ages.

The man smiled, “I’m John and yes, it was quite a steal really. Apparently last owner had been shacked up with his fiancé for the last few months and they were about to get married. I made an offer a bit less than what they were asking for, but, because he needed to put money down as a deposit on a new house, he had no choice but to accept.”

“Well,” Mitchell replied being polite, “I… I… I’ve got to get my bus.”

“Yes, I can see you’re dressed for an office. As you can probably see I’m not a suit person myself.”

Mitchell laughed nervously. Why was he feeling so unsettled by this guy?

“Look, why don’t you drop by when you get home from work. I always like to get to know my new neighbours.”

On the spur of the moment, Mitchell couldn’t think of an excuse not to accept the invitation, so he said, “why not? Must go!” As he walked away, he could sense the man was staring at him. He shouted, “good luck unpacking” and then lowered his voice a little, “weirdo.”

John couldn’t help admiring his good-looking young neighbour’s physique, and he shook his head hearing Mitchell mumbling that last word. He began to create a mental picture of what Mitchell might look like wearing less formal clothing. Tattoos were common on young men of a similar age these days, so John wondered if he had acquired any ink yet. He was sure to find out later when Mitchell would drop in for a chat and John would explain was his lifestyle was all about. John set about unpacking so that he could prepare for his young neighbour’s visit.

It was around 7:30 in the evening when John heard a knock on the door. He opened it to find Mitchell had changed out of his work suit into a t-shirt and sports shorts. “Come in.” It felt more like an order to Mitchell than a pleasantry.

“You got everything unpacked I see.” Mitchell said trying not to stare at the many pairs of tall lace-up boots all lined up by the door; taking in the various bomber jackets hanging on the coat rack and the skinhead themed pictures and posters on the walls.

John noticed Mitchell’s “That’s nothing lad, I’ve got way more kit in the bedroom.”

Mitchell really didn’t want to know any more about what might be in John’s bedroom, “takes all kinds I guess,” he thought as John handed him a beer. The two men chatted, but as Mitchell sipped away at the beer, “wow”, he thought, “this stuff has a real kick.” He found himself becoming more relaxed and more willing give direct answers to John’s questions; about his job, his personal life, his family and friends. Mitchell was hoping that by dressing as though he was going to the gym and John would bring their chat to an end and let him go on his way. Mitchell was starting to fidget as you do when you’re about to stand up. However, John had different ideas, “stay right there lad, and I’ll get us another beer.” Mitchell suddenly found himself wanting to stay and slumped back into the sofa.

“So wh… wh… what do you for a living?” Mitchell asked with a slight stutter and slur as John handed him another glass of beer.

John smiled, “I’m glad you asked. To put it simply I change people.”

“Change people?” Mitchell asked thoroughly bemused.

“Yes, I change people. I take ordinary people, with very traditional upbringings and boring lives and I change them into whatever takes my fancy.” You, young Mitchell are just the sort of person I look for to mould into something more, hmm, you know ‘out-there’.”

Mitchell had downed half the glass of beer at this point.

John continued, “maybe I’ll slowly take them from the lives they are currently leading and over a few hours, a few days, maybe a few weeks transform them. They might end up as a…”

John could sense Mitchell’s fear about what might happen to him but continued, “The next person I change may end up as filthy mohawked punk, a dirty greaser biker, a Leatherman, a goth, a rubber slave. Who knows? It’s whatever takes my fancy at that moment. After a time, I get bored and need a new challenge, so I sell them on to people into the lifestyle and I move on to my next…”

Mitchell couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He opened his mouth to challenge what John was saying but he discovered it wouldn’t move. His heart was pounding, his anxiety levels were on the rise – no matter how hard he tried he was unable to form any words.

“Mitchell, I want you to calm down! Mitchell is such as pompous name, so from now on you’re gonna be called Mike. Now, I will carry on. John pulled out an amber charm which he swung from side to side, glowing eerily in front of Mike’ glazed eyes. When I combine this fine-looking stone with a special ingredient I have – oh you know I added a few drops into your beer, my victims become more… open to the changes I want to make to them. More compliant.” Mike’ eyes were affixed on the stone. “That’s right, just follow the stone, from side-to-side, follow the stone, transfixed by its glowing beauty/” John was comfortable in the knowledge that Mike would soon be his personal boy toy. “Isn’t that the most striking, bright and coloured stone you’ve ever seen Mike?”

He tried to open his mouth in one solitary second of defiance, but all he could managed was a barely audible squeak. His independence, his free will, his ability to fight and think freely had departed. There was no resistance left in Mike. His mind was now mush, the lad could only obey and conform.

John pulled Mike to his feet and dragged him to the bathroom. Once there, he placed him in a chair. “Right Mike, I’ve been thinking all-day about the life I want to give you. How do you fancy being my skinhead son? I’ve always wanted someone I could call a son, but being gay it was never going to happen, and I think you will make the perfect skinhead.” John didn’t wait for Mike to reply - he couldn’t; he did however see the confusion and distress in Mike’ eyes. He chuckled to himself.

John walked over to the bathroom cabinet and took out several items: some electric clippers, scissors, a pack of Mach 3 razors and a can of shaving cream. Turning his head to look at the boy, he smiled, “Only real men have hair. So, yours needs to go Mike. I’ll start on your legs and then your chest, all of that lovely blonde hair on your head and not forgetting the parts in-between. I’m going to enjoy getting rid of that wavy blonde hair. When I’m done, you’ll have a perfectly smooth bonehead.” John cut through the lad’s t-shirt revealing a well-defined torso. Staring at the blank canvas and thinking what he would do to it, he couldn’t help but squeeze one of Mike’ nipples. John detected the tiniest of yelps, so he squeezed the other nipple. There was no reaction this time, Mike’ mind was lost. He continued to stare into the  amber jewel that was hanging in front of his face.

John turned on the clippers, starting with the boy’s left leg. Hair started falling in clumps on the floor. Once the left leg was done, he moved on to the right one. Soon John was wiping them down with a cloth, applying a astringent lotion so that the smooth skin shone in the bathroom lights and after a few more applications, regrowth would never be a problem. Then it was onto the chest. Although Mike was only in his early twenties, he’d already got quite a covering of fur, which John’s clippers made quick work of. Mike’s arms were also denuded of hair. John turned off the clippers and, with the same cloth, applied more of the special lotion to the recently clipped areas.

John stood up and smiled. He paused for a second, “this is the last time there will be any hair growing on your head.” He pressed the on switch, and after hearing the familiar ‘clack’ he began ploughing all the way through the boy’s golden locks. In no time at all Mike was motionless sitting in the chair with a zero-grade cut. John picked up the can of shaving cream, squirted it into his hands and rubbed it copiously all over Mike’ head. He took the necessary time to ensure all the fuzz was removed and Mike’ head felt like a cue-ball. In no time at all there was a shiny hairless skinhead son sitting in front of him.

Looking down, John smiled as Mike’ identity lay on the floor in clumps. He looked up at Mike who was sitting perfectly still, with the same glazed eyes and dazed expression on his face, oblivious to the changes being made without his consent. He took the cloth, poured some more lotion into it and rubbed it into his son’s head.

“Stand,” John ordered. Mike complied, happily obeying his skinhead master. The sports shorts were pulled down over the now smooth legs and John stood back as he grabbed the clippers. “Now boy, I need you to get nice ‘n’ hard so I can make sure I get all your hair… down there...” He watched as slowly but surely there was movement in Mike’ groin. John grinned as in no time at all full mast was achieved. “Very nice boy,” John said out loud, “I bet you were popular with the women. Is that six, possibly seven inches? Good and think as well. Unfortunately for you, you’re not going to have much use of it as my son, but it will look amazing with a thick gauge PA, and a Jacob’s ladder.”

‘Clack’, John turned on the clippers and began the removal of the last remaining hairs on Mike’ body. He had to hold himself back as he rubbed the special lotion into the skin around the groin and on the mounds that had once been covered in thick hair. When he was satisfied the boy was as smooth as the day he was born, John left the bathroom to get something from his bedroom. When he returned Mike hadn’t moved, he was still lost in the stone “Now here I have the perfect thing to complete you. Now stay perfectly still.”

Later, John walked into the main room of the flat dressed in full skinhead gear. As he gazed at his newly denuded skinhead son, he felt his manhood straining inside a pair of skin-tight bleachers, which were turned-up and touching the top of a pair of 30-hole red ranger style boots. He was looking lustfully at the 23-year-old standing to attention, still wearing the expression, he had when the amber jewel turned him into the compliant vessel he now was. “It’s time for the next stage in your transformation lad.” With that John walked over to a cupboard an opened the doors.

The cupboard contained piles of skinhead gear from boots to bleachers to braces to bomber jackets. First, he instructed Mike to put on a yellow jockstrap. “You’ll be wearing this non-stop for a few days – it needs to get in nice ‘n’ ripe.” Then he passed the boy a t-shirt, which Mike willingly slipped over his head. “These are your bleachers; they’ve got two zips – front and rear – you’ll soon find out why,” he grinned, “slip them on.” Mike pulled up the tight-fitting jeans that had been liberally splashed with bleach. Mike didn’t take any notice of the fact that they’d been cut off just below the knee and turned up so that they would show the full extent of the boots he would almost always be wearing when he wasn’t in his work gear. John walked across to Mike carrying a pair of red braces which he attached to the bleachers, pulling them right up his bum crack – so much so that Mike let out a little groan. To finish this stage of the transformation, John handed Mike the left boot. It was black with 20 eyelets and partly laced. John talked Mike through how to ladder lace the boot tightly and perfectly. John fitted a padlock at the very top of the boot before handing over the right one. When John was happy with the way that one was laced, he fitted another padlock. “Stand!” Mike stood up. “Turn to look in the mirror, see the Skinhead son I’ve created. This is what you are now a proud skinhead and my skinhead son.

“Now, we can begin your training. Kneel!” Mike complied. “I know your tongue will still be a bit tender, so I’ll be gentle. Open!” John commanded, and with that he slid his cock into Mike’ open mouth. “Move your tongue slowly, showing how much your love the bottom of your skinhead dad’s cock. Make sure you keep your lips tightly closed as I don’t want you to spill anything.”

He sat back as his cock was held between Mike’ virgin lips and soon found himself about to cum as the hard stud, he had introduced to the lad’s tongue work its magic. The combination of it all and the sensitivity soon had John unloading his massive load. “Swallow!” Mike swallowed quickly trying not to “spill’ as he had been instructed. John soon slid from the lips of his new son and quickly zipped up his own bleachers. “Yes,” John thought, studying the boy who, in addition to the tongue piercing also had a stud in each lobe and four more studs all the way up each of his ears. Mike would serve him well as his skinhead son, but first he needed to complete the lad’s transformation. “Right son, let’s go – I need you to see a friend of mine.”

With that John grabbed a green bomber jacket with orange lining and threw it to Mike, “put it on,” he instructed. Mike slipped on what he would get to know as an MA1 and followed John out of the flat. Right away he found it strange walking in heavy soled, tightly laced boots, but he didn’t complain – he couldn’t.

The skinhead and son waited a few minutes at the bus stop before one came along heading in the direction of the city centre. They alighted just before the main shopping area. It was an area that would be unfamiliar to Mitchell, but Mike was oblivious to everything now. He obeyed his skinhead dad, just as any good son would do. The two skinheads walked side by side into a small industrial estate. One of the units had a sign saying, ‘Anaconda Tattoo Studio and Piercing’. John walked ahead of Mike, as they got to the door, John walked in but for a second Mike hesitated. John knew this sometimes happened, especially with all the distractions of the outdoors. He pulled the amber stone out of his pocket and held it in front of Mike. “This way boy,” he ordered. Mike complied; his eyes once again completely transfixed on the glow of the jewel.

Once inside the tattoo studio, John turned to Mike, “stand here son. I need to talk to the owner.” Mike waited as instructed. Despite tattoos being made popular by the countless athletes and celebrities who adorned their bodies with intricate permanent markings, the old Mitchell would have never crossed the threshold foot into a tattoo studio. But here was Mike waiting to submit to whatever his skinhead dad was discussing with the owner.

John came out of the back office followed by a hulk of a man who was wearing tight leather trousers, a black vest, which exposed his muscular arms covered in tattoos, shaved head with long unkempt beard and on his feet were heavy biker boots. “Son this is Griff, he’s going to give you some more piercings and your tattoos. But first, you are to strip down to your jockstrap. When you’ve done that, go over there and sit in the chair. From now on you will do exactly what Griff tells you to do. He’s going to give you your first marks to show the world that you’re a proud skinhead. After you’ve got your first ink, he’s going to give you some more metal. I’m going to leave you for a bit, but I’ll be back to see the finished work.” Turning to Griff, John said, “he’s all yours.”

