#though i watched this movie probably no less than a hundred times so i probably should've realized it sooner

[be-more-chill-evan-hansen]

Tell me why it took me 5 years to figure out that Oscar was mocking Kid Blink in 92sies 😭😭

Now I need to know if this was scripted or if it was the actor's choice.

#newsies #92sies #kid blink #oscar delancey #granted i was out of the fandom for like 3 of the 5 years but point still stands lmao #though i watched this movie probably no less than a hundred times so i probably should've realized it sooner #pls tell me i'm not the only one that didn't notice it #ignore the quality idk how to make gifs #if i get flamed for this i'm deactivating it was a nice run lads /j

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #07

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

Exactly two days have passed since you and Jungkook had the whole conversation about how your plan is going to work out, settling a slightly relieved feeling in your chest. It went well, less embarrassing than you thought it'd be. But now you think about it, it wasn't embarrassing at all.

Having no actual schedule made things much more at ease and natural. Jungkook's messages popped on your screen every now and then, even during your work time which caused a muffled giggle to escape your mouth whenever he sent you one of his ridiculous memes. With no actual seeing him, it was the only sort of communication you both had.

That was until he asked about the movie night – something you used to do from time to time.

It brings a weird nostalgia, remembering all those nights you've spent watching horror movies that Jungkook insisted on watching so bad, leaving you screaming, jumping and gasping at every scene in fear. You knew some part of him did it on purpose, knowing you'd have all those reactions and he always had so much fun with that. Snickering and laughing his lungs out, even when you glared at him and smacked him, annoyed by all the teasing and mocking.

But this time, it's different. When Jungkook tells you he has a movie prepared, you thought it'd be just some stupid horror movie or something you've watched hundreds of times, but it's still fun to watch. Like Harry Potter or Fast and Furious movies. However, Jungkook's sly smirk appears on his face as soon as a naked woman appears on the screen.

It's an erotic movie, giving you Fifty Shades of Grey vibes, while Jungkook looks like he's enjoying it more than you do.

"It's a great way for you to find out what you might like." he explains after a couple of minutes, cutting off the loud moaning boosting from the speakers.

His neighbours probably think he's fucking someone here.

Apparently, it's none of his concern, when he's watching the movie with all his attention. A soft snort leaves your mouth, finding it amusing how quickly he shut up as soon as a naked woman appeared on the screen.

"Do you find her attractive?" you ask him after a while, cocking your head to the side as you observe the woman's body, before you pop some more popcorn into your mouth.

She's not ugly, but not overly pretty like they usually cast such a actress. This one looks casual, almost discreet but still holds some kind of confidence.

He mimics your previous action, munching on the salty popcorn as he studies the current scene.

"I mean... she's not ugly." he comments, although doesn't show any more effort to dive into it more.

"Her boobs are small." you say casually.

He looks at you, a grin plastered on his lips as if he finds your comment funny. "Are they?" he asks amusingly, giving you a glance before he looks back to the movie.

The conversation ends there, the confronting scene catching both of your attention as you find yourself to be invested in the actual plot. You're intrigued, because even though there are a fair amount of sex scenes, it doesn't seem to be all about sex which pleasantly surprises you. That's until the two main characters are back on screen, passionately kissing before he decides to punish her. Two minutes later, a spanking sound resounds in the living room as you watch with slightly widened eyes the scene unfolding in front of you. He slaps her naked ass, a camera catching his darkened eyes that are set on her.

It's no news that your sexual experience isn't as wide as you hope it would be. Else you wouldn't be in this kind of position – playing Jungkook's fake girlfriend in exchange for him fulfilling your secret and undiscovered desires.

Your ex never showed any interest in the whole BDSM thing and neither did you. Being called slut, bitch and having someone degrade you, has never occurred to you. It's not something you'd probably enjoy. Although, BDSM is much more than that, probably involving a lot more stuff that you can think about. But watching this movie, which revolves around it, you don't find it uncomfortable.

You're rather intrigued with the way he spanks her ass – her moans which are obviously fake and played, mixing with spanking sounds. It makes you wonder if you'd like to be spanked. The scene in front of you doesn't make you wet or horny, but the thought of someone doing that to you is still enough to spark an interest inside of you.

"What are you thinking?" Jungkook speaks up, his brows slightly pinched together just to show curiosity and confusion on his face.

You must've shown way more interest on your face than you thought, considering he noticed it. But then, Jungkook has always seen right through you.

"Nah, I was just wondering.." you trail off, focusing your eyes on the screen as you unconsciously bite onto your lower lip.

"About what?"

"I don't know. I've never been spanked before. I'm wondering if it's, y'know, my thing or something." you mutter, disappointed when the scene cuts to a different one, much less explicit.

It's quiet for a couple of seconds, your mind already set on the plot of the movie but Jungkook is the one who's staring ahead with a puzzled look. You don't notice it, not until he speaks up again.

"You wanna try it?"

Not expecting it, you almost choke on your spit, straightening yourself as you peer at him with widened eyes. Did you hear him right? Is he joking? But when you notice his neutral, or more like curious gaze, you know he's for real. A smirk curves on your lips, your body turning to Jungkook to take a better look at him.

"Are you offering to spank me, Kook?"

"I mean... yeah. I guess I am." he shrugs carelessly and you take that time to properly look at him.

He's wearing one of his usual comfy outfits consisting of loose sweatpants and black oversized shirt. You've seen him wearing it more times than his working attire, but he looks fucking good. There's no lie in that and you're sure Jeongguk is very well aware of his attractiveness.

"I'm in but what reason is there to spank me for? Me drinking your banana milk?" you snort, laughing at the way he looks offended for a second at the mention of his precious banana milk.

The tantrum he threw a few months back, the one you remember very clearly, because he made sure he gives you a proper punishment for drinking his stupid banana milk that he loves so much. It was funny, until he started to tickle you to the point there were tears running down your cheeks and you were very close to peeing yourself.

One thing Jungkook doesn't like is you laughing straight into his face, making fun of him. But you can't help it and continue to laugh at his sudden expression, jaw locked into its place as he stares at you with dark eyes. It all happens quickly, his hands on your hips pulling you closer to him in a flash. His hands are rough on your skin, leaving prints on it while he makes sure he holds you securely. He bends you over his knee, the cold air hitting the back of your exposed thighs as you grab onto the first thing your hands can reach – his ankle and the edge of the couch.

Unfortunately, you chose to wear one of your pajamas shorts that you forgot here months ago, wanting to wear something more comfortable. Plus, Jungkook's air conditioning is broken, so it's hotter inside than usual. It all makes it even more awkward in this situation. He has seen you in your towel before, but this time it's different. Almost all of your ass is exposed to his dark eyes and you're about to look at him, slowly lifting up yourself just to be pushed back. His knee digs into your lower stomach but you don't mind it that much.

"I'm sick of you making fun of me." he spits, palming your ass through the cotton material of your shorts that makes your breath hitch.

Fuck. Since when are his hands so comfortable?

You're not sure whether he talks about the mention of banana milk or that you've laughed into his face again – but you can't focus on that for too long, not when his hand feels so good against your ass.

Nobody has ever been so rough with you and he barely did anything. Still, it's enough to make your heart jump every time he swiftly moves his hand. Has he ever done this before?

"I'm sorry." you speak up, not recognizing your voice at all. It's so fragile, flattering into the space of your living room. It doesn't sound like you at all.

"Are you?" he dryly chuckles, scoffing right after as he squeezes your ass cheek.

God, it feels so good. He barely started and you already feel yourself getting wet. No, you're wet.

"Oh, bunny, you're about to be sorry."

This is not the Jeon Jungkook that you know. He's showing you a whole new side of him. His voice is dark, filled with dominance and lust, leaving you breathless.

A shiver runs down your spine, anticipating every move he makes with his big hand as he keeps palming the soft flesh of your ass. He plays with the hem of your shorts, before he asks you if he can take it down. Automatically a 'yes' jumps out of you, his amused chuckle following right after as you hide your flush cheeks. Thank God, he can't see you right now.

He doesn't take them entirely, enough to expose your perky ass cheeks to him. You hear him silently curse, admiring your untouched ass that's about to be spanked. He can perfectly picture his red hand prints all over it and it takes him a minute to shake out of his daze. Out of nowhere, he spanks your ass, not too hard though. You can barely register it, but it's enough to make your heart jump from the sudden contact. You understand that he only tested the waters, silently watching your reaction.

But when you shift yourself, pushing your ass up, it's all he needs. It's a silent plea for him to continue, so he doesn't waste any time asking you since you patiently wait for his next move.

"If you wanna stop, just tell me," he speaks up, his tone gentle all of a sudden causing the corner of your mouth to twitch in amusement.

Leaning up, you turn around your head just enough to look at him, tilting your brow. "Okay, bunny."

You just wanted to tease him, using his own choice of words or more accurately the pet name he gave you, but it turns out it wasn't a good idea. Before you can properly lean back, your back arches as soon as his hand is met with your ass cheek, slapping your flesh out of nowhere. The smack sound rings in your ears as you shut your eyes automatically, a surprise gasp leaving your mouth.

"I wish I could ruin you for that smart mouth of yours," he says through his gritted teeth, palming your ass before he smacks the other cheek with the same intensity.

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he got you wet. The wetness between your legs causes you to rub your thighs together. It could be mistaken as your reaction to cope with the new feeling, but it's a completely different story. You're rubbing your thighs together to release some of the build up lust in the pit of your stomach and between your legs. If he knows what you're doing, he doesn't voice it out.

"Ruin me, Kook." you whisper, so silent that you think he didn't hear you, but he did when his next words are like the next wave that's splashing you in the face.

"Oh, I will," It's not a comment, it's a promise. "I want you to count every spank I give you." he demands, his voice shifting to an even darker one and you wonder if he's just getting into some character or this is his persona in bed.

If he's usually like this in bed, you envy every girl that gets to fuck him and experience it.

"Okay." you speak up, knowing he's waiting for your answer.

He's not wasting a second, a palm meeting your clothed skin in a quick movement, not too harsh but enough to let you a surprised squeal. He palms your eyes right after, caressing the thin material as you hear your heart beating in your eardrums. You're surprised by the new feeling, complementing whether you like it or not. You need more to decide on that.

"Count, Y/N." Jungkook says through clenched teeth, reminding you of his rules that completely blew out of your mind.

"One." you cough, hiding your surprising soft voice.

It's clear, even to your inexperienced self, that he's going easy on you. His voice might be rough, showing his dominance over you, but his soft touch that makes sure to caress your attacked ass says otherwise.

"Good girl." he praises, causing a cheeky grin to appear on your lips in an instant, feeling some kind of pride over his praise.

But your grin is wiped off as soon as he slaps you again, this time focusing on the other ass cheek with more intensity, causing you to squirm in spot. This time, any sound that's about to come out of your mouth is muffled by your lips, teeth securely biting into your lower lip.

He repeats the caressing part, which helps the slight stinging feeling on your ass, although you know he's restraining himself. He makes sure he goes gradually and slowly, silently watching your reactions.

It makes you think he had probably done this before, the way he acts surely doesn't look like someone who doesn't know what he's doing. You kind of suspected that he's not boring and sex with him is a different kind of adventure, by the amount of girlfriends he had. But of course, that doesn't mean anything. Maybe his charms and attractiveness helped — but now you know that your suspicion was right.

Rather than to say it's weird, it's new for you to see this kind of side of him. Yes, Jungkook has always held some kind of dominance but he still remained this cute guy who'd pout and laugh in the cutest way. It's new, and you like it.

"Y/N..." he growls, reminding you of your task as you take your time to count for him.

"Two." you say much more stable, licking your lips in anticipation before another slap is delivered onto your lips.

Each slap gets more intense, stinging your skin even more to the point that you squirm on his lap. But every time, a number of the slap always resounds from you, not telling him to stop. It's not enough to get you off, but enough to make your panties stick to your heat, enjoying how wet you've become with each slap. You should be embarrassed when soft gasps of pleasure blend with the movie that is still on, but you could care less. Your mind is purely focused on Jungkook's hand, meeting your now exposed flesh, since he hiked up your shorts.

Skin on skin contact is even better, his soft skin and gentle circles that he massages to your skin leaves you breathless. You crave for him, the burn between your legs almost unbearable as you whimper, silently hoping Jungkook would touch you elsewhere.

"You like that, bunny, huh." he chuckles, his usual light and teasing tone gone and swapped with darkness and mocking.

Oh, you do. Much more than you've ever imagined.

"Answer me," he says, blowing another slap to your ass that makes you flinch in surprise. "You like me spanking your little ass?" he muses, a finger tracing a gentle line across his red handprint that you can't see but surely feel.

You shudder, gulping before you open your mouth. "Yes."

A low hum comes out of him, pinching your reddened skin that makes you whimper. It hurts, but when the pain slowly goes away you feel yourself clenching your thighs together, perking your ass for him.

"I told you to count," he reminds you, pinching your other cheek. "So needy." he comments under his breath, probably more to himself than to you, eyeing your perked ass.

"Nine." you count, your breath hitching in your throat.

"Last one, bunny. Get ready."

He barely finished saying it, his hand slapping over his handprint again. This one is the most intense one, causing you to loudly gasp before a shameless moan erupts in your throat. He massages your ass, blowing some air onto it that makes goosebumps appear on your skin. He gives you a few seconds, taking in your quickened breathing that gradually slows down before he slowly pulls you up.

Your cheeks are red, pupils blown out from what has just happened.

It was fucking good. So good that you wished he'd touch you again, taking care of that burn in the pit of your stomach and between your legs. You've never been turned on from this kind of thing and looking at Jungkook, just wants you to sit on his lap and repeat that time when you made cum each other.

But you stay put, taking in his dark eyes and a few strands of his raven hair covering them, before he moves them away. A slow, but clear smirk stretches onto his lips and you know your best friend is back. 

"You surely liked that." he teases you, wiggling his brows that make you roll your eyes at him.

"Pff, it wasn't that good. Don't flatter yourself." you scoff, knowing he has another thing added to his teasing list.

He's such a brat.

"Hmm, I think your soaked shorts says otherwise." he muses, eyes averting between your legs that makes you react right away, looking there for yourself.

A wet patch soaked through your panties and shorts is visible, your legs automatically closing but it's too late. He has seen it and pointed that out.

He's right. You surely liked that.

His smug smirk makes you annoyed, rolling your eyes at him once more as you quickly sit back, eyes averted to the screen.

What a brat.

#networkbangtan #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts au #bts angst #bts fluff #mutual help #personasintro

[inevesgf]

PERFECT PAIR ⠀,⠀ arthurtv.

synopsis ✩ what it’s like dating arthurtv!

warnings: mentions of sex, gender neutral!reader.

authors note: went on a little roadtrip this weekend so i spent my time writing some highly requested headcanons for arthur! i have a lot of inspiration to write so hopefully this week i can push out two posts instead of the usual one. xx

• clingy boyfriend energy, but at its finest. just loves to be around you — especially in your arms. hence this, his love language is physical touch with quality time sprinkled in there.

• he loves to watch movies with you. will show you his favorite movies and make you pay attention to every little detail and explain when you miss important things, but you love it anyways.

• loves to take you out on date nights! arthur is one for little adventures so he prefers to do an escape room, go on a hike, etc than stay in or have a fancy dinner.

• is actually the type of person to message you “are you busy this weekend?” and when you say no, he sends you screenshots of plane or train tickets to a weekend getaway as a surprise.

• all about living in the moment — i feel like arthur definitely would take candid photos of you which his camera roll is FULL of. he cherishes these memories more than anything.

• and of course, in return, you also take plenty of a photos of him. i’m sure both of you have folders in your camera roll only dedicated to photos of each other.

• shared playlist that you both cherish soo dearly. definitely filled with songs by the 1975, hozier and lorde — he probably stole most of your music taste from this playlist.

• because of your similar music taste, he also likes to book spontaneous concert tickets once an artist you like is performing near you. he will dance and sing with you in the crowd like you two are the only people on earth.

• he’ll play the playlist loudly in the car with you and you both will sing aloud to every song at the top of your lungs.

• will definitely drive to the beach or stop driving when it’s raining just to crank up the radio and dance in the sand or in the rain with you.

• loves to be near you in anyway. is addicted to you sitting on his lap, minding your own business, while he edits or works on things he needs to.

• big spoon though he doesn’t mind being the little spoon when he hasn’t had the best day. but prefers you to lay your head on his chest and play with your hair.

• loves to hug your from behind while you’re preparing food, etc. he shoves his head into the crook of your neck and sways back and forth as he leaves little kisses on the back of your neck.

• pda does happen between you two, but it’s never anything excessive. arthur will hold your hand while you two are walking and snake his arm around your shoulder or waist when you two are standing around.

• pda does increase when he is drunk though. i imagine you having to pick him up after doing platform roulette with arthur and george — he’s just so exhausted that all he wants to do is lay on you and sleep and pepper your face in hundreds of kisses.

• i have a feeling arthur definitely caught feelings first. maybe you two had mutual friends and you’d see each other at get togethers and parties — everyone would try and convince him to say something but all he could do was look at you in awe because he was so nervous.

• big friends to lovers vibes where he becomes less shy overtime and finally starts to flirt with you — to the best of his ability that is.

• “you’re cute.” “what?” “i said you uhhh look like a fruit.” “that doesn’t make any sense…?”

• eventually, with the help of some liquid courage, he’d confess to you without directly saying that he fancies you.

• “that sounds like you’re flirting with me, mr tv.” “i have been for MONTHS now.” “well you’re not that good at it — but it worked.”

• your first kiss was definitely you trying to make him shut up by interrupting him with one. he would be absolutely shocked, but kisses back because it’s something he’s been wanting for awhile.

• all your friends joke that you wear the pants in the relationship even though you feel like it is mutually shared.

• in the bedroom though, that is, arthur usually likes you to be the more dominant one which you happily oblige too.

• he likes you on top of him, letting your fingers tangle in the back of his hair and pulling on it slightly.

• he allows you to leave hickeys on his neck and collarbones of which he doesn’t cover up. he doesn’t show them off, but likes having them on him as a token of your love.

• talks to his friends about you, especially when he’s drunk and extra in awe of you. he talks about how happy you make him and your little adventures that you go on — it’s sure to make george and chris a little jealous that he is so lucky to have someone like you.

• black cat boyfriend all the way. introverted and intuitive, but lets loose around you and his close friends.

#arthurtv #arthurtv x reader #arthur frederick #george clarke #george clarke x reader #chaos crew #chrismd #sidemen #callux #ksi #miniminter #calfreezy #chrismd x reader #fanfic #sidemen fanfic #callux x reader #sdmn #youtube #fanfiction

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Take Care

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Everyone tries to warn Wanda what a bad idea it is to fall in love with the big, bad, scary spy.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language.

READ ON AO3 | MASTERLIST

When Wanda joined the Avengers she was sure she had just walked herself into some type of military team so strict and uptight that she was half expecting their fancy airplane to land in the middle of the desert surrounded by barbed wire and heavily armed men. They were, after all, the main ones responsible for keeping Earth safe from every type of villain that might come to them. Aliens, humans, and anything in between. Their team, formed by a literal God, a super soldier, a man who could turn himself into a green monster, a man whose big ego could barely fit inside his iron suit, and two humans - who, really, were probably better than all the other four combined - should live and breath for training, follow routines and focus on getting better and better every time.

Wanda realized pretty quickly that she had been wrong - very wrong - about her assumption.

Tony Stark was a kid stuck in a man’s body. He could barely keep a serious conversation with anyone and spent most of his time making jokes and provoking his colleagues. Bruce was one of the gentlest souls Wanda ever met - though, admittedly, she hadn’t met many of those during her lifetime - but he was a bit like an erudite and lived inside a lab. Thor assembled Wanda as that overly excited kid who got dropped at the amusement park with too much money. Steve was probably the only one among all of them who took this “hero” job as seriously as they should, though it was a bit wasted on him since he didn’t need to train to keep his shape and he was almost unmatchable. And Clint, well, Clint had so many dad jokes in his pockets that Wanda was as impressed by it as she was by his archery skills.

Less than a month of living with them and Wanda already realized that the men who were the most powerful and skilled people on Earth were just like every other man - but with powers and skills no one else had.

It did wonderful things for her because, for once, she didn’t walk into a military base camp like she thought she was going to when Steve and Clint convinced her to tag along after Sokovia, but also because the grief after losing Pietro was very consuming and it was good to have people around her who made her laugh or roll her eyes. It was good to feel things other than sorrow. She got closer to Steve more than anyone else since he was the calmest of them - centered and sweet - but, after a rough start when Wanda could barely get out of bed, she managed to form a bond with the entire team.

The point is that Wanda was aware that those people sometimes acted like the teenagers she often saw on the sitcoms she used to watch with her family. That, of course, did not prepare her to find out that, above all of that, their team also seemed to be keen on keeping updates to their comrades' private lives. In other words, they were gossipmongers.

“So…” The first one to bring it up had been Thor, surprisingly so because the God of Thunder was spending less and less time around nowadays. “I noticed you have a thing for the widow.”

Wanda was not at all surprised that the team picked up on the little signs that she might have taken a different liking to Natasha - of all people, really, and her heart had decided to beat a bit faster to the woman who could kill on two hundred and God knows how many different ways. There were spies on the team and most of them could, somehow, hear better than everyone else too. Also, they would never have gotten that far in battling the bad guys if they had been oblivious to things around them.

What did surprise her, however, was that someone decided to point it out. To her face. While they were trying to choose the movie for that night - Tony’s idea because he was insisting they should pretend to be some type of dysfunctional family who had movie nights or something like that.

With her eyes wide and heart beating fast inside her chest, Wanda glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone in the communal area where the largest TV known by man was. She could hear Tony and Clint bickering in the kitchen because they both had different ideas of what the night snack should be, and she knew Steve, Natasha and Sam must still be in the training room, so obviously Bruce was in his lab yet probably talking with Vision. Even so, Wanda didn’t look even a bit relaxed when she looked back at Thor.

“What?” She breathed out and then, because the nerves were eating her inside, she let out an awkward chuckle while shaking her head.

Wanda really thought the tall muscular man would let it go. He didn’t, of course. “No need to lie to me, shorty,” he said with a large smile that would’ve been charming if he wasn’t so damn daunting. Wanda also wanted to point out that everyone next to Thor would be short and that she was taller than most, but he didn’t give her a chance. “I can see the way you stare at her.”

