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darsynia · 4 months ago

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Forgiven (CEO Steve/f!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Since dropping out of school to care for your sister, your daydream has been that a rich, handsome man will save you from drowning in debt. Until then (read: never), you’ll work hard at your new receptionist job and try not to ogle the impossibly hot construction guy working in the foyer…

Words/Warnings: 2,855 | none

As 5/7 of my Ro Roll birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, forGIVEn is a fluffy meet cute between CEO Steve and f!Freader. Gif is by @ashilesun.

Excerpt:

“Something wrong, miss?”

You look up to see Foreman Eye Candy standing beside the desk looking gently concerned. One sandy blonde curl is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and you can see that his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue.

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“All right,” the man says, setting his left hand down on the counter. There’s no ring on his finger. ‘Sir’ Eye Candy (you’re going to hell for all of this) offers a kindly, “Have a good afternoon,” and right at that moment, both of the reception phones ring. There’s no time to process the oddness of what’s just happened, not until you’re back at home and making dinner for your sister.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.

FORGIVEN

“Thank God for the internship last summer!” your sister says (again).

“I do, I do,” you promise, looking at yourself critically in the grubby bathroom mirror. She doesn’t have to know you pick a new deity to mentally ‘thank’ every time. Today it’s Thor, because you need to bring electricity to your first day on the job.

You’re hoping to look professional but approachable for this customer-facing position, and it looks like the months of clothes thrifting before your internship last year are really paying off. Do you wish you could work in your field of choice? Sure, but working in the same company as a receptionist means you have both in-field and company knowledge. Once Jennie is back on her feet, you hope to be back on yours, too.

You step into the kitchen to check that everything is set up for your sister. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come back at lunch?”

“No mother hen-ing, you promised! I’ll be fine, and you’ll need your own lunch!”

Your watch beeps that it’s time to start walking to work, so you slip into your sturdy dress shoes and give the room a final once-over. Jennie’s cooler of food is near the couch, she’s got all of the remotes, and her walker is within reach. You’ve even put a pair of crutches in the umbrella stand and lashed the damned thing to the couch so she can’t knock it over. Her charger is at hand, the blinds are down, and the end table has her morning coffee on a coaster.

“Get out or I’ll start throwing things at you and you’ll be late from having to clean them up!” your sister teases.

“I love when you nag,” you tell her, shutting the door before she can retort.

Star Industries is honestly your dream workplace, even after pausing your mechanical engineering degree to take care of Jennie. After Tony Stark and his company spun it off as a subsidiary, Star really came into its own. The company has an inspiring mission: to ensure safe, affordable prosthetics for the people who really need them. Many customers are war veterans, just like the two men in charge. The COO even has one himself.

You’d filled out your paperwork after hours, so when you walk into the building, it’s a nice surprise to see how the morning light floods the lobby. The atrium of the building is made up of a multi-storey open space lit by tall windows, with the company’s logo laid out in the tile floor right as you come in the doors. The A in the word ‘STAR’ is, of course, a star, but it’s the missing ‘K’ from its parent company that catches the eye. Instead of upright, the K is laid on its ‘back.’ One stick figure’s front leg and another stick figure’s back leg make up the angled lines from the K--and they’re both wearing prosthetics.

The name badge you’re given has a smaller version of the same logo, and you can’t help but hope this isn’t the only time you’ll be representing the company. You fix it to your lapel and sit nervously at the desk beside the woman who will train you. It’s an hour before you come up for air long enough to notice there’s some renovation work going on nearby.

Honestly, ‘notice’ is embarrassingly underselling it.

The windows in the lobby are clearly designed to encourage shafts of sunlight that flood a particular area with a cheerful glow. You’ve managed to look over right when one such beam illuminates a man wearing rough work clothes, his head tipped back to drink out of a water bottle. He’s handsome as hell, with a face like Adonis and powerful muscles straining his sweat-damp t-shirt. The sunlight turns him into a golden statue, and you sure as hell would visit museums more often if the art looked like that!

Your phone rings and you answer promptly, tearing your eyes away from the construction worker just as he smiles at someone. The stammered greeting you offer to the caller could be chalked up to it being your first day, but that isn’t the reason at all.

Your first week on the job is equal parts satisfying and stressful. Satisfying because it turns out you’re a natural at taking zero shit with maximum politeness. Your stress comes from the renovations.

The work isn’t loud, and it’s not like you’re worried about safety or anything. Technically, your job isn’t affected at all… well, not because of your assigned work, that is. No, you’re the one affected, and it’s thanks to the man who seems to be in charge.

After that first day, the tarp that separated their construction from the rest of the lobby had been removed, meaning you could just look over and see him at any point throughout your day.

You’ve been rationing those glimpses for your own sanity.

Despite this, there are still details you’ve noted. One, he’s definitely the foreman. Everyone defers to the guy, but his leadership style seems to rely on trust and respect. Two, he has the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. Paired with his looks, it’s a disastrous combination, especially given Reason Number Three: he’s an utter beast. More than once you’ve seen him moving things with ease that would take multiple other men to lift.

Today is Monday and the men were all at work before you arrive. Their project is taking shape; it appears to be a café with low counters, maybe a wheelchair-friendly gathering space? It would be on brand for the company, and certainly explains why you’ve been brought on as a second receptionist. The usual population in the lobby will certainly go up once it’s completed.

Before you sit down, you take stock of the wide welcome desk. Would anyone notice if you nudged one of the large flower pots to the left to mostly block your view of the café area? You decide to risk it. Foreman Eye Candy is a Distraction with a capital D, and you already love this job.

The morning goes smoothly--but by lunch you’re fairly certain you’ve memorized the pattern on the side of that damned pot, for as often as you’ve looked over at it.

When you come back from your break, the pot is back where it was before.

Your hands shake a little bit as you log back into your computer. Did a cleaning crew come through and adjust it? You’re not brave enough to ask the senior receptionist for fear she’ll question why it was moved in the first place. It’s probably a fluke, you decide.

Without your makeshift barrier, you find yourself looking over at the Foreman way too many times before you’re done for the day, but he’s smiled at least twice in your direction, so that’s something.

On Tuesday morning, you choose discretion as the better part of valor and scoot the pot over to obscure your view again, even taking the time to nudge its closest neighbor a little, to even up the spacing.

After lunch on Tuesday, both pots are moved back, and Eye Candy is smiling. You doubt the two are related.