Griff walked over to Mike wearing only his jockstrap  sitting obediently in the chair. Since John had already removed all the boy’s hair, Griff simply wiped clean the areas to be tattooed and then laid the first outline template on the skin. His machine was then started up, some ink was added, and the needle started to buzz.

He then began applying the needle over the site of the first tattoo, Mike felt a dull pain but didn’t flinch. Once the first tattoo on the boy’s left arm was completed, Griff went on to add the other tattoos as instructed by John. He started work on a full sleeve on Mike’s right arm, which would take four or five visits to complete. Then he added a bulldog to the rear of the lad’s right calf. Finally, two swallows were added to the back of the each of the lad’s hands. Griff whispered into Mike’s ear, “that’s all I’m doing now lad. John has booked half a dozen more sessions, so you’ll be coming back to get your neck, back and chest inked, and I can finish off the full sleeve. Now stay still. There’s a couple more things to do. Griff pushed away his tattoo cart and returned with another.

Griff looked at the docile boy in the chair. I think we will start with the nipples. Griff played, stroked and flicked them for a few moments until they were firm. He then slipped a needle through the left nipple, at which point Mike squealed. He then installed a barbell through the hole left by the needle and screwed a ball onto either end. He repeated the process for the right nipple. “No touching lad.” Griff then turned his attention to the lad’s groin and applied a topical cream to the so-called policeman’s helmet (bell-end to others). “Right, we’ll give that a little while to take effect and, in the meantime, we can sort out your nose piercing. This will hurt, but only for a second.” Griff then picked up a clean needle from his trolley and quickly passed it through the front part of the septum. Mike’s eyes began watering, so he knew the boy was feeling the pain from the intrusion of the needle. Carefully he inserted a ring into the boy’s septum, and then said out loud, “That will take six weeks or so to heal, then John wants it swapped for a bigger ring.” Now, the cream should have dulled your senses on your knob so let’s add the final bit of metal you’re getting today. He wiped the area to be pierced with an antiseptic skin cleanser, put a mark where the piercing was to be made, and begin the piercing process. The most painful moment for Mike in the piercing process was when the piercing needle punctured his urethra. One the needle was through, Griff inserted a circular barbell and spoke again, “don’t worry if you feel a bit of discomfort – a dull, throbbing pain that’s to be expected.

At that moment the door opened, and John walked in carrying a large shopping bag. “He’s all done, just as you instructed John. Don’t forget to leave the starter jewellery in for six weeks – no less, and make sure you use the aftercare solution. After that we can do a bit of stretching to your liking.”

As the days turned into weeks. John had started his son on the path to being a smoker. First, he gave him a gum to chew to introduce nicotine into the body, then he encouraged him to vape. When he felt there was an addiction starting, he told the boy to smoke cigarettes, starting him on five a day, and quickly moving onto ten, then fifteen. Within a couple of weeks, he was getting through a pack a day.

Mike also kept up his weekly visits to Griff, as more of his skin was covered with ink. Over the period, the full sleeve was completed, the Union flag was tattooed on the back of Mike’s next, the word skinhead was tattooed in script of his back and the letters that made up the word skinhead were inked on his knuckles and finally a Celtic cross was inked on the left pectoral. On the most recent visit Griff replaced the rings in his septum and PA with heavier gauges. As per John’s instructions, he also replaced the studs in his ears with rings and the ones in the lobes with spreaders. Mike joined his skinhead dad in a new gym, one that was run by an ex-boxer friend of John’s. John made sure to get Mike in the boxing ring so that his pretty boy face could get roughed up a bit. John wanted his son to look a bit freakier.

Mike didn’t look like the sort of person who would work in an office anymore, so he was signed up to work in the city council’s recycling centre – they were always in need of people to sort through other people’s waste. Five days a week he stood by a conveyor belt dressed in dirty Hi-Viz gear, and safety boots separating glass, metal, plastic, paper and cardboard into different bins.

After work, the boy would return to his skinhead dad’s flat, which was much bigger now that the wall had been knocked through joining what was Mitchell’s flat and John’s flat together. This night was special because as soon as he got home, Mike got out of his stinking workie gear he’d be in since just after dawn and into the skinhead gear his dad left out for him. Tonight, skinhead dad would be introducing his skinhead son to the lads in the pub. Mike dressed in his bleachers, a black Fred Perry, yellow socks and red 20-hole boots. Mike was ready in time for his dad to return home. John walked through the door and saw the perfect skinhead son standing there. “C’mon son. You’re gonna meet your skin bruders.”

[jimblejamblewritings]

Hey, you could do an Edward Cullen x reader where the reader is his blood singer but, unlike Bella, isn't obsessed with him? As if he really had to work hard to win her over? (sorry if i wrote something wrong, english is not my mother tongue)

Taking It Slow

You dropped Jessica and Angela off at Jess’ car still in the parking lot of the dress shop. They were leaving Port Angeles early while you were going to meet your brother for dinner later. Sometimes you wondered why you agreed to move in with your brother. Well, you knew. It was either go live with your older brother or move to Portugal during your last years of high school. You learned French in school, not Portuguese. Forks, Washington was your only real choice. 

There was still some time before your brother got out of classes and met you. It was nice of him to let you use his car, stating he could take the bus instead. With time to kill, you decided to grab a coffee and just walk around. A gasp left your mouth when you ran into someone. 

“I’m so sorry. Oh, hi, Edward.” 

You looked up to see Edward Cullen, your… you didn’t know what to call him. You guys weren’t really friends. But what exactly were you supposed to call the vampire you knew who claimed your blood was made for them? Aside from telling him that it wasn’t exactly a compliment you were a blood singer, you didn’t know what to do with Edward. He wasn’t mean. On the contrary, he was a decent guy. But you weren’t the type to just fall for someone because they were hot and nice. Plus, you didn’t like your guys having all the girls falling for him. 

Edward scratched at the back of his head. “Hi. Oh, I wasn’t following you, by the way.” 

You pursed your lips for a moment. “I wasn’t exactly worried about that.” 

“Right, sorry, I’m kind of guessing. I promised not to read your mind so I’m not really sure anymore.” 

“You could just ask.” 

“Right, right. Uh, right, do you want another coffee?” 

“I’m actually meeting my brother for dinner.” 

“Well can I walk you?” 

“Sure.” 

The two of you were side by side with each other. You could feel Edward twitching next to you. The vampire wasn’t sure what was going on with him. He had never planned on getting close to you but he couldn’t help it. It was impossible not to want to be near his blood singer. He felt awkward and unsure about everything he did when it came to you. He wasn’t even sure if you were still single because you knew of his feelings for you or if you just didn’t like any of the boys that asked you out. 

Your brother raised an eyebrow when he saw you coming up the street. A sigh left your mouth. He was going to ask about Edward and you just didn’t have the patience to answer anything. You gave a wave to your walking companion and entered the restaurant. Like you expected, your brother didn’t stop asking questions. He wouldn’t even give it a rest when he dropped you off at school. 

You always got to school a little early because of your brother’s classes. You blinked in surprise at a very tall and rather pale man standing next to your locker. Awkwardly, Edward stuck out a hand. He was clutching a small bouquet of flowers. 

“I don’t know what your favorite is but I thought these daisies were nice.” 

You took them from him. “Thank you, Edward.” 

He nodded, walking off. You held the bouquet in the crook of your elbow as you grabbed some books. Not even a minute later, Edward came back. You watched him take in a breath he didn’t need. Edward pointed at the flowers until you got the hint to give them back. He thrusted them out in front of you once more and you had to stop yourself from laughing. How was a century old vampire so awkward in life? 

“I want to ask you out. Do you want to go on a date with me?” 

“Where?” 

“I… I haven’t thought that far.” 

“Well, when, then?” 

“I haven’t thought that far.” 

You took the flowers back from him. “It’s a Teacher Work Day on Wednesday. You pick me up at seven, we drive to Seattle. Breakfast at the Original Starbucks and then we go to the waterfront.” 

Edward was flustered, muttering a small okay. You laughed as you watched him walk away. This was certainly going to be an interesting date. 

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107​ @i-have-no-life-charlie

[familyvideostevie]

october twelfth

day twelve: james potter you encounter james at the bus stop | fluff, pre-relationship, flirty friends | 1.1k

The dark clouds loom ominously as you wait for the bus. It’s the best way to get to the pub for the birthday party you’ve been invited to. You don’t know the birthday girl that well, but Lily invited you because she’s nice like that and you don’t have anything else to do tonight.

Your small gift — a bottle of wine — is in your bag and you’re glad you brought your umbrella because you are almost positive it’s going to start raining any second and you’ve got a nice outfit on.

A fall wind rips down the street and you pull your coat closer, eager to be at the pub already with a drink in your hand to warm you up. You wonder who else will be there. Frank, of course, and Lily and the girls. Sirius and Remus and…James. They’re all new friends, all people who seem to like you, and you can’t help but hope that one person in particular will be there.

And then the skies open. You fumble with your umbrella for just a second before it pops open and keeps you dry. It’s absurdly big — an old flatmate left it behind when she moved out so you took it. You could fit three people under here and you hope the wind dies down otherwise you might be like Mary Poppins flying down the street pretty soon.

You check your watch. The bus isn’t due for almost ten minutes.

There isn’t anyone else waiting for the bus though the street isn’t deserted, instead dotted with people pulling out their umbrellas and hurrying to wherever they’re headed. Heavy footsteps clomp to your right and you turn to see who is running in this weather. It’s someone rather tall who inspects the bus stop sign and then curses. He pulls off his wet glasses and runs a hand through dripping dark hair.

Oh shit, you think. You know this guy.

“James?” you call. You don’t know if he’ll recognize you, truly, even if you’re a bit infatuated with him, but you’ve met him a few times at dinners and parties and such, so surely he will? You think of him as Lily’s cutest ex-boyfriend in your head to stop yourself from calling him hot James.

He looks up at you, squints, then puts his glasses back on and grins.

He calls your name and waves but doesn’t move. Thank god he remembers it. “James, come here. You’re going to get soaked!”

Water splashes under his shoes as he jogs over and under your umbrella. It’s big, sure, but it feels much smaller with him hunched under it with you.

“Bit late for that,” he says. “Can I hold it?” He’s taller than any of your other friends so you hand over the handle and he shuffles a bit closer, raising the canopy to a better height for him. “Thank you,” he says with genuine warmth.

“Of course,” you reply automatically. You get a bit silly around him, which Lily has teased you about, but you can’t help it. He’s so handsome and quite flirty and very nice.

“Are you going to Alice’s birthday?”

You nod and he grins again.

“Brilliant,” he says. “I am too. Thought I’d miss the bus so I left without one of these.”

James strikes you as someone who does not carry an umbrella even when he knows it’s going to rain. You wonder if he lives around here. Maybe you’re neighbors.

“Lucky I’m here then.”

He turns his body a bit so he’s facing you more directly. “Yes, lucky indeed.”

“What did you get her?” you ask. How do you make small talk, again? You’re not terribly sure how to speak to James. All you know about him is that he and Lily dated at school, he’s tall and handsome, and he plays some sort of sport. And you’ve certainly got a small, tiny, totally manageable crush on him.

“What?”

“Alice,” you clarify. “For her birthday.”

“Oh,” he says. He looks sheepish. “I forgot, actually. Bit classic of me, I’m afraid. What did you get?”

“Wine.”

“Clever girl,” he says. You feel warm down to your toes. “She loves wine.” He sounds genuine in his praise. “I’ll just buy her some shots when we get there.”

You like how quickly this has turned into we, even if you’re just taking the same bus to the same party. It feels nice to be going with him. There’s something about him that’s…magnetic.

“When is your birthday?” you ask.

James looks a bit surprised. You’ve surprised yourself. Water runs down his nose as he studies you. “March,” he says. “The 27th.”

“Aries,” you say softly.

He winks, so quick you might have imagined it. “Well done. When’s yours?”

You tell him and he nods. “I’m no good with star signs, I’m afraid, so I’ve no idea which one you are.”

He sounds so genuinely put out that you laugh. James chuckles with you.

“Why do you ask?” Great question.

You shrug. “I just like to know. Maybe I’ll get you a present.”

James looks delighted. “Really? Well, now I’m absolutely getting you one.” Is this flirting? Are you flirting with James Potter under your own umbrella while waiting for the bus?

