#and going to the theater had been his first time being finally allowed out of the manor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bloompompom · 6 months

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Drive-In Distraction

Tonight's horror movie double-feature won't be the only thing that has you wanting to scream

✩ content: ~5.6k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern au, established relationship, porn without plot, fluff, teasing, oral sex (m!receiving), PIV sex, public sex, quiet sex, exhibitionism, slight overstimulation, come fucking, dirty talk, praise, spit, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only

“Eren!”

The scold left you in a harsh whisper, only after you realized where his hand was venturing. Once innocently on your thigh, giving you sweet intermittent squeezes, now traveling higher and higher.

This was not the place to start fooling around with each other.

Earlier that day, Eren tossed you the idea of going to the drive-in theater, said it was the perfect activity for the season since they were showing a late-night horror movie double-feature.

‘Those still exist?’ you asked him. He gave you some sarcastic answer—‘No, I just made it up for fun’—before the two of you were throwing all the pillows and blankets you could find into the trunk of his hatchback.

Eren had pushed the backseats down until they were flat, and you made a makeshift bed, laying out an old duvet first then layering on the rest. It ended up being comfy, at least enough to cuddle up and watch back-to-back movies together.

But you hadn’t even gotten halfway through the first one before Eren started getting antsy, which in hindsight, you probably should have seen coming.

“What? I’m not doing anything,” your boyfriend lilted, that familiar chime of amusement ringing through his voice. It was the tell-tale sign he was trying to fluster you, and he knew he was succeeding.

But he couldn’t help himself; you were too easy to play with.

Despite your warning glare, Eren’s fingers settled in the crease of your thigh. He traced over it, feeling the band of your underwear beneath your leggings.

“C’mon, I’m bored.”

“We’ve been here, like, thirty minutes. How could you possibly be bored already?”

He hummed, straightening out in his seat to snake an arm between your back and the pillows. He hooked his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re distracting me.”

This was his plan from the start, wasn’t it? You wanted to say it was unbelievable, but it was anything but. Either way, you didn’t stop the giggle that left you; a little one, and only because you thought his flagrant attempts at flattery were endearing.

“How?” you challenged, knowing damn well you haven’t done anything besides watch the movie and debate if you were up for the hike to the concession stand on the opposite side of the lot.

“Because you’re so cute—” Eren cajoled.

His breath warmed the side of your neck as he inched even closer. The tip of his nose fit into the dip beneath your ear as he nuzzled into you.

“—And pretty.”

His lips met your skin and a spark skipped down your spine. You shivered, unable to hold it back. Eren gave a wry chuckle as he smoothed over your thigh reassuringly. It was teasing but gentle, irritatingly soft. After another kiss, you finally allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

His lips—then his tongue—were hot as he left lazy kisses, as many as if he were dotting the night sky, taking as much time as he pleased despite being in the open trunk of his car. Not a single inch of you, from the lobe of your ear to your collarbone, went neglected.

You dug a palm into the billows of blankets to keep upright. You had tunnel vision to Eren and only Eren. The movie playing through the radio was white noise, buzzing beneath the drumming of your heart. Your tiny breaths sharpened as you tried to wrangle in the oxygen to bring your head back to Earth.

“Eren.” When you said his name this time, it wasn’t a hiss. It was flimsy on your exhale, nearly dying on your tongue. He shushed you with soft coos murmured into the crook of your neck.

As your head tipped to one side, Eren caught your jaw, holding you there as he licked and sucked and nipped. He was only kissing you, not even on your mouth, and already you felt helpless to him. He had wrapped you up in that sensual minute, or ten, or maybe an entire hour—you didn’t know. You were lost in the tangle of pillows and blankets, twisting the fabric between your fist as if it would ground you. The inky night had swaddled you, with only the old projector ahead illuminating your ever-trembling body.

Eren’s eager hand continued surveying you, exploring down the hollow of your collarbone to your chest, as if he hadn’t touched these parts of you countless times before. His hand followed the curve of your breast tentatively, waiting to see what reaction it’d elicit from you.

When he expected a swatted hand, he was only gifted a wordless sound, almost like a purr. His smirk seared into the thin skin of your neck as he teased your breast. He reveled in how your body reacted to him, sensitive to his touch even through your top; your nipple perking between his fingers and the patter of your heart against his palm. He craved nothing more than to strip you of it, free you of it so he could feel your softness with nothing in between. This would have to do for now.

He decided to push his luck anyway, his hand straying further, lower. Your sternum, your stomach…

Your shoulder scrunched to your ear in a flinch. “I don’t know, Eren. Maybe we should wait until we’re home.”

“I don’t wanna wait that long,” he breathed against you. He couldn’t wait that long, not now. Not with the way his cock was already straining against his sweatpants, aching to feel you, any way you’d let him.

Every word was laced with desire, burning hot against your ear. They pooled in the low part of your stomach and dripped down to your toes. With every raspy syllable, Eren’s voice faded as his need overtook him. Despite your nervous squirming—and your better judgment—your legs began to spread, making room for his hand to cup between your legs.

He only touched you through your leggings at first, but he could still feel your heat, the shake in your thighs when he pressed down, right on your clit. Already, you had sucked in your lip, muffling whatever sound wanted to escape. It was so cute, how easily you folded for him.

Once he stuck his hand beneath, bypassing your underwear entirely, you shuddered when his fingers met your bare skin. Not because they were cold; you expected cold. They were warm, his skin already ablaze with arousal as he brushed the tips of his fingers over you, through you, but never daring to dip further. It would be easy, if he wanted to, what with how wet you were after just a few strategic neck bites. But he wanted to tease you. Just a little.

Eren pinched your chin, angling you for another kiss. There was a certain stiffness about you, only in your lips; the rest of you couldn’t stay still. Between kisses and your little gasps, you whispered, “We’re going to get caught.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

On sheer coincidence (or the universe’s knack for impeccable timing), a blood-curdling shriek blared through the radio and tore straight through the tension in the car. You lurched forward, sitting up as tall as if a teacher had smacked your desk while nodding off—or if someone had caught you with your boyfriend’s hand down your pants.

“Someone’s jumpy,” Eren poked. You dropped your hand from your chest, ready to shove him away, when he held your face again. He brought you back to him in an attempt to quell your rampant anxiety. “Seriously, no one’s gonna come this way. Don’t worry.”

Your eyes flitted from his face, to the screen, then back to him. Through squished cheeks, you asked, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

He punctuated it with a kiss on the tip of your nose, then one on your lips. He tilted into you with his hand curving around the back of your head. Immediately, you were his, opening your mouth and tempting his tongue to find yours.

His fingers effortlessly return to your clit. He began to rub circles, slow at first, feeling how soft you were, how your swollen, needy pussy gave beneath. You started to pant harder against him, your moving lips growing erratic. He tightened his circles, quickening them and playing your body as though it were an instrument he’d mastered, knowing which touches had you quivering and which had you whining—most importantly, which would make you come the quickest.

Your hips wiggled against his hand, angling and trying to get more out of him. You wanted him inside you, and you wanted it badly.

As you expected, you felt his breathy laugh against your mouth. “See? Not so scary now, is it?”

Even if you were to humor the question, you wouldn’t have had the chance to before he parted you and pushed a finger inside. A small sound left you, again when he began to drag his finger in and out of you, curling it just the right way. You had to stay quiet. Your throat tightened, desperate to keep your tiny whines from turning into bleats bursting from your chest. You were only capable of a whisper of, “More,” mumbly and wet against his mouth.

Eren maintained his composure, smartly asking, “Feels good, huh?”

He already knew the answer; he didn’t need to ask. He only did it for his own benefit, pining to hear it come from you. To take in the sounds of your croons and cries as you plead for him again and tuck them away for later.

He didn’t wait for your answer; he didn’t have the restraint for it. Eren inserted a second finger, always willing to please his girlfriend, giving her whatever she wanted, even when she was an incoherent mess—especially when she was an incoherent mess.

Once he did, he could practically taste the lust on your tongue, delving deeper and spilling into his mouth. The kiss, if one could call it that, turned shameless clumsy, his fingers pumping until he reached the pace that had you fluttering around his knuckles.

You were lost in a swirl of heady breaths, the air of the trunk growing thick and coiling around you with your lower half sweltering under the blankets. Still, you managed to lift them and reach a hand beneath, caressing over the top of Eren’s thigh. The muscle tensed as you went, grazing up his leg just as he had with you.

You palmed over the front of his sweats, again when you realized how hard he had been for you. His abdomen flexed and relaxed. There was a delicious relief in your touch, even if plenty of layers still separated you. Too many for Eren’s liking.

Riled up beyond belief, it only took a few chaste strokes before Eren was lifting his hips to meet you, instinctively working his cock against your hand in search of more pressure—more anything.

Of course, the heavy petting was fun, but think of how much more fun you could have. Not fooling and fumbling like teenagers who snuck into an R-rated movie, but upping the ante, seeing truly how far you could go without getting caught.

A little risk never scared him off before.

Eren pulled away to catch his breath, smiling at you all big with this wicked look on his face; the look of a winner. He had taken you by both wrists and dragged you along with him, following wherever he led you. In his hands, you were like putty or dough or clay—you were no more than something waiting to be warmed and molded in whichever way he desired, crafted to fit him and only him.

But you were more than willing. And luckily for you, Eren was just as malleable in your delicate hands. Neither of you could turn back now, even if you wanted to.

The flashing screen cast a cool light on the side of your face, catching the sheen of your bottom lip. What was left of your kiss was wiped away by Eren as he thumbed over it.

“You wanna do this?” he asked, still with that same sideways grin.

You nodded excitedly, emphasized it by tugging down his waistband. His hands only left you to help, one shuffling his sweatpants lower while the other expertly held the blanket over your laps.

The blanket was fleecy and thick, opaque enough to block out any lights. You could barely see a thing, but you do make out the way his cock slapped against his lower abs once you had his boxers down. You reached for him, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes flickered to the screen, then downward once more. Not a soul in sight—or at least, you weren’t in their sights.

You took him in your hand and even that, the feeling of your fingertips grazing him, made his breathing stutter. When you wrapped your fingers around him, slightly tightening your grip, you only had to pump a few slow times before you thought you could feel his heartbeat in his cock.

Eren lifted the blanket high enough to steal a peek at your hand on him. He watched the fluid movement of your wrist, up and down, quickening after you thumbed over his tip, slick with precome.

He couldn’t think of a time he’d been this turned on by a hand job, probably not since his first one. Each time his eyelids lidded, he’d have to force them back open to scan the surroundings, just in case. You were a bit preoccupied to care, his hand back where it belonged as he fucked you with his fingers. It made it hard for you to focus on much else, your jaw already falling ever so slack.

Even Eren had to admit the inherent risk had his heart thumping faster. But unlike you, it didn’t frighten him. It exhilarated him. He found himself already fighting back the urge to come from the thrill alone. All the while, you had this nervous tremble in your hand, as if you were this innocent little thing; he knew better than to believe that. Still, he found you extremely endearing, only making it harder for him to not pin you down and ruin you right there. Imagine how cute you would look if you were to really get caught.

Each time he stuffed his fingers inside you fully, your steady hand would stagger. Your effort was put towards jerking him off, but your concentration faltered so effortlessly; you were never one for multitasking. Especially when Eren’s huffs through his nose turned ragged each time you paid extra attention to the tip of his cock, palming and squeezing gently.

“God, I wanna taste you so badly right now,” Eren exhaled. His cock throbbed at the thought.

You tried to respond, but his fingers were unrelenting, thick and dragging against your walls in a way you could only describe as lewd. The pace, the sound—the fact that the crotch of your leggings was soaked through.

“Ah-hah.” You swallowed hard. “A-absolutely not. People will see.”

You didn’t know how it would even work in such a tight space—with plenty of head bumps and leg cramps, you supposed.

“Hm,” Eren muttered, seemingly unhappy with your answer. His fingers slipped from you, collected some of your wetness, then began flicking over your clit. It yanked another sound from you, absolutely pathetic and ripped from the very depths of your throat.

His fingers were drenched in your arousal, smooth and slick, trained on your undoing. He stopped short of it, slithering his hand from your leggings and bringing them to your mouth.

“Guess this will have to do,” he told you just before sucking them, savoring your sweetness on his tongue, “until we get home.”

Eren’s brazen ways never ceased to ruffle you. Your cheeks flared hot, even more once he wrapped his wetted fingers around his length, jerking himself off. Making a show of it, too. The slippery sound of him coating his cock with you, darkened eyes locked onto yours. Little groans fell from him, lips slightly parted like he was high off you.

Ripples of electricity pulsed through you, encouraged you, while your thighs could only clench at the sight. He didn’t even need to touch you for you to fall apart. But just because he couldn’t touch you the way he wanted—couldn’t taste you—didn’t mean you couldn’t.

You perched to your knees and dove under the blanket. Before he could even blink, you had his cock upright in your hand, lapping up the length of it.

“Shit,” he hissed, way louder than he should have.

You poked your head out, still playing with him in your hand. “This is why I didn’t want to do this.”

“I—sorry.” Eren’s voice was off-kilter, his hips twitching unwittingly with your lips mere centimeters from the tip of his cock. “I’ll shut up. Just—keep going. Please.”

You saw the needy look in his eye, and a smile crossed your face. You decided to steal from his bag of tricks, lightly pestering, “Gonna be quiet for me?”

You licked your lips before darting your tongue along his head. He groaned, first in annoyance, but it tapered into a fervorous sound, sultry to your ears. You gazed up at him with big eyes, lashes batting, and waited for him to say anything.

The sight of your pretty face, his cock against your pretty, pink tongue, had him muttering, “Fuck me.”

“Maybe later.” You winked and finally started to take him into your mouth. You heard the thud his head gave as it hit the back of the car seat.

With every bob of your head, you swallowed more of him down your throat. It made your mouth water, had saliva dripping down the length of him and over your fist as you worked the base of his cock.

You had your eyes shut and your attention fixed on Eren and nothing but Eren. Everything else might as well have faded to black. Your ears thrummed with the husky sound of his voice, whispering curses each time you wrapped your lips around him and hollowed your cheeks. You only felt his hand on you, fingertips tickling from between your shoulder blades to your tailbone. He palmed over your ass, groping the fat of it, and had you moaning around his cock. He must have felt it, the vibrating hum of your throat, because the blunt of his nails dug into your skin as if your leggings weren’t even there.

You only popped up when you heard laughter. It was distant, but still enough to make your stomach drop.

“No one can see us right?” you asked through scarce breaths. You turned to look out, crooked your head from side to side, searching for any lurking eyes, but you only saw the cars parked in front of you, entirely unchanged.

Eren leered down at you. Your eyes were wet; the corners of them caught what little light there was. Each time you blinked, a tear threatened to break your waterline as though it were a dam. There was spit on your chin, your lips were cock and kiss-swollen and slick, and dear God did he want to take a picture.

He gulped, only mumbling a dazy, “You’re good.”

You decided to trust him. Before he knew it, you had him back in your mouth, right where you had left off. You focused on breathing through your nose to hold back a gag as you took as much of his length as you could. You swallowed and sucked, and each time he nudged the back of your throat, it’d tighten around him and make his stomach clench. And when your nose finally brushed against his pelvis, you felt him shiver, his hand balling the fabric of your shirt in his hand.

This was when Eren would normally talk you through it. Sugar-coated praises sprinkled between all the dirty things he wanted you to do. Gag on it, choke on it, grunting while he fucked your mouth and babbling about you how beautiful you look while taking him, only him. Obscenities you shouldn’t love but did, each one always warming your chest with that fuzzy-duckling feeling, even though you were in the wolf’s clutches. You missed hearing him, but if you gagged now, it would be too loud, and Eren had already promised you he’d shut up.

Honestly, you were impressed he could bite his tongue even this long. This was the most you’d ever seen him hold back; he was more so the give-it-his-all type, lacking any sort of restraint. You wouldn't think he’d ever heard of the word ‘self-control’ before—which was exactly why you never did anything like this in the past. Never fucking when his previous roommate was home or when you’d visit his parents, even if he begged for it. You knew you’d never be able to look them in the eyes afterward.

You were sure he was only quiet now, besides small groans and tight breaths, because the consequence was that his cock would lose the wet heat of your mouth. No, he couldn’t let himself go right now, not entirely, and it probably felt like a cruel trick he played on himself.

But Eren didn’t need to say a single thing for you to know exactly what he was thinking. You could feel it in the way you held his eyes, like you were too captivating to look away. And whenever your hair fell and blocked his view—a view wouldn’t dare go a second without—he’d dotingly pet it away from your face.

And you certainly didn’t need to question it when he breathed, “God, I fucking love you,” with his head thrown back in ecstasy, your name like a shiver surging through him.

Then, the Eren you knew, and loved, returned.

“Fuck, I need you.”

He said it as though he was submitting, like his carnal impulses had finally bested him—as if they already hadn’t from the moment he got handsy with you, kissing your neck.

He pulled you off his cock, and you choked for air in surprise. His hands immediately went for your leggings, removing them, along with your underwear, in one quick tug.

You squealed—for a lot of reasons, actually. The crisp night air against your bare skin. The lack of consideration he had for your whereabouts. You snatched the blanket to shield yourself, your eyes darting every which way to see if anyone noticed.

Eren’s hands were heavy against the grooves of your skin, weighed down with hunger as he repositioned you to his liking. He had you straddling his lap in reverse, like he thought you wanted to watch the movie while he fucked you.

“That way you can keep watch,” You could hear the cheeky grin in his voice, “so you don’t have to be so nervous.”

You half-laughed because it wasn’t much better at all. It only made you feel dirtier for what you were about to do. That wasn’t about to stop you, though. You could feel his cock, hot and glazed in your spit, against your thigh, and you could only think about how much you wanted it inside you.

“What if the car starts to shake?” you asked.

His hands smoothed down your back until he pinched your ass. When you startled, he only chuckled, “Damn, how hard were you planning on going?”

