#granted I came in after all of the drama with him

[mollyrealized]

How Michael Met Neil

original direct link [MP3]

(Neil, if you see this, please feel free to grab the transcript and store on your site; I had no easy way of contacting you.)

DAVID TENNANT: Tell me about @neil-gaiman then, because he's in that category [previously: “such a profound effect on my life”] as well.

MICHAEL SHEEN: So this is what has brought us together.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: To the new love story for the 21st century.

DAVID: Exactly.

MICHAEL: So when I went to drama school, there was a guy called Gary Turner in my year. And within the first few weeks, we were doing something, having a drink or whatever. And he said to me, “Do you read comic books?”

And I said, “No.”  I mean, this is … what … '88?  '88, '89.  So it was … now I know that it was a period of time that was a big change, transformation going through comic books.  Rather than it being thought of as just superheroes and Batman and Superman, there was this whole new era of a generation of writers like Grant Morrison.

DAVID: The kids who'd grown up reading comic books were now making comic books

MICHAEL: Yeah, yeah, and starting to address different kinds of subjects through the comic book medium. So it wasn't about just superheroes, it was all kinds of stuff going on – really fascinating stuff. And I was totally unaware of this.

And so this guy Gary said to me, "Do you read them?" And I said, "No."  And he went, "Right, okay, here's The Watchman [sic] by Alan Moore. Here's Swamp Thing. Here's Hellblazer. And here's Sandman.”

And Sandman was Neil Gaiman's big series that put his name on the map. And I read all those, and, just – I was blown away by all of them, but particularly the Sandman stories, because he was drawing on mythology, which was something I was really interested in, and fairy tales, folklore, and philosophy, and Shakespeare, and all kinds of stuff were being mixed up in this story.  And I absolutely loved it.

So I became a big fan of Neil's, and started reading everything by him. And then fairly shortly after that, within six months to a year, Good Omens the book came out, which Neil wrote with Terry Pratchett. And so I got the book – because I was obviously a big fan of Neil's by this point – read it, loved it, then started reading Terry Pratchett’s stuff as well, because I didn't know his stuff before then – and then spent years and years and years just being a huge fan of both of them.

And then eventually when – I'd done films like the Underworld films and doing Twilight films. And I think it was one of the Twilight films, there was a lot of very snooty interviews that happened where people who considered themselves well above talking about things like Twilight were having to interview me … and, weirdly, coming at it from the attitude of 'clearly this is below you as well' … weirdly thinking I'm gonna go, 'Yeah, fucking Twilight.”

And I just used to go, "You know what? Some of the greatest writing of the last 50-100 years has happened in science fiction or fantasy."  Philip K Dick is one of my favorite writers of all time. In fact, the production of Hamlet I did was mainly influenced by Philip K Dick.  Ursula K. Le Guin and Asimov, and all these amazing people. And I talked about Neil as well. And so I went off on a bit of a rant in this interview.

Anyway, the interview came out about six months later, maybe.  Knock on the door, open the door, delivery of a big box. That’s interesting. Open the box, there's a card at the top of the box. I open the card.

It says, From one fan to another, Neil Gaiman.  And inside the box are first editions of Neil's stuff, and all kinds of interesting things by Neil. And he just sent this stuff.

DAVID: You'd never met him?

MICHAEL: Never met him. He'd read the interview, or someone had let him know about this interview where I'd sung his praises and stood up for him and the people who work within that sort of genre as being like …

And he just got in touch. We met up for the first time when he came to – I was in Los Angeles at the time, and he came to LA.  And he said, "I'll take you for a meal."

I said, “All right.”

He said, "Do you want to go somewhere posh, or somewhere interesting?”

I said, "Let's go somewhere interesting."

He said, "Right, I'm going to take you to this restaurant called The Hump." And it's at Santa Monica Airport. And it's a sushi restaurant.

I was like, “Right, okay.” So I had a Mini at the time. And we get in my Mini and we drive off to Santa Monica Airport. And this restaurant was right on the tarmac, like, you could sit in the restaurant (there's nobody else there when we got there, we got there quite early) and you're watching the planes landing on Santa Monica Airport. It's extraordinary. 

And the chef comes out and Neil says, "Just bring us whatever you want. Chef's choice."

So, I'd never really eaten sushi before. So we sit there; we had this incredible meal where they keep bringing these dishes out and they say, “This is [blah, blah, blah]. Just use a little bit of soy sauce or whatever.”  You know, “This is eel.  This is [blah].”

And then there was this one dish where they brought out and they didn't say what it was. It was like “mystery dish”, we had it ... delicious. Anyway, a few more people started coming into the restaurant as time went on.

And we're sort of getting near the end, and I said, "Neil, I can't eat anymore. I'm gonna have to stop now. This is great, but I can't eat–"

"Right, okay. We'll ask for the bill in a minute."

And then the door opens and some very official people come in. And it was the Feds. And the Feds came in, and we knew they were because they had jackets on that said they were part of the Federal Bureau of Whatever. And about six of them come in. Two of them go … one goes behind the counter, two go into the kitchen, one goes to the back. They've all got like guns on and stuff.

And me and Neil are like, "What on Earth is going on?"

And then eventually one guy goes, "Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven't ordered already, please leave. If you're still eating your meal, please finish up, pay your bill, leave."*

[* - delivered in a perfect American ‘serious law agent’ accent/impression]

And we were like, "Oh my God, are we poisoned? Is there some terrible thing that's happened?"  

We'd finished, so we pay our bill.  And then all the kitchen staff are brought out. And the head chef is there. The guy who's been bringing us this food. And he's in tears. And he says to Neil, "I'm so sorry." He apologizes to Neil.  And we leave. We have no idea what happened.

DAVID: But you're assuming it's the mystery dish.

MICHAEL: Well, we're assuming that we can't be going to – we can't be –  it can't be poisonous. You know what I mean? It can't be that there's terrible, terrible things.

So the next day was the Oscars, which is why Neil was in town. Because Coraline had been nominated for an Oscar. Best documentary that year was won by The Cove, which was by a team of people who had come across dolphins being killed, I think.

Turns out, what was happening at this restaurant was that they were having illegal endangered species flown in to the airport, and then being brought around the back of the restaurant into the kitchen.

We had eaten whale – endangered species whale. That was the mystery dish that they didn't say what it was.

And the team behind The Cove were behind this sting, and they took them down that night whilst we were there.

DAVID: That’s extraordinary.

MICHAEL: And we didn't find this out for months.  So for months, me and Neil were like, "Have you worked anything out yet? Have you heard anything?"

"No, I haven't heard anything."

And then we heard that it was something to do with The Cove, and then we eventually found out that that restaurant, they were all arrested. The restaurant was shut down. And it was because of that. And we'd eaten whale that night.

DAVID: And that was your first meeting with Neil Gaiman.

MICHAEL: That was my first meeting. And also in the drive home that night from that restaurant, he said, and we were in my Mini, he said, "Have you found the secret compartment?"

I said, "What are you talking about?" It's such a Neil Gaiman thing to say.

DAVID: Isn't it?

MICHAEL: The secret compartment? Yeah. Each Mini has got a secret compartment. I said, "I had no idea." It's secret. And he pressed a little button and a thing opened up. And it was a secret compartment in my own car that Neil Gaiman showed me.

DAVID: Was there anything inside it?

MICHAEL: Yeah, there was a little man. And he jumped out and went, "Hello!" No, there was nothing in there. There was afterwards because I started putting...

DAVID: Sure. That's a very Neil Gaiman story. All of that is such a Neil Gaiman story.

MICHAEL: That's how it began. Yeah.

DAVID: And then he came to offer you the part in Good Omens.

MICHAEL: Yeah. Well, we became friends and we would whenever he was in town, we would meet up and yeah, and then eventually he started, he said, "You know, I'm working on an adaptation of Good Omens." And I can remember at one point Terry Gilliam was going to maybe make a film of it. And I remember being there with Neil and Terry when they were talking about it. And...

DAVID: Were you involved at that point?

MICHAEL: No, no, I wasn't involved. I just happened to have met up with Neil that day.

DAVID: Right.

MICHAEL: And then Terry Gilliam came along and they were chatting, that was the day they were talking about that or whatever.

And then eventually he sent me one of the scripts for an early draft of like the first episode of Good Omens. And he said – and we started talking about me being involved in it, doing it – he said, “Would you be interested?” I was like, "Yeah, of course."  I went, "Oh my God." And he said, "Well, I'll send you the scripts when they come," and I would read them, and we'd talk about them a little bit. And so I was involved.

But it was always at that point with the idea, because he'd always said about playing Crowley in it. And so, as time went on, as I was reading the scripts, I was thinking, "I don't think I can play Crowley. I don't think I'm going to be able to do it." And I started to get a bit nervous because I thought, “I don't want to tell Neil that I don't think I can do this.”  But I just felt like I don't think I can play Crowley.

DAVID: Of course you can [play Crowley?].

MICHAEL: Well, I just on a sort of, on a gut level, sometimes you have it on a gut level.

DAVID: Sure, sure.

MICHAEL: I can do this.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: Or I can't do this. And I just thought, “You know what, this is not the part for me. The other part is better for me, I think. I think I can do that, I don't think I could do that.”

But I was scared to tell Neil because I thought, "Well, he wants me to play Crowley" – and then it turned out he had been feeling the same way as well.  And he hadn't wanted to mention it to me, but he was like, "I think Michael should really play Aziraphale."

And neither of us would bring it up.  And then eventually we did. And it was one of those things where you go, "Oh, thank God you said that. I feel exactly the same way." And then I think within a fairly short space of time, he said, “I think we've got … David Tennant … for Crowley.” And we both got very excited about that.

And then all these extraordinary people started to join in. And then, and then off we went.

DAVID: That's the other thing about Neil, he collects people, doesn't he? So he'll just go, “Oh, yeah, I've phoned up Frances McDormand, she's up for it.” Yeah. You're, what?

MICHAEL: “I emailed Jon Hamm.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And yeah, and you realize how beloved he is and how beloved his work is. And I think we would both recognise that Good Omens is one of the most beloved of all of Neil's stuff.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: And had never been turned into anything.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And so the kind of responsibility of that, I mean, for me, for someone who has been a fan of him and a fan of the book for so long, I can empathize with all the fans out there who are like, “Oh, they better not fuck this up.”

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: “And this had better be good.” And I have that part of me. But then, of course, the other part of me is like, “But I'm the one who might be fucking it up.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: So I feel that responsibility as well.

DAVID: But we have Neil on site.

MICHAEL: Yes. Well, Neil being the showrunner …

DAVID: Yeah. I think it takes the curse off.

MICHAEL: … I think it made a massive difference, didn't it? Yeah. You feel like you're in safe hands.

DAVID: Well, we think. Not that the world has seen it yet.

MICHAEL (grimly): No, I know.

DAVID: But it was a -- it's been a -- it's been a joy to work with you on it. I can't wait for the world to see it.

MICHAEL: Oh my God.  Oh, well, I mean, it's the only, I've done a few things where there are two people, it's a bit of a double act, like Frost-Nixon and The Queen, I suppose, in some ways. But, and I've done it, Amadeus or whatever.

This is the only thing I've done where I really don't think of it as “my character” or “my performance as that character”.  I think of it totally as us.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: The two of us.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: Like they, what I do is defined by what you do.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And that was such a joy to have that experience. And it made it so much easier in a way as well, I found, because you don't feel like you're on your own in it. Like it's totally us together doing this and the two characters totally complement each other. And the experience of doing it was just a real joy.

DAVID: Yeah.  Well, I hope the world is as excited to see it as we are to talk about it, frankly.

MICHAEL: You know, there's, having talked about T.S. Eliot earlier, there's another bit from The Wasteland where there's a line which goes, These fragments I have shored against my ruin.

And this is how I think about life now. There is so much in life, no matter what your circumstances, no matter what, where you've got, what you've done, how much money you got, all that. Life's hard.  I mean, you can, it can take you down at any point.

You have to find this stuff. You have to like find things that will, these fragments that you hold to yourself, they become like a liferaft, and especially as time goes on, I think, as I've got older, I've realized it is a thin line between surviving this life and going under.

And the things that keep you afloat are these fragments, these things that are meaningful to you and what's meaningful to you will be not-meaningful to someone else, you know. But whatever it is that matters to you, it doesn't matter what it was you were into when you were a teenager, a kid, it doesn't matter what it is. Go and find them, and find some way to hold them close to you. 

Make it, go and get it. Because those are the things that keep you afloat. They really are. Like doing that with him or whatever it is, these are the fragments that have shored against my ruin. Absolutely.

DAVID: That's lovely. Michael, thank you so much.

MICHAEL: Thank you.

DAVID: For talking today and for being here.

MICHAEL: Oh, it's a pleasure. Thank you.

[contact-guy]

Part 7, the final comic in my SIGN OF THE FOUR chapter. (Part one), (part two), (part three), (part four), (part five), (part six).

The context for this conversation is: Holmes has had no work from Scotland Yard due to rumors about his and Watson's relationship. He responded to this with excessive cocaine use and then working himself unhealthy on the one case that came along; Mary Morstan's. Meanwhile, Watson befriended Mary, who is also gay, and realized that a lavender marriage with her could make him and Holmes safe, as well as granting her more freedom. Watson has not yet told Holmes of his decision.

(This is part of the Watsons sketchbook series!)

canon scene under the cut, which is achingly poignant in its own right:

“Well, and there is the end of our little drama,” I remarked, after we had set some time smoking in silence. “I fear that it may be the last investigation in which I shall have the chance of studying your methods. Miss Morstan has done me the honour to accept me as a husband in prospective.”

He gave a most dismal groan. “I feared as much,” said he. “I really cannot congratulate you.”

I was a little hurt. “Have you any reason to be dissatisfied with my choice?” I asked.

“Not at all. I think she is one of the most charming young ladies I ever met, and might have been most useful in such work as we have been doing. She had a decided genius that way: witness the way in which she preserved that Agra plan from all the other papers of her father. But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment.”

“I trust,” said I, laughing, “that my judgment may survive the ordeal. But you look weary.”

“Yes, the reaction is already upon me. I shall be as limp as a rag for a week.”

“Strange,” said I, “how terms of what in another man I should call laziness alternate with your fits of splendid energy and vigour.”

“Yes,” he answered, “there are in me the makings of a very fine loafer and also of a pretty spry sort of fellow. I often think of those lines of old Goethe,—

Schade dass die Natur nur einen Mensch aus Dir schuf, Denn zum würdigen Mann war und zum Schelmen der Stoff.

“By the way, à propos of this Norwood business, you see that they had, as I surmised, a confederate in the house, who could be none other than Lal Rao, the butler: so Jones actually has the undivided honour of having caught one fish in his great haul.”

“The division seems rather unfair,” I remarked. “You have done all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets the credit, pray what remains for you?”

“For me,” said Sherlock Holmes, “there still remains the cocaine-bottle.” And he stretched his long white hand up for it.

[wonderjanga]

You!

Wizard: “Say my name Billy!”

Billy: “Shazam!” *gets lightninged*

Wizard: *pauses to look at his Marvel form dumbfounded*

Marvel: “What? What is it- Oh my god, I sound like a grown man.” *sounds horrified as he’s checking out his new form*

Wizard: *blinks rapidly before rubbing his eyes and checking again*

As for why the Wizard was so dumbfounded? Well, the young Batson’s form looks exactly like his. Granted, the clothes are different, but still. He hadn’t seen anything this eerie since the boy’s father. Honestly, when he first saw the man, it gave him what humans nowadays call, the heebie geebies.

It’s actually because of they look identical that the Wizard told him about Black Adam instead of just praying that Teth didn’t escape the seal.

Wizard: *walking to his chair* “My work here is done, Billy. I trust you will handle your duties as Champion. If you ever need me, light the brazier.” *sits on his chair*

Marvel: “Mr. Wizard Sir, there’s a rock that’s about to fall on you-”

Wizard: “There’s also this man named Black Adam! Billywatchoutforhim-” *rock thing falls and kills him*

Marvel: *horrified he just saw a man die*

After getting over his shock of the Wizard dying, Billy’s life went as usual. He went around, saving people, defeating villains, just all around being a hero. During all this, he kept the name Black Adam at the back of his mind.

Then, the day came that Black Adam escaped and came to Fawcett to get rid of the current champion.

Marvel: *helping some little lady cross the road*

Black Adam: “Champion.” *hovers over Marvel, casting his shadow over him*

Marvel: *finishes helping the old lady and looks over to Adam but can only see his silhouette because of the sun being the hovering man* “Huh?”

Black Adam: *visibly flinches because he literally sees the Wizard himself looking up at him*

Yeah, Teth was fucking surprised. Why wouldn’t he be? As far as he knew the Wizard gave up his powers. So, how in the world is the man standing in front of him in Champion form? Gods, why is he getting flashbacks right now? He hasn’t seen that form since he and Shazam were still on good terms and even then, he gave it up soon after Adam became Champion.

Marvel: *tries to put his hand up so he can block the sun out*

Black Adam: *thinks he’s about to attack him and just rushes him*

Teth rammed him so far away they ended up in the middle of nowhere.

Marvel: “What the heck man?!”

Black Adam: “JEBIDIAH!” *tries to punch him*

Marvel: *dodges and is extremely confused* “Wha-”

Black Adam: “Did you really think I wouldn’t escape?!” *tries to punch him again*

Marvel: *dodges and pieces together the fact that this guy is wearing black and trying to kill him* “Black Adam?!”

They didn’t get many more words in before they just started brawling. Billy left the fight confused and with a new enemy, and Adam left the fight filled with rage and with his “old” enemy. Billy went back to the cave and lit the brazier. Shazam ended up telling him all the drama while Billy sat on the floor like a child being read a story by their teacher.

Eventually, he and Adam had more run ins.

Marvel: *dodges a punch* “I just don’t get it, we’re so much alike, why can’t we just be friends?

Black Adam: “Friends? Friends?! We will never be friends again! I was sealed for 5000 years because of you!”

Marvel: “Adam, you killed all of the council. I didn’t do anything. You being sealed was your own doing.”

A new station recorded this and now people think the two were friends who became estranged after Adam killed the is so called council. People make porksoda edits with them. Just to clarify, this isn’t Mamaragan(?) wizard this is just The Wizard. The white one. Jebidiah?

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place. 

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange. 

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown. 

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter. 

Or, at least, none that mattered. 

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do. 

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play. 

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift. 

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether. 

And Peter never even asked why. 

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?” 

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.” 

And how true that must have been. 

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too. 

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night? 

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.” 

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?! 

 “Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?” 

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.” 

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter. 

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?  

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.” 

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.” 

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter. 

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.” 

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used. 

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar. 

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite. 

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.” 

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now. 

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?” 

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.” 

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too. 

“Did he?” 

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.” 

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's. 

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him. 

“Well did he have anything useful?” 

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter. 

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups. 

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0. 

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration. 

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear. 

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?” 

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation. 

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.” 

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite. 

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?” 

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.” 

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?” 

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch. 

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?” 

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him. 

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.” 

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.” 

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.” 

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth. 

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.” 

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?” 

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that���in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?” 

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.” 

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.” 

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now! 

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?” 

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-” 

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!” 

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.” 

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief. 

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded. 

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere. 

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now. 

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down… 

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.” 

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell. 

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered. 

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night? 

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.” 

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips. 

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world. 

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all. 

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone. 

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting. 

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway. 

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!” 

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!” 

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else. 

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?” 

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?” 

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.” 

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse. 

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully. 

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter. 

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!” 

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.” 

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?” 

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task. 

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway. 

“Mj happened.” 

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?” 

“Yep. That’s the one.” 

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.” 

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.” 

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease. 

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth. 

You sucked in a breath. 

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.” 

His brow snapped up. “What changed?” 

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours. 

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth. 

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.” 

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?” 

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance. 

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.” 

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-” 

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.” 

“I’m not pretending-” 

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.” 

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.” 

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest. 

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.” 

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?” 

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

[the-witty-pen-name]

Slumber Party Kissing

Gareth Emerson X F!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Synopsis: The Wheeler siblings are at odds because Mike needs to host Hellfire the same night as Nancy’s slumber party on her weekend home from college. As much as the two of them try to keep the groups apart, intermingling inevitably ensues.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI cursing; alcohol; arguing; flirting; kissing/making out; fingering; oral m receiving (+swallowing); dirty talk

A/N: Y'all- idk what came over me with this one... Comments & reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you like it!

The last thing Nancy wanted to hear is that she’s being forced to share the house with her brother’s weird friends. She hasn’t seen her friends in months and now her reunion is being trampled on by a band of geeks with stupid dice. She pleaded with her mother- begged practically on her hands and knees to please not let Mike have his friends over that night. 

Mike was stuck. The drama club had completely taken over the theatre room with their show coming up- the whole space is completely torn apart and they’ve essentially forced Hellfire out. Eddie cornered Mike, and put the burden to figure out a new meeting spot on him. Mike had no choice but to beg his parents to let Hellfire meet at their house that night. 