“I guess you’ll have to find out,” you say, nose turned up. Your face feels a bit hot despite the chill. You’re about to make another quip when James moves very quickly and suddenly his arm is around you, tugging you away from the curb moments before a car rushes by and sprays water all over where you were standing.

“Sorry,” he says. He releases you and situates himself so that the umbrella handle is between you once more. “Saw that coming. And those are nice shoes.”

“Thank you,” you say, a bit shy. You would like him to touch you again.

“In fact, all of you looks quite lovely despite the fact that it’s raining absolute buckets.”

Yeah, definetly flirting. “James,” you chastise, but he looks downright pleased that he’s flustered you.

The bus rounds the corner.

“And we were just starting to have fun.” He fumbles for his bus pass in his pocket. “Will you sit with me?” A silly question.

“Of course,” you say through a smile. “You can hold this, though.” You point to the umbrella. “Don’t let it drip on my shoes.”

He gasps as the bus pulls to a stop. “I’d never.” His palm is firm on your back for just a second before you get on the bus. Maybe tonight’s birthday party will be more fun than you’d hoped.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[sideblogfornothing]

We got a super interesting שיחה in school yesterday. They brought in an ex Muslim who converted to Judaism.

He started by telling us what his childhood was like, horrific shit let me tell you.

He explained how women are treated, and how they literally have no rights.

He explained how they would get beatings for being "disrespectful." He explained how if you were a "bad kid" like he was, you would get beaten. He said that he wanted to understand, so he would ask questions like "why do they have to pray at the mosque, why not just pray at home?" He said he got slapped for asking.

He talked about his sister, who was also disrespectful, he said that she got fed up, refused to do a chore or something and she got severely beaten. He told us how she would get beaten worse than anything we could imagine. He talked a bit more about how they treated his sister.

Then he told us how one day she convinced his brothers and father to let her get a job, (and give them all the money of course) and they let her.

One day she came back home a bit late, her brother's asked her why she was home late, and she explained how her friend took her to a shopping mall. Aperiently in Islam girls going to malls is illegal or something so they fucking killed her. (the reason was that she had supposedly dishonored the family, but omfg that's horrible.)

The guy explained how he was in his shared room with the rest of his brothers, he heard screaming, and his sister pleading for her life, and then pure silence.

He said that his brother opened the door, and before him was a gruesome sight he would never forget.

He was 9 years old or younger at the time btw.

So after that whole incident, his family decided to send him to study in a boarding school in Gaza. (I don't remember the name, I'm terrible with names.) Anyways, so he explained that he walked in and immediately he noticed that there were no tables or chairs. Later when he came to the sleeping quarters he realized there were also no beds. He inquired why, and was met with shock, confusion and some shitty explanation about how Muslims must be as close to the earth as possible or something like that.

So the way the school worked was that they study the Koran all day from 7:00 to 23:00 and then they sleep. He talked about how talking was forbidden and that you would get severely beaten at best if you were caught uttering a word. He than mentioned how he knew people who had lost their lives over a sentence.

When he was 12 and a half he was called to the principal's office, aperiently they thought he was "ready" something something that I didn't quite catch, ummm they taught them that Jews are the ultimate evil, that the greatest thing they could ever do would be to kill a Jew. Aperiently they were taught that killing a Jew would secure their place in heaven.

He explained that Muslims are willing to die to kill a Jew, cause if they die killing a Jew they are automatically going to heaven.

He said that he remembered that back home they would sometimes work with Jews, so he asked if it's ok to help a Jew. Like an elderly Jew or something. He was beaten until he couldn't walk for simply suggesting such a thing.

After that he was a bitch to the teacher again, he got beat and then they said they were sending him off. He was happy cause he thought he was being sent home, but turns out they were just sending him. To a different branch of the same school.

Once he arrived he immediately started hatching an escape plan.

He made a rule for himself that he would only ask each person 1 question.

Eventually he figured it out, hopped in a taxi or bus (I don't remember sorry) and made his way back home. The first thing he saw was his mother, who wouldn't even look at him because his brothers were nearby.

His brothers saw him, yelled at him said that he and the school would regret letting him come home ect. He said that he looked at his older brother and told him that he isn't the little 9 year old he was when they sent him off, they didn't know what he'd been through, and that he came home so he could be home and there was nothing they could do about it. And he reminded them of what they did to their sister, and said that he would tell the cops.

The brother raged something something (sorry I have a shit memory) eventually they decided to let him stay home, but he could not leave the house, and he had to do all the chores and probably something else im forgetting. They said that if he disobeyed what they did to their sister would seem miniscule in comparison to what they would do to him.

He decided that he would escape the moment he got the chance. And after 2 weeks, he got his chance. One of his brothers left the house key in his pocket, he pickpocketed him, unlocked the door in the middle of the night and ram away.

He knew that his family would be looking for him, waiting to kill him, so he hid in a graveyard for 10 days.

At some point he left to go look for scrap's, when he came across some Jew who had a baguette. He weighed his options and eventually decided that food came before the morals he's been taught.

So he approachs the Jew, and asks him if he speaks Arabic (in Arabic obviously) and the Jew says he does (In Arabic of course.) so he tells him that his brothers killed his sister, and their going to kill him too and can he pleaseee have some food.

The guy thinks he's pulling his leg, tells him to get lost something something the guy gets convinced and gives him some food and water.

Eventually (I don't remember what happened sorry) he ends up driving him to the central bus station in tel Aviv, hands him some money, and directs him to a bus, tells him to get off in Eilat, he says that what Eilat is, the guy tells him to get off where everyone gets off.

The bus was full of idf soldiers so it was very awkward and probably scarry for this guy to be on that bus.

He gets off where everyone gets off, lives on the streets for a while, until some guy who was also on the streets (they saw each other everyday,) approachs him to ask him what his deal is the guy doesn't understand Hebrew, so turns out this guy is fluent in Arabic. They talk the guy explains his deadly situation and this guy tells him that he has a brother who's could get him into a boarding school.

Now, a boarding school?! Boarding schools are awful! Remember what it was like!?? Hell no! So he obviously declines the offer, but this guy is persistent. So eventually he agrees, he goes this guy becomes like a father figure to him, reminder he's like 14-15 ish at this time.

So this guy takes him in, he's In shock, food water a roof for free??? Omg awesome! So he goes to this school, he learns Hebrew and life is good. But now his 18th birthday is approaching and he decides he wants to join the army. So he tells the guy, and other people in charge who kindly tell him can't but he explained how the more people explained why he couldn't he grew more and more convinced he could.

Eventually, this one guy in charge gets tired of this and tells him that if he can get his parents to sigh a permission slip he can. So naturally, his family will kill him if he shows up, so he tells this guy something like he should take to his parents without dying and something something he ends up being allowed to join.

Around this part we ran out of time so yeah.

I really feel like this guy's life story is important to share especially right now with everyone glorifying Islam and all that.

Islam is a religion built on murder. Kabam I'm tired sorry for the long post.

[hils79]

Hils Watches Lovely Runner - Ep 2

Bless her she's trying

Cannot relate to being this excited to be back at school 😂

Is this going to be like Back to the Future where she ends up going back to 2022 and her brother is a famous actor instead of having a stressful office job

I would do the same tbh

Ah, I'm guessing he's her old crush from school and the other side of what I'm sure will be a love triangle. He's cute. Love me a bad boy.

Of course the bad boy is the guitarist in a band. LMAO first stan experience.

I mean high school girls aren't well known for their good taste. But come on he may not look like an idol but he's cute

Aww she confessed to him the day before she jumped into her teenage body

Confession: When I was in school I wrote a letter not quiet as poetic as this and gave it to my crush. I would legit be mortified if I had to relive that experience. I'm cringing now just thinking about it and it was nearly 30 years ago

She is not having a good day. Forced to relieve one of her most cringe memories and now rejected by her idol.

I appreciate the romantic gesture of him chasing after bus when she got stuck and couldn't get off but it's full of students so it can't have been going that far before it would have stopped again. They were acting like she was going to wind up in another city

All teenagers are annoying to some degree, especially when you're in your 30s

Oh, that's fun! If she tries to tell him about the future time freezes to stop anyone hearing

Ah, of course bad boy's dad is a cop

Time for some wound tending. No drama is complete without it.

All that time her idol lived opposite her and she had no idea. I'd be losing my mind.

OH! The pervy guy who won't return his rented copy of Basic Instinct is Sunjae's dad. Can't believe I didn't realise that until now

OMG SUNJAE HAD IT THE WHOLE TIME! I love how this flips from angsty to sweet to hilarious very quickly.

Of course she's got PTSD after getting hit by a car. But why are all these cars driving across a pedestrian crossing in the first place?

More emotionally significant umbrellas. Aww they actually met earlier when she mistook him for a package courier.

She's the reason he likes the sweets that she gave him in 2022 and she has no idea! Have I mentioned that I love time travel as a plot device?

Wait has he had a crush on her this whole time? Then all of a sudden (from his perspective) she started acting all weird and following him around. I kind of love this!

LMAO and he grabbed the nearest tape in a panic when she woke up and gave his dad's name. It was Basic Instinct of course. I love this! I have to say this drama isn't predictable at all. It's doing a lot of fun things with what could easily have been a very common tropey story

HE'S BEEN PINING THIS WHOLE TIME! Look how happy he is when she tried to friend him online. He clicked the reject button by accident. I am so delighted.

Ooh that photo just appeared on the table. The future is changing!

Okay, I am fully on board with this now. It's pushing all of my buttons.

[katierosefun]

Hello :))) So, i was today years old when i learned you had a girlfriend (if i’m not mistaken) and somehow it means a lot to me as you’re one of my comfort blog and that i’ve been struggling with my own sexuality for a while. (I hope it does not come off as weird this is really not my intention 😭) So i was wondering if you would mind sharing how you two met as i love hearing about queer love stories coming from real people and not only in fiction (somehow i need to be reminded that yes, it can happen in real life too for me??) If and only if you’re comfortable doing so of course!!!

aww hi anon! first of all, thank you so much for the kind words--i'm so glad to hear that my blog is a source of comfort for you. and also, re: your sexuality--i'm sending you so much love! i know how scary and how overwhelming it can be to still be figuring out your sexuality and navigating your own queerness, so please remember to have some compassion for yourself, and please know that you're not alone.

as for my girlfriend: yes! i do in fact have one, and we've been together for a little over a year and a half now. we'll be going on two years pretty soon, which is all very exciting!

as for how we met: it's all a pretty funny story, because we actually met while we were both in college. and also right during that first covid summer too. we started off as long-distance friends, bonding our love for star wars and writing.

anyways, i totally had a crush on her, although i was trying to play it off most of the time. the fact that we lived in separate cities was another factor too, of course.

fast forward to a few years later, when we've both graduated college. i've just started my first year of law school; she's working at this point. we're still texting and calling each other a bit, and then i tell her, oh yeah, i'm going out on a date with this guy.

and just like something from a kdrama or a movie or something, this ridiculous, lovely woman texts me as i'm boarding the bus for my date. her text? hey, i dreamed about you last night! we were sitting on a park bench together and we were holding hands :)

and of course, at this point, i still have a disastrous crush on her (hence why i spent a lot of time dating all these random guys in my junior and senior year of college, because i was like i gotta just get over this), but anon, that text message was the other shoe dropping on my brain. i decided right then and there that enough is enough, i'm gonna call her tomorrow and tell her i like her, so she can't just say stuff like that anymore because i don't think i can take it anymore.

so we arrange to have a phone call the next day, and we chat, and of course, true to form, i have to have some liquid courage on me (peach soju, btw . . . but turns out, if you're jittery enough, you don't even feel the alcohol, because i still remember every detail). anyways, at some point, we're chatting, and then i blurt out, "i like you."

and she goes, "i like you too."

and i went, "no, i mean i like you more than a friend. as in i like you."

and she goes, "uh, yeah. i like you to do. the feeling's mutual."

and of course, i didn't know what to say to that. like, i swear i was just like "??? what?" because the thing is, i had this whole speech planned out in my head--something like i like you, and you don't like me like that, so i'm sorry that this is awkward, and i can just take care of my own feelings, but i just really needed to say that so that we're both on the same page--

so to say i was pretty stunned would be an understatement! so cue a lot of laughter and flustering, and fast forward to today, with her living with me for the summer (because of course, she'll need to go back to work and i'll have to go back to school once august hits), and we talk about how many pets we're going to have one day (she has this hobby of sending me videos of increasingly exotic animals and going "??? so can we have this as a pet? :)"), and we've talked about what our wedding is going to be like (as well as what our wedding will not be like) . . .

this is just a whole lot of details, but as you might be the first one to ask me about this lovely person on this webbed site, of course i'm going to ramble and gush--but anon, to give you some hope here, queer love is a beautiful thing and it certainly happens.

personally, i would love to go back in time and find my sad high school self and go "hey, hang in there, because you're gonna be lucky enough to finally fall in love with someone who's kind and warm and patient and loving, and she's going to encourage you to be a better person, and she's going to make friends with literally every single stranger on the street (much to your partial exasperation and partial wonder), and she's going to be really bad at staying hydrated, and she's going to take so many photographs of everything, and she's going to make friendship bracelets on your bed, and she's going to almost fight the secretary at a dentist's office for you (while you tug at her sleeve and go come on, i'm fine, let's just go), and she's going to recite and write poetry that you keep both on your walls and also in your head, and her grandma is going to show you the dorkiest photos she has of this silly, lovely, beautiful person who you love."

so: all that to say, anon, i hope that gave you some hope! it's such a long journey for some of us, but i promise that queer love is out there and healthily alive, and yeah, sometimes they're just as good (or even better) than those that you find in fiction :)

[fizzigigsimmer]

Moonwood: Part 5

Thank you all so much for your patience. We're baaaaack with an update.

|Part One Here|

It’s pretty stupid in Steve’s opinion that he still needs to get his mom to sign a permission slip to go to basketball camp, even though he’s eighteen.