Eren shoved a hand between your legs. He glided his fingers along your slit, relishing the little wiggle you gave in response. By the time the pads of his fingers met your clit, they were slick, rubbing and slipping against you.

“Eren, please. We don’t have time for this,” you said, but it was hardly a warning. Your voice warbled, the end of it getting pitchy with pleasure. You could pretend all you wanted, but you loved it, every drawn-out second of it.

He could imagine the look of anticipation on your face. You were probably gnawing on your bottom lip, your nose scrunching cutely every time he dared to dip inside you, but only because you were hoping it’d be his cock instead of his fingers.

You had the blanket clutched to you, your grip tightening as he continued to toy with you. Shame heatedly prickled down your neck—shame for how utterly shameless you felt about the situation.

Eren grabbed your ass with both hands, spreading you as he debated thrusting inside you then. He wanted nothing more than to give your cheek a resounding slap with an open palm. He opted for his cock instead, slapping the head of it against you a few times.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, almost as if he didn’t know if he was talking to you or himself.

Your heart was hammering against your ribcage, so hard that you thought it wanted to break free. You were running on nothing but adrenaline, an intoxicating concoction of danger and being unbelievably turned on by said danger.

Eren always enjoyed the reaction he’d pull from you whenever he’d first slide his cock into you; it hadn’t changed since the first time you had sex. A sharp inhale through your nose, your mouth dropping into a tiny ‘O.’ Your eyes would squeeze close only to flutter back open, but he couldn’t see that part now. And if you could manage it, you’d grab onto him wherever you could. Tonight, you dug your nails into his left thigh. He hardly felt it, more transfixed on the way you tightened around the head of his cock.

He waited for your clench to relax before sinking you down onto him, lower. Choppy moans left the both of you right when your ass was smushed against his pelvis, when he was buried inside you fully. And again, only from Eren, when you started to move before he could.

You took him with long strokes, every inch of him dragging in and out of you with his tip nearly kissing your entrance before you’d repeat it, again and again. Your movements were far from smooth, your legs straining, and your breath still caught up in your throat. But once you realized nothing had changed—the movie was still playing, and not so much as a headlight flicked on—you began to bounce on your knees.

It wasn’t long before the sound of sex began to reverberate off the walls and fill the cramped trunk. The salacious smacking of skin on skin, all those little pants spilling from you, ones you couldn’t stifle no matter how tightly you sealed your lips. So long as everyone still had their radios on, there was no way they could hear you. That was what you told yourself, repeating it with every roll of your hips. Even if they could, you couldn’t find it within you to stop now.

Eren splayed a hand against your lower back, slipping it until it flattened against your stomach. He held you upright as you continued taking his cock; it looked less conspicuous that way, if that were even possible.

The new angle stole a gasp from you, your release already building, a rapturous bloom you could feel in every part of your body. Your toes threatening to curl, thighs shaking like you had just run a marathon. Your shirt clung to you, your sweat like a film across your skin. Inside, you were on the verge of bursting into flames, but on the outside, goosebumps scattered your skin, your sweat like ice in the autumn air. It was almost too much. Too much, but so good. The only thing you could do was keep going with your hand sealed over your mouth.

Of course it went to Eren’s head. He loved it, seeing you physically have to restrain yourself from crying out. But there would be time for that later, when you’d really need it while coming on his cock. Right now, he still wanted to hear you, see just how far he could bend you before you broke.

He kept his voice low while he demanded, “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

Your hand remained firmly over your mouth.

Eren wrapped his hand around your elbow and forced your arm to your side. You gave a short ‘ah,’ finally able to get a full breath.

He asked again, “It’s all mine, right?”

“Yours,” you whispered, quiet, but Eren could still make out the whine in it. “Yours. It’s all yours.”

If you could see it, you would have smacked that lopsided smirk right off his face. Thankfully for him, you couldn’t. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to look at you.

“I—shit,” he hissed, interrupted by another rock of your hips. He couldn’t bring himself to stop you, practically hypnotized by every jiggle of your ass, but after a couple of seconds passed, he continued, “Need to see you. C’mere.”

Eren lifted you off him, turning you as you swung your leg around to straddle him. You draped the blanket over your back, pinning one of its corners to your chest.

He guided you back down on his cock with hands on your hipbones, thumbing small circles against you.

When your eyes met, a smile warmed his face. “There’s my girl.”

He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, with you nuzzling into him like a kitten.

Eren led this time, holding you there for him to fuck into. He was slow at first, taking you with languid thrusts, letting himself readjust to you before he started pounding into you with hips rising off the floor. From there, well, it quickly spiraled into frenzied fucking, a mad dash in which you were both racing towards your releases.

He shoved your shirt over your tits, placed the hem of it in your mouth not only to keep it out of his way but also to stop you from moaning any more than you already were. His large hands massaged over your breasts, cupping and bringing them to his mouth. He buried his face in your chest, kissing and licking over your sensitive skin, lipping over your nipples and flicking them with his tongue. And when his teeth gently grazed over them, you bit down on your shirt to suppress your whines.

Eren released your tits only to see you hopelessly grind against him. He began to thumb over your clit, trying to tip you over the edge. You were close, your head already thrown back with your pussy throbbing around him.

He admired you then. Your bouncing tits, the slight sheen across your stomach. He watched his cock disappear inside of you, in and out, in and out.

“What did I say before? So damn pretty.”

“Close,” you choked. “I’m close.”

Your head flung forward, chin tucked to your chest as your entire body tightened. Eren’s hand found the nape of your neck, bringing you close enough that your foreheads pressed together.

You were staring straight into each other’s eyes as his hand came between you to clamp down on your mouth. “You gonna come for me?”

You nodded frantically, and that was all it took for you to reach your peak. It bubbled in your core until euphoria engulfed you in its flames. It set your nerves on fire, every fiber of every one, sparking in your chest and scorching through your lower back.

Once your balmy breaths against his palm had steadied, your irises glossing over like you were lost in a rose-tinted haze, Eren knew he wouldn’t last much longer. With that in mind, he didn’t feel so bad for losing control of himself. He only needed a minute.

Eren pushed you onto your back, your head landing toward the end of the trunk. He yanked the blanket with him, over him, as he mounted you, plunging into you to the hilt in one snap of his hips. He watched your eyes widen in shock, but the moment he was fucking you again, you went dumb to everything else.

The car had to be rocking now. There was no way it wasn’t.

You didn’t have the time to worry about it before Eren’s hips became reckless—correction: more reckless than they were already.

“I’m gonna come—fuck,” he groaned, drawing out the curse at the end.

His head dropped into the nook of your shoulder as he thrust into you fully one last time, rutting against you as if your bodies weren’t already flush.

When you were sure he’d spent himself, the tilts of his pelvis growing shallower until they settled, you started to sit up on your elbows.

His voice was gravelly as he grunted, “I’m not done,” right against your ear as he kept you there, fucking his come into you.

Borderline overstimulated, Eren couldn’t stop himself. He wanted you to take everything he gave you, and it still wasn’t enough. When he should be softening inside you, he was still hard, thinking about all the ways he’d have you once you were back at home.

He collapsed on top of you, collected himself, then pushed himself up. You followed, tucking the blanket under your armpits even though your entire body was in a sticky swelter. You wiped your forehead as you watched Eren slip his sweatpants back on before tossing his blanket aside.

He looked from the giant screen and back to you. He no longer recognized the movie, so he assumed, “Look, we even have some of the second movie left.”

You gave him those ‘you can’t be serious’ eyes. “You’re joking, right?”

Of course he was. But he held his silence as long as he could before his smile cracked through. Then he reached to close the trunk.

“That desperate for round two?” he taunted.

Eren started to climb between seats, like he wasn’t too big for it, to reach the front. It was better than facing everyone in the immediate vicinity after what he’d done.

He plopped into the driver’s seat and looked back at you. “If you insist.”

thanks for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #divider by @/cafekitsune

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seokgyuu · 11 months

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→ PAIRING: Chan (Dino) x Afab!Reader x Seungkwan. → GENRE: Friends to Lovers, kinda comedy, tiny bit of fluff, adult content: smut MDNI. → SYNOPSIS: One night of careless drinking with your 13 closest friends leads to Chan and Seungkwan finally finding out you have a crush on them. How lucky you are that the feelings are mutual and that they want to show you just how much they worship you. → WARNINGS: alcohol use, cursing, mutual masturbation (m/m), dirty talk, loads of kissing (m/f/m), blowjobs, mouth, throat and cheek fucking, cum eating, softdom!chan, oral (f receiving), use of petnames: baby, princess, slut, protected sex, double penetration (vaginal & anal), multiple orgasms, really this is filthy lmao → WORDCOUNT: 10.7k

A/N: hello!! what started as a boochan brainrot ended in a boochan brainrot for @bitchlessdino's birthday!! so, here it is your 10k long monster of a present because this girl cannot stfu. i love you and i hope you have the best birthday ever! for everyone else, you are obviously also allowed to enjoy this filthy peace of work! i would appreciate a reblog & comment as that makes my day <;3

Perhaps your ability to fake it was slowly becoming a problem. Fine, being an acting major and all, having even starred in a few theater productions it wasn’t exactly a surprise you were a good actor, but this extent even shocked you.You were at a restaurant with your friends, all of them drinking and having fun and while you at least acted like you had the same amount of fun, you knew well enough you weren’t. It wasn’t like your friends weren’t any fun, no, they were, but two of them in particular had you literally sweating bricks since the moment they had sat down.

In your time at SVT university, you had made a total of 13 friends. All of them boys, all of them already connected from before. The first one you had met was Mingyu, a tall, handsome fella who had adopted you on orientation night when you had struggled to finish all of the shots you and the other freshmen were supposed to drink. Back then you had been a lightweight but being friends with 13 maniacs (even though a couple of them didn’t drink alcohol) had shaped you into a whole new being. So, Mingyu had taken it upon himself to introduce you to his friends and soon enough you found yourself to be all of their little sister.

And for a while that was fine, you didn’t particularly care about them being good-looking or campus crushes, no, to you they were just the guys that had taken you in when you had no one on your side. Moving to the city on your own with no friends or family wasn’t easy, and these 13 idiots had somehow managed to make you feel right at home. They still made you feel at home when only half of you were still in Uni and the rest had graduated, gotten jobs, bought apartments. But as mentioned before it was only fine for a while. Because the more time you spent with them, all of you together or in smaller groups or individually, the more you noticed that two of them made it harder for you to just want to remain friends.

The restaurant wasn’t full, considering it was a Tuesday evening, but since your group was big enough, you were sure the owners would still consider this a successful evening, nonetheless. Right now, you were seated between Mingyu and Jihoon, the table in front of you filled with countless different types of food, your stomach full and your mind a little blurry from the soju you had already drank. You had started playing drinking games about an hour ago, going from wild to mild. At this point, you all had your fingers raised for a (not so) sweet round of “Never have I ever”.

“Okay, uhm, never have I ever…slept with two people in the same night!” Jun seemed extremely happy about his idea. Raising your brows, you watched how basically all of the 95ers, Soonyoung, Minghao and, surprisingly, Hansol, folded a finger.

“Hansolie?” You asked, a grin spreading on your face, and he shrugged as he looked over to you.

“Honestly, I don’t remember much about it, just that at 1am I met this girl, and we hooked up, I went to another club with her and ended up bringing another one home.”

“Ah, yes, I remember that,” Seokmin nodded, pointing at him with his index finger, “the first girl was pissed, but Chan took good care of her, didn’t you, Channie?”

Everyone laughed now, Chan’s cheeks bright red. Well, everyone but you. You just sat there, looking at Chan who was next to Seungkwan, who was also laughing. Suddenly you felt the need to be the first one to fold all fingers and drink your whole glass in one go.

It really wasn’t easy, you had figured out, having feelings for not just one, but two of your closest friends. To this day you hadn’t told a soul about it, and up to this point no one had noticed any changes in your behavior. That’s where the acting major came in handy. Clearing your throat, you put on a grimace.

“Yah, don’t talk about the girl like that, Seokmin oppa,” you scolded him and he put his hands together, bowing his head repeatedly as he continued to say “sorry, ma’am”. You scoffed and shook your head looking over at Jeonghan, who was next to Jun and had to say the next never have I ever.

“Never have I ever sucked a dick,” he said, smiling innocently. You took a deep breath and folded a finger. Hansol, Josh and Minghao followed.

“Look at that, our girl is finally having more than one finger down,” of course Jeonghan had targeted you, knowing he was going to take some of his boy-friends with him, but at least only those with at least seven fingers still up.

“Is that what we’re gonna do now?” You asked, shaking your hair so it would fall backwards from your shoulder and over your back.

“I just think we ask too many straight-male pointed questions. We should be more inclusive in this group!” Jeonghan smiled even wider, and you clicked your tongue, deciding not to answer him.

“Gonna be honest, I don’t even want to imagine Y/N sucking anyone off, like that’s our baby!” Mingyu said, arm now hanging over your chair. For fuck’s sake. You sighed, looking over at him.

“I’m not even a full year younger than Chan, you doofus.”

“At least call him doofus oppa, Y/N,” Cheol grinned, while Mingyu looked incredibly offended. You laughed and nudged Mingyu with your elbow before looking back at Jeonghan, who had a knowing grin on his face, a knowing grin that had you confused. Why did he grin like that?

“Me next!” Soonyoung stretched one arm into the air, his face red from the alcohol. You shook your head slightly, deciding to ignore Jeonghan and just hope whatever he had planned wouldn’t actually come true.

“Never have I ever had a crush on a close friend of mine!”

You felt your blood freeze. A crush on a close friend? Slowly, your eyes moved to Jeonghan, who, of course, was looking right at you. His finger stayed up.

You didn’t take notice of how Chan and Seungkwan folded their fingers.

Leaning back in your chair, you decided to lie. Who said you had to tell the truth here? Crossing your one leg over the other and grabbing a piece of kimchi with your chopsticks to shove it into your mouth, you were content with your choice. At least for approximately three seconds.

“Yah! Y/N, you need to drink!” Soonyoung pointed at you with the arm he had stretched out before, and you choked on the piece of kimchi.

The table seemed confused – or at least a part of it did. While you coughed and Mingyu hit your back repeatedly to help, his face in a frown at Soonyoung, everyone on Jeonghan’s left side seemed just as lost as you felt, while everyone on his right side up until Joshua seemed as if they were more annoyed at Soonyoung. Jihoon, next to you, looked just as confused.

“Excuse me?” You croaked out now, reaching for your water glass, and taking a big sip.

“Ah, common, we have it figured out! You have a crush on Mingyu!”

And the water landed right on your food, spat out of your mouth.

“She- what?!” Mingyu’s eyes widened, while you tried to recover from your earlier coughing fit as well as the one that was now shaking you.

“Hyung, common! We wanted to get it out of her slowly!” Seokmin complained and Soonyoung sighed.

“Do you even know how much we drank? If we do any more shots, we will all die, Seokmin-ah!”

“I do- I do not have a crush on Mingyu!” you finally managed to say, a napkin in your balled fist, “what makes you think I do?!”

Now, everyone looked at you, including Jeonghan who raised his brows.

“You don’t?” He asked, obviously not believing you. You scoffed.

“No, I don’t. And now tell me why you would even think so?”

Jeonghan shifted on his seat, and you were slightly uncomfortable with all the eyes on you – especially Chan’s and Seungkwan’s. How on earth had Jeonghan gotten this so wrong?

“Well, uh, I overheard a conversation you had the other day. With one of your friends? Yuri, I believe?”

You began to wreck your brain. A conversation you had had with Yuri? You remembered talking to her the other day, remembered that she had asked you something and-

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, pulling a hand through your hair, “I don’t have a crush on him, she does!”

And scene. The silence was louder than words. Then – laughter. Everyone but Jeonghan, who’s mouth was now shaped like an “o”, laughed loudly, Jun placing his hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder.

“Yah, hyung, how bad are you at eavesdropping, hm?” The older guy didn’t say anything, he just continued to stare at you. You shook your head, a grin spreading on your lips.

“Feels bad to be embarrassed like this, huh? And to think you wanted to do that to me, oppa. Seriously, me liking Mingyu? You couldn’t have gotten it more wrong.” Pause. You noticed it just around the same time as everyone else. The laughter died down and made room for curious eyebrow raises. Shit.

“So, you’re saying there is someone you like?” Jeonghan was right back in his element, the annoying smirk back on his lips and, god, did you want to punch it off right then and there. Maybe even take some off the leftover perilla leaves and stuff them in his mouth.

All eyes were on you now. Clicking your tongue, you leaned forward.

“Did you really think you’d just get me to confess potential feelings to one of you right now?” You looked straight at Jeonghan, who shrugged with an innocent grin.

“If we got you drunk enough, why not?” Oh, he was such a menace. Did he really think you were this stupid? You scoffed and leaned back, arms crossed.

“Even if I would allow myself to get super drunk, never would I ever tell you anything. At least not with all of us together.”

“So, you’re saying there is someone you have a crush on?” Mingyu now chimed in, basically asking the same question as Jeonghan had before. You closed your eyes momentarily, contemplating how on earth you could still make these mistakes when you had literally been living with these crushes for ages and nothing had ever slipped out. Perhaps it was the alcohol. And the fact that both Seungkwan and Chan just looked way too good tonight.

You had watched them both to the best of your abilities, trying not to get caught (and apparently you hadn’t, considering everyone thought you had a crush on Mingyu). Seungkwan had been in a bit of a mood when he had arrived, and for some reason his slight annoyance made you want to jump his bones right then and there. That mixed with the way he drowned shots, his pretty fingers around the glass, almost flipping the glass over but skilfully stopping it at the last second. Even though you didn’t understand why… it was insanely attractive. His black polo and sweats, the way his brown hair fell into his face. All about him had you in a chokehold. It was basically the same with Chan. Sporting a zip up hoodie and jeans, a black t-shirt underneath, smiling and laughing loudly along when anyone made a joke. These two were in some ways complete opposites and still fell in perfectly together. As much as they often pretended to despise one another, it was safe to say they were actually the best of friends, inseparable. Perhaps that was why you hadn’t just fallen for one of them, but both.