So, the Wheeler house was a house divided. Hellfire was corralled in the basement while Nancy and her friends staked their claim to the ground floors. And it worked- for a little while. Until the campaign would be interrupted, giggling girls and loud music from above distracting from the harrowing journey. Or, the girls would hear the screams and battle cries from below- Nancy rolling her eyes and becoming more annoyed with every passing minute. 

You’d been anxious about tonight ever since Nancy told you Hellfire Club was going to be there. Not because you believed what everyone said, you knew they weren’t. It was because you knew Gareth would be there, the boy you crushed on the entirety of high school. You hadn’t seen him since your graduation back in June. Now, what was supposed to be a night of girl talk and catching up with your old friends, is different than you’d hoped- your mind unable to focus on the fact that he’s so close by. 

“Hungry Eyes” by Eric Carmen blasting through the whole house on the living room stereo is Eddie’s breaking point. He slams his campaign notebook on the edge of the table as he gets up. “I’m putting a fucking stop to this,” he exclaims, kicking up from his seat. Mike panics, knowing that he’ll never hear the end of it from Nancy if Eddie crashes her party. Gareth and Jeff are in tow, and Grant steps in front of the stairs, blocking Mike from following them up. 

“Wheeler, can you turn this shit off!? Holy-” Eddie’s words fail as Jeff and Gareth stumble in behind them. You feel like you’ve been caught in something as the boys storm in. You’re frozen in place- standing in the middle of the Wheeler’s living room in your pajamas, hairbrush microphone in hand, singing along with Eric Carmen as off-key as you could manage. You feel like someone pulled the curtain back on you leaving you completely exposed. The girls who were cheering you on have all fallen silent, and Nancy looks like she might kill Eddie. Mike comes bursting into the room, but is stuck in place at the tension in the room. He doesn’t know how to diffuse the situation. 

Gareth didn’t know you were going to be here. Seeing you again has him slack-jawed. He can’t help the way his eyes rake over you. It’s been months since he’d seen you. The fabric of your pajama set looks so soft- the tiny shorts showing off more of your leg than your skirts at school ever did. He’s dreamt about being able to see you like this. He didn’t think he’d ever see you after graduation, and he doesn’t know how to handle himself. 

“Let’s go to the kitchen- I have appetizers I made,” Nancy suggests, shooting daggers at Eddie- shoving past them to go towards the kitchen. She grabs two bottles of wine by their stems from the cabinet and gestures for all of you to follow her. Embarrassed, you turn off the stereo and slip past them- avoiding looking at Gareth at all costs. You were mortified. 

“Come on, let’s get back to the campaign,” Mike tries to urge, knowing that he’s going to be facing hell from Nancy tomorrow when everyone is gone. Gareth didn’t hear him, too wrapped up in his own thoughts- his eyes still following your every move. He doesn’t break his stare until you glance up and catch him looking. He immediately shifts his focus back to Mike and nods in agreement. For now, they all retreat back to the basement to pick up where they left off. 

The group of you stand around the kitchen island, enjoying the array of finger food Nancy has put out. It looks like something taken directly out of Good Housekeeping. You’re sandwiched between Nancy and Chrissy as all the girls resume their chatter. “I am so sorry about that,” Nancy says to the group, “I tried everything to prevent that.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Chrissy shrugs, “It’s Mike’s house too.” Always diplomatic. “Besides,” she giggles looking around before she speaks, “I always thought Eddie was really cute.”

“Ew!” Nancy says in faux disgust as the group all laugh. Chrissy’s cheeks flush a rosy pink and she hides her head in her hands. 

“Sue me!” she jokes. “I can’t help it, I love the hair and the tats- he’s so hot!”

“I get it,” Tina shrugs, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s the whole rock star look- it’s against the laws of nature for a loser to be that hot. Do you guys remember Billy? He was so hot.”

“He was a total psychopath!” Nancy says, jaw dropped. She leans on the table and takes another sip of her wine. “He works at the auto body shop now,” she continues.

“Mental note to slash my own tires,” Tina jokes. “Oh, he was totally insane- but god, those abs. I would go to the pool like at least three times a week the whole summer he worked there. He was a god. He totally wanted to fuck your mom, Nance-”

“EW! Shut up!” she gasps, waving her hand over Tina’s mouth. 

“What about you?” Tina asks, directing her attention back to you. “Who did you think was hot in high school?” Your face burns. 

“Uh-”

An eruption of screams from downstairs distracts everyone and you thankfully don’t have to answer. The boys have suffered a major loss in their campaign. Lucas’s character has just died a heinous death at the hands of Venca and they are riled up, desperate for vengeance on behalf of their fallen comrade. Dustin has chosen to lead the group to Vecna’s lair against the odds that are stacked against them. The boys clamor and scream as they watch the dice roll. It will be the end of everything. 

“Can you guys keep it down?” Nancy yells, stomping down the stairs with you and Chrissy closely behind, interrupting the game. Mike and Dustin shout, irritated that she's come downstairs to interfere. “Mike, I swear to god! You guys have been so obnoxious the whole night and we’ve said nothing!” 

You rock and on your heels anxiously, not sure why Nancy insisted on bringing you down here. She didn’t need back up. She could handle this fine. She mumbled something about a united front when she grabbed your wrist, dragging you downstairs with her. 

“If you girls wanted to play with us, all you needed to do was ask,” Eddie smirks, warning a scoff from Nancy- but a blush from Chrissy. Gareth wants the world to open up and swallow him whole. He can’t even bear to look over at you. “Why don’t we all just play nice?” He says, eyes flickering over to Chrissy. She giggles nervously. Good god, he was laying it on so thick- and it was fucking working. 

“You’re a pig,” Nancy states matter of factly. He ignores her and he winks at Chrissy. She giggles again, and you roll your eyes. You grab her forearm to shake her out of it. 

Gareth is jealous at how easy all of this comes to Eddie. He exudes confidence, and Gareth wishes he had just an ounce of that. He could say something to make you react that way towards him. He craves that. He wants you to look at him the way Chrissy is looking at Eddie. He’s so wrapped up in his own head he can’t see that the way you look at him is even more intense than the exchange between Eddie and Chrissy. 

Gareth’s hair is unruly from the excitement of the campaign. His curls are everywhere and you just desperately want to run your hands through it. You can imagine kissing him, and your hands are the cause of the mess of curls. His jaw is clenched, probably from the stress of the awkward situation, but you can’t help but dwell on how good it looks. You bite your lip, like it’s holding you back. 

Giving up for now, Nancy glared at Mike one more time before heading back upstairs- stomping loudly on every step for emphasis. You and Chrissy look at each other, exchanging a look, both of you communicating with your eyes before following Nancy back upstairs. You wish you had an excuse to stay. 

Your eyes are covered by slices of cucumber as you lay down on the floor of the living room. As it got later in the evening, both parties began to mellow- for your group, that meant mud masks and relaxing lotions, and nail painting. You all lounged on the furniture or the floor, wherever there was space. You laid in front of the couch as Chrissy and Tina shared the couch, their heads on opposite sides. Nancy sat in one recliner, and Vicki in the other. Ally, Samantha, Amy, Laurie and Becky joined you on the carpet. 

After the campaign ended, the boys opted to stick around and hang out, watching a crappy movie on the television set in the basement. Gareth was fidgeting, unable to relax- you were right upstairs! You were so close and still as unattainable as ever. He didn’t know if after tonight he’d have an opportunity to see you again. He should’ve taken advantage of the time when he saw you in school every day. You’re no longer in his life by proximity. He knew he should make a move, say something- anything. He just didn’t know how he would without embarrassing himself. 

Nancy had easy listening music playing softly as you all basked in the pampering. You were all just talking about nothing- college, work, catching up. You hadn’t seen these girls since everyone started going their own way after graduation. “You never answered my question earlier,” you hear Tina’s voice direct the comment towards you. You wince, grateful that none of them can see you squirm- everyone with either cooling eye masks or cucumbers over their eyes. They would be none the wiser if you could just be nonchalant- something that was never your strong suit. 

“Honestly?” you begin nervously, trying to steady your breath. It’s become so late that you’re too tired to advise yourself to not spill. “Gareth Emerson- since like freshman year when he showed up to school with his hair grown out- I would just wanna run my hands through it all the time.” You expect to be met with laughter, teasing you for having a crush on a freak- like how they reacted to Chrissy. Instead, you’re met with an unsettling silence. You sit up, letting the cucumbers fall into your lap. Everyone else had taken their masks off already, and you didn’t know. You look up and follow where everyone is looking.   

Gareth is standing right there, looking at you with his eyes wide in shock. Apparently everyone else heard someone walk in, except you. This is worse than anything- a million times worse to the awkwardness of the Eric Carmen incident earlier tonight, worse than when you got your period and bleed through your jeans in middle school, worse than when you forgot the words to the pledge of allegiance when you did the morning announcements, worse than when you tripped and accidentally spilled your lunch all over Carol… every awkward thing that you’ve done that keeps you lying awake at night is nothing compared to this. 

You’re so embarrassed, you can’t even think and you feel like the room is spinning. You can’t even say anything as everyone looks to you for your reaction. The silence is killing you. There’s nothing to drown out the ringing in your ears as your worst possible fear is coming true. You quickly get up and rush upstairs as tears threatening to fall blur your vision, and your friends let you go. You need to brush shoulders with Gareth to get to the stairs, and you feel your skin ignite at the sensation despite feeling like the house is shattering around you. 

You’ve resolved that you’re going home. You can’t handle being under the same roof as him anymore. It’s all too much. It feels like practically your entire gradutating class seems to know about your crush now. More importantly, so did he. Rather than face the sting of rejection, in the heat of the moment, you resolve to try to get dressed and sneak out the bathroom window. You decide you can be gone before people realize you’ve left. Before you do anything to put your elaborate plan into motion, you run the water to splash some on your face. There’s a hesitant knock on the door. 

“It’s Gareth,” he says softly from the other side of the door. 

Oh god no, you panic. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of the mirror. Fuck. 

“Can we talk?” He asks, tapping gently on the door. 

No. 

“Uh, yeah,” you sniffle, trying your best to hide it. You open the door to face him. You’re bracing yourself for the worst. “Listen,” you begin, resolving that you will badly lie your way out of this to salvage your pride. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that. It was just like a stupid high school crush. I’ve gotten over it…”

“What if,” he poses, finally mustering his courage, “what if I never got over it?” 

Gareth doesn’t really remember a lot of the things he was supposed to be learning when you both were still in school. He vaguely remembered things, but only because how could he be expected to look at the board when you were so close, sat right in front of him. He’d memorize the back of your head before even thinking about trying to memorize his notes. 

The day the teacher went over Punnett squares? No idea, cause you were wearing that bow in your hair. Covalent bonds? That was the day your hair was up in a claw clip- and all he could focus on was the way it accentuated your neck and shoulders. Periodic table? Maybe he could name a few if he tried, but he remembered that jean skirt you wore so much better. Stoichiometry? Couldn’t even tell you if that’s a real word- but, he remembers that your perfume always smelled like vanilla.

“What the fuck is taking him so long?” Mike finally asks the group. Gareth left to go to the bathroom what feels like forever ago. Eddie is bobbing is knee impatiently that he shakes the table. 

“You should go check on him,” Dustin says to Mike. 

“And face the wrath of Nancy? Fuck that,” Mike says, shaking his head. 

“It’s your house, man,” Lucas points out. 

“You all are pathetic, acting like babies, can’t believe you’re acting this scared of fucking Wheeler,” Eddie is exasperated and his patience has now worn thin. “Fuck, I’ll go with you Wheeler, I don’t care if your sister yells at me.” 

Heading upstairs, Eddie and the rest of Hellfire stop dead in their tracks. The entire slumber party is sitting so still, eyes directed upstairs like they're anticipating something at any second. No one even acknowledges the guys’ entrance until Jeff speaks up.

“What is going-” he tries to ask.

“SHH!” Several of the girls shush him at once. He’s taken aback. 

“What happened?” Eddie whispers, taking a seat next to Chrissy. The rest of Hellfire trickles in and takes seats on the floor or on the arms of the chairs. Everyone is waiting literally on the edge of their seats. 

“We were all talking, you know-” Chrissy whispers, “girl talk. Crushes and stuff.”

“Normal sleepover you know?” Tina chimes in, helping Chrissy set the scene for all of the guys. 

Chrissy asks if Eddie remembered you, he nods and so do the others. Of course, Eddie, Jeff and Grant remembered you. You were all Gareth would talk about outside of band practice or DnD. Jeff and Grant exchange a wary look, not sure where this is going. What the fuck happened?”

“Well, Tina asked her who she had a crush on,” Chrissy continues to explain, Eddie leaning in closer as she keeps her voice down so the girls can continue to eavesdrop. “And she said Gareth and Gareth walked in just as she was talking about him. She was so upset, she darted upstairs before anyone could say anything. Gareth followed her. We don’t know what to do!”

“You let them be,” Eddie says matter of factly. If he could run upstairs and high five his best friend he would, but being the guy’s best friend at this moment means Eddie needs to keep people distracted so you both can sort yourselves out. He goes over to the stereo and looks through the options.

“Mike, your family has shit for cassettes,” Eddie declares, “None of you have taste.” He holds up Nancy’s copy of Rio between his thumb and index finger, dangling it like it’s something smelly that’s gone bad. “I’m disappointed in you, Wheeler.”

Nancy gets up and snatches the cassette from him. Spitefully, she shoves the tape into the player and turns it all the way up. Hungry Like the Wolf starts playing halfway through cause she didn’t rewind it the last time she listened. She turns the volume dial up, and flips Eddie the bird. He walks over to shut it off, purposely agitating her. Nancy stomps over and turns it back on. 

Your hands are tangled in Gareth’s hair and it’s better than you even imagined it would be. His curls are so soft, and he moans against your lips at the sensation when you tug gently. You completely forgot everyone was downstairs until you both heard the radio switching on and off rapidly. You both pull away from a heated kiss and turn to the direction of the door, a brief moment of confusion before Gareth shrugs and connects his lips to yours again. 

You’re sitting on the bathroom counter, Gareth standing between your legs which have now wrapped around him. His hands grip the sides of your thighs, practically kneading at your soft skin. Your lips slot perfectly against his, and it’s better than you imagined it would be. Your hands travel from his hair to cup his jaw and you use your legs to pull him in even closer, until your chests are flush against each other. The sensation is dizzying. 

“Wanted this for so long,” he moans softly against your ear, when you both pull away for air. His lips trail from the bottom of your ear, down your neck and collarbone. “So fucking pretty,” he mumbles against your skin, kissing right along to your shoulder. 

“Gare, please,” you beg, not even fully sure what you’re asking for. Your breathy little plea goes straight to his cock. 

“I’ve got you baby,” he promises. His fingertips dip into the waistband of your pajama shorts and he groans, dipping his forehead to rest on your shoulder. “You’re not wearing panties?” he asks, but not a question- but more like a sigh, like the knowledge of you being bare under your set is too much for him to handle. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he presses his lips to yours again, his fingertips circling your clit perfectly. “So wet,” he praises against your lips, not breaking the kiss. 

His fingers slip into your folds and you rest your head back on the bathroom mirror, your chest rising and falling rapidly- you’re falling apart at his touch. Just like you knew you always would. You’re a moaning, pleading mess, his name falling from your lips over and over again like a prayer. The familiar knot starts to coil up as you feel your orgasm send a wave throughout your entire body. Your hands are holding his hair to keep you grounded as you become unraveled. He kisses you through it, praising you and whispering sweet things as he works you through your high. 

Your forehead rests against his, foreheads sweaty, but neither of you can even bring yourself to care. You kiss him slowly, gently pushing him back against the opposite fall. His eyes widen in surprise as he observes your actions. You move as one with him, climbing off the counter and then you sink down to your knees, eye level with the prominent bulge in his jeans. 

“Oh fuck,” he moans as you make quick work of undoing his zipper and freeing his cock from the restraint of his jeans and boxers. He’s looking down at you, trying to commit it to memory: your wide eyes hungrily staring at his cock, your manicured hand wrapping gently around him. your pretty lips kissing his tip and your tongue licking up the length before taking his cock into your pretty mouth. His hands rest in your hair and he closes his eyes, resting his head back because it already feels too fucking good. He can’t look at you- he knows it will send him over the edge too soon. There’d been so many nights he’d fantasize exactly this- he’s almost afraid that he’ll open his eyes and you’ll be gone. All of tonight being just a figment of his imagination. 

He opens his eyes to steal a glimpse of you finally, and you're looking up at him with these round doe eyes and it’s all too much for him to take. “I’m close- what should I-” he manages to say, but his coming apart only makes you all the more eager. You continue your pace, but you reach up and hold his hips, your nails slightly digging into his skin to keep him in place. It all becomes so overwhelming, and you moan feeling him pulse, knowing he’s so teasingly close. He practically whimpers as it washes over him as he finally releases and you’re still going- working him through it. When he pulls away, you do something he never imagined. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out ever so slightly, showing him his cum in your mouth before you swallow. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. He bends down to kiss you, cupping your face in his hands. He can't taste himself on you, and he thinks it might be the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. 

A loud, pounding knock on the door makes you both jump. You quickly scramble to your feet, wiping the spit from your mouth and Gareth fumbles to get his zipper back up.  “Can you two lovebirds finish up in there!?” Eddie shouts, “I can’t keep covering for your asses anymore! Emerson, we have a campaign to fucking finish!”

TAGLIST: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael

[ddodol]

action — s.es

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, rookie actor!eunseok, actress fem!reader, pet names, eunseok is shy?, oral (m.), eunseok head pusher agenda, dacryphilia, eunseok is also kinda mean. word count⭑.ᐟ 1.6k+

a/n; accidentally posted the draft earlier while i was on my phone </3 i thought it was gone for good adfdaks. anyway :3 merry christmas yall <3

eunseok was a fairly new actor, rising to fame for his unreal features and the innate ability to make a person’s heart go wild.

despite all of that, the proud song eunseok had but one weakness— intimate scenes.

you were casted as a lead actor alongside eunseok, a monumental achievement in your acting career that you don’t plan on taking for granted. you were slightly older than eunseok, more experienced. he was fully aware of that as well, ears turning bright red whenever he had to ask you for pointers whenever it came to scenes that required physical contact.

even after months of filming, eunseok couldn’t break out of his shy demeanor, whether it was with the staff or with you, his co-lead. though, he was professional enough to not let it affect the filming progress— until today, that is.

the director proposed for a break, having messed up one scene countless of times. feeling guilty, the rookie actor was bowing and apologizing to the staff for the delays he was starting to cause. he was lucky to be working with such an easygoing crew, otherwise he'd be getting reprimanded for his unprofessionalism.

nonetheless, eunseok tried his best in everything, and you knew that he'd come looking for you in a matter of minutes after looking over the scenes for tonight.

you met his eyes from afar, exchanging a knowing look. you had no idea how it happened, considering how you were only a few months his acting senior, but he always came to you for help. eunseok walked past the staff, long legs striding, approaching you with flushed cheeks.

how adorable, you thought.

”do you want to try it somewhere more private?” your simple question made him blush once more, making you giggle a little. he gave you a small nod, which you smiled at. “follow me.”

you led the way, the sound of his footsteps filling up the hallway as a reminder that he was just right behind you.

as soon as the door to your dressing room closed, eunseok grabbed your arm and pinned you against the door, taking you by surprise. he was even more breathtaking up close, taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor.

you could hear him swallow audibly, lips parted open as he took a deep, shaky breath. “was that okay?” eunseok asked meekly, eyes turning glossy and his cheeks beginning to flush, a huge contrast to how he was acting seconds earlier. that was when it hit you— he was trying out a scene from the drama. you bit your bottom lip, fighting back a giggle.

you teasingly snaked your arms around him, testing his reaction. sure enough, he turned even redder, almost about to explode as his brain processed what was happening.

”is this okay, too?” you whispered, staring up at him. taking it a step further, you slowly ran your hands through his chest, feeling his breath hitch. you chuckled, amused by his reaction.

”you don’t seem to have any trouble with that,” you stared at him, trying to gauge his reaction. you noticed the way he was shifting around uncomfortably, now avoiding your gaze. you looked down instinctively, eyes going wide at the surprise he had for you.

”oh, wow.”

eunseok cleared his throat, shyly glancing at you. “fuck— i’m sorry, it’s been like that since earlier.”

you raised a brow, eyes flickering up and down. “you mean, you’ve been rock hard ever since our characters were talking about their break-up?” you asked, in disbelief.

”no, no, no!” he sighed, hanging his head out of embarrassment, bright red ears in full display. despite working together for a month, this was the first time you’ve seen him this vulnerable. “you’re a pretty crier,” eunseok mumbled.

oh, that explains a lot.

your couple scenes so far all included some dramatic dialogue, and that meant you were crying most of the time. eunseok always seemed so invested during those scenes, holding you more tenderly and speaking in a way that felt intimate— the exact vibe your director has been trying to fish out of him.

you held back a smile, hooking a finger under his chin to make him look at you. eunseok let out a shuddering breath, eyes fixated on the way your lips curved up. he didn’t care how stupid he looked right now, eunseok was sure that anyone would act the same way if you were doing the same thing to them.

he swallowed thickly, parted lips slowly closing in on yours. you pressed your palm on his mouth before he could kiss you, prompting him to look at you in confusion.