On Wednesday you bring in one of those Newton’s Cradle desk toys with permission from your coworker at the desk. It’s altruistic, distracting the children when their parents show up to ask questions. Because your area is recessed a bit, you risk setting the item on a little paper sorter to make it level with the visitors’ side. Completely incidentally, that placement blocks some of your view of the café under construction.

You come back from lunch to find the shelf moved to the other side of your computer monitor.

It’s so disconcerting that you stand there staring at it in shock for a long moment, long enough to attract attention.

“Something wrong, miss?”

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.

Chanting ‘it’s Wednesday, that’s called ‘hump day,’ there’s nothing that implies you’ve been thinking impure thoughts, pull it together!’ in your head, you answer something non-committal and continue with dinner.

That night you have a dream that Sir Eye Candy walks over and smiles at you, illuminated by one of those rays of light straight from heaven.

On Thursday you arrive at work to find the pots have all been moved farther back along the decorative part of the receptionist’s desk, much too far to move any of them without notice.

As if he’d been waiting for you to see the change, you make brief eye contact with Sir Eye Candy. He does a little nod of acknowledgment before turning to move the large sign for the café. By himself.

“Am I awake?” you whisper to yourself, unable to look away from how effortlessly he moves under heavy strain.

“Keep staring at the boss like that and the rest of his crew will never let you hear the end of it!” your front desk coworker Marcia jokes.

Your cognitive function flatlines as you try to process the word ‘boss’ while at the same time watching the man in question wipe sweat off of his brow. “It’s obvious he’s the foreman,” you mumble, dropping your phone so you have to look away to pick it up. If the screen cracks, you deserve it.

“Oh, honey, this is his side gig. Pet project. Maybe even a vacation, knowing Rogers,” Marcia chuckles.

The name ‘Rogers’ finally gets through to you, in context to ‘the boss.’ Steve Rogers.

Sir Eye Candy is CEO Eye Candy.

“Wait…”

“There it is!” Your coworker gives you the kind of look only busybody aunts and elder coworkers can pull off. “Word is his gym is closed for a few weeks, so he pulled some strings to move this project up. Nice way to start a new job, yeah?”

You’ve been ogling the CEO. “Should I put in my two weeks’ notice?” you whisper. Dismay doesn’t even cover it. You’re practically mortifie--

“I’d advise your manager not to accept,” a nearby voice says. “If anything, I probably ought to call myself into an HR meeting. I’ve been quite distracted this past week.”

It’s CEO Eye Can-- Rogers. All you can do is mutely look up at him, watching the amused look on his face turn into a stern one.

“Have you been messing with my plant display?”

It’s not at all what you were expecting him to say, and you’re still befuddled by the idea he was distracted by you, so you stammer out an admission that yes, you did move his pots.

The phone rings, and after a subtle gesture from Rogers, Marcia takes the call.

“Sir,” you begin, noting the way his posture straightens on hearing the title. You lick your lips in nervousness, and god, his eyes go straight there. HR would be having kittens.

“Go on?” Rogers’ voice is resonant. Everything about this feels like a rom-com, and you are totally worried you’ll screw it up.

“Forgive me for staring?” you offer. You’d meant to say something less obvious, but it’s too late now.

“Yes, well. I’d like to go over your conduct at a lunch meeting, if, that is, you--” he breaks off, lifts his chin, and clears his throat. “In a half hour.”

“I-- Of course--” You’ve answered too late, he’s already walking away and calling out to the crew. Stunned, you look over at Marcia. She’s grinning, but doesn’t look up, and you decide to take your cues from her.

Fifteen minutes later, the work crew wraps up. You see them file out in your peripheral vision, but if Rogers is going to play the Principal’s Office card, you’re going to play at being an obedient student.

This sends your mind on a complete irresponsible rampage, and you’re still tamping down the mental images when a gentleman in a suit walks up to the front of the desk.

Your welcoming smile is already in place when you lift your head to greet him, but it widens into surprised happiness to see that it’s Rogers. At the very last minute you stop yourself from acting like he’s picking you up for a date, even though you very much hope that’s what this is, HR be damned. Every fairytale has a villain, after all, and villains are made to be thwarted.

“Can I help you, sir?”

The word choice is deliberate.

“You can. Marcia, do you usually cover for lunch?”

“I do.”

“Good. We’ll be prompt,” he says firmly, tapping the flat of his palm on the desk with finality. You take the cue, getting up and slinging your purse over your shoulder, but inwardly your stomach is a riot of sawdust.

Are you reading this wrong? All of your teenage aspirations to be swept off of your feet by a rich, handsome man feel like lead weights at the bottom of your shoes. Steve Rogers’ reputation is sterling, and despite your less-than-angelic daydreams, you don’t want to come across like a gold-digger. Even if you are strapped for cash.

Rogers opens the door for you. The front door. The front door of his business. It’s heady and confusing, even more confusing when a slick silver car pulls up and a valet hands him the keys.

“You look like you either need sunglasses or smelling salts,” he says gently.

“A neck brace,” you quip. “For the whiplash.”

His smile is sheepish as he opens the car door for you. “That’s fair.”

The car is cinematically nice inside, and you suppress the desperate desire to pinch yourself until you wake up as he gets in and adjusts the seat for his height. He doesn’t look over at you, which your adrenaline-drunk mind can’t decide is good or bad.

Then he does, and all you can do is smile back at him.

“A confession: I cribbed some of those lines.” Rogers eases the car out into traffic and lets out a long breath. “From Bu-- a friend of mine. Advice on how to be in charge and ask out a subordinate at the same time.” He stops at a red light and shoots a look over at you. “How’d I do?”

You kind of want that neck brace, but despite the trappings, you’re really enjoying who this man is turning out to be. “That depends. Do you want me to be turned upside down and sideways?”

That earns you a look akin to the one he sent you when you’d called him ‘sir.’ You shiver, and he notices. “I don’t think you want to know what his advice might be on the answer to that question! How about ‘maybe?’”

“Maybe is good,” you manage.

“Glad to hear it. What would you like? Italian? Deli?” Rogers looks over and catches his breath like he’d forgotten his wallet. “An invite to lunch without your employment on the line? I’m sorry about that. I got--” He looks back at the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. “--carried away.”

His candid mix of charm and command are sweeping you completely off your feet, tarnished halo and all. “I don’t think I have time to phone a friend for a better answer, but is ‘maybe’ still good?”