“I don’t want to hear it Harrington.” The coach says when Steve tracks him down. “I can’t let you on the bus without a permission slip.”

Hank says it’s because the school doesn’t want to be liable if something happens to them out in the woods – and Steve can’t help but shiver a little at the way he says it. Like he expects something or knows something Steve doesn’t. But he tells himself he’s being crazy. Anything could happen in a national park but that doesn’t mean something is going to. There’s gotta be like safe areas mapped out for the public, right? It’s probably a good thing the slip reads like a contract: I understand the risk my child is taking and waive my rights to be pissed about it if they get chewed on by a grizzly bear. It shows they’ve thought things through. At least Steve hopes they’ve thought it through – if he’s honest, he’s not sure how he feels about spending a week in the woods with a bunch of keyed up guys all jonesing to impress Billy Hargrove.

Because it’s pretty obvious after the first round that the team captains have a lot of pull with the coach.

“Hey sweetheart!” Steve’s mom is in the living room, working on some crochet toy for a neighbor who is having a baby. Steve had no idea she could crochet until she started making the toy. Apparently, she was pretty crafty before she met his dad. Steve’s dad didn’t think it was a sexy enough hobby or something. Said it was for old women and spinsters.

“How was tryouts?” Aunt Julie asks when he walks in. She’s knitting what looks like a hooded onesie with ears and a fluffy tail attached. It’s pretty damn cute.

“Wasn’t much of a tryout. The coach wasn’t even there, and the captains just ran us ragged the whole time.” He grumbles, shrugging his duffle off his shoulder and throwing himself down onto the couch beside his mom. She she laughs as the cushions sag beneath his weight.

“Coach Brown is a godsend to that school. He knows how to pick the right personalities, people who really work well together and form a solid bond.” Aunt Julie sighs wistfully. “It was much different when your mom and I were in school. There was a lot of tension between us and the Schiller folks. I felt like I was always on my guard, looking over my shoulder.”

“What’s up with that, by the way?” Steve asks, eager to finally have an explanation for the weird vibes everyone seems to have about Moonwood. “Why are people like, scared of this place? It can’t just be because of the forest.”

Steve’s mom and his aunt share a strange look.

“They’re scared of us. Because we’re different.” Aunt Julie says, but before Steve can ask her what she means his mom is shaking her head and hissing something at Julie in Lythan. They go back and forth like that for a moment and Steve just knows that they’re talking about him, and he’s sick of being left in the dark.

“Whoa whoa whoa, guys!” He snaps. “In english please! I’m right here and I want to know what’s going on. Mom?”

Steve’s mom looks tortured, like Steve is holding a lighter to her feet. His aunt heaves a heavy sigh and flips her long dark hair over her shoulder.

“It’s time to tell him Jess. The bonfire is tomorrow night.”

Steve wants to know what’s going on and why everyone keeps talking about the bonfire as if it’s so important, when it’s just a bunch of people from the neighborhood getting together to tell ghost stories and get plastered. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting his mom to say but it’s not that she’s a werewolf.

He thinks she’s pulling his leg at first, cause what else can she be doing but then aunt Julie chimes in and they both just won’t stop. They tell him that the people in their village have always turned into wolves and that they came to the new world to escape persecution. He’s kind of mad at himself, how long he listens until they get to the part with the witch.

“Time out! Time out! You expect me to believe you guys, grandma and grandpa and all the rest, you’re werewolves, and everybody knows about it because you fought a witch?” Steve laughs even though it’s not really funny and waits for them – but nobody laughs with him.

“Yes. She’d put a curse on the village and the people there to force them to pay tithes and make sacrifices to her.” His mom says and his aunt nods, continuing.

“When the townspeople rose against her, her coven came to exact their vengeance. The pack protected them, and in exchange we were given this land. Although the area has grown and many new people have come, there are people dedicated to keeping the old truce alive.”

“That’s why you needed to know before the bonfire. There will be representatives from the other towns there, new and old. There will be a demonstration and the pact between our communities will be renewed.” His mom finishes.

Steve gets up and stomps off. He is mad. He is so mad that she would play such a weird stupid prank on him instead of just being honest; but mostly he’s afraid. He’s afraid because it doesn’t make sense and he can’t figure out why she would do it or why aunt Julie would help her and when his grandpa knocks on the door of his room later and asks to come in, his heart sinks into his stomach.

He knows what his grandfather wants to talk about as he sits down on the edge of his bed before he even says a word – and it just doesn’t make sense. It can’t be real. It just can’t be. There’s no such thing as werewolves, and the only witches he knows are edgy girls who like to collect crystals.

“Your mom says you had quite the talk earlier.” His grandpa starts with a small sigh. “How ya doing Pip?”

“You mean with the discovery that my family is either insane or they’re werewolves?” Steve sneers, not looking away from where his gaze is fixed on the ceiling. “I’m still wrestling with it.”

“Well, go easy on your mom while you wrestle. She’s had a rough couple of months. It ain’t easy breaking with a soulmate.”

“Soulmate? I thought you hated my dad.”

“Don’t matter what I think of him” grandpa grunts. “Wolves mate for life. We’re born for someone, and common thought was they were born for us. But well your mom… she loved that man with all she had, but there wasn’t much in him for loving.”

And that’s how Steve discovered that it’s real – the stories his mom used to tell him about soulmates, and how one day he’d grow up and he’d meet someone, and when he’d look at them, he’d just know he was made to love them.

“This is crazy. I don’t – I don’t want…” Steve bites back tears, unable to get the words out. He doesn’t think his grandpa is a liar, and the whole family can’t be crazy. But he doesn’t want this to be real. Not if it means he might be made to love someone who will never love him back. His dad didn’t get it, why Steve would choose to be broke and struggle with his mom instead of have his future pathed for him and live in comfort with his dad.

The thought that it might be his destiny to live like that, with his hand out always waiting on love that won’t come… Steve cries and his grandfather pats his shoulder awkwardly, but lovingly.

“I’m awful glad to have you Stevie and I wouldn’t change a thing, but I’ve always hoped maybe she was wrong. You don’t know a soul bond until you feel it and it’s easy for a young girl to lose her head. In any case, she’s the only one I’ve ever heard of with a one-way tie like that.”

“What does it feel like?” Steve finds himself asking, but the strange thing is how he knows the answer even before he finishes the question.

When you see them, it’s like everything slows down so you don’t miss them. Like something’s forcing you to pay attention. And once you do, it’s like everything else pales in comparison. You’re always thinking about them, always bumping into them and trying to be near them without thinking about it, because that’s where you’re happiest. Even if you don’t know it yet. Nobody can lift you up or put you down quicker than they can. They see more of you than anyone else, and you see them too. You can try and ignore the pull, but the tide will always bring you right back to them.

Steve listens to his grandpa wax on and on about what it was like when he first felt the connection with his grandmother and it should be just a sweet story to him. Something to give him hope for the future.

But what happened is his heart starts to beat and his palms start to sweat as Billy Hargrove’s face floats to the front of his mind where it absolutely doesn’t belong.

Unless…

But they can’t be. Can they?

Part 6>>>

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[originalfatfiction]

Belonging

His name was Amos Stanton, and we’d met online. He was twenty-nine years old, eight years my senior, and we had been corresponding with one another since I was nineteen. He’d wanted to meet up with me on multiple occasions, offering to arrange everything to make it happen, but in the end I always chickened out. In all honesty, I was surprised he put up with me and my apprehension considering he seemed well-off and very honest about his intentions. I always had the feeling that he thought I was a flake who couldn’t truly commit.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like him. I thought about him constantly, but I had my reasons for being so hesitant to meet him in person. We’d had hundreds of phone calls over the years, but only a handful of video chatting sessions. Aside from a couple of photographs, I hadn’t even really seen his body. I sent him loads of pictures, but he was a more reserved sort of guy. I only had a foggy idea of what to expect from an actual meet-up. I guess it was a fear of ruining something I’d been building up in my mind for years. What if he’d been dishonest? I wouldn’t be able to continue our relationship if he had lied to me.

I hadn’t gone off to college. I worked a low paying retail job in the mall and still lived at home. My parents were furious I didn’t accept the wrestling scholarship I had been offered from our state school. Both of my older brothers had gone off to college and sometimes I regretted not going as well, at least to get away from my parents. But I knew deep down I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. I was never much for education.

Amos had finally convinced me to come and live with him. We’d been talking about an argument I’d had with my parents. They kept telling me I was “wasting my life” and that I “couldn’t live with them forever.” I was barely twenty-one, the candles on my birthday cake still smoking. I sure as hell didn’t want to live with them much longer. Amos listened as I complained, letting me know I’d be okay, and things would get better with my parents. “I just don’t wanna be here,” I’d said, not truly expecting him to provide me with a solution.

“Then come live with me,” he’d replied. “I’ll take care of you.”

And that was that.

He owned a home in a larger city, and he told me I was more than welcome to stay for as long as I liked. I knew it was crazy and I knew things could turn out terribly, but I also knew—deep down—that this was what I needed in my life to be happy. I knew that Amos would give me what I’d always wanted for myself.

I wanted to be big.

Amos would talk to me about how strong he could make me, about how big I’d get, about how I was going to be his devoted ex-jock. I would get hard just thinking about it and masturbate for hours. I still lifted hard, even after being out of high school for three years, but I wasn’t getting any size. My body was that of a wrestler and I still found it hard to eat a lot of food. I was barely 160 pounds on my 5’8” frame. I had ended high school at 145 pounds, so I was making progress, but it wasn’t enough.

A few days after that conversation with Amos, I sat my parents down and told them about how I was going to live with a buddy from high school, that a job training program opened up near his home, and that I’d try to visit during the holidays. It was late April at this point. My father told me it was the right thing to do as a man and gave me a hundred dollars to get started in the world. I loved my parents but being at home wasn’t going to make me happy.

The next thing I knew I was on a bus, the ride only about two hours. I had arranged everything with Amos, and he told me he’d be there to greet me. I was nervous. I kind of wanted to turn around and go back home, but at this point I had to follow through. I wasn’t going to flake out this time. I had to think positively and believe everything was going to work out.

My bus pulled into the terminal, and after grabbing my two duffel bags, I made my way to the waiting area. I thought about if he didn’t show. I would look like a complete idiot with nowhere to go. I couldn’t survive alone in the city with only my measly savings account and the hundred bucks from my mom and dad.

I knew what he looked like from his pictures and our handful of video chats, but it was still hard trying to find him in the crowd of people. “Russell,” I heard a voice call. I scanned the crowd again. “Hey there.” There he stood, in the flesh. Amos. I was more than excited. I felt like a little kid with a schoolyard crush. I dropped my bags and went in to hug him. He was tall and thinly muscled. Now this was living. “Well fuck,” he said. “You’re cute.”

I laughed, my face hot with embarrassment. I had to remember he was an older guy and that I had to act more maturely. “It’s, uh, really nice to finally meet you,” I said, trying my best to contain my enthusiasm.