Sitting at the table now, with your friends all quieter than you had ever seen them, you decided that it was time to get this over with. Sighing, you waved the waiter over, who you then proceeded to ask for a pen and paper, all whilst the 13 guys surrounding you looked more than just a little confused.

“What exactly are you doing?” Wonwoo asked now, his eyebrows raised just like the rest of them. Instead of answering you thanked the waiter when he brought you your desired items and slid closer to the table with your chair.

“Since you are all so curious, why don’t we end this once and for all, hm? I’m going to put an X on one of these papers and hand them out to you. If you’re getting the X, and you are interested in me as well, you can come over to my place tomorrow at 8. If you don’t have time, make it,” you were ripping apart the paper until you had 13 almost identical pieces, acting like you were writing on every single one of them (your hand shielding you) and finally folding them together. The boys stared at you with their mouths dropped.

“If you’re not interested, just forget it happened, alright? First and foremost we are friends, and I don’t want that to change, got it?” Now, you got up from your chair, all the small pieces in your hand. You knew which ones held the X’s, ready to give them to Seungkwan and Chan when you reached them, not really able to stop your heart from racing. As you started handing them out, you cleared your throat.

“Oh, and don’t open them now. Open them later, okay? I don’t want this to get any more awkward.”

When you finally reached the two men of your desire, you managed to stay calm just like before. You had successfully convinced yourself that this was just another performance of yours; the boys were your audience and you were inviting them to perform with you, they were a pawn in your game, a piece of your art. Thinking like this made it easy to not be embarrassed and worried about the outcome of this little play. It helped you discard the thought of Seungkwan and Chan going home to their shared apartment later, of them opening the papers either together or alone and then seeing an X, most probably going to tell the other. And just like that they would know that you liked them both.

Sitting back down once everyone had received their papers, you grabbed your shot glass.

“Now that that’s done. Shall we continue?”

–

Living together had never been more nerve wracking than right now. Seungkwan and Chan sat in the taxi, both quiet, the papers you had given out heavy in their pockets. Neither of them had said a word, mostly because they wouldn’t even know what to say. It had been a while since they had found out they liked the same person - namely the girl that had just given out papers that would either have one of them feel the luckiest he had ever been and one shattered, or both just disappointed, but at least disappointed together. They hadn’t even thought about the third option.

Arriving at their shared place, the door falling closed behind them, the two kicked off their shoes and slowly made their way into the living space, a relatively big room with a couch and a TV, a small dining table and finally the open kitchen with an island that they used way more frequently than the table. Without exchanging words they sat down on two stools, their hearts racing as they put their respective papers on the island.

“Who goes first?” Chan asked, hands clasped together on top of the island. Seungkwan gulped.

“Together?” He suggested then and Chan nodded, his sweaty hands letting go of each other to reach for the tiny thing holding so much power. Seungkwan did the same, his throat dry and an unwelcome feeling in his stomach. In his mind it was either neither of them or Chan. Everyone loved Chan, girls loved Chan. He was charming and handsome and some even called him pretty. He was funny and kind, he had an incredible build and his dancing abilities were to die for. Seungkwan, on the other hand, wasn’t exactly popular with the ladies, at least not in the way Chan was. Yes, he was popular because he was funny and outgoing, because he always knew how to make a room laugh and how to present himself as the goofy friend. He had had one girlfriend all his life and that was about all the experience he had. He didn’t even know where to start with Chan.

“Alright then. On three?” Chan looked over at his best friend, who nodded slightly. He could literally see the sweat forming on Seungkwan’s forehead, could hear the speed of his heartbeat. While Chan wished for it to be himself, of course, he also kind of wished it would be Seungkwan you liked. He knew he wasn’t going to be mad at his best friend if he was the one you wanted. More so the opposite. Smiling at him now, Chan leaned over, his elbow softly nudging him in the side.

“Hyung, it’s gonna be fine, okay? Whatever the outcome, we will be fine.” The words touched Seungkwan more than they probably should and somehow he managed an honest smile before taking a deep breath.

“Okay. One.”

“Two.”

“Three!” The two of them said the last number in union, opening the papers at the same time, only to suck in their breaths. Two perfectly written Xs were right there in front of them. For the first few seconds they only stared at the paper, both of their hearts leaping out of their chests, their stomachs doing flips, butterflies spreading throughout every inch of their body. But then they realized what they were seeing, their heads almost simultaneously twirling around to look at the other. When neither of them saw disappointment, they felt confusion. When they looked at the other’s paper, they felt even more confusion.

The next hour was spent calling the 11 other friends that had been at the restaurant receiving a paper.

The hours after that were spent on Seungkwan’s bed, staring at the ceiling in their pjs.

“So,” Chan said after what felt like an eternity of silence.

“So,” Seungkwan replied.

“She likes both of us.” Hearing the words out loud made them seem sillier. Unreal, as well.

“Apparently,” Seungkwan shifted on his back, hands clasped and laid on his stomach, “what do we- what do we do?”

“I guess we’ll go to her place tomorrow.”

“Both of us?”

“She said whoever has an X on their paper is invited over at 8pm, hyung. So yes. Both of us.”

“And then what?”

Chan stayed silent at that once again. Yeah, then what? Gnawing on his bottom lip, he let the thought run through his mind. If you liked both of them, it could mean two things. One, you would want to choose eventually which one you liked better. But this seemed unlikely. You weren’t an indecisive person, they knew that. They knew you. So, option two seemed more realistic, while it also remained the somehow scarier one.

“I think,” Chan started, turning his head to face Seungkwan who was still staring ahead, “I think she wants us both. As in, she wants to date us both.”

Now, Seungkwan looked over at him.

“You really think so?”

“The other option just seems so unlike her. I think she has made her mind up about it and that’s why she even did this tonight. Yeah, she was kind of blindsided because Jeonghan hyung was being his same old enabler self, but… she wouldn’t have told us if she wasn’t ready to… you know. Commit to this.”

“And do you want to commit to this?” Seungkwan asked, wondering what Chan would answer. He was also wondering what he himself would answer.

“I don’t know. I think… I think I like her a lot, hyung. Like a whole damn lot. And I know you do too. You’re my best friend and I don’t- I don’t know how to explain this, but I feel like, if it’s with you I would be able to… do this.”

Surprise was displayed on the older boy’s face and he slowly sat up, Chan following his movement.

“So you’re saying that… if she wants both of us to be her boyfriends, you would be cool with that?”

“Yeah. I think so,” Chan hesitated a moment, “what about you?”

And there the question was. Laid out in front of Seungkwan, who had no idea what to say. Yes, he liked you. He liked you so, so much. But could he be in a poly relationship with you and his best friend? Could he- suddenly, the thought of Chan with you invaded his mind. You on top of Chan, kissing him, Chan’s hands all over your body, touching your skin. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to watch you, to hear you moan as Chan was kissing you, his hands somewhere between your legs…

“I think I would be too,” he breathed out now, his cheeks a little red and Chan looked at him attentively. Something in Seungkwan’s face, in his voice, had piqued his interest. He tilted his head, curiosity getting the best of him.

“What did you just think about?” He asked, not entirely sure why he was this intrigued.

“I-,” Seungkwan noticed the glint in Chan’s eyes, noticed the obvious curiosity and felt excitement rush over him. Clearing his throat, he laid back down on his back, Chan’s eyes on him at all times.

“I thought about what she would look like on top of you,” Seungkwan finally explained, not looking at his friend but instead back at the ceiling. His blood was rushing through his ears and down to his cock that slowly but surely grew in size. Chan stared at him, not sure what he had expected to hear and while a part of him had known it was something sexual, hearing it from Seungkwan himself made goosebumps erupt all over his skin.

When Chan didn’t say anything, Seungkwan continued.

“I thought about what she would sound like, what her moans would sound like when you touch her,” he licked his lips, the image back and so clear in front of his eyes. Now, Chan also laid down next to him, eyes fixed on a spot above them.

“I can see that, too, you know. Her on top of you. Her hips grinding down because she is so desperate for friction. She always seems so confident and in control, but I think when she’s horny she doesn’t have any of that control left.”

“Yeah, and she would.. she would be begging for us to touch her, to-,”

“To fuck her,” Chan finished the sentence for Seungkwan, who now felt his dick reach the ultimate hardness.

“Y-yeah,” Seungkwan stuttered, head dizzy, thoughts full of you and Chan and himself, in between the sheets, your wet and throbbing pussy around his size while you had your mouth on Chan’s hard cock. He had seen Chan naked more times than not, but none of these times had he been hard and for whatever reason, right now, he wished he had.

“Shit, I can totally see her, whiny and pouting, wanting all her holes stuffed with cocks, our cocks. She would suck on them so prettily, get her whole mouth full, wanting to touch herself but we wouldn’t let her, instead you’d go down on her, lick up her pussy and she’d moan around my cock, making me slip down further. Fuck, I bet she can take cock down all the way, I could feel it when i press down on her throat.”

Seungkwan had given up midway through Chan’s words. His hand was now down his pants, palming himself over his briefs, eyes closed as he listened to Chan’s voice. All the images of you were flooding his mind, making his hips move against his hand in a desperate attempt for even more friction.

Chan noticed Seungkwan then. Heard the noises his best friend made, his skin slightly beginning to tingle. Swallowing down the phantom lump in his throat, he let his own hand slip into his sweats, feeling his hard cock against the palm of his hand. Precum had already stained his briefs and he imagined you on your knees, sucking on his tip, catching the drips of his arousal.

“Do you think she’d let us fuck her tomorrow?” Seungkwan asked then, out of breath and his hand now fully around his clothed cock. Chan groaned at the question.

“God, I sure hope she does. Maybe on her couch? Sitting on my lap, riding me and you can fuck her sweet little mouth.”

“Fuck, bet she looks so pretty with her lips spread around our cocks,” both of them now slipped their hands fully into their underwear, the precum making it easy for them to jerk off. This had never happened before. Neither of them had ever just masturbated with a friend present. But this situation was oddly erotic and almost felt natural. Hearing each other breath hard, the slick of their wet dicks against their hands, the shifting of the duvet underneath them, as they arched their backs, fucking into their fists.

“Wanna see her tits full of our cum, fuck,” Chan bit down on his lip, hand speeding up and Seungkwan nodded harshly, vivid images of you naked and sprawled on his bed, cum decorating your body. In his head you would look at them with big, round eyes, fingers dipping into the white cream, sucking it off right after. He wondered if you liked to swallow cum, if you liked having it all over you. A part of him believed that you did.

“S-Shit, Y/N,” Seungkwan moaned finally, his orgasm hitting him just then, only a few seconds before Chan was hit by his own, cum shooting out and into his underwear. The two men moaned your name, fucking themselves through their orgasms before coming down from their highs, hands still around their softening cocks, chests heaving.

Without saying anything, Chan got up first to go to the bathroom and clean himself up, the post-nut clarity giving himself a bit of a freakout. Seungkwan felt the same as he stood up as well, heart pumping in his chest at godspeed, his now dirty briefs finding their way into his dirty laundry basket and a new pair found its way onto his body. Also slipping into a new pair of sweats, Seungkwan turned around when he heard the ajar door opening wider. Chan stood there, a new pair of underwear and pants on his frame.

“Can I sleep here?” Chan asked then. Seungkwan didn’t have to think twice before he nodded.

–

7:45 pm the next day and you had prepared yourself as well as your apartment for either success or failure. Right now, you had dimly lit your living area, candles on top of the couch table with three plates and sets of chopsticks, the Chinese take-out you knew Seungkwan and Chan liked so much stored in the microwave. You had no idea if they were coming. You were just hoping they would. The closer it got to 8 pm, the more your stomach turned in fear and excitement. You had put on what you would consider your sexiest outfit; a dark green bodycon dress that reached down to the middle of your thighs. A bit of silver jewelry and your hair in the way you usually liked it - you were more than content with yourself for the evening.

There is still a chance they won’t even show up.

Biting down on your painted lips, you let your eyes wander off to the clock by the door. 7:57 pm. Trying to make yourself calm down, you poured wine into one of the glasses standing on the table, drowning it in one go. While liquid courage might not have been the best solution - it still was one. Putting the glass back down, you almost dropped it to the floor when you heard your doorbell ring. Instantly, your heart began racing, eyes close to popping out as you hurried over to the door. Buzzing them up, you began one of your breathing exercises that you would usually do before going on stage. This wasn’t much different from stage fright- just that it was real and you wouldn’t have the chance to do it better the next night. No, this was it, this was the moment you had been hoping for, dreaming of.

The knock on your door brought you back to the here and now and after shaking out your shoulders one last time, you finally opened the door.

Nothing could have prepared the three of you for the feelings flooding you the moment the door was open, leaving nothing between you anymore. Seungkwan and Chan held their breaths once their eyes laid on you. The way you looked in your dress, showing off every single one of your curves. Knowing full well that you put on this dress for them made both of them feel their throats dry up. For a moment they were one, Chan and Seungkwan, their hearts beating the same beat only for you. Right then, it was only them and you on this earth and they were sure to make you feel just how much you meant to them.

And you? You couldn’t believe they were really here, both of them. Dressed in similar outfits, Chan wore a white dress shirt under a black jacket, while Seungkwan was dressed in all black. They looked incredible.

“You’re here,” you finally breathed out and the boys nodded, their eyes never leaving you.

“Of course,” Chan replied, a small smile playing on his lips making your knees weak.

“I’m glad. Come on in,” You took a step to the side, watching them as they walked inside your apartment. They had been here many times before, but nothing had ever felt like this. Already now did you feel goosebumps all over you, feel the urge to touch them, kiss them. All the things you had successfully suppressed over the time you had liked them were coming up at once, knocking the air right out of you.

After leaving their shoes at the door, the two of them followed you inside, their eyes slightly widening when they saw what you had prepared. The candles and the dim lights. The prettily set couch table.

“I ordered Chinese. Your favorite, I, uh, hope that’s okay,” you smiled, walking into the kitchen where you got the food containers out of the microwave, happy that they still seemed warm. Chan and Kwan watched you, both of them smiling warmly.

“That’s perfect, thanks Y/N,” Kwan said, taking the food from your hands to bring them over to the table. Feeling your cheeks warm up, you thanked him and finally you and Chan followed him over to the table where you finally sat down.

The nervosity clearly flowing around the table wasn’t too bad, you thought, but you did want to somehow ease the situation. Clearing your throat you poured both of them a glass of wine, sitting at the head of the table and the two men to your left and right. Their eyes on you made all of you tingle.

“Thanks,” they hummed when they took their glasses and you finally all had something to drink.

“Well, here is to tonight,” your voice was thankfully way more confident than you felt. Clinking your glasses you all took a sip from the red liquid, feeling the warmth of the alcohol joining the warmth of the situation. Chan and Seungkwan exchanged a look before letting their eyes linger on you again.

“So, you’re probably wondering what this,” you used your hands to make a circle between you and them, “is about?”

“We did come up with two possible options,” Chan nodded and you looked over at him.

“Okay.” God, how on earth were you supposed to play it cool when he looked at you this way? Chan was always handsome, but tonight was different somehow. His white button down wasn’t fully buttoned, very obviously showing the necklace he was wearing, silver and sexy and your absolute weakness. His hair was styled up, only a few strands falling into his face and, shit, did he look delicious.

“One of them was that you would tell one of us to leave at the end of the night,” he continued, watching you closely. You had already anticipated that this was the first thing they’d come up with. Society’s take on polygamy and all. Slowly, you nodded, wanting him to keep talking.

“The second one,” Seungkwan now chimed in, your head turning to him. He was also a sight to behold. Brown hair falling into his forehead as it always did. Pretty rings on his just as pretty fingers catching the light of the candles.

“Was you wanting both of us.”

Your stomach turned, the tone of his voice going straight between your legs. Gulping down, you nodded again.

“I see. Well, which one do you think is more likely?”

“The second one,” Chan answered immediately, Seungkwan nodding in agreement. If you were honest, this had been the thing you had been scared of the most. Them finding out you wanted both of them and feeling appalled by it. But judging by their reaction right now… it didn’t seem like they were.

“And you’re okay with that?” You asked cautiously and they chuckled, both of them shuffling closer to you. It was almost as if the whole room suddenly shifted. Your breath hitched when you felt their body heat in such close proximity.

“Very much,” Chan said, his hand softly caressing your cheek.

“More than okay, actually,” Seungkwan added, his lips right by your ear. Your core began throbbing, wetness gathering at your entrance, dripping out of you when you saw the way they both looked at you. Full of hunger, want, lust.

“I- I’m happy to hear that,” you whispered and then, without another moment going to waste, Chan kissed you softly. His lips tasted like wine and like him, and when he parted your lips, his tongue knocking into yours, all of you began to tremble. Seungkwan took it upon himself to shower your exposed neck with sensual kisses, his one hand finding your bare thigh and squeezing the flesh. You moaned into Chan’s mouth, feeling the older male’s hand on the other side of your neck.

Sure, you had thought that maybe at some point, if the two of them agreed to this, it would come to sex. Never had you expected it to go this way, them on you not even five minutes after they had set foot into your apartment. Not that you were complaining. Trying to figure out what to do with your hands you put one on Chan’s cheek, while the other laid down on Seungkwan’s resting on your leg, your lips moving against Chan’s in perfect rhythm.

When Chan parted from you, you turned your head, facing Seungkwan now who’s eyes seemed to sparkle when your gazes met, a small smile on both of your lips before you leaned in. Seungkwan tasted like wine as well, but different from Chan. They both had tastes that you could only describe as addictive, your hands now moving and finding themselves on Seungkwan’s chest and Chan’s neck, Chan who now took it upon himself to take over Seungkwan’s earlier mission. The kisses he left all over your neck and shoulders made you shiver and he chuckled against your skin, the vibrations making you moan again, this time into Seungkwan’s mouth.

“Perhaps we should move this somewhere else,” Chan suggested and Seungkwan parted from you, your eyes shifting between them.

“W-What about the food?” You croaked, Chan smirking as his thumb slid over your bottom lip.