Your sister would walk her ass to the car to smack you if she knew you’d just told the CEO of your new company you’re a ‘maybe’ for a one-on-one ‘maybe’ date with him. You suspect his friend would be facepalming, too.

“Your job isn’t on the line, I promise. I’d never misuse power like that--” He breaks off from his serious tone, looks down at his suit and the fancy car you’re both sitting in, and chuckles. “All evidence to the contrary.”

The whole situation is absurd, unrealistic, completely romantic, and everything you’ve always wanted.

You’re going to wake up any minute now.

Rogers looks over and raises his eyebrows. You realize with embarrassment that he wants you to either tell him where he can stuff his lunch invitation, or where the two of you can go eat.

“I got carried away too,” you rush to say. “Yes to lunch. No maybes in sight.”

“You’re forgiven,” he smiles.

to be continued...

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #fluff #CEO AU #meet cute #captain america x reader #captain america #steve rogers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #captain america x f!reader #humor

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literaryvein-reblogs · 21 days ago

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When Franz Kafka had "Written Nothing"

24 December 1910. It is midnight, but since I have slept very well, that is an excuse only to the extent that by day I would have written nothing. The burning electric light, the silent house, the darkness outside, the last waking moments, they give me the right to write even if it be only the most miserable stuff. And this right I use hurriedly. That’s the person I am.

28 November 1911. Have written nothing for three days.

07 January 1912. If I should now, in the evening, return to my relatives, I shall, since I have written nothing that I could enjoy, not appear stranger, more despicable, more useless to them than I,do to myself.

25 February 1912. I have written nothing for so long because of having arranged an evening for Löwy in the banquet room of the Jewish Town Hall on 18 February, at which I delivered a little introductory lecture on Yiddish. For two weeks I worried for fear that I could not produce the lecture. On the evening before the lecture I suddenly succeeded.

09 March 1914. I have written nothing for a year, nor shall I be able to write anything in the future; in my head there is and remains the one single thought, and I am devoured by it.

03 November 1914. Since August, the fourth day on which I have written nothing. The letters are the cause of it; I ’ll try to write none at all or only very short ones.

20 December 1921. Undeniably, there is a certain joy in being able calmly to write down: ‘Suffocation is inconceivably horrible.’ Of course it is inconceivable that is why I have written nothing down.

And When He "Wrote Nothing"

31 January 1912. Wrote nothing.

01 June 1912. Wrote nothing.

07 June 1912. Bad. Wrote nothing today. Tomorrow no time.

10 August 1912. Wrote nothing. Was in the factory and breathed gas in the engine-room for two hours. The energy of the foreman and the stoker before the engine, which for some undiscoverable reason will not start. Miserable factory.

13 March 1915. Got up at nine o’clock. Didn’t go home for supper, nor to Max’s either, where there was a gathering tonight. Reasons: lack of appetite, fear of getting back late in the evening; but above all the thought that I wrote nothing yesterday, that I keep getting farther and farther from it, and am in danger of losing everything I have laboriously achieved these past six months.

Excerpts from "The diaries of Franz Kafka 1910-1923"

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artificial-transmutations · 6 months ago

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Friday Friendship

Hey there! This one is kind of a spiritual successor to Calling the Plumber - and as such, it is one of the rare gay to straight stories of mine. While I do try to keep it friendly and without any homophobia or hate, feel free not read the story if you don't like g2s!

It was hard to overlook Montgomery and Archibald. Of course, that was always the case. But here, on the dirty construction site of their new home, the expensive silk suits of the couple stood out even more than elsewhere. Yes, the two of them were together - and they made sure everybody knew it. Not only were the two gentlemen standing in a tight hug whenever possible, but their flamboyant and colorful clothing left little doubt about their sexuality.

They were those kind of gays that conservatives were afraid of. Both were old enough to have been alive during the stonewall riots, although only Montgomery was actually there as a teenager. Still, the aged couple embodied everything the gay community prided itself on having achieved during the last decades.

Their house, too, would be a statement. The mansion was the largest construction in the area, and the most expensive one. It was going to be built on a large hill, overlooking the town, and its style was... extravagant. The house was to be built in a modern architectural style, but the two men had insisted that the walls would be entirely covered in rainbow colors, although that was still in the future by now. Surrounding the mansion would be a magnificent garden, a park even.

"My dear, are you satisfied with the construction?" Archibald asked his husband in his lime green suit. Montgomery had dyed his hair in an orange-pink tone today and wore a purple tie to his green suit. It was hardly the first building site he visited, since he had made a fortune in real estate.

Archibald, on the other hand, was a bit more conservatively dressed. His suit was a more subdued shade of beige, although his tie was of a bright sky blue color. He usually didn't dye his hair, and today was no exception: He wore the gray with pride, although he spent a fortune on hair and skin care products. He, too, had a respectable job as a top manager in a logistics company.

"Well, darling, I'm not sure yet." Montgomery replied. "I want it to look great, and the work has been good so far. But frankly, it feels that the workers motivation is somewhat underwhelming."

"I think I know what you mean, my dear." Archibald commented as they walked through the empty shell. "It is barely three in the afternoon on a Friday, and there isn't anyone around anymore. The workers must be out partying already. I can't fault them for that, but it is rather annoying, isn't it?"

"Indeed. It would have been nice if they were a little less lazy, though. The garden is behind schedule, and I believe the electrics are going to be delayed by another month."

"That is quite unfortunate."

Montgomery nodded and they walked a bit in silence. It was true. There was still a lot to do, and it looked like the workers left early for the weekend.

Finally, Archibald sighed.

"I guess I could take a look at the progress the electricians are making. I do know a bit or two about this. Maybe then we can talk to the foreman about their work. It's a pity that we cannot supervise every little thing here, but our jobs demand a lot of our time. If only we had a bit more hands-on control."

"My, what a fabulous idea! I will take a stroll through the garden then, to get a better picture there."

The husbands kissed each other on the lips as they split up and Archibald opened the fuse box. He had indeed done a bit of electrical maintenance in his prime, so he knew that what he saw in the box was nothing less than a mess. He sighed and was about to close the box again, but hesitated. No, he couldn't leave the mess like that. He would just tidy things up a bit, to show those inexperienced workers how it was done.