“Likewise,” he said with a grin. He motioned towards the exit. “My car’s this way. Let’s go.” I grabbed my bags and followed behind him like a lost puppy. 

He was maybe about 6’3” and took long strides. I walked quickly to keep up. He wore a pair of stylish charcoal slacks and a white dress shirt. His ass looked great, very firm and round. I watched it shift as I walked along behind him. He looked younger than he actually was, definitely not like he was almost thirty.

I liked that he was taller than I was. I was the tallest one in my entire family, so it was a well embraced change of pace. I was a black guy, with skin the color of milk chocolate. Amos was sort of pale, but still looked healthy. He didn’t have any facial hair, but I had a slight beard.

I could already tell we were going to make a great pair.

We made it to his home, and it was not what I had imagined. It was actually much larger than I had anticipated. We walked up a few stone steps to his front door and he let me inside. It was very modern and spacious. “Your house is amazing,” I said. He laughed.

“Yeah, I do pretty all right for myself.” He took my bags from me and directed me to follow him. We walked down a hallway, stopping outside of a closed door. He told me to go on in and I obeyed. I entered a bedroom that was small, but nicer than the room I had at home. “This is your personal room, so feel free to arrange things however you like.” I had thought I would be staying with him in his bedroom, but I guess we weren’t much of a couple. “How about I show you the rest of the house?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” I said.

After that, he gave me the grand tour. He showed me the kitchen and told me I could eat anything I wanted, whenever I wanted. He added that he didn’t think I’d ever be that in need of a snack. I got hard thinking about him filling me with food, making sure I was never hungry. I wanted it so badly, and I was finally going to get it.

He continued with the tour, taking me through the back door. There was a pool in his yard and a tall fence that obscured his property from the neighbors. “You’ve even got a pool,” I said, majorly impressed.

“Perfect for skinny dipping,” he said. I laughed, getting even more erect. His whole aura was like an aphrodisiac. We went back into the house, where he showed me the master bathroom, which was ridiculously grandiose. The tub was huge. There was even a separate shower that had room for at least three people. 

“Come on,” he said. “This is somewhere you’ll really love.” I followed him down some stairs to the basement, which had the laundry room, but also a home gym. He had a substantial amount of equipment.

“This is amazing,” I told him. I walked over to a rack of weights, taking in their quality. Everything was in pristine condition.

“Hope you’re ready to use those,” he said with a wink. Amos was everything I had imagined and more. I was excited to get big for him. I wanted to make him happy. Having gotten to know him online for nearly three years made me all the more ready to get to know him in person. I wanted to do whatever he asked of me, to submit to whatever he asked, and to grow. “Let’s get you something to eat,” he said. I followed him back upstairs to the kitchen and he pulled out a large salad from the refrigerator. He placed it in front of me, along with three types of salad dressing. “I didn't know what type you liked,” he said. “I’m going to heat up this tray of lasagna I made, so you just eat that while you wait, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, picking up the ranch dressing and a fork. He chuckled lightly. He busied himself reheating the lasagna and I greedily shoved the leafy greens into my mouth. He placed a basket of warm rolls next to me. He’d heated them up after getting the lasagna situated in the oven. I took one and bit into its soft, buttery goodness.

He poured me a glass of milk, which didn’t taste like 2%. It was kind of sweet. He sat across from me at the table. The lasagna had another fifteen minutes in the oven. “It’s really good so far,” I said through a mouthful of food. “I’m excited for the lasagna.”

“Well, you have to eat it all,” he said. “I’m looking to be impressed.” I swallowed more of the salad, feeling a little full already.

“All of it?” I inquired. He laughed. He was really attractive, and his laugh was no different. He was thin, but his body had an obvious muscularity. He had rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to reveal well-toned forearms. I was sure he used his home gym regularly. There was a treadmill down there and I didn’t think it was for me.

“I’m trying to be hospitable,” he said, smiling playfully. He was teasing me. “You wouldn’t want to offend me, would you?”

“N-no, of course not!”

“That’s what I thought.”

A little after that, he pulled the lasagna from the oven, allowing it to cool as I finished the salad, which had been in a large serving bowl. He cut a piece for himself and put it on a plate. He placed the rest of the dish in front of me. I wanted nothing more than to impress him, so I dove into the lasagna with gusto. I made it halfway through before I thought I was going to pass out.

He kept refilling my glass of milk, having finished his portion a while ago. He sat across from me at the table and watched me silently. “I-I don’t think I can finish it,” I said breathlessly.

“I think you can,” he said. “You don’t want to be rude, right?”

“Yeah, right. I-I guess—I’ll keep eating.” He had a quality that made me want to be better. I didn’t want to let him down. I made it through another ten forkfuls. He stood up and walked to my side of the table.

“You’re going to eat that,” he said, standing right behind me. I could feel his breath on my neck as he spoke. His voice was firm and authoritative, but also managed to be supportive. It was driving me wild and even though my stomach was in pain, I had an even more painful erection. “You know you want to get big. You’ve got to eat up if you want to get bigger.” 

He was right. I had to finish this. I leaned over the dish and began to shovel the rest of the pasta into my mouth, sauce covering my cheeks. This went on for a couple more minutes before I was finished.

Maybe it was the athlete in me, but I even took the last roll and cleaned the dish before downing the rest of my milk. I couldn’t believe I’d eaten like that. After all of that eating I was ready to sleep. He let me clean up and go to bed, and I was grateful for it.

The next morning, I made my way to the kitchen and found a dozen donuts waiting for me. There was an assortment of flavors, and I was enjoying being able to sample each one. I couldn’t believe I could eat again after last night, but I was actually hungry. I also helped myself to some more milk.

I found a note on the refrigerator that said the donuts were pre-breakfast. I wasn’t too sure what that meant, but I assumed Amos would have me eating something else soon. I was excited at the idea of eating so much. When I lived at home I tried to eat a lot, but I wasn’t able to eat as much as this—not nearly as much as this.

A little while later I heard someone enter through the front door. It was Amos and he had three bags of fast food. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said with a smile as he walked into the kitchen. “This is for you—ah, good, you got the donuts.”

“They were really good, thanks,” I said. He smiled at me, and I felt my stomach flutter. It was a mixture of attraction to him and anticipation of what else he’d expect me to fit in there. I couldn’t believe how ordinary my life had been up until this point.

“Before you get started on breakfast, there are some things I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yes, that’s fine, anything.”

“All right,” he said. He had me come into the living room and I sat on the sofa. “There are some things I need from you, things that’ll make me happy and hopefully you’ll like them too.”

“Okay,” I said. I was listening intently, but I was also thinking about what else he had gotten me for breakfast. I could smell the grease. I turned my attention back to Amos.

“When you’re in the house I want you to wear nothing but underwear, be it briefs or jockstraps. I want to be able to look at you.”

“I like the sound of that,” I said. He laughed. I really was okay with that. He was making me horny, and it was only because he was being so controlling. I knew that was something I was looking for, but damn, it was arousing in action.

“I need you to follow a workout schedule and I need you to eat everything I tell you too.” He paused for a moment, in what I was assuming was an attempt to choose the phrasing of his next statement. “You can only cum when I let you. No masturbating.” I nodded in agreement. That was going to be way more difficult than the underwear thing. “I also want to record your stats every month because, honestly, I think it’s really erotic.” I stood up and looked at him seriously. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and pulled off my pajama bottoms. I stood in a pair of white low-rise briefs. “Fuck kid, can you be any more adorable.”

After we discussed the guidelines he wanted me to follow, I ate my actual breakfast. I had six sausage biscuits and eight hash browns. I had a small plate full of ketchup next to me, which helped make things go down easier. I was dipping the hash browns and biscuits in a precise pattern, lubricating them with the sweet tomatoey goodness. I was eating so fast I didn’t notice I was getting full until I’d eaten around four of the sandwiches, but Amos made sure I finished them all. He also had me drink a fuck ton of his special milk as well.

“In the future, we’ll do this when your tank is empty,” Amos said, leading me back into the living room to take my stats. “I was just too excited to get you fed this morning.”

“I’m so full,” I said, rubbing the side of my bloated stomach.

He just smiled, knowing he was the reason I could barely catch my breath. He had me step on a scale, and I weighed in at 164 pounds. I stood in my underwear as he measured me, my stomach rounded out from all the food I had eaten. His touching me all over had my penis stiffening. “Somebody’s excited,” he said laughing.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I said with a toothy grin.

“Remember, we’ve got to hold off on that,” he reminded me, looking up from taking my measurements. “But don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.” He stood up and looked down at me. He observed me intently for a moment, his eyes a beautiful hazel color with intense flecks of green. His nose was thin, but large. It was complemented by his fleshy lips and strong jawline.

His hand found its way to my bulge. He grabbed onto it through my underwear. “Can I kiss you?” I asked. He smiled at me before leaning down to kiss me. I wanted to do so much more with him. I wanted to let him fill me up from behind just as much as he had been filling me up with food. I felt like I was ready to explode. He bit my lower lip softly and then slowly stopped kissing me.

“Well, let’s get you started with that workout.” He removed his hand from my crotch, and I heard myself whimper. I’d never made that sound before, but Amos had me whimpering. It excited me how badly I wanted him, how badly I wanted him to want me. I’d do whatever necessary to impress him, to make it impossible for him to resist the body he was going to build. I was going to be Amos’ monster. An absolute beast.

Fuck. My dick was already leaking as I made my way to my room to grab some socks and my gym shoes. We made our way to the basement, my dick still rock hard. He was also in his own workout gear. He explained to me that he’d be running and doing light weight training.

I was going to be doing more hardcore workouts and when things were too serious, he’d spot me. My boner lasted until about halfway through my workout, but once I really got into it, I barely remembered how horny I was. I had rarely ever pushed myself so hard. I couldn’t believe how sore I was after. It felt amazing and I was shocked that come lunch time I was famished. I felt ready to eat everything he had to throw at me.

Over those first two weeks I was falling hard for him. I was also incredibly excited for my upcoming monthly weigh-in. I had taken to getting up in the middle of the night to have a snack or two. I wanted him to be impressed with me, and I wanted results. I was finally realizing my dreams.

I could barely touch my penis without wanting to masturbate. I was very accustomed to freely jacking off whenever I felt the urge. When I was just messaging Amos online, I would find myself doing it two or three times a night. I found that while I was eating or lifting, the compulsion to masturbate was numbed. I wondered if Amos knew that’d happen.

My days consisted of pre-breakfast and then actual breakfast, a workout, lunch, another workout, dinner, and post-dinner. There were also my late-night snacks and whatever else I ate during the day. I was feeling so different and like a better version of myself. When my first weigh-in arrived, I was more than excited. I stood in a red jock that Amos had gotten me a little over a week ago. It cradled my junk in a way that made me more than aware that I hadn’t masturbated in a month.

He had me step onto the scale and I felt his eyes all over me. I knew Amos turned me on beyond belief, but it was nice in these moments to see that I made him just as horny. I wondered if he masturbated at all. “Shit, Russ, I thought you were looking big this month but not this big,” he said. “181 pounds.” I flexed my arms a little and he smiled.

“I did good, huh?” I asked, stepping off of the scale. He walked close to me and placed his warm hands on my waist. My stomach was no longer flat. I looked bloated at all times, but in actuality I was finally getting fatter. I felt stronger than ever, and the gainer shakes after my workouts were doing nothing but good things for my waistline.

“Your workouts are going well,” he said as his hands moved down my sides and towards my ass. “And I think I know where all that weight is going.” I felt my face heat up. “You must be doing extra squats to get this ass so big.” He grabbed my backside harder than I expected. I had been hard since I stepped on the scale, and I felt pre-cum spurt from the head of my dick.

He kissed me, and I felt my body relax in ecstasy. The smallest touches from Amos were enough to send me into a headspace that I had never experienced in my entire life. I longed to be close to him always. I still stayed in my own room, longing for the day he’d invite me into his own bed. Amos pulled away slowly. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded.

“You deserve something special,” he said. His face was as red as I’d ever seen it. Was he finally going to give me what I’d been dreaming of? I was still a virgin, only ever been fingered by some boy just as sexually immature as I was. We had both been on the wrestling team in high school. Last I heard, he was dating some girl he met at the community college in my parents' town. Amos walked towards the kitchen, and I took that as an indication to follow him. “Eat this.” He had brought out a beautiful pink box. It looked like it was from some super fancy bakery.

“I’ll eat it,” I said seriously. I opened the box and inside were six large cupcakes of varying flavors. He knew I loved a variety. I picked up one as we stood in the middle of the kitchen. I looked at him as I bit into the sweet treat.