“You have a microwave right? We can heat that up… later.”

–

You wouldn’t say that you lacked sexual experience. But then again you had never had a threesome before and up until you had started liking two of your closest friends, you had never thought you wanted one either.

Chan was behind you, his hands on the zipper of your favorite dress, slowly tugging it down. Seungkwan was in front of you, his hands on your cheeks as he kissed you passionately, your tongues in a heated dance, lips moving together as if they had never done anything else. How wonderful it was, both of them being good kissers. You loved kissing, but it happened more often than not that partners of yours just didn’t really know how to. Seungkwan and Chan, though, definitely took the cake. Sliding the dress off your body, Chan began to fondle your exposed skin, fingertips dancing over your skin, making goosebumps erupt once more. He let his mouth draw lines over your shoulder blades and the back of your neck, letting his tongue flick against your sensitive skin. You wanted to touch them both, wanted to feel them, find out everything there was to know about what they liked.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Chan whispered against your ear, his teeth finding your lobe and biting down on it, a whimper escaping you that had Seungkwan’s hands move down to your hips, gripping you tightly.

“Fuck, do that again, Channie,” he sighed and Chan did as asked, another whimper making both of their dicks twitch.

“So, so hot,” Chan brought his nimble fingers to the clasp of your bra, opening it without any trouble and soon you found yourself mostly naked - with the exception of your thong. Now, Chan’s hands moved over your stomach and up to your breasts, squeezing them, massaging them, thumb and index around your stiff nipples, your back arching against Seungkwan who still kissed you with so much fire it made you almost lose your footing. Being sandwiched in between them was better than anything you had ever experienced before, and when you thought about their cocks and how they would feel inside you, you couldn't help but grind your ass against Chan’s crotch.

“Oh? Are you needy, baby?” Chan teased, biting into your shoulder before sucking and leaving a perfectly red mark right there.

“Mhm, w-want you to get undressed too, ‘s unfair,” you whined, and Seungkwan looked at Chan over your shoulder, both of them wearing a smirk that definitely meant trouble.

“Is that right?” Seungkwan caressed the back of your head now, soft fingers through your hair and you nodded, a pout on your pretty lips.

“Well, who would we be to deny your wish?” Turning you around by the shoulders, Chan proceeded to push you down on your knees, your eyes widening when you felt the carpet hit your naked legs. Above you, the two men now began unbuttoning their shirts, their eyes never leaving you, and once they were done the pieces of clothing landed on the floor next to your dress and bra. You couldn’t stop staring at them. Both of them were extremely well built, even if Seungkwan didn’t really think so about himself. While Chan sported more muscle, Seungkwan’s body had something elegant, his shoulders wide, his neck probably the prettiest thing about him. Your eyes wandered over their abs, Chan’s maybe a bit more defined than Kwan’s, mouth watering when you saw their happy trails leading to what you could only presume to be the prettiest dicks you’d ever see.

“Be a good girl and help us with our pants, Y/N,” Chan said, and only now did you realize that he would be the one fully in charge. Your pussy throbbed at the thought and you nodded obediently, hands lifting to first open Chan’s trousers, button, then zipper shoving them down his lean legs, his thighs that made you clench around nothing. You looked up at him, saw the hunger in his eyes and bit your lip, not allowing yourself to let your eyes linger too long on his very obvious erection. Instead, you moved on to Seungkwan, doing the same as with Chan, just that this time you couldn’t help it. Seungkwan’s cock was big. Bigger than you had imagined. Your mouth dropped open and you were sure you were about to drool. Meanwhile, the two watched you, Seungkwan feeling his whole body grow hot when he saw the way you looked at his cock. He knew he was big, probably bigger than most of his peers, but he never really talked or felt like bragging about it. So, of course you’d be surprised. Chan, on the other side, smirked, seeing you in this state was incredibly hot and he snapped his finger once, making your head turn to him in an instant.

“Like Seungkwannie’s cock? How about you let it fuck your pretty mouth?”

Judging by the way Seungkwan twitched at Chan’s words, at least he was happy with that suggestion. But, so were you. Nodding your head, you looked back at Seungkwan, who inhaled sharply, his hands now tugging down his briefs exposing his hard, huge, leaking cock.

“Oh my god, Seungkwannie… s-so big,” you mumbled, your tongue shooting out to collect the precum that was pooling at his slit. He moaned slightly, finding the back of your head with his left hand.

“Slowly, babe. We don’t want you suffocating,” he smiled and you shivered, leaning forward to finally catch him between your lips. Hell, was it better than either of your imaginations. You, on your knees, lips stretched out around Kwan’s cock. Chan felt himself twitch, moving behind you, exchanging a look with Seungkwan.

“Good girl, so good for us,” Chan praised you now, when you took even more of Seungkwan into your mouth. The older of the two men couldn’t help but let out breathy moans that spurred you on even more, the determination to get him completely down your throat bigger than ever. And then you felt it. Felt Chan’s hands on either side of your head, shoving you forward. He was moving your head to match Seungkwan’s pleasure. Fuck, that was hot. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, instead they rolled back, and Seungkwan watched you with his own mouth dropped, before he slowly looked up at Chan who’s eyes were locked on the way his best friend’s dick was sliding in and out of your throat. You felt Seungkwan twitch on your tongue, his tip now repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, gags erupting your body as well as chokes that made both men feel even more feral than before.

Chan began moving you down Seungkwan’s cock quicker now, Seungkwan sure he wasn’t going to last long anymore, but a part of him didn’t really mind. He knew he was probably going to watch Chan fuck you and, fuck, was he excited to see that. Moaning your name, he grabbed some of your hair, pulling on it as he couldn’t help but buckle his hips. Tears were streaming down your face, but nothing about this was unenjoyable. Every thrust of Seungkwan’s hips combined with Chan’s pushing of your head was everything you had hoped for and more. Your core was dripping at this point, the thong useless, arousal dripping down onto the carpet and if you had been in any other headspace you might have begun asking yourself how you were gonna get that out. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Seungkwan cried out, his hips moving at a sloppier pace now and you groaned, excitement flowing through you.

“Do you want Seungkwan to cum in your mouth, baby? Or should he come somewhere else?�� Chan pulled you off Seungkwan’s cock, you finally able to catch your breath, chest heaving and your eyes blinking rapidly.

“W-wanna eat his cum, can I?”

“God, yes, yes you can,” Seungkwan slipped into your mouth again and Chan smirked as he now let his best friend take the lead and instead sat down on the bed, palming himself over his briefs watching Seungkwan fuck down your throat desperately. You held onto his thighs, eyes rolled back again, hearing yourself gag over and over again mixed with the dirty sound of his slick cock inside your hot mouth making it hard for you not to just come untouched.

“You take my cock so well, such a good girl, so perfect for my big cock,” Seungkwan whined, and you nodded as well as you could with him rutting down your throat. When you pressed your tongue against his girth, sliding along his veins, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He moaned your name once more, pushing your head as close to his abdomen as possible, his hot thick cum shooting down your throat. You tried your best to swallow it all, but some escaped your mouth when he finally pulled out, his eyes unfocused by the strength of that orgasm.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at who made a mess,” Chan titled his head looking at you and you let your fingers slide over your chin where traces of Seungkwan were still present, sucking them into your mouth.

“Seungkwannie is so tasty,” you giggled then, eyes wandering from Chan back to the man who had just fucked the life out of your mouth. His spent cock twitched at your words and he caressed your face, before helping you back on your feet, his lips catching yours, leading you into a soft kiss that made another set of butterflies go crazy inside your stomach.

Fondness engulfed Chan now, who still sat on the bed. He really hadn’t thought this was possible, but sometimes life took a turn no one could have predicted. Him being happy about his best friend kissing the girl he liked. Him being hard as a rock from watching his bist friend fuck your mouth. Now, he felt immense proudness somehow, proud that apparently all of you were mature enough to not be jealous or possessive - even though he wasn’t so sure how he’d feel if anyone else joined or had you. Maybe it was just him and Seungkwan he liked around you in this way.

“Come here,” he now said and you and Seungkwan parted, you now walking over to Chan, while Seungkwan took a seat on the bed as well, resting against the headboard. You came to a halt in front of the pretty man and his hands found their way to your waist, right above the waistband of your drenched thong. Licking his hips, he pulled you closer.

“We should get rid of this, shouldn’t we?” he asked, but it was rhetorical. The next second he had already begun shoving it down, a shiver going through you when your wet cunt hit the air of the room. You stepped out of the underwear and Chan pulled you even closer, his breath fanning over your stomach. Your eyes never left his, feeling his fingers glide upwards again, his right hand moving between your thighs and getting a breathy gasp out of you when his fingertips touched your pussy.

“Fuck, she’s so, so wet, Seungkwan,” Chan let a film of your arousal coat his fingers before letting his left hand move up even further until it was on your right tit, squeezing it harshly.

“Ch-Chan, pl-please,” your knees almost gave in and Chan chuckled, one finger skillfully sinking into you and making you cry out.

“What is it, baby? Do you want me to finger your sweet little pussy?” He asked as he was already doing just that. His finger slipped in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace and you had trouble holding still, your hands now resting on Chan’s shoulders, teeth buried in your bottom lip, hips moving against his hand.

“M-More, I can take it, Channie.”

“Oh, I bet you can, princess. Not yet, though,” Chan smirked again, before quickening his pace, thumb now pressing onto your clit. You moaned loudly, eyes falling shut. You didn’t know how he did it, but you already felt like cumming. Your walls clenched around his one single digit and he sucked in a breath when he felt it, felt the throbbing inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re already close, aren’t you a little slut…,” he mumbled, staring at your pussy, the wetness of his finger and just you. How was he ever going to get enough?

Seungkwan was still sitting behind Chan, not able to see the way he fingered you, but just your face alone was enough to start his dick getting hard again. He was lazily jerking himself off, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure. He probably wouldn’t need much more to cum again, just this would be enough.

“Mhmm, Ch-Channie pl-please, m-more,” you begged again and Chan felt his cock twitch, not sure how long he could resist giving in to you. For now, he just let his thumb draw circles on your clit, pressing down on it harshly as he let his finger slide in and out. And then, suddenly, his thumb was gone and you were about to protest, when it was replaced by something better.

His tongue leaped at your clit, flicking at it over and over again before sucking it into his mouth, the high pitched moan you let out music to his ears and his cock, Seungkwan behind him cursing under his breath. Chan couldn’t help himself. He wanted to taste you so fucking bad. Not really knowing what he was doing, he pulled his finger out of you and instead brought both his hands to your hips, turning you around and throwing you on the bed, he himself now on his knees, tongue in between your thighs.

“F-fuck, Chan!” You screamed, hands finding his hair, back arching against his mouth. He devoured you. Sucking your clit into his mouth first, moving down to your sopping entrance next, tongue fucking you, thumb back to his earlier ministrations. You couldn’t keep it down, he was too good at this, too good at making you feel like you were going to cum in the next three seconds.

Seungkwan somehow got fully hard again, his hand wrapped around his length, moving up and down as he stared at Chan between your legs, sweat on his forehead.

“Does he make you feel good, Y/N? You like Channie eating you out like this?” He breathed out and you nodded, your eyes flying open to look at Seungkwan, clenching around Chan’s tongue when you saw Seungkwan jerking off.

“Yo-You’re hard again, Kwannie,” you groaned and he nodded.

“How could I not be? Look at you baby, you’re a fucking sight to behold.”

Just then you felt Chan’s tongue back on your clit, two fingers pushing into you next and a scream left you, nails digging into Chan’s scalp, hips moving rapidly against his face and fingers, the man between your legs enjoying every second of it. He put his all into making you cum, fingers curling, hitting your spot, tongue circling your clit, pressing down on it and sucking it into his mouth again, drowning in your taste and smell, his free hand inside his briefs now, fucking his cock into his fist.

“‘M gonna c-cum, Chan, d-don’t stop!” He wasn’t going to. If anything he was just going to keep going to make you cum again. When your first orgasm hit you, you kept on chanting Chan’s name, your hips uncontrollably moving against his face, pussy throbbing around his fingers. When he didn’t stop after your high was over you felt yourself fall, your back lifting off the bed, seeing black and white in front of your eyes when he somehow got another orgasm out of you mere seconds after the first one.

Finally, Chan parted from you, his face full of your arousal, a smirk on his lips as he climbed on top of the bed, his briefs discarded on the floor. You were out of breath, feeling fucked out already. You weren’t willing to stop just yet though.

“Came so good for us, baby. So pretty and perfect,” Chan kissed your neck and finally your lips, your own taste spreading in your mouth. Hazily opening your eyes when he parted from you, you felt new energy sweep into you the second you saw what he did next. He moved to Seungkwan, the fingers that had been inside of you right in front of the older male’s mouth.

“Wanna taste her?” Chan asked, and Seungkwan nodded quickly, sucking Chan’s fingers into his mouth. Your pussy clenched, another set of arousal dropping onto the bed.

“Oh wow,” you breathed out, sitting up and watching how Seungkwan’s eyes rolled back at your taste, Chan so incredibly hard, cock twitching at the way it felt to have Seungkwan suck on his fingers. You were on your knees now, hands on Chan’s shoulders, lips attaching to his neck, sucking harshly on the skin. Moving down, you let your right hand grab around him, precum making it so easy for you to begin to jerk off his pretty cock. Chan moaned, pulling his fingers out of Seungkwan’s mouth only to grab him by the neck and crash their lips together, making you basically rub yourself against Chan’s backside. Fuck, it was so hot to watch them kiss, to watch how Seungkwan’s tongue twirle around Chan’s getting even more of your taste into his own mouth.

Kissing Seungkwan was better than Chan had imagined. But then, he had never really imagined it before. And perhaps he would never do it outside the bedroom - but that was a thought for another day. Right now he just knew he enjoyed it, enjoyed Seungkwan’s tongue against his own, liked the way he tasted of wine and now of you. When they parted from each other, saliva was connecting their lips and their hooded eyes were staring into each other. You, behind Chan, were groaning, biting into Chan’s shoulder slightly.

“That was so hot, fuck, I need you both to fuck me like right now.”

Chan and Seungkwan looked back at you.

“How do you want us?” Chan asked, thumb sliding over your bottom lip.

“One in the front, the other in the back. I have lube in my nightstand.”

Holy fuck. Seungkwan and Chan groaned, and before you knew what was happening they had you in between them again, Seungkwan kissing you hard on the lips while Chan licked and sucked and kissed your neck, every bit of skin he could catch. You moaned against them, hands finding their cocks and beginning to jerk them both off at the same speed. The two men breathed hard, hands roaming over your body, one hand each on your tits, while the other was either in your hair or your ass. At this point you couldn’t even tell which hand belonged to whom, the horny daze in your brain too much. But you needed them, you needed them to fill you up, needed their cocks to fuck you hard and until you couldn’t walk properly anymore.

Eventually you ended up on all fours, Seungkwan behind you, lube in his hand, and he couldn't stop staring at your pretty backside. He squeezed lube onto his finger and onto your tight hole, beginning to prep you slowly. Feeling his finger enter you hurt only a bit at the beginning, but he was so careful and soft it made it almost impossible not to enjoy. And with Chan kneeling in front of you, his cock in his hand, you felt like nothing could go wrong that night.

“Wanna suck your cock, Channie,” you blinked up at him and the boy smiled, bringing his member to your lips.

“Stick out your tongue,” he commanded and you did it, his cock slapping down on your tongue a few times right then. You moaned, clenching around nothing as Seungkwan eased into your ass easier with you getting more relaxed.

“Good girl. Now, suck on my tip, no tongue,” again you followed his order, sucking his tip into your mouth, your tongue so eager to touch him, taste him, but you wanted to be obedient and so you only watched him, tongue resting inside your mouth. Chan’s breathing was getting harder, his vision blurry. God, you looked so good, your lips stretched around his cock.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he finally gave in, shoving his cock further inside your mouth, moaning loudly when he felt your tongue press against him, when he felt your throat restrict around him. He began fucking your mouth, changing the angle so he is inside your cheek, fucking against it over and over, the soft inside of it making stars appear around his head.

Meanwhile, Seungkwan had managed to get another finger inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure and just the thought of Seungkwan’s big cock filling your hole in a bit making your head feel dizzy.

Chan knew he wouldn’t last any longer with how good it felt to be inside your mouth, pulling out to instead hold his cock by the base, staring down at you.

“Such a perfect slut for us, I can’t believe we’re this lucky,” he mumbled, his fingers caressing your cheek before checking in with Seungkwan, who nodded.

“I think she’s ready. What do you say, pretty baby?”

“Am ready. Need you so bad,” you wiggled your hips and Seungkwan chuckled before grabbing a condom and giving another one to Chan. You pouted a little - part of you wished they would just fuck you raw.

“After all of us getting tested we’ll gladly fill you up with our cum, baby,” Chan seemed to have read your mind, your cheeks beginning to burn while he smirked down at you.

Seungkwan positioned himself behind you, one hand on your hip, the other around his cock. The condom was on and another squeeze of lube coated it, making it an almost perfect glide when he sunk into you, the feeling of you around him so good he couldn’t help but moan in pleasure. Chan watched, ripping the condom open to roll it up his cock, waiting for Seungkwan to fully sink inside so he could take his place inside your throbbing cunt.

“A-ah, Seungkwan,” you whimpered, tears pooling in your eyes when you felt him bottom out. He twitched inside you, hands now both on your hips.

“You are so tight and perfect, princess, could cum right away,” his words made you shiver, and when he pulled you up, your back meeting his chest, you felt him slip inside even deeper, your eyes rolling back. Chan moved forward now, fingers on your core, lips finding yours for a soft kiss.

“Ready for me?” He asked and you nodded, one arm behind you, wrapping around Seungkwan’s neck, while the other was sneaking around Chan’s shoulders. The latter licked his lips, lining his cock with your entrance and beginning to push in. You gasped at the feeling of him stretching your walls, his body so close to yours, both of the men literally breathing against your skin, not even an inch of air between you. Nothing had ever felt better and right now you couldn’t imagine ever having sex another way. You looked into Chan’s eyes, felt him bottom out and the feeling of fullness is so much another set of tears pools in your eyes.