Carefully, he began to work on the wires, but before long, he felt uncomfortable. The fuse box was located in the bright afternoon sun, and it was just positively hot here. Still, not wanting to leave his work, he slipped out of his jacket and hung it over a nearby wall. He didn't notice that the piece of clothing disappeared once he turned away, nor did he notice that his hands became nimbler as he rearranged the wires.

Montgomery on the other hand found the garden construction even less advanced than he had hoped. Even worse, someone had left a few plants out in the heat. They would surely be dead by the time the construction continued on Monday. Montgomery couldn't let that happen. This garden would be beautiful, and no plant would die under his watch.

He carefully carried the plants to the place they were supposed to be. Of course, he knew - he had planned the park all by himself, so he knew where everything was supposed to go. As he arrived at the shady place, he understood why the plants hadn't been placed yet. The ground was wet and muddy, and there weren't any holes yet. He would need to talk to the foreman about that, but the man was surely already in the weekend as well. There was, however, a shovel nearby. Now, aside from ceremonial groundbreaking, Montgomery had never held a shovel. It wasn't that he didn't understand the concept, but he was just not the type for physical labor.

Well. He looked over his shoulder to his husband, who was apparently still busy looking at the fuse box. It seems like he had some time on his hands, so he might as well. Grimacing, he grabbed the shovel and carefully stepped on the soil, trying not to ruin his expensive shoes or pants. That worked well, for about two steps. But as soon as he tried to break the ground with the shovel, a big clump of wet soil splattered on his lime green silk pants.

Montgomery frowned. Well, that suit was ruined anyway. No reason to stop there. Determined, he pulled the shirt out of his pants and opened his vest. He wasn't going to ruin his custom tailored suit for no reason.

Meanwhile, Archie was getting into his work even more. From time to time, he had to wipe his brow, though, as he was sweating like an animal. His dress shirt was stained with multiple sweat stains already and didn't really *look* like a dress shirt anymore, but more casual. The same could be said for the rest of Archie as well. A certain youth had returned to his face, as he was concentrated on his work. This way, he didn't notice when his hairstyle dissolved into an unkempt mess or when a bit of stubble grew in on his chin. His shirt clung to his body now, drenched in sweat. It had long ceased to be a dress shirt though but had become a plain - although rather filthy - beige t-shirt. His tie was nowhere to be seen.

Due to the wetness, the shirt didn't leave much to imagination regarding his body. Not just his face had rejuvenated, no, his entire body had. He was leaner and his muscles firmer now. Out of the V-neck of his sweaty shirt poked a few golden hairs, and before long, his main hair had turned into a Nordic blonde, as well.

Meanwhile, Monty was digging like crazy. He had to get those plants in the ground, or the foreman would... Wait, what was he thinking?

He stopped for a moment, to scratch his head. Thinking was not his strong point, and Monty knew that. But he had other qualities, that made up for that. When he grabbed the shovel again, to keep digging, he heard a ripping sound that made him stop again. The shoulder of his shirt had ripped. His boss was going to kill him! Although, it appeared somewhat strange to him that he was wearing such a colorful and impractical shirt. Perhaps there weren't any other shirts left?

He looked around and saw only one of the electricians still on the site. He knew the guy, he was friendly enough. He surely wouldn't mind if Monty went shirtless for a bit. With an effort not to damage the clothing even more, he peeled out of the garment. He was only half successful with that, and a few more rips sounded before he had finished taking it off.

Monty looked down at his muscular and hairy torso. The cold air was good, and he wasn't afraid to get dirty.

With every movement of the shovel, his arm muscles tightened, and his frame filled out more. A short beard sprouted on his chin, and his now full earthy brown hair shortened to a more practical cut. It wasn't like he had money for an expensive hairdresser, after all.

Finally, he had the holes ready and wiped his hands on his sturdy pair of work pants. Now, he only had to put the plants in. Despite his impressive physique, Manny was always very careful with the flowers, and he made sure that none of the roots got damaged or that he didn't break the stem.

He looked at his work. Good, that would look great, once the plants grew. Someday, he would have a garden of his own, and a house like that. And a beautiful wife and two, no, three children. But that was still a long way to go, with his poor pay.

Someone behind him cursed and Manny looked back to the electrician.

Chad was still sweating like crazy as he worked the wires. His mates had all gone to the clubs by now and he was stuck here and had to fix the mess he had created. That was only fair, but he wished the foreman wouldn't have noticed until Monday. He had to hurry up, though. He didn't want to spend his Friday night on the site, after all. Perhaps he would even get lucky and find a guy... No, what was he thinking? Working on these fruits' house had made him all confused. No, perhaps he would find a busty bombshell to take home tonight. Chad felt his cock growing hard at the thought, creating an obvious bulge in his work pants. Great, more distraction.

Chad tried to readjust himself, just in time as he sensed the big burly gardener approach. He knew the guy loosely but had forgotten his name already - if he even had known it at all.

"Hey, everything alright with them wires?" the low voice of the brute asked in a friendly tone.

"Yeah, I just need to finish up here... Should be done aaaaany minute now..."

Manny watched Chad connect the last wires. Poor guy. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and he looked like he was really hot and stressed out.

"Cool. It's no fun working late, and on a Friday. Hey, do you want to hit a bar after that? I could go for a cold one."

Chad looked over his shoulder at the bear of a man. Was that guy hitting on him? Na, his face only showed dumb innocence.

He shrugged. "Sure, why not, eh..."

"Name's Manny." Manny said.

"Great. Manny." Chad said and closed the now somewhat better looking fuse box before wiping away his sweat once more.

"I'm Chad."