“That’s chocolate vanilla swirl,” he said with a smirk. I laughed as I licked icing from my lips. It was a really delicious cupcake. He got on his knees as I was finishing the chocolate vanilla swirl cupcake.

“What—what’re you doing?” I asked.

“If you can talk right now, you should be eating,” he said. He pulled the jock to the ground and my dick bobbed freely for a moment. I started on the next cupcake. It had a lot of little red sprinkles. It was kind of spicy and very chocolaty. I shoved the rest of the treat into my open mouth, and he wrapped his lips around the head of my penis. I immediately felt pre-cum spurt into his mouth. I wasn’t going to last long. I started eating the rest of the cupcakes like a mad man. When I thought about the food, I wasn’t completely focused on the best blowjob of my existence. I didn’t want to cum too quickly.

Amos stopped sucking me off and began to lightly kiss my gut. I took another oversized bite of a cupcake, this one lemon flavored. I focused on the citrus, finishing it in another large bite. I felt so greedy eating like this and that was turning me on even more. I reached for the next one—red velvet. I looked down, and Amos looked up at me, his eyes unlike I’d seen them ever before. He loved this. He loved what he was doing to my body. He watched as I shoved a majority of the red velvet cupcake into my mouth. He moved his hand to my ass, squeezing one of my plump cheeks.

“Finish ‘em off, Russ,” Amos directed before bringing his mouth back towards my dick. He licked my shaft slowly, popping the head back in his mouth. I had to grab the next one, to prevent a premature eruption—s’mores. Graham cracker and marshmallow flooded my taste buds.

I hastily reached for the last cupcake. I bit into it, surprised by a substantial amount of banana pudding that was on the inside. This was a banana cream pie cupcake. I got some of the pudding on my fingers and I licked them quickly, swallowing the remaining morsels of the baked good. My moist hand found the side of my gut and I rubbed it gently. This was the biggest I’d ever been, but also the smallest I’d ever be again.

“I ate them all, sir,” I said breathlessly. He slowed, pulling his mouth away for a moment to take me in.

Without the eating to distract me, I felt it happening before I could angle my path of ejaculation away from him. I moaned loudly, my toes curling, as I shot my load in Amos’ direction. Some hit him on the chin and the rest covered the front of his lavender dress shirt. I felt it coming out of me for what felt like a whole minute. “I’m so sorry. It—it was an accident,” I said all flustered. He stood up and began to unbutton his shirt. He stood shirtless in front of me, and I was immediately turned on again. Amos had a well-defined body, which was long and slightly hairy. His hair looked well-groomed, and I wanted to touch his chest and the hair on his stomach. His stomach reminded me of my wrestling days, when I actually had abs.

“Somebody got a little excited.” He laughed softly, and I felt myself smile. He wasn’t mad at me.

I couldn’t believe it, but I was suddenly very, very hungry.

That weigh-in was in May and we were now halfway through the month of June. The weather had gotten really hot, but I spent most of my time in the house. I only ever went outside to swim around in the pool. We hadn’t gone out in public, but I wasn’t too concerned. I was focusing on eating and lifting. I was feeling really big, the largest I had ever been in my life. My capacity had increased, and I was going through gainer shakes like there was no tomorrow. I probably had at least four or five every day.

Amos had taken a lot of time off to stay with me that first month and a half, but now he was working a lot more. He was a realtor and sold luxury homes. He had things delivered for me to eat around lunch time. I had eaten a lot of pizza and pastas. He’d bring me desserts in the pink boxes every other evening. He was a really sweet guy.

“Russell,” he started. “I want you to go out more. You don’t have to stay in the house all day.” I had always assumed that was what I was supposed to do.

“Oh—that’s cool,” I said. “But what would I do?”

“Go out to eat,” he said with a smirk. “I actually ordered you some summer clothes.” I had no clue he had done that. “But you don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to.” Why would I not want to wear them? He went to retrieve them from his bedroom. There were a lot of shorts and tanks. There was also a pair of sweats that looked like they were made out of the material of a wrestling singlet. I was wearing a jockstrap, so I could easily put on an outfit.

I grabbed a pair of navy shorts and pulled them on. They were really tight. I would normally be much too bashful to wear something like this in public. My thighs looked huge in the shorts. I got them up over my ass, which was actually getting much bigger. Amos was right about me doing a lot of squats, but it was only because I knew he liked my butt. I could feel that the crack of my ass was not fully covered. I pulled on a tank top, which was white with thin blue horizontal stripes. For the first time in my life, I truly felt big. My bulge was a little obscene, but I was fully covered.

“Do you, uh like, this kind of outfit?” Amos asked, clearing his throat. “I could always get you something else—less revealing.”

“Do I look good in this?” I asked.

“Of course you do!” he exclaimed, his face reddening. I walked closer to him, feeling the most monstrous I’d ever felt, and wrapped my arms around him. He placed one of his hands on my head, the other on my ass. We stood that way for a long time. It was really nice, feeling his body against mine. “Let’s go out. Get your shoes on.”

I went to my room and put on socks and sneakers. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the door of my bedroom and stopped for a moment. I was becoming what I had always wanted. I flexed my arms for myself before my hands found their way to my gut. It was nice having so much size.

I turned to the side and saw how it stood out from my body. I was getting myself worked up. I lifted my tank up and saw how beefy my gut was. It made me want to eat. My pecs were large, but all the lifting I did couldn’t stop fat from accumulating there as well. My ass was always huge, and it had gotten a great deal beefier in the past two months. I finished up with my self-appraisal and went to meet Amos.

We drove in his car and ended up at a public park. I hadn’t been in a large crowd in some time, and it made me a little anxious. I suddenly didn’t feel that big, and I even felt naked in my outfit. I wanted really badly to grab his hand, but I fought the urge.

There were booths and food trucks lined up and down the sidewalk offering a variety of different foods. It was barely six o’clock. He patted me on the stomach and smiled. “I’ve got cash,” he said. “Let’s try lots of stuff.”

We walked from booth to booth getting different foods. He’d buy a large sample and nibble off of it before allowing me to demolish the rest. I was his human garbage disposal. We had Greek food and Mexican. I tried something called a pierogi and had a plateful of BBQ. There was a booth full of soul food that reminded me of home, and I had a great deal of that.

He was really fun to be around. He liked to people watch and would make really funny comments. There was this guy who was on roller blades in a Statue of Liberty costume that we watched for a while. “I bet he just has a blast,” Amos said with a chuckle. “Not a care in the world. Living for liberty and freedom, skating through the park annoying soccer moms and joggers alike.”

“He’s serving his country,” I added. “A true American hero.” He laughed for a while at that one, and it made me feel good. After that we went to get ice cream. I was already painfully full but pushing past that point made me feel good. On our way to the ice cream stall, I rubbed my belly mindlessly. A woman looked at me a little disgustedly and then away quickly. I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. “She must be so jealous of me. I’m with the hottest guy in the whole park.”

“Ha, yeah,” I replied, feeling a little weird.

“Let’s get that ice cream,” he said gently. He ordered me a huge cone and it was actually pretty tasty. His was different than mine and he offered to let me taste his as well. He held the ice cream up to my face and I took a lick. I could see he was turned on and so I ate a little more. I had already finished mine, being the fat boy that I was. Before he knew what was up, I had almost completely slurped down most of his dessert. “Do—do you want the rest?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said as I took the cone from him. I finished it quickly.

“Man,” he started. “I feel so indecent getting a boner in a public park.” Amos rarely talked like this, and it was getting me going. We walked slowly next to one another. He leaned closer into me before he spoke again. “And watching that huge bubble butt of yours shifting back and forth in those little shorts makes me want to lick you all over.”

I was getting an erection, and in these shorts that would be a problem. I tried hard to stay calm, but I was semi-erect. “Amos, don’t say that. I–I get too excited.”

“I know how you get,” he said. “You’re horny all the time and the fact you’re making so much progress turns you on even more, doesn’t it?” He grabbed a handful of my ass, and my penis was no longer just semi-erect. I wanted him to fuck me. “You’re becoming this big strong bull, but you know I’m still the one taking care of you.” I once again whimpered like a dog, a sound I found myself making much more frequently. I was feeling so submissive, and I wanted Amos to dominate me.

“Amos, I–I like that you take care of me.” He removed his hand from my butt.

“I do a good job, don’t I?” he asked. “And I always will, because you’re mine.” I nodded quickly. A man who had been walking near us cleared his throat theatrically. We ignored him and made our way back to Amos’ car. On the way home he bought me two double cheeseburgers, a large fry, and a milkshake.

I ate everything. 

Sometime in July I asked him what I could do that’d turn him on even more. He was pretty bashful about telling me at first, but I pulled it out of him. He was a fan of men that were intimidating but he could still be dominant over. So, I ended up getting some piercings and he wondered if I’d get my hair cut a certain way.

It all happened in one day, and at first, I was a little nervous. I got my nipples pierced first, and then my ears. I also got a mohawk fade. My beard had gotten much thicker as well. I was really digging the new me.

I’d be the first one to admit that I did look a great deal more intimidating. He couldn’t wait for the nipple piercings to heal. I had the feeling Amos was getting more and more amped up to actually fuck me.

By August I weighed over 200 pounds for the first time in my life. Amos was more than happy when the scale told him I was 219 pounds. I had taken to eating even more than ever before and Amos could barely believe it. I felt unstoppable. I was a beast. His beast.

“My family wants to meet you,” Amos said dryly one afternoon in mid-August. I never really considered the fact that Amos could even have a family. He seemed so independent that I imagined he was one day put on the earth as an adult. “They want me to host the Labor Day party this year, because of the pool.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that. I’d be too nervous.” I drank from a shake made from protein powder, ice cream, and whole milk. “What if they don’t like me?”

“You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I doubt they’d dislike you.”

“But—but, what about how—”

“How you look?” he asked. I nodded. “You look fucking spectacular. I’m not ashamed of you in any way. I actually want to show you off every chance I get, so everyone knows I’m with such a stud.”

“It’s your family, Amos. They’re more important than some strangers on the street.”

“Let me be perfectly clear,” he started, sounding even more serious than before. It’s like he had some sort of power in which he could make his voice soothing yet commanding. “I live my life for myself. You and me, we’re a package deal. They’ll treat you with respect or they can leave. Simple as that. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, the front of my jock bulging as my dick hardened. I was nervous and excited at the same time. Amos saw me as something other than some guy he was fooling around with. He respected me enough to introduce me to his family as his boyfriend. “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“Good boy,” he said, patting me on the tummy. “I guess we’ve got a party to plan.”

Leading up to Labor Day we found lots of fun things for the party. It wouldn’t be a lot of people, but Amos planned an incredibly large menu. He described all the things that would be prepared and how much he expected me to eat.

We went to shop for swimsuits, and even though I already had one or normally swam naked, he insisted I get another one. I ended up getting a lime green pair of classic cut trunks. I felt like they would be too revealing for a family function, but he told me they were perfectly fine.

My ass was large and firm, and even with the XL swimwear I was not fully covered. It was the curse of having such a large lower body. I felt like my bulge was a little much, but I did feel really attractive. My pecs rounded out into large mounds of muscle and fat. My gut was usually always full of food as I took my job as his greedy man-beast very seriously. That morning was the start of September and at my weigh-in I had made it to nearly 230 pounds. I hardly recognized myself anymore, but I wanted more. I wanted to be bigger, stronger, and fatter—to be the ideal man of Amos, as well as myself.

We bought my suit as well as a very nice pair of orange trunks for Amos that went halfway up his muscular thighs. We made our way home to have dinner, and with the events of the day I wanted to outgrow my new swimsuit.

The night before his family would be coming over, he presented to me a chain collar and a lock. “It’s waterproof,” he said with a shy smile and red cheeks. “If you’d be willing, I’d like for you to wear this.”

I took it from him and draped it around my neck. The chain was thick and slightly cold. It felt heavy, but I liked the weight of it. I clicked it in place and grabbed the lock for a moment. He was turning me into a total badass. “I feel extra cool,” I said.

“I have the key,” he said. He pulled a much thinner chain from under his dress shirt, and I saw that on the end of it was a small key to the lock around my neck. “You’re mine, you badass.” We smiled at one another and then I had two thick gainer shakes.

I had to look my best for the party.

The next day he woke up early to fire up the grill. He would be making chicken wings, brats, burgers, and ribs. I was busy in the kitchen slicing fruit and making other side dishes. He wanted me to make macaroni and cheese when I told him how much butter and cheese my mother’s recipe required. “Oh, you need some of that,” he said. “I should get you to eat some of that every week. Then you’d really get some meat on those bones.”