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

Wanda opened her mouth to try and come up with something to say but there was nothing her brain could use to get out of that situation. She wasn’t surprised people noticed but she was surprised Thor noticed. Because, if he did, so did everyone else. And, God, it was terrifying to have people knowing the things she felt.

She had a very complicated life until that point - and it still was, honestly - and Wanda learned when she was still a kid inside an orphanage that anything people knew about you could be used to hurt you. When Hydra started to make experiments on her, it became even more evident. Wanda proved it herself when she invaded the minds of the same people she now shared a roof with and used their worst memories and fears against them. And, after going through training with Natasha, Clint and Steve, Wanda could immediately panic thinking someone knew her deepest secrets.

Thor must have seen the panic on her face because his teasing smile turned more soft and he actually lowered his voice a bit - not that it would make such a difference since his timbre was so deep. “Hey, I’m not going to judge. Humans have so many rules and what they think is moral or not is based on things I can’t understand.”

It took Wanda a few seconds to understand what he was talking about. Thor thought she was afraid he would have a problem with Wanda having feelings for a woman when, in reality, she was scared that he knew she had feelings at all. If she wasn’t so tense, Wanda would’ve laughed.

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about, though,” Thor kept talking and Wanda was amazed he had a plan on what he wanted to talk with her about. Thor was not the type of guy who planned those things. Still holding the remote in her hand, Wanda waited for him to continue. “Look, Natasha is… very brave.” He made it sound like that was the most important quality someone could have. “And scary.” Wanda raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I mean, she’s a good woman. Very beautiful too.”

Okay, he didn’t have a plan.

Wanda slowly nodded. “Sure,” she mumbled, unsure what else she could say.

“She’s also not the woman who do dating,” Thor finally declared, suddenly looking proud of himself. “If you want, I’m pretty sure she would be down to sex, but take care, okay?” Wanda felt her face heating up in a way it had never done before and her eyes glued to the TV in front of her with renewed interest. There was no way that conversation was real. “If you do the sex, don’t get attached,” he warned her gently. “You might end up getting hurt. So, maybe, the best idea is to not have sex. Unless you want to.”

Wanda thought she wanted to disappear, maybe be swallowed whole by a portal or something that would take her away. She had magic and she certainly could make it happen if she tried hard enough but Wanda felt so shell-shocked that she couldn’t move. “Thor…”

The God interrupted her, though, which was good because Wanda wasn’t sure what she could even say. “I just mean that having feelings for someone like Natasha can be very tricky. But, if you ever get your heart broken and need someone to talk to, just come to find me. Unless I’m in Asgard, of course.”

Thor then used one of his ridiculously big hands to pat her on the back, a friendly gesture, but Wanda almost got thrown out of the couch because of how strong the man was. Wanda grimaced and moved away a few inches so he couldn’t reach her again if he tried, and she was about to finally snap and tell him to mind his own business when Tony and Clint entered the space with several popcorn bowls.

“Where is everyone else?” Tony asked and, just like that, the conversation was over.

Wanda couldn’t say she had forgotten all about it after it happened because it was hard to forget that Thor, the God of Thunder, decided to give her love advice, but she was sure it would never happen again. Sadly, Wanda didn’t have superspeed like Pietro to run away if it ever did but she could think about a few other things to escape if she had to.

That said, she didn’t expect that conversation to happen with someone else instead on the very next day. And with Tony of all people.

He had called her inside his lab to help him make some tests on his suit - he was trying to make it strong enough to support Wanda’s magic - and then allowed Wanda to use one of the robotic arms to blow one of the training dummies. Wanda had laughed after that, feeling like a kid playing with things she wasn’t supposed to, before telling him she still preferred the red flow that came from her own hand and giving him the suit piece back.

“Yes, not all of us can shoot explosive balls from our palms,” Tony replied with a scoff while pulling away his things.

“No need to be so jealous,” Wanda taunted him. They walked a long way until Wanda felt comfortable enough around the man and it took a little more time to be able to joke around him, but Tony had a place inside her heart as well.

“Jealous, honey?” Tony teased her back, taking a look at her from over his glasses. “I invented a thing that is pretty much the same you can do.”

“Well, yes,” she conceded before turning one of her palms up and letting a small red ball form just above it. “But you have to carry that suit everywhere.”

Tony sighed and didn’t argue back, which made Wanda smile and put her hands back inside her back pockets. She was about to ask him if he needed help with anything else since she had planned on going out with Vision to show him the ducks by the lake when Tony started talking before her.

“So, you wanna do funny business at workspace, huh?” Wanda had no idea what he just said and just kept staring at him with a blank expression on her face. Upon hearing nothing from her, Tony looked up from where he was typing on the computer and rolled his eyes impatiently. “You know, knock boots.” Tony kept looking, Wanda kept staring, and it became clear she was still lost. He sighed and started waving a hand while he came up with other things to say. “Have some horizontal refreshment, get down and dirty, shake the sheets, practice the act of darkness, have some adult naptime, make an assault with a friendly weapon, do the Devil’s dance, feed the kitty, hit a home run, join amorous congress - Steve would like that one - go cave diving.” Wanda felt like the man had just thrown a bunch of words that had no meaning at her and expected the girl to form a sentence. Tony groaned and his head dropped for a moment before he looked up at her again and declared: “Sex, Maximoff. I’m talking about sex.”

Wanda’s eyes widened, her cheeks became as red as the magic that winded around her fingers, and she took a step back out of shock. Yes, that wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have with Tony Stark of all people. In fact, Wanda would rather stay still as he blasted her with his Iron Man suit instead of having that particular conversation.

Though, as usual, it could get much worse.

“Let me tell you this, you could have chosen someone better to want to do the fun thing,” Tony huffed and shook his head, although he looked quite impressed. “That’s some dangerous place you want to hide your hot dog at.” Wanda wondered if anyone had ever passed out for blushing too hard because she felt a second away from doing it. “Well, guess that’s not the best euphemism for you. Let me think for a second.”

“You don’t need to,” Wanda murmured mostly to herself since, obviously, Tony didn’t pay her any mind.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Tony called out and Wanda watched with her eyes still wide as the artificial intelligence came to life to wait for what its creator wanted. “Can you tell me some euphemisms for lesbian sex?”

“Of course, Mister Stark,” the robot replied and Wanda reacted before it could get completely out of hand.

“Okay, I’m out of here.” Wanda turned around to walk to the door, eager to escape and be anywhere other than there.

She still heard F.R.I.D.A.Y. declaring: “Play rock, paper, scissors with only the scissors.”

“Come down, kiddo,” Tony called out after her. “I’m just trying to help!” Wanda opened the door and took a step out, ready to flee - run if she had to. “Romanoff is a very dangerous place to try to get funny, especially if you are totally smitten by her.”

Wanda glared at him in surprise. She wondered if Thor said something or if Tony also couldn’t keep his own business - and she knew the answer to that. “Tony, please, don’t ever talk to me again,” she pleaded because, honestly, she would never recover from the conversation they just had.

Tony laughed, though, and gave her a playful wink. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that you’re head over heels for our most dangerous, and hot, spy.”

“Bye, Tony.”

“Just saying that, if you want to love her with all your heart and soul, you should know Natasha is all about afternoon delights and nothing else.”

Wanda could only pray no one heard the man’s raised voice while she walked away. Thankfully, Tony didn’t follow her but Wanda didn’t go find Vision right away. She needed a few minutes to get over the fact that another person from their team decided to step out of their way to give Wanda a warning about Natasha Romanoff. Gosh, that was a bit humiliating.

However, Tony hadn’t been the first and wouldn’t be the last either, something that made Wanda want to go back to the rubbles of Sokovia. It felt like a better alternative than having her feelings rubbed into her face like they were public domain.

It was definitely better than having that conversation with Bruce Banner for sure.

“I guess I should give you my condolences,” Bruce said out of nowhere about a week after her weird conversation with Tony.

Half of the team was away on some type of mission, to which Wanda and Bruce hadn’t been needed, and both of them had ended up inside the man’s lab while he worked on something while Wanda read a book. She could’ve gone to the back of the Avengers’ compound where she could sit under a tree and enjoy the breeze, but Bruce was interested in some of the Hydra’s experiments and she decided to tag along with him in case he had any questions she could answer. Bruce and her weren’t that close, though they didn’t have problems with each other.

Wanda looked up from her book with a frown. “For what?” She asked. Pietro had died a while ago and Bruce had said he was sorry about it as soon as they landed after it happened, even going as far as giving her a gentle hug and a sad smile.

Bruce’s dark eyes glanced at her in sympathy, though he didn’t stop mixing whatever he was mixing inside a vial. “For falling in love with Natasha Romanoff,” he explained and, above all, he actually sounded sorry for her. “We should start a club for unrequited love or something.”

Wanda’s eyebrows rose comically as her jaw dropped in surprise. She had seen inside both Natasha’s and Bruce’s heads and she knew that it had happened, however, they never spoke about it and, as far as Wanda knew, they both preferred to pretend it never happened. So, to have the man address the fact that he had feelings for Natasha at some point in time was a bit disturbing. Especially because, yes, Wanda knew about it too and, all people considered, she was the one who tried the hardest to pretend she didn’t.

It was none of her business, to start with, but to think about it made her stomach churn uncomfortably.

And now Bruce Banner wanted to talk with Wanda as if they had both been cursed by some terrible catastrophe.

Which, Wanda supposed, was understandable yet extremely unfair.

“Surprised I know?” Bruce asked with a hint of humor.

“I’m starting to think the entire world has been watching me,” Wanda groaned as she closed her book but her voice was too low for Bruce to hear it.

“I too once looked at Natasha as if we could have a future together, just like you do now,” Bruce kept talking and, despite the harsh words, he didn’t sound like a jerk while saying it. It was probably his gentle nature saving him. “And that’s the problem, you know? Natasha doesn’t think she deserves to have a future, so she won’t even try to build one,” Bruce sighed and looked back at the vial. “We have that in common. Neither of us thinks we can have what Tony found with Pepper, or build something like Clint has.”

Bruce was fine talking about Natasha but he wasn’t comfortable looking at Wanda while he spoke about himself. The girl felt some rush of anger inside her and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying all the things that ran inside her mind at that moment. She knew Bruce meant well in the end.

“Maybe you’re both too harsh on yourselves,” Wanda pointed out softly.

When Bruce looked at her, it was pretty clear he couldn’t disagree more with what she just said but, maybe to take the spotlight away from him, he nodded. “Perhaps,” he said with a shrug. “I just wanted to warn you. You’re still young and I’m sure one-sided love won’t take you down. Just take care of yourself, okay? Don’t dream too much, keep your feet on the ground.”

It was the most direct way of saying “don’t be in love with Natasha Romanoff” without actually saying it.

Wanda didn’t reply - mostly because that’s not how feelings work, after all - and Bruce dropped the subject right after that. Wanda waited a few more minutes out of respect before excusing herself from his lab, taking her book with her, and that had been it. She would do a lot of things to prevent herself from having that conversation with Bruce again because the last thing she wanted was to hear the man talk about a time when he and Natasha talked about running away together - even if it never happened or if neither of them actually meant it.

The rest of the team returned by the end of the night and Wanda found a seat as far away from Bruce as she could manage when Tony declared they should watch a movie together. Turns out that Wanda realized she would rather hear Tony Stark come up with a thousand different ways to address sex than talk about feelings with Bruce Banner. Who would’ve guessed?

After that, Wanda got a break from the entire “let’s talk about your feelings” thing. Wanda left to join a mission with Steve and Vision, then it was time for Steve to leave with Clint and Natasha for something else. It was some nice good two weeks of not having to talk about how bad she was at hiding her crushes but it didn’t last forever, obviously.

“Hey, Red,” Clint said as soon as he was done eating after returning from his mission. It all went well enough that no one had a bruise or a more serious wound but Clint still had enough adrenaline rushing through his veins that he assured everyone he didn’t want to take a rest like Natasha and Steve wanted to. “You and me, training room. You game?”

It was hard to understand Clint at first when she first met him. Wanda’s first language wasn’t English and it could be hard to keep up when he wasn’t saying all the words. She always thought he would get along with Pietro just fine because of that. As time went by, and the more Wanda had English and accent classes with Natasha, it became easier to follow along, though.

So, she simply nodded and followed him to the training room after changing into something more comfortable. Natasha and Steve had been the ones to give her hand-to-hand combat training when she first joined the team but Wanda now sparred with everyone else since she proved she wouldn’t get herself killed accidentally. Clint was already inside waiting for her and they soon got on the training mattress. Clint wasn’t as good as Natasha but he was still better than Wanda, even more so since she wasn’t allowed to use her powers inside the room, and she quickly started to get her ass kicked.

“You’re still not that good at the whole kicking butt thing,” Clint teased her as he reached out with a hand for her to take it.

She grabbed it and got up with a groan when her muscles protested. “I could throw you across the street with a flick of my finger,” Wanda argued.

Clint simply laughed. “Yeah, right. Come on, try again.”

By the seventh time Wanda landed on the matt, Clint was starting to get tired finally and didn’t try to get her to get up. Wanda lay there, sweaty and out of breath, arms open and staring at the ceiling while cursing herself for never being able to keep up with him. Clint was drinking some water, staring down at her with a smug grin, and Wanda was waiting for him to tease her about it too.

He went to another approach, though. “You know, I thought you would’ve learned more things about it since Natasha was the one teaching you. Thought you would want to impress her or something.”

Wanda groaned because, by now, she knew what was about to happen and she wasn’t thrilled by it. “Not you too,” she complained.

Clint’s smirk told her he had heard her but he didn’t ask any questions about it. “Lemme tell ya,” he paused and pointed at the girl laying on her back, “Natasha would not be impressed.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and grunted as she set down so she wouldn’t feel so damn vulnerable. “You shouldn’t gloat. It’s bad luck.”

The man laughed even harder at that. “Right. Keep that in mind if you ever manage to fulfill your wildest dream to get Natasha to pin you down in a more fun way.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Wanda replied and used one hand to prop herself up. She got to her feet and glared at him. “Do you still want to fight or can I go take a shower?”

“You wish you could share a shower with-”

“Bye, Clint,” Wanda interrupted him so abruptly that he just laughed while she walked away.

Wanda was out of the door before he could say anything else but she had just stepped into the hallway when she walked right against a wall. Well, not a wall, she noticed when she looked up after letting out a small squeak. Steve Rogers.

“Oh, hi, Steve,” she greeted him. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“No problem,” Steve assured her with his sweet smile. “I also wasn’t looking. Are you done training?”

“Yes. Clint is trying to be funny.” Wanda rolled her eyes and heard his deep chuckle. “I thought you were resting.”

“I was but I’m kind of hungry now. Do you want to join me in the kitchen?”

“Yes. You and cap should have a tea party,” Clint said as he walked out of the room as well, not even trying to not hit her with his shoulder.

Wanda frowned and glared at him but the man simply laughed and walked away. Seriously, it was like sharing a house with a bunch of kids.

“I do make some pretty good tea,” Steve commented while giving her a little smile.

And Wanda was hooked.

She went down to the kitchen area with him, happily listening to him tell her about the mission and how it went. Wanda sat on one of the high stools, putting both of her elbows on the kitchen island and her hands clasped together while she watched Steve move around at ease to put some water on the kettle. He then walked to the fridge to find some leftovers he could warm up and Wanda couldn’t help but smile at the scene. A super soldier making some tea and eating old spaghetti.

“How were things while we were gone?” Steve asked after leaning back against the counter so he could eat and look at her at the same time.

“Normal,” Wanda replied, even though nothing had been very normal since the entire team decided to watch her every move because they thought it was so fun to see her little crush on Natasha. “Tony tried to make another movie night and was mad when Bruce fell asleep in the middle of what he called the best movie ever made.”

“Yes, sounds normal.” Steve rolled his eyes although the smile on his lips was fond. “Did you train with someone?”

Wanda shook her head. Ever since her training got less rigid - it happened after Natasha declared she was better in her combat skills enough to hold her own against their usual share of villains and after Steve was confident she could run without having a heart attack - Wanda didn’t go to the training room every day anymore. She liked to run in the mornings because it felt nice to clear her mind for the usual two miles she took and she enjoyed sparring sometimes just to learn some new move she might have missed before, but that was it. She relied a lot on her magic and Wanda was truly fine with it even if she knew Natasha would rather otherwise.

Steve too, though luckily he didn’t give her another long speech about the importance of training. “Well, I’m back now. We could train tomorrow morning.”

Wanda grimaced despite her best tries not to. “Sure,” she replied however because, well, she was a part of the team and people had to trust her. The man seemed amused by that, at least. “Maybe we could do that pair thing again,” Wanda suggested mainly because it was more fun to be paired up with someone while both of you tried to take down the other duo.

“I doubt Clint will be up before noon,” Steve said and finally put the now empty container down on the counter. The water was warm enough by now and he moved to grab two cups from the top cabinet - where Wanda could reach but where Natasha couldn’t, much to her disdain. “You want some too, yes?”

Wanda nodded in agreement. “We could ask Nat and Tony to join us, maybe.” Tony hated those sparring things but Wanda still wanted to make him suffer after making her painfully listen to him talk about sex.

Steve put one of the mugs in front of her, placed his palm on the marble and took a sip of his drink while looking at Wanda with amusement in his eyes. He waited until she drank some of it, watched her small grimace, and then chuckled when he pushed the sugar toward her. Wanda grabbed a cube and dropped it on the hot liquid before taking a spoon to swirl it.

“I once knew someone who put four sugar cubes in her tea,” Steve told her, grabbing her attention again.

Wanda’s eyes moved up when she noticed how much his voice had changed when he said that. Steve’s tone was something between longing and heartache, and his face showed something similar by the way his smile lost all strength. Wanda knew who he was thinking about. She had been inside his head once, she saw the woman’s face, and she felt his sorrow for the life that could have been.

It still took her breath away sometimes because Steve had loved that woman so dearly and then someone decided to transform him into a deadly weapon for the military and he lost it.

Since she didn’t know what to say - and because there was nothing she could come up with that would be truly helpful - Wanda reached out and placed her hand on top of his on the counter, squeezing his fingers tightly. Steve seemed surprised by it but he quickly offered her a small smile and squeezed her hand back.

“Love is a funny thing,” he whispered after a few seconds where he was probably debating with himself if he should keep talking or not. “It can give you the drive to be better, to do better, to fight more, to keep going. But it can also take away all of that,” Steve sighed, looked into her eyes, and tilted his head a little. “It can be a blessing and it can be a curse.”

“I know that,” Wanda replied carefully. “I thought I would never be able to smile again when I lost Pietro.” And there were still days where it was hard, where it was impossible to smile or eat or get out of bed or be reminded that she was still alive and her twin brother wasn’t. But there were days when she would be hit by the sudden wish to live for both of them, to try every milkshake and go to every beach and watch every movie. “I know they’re different situations, but I understand.”

“I know you do,” Steve smiled sadly. “You went through a lot already. More than most people would even be able to take.”

Wanda said nothing because she learned very soon that life wasn’t a competition of who had a more traumatic past, especially when she was part of a team where no one had an easy path to where they currently were. No one there had an easy life.

“Like I said,” Steve kept talking after he realized Wanda wasn’t going to say anything, “love can heal and it can hurt.”

“Steve,” Wanda smiled at him, “if you have something to say, just say it.”

He had the decency to look embarrassed and he averted his eyes for a moment, cheeks flushed and lips curled at the corners. “That was it,” Steve said eventually with a shrug. “That was all I had to say. Love can heal and it can hurt,” he repeated while taking the mug to his mouth again. “We need to be careful about it.”

After saying that, he took a sip of his tea and Wanda copied his movement just to keep herself busy for a while longer. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“It’s not my business, I know,” Steve admitted. “I just worry.”

“That I will break down and screw the team over if Natasha wants nothing to do with me and tells me to shove my feelings somewhere else?” Wanda asked without beating around the bush like Steve was. It was better when people were more direct about it, she decided.

The old man, though, grimaced and pursed his lips. “You’re spending too much time with Tony.”

“You should hear some of the things he said,” Wanda huffed but didn’t explain what she meant.

“I just worry, that’s all,” Steve said. “You went through a lot and… and some people might not be able to know how to deal with it.”

Wanda put her cup down. “That’s what every girl wants to hear, I suppose.”

His eyes went wide open after that. “No, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean like-”

“That’s okay, Steve,” she stopped him and slid out of her seat to go wash the mug on the sink.

“Let me.” Steve approached her to stop Wanda from reaching for the soap. He offered her a smile when she glanced up at him.

She could’ve argued if he hadn’t decided to join the large list of people trying to get their noses on her business. Instead, she let him take the sponge and the mug, thanked him for the tea, and left the kitchen. As she walked to the elevator, Wanda couldn’t help but wonder just how easily people could read her. It appeared like everyone living under the same roof as her could read her like an open book. It was very unsettling, to say the least. She wasn’t a spy like Clint or Natasha but Wanda was sure she should be better at keeping things inside if she wanted to join their hero thing club.

Wanda asked the artificial intelligence to take her to her floor and, seconds before, she was walking down the hallway on the floor she shared with Natasha. It was an entire floor just for them since they were the only women on the team but they barely ever used the small kitchen or the living room area. Wanda remembered being new to the team and seeing Natasha walking that corridor all sweaty after a training session, how her mouth felt dry and how her heart beat fast. She wondered if any of the people who had spoken with her before knew about that.

Tony and Clint would never let her live it down, Bruce might try to form some type of connection with her, Thor would probably give her a high five or something, and Steve would blush for days. How any of those men managed to be superheroes was beyond her.

Wanda sighed as she pushed the door open and then closed it behind her after she walked inside the room. She kicked off her shoes out of habit while debating with herself if she should jump into the shower already or rest for a couple of minutes, though that became an easy decision when her eyes landed on the bed. Wanda fluffed her pillow before her hand found a shoulder to gently push against.

She heard an unhappy groan that made her smile before the body on the bed turned around so Wanda was staring at the muscular back. There was a bruise and a small cut there, probably a memoir from the last mission, and she made a mental note to rub some healing ointment later. With another sigh, Wanda slipped under the covers, wrapping her arms around a slim waist and pressing her body against another one in a big spoon position she knew so well. Her nose immediately found the back of a neck between red locks and she took a deep breath in even if she knew there wouldn’t be any perfume to smell - people remember smells, she had been told once, and the goal is to go unnoticed.

“Where were you?”