Manny and Chad left the building site together this Friday afternoon. Neither of them knew that they were going to become best friends over this and many more beers. Manny turned out to be a great wingman for Chad, and Chad even ended up as Manny's best man during his wedding and godfather for his first child. Sometimes the closest friendships are forged in the Friday afternoon sun of a construction site.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #sweat #gay to straight #age reduction

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snuurp · 2 months ago

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introduction to the WORMS IN MY BRAIN jk this is a modern fantasy au for baldurs gate 3 plain text and more info under the cut

intro to the au, forewarning i haven't done much research, and my first playthrough of the game isn't done yet (I AM in act three tho I swear 2/3rds of the three guys r dealt with and so is cazador.) keep in mind i have no idea what i'm doing.

the mindflayer stuff is like. an experimental implant they all dubiously agreed to without all the info. extra enhancements (like the other tadpoles in game) are like drugs, and they appear once weekly at everyone's doors whether they want it or not. initial implant stabilizes Karlach's engine, helps with Astarion's vampire stuff, etc. etc. and the extras just feel good to use, it's addictive.

all of them are in a support group together meant to encourage them to stay clean from the extra tadpoles. time they've spent with the group varies.

there WILL be more detailed posts for them later, i have a lot of thoughts on Karlach and Wyll especially. implied/possible shadowzel and wyllstarion. my tav will be present, this is very self indulgent and i am in lesbians with Karlach.

plain text for images:

KARLACH

6'11" - 7'

construction worker.

her first job was disastrous.

foreman Goretash pushed her into dangerous situations that she felt pressured to be in because she was the newbie.

things went wrong with the electrical on the job site, landing her in the hospital with a near-fatal heart problem.

but good* news! avernus co. offered her a mechanical heart for the low, low price of a ten year work contract! (strings attached.)

she's out of the contract now, and avernus co. is refusing to maintain her heart (and the other "upgrades" they gave her without consent.)

still in construction, unionized and a loud advocate for workers rights.

can't do caffeine. her coffee order is a creamy chocolate chill from TImothy Horthingtons.

favourite board game is ticket to ride or uno, surprisingly mean and competitive in games.

SHADOWHEART

5'6"

works at hot topic (emo)

just got out of the commune, full swing edgy phase and does NOT know how un-niche her music is yet (please don't tell her)(she might cry)

"adopted" by Shar's cult when she was little, doesn't remember much before or after that beyond what other members told her.

dissecting her faith.

roommates with Lae'zel. (they hate each other)

"roommates" with Lae'zel also. (they still hate each other) (kinda)

rps her fursona COOL CAT CHARACTER DO NOT STEAL online.

very afraid of wolves which does include sparkledogs and makes rp super difficult.

her favourite board game is catan or any ttrpg.

if asked, her coffee order is "black, like my tortured soul" but she actually gets a vanilla latte with extra syrup and sweet foam. (oat milk because regular makes her tummy hurt)

LAE'ZEL

5'7" and gods does she ever hold that extra inch over Shadowheart.

works as a personal trainer, her clients are scared of her which makes her VERY effective for the right people.

insults clients, perfectionist.

mommy issues x100

the creche has a very community/it takes a village style of raising but they do a really bad job.

she wants to be the BEST of her siblings, doesn't take failure well.

loves competitive solo sports, hiking, marathons, bouldering, boxing, etc. etc.

delights in pushing Shadowheart's buttons.

she doesn't drink coffee, her order is a smoothie.

willingly drinks the ones with kale like a CRAZY PERSON.

favourite board game is chess and while she is good at it she is a SORE loser.

WYLL

6'1"

used to work for avernus co. and now works a much quieter, mostly Mizora-free job at an elementary school.

the students favourite gym teacher.

estranged from his dad after a huge, explosive misunderstanding re: the very un-HR Mizora incident(s)

likes Go Fish and cribbage, but he's happy playing any board game the others suggest.

generally just happy to be here.

coffee of choice is an americano with a shot of apple cinnamon syrup.

loves knitting.

definitely not crushing on Astarion whaaat crazyyyy.....

his watch is from his dad. he looks at it when he misses him.

misses him a lot.

ASTARION

5'9"

former troubled teen kicked out by his rich parents.

Cazador was a "pastor" that took him under his wing and adopted him into his group home (for a price)

in debt to him now and can't outrun it.

has two jobs.

works at Olive Garden, HATES IT.

works at (insert coffee shop chain here) ALSO HATES IT.

somehow has a very popular aesthetic tumblr blog in the year of our lord 20XX

coffee order is an iced caramel latte (sometimes gets strawberry/cherry/raspberry syrup to make his pictures cooler)

his favourite board game is monopoly (he steals from the bank) but he DESPISES cheaters edition because that "takes all the fun out of it"

Wyll's feelings are mutual and he knows about them but he's too insecure to talk to Wyll about it (nerd)

GALE

5'11"

unemployed, formerly university librarian/professor.

is not over his ex, will not be over his ex for the foreseeable future.

eventually goes to a new university to teach tho.

zero rizz, this man uses mage hand to play wizard wonderwall while concentrating very hard and that makes him look constipated sorry Gale likers.

has a part time job at a Barnabus and Noblemans before going to the new university.

commissioned Wyll to make his sweater vest in affront-to-the-gods purple.

wrote some very prolific papers in the wizard community.

coffee order is matcha or a mocha

favourite board game is clue. he gets really into it.

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fr3sh-c0rn · 8 months ago

Text

2024 house md 2: electric boogaloo

Over Halloween or just in the fall, the ducklings go to a corn maze because one of their patients were in a corn maze before they were went to the hospital. House joins for no reason, and throws corn at people over the maze walls.

Foreman is secretly active on Reddit and makes posts about how terrible his boss is.

House has done a live twitch stream diagnosing his patients at least once

While a patient is having a lung collapse or a seizure or something, chase's grindr notification goes off. He never lives it down.

Wilson is very active on the musical side of Tumblr. Nobody knows this whatsoever, but Cameron follows him, not knowing its him

House had some flavor of gay patient with a mother/father that's homophobic. House chews them the fuck out because their child is dying and is making a big deal of something that doesn't matter at the moment.

For Easter, house hides real, raw eggs everywhere, including his office, Wilson and cuddy's office, several bathrooms, the lab, etc. they still find eggs (though now very disgusting) here and there weeks after.

Cameron unironically wears Crocs

house is canonically autistic, and is stated explicitly so at least once

House plays cookie clicker on the computer on his desk. ("what are you doing" "I'm putting those grandmas to WORK")

#house md meme #house md #robert chase #dr cuddy #dr chase #dr cameron #dr wilson #cuddy #gregory house #dr house #medical malpractice #malpractice md #hatecrimes md #hate crimes md

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captainlondonman · 3 months ago

Text

Workie Big Jim

WORKIE BIG JIM to J-BOI

What the hell is going on outside the front door? James looked through the window and saw 2 young guys setting up bollards in a square on the pavement outside

‘I’ve not had any notifcation for works to be done.’