His family would arrive at about noon. I was nervous, sure, but also kind of excited. Amos was an incredible guy, so his family had to be a good one. I wore my lime green trunks and a yellow tank. I was very vibrant.

Everything was ready at around eleven-thirty. We busied ourselves setting things up and his family arrived right on time. That seemed like a quality all of the Stanton’s possessed. His parents, Freddie and Kathy, were very nice, and tall. His mom was a little taller than I was and Freddie had to be at least 6’4” because he was taller than Amos. Amos had two younger brothers as well. The middle brother looked just like Amos and had a wife of his own. His name was Harris, and the youngest brother was named Bud. He was only two years younger than I was.

“Amos, so good to see you,” said Julia, the wife of Harris. “And it’s nice to meet you too, Russell.” I was surprised she already knew my name. I returned the sentiment before Amos interjected.

“The food is ready so let’s eat while it’s hot.” We all shuffled out to the patio and sat. The conversation was good, but Bud didn’t talk much. He seemed distant, but I took it as how I had been when I was still at home.

I ate a brat in three bites and before I could finish chewing another found its way to my plate. I had mac and cheese piled high on my plate along with other sides. Everyone had finished eating yet I was going strong. The conversations continued and things were going great.

Sitting in the patio chair and shoveling food into my mouth I felt the tank straining against my gut. I could even feel my gut on my lap. I loved how I felt. I loved that I was the biggest guy at the party. When everyone else was preoccupied Amos gave me a pat on the stomach.

“I think they really like you,” he said quietly. His hand rubbed my belly slowly. “But I wish they’d fucking leave so I could feed my boyfriend in peace.” I was semi-erect and tried to reign it in.

I thought about how when I was eating, I wasn’t as horny. “I’m gonna get the ice cream sandwiches,” I said. “Maybe your family will want some.” I made my way into the kitchen when I noticed Bud and Kathy talking on the sofa. They hadn’t noticed me entering.

“Mom, he’s like some beast,” Bud said. “Like, he wears chains and stuff. Who does that?”

“He’s only two years older than you, Bud,” she replied. “He also seems really sweet.”

“He’s only twenty-one? How?” Bud questioned in awe. “He could probably break Amos in half if he wanted. I bet they’re into some freaky shit.”

“Oh, stop it, Bud. Don’t swear and don’t talk about your brother and his boyfriend having sex.” I was slightly taken aback. I hadn’t considered the idea that Bud was so quiet because he didn’t care for me. I cleared my throat loudly and offered them some ice cream sandwiches.

They both looked surprised to see me and Mrs. Stanton was noticeably embarrassed.

“No,” Bud said quickly, surprisingly more flustered than his mom. “That’s okay.” I began to retreat back to the patio before he stopped me.

“All right,” I said, box of ice cream sandwiches in hand.

“Actually, wait,” Bud called, standing.

“What’s up?” I asked. He’d made his way over to me and he stood looking down at me slightly. Amos really came from a family of giants. He studied me closely and—I might have been sorely mistaken—but I felt like he was looking at me like how I normally looked at Amos. He admired me in some regard, and it was actually really cool.

“I’ll take two of those if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, Bud,” I said. “You gotta eat big to get big.”

After that, Bud stuck to me like glue. He asked me about my diet and my workout regimen. I wasn’t as bold as Amos, so I gave him a heavily edited version of my routine. We all swam around and chatted. If I had to make a complaint, my swimsuit rode up a lot. Normally it wouldn’t have mattered, but I didn’t think the entire Stanton clan wanted a glimpse of my beefy glutes in too little swim trunks.

It was a good time, and I was glad Amos allowed me to become such an intimate part of his life. I had even more fun after they all left. Amos told me he didn’t want to see any leftovers.

There weren’t any.

My life with Amos only continued to improve as time went on. I hadn’t made it home for the holidays like I initially told my family I would. I missed Christmas, New Years, and Easter. If I were to be honest with myself, I didn’t really want to see my family. I didn’t know how they’d react to my lifestyle changes.

“We’re worried about you,” my mother said to me over the phone in late April. It had been about a year since I had come to live with Amos.

“We talk every month,” I said, knowing where this conversation was going. “I just haven’t found a good time to come see you guys.”

“Well, Bobby is graduating next month, and I expect you to come home to celebrate your brother earning his master’s.” Robert, who everyone called Bobby, was my middle brother. Terry was the oldest, and he had graduated from college five years ago. I loved my brothers, and I didn’t want Bobby to think I didn’t care about how hard he had been working.

“Mom, I—I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. I’ll check my schedule.” This whole situation was making me anxious.

“Is it money, Russell?” she asked. “It’s okay if you need to move back home. It’s okay.”

“No, mom—it’s got nothing to do with money.” I was over a hundred pounds bigger than when they last saw me. I didn’t want to hear what they had to say about my health or what I was doing to myself. 

“Maybe I need to send your father out there—” she started before I cut her off.

“Just text me the details. I’ll be there.”

“Everybody is going to be so excited,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “You must be starving out there working so hard. This is going to be the biggest celebration this family has seen in a while. I’ll make sure I’ve got all your favorite foods, baby. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay, Mom. Talk to you later,” I said. She told me she loved me, and I returned the sentiment before hanging up the phone. I placed my hand on my stomach, feeling its bulk. I felt massive and tiny at the same time. I wished Amos was here, but he was working. He wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours.

At my April weigh-in I was just over 300 pounds. After seeing that number on the scale both Amos and I sat astounded. I had nearly doubled my initial weight in a year. He sucked me off twice after that. We still hadn’t had anal sex yet, but I had the feeling it would be happening soon.

Amos was a very by the book kind of guy. He had brought me products to prep myself for anal, so things wouldn’t be a mess when we did actually have sex for the first time. I hoped I could satisfy him in that way. I wanted to be what he wanted. Especially after he invested so much into me.

I ate my lunch and did my workout. I had become so accustomed to my daily routine that I had a lot of free time. I’d go out and about occasionally, and I noticed people would watch me a little more than they used to. I wondered if my family would actually say anything, or just stare at me like the people on the street did.

Looking at myself in a mirror after my workout I took in my body as I did every day. My shoulders were broad, meeting in the middle at my thick neck. Amos said that my face had gotten fat. He said that my head and neck had become a singular entity, and that without my beard it would be hard to distinguish the two.

Amos said that the cheeks on my face rivaled the cheeks on my backside. “When you smile,” he had said. “You can barely see your eyes.” It was true. I had always gotten squinty when I smiled, but with the extra weight I carried it was even more extreme.

My body impressed Amos in a multitude of ways, and he had things to say about all of me. The way my tits sagged, though still firm with muscle. How my butt had ruined nearly every pair of pants he bought me. The immense size of my thighs and calves. He even had things to say about how thick my hands and feet had gotten. I was getting hard thinking about Amos, about how he’d grab me.

He got in around five, pink bakery box in tow. “Russ, I’m home,” he called as he entered the kitchen. I made my way to where he stood. I was in a purple jock, my body on full display for him.

“Welcome home,” I said, walking close to him, ready to receive affection. He wrapped me in his arms, and I felt everything I had been worried about fall to the wayside, if only for a moment.

“How’s my big guy today?” he asked, kissing the top of my head.

“Not good,” I said, dreading having to talk about my intended trip home. “I talked to my mom today. I have to go home for my brother’s graduation.”

“I know how nervous dealing with your family makes you,” he said, letting go of me and looking down at me. He smiled softly, trying his best to calm my nerves. “You had to see your family at some point. Don’t let it overwhelm you.”

“But—but what if they’re mad, or they want me to move back home?” I hated when I acted this way. I felt whiny, burdensome.

“You plan on leaving me?” he asked.

“No, sir,” I answered. “I never want to leave you.”

“Then they’ll just have to accept how much you’ve grown and the life you’ve set up for yourself.” I nodded. He was right. He always was. “Do you want me to go with you?”

I felt my face light up. I didn’t want to burden him with having to meet my family, not yet anyway. They’d be all over him, probably upset about my weight, not working, and being gay. “You would come with me, Amos?”

“Let me know the dates and I’ll take off from work.” I hugged him immediately, squeezing him much harder than I realized. He groaned loudly and I removed my arms from around him. He laughed, calming me even more. “You’ve got to be careful. You know you can break me in half.”

The next month Amos and I drove the two hours to my hometown. The entire ride he had me eating snacks. And I do mean the entire ride. Chips, trail mix, snack cakes, soda, sandwiches. When we pulled up outside of my parents’ place, I was next level bloated.

The first of the month was last week, and my weigh-in was somewhat disappointing. Maybe it was the stress of the visit, but I hadn’t been going as hard as I’d been the last couple of months. I couldn’t bring myself to eat my late-night snacks and I was barely getting through one gainer shake a day.

Amos didn’t say anything, but his lack of enthusiasm was like a dagger through the heart. I’d been working so hard, and I’d nearly doubled my starting weight in a year, but it didn’t feel like enough. I feared that if I continued to disappoint him, he’d look for someone who could better live up to his expectations.

“Do you want to grab the bags now or later?” Amos asked.

“We can come back for them later.” I wanted to make sure any potential escape was as swift as possible. There was no need to bring luggage into the house when we’d probably be leaving soon anyway.

We walked up the driveway to the front door, Amos behind me. My hands and feet were numb with cold, even though it was a sunny Friday afternoon in May. I was in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that probably shouldn’t have been so tight. You could see the outline of my belly button and my pierced nipples.

I stood frozen, staring at the doorbell. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t help feeling like some sort of freak, a disappointment. They wouldn’t accept me like this, and it felt ridiculous to welcome their disapproval. We shouldn’t have come all this way for something that could have been avoided. Maybe that was foolish of me, thinking I’d never have to see my family again, but it was better than this.

“Ring the bell,” Amos said softly. “Whatever happens, you know that you’ve got me. I promise.”

“Okay,” I replied, ringing the bell quickly before I chickened out. There was some slight shuffling, and then the door opened suddenly.

It was both of my parents, which wasn’t a normal occurrence. I think they both came to the door because they were expecting me. We hadn’t seen each other for over a year at this point. They were absolutely silent for much longer than could be considered normal.

“Uh, hey Mom. Hey Dad.”

My mother laughed awkwardly, turning towards my dad to exchange a glance before turning back to me. She looked behind me at Amos before she finally spoke.

“Well,” she said, laughing again. “Look at you.”

“Damn boy,” my dad added. “Your mom thought you were out there starving. You ain’t missed a meal since you left here.” Amos chuckled behind me. Of course he’d think that was funny. He was the reason I hadn’t missed any meals.

“Come in, boys,” my mom said. “Wait, where are your bags? Don’t tell me you aren’t staying.”

“They’re in the car,” I said, the warmth returning to my hands and feet. I was sure they’d have a lot of questions, and they’d probably talk about this for an hour as they laid next to each other before bed tonight, but they weren’t pushing me away. “I’ll grab them.”

I turned, so I could walk back down the driveway. “Damn, he got more ass than you,” my dad commented, patting my mom on the behind. Like my t-shirt, the sweats I wore outlined every curve of my body. The cheeks were slightly separated by the fabric, highlighting the heft of each. I looked up at Amos, who was smirking slightly. He really was enjoying my discomfort in this situation, the embarrassing comments from my father, the nervous glances from my mother. He was a bit of a sadist, and as weird as this whole situation was, I was kind of enjoying it too.

After bringing the bags into the foyer, it was obvious there were a bunch of other people in the house. I shouldn’t have been surprised. My mother loved celebrations, and this was my homecoming and my brother’s graduation. What better reasons to invite people over and throw a party?

Scattered throughout the living room were a bunch of my relatives. I saw my oldest brother Terry and his wife. She held their two-year old in her arms and was sporting a sizable baby bump. Bobby was wearing a sash that said “graduate” on it in gold lettering. His girlfriend was here too. I also noticed both sets of grandparents, some uncles, a few aunts, a plethora of cousins. They all looked at me like they’d spotted Bigfoot.

“Shit bro!” Bobby exclaimed. “You look like you ate your old self.” There was some laughter and nervous murmurs. I knew this was a make-or-break weekend. It was my reintroduction to my family, and I had to lay some things out on the table. In particular, I had to introduce Amos. I’m sure everyone was curious about the tall white guy who was towering over us all.

“It’s good to see everyone,” I started. “City life has been treating me well. This guy here is named Amos, and he and I are—we’re—uh, seeing each other.”