Wanda smiled at the husky tone caused by drowsiness. “Your friends were either trying to kick my ass or to give me a shovel talk in reverse.” Tony had taught her what ‘shovel talk’ meant when he was telling a story once and Wanda was proud to finally be able to use it in a conversation. There were many American slang she was still learning about.

“Do I want to know?”

“Maybe later, after you had enough rest. You just came back,” Wanda said and then pressed her lips between shoulder blades.

That made Natasha sigh and grab Wanda’s hand that was resting on her stomach. The redhead pulled her closer, impossibly closer. “I’m awake now. Tell me about it.”

Wanda hesitated for a moment because she really wanted the other woman to be able to rest after returning from a mission but she also knew Natasha wouldn’t drop the subject. “Well, it appears that the entire team seems to think I have a crush on you.”

Natasha’s body shook with a chuckle against her. “Where on Earth did they take that idea from?” She joked while pushing herself back against Wanda’s body.

“I guess I’m an open book or something. Everyone has accused me of being in love with you or wanting to sleep with you.”

“They must be insane,” Natasha replied with a smile clear in her voice.

“They think I’m the insane one,” Wanda huffed a laugh and was about to tell the woman to go to sleep again when Natasha started to move. She removed her arm from around the redhead and patiently waited until Natasha turned around to face her, putting a space between them to be able to talk.

“How come?” Natasha wondered. “Please, don’t tell me these people think I’m literally a black widow or something.” She rolled her eyes at that because she could see it happening way too easily.

Wanda laughed. “No, but they do think you’re going to let me down gently. Or not so gently, I suppose. Bruce is pretty sure you’re going to break my heart in a million pieces, Steve thinks I’m too fragile to handle you, and Tony thinks it’s very likely that you would use me for sex and throw me in the gutter.”

Green eyes closed, which made Wanda pout a little because she loved staring at them. “Are any of them wrong?”

There it was. The self-doubting thing returning full force. They had talked about it many times before and Wanda never liked hearing Natasha put herself short. Bruce had made her a bit nauseous but he hadn’t lied about what Natasha thought of herself and her future. Wanda had only a few months to try to make Natasha see that she was allowed to be happy, that she deserved to be happy, that she shouldn’t punish herself for her past, but it was months against a lifetime of beliefs. Wanda knew she still had a long way before her words started making sense to the other woman.

“All of them, actually,” Wanda pointed out. “They didn’t even think you would ever spare me a look.”

“They’re stupid then. You’re a very nice thing to look at,” Natasha teased with a smile and cracked one eye open, which made Wanda chuckle and lean closer to kiss her nose, before she closed it again.

“We agree your friends lack some sense.”

“They’re your friends. For me, they’re coworkers.”

Wanda scoffed loudly at that. “No one believes that. You have a soft spot for them.”

Natasha sighed. “Just because they can’t figure out how to keep themselves alive without me having to save their asses all the fucking time.”

“Well, whatever is the reason,” Wanda said even if she knew Nat wasn’t serious, “they certainly aren’t my friends. They keep telling me to stop looking at you like you hung the stars or something like that. It didn’t make sense when Tony said it.”

“Maybe they tell you that because they’re your friends and because they care,” the redhead commented and opened her eyes again. “They don’t want to see you hurt. They care about you.”

Wanda didn’t have anything to say about that. She was a part of the team for a while now but it felt different to know those people cared for her, that they liked her, that they wanted her around. It was a strange feeling the whole ‘being wanted’ thing. Pietro used to be the only one to make her feel like that and it was hard to feel anything remotely like that ever since he was gone.

“They act like a gossip magazine,” Wanda said instead.

“They do, don’t they?” Natasha chuckled and silence fell around them for a few moments. Wanda was starting to feel sleep wanting to creep in and she knew she had to get up to take a shower before allowing herself to sleep but she felt so comfortable that it was impossible to move. She was about to ask Natasha to roll over again so they could sleep when the woman started talking. “And they think I don’t deserve you. That’s why they keep warning you to stay away.”

“No one warned me to stay away,” Wanda corrected her gently.

“They did and you should.” Natasha bit her bottom lip, looking too much like she was trying not to get emotional at that moment. “I’m broken. All sharp ends and hard edges. You’re soft, you can bruise and bleed.”

“Natasha, with all due respect, I spent the last few weeks hearing our friends try to say how I should or should not feel, sticking their noses in my business and basically saying I was too naive to make my own decisions.” Wanda paused to look deep into Natasha’s eyes. “I won’t hear it from you too. Not after I set there in silence and listened to them talk because they have no idea that you would be laying here in bed waiting for me to join you after you returned from a trip. We agreed not to tell them a thing, I get it, but you can’t agree with them in something like this. Not when you’re living this with me.”

Natasha’s green eyes filled with tears that never fell before she tilted her chin up to kiss Wanda’s forehead. Her lips lingered against her skin for a few seconds until they formed words. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Wanda whispered back.

“And I’m sorry we hadn’t told them yet,” the redhead added.

They talked about it before - about safety, about how it was better if no one else knew, about how keeping them under wraps was better so no bad guy could use it against them - and Wanda now had more arguments to validate that decision. It would be great to see their reactions to find out how wrong they had been but it was also good to know they could keep living their lives without having them trying to get a say about everything. They all meant well, she knew that, though it was hard to remember that sometimes.

“It’s for the best,” Wanda declared with a shrug.

“Suppose it is. I mean, they all think I’m one step away from breaking your heart.”

“They only think that because I’m too soft,” Wanda told her when she noticed the slight pain in the woman’s voice again. “It’s me, not you.”

“You need to stop talking with Tony,” Natasha scoffed before she started to turn around again, apparently tired of the conversation.

“You just wait until I tell them that you bring me flowers sometimes,” Wanda teased her as she wrapped her arm around Natasha’s waist one more time.

“Don’t you dare,” the spy argued fervently. “I have a reputation to keep.”

“And you’re doing a great job at that because everyone thinks you would use a flower to poke my eye or something.” Wanda chuckled at the thought. “Oh, they will never believe it when I tell them about you taking care of me after a nightmare.”

“I’m warning you, Maximoff.”

“And that you rub my feet every time you kick my ass at training.”

“I’m starting to feel like kicking your ass right now,” Natasha groaned.

Wanda just smiled. “How violent. Maybe they’re right and I should take care.”

“Yes, I’m dangerous.”

As she said that, Natasha hugged Wanda’s arm between her breasts to kiss the back of her hand and Wanda thought how lucky she was to be sharing a bed with the big, bad, scary spy.

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wanda x natasha #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wandanat #marvel #avengers #scarlet witch #black widow #iron man #tony stark #bruce banner #the hulk #thor #steve rogers #captain america #clint barton #hawkeye #my writing #ao3 #creative writing

[originalfatfiction]

Mason's Gain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today I was going to make it.

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

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

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

It was Bret. Damn.

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

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

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

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

“This isn’t going to take long.” 

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

“I’ll handle him today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want a ride home?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Casa de Bailey.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Both,” he blurted out quickly. 

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

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

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

“Yeah, like what, Tuesdays and Thursdays?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was growing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was glad that he did.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is a small snack?” he asked.

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

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

“Yeah.” I sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How much did you weigh?” I asked.

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

“Well, um—that’s something.”

“How much?”

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

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

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

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

“Really, why?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tomorrow was going to be tough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop playing,” I said, laughing.

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

“I could do that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck Oli?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oliver,” he pushed.

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

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He moved closer to me.

I moved back slightly.

He moved closer to me again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I fell forward.

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

I hated Mason.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” I asked.

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

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

“Now what?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” he asked.

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

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

I was his boyfriend.

He was my boyfriend.

We were boyfriend and boyfriend.

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Probably because I’m gay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aw shit,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vanilla Fudge Banana Explosion,” he exclaimed gleefully.

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not weird.”

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

“This feels really good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whoa, Mason, what’re—?”

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

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

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

“You think so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom, it’s Mason,” I said.

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

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

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

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

“You know he can’t stay here Oliver.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Breakfast. Breakfast. Breakfast.

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t kidding. He really was.

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“I got excited,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious?” I asked.

He nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Christ!” he yelped. I stopped moving.

“Do you need me to stop?” I asked.

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

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

Actual sex was way better than masturbating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you not like me being skinny?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mase, you’re so goofy.”

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

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

“What’s up faggot?”

“I don’t care what you call me.” I stood, looking to find Mason so we could spend the rest of the lunch period in the library. We could study for English. Anything would be better than having to stay around Bret for an extended period of time. Bret placed his hand on my shoulder and forced me back into my seat.

“I don’t give a fuck what you care about.” I looked up at him from my seat. He narrowed his blue eyes at me, making him look like a rat. This guy really hated me. I stood up again and turned to walk away, kind of afraid of what he was going to do to me. “I hate what you are. You did something to Mason.”

“Like what?” I asked, turning to face him. Did he think I was blackmailing Mason? Threatening him with violence? Casting love spells?

“I don’t know.” He took a cupcake from a tray on a neighboring table. He looked down at it for a moment, likely pausing for dramatic effect, before he slammed it into my face. “But I don’t like it.”

I’d spent years dealing with this sort of treatment from Bret, but for some reason this was actually getting to me. We were in the middle of the cafeteria and nearly everyone was looking at us now. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to take Mason’s words to heart. But he hadn’t experienced just how awful I’d been treated. I warily scrapped some of the frosting from around my eyes.

“Oh shit,” one of the girls nearby mumbled to the friend she was sitting with.

I turned, watching as Mason made his way over to where Bret and I stood. I saw his eyes travel from my face to Bret’s. Mason calmly set his cookies on the table next to me and pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. The whole cafeteria was silent. It was like every sound had been magically muted.

“Mason,” I said nervously, trying to pull him away from Bret. “We need to go study for the Spanish quiz. We have to go now.” Bret was no match for Mason, and everyone else was still too afraid to even try and fight him. Mason was going to get in trouble. He used to get into fights all the time. He had never hit me, but I’d seen him pummel other assholes.

Mason yanked his arm from my grasp easily. Everything happened so fast, but I don’t think Bret landed a single blow on Mason. After about three minutes, I saw Bret was all purple and bloody.

“Fucking bitch!” Mason spat, his voice intense like the roar of a grizzly. The school security officers were coming. “You lay a hand on my boyfriend again and you’re dead.”

“Come on!” I pulled his sweatshirt and he finally stormed out.

“I should have killed him,” he said angrily, nostrils flared. He was breathing heavily.

“Okay, so yeah, Bret’s the worst,” I started, picking cupcake out of my eyebrows, “but I don’t think life in prison is going to solve anything. It’s not worth it.”

“I know, you’re right,” he said, his breathing slowing. “I just don’t want you to get hurt by him anymore.”

“By a cupcake?” I asked jokingly, trying to calm him down further.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

He leaned against a row of lockers. This wasn’t going to go unchecked by the school. They’d call his parents over this. He might even get suspended.

“I forgot my fucking cookies!” he exclaimed angrily.

“I could totally make you some!” This side of Mason was really hot, but I knew he wasn’t feeling great about the whole situation. As sexy as angry-Mason was, I still preferred when he was happy.

“Let’s go.”

“Huh?” I asked, trotting behind him. He was making his way towards the exit. We ditched Spanish and English. I had never ditched a class before, and I felt like a fugitive.

He pulled up outside of my house.

“I’ll be back,” he said. I nodded and got out of the Jeep. He drove off. I had never seen Mason so upset. I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with what Bret represented. Bret was a past that Mason wanted to forget. I knew Mason still struggled with guilt about how things had been between us the last three years, and I tried to assure him I had let that stuff go, but I knew he thought about it a lot. I didn’t know how to emphasize to him I wanted to just move on. High school would be over soon, and I would get to start the important years of my life. He had read an article about teen suicide in the LGBTQ+ community a few weeks ago. He looked sick after he finished it. I remember he looked at me seriously and said, “You could’ve killed yourself.”

Mason returned. He had gone to the gym. I looked at him and saw his huge arms and thighs looked pumped. He went to my bathroom and took a shower. I sat on the bed waiting. He exited the bathroom in a towel. His belly hung over the pink fabric. He dropped the towel revealing a beautiful ass. He looked so huge. Bret hadn’t stood a chance this afternoon.

I was always semi-erect around Mason but looking at him naked in front of me had me fully hard. He walked over to me and sat next to me on the bed. He leaned his body against mine. I could hear him breathing. I felt him press into me bit by bit. He was kind of whimpering, like a big Mastiff puppy.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver,” he said.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” I placed my hand on his monstrous thigh, squeezing it gently. “You stood up for me today, and I’m still hard thinking about how hot it was.” He grabbed me, pulling me close and passionately kissing me.

He ended up on his back in the bed and I ended up giving him head. It was the least I could do for how he stood up for me. And Mason couldn’t help himself, so I ended up getting head in return. But then I couldn’t help myself and found myself with his dick in my mouth again. It was a cycle that I didn’t really want to see broken.

That fight with Bret didn’t go unchecked by school administration. Mason’s parents had to come have a meeting with the principal and the dean. Both he and Bret were let off with warnings, but the school made it very clear that they could not protect Mason from the law next time, considering he was nineteen and Bret was only seventeen.

He moved back home after that, which was honestly kind of sad. We’d only gotten to live with one another for less than a month. He and his father did finally start talking again, but Mason told me it was strained conversation.

Nobody messed with us again until Valentine’s Day. In our school there was a fundraiser where a person could purchase a flower to send to a friend or crush or romantic partner. Of course, I had never gotten one, but Mason used to get tons of them every year. I went to buy one and I wrote a card for it. I wrote: Mason, I love you. Yours forever, Oliver.

I thought it looked sophisticated and mature. I paid the two dollars, took the carbon copy receipt, and went to class. I wondered if he even thought about those stupid flowers. Then I wondered if he got me one. I was getting all excited thinking about it, but I knew to keep my expectations in check.

I met him before first period. We were working when the flowers were delivered. I didn’t expect one this period. They measured out the number of flowers a person was to receive and equally distributed them throughout the day. If a person were to receive only one rose, they’d get it during their last period of the day. But I got one anyway, in first period, which meant I had more coming. There was no name. It was a card with one word: Faggot.

Mason looked at me to see who it was from, but I quickly put it in my pocket. “I hope you’re not cheating on me,” he joked, smiling at me.

“Of course not!”

“Well, why can’t I see the card?”

“It’s mine,” I said. This was likely Bret fucking with me again. I could not let Mason know about this. He might actually kill Bret this time, and I didn’t very much think orange was Mason’s color. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” he replied sternly, his eyebrows furrowed. He was mad. Throughout the day I got the flowers with the same card. With each one, Mason got more and more unnerved. I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me. At lunch he didn’t say a word. He ate a lot extra so he wouldn’t have to talk to me. I didn’t want him to see them. We couldn’t afford another incident like when he beat Bret to a pulp over a cupcake. He’d go berserk if he knew what was happening.

We walked to Spanish in silence. I got another card, and it said the same thing, but with a name—Bret. Surprise, surprise. I knew it was him. Nobody else would go so far to harass someone. Mason gave me a look of death and I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach. I just wanted to go home. English came and I got my first nice flower all day. It said: I think you’re the best boyfriend in the world. Love, Mason.

I put that one in a separate pocket. Mason had gotten his first flower, which I was assuming was the one I purchased for him. He scanned it over and over. I hoped he liked it. Maybe it would make up for not showing him the Bret cards. I looked up at him and smiled. He stood up and stormed out; I followed. I heard Bret laughing as I entered the hallway.

“Mason! Wait up, what’s wrong? Mason!” He turned to face me. I saw he was trying to think about what to do. He pushed me into a locker, and it felt like he was getting ready to punch me.

“You—,” he started. He pulled out the card and read. “‘It’s over, Mason. I’ve gotten you back for three years of absolute torment. Did you really think I’d ever want to be with you, especially now? You’re a joke.’” Mason hadn’t stopped growing since moving back home. He was up another ten pounds, putting him at 303 pounds. I loved every ounce of him. I would never send that. I hoped he’d be smart enough to realize that.

“Please don’t hit me,” I exclaimed, flinching. He didn’t. Thank Jesus; he could have given me internal bleeding or something.

“I’d never put my hands on you,” he said angrily. Now he was mad and offended.

“I would never send that,” I said, pulling out the carbon copy receipt. “Look.” I handed him the card and he read it, looking relieved.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. He was getting worked up. I had a bad feeling. “I knew you didn’t send this, and it still got me emotional. I’m so sorry for pushing you. I’d never hit you. I swear I wouldn’t. But those cards you’ve been getting all day have really fucked with my head.” I reached into my pocket and handed him the cards. I hadn’t wanted him to see them, but at this point I had to be honest.

“These are the cards I’ve been getting all day, okay?” He read them and really went insane, heading for the exit.

“Mason, we’re going home, yeah?”

“Hell no. We are waiting for Bret and this is going to end today. Oliver, I’m going to kill him. I swear to God, I might just kill him.”

“You’ll get in trouble,” I said immediately. “No way.”

“Not if it’s after school.” That was ridiculous. He’d so still get in trouble. We passed through the doors leading outside as the afternoon announcements came on.

“You can’t do this Mason,” I said, trying my best to calm him down. “You’ve got to let this go.” The bell finally rang and two minutes later kids surged out of the building. He ran right at Bret who had been describing what he had done to two of his own beta-males. Bret was knocked to the ground.

Bret looked up at Mason from the ground. Mason was in a t-shirt alone. We hadn’t stopped at our lockers. The sleeves in the underarm area ripped with the advanced movement of his huge arms. Mason leaned over and punched him, harder and harder.

He stood straight up, hovering over Bret who was still laying on the pavement. “You ever fuck with us again, you’ll get your ass kicked worse than this.” There was a group around us, which formed a circle. Mason then spoke to them, turning every so often. It was almost like we were in the Colosseum, Mason a gladiator orating to the spectators.

“I like men,” Mason began. “But don’t let that confuse you. I can still fuck up anybody who steps to me or my boyfriend.” People were hanging on his every word. It was amazing.

“And this bitch over here,” Mason continued, gesturing towards Bret, “Has the weirdest fucking obsession with us. He went out of his way to send my boyfriend flowers all day today. I guess you could say he has a little crush.” This had people laughing now. “Babe, you should thank him for the flowers, but do let him down easy.”

“Uh, thanks for the flowers,” I said, uneasy having been put on the spot, but excited to be standing up to Bret in front of everyone for the first time. “But I’ve already got a boyfriend, so maybe you could find someone else.” The circle erupted in a resounding ‘Ohhhh!’ and lots of laughter.

“So who started this?” Mason asked the bloodthirsty spectators.

“Bret!” the crowd shouted. “Bret! Bret! Bret!” Mason started to walk off and I followed close behind him. The crowd parted so we could pass. I had never wanted to fuck him more than now. We could still hear people chanting and laughing as we made it to his Jeep.

Once inside, he drove towards my house, eyes focused intently on the road. His stomach growled loudly. There was a slight pause after the growling ceased, and then we both laughed loudly.

“Now I’m starving,” he said. I knew exactly what I wanted to make him.

As soon as we made it to my house, I started cooking. Mason went off to take a shower, saying something about needing to cool off. The whole situation with Bret still had him slightly heated. I was definitely still wound up from that encounter too, but not in the same way as Mason. Just thinking about how he’d stood up for the both of us had me soaking through my briefs. I’d been hard for some time now, ever since Mason’s whole ‘Are you not entertained?’ bit.

I cooked and cooked and cooked until I ended up making much more food than I thought we needed. It was just the two of us, but I’d made enough for five. I just couldn’t control myself when cooking for Mason. I loved seeing how much he could put away, how pleased his face would be when he ate an excessive amount of food.

I made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special. It was a dumb concept that I came up with back in middle school during the early days of my culinary exploration. The main component was a mozzarella-stuffed chicken breast that I would deep fry. I served it with macaroni and cheese. And, even though I knew it was overkill, broccoli covered in a cheese sauce (I’d even made a dozen rolls, and no, they weren’t cheese stuffed). It was a lactose-intolerant person’s worst nightmare, but Mason had never had any problems with dairy. He probably couldn’t go on living without it. I made five of those chicken breasts, a huge serving dish worth of broccoli, and enough mac and cheese for a family of four.

About an hour later he came lumbering down the stairs. I’d just finished plating the food, with parsley and everything. He sat at the table, shirtless, and I took in his quarter-sized nipples. His pecs were still firm but had a nice layer of fat over them. My mouth didn’t water when I thought about dinner, but Mason’s tits had me almost drooling all over myself. I never would have thought he would be this big. I set his plate and silverware in front of him, and then the basket of rolls.

“I made too much,” I said.

“I don’t think so,” he said, smiling up at me from his seat at the table, “especially since you made the Oli Cheesy Chicken Special.” I felt my face go hot. It meant a lot to me that Mason remembered the name of this meal, but I needed to come up with a new one. Something that wasn’t so embarrassing. I wasn’t twelve anymore.

“I’ll get you something to drink,” I said, walking towards the fridge and pouring him a glass of milk.

“Thanks.” He didn’t waste time getting started. He didn’t even use silverware to eat the chicken breast, simply picking it up and taking a large bite, pulling the meat away from his mouth causing an impressive cheese pull.

In this moment, watching him happily eat, I realized that Mason hadn’t really changed all that much since we were younger. Yeah, he was over a hundred pounds bigger and six inches taller, but he was still the same silly, considerate, sometimes hot-headed guy I’d always had a crush on.

I must’ve been staring, because he looked up from his plate, catching my gaze. He stopped racing through the food on his plate, eating more slowly.

“What’re you staring at?” he asked, chewing, stabbing a broccoli floret with his fork. “You haven’t even started eating yet.”

“I just really love you,” I said honestly. “I can’t help staring.”

“C’mon Oli,” he said, his face reddening, “You’re just trying to embarrass me.”

“I’m not!”

“Well, I love you too,” he said, his face still flushed. “I’m really lucky, you know? Who’d ever think a guy like you would be interested in me.”

Whoa—Mason was always surprising me. My initial assessment wasn’t completely fair to him. Mason had changed. In a way that was really significant.

He’d become more courageous.

He was brave enough to come out, to date me, to change his body in a way that wasn’t considered conventionally attractive. Even if all the things I loved about him from our youth were the same, I was fortunate enough to be able to love the man he was becoming as well.

I stood, going to refill his plate. He ate this serving just like the first, like if he didn’t get it all down fast enough someone might come and take it away. I sat down and watched, picking at the portion I’d set aside for myself. I wasn’t even hungry. I had no idea how he ate so much. He’d eat a roll every so often. I was able to refill his plate once more, and he ate that with the same amount of gusto. He got up the excess cheese that remained on the plate with the last roll.