As he looked out there were two guys both in their 20.s in full Hi Viz gear wearing white helmets and orange kit. One had a really good bod and knew it wearing tight trousers so he showed off a tight arse. He had a tight fitting T shirt on showing the full 6 pack and protruding nipples, making sure his waistcoat was open for all to see. He was unshaven, a good dark stubble and tanned. One arm was full of tats and he had gold earrings in both ears and a ciggie droping down from his lips. As he turned so James could see his cock pushing out from the tight confines. His head was shaved and gleaming.

Sex on legs but a mouthy son of a bitch by the look of things

The other guy was shorter and a good rugby build with hairy arms and shaved head. He was wearing dirty camos and high rigger boots. He kept wiping his nose on his cuffs. A dirty little bugger James thought

Even if James was annoyed at seeing them outside his house, he found his cock twitching at the sight of the lads.

Nothing to beat a dirty workie he thought. Christ I don’t why but the sight of these dirty young guys in Hi Viz always gets me horny . I can’t stop dreaming of being a mucky workie and having a good fuck with these guys. As he stared at them so his hand went down to his dick and started rubbing . Shit I love Hi Viz gear he said as his cock started tenting big time in his trousers. Christ I have to have a wank and they wont be able to see me getting my rocks off.

With that he took his good 6 incher out with its thick head and started to rub himself. That cocky one really gets me so horny he said watching the young lad bend over showing the tight arse. What I would do with that he said but knowing full well he never would which made his excitement even more. His hand groped his dick and he slid his sweaty hand up and down his shaft faster and faster working his thick head wet with precum. Oh God I’m coming as he shoved his head back and his cum spurted all over the wall under the window.

James showered and washed off all the excess spunk that had run down his legs Time to get to work. As he walked out the cocky lad looked over at him and winked.

‘What are you guys doing right in front of my house.’

‘What the fuck does it look like. Digging a hole mate, electrical problems. Can you not see what it says on the back of my coat.’

‘I only asked’ James said

‘And I only told you’ was the reply.

‘Have you not any foreman’ asked James

‘Nope, he buggered off, its just Jake and I, ain’t it Jake?’

‘Sure thing, Wayne but we reckon we know what were doin’

‘I certainly hope so’ James said somewhat arrogantly

‘Christ man can you not take a joke. A bit strung up ain’t you?’

‘How long is this going to take?’

‘As long as we feel like. Looks a good job for us with no one in charge so a good few cups of tea and breaks plus of course our ciggies, a good week I’d say. Wayne gave James another wink as as he did so he let his hand run down the shaft of his cock making sure that James saw the full length of his dick.

James realized that Wayne was a bloody troublemaker just baiting so decided to go off to the office without any more to say.

‘You know mate you’d be better off as one of us workies. A fucking better life than stuck in an office.’

Sitting on the bus James kept thinking what Wayne had said about being a workie and the idea of being one working along side Jake and Wayne in full Hi Viz gear made his cock rigid under his briefcase. Christ I’d be so horny working with them I’d never get any work done he joked to himself.

When he got home the two blokes had left. During the night he could not take his mind of Wayne’s arse in those Hi Viz trousers and those tats and dirt and the shaved head. He kept waking up with a raging knob on but decided not to wank as he was waiting to see the two of them the next day.

He remembered waking up early because the doorbell rang. He went to open and on the doorstep was a bag, no one there. What the hell is this?

Might as well open he thought and as he unzipped he caught sight of bright orange HI Viz clothing.

Someone must have left this but I didn’t see yesterday evening.

As he put his hand in the bag he stroked the gear and felt his cock harden.

I’ve got to look at this. He took out everything and laid it out on the table. There were a pair of thick rigger boots well used and filthy with the leather on the toe caps worn so he could see the metal. A pair of yellow socks with holes in the toes. a pissed stained worn jockstrap, A pair of mucky Hi Viz trousers with a thick belt, a ripped T shirt stained with dirt and snot, a waistcoat and helmet.

They are all much too big for me he thought sadly but he leant over the table and started smelling everything. Christ the socks are stinking with a real cheesy feet smell. It’s as though they’ve never been washed. The T shirt smelt of BO and dirt and as for the jockstrap it really smelt of piss and fresh piss at that full of yellow stains. As he stroked the jockstrap there were hard sections which he could see were of dried cum. The smell of it all as he rubbed his hands over the clothing had him so worked up he thought he might cum, his cock was already oozing precum.

‘Just looking at all this is making me so horny I’ve got to try it on even if it is too big, I just want to feel all this dirt and piss against me.’

He picked up the jockstrap and started rubbing it over his face. He wanted to cover himself with the smell of stale piss. He rubbed it over his nose and over his eyes then started stuffing it into his mouth until he was almost gagging with the smell but the more he stuffed in the more the precum appeared on the tip of his cock. With the jockstrap now moist from his spit he put on the jockstrap knowing it was far too big. As he pulled it up his legs so he suddenly felt dizzy and different. His legs started growing not just in height but width, they were bloody chunky legs with big muscles and his soft downy leg hair changed, thick dark hair started sprouting all over his legs even across the top of his feet. He pressed his stiff cock into the jockstrap and the outline changed. What was just a normal erect dick strained so much as the cotton he thought is would burst. It was a monster tool and thick as his arm scarcely able to be contained. Black curly pubic hair suddenly was growing all around sideways, upwards like a bloody gorilla,. His waist had expanded and the elastic was straining around his waist. The colour of his skin had changed from pinky white to a dark tan which with so much hair he could hardly see.

James could not understand but he knew he had to continue getting into the gear. He next put on the socks, dirty stinkin and his toes were popping through the end he must be a size 12 at least what had happened to his size 8.He lifted the Hi viz trousers and thought they were much too big for him but as he dragged them up his leg they started to feel tight. He could hardly get them over his pouch so hard was his big cock. He pushed them over and they felt so tight across his arse but as he looked down so his stomach started to change and push out. Not just a little but one hell of a lot. He had a bloody great beer belly and the hair from his pubes was rapidly speading up over the top of his trousers. As he tied his belt so his belly spread out over. He lifted the T shirt and smelt the armpits. God they stank of sweat, and there was a rip down part of the front. As he put it over his head he felt his arms ache and his chest tense. Looking more carefully his arms had expanded to reveal hard muscle he knew he never had and not just muscle but Tattoos all the way down both arms and yet more thick black hair. Christ it looked so bloody macho. The hair moved over his shoulders and he could feel it moving down both back and front. He seems like a bloody gorilla His chest seemed to blow out, the belly more pronounced and a big pair of hairy tits. The rip in the T shirt meant that one of his tits was poking through showing a big juicy nipple with a thick steel ring. As he went to put on the Hiviz waistcoat his arm brushed his face. Where was all that smooth skin of his, instead he took his thick nicotined fingers over a big bushy beard and up to a shaved head.. Only one thing left, his helmet. It looked miles too big but as he brought it down it was the perfect size , he head had expanded so much.