"never said you could have a taste," you mumbled, a small smirk forming on your lips. eunseok was feeling desperate— he did have a massive boner rubbing against your thigh after all.

"please." you chuckled at his desperation, watching him take your ring finger in between his teeth, nibbling on it gently. "i'll get my act together after this, i swear. i just want to see those pretty lips around my cock," eunseok groans, brows furrowing as his lips moved against your fingers, as if he was kissing them instead.

you sighed softly, eyes darting down at his erect length. you reached down to palm him through his pants, making eunseok moan sensitively. eunseok's cock throbbed against your hand, breath hitching in your throat as you felt a flood of warmth surging through your body.

you felt turned on from his soft sighs, intoxicated with the way his pretty face would twist whenever you focused on his tip. you bit your lip, "fuck it."

eunseok watched as you tied your hair up, freezing in surprise when you got on your knees without any hesitation. he swallowed thickly, eyes trained on every single movement you made. he murmured soft curses when you helped him free his erect length, cock standing tall and casting a shadow over your features.

it was your turn to swallow nervously, taking in every single curve and vein of his cock. eunseok's cock was pretty, the tip of his cock already red and leaking. you glanced at him, licking a small strip up his shaft to start.

eunseok shuddered in response, clenching his jaw as he tangled his hand through the messy hairdo you just did. he panted softly, almost willing you to take him in your mouth, desperate to know how you'd feel.

your face contorted, comfortably taking in his tip. eunseok's cock wasn't thick save for his tip, letting you relax your jaw as you took in more of his length. by the time you reached what you assumed was half of him, you could already feel his tip poking at the gummy part of the roof of your mouth, making you gag slightly.

his eyes visibly sparkled when he felt you gagging on his cock, tempted to act on his impulses. he let you bob your head shallowly, trying to get used to his length. eunseok discreetly flexed his hips forward whenever you'd move down on his cock, wanting to see you gagging on his cock, to see you crying as you take him in your warm mouth.

eunseok cupped your cheek with one hand, his other still tangled through your scalp. "i know you can take more," his deep voice rang in your ears, body tingling as you glanced up at him. eunseok's eyes were dark, panting softly as he stared down at you.

it was almost like you couldn't find the same bashful rookie actor you were just teasing a few moments ago— now you were at his mercy.

without warning, eunseok pushed your head down on his length, the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat. you gagged, closing your eyes shut as tears began to sting your eyes.

eunseok licked his lips, jerking his hips forward as he moved your head for you. he could tell you were overwhelmed, your whines vibrating against his throbbing length.

"fuck," he whispered, watching as a tear rolled down your cheek. your eyes fluttered open, brows furrowed as you stared up at him. eunseok could feel shivers down his spine, adoring the way you looked helpless with his cock filling your mouth.

eunseok could tell that you've surrendered to him, letting him move you as he pleased. his soft moans began to fill the empty room, thighs starting to tense up. he was close.

you let out small, broken moans of your own, gripping on his legs as he pushed you down on his cock, thrusting deep. you could feel your throat bruising, tears spilling from your eyes at the slight pain.

"baby, hold my hand if you don't want me to cum inside your pretty mouth." you stared up at him through your bleary vision, finding his cheeks fully flushed. you had no intentions of stopping him from what he wants, mostly because you were craving for it as well.

eunseok's breath hitched in his throat when he met your eyes, "fuck, fuck— what a good fucking girl." you felt shivers down your spine at his gruff praises.

his hips began to stutter, bucking into your face, balls slapping your chin with each movement. he let out a deep groan, head thrown back as he pressed your head down to the base of his cock. you gagged, unable to contain your coughs when you felt him shooting his cum in your throat.

you pulled away as soon as his grip on your head loosened, coughing violently. you wiped away traces of his cum on the edge on your mouth, as well as the mix of liquids that found its way through your nose.

eunseok panted, placing his hand against the door to support himself up, legs trembling miserably from his orgasm. his eyes flickered, reaching down to help clean your face.

once you were decent, eunseok helped you get up. he chuckled softly, holding your cheek. "you know, every time we get on scene and you cry— this is all i'd ever think about now."

you laughed weakly, voice still a bit hoarse. "guess that means i need to keep helping you out, then."

[starry-bi-sky]

Okay so this is almost a direct copy-paste of my earlier reblog but only the Xin Yuan parts, because its long enough to be its own post and i want to share it! It deserves it's own post <3 typical starry stuff to write a 2k word long reblog, unfortunately.

I say almost because I went through to proof read and ended up adding more stuff.

I've been cooking on this idea for the last two days since I saw the Xin Mo!Shen Yuan post but??? I can't find anything on Xin Mo's backstory or how it came to be -- which means that's free fucking plot right there baby. That's a sandbox and im making LIFE SIZED CASTLES. I'm so excited.

The idea of Shen Yuan transmigrating centuries before the events of PIDW as Xin Mo -- but when he wakes up, he's not the sword. He wakes up in the body of a young boy named Xin Yuan. Now it makes sense for this boy to be a demon, but the drama, the intrigue, the spice of Xin Yuan being a human child.

SY wakes up as a boy below the age of ten, and the System tells him where he is, and SY is excited to meet his favorite protagonist -- only to gradually realize that he's like, a thousand years or so before the events of the novel. The rant he gives the system is legendary.

Bc what's the point of getting dropped into PIDW if he's never going to meet his favorite character??? This is a scam! BUT he settles into his new life, he's like, some orphan street rat or some other tragic airplane-esq backstory.

The system gives Shen Yuan his first mandatory quest: become a righteous cultivator. Which was like, kinda his plan/hopes anyways, except! There's like?? No official cultivator sects anywhere? The Cang Qiong Mountain Sect hasn't even been established yet, and there are pockets of cultivators running around, maybe some groups or schools popping up and then sinking back down, but nothing's really taken root!

If he asks someone how to become a cultivator, there's no straight answer. No "oh you can go to X to do that". He's pissed! How can he become a cultivator if there aren't any schools around to teach him? Deus ex machina, that's how.

Out of sheer luck, SY manages to help save a rogue cultivator, and promptly gets adopted by said rogue cultivator, who gives SY the name 'Xin Yuan'. He is ecstatic. And you know what? It's actually pretty fun!

He's getting to travel the world of PIDW in its early stages, and gets to see the building blocks for the eventual main story. He's discovering all this local flora and fauna that are foreign to his old world and unmentioned in the book, and he's learning cultivation! Granted, its unsafe, newly(ish) discovered cultivation, but it counts!

Wistfully, he thinks about perhaps he'll do something grand and get his name carved into legend. Something that would eventually help the protagonist later down the line in his quest for revenge.

The system remains silent to his thoughts.

But Xin Yuan doesn't take much stock in that daydream anyways. It's nothing more than fantasy to him; wish-fulfillment. He does discover however, that he is positively brimming with spiritual energy. Overwhelmingly so.

It's both a blessing and a curse, as it puts a strain on his meridians if he's not careful, and leaves him prone to qi deviations for the exact same reasons. He already has a heart demon or two from a few traumatic experiences in the past.

(bc hey! angst a day keeps the writer sadism at bay, and all that)

I'll say he's about... eight when he gets picked up by the rogue cultivator, who I'm calling Lin Kai bc he deserves a name. They travel around PIDW up until Xin Yuan is twelve, where he goes through a traumatic experience that results in a heart demon.

It's after that that Lin Kai decides to put a stop to his wandering, and find a place to settle down to raise Xin Yuan in. Coincidentally! They settle down in a nice mountain region that's thriving with spiritual energy. The mountains at the time were called something different, but they will be eventually known as the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect

Coincidentally, the mountain Lin Kai and Xin Yuan end up on is Qing Jing Peak. XY does not realize that the mountain he's on is Qing Jing. The System does not tell him. But he likes it there, more than he was expecting. And as much as he's traveled around, he really does enjoy being in one place.

He has a tendency to go down the mountain and help the village setting up down there, and when he's a teenager he starts venturing out more and more.

Xin Yuan forgets sometimes that he's in a novel, especially after settling down on Qing Jing peak. The system becomes remarkably quiet since there's no quests for him to do and not a ton of opportunities to get B-Points. He cultivates with Lin Kai, helps tend to the garden they're growing, goes down to the village to play with the other kids.

There's one boy he's best friends with, a boy whose not all that good with words, named Liu Zhihao. He's got potential for cultivation though, so Xin Yuan drags him up the mountain when he can so that Liu Zhihao can sit in on lessons with Lin Kai. He drags him all over the forest at the foot of the mountain to go look at bugs and animals.

(One time, when they're fourteen and Liu Zhihao has been learning cultivation for a few years now, Xin Yuan drags him out of bed late one night to go look at the stars. Xin Yuan tells Liu Zhihao about ascension -- something that still feels like a far off dream to many in this time -- that night, while they're sitting on the wet grass.)

("We should ascend together." Xin Yuan tells Liu Zhihao, jade eyes gleaming. Never let it be said that Xin Yuan doesn't love deeply, no matter what kind of love it is. He was always so lonely as Shen Yuan, Liu Zhihao is his best friend. "We'll become immortals, and then we won't ascend until the other is able to.")

(Liu Zhihao stares at him silently, his face unreadable. Then, quietly, he asks; "Promise?")

("Promise.")

When he starts adventuring outwards, further away from the mountain and the village, Liu Zhihao sticks to him like rice. Not that Xin Yuan's complaining, that's his best friend after all, and Liu Zhihao has become a formidable cultivator. He deserves to show off his skills.

He starts making something of a name for himself by the time he's, like, 18 -- although that name is in its baby steps, along with Liu Zhihao. They're slowly growing renown.

Perhaps XY uses his knowledge of PIDW and cultivation in general to help make advancements in the cultivation field. Although the system prevents him from sharing too much, it doesn't mean he can't practice it himself. Perhaps he's one of the first cultivators to develop a golden core. One of the first known immortal cultivators. One of the first to have a spirit sword.

(Although I don't know the logistics of any of this since my knowledge on xanxia/cultivation stuff in general is all still pretty new and google wasn't all that helpful lol.)

Either way, its my excuse to eventually make Xin Yuan come across as ethereal to other people. Peerless beauty SY for the win. Hs wifebeam is too strong, Xin Yuan has a line of suitors following after him and he's completely unaware of it. The rest of history is not.

Demon realm stuff has been stirring up since Xin Yuan was a kid, but at the time it was rare and in the beginning stages. Its been steadily ramping up and the system is sending him on more and more treacherous quests -- some of them mandatory, some optional. SY doesn't often take the optional ones unless it comes with a sufficient B-point reward.

for all intents and purposes though, he's a wandering rogue cultivator with Liu Zhihao, going from place to place to either help a town or village, or to discover more creatures or artifacts (although there aren't that many). Just all around living his life. He participates in a few major quest lines that are sure to get him mentioned in legend, even if it's a background character way.

(Unbeknownst to him, rather than being a side character in these legends, he's named directly. You can't become one of the first immortal cultivators and NOT get name dropped for clout.)

He has a spirit sword named Shā Mó, (杀 shā - to kill/weaken/counteract/reduce) (魔 mó - evil spirit, demon, possession). He routinely goes back to QJP to see Lin Kai, or to rest when traveling has worn down on him and he wants nothing more than to sleep somewhere he knows he'll be safe in. It becomes more frequent as Xin Yuan becomes more famous. Liu Zhihao often comes with him.

it all comes to a head though when the rifts between the demonic realm and the human realm become too great, and the balance between both realms becomes unstable. A demonic emperor's influence, wanting to merge the two realms so he could conquer both to satiate his own greed.

Typical evil king stuff. This comes to a climatic head in a great battle between every cultivator available and the demon emperor's army. Xin Yuan was one of the many who helped lead the charge.

In the end, it was Xin Yuan who ends up defeating the demonic emperor, but the rift that the emperor used to cross between worlds is destabilizing as well. Except instead of trying to close, it's getting bigger and bigger, threatening to swallow the heavens and earth and demonic realm whole.

You know how Yue Qingyuan's soul is bonded to his sword due to a qi deviation? Let's take it a step further >:)

Xin Yuan uses himself and Shā Mó to close the rift. However, it takes all of his spiritual energy to do so, as well as him filtering the demonic qi into his body to redirect it back to the demon realm.

In the end, Xin Yuan and his beloved sword Shā Mó fuse. Xin Yuan's soul becomes trapped in the sword. His physical body is unable to handle the immense amount of power it takes to close the rift, and is destroyed. He is immortalized in legend by his grieving cultivators.

(Liu Zhihao ends up ascending alone. He ascends with the hope that one day he'll see Xin Yuan again, even if it's in the face of someone else. Lin Kai does not ascend, too weighed down by the grief of losing his son.)

Xin Yuan, now Xin Mo, falls into a stasis. He's very confused and disorientated when he regains 'consciousness'. The system has been silent for most of his life, only popping up to give him mandatory quests, hints, points, or to answer any questions.

But once he wakes up, it cheerfully pops up again, congratulating him on completing the origin story of Xin Mo. SY freaks the fuck out. he'd shake the system screen if he could, but he doesn't have arms. or legs. or eyes for that matter.

He can sense his surroundings, but its all like imprints to him. He can sense the energies, but he can't see anything. It's all very disorientating and horrifying after years of being human. Like a sensory deprivation chamber.

The closing of the rift and the cycling demonic qi tainted both Sha Mo and Xin Yuan irreparably, and it did some kind of damage that resulted in SY needing to feed in order to use the spiritual powers. Kinda like how Xuan Su uses YQY's life force for it's spiritual energy, but instead of feeding on his own lifeforce, Xin Mo feeds on others.

The rest is history. Xin Mo is originally tied to the story of Xin Yuan -- believed to be all that remained of the man after he sacrificed himself to keep the realms separate. It's believed that the force of the realms closing permanently infused Sha Mo with demonic energy, turning it into Xin Mo.

But, like many stories do when faced against the tide of time, things get lost; chipped off; changed. Xin Mo is steadily separated from Xin Yuan, especially once it becomes clear how parasitic the sword really is, until they are all but separate entities themselves and the origin of Xin Mo's creation all but forgotten.

The years blur together when Xin Mo is not being wielded, and at first Xin Yuan was agonized by the fact that he stole the lives of all his wielders. He knows it's only a novel, but his decades spent in this life have softened him, and he's grown attached to the world around him.

But time erodes the mind like water erodes stone, and he becomes numb to it, then eventually anticipating of it. He forces himself to remember what he knows of PIDW's plot, and kinda fixates back on his old obsession on Luo Binghe. But while PIDW stays in his mind, his memories as Xin Yuan fall to the wayside.

Not forgotten, per se, but... tucked away. The system prevents him from forgetting fully.

Xin Mo isn't fully a demonic sword either i think, but instead harbors an ugly cocktail of both spiritual and demonic qi. Special circumstances and all that. Everyone just assumes he's a fully demonic sword because that's usually at the forefront, his spiritual qi weakened from the initial fusion and from years of not being fed spiritual qi. It's part of the reason his wielders always end up destroyed by him, other than the whole, yk, 'overwhelming qi' thing.

Nobody would recognize Xin Mo's human form as Xin Yuan other than some truly ancient demons. Of which Meng Mo might. But even that's iffy because there's a lack of surviving paintings of Xin Yuan, but also because of XM's demonic appearance and supposed lack of connection to XY.

Xin Mo has never spoken to his wielders before, not in the same way he does Luo Binghe. He tells Luo Binghe this, and he also tells Luo Binghe down the line that he is both spiritual and demonic -- something he also never told his wielders because there was no point to it.

okay okay i've got to end it here because its already gotten ridiculously long -- of which im both apologetic and unapologetic for -- but i DO think the Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan meeting (and reveal) would be fucking hilarious. Especially if SY has learned how to pop between sword form and human form by then -- although i guess it doesnt matter either way because SQH's reaction is still the same.

And that reaction is internally screaming and going "hey what the FUCK?? WHY DOES XIN MO HAVE A HUMAN FORM??? WHAT IS THIS??? SYSTEM??? EXPLAIN???"

meanwhile from his place on the sword hilt xin mo is squinting at Shang Qinghua in bewilderment and going "aren't you supposed to be dead" but doesn't pay too much mind to it because its not like its going to change anything.

...up until he catches shang qinghua going "WTF" silently from his little corner while all eyes are off him. One moment SQH is standing beside his king, and the next he's been tackled to the ground by one wild-eyed, human-shaped Xin Mo.

everyone, including SQH, thinks Xin Mo is going to kill him. It is a surprise to everyone when he does not, and instead dissolves into deranged, uncontrollable laughter after spitting out some phrase in some ancient tongue and watching SQH's eyes grow wide in recognition.

[princessmaybank]

Never Have I Ever

Pairings: Rudy x Fem!Co-star!Reader

Warnings: Dual POV, Surprise kiss, alcohol, handjob, oral (both), unprotected p in v, etc.

Summary: You play Never Have I Ever in an interview and secrets get revealed.

Authors Note: This is my first Rudy fic and my first fic in a long time! Should I do more Rudy Fics in the future? Not proof-read and sorry it's so long! Let me know what you think!

"Hello and welcome back! I'm here with some of the cast of Outer Banks, not everyone was able to make it tonight, but we are happy to have all of you!" The TV host announced to the camera.

"Please go around the couch and introduce yourselves!" They said extremely excited. "Sup, I'm JD, I play Pope." "Hey, I'm Chase, I play John B." "Hi, I'm Rudy Pankow, I get to play JJ Maybank." "Hi guys! I'm Y/F/N Y/L/N! I play Harper!" "Heyyyyy everybodyyyyy I'm Carlacia Grant, I play Cleo!" "And I'm Drew Starkey, I play Rafe Cameron."

Everyone in the audience clapped when the cast was done with their introductions.

"We asked you, the audience, which game you'd like to see them play, and the answer that came out on top was *drum rolls with their fingers on the desk* Never Have I Ever!" The audience cheers, clearly excited to get all the juicy details.

"Now you guys can't get mad at me! These questions were asked by the viewers." The host lets out a laugh. "Sure, we all know these are the spicy questions you want the answer to." JD teases causing the host and audience to laugh.

"Let's get started! You each get a paddle with Have and Have Not on it. You'll turn the paddle depending on your answer, seem simple enough?" The host smiles. "You sure we can't do anything else with the paddle?" Chase smirked with a giggle, which made everyone start laughing. "Dirty mind Chase!" The host announced. "I never said what for!" Chase turned to Rudy and hit him on the arm with the paddle. Rudy didn't even say ow, he just began to pretend to cry.

The audience was loving everything they were hearing from you all. So far the cast has admitted to pranking people on set, forgetting lines, showing up late, improvising lines, things about childhood, some more explicit questions, etc. It was down to the last few questions at this point. Everyone was having fun just sitting and answering these questions, they all learned a bit more about each other.

Y/N's POV:

I can't stand the anxiety I felt when I heard the next question. I didn't want to lie because I'm not a good liar, but I also didn't want anyone to know. "Never Have I Ever had a crush on-set!" The host smiled, waiting for the drama that will ensue with this question.

One by one everyone changed their paddles.

Drew: Never

Carlacia: Never

Chase: I Have

JD: Never

Me: I Have

Rudy: I Have

My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw Rudy's paddle flip, but I tried to hide my reaction.

Rudy's POV:

She flipped her paddle to 'I Have'...I don't know if I should be hurt or excited about this. I wonder if she knows. I looked over to Y/N to make sure I wasn't seeing things and her eyes were already on me. I watched as she quickly changed her gaze to something different, it seems like she was flustered or embarrassed.

Y/N's POV:

After our interview was over, we all decided to go grab some dinner together. JD, Chase, and Rudy sat across from Drew, Carlacia and I. After we all ordered we just started a casual conversation about wrapping up filming.

As I reached for my drink I felt a pair of eyes on me. I looked up and immediately spotted Rudy looking at me, he seemed kind of nervous and quickly looked away. I couldn't stop my wandering thoughts. My eyes traveled to his hair, his beautiful, soft, blonde hair that looked so tuggable. I looked at his lips, those plush pink lips, I'd love to feel them on every inch of my body. My teeth bit the inside of my lip as I started feeling a wetness pool between my legs.

I excused myself from the table so I could use the restroom and get my thoughts in order. As I walked out of the bathroom I almost bumped into someone. Without looking up I say sorry. Before I could react I was slammed against the hallway wall with lips pressed against mine. My eyes widened as I realized who has me pinned against the wall.

Rudy's POV:

I couldn't keep myself contained anymore. I said I had to go to the bathroom a few minutes after she left, just so I could have a private moment with her. I just needed to talk. I needed to reveal my true feelings for her, I've sat back in silence for far too long. I thought I would have more time to think about what I would say, but instead she came out of the bathroom almost immediately after I got to the hallway. I panicked, I had no idea what to do so I grabbed her and pinned her to the wall, attached my lips to hers. We both moaned into the kiss and that's when we realized the kiss lasted longer than expected.