“Fuck, that was just as good as I remembered.” He leaned back, placing his hands on his belly, rubbing it gently.

“Can—uh, can I do that?” I asked. He grinned.

“You don’t gotta ask,” he said, turning in the chair away from the table. He spread his legs, waiting for me. I went to the other side of the table as he pushed away from it. I knelt on the ground and rubbed his bloated gut, my hands traveling to his sides so I could squeeze the love handles pushed up by his underwear.

I moved toward his broad chest, squeezing the flesh there as well. Fuck, there was just so much of him. He was only wearing underwear, so I saw he was getting hard. I leaned forward, and began to kiss his belly, licking around his navel. His stomach tensed and relaxed.

“You like this gut?” he asked, his eyes closed.

“I love this gut,” I replied. His dick jumped in his underwear.

He stood, pushing me back slightly. I looked up from beneath his belly, and it made me think about that day at the bike racks a few months ago. I’d thought of him as a giant then, but compared to what I was looking at now, that version of Mason was minuscule.

Mason removed his dick from his boxers, and I leaned forward, resting my mouth at the base of his penis above his balls. I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of his skin after a shower. I licked his shaft slowly, raising a hand to feel the heft of his belly above me. It didn’t need my support, as it was a solid sphere that hadn’t gotten large enough yet to droop. I thought about that phrasing and it sent me to another level of arousal. Large enough yet. Mason would likely be bigger than this soon. 300 pounds was the point where most guys would fight to get their waistlines in check, but I knew Mason didn’t care about that. He’d want more, and I wanted to help him.

I heard him moaning above me, one of his hands grabbing my hair, the other on the side of his gut. “Fuck, Oli,” he grunted. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

I stopped and stood up.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.

He agreed to head up to my room, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing me ravenously first. He loved kissing, and I definitely wasn’t against it, but we hadn’t moved yet. Mason was still kissing me. On my neck. My forehead. My cheeks. He reached for his penis, but I stopped him.

“Upstairs,” I reiterated.

He nodded. His eyes had that glazed over look again. He followed me to the staircase, and as I ascended, I heard the stairs creaking loudly as he heavily padded up after me.

I wanted to fuck him with all I had. Each time I wanted more and more to have the best sex ever, and each time it was the best sex ever. I didn’t know if it was because we were getting better at it or the fact that our relationship was becoming so much more serious, but whatever it was, I hoped it continued.

He pulled off his boxers and leaned over my desk, his beefy forearms resting on top. His strong legs were spread apart, and his knees were slightly bent. In this position, his stomach seemed more noticeable. It hung down, round and bloated. I wanted to cradle it in my hands from behind.

I slid on a condom and carried the lube over to where he was waiting for me. I covered my dick in the slick substance before gently massaging his hole. “I’m ready,” he breathed. “I want it, Oliver.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed onto one of his love handles as I led my member inside of him. This ass was everything. I’m pretty sure he worked it out extra hard because he knew I loved it so much. Seeing my hands cradling his meaty cheeks was unreal. I didn’t have abnormally large hands, but he had such a massive ass, they looked almost feminine. I pushed my entire dick inside of him, thrusting back and forth more forcefully than I had before. He moaned and moaned—saying my name, telling me how good it felt. I felt the tingle I came to expect wash over me. I wasn’t sure if it was endorphins or what, but I was close to finishing and feeling amazing.

He took a sharp intake of breath, shooting cum across the front drawers of my desk. I pushed hard a few more times. I’d never felt so good before. I came loads, my legs turning to jelly for a few moments, almost causing me to lose my balance. “Aw, fuck,” I managed to get out, grabbing his hips gently.

We moved over to the bed and laid back. His belly moved up and down.

“That gets better and better,” he panted.

“I was thinking the same thing.” He rolled over on top of me. I loved that, the weight of his fat body pressing into me. It was incredible. He just laid there, kissing my face and neck until I had to tap out. He rolled back over, smiling.

The next thing I remember was waking up. We’d fallen asleep. It was now around eight. I tried to shake him awake.

“Mason,” I said. “Mason wake up.”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled almost inaudibly.

“Mason,” I laughed, “You can’t stay here. Your parents will wonder where you are.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” he said into a pillow. “Let them wonder.”

“But our homework,” I said half-heartedly, also not in the mood to complete any schoolwork or send him on his way. I got up and checked my assignment book. Nothing was due tomorrow. I locked my door and got back in bed. He turned so I could place my head on his chest. He had his arm wrapped around me. I could have stayed like that forever.

Mason dozed back off almost immediately, but I laid awake thinking.

We only had a couple of months left in senior year. I’d gotten into my first-choice university and all of my safety schools, but there was definitely something that had me reconsidering going away to a four-year university. I didn’t really have any idea of what I wanted to major in. Nothing in the traditional sense was appealing to me. I didn’t want to be a teacher or a lawyer or a nurse.

Being with Mason reignited a passion that had laid dormant for years. I loved being in the kitchen and perfecting different recipes. Attending culinary school might be what I want to do post-graduation. It might have been youthful optimism, but I could see myself one day owning a restaurant.

Mason was going to the college thirty minutes from where we lived. I knew there was a program near him that was accredited and offered lots of opportunities for growth. I could feel myself getting excited by this idea. I hadn’t even been this excited opening up my college acceptance letters. This passion had to mean something. It just had to.

I could do it. I would do it! I’d always longed for a life outside of high school, and now I was starting to see that life more clearly. Even if the future was a mixed bag of possibilities, I knew one thing for certain.

I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Mason.

The End!

#gainer stories #gainer fiction #gainer story #fatfiction #gainerfic #gainerstory #gay feeder #gay feedee #weight gain

[the-girl-in-the-high-castle]

The absurdity and stupidity of all shitflix cancelations lies in one simple question: How many of those canceled shows have you actually heard of before they got canceled?

- Warrior Nun - never heard of it until the moment I started seeing its fans spamming every shitflix post. And that was its second season. It had two seasons, for fucks sake, and most of us have never heard of it. You wanna know whose fault that is? Let me give you a hint. No, it's not the viewing numbers.

- First Kill (or whatever its name is) - Never heard of it until, once again, I saw people complaining about the cancelation under shitflix posts. Once again, guess whose fault that is.

- Santa Clarita Diet - Never heard of it. Didn't even know it was canceled until it made it to the list of pissed of people counting how many of them they axed. Whose fault is that?

- Inside Job - Yeah, never heard of it until it got canceled. Also, canceled after they renewed it. Shitflix: guess we changed our minds.

- Archive 81 - Heard of it when the cancelation was announced.

- The OA - Remember just hearing about it through the fog, even though it came out years ago.

- Sense 8 - know about it only thanks to fans' videos and fanart. I don't remember shitflix ever mentioning it.

- Lockwood & Co - I know about it thanks to fans spamming posts asking for renewal news.

And the list goes on with, I assume, shows I have never heard of.

I've never seen any of these shows, but my open wound is 1899 that I believe got treated the dirtiest of them all.

I have heard of it two years before the premiere, thanks to a 50 seconds long teaser that got me patiently waiting for years because it was my cup of tea. It came from the people who proved themselves before by creating a critically acclaimed show that you can find on a top 10 list of greatest shows of all time. Those people have spent years developing a new filming technique for shitflix. What a way to say thank you.

8 out of 10 people around me have seen 1899. Those people haven't even seen GoT or LotR for fucks sake, the most famous show and movie ever, but they have seen 1899. But not because shitflix promoted it, but because people did.

There was zero promotion, zero cast interviews, zero mentions after the release. It was still watched and talked about by so many people. It has more viewing hours than their hit shows running for 3+ seasons put together. It's a show you can't just binge and forget, you have to actually turn your fucking brain on. It was released in the most busy time of the year, during the damn World Cup and winter holidays. It was still number one for weeks. It was given less than 30 days. They decided to cancel it before it even premiered. They deleted the trailer with 10+ million views from YT.

The same goes with other shows. I have seen zero cast interviews, zero promotion or mentions by their own platform and they still have loyal fan bases that didn't stop talking about them.

But then you have dogshit shows like the Night agent that is getting hyped by shtflix every single fucking day. Fake numbers, pumped up to get people to watch a generic, a hundred times seen before, piece of crap. It got more hype than fucking GoT, and yet I know zero people who have actually watched it. Yep, there is no one I know, in real life or online, that has actually watched this show. So you figure it out.

People who have watched the shows I've mentioned probably have the statistics for them, and have probably seen the viewing hours being blamed for it, which was bullshit.

The latest nail in the coffin was Lockwood & Co. They kept fans waiting for months, and then they announced the cancelation during Eurovision so that fans wouldn't be able to go viral about it because everyone talked about fucking Eurovision.

Shitflix has canceled 26 sci-fi/fantasy shows in the last 3 years. 26! Do you all remember when we couldn't even name 26 shows of all genres put together, let alone watch them?

What all these shows had in common is that they were original and more or less unique and creative, not something you can find at least 6 copies of in either streaming or network TV.

It's like they created all these shows just so they can cancel them, because they are doing their best to actually burn every trace they ever existed.

Shitflix is killing creativity in every form, but in the end, that will be their undoing.

#shitflix #1899 #1899 netflix #warrior nun #first kill #santa clarita diet #inside job #the oa #sense 8 #archive 81 #lockwood and co #fuck you netflix #i hope the writers strike will be their death

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

A demon's victims

Summary: You're a demon in the year 2023 and all you want is some fun and a new girl, well exactly what your looking for walks into a cafe you were occupying, maybe your hundreds of years of being around was finally about to pay off, especially when Wanda's ex interrupts you

Also demons are known in this universe but they're not just walking around, so it's still a little unusual seeing them around

Relationships: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff (platonic/best friends), Wanda Maximoff/Demon!Reader, Natasha Romanoff/Demon!Maria Hill

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Demon!Reader, Demon!Maria Hill, Natasha Romanoff, Loki

Warnings: Minors DNI! Blood, swearing, talking about Smut (no actual smut, not yet ;)) Let me know if I've missed anything

Words: 3,900

A/N: There will be a part two but I don't know when it'll come out, probably soon though

“She’s so pretty” you looked across the room at the lovely brunette that just walked in, looking around nervously but when her eyes finally settled on who she was looking for her body relaxed and she smiled making her way over to her friend

Loki scoffed as he watched you basically drool over a stranger “don’t you have any dignity?”

“Says the riddler knock off to the spawn of satan” you spared a glance to the man giving him a wink and looking back at the woman now sat with her friend laughing about something

“So what’s your plan? Stare at her like you’re in a romance movie until she falls in love with how possessive and crazy you are?”

“Hey! I’m not crazy” you said taking the brownie from the man’s plate and eating it

“But you are possessive?”

You laughed “damn right I am, what’s mine is mine and no one can take those things from me” your head perked back up after hearing her laugh again “and I can’t wait to have her all to myself”

************************************************

“Nat stop you’re too funny!”

“I'm not lying though Wanda! He's so robotic, did it feel like doing it with a toaster?"

Wanda shoved Nat playfully getting her out of the solum mood she was in "seriously Wanda I am sorry about the whole thing, but maybe its for the best, let's go out tonight!"

"Oh I don't think-

Nat carried on "shh its gonna be great there's a club near here, and we'll definitely be there"

Wanda sighed but agreed none the less "okay sure, yeah it'll be fun"

You smiled overhearing the whole conversation and turning to Loki

"Time to get your dancing shoes on"

He groaned "why do I have to go with you?"

"My wingman"

"You have your own wings Y/n I don't need to hold them"

You really didn't think you'd have to explain a simple sentence to a man younger than you

"Loki I'm thousands of years older than you why do you act older than me?"

"Just to piss you off"

The music was way too loud for you and you absolutely hated it but anything for a pretty woman

"Fix your face Y/n" Loki pushed a drink into your hand bringing you out of your thoughts "I will when she walks in, we've been here 2 hours and she hasn't come yet"

"Don't be so sad my little demon, look who just walked in" Loki gestured to the door and you quickly spun to look and see Wanda and her friend walk in "oh wow, she looks incredible"

Loki scoffed "she's in jeans and a t-shirt"

"You're wearing khakis you dork" you spat back but the man just laughed "yes but I'm not trying to manipulate a woman"

You rolled your eyes " not manipulation, more like coercion using my incredible flirting skills"

"Well go on then, go and get your little victim"

You straightened yourself up downing the rest of your drink and kissing Loki on the cheek to which he pushed you away quickly "you know I hate when you touch me!"

"I love you too my green obsessed little weirdo"

*******************************************************

"So you're completely sure you're not looking for anything?"

Nat had been looking between Wanda and a figure in the corner when she asked and Wanda looked at her oddly "why do you ask? And who are you looking at?" Wanda spun around searching for the figure and her eyes landed on you

You blew her a kiss in response and a wink making the woman blush and Nat giggle, turning around she slapped Nat on the arm "hey! That hurt" Nat joked "She's been staring at you ever since we came in"

Wanda smiled "do you think she likes me?"

Nat rolled her eyes "Wanda I mean this in the best possible way, it doesn't matter if she likes you likes you, she probably just wants to fuck you and that's fine! Go have fun"

"Nat! Why do have to be so crass?" She turned around again taking a glance at you, when you waved back she turned back and took a deep breath "okay I think I'm gonna go over" she didn't move and that made Nat laugh

"Wands you actually need get up and do something"

She shook her head "I can't"

***********************************************************************

"Bless her, she's nervous, good that'll make her blood taste better"

"I don't know what you're narrating but it's weird" Loki slid up to you pulling you out of your thoughts and you jolted "dude! I was in the zone"

"That was awful never say those words again"

"Anyway, see you later" you started walking over the two looking to the bartender for two whiskeys which you picked up on the way

"Hey pretty ladies, whiskey for you both?" You placed the drinks down onto the table standing above Wanda seeing the blush crawl up her neck

"Why thank you handsome" Nat graciously took the drink taking a sip "mhmm sweet, thanks"

You offered her a sweet smile "only sweet drinks for some sweet ladies"

You watched the two exchange glances back and forth and decided to take the first move placing your hand on Wanda's shoulder feeling her tense "are you okay princess? You seem a little tense, do you need some air?"

When she didn't answer Nat answered for her "she definitely needs some air, I trust you to take care of my girl"

"I'll return her in perfect condition"

Nat nudged Wanda making her jump up and practically in your arms making you laugh "a little jumpy? Come on?"

You looked to her friend

"She's called Wanda and I'm Nat"

You thanked her "thanks Natalia, I'm Y/n, come on Wanda"

*****************************************************************

She hadn't said anything since you took her outside "are you okay Wanda?"

She quickly nodded "y-yeah I'm okay just nervous I guess"

You smiled holding in a laugh "there's nothing to be nervous of, I do want to say you're very pretty"

She looked up at you and you put your hand on her face stroking her cheek with your thumb

"You think I'm pretty?"

You nodded "I think you're fucking beautiful actually"

She smiled pushing forward to kiss you suddenly making you pull back suddenly, something you definitely didn't want to do looking at her now shocked face

"Oh god I'm so sorry-

You shushed her with your finger "no no Wanda it's okay I just wasn't expecting you to be so forward"

She started shivering and you pulled off your jacket giving it to her "let's go back inside, if you still want to suck face there's a private room I have a key too"

Wanda smiled at you hugging the jacket tighter around herself "this is not going as well as I thought it would do, I've just come out of a 4 year relationship with a man"

You chuckled "you're so cute, if you want to take things slow I understand"

She shook her head "no no I need to do something stupid"

"Trust me I am so stupid, I didn't even know my best friend was flirting with me until they flat out asked to sleep with me"

Wanda looked at you oddly

"Oh I didn't sleep with him, definitely not into men, anyway come on it's going to rain"

You led her back into the building but instead of going back to her table you directed her through a small room closing the door behind you both

Wanda looked around the small room admiring the small amount of light throughout the room and the small refrigerator

"Theres some water in there if you want one" you said sitting down on the small couch leaving a space for Wanda which she took gladly scooting herself close enough to you that she was basically on your lap so you decided to fill the gap pulling her onto your lap straddling you making her squeal

"Y/n!" She laughed grabbing your shoulders to keep from falling and nuzzled her face in your neck

"You were practically on my knee anyway so why not?"

There was a nice silence that filled the air for a few moments before Wanda lent forward asking to kiss you this time, you smirked and lent forward connecting your lips, soft as first but then turned hungry with both of you fighting for dominance, you won that battle when your fingers dug into her hips and she gasped letting your tongue in

When air finally became a problem, for Wanda at least, you and your demon lungs couldn't care less, she pulled back breathing heavily "woah, you're great at kissing"

You both laughed still keeping close to each other "so, am I better than a man?"

She lightly slapped your arm "don't bring him up when I'm straddling you"

There was a sharp knock on the door making you both jump and Wanda quickly eft your lap much to your dismay "I'm killing whoever just interrupted us"

begrudgingly you got up and opened the door and it slammed opened nearly knocking you over

"Wanda what the fuck are you doing with this fuck girl?!"

The man stormed in with a stressed looking Natasha behind him, when you glanced at her she mouthed a sorry

"hey woah who the fuck are you?" You tried remaining calm but this douchebag wasn't helping you

You looked to Wanda who was looking to the floor scared to say anything so you tried again "hey dickhead!" He finally looked at you "are you her ex?"

He rolled his eyes "we're on a break but she didn't say anything about fucking other people"

Nat scurried behind you hugging Wanda close while you dealt with the situation "okay well I was under the impression that you two broke up and I'll be honest by the look of Wanda right now she's right"

He scoffed squaring up to you and you had to hold back a laugh "oooh big man are you? How about you calm down and just take a fucking seat"

He didn't listen and pushed you

"Ooooh okay I see how this is going to go" you laughed pushing him back to the ground with strength that surprised him "what the hell?"

Your eyes glowed red as you knelt down to him close and growled "you need to stay away from Wanda, if I hear you have come anywhere near her I will make it my mission to make you so fucking miserable for the rest of your pitiful life and it won't be a long life trust me"

To Wanda and Nat they couldn't hear anything you were saying and Wanda was getting nervous "what's happening?"

"I don't know Wands, it'll be okay though, were you enjoying yourself before we barged in?"

The woman blushed and Nat resisted shouting in joy instead whisper shouting "oooooh you little devil, I don't blame you, she's really hot"

At that moment Wanda's ex jumped up and bolted for the door, you turned around still with your red eyes and looked at the women "he won't bother you anymore princess"

"What's wrong with your eyes?...."

You sighed deciding you couldn't be bothered to hide anymore, maybe they wouldn't run out of the room screaming "I'm a demon okay? A soul sucking hell dweller who thrives on the pain from humans"

The women looked at you warily so you stepped forward giving your hand to Wanda to grab which she did "Wanda, what do you have to say?"

"You're a really good kisser" it was a whisper but you heard it laughing along with her

"Wanda are you serious? She's a demon! Pretty sure they are evil"

The woman shrugged "honestly Nat I've been through so much shit what's the worse a demon could do?"

"You're amazing, I can't wait to get you in bed" you yanked her close, kissing down her neck sucking purple marks into the skin hearing her groan but pulled away not wanting to get ahead of yourself "you're going to be my favourite meal"

Nat was sick of being left out "well if we're sleeping with demons now do you have a friend? I imagine demons are hard to come by separately"

You laughed "actually I do, do you like men or women?"

Nat was taken aback but answered "oh you do? Okay women"

"Okay" you fished your phone out of your pocket dialling a number "hey Maria what are you doing? Well I've got a girl here, no shut up we're not sharing stop asking for it, just get down here now, yeah she's really hot"

You waited a minute before turning to Nat "what's your blood type?"

"Why?" Nat asked cautiously

You shook your head "just demon reasons"

"O negative"

You nodded speaking back into the phone "O negative, yeah yeah I know it's common, least it's not O positive"

After a few more minutes another knock at the door interrupted you and you hung up the phone going to open the door revealing a brunette woman leaning against the door "is that my suit?"

She rolled her eyes "you have like 800 suits Y/n let me have 1 blue one" she pushed through the door and smiled at the women "hello beautiful ladies" she pointed to Wanda "by the way you're looking at Y/n I can tell you're not mine, but you" she pointed to Nat trying to hide her smile "you want me" walking up to Nat she held her hand out

"I'm Maria"

Nat took a hold of her hand and Maria twisted it to bring it to her lips placing a kiss to her knuckles

"I'm Natasha"

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman, not to be forward but I have a really comfortable bed and it's so lonely without a hot woman there"

You scoffed "Maria what did I tell you about awful pick up lines?! Its 2023 now, you have to be respectful"

"That was respectful! I told her my bed was comfortable, nothing more respectable than that"

You took hold of Wanda's hand "okay well you two have fun, Wanda and I are going to go"

"Where are we going? I don't really want to leave Nat"

Before you could reply Maria proposed an idea "why don't we all go back to our house? I'm sure Loki can be somewhere for the night"

"Fine, but we're not having sex with these ladies in the same room, last time we did that it didn't end well"

Maria burst out laughing "that sounds so sinister Y/n! We promise nothing bad happened ladies, just a few sore thighs and raw backs, a few bite marks, but no one died"

That didn't fill the two with much confidence so you kissed Wanda on the cheek "I promise you'll be treated like works of art, fragile and delicate"

Wanda shrugged "I'm not that delicate"

Your breath hitched "oh? So I can do whatever I want to you? I can use your body as my canvas?"

Using your fingers you started to trace patterns on her exposed skin under her shirt but Maria stopped you "hey hey I know how you get with your fingers, let's go back to the house, where's you car?"

You shrugged never letting your eyes leave Wanda's body "forget the car, lets just apparate"

"Pretty sure that would make these two sick"

"Not if we distract them with kisses"

Maria turned back to Natasha "we can take an uber if you want to be more comfortable?"

Wanda managed to look away from you to Nat "come on Nat you're normally the one making me do crazy things"

Nat felt a headache coming on, crazy things are good and fine but absolutely fucking stupid sleeping with demons crazy things were not on her bingo card

"Listen to your friend little red, Maria here will take such good care of you"

Nat glanced between the 3 of you and just sighed "thank you Maria I think I'd be more comfortable in an Uber as long as Wanda's okay"

Wanda nodded "I'm absolutely fine Nat" turning back to you "let's go!" She jumped into your arms wrapping her legs around you tight "hold on tight honey" you two apparated away leaving Maria and Nat alone

"Now that we're alone how about we have fun here?" Maria took her suit jacket off revealing a sleeveless shirt showing off her defined muscles

"How are you so muscular?!" Nat blurted out quickly covering her mouth is slight embarrassment but Maria just laughed throwing her jacket to the sofa "oh honey I am a demon, I love going to the gym and pissing men off with my muscles"

Nat was stunned "god you could bench press me so much" she whispered and Maria smiled "I could do so much more than that detka"

Nat gasped "you speak Russian?"