“M-move, god, please fuck me,” you cried and they share one last look before giving you what you want (and what they want for that matter).

The first thrusts were almost simultaneous. Chan and Seungkwan tried to match each other’s pace, but soon enough they got lost in their own pleasure. You, between them, were a moaning mess, tears streaming over your cheeks at this point, fingernails digging into the skin of the two men making you feel like the sexiest and most precious being on this earth. Hearing them breath hard, moan, groan, it was all like heaven to you.

“You’re so fuckign tight, fuck, taking us so well,” Chan’s lips were on your neck, another mark showing up, Seungkwan on the other side, his hips frantically moving, lips latched onto your neck and shoulders whenever he wasn’t moaning your name and how good your ass was for his cock. Chan picked up the pace, chasing his high and hoping to take you with him, his hands finding your tits and squeezing them, while your own hand now moved in between your bodies, thumb on your clit getting you even wetter.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum,” Chan’s whisper into your ear made you tremble and you pushed your hips against Seungkwan who grabbed your hips even harsher, sure to leave a bruise.

“Won’t last long, f-fuck,” he felt like his head was about to explode.

“Want both of you to cum for me, please. Wish you were fucking me raw, want your cum in me so bad,” you didn’t know how you were able to form a cohesive sentence, but it did it’s job. The two men moaned, their cocks throbbing and twitching as they became even sloppier, both their heads buried in between your neck and shoulder, moaning against your sweaty skin as they came at the exact same time, cum shooting into the condoms and finally taking you over the edge for a third time. You milked them for all they had, collapsing against Chan in front of you, the exhaustion taking over. Your pussy still pulsated around Chan, making it hard for him to leave you, but looking at Seungkwan, he knew they should probably get you to lay down.

They pulled out, Seungkwan helping you into the sheets, your eyes fluttering open and a smile spreading on your tired lips.

“That was incredible,” you whispered and Seungkwan nodded, softly moving the hair out of your face.

“You are incredible,” he then added, kissing your forehead. Chan had gone to the bathroom meanwhile, getting you a wet towel which he now used to clean you up. Sadly for all of you, there wasn’t any of their cum involved. Still, you were thankful for the help, considering you would need at least another ten minutes of resting before you could get yourself to the bathroom.

–

The food tasted great even when heated up. After getting dressed again (even though you did change into pajama shorts and a top instead of your dress) and peeing, the three of you had come back to the living space to finish the actual date. It was maybe slightly awkward, but nothing another glass of wine couldn’t fix.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat, “what does this mean for us now?” You looked from Seungkwan to Chan and back.

“That you’re our girlfriend, right?” Chan raised his brows and you felt your cheeks heat up. Coughing once you slowly nodded.

“I mean… if you’re cool with that?”

“Cool with that?” Seungkwan laughed, “we literally just fucked the life out of you, we are more than “cool with that”, Y/N.”

You stared at him for a few seconds. Then you broke out into a laugh.

“Fair enough. Well then… yes, I am your girlfriend. You are… my boyfriends,” the smile wouldn’t leave your lips.

“So, how exactly are we gonna tell the others?” Chan leaned back on his hands, a grin on his pretty face.

“Well, first of all I should really let them know how wrong they got their guess. But to be fair - I am an incredible actor, so obviously no one would have known.”

“Well, you also didn’t know we liked you back, does that make us good actors too?” Seungkwan raised his brows. You thought about this for a second.

“I guess that makes all of us a perfect match. Easy as that.” And when they laughed and you ended up falling asleep on the couch later that night they couldn’t even deny how right you were. Nothing had ever felt more perfect than this. Than you.

#svt smut #seventeen smut #boochan smut #lee chan smut #dino smut #chan svt smut #dino x reader #chan x reader #lee chan x reader #chan x you #dino x you #boo seungkwan smut #seungkwan smut #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan x you

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pedgito · 1 year

Note

hi! i have a small prompt request!

what if eddie left something that’s for hellfire (like a notebook or one of his advanced dnd folders) and the reader (a cheerleader getting off of practice) sees it and decides to walk to his place to give it back

it starts raining and once they get there, wanye offers them a shower so they don’t get sick and to dry their clothes

long story short, eddie walks in on them after their shower and gets all flustered after staring for a while

maybe a small perv eddie BUT ALL FLUFF WITH FEELINGS SHOWN AT THE END

author’s note: this was supposed to be quick but i got carried away lol, i hope it’s okay!

cw: 18+ (minors dni) slight perv!eddie, reader is good at calling eddie’s bluffs, acquaintances to friends (w possible benefits), unrequited crushes, cheerleader!reader, mentions of drug use, kissing/teasing, lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 3.8k

Eddie was the least scariest person you knew, no matter how much people swore the opposite. Truthfully, you didn’t even know him very well—aside from the occasional discreet meet-up on the outskirts of school grounds, which after a few times eventually turned into meeting up with Eddie at his house, or allowing him to drive you, the latter being the more frequent. To be fair, most of what you relationship consisted of was a tolerance for the other. If he wasn’t the cheapest and easily accessible option for drugs, you wouldn’t have batted an eye—regardless of how cute he may have been.

And you’re not blind, you can see it. Eddie’s always been attractive, from his short buzzcut in grade school to his long, tousled curls he sported now, hiding his fit physique behind too many layers and always overcompensating with his over the top personality—not that you minded it, but it definitely rubbed people the wrong way.

Either way, he shafts you earlier in the day when you ask to meet up with him, going on and on about his stupid club, you didn’t understand any of it. It seemed way too serious for a game that consisted of plastic dice and way too much math for something that was supposed to be fun. He’s also flustered more than usual, slightly all over the place—and when his spiral notebook falls from his bag at the ring of the final bell dismissing you for the day, he doesn’t hear you calling after him, already long gone.

If it weren’t for the strict practice schedule Chrissy liked to keep, you would have ran straight to the theater room and returned Eddie’s belongings, not even thinking twice about it—and sure, his friends would probably tease him about some like you, a cheerleader, coming by to talk to him. But, Eddie had never explicitly stated his dislike for anyone really, not even Jason, who hounded him relentlessly for just breathing.

The next best option is to catch him after, knowing his club meetings probably stretched into the late hours of the evening, but the doors to the building are already looked when you arrive there—shaking and pounding on the door is no help either, your shoulders slumping in defeat.

It was just a notebook and it could wait until the next day, but from personal experience, it would have driven you crazy knowing someone had your belongings in their possession without you realizing —and besides, you could still buy from Eddie that way, not giving him a chance to weasel out that easily.

The walk isn’t bad at first either, the air is warm and calm, the passing cars providing enough light on your walk that it isn’t so terrifying—as often as your parents warned you about going out alone, you couldn’t understand why you were so easily throwing caution to the window now. But with Eddie, it seemed like a regular theme.

A bad boy who supposedly dabbled in satanic worshiping and sold fairly good weed, how could you pass that up? It was everything that everyone told you to steer clear of. It didn’t help that Eddie was also insanely kind to you, never asking prying questions or judging you—it made him even more attainable in your eyes. But alas, you couldn’t ever justify any of it to him, not without making an embarrassment of yourself if he rejected you.

But the rain hits about five minutes from Eddie’s house and the trail of trees are doing nothing to aid as cover from the storm. Your pace picks up, shoes squeaking against the pavement until you were nearly running, racing down the trail that led to the small cul de sac of trailers, knocking on Eddie’s door with a ferocity that could be mistaken for an intruder.

It’s much too late to turn back when Eddie’s uncle answers the door instead of him, turning quickly to realize that Eddie wasn’t even home, his van not parked in the driveway like it usually was.

Wayne has a crease in his brow, unlit cigarettes tucked between his lips as if he was planning to go for a smoke. His face softens at the sight of you, hair soaked over your shoulders and your practice clothes sticking to your skin—a thin top and an even thinner pair of shorts that had you shivering despite the humid, end of summer heat.

“Hey, kid—you didn’t get a ride with my nephew?” Wayne asks through the screen door.

You squint, rain still trickling down your face, though it’s slightly lighter now.

“Yeah, he uh—I needed to return something to him, he doesn’t know I’m here. I thought he would be home by now.” You explain, wiping your face weakly.

“Ah shit—just come inside, kid.” Wayne relents, opening the door. “I’m headed up to the plant but I’m sure he’ll be home soon—probably headed over to Rick’s for a bit.”

Reefer Rick was nothing but an anomaly in your mind, someone you always heard about but never saw. You only knew so much that Eddie received his drugs from him, but not much else—and frankly, you’d like to keep it that way.

“Are you sure?” You ask hesitantly, “I don’t want to intrude, sir.”

Wayne scoffs kindly at the endearment. He was a nice man, quiet more often than not, but he always meant well. He was still a stranger though, despite how often you saw him. If it weren’t for the familiarity you would’ve ran the other direction.

“Of course—you can clean up in the shower if you need to.” He says, motioning behind him with his thumb extended, “I’ll lock up behind me—and if Eddie doesn’t at least give you a ride home in this storm, I’ll give him hell come tomorrow morning.”

You smile warmly, nodding in response. “I think I’ll take you up on the offer,” You tell him, wanting nothing more than to be out of your wet clothes, “hopefully Eddie doesn’t mind lending me some clothes.”

“Can’t see why not.” He says, allowing you inside before slipping past you in silence, “I’ll see you around, kid.”

You smile politely, “You too, Mr. Munson.”

Again, another name he dislikes. But, you couldn’t help it. He understands you probably came from a family that stuck with the propers and addressed people more formally—it’s just another reminder that Eddie didn’t grow up like everyone else. Like a normal family.

When the door is shut and locked, the silence hits you hard. Aside from the gentle hum of electricity running throughout the trailer and the buzz of the lights, it was eerie. It made you miss Eddie’s blaring music that he liked to play in his bedroom, surely annoying every neighbor within a five mile stretch.

You heave a heavy sigh and trek toward the back of the trailer, remaining cautious about the water dripping from you—having toed your shoes off at the door to help with that. The bathroom is tiny, barely big enough to fit the necessities, a stand up shower in the place of what would normally be a bathtub, but you’re not one to complain. You fiddle with the faucet handle for a while, adjusting it until the water ran hot and swiped the curtain close to trap in the heat.

Your clothes fell to the floor in a wet mess, realizing much too late that you didn’t have anything of yours to put on—clothes were obvious, but the problem lies within your soaked bra and underwear. It was a problem you could deal with later, naked body shivering in the stagnant air. You slip into the shower quickly, letting out an audible sigh as the heat hits your body and suddenly everything is fixed.

It was a wasted trip to Rick’s unfortunately, he was low on his stash, sending Eddie home empty handed for the weekend.

The stress of the day was enough to knock Eddie on his ass the second he stepped inside the trailer—not to mention having lost his D&D notebook earlier in the day and having nothing for Hellfire that night, scribbling most of it down from memory in an attempt to make do. His keys clatter against the counter, palm rubbing over his face in exhaustion as he slips his shoes off, stumbling over another pair in the process.

And unless Wayne had decided to take a night off and not give him a warning ahead of time, he might regret trailing any further inside the trailer—and that’s when it dawns on Eddie, the shower running in the background.

He takes it all in—shoes, shower, his eyes wander further, scanning for anything else—his eyes land on a bag, soaked and sitting on the kitchen floor, his notebook peeking out of the unzipped zipper.

“What the fuck?” He mumbles to himself, snatching the backpack up into his hands. He pulls the notebook out and tosses it aside, thankfully it had been unscathed from the rain.

But, he could spot this bag anywhere. He saw it every day, stared at it in the back of his English class when he was bored out of his goddamn mind.

So, unless his conclusion was more fucked than what was probably going on, you had to be somewhere inside his trailer—and with narrowing it down, that probably meant the shower. He glanced at the clock, knowing that Wayne had to be gone; there was no way in hell he was taking a day off unless he was sick and bed-ridden.

He hears the faucet turn off from where he’s standing, dropping the bag on the counter. He can’t decide if he should approach or stay back, but it’s too late to decide before you’re stepping out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around your body, using another to squeeze out the extra water from your hair.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice travels, a smirk growing on his face, “but what the hell are you doing in my trailer, alone?”

You panic, having not expected him to be standing in the kitchen when you stepped, hoping you had enough time to shower and get dressed—but unfortunately, this was your reality.

“Jesus, Eddie.” You exclaim, palm pressed over your chest to calm your rapidly beating heart. You toss the towel on the floor with your soaked clothes, turning to him. “I—your notebook, you left it in class.”

“What?” Eddie asks dumbfounded.

“Your notebook—you left it.” You explain slower, taking a few steps into the living room and passing a small distance toward the kitchen, poised on the opposite side of the counter where Eddie was standing. “I figured it was important so I wanted to get it back to you.”

“Did you look inside it?” Eddie presses, but it wasn’t like you didn’t already know his nerdy tendencies. “And you couldn’t have waited?”

“No—and no.” You tell him, “I tried giving it to you after practice but the building was locked and I needed to buy off you, so I figured two birds, one stone, you know?”

You step back slightly and Eddie’s eyes follow—you weren’t naive, he was checking you out. You didn’t mind though, despite how awkward the situation was.

“Your uncle let me inside,” You explain, “I walked here and it started pouring, my clothes are soaking wet.”

“And that’s my problem?” Eddie asks meanly, though it comes off as more teasing than anything. Eddie couldn’t be mean to you if he tried.

“Yes,” You challenge, “I need to borrow some clothes.”

Eddie laughs slightly, fingers tapping against the countertop quietly, rings clanking against the surface. His tongue pokes at his cheek, eyes traveling your mostly bare figure, “Fine, follow me.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, following closely behind.

“I would have taken them regardless.” You retort quietly and Eddie howls a laugh over his shoulder.

“Sweetheart, I was messing with you.” Eddie responds smugly, “What kind of guy do you take me for?”

“I don’t take you for anything,” You tell him honestly, “I know what people say about you but what does that matter?”

The words hit Eddie deeper than he anticipates, glaring at the floor as he stops at the threshold of his room, seeing you follow behind in the mirror stretching the expanse of his wall. He’s suddenly dry in the mouth and at a loss for words, realizing the gravity of the situation—even if it wasn’t that big of a deal.

A naked girl in his house, his bedroom—one that he couldn’t help but have a crush on despite every sign telling him he shouldn’t, and she didn’t hate him. Karma had a hell of a way of working its magic and he couldn’t trust this for a second. So, despite his immediate reaction to be flustered and searching for the right words, he slips the mask back on.

“Maybe it’s true,” He shrugs, raising his arm up to let you slip under, walking in front of him and toward his dresser, “top is shirts, bottom is pants—“

You grab a shirt wordlessly, one of Eddie’s Hellfire shirts. He had a few, something that could be noted with a quick glance in his drawer, before you’re pulling out an old pair of cotton sweatpants from the next drawer, tossing them on the bed.

“—is that all,” Eddie asks curiously, leaning against the doorframe, “just a shirt and pants?”

“Everything was soaked, Eddie.” You stressed, eyes glaring at him. “Do you mind?”

“No.” He grins devilishly, not bothering to turn away.

There was no way you were letting him get away with this.

“Fine.” You respond with a shrug, calling his bluff.

You drop the towel without warning and Eddie visibly tenses, only catching the side of your breasts as you turn to slip the shirt over your head, ass on full display.

Eddie’s never been so intimidated in his life. But, he wasn’t giving in that easily.

You pull the sweatpants over your hips and turn to him, eyebrow cocked up intimidatingly. “Enjoy yourself?”

Eddie takes a careful glance at you, stopping on his shirt.

“Actually—do you mind picking something else?” Eddie asks, finger coming up to tug at the sleeve, “This is one of my favorites.”

Your shoulders slump, eyes boring into his, the corners of his lips crinkling as he grinned. “You’re kidding?”

“Dead serious.” He answers quickly.

You slip the shirt off in one go, not giving him much of a chance to enjoy the view, hurling the material at his face.

“Hey,” His voice is muffled, grabbing the shirt out of annoyance and balling it up, tossing it somewhere in his room—you couldn’t be bothered to care, pulling the new shirt over your head, “—look, I’m sorry.”

“For?” You ask, arms crossing over your chest as you look at him. “Being annoying? Obnoxious, irritating—“

“Okay, okay—“ Eddie says with a laugh, hoping it stops your relentless attempt to belittle him. “I was joking, I didn’t think you’d, you know…”

“So, you didn’t want me to strip naked in front of you?” You ask teasingly, returning that bite of mean right back at him. “Damn, that sucks.”

You attempt to shove past him, trying to hurry up the process and get out of there, feeling that if you stayed any longer you would just embarrass yourself further.

You never make it past Eddie, his hand pressed flat against your stomach in an effort to stop you. You glance down at his hand for a moment too long and Eddie thinks that is the overstep—not everything that happened just a few seconds prior.

“Sorry,” He says quickly, “I just—I was going to tell you that I don’t have anything to sell. I’m out until next week. But, I can give you a ride home, if you need it.”

“Unless you want me sleeping here, yeah.” You retort flippantly.

Eddie doesn’t respond, letting you shove past and gathering your things, shoes still soaked ridiculously. You sigh, squatting down by the door to turn your shoes upside down, the water dripping from the laces and creating a puddle.

Eddie watches from a few feet away, hip leaning against the counter, “I don’t mind—if you want to sleep here.”

“I just need a few hours, maybe two if I can dry them out somehow.”

And truthfully, the easier option would be to sleep it off and deal with it tomorrow, the rain back to its original heavy downpour. The thunder crackles ominously and Eddie smiles slightly, less condescending and more welcoming.

“I didn’t say thank you for bringing that all the way here,” Eddie notes, “so, thank you.”

“You don’t have to—“

“You could’ve just left it but you didn’t.” Eddie shrugs, nodding toward the couch wordlessly. You’re hesitant at first, knowing that you and Eddie didn’t do these things. You didn’t talk, not really—and you definitely didn’t hang out. Social cliques handled that well enough.