The two of us pulled away and stared at each other in shock. "We'll talk later." Is what she whispered to me before heading to the table. I hid in the bathroom for a few minutes before heading back to the others.

Y/N's POV:

'What the hell just happened?' Is what I kept asking myself. It came out of nowhere. When I sat back down Carlacia looked at me with a smirk. I give her a look that says 'what?'. She responded with a whisper in my ear. "Your lipstick is all smudged." She giggled and handed me a compact mirror. I hurry to grab it from her and inspect my makeup.

I felt someone's eyes on me and looked up. Rudy's mouth was covered in red lipstick. Carlacia was the only one to notice and you could easily tell by her face that she was shocked. So were we. Before he could make it to the table I pulled him back to that same hallway as before. "Woah- what'd I do now?" He questioned. I only held the mirror up to his face in response. "You didn't look in the mirror before coming back out?!" I whisper shouted. He only shrugged to my question.

I decided to check the women's restroom and realized no one was in there. I hurriedly pulled him in and towards the sinks after I shut and locked the entrance. I grabbed some paper towels and wet them so he could take off the makeup. "Can you take it off for meee?" He asked so sweetly with those gorgeous, enchanting, blue, puppy dog eyes. I smile and get close to him, inspecting his mouth. His hands found my hips and held me close. My hand with the paper towel found his face and I was going so slow, I didn't want this to end. In fact I wanted to grab him by the face and do it a thousand more times. Those perfect lips.. and I was able to feel them on one part that I needed him tonight, how lucky am I? Gotta get those lips everywhere else next.

We locked eyes for a moment. Rudy looked hungry for more. Before I could ask him anything, he backed me up against the wall as his lips attacked mine again. My hand dropped the paper towel from the sudden jolt. Our eyes were closed but I felt his hands wandering my body. As his fingers inched closer to where I needed him most he pulled away but his arms trapped me against the wall.

"It's me right...it was about me?" He asked with a slight amount of pain in his voice. I looked at him confused. "w-wha-" Before I could even finish my question he interrupted me. "Don't play dumb, you're a smart girl. The game. Your answer to the last question..." He stated with hurt riddling his face. I realized he was talking about the game of never have I ever back at the interview. "Rudy...who else would it be about??" I questioned. He shrugged his shoulders and looked a little insecure in the moment. "I've seen how you look at Drew, and I can't handle the back and forth Y/N." I look at him like he's crazy. "What do you mean how I look at Drew??" I was louder and sounded upset now. "You look at him like you want to marry him or ya know, like at least fuck him.." My eyes nearly popped out of my head when Rudy spoke. "Rudy. I don't like Drew like that! He's always been just a friend and more like a brother!" I take a moment to look into his eyes and it looks like they flash for a second. "I've only liked one person on set this entire time and that's you Rudy." He paints a sad smile on his face before speaking. "I'm sorry I assumed." His head drops along with his arms. I'm not sure what to say, so I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him close. My head rested on his chest and we just held each other.

Our moment didn't last much longer. We heard a knock on the bathroom door and I remembered the door was locked. I pushed Rudy into a stall and told him not to come out. I finally opened the door and I have to say Carlacia was the last person I expected to see at the moment.

"Are you okay? You've been over here a long time, JD is checking on Rudy too." My eyes go wide as she says Rudy's name. "Oh - I uhm I'm sure he's fine." Almost on cue JD runs over. "He's not in there and he's not picking up his phone!" He rushed, freaking out about his best friend. "I'm sure he's okay." I smiled but that made Carlacia give me a squint. "Let me in." She sounded firm, I just shook my head no as she continued to repeat her statement. "Y/N. I'm getting in there one way or another. I suggest the easier way." When the word 'no' left my lips she immediately pushed past me, followed by JD with his hands over his eyes.

"Rudyyyy, ya in here buddy?" JD asked from behind his hands. Carlacia moved his hands and pointed to the closed stall that had some nice dress shoes sitting at the bottom. "Just give it up, come on out.." I said slowly. He made his way out and we were immediately questioned. We told them everything besides the kissing and that we are deeply in love, but I don't think it's important information anyway. He came up with the brilliant idea of saying my lips bumped into his and that's why he had the lipstick on him. Note my sarcasm when I said brilliant.

They could tell we were lying and hiding information but they just let it be as we walked back to Drew and Chase.

It didn't take long for us to pack up and leave. Rudy and I decided to just take our food to go so we wouldn't be a burden to the others. Drew drove here and Chase lived nearby so he took him home. Carlacia also drove here and as I pleaded for her to let me get a ride home, she pulled JD into her car. "Enjoy your ride." She winked and looked at Rudy, causing a blush to run to my cheeks. Before I could say anything else she drove off. "I'll drive you home." Rudy smiled at me. I nodded to him as a thank you before getting in his car.

The ride was silent up until now, well except for the radio, but we had been trapped in a sexual tension that felt tighter any time one of us tried to talk. Rudy was the one to break it of course, I never would've had the balls to do it. "You're a damn good kisser.." he smirked. "but next time, don't smear your lipstick all over my face." He glanced over to me with a sultry smile. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips when I heard him. The response I had stopped halfway up my throat when I realized he said 'next time'. There was a next time??? Thank fuck. My heart nearly exploded as I played his words over in my head.

The car came to a stop before I could get myself too soaked from the memories. "Welcome home." He said gesturing to my house. But when I turned my head to look at my house I saw that it in fact was not mine. "This is your house Rudy..." He only nodded in response before he got out and helped me out of his car. Rudy somehow persuaded me to come in for a little while to hang out or talk or something. It honestly didn't take much, I'm whipped for this man.

I was sat on his couch when Rudy came up behind me, handing a glass of wine to me. Before he came around the couch to sit with me, his hand lingered on my shoulder, squeezing a few times. His arm wrapped around my shoulders as he sipped on his drink I could only assume it was some type of whiskey.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked with a hint of liquid courage running through my veins. He nodded as he placed his lips on his glass once again. "How long have you liked me?" He let out some air he was holding in and set his drink on the table in front of us. "Well..." He started, snuggling closer to me. "it hasn't been too long...just since the second week of filming this season." That was nearly a year ago. Not too long my ass. "Why didn't you say anything?" I pried. "Why didn't you?" His crystal blue orbs finally stared back into mine. His lips were formed into a teasing smirk but when neither of us decided to break the silence, his face fell. Rudy's eyes never strayed from mine, in fact as I stared back into his, I noticed they only got darker when he began looking between my eyes and my lips.

Before we both knew it, Rudy's hand cupped my cheek and pulled my lips to meet his. Fireworks started to explode in my chest as our little kiss suddenly got more heated. He pulled me onto his lap and our bodies started to work together to create the friction we both desperately craved.

"Ah shit-" He pulled us apart. "how far ya wanna take this baby..?" He heaved out as my heart fluttered from the nickname. Without saying anything I slid off of his lap while his head was thrown back, gasping in air, trying to catch his breath. My knees touched the ground while my hands ran up and down his thighs.

"Before I continue...is this okay?" I ask with a squeeze to his thighs. "Yes.." He said so quietly I barely heard him. My hands spread his legs farther apart and my lips pressed to the zipper holding back his erection. I peppered kisses all around his bulge and thighs. "M-more please.." He begged, caressing my cheek.

My fingers laced around his belt buckle and tore the accessory from his body. While I was tossing it to the side, Rudy slid his dress pants down. I removed them from his ankles and threw them over with the belt. "These too.." I tugged on the waistband of his briefs.

He happily and eagerly obliged. When his cock sprung free from his fabric-jail, my eyes grew wider. Rudy was big, and I don't just mean 'big' to boost his ego, I mean I am actually scared this man will hurt me with his size.

Rudy must've noticed my stare and concern based on his reply. "It will fit.. I'll make it fit baby." He chuckled lightly. A redness rushed to my cheeks as I heard him call me that nickname again.

Before I could waste anymore time, I wrapped my hand around the base of his thick cock. He immediately grunted from the contact and threw his head back. Rudy only met my eyes after he heard me spit and felt my saliva running down his length. I quickly moved my hand to spread the wetness around, followed by a few more spits to completely cover him. His breathing was heavy, I could tell by how his chest was rising and falling.

Rudy's eyes met mine when my hand began moving for his pleasure. A small moan escaped his throat as I continued slowly. "f-fuck...fas-faster baby..." I pumped him a few more times then slid my mouth around him. This took him by surprise but he wasn't complaining. His hand met the back of my head, he wasn't pushing me, only rested it there, making sure I didn't stop. My head bobbed up and down as I gagged on his dick. Our eyes met, mine full of tears, his full of pleasure.

His thumbs pressed to my cheeks and wiped away stray tears, that I tried so hard to not let slip out. "Don't stop..please baby.." There were those butterflies in my stomach. He reached out and helped me go up and down on him.

Now he was forcing my head down and thrusting into my mouth and down my throat. "Ah..fuck..so good, so fuckin' good." He hissed. My eyes were closed, somehow helping with the blissful abuse I was receiving. "Such a good fuckin' girl for me...c'mon take my cum baby.." He groaned. His hips spasmed as his load shot down my throat.

I swallowed it all down and left his dick with a 'pop' sound. My lips licked at the fluids daring to escape. We both sat back for a moment and caught our breath. With a small smirk and light laugh Rudy stared at me. "What?" I chuckled. "I'm gonna fuck you so good..I haven't came that hard since high school." He said in amazement. All I could do was smile at his promise.

Rudy's POV:

She looked so good on her knees for me. Her hair is a mess no thanks to me. Also lipstick smeared, mascara running down her cheeks, a mix of cum and spit slipping from her swollen lips, once again all me. I saw her catch her breath and lick her lips, swallowing the mixture. She is so beautiful, I couldn't help but let out a giggle while watching her. "What?" She let her own giggle slip out. "I'm gonna fuck you so good..I haven't came that hard since high school." I meant it too. Every word. Her smile was enough to let me know she was happy about my statement.

We took a few more breaths before I pulled her up onto my lap. I held her close and captured her lips with my own. My hands cupped her ass and squeezed every time her hips grinded into me.

Y/N was desperate to get my shirt off. I sat there naked, with a pretty girl, clothed, in my lap. My hands wandered under her shirt, and she helped me remove it from her body. She whined every time our lips were pulled away from each other, which made my dick twitch under her.

When our lips found the others again, we kissed with much hunger and even more passion. What I said in the car came back to me. Something about not smearing her lipstick on me next time. Too fuckin' late. It's true we did like each other, and I'm mentally kicking myself for having sex with her before taking her on a date first. Though we both agreed to this, I feel bad that this is how it's starting. I promised myself to definitely take her out for a nice dinner or whatever the hell she wants to do, after this.

I was thrown out of my overthinking when she left my lap. "What's wrong?" Oh no. Could she hear my thoughts? I squinted and began to think of random things, testing out the telekinesis.

Pizza.

42.

Barbie.

Super Mario Bros.

Y/N.

Her perfect tits.

Her plump ass.

Her stripping in front of me.

Wait.

Her stripping in front of me?!

I was pulled back in, again. This time she was standing in front of me, giving me a strip tease. Y/N wiggled her ass in my face while she was bent over and shimmying out of her pants. My dick was standing at attention, waiting to get fondled. I couldn't help myself. My right hand found my dick and slowly pumped, I was still a little sensitive but I overall didn't give a shit. My left hand reached out and slapped her ass. She hadn't expected it based on her little jump. That only excited me more when I saw it jiggle. Her delicate fingers found her pretty lace thong and tugged down slowly. My jaw nearly dropped when I saw her dripping wet cunt.

Once again I couldn't contain myself. I let go of my cock and spread her legs. My hands squeezed her ass at the same time my tongue played with her perfect pussy. She tipped forward and placed her hands on the coffee table, trying to steady her shaky legs. I felt like I could bust again just from her moans alone. They were so small and precious, my eyes rolled back from the mix of her moans and the taste of her pussy.

Next I shoved my tongue inside her tight hole, swirling it around, making sure I reached every spot I possibly could. Like the needy little girl she is..she started pushing back onto my tongue. Y/N was fucking herself with my tongue. I could only ever dream of this moment.

"Fuck- I'm gonna cum.." She whined. Her legs were shaking as my tongue only quickened its movements. My fingers found her clit, and moved in harsh circles in hopes of tipping her over the edge. My other arm wrapped around her waist to support her when she releases.

"Oh Rudy, fuck-!" She humped my tongue again as her liquid poured out of her juicy pussy and onto my tongue. I swallowed every drop before I turned her around and pulled her onto my lap again.

Y/N took my head in her hands and our mouths made a mess together. Her hands pulled on my golden locks while my hands snaked between us. I grabbed my cock and teased her entrance with my tip. "Please.." She begged, gasping for air. "Please what baby? Use your words." I teased. "Mmm please fuck me.." She whined rolling her head back.

I didn't waste anymore time teasing. My dick slipped right inside of her. We both let out a hiss as she slid down onto my cock. "Mmm.. so good.." She whimpered while my hips rocked softly back and forth. Y/N gently grinded down on my dick, simply being needy. "C'mon Rudy... please..." She whined some more.

I couldn't handle it anymore, so I flipped our position, she was laying on the couch with me on top of her. My dick never slipped out of her either. Before I moved inside of her, I brought my lips to hers. Our moans consumed each other as my hips slapped against hers. "Oh fuck mmm...Y/N..." I grunted into her mouth. Her eyes rolled back and I quickened my pace. "Hard-harder..." She breathed out. What my girl wants, she gets, so I pounded harder against her. I felt her sweet little pussy start to clench around me and I knew she was almost there. I felt her nails start digging into my back which was almost enough to throw me over. "I'm gonna cum Rudy- I'm gonna cum..." Y/N panted. Never thought I'd hear those words come from her perfect pink lips, but I'm glad they came out. "Me too baby, mmm cum with me.." I said grunting as I pulled myself from her pussy. Her fingers found her clit and she screamed my name. That was enough for me as I fisted my cock. My cum shot out onto her, covering almost every part of her. Some hit her face, a good bit landed on her tits, and the rest spilled onto her stomach. We were riding out our highs together, catching our breaths.

We both let out a loving laugh when we came back down. "Can't believe that just happened.." She giggled. "In a good way or bad way?" I questioned. She rolled her eyes and told me good obviously. Just wanted to hear her say it. "So where does our relationship stand?" She asked sheepishly. "Where do you want it to stand? I'm happy to throw a label on this baby." I pointed my first finger back and forth between us. "I wanna be with you..." She said while twiddling her fingers. I could feel my heart nearly burst out of my chest from her confession. I nodded and pulled her onto me so we were cuddling. "I want the same thing baby." I pressed a small kiss to her lips. "Will you be my girlfriend?" I asked, praying that she wasn't playing with my feelings. "It would be an honor." She smiled and kissed my lips with a bit of passion. "Wanna go again?" Y/N asked, full of eagerness. She bit her lip as she awaited my response. I bit my lip and nodded. She came closer before I pulled her down to kiss me again. Never have I ever thought of a better way to end my night.

[justkending]

The Line-up (One-shot)

Summary: Every Avenger has a death glare they've mastered, but a few select someones on the team are the champions of staring into their opponent's souls and making sure they know there is no survival. However, these individuals aren't always intimidating in their day-to-day lives...

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger Reader (Goofy & stubborn relationship)

Word Count: 1700+

A/N: I got the idea for this one-shot from the picture above that I came across on Pinterest and couldn't stop the creative juices from flowing... Please enjoy!!

_______

Lined up in a row were the four most wanted individuals in the Avenger's history. And each one of them had their eyes set on the camera, with a slight head tilted to the side—the death stare of some of the sweetest individuals.

"Who made that?" Natasha said, coming over Peter's shoulder.

"It's just a meme," Peter explained with a nervous laugh.

"What's meme-ing about it?" Natasha quirks her head to the side as she analyzes the pictures, and Peter chuckles at her action- mimicking the ones on the screen.

"Uh, the joke is that it's a lineup of individuals who could end you without a second thought, and they all have a matching head tilt before that plan is executed." Peter watched as Nat kept her head to the side as she tried to understand the joke. He starts to point at the action but decides he likes his finger more.

"That lineup contains some of the biggest softies on the team," Nat scoffed and moved further into the kitchen, continuing her first task in the room. "Have you met Steven Grant? The guy is harmless."

"Doesn't mean they don't have a second side to them," Peter argued politely, watching her have a look of understanding to his comment, and he continued on with his homework. "The world doesn't get to see their domesticated life. They wouldn't find them so intimidating if they saw what happens on this floor of the compound."

"That I can agree with," Nat laughs, putting the kettle on the stove and making a mug of tea before heading to her apartment for the night.

"I swear to God, Barnes. If you don't get off my ass!" Y/N grumbles as she comes around the corner, shrugging her shoulder like someone was tapping on it.

"I'm not touching you," Bucky's voice was heard right after in a teasing tone.

"And presenting Case and his sidekick, Point," Nat sighs, continuing her task and leaning against the counter, watching Dumb and Dumber come in. Peter chuckles under his breath and tunes into the drama as he 'does his homework.'

"I swear to God, you're a child," she huffed, turning around promptly and swatting his hands away from her where they were hovering as if he was planning on pulling her hair. "Get away from me!"

He's laughing as he barely fights her hits and shoves her playfully away from him before going into the kitchen, leaving Y/N sulking in the living space by the kitchen.

"You would think with how many digits his age has, he'd be more mature, but every day I stand corrected," she huffs a breath through her nose with her fist at her sides.

Bucky just laughs and mutters a 'hey' to the others in the room as he moves to the fridge to have his evening bowl of cereal. Why? He liked sweets, and he'd come to enjoy the ritual of a bowl of his favorite sugary cereal on nights he worked out extra hard.

"She's mad because I beat her in a sparing match today. As if I don't do that every day," he taunts with a smirk over his shoulder as he opens the fridge for the milk and moves to get a bowl and spoon.

Peter watches as Y/N stomps promptly into the kitchen and jumps on the counter space, sitting and blocking the cabinet where Bucky's sweet treat is stored.

He hears her get comfortable and turns to see where exactly she sits.

His face grew more serious. Don't get between that man and his sweets. Everyone knew that, and Y/N knew that very well, but fire loved fire.

"Move."  

"You know damn well I can hold my own against you," she points a mean finger at him and crosses her arms as she does it.

He keeps stern eyes on her, but as always, she doesn't budge at the look. "Y/N, move."

"Make me. I'd love to prove my point," she says, standing her ground and buckled down on the counter. Dropping her legs, she leans forward and challenges him.

"You two annoy me," Nat mumbles as the kettle starts to whistle. She moves to the mug, where her tea bag is set up, and starts pouring the boiling water.

"Nat, you know for a fact I can and have taken this man down multiple times," Y/N detests, only moving her gaze from Bucky for a short second to the redhead.

"Yes, Y/N, we all know that. He's just an ass and knows that him never admitting that drives you insane," she replies, dipping her tea bag up and down after putting the kettle down.

"Well, I'm tired of it," she says cutely, frustrated. "I'm not moving until you say it. Say the truth, asshole," she moves to kick him with her foot, but he's just barely an inch too far away.

It was true, though. She had bested Bucky on quite a few occasions, and he would constantly tease her and tell her that he had let her win. She got fed up with it for a while and refused to spar with him since he pushed her buttons, but he was finally able to convince her to spar again... Today... And we're seeing how that went.

It seemed she had won the spar they were bickering about, but Bucky was still not relenting on his endless teasing.

"We talked about this, Barnes. Let her have the damn win so we can move on from your horrible attempt at flirting, and bonus, you can have your cereal and not be a grump tomorrow. Everyone wins," Nat rolls her eyes, lifting her mug to blow on as she kept dipping the bag.

Bucky acts shocked and offended at the same time. "I'm not flirting-"

Nat gives him a look, and he sneers at her before turning to Y/N.

"Y/N, move, or I'll move you myself." Now it was his turn to buckle down, but this time it was because he wanted to prove Nat wrong, at least to his audience, because clearly she saw right through him.

"No. I don't think you will," she says with a smirk on her lips after hearing Nat's comment.

"Y/N," he practically growls, and his hands turn into fists at his side, flexing to gain composure.

"Sorry, Buster. I'm not moving." Her smirk grows more, and she tilts her head with that vicious smile that shows she knows she's won.

"There it is," Peter whispers to Nat in front of him.

"There, what is?" she replies quietly.

He turns the computer around and shows the meme with Y/N, Bucky, Wanda, and Steven lined up, looking at the camera with the look she was sporting now.

She looks at it and back at the two in front of her. Bucky is now mimicking his own stare in that picture towards Y/N. It's like a live-action shot, but the context behind these looks is completely different. Even so, the challenging and deadly personalities seem to be coming out to... Play.

Bucky takes a step forward, and Y/N can tell the fight is about to start. The excitement in her eyes matches what they see on the field, with a hint of intrigue.

"I feel like we should leave because I worry we're in the line of fire for flying glass plates or something," Nat says, walking over to Peter to protect him if that scenario comes up.

"Maybe this was the push they needed," he shrugs, unbothered by the usual banter between the two. "Ha," he lets out a single laugh. "See? No one who sees this meme would know those looks would be directed towards a situation about cereal being the problem here."