"I know you're Russian, so why not try and impress you"

"If you can cook I'll get on knees right now"

Maria smirked "I make an incredible beef Wellington"

Nat laughed stalking forward kissing Maria hard both of them falling onto the couch, Nat straddling Maria and Maria placing her hands on her hips, when she pulled away Nat was breathless while Maria wasn't "it's weird how you don't have breathe"

The demon shrugged "I find it helps in certain situations"

Nat rolled her eyes knowing full well what she meant but refusing to acknowledge it

"I do want to ask a favour from you"

Nat raised an eyebrow "oh?"

"Let me taste you"

"Taste me how?" She said with a suggestive tone

"Well eventually the way you're thinking off, but no I mean something sweet and red" Maria licked her lips honing in on her neck

"Woah! My blood?!" Nat tried pulling away but Maria kept a close hold on her "shh honey I promise it'll be fine, why do you think Y/n asked for your blood type?"

"Well I was little preoccupied actually, I still can't believe any of this!"

Maria calmed Nat down "okay okay, have you ever given blood?"

Nat nodded still not relaxed in Maria's hold but not trying to move away much "it's just like giving blood, two little pin pricks in your neck, a slight pain and some dizziness then you're all good"

Maria's logic made a little bit of sense but Nat was still unsure "you won't kill me?"

"I wouldn't kill a beautiful woman like you, I promise just a little bite and then I'll fuck you so hard you forget all about your neck pain"

"Okay"

"Maria grinned gently grabbing a hold of Nat's hair pulling to the side for more access to her neck. She kissed a sweet spot hard making it tender enough for her fangs to go right through it.

"Relax honey, your heart is racing, it'll be a lot less painful if you breathe, come on let's breathe"

Nat relaxed and focused on her breathing then on the feeling of Maria's hands that started stroking the skin on her back, gently scratching her

"That's it" Maria said finally piercing the skin feeling the blood coat her mouth making her groan at the taste

Nat's legs started to give out and Maria felt that gently sitting the both of them down on the couch still drinking the blood, when she finally had her fill she slowly pulled away licking the holes until they sealed up.

Nat's body was slightly limp weakly pulling herself up to look at Maria "hey pretty girl, thank you for letting me drink from you"

"Mhhph okay" her eyes closed and she was asleep in seconds sticking to Maria's body "yeah, I think we'll be keeping you two, if Y/n can get Wanda to give in just as easily as you"

Maria kissed her cheek leaving a blooded mark making her giggle, what a fun time she'll have with her in the future

*******************************************************************

"Jesus Christ that was wild, give me a few minutes please" you placed Wanda down on your bed kissing her forehead "I know baby it's okay it's a little weird as first but it gets easier every time"

"So I have a little question for my pretty girl" you asked walking to your closet to take your suit jacket and shirt leaving you in a sports bra and trousers, Wanda was watching you closely half paying attention

"You can ask me whatever you want wearing that"

You laughed going back to the bed sitting next to a now sat up Wanda "good, so obviously I'm a demon and I'm glad you're okay with it, but do you know what that means?"

Shaking her head no you let her straddle you letting her get comfy before continuing "it means that I like to drink blood"

"Like a vampire?"

You closed your eyes growling "no and don't ever compare me to those soul sucking leaches ever again"

"Oh okay, I'm sorry"

You soothed her stroking your hands along her jean covered thighs "it's okay, vampires and demons just don't get along that well, anyway the reason I say about drinking blood is because I think you'll have some delicious blood"

"You want to drink from me?" She asked innocently and you loved it "yes princess, I promise it won't hurt much, just like two pin pricks in your neck"

Your explanation made it slightly better "okay you promise you won't hurt me?"

You chuckled "what happened to not being delicate?"

"Yeah well spanking me and biting me are two different things" your eyes widened "spanking? Bloody hell Wanda, maybe I'll skip the blood"

You both laughed but you couldn't wait anymore, you started kissing her neck, finding a spot you liked sucking hard making the skin soft enough for your fangs, when it was soft enough you pierced the skin hearing a groan from Wanda making you suck harder, fuck her blood was delicious!

Having your fill, you finally stopped drinking and licked the holes in her skin to close them up "thank you princess for letting me drink from you"

Wanda's whole body felt heavy with her whole weight on your body, she was definitely sleepy "you can sleep honey I'll be here when you wake up" Wanda's eyes were closed already, yep definitely asleep already.

Your phone in your pocket buzzed making Wanda shift slightly but you shushed her kissing her hair when she stopped, you looked at your phone

Maria to Y/n

How'd you do?

She's delicious

We're talking about blood right?

For now ;)

Ugh whatever, Nat's blood is good too, so we keeping them?

Oh hell yeah!

Your phone buzzed with another message from someone else

Loki to Y/n

Did u get your victim? I came in the house B4 but heard groaning so left

For the love of satan just start spelling things correctly!

But yeah I did and so did Maria, you can come back into the house she's asleep

Asleep? Did a bad job did u?

Fuck you I just drank some of her blood so she's very tired now

Yeh K sure that's the reason

😠 don't you ever 'K' me again you asshole!

🥰 Luv u

You threw your phone to the side choosing to kill Loki later letting yourself lay down bringing Wanda with you making her comfortable "we'll have so much fun together"

#wanda maximov #wanda maximoff #marvel #mcu #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #marvel au #marvel imagine #loki laufeyson #nat x maria #maria hill #demon!y/n #wanda maximoff x you #maria hill x natasha romanoff #Maria Hill

[mercurygray]

For the one word prompts, how about “security” + whichever one of your OCs the inspiration strikes! - @softspeirs

Katie, I hope you don't mind that I've decided to use this prompt for Crank and Laura!

For those of you who might be new here, Laura Arsenault is an OC of mine from The Darkening Sky; she's a nurse with the 128th Field Hospital and a good friend of Frankie Horgan, who is a good friend of Marj Gordon's. Part of Laura's story is that she has a brother, George, serving with a tank regiment, and an older sister, Vivian, who was one of the Army nurses imprisoned on Bataan.

--

She never thought she'd miss the war.

Well, not the war, exactly - Laura didn't miss the war itself. She didn't miss the smell of operating wards and dirt and wet canvas and boots that were never dry and washing out of a helmet and keeping the rats out of your bunk and scrubbing blood out of your nails. She didn't miss the dying, or the dead.

But maybe it was - was the being in it that she missed, the sense of shared self and shared goals and shared purpose. And she missed the people. They weren't ever alone, in that hospital - there was always someone to talk to, always work to help with, always someone to go see. And getting a date had been infinitely easier. Easy as pie, when you were one of only fifty or so girls and there were dozens - or hundreds - of guys at the dance.

Not any more. Now she was back home, where no one knew her, and everyone she did know was always a bus ride away instead of a two minute walk, and finding dates was awful - especially once everyone heard what she did for work. "Oh, a nurse." And then this odd little smile and an anecdote about whoever they knew in the hospital, or something like that, and she'd have to smile and nod and pretend to care.

And all the men were - well, she didn't know where they were, but none of them seemed to be in Boston, or at least, not the part of it that she was, and yet everyone seemed to have a brother, or a cousin, or a - a someone who needed to meet someone. But none of those guys ever seemed interested in more than one meeting. She wasn't desperate enough yet to start answering those ads in the paper, but it felt like a distinct possibility - reduced to twenty words or less.

So here she was again - another blind date, this time with Rose's cousin Charlie. "You'll like him," Rose had said, patting her arm and handing her the address of a restaurant. "He was a pilot."

A pilot - possibly her least favorite kind of soldier, probably because she'd seen so few of them, and heard so much, and your average infantryman didn't have a lot of nice things to say about the bomber boys, except that they were lazy, and they were late, and they were getting all the press. Now, come on, Laura, you haven't even met him yet.

Yes - hadn't met him yet because he was late, and now she was sitting, like a bad penny, all on her own at this table in the middle of the back wall trying not to look too lost in this big room with all these other perfectly paired off people.

"Miss Arsenault?"

Well, here he was - and lord, did he ever sound like a local boy - Laura heard it in every syllable. She held out a hand to shake, and he took it, his grip firm and uncompromising.

"Mr. Cruikshank."

He had a kind face - that was something, anyway. Not the sort of face she would have thought belonged to a pilot, if she was being honest, but that was Hollywood and a lot of movies talking. His hair, she could see, was very naturally curly, though he'd done his darnedest to comb it down into parting neatly. He was wearing civies, or mostly civies, anyway - charcoal grey trousers and a sweater that wasn't too far out of current fashion with his leather bomber jacket over it, his name, C. Cruikshank, stamped into the leather plate over his left breast.

"It's Charles, if that's too much of a mouthful."

Not Charlie, then. She'd have to remember that. "Laura," she offered, watching him pull out his chair and drape his jacket over the back. "The waiter should be back soon, I didn't - want to order without you."

"You ever been here before?" he asked, obviously just trying to make conversation, his eyes darting around the room.

"Once or twice, but not - not for dates." I'm trying not to sound like the kind of girl who goes on a lot of dates. "Rose said you were - were a pilot. What'd you fly?"

"Heavy bombers," he offered, shuffling a little in his chair. "B-17s, out of Norfolk. And you were a - were a nurse?"

She nodded. "Field hospital. We were everywhere."

"Imagine that was a -- a hard job." His eyes were still avoiding hers, his hands rubbing together nervously in his lap.

"I can't imagine what being in a plane was like. We didn't get too many airman."

He nodded, and Laura looked back down at the candle on the table, feeling foolish for not knowing what else to say. He was bouncing his leg, underneath the table, his chair not quite pulled in all the way, like he was going rather than coming, waiting for the check instead of waiting for the menu.

Well. I guess that's that on that, then. Failed before we even ordered. She'd get chicken - that was easy, and cheap, now, too. They could eat and mumble through something about the weather and she wouldn't have to do this again and she could tell Rose on Monday that Charles had been charming but not the guy for her.

Just how had Vivian managed it - finding the love of her life before the end of the war, and in a hospital, no less! Laura knew she shouldn't compare, but it was hard not to, when it seemed to have been so easy and where she was now seemed so hard. Not that Vivian had had it easy, at all - she'd only been in Hawaii because she'd been in the Philippines, and she'd only met Andy because she'd been on light duties, and him recovering from surgery. She'd made the mistake of saying it, once, a few months ago, and the look Vivian had given her would have scared anyone silent. "Don't say that, Laur," she'd begged. "I'm not lucky. You don't want to be where I've been."

"So, what did Rose say about me? When she set this up?" He looked nervous about hearing the answer.

"She said she thought we'd get along, I think." Laura offered, and then paused. Wait. That's ...not what she said. She said we wouldn't have to explain anything to each other. And she said that you'd had a hard war...but who didn't?

She didn't want to say that last part out loud - no one liked to be a charity case, and she knew that better than anyone. But as she thought about it, really thought about the way Rose had spoken about her cousin, she realized that Rose had only brought up meeting Charles when she'd told a story about Vivian. And she realized, finally, where she'd seen the look on his face before - in Vivian's eyes, always trying to find the exits, calculate the quickest way out. This man wasn't just a pilot - and maybe there were things from his war that he didn't want to explain, either, things that really were hard. "Do you want to switch places?" she asked, moving her chair out from the table a little.

He looked guilty, and…afraid, even, a man trapped who'd been trapped before. "My sister never wants to sit with her back to the door," she said, trying not to pry. "She always wants to - see that there's a way out." She paused. "Three years behind wire will do that to a person."

He looked up from his hands and stared. "Your sister?"

She nodded. "She was with MacArthur in the Philippines." She met his eye. "I don't mind, really."

"Thanks." They moved seats, leaving their coats where they were, and a kind of calm came over him as he took in more of the room. "Imagine she had it worse. I was…only eighteen months. In Germany. 43 to 45."

Laura could see her sister's face as he said that - could see Andy's face, too, talking with her brother George over their pipes after dinner about whether fighting in the heat or the cold was worse. "She'd tell you it wasn't a competition. If it helps."

He smiled at that, loosing up a little. "My doc says I should work on things like this - dinner, and conversation, and…crowded rooms." He shrugged. "I know no one likes a project, but I'm….trying." He smiled a little bashfully. "And I'm a little nervous anyway - Rose …didn't tell me you were pretty."

She felt herself blush, and looked down at her napkin. Well, all right, Charles Cruikshank, tell me I'm pretty. "She didn't tell me her cousin Charles was cute, either."

It was his turn to blush, and he did it almost sweetly, a touch of color coming into his already ruddy cheeks. "You know I haven't…actually been called Charles for about five years. He feels like…some other fellow that's not me. All my friends call me Crank."

"Crank?" What a name! Pilots.

He smiled again - really smiled, this time, his eyes even lighting up a little, and she was glad, finally, that he'd felt security enough in being called by his name to show her what his smile looked like. "Someone would tell you it's 'cause I complain a lot, but it's, it's short for Crankshaft. It's a long story."

The waiter appeared, pad and white apron at the ready. "Are we ready to order?"

Laura looked at Crank and smiled. She would still order the chicken, and there would be no need to talk about the weather. "Well, why don't you tell it to me? I think we've got some time."

#asked and answered #Anonymous #softspeirs #i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #tds cinematic universe #laura arsenault #vivian arsenault #masters of the air x oc #postwar

[jaylaxies]

okay i’m in fucking delulu land but i can’t stop think about it 

this is probably gonna sound a little stilted, but I'm literally freaking out at the thought

it sound like super cliche but just imagine 

you are some kind of famous person and you've been asked to do a traveling show about with enhypen. so you are going to european country for do content 

since there were 7 people and all the rooms were for 2 people, you were offered to choose a member to live with by drawing lots. but of course they couldn't just put you and one other guy to live together, so it was decided to rent a two-room room for you and two member and put you together (a room for you and two guys in a separate one). it was a long argument and hundreds of games of rock-paper-scissors, but in the end you had to live with jay and sunoo. it was a good way because you were really good friends with sunoo, but jay…. all the guys looked at each other when he turned out to be the one you were going to live with. from the first time you met him it was a vibe going and even without filming the show it was obvious how much you liked each other, so behind your back the guys were always teasing jay that he would spend the next week with his BiGgEsT cRaSh  in the same hotel room, albeit different rooms

and it goes calm first days, during the day you all went to different places to shoot, ate delicious food in cafes and all that, in the evening you went back to your rooms and usually just relax 

on the first day you sat together with all members having dinner and discussing the day, but you couldn't noticing HOW Jay was looking at you the whole time, trying to please you, making sure you always had food and exactly what you liked, he was so sweet 

on the second day you had a long shoot and everyone was very tired, so you came back to the room like squeezed lemons. even though you had a two-room room, there was still one shower. when you returned, you literally fell exhausted on the bed, not even having the strength to go to the shower, so you kindly let the sunoo go to the shower first. when you were lying in bed, Jay came out of his room, tired no less than you. he was also going to take a shower, so he asked if he could wait here and after your permission sat on the bed leaning on the pillows. do you remember how you talked about something that happened in the day, but the next moment you wake up next to Jay in the morning, you're all in the same clothes that you went to bed yesterday and with makeup on your face.... Jay's arms are wrapped around you from behind, holding you close, and his face is buried in the top of your head. trying to get out of his arms, you gently get up and go to the bathroom, on the way you meet sunoo, who has already woken up and giggling says good morning to you. you ask him about what happened yesterday, but he just replies, "I don't know, maybe I was in the shower a little longer than I was supposed to, but when I came out, you and Jay Hyun were already asleep on the bed, I tried to call you, but you didn't react, so I didn't wake you up." you were surprised how you could be so tired that you fell asleep without even washing off your makeup, but there was no time for these thoughts, since it was time to get ready for the shoot

surprisingly, even after what happened, there wasn't much awkwardness between you and Jay. yes, it was a little embarrassing, but you were still comfortable with each other and the day was fun. in your room, in addition to a large bed, there was also a large TV, so you decided to watch the newly released movie together. to be honest, it was sunoo’s idea, but towards the end of the film, he lost interest in hit and left to talk with a friend on the phone, leaving you and Jay alone. midnight, twilight and the uninteresting movie when you're lying next to Jay dressed in his sleeveless T-shirt and shorts... what kind of movie could be more interesting than this guy right now...? since the three of you were lying on a double bed, you were pressed close to each other, but after sunoo left, he did not move a millimeter, continuing to be also close and indignant at the stupidity of the behavior of the main characters of the film 

when the movie finally ended, there was silence in the room for a while, there was only muffled laughter and sunoo’s voice in the next room, you were still lying close just looking at each other, you saw how he periodically looked at your lips, you knew what it meant and it made you more nervous than ever. it was probably the stupidest decision in your life, but after a long time of eye contact, you only gave out "well, it seems it's time to go to bed," Jay's eyes widened, he was surprised and confused, but did not dare to contradict you, so he simply replied "mmm, yes, if you want...". at the same second you thought what a fool you were, but there was nothing to return, so you turned your back to him and covered yourself with a blanket so that he wouldn't see your embarrassed expression. jay was confused by this situation, so he lay down with a big spoon to you and gradually put his hand to yours, hugging you from behind, but not snuggling too much for fear of causing discomfort. you wanted to fix the situation somehow, but you didn't know what to do at all, so you just stroked his hand lying next to him, wanting to show that it wasn't a rejection of his feelings or something like that

you pressed your back against his chest, wanting to be closer, you felt his breath on your neck, and your hips intuitively moved to his. snuggling up to him, you felt his bulge and you both realized that you realized what it was. he tried to move a little further away so as not to embarrass you, but this attempt was unsuccessful. no one was going to sleep and it was obvious, but you asked, "are you sleeping?" lie on your back and look at him a little from below. he grinned saying "no? wasn't it you who wanted to go to bed?", you laughed pushing him in the chest "maybe I changed my mind," Jay grinned and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, why?" he asked, changing his position and practically hovering over you. that was the last straw, you moved your hand from his chest to his cheek and kissed him. jay picked up the kiss very quickly, his arms wrapped around your waist and pressed you closer to him, his tongue was already walking over your mouth when his hands were under your pajamas, and yours were taking off his T-shirt. the situation was heating up by the minute, but you still remembered about sunoo, who was literally behind the wall with excellent audibility… 

babe you wrote a whole masterpiece fic please please please make a blog and post this for others to see and praise too‼️🤍 i literally have nothing to add oh god your mind is so amazing 🗣️🔊

#[🍪] : anons

[sol-is-the-reason]

Coming Out Headcanons

Character Selected:- Multiple BSD Men

Anime:- Bungou Stray Dogs

Reader:- Trans (ftm)

Type:- fluff

Summary:- you coming Out to your boyfriend and their reactions. {¿Kinda emotional?}

[A/n:- The Dazai part is kinda inspired from that one fic I read.]

•|DAZAI OSAMU|•

- Your sort of scared to tell him since you've heard him say of his dislikes of men especially when you both first met Atsushi.

- He probably knows something wrong because your acting nervous around him. But his first thoughts are if your gonna break up with him? His heart aches to even think about it.

- He'll start paying you more attention (even more than he already does) and would probably just sit there and stare at you with a blank face. He often does that, saying he's admiring you and your beautiful face. Don't let it fool you this time though the gears are turning in his pretty head.

- Although when he's satisfied and get outs the idea of you both breaking up, he calls you to him and asks whats wrong?

- Was it something he had done? You will have to reassure him that, that was not the case. Even though he doesn't show it that much. Hell no one would get even the slightest idea if something is bugging him unless he shows it himself. That's how good of a control he has over his emotions.

- Ultimately though, through that conversation you come out to him.

- "Oh. That's it?" He kind of thought all kinds of sad stuff mainly losing even you so he's just relieved, because he has lost so much and he doesn't want to lose you too.

- But once he sees your hurt expression, he's quick to give you assurance.

- He'll tell you that it doesn't matter to him. He fell in love with you, not your gender or body.

- He's quick to ask of your pronouns and if your ok with others knowing he'll announce it in the ADA and ask them to call you with your correct pronouns.

- So , basically he takes it well.

•|Atsushi Nakajima|•

- His first reaction is stunned silence. Give him a moment he's shocked. He's never been in a relationship before you. He didn't believe he could be in love or have a good friendship much less love, so he's pretty new to all this and doesn't know how to respond.

- But he's quick to get over his shock, and scrambled to find the right words.

- He went kinda of rambling how it was totally alright with him and he was glad you could tell him.

- You have to calm him down. It's just it's a big thing for him okay. He's had this cruel view of the world. And for you to trust him so much to tell him something like this, he thinks he fell in love with you even more if thats possible.

- Even better if he's the first person you come too. He couldn't be happier. He's a sweet ball of sunshine, and loves you very much.

- You both cuddle on the couch after, eating popcorn and watching some random movie you both probably have watched a hundred times.

•| Akutagawa Ryuunosuke|•

- You start of by giving him hints rather than telling him directly. You wanted to see what his reactions would be and go off on that. That was a bad move.

- You knew Akutagawa could be dense at times with a single minded personality-and you loved that about him- but now was really not the time to have that.

- Your hoped for that vanished when you got literally nothing out of him. He really was oblivious to it.

- You ended up telling him directly after failing for the upteemth time.

- His reaction is not much mainly because he doesn't exactly understand the concept or importance like he knows what it's about and the gender dysphoria and all but, you'll have to explain it a bit to him.

-But even with his lack of understanding, he's a sweet boyfriend who's got you covered.

- You want to take harmone therapy, he's with you to get you to the doctor.

- You want a binder, you'll have it the next day. Not just a simple one though, he's going to get you of every colour and shade, he'll review all of them just to find the most perfect and comfortable one for you.

- And he will threaten to kill anyone who says even the tiniest bit of this in the wrong way.

•| Fyodor Dostoevsky |•

- He already knows. Because let's be honest, to get this man into a relationship with you, yeah it won't happen until he knows your every little secret and your bare[not like that you smits] before him.

- He doesn't really have an opinion on it. If you want to be a male you can be a male, if you want to be a female you can be a female.