“Well, if it was me I would hope that someone would return the favor.” You tell him honestly, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch, bare feet pressed into the cushion separating you both.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Eddie tells you randomly, idle hand pulling at the loose threads on the arm of the couch.

“You didn’t.” You smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Trust me, you would know.”

“Good.” Eddie smiles to himself. “Good.”

You snort softly, “So, can I ask what’s in the notebook?”

“Do you really want to know?” Eddie asks hesitantly.

“Yeah,” You nod, grinning at him, “besides, what else are we supposed to do all night?”

Eddie’s never flushed so red, ears burning with embarrassment. You laugh quietly at his inability to hide his bashfulness, the chain connected to his pants jingling as he walked, fetching the notebook from its place.

“Uh, it’s kinda confusing,” Eddie admits, taking a closer seat beside you, “so it would probably make no sense even if I tried to explain it.”

You reposition your feet under you, sitting on your heels. Eddie’s book is filled with countless scribblings and drawings, not a single page blank as he lets you flip through slowly, taking in the detail Eddie puts into his art.

“Eddie, this is really good.” You tell him honestly, running your finger along the lines of a rather menacing figure, deathly and sickening looking, covered in a hooded cape. “I didn’t know you could draw like this.”

“It’s not—“ Eddie starts uneasily, gearing to say something self-deprecating.

“Shut up,” You tell him quickly, “don’t even say it.”

Eddie laughs at that, your face serious despite the smile that breaks out on his face. He’s never taken a compliment in his life, but for some reason, he listens.

“Thanks.” He tells you softly, closing the book and placing it on the table placed in front of the couch.

Admittedly, you weren’t sure what to expect from Eddie. He’s always been a mystery to you, aside from the things people said about him.

“Why do you let people talk about you the way they do?” You ask curiously, head tilted to rest against the couch.

“Why disprove what’s true,” Eddie shrugs, “that reminds me, I’ve got a sacrifice to attend later tonight—“

“Eddie,” You linger on his name, eyeing him pointedly, “I’m serious.”

He shrugs wordlessly, twisting his rings absentmindedly, “I can’t be bothered to give a shit what people think about me.”

You’re silent, Eddie’s gaze downturned toward the floor.

“Aren’t you breaking all types of rules by talking to me—I thought you cheerleaders only associated with Jason and his band of assholes?”

You snort in amusement, shoving Eddie gently with your foot.

“Is that all you take me for?” You ask teasingly, “A cheerleader?”

Eddie shrugs, he couldn’t explain his attraction toward you—earlier actions aside, he’s always been intrigued by you. The act of wanting what he knew he couldn’t have.

And you can’t tell if Eddie is trying to act coy, or he’s just shy—you’d never take him for the type, but sitting here with him now his personality had taken a quick turn. His usual hard exterior was a lot softer around the edges. Eddie glanced at you sparingly, pulling at the frayed material of his ripped jeans.

“Come here.” You urge him suddenly, using the small ounce of courage you had in your body to take a chance, extending your hand for him to move closer.

Eddie’s apprehensive in a way, allowing himself to scoot as close as possible, your legs extending over his lap.

“Answer the question, Eddie.” You order him softly, “Am I just some cheerleader to you? Is that why you like me?”

His stomach is in his throat, staring you down with comically wide eyes, his bangs curtaining over his forehead messily. Eddie shakes his head wordlessly.

“So you do?” You ask with a faint smugness, “Like me?”

“Am I that obvious?.” Eddie asks with a chuckle.

You shake your head, “No, actually—but that shit you pulled earlier…kinda gave you away.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it either.” He counters, fingers pressing into the soft cotton of his sweatpants on your body, “Now look who’s sitting here in my clothes.”

“Because I was soaked.” You defend.

“After walking five minutes in the rain just to return my notebook.” Eddie points out, “That you could’ve returned to me on Monday—yet, here you are.”

The tension is thick, Eddie’s plush lips on full display as his jaw tensed. Your fingers wander, the guitar pick around his neck tickling your palm as you examine it, speaking idly.

“What a genius,” You snark playfully, “Say, what’s your policy on kissing customers?”

“Hard no,” Eddie smiles, lying through his teeth, “why?”

“Damn.” You curse, eyes flicking up towards him. He’s got a heat behind his gaze, the warmness of his brown eyes comforting you, oddly enough. “That’s too bad.”

“But, I think I can make an exception.” Eddie adds, the fingers that trailed down your leg now sneaking up under your chin, tilting your face up slightly. “Right?”

“It’s only fair,” You agree, “seeing as I came all this way for nothing.”

You both knew it was a lie. Regardless, you would’ve ended up in this situation at some point.

“Come here.” Eddie says patronizingly, teasing you for earlier.

You pull forward slowly, Eddie’s lips barely grazing yours as his thumb runs along your chin, tugging at your bottom lip slightly to part them, his lips pressing against them gently. You press forward eagerly, nearly shifting into Eddie’s lap, but he’s quick to stop you.

“Slow,” He stresses, pulling back to look at you, half-lidded eyes gazing into yours, “we’ve got all night, right?”

You smile through a laugh, nodding slowly in response.

“All night,” You confirm, “it seems you’ve already got a few ideas to keep us busy.”

“I’ve got plenty.” Eddie says lowly, leaning forward to run his tongue against your top lip teasingly, “if you’re up for it.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” You breathe out against his mouth, “and I’m pretty competitive, so—“

“Perfect.” Eddie grins with an edge that you can’t decipher, gripping your chin between his fingers to pull you even closer, “So am I.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #my writing #perv!eddie

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littledollll · 1 year

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Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a Larissa Weems x fem reader fic? Reader is an outcast too, she can control people's dreams (for better or for worse) however she can't control her own, and she's the language teacher at Nevermore and her and Larissa have been dating for a little while now. One night she has a really bad nightmare about something from the past, Larissa manages to wake her up from it; as reader had been clawing at her own skin, making it bleed etc and when she wakes up larissa has her arms pinned and is trying to calm her down? Like laying on top of her trying to level out her breathing, kissing her cheek as she whispers "You're okay, you're okay." Like Larissa baby-ing her, that kind of thing? I'm sorry if this is a little long

I’ll keep you safe

Larissa Weems x outcast!reader

Warnings: annoying teenagers٫ Stress٫ nightmares٫ unintentional self harm(it’s not too focused on), being physically restrained, idk what else

A/n: Anon i have to say, i loved this request so much i got down like 6 paragraphs in about 10 minutes, instant ideas so thank you!!, I chose Spanish since you didn’t specify and it’s my first language (in short im lazy)

“We’re doing oral reports in two weeks! I want you all to pick a topic of interest and do research on it, this will have to include a progress turn in every two days, I don’t want you guys doing it all last minute, that’s one grade. Then your written work, just what you’re going to say up front so I can follow along and assist you when you need it! That’s another grade. The final grade will be your oral report, there’s different criteria I will be reviewing but that will be in a handout I’ll give you guys on Monday we will discuss it then!”

You can hear the collective groaning and complains coming from all sides of the class, “wait when do the two weeks start”, people trying to convince you to do something else, “Would you consider adding more time?”, those asking if they can skip the oral part and just to the other two things, and the two or three going “oh does it have to be in Spanish” like it’s not the whole point of the class and assignment.

“It will be three easy grades don’t let me down guys! Yes I know how much you guys hate it but it’s in the curriculum and you will need this depending on what you want to do in the future. You! Yes my love we can negotiate the turn in period, don’t worry”

“No I am not changing the assignment! No you can’t NOT do the oral report, you will lose a full grade unless you can give me a justified reason as to why you can’t speak up front. Yes it has to be in Spanish that’s the whole point, please calm down!”

“I will give you all nightmares if you don’t stop complaining!” The whole class went silent. Finally. “But I can just as easily help you guys out if you just behave and ask nicely. As I said the details will all be discussed on Monday so stop screaming at me, class time is already over, we could all be in our rooms by now if you guys didn’t throw a tantrum”

Your abilities as an outcast were something you genuinely loved about yourself, being able to control others dreams came in handy more than you’d think. You’d use dreams to give extra practice for those who asked (which was mostly the music, choir, theater kids), those who needed extra study time for tests, when you knew your students needed comfort or a safe space, specially since you could allow them to remember their dreams. It being the last class of the day you dismissed them and headed to Larissa’s office.

————————————————————

Once you came in Larissa greeted you. “You seem rather annoyed.. stressed? did something happen, beloved?”

“Just my last class, I assigned oral reports and they are not happy about it, i mean they were basically screaming at me about it, I love them, really, I do but they don’t know how to listen!” You sighed, coming around her desk and wrapping your arms around her behind her chair.

“Who would have thought advanced Spanish students would hate Spanish so much! I know it’s not personal but the way they groan and complain isn’t that encouraging either, just makes me feel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

Larissa’s hands soothed over your arms, taking one of your hands in hers and kissing it. “You’re the cool teacher, they aren’t used to not doing “fun” things in class, they’ll come around٫ love. Is there anything I could help you with?”

You groaned, hiding in her neck. “No, you’re right, I’m sure they’ll be better Monday once I explain.” Larissa nodded.

“30 minutes and we’ll get out of here, alright?” Teachers got out one hour before the principal, leaving you to wait for her everyday. You nodded and went over to one of the armchairs٫ pulling out your phone and deciding to answer emails.

You whined, dramatically putting your head on her desk, she chuckled. “More complains?” “You think they understand what “I’ll explain on Monday” means?”

They were stressing you out even more, and in your experience٫ Stress means nightmares.

————————————————————

“Love?” Larissa woke up to your squirming she thought you just couldn’t sleep, then she heard the whimpers, from there it somehow got worse so fast. The way your hands gripped your arms, your hair, how you curled into yourself, what broke Larissa out of her trance was a sob that tore through your throat. It was enough to spring her into action as she forced the sleep from her mind.

She was trying to be gentle, you were scared enough, frantic, she didn’t want any sudden movements to hurt her or you. First she tried to grab one arm, trying to shake you awake. “Angel?-“ she gave up on that quickly as she saw the cuts made from your own nails that ran down your arm and how you tore away from her just to claw at your own skin, alright option two. She straddled your legs to stop the kicking, taking your hands pinning them down.

She settled for talking you down as her thumb rubbed over your palms in what she hopped would be a calming notion “you’re okay sweetheart, you’re our room my love, it’s just us.” Your squirming died down but you were still tense, your complains and whimpers never stopped, the way you were gripping her hands was clear sign the squirming stoped merely because she essentially forced it.

“Oh my darling girl.. it’s me, my love it’s Rissa, it’s just a nightmare, my sweet, listen to me.” When you calmed slightly more she decided it was safe to loosen her hold and lean over to turn the lamp on. “It’s time to wake up darling.”

The way you snapped awake made her heart clench. How unsettled you looked, the way you looked around the room and eventually up at her, pupils blown wide panic written all over your face. She smiled at you reassuringly and leaned down kissing your cheek and forehead. “It’s okay, my sweet little love. You’re okay with me, angel.”

She didn’t want to fully surround you, it would be too much while you’re already panicked, but she also couldn’t afford you hurting either of them in that state, so she waited, and spoke softly. “You are in Nevermore, in our room, in our bed.” Larissa deemed it safe enough to let go of your arms, gently cupping your face. “I know, my love that you’re scared, but I’m with you, I’ll protect you for anything and anyone, you are safe, 100% safe, I’ll make sure of that, yeah?” You only nodded.

Larissa gave you a second. “Would you like me to move away?” You shook your head, wanting to cry at the thought, she saw it, and moved slowly, moving to your side and turning you with her, she hugged you tight and purposely slowed her breathing for you to follow, you of course did. She only hugged you tighter when she felt your arms coming shyly around her and you hid into her chest.

“I’m not expecting you to tell me what you just lived, nor am I asking, but if you want to my love, I will listen.” You shook your head again. “You hurt yourself angel, a lot, we have to take care of that later okay? But I’ll take care of you, I’ll keep you safe every second.” You frowned and looked up at her. “How can you be so sure..” you barely mumbled out. “Well because I risked a slap across the face to save you from you.” You giggled. “I’m- very sorry.”

She pinned you down and furrowed her brows. “Are you apologizing for having a nightmare?” She kissed the tip of your nose. “Is that stupid?” A kiss to your cheek this time. “Did you cause the nightmare?” Now on the other side. “No! you know I can’t- ohhhh” she pressed a final kiss against your lips and moved to look at you, making you smile. “Right, so it’s not your fault, which means you don’t have to apologize for that, my beautiful beautiful girl.” You blushed at that, hiding your face in your hands.

“Would you like to try going back to sleep?” She asked as she moved the lay beside you, and you shook your head, curling into her. “Darling, you got here exhausted.. you still are. I’ll wake you if the nightmares start again, and the lamp will stay on.” You didn’t say anything, instead pulled yourself closer to her and closed your eyes, she smiled. “Sweet dreams, angel, you’ll be okay with me, I promise.”

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal weems #wednesday nevermore #wedneday #wednesday weems

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drdemonprince · 3 months

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what made you choose a deer for your fursona?

It's a long story that I am all too happy to tell!

I first attended Midwest Furfest in 2018, after years of being curious about it. My boyfriend at the time was a member of the Neo-Futurists Theater, and the Neo's had a longstanding relationship with the MFF community. They perform their flagship show (Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind, later rebranded as The Infinite Whale) there every year, and when the theater company's former founder attempted to steal their show name/copyright following his ousting due to sexual assault allegations, MFF really came through to offer considerable moral support.

There was lots of goodhearted joking about the furry community within that theater space, and I'd always been curious about furries and a supporter of them in heart if not in fact, and so I finally decided one year to tag along, see my boyfriend performing there, and walk around the convention floor and visit the dealer's den during my down time.

I absolutely LOVED IT. I was completely blown away by the artistry of the suits and the playful spirit of the suiters. I ran into a few friends there, outing them as furries to me, and we grew closer. I also took notice of some teal, sparkly resin antlers while I was in the Dealer's Den:

I snapped those things up and put them on immediately. Some stranger started to pet me right away (which is technically a convention consent violation, and should *not* be done, but I personally was the opposite of troubled by being treated in this way) and I was hooked.

I had always had a "thing" for antlers and horns since playing the PS2 game Ico back in the early 2000's. The young male protagonists horns representing an unwanted appendage and a visible "curse" was very appealing to me... as a boy who had been saddled with two very unwanted appendages of my own. (trangsender). I also have had many very magical encounters with deer in Ohio and Pennsylvania where I grew up. As a skiddish bottomy freak whose caused a lot of car accidents, a prey animal that also has the power to kill people in vehicles seemed plenty apt. So when I found some antlers to wear, it seemed like a natural enough fit for a potential fursona.

Then my friend @jettvector designed my fursona, using the teal antlers as a jumping off point. (this art has his old watermark on it, but he goes by jettvector now. commission him!):

Now that I had a friend-assigned fursona and was officially a furry, I ran with it, and began commissioning some art that further refined my image of the character:

this is from 9inko on Instagram

this one is from @heresvix, who specializes in deer

and this one is from @murgzt . I am currently having a partial fursuit of this iteration of the character made by Daring Duck Designs!! :0

A few things that I love about my sona's design: I love that his ears are big and really stick out, as my ears do the same, I love that he has a spot reflecting my monroe piercing, I love that deers are spotted in general, which can allow me to recast my own bacne scars in a more positive light, and i love that his greenish teal skin reflects my own olive complection (which I used to get a lot of weird comments about as a kid and felt self conscious about).

I also accumulated some gear in the meantime that allowed me to better embody my deersona, who I now call DD (which stands for Deer Devon, Docile Deer, Devon Dawn, my former DD tits, or any numer of potential things haha)

Hood by Miss Kinky Latex UK, photo by @photopotamus.

I have become a little bit more of a furry with each passing year, and it wouldn't have been possible without the hard work and creativity of so many people within the fandom, many of whom are beloved friends. <3 That's part of what makes it so special. Thanks for asking!

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stayteezdreams · 7 months

Text

Lost In You: Part Two

Plot: It's finally the night you and Seonghwa planned to meet up again. Neither of you can hide your excitement at the prospect of spending more time together.

-Part One-

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Gn!Reader

-Meet-Cute Series-

Words: 1.6k

As your phone vibrated in your pocket for the fifth time, you ignored it, knowing it was your best friend asking how your date was going. And you didn't feel like explaining for the fifth time, that you had JUST met up, nothing had happened yet.

Walking up to Seonghwa, who now had your tickets in hand, he grinned at you, his smile a mix between adoration and amusement. His eyes drifted to the plethora of snacks in your arms, as well as the two large drinks you somehow managed to carry as well.

He spoke with a soft laugh, "The movie's barely two hours long!"

"Should I have gotten more then?" You asked, clearly joking.

He chuckled and shook his head, taking the drinks from you. As he helped relieve some of the load you were carrying, you couldn't help but admire him. He was just as gorgeous (if not more so), out of costume as he was in it. And every time he smiled at you, you swear you felt yourself swoon.

Excitement and restlessness filled you as you and Seonghwa found your seats in the theater. You were excited for the movie and excited to be here with someone who seemed to share the same nerdy interests as you. But you were nervous as well, you couldn't help but feel out of his league, and out of place with someone who had eyes follow him naturally wherever he went. Something you couldn't help but notice as you walked through the mall to the theater.

Seonghwa didn't seem to notice, or was unfazed by it, which amazed you in itself. You felt as though you were under a microscope, even though you weren't even the one being stared at.

It was true that Seonghwa did feel the eyes on him and it was true that he was fairly used to it. But he didn't care, because his eyes were only on you. He found your excitement endearing and contagious and your company was more comforting than he could imagine.

He had only known you a hand full of hours over the course of two separate days, and he already knew he was lost to you, lost in you, and he was already thinking of other ways to spend time with you after today.

After silence filled the theater, you and Seonghwa sunk comfortably into your seats, excitement radiated off of both of you as you shared knowing smiles.