Nobody really said anything until my nephew, still in his mother’s arms, waved in our direction and said in his little voice, “Hi Amiss. I’m John.”

Amos returned the wave. “Nice to meet you, John.”

After that, some of my relatives came up to us and we talked for a few minutes. I excused the both of us and we made our way to my bedroom upstairs. We needed to set the bags down and have a moment to ourselves. I wondered what Amos would have to say about everything that happened.

I felt my body relax once the door was closed. After rummaging through his backpack, Amos just stood there, a satisfied smile on his face. He wore a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved collared shirt. He looked good even in casual clothing. His torso was long and lean, and the sleeves of the shirt hugged his arms seductively.

“Russ,” he said in a low voice. “This might not be appropriate timing, but I need to fuck you.”

“What?” He couldn’t be serious. Twenty of my family members were a floor below us, and this was the time he felt prepared to fuck me? He made his way closer to me, reaching out to squeeze one of my nipples through the fabric of my t-shirt. Ever since the piercings healed a few months ago, they’d become an extra-sensitive source of arousal. I was already getting hard, and he’d barely touched me. “Amos, we can’t,” I whined.

“You don’t want this?” he asked. 

“I mean—Amos,” I said, trying to make a sensible decision. But his free hand found its way to my crotch, rubbing my dick gently through the fabric as he continued to work my nipple with his other hand. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back a bit.

“They all couldn’t believe their eyes,” Amos whispered, his voice clear and dripping with lust. Him wanting me so badly was making me feel valuable again. I wanted this more than anything, to be what he wanted. “Your dad doesn’t mince words, does he? ‘Damn, boy. You’ve got more ass than your momma.’”

He turned me around and we stood looking at our reflection in the mirror above the dresser in my room. He didn’t need to say anything. He simply needed to explore my body with his hands to let me know what he was thinking. The way his hands sat under my chest, holding each fatty pec in his strong hands, squeezing them, jiggling them. My nipples were as hard as my dick at this point, and I had no intention of stopping Amos anymore. Not like I ever really would’ve in the first place. He had the control. He always had, even when I thought I was making a choice, Amos was pulling the strings.

His hands caressed my stomach, cupping the bottom of my gut and holding the weight of it up before letting it drop. It was solid from the two hours of snacking, but it was usually firm. He squeezed it again and again in different sections, inspecting every piece of fat he’d managed to pack on my body.

He moved one hand away from my belly, and I could hear the buckle of his belt being undone. Then I felt his hardness pressing into my back, warm and incredibly stiff. I saw him slip a condom and a tiny bottle of lube from the front pocket of his jeans. He set them on the dresser before shimmying out of his pants. I could hear the buckle of his belt hit the floor so I knew his pants must have been around his ankles. He positioned his fingers in the waistband of my sweats and tugged gently, still pressing against me. I watched him closely in the mirror as he worked, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. I had wanted this since the day we met, and it was really going to happen. He tried pulling the sweats down, but the fabric got stuck around my thighs. I wiggled a little, causing the sweatpants to drop lower and allowing me to spread my legs a little bit further apart.

He placed his hands on my hips and I leaned forward, resting my palms on the top of the dresser. He gave my ass a smack and I could feel the sting of his palm resonate throughout my entire body. “Oh god,” I breathed.

“To think you’ve gotten this big in a year,” he said. “It only makes me wonder how much bigger I can make you.”

“You want me to get bigger?” I asked, losing myself in the foreplay.

“I know you’re not that tall, but you could get to at least 400 pounds and get around fine.”

“425,” I countered.

“450.”

He reached for the bottle of lube and opened it effortlessly. He squeezed some of the liquid onto his fingers and his dick, coating his member completely before spreading my cheeks to have access to my asshole. Slowly, he touched me with one finger, sliding it in gently. He worked my hole with the one finger for a few moments before sliding in another. His breathing was deep and intense, his face serious.

“I’ve got to put it in, Russ,” he said, looking at my face in the mirror. “Is that okay?”

I just nodded. He held one cheek in his hand, his dick in the other. He guided himself inside of me, the tip entering me gently. He stayed that way for a moment, not moving a muscle. I knew it was so he wouldn’t hurt me, but I felt perfectly fine. I needed more. I needed all of him inside of me. I pushed my ass against his front, taking in a majority of his dick in the process.

“Aw, fuck,” he muttered as I pounded my ass against his thighs. He gave my ass a loud slap. I was salivating. I could feel the pools of spit in my mouth, and I swallowed so as not to make a mess. Every time Amos let me ejaculate this past year, some sort of dessert was involved. I couldn’t help but crave some sort of sweet treat. What I wouldn’t give for a donut or one of those banana cream pie cupcakes. I pulled forward and pushed back again and again, his dick hitting what I could only assume to be my prostate. I was in a simple black jock, my dick barely cradled in the front cup, leaking pre-cum profusely. “Whoa, Russ. You don’t have to rush.”

“It feels so good, Amos,” I moaned. “I love your dick.” He just smirked, allowing me to continue my back-and-forth motion. We were at it for nearly ten minutes when Amos came. My dick was dribbling so much, when I went to reposition it, cum shot all over the mirror and dresser.

“Damn Russ.”

“Amos, I’m hungry.”

We got cleaned up after that and headed back downstairs. I was utterly dickmatized. Whatever my family talked to me about went in one ear and out the other. I just wanted to eat and get fucked again, but one of those things was too risky to attempt a second time, so I simply stuffed my face. Bobby walked up to me as I licked some chicken grease off my fingers. He just shook his head, chuckling to himself.

“What?” I asked. I was closer to Bobby than my oldest brother, so I really was worried about what he had to say about this whole situation.

“You’re not really the little brother around here anymore, are you?”

“I guess not,” I answered, laughing aloud. Leave it to him to make a joke. I appreciated it.

“You and the white dude—Amos,” he clarified, to show respect, “are into some freaky shit. You know we could kind of hear y’all thumping around up there, right?”

“Aw, well, that’s my bad, not his.” I did kind of take over up there. Hopefully they just heard the thumping and not anything we were saying.

“And I’m not judging,” he added, throwing up his hands. “You seem happier like this. He’s got to have something to do with that, yeah?”

Looking over at Amos, who was talking to Terry and his wife, I couldn’t help but notice that he fit in perfectly, even in a house full of people who were very different than he was. He did take care of me and make me feel valued. Reflecting on how long it took for us to actually meet up, I could kick myself for thinking that Amos could be anything less than amazing. He was my home now, my family. In one incredible year, my life would forever be changed for the better. And hey, maybe Amos would really get me to 450 pounds (but seriously, that probably was less of sex-talk and more of a promise. Amos was always a man of his word).

“Yeah,” I said, “I feel like when I’m with him, it’s where I belong.”

The End!

[ash5monster01]

Truths of Our Past Series

Pairing: Older!Charlie Dalton x FemReader!Wife

Warnings: mentions of suicide, depression, depressing thoughts, past trauma, facing trauma, romance, understanding, fluff.

Summary: You had met Charlie in University, were married shortly after, and had become accustomed to a beautiful life together. When you receive a wedding invitation to one of Charlie’s previous classmates weddings you discover that Charlie had a dark past, one he had been trying to forget. In the midst of it all you try to help him through it while finding out that he’s not the guy you thought you married at all. Maybe he’s even better.

word count: 1.3k

Intro ←→ Part 1

Masterlist

You still remember the first time you had seen him. It was the beginning of Junior Year. Autumn of 1963. You had been riding the bus across Campus watching leaves fall from the trees. As most people your age conversed loudly over the latest parties and hardest assignments, five rows ahead of you sat a doe eyed boy wearing a beret and nose stuck in a book. Pride and Prejudice. You had never seen a male read Jane Austen before and at that seem to enjoy it. A smile crossed your face before your mind even caught up with your heart. Because somehow, just five rows ahead, was the man of your dreams. So you stood up on the moving bus, ignoring the complaints of elbows you bumped in the aisle, and sat next to him.

You smiled wide again as you thought of this. Watching that same boy sit across from you in the living room, readers rested low on his nose, and his eyes scanning the pages of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. You had now known the man across from you for six years, married for three. He still read like he did that day on the bus, transported to another world, not even a fire able to gain his attention. Love for him seeped out of you and you found yourself discarding your own book and standing to cross the living room. His eyes stayed trained on the page, unmoving until you were settled neatly in his lap.

“Well hello Mrs Dalton” his eyes finally met yours, an amused smirk painted across his features. He dropped the book once your arms curled around his neck, free hands now sneaking around your waist in return.

“Hi Mr Dalton” you smiled sweetly at him, nose nudging with his own as you removed the readers from his face.

“To what do I owe the pleasure in the presence of my beautiful wife” he asked calmly, lips pressing a soft kiss into your cheek. You smiled, snuggling closer.

“I missed you” you told him earnestly and he chuckled.

“I’m right here darling” he told you, not quite understanding what you had meant.

“Well your physical form is, yes. But your soul, that was somewhere in 1912 Brooklyn” you told him and he laughed, forehead pressing against your own.

“Williamsburg Brooklyn to be exact dear” he teased and you shoved his shoulder before curling back up into him, embracing the feeling of his warmth. His hand rose up your back, rubbing comfortably and now giving you his full attention. "What did you do today?"

"I wrote an article about the possibility of there being a draft, awfully depressing. Then I came home and talked to Chris on the phone before cooking dinner" Charlie smiled as you recounted your day, still writing for the NY Times under a pen name since you were a woman.

"How is Chris and Knoxie, and my favorite nephew Johnny?" Charlie asked, a fond smile on his face at the mention of his friends.

"Healthy, Knox got a promotion and Johnny got an A on his spelling test. Chris wants to enroll him in Welton but Knox isn't quite sure" you felt Charlie tense up at the mention of Welton, long and hard school days spent there now long behind him.

"If that old tool Nolan is still running the school I wouldn't want Johnathon there either" Charlie said, voice bitter in the warm air of the home. You sighed against him, wishing he talked about his time there more than he did.

"Chris said he retired three years ago, the only thing holding her back is not having Johnathon live with them, but he has such a bright future it might be a price worth paying" you explained but Charlie shook his head, eyes now dark and recalling a place in his heart he didn't quite like.

"I hope they think about it, Knox remembers what it was like" Charlie said and you felt guilty for bringing it up, you always felt guilty bringing up that place. Your life with him had always been in the heart of the big city and when the mentions of small town Vermont came up he was more tense, less him. You knew vague details, horror stories of lifeless teachers, and being expelled from school, losing a friend.

"You know Chris, she'd last a day before she brought him home and hugged him for a week straight. I never even figured the kid would go to Kindergarten considering she cried on the phone with me for an hour after leaving him there" you told him and finally Charlie was smiling again, laughing lightly at your accusation which was more than likely true. Chris was a helicopter parent, but Johnny was such a good kid.

"You’re probably right. She sure as hell loves that kid" Charlie said, bouncing his legs so you bounced in his lap. You giggled sweetly while looking up at him and he finally pressed his lips to yours.

"I'm going to get ready for bed, you coming?" you asked sweetly and he smiled before nodding and kissing you once more. His sweet and beautful flower.

"Right behind you, I'm just going to go through the mail on my desk and then I'll be there" he told you and you nodded while he helped you up from your spot on his lap. He watched as you disappeared down the hall into your shared bedroom. Once you were gone he pushed himself up to his feet and walked to his study. You had left the stack on mail in the center of his desk and he smiled as he sifted through the bills and letters from his mother in Paris. He only froze when he saw one with a Vermont return address.

Charlie felt his stomach drop over the thought of returning to Vermont. He had done it before, to see Knox and Chris. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be in attendance but every time it brought back memories he wished he could forget. Setting the invite down he realized there was a letter underneath the invite.

A week. A week in Vermont. Charlie hadn’t spent a whole week in Vermont since his Senior year of High School. Even as fear consumed him, heartache numbing his lungs, he pictured quiet and mousy Todd. The same Todd he watched grow from a shy boy to a successful man. The kind of guy you could never ever say no too. So Charlie sighed as he plopped into the chair of his desk and pulled out a piece of paper to respond.

And just like that Charlie agreed to visit the past but only because Todd Anderson asked him too. Dead Poets Honor. A promise Charlie would never break.

a/n: this is a possible series I was hoping to explore. If anyone would be interested please let me know and I would love to follow through the plot. Y/N will be used very little, it would be a short series that tugs on the heart strings. Any feedback would be appreciated greatly. please enjoy xx