- Just as long as it won't interfere with his plans he's good to go along.

- It may seem a little cold of him but come on we're talking about Fyodor 😓.

- Although if your upset or something ruins your mood he's there for you. You both sit in silence on the roof of your apartment looking upon the midnight sky and twinkling stars leaning into his embrace.

- He won't admit it, not to you or to himself but he has a soft spot for you and only you. No matter how much he may deny it you have his 'evil, twisted' heart in the palm of your hands.

- Somehow you managed to crawl your way into his stone cold heart and unknowingly he had accepted the warmth you gave. Somehow you escaped through the mind of the genius into something more than just a pawn to lose.

#x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd akutagawa #dazai x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bungou stray dogs atsushi #atsushi x reader #akutagawa x reader #trans reader #bsd atsushi #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #atsushi nakajima #akutagawa ryuunosuke

[pascalscoffin]

You + Me Is All We Need

Full Pedro Masterlist

Sometimes, the only person a girl can count on is her daddy.

Warning: Minors Go Away I Will Kick You In The Forehead. 2007! No outbreak! No x reader or anything this is just a little insight on life inside the Miller house on a particularly rough day. Absent Mother. Depressed Sarah. Mentions Sarah might have an ED (she doesn’t I swear she’s just depressed). Mentions of Ellie x Sarah (they’re the same age).

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Somethings been wrong with Sarah lately, Joel’s not a hundred percent sure what it is but he can tell somethings been bothering her. Every time he’d go to bring it up though, he would chicken out and change the subject and it would make him feel a hundred times worse than he had before he opened his stupid mouth.

He’d thought, after graduation and with college right around the corner she’d be happier, go out with friends, maybe go on some dates with Ellie. He hadn’t even heard her say anything about her in about a week, which was odd because she was usually bringing up every little fact she could think of.

He’d noticed she was on her phone a lot more, scowled at it more, she didn’t push for movie nights nearly as much as she used to, most of the time rushing off to her room with her nose buried in her cellphone. He’d talked to Tommy and Maria, who both agreed she was probably just being an angsty teenager, but it didn’t feel like that, it felt like he was watching his babygirl struggle and there was nothing he could do. She ate less, talked to him less, she was just… not the same and it was hurting him to see her that way.

She’d started going on runs, he noticed, early in the morning before he got up. He started getting up earlier just to make sure she would actually make it back, watching her take off from his bedroom window, sometimes at half speed, other times at complete full speed. This wasn’t normal teenage angst, he was a teenager, he couldn’t remember ever choosing to run at five am at full speed.

Maria suggested she was having body issues and while Joel considered the running and not eating as evidence of that, it just didn’t… feel right. It wasn’t that, either. Eventually, he decided he’d stop asking other people for advice on his daughter, and he’d just ask her himself.

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She wasn’t there. She wasn’t fucking there. She promised she’d be there! The words echoed in Sarah’s head as her feet pounded into the pavement, tears streamed down her face, and Hert-Shaped Box blaring into her ears as her headphone cords hit her chest with each stomp. Ellie was responsible for her vast arrange in music taste. The Hannah Montana songs now accompanied by bands like Nirvana, No Doubt, and 4 Non Blondes.

She should text Ellie at least, she’s been messaging her ever since graduation, asking if she was alright, if she wanted her to come over. She had come over but Sarah had told Joel to just send her away, not feeling up to guests. Sarah’s kept her completely in the dark, didn’t even greet her after she faked her way through photos with her family. Ellie had known Michelle was supposed to be at graduation, and had sent Sarah an I’m sorry text when she noticed she wasn’t there.

Sarah had been showing her photos the entire week leading up to graduation, having found Michelle’s Facebook and decided on a whim to message her. Michelle had seemed so happy to talk her, replying quickly but gradually the texts got more distant, and then radio silence after not showing up at her graduation. Had even sent Sarah a photo of her getting into her car with the message ‘headed to you!’ With a heart that Sarah had fallen for immediately.

Worst of all, when she’d gone to find Michelle’s Facebook and ask her what happened she was blocked, she’d worried and thought something happened, and then Ellie, after being forced by Sarah, looked up the Facebook account and it was full of new pictures of her with her family at the beach on the day of graduation. Sarah had been heartbroken, had left Ellie’s house without a word and ignored her dad the rest of the night when she got home, sobbing into her pillow.

She didn’t know why she didn’t tell Joel, maybe because she was scared he’d tell her the truth- that Michelle left for a reason. She wasn’t going to suddenly have a change of heart. It was something Sarah had already known, already told herself even without Joel saying it that that was the case. And she’d been fine with it. Completely fine with it.

Until prom happened and Maria helped her get ready in areas that Joel couldn’t. Like doing her hair better than a few braids or buns, which she had no problem with, but it was prom, she needed to go all out. She’d gone on Instagram while Maria was doing her hair, and was assaulted with photos of girls getting ready with their mothers and her heart sank to her stomach and stayed there.

She loved Maria, she did. But Maria was her aunt, not her mother. Prom was something you got ready for with your mother. Your mom was supposed to annoy you for photos while your dad tried to coax her away. But instead. Sarah had Maria and Tommy and Joel, who took a respectful amount of photos before sending her on her way with Ellie.

She just wished she’d had a mother growing up. Joel was great and she loved him more than anything. But there was always something tugging in her chest, and until recently she hadn’t put it together.

She ran until her feet hurt, stumbling to a stop and dropping to her knees on her front lawn, wheezing heavily as she tried to catch her breath. She felt a large hand on her should and flinched back, yanking her headphones out as she looked up, relaxing a bit when she saw Joel looking down at her worriedly. “Dad-“

“Sarah.. come on let’s get you some water.” Joel frowned deeply and helped her off the grass. “I… we need to talk.” He sighed heavily as he took her inside, gathering the words in his head as he grabbed her a glass of water. And then he got her some bread and the butter for toast.

“I’m not-“ “eat it or I’ll make you.” Joel sat next to her on the couch and rubbed his face as he sighed, watching her pick up the bread and take a bite. “You haven’t eaten a full meal in days, babygirl. You’re worrying me.” “There’s nothing to be worried about.” “There is. Somethings going on with you and I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“You can’t help anyway, dad.” Sarah looked down at the taste in her hand, tears in her eyes. “If you tell me I can try.” Sarah huffed and threw the toast down on the coffee table. “You won’t get it.” “Why? Because I was a teenager twenty years ago? I still remember being one.”

“God why is it always because I’m a teenager?!” Sarah stood up and threw her hands up. “Or because I’m a girl- or-or because I’m on my period?!” Joel leaned back, eyes widened a little, he opened his mouth to speak but Sarah cut him off. “You won’t get it dad because both of your parents loved you!” She screamed.

“Sarah-“ Joel stood up quickly and moved around the coffee table, frowning when she took a step back from him. “You- you had a mom and a dad! And they were both there! Papa tau-taught you how to-to do all that guy stuff and-and granny taught you the-the other stuff.” She was hyperventilating now, sobbing as Joel grabbed her shoulders and the tears streamed down her face. Unable to even think of what mothers teach their children in her frantic state.

“I can’t even get my mom to show up to my graduation!” She sobbed loudly, dropping her head as her hands covered her face. “Sarah…” Joel tried to pull her closer but she shoved him away. “No!” She sobbed. “No I don’t understand!” She yanked her phone out of her pocket and wiped her eye as she opened Facebook and showed Joel the blocked account. “She told me she would be there and then she blocked me!”

She threw her phone across the living room. “And-and I went to Ellie’s and she-she looked on her Facebook and she’s at the fucking beach with her new family!” Joel didn’t really know what to do, letting her vent and scream as much as she needed to.

“Fuck her!” She yelled at the phone, her shoulders shaking. “I don’t need her. I don’t.” She shook her head rapidly. “I didn’t need her to-to teach me how to tie my shoes or-or ride a bike, or play soccer, or do my hair, or help me get ready for-for my first date-“ Joel started to move closer to her as she continued. “I don’t need her to be there for my wedding. I didn’t need her to be there to get me ready for prom, I didn’t need her at graduation! I don’t need or want her advice for anything!”

When Joel grabbed her this time she finally broke, turning to look up at him and sobbing, “Why won’t she love me, daddy?” Joel’s eyes filling with tears as he pulled Sarah into his chest, lowering them both to the ground when he noticed her whole body starting to shake.

Joel wasn’t good with words, in fact he fucking sucked at them. But as he sat there on the floor with his 18 year old daughter curled up in his lap, sobbing over a woman who couldn’t think twice about her if her life depended on it, he knew he couldn’t let her feel this way. Like it was her fault.

“Listen to me.” He whispered into the top of her head before taking a deep breath and rubbing her back. “What Michelle does has nothing to do with you and whether or not you deserve to be loved.” He hugged her tighter. “Because you do, babygirl. You’re funny and so smart and you’re beautiful and your smile is out of this world.” He shook his head. “Don’t let her actions, her failures as a human being, dictate how you perceive yourself. Michelle… she’s set in her ways and it has nothing to do with you. She’s sick, honey. There’s something… not right about her and I don’t want you to get caught up in her web of lies and misery.” He whispered.

“You’ve got a great life without her. A girl that’s crazy about you, a dad that would take down the Incredible Hulk if it would make you happy, a loving aunt and uncle and a cousin on the way.” He pulled back and cupped her cheeks to make her look at him. “You’re doing wonderful without her and you don’t need her coming into your life and messing it up. Show her you can be happy without her, can move on in your life without her.”

Sarah’s lip wobbled, her tears having stopped by now as she listened to Joel, nodding weakly before hugging Joel tightly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so mean to everyone and I’m starving and I started ignoring everyone and-“ “and you stink.” Joel teased. Sarah gasped and pulled away, seeing nothing but fondness in his eyes as she shook her head.

“Just cause you run like you’re running from the police or something. Go take a shower, I’ll make you something to eat and we’ll watch whatever you wanna watch.” He said softly, helping her stand up, relieved she had her strength back. “… can you make your empanadas? And put in Curtis and Viper?”

Joel smiled softly and nodded, surprised she actually wanted to watch that movie. “Yeah. I can make empanadas and put in Curtis and Viper.” He chuckled when she smiled and turned around to go shower, shaking his head before slowly letting his smile drop and his jaw tense.

Fucking Michelle.

Sarah wouldn’t be a hundred percent yet, he knew that, and it would likely be a while before she felt and acted like her old self again. He was glad he could calm her down, though. It was just taking every remaining cell in his body not to make one of those Facebook accounts for the soul purpose of absolutely reaming Michelle for her behavior, but part of him new she would thrive too much off of that, to know that she upset another human being so deeply.

So, instead, while he was cooking he did make a Facebook, but not to search out Michelle and lay into her, even if he wanted to so bad. He made his profile picture a photo of him and Sarah and immediately loaded the account with photos of her or the both of them together.

He posted every picture of prom, graduation, and school events before then. He was proud of Sarah and he wasn’t going to let his lack of technology or Michelle’s sick heart let it go unnoticed.

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How do we feel about background Ellie x Sarah?

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #Joel tlou #Joel miller tlou #Sarah miller #Sarah tlou #Sarah miller tlou

[magmahearts]

TIMING: current PARTIES: @ariadnewhitlock & @magmahearts LOCATION: downtown wicked's rest SUMMARY: after seeing a movie together, cass and ariadne make plans to get smoothies. unfortunately, they're interrupted. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

The movie was fine. It wasn’t a particularly good movie, though it wasn’t bad enough to be funny, either. It was subpar, mostly; the kind you watched and immediately forgot about on the walk home. That was fine, of course. The movie wasn’t the point of the outing. The point was to hang out with Ariadne, whose company was enough to make any movie worth watching. Cass grinned as she walked, arm looped through her friend’s and feet kicking.

They hadn’t done this as much lately. With Makaio back home and not yet ready to meet anyone else just yet, Cass had been leaving her cave less and less. But she missed Aria, and she felt guilty for spending less time with her without being able to give her any kind of solid reason for it. The movie was an excuse, really. She hadn’t even really wanted to see it. She’d just wanted to see her friend.

“Do you want to get smoothies or something?” She was a little anxious being away from the cave for this long — part of her still worried she’d come home to find it empty, to find herself abandoned by her father — but she thought she could handle another hour or so. “There’s a really good smoothie place nearby.”

—

She was just happy to spend time with Cass. Ariadne couldn’t think of anything that they could do together that she wouldn’t be happy about. Which was amazing. Not surprising, because Cass was literally the most amazing, but still amazing in its own way if only because she’d never thought that she’d end up with a best friend like you heard about in books and movies and tv. And like, she knew she was totally biased, but she also figured that Cass was better than any of the best friends available in books or movies or tv.

They hadn’t had time to hang out in what felt like forever (though obviously wasn’t literally forever), even though they’d talked online, and so when Cass had invited her out, Ariadne had agreed without a second thought. The movie had been mediocre, but it was fun to have watched it with her best friend.

She needed to stop repeating best friend in her head over and over, as if something was going to take a drastic shift and change. Cass wouldn’t do that. The two of them were going to be best friends for hundreds and hundreds of years. “Yes! Smoothies sound good. I’d love that!” Ariadne wondered for a moment if she was being overly enthusiastic, but with Cass, she knew she could be any part of herself and her friend would accept her for it. “I think I want one with all the berries they have. How about you?”

—

She thought she’d probably needed this. Having her dad around was great and incredible and wholly unparalleled, but Cass was a social person and her father seemed to prefer the quiet. She respected him, and she understood that preference, but it still made her feel a little uneasy sometimes. She liked the conversations they had, but she wasn’t sure there were enough of them. With Ariadne, there never seemed to be even a moment of quiet between them. Cass needed that sometimes, needed to hear herself talk just to remind herself that she had someone to talk to. 

It was better for her dad, too, she thought; with Cass spending the evening with Ariadne, Makaio got an evening to himself. She worried he’d grow tired of her eventually, the way most people did. Maybe giving him breaks like this could delay that inevitability. They had forever, after all; she wanted to use it.

Ariadne accepted the invitation for extending their evening, and Cass preened. This was fun. This would be fun! “Oh, berries are good! I like it when my smoothie is purple. I’m not sure what I need to mix together to make it the most purple. I think we should experiment a little bit. Like, put some blue and red stuff together and test it out. I want it to be really cute.” The taste was secondary to that, really. Looping her arm through Ariadne’s, Cass began to lead the other girl towards the smoothie shop. “What color is yours with all the berries?”

—

She hadn’t been a quiet child, not especially, though she hadn’t been wildly loud either. Not by any stretch. Still, with Cass, Ariadne felt a certain comfort that she hadn’t felt in forever. Certainly not with the blonde lady and Jade trying to murder her. She loved how much Cass had to say, and she loved listening to everything. It was wonderful, no matter what Cass was talking about, though of course if it were something sad or hard to hear, wonderful wasn’t the right word to describe it, but anything with Cass could be made into something beautiful.

“I love that. I think experimenting is good, and experimenting to make stuff purple is the best.” She gave a firm nod. “Like Steph, with Steph and Cass. Best friends just like us.” Ariadne seamlessly looped her arm with her Cass’s. “Mine’s kinda purple. Pretty good purple. So we could start with mine and see how we can make it the best purple it can be? I bet with teamwork, we can really get it good.” 

—

She still wasn’t quite used to people listening to her. At best, people were willing to let her blather and ignore whatever it was she was saying. At worst, they told her to stop talking altogether. But Ariadne listened to her, and there was a quiet thrill in that. She thought of her father, waiting for her back in her cave. She thought of how carefully he had listened when she spoke about her experience with Rhett, about how frightened she’d been. She had a best friend who listened to her and now, she had a father who did, too. It wasn’t something she’d ever dared to hope for, but it was exhilarating. Cass wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get used to it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“Yeah! Exactly! Purple’s a great color, and I think more things should be purple in general. Food, drinks, all kinds of stuff. Pink, too!” She grinned at the idea of starting with Ariadne’s drink as a base and building on it. The anxiety that had lived in her chest since her father’s arrival ebbed a little. She was so worried about him leaving, and she still was, but this was a nice distraction. “Oh! We can try —” 

She cut off, step faltering a little. There was a man ahead of them, blocking their path. Cass tilted her head a little, tugging Ariadne to move around him. “Excuse us. We’re just…” The man sidestepped, continuing to block them, and Cass tensed. 

A smile stretched across his face, slow and dangerous. “So,” he said, “which one of you’s the corpse?”

—

She could’ve listened to Cass for hours. Ariadne figured she probably had, at some point, when Cass was so deeply devoted to a topic that she became even more mesmerizing than she usually was. It was better than anything she could’ve ever hoped for. If she could’ve created good dreams then they would have been exactly like this. The dream friend, everything she’d ever wanted but hadn’t had as a child. Her cousin’s friendship counted, but she and Cass were so similar in so many ways, and everything just clicked.

“I agree! Purple is the best! Absolute best. There should be more purple food that doesn’t taste like fake grapes. I think that gives purple a bad reputation, maybe, somehow?” Ariadne shrugged. “Pink absolutely! God, pink candies? Top tier. Did you know you can buy all pink Starbursts now? Proof positive that there must be a good amount of good in the world, don’t you think?”

Except she felt someone watching them. All out of nowhere. Which would have been a sucky feeling no matter what, but given how the last month had gone, it put her especially on edge.

This couldn’t be happening. No way, no how.

She followed Cass’s gaze, shrinking against her friend as the man moved to not let them pass. Corpse. That had to mean her, right? “I – neither of us, thanks so much!” She forced sheer cheer into her voice, so much so that Ariadne wasn’t sure if she was even the one saying that anymore. 

“Cut the shit, girlies.” He still said it with a perfect smile. “I’m only asking so I know how to handle this.” 

Ariadne completely clung to Cass, now. Grateful for the warmth her friend had, both in energy and in physicality. “I – Cass?” She whispered, eyes wide. “He’s – we need to –” then she cleared her throat. “We’re going to get smoothies, please. Please could you let us by, please?”

—

She tried to convince herself, at first, that this was nothing. That it was a misunderstanding, that this guy just happened to be in their way and would laugh and apologize and let them by without any more problems. But then he spoke. Then he said corpse, and Cass was right back in front of that cave again, Rhett’s hand at her throat. She thought of Ariadne, locked in that same awful man’s van for days, not knowing if or when she’d be saved. She thought of her father back in the cave, of the scar on his chest and the look on his face as he spoke. 

Why couldn’t people like this leave them alone? Why couldn’t they just go away? Cass and Ariadne weren’t hurting anyone. They were on their way to get smoothies. They weren’t bad or wrong or evil. They just… were. All they wanted to do was be. Was that so bad?

Ariadne spoke, and she sounded afraid. Cass’s eyes burned daggers through the man’s skull. “I know,” she said, voice gentle as she addressed Aria. “I know what he is.” Then, her tone hardened when she spoke to the hunter. “We’re not doing anything wrong. We’re just —”

He struck like a cobra, quick and decisive. It wasn’t a deadly strike; if anything, it was just… a way of testing the waters. Cass barely felt the sting; she just saw the bubbly, magma-like blood drip down onto the concrete alongside the shimmering sparkles of Ariadne’s. Twin wounds where their arms were clasped together shimmered up. The hunter’s brows shot up to his hairline as he studied them, head tilting. 

“Not sure what you are,” he said to Cass. Then, turning to Ariadne, “But I know exactly what to do with you.” 

It was all the warning either girl was given before the hunter struck again, this time targeting Ariadne and Ariadne alone.

—

She was dead.

She was very very much dead, but the idea of her being a corpse was unnerving. Especially in how the man was talking to her. About her. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling, but Ariadne was also determined not to break down. At least, if she could avoid it. Do her best to avoid it. She didn’t like not liking people, but when people tried to kill her just because she had died and come back to life, she had to figure maybe (possibly) it was okay for her to not like somebody.

There was no reason for people like this, for people like the bad scientist with the beard,or the blonde lady, or Jade, or anybody else, to go after them. Cass, especially, who’d never done anything wrong in her life. Ariadne, at least, had actually killed somebody (which Jade knew now and which yikes), and so there was reason for people to hate her. It didn’t mean she wanted it, or liked it (not at all), but it made sense – 

– and then a knife struck against where she was holding onto Cass, and Ariadne was proud of herself for one small moment that she didn’t scream, except that her blood was exposed, and then the dude was saying he knew what to do with her, and she didn’t like that. 

Didn’t like how he smiled or how he looked at her.

Before she could even fully process what was going on he came after her again and she felt herself fall to the ground and she kicked up in the air at the hunter man. Ariadne knew she could’ve done more, maybe, but she wasn’t about to leave Cass – and it wasn’t total nighttime so it wasn’t like she could astral project away. Or astral project to behind the hunter and kick him or push him or something like that. 

Like what a real hero would’ve been able to do. Like Cass.

She felt his blade cut into her thigh again, bright glittery near-liquid spilling out, staining her clothing. “Just – leave me alone!” She squeaked, angry at herself that she couldn’t sound more intimidating, that she couldn’t make herself scary.

“Once I’ve finished with you, of course.” The man’s smile was cruel and mean and Ariadne grabbed a handful of candies she’d had in her bag and threw them at him with all her might, hoping maybe it’d do some damage, or at least distract him.

—

It all happened so quickly. The man’s knife stung her arm and then she was cast aside and forgotten about as he laser focused on Ariadne instead. Cass was still reeling from the shock of it as, so fast it was hard to track, her best friend was shoved to the concrete with her attacker on top her her, knife at the ready. There was more glittery blood on the ground as the knife found Ariadne’s thigh, and Ariadne begged to be left alone, and the man didn’t care, and —

She kept going back to the cave, kept being transported as if she’d never left it at all. As if Rhett’s hand was still gripping her throat, as if his knife was still against her temple, as if she could still hear Alex and herself both pleading for her own life to someone who didn’t even consider her a person. 

Her father’s words echoed in her ears, the memory of his voice mixing together with the chaos of Ariadne and the hunter scuffling on the concrete. Do you think he would have lost sleep over it? Men like this don’t see us as people. But they were. Ariadne was. She was a person, and she was Cass’s friend, and she was worth more than ten of this stupid hunter. She was better than he could ever be. 

With a cry, Cass lunged at the man, leaping onto his back and yanking him backwards, desperate to pull him off her friend. “Don’t fucking touch her,” she snapped. The hunter fell back and, for a moment, Cass thought she’d been successful. But it quickly became clear that the move was an intentional one as her back hit the ground and he landed on top of her, pushing his weight against her until it was hard to breathe.