Throughout the movie, the two of you had leaned closer to one another, your shoulders now pressed together so you could share comments and ideas about the movie without disturbing others in the theater.

During one scene in particular, you giggled to yourself, and Seonghwa's eyes naturally glanced over at you. You were still leaned close to him, and his eyes grazed over your profile. The light changed constantly on your face as the movie played, and it made it seem as though the light was dancing in your eyes.

Seonghwa smiled softly to himself as he stared at you, feeling as though he was only getting even more lost in your presence. Part of him wished your first date, if he was allowed to call it that, was in a movie theater. All he wanted to do was hear you talk, and laugh. But that only made him more determined to spend more time with you.

His heart jumped in his chest when you turned to look at him, causing him to realize that he had now been caught staring.

As your eyes locked with Seonghwas you felt your face burn hot. He had already been looking at you, but for how long?

Eyes now locked, the tension was thick between you. He didn't avert his gaze, but instead held firm. You were lost for words and almost frozen at the interaction. Slowly, Seonghwas eyes, not so subtly moved to your lips, though they only lingered for a short moment before he met your eyes again.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but as a loud sound played in the movie, you both jolted before looking back at the screen. The eye contact and tension now broken. You could both see the other smiling bashfully to yourselves from the corners of your eyes.

You both managed to focus on the movie again, neither of you spared a glance at the other, though you were both tempted multiple times.

When the movie finally ended, the two of you made your way back into the almost surreal atmosphere of the mall. The time of day was now lost on you, as you both stretched your bodies.

"That was so good." Seonghwa said with a grin and you looked over to meet his gaze, nodding in agreement.

"It really was."

Making your way to the food court, where you had agreed to eat at after the movie. You both talked animatedly about the movie, future projects, and a variety of other topics most of your friends would deem "nerdy", until your food was all eaten.

You leaned back in your seat and looked around, noting the various eyes of various passersby that lingered on Seonghwa. You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped your mouth and Seonghwa rose his brow.

"What?"

You smiled, "You notice it right? You have to." You looked pointedly at a small group of women nearby who were taking not so subtle looks at him and whispering to each other.

Seonghwa scoffed in amusement and nodded, "I notice."

"Does it ever get on your nerves?"

He shrugged "Not much anymore, I can ignore it pretty easily. Especially when I'm with someone I actually want the attention of." He made a point of looking directly at you when he spoke and you smiled softly, feeling your face grow warm.

Seonghwa leaned forward and kept his eyes locked on you. "Can I admit something?"

You felt your heart skip and you nodded, remaining silent.

He kept a soft smile on his face as he spoke, though his eyes darted from you to his hands a few times out of nervousness.

"I really don't want this to end."

You bit the inside of your lip as you returned his smile. "Neither do I."

His smile widened as relief and warmth washed over him. Taking some of the courage he had built up, he reached forward and gently took your hands in his. You watched as he flipped your hands over and softly ran his fingers over your palms, as if it was calming him.

"Will you stay with me then? For a while longer at least?"

You nodded, "But what will we do?" You asked curiously, though admittedly you could just sit and talk for hours with him and never be bored.

"Anything. I'll do anything as long as it's with you."

You felt your heart in your throat as heat rose up your neck and ears. You were sure his words effected you to the point it was obvious on your face.

And you were right. Seonghwa chuckled softly as he spoke again, "I'm sorry am I making you uncomfortable?"

You shook your head quickly. "No, not at all. It's just...I'm not used to someone being so openly interested in me. Especially someone as clearly popular and desired as you are." You chuckled awkwardly sparing another glance at the still-lingering group of women nearby.

It was true, this was the first time in a long while you had connected so well with someone and felt an equal attraction to each other. Especially someone like Seonghwa.

Seonghwa smiled at you and shook his head softly as he squeezed your hands gently. He was sad that you had thoughts of being out of his league, when in reality he thought you were way out of his.

"I am more than just interested in you Y/n. And I guess I'm open about it because I've never felt this before. This instant and intense attraction to someone...it excites me and scares me, but I don't want it to slip away. So I'm telling you, so you know for certain how I feel."

If you thought your heart couldn't beat faster than before, you were wrong, as it now vibrated almost painfully in your chest.

You squeezed his hand in return, "I feel it too. And I have to admit I'm also a bit scared. But it's an exciting sort of fear."

He nodded his head with a grin, knowing you were feeling exactly what he was. "That's exactly it."

You grinned at each other, letting the feelings sit in the air between you for a moment before Seonghwa looked around. His eyes landed on the small group of women and he noticed their movements, as though they were preparing to approach him.

Suddenly standing, he still held your hands in his and grinned down at you. "Let's go."

You stood up, "Where?"

He shook his head a bit as he held your hand, as you both walked away from the food court and away from the women. "Anywhere. We'll figure it out." He chuckled.

You let out your own chuckle as you followed his lead. Glancing back at the women, you noticed they watched the two of you with almost disappointed gazes.

You would normally feel uneasy or even annoyed. But instead you smiled, amused, and happy that you could feel Seonghwa's genuine feelings towards you. Because you could tell, that he would have chosen you anyways.

And you couldn't help but think of all the things you could tell your friend now that something had actually happened. You could practically hear her screaming already.

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about the ending, but its late at night, I'm stressed and half-asleep, so it is what it is lol.

General Taglist: @otsilliak

Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog

Series Taglist: @bubblesreplies, @halesandy, @why-am-i-sad, @acciocriativity

#Seonghwa x Reader #seonghwa/reader #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa imagine #ateez x reader #ateez/reader #ateez imagine #seonghwa fic #ateez fic #park seonghwa fluff #meet cute series #lost in you part two #ateez meet cute #park seonghwa meet cute #ateez fanfic #park seonghwa fanfic

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daresplaining · 7 months

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An Interview with Christine Hanefalk

Christine Hanefalk created her blog, The Other Murdock Papers, in 2007 as a place to discuss and share her interest in Matt Murdock and his world. Over the years, she has become one of the most compelling and influential voices within the Daredevil fan community, even making a cameo appearance in the comic itself in Daredevil volume 3 #31. In 2022 she published Being Matt Murdock, a passion project centered around an area of particular fascination: Matt's legendary hypersenses. The book weaves real-world science into the vast Daredevil canon to explore the notion that Daredevil's powers, though superhuman, are not – and do not need to be – as divorced from reality as one might think.

Christine was kind enough to answer my questions about the book, and about her nearly twenty-year-long fascination with the Man Without Fear. Read the interview below...

Daresplaining: I know many people will be familiar with your blog and your longtime interest in Matt Murdock's sensory world, but could you say a little about how Being Matt Murdock first came about, and how you approached writing and researching it?

Christine Hanefalk: I started The Other Murdock Papers in late 2007 and gradually allowed myself to start writing more about the scientific and sensory aspects of Daredevil as time went on. I was really worried it might turn people off, but the opposite was true and people really seemed to dig my deep dives. And so as far back as around 2012 I decided that, one of these days, I was going to try to write a whole book on the subject.

Despite the fact that it took me ten years to complete it, with most of the work being concentrated to the final 12-18 months before publication, I had actually done some writing early-on. I think I had about half of chapters one (on the literary history) and seven (on the sense of smell) written several years ago, along with various snippets and notes that I had filed away and was able to work into some of the other chapters. I had also consistently been keeping an eye out for anything new and interesting in the peer reviewed academic literature, and managed to amass – and read through – quite a collection of books on sensory neuroscience over the years.

When that “now or never” moment finally arrived, it lined up well with a period of time in my life where I was able to cut back on regular work and devote most of my time and energy to the book. I went over all of the stuff I’d already looked at before but with more focus, and got myself reacquainted with subjects I hadn’t really touched since college, such as thermodynamics. I also reread nearly all of the comics, taking very detailed notes on how and when Daredevil used his senses to get a better idea of the overall pattern. It’s not an understatement to say that I’ve spent upwards of 2,000 hours on this project over the years.

D: I understand that you were introduced to Daredevil through the 2003 movie. What drew you so strongly to Matt as a character? How much of a role has your fascination with his powers played in your continuing interest over the years?

CH: I grew up reading comics and enjoying sci-fi and superhero movies as a kid. I was born in 1977, so both the original Star Wars trilogy and the Superman franchise loomed large in my life when I got old enough to watch them. And while I eventually stopped reading superhero comics, I always had a special place in my heart for the genre and had a certain fascination with the general idea of superheroes. That eventually steered me in the direction of the Daredevil movie when it was released in video stores (I don’t think it even went up in theaters in my native Sweden).

The specifics of Matt Murdock’s power set was definitely one thing that gave this character an unusual kind of appeal to me. I had always been interested in the science of the senses – and what happens when one is missing – and had even written a paper on sensory compensation for my neuroscience class while I was an exchange student at the University of Rochester around the turn of the millennium.

There were additional things that made Daredevil interesting of course, such as his career as a lawyer, his overall personality, and the general mood of the world he inhabited, but the combination of his power set and my already having a soft spot for superheroes definitely piqued my interest right away. Within a few months of learning that Daredevil even existed, I had read pretty much everything he had ever appeared in.

D: Do you have a favorite sense, both in terms of your own research and as a Daredevil fan?

CH: I think I probably enjoyed researching hearing the most since there’s so much to cover. It’s also fascinating to me how hearing can be called on to perform spatial functions despite having this deceptively simple, linear, time-dependent form in terms of how it is received by the ear. The fact that it’s possible, even for quite ordinary humans, to sort of “see-hear” silent objects is fascinating to me.

However, if we look at Daredevil, I’d say that hearing has tended to be overused compared to both smell and touch. While hearing is often called on to perform near transcendental duties, smell tends to be forgotten by a lot of writers, probably in large part due to the fact that we humans seem to be less conscious of smells than we are of other sensory input. For the entire history of the comic, Daredevil has often gone several issues without any reference to smell, and the things he’s been smelling have often tended to not be very interesting. It’s always a treat to see smell being used in creative ways.

Still, the sense I would be even more interested in seeing more of in Daredevil is probably touch, which I also think is used less than it could be. Sure, there’s plenty of reading by touch (print or braille), but I still think we might be underestimating the importance of touch in Matt’s life, due in part to the high expectations of the radar sense (whatever we make of it). I view the “radar” as absolutely vital to everything Matt does as Daredevil, but I also see a much greater potential role for touch to work synergistically with such an ability.

D: Do you have a favorite new fact that you learned over the course of researching this book?

CH: Yes. I do think my coming across Jacob Twersky’s writing helped solidify the idea I had about how the concept of the radar sense may have originated. Blinded in childhood, Twersky would go on to become a champion collegiate wrestler, and later a historian and author. I read both his 1954 novel The Face of the Deep and his 1959 autobiography The Sound of the Walls while working on my own book. The way Twersky describes his sense of the obstacles around him in The Sound of the Walls struck me as shockingly similar to early descriptions of Daredevil’s radar sense, including the use of the term “radar” itself.

While I can’t know for sure whether anyone at Marvel was familiar with Twersky’s writing, it’s worth noting that he was a New Yorker and a contemporary of Stan Lee and many of the others in the Marvel bullpen back in the day. Whatever the case may be, it’s clear that the Marvel creators were not the first to use the word “radar” to describe the “obstacle sense of the blind,” as it was often known at the time. Over the years, and especially after having studied the early issues in great detail, I’ve definitely come to favor the idea that the “radar sense” wasn’t meant to be understood as a literal (electromagnetic) radar, though I should add that the understanding of the radar seems to have been all over the place for most of Daredevil history. Reading Twersky definitely added considerable weight to my interpretation of the early radar sense.

I also had some favorite epiphanies connected to the radar sense, one in particular which I think explains why Daredevil’s very particular way of being blind is often so difficult to make sense of for writers and fans alike. I recently wrote a rather lengthy post covering much of that stuff.

D: While taking a renewed deep dive into the source material, did you find yourself changing your opinion on anything?

CH: I should preface this by saying that there are definitely things I’ve changed my mind about over the years, even before I started most of the work on the book. I mentioned above that my understanding of the radar sense has shifted gradually, away from the more literal take the name suggests. Looking at the comics very carefully gives you even more of a sense that pinning down anything concrete here is going to be really difficult.

Revisting the comics has also given me a new appreciation for certain runs, such as the pre-Miller Bronze Age issues. This process has also led me to reassess my earlier assumptions that Daredevil’s senses have gone through some kind of steady evolution from Silver Age goofy to modern and grounded. This really isn’t the case, especially when you exclude some of the early outliers. You can find plenty of examples of both nonsensical and absolutely brilliant “senses writing” throughout the history of the comic, but I wouldn’t say that the treatment of the senses, or Matt’s blindness, have necessarily become more grounded on average.

D: You go into great detail about how much of Matt's sensory world has not been explored yet on the page. Is there any particular, specific experience that you would love to see depicted in future runs or adaptations?

CH: Contrary to what people might expect of me given my priors, I don’t necessarily think that there needs to be more stories about his senses, blindness and so on. However, I think these aspects of the character should be viewed as absolutely essential to how Daredevil is written, no matter what the particular storyline happens to be. I make a point in the book about how Daredevil is an amazingly interesting thought experiment, and I really believe that. So I’d really just wish for writers to be more comfortable running their scenes and stories through whatever their own version of this thought experiment happens to be and making sure that what’s on the page makes sense in light of that.

D: While researching other superpowered blind characters from the comics world and beyond, did you discover any new favorites? Can we expect a spin-off blog about Doctor Mid-Nite?

CH: Ha ha, no. It’s enough of a challenge keeping up with The Other Murdock Papers these days. As regular readers have undoubtedly noticed, I’ve been considerably less active there in recent years, having to do with work on the book as well as other real life stuff that’s competing for my time and attention. I do expect it to live on for many more years though, and I do update every once in a while. I’m definitely looking forward to writing about Daredevil: Born Again when that comes out, and we also have Echo coming out in early 2024.

D: What is your biggest Daredevil sensory pet peeve?

CH: To be honest, what bothers me more than all of the silly things put together is the suggestion that Daredevil can “see better than all of us,” is “not really blind,” and so on. As much as this might sound like the whole point of the character, it also takes much of the complexity out of what Daredevil does and how he does it. As blanket statements go, it just doesn’t hold up to scrutiny, unless we radically redefine what sight is, and what the other senses – even when heightened – actually do.

D: I love the scene in volume 3 #26 when Matt evades Ikari by changing his heart rate, even though logic would suggest that Ikari could still track him using his other senses, or even just other sounds. Do you have any favorite DD moments where you let sensory weirdnesses slide just because the scene is so compelling?

CH: While it’s a whole issue rather than a single scene, I really enjoyed what Mark Waid and Chris Samnee were attempting to do with the story that sees Matt attempt to escape Latveria while losing all of his senses. The scene I’m choosing to let slide here is when Matt seems to develop some kind of heat vision (it’s frankly unclear what it’s supposed to be) as his body tries to compensate. Whenever you see hints of thermal imaging in Daredevil, that’s an indication that he’s doing something that’s much further removed from how his senses should work than most people realize. It’s not something that follows naturally from heightened senses and is more like an entirely different kind of superpower.

I definitely tend to give a writer much more slack when 1) I'm enjoying the writing overall, and 2) said writer compensates to some degree by doing a good job of exploring, or at the very least remembering, that Matt is in fact blind.

D: What are your hopes for this book in regards to the impact it might have on how Daredevil is written in the future? What are the key takeaways that you hope fans and/or potential future Daredevil creators pull from it?

CH: If people reading this interview haven’t read Being Matt Murdock they may get the impression that it’s all a long list of “don’ts” or “can’ts,” but that’s a far cry from what I’ve attempted to do. I remember reading another superhero science book a few years ago that seemed to have as its central premise that “superpowers are stupid,” which didn’t feel particularly gratifying. I don’t see it that way at all. Sure, there are certainly characters whose powers read more like magic than anything else, but I don’t necessarily mind that. We don’t have to hold every character to any kind of scientific standard, and there definitely comes a point when taking this too far just takes the fun out of it.

When it comes to a character like Daredevil, however, I feel very strongly that bringing science into the picture has the potential to aid in the creative process rather than hinder it. Daredevil is relatively unusual in that he can exist comfortably in a kind of “reality next door.” His powers are not possible in our own universe, but they are not so far removed from our normal understanding of things that we can’t attempt to make sense of them and imagine what life would be like from his perspective. Because while no one has super hearing, most of us do have regular human hearing which detects the measurable and explainable phenomenon of sound.

There are naturally things about Daredevil that not even loosening the reins of biology will address – for instance, even a science-minded writer is likely going to have to break some of the laws of the physics of sound – but understanding how these phenomena unfold in the real world helps create a good structure for how Daredevil might operate. And I feel like I’ve come pretty close to presenting a coherent “view” of the world from Daredevil’s perspective in this book.

It would definitely be a dream come true to have this book inspire future Daredevil writers, but I obviously don’t have much control over that kind of stuff. I’ve been able to give out plenty of copies to past writers and artists though, ha ha. I would want incoming writers to know that science is their friend. And that understanding some of the science makes Daredevil even more fascinating.

D: If you were given the opportunity to actually experience the world the way Matt does for a day, would you take it?

CH: Absolutely! Mind you, I probably wouldn’t want to do it for longer than a day or two and I very much appreciate my standard issue eyesight, but I think it would be fascinating to explore his world. Though in this thought experiment, I would assume that I could experience things the way he does after years of getting used to it so it’s not too much of a shock to the system. Unlike what happened in the delightfully ridiculous story where Daredevil switched bodies with Doctor Doom, and Doom appeared to adjust on the spot and couldn’t even figure out that he was now blind, I would expect it to take months or even years to learn to navigate the world the way Matt does (superhero acrobatics not included). And it’s not just about being able to integrate different amounts and kinds of sensory information. It’s also a matter of acquiring the strategies that allow for combining this sensory information with real-world knowledge in order to handle the many ambiguities which remain in a world organized around people with a more standard set of human senses.

D: Do you have any book/article/etc. recommendations for someone wanting to expand their reading on the topics explored in the book?