"I don't think cereal is the real issue here," Nat says, eyes focused on the two.

"I'll move if you just admit that I can and have beat you on multiple occasions when we spar," she smiles smugly, kicking her legs back and forth.

Peter and Nat watch the interaction carefully and can see Bucky slowly start to give up.

"Say it..." Y/N drags out, seeing the resolve.

"You've beaten me on occasion," Bucky mumbles so lowly under his breath that only anyone with super super hearing can hear him.

"Sorry, a little louder for the people in the back?" Y/N goads him, leaning her head forward with a hand to her ear.

He rolls his eyes and sends her a straight face.

"You've bested me once or twice," he says again, just a touch louder.

"How about the whole truth now?" she leans back, preparing to jump off the counter but waiting for a confession she actually wants.

Bucky throws his hands in the air and looks up at the ceiling.

"Y/N, you have bested me more times than I can count, and I'm an asshole for saying otherwise!" he says and then looks at her. "Can you please move out of the fucking way now?!"

"Since you asked so nicely," she smiles victoriously and jumps off the counter gracefully, walking up to him and looking up at him. "Was that so hard?" she asks with a fake pout and pats his chest.

He blushes but looks away to hide the reddened cheeks, and luckily, she skips away to Nat and Peter.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," she sighs as if her banter was the equivalent of a five-hour trial. "He's about to discover I finished off his last box of Captain Crunch, and I'd prefer to keep my ass attached to my body." Bucky lets out a low growl, and without looking, she smiles and moves quickly to the exit. "Pray for me!"

"Y/N!" He shouts, slamming the cabinet and running after her as she turns the corner like a rabbit who's out of time. "You little-!"

"See, it ended up being about cereal," Peter comments once they're out of the room.

"Ended, but didn't start that way," she laughs and brings her drink to her lips.

"Why did Bucky almost run me over in the hall, and why did I hear Y/N cackling like an evil witch turning a sharp corner to the training room?" Wanda asks, her head still turned to the hall from which she had just come.

"I don't ask questions when it comes to idiots that clearly love each other," Nat shakes her head. "What are you doing here? I thought you didn't get back from your mission for a few more hours."

"Left early," she shrugs and comes in, looking at Peter's screen with the picture still on it. "What's that?"

Peter meets her eyes and laughs. "It's a whole thing."

"I have time," she smiles, tilting her head with an interested smile.

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[strwbnnie]

‎✧ lovesick!chifuyu x hyperfem!bimbo reader : A jealous, pining Chifuyu finally gets the courage to approach you after watching you fraternize with Mitsuya ♡

black fem reader, chubby bimbo reader, reader is a fashion girlie! not really mentioned but chifu studies literature, semi-public sex (I think), kinda whiny reader, kind of a shift at the end. lovesick!chifuyu, reader is a maneater not a mean girl! (jk) Mitsuya & Takemichi make an appearance! There’s like one b*ji spoiler, standing doggy, slight choking, pussy eating, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), excuse any mistakes, MDNI

author’s note: for my bby @prtttycocobuttvr 🫶🏾chile this has been in the drafts for idk how long 🥲 extra long for literally no reason, the bulk of it isn’t even the smut…the ending is so abrupt 😭 but I really needed this out my drafts

wc: 3.7k

─────────── εїз ───────────

Every now and then Chifuyu thinks back to the day the two of you met.

He fucking hated you at first, he’s ashamed to admit. Was it really hate though? Could’ve been annoyance, jealousy maybe? A lil bit of both is what he’ll chalk it up to. It was love at first sight for him, meanwhile you never gave a second glance in his direction.

He started seeing you more as the weeks passed, the two of you had no classes together, but he still saw you around far too often. You smelled just like marshmallows or vanilla, something sweet that demanded his attention every single fucking time you strutted past him. 

It became a routine—class, cafe and lastly the library where he’d find you doing anything but reading. 

Once a quiet safe haven for him to relax with a good book, now overtaken by the clicks and clacks of you touching up your makeup, or the rustle of a potato chip bag while you sit there with your pink Hello Kitty headphones watching some Netflix drama, even the constant sucking and the jumbling of ice as you slurp down every drop of your boba coffee while waiting for your newest minion to finish your homework.

That day was supposed to be no different. You and one of your minions were heading to that same table, around the same time you always arrived. You looked so damn good too. You always did. 

He was obsessed with your new hair color, black girl blonde is what he learned it’s called. Ash blonde with dark chocolate roots and it’s just so damn pretty he’s losing his fucking mind. Your face is fresh and bare, no makeup aside from a dark blackish-brown lip liner and gloss. Lashes full and fluffy, you must’ve gotten them filled over the weekend.

His eyes are trailing your every move, waiting for the glimpse of your backside that never came.

“Hiiiii Mitsu & friends!” You leaned down to drape yourself over the lavender’s shoulders. Chifuyu tries to keep his cool, brows furrowed and eyes almost as wide as saucers as he watched this strange display. 

And friends? How fucking pathetic is that. Granted, he didn’t know your name either, often referring to you as “that pretty girl” when he spoke about you to Baji’s grave but fuck, that made him feel like shit. 

It’s the first time he’s heard that cute voice of yours and it’s when you’re greeting Takashi fucking Mitsuya?? You guys seem well acquainted and it burns Chifuyu up inside, when the fuck did you two get all buddy-buddy? And what the fuck did Mitsuya have that he didn’t? 

He wonders who initiated the first contact, wouldn’t be surprised if it was Mitsuya, he’d always had the confidence a loser like him lacked. He was also very good with women, unlike Chifuyu. Then again, you seem very bubbly and outgoing so it very well could’ve been you who approached him.

“Here are those fabric swatches I was telling you about. If you decide to use any just let me know! I have tons of rolls and I can bring you some yards.” You hand him a couple of squares of fabric. At least ten 4x4 squares that you took the time to cut and string on a little o-ring like paint swatches. So cute. 

“Thank you, y/n!” He smiles. “I’ll surely let you know.”

Just like that, you’re heading over to your table, minion hot on your heels. 

It’s a quick exchange, and it should’ve been harmless, but boy does it boil his blood. God, did you speak to everyone but him?!

“Y/N,” Damn, he learned your name, heard your voice and watched you diss him all in one sitting. It was insane. “You know her?”

“Yeah, we’ve only spoken a few times but she’s super friendly. She’s an exchange student from the states, a fashion major too, we have classes together.” Mitsuya spoke as he sketched out a few designs for a project. 

“This would make a nice jacket.” He shows Takemichi the blush pink corduroy square for him to feel. “Maybe pants too if she has enough. It’d look nice on Koko, he’s my model.” “It would! It’s nice and soft, like velvet! Koko’s super pretty too, it’ll look great.”

He steals glances at you every now and then. 

“Just talk to her dude, she’s literally so sweet.”

He doesn’t raise his head, still sketching away, but it’s clear who his words are directed to. Mitsuya has known him for quite some time, of course he knew how to read his pragmatic friend. 

“Yeah! Unless you’re scared.” 

He cuts his eyes at the crybaby blonde. Of course he wasn’t scared, just a bit apprehensive is all. 

He looks your way one last time.

Your back is to him and you have your MacBook open in front of you watching a recap of celebrity metgala looks. You’re enamored by your fashion content, even taking notes in your cute notebook with your adorable pom-pom pen. You’re too oblivious—too much of an airhead in your own dumb little world to notice that simp eye fucking you. 

Dude’s practically drooling while staring at your tits. It’s disgusting, enraging even. It boiled his blood, so much that he’s scooting his chair back to approach the both of you. Takemichi and Mitsuya watched him with careful eyes, since he didn’t say a word before he made his move. Fuck it, his pride was already shot and he didn’t have shit else to lose. 

You didn’t even notice him at first, both airpods in, now staring into your hello kitty shaped compact mirror while reapplying that sticky beauty supply lipgloss all over your plump pout. 

Before he could even stop himself he’s snatching up your homework sheet, scanning his eyes over this chump’s work. Wrong. Wrong. Most were either fucking wrong or incomplete! Complete bullshit and he was gonna let you turn that in?!? 

“Get the fuck outta here.” He’s speaks so calmly, it’s all the more sinister. 

The four-eyed geek is snatching up his bag and calculator so damn fast you’d think Chifuyu had a gun to his head. 

It pissed him off so bad! But why did it piss him off so bad? 

Probably because you’ve approached everyone but him as if he’s not one of the smartest people on this fucking campus. Probably fucked them all too, so why were you being so damn stingy with him? And why the hell was he so worried about it?

Chifuyu motions to sit down next to you, thighs spread with his hands clasped between them. He run’s his sweaty palms along his pants every now and then, trying to build the courage to speak to you. 

You give your lips one last smack, capping your lipgloss and shutting your compact. “Hey, you’re Mitsu’s friend! Do you know where…nevermind. I don’t even remember his name.”

“He said he had something to do, I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.”

“Oh okay. What’s up?” You finally give him your undivided attention, dropping your stuff into your little designer baguette bag, turning in your chair until you’re facing him. You’re almost instantly entranced by those striking eyes, iris’ the color of sea glass. The dark locks of his undercut styled messy and wild. He’s cute. Real cute. 

“I like you.” Chifuyu has never been one to beat around the bush, even though his heart was nearly beating out of his chest right about now.

“You don’t know me to like me, so if you wanna fuck me, just say that.”

You say it like it’s nothing. Must be used to it by now, constant fetishizing instead of genuine attraction. But the way he’d been pining over you was much deeper than someone who just wanted a quick fuck. You plagued his mind—his thoughts, all you.

He runs his tongue over his lips, not in a creepy way, but because he’s nervous and they’re dry. Either way you still notice it, it’s kinda hot honestly. 

 “I do. I mean I would, but I don’t want to-I don’t have to,” He’s stumbling all over his words and it’s fucking embarrassing. Word vomit, is what Mitsuya calls it, it starts and there’s no telling when it stops. 

“Regardless, I wanna know you–I think you’re so pretty, I like your style, the way you dress and stuff. And I’ll do your homework, if you want. Or I can actually show you how to do it, cus’ if you turn this garbage in you’re sure to fail.” Chifuyu tosses out. He barely wanted to do his own, so why the fuck was he offering to do yours? Was he that desperate for your attention? 

You’re twirling your hair around your finger, head tilted. You’d never had one of them offer to teach you, just always offering to do it just to be in your space. 

“Hmmm..so you wanna be my tutor. I guess, but what’s in it for me?”

The blackette could feel his eye start to twitch, there’s no way you were serious. “I’m doing your homework and tutoring you for free, what the fuck else do you want from me?” He scoffs. 

Greedy bitch. 

“Boy please, I can have any of these other guys doing my homework. You obviously want something from me and I just wanna know what you’ll offer me in return.” 

“I don’t want anything from you, I’just want you.”

You stare at him and he stares back, that adorable face of his morphed into a slight pout. He holds eye contact the entire time, it’s almost intimidating, but his aura is so light and genuine. 

He’s a strange boy, you’ve concluded, but it’s intriguing. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t fuckin know,” He truly doesn’t know, you’re just a dumb girl he happened to see at school. Not the first and definitely not the last, but you’ve been on his mind since he first laid eyes on you. “But I like you, a lot. I’ll do whatever you want.”

He was infatuated and he didn’t know why. 

You divert your eyes, tapping your puffball of your pen against the wooden table. “What if I want you to fuck me?” 

There’s a pause, you look at him and he looks at you before he sucks his teeth. “You’re joking.” Even still, he feels the blood rushing from his cheeks to his cock.

“You said whatever I want.” He needs to make sure he heard that correctly. Was it a test? A prank? Because you’re obviously just fucking with him. “But if it’s too forward, we can just study I guess.”

He’s silent and so are you but the way he’s boring into your soul makes you wish you never brought it up at all. “You serious?”

You nod, batting your fluffy mink lashes at him and as lame as it sounds, that’s all it took. 

Next thing he knew, Chifuyu was eating his crush’s pussy in one of the private study rooms. He’s almost embarrassed at how quickly he fell to his knees, eager to slurp on your pretty, plump cunt. 

The library is old. One of the oldest buildings on campus, hasn’t been renovated since it was built. A private study room was the perfect place—just a windowless, concrete box where no one could see or hear you leaned on your back with your feet in the air while he sucked on your pussy. 

Your clit is juicy and suckable, the pink nub catches his attention the minute he slid your panties down and spread your thighs open. 

He’s used to keeping his face stuffed in a book back here, now he’d much rather have his face stuffed between your thighs every second of the day. 

You’re a sight to see right now, tits spilling out from under your top, panties looped around one of your ankles and your skirt is flipped up and out of the way, away from the mess he’s making between your thighs. 

He’s so messy with it, spitting on it and slurping it back up, licking stripes up your sweet pussy until your clit is peeking out of its hood.

“So good.” He breathes out, spreading you wider. From your hole, all the way up and back down again, his tongue leaves no part of your cunt untouched. He’s dragging up one last time before sucking your cute little clit between his lips, running his hands up and down your plush thighs and belly. 

After a while you lean up and your shaky hands manage to pry those supple pink lips away from your clit, his lips leaving your pussy with a loud, wet ‘pop’. “Waittt, I never got your name.” You whined. 

As if names, or lack there of, had ever stopped you. But you desperately wanted to know his and you wanted to scream it when you came—which would be very soon if he kept sucking on your clit like that. 

He’s gazing up at you with those dazzling seafoam green eyes, silvery strands of your slick still connected to his lips when he pulls away from your pussy. 

“Chif-fuck...” He’s huffing and puffing trying to catch his breath, resting his head on your thigh for a moment. Your hand is running through his hair, back and forth petting motions until his breathing slowed. “Chifuyu. Matsuno..Chifuyu.” 

He rarely gave his full name, at least not to people he held no respect for. But you were different, he just knew you were. He’d never been this intrigued by another person since middle school when he met the infamous Baji.

“Chi-fu-yu. Chif-uyu.”

You test it on your tongue, wanting to get every syllable right. It makes him fucking melt, the sound of his name flowing from your glossy lips is so pretty. Fuck, he needed to hear you moaning, screaming and babbling it like a little slut. His little slut.

He wastes no time pressing his lips back to your pussy, licking thick stripes up and down, fat tongue relentlessly teasing your entrance and dragging back up to your clit.

“F-fuck how are you so good at this..” It catches you off guard. His head is sloppy and nasty, but not too wet with just enough teasing to drive you insane. It’s almost as if he’d been acquainted with your pussy before this, but you know there’s no way. 

You barely notice how your body subconsciously rocks against him, rubbing your pussy up and down his face, your clit bumping his little button nose every single time. 

Your question falls on deaf ears. 

The once bright-eyed boy is now staring at you, his eyes alarmingly low and glossed over as he loses himself. 

He’s too far gone now, lost in absolute bliss between your thighs—the taste of your gooey, sticky cunt, your moans, the feel of your thighs trembling. Pussydrunk wasn’t even the word.

He lets you use him. Lets his tongue hang slack against his chin for you to grind your puffy clit against it. His face is wet and sticky and he’s covered up to his cheeks in your slick. He can barely breathe, you’re rocking far too fast for him to get a breath in, but even still Chifuyu would eat your pussy until he was blue in the face if it meant pleasing you. 

Every inhale is laced with your scent and it’s like an aphrodisiac. Everything about this was so perfect. He can feel the shivers running up and down your body—you’re close, he knows it and that’s when he gets relentless. 

“G-nna cum for you baby..can I cum?”

Christ, the way his dick jumped should’ve been a sin. Chifuyu hums against your clit, groans his approval so his lips don’t have to abandon your perfect pussy again. You can feel every single lick & suck and even the puffs of air he breathes out of his nose as he slurps on your cunt, teasing your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming Chifuyu. Mmm, I’m cumming. Chifu-” 

Your climax hits you like a punch to the gut, knocks the wind out of you and has you doubling over with your hands tangled in his dark locks, your trembling thighs squeezing against his neck. 

Your moans and pants are so sexy, he loves you like this. You don’t even realize you’re running from him until he grips your hips tighter, pulling you forward and holding you taut.

He’s desperate to drink up all you’ll give him, thick tongue gliding over your hole before he’s shoving it inside. Not a drop of your lovely essence goes to waste as you let him get his fill. 

The chime of the desk phone startles you and forces him to part from your cunt. He looks at you and you look at him, you make no move to get it forcing him to. 

“Chifuyu!” The librarian calls, he frequents this place so often that the two of them have gotten quite familiar. “Sorry to bother you and your girlfriend, but the library closes soon-“ She’s checking her watch. “In about ten minutes hun.” 

“Ah, okay! Thank you Miss and she’s not-” When he catches the dial tone he places the phone back on the receiver. 

“She says we have ten minutes until the library closes.” 

Before he can even finish, you’re already on your knees shoving his joggers and underwear down in one swift move. His dick is gorgeous—thick with a pretty pink tip. You’re not sure about the size, seven maybe seven and a half inches. Either way, it fills your mouth perfectly, big and heavy on your tongue as you lick the precum dripping from the tip.

The minute he feels your mouth on him he nearly loses all control, knees threatening to give. Chifuyu grips your jaw, popping his cock out of your mouth with an audible ‘pop.’

He notices a dip in between your brows. A frown? 

A pouty frown on your pretty face accompanied by a roll of your eyes. So cute. 

“Chifuuu,” You whining his name is tearing him apart inside, staring up at him with those doe eyes. “We only have 10 minutes. I wanna make you cum.” 

He’s pulling you back up, spinning you until your ass is pressed against his crotch. 

“I know pretty…I’m gonna fuck you.” His voice is breathy, desperate. “That okay?”

It’s soft but he hears it. The soft ‘yeah’ tumbling from your lips, the small gasps of anticipation as  you raise up on your tip toes to meet his height. He’s sliding his length through the junction of your thighs, coating himself in your slick.

It’s so good, this little crevice between your thighs and cunt feels like heaven. Like the warmest hug embracing him with every push and pull of his hips.

He has to force himself to pull away. He wouldn’t be able to face you again if he came from fucking your thighs. 

Blunt fingertips melt into the plush flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks to watch as he slides past the tight ring of your entrance, a loud squelch greeting him when he bottoms out. 

You’re the epitome of enticing, a pretty bitch with a perfect pussy, and honestly he feels undeserving. He feels his infatuation for you growing deeper, except this is something he wants, no, needs forever.

He’s so gentle, stroking slow and stretching you out just right cus it’s a tight fit. 

Despite the wetness dripping down your thighs, you feel every single inch of him. The burn of the stretch, the slight ache as he kisses your cervix with every clumsy thrust. Your pussy feels so good around him, like it was made for him. Made to take his dick. 

“I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d be so b-big.”

Snaking his hands around your neck, he’s pulling you up so your back meets his chest, rolling his hips so the thick head of his dick mushes against the gummy walls of your g-spot. Your legs are trembling but he holds you up. Heavy breaths against your ear as his chin rests on your shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah? You don’t think much of me at all, do you? Think you’re too good for me?” 

“Noooo! I don’t think that.” He’s not letting up, stroke after stroke, until you’re creaming all over him, and even then, he still doesn’t stop. “W-would never… think that.”

The thick white fluids settling at the base of his cock, the slick gush of your pussy every time he fucked into you. It was driving you mad. 

“I don’t exist in your world,” Thrust after thrust. “But you consume mine, I want you so bad.”

Your brain is fuzzy, just barely able to make out what he’s saying. “I-ah want you tooo…y’know just h-how to handle me baby.”  

“Yeah,” He breathes out. “Of course I do.”

You’re not sure if it’s the sureness in his voice or the sweet kiss he presses against the bare skin behind your ear that sends you over the edge but your climax hits you like a train carrying the sweetest bliss. You don’t utter a word, just deep breaths and pants, a quiet belt of his name towards the end as you melt into him with every buck of his hips. He feels it—the spasms, the trembling, the cozy warmth you coat him in, an impromptu reminder that he’s unprotected inside of you. Still, he fucks you through it, just until he’s close enough-

“F-f-fuuuck.” The groan rips through his throat as he reaches his end, the grip on your neck loosens as he pushes you down and spills his seed all over the cheeks of your ass. 

He’s so unprepared it’s a shame, forced to use the inside of his turtleneck to clean the mess he made, even going as far as to place you up on the table and wipe between your thighs.

“Oh you didn’t have to- I have wipes..” 

“No big deal, didn’t wanna dirty your skirt. You made this, right?” He rubs the hem of the frayed pink denim, recall’s seeing a square of this same fabric on the ring you gave Mitsuya. 

“I-I did. How did you know?” 

 “I remember seeing you sketching it out. Glad it turned out nice enough for you to wear. It’s cute..” He trails off when you avert your gaze.

“Thank you. I’m glad too…” You trail off and you avert your gaze.

“Don’t go acting shy on me, y/n.” It’s the first time you’ve seen it, something akin to a smile on his cute little face, his eyes are as bright as stars as he stares down at you. It’s odd, almost as if the roles had changed.

“I’m not!” You whine. “It’s just strange, you’re strange Chifuyu.” 