However the biggest change was when the helmet was fully on. James suddenly felt a strong rush of blood running round his entire body. His brain felt fried. He put his hands up to his face and shouted not in his well spoken soft voice but in a strongly accented deep tone.

‘I’m fucking Big Jim and where are those fucking skivers. Time someone fucking told them who’s Boss and its me. Time they make it up as I’m needing a fucking shag.’

With that he opened the door and Wayne and Jake were sitting with ciggie in hand and no sign of any tools.

‘What the fuck do you two think your doing. I hate fucking skivers. Get the hell in here now.’

Wayne could not believe what he saw but both were so surprised they stood up speechless and went inside.

‘So you’s think that jus because I’m no with yos you can do whit you like. Well I’ll tell you I’m the one who gives the orders not fucking you. And its lucky for you that I’m feeling fucking horny so no docking of wages but time to keep me happy and shoot a load.’ Big Jim shouted and belched rubbing his hand down the length of his cock

‘That’s a fucking monster you’ve got there Jim and I can see its already rock hard the way its tenting.’

‘Too fucking right and see that arse of your’s boy well that’s where its going. And don’t tell me you don’t like big cock. ‘

‘No way Big Boy’

With that Big Jim grabbed Wayne from the back and yanked him back bringing his bushy bearded face against Wayne. I told you what I’m doing and you do nothing but agree. Right got that?

Jim sent a big gob of spit into Wayne’s face.

‘OK mate sure thing’

Still holding Wayne by the collar with one hand Big Jim yanked open Waynes flies and pulled down his HI Viz . As he did so, Wayne’s erect cock sprang up.

‘No way you say? That stiff dick of yours is telling me something else. A good size boy and any dick as stiff as this wants a fuck. So bend over now.

And as for you Jake stop staring and rubbing your crotch. I can see that knob on from here, getting you going is it?

‘Sure bloody is Big Jim’

‘So fuckin unzip yourself and lets see what you’re made off.’

Jake stuck his hand into his Hi Viz and pulled out a long thin hard cock.

‘You can have a good wank when I say so but first your goin’ to suck yer mates dick and when I say suck I wanna see his tool all the way down your throat.

Right Wayne I said bend over .

As he pushed the lad down he took his other arm and slapped hard across his arse

‘Fuckin hell man that hurts’

‘I want to get your bum nice and hot for my cock, so quit the moaning and with that he struck again as the arse showed red.

‘Time to give you a sackful of cum boy. He dropped a gob of spit onto his throbbing cock and worked it, then taking hold of each cheek he spread them apart to get a look at Wayne’s hole.

‘Big hole boy for someone like you. Don’t tell me you’ve not had a dick my size up that crack of yours’

‘Now inch that arse back so I can spear you and don’t worry I’ll take my time.’ Slowly he inched his cock into the hole his spit giving as much lube as necessary

‘That’s it boy you now start moving back onto my prick’

‘Fuck I feel I’m going to explode’

‘Oh stop the crap and take it like a man.. That’s it you’ve got the hang of it now. Keep moving your arse further and further in. You’re tight but fucking fantastic ‘Keep going you’re almost at the hilt.’

‘I fucking hope so cant take much more length.’

With one push Big Jim was fully in.

Right Jake just fuckin looking and rubbing your dick, its time for you to give some action and give our mate here some head. I can see you can’t wait to get his knob down your throat.

Jake bent down while Wayne pushed himself further and further into Big Jim’s pubes.

‘Christ I can feel you right up’

‘I fuckin well hope so’

Jake started licking Wayne’s head dripping his spit and feeling it mix with Wayne’s precum.

‘Load of pre there man. You’d have to with a dick this size up you

Jake slowly let his mouth move up the shaft, making sure his saliva made the cock easy to get down his throat. He loved cock especially Wayne’s as the further down he got the thicker the cock was making him open his mouth fully. Once fully in he starting sliding his mouth up and down the shaft getting faster and faster

‘Fuck man, you always give the best head. Come on Jim get that prick of yours moving in and out. I wanna come with you spurting inside me.’

‘You asked for it boy and with that Jim started lunging in and out making sure his groin was right into Wayne’s arse, pounding him. He could hear the noise of the precum and spit getting louder and louder the more he fucked.

Jake had his hand wrapped around his dick wanking hard ready to swallow all Wayne’s juice

Jesus man I’m going to come, your big dick is making me so fucking horny I can’t wait any longer. Jake get ready to swallow, I’ve got bags of cum going down yer throat.’

Big Jim slowly took his cock back ready for the final push.

‘Ready boy I’m cumin all the way up you. So fucking much it’ll be coming out yer mouth.’

‘Fuck man I’m cumming

‘So am I, take it Jake, shit what a fiuck’

‘Yes boi here is comes yea, Fucking hell.’

And with that Big Jim threw his head back and all went dark

James woke up. It had all been a dream but not only had Big Jim spunked but James’s dream was so real he had come all over his chest, spunk all the way to his neck.

‘God what a dream that was amazing. I’ll need to go and shower.’

And with that the doorbell went not just once but several times.

‘Christ I’ll have to answer that. He quickly put on his tracksuit and hoping no one would notice his dripping cock making a stain, he opened the front door.

Wayne was standing leaning against the door frame with mug in hand, his eyes glinting at James, dressed in full HiViz with a thick jacket and trousers.

‘So mate, I need some water for my tea. Thought I’d get some from you. You going to ask me in?’

‘I’m busy but if you just want some water come into the kitchen.. Where’s your mate?’

‘Buggered off so just me today, at least for the moment.’

‘Let me have your mug and I’ll fill up.’

‘Don’t think I’m wrong mate but you smell of spunk. Am I right? Looks as though there some left overs staining your trackies. Been wanking thinking of me, eh’

James was speechless

‘I saw you looking at me rubbing me crotch the first day and when I saw you looking out the window I bent down knowing you were getting off seeing my tight bum. Right eh? I fucking knew you were wanking at the window. So you get off on Hi Viz workies do you? I tell you we get hit on all the times by blokes who love the gear like you. So you wanna try some on, what about mine. Bet that would really turn you. You’d feel my body part of you eh?’