“I don’t know what you are,” he said lowly, “but I was going to let you live. I usually only kill the dead, but I don’t mind making an exception if you don’t smarten up. Let me do my job, and you can go.” He reared back against her again, hard enough for spots to dance along the edge of her vision, and then the weight disappeared. Cass had only a moment to be relieved before she realized he’d only left her to go back to Ariadne.

—

It was too fast.

It was always too fast. When the man with the van had grabbed her, it had been too fast.  In this past month, it had been too fast. When Cass had told her that the same man had attacked her and Alex, it had sounded too fast.She hadn’t been there then, of course, but it sounded fast. It sounded awful. Ariadne hated that feeling almost as much as she hated the hunger that came when she hadn’t fed in a while. Even though now she’d been doing better, at Inge’s encouragement. 

She knew that she hadn’t fed on this man, though. Not that Ariadne could recall each and every exact person she fed from, but she did her best, and this man was someone she was (pretty) sure she would remember.

She was back in the van but she couldn’t be, and Cass was here and Cass might’ve also been in trouble and - and - and – 

The hunter was on Cass now, and Ariadne shrieked (she wasn’t sure how big and scary and off putting it was, but hopefully a bit), except she’d fallen down again and tried to push herself up (selfishly thinking about how much of a pain it was going to be to do ballet tomorrow, but there had to be a tomorrow for her and Cass first), only just before the hunter had turned back around and went after her again.

“Stop it!” She shrieked, again, attempting to give his shins a quick kick and attempting to run (but not too far, because she couldn’t and wouldn’t leave Cass all alone). The man’s smile was the worst she’d come across so far. Well, probable worst, the man with the van’s smile still haunted her thoughts in the worst of ways. Ariadne grabbed the knife Inge had given her and gave a jab at the air, though the hunter deftly avoided it. Avoided it and struck her again, and Ariadne’s hand flew to her jaw, tears threatening to drop from her eyes. “Leave us alone!” Except he gave her a kick, catching her off guard, and sending her back to the ground.

—

It was like Cass didn’t matter at all. She was collateral damage, she was cast aside. And she didn’t want to be hurt, didn’t want to be a target again the way she had with Rhett, but — but she wanted to matter. She wanted to be important, wanted to be someone this man would remember, at least. She thought of Rhett, the way she always seemed to. She doubted he remembered her at all. He remembered Alex, she was sure, her claws in his skin, but Cass? Cass was no one. Nothing. The hunter who left that scar on her father’s chest probably didn’t remember him, either. This man wouldn’t remember Ariadne if he killed her here.

But Cass would.

Cass would remember forever, would grieve forever. This man would go on with his life, would sleep soundly, would forget he’d ever had this altercation at all when he had ten more just like it this month. And it wasn’t fair. Who was he to treat them like they were nothing? Who was he to decide that Ariadne was bad when Cass knew that she was good? 

The man had Ariadne on the ground again. Cass took a deep breath, filling her aching lungs with the oxygen he’d briefly denied them. She scrambled onto her hands and knees, she shot out, and she was slow. She was too slow. The man had a knife, he brought it down, he —

More glittering blood on the pavement as he pulled the knife out from between Ariadne’s ribs. Cass scrambled towards him, grabbed his feet and yanked him back with all her might. The knife came with him as he scrambled for purchase, sinking into the side of Ariadne’s ankle, and Cass screamed. 

Her glamour dropped. Her eyes burned bright red, the magma in her veins was hot. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he tried to sit up, yanked him back against her in a strange bear hug. Only this time, it was him who screamed. The smell of burning flesh filled the air and he struggled, but Cass only tightened her grip. 

“You think you get to decide?” Her voice cracked like a fire, like stone. “You think you’re better? You’re not! You aren’t! I said — I said you don’t fucking touch her!” As she yelled, the man continued to scream and thrash and struggle.

And it kind of felt good.

—

She didn’t need to breathe. The dead, in fact, very notably didn’t breathe, like, at all.

But she still felt something trapped in her lungs, in her chest, very much like when she’d held her breath underwater with Chance for way too long when they were both kids. Not wanting to give up until he did. But that lack of breath and tightening of her chest had been fun. This, right now, was not fun. Ariadne hated how it made her feel.

Before she could move, the man’s knife had slit through her shirt and into where her ribs should be. Where they were. Ariadne didn’t want to cry. That would be giving in, showing that she was easily defeated (which, of course, she was, but the hunter man didn’t have to know that). She felt her whole body convulse with pain, and she could see, out of the corner of her eye, Cass getting up (thank goodness she wasn’t dead), and then Cass was running at the two of them and there was a millisecond during which Ariadne felt like she could smile, before the man was yanked away, but not before he could do more damage, slicing into her ankle, and she did burst into tears then, if only for a moment, because she couldn’t lose her ability to dance, and so she hoped that whatever damage he’d done would be fixable on a – well, corpse. Except she did her best to not think of herself using the words that he had.

There were more important things to focus on now, anyhow. Like how absolutely beautiful and amazing her best friend looked without her glamour. It was awe-inspiring, and Ariadne made a mental note to tell Cass that when (not if, when – it had to be when) they got out of this mess.

But then there was another scream, and it wasn’t Cass, and it wasn’t Ariadne, and sitting up (weakly) she looked over in shock to see Cass holding him, the smell of burning flesh seeping into the air, almost enough to make her forget that she was actively bleeding glitter everywhere. “I – Cass!” She called out to her friend. 

“Hey – he’s – Cass?” Ariadne took in another shaky breath. “I’m okay. Let’s – we can go now. I have – ice – ouch – ice cream at my apartment and we can – Cass!” She did the best she could to get her friend’s attention. 

—

She was burning and he was burning and, for a moment, it felt like the whole world was, too. For a moment, Cass was Mount Vesuvius. She was erupting so beautifully, was raining rock and magma down, down, down while everyone marveled. The man in her arms was Pompeii, screaming and shuddering. She thought of the books she’d read on the event, the quiet excitement they’d left her with that she’d never told anyone about. Would this hunter turn to a cast when she was done with him? Would his body be frozen in time beneath stone? Could they leave him here, have him be a warning? 

Was it bad to want to?

He was still screaming, still burning, and Cass held on. He wasn’t a threat anymore; he hadn’t been a threat since the moment she grabbed him, and she knew it. She thought of her father, crouched in her cave. Why should we care for the lives of people who want us dead? He would have killed Ariadne. He would have killed her and gone home and slept through the night, would have done it without caring. Didn’t he deserve this? Didn’t she? She couldn’t stand up to Rhett, wasn’t sure she’d have been able to even if he were in front of her. She hadn’t been able to do much against Debbie, even if Nora had taken care of it for her. But she could stop this man. She could save Ariadne. She could. 

And then, Ariadne’s voice cut through the eruption, and Cass didn’t feel like Mount Vesuvius anymore. She didn’t feel powerful or large or looming, didn’t feel like a thing that had earned the right to sling magma and burst into flame. She felt like a little girl who’d done something bad, like a child being scolded. She gasped, glamour flying back up as she scrambled away from the hunter.

He looked bad. His skin was red and lumpy, sticking to the ground in every place where her body had been in direct contact with his. He wheezed, rolling onto his stomach to alleviate it, breathing in a way that sounded like it must have hurt. And Ariadne… 

What must Ariadne have thought of her? Cass couldn’t bring herself to look at her friend, couldn’t bear the thought that she might see disappointment or fear in her eyes. She thought of Kuma, of how terrified she’d been the first time Cass’s glamour dropped in front of her. She’d chosen to let the promise kill her rather than accept Cass for who she was, and Cass hadn’t even hurt anyone then. How could she expect Ariadne to look at her the same now?

Scrambling back further, Cass shot to her feet and stumbled back. “I — I’m sorry. I didn’t — I wasn’t trying to —” Her throat felt dry. She wasn’t looking at Ariadne, wasn’t looking at the hunter. She looked at her own hands, at those weapons of mass destruction she’d never used quite like this before. “I — I need to go. I have to… I’m sorry.” It was all she could manage as she turned, running as fast as she could towards her cave and somehow both longing for Aria to follow and praying that she wouldn’t. 

#ariadnewhitlock #ariadne: the eruption of mount vesuvius #wickedswriting

[clefclefairy]

for that ask game 🔥 gimme your absolute pettiest pokemon opinion(s) i'm talking that shit that no one else has even thought about yet it Compels you 🔥

okay here goes. one of the broadest hot takes i have is: there IS no pokemon fandom, in a singular, unified sense. this is literally the most sprawling multimedia franchise conglomerate on the planet earth. i can literally spend tens of hours explaining glitch pokemon but if you ask me the basic rules of the TCG i will throw up and cry. I have played and finished literal dozens of Pokemon romhacks that have their own separate fandoms that will never be touched by 90% of the pokemon fanbase and that STILL gives them an audience of HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE. i havent played pokemon ranger for more than fifteen minutes. i can tell you about ADV OU and RBY OU and weather wars and aldarons proposal and etc etc etc but i only play VGC sparingly. pokemon masters is an entire separate continuity of lore that i refuse to touch bc i can't do gacha for my own sanity. i do still need to watch some story cutscenes, though. Pokemon collosseum and gale of darkness were incredibly important to the era of fandom i flourished as a BNF in; now they are like ancient, weathered scrolls in a language modern players do not speak.

a horrifying amount of 20 year olds only started during the DS era of games. there's an entire spate of time that, to me, is so crucial to my experience and embrace of pokemon that literally millions of people did not and can not experience in the same way. What does pokemon feel like to them? It can't feel the same way that it does to me. maybe that's true of everything. there are literal millions of pokemon go players who haven't touched a mainline game in 20 years or more. to say nothing of its own hideous vile wretched PVP meta. there are people who consider themselves pokemon fans and can only recognize like 500 of them. max. and yet they are pokemon fans, right? they enjoy the series? because after a certain point what can you ask of people? To be in this fandom is to grab at a few of Arceus' thousand arms and shape your universe therein. how can I even begin to understand this as a fandom when it's just this part of my life and has been almost since I was born? What about people who play Mystery Dungeon? What about Pokemon Conquest?

Also people were and are super fucking weird about Kieran, holy shit. This is a slightly less underdiscussed point but I was genuinely stunned by the amount of people calling him an incel or comparing him to a school shooter because, as related to my point above, i don't really participate in broader "pokemon fandom" because how can you? girl he is a 15 year old with an anxiety disorder and you stole his horse girl movie plot right out from underneath him. I think he's allowed to be a bit of a bitch about it! It is also really annoying that a satisfying conclusion to that plot was and is impossible because it would break away from one of Pokemon's core, integral mechanics, which is that Everything Important Is Yours. Is that mechanic as a core element worth discussing? I'd say so. Not even necessarily getting rid of, just reckoning with how it is going to inevitably leave certain plots frustrated because like. By all rights Kieran should've gotten Terapagos, right? Since we got Ogrepon? Parallels? And it would've felt a little less like I did just steal some kid's sacred relic slash autistic fixation if he also stole mine? And then I stop and think, does this feel that way to the children playing it?

I will never be a child playing Pokemon again. What does that change in perspective keep me from understanding now? What do I know and interpret and learn now from my experience of Pokemon that I couldn't possibly then? is it inevitably lesser? sometimes it feels that way. like the beats of my life are tied less tight to the Pokemon games I played and the Pokemon I cared for when I did. is that a bad thing? probably not. that's just life. but...do I miss it?

doesn't everyone?

#existential breakdown? hot take? we report you decide #pokemon

[kaneydas]

What do you think being close friends with Tetsuo and Kaneda would be like seperately?

below the cut.

Kaneda

• It does depends on what kind of person you are, but in general, being close with Kaneda is a really fucking fun experience. Most of the time, at least.

• He can be kind of clingy. Kaneda hates being alone more than anything, and you’re one of his favorite people to bother, so expect him to be around a lot! He’s constantly trying to convince you to do stupid shit with him, like get high, go to some random traphouse party, go spray paint obscenities behind the school or play somewhat mean spirited pranks on your other mutual friends.

• If you’re willing to go along with his bullshit, you do end up having a great time each and every time. He loves you because of how you match his chaotic energy. You guys definitely almost get arrested at least once or twice a week. Everyone kind of knows that whenever they see the two of you together you’re most definitely plotting to do something stupid.

• However, if you’re not really the crazy type, he’ll definitely still try to get you to do things like that with him, and you might get roped into it anyhow. Don’t tell anyone, but he really appreciates how level-headed you are compared to him. You balance him out and keep him in check. In return, he’ll attempt to indulge in your kind of activities which are probably way more chill than his own.

• Hanging out at fast food places past midnight is like a daily occurrence. I feel like he makes you pay for him every time, and he always promises to pay you back but literally never does. He’s the reason you have no fucking money.

• I feel like he always has some tea on people? Kaneda is pretty social and somewhat popular due to the Capsules, so he knows a lot of people. He’s always telling you about who got arrested last week, and who cheated on who. You always tell him he’s not one to talk and he always tries to punch you. It’s really funny.

• If you’re a part of the Capsules, he absolutely loves racing you. You two always make bets like ’whoever gets there last has to buy the winner lunch’ and stuff like that. He’ll beg you all the time, but he gets really grumpy whenever he loses so you probably end up buying him lunch anyway LMAO.

• If you’re not a part of the Capsules, he always wants to take you on little joy-rides. I think he would even try to teach you how to ride a motorcycle for the fun of it (if you don’t already know how to do it).

• He’s very ride-or-die with you, I think. A very good friend to have when you’re in some shit because he’ll always defend you even if you were 100% in the wrong.

Tetsuo

• He’s not a bad friend to have at all, I think. Again, it may depend on what type of person you are but in general being close with Tetsuo is less of a rollercoaster than being close with Kaneda is.

• He’s a very good listener and he appreciates someone who will listen to him in return. He likes someone who won’t judge him, or make fun of him for feeling a certain way and if you don’t, he’ll offer you the same thing back. You can tell him anything. He’s very loyal if that loyalty is returned to him.

• He’s pretty introverted, so he likes hanging out with you at home a lot, like watching movies or playing video games. Never let him choose the movie that you’re gonna watch, because he always chooses the most out of pocket, disturbing shit out there and doesn’t tell you just so that he can see your reaction. He thinks it’s really funny.

• He’s a hater at heart, and therefore the best person to talk shit with. Will hate on literally everyone with you. You thought Kaneda liked to gossip? Tetsuo is a hundred times worse.

• His friendship with you gives very much ’I hate everyone but you’ trope energy.

• Again, very supportive of you, even though he’s kind of awkward when it comes to expressing it. Also very defensive, and if anyone talks badly about you in his presence he’ll go to war. Expects you to do the same.

• He can be kind of high maintenance as a close friend. He gets jealous pretty easily, and gets into his own head whenever he sees you hanging out with anyone else and having a good time. He can be kind of rude and snappy whenever he’s in this kind of mood, but if you know him well enough you understand that he doesn’t mean it. Just make some plans with him to watch his favorite movie or show tomorrow night and he should be all good.

• If you’re interested in motorcycles, he would like it if you helped him whenever he has to fix up his bike. Or just sat next to him while he’s doing it for company.

#this is platonic #tetsuo shima x reader #kaneda shotaro x reader #akira 1988 x reader #headcanons #kaneda x reader #akira 1988 #asks #tetsuo x reader

[ladyfogg]

Who Wants to be Lonely - 2/10

Who Wants to be Lonely – 2/10

Fic Summary: After the ground splits and sends you hurtling into the Upside Down, you come face-to-face with the notorious, and injured, Eddie Munson. Lost and hunted by otherworldly creatures, the two of you have no choice but to stick together if you’re going to find your way home. Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Female Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Language, Violence, Angst, Blood/Slight Gore, Season Finale Spoilers

Fic Song: Who Wants to be Lonely by Kiss. Full fic playlist on Spotify.

A/N: Ahhh! Thank you so much for all the notes and responses to part one! It makes my heart so happy every time I get a message or notification.

You react without thinking. 

The second Eddie slumps over, you’re by his side, catching him before his head hits the ground. “Hey! Hey, don’t leave me in this hell hole alone! Hey! I need you to tell me how to get out of here!”

He doesn’t move.

God, there is so much blood. You have to figure out a way to stop the bleeding. He can’t die. For one, there is no way you’re going to sit there and watch someone pass away. And two, he’s armed and knew where to run. Clearly, he knows this place. You lay him flat on his back, checking his pulse in the process. It’s slow but it’s still there. His shirt is ripped to shit and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. You carefully peel the bloody fabric away to reveal multiple deep gashes in his stomach and sides. Familiar to the ones on your shoulder. Except his are worse, deeper, and…are those bite marks?

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Maybe you have something in your bag. Pulling it off your back, you tear the pack open and start throwing things out left and right. Your sandwich, a water bottle, some beers, and…NAPKINS. Yeah, as if a few napkins are going to stop all that blood. You also find your spare uniform shirt bundled up at the bottom. It’ll have to do. First, you press down on the wounds with as many napkins as you have, hoping they’ll at least slow the bleeding. Next, you grab a corner of the shirt and pull, trying to tear it in half. It doesn’t work. What the fuck? How do they make it look so easy in movies and on TV?

Picking up Eddie’s spear, you use it to slice the shirt enough for you to yank it apart the rest of the way. You also tear off his shirt since the fabric is torn to shreds anyway and would make much better bandages. That’s easier and you don’t even have to take his jacket off to do it.

You try your best to wrap his torso where he’s bleeding the most, tying it as tight as you possibly can. You’re no expert, but when all is said and done, he doesn’t look like he’s leaking blood anymore. But he needs to recover. He’s probably lost a lot and you doubt there’s a hospital in this place. If there is, no way in hell do you want to see what it looks like. Now that Eddie’s taken care of, you need to handle your own wounds. Not only is your shoulder killing you, but you have huge scrapes and cuts all over your arms and your feet are throbbing. Damn you wish you had shoes.

Carefully, you take off your socks which are coated in grime and gore. Turning them inside out, you use the less gross side (but still not great) to carefully clean the blood around your scratches. You have nothing to cover them so they’ll have to stay as-is for now. Without any options, you put the socks back on. A thin barrier is better than no barrier at all.

Eddie’s breathing is shallow but his pulse is a little better than it was before. You have to wake him though, you two can’t stay here. Who knows when those things will come back?

Leaning over him, you call his name a few times. Up close, he’s a hell of a lot more attractive than you realized. Although, in the back of your mind, you’re still not one-hundred percent convinced he isn’t a murderer. However, you doubt a bloodthirsty murderer would have saved your life. It’s honestly a weird juxtaposition: attractive but also maybe a killer?

Nope, can’t think like that. He said he didn’t do it and you need to trust him, at least long enough for you to escape.

“Eddie? Eddie, can you hear me?” He doesn’t wake up to your calls, so you try something else. You start to slap his cheek. “Hey! Hey, Eddie! You gotta get up, man.”

He groans and swats at your hand. “Stop hitting me.”

Your body sags with relief. “Thank god, you’re alive.”

“And if I wasn’t, you’d feel really bad about slapping around a corpse.” Eddie slowly opens his eyes and looks up at you. It takes him a second to focus on your face. “Hey.”

“So eloquent. Come on, you need to sit up.”

He groans again and with your help, you manage to prop him against the cave wall. Looking down at himself, he gently touches the bandages. “You fixed me up.”

“I tried. Hopefully, it makes a difference.”

“Thanks. Wait, did you rip my shirt off?”

“There wasn’t much left of it. I did what I could to stop the bleeding but we need to get you somewhere safe with actual medical supplies.”

“That’s not going to happen. Don’t know if you noticed, sweetheart, but we’re not exactly in Hawkins anymore.”

“Where are we then?”

“My friends call it the Upside Down. Me, I call it hell.”

“Friends? You have friends here?”

“Had friends here,” Eddie corrects. “I’m assuming they managed to get out. At least I hope they did. Judging by the state of everything around us I have a feeling we failed.”

“Failed what?”

“Long story.” Eddie picks up his spear and uses it as a walking stick, slowly getting to his feet. At least, he tries.

“Here, let me help.” You put his arm around your shoulders and help him up. When he sways dangerously, you place a hand on his chest to steady him. “Whoa, easy.”

Eddie’s eyes lock on yours before straying to your hand. “Couldn’t wait to touch the goods again, could you?” he teases with a grin.

Rolling your eyes, you duck out from under his arm, letting him use the wall for support. “Oh yeah. Trapped in another dimension and the first thing I thought was, ‘Damn, look at that pale dying man. Let me get a piece of that.’.”

Eddie’s laugh is cut short when the pain in his side flares up. “What’s your name?” You tell him your first and last name and his eyes narrow. “Wait, wait, I know you. We used to have chemistry together right?”

Now that you think about it, you realize that he’s right. You’d been so happy to be out of high school you’ve pretty much blocked all the memories. “Oh, yeah, we did have a class. But I don’t think it was chemistry. I think it was English.”

“You sure we didn’t have chemistry?”

It takes you a second. “Oh, very funny, Munson. Haha.”

As you bend down and start to put stuff back into your bag, Eddie stops you. “Wait, is that water?”

“Oh, yeah. Shit, you should have some. Here.” You hand him the water bottle and he uncaps it, chugging half of it in one go before you stop him. “I said ‘some’! Easy, we should ration it. I don’t know where else we’re going to get fresh water around here.”

He stops himself from finishing all of it and hands it back to you. In exchange, you break off half your sandwich. “You should probably eat this too. It’ll keep your strength up.”

He barely manages to get a thank you out before he’s devouring it. “This is the first real food I’ve had in days,” he says, eyes closed like he’s eating the most delicious meal of his life.

“Days? How long have you been in here?”

“Only a few hours but before that was the whole ‘being on the run’ thing, remember?”

“Oh yeah. Wait, so if you didn’t do the killings, who did?”

Eddie sighs and motions to the world around you. “Same guy who just tore open Hawkins so he could try to get through. Like I said, it’s a long story and you were right earlier, we need to keep moving.”

“What if those bat-things come back?”

“They will eventually. If we move now, we can put some distance between us. And be careful with the vines, it’s like a hive-mind or something. Everything in this place is connected.”

Good to know. “Where are we going to go?”

Eddie motions for you to pick up his shield before carefully walking towards the mouth of the cave. Even though all around you there are jagged walls, now that you look, you realize that some of them are moving, floating through the air on their own. He waits for one of them to drift by and then he points towards the horizon. When you look, you can see a bright red glow seemingly jutting out of the ground. It’s the only source of bright light you’ve seen so far in this place. It fills you with hope, for about half a second. Because now that you’ve had a proper chance to look, you realize how vast this place is.