[izels-writing]

Hi, I recently discovered your page and I love it! I was wondering if you could do a “to all the boys I loved before” trope with reader and James potter? Like reader is similar to Lara Jean and James to Peter Kavinsky

of course of course!! i’m not sure if you wanted the storyline or just the character-likeness, so i did a little bit of both! tysm for the request my love!💗

also gonna make this more than one part bc I don’t wanna make it super long but I don’t wanna rush it either!!

j. potter — how forever feels ! [1/?]

Pairing: james potter x fem!hopelessromantic!reader

Summary: the stars have aligned and you and james’ futures had intertwined.

Warning: surprise kiss (not in a malicious way!), anxiety, upsetting situation, james potter is a cutie i love him, fake dating trope!!!, let me know if i miss anything!

for as long as you could remember, you'd been a hopeless romantic. every love story, every gesture, and every confession of love in all the romance movies you'd seen were every idea of perfect you could imagine.

except, this idea of love often came with side effect called fear of rejection. so every crush and every feeling that ever developed for someone, you'd never admit it aloud.

so you did the next best thing. you wrote it down.

for the past couple of years, each time you'd fallen completely in love with someone—you wrote them a letter. you'd fallen for them, to you, this was your way of letting them go after the fact. you wrote the letter, pouring out your heart and then some, before stuffing the addressed but never mailed letter in a shoebox and shoving it to the back of your closet.

and from then on, you'd let go of these feelings of love that plagued your every waking moment.

and despite it sounding like many—you only had three letters so far.

the first letter you'd ever wrote was to evan rosier in your first year. before teenage drama and bullshit took over and corrupted his terrible soul, the two of you had shared a class together—potions. he was kind and sweet and very good at potions, always asking to be your partner because you weren't so good at it. it was a puppy love, with him giving you small gifts and offering to help you study. had he not been enthralled by the idea of being exactly like his family, you were sure he was it.

the second letter you ever wrote was to james potter in the fourth year. you two had signed up for a valentine's day hogsmeade trip, where the prefects were to assign everyone a partner for the day—who would then go to different stores and shops, getting into the valentine's day spirit. thinking back now, it seems silly, but to fourteen yerra-old you, it was a chance at love. when you were assigned james potter, you were thrilled. he was handsome and a famous quidditch player, he seemed like the entire package. and he was. he was a complete gentleman, holding the door open for you, buying you a small bouquet of flowers at hogsmeade, offering you his coat—the works. he was pleasant to talk to too, making you laugh and finding him and his stories rather interesting. had it not been for the fact that he was infatuated with lily evans, you would like to think you'd have gone on a few more dates after that.

and now, in you sixth year, you'd written one to benjamin jones—your best friends boyfriend. you couldn't help it, when last year you'd been paired together for care of magical creatures and began to fall for him. his kind green eyes, his sweet smile, and the way you could tell him anything and everything without him judging. he was the epitome of what you wanted. he was a friend, but you were also in love with him.

granted, he hadn't been your best friends boyfriend when you had fallen for him. that came after the fact. and while it hurt, you made peace with it once you wrote your letter.

except, your sibling had made the mistake of stumbling across the wrong box to mail. and your parents made the mistake of mailing the letters. and the mistakes rolled on from there.

and now you were left dealing with the fact that the three boys you still went to school with would read your letter.

——

"they what?!" you blurted angrily.

"they mailed the letters. i didn't realize what they were until now when evan opened his! i'm sorry, y/n!" your siblings exclaimed.

you felt your entire world spin. there was no way you could continue your day, much less your life. three boys in this school now had your innermost thoughts and feelings revealed to them. thing you'd never say aloud, much less tell them.

your breathing quickened and you felt yourself feeling lightheaded. you turned to your best friend, "i'm so sorry, i wrote that letter before you two got together,"

lie.

"i know, i know, it's okay. i know your process. why don't we go back to your dorm, okay?" she replied kindly, helping you stand.

this response eased your nerves a bit, but nonetheless, the panic was still setting in. you nodded, getting up to make your way back to your dorm. you couldn't believe this right now.

as you walked, your breathing kept quickening. you began to see dark spots and hoped you'd make it back to your dorm before any of them had the thought to come up to you.

but realizing your state, your best friend took you to the courtyard for some much needed fresh air. making students were out there, enjoying their breakfast on such a beautiful day.

a beautiful day for them.

she sat you by a concrete ledge, helping you sit properly as you attempted to calm down. you tried to breathe in and out.

"i'm going to go get you some water, okay? stay here!" she said calmly, running off.

you nodded as she left, feeling your breathing slow. there's no way any of them could think to find you out here...right?

wrong.

"l/n!" a voice called out as they ran toward you. the brown-skinned, tall, muscular boy who was the subject of your second letter made his way over to you. in his hand he held the infamous letter. you swallowed thickly.

"uhm, hi," you replied timidly.

he sat next to you, taking a deep breath and likely preparing himself for what he thought was going to be a difficult conversation. "how are you? uhm, listen i wanted to talk to you about this letter you wrote me..."

you turned to james, wishing the ground could swallow you whole. "oh?"

"yeah, listen, you're a great girl—you're beautiful and funny and smart, but uh, i don't like you that way—" james said sheepishly, hoping you wouldn't get upset.

"i don't like you anymore, james, i wrote that letter two years ago. you were never supposed to see it," you blurted your confession. he sighed and smiled.

"oh great, i was afraid—"

"y/n!" a familiar voice exclaimed. your blood ran cold.

benjamin jones.

"i'm sorry," you told james suddenly as you figured out the only escape you could.

"for what?" james questioned, but he didn't have much time to elaborate because before he knew it—you kissed him. roughly, but nicely. for a weak moment, living out a fantasy he'd had at fourteen, he kissed back.

unbeknownst to him, you took a peak and noticed that benjamin and your best friend had spotted you. she chuckled and got him to walk off with her, explaining away the letter to her boyfriend. because while she may not know the letter was not before they began dating, given the contents of it, he likely did.

you pulled away as they walked off. you looked at james apologetically.

"wait.." he muttered in confusion. "you don't like me, right?"

"i'm so sorry," you replied quickly. and just like that, you stood up and ran off.

——

after a emotionally tumultuous few days, you were finally focused back on your studies. as of right now, you were in the library and attempting to take your mind off of everything while pouring your entire brain into completing your DADA essay.

but the universe had other plans for you.

"y/n?" a familiar voice called out. you looked up and felt your heart drop. you hadn't really spoken to him since...well, since you'd kissed him.

"james, hi..." you attempted a smile, but you only looked embarrassed. and to say you felt embarrassed was an understatement.

"you're a tough girl to find, l/n," he chuckled. he took a seat across from you, nodding to your assignment sprawled in front of you. "what're you doing?"

"oh, DADA essay," you said offhandedly.

"i have no idea how to ask this, so i'm just going to ask it," he prefaced, his tone sounding confused. "uh, why did you kiss me?"

you felt your face burn up. "i'm so sorry, look i really am. it's just...you're not the only person i wrote a letter to,"

"i'm not? way to make a guy feel less special," he muttered with a slight frown. "but i was your favorite letter to write, right?" he added hopefully.

"james," you warned.

"okay, okay...but that doesn't explain why you kissed me," he grinned. "did my dashing looks just fog your mind?"

"you wish," you rolled your eyes playfully. "look, i recently wrote a letter to someone who had a girlfriend, and that girlfriend is dear to me. i didn't want to make it awkward you know? so, i thought if he saw us kissing, he'd drop it. and so far, he has..."

james nodded. "makes sense, i suppose."

his mind seemed to drift off until finally, he smiled mischievously at you. you gave him a wary look.

"we can help each other," he grinned, leaning back in his chair.

"and how do you suppose we do that?" you asked carefully.

"well you don't want this guy to think you like him right? and well, i have a problem of my own.." he explained.

"which is?" you asked.

"you know lily evans?" he asked. you nodded. "well, she's dating this tosser, really. she and i had a moment back over the summer and really, i just want her to see we're right for each other..."

you nodded. "you want to make her jealous,"

"exactly! and, if you and i pretend to date, we can get rid of both of our problems!" james added happily.

"would that even work? it's so spontaneous and sudden, people have never even seen us together besides that one hogsmeade trip two years ago," you asked warily. "it's a good idea in theory, but realistically...?"

"we'll plant roots! like i'll say i'm not understanding something and you overheard and offered to tutor me! we'll spend some time here together for like a week or two and then bam, we start going out!" he explained with a grin.

you weighed out the options. eventually you'd have to talk about it with benjamin, but not if you had a boyfriend. and it'd solve james' problem too.

"fine, but we're establishing rules. like no kissing!" you explained quickly as james began to celebrate.

"no kissing? what're you? a nun? surely you've kissed someone before," he chuckled.

you remained quiet, struggling to meet his eyes. it wasn't for lack of wanting to—you just wanted your first kiss to be perfect and special.

"i want it to be special, okay?" you snapped quietly.

"okay, okay, understandable. what else?" he asked.

"we have to spend time together actually, and learn things about each other so we're not blindsided by questions. second, we can't tell anyone—what we're doing, it's so juvenile everyone would just laugh," you added. "and, we have to try to have dates together as much as we can, make it believable,"

james nodded to everything. "i agree. but i have rules too,"

you sighed. "okay, let's hear them,"

"you have to wear my quidditch jersey and attend my games, plus go to parties with me. and, you have to come with me to the quidditch end of year ball,"

the night was notorious for quidditch players sleeping with their significant others. it was meant for sixth and seventh years to attend a ball out of hogwarts, at some other school and chatting with international teams who were scouting for their next players. it was the beginning of the year and surely the ruse wouldn't last that long. which is the only reason you did this:

"okay," you nodded with a smile.

he stuck his hand out, grinning at you. you took his hand and shook it.

"so, we have a deal," he replied.

"we do, now let me finish this essay," you joked.

"yes, ma'am," he chuckled.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

into you

Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.247

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano

A/N: Another one for  @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

You couldn’t sleep. 

The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland. 

You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got. 

For years you dreamed of being a big movie star. 

Much like every young person who came to LA. 

Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year. 

By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it. 

Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.

You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month. 

They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason. 

Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead. 

Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you. 

You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change. 

Not just because they offered you the job. 

No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was. 

You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens. 

And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope. 

But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years. 

You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then. 

He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing. 

But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life. 

So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition. 

Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.

Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional. 

Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone. 

2:43 am. 

Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back. 

In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo. 

You should be beyond happy. 

Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined. 

Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet. 

You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him. 

Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed. 

More than once. 

In front of the camera. 

But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you. 

You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room. 

You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay. 

You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound. 

In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise. 

You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up. 

He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.

And so instead he played. 

And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other. 

Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play. 

His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song. 

When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked. 

You hummed in agreement. 

„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side. 

„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled. 

„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile. 

„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place. 

„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you. 

„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him. 

„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed. 

„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head. 

You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.

„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours. 

„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered. 

„Yeah?“ He asked. 

„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply. 

„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again. 

„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment. 

„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes. 

„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest. 

You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too. 

„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face. 

He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.

„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked. 

„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie. 

„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down. 

„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go. 

„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry. 

The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces. 

„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder. 

„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. 

„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging. 

„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…

You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.

„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked. 

„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours. 

You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped. 

„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss. 

The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet. 

Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile. 

„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over. 

„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him. 

„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready. 

And you did actually get married. 

Seven months later.

On a beach. 

In the rain. 

Without any interruptions. 

[magnagaruzenmon]

Vacation love NSFW

Massive thank you to @pranksterzord and for putting Dinozenon on to this absolute bombshell along with next week’s Hara.

Despite my successful date with Hyewon, she hadn’t texted me back consistently. Granted, her ditzy nature probably played a part, but it still made chatting with her a convoluted mess, especially when it came to planning dates.

That’s how I found myself flying alone to Japan. I was on vacation, not working, and Hyem was supposed to be here with me. But three days before the trip, she informed me of a last-minute photo shoot she couldn’t skip, so I was on my own. Despite our mutual attraction and similar quirks, my time with Hyewon was often spontaneous at best. Since we weren’t an official couple, I couldn’t exactly complain.

I checked into the hotel and sat by the window while waiting for my keys. The view outside was serene, but the real action started when someone sat down across from me.

“Um, are you a photographer?” a voice asked, breaking my thoughts.

I turned to see a stunning, petite woman with a curvy frame and an easy smile. Her big, expressive eyes held a glimmer of curiosity.

“Yeah, but I’m officially off duty today,” I replied with a casual shrug.

“Darn.” She pouted, her lips curling into a playful grin. “I was hoping you were my assigned photographer for my shoot.”

“Oh, are you a model?” I asked, my brow raised. She nodded, and as I appraised her, something about her felt familiar.

The woman tilted her head, scrutinizing me as well before her face lit up. “Wait… Hiro?”

It clicked. “Iori?”

Her smile widened, and in an instant, she sprang up to wrap her arms around me in a tiny bear hug. Despite her small stature, her enthusiasm nearly toppled me over.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” she exclaimed, stepping back but keeping her hands on my shoulders.

“Months, actually,” I corrected with a laugh. “Been busy with K-pop gigs lately.”

“K-pop gigs?” she teased, her eyes narrowing. “Let me guess—running after idols with your camera and forgetting all about little old me?”

“More like dodging managers who think I’m there to steal their thunder,” I shot back. “But no, Iori, you’re unforgettable. How could I forget my most dramatic client?”

Her jaw dropped in mock offense. “Dramatic? Excuse you! I’m passionate.”

“Passionately dramatic, sure,” I teased, earning a playful shove.

“Well, are they at least paying you well for all that dodging and drama?” she asked, her tone shifting to genuine curiosity.

“They are,” I reassured her, smirking. “But if they weren’t, what would you do? Scold them on my behalf?”

“Absolutely,” she said, crossing her arms and pretending to glare. “If they weren’t treating my favorite photographer well and keeping him from seeing me, I’d have to intervene.”

I leaned back in my seat, chuckling. “No need, Iori. My wallet’s happy, and now that I’m here, you can’t say I’m neglecting you.”

“Hmm, I’ll let you off the hook this time,” she said, her pout returning. Then, her eyes lit up again. “Actually, speaking of work… since you’re here and my photographer flaked, how about you step in for the shoot?”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s in it for me? I hope you’re not expecting free labor just because you’re my favorite ‘passionate’ model.”

Iori leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, a sly smile creeping across her lips. “Oh, you’ll be paid, Mr. Fancy Photographer. I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of you. But I might insist on dinner after, on my tab, of course.”

I feigned thoughtfulness, tapping my chin. “Hmm. Room service or a fancy sushi spot?”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you order room service,” she teased. “You’re getting the real deal. Only the best for my hero!”

“Hero?” I repeated with a smirk. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Riku, if you haven’t figured it out by now,” she said, standing and leaning down to look me in the eye, “I only hire heroes, and the occasional villain. Speaking of Say Hi to Hiro for me”

I rolled my eyes listening to her before responding, “I’ll tell him,” After getting my room keys, we headed to her shoot in a black car she had waiting outside. As soon as the doors closed, Iori turned her body toward me, her knee brushing against mine.

“So, how long are you staying in Japan?” she asked, her tone dripping with casual curiosity but her smile giving away her playful intentions.

“Just a week,” I replied, leaning back. “Figured I’d decompress, maybe take some photos for fun if inspiration hits.”

“Well, inspiration just walked into your life,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at me exaggeratedly. “You could shoot me all week. I promise I’m a very cooperative model.”

“Iori, I’m pretty sure you’re the opposite of cooperative,” I said, giving her a sidelong glance.

She gasped in mock offense. “Me? I’m an angel. Aren’t I an angel?”

“Sure. An angel who gets her photographer to break his vacation plans.”

She nudged my arm. “You’re on vacation and working for me—it’s the best of both worlds! Plus, I’m way more fun than lounging around by yourself. Admit it, Riku”

Iori leaned in closer, resting her chin on her hand. Her other hand casually grazed my thigh. “Besides, you know you missed me.”

“You know, I think I missed the peace of not being teased every five seconds,” I said, shooting her a dry look.

“You love it,” she shot back confidently, laughing. “Remember the last shoot? You couldn’t stop smiling whenever I messed with you.”

I opened my mouth to argue but realized she wasn’t entirely wrong.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“And you love that too,” she said, grinning like she’d won.

When we arrived at the location—a sleek studio tucked into a corner of downtown Tokyo—she stopped me just before getting out of the car. Her hand caught my wrist, and she looked up at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Promise you’ll make me look good today?” she asked, her voice softer, almost sweet.

I smirked, leaning just slightly into her space. “I can’t promise to do the impossible, Iori.”

Her jaw dropped, and she smacked my arm lightly. “Rude! You better make me look amazing, or I’m telling everyone you’re terrible to work with!”

I chuckled as we climbed out of the car. “Relax. You’re not exactly difficult to photograph. Even if you’re difficult in every other way.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping her arm through mine as we headed into the building. “I’m gonna make you eat those words by the end of the day, Riku.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said, matching her grin.

The shoot location turned out to be a secluded beach, with crystal-clear waters and smooth, white sand stretching for miles. A small tent had been set up near the shore as a makeshift dressing area, and Iori wasted no time dragging me over to it, chattering excitedly about the theme of the shoot.

“Alright, Riku, you’re about to see me in my element,” she declared, flipping her hair dramatically as she stepped into the tent.

I leaned against a nearby rock, fiddling with the camera I’d borrowed from the studio while she rummaged through racks of swimsuits and accessories. “Your element? Is that just code for finding new ways to annoy me?”

“No, my element means being absolutely stunning,” she shot back from inside the tent. “But I can multitask.”

I chuckled, adjusting the camera settings as I heard the rustle of fabric. “You’ve got about twenty minutes of good sunlight before we lose that golden hour glow, so try not to waste it coming up with comebacks.”

The tent flap opened slightly, and Iori peeked out, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Oh, Riku, you’ll want to take your time with this.”

Before I could respond, she stepped out in a two-piece swimsuit—a simple but elegant black number that hugged her figure in all the right ways. She struck a playful pose, placing one hand on her hip and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Well? Do I look camera-ready?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes searching mine.

I raised an eyebrow, deliberately dragging my gaze from her head to her toes. “You look like you’re about to cause some lifeguard emergencies.”

She laughed, walking closer and poking me in the chest. “Flatterer. You’re supposed to act professional, remember?”

“Who says I’m not being professional?” I shot back, grinning. “I’m just objectively stating the facts.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Mm-hmm. Objectively, huh? Should I be worried you’re getting distracted?”

“Not distracted,” I replied, lifting the camera and pretending to take a shot of her face. “Just… appreciating the subject matter.”

Iori took a step closer, tilting her head as she reached out to adjust my shirt collar, her fingers lingering just a little too long. “You know, Riku most photographers would be tripping over themselves to compliment me more. You’re surprisingly hard to fluster.”

I lowered the camera, meeting her gaze. “If I flattered you anymore, your ego might not fit in the frame.”

She gasped in mock outrage, then leaned in, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Careful, or I might start thinking you’re immune to my charms.”

“Who says I’m immune?” I replied, smirking.

That seemed to catch her off guard, just for a moment, before she laughed. “Touché. Alright, Mr. Smooth, let’s see if your photography skills are as sharp as your tongue.”

She spun around, walking toward the shoreline with an exaggerated sway in her hips. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face as I followed her, camera in hand.

By the time we reached the water’s edge, she’d dropped into her first pose—one hand in her hair, the other brushing lightly against her thigh as she gazed out at the horizon.

“Ready when you are, Riku,” she called, her voice teasing. “Try to keep up.”

I lifted the camera, shaking my head. “Don’t worry, Iori. I’ve got you in my sights.”

“And here I thought I was the one doing the shooting,” she quipped, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder.

As I snapped the first few photos, the banter continued, her laughter blending with the sound of the waves.

Here’s the continuation with a detailed scene of the rest of the shoot, Iori’s heightened flirting, and her big reveal:

The shoot continued along the shoreline, with Iori shifting effortlessly between poses. Her movements were fluid, almost instinctive, as if the camera and the beach were extensions of her. But her banter never ceased, each comment laced with a flirtatious edge that kept me on my toes.

“Riku, make sure you get my good side,” she teased, turning slightly and giving me a playful wink.

“You don’t have a bad side,” I replied, my tone more automatic than intentional. I was too focused on framing the shot to think much about the words.

She froze mid-pose, her eyes widening for a split second before a sly smile spread across her lips. “Ooh, are you trying to sweet-talk me now?”

“Just stating facts,” I said, crouching slightly to catch the golden light hitting her profile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s already there,” she quipped, tossing her hair. “But you should know, Riku, a girl like me has expectations when a guy talks to her like that.”

I paused, lowering the camera to give her a confused look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She just grinned and dropped into another pose, arching her back slightly as the waves lapped at her feet. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said with a sing-song lilt.

Her teasing continued as I directed her to move up the beach for more shots. Every step seemed intentional, every glance charged with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Riku, you’re awfully quiet,” she said as she adjusted the straps of her swimsuit. “Am I distracting you?”

I let out a small laugh, focusing the lens again. “I’m trying to do my job, Iori. Some of us actually take this seriously.”