Wayne gave his cock an ru knowing full well James was staring at him, and all this talk was getting not just him but James also really horny

‘Well em, if you want.’

‘Right then get your trackies off and I can first see that bod of yours and all the spunk that’s drying off.’

James did as he was told took his trackies off

‘Shit man that’s a hell of a lot of spunk I can see. Good balls eh? And not a bad sized dick either which I can see is looking for some hot action. Got a wee surprise for you mate, hope you are ready. I knew I would have you today.’

Wayne undid his jacket and opened up to take off. Underneath James saw a white T shirt with the word SKIN in large red letters on the front and red braces. His tats showed strong all the way down his arms

Wayne let down his trousers and under he had a pair of bleachers and 19hole Doc Martins with yellow laces.

‘Eyes out on stalks boi? Like what you see. This is me when not a workie but I still luv being a fucking workie.’

Wayne stood there in front of James with his head fully shaved and glistening and all the tattoos showing down his muscled arms, he was the perfect skin.

‘So get the gear on.’ Wayne barked at James.

All James wanted was to put on the Hi Viz gear and he could smell Wayne he hadn’t washed for several days but that made it all the better. James just wanted to please Wayne

God it felt great and knowing it was Wayne’s made him start to feel so horny.

Wayne put his arm around James’s neck and pulled him in to him so their faces were touching.

‘Now open yer mouth.’

As James opened his mouth so Wayne kissed him and stuck his tongue down the throat releasing a huge gob of spit into James mouth.

‘Swallow that’ he barked.

As James let the gob slide down his throat so he suddenly had a burning sensation like an electric jolt through his body but it felt bloody great.

‘Feeling good boi eh?’

‘Yea feel different.’

‘Bloody right what’s yer name?’

‘J-boi’

‘Yeh and what are you?’

‘Your bitch’

And what does my bitch do

Lick your boots

‘So fucking get down and do it in my hi viz gear. You love my fuckin gear don’t you bitch’

J-boi did as told and knelt on the floor covering Wayne’s boots with spit and licking. Wayne put one booted foot on J-boi’s head and pressed it down.

‘I said fucking lick, so get on with it. You love it boy licking my boots and being my bitch.’

J-boi licked as though his life depended on it and the more he licked he more his cock hardened making him feel so horny. He loved his cock rubbing against Wayne’s trousers making him feel part of Wayne, a skin workie.

‘Now work your way up my bleachers’

Slowly still tonguing J-boi made his way up until he came to the hard long outline of Waynes cock. Shit what a cock. His full length was straining down his bleacher leg wanting to be released but not before he made J-boi work for it.

‘Now get your mouth round my head and feel the length. Good aint it, it’s what you want you fuckin little bitch.

J-boi said nothing, he was too busy loving feeling the cock through the bleachers. He sat back looking up at Wayne like a pup.

‘You want my dick down that throat of yours don’t you boi’

‘Fucking right I do Master. You do with me what you want.’

With difficulty Wayne pulled down his zip and forced outhis thick juicy dick. It bounced up in boi’s face.

‘Look mate you’ve got be fucking hard, that what bitches do. So open that fucking mouth wide and take what’s coming to you’ as he smeared his pre cum cock against J-boi’s face

Wayne grabbed boi by the hair.

‘Once you’ve had my spunk I’m getting rid of all that fuckin hair of yours. I wan my bitch a true skinhead. As you’r goin to be a fucking dirty workie you’ve gotta look a real man

He rammed hic dick into Boi’s mouth. At first he gagged with the size and ferocity that Wayne rammed it in but he wanted every inch Wayne could give him and let his mouth and throat take the full length. He felt the pubes rubbing against his face.

‘Jesus you love my sweaty dick. I haven’t washed for a couple of days knowing I was coming here. Nice a cheesy with some hardened cum on it. Thinking of you in my Hi Viz gear sucking me off had me wanking big time but better knowing that now you’re no longer a fucking pansy but one of us Skins. A bit of work but I’ll have you tattooed, hair shaved and smoking packets of ciggies in no time

His hands still grabbing Boi, he pulled him in and out, Boi’s spit dripping down his face

‘Christ you know how to give head boi. I picked the right one to be my bitch. I’m going cum and you’re gonna take all. There’s a sackful going down.

Boi in Wayne’s Hi Viz could only think of all that cum and sucked quicker and quicker.

‘Christ I’m coming ,take it all boy’ and he exploded into Boi’s mouth. Too much for him to swallow and it oozed down his chin and on to the Hi Viz jacket. ‘Christ what a fucking blow job. Jesus boi you’re the best.’

He hauled Boi up and stuffed his mouth down bois throat licking his own cum and feeling Boi’s spit.

Master, my cocks so fucking hard in your gear, I need to cum.’

‘Ok Boi but rub yerself off in my gear, I want all that cum to run down and harden inside. Let me see you wank now Boi.

Boi had his hand around his dick rubbing up an down on the trousersfeeling Wayn’s hardened cum inside and knowing he was going to cum and mix it with Wayne’s

That’s it Boi, shoot yer fucking load inside.

Christ, I’m cumming, shit I’ve still a fucking great load in me balls Yeeees fuck man , shitttt! And Boi gushed a wad of cum inside Wayne’s Hi viz and Boi could feel it running all the way down his leg, loads of good white cum.

He sat back exhausted still oozing Wayne’s cum from his mouth

Zipping himself up Wayne said

‘Right Boi its time you got your hands dirty and came out to do an afternoon’s work in your Hi Viz. I’ll watch you with me mug of tea. Then it’s off to the barbers for you and a full razor job. I want that head of yours gleaming. After that the Tat shop to get your fist tattoo and I’ll choose what it is. Like the idea of a swastika on yer neck. Have you looking like a real skin. We’ll pick up a few can of beers with your money and then home to get you into some good skin gear of mine before we hit the pubs. Seeing you get into my skin gear will make me so fucking horny that you can expect a right good fucking before we go out. It what you wanna be mate, a fucking Hi Viz Skin. My bitch. If yer lucky I may share you around with some of the blokes

‘Sounds fucking great, master’

‘That’s my J-boi’

To be continued?

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