“See that over there? I’m pretty sure that’s where these doorways connected, meaning, in theory, it’s the spot that’s weakest between the Upside Down and Hawkins. I think it’s our best bet at getting home.”

“That’s really far away though.”

Eddie sighs. “Yeah, I know. But we can’t go back the way I came in. I already tried and the whole trailer park got sucked in, blocking any real way of getting out. And I’m guessing the way you came in probably wouldn’t work either.”

“I fell through the floor in a bathtub that then flipped over and landed on top of me.”

“Ah, yes, a tale as old as time.” He sways again and you instinctively reach for him. When he goes to put his hand on your shoulder, he notices your cuts and winces. “Shit, I didn’t realize they got you.”

“It’s fine. Nothing like what they did to you. It’s mostly stopped bleeding already.” You examine the cut and suddenly your heart rate spikes. “Shit, we aren’t going to turn into weird creatures or vampires or something, are we?”

“I don’t think so. Harrington got bit and he seemed fine last I knew.”

“Harrington? Like Steve Harrington? He was here?”

“Yup, Mr. Popular himself.”

You have this mental image of the guy in his Scoops uniform running around the Upside Down and it’s hard not to be amused at the idea. A screech in the distance has both of you flinching. Eddie immediately puts his spear up and his body in front of yours. But after a moment, whatever it is moves on and things are quiet again.

“Alright, we really need to go. This hiding spot will only last for so long,” Eddie says.

“You can barely walk. Honestly, I have no idea how you were able to help me up.”

“Pure adrenaline. Also, I wasn’t going to just let you die.”

“Appreciate it.” You adjust your backpack on your shoulders and give the shield, which you now realize is the top of a garbage can with nails pounded into it, a few swings. “You want me to hold onto this?”

“Yeah. Stick close though.”

“Afraid the bats are going to carry me away?”

“No. I need you to catch me if I faint again.”

Together, you two slowly step out of the cave, Eddie in the lead. He holds you back with one hand, limping out a ways to check that the close is clear. Once he deems it is, he waves you forward. Your socks really do nothing when walking over sharp rocks. You try to be careful where you step but it doesn’t help. It’s hard not to bite back a gasp when you step on a particularly pointy one.

Eddie slows down so you’re walking side by side now. “You alright?” You’re not expecting his voice to be so low. His hot breath ghosts across your ear and it sends a shudder through you.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “You?”

“Just peachy.”

Not all the bats are gone. Some are still feasting on bodies they found, but they are so distracted, that they don’t notice you two sneaking by. Once out of the labyrinth, you find yourselves on the edge of a small cliff. Neither one of you is in any state to be climbing down and Eddie swears when he sees it.

“Shit. I was afraid of this. As soon as the gates were open they fucked up the whole terrain. Most of this was flat before,” he says, still trying to keep his voice low to not attract the attention of anything nearby. “We’re going to have to go around.”

“Eddie, that’s a hell of a lot further away than it looked before.”

Now that you have a clearer vision of where you’re headed, one thing is becoming very certain. It’s going to take days to get there on foot, especially when one of you isn’t wearing shoes and the other is severely injured.

“We don’t have a choice,” Eddie says. “It’s the only consistent thing I’ve seen that even remotely resembles the gateway I came in. Besides, those bats aren’t the only things in this place we need to worry about. The further out we go, the more chance we have of running into something else. I would suggest the forest but…”

He motions around and you can see upended trees in the distance, interconnected like some dark bramble.

“But aren’t these things going to be attracted to that light? And…” You look behind you at the labyrinth graveyard you just navigated through. Chances are those aren’t the only bodies. “the food?”

Eddie gives you a grim look. “It’s a no-win situation, sweetheart. Come on,” he motions to the left, which slopes down a little more than the other direction does. “This way looks easier.” He glances back and that’s when he notices your socks. “Jesus H. Christ, what happened to your shoes?”

“I wasn’t wearing them when the world decided to open up and swallow me.”

Eddie looks around before spotting another collection of bodies. He extends his hand for you to take and starts to help you down the incline. “Over here. Let’s see if any of them are close to your size.”

“Oh god, taking shoes off a dead person? That sounds wrong.”

“Do you want to keep walking barefoot?”

No. No, you don’t. It’s not like there’s a shoe store nearby you can pop into for another pair. “Fine, let’s try and do it as respectfully as possible, okay?”

“Hey, I’m not doing it. You’re the one who needs shoes.”

Together you take your time going over to the pile. It tugs at your heart. All these people had the same thing happen to them that happened to you and yet somehow you survived. You try not to think about it. It’ll just make you upset and right now your main focus should be survival. Eddie keeps watch as you gingerly check to see if any of the shoes will fit. You find a pair close to your size, apologizing quietly to the person as you take them.

They’re a little big but they’ll do. Once they’re on, Eddie nods and silently motions up ahead. There looks to be another cluster of building parts that you can use for cover.  Eyes on the sky, you and Eddie walk back to back, with him leading the way.

“How are you holding up?” you ask quietly after a few minutes of silence.

“Not great.”

You were afraid he’d say that. Being so close together, you can practically feel the strain he’s putting his body under. Each step is slower and slower, and by the time you find cover again, his shaking is back.

“Damn it,” he sighs as he lowers himself to sit. A part of a metal structure was stuck in the ground, the top half bent over to make a lean-to. “I don’t know how much further I can go.”

“Okay, well, we’ll sit here and rest a minute,” you say, taking the spot next to him. He’s sweating and you reach over to feel his forehead.

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking up at your hand.

“Checking to make sure you don’t have a fever.”

“Why?”

“Because a fever usually means an infection.” At his questioning look, you add, “I was sick a lot as a kid.”

He feels clammy but not overly warm which is a relief. After a moment of silence, he says, “I’m slowing you down.”

“I’m not in a hurry.”

Eddie sighs and takes his bandana off, using his hand to ruffle his hair. “I really thought I was a goner. I thought I could buy my friends more time to stop all of this. Apparently, it was all for nothing.”

You look around and are once again struck by the vastness of a world you never knew existed. You’re not sure how many friends he’s talking about, but the fact that they managed to do anything at all is a feat unto itself.

“Did you do everything you could?” you ask him.

Eddie reties his bandana while he looks at you. “I’d like to think so.”

You shrug. “Then rest easy knowing you did your best. It sounds like you sacrificed yourself for your friends. Or at least were prepared to. And if they’re not here, then they probably got to safety. Imagine the looks on their faces when you stroll out with your badass spear and horribly mangled torso.”

That draws a laugh out of Eddie. It’s quiet but it still counts. He gives you a wide smile, nudging you with his shoulder. “Thanks. Also was it my imagination or did you have beer in your bag?”

“I do. If you walk a little more, I might even give you one.”

“Bribery. I like it. Help me up.”

That’s how you two move for the next hour or so. Together. One step in front of the other. Eddie starts leaning on you more and more for support, trying not to show that he’s suffering. But he’s so weak. You try to give him the rest of your sandwich, hoping food will help, but he doesn’t take it.

“Save it. You’ll need it.”

He’s right. Nothing around you even looks remotely edible.

You’re making progress but it’s slow going and it’s becoming increasingly clear you’ll need to find somewhere safe to hide out for a longer stretch of time. Eddie can’t keep going like this.

During one of your breaks, you take the time to study the area closely. “You said this place should be an exact copy of Hawkins, right?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, that’s what I was told. And that’s what it seemed like before the gateways started meshing everything together.”

“If that’s true, then I know somewhere we can go.”

“Where?”

“My parents’ house isn’t far from here,” you say, recognizing some of the landmarks that haven’t been destroyed. “It might be a bit of a walk but we can hunker down there for a little while, gather our strength.”

“How do you know if it’s still standing?”

“The house might not be, but the basement definitely is. At least, I hope it is.”

“What do you mean?”

“My dad built it. He’s super paranoid, one of those preppers who think the world is going to end. He built the basement as a bunker. It’s one of the reasons I had my room down there. Couldn’t hear my parents arguing.”

“How long ago was it built?”

“Oh, years ago. Pretty sure before I was born.”

Eddie looks hopeful. “Good, that’s good. It’ll definitely be here. A good plan. That’ll work.” He gets up, determined now that there’s a more attainable goal in mind. “Which direction?”

“That’s the bad news…”

“What do you mean that’s the bad news? You’re always supposed to lead with the bad news first!”

“Fine, then it’s not bad news. It’s slightly inconvenient news.” You point in the direction of your childhood home, which is not quite the opposite of where you’re headed but definitely a detour. “It’s that way.”

“Fuck.” Eddie bites his lip while he thinks. You try not to stare. “Okay, well, if it means a safe place to stay then, I say we go for it.”

“I know for a fact he has weapons stashed. That alone is worth it.”

“Shit, you’re right. Okay, come on.”

Automatically, you extend your hand for him to take. He does without hesitation, holding tight as you move forward. While he was leading before, you’re leading now, having a better idea of where you’re going.

After a while, Eddie’s lagging is getting worse. He’s not doing well. You’re just about to suggest another break when overhead you hear it, the familiar shrieking that nearly broke your eardrums when you first arrived.

“Fuck, they’re back!” you say, looking up. You can see a few of them in the distance, headed your way.

Eddie is pressed against you, his body trembling with the effort to remain standing. “There are too many of them. We have to split up to split their numbers.”

“No! You can barely move!”

“I’ll be fine. Here, give me the shield, you take the spear,” he says, switching with you. “You go that way, I’ll run the opposite. We’ll loop around and meet in the middle under those walls.”

More screeching and you can see the dark-winged beasts drawing closer. The walls Eddie’s talking about look like a barricade that formed when several buildings from Hawkins collided and landed here.

“Eddie…” You can bring yourself to let his hand go. You’re terrified beyond belief.

“Hey, look at me,” he says, cupping the back of your neck and bringing your forehead to his. “You can do this. When I say go, you run as fast as you can. Don’t look back, only forward. I swear I’ll meet you on the other side. Okay?”

Nodding, and knowing you can’t just keep standing there, you take a deep breath. “Be careful. Don’t try to be a hero.”

He gives you a lopsided grin, taking a few steps back. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” The bats squeal. You’re out of time. “GO!”

Your feet take off. It’s much easier to run with boots and without even glancing back at your pursuers, you charge ahead. Their screams rattle your bones and make your hair stand on end, but the adrenaline is pumping. Your hand grips the spear, ready to swing at the first sign of an attack.

The path isn’t straight. You have to bob and weave, jumping over small craters with more grace than you’ve ever done in your entire life.

It takes you no time to reach the barricade of buildings, but it’s only then that you realize what’s going on. There is no loop around. The barricade is a dead-end, tucked together to form another cavern like the one Eddie used to save you. Not only that, you’re not being chased.

You never were.

Your heart slams against your ribcage and you spin around, wildly searching the skies. The bats are moving but in the opposite of your direction. From this distance, you see a lone figure dressed in black, limping and waving a makeshift shield.

They’re all chasing him. Not as big a group as before but still a good ten to fifteen of them, pursuing him with the intent to kill and consume. Just like he knew they would.

“Save it. You’ll need it.”

The sandwich, your only food. He said you’ll need it. Not we’ll need it.

“That son of a bitch.”

He's sacrificing himself for you, giving you time to get somewhere safe. Shit, no wonder he gave you the spear. No. Not going to happen.

He saved your life, now it’s time to save his. Without second-guessing what is probably a stupid decision, you haul your ass back the way you came.

“Fuck you, Munson. You’re not giving up that easy.”

Taglist

(Some of the tags wouldn’t work and I’m not sure why other than, you know, it’s Tumblr)

@thirddeadlysin @imagine-all-the-imagines @ladymunson @daddychicka  @nerdboylover​ @witchymoonbabe @fangirling-4-ever​ @sadbitchfangirl @endurexxsurvive @justtryingtobecreative @toobsessedsstuff @sweetpeapod @perlaluna  @kaiscumsock @alanangels @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #strangerthings

[dyns33]

The Smile

Another Nathan Bateman story, because I love this annoying man. 

It was difficult to explain what was the nature of the relationship that existed between Y/N and Nathan.

At the beginning, she had been hired to take care of him after the attempted murder of which he had been the victim, by one of his robots ("Android. Ava was an android endowed with artificial intelligence, I already told you a hundred times, are you doing it on purpose or are you stupid ?").

Being both secretary and nurse to such a proud, stubborn, boorish and annoying man hadn't been easy, and several times Y/N had been tempted to quit. Maybe she was paid very well, but nothing justified such treatment and she had more honour than that.

But she had come to understand that it was a sort of test, which Bateman had already did to the five other poor souls who had been in her place before, and since she had as much honour as pride, she had decided to not give in.

This had seemed to impress him. After a few weeks, Nathan had calmed down a bit, hovering around her in silence like a curious animal, studying her from afar, trying to understand her, first to figure out how to tease her or push her away, then simply to get to know her.

Despite everything he could claim, the man must have felt quite alone, in his big house lost in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by machines, being richer and more intelligent than most people who therefore did not understand him at all, while wanting to take advantage of his fortune and notoriety.

Y/N was not like that.

She just wanted to do her job well, while being a little intrigued by Nathan. Without being able to understand everything, she was still trying to find out what he was doing exactly, and he seemed to appreciate her attempts at discussion. He loved being the center of attention and seeing her eyes full of surprise and admiration when he told her that he was going to revolutionize the world with new technologies.

Sleeping together was not planned. It was probably discouraged by the contract, maybe even prohibited in a small clause at the bottom of the page.

But they were both feeling lonely after several months, they had been drinking a little, and they were starting to get along quite well.

You couldn't talk about love though. At least not with Nathan Bateman, who was probably the less sentimental man on earth.

There were no tender words, no hugs, no kisses. Sometimes gifts, which benefited them both, like clothes or perfume, or something Y/N had talked about, making Nathan think it was a request. He was a very good lover, who paid attention to her pleasure, but he always arrived in the room without saying anything, he did what he had to do and he went back to work as if nothing had happened.

This went on for a while, until his demeanour suddenly changed.

One morning, Y/N found him preparing breakfast, listening to music. Seeing her, he smiled.

It was a kind, gentle smile. A smile she had never seen on his face and never thought she would see. Nathan didn't smile often.

It was weird. This whole situation was weird.

           "Hello, sleepy head. Pancakes ?"

           "Uh... Yes, thank you."

           "What do you want to do today ?"

           "I don't know. I have to check emails, respond to investors, make sure..."

           "You're working too much." he said, coming to sit next to her, stroking her cheek, still smiling. "You need to rest a bit. We could watch a movie. Walk in the forest. Talk about science, philosophy, or whatever. We'll do what you want. It's your day."

           "... Nathan, are you okay ? Did you hit your head ? Are you messing with me ? I know it's not my birthday, or yours, or a special day, so what ? Wait, you know it's not my birthday, right ? "

           "I don't understand what you're talking about. I just want to please you."

Another weird thing. Not normal at all.

A smiling Nathan Bateman who cared about her, that had to be hiding something.

Y/N remained on her guard for the rest of the day, which didn't seem to bother him, his smile never disappearing from his face.

In the evening, Y/N found Nathan on the sofa, drinking a beer and staring into the distance, looking tired and serious. He already seemed more normal. He didn't look at her when she passed by him, going into the kitchen to get a drink, still not moving when she came to sit next to him.

           "How do you know ?"

           "How do I know what ?"

           "Hmm. So you don't know per se. You suspect. Interesting."

           "Nathan, what are you talking about ?"

           "Ignore that. I need more data." he declared while finishing his beer before jumping on his feet to go back to lock himself in his lab.

The rest of the week, the funny comedy continued.

Sometimes Nathan was normal, behaving like the selfish, annoying genius that he was, sometimes he got weird, with his kind smile and gentle attentions. Y/N didn't really know what to think about it, even less after what he had said. An idea briefly crossed her mind but she didn't dare believe it. Nathan Bateman was a little crazy, and he didn't care about anything, but after what had happened to him, he had to set some limits.

As she was about to fall asleep, Y/N heard her bedroom door open. She felt the bed sag as someone lay beside her, and she smelled the familiar smell of alcohol.

           "... How do you know ?" Nathan asked again, staring at the ceiling.

           "I really don't know what you're talking about."

           "You're not stupid, otherwise I would have fired you a long time ago. You know."

           "… You didn't do that, did you ? Nathan, you didn't… Have you forgotten what happened last time ?"

           "I haven't forgotten, doll. I have two pretty scars to constantly remind me of my mistakes. But Aiden is different."

           "Aiden ?"

           "I thought 'Adam' was a bit too cliché. Like Ava. And he's very different. He's not really an AI, I control most of his personality, to make sure he doesn't go berserk on me. He's off when I don't need him, so he doesn't feel locked in... Unless he considers himself locked in his shell. And most importantly, he's based on me. "

           "It's probably the worst."

           "It's the best. Imagine, I don't want to go on an important meeting that I can't cancel, I have to do boring interviews, people wonder if I'm dead because nobody saw for several months. I send Aiden, and I can continue to work. He is perfect. Well, almost perfect. How do you know it's not me ?"

Of course Nathan had wanted to test his creation before sending it out into the world, as he had tested Ava with Caleb, and he had been disappointed to see that Y/N had almost immediately sensed something was wrong.

For hours he had made changes, trying to make Aiden less caring. No doubt he wasn't as caring, he had wanted to use the kindness as a diversion.

But even when Aiden behaved almost completely like his creator, his smile remained soft. Too soft. And this detail, Nathan hadn't noticed. He didn't often see himself smiling. Almost never if he was honest, when it wasn't forced.

So obviously, he had used databases for the smile, and the result was not good.

This smile let Y/N know who was who.

She could have told him that it didn't matter, because it was probably only her in the world who was able to see the difference. But on the one hand she found it a little amusing to annoy him, knowing something that the great Nathan Bateman didn't, and above all she didn't really want him to make changes and not be able to tell when she was talking to a robot anymore.

He risked using this to never be with her again when it didn't suit him, sending his doppelganger instead.

Nathan wasn't exactly thrilled that Y/N didn't tell him how she always knew when she was interacting with Aiden.

For several more days he harassed her with questions, following her in the house and outside, everywhere. It was quite annoying. But he didn't scream, he didn't touch her either, he behaved like a child whose toy had been taken and who was demanding it.

Eventually he got bored, considering he was smart enough to guess on his own. Of course, he didn't guess, and Y/N continued to know when she was talking with a robot.

It was rather sad, because Nathan was spending less and less time with her, too busy testing his creation.

Aiden was nice. If he had been human, and he hadn't looked so much like his creator, maybe Y/N could have fallen for him. That smile was really charming.

But she missed Nathan's smile. That mocking little smile, accompanied by a caustic snort, which disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, because it was probably too overrated for a genius to smile for more than ten seconds. To really smile. He always looked embarrassed or ashamed after his smiles, which Y/N ​​loved.

To be able to see them again, but without giving Nathan what he wanted, she purposely made a mistake once. To please him. So he can use his stupid machine. He would know, he was probably looking at the recorded images through the eyes of his creation, if he was not observing them with the cameras.

In the evening, he came to her bed again, as always reeking of alcohol. Y/N would have thought that he would be happy, that he was celebrating his big achievement and that he wanted to dance or fuck. But no, Nathan was still morose.

           "You pretended."

           "Pretended what ?" she asked innocently.

           "Don't play dumb. You pretended to be wrong. Why ? It's because you're afraid that I'll fix him, and you won't know who is who ? Why does it matter ? Aiden is much better than me anyway. You should prefer him. I don't understand why you don't prefer him. I made him softer and more caring. But not too much, you surprisingly got attached to the asshole than I am, he mustn't be too perfect. Or do you want him to be ? I can make him even better. He's a fucking romantic. He knows you perfectly well.Your date of birth, your favourite dish, your underwear's size... Why are you fucking smiling like that ?"

Y/N said nothing, continuing to stare at him with bright eyes.

           "I don't like you smiling like that, stop right now."

           "How does he know all this ?"

           "What ?"

           "He knows all this because you connected him to my data, or... Or did you enter the data yourself ?"

           "What difference does it make ?" he muttered, running his hand over his face, suddenly refusing to look at her.

           "A lot. Nathan. Do you know my date of birth ?"

           "Of course I know your fucking birthday. Stop smiling, it looks like you're laughing at me."

           "It's okay if you're not romantic, or caring, or present because of your job. I still prefer you."

           "Bullshit. Women hate being ignored."

           "People hate being ignored."

Nathan rolled his eyes, which made Y/N smile even more, asked him if he wanted her to ignore him, to spend all his time with Aiden.

           "... I forbid you to do that."

           "Yet you created it for this."

           "No. It's for the others. That way I'll have more time to work and... For free time. Eventually."

           "Eventually."

           "Yeah. Eventually. If I have time. And if you're not too annoying."

           "I'll be as annoying as you."

Then he smiled. His little smirk, accompanied by his mocking breath, and when he finally turned to her, Y/N wanted to kiss him.

           "I can tell you what the mistake is, although I will always be the only one in the world to see it."

           "That can't be my dick size, I checked."

           "I haven't seen Aiden naked. Do you promise me you won't use him to trick me if I tell you ?"

           "I don't want to trick you." Nathan muttered, stroking her cheek. "Don't tell me. I'll test him outside later. Or I'll destroy hum and keep telling the world to leave me alone by email."

The next day, the robot was deprogrammed and destroyed. Maybe it was to reassure Y/N, or because Nathan didn't want to risk having another machine uprising. He claimed that despite all his precautions, his double had started to act independently, visibly becoming attached to Y/N, and he hadn't liked that.

Upon learning that he was only going to serve with others and that he would no longer be allowed to approach her, Aiden could have attempted to stab Nathan. And Nathan didn't really want to be stabbed again.

           "Or else I'm lying, I'm Aiden, I stabbed the real Nathan hid the body and I want to keep you to myself forever." he joked with his small smile, before staring at her seriously. "You still know that it's me. There, now, you knew with that sentence. How ? No, don't tell me, I'll find out on my own !"

           "I'm sure of it, take your time."

           "Don't make fun of me." he growled as he walked towards his lab.

He opened the door, but stopped, turned around to come and kiss her quickly, muttering words that almost sounded nice, before going to work.

Y/N found it a little weird, but she didn't hate it.

#ex machina #nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman fanfiction #nathan bateman imagine