“Oh, I’m taking it seriously,” she said, biting her lower lip as she leaned forward slightly, her hair falling into her face in a way that would make any photographer salivate. “I’m just wondering how serious you’re taking me.”

I sighed, shaking my head as I took another shot. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re acting… different.”

“Different good or different bad?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow as she stood and sauntered over to me.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted, lowering the camera. “You’re just… really on me today. I don’t remember you being this—”

“Charming? Fun? Irresistible?” she interrupted, her grin turning wicked.

“—relentless,” I finished, trying to maintain my composure as she stepped into my personal space.

“Aw, poor Riku,” she cooed, reaching out to tug at the strap of my camera. “Am I making your job harder?”

“You’re making something harder,” I muttered under my breath, immediately regretting it when her eyes lit up with delight.

“Oh, what was that?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, taking a step back. “Let’s finish this shoot before we lose the light.”

By the time we wrapped up, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Iori stood by the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her feet as I packed up the equipment.

“Thanks for stepping in today, Riku,” she said, her voice softer now but still playful. “I mean it.”

“Anytime,” I replied, slinging the camera bag over my shoulder. “You’re not a bad model to work with, even if you’re a bit of a handful.”

She laughed, turning to face me fully. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But, uh…” She hesitated for the first time all day, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her cover-up.

“But what?” I prompted, raising an eyebrow.

She took a deep breath, then smiled up at me, a mix of confidence and nervous energy in her expression. “I wasn’t just teasing you all day for fun, you know. I… actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

“Go out with me,” she said simply, her eyes locking onto mine. “On a real date. Not as a model and photographer, but as…” She trailed off, then shrugged with a grin. “As two people who obviously have chemistry.”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. “Wait, is that what all of this was about?”

“Of course,” she said, crossing her arms. “What, did you think I just flirt with every guy I work with?”

“Honestly, with you, it’s hard to tell,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough. But I’m serious, Riku. What do you say? Dinner, drinks, maybe a walk on the beach—this time without a camera between us?”

I hesitated, my mind racing. The day had been such a whirlwind that I hadn’t even considered the possibility that her teasing might mean something more. But looking at her now, with the setting sun casting a glow around her, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt.

“Alright,” I said finally, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You win. Let’s see if you’re as charming off-camera as you are on.”

She beamed, her face lighting up in a way that made me momentarily forget how exhausted I was. “Oh, Riku, you’re in for a treat. I’m even better when it’s just the two of us.”

We ended up at a cozy seaside restaurant, the kind of place with dim lighting, ocean breezes, and candles flickering on every table. Iori had insisted on picking the spot, declaring that she wanted “something romantic but not too romantic.” Judging by the way she looped her arm through mine as we walked in, I had a feeling she leaned more toward romantic than not.

As soon as we were seated, Iori wasted no time making herself comfortable—both physically and emotionally. She leaned across the table, resting her chin in her hand, her soft smile never wavering as her other hand played idly with the hem of my sleeve.

“So, Riku,” she began, her voice dripping with warmth, “are you going to admit this is the best date you’ve been on in years, or do I have to keep working for it?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “It’s not a competition, Iori.”

“Everything is a competition if you want it badly enough,” she shot back, her grin playful yet confident.

Before I could respond, she reached over and lightly traced her fingers along the back of my hand, sending a shiver up my spine. “Besides, I’m winning, aren’t I?”

“You’re definitely doing… well,” I said awkwardly, unsure how to navigate her relentless charm.

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that seemed to light up the entire room. “Riku, you’re adorable when you’re flustered. I almost forgot how fun it is to mess with you.”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.

“Not true,” she said, sitting up straighter. “I’ve grown a lot. I’m more poised, more sophisticated…” She trailed off, then smirked. “But I still love teasing you. Some things never change.”

Her words struck a chord, and before I knew it, we were reminiscing.

“I still remember the first time we worked together,” she said, her expression softening as she leaned closer.

I smiled at the memory, the edges of it still vivid in my mind. “Yeah, I was so nervous. You were my first gravure model, and I was completely out of my depth.”

“You didn’t show it,” she said, her voice gentle. “You were so focused, so professional. I remember thinking, ‘This guy’s different.’ Most photographers I worked with back then were either too shy or way too pushy. But you? You made me feel like a person, not just a… well, you know.”

“A model?” I teased.

“A pretty face,” she corrected, her gaze locking onto mine. “You treated me with respect, Riku. That’s rare in this industry.”

Her sincerity caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Iori, ever perceptive, took advantage of my silence to scoot her chair closer, her hand finding its way to my arm.

“You know,” she said softly, her tone shifting, “I always wondered why we didn’t stay in touch more after that shoot. You left such an impression on me.”

I glanced at her, surprised. “I thought you’d forgotten about me. You were so busy back then, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” she repeated, laughing lightly. “Riku, you’ve never been a bother. If anything, I’ve been waiting for years to run into you again.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and I felt something shift between us. Iori’s usual teasing demeanor had softened into something more vulnerable, more genuine.

As the evening wore on, Iori’s affection only grew. She reached out to brush imaginary lint off my jacket, rested her hand on mine whenever she laughed, and even leaned her head against my shoulder when the waiter brought our dessert.

“You’re really going all out tonight, aren’t you?” I asked, my voice light but my heart racing.

She tilted her head to look up at me, her eyes sparkling. “I just want you to know how much I’ve missed you.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and I found myself smiling despite the knot forming in my chest. “I missed you too, Iori. I didn’t realize how much until now.”

She grinned, her charm slipping back into play. “Good. Because I don’t plan on letting you disappear again.”

After we finished our meal, we walked along the beach under the moonlight, the sound of the waves filling the comfortable silence between us. Iori slipped her arm around mine, resting her head on my shoulder as we strolled.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the surf, “tonight feels like a dream.”

I glanced down at her, her soft features glowing in the moonlight. “Why’s that?”

“Because I finally got to spend time with you,” she said simply. “And I’m not just saying that. You’re… different, Riku. In a good way. You’ve always been different.”

Her honesty left me speechless, and for the first time that night, I felt the weight of her feelings sink in. Iori wasn’t just flirting for fun or teasing me out of habit—she genuinely cared.

As we reached the end of the beach, she stopped and turned to face me, her hands resting lightly on my chest. “So, what do you think?” she asked, her tone playful but her eyes searching mine. “Was this date worth the wait?”

I smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah, it was. You were worth the wait, Iori.”

Her cheeks flushed, and for once, she seemed at a loss for words. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing against my cheek before pulling back with a shy smile.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because I plan on making up for lost time.”

And just like that, the teasing, the charm, and the nostalgia all fell into place, leaving me with one undeniable truth: I was falling for my old friend, and there was no turning back.

We head back to the hotel, and we head up to my room. Iori and I sit next to each other on the bed. Silence eats through the room as we try to find the words, but words weren’t found when Iori and my eyes lock she’s straddling me moments later. Her lips pointed like daggers as she kisses me all over. Her voice husky with lust,

“I need you Riku,” she whimpers. Her big puppy dog eyes stare at me innocently despite her demands being not so innocent. After she’s had her fill she pushes me off the bed her eyes are frantic. “Get your cock out,” she growls possessively as she lifts up her dress revealing an adorable set of light blue bra and panties. I lean in and kiss her.

She bites my lips in between kisses.

“Fucking get that cock out right now,” Iori growls again. I follow her instructions and as soon I pull out my cock she tears open her panties feverishly before lining me up with her entrance, “fuck you’re so hard for me,” Iori groans before locking her legs behind her hips and forcing me inside of her.

“Oh fuck you’re just as big as I had hoped,” she says as I bottom out into her tight cavern. I moan as lean around her. she smiles at me before saying, "Fuck take me." I slowly begin to thrust inside of her as he walls viciously clench me. I posseviely claw at her breasts as I continue to rut into her. she moans delirous before saying "God yes. I have been waiting for this for so long,"

I wrap my arms under her waist as I thrust deeply into her. Her big breasts jiggle and sway pleasantly as my thrust send undulations of pleasure throughout her body. I watch as her eyes roll back and she smiles at me grateful before pulling me in close.

"I missed you so much Riku" Iori moaned in my ear. I smiled before replying "I missed you too." she groans as my Cock hits deep into her womb,

"oh fuck I'm cumming she says, as she clenches my manhood in a futile attempt to milk it for all it's worth. I decided to keep going a she comes down despite her please to stop for a bit

"you wanted me to take you," I growl possesively and she moans overstimulated and overpleasured.

"Fuck then take me. Make me your woman," she moans repeatedly like a mantra. So I take her.

Iori arches her back so I can thrust deeper inside of her, and as her pussy clenches me she moans and says, "Fuck"

I groan as we lock eyes before saying, "You wanna have my kids, because I'm gonna breed you," Iori smiles as I thrust harder, and her pussy clenches me harder before saying,

"Fuck please. Make me a mommy," Her words send me over the edge as I explode inside of her. her walls clench my cock as I keep cumming inside of her. she groans satisfied as we both fall into my bed exhausted.

when I wake up the next day Iori is sucking my cock. she smiles and says, "part of you was already awake and I don't think you got a good enough taste of my body." I groan and she smiles before angling herself up. Her massive tits hover over my cock and Iori smiles. She lowered herself and wraps her breasts around my dick. Her soft and warm breasts overwhelmed me.

“Ah fuck. Oh god!” I moan out and Iori smiles.

"You like my tits?" she asks

"Fuck I love them… no scratch that I love all of you." I say as she continues fucking me with her boobs.

"Good then cum all over them." she says as I cum all over her tits. as my seed flies all over her face and chest she smiles and says, "you're my boyfriend now."

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with W Magazine (2024)

Jonathan Bailey has traveled the world to promote Wicked, but there was one person he was especially eager to share the film with: his 94-year-old grandmother. She nurtured his love for musical theater and encouraged him to pursue ballet as a child, thus shaping his career in the arts.

So, the day after Wicked came out in the U.K., Bailey hosted a private screening at a local cinema for four generations of his family. While sitting in between his nana (who had painted her nails green for the occasion) and his mom and dad, Bailey became overcome with emotion.

“It’s a miraculous thing to know that what it came down to is having parents who let me go to the local village hall, and a grandparent who let me play, dance around and sing, and be free at such a young age,” Bailey tells W. “If you can catch a passion and just ring-fence it at such a young age, you never know what it can amount to.”

Adapted from the iconic Broadway stage musical, the film, which is set before the events of 1939’s The Wizard of Oz, chronicles the friendship between Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), the future Wicked Witch of the West, and her classmate Galinda (Ariana Grande), later known as Glinda the Good.

Bailey’s scene-stealing portrayal of Fiyero Tigelaar, the charismatic Crown Prince of Winkie Country, only reaffirms his status as a Hollywood triple threat. In fact, “Dancing Through Life,” the earworm that serves as his character’s introduction at Shiz University, just cracked Billboard’s Hot 100 charts this week. (“That’s amazing. Do I get a certificate? What happens now?” Bailey quips.)

Bailey began rehearsing for Wicked in 2022 while shooting Fellow Travelers, the groundbreaking Showtime limited series that earned the 36-year-old his first Emmy nomination, and the third season of Bridgerton, the smash-hit Netflix romantic drama that made him a household name. Speaking on a video call from London in early December, the British star reveals that he is in the middle of reprising his role as Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, who is expecting his first child with wife Kate Sharma (Simone Ashley).

“There’s such an important relationship with the [Bridgerton] bros that has been developed over the series. Season four is going to be Luke [Thompson] and Yerin [Ha] being absolutely extraordinary, and there’s a whole plethora of new characters coming in,” Bailey says. “It’s so nice to come back, and it’s about celebrating the romance stories we’ve had and digging into the ones that are starting.”

Patience will have to be a virtue for Wicked and Bridgerton fans alike; the second half of the former, which Bailey coyly describes as “rich, bruising and hopeful,” will premiere next November, while the latter will debut in 2026.

How did you think about building your own interpretation of Fiyero?

The starting point was “Dancing Through Life.” He creates chaos around him, like he does in that song, because he’s got to match the chaos that’s going on inside. The challenge that I felt was the trope of a cool caddish prince. He’s deeply unnerved by stillness and adhering to rules and structure. That is probably a sign of someone who’s never really experienced love. When you see someone causing that sort of disturbance, it’s usually because they’ve never felt seen. An organizational psychologist, Adam Grant, sent me a message saying, “It’s a masterful portrayal of superficiality masking depth.” Out of all the things I’ve heard, that is the thing I’m going to get printed on a T-shirt.

The Shiz library scene was inspired by the work of Fred Astaire in Royal Wedding. What did you want to convey in those moments?

Fiyero has to come in and change the physical language and the emotional landscape of that school in one number. His fluidity, ease, and elasticity speak to his ability to maneuver and avoid. He’s quite avoidant. He has these bright, shining moments with everyone but never really allows the other person to land it with him. For those who understand the physical language of Fiyero, there are many Easter eggs and nods to what happens to him later in the story.

Fiyero is at the center of a love triangle between Elphaba and Galinda. What do you think he sees in each of them?

The brilliant thing about the film is that these slightly trivial tropes mask extraordinarily deep and shifting understandings of social experiences. The superficiality, the privilege, and the sense of easy chemistry make sense with Glinda. But I feel like he’s yearning for something more, and, as Elphaba sees, he’s unhappy and depressed. Fiyero and Elphaba can click in terms of the way they sing, dance, and move together. Elphaba has a calming presence on Fiyero and allows him to be himself. It’s a real privilege to meet someone who sees you for who you really are.

Are there any songs from the second Wicked movie you are most excited about?

“No Good Deed”—I cannot wait to see that come together. And “Thank Goodness”—it’s just such an incredibly operatic, Wagnerian opening. We know how brilliant the girls are, and I’m so excited to see the tonal shift that will inevitably happen to get to the end of the story.

You’ve been leveraging the success of projects with massive, global appeal (Bridgerton, Wicked, the next Jurassic World) to return to the theater (like your next role in Richard II).How have you been balancing these big tentpole franchises with projects that feel more niche and intimate?

I always lead with joy, and I’ve never accepted a job cynically. It goes back to this instinct—it feels like romance—where you have butterflies in your stomach and clarity of thought. I go back to the stage because I want to get better—and I want to be the best I can be. The best performances I’ve ever given on screen have been directly after coming off stage, where you hone your craft every single night. It’s brilliant, joyful, academic, and exhausting.

I’ve read more scripts in the last four years than probably in 20 years of working. It’s amazing to get sent scripts that you’re like, “This is absolutely brilliant. It’s not quite right for me, but I wonder if I can help that get made.” I’ve got a producer's hat that’s been popped on a few times in the last year, and I’m sure it’ll be coming out to play soon.

I want to keep working until something like Fellow Travelers isn’t seen as niche. We’re only on this planet for a short time, but if Fellow Travelers can be a mainstream show by the time I’ve finished my innings, I’d be very happy.

The last time Bridgerton viewers saw Anthony and Kate, they were on their way to India to meet with Kate’s family. Now that those characters are married, what are some of the new layers you’ve found in their relationship?

Anthony and Kate are these two planets that have always been in orbit of each other, and they finally come together. But then, what is life beyond [their courtship]? What’s so interesting about Anthony and what I so enjoyed in his season one arc is his relationship with duty and the power that he wielded over Daphne and his family, the isolation that he felt, and the anger that ensues because of [the passing of] his father.

I always said that you want Anthony to smile, and he does with Kate; he’s found his soulmate. In season three, they have that playfulness and, for the first time, they disregard anything that’s going on around them. They were the heart of every bit of drama and complication and, my God, how dramatic it was! Now suddenly, they’re having the time of their life, getting to play games again. They’re having a baby—everything they’ve ever wanted. What’s brilliant is to see how there are elements of yourself that you can’t grow out of. So, maybe, we’ll see hints of Anthony from season one.

Source

[official-wales]

Hi! Ive started learning Welsh a month ago (cant really say anything besides some words) and if its not a problem, can anyone really reccomend me some Welsh media, especially music! Diolch! Greetings from Poland!

Ps. What i really apraciate in Welsh so far is lack of (idk if true yet just from what ive seen so far) articles! Since my mother tongue doesnt have those its so much more natural for me.

Thanks for reading this!

greetings from wales! the lack of indefinite articles is definitely one of the perks of welsh. luckily the only articles you need to learn are the ones for 'the': y (before a word beginning in a consenant), yr (before a word beginning with a vowel and h) and 'r (after a word ending in a vowel)

so like:

the cat - y gath 🐱

the apple - yr afal 🍎

here is the skull - dyma'r benglog 👉���

anyway, enough of grammar. WELSH MEDIA!

S4C - the Welsh language channel, with a section just for learners

Movies set in Wales:

Pride - About the gay activism that defined part of the 1984 miners' strikes.

Twin Town - My old science teacher was in it. That's all you need to know.

The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill, but Came Down a Mountain - Garth Hill, my beloved <3. Oh, also Hugh Grant is in it, but this isn't about him.

TV Shows to just jump in, cause why not:

Dal Y Mellt - The first Welsh language show on Netflix. Might only be available on UK Netflix, but you might be able to find it somewhere else too.

Y Gwyll (Hinterland) - Noir, police detective drama set in Aberystwyth. Available on iPlayer, Prime, S4C and ITVX. Y Gwyll is the Welsh language one, and after its success, they filmed Hinterland in English.

Iaith ar Daith - Celebrities and their Welsh-speaking mentors travel around Wales learning the language and just generally having fun. I used to binge watch this.

Welsh Music:

Spotify link to a playlist of Welsh songs

My favourite Welsh artists, because there are too many really good, famous Welsh artists to mention in one list:

Catatonia - 90s indie rock band from Cardiff. I will never shut up about International Velvet. Mainly English, but some Welsh.

Candelas - rock band from Llanuwchllyn. Mainly Welsh, but some English.

Adwaith - women <3

Nia Wyn - beautiful storytelling, vocals and guitar.

Calfari - they may only have one and a half albums, but Gwenllian is a banger, okay

Hope this helps! Dysgu hapus! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

[hauntedestheart]

A Business Investment (FxM Body Swap)

Another story from the world of business.

Mason McKinley was sure he was going to be a famous actor someday- he just needed the world to realize it.

Growing up in his small midwestern hometown where he was the hottest guy around, it had felt like being the star was his birthright. He'd netted the lead in every school play since elementary school, modelled for local catalogues, even won homecoming AND prom king. 6'4'', a killer jawline, luscious blonde hair and bright blue eyes, literally the poster boy for the local gym… how could Kentucky not be in the palm of his hand? All he had to do was wear a nice tight shirt that showed off his muscles and flash that pretty smile of his and anything he wanted fell into his lap.

It didn't take long for Hollywood to give him a reality check- turned out that Mason was not actually a very good actor, and once he was up against talented dreamboats rather than the wimps in drama club, his star came crashing down to earth.

After six years in the business and his claims to fame were a handful of minor background roles in some long running procedurals, some poorly reviewed theatre, and an embarrassing ad spot for STD testing that everyone back home was still making fun of him for.

In the small pond he'd been biggest fish around, but out in the ocean? He floundered.

While he was waiting for his big break, Mason needed a survival job, and thanks to some other actor friends he'd gotten employed as an attendant at an expensive country club. The young actor hoped that one day a big shot producer would come in, see him, and cast him on the spot, but since that hadn't happened yet he spent his days fetching water bottles and chasing after lost tennis balls. Not exactly his Hollywood dream.

Still, the tight white shorts of the uniform made his ass look amazing and if he flirted with the wealthy old clientele of the club, he took home a killing in tips. Being a corn fed midwestern hunk made him "exotic" to rich out-of-touch Californians, and Mason had no qualms about debasing himself a bit for some cash. A little wink here, a flex there, a look the other way when someone got a little handsy… it paid the bills.

He had his limits though.

"Yoo-hoo!" A shrill voice rang out across the tennis court and Mason winced- luckily his acting skills allowed him to smooth the disgust from his face before he turned around to greet the plump middle aged woman who had materialized beside him.

"It's good to see you again Ms. Grant," he lied through his pretty white teeth, and he was feeling generous so he threw in an extra lie for free. "You look lovely today. Is your hair different?"

It was a stupid question- as the head of some kind of beauty company the woman was always changing her look, in this case from a dark black perm to a platinum blonde bob -but Ms. Grant still let out a surprised gasp and tilted her head side to side as if she were modelling the latest fashion. It was not a good look, but Mason dug deep into his Stanislavski training and managed to keep a smile on his face.

"You like? I just had it done. I think it makes me look younger, don't you? If you're not careful, one of these days I'm going to snap you up!" Ms. Grant threw her head back and let out a stage giggle, and Mason bit his tongue so he wouldn't burst out laughing himself. An attempt at a seductive expression appeared on her face and she 'casually' reached over and gave Mason's bicep a less-than-innocent pat. "And please, I've told you a million times, call me Seraphina."

Your name is Susan, Mason thought. "Of course Seraphina," Mason said.

Her hand was still on his arm, one thumb trailing idly over the curve of his muscles, and Mason gave a polite nod before escaping to ready some equipment, peeking over his shoulder to confirm that Ms. Grant was staring at his tight butt when he bent over to pick up some tennis rackets. He smirked and made sure to arch his back to give her a little show before he straightened up- it never hurt to keep the clients happy.

Ms. Grant honestly wasn't that bad, but she was a herald of destruction, because if she was here, then The California Business Women's Association weren't far behind.

The California Business Women's Association was supposed to be an organization for high powered business women looking to network, but the meetings were really just an excuse for rich bitches to brag about their success and tear each other down… with a smile, of course. Mason thought of them as the Real Housewives of the Wall Street (never mind that Wall Street was on the far coast) and while he got a sick pleasure out of observing their gossip and backstabbing, they were one of his least favorite groups to work with.

Normally a hot piece of meat like Mason could make a killing off of a bunch of mostly single women over thirty, but Dominique Banks (pharmaceuticals CEO and undisputed alpha bitch of the group) made it damn near impossible for him to schmooze. A very public divorce several years ago had made Dominique into something of a misandrist and now she did her best to chastise and shame the other women whenever they tried to engage in any talk of men, let alone flirt with the cute hunk bringing them their towels.

(Mason assumed that was why Ms. Grant showed up early to objectify him as much as possible before Dominique was there to judge her for it.)

Dominique herself descended on the court a minute later with the rest of the ladies in tow, and soon the court was filled with women in expensive active gear (some with the tags still on) milling about and pretending to warm up for a few rounds of low intensity tennis. Mason busied himself offering to take care of coats and bags while also doing his best to eavesdrop on the latest gossip.

Currently, Dominique was complaining to a trio of women about a member of the group who seemed to be running late.

"I think it's irresponsible of her to be so tardy," Dominique said, pushing deeper into an impressive lunge- she was one of the few in the group who actually kept up with her personal trainer despite a busy schedule, something she loved to lord over the other women. "I'm starting to question if she should even be a member of the CBWA."

"Maybe she had a work emergency?" one of her companions offered, watching with mild interest as Dominique stretched her calves. "She did just get that big promotion."

"'Big promotion?'" Dominique scoffed and turned her nose up. "Be serious Lucille, she's a middle manager whose office happens to be on the top floor… or a few floors down from it I suppose." The shade drew a small titter out of the other women, and Dominique smirked. "We all have demanding jobs, but we still make time every month to come to these meetings because it's important for us to connect as women in the male-dominated professional world. We're a sisterhood! If we don't look out for each other, who will? Which is exactly why we need to make an example of her."

Mason had a pretty good idea who they were talking about. There was only one woman in the group who Dominique couldn't stand- coincidentally the only woman in the group who ever stood up to her. But before the young man could search the group for a head of red hair to see if he was correct, a voice boomed out, and everyone's eyes were drawn to a newcomer who was making their way onto the court.

"Sorry I'm late ladies!"

Like a scene from a movie, sauntering across the green pavement was one of the hottest guys Mason had ever seen. He was brown skinned with carefully coiffed black hair and the kind of face that Mason usually only saw in the castings for his modelling gigs- a striking appearance enhanced by the way his eyes burned an unnaturally bright, electric blue. Tall and broad, the tight grey jacket he wore did little to disguise the bulk of his build… and if the fit of his compression shorts was to be believed, he'd brought his own tennis balls to the court.

Mason's jaw dropped, and he nearly dropped a basket of tennis balls with it before he gathered his senses and caught himself at the last second. The sexy stranger wasn't on staff (Mason would have heard if such an Adonis had been hired) but most of the members of the country club were old and gross, so who was this guy? A private trainer hired by a client? A socialite's new trophy husband? Some Middle Eastern prince?

"Thanks for waiting," the man said, making his way towards the benches with a fancy (seemingly brand new) equipment bag bouncing on his hip. "It's been so busy at work with the new startup we're launching, but I managed to move some things around to make room at the last minute."

Mystery stud unzipped his jacket as he walked and stowed it in the bag, revealing a tight grey top that bared huge, muscular arms, and was cut just low enough to allow a tasteful peek of his furry pecs. He looked down at himself and then tugged on his shirt, adjusting it so that it showed even more of his ample chest, which he made bounce a few times. A satisfied little smile came to his full lips at the sight, and when he looked back up at the CBWA, it seemed like half of the organization swooned.

Mason was feeling a little weak in the knees himself, but as much as he'd rather drool over the guy, he did technically have a job to do. He in front of the man and held a hand out, stopping the newcomer before he could join the cluster of speechless businesswomen. "Uh, excuse me sir, this court has been booked for private use by a group already."

"I'm aware," the man gave a chuckle (he was looking at Mason like he thought Mason was an idiot, but somehow, condescension was a good look on him) and tossed his curly black hair. "And I'm a member of the group- Terry Walker. Some of my eggheads at the lab cooked up a new kind of body transferal device and I've been experimenting with it in the workplace. Didn't have time to switch back before the meeting, so I figured, why the hell not?" He winked and thumped a fist into his meaty pecs a few times. "Take the thing out for a spin."

"Oh, body swapping! I think I read something about that!" Ms. Grant exclaimed, and several of the other woman in the group murmured their agreement. Mason had a hazy recollection of getting a note from his boss about something that morning, probably this, but he was saved from having to apologize when Dominique shoved him out of the way.

"You are not Terry Walker," the woman snapped, squaring her legs and and raising her chin like a lioness preparing to protect her territory. "What the hell kind of stunt is this? Did Terry hire a stripper as some kind of joke?"

The man laughed a warm, rich laugh. "You're not the first person to say that but no, believe it or not I borrowed this body from one of the guys who works in my lab. Tariq or something like that? I can never keep track of these things." He kept an easy smile on his face and shrugged his broad shoulders, intentionally stretching his shoulders back to bare his impressive wingspan. "And I'm the real deal- they wouldn't have let me in if I couldn't prove it. I look good, right ladies?"

The man's arms came up into a double bicep flex and Mason didn't know if he should be jealous of the man's muscles (those peaks) or massively turned on by them. The women were having less trouble deciding what to do and many of them were beginning to to swoon, only to straighten their spines when Dominique shot them a withering look out of the corner of her eye.

She turned back around and drew herself up to her full height (she was the tallest woman of the group, but this man had several inches on her and it was clearly grinding her gears) and jabbed a finger at the alleged impostor.

"You can't seriously expect us to believe this nonsense," she scoffed, drawing a chorus of murmurs from the flock of ladies behind her.

A sly smile came to the man's lips. "What do you mean? This is that exciting new project that I've been working on that I posted about it in the organization's official Slack, remember?" One of his bushy eyebrows shot up and he eyed Dominique pointedly. "You've been reading the Slack, haven't you Dominique? I seem to recall you saying it's so important to stay updated- but I guess you've probably been too busy lately to keep up with what's going on with your CBWA sisters. All those patent lawsuits and meetings about alimony must take up so much of your time!"

The vicious barb made several of the women gasp, and even Mason felt a chill run down his spine. In the corner of Dominique's forehead, a vein was throbbing like it was about to burst, but the rest of her expression was frighteningly neutral. Then, her lips pressed into a snarl that tried to pass as a smile.

"Yes, it can be so time consuming being being the head of a company," Dominique said, voice dripping with venom. "You're so lucky you don't have to deal with all that stress Terry. And don't worry yourself about my alimony, I'm just glad I was at least married once unlike-"

The woman realized her mistake too late, and Terry Walker smirked triumphantly.

"No comment on the patent lawsuits?" Walker added, just to salt the wound, and then she brushed past Mason (who shivered at the momentary contact with her large, solid body) and flung her bag down on the benches.

She bent down to rifle through it, giving everyone an eyeful of the tight, muscular male ass that was just barely concealed by her tight grey tennis shorts, and Mason clocked a subtle arch in her back. It was the same trick Mason used to make his butt look juicier when he was hustling for tips, and now that he was on the receiving end of it, he understood why it worked. Mason wasn't ashamed of his own ass (quite the opposite actually), but thought if he had that thing, he'd be unstoppable.

The other women converged on Terry like flies on honey, buzzing about as they all tried to get her attention.

"How did you-" "Look at that-" "So do you really have a-" "I NEED to-" "When is it-" "You have to got to let-" "Where the hell did you find-" "Please can I feel-"

The gaggle of women were all talking at once, making it difficult to make out any one question, but Mason didn't need a transcript to understand what the main topic of discussion was. Everyone was fascinated by the body Walker had borrowed, and who could blame them? A tall, handsome, muscular man with bronze skin and piercing unnaturally electric blue eyes… Mason was half tempted to dive into the crowd himself to get a closer look.

Terry, for her part, was taking the onslaught in stride, basking in the attention and tossing out answers where she could. But her new body did most of the talking as she flexed one of her huge arms in response to someone's question, bouncing the bicep up and down like a softball. She generously leaned down and extended the arm, giving the other women a chance to feel, which they all instantly took advantage of, practically hanging off of the muscled limb like it was a jungle gym.

"Okay, that's ENOUGH ladies!" Dominique snapped- or rather clapped, several times, loudly. All eyes turned to her and the women cowed, drifting away from the hunky man in their midst and falling back into line. After a tense moment of silence, Dominique raised her voice again. "Now, since we're finally all here, are we just going to stand around talking, or are we going to play?" She hefted her tennis racket over her shoulder like it was a weapon and waved her hand at the group. "We'll start off with pairs, everyone partner up."

Pandemonium ensued as all of the women scrambled to grab Terry by the arm, and Dominique was practically steaming.

"Never mind, we're doing singles."

---

Terry trounced the others, of course.

Using the body of a ripped athletic young man in the prime of his life gave her a significant advantage, but perhaps her opponents would have stood a better chance if they hadn't been so distracted staring at the ostentatious mass of flesh that was bouncing around in her loose tennis shorts as she bounded around the court. More than one match had been lost before it began when Terry's opponent's eyes were so trained on the way that hefty bulge jumped when she did that they completely missed her serving them the ball.

The sight of Terry's borrowed body on the court was a sight to behold, all muscle and bronzed skin. The shorts she had selected were shamelessly short, baring as much of the young man's strong, thick thighs as could be considered decent, and those powerful legs pumped like pistons as she used them to dart around the court- the constant action caused the shorts to ride up further as the games went along until they were being devoured by his massive ass cheeks.

Mason found himself mesmerized by the way her body's hairy pecs, which heaved up and down beneath her shirt as she ran, and it was almost funny how on a court full of women, it was the man's chest that was bouncing the most. This only became more noticeable as the matches wore on and her masculine body became sweatier and sweatier, soaking the thin gray fabric of her shirt until it began to cling to her flesh and highlight just how muscular the body she'd brought for the day was.

After an intense final showdown between Terry and Dominique (during which Dominique had been unable to score a single point, resulting her throwing down her racket and screaming at Mason for something or other), the women retreated to the outdoor lounge area where couches and tables were shaded by umbrellas, and Mason did his best to eavesdrop as he served them drinks.

"It's just been incredible ladies," Terry was telling them. The couches were arranged in a "U" shape and she sat at the direct center, leaned back with her muscular arms folded behind her head to give everyone a view of her hairy armpits. Legs sprawled wide of course, just to draw eyes to the heavy bulge that sat between her legs. "I mean we all know how hard it is for women in the workplace, but I still wasn't ready for how much easier it would be as a man! I've started swapping into a male body for all of my meetings and they've never gone smoother."

"You see, men are animals," she continued, snapping her fingers at Mason to bring her a drink. "And animals respect an alpha. That's why they have all of these stupid male rituals- handshakes and bourbon and cigars and all that. When I walk into a boardroom and I'm the tallest, the strongest…" Terry's eyes glanced down suggestively towards her bulging crotch. "the biggest, then men have to listen to me. It's almost disgusting how simple it is."

"Don't you think that kind of thinking undermines the work that we do here at this organization?" Dominique chimed in. Not to be outdone, she'd pulled up a chair so she could sit at the opening of the "U" opposite Terry, and she glared across the space at the smiling male bodied woman. "How are men supposed to learn to respect us when we act like the only way to get ahead is to become one of them? We're supposed to be empowering women, and you're jumping ship like a rat."

"I'm feeling pretty empowered right now actually." Terry slipped one of the arms out from behind her head and flexed it, bouncing the thick bicep up and down a few times, drawing a chorus of giggles from the assembled women, and Dominique frowned. A cocky smile crossed Terry's borrowed face and her sparkling blue eyes glittered in the light, and she casually rubbed at the thin layer of stubble that was starting to sprout on her chiseled jawline. Slowly, as she spoke, her hands began drifting down the masculine body she had rented.

"You do bring up a good point Dominique- I have no intention of becoming a man full-time, this body is just temporary. I'm a woman through and through, but if I can take advantage of the privileges of being a man to get ahead, why wouldn't I? Men only understand power and they won't respect us until we have it. They say, talk softly and carry a big stick, and this…" Terry's hands had reached her crotch and she grabbed at it, hefting the bulge up and down a few times. Everyone was mesmerized. "This is my stick. Today, I'm blending in with the boys' club. Tomorrow? I own it."

Mason was starting to get hard in his own shorts at this point, and he cursed, sticking his fingers into his pockets and trying to adjust himself so it was less obvious.

(A bit of bulge was good for business but standing in front of all those women with a full blown erection was just embarrassing.)

A bit flustered, he dutifully marched over to Terry and handed her the drink she had requested earlier- she didn't thank him, but she did throw him a wink, and it was so sexy on that guy's face that Mason felt his cock twitch. From the way the other women were staring, he was sure they had all noticed, and he jogged off with a red face.

"And there are recreational uses for a male body," Terry commented, stroking herself as she watched Mason's ass bouncing away. "Obviously."

"Walker, that is highly inappropriate!" Dominique slammed her glass down on the table in front of her, splashing orange liquid everywhere. "Sexual harassment is a serious issue, and furthermore, this is a professional organization. Nobody wants to hear about that!"

"Shut up, yes we do!" Ms. Grant shouted, and Dominique was so caught by surprise that her mouth snapped shut. All of the women turned away from her and leaned in towards Terry, ready to hang on her every word. "Give us all the details Terry."

Terry took a sip of her drink, milking the anticipation. As Mason busied himself wiping up Dominique's mess, he kept his eyes trained on Terry- the straw Mason had given her was a larger one usually reserved for boba, but he'd felt a burning need to see what those plush lips looked like curled up and sucking on something thick. The sight did not disappoint, nor did it help calm his pesky erection.

Finally, Walker spoke. "Well… you all remember Marcos, right?"

"Your pool boy?" Ms. Grant gasped, and all of the women burst out into a titter of excitement. The handsome young man had been something of a celebrity for the group ever since they'd had a mixer at Walker's house, and they were always asking her for updates. "You didn't!"

"Oh I did," Terry smirked and popped her pecs cockily. "Quite a few times actually. I never thought I'd get the chance- I just kept him on the payroll because he was pretty to look at -but it turns out he was very attracted to this body. He was begging for my cock and I…" Her hips shifted, a long, lazy thrust into the air, and the outline of the long and thick cock in question made itself known- she was getting hard. "I was happy to give him what he wanted."

"Haven't studies shown that the male orgasm is less intense than the female orgasm?" Dominique cut in, trying to land another barb, but Terry just shrugged her off.

"It felt pretty good to me when I was fucking a sexy twenty-six year old," Terry's hands were on her crotch, and everyone's eyes were glued to it as well as she began to stroke herself up and down through the thin fabric. Her borrowed voice, warm and rich, dropped to a husky growl. "But the appeal is in more than just the orgasm, it's the experience. It's about getting to be the one on top and in charge. I've been fucked by so many men in my life that getting to be the one doing the fucking was goddamn cathartic- and it isn't like some plastic strap-on, I got to use eight inches of top of the line cock to do the job."

"And these muscles!" Wrenching one hand away from her nethers, she shoved it roughly beneath her shirt, the fabric riding up and offering a peak of her host's sculpted brown torso as she groped one of his pecs. From the way her fingers were moving beneath the fabric, she seemed to be tweaking one of his nipples. "FUCK this guy is so goddamned strong! I'M so strong! I threw him around like a ragdoll and he thanked me for it, he sucked on my tits and begged me to manhandle him. I was the man. I was in control."

"Fuck!" A masculine grunt escaped her lips, and she began to stroke herself harder. Now fully hard, the tip of her cock was peeking out of the waistband of her shorts (allowing everyone to see that her host was in fact, circumcised) and it bobbed up and down as she thrust into her own hand. "There's something incredibly… visceral about being able to shove yourself inside of a man, I wouldn't even begin to know how to describe it. But it feels incredible. It feels… it feels…"

And then the rest of the sentence was a wordless roar of pleasure as she ejaculated, grinding her hand up and down the length of her shaft like a man possessed… which in a sense is exactly what she was. The mushroom head of her borrowed penis throbbed as it spewed out an impressive load of semen, staining her shirt, her face, even splattering onto the cushions next to her and the table before her, and she slumped back onto the cushions in a heap. Panting, her huge chest heaved up and down, and she waved at Mason.

Like everyone else in attendance, he stared dumbly at the debauched man in front of him for a moment until he remembered his job and realized what she wanted- usually the towels were only for sweat, but he supposed they'd work just as well for cum. But when he offered her one, she just rolled her electric blue eyes and stripped her shirt off, leading to a chorus of gasps as her borrowed body's furry muscles were fully unveiled. Wordlessly, she gestured to the mess that dotted her torso.

Mason's mouth was suddenly dry but he didn't dare swallow- swallowing was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about in this particular moment. He felt the heavy eyes of the entire CBWA on him as he dropped to his knees in front of the strapping male figure, and the young actor had been in Hollywood long enough to recognize when he was being asked to play a role.

And he had auditioned for enough productions that were basically soft-core porn to know how to play this one.

He casually ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing his golden locks, and plastered a smile on his face as he peeked up at Terry, looking for all the world like an innocent wide eyed farm boy eager to serve like no one was watching. White spunk was already starting to dry in the forest of chest hair so Mason doused his towel with water from a glass on the table to better scrub it out, meaning there was just a thin sheet of wet fabric between his hands and the perfectly sculpted body that Terry Walker had claimed for the day, so it didn't take much acting for Mason behave like he was turned on.

The young actor cheated out and angled his torso slightly so the horde of horny businesswomen watching could get a good view of his own muscular torso as he worked, perversely eager to remind his clients that there was more than one stud on the court that day. He took his time working Terry's pecs, squeezing them slightly under the guise of scraping out some particularly hard to remove spunk, and then worked his way down to her abs, digging his fingers into the crags of her six pack to make sure he got out every little speck.

And when he reached the waistband of her shorts, he let his fingers drift along the deep v of muscle that vanished beneath, teasing everyone that he might go deeper, before he reluctantly pulled himself back.

Drawing up to his feet, he dusted his knees off, and then he noticed Walker's drink- semen dotted the rim of the glass and a thin layer of white was laying atop the liquid inside. He reached for it to take it away, but Walker stopped him. She grabbed the drink herself and slowly, deliberately, licked the rim, then downed the remainder of the glass in one swallow. Only then did she let him walk away.

Terry, shirtless and smug, smiled at the other women of the CBWA, who sat there speechless. Mouths were hanging open, some of them were fanning themselves, Ms. Grant's right hand was tucked beneath her skirt, and an unexpected voice broke the silence.

"How can I try that out?" Dominique asked, her voice strained and almost desperate, and then the floodgates opened and all of the other woman began chattering. Terry lifted up a hand and everyone went silent.

"Well as luck would have it, I'm actually starting my own company to distribute this particular service, and we're working on acquiring some seed funding." A bushy eyebrow raised. "I don't suppose any of you ladies would be interested?"

"You want our money?" One of the women asked, and Terry shrugged.

"I'm offering you all an investment opportunity. Isn't that the point of this group? To uplift each other?" She smiled across the table at Dominique, who for once kept her mouth shut and bowed her head. Terry sniffed triumphantly. "But I promise that this is a surefire win. Anyone interested can message me and I can set up an appointment so you can test the technology yourself- I'm sure the experience will uplift you like nothing else."

At that, she rose to her feet, allowing everyone to see that her tenacious rental dick was already half-hard again.

"Feel free to bring your own boys too, we've got lawyers and payment plans already drafted up. Pick someone you wanna be, and we can make it happen."

Then she walked away, her exit an unofficial signal to the other women that the meeting was now over, and everyone began to disperse. The women were abuzz with excitement, but Mason kept his eyes trained on Terry Walker as she sauntered off, eager to get one last look at her borrowed body's incredible ass.

What, he wondered to himself, would these meetings look like if the entire CBWA hopped on the same train as her? Mason imagined the tennis court full of ripped, shirtless men, frolicking about playing tennis in little shorts. It was such a pleasant image that it almost made up for the fact that he'd received no tips that day.

Shit, he thought to himself, crashing back to Earth as he remembered the rent payment he had due in a few days.

"Yoo-hoo!" A shrill voice rang out, and Mason saw Ms. Grant walking over towards him. She was wiping one of her hands on her skirt, and there was hunger in her eyes. "Dear, could we talk for a moment?"

Mason's stomach sank- he had an idea what she was going to ask him about. And unfortunately, he knew what his answer would be too.