CH: Among the books I’ve read that I would recommend for general audiences is David Eagleman’s The Brain: The Story of You as a good introduction to the brain. If people want to progress from there I also recommend Brainscapes by Rebecca Schwarzlose. I don’t make any explicit references to Brainscapes in my book, but it’s a very solid read for anyone who wants to learn more about the role of “brain maps” in guiding our experiences. For the senses themselves, there’s The Universal Sense by Seth S. Horowitz (about hearing), and What the Nose Knows by Avery Gilbert.

Another book I read years ago that is sort of “on-topic” is A Sense of the World: How a Blind Man Became History’s Greatest Traveler by Jason Roberts. It’s not one I reference in my own book, but I guess it’s “Daredevil adjacent.” It tells the absolutely fascinating true story of James Holman (1786-1857).

D: Beyond Being Matt Murdock and your blog, is there anything else you would like to promote/mention here?

CH: Not for the time being. Maybe there’ll be a second edition of Being Matt Murdock one day, but I don’t have any such plans for the foreseeable future. What I would like to do is take the opportunity to encourage people to tackle their own passion projects. For me, finalizing this project came down to realizing that if I were to be told I only had a year to live, I would want to prioritize finishing this book. That’s how much it meant to me. And when you feel that way about something, try to do whatever you can – as much as your current circumstances will allow – to give yourself that gift. Tackling something like this can be very daunting, and I definitely had to get over my fears of making mistakes and putting myself out there in order to do this. But I’m really glad that I finally did.

For more fun facts and information on Being Matt Murdock, and to purchase your own copy, visit www.scienceofdaredevil.com

For more of Christine Hanefalk's writing, visit www.theothermurdockpapers.com

#Christine Hanefalk #Being Matt Murdock #Daredevil #Matt Murdock #Quotes #Commentary

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creaman · 29 days

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Idk if I'm allowed to encourage this but everything you said about Kung fu Panda 4 is correct, it not only killed my grandma but massacred my bloodline. The only saving grace of that movie was the cute Dad stuff, and that the theater I watched it in had comfy reclining sofa chairs as seats.

Although you can make the point that Li and Ping 'distract from the film', being the B plot, they are genuinely the only good part of the movie. Again, you could argue that their absense would mean more time to develop the A plot, but their precense is the only funny and charming part of the film and the A plot had plenty of time.

The movie has the same runtime as its predecessors, but chose to spend near all of its time padding out the A plot with spoken exposition and filler chase sequences when it could have been fleshing out The Chameleon as a villain and developing Zhen and Po's dynamic.

Now taking this opportunity to talk about some of the secondary points I didn't get to cover in the primary post (hating is my passion)

Original Post

KFP4 spoilers again

Juniper City Sequence

A lot of the comedy is generic subversion — A statement followed by a verbal or visual contradiction which is standard, worn out and the laziest most predictable form of comedy.

There was also a scene that actually made me pause the movie and cackle; not from the humour, but from the sheer absurdity; — in which Po refers to himself as “—The Kung Fu Panda!”

Has never previously referred to himself as this

Has never been referred to as that by others

This is a genius scene which takes inspiration from the most memorable sequence in Kung Fu Panda 2, in which Lord Shen utters the chilling line, "You see, I need my Kung Fu Panda Too." (So powerful. Brought tears to my eyes.)

Smarmy. Arrogant. Unearned. Even if this was the Kung Fu Panda I knew and loved, what a pompous way to put it.

The Staff of Wisdom

It's pretty great. I tuned out all the lore, mostly because the first scene with this object is Po exclaiming "The staff of wisdom!" followed by nothing but exposition.

It's the implication that he's nothing without it, and that it embodies the Dragon Warrior. He's reduced to a staff which essentially has no function until the end. It sticks out in every scene because this meathead carries it everywhere, like its his house keys.

This one is a nitpick, but I think it looks stupid. It was fine in the third film because it functions as a little trophy for him, having defeated General Kai and finding peace with his identity — but it's too small for him, reads like a fucking lollipop and he looks ridiculous holding it because he doesn't use it in most of his scenes so it's just dead weight for the entire runtime.

The Final Act

This part is a little less structured — I had stopped taking proper notes and started typing 'WHY??' and 'FUCK YOU'.

The Kung Fu Masters. My favourite part of the film, as a Lord Shen enthusiast, was when they brought him in for two seconds and then had him sit in a cage with no spoken dialogue for the remainder of the sequence. Why are they here? Why is kung fu stored in the spirit? (pee is stored in the balls?)

Just tried to talk about the bowing scene again but I just know I'm going to give myself an aneurysm. Postponed.

The defeat of The Chameleon. Among the most memorable villain defeats, we bring you: head trauma.

The Amalgamation. Oh man. Sorcery was already a stretch in the worldbuilding of Kung Fu Panda. Now you're telling me The Chameleon can shift into a huge amalgamation of all the kung fu masters? This has nothing to do with kung fu anymore — artificially inflated as a threat by being... bigger.

Spoilers, She doesn't even do anything with this. Kind of just runs around snapping at their heels.

The Chameleon really doesn't utilise her abilities at all. She turns into Lord Shen to... to kick Po. Not to manipulate him psychologically or anything, but to... kick him. Alright.

They opted to make the fight sequence cool (by having the Chameleon shift between forms for no real purpose) but the fight scene is a nothing burger, in which no real damage is done to either party until Po busts out the pwn stick.

Closing Statements

I don't hate Kung Fu Panda 4 (blatant lie). I wanted the film to succeed, genuinely. But the state of it now...

Mess. Bury it.

#creaman-answer-sheet.pdf #creaman talks to drywall #kung fu panda 4 #kfp #hating on main #spoilers #vent again #discussion #criticism #you drive me to drink kung fu panda 4

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shion-yu · 3 months

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Hold Him While You Can

Cliff gets the flu and Elliot insists on being there for him. Inspired in part by this song by Stephen Sanchez. My piece for my final (yay!) @hurtcomfort-bingo space "Asphyxiation" and my @badthingshappenbingo space "Asthma Attack." Original work, 3,523 words. TWs: trauma r/t parental abuse

Cliff's managed to go eighteen years of his life without ever getting the flu, but his freshman year at NYU is when his luck runs out. He wakes up on the first of December with a headache and more tired than usual but doesn't think too much of it. Finals week is approaching quickly and Cliff's been studying with the intention of getting no less than perfect grades on all of his exams. He doesn't pay attention to nearly anything besides studying, other than his boyfriend Elliot.

Cliff doesn't call Elliot his boyfriend out loud, although Elliot calls Cliff that and Cliff knows that's what they are. They go on dates every weekend, usually multiple times per weekend, using Cliff's parents' annual memberships to various theaters to attend every play, opera and performance that interests Elliot. Elliot knows so much about this world - of course he does, he's a theater major - but he's never had the money to actually attend these shows in person; Cliff had the money but none of the interest. He finds he loves them now, though. The performers aren't just a bunch of mentally ill college drop-outs playing make believe on stage, like Cliff's father once said. They're artists and they tell stories that really touch Cliff in ways he never expected. More than anything, though, he loves exploring every corner of the city with Elliot and going out to eat at tiny hole in the wall places where they order random things off the menu because they can't read whatever language they're in. He loves how Elliot speaks passionately about every show and comes up with his own analyses of each work. Most of all, he loves the look on Elliot's face as he watches them and afterwards when he thanks Cliff for bringing him.

They're "friends," but friends don't look at each other like they do... Do they? Friends don't sleep in the same bed whenever Cliff's roommate spends the night elsewhere. And friends don't usually kiss the shit out of each other, desperate and all-consuming.

It troubles Cliff. He never really wanted to kiss anybody until Elliot, but now he can't stop. Elliot's lips are so full and soft. Cliff loves his taste, even though he'd always thought the idea of kissing was gross before. Elliot's so beautiful - men had never looked beautiful before, either. Cliff thinks if he could choose to spend the rest of his life with just one person, he'd choose Elliot in a heartbeat. The problem is he lives in a world with everybody else, including his parents, and it'll never just be them.

Elliot's so patient though. He doesn't push Cliff to be out like he is, or to label their relationship as something more than Cliff's ready to voice. Cliff knows he can't wait forever - he sees Elliot's face fall a bit more each time Cliff introduces him as just a friend - but he's waiting for now and Cliff will take it for as long as he's allowed to.

Thinking about Elliot is what gets Cliff through the day when he's having trouble. For example, the thought of the play they're supposed to go see tomorrow night pushes Cliff through classes this Friday even though he's feeling increasingly off as each hour passes. He's shivery and his body aches like he went on a long run yesterday, but he didn't. By noon his head is aching and by the end of his afternoon class he feels absolutely awful. He drags himself back to his dorm and flops onto bed face first with a groan. At least his roommate's gone for the weekend with his girlfriend, that's a silver lining. He just needs to rest, he thinks to himself. He'll feel better in the morning.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cliff doesn't feel better in the morning. In fact he feels ten times worse, like he's been hit by a truck. He wakes up around three in the morning with wicked chills and shakes in his bed for hours before he can fall asleep again. He knows he's sick, but he's not used to anything like this. Usually he'd just push through and let Elliot pick him up for lunch as they'd planned anyways. That's what he'd always done in high school: drag himself to class and work through the illness. At worst he'd ended up taking naps in the nurse's office, but he never wanted to end up sick at home. It was too lonely there.

He has every intention of pushing through the pain again today, but he finds he's so dizzy that he can barely make it to the bathroom. Not only that, but he can't go a few seconds without coughing. It feels like something is gripping his lungs inside his chest and squeezing and it hurts. He doesn't want Elliot to see him like this, so he sends a text that takes several tries to compose before it makes sense. The tiny letters on his Blackberry are hard to use when his fingers are so shaky.

'Have to cancel today. Sorry.'

Cliff receives several text messages back from Elliot right away.

'Aww you sure?'

'Wait why?'

'You OK?'

Cliff doesn't answer. He can't think of a good excuse and he's too tired to keep his eyes open any longer. He vaguely realizes he's thirsty, but he has no energy to get water. So instead, he falls asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bang bang bang!

Cliff groans and tries to ignore the loud noise. He just wants to sleep, doesn't anybody respect that around here? He thinks maybe if he just stays still it'll stop, or at least he'll fall back asleep.

But it doesn't stop, and then he hears a voice that he recognizes. "Cliff? Are you there?"

It's Elliot. Cliff's heart sinks. Elliot can't see him like this, absolutely not. Not when he's such a mess. "Go away," he croaks out, but speaking makes him cough. He sounds like shit.

"Cliff! Open up before I go get the RA!"

Why is he so damn persistent? Cliff doesn't want the RA to get involved though so forces himself to get up. He wobbles the few steps to the door, shivering as his bare feet hit the cold linoleum floor, and opens it.

"Why would you do that?" He rasps, leaning on the door frame as he glares at Elliot in defeat.

A very indignant looking Elliot stands in front of him with one hand on his hip, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. "Because you're clearly dying, duh."

"Not dying." The string of harsh, deep coughs that comes straight from Cliff's lungs does him no favors.

"Uh huh. Let's get you back in bed," Elliot says. He ushers Cliff back onto his twin mattress and covers him with the duvet. Cliff shivers miserably. Great, now he's sick and humiliated. "Do you have a first aid kit or a thermometer?" Elliot asks him hopefully.

"No," Cliff says. Of course not, what does Elliot think he is, a nurse? "I'm fine E. You should go back to your room." He doesn't want Elliot to catch this.

Elliot frowns. "You don't want me here?"

It's not that, Cliff thinks. As much as he doesn't like the idea of Elliot seeing him like this, he does want him here. He wants Elliot to hold him like he did after that time they got chilled to the bone walking home in the rain and hugged in bed until they felt warm again. But that's selfish, and he's positive Elliot's only here because he feels bad or something, not because he wants to be. He probably just came to see what was up with Cliff ditching him and is now looking for any excuse to get out of the biohazard zone.

"I'm fine," Cliff says. "Just a cold or something."

He's startled when Elliot slaps his hand to Cliff's cheek. Cliff can't help but moan at Elliot's cool palm against his burning skin. "Yikes. A cold doesn't usually feel that that," Elliot says briskly. "Just let me take care of you, alright?"

Cliff blinks in shock. "Take care of me? Why would you do that?"

Elliot looks at him strangely. "You know, coz we're... Together. It's what boyfriends do."

Cliff feels the strange pain in his stomach that he always feels when Elliot says that word. He swallows, which causes his to realize how raw and swollen his throat feels. "What if you get sick?" Cliff asks weakly. But Elliot knows he's got him. All he needs to say is the word 'boyfriends' and Cliff's lost his resolve.

"I've got a good immune system," Elliot says confidently. "Besides, I don't think you should be alone right now."

Cliff feels his eyes suddenly get teary and he jams them shut so that Elliot can't see. No one's ever wanted to be around him when he was sick before. His parents thought every illness was just a pain in the ass and the most caretaking he can remember his mom doing is shoving a bottle of cough syrup and a packet of antibiotics through the door at him. His dad's a doctor, but he's never even home (though Cliff supposes he's the one who probably writes the scripts for said antibiotics). The general concensus among all of them was stay in your room and don't bother anyone or spread whatever it is to anybody else. End of.

"I'm going to grab my first aid kit from my room, I'll be right back," Elliot says. His dorm is only in the next building over so it takes all of five minutes to go back and forth between their rooms, four if they run. Cliff nods and hears his door shut before he opens his eyes to wipe them dry. Elliot's shoved a sock in the door so that he can get back in without Cliff having to get up. Just another little considerate thing that comes to Elliot naturally, yet he's stuck with Cliff of all people, who has the emotional maturity of a middle schooler. Cliff doesn't know why Elliot sticks around really, but he's going to soak up every second of it until it ends.

Elliot's back in the blink of an eye with a large plastic box with a big red cross on the front. "I'm back." He catches Cliff oggling the first aid kit and laughs awkwardly. "Mom's a nurse. She wanted me to be well stocked," he explains. He opens it up on Cliff's desk and pulls out a thermometer. He takes the cap off and hands it to Cliff expectantly. Cliff stares at it awkwardly. It feels embarrassingly self indulgent. "Go on," Elliot says, so Cliff puts it under his tongue and waits, cheeks now burning with embarrassment as well as fever.

Elliot digs through the first aid kit and finds a bottle of Tylenol, then nabs a bottle of water from under Cliff's bed where he knows Cliff stashes them. The thermometer beeps; Cliff hands it to Elliot awkwardly, unsure what the flashing 102.5 on the tiny screen means.

Apparently nothing good, because Elliot frowns and looks concerned. "Have you taken anything for this?" He asks worriedly. He seems unsurprised when Cliff shakes his head no. He taps out two Tylenol and holds them out to Cliff with the bottle of water.

Cliff takes the water bottle and tries to open it, but his fingers are shaky and clumsy and he drops the cap. The full bottle leaks water all over his arm and onto his bed. He cringes, but Elliot doesn't berate him for making a mess. Cliff swallows the Tylenol and feels them pass painfully through his sore throat.

"You should feel better in a bit," Elliot says, but he looks like he's not so sure anymore. He appears to have an idea and dashes to the bathroom momentarily, returning with a dampened washcloth. He presses it to Cliff's forehead. Cliff shivers at first, but soon it feels good.

Cliff's breathing is labored. He's not sure how he got so sick so fast but he hopes Elliot's right, that he feels better quickly. He looks up at Elliot hovering at his bedside and tentatively grips Elliot's sleeve. Elliot looks down in surprise. "Want me to hold you?" Cliff nods. Elliot smiles and climbs into bed without another word.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cliff wakes up with violent chills and a sharp pain in his head. His jaw is taut as his teeth chatter loudly against each other. Elliot's holding him, shushing him. "Shh, it's gonna be okay," he hears Elliot say. "Take a deep breath Cliff, come on."

Cliff tries to, but it produces a hallow sucking in noise deep in his chest. He feels like he can't breathe. He tries to cough, but it's too weak to produce anything. Panic grips him when it feels like no air is coming in.

"C-can't," he gasps. He can't control his shaking and he grabs onto Elliot's shirt, scared.

Elliot leans over and turns on Cliff's bedside lamp. He tries to help Cliff sit up so that maybe his can take a deeper breath and rubs his upper arms. Cliff keeps gulping down mouthfuls of air that doesn't seem to reach his lungs. There's no way to hide the involuntary tears that roll down his cheeks this time. "Try and take a deep breath Cliff," Elliot instructs him. Cliff shakes his head. He can't. "You can do it - yes you can, Cliff. Try again. In through your nose… that’s it. Good job. Slow down. It's okay..."

It takes several cycles of Elliot's guidance between spasms of coughing where Cliff can't follow Elliot's instructions to breathe even if he tries, but eventually he starts feeling slightly less like he might pass out from lack of oxygen. He's dizzy and Elliot eases him back onto his pillows, wiping the sweat from his brow and drool from the corner of his mouth. Cliff shivers and greedily appreciates every breath he doesn't have to fight for anymore. This has never happened to him before and he closes his eyes as he tries to recover from the attack.

Elliot takes Cliff's temperature again and can't hold back the little gasp that comes out when he sees the number. "Shit, this is really high. Maybe I should call an ambulance."

Cliff desperately grups onto Elliot's arm and he shakes his head desperately. "Don't," he begs. It's difficult to speak after what just happened, but he forces the words out anyways. "I can't go to the hospital. My dad - my dad works there."

Elliot looks totally confused, but he doesn't ask questions right at this moment. "You have a 104 fever, I don't think I can handle this with a little Tylenol."

Cliff lets out a tiny sob, which shocks Elliot because he's never seen Cliff actually cry before. "He'll hit me if I embarrass him," Cliff whimpers deliriously. The fever and exhaustion of what just happened is making him reveal what he never would normally. "I can't, don't be mad at me, please, don't hit me." Elliot's heart breaks. He wipes Cliff's hot tears away and kisses his forehead.

"Okay, no hospital," Elliot says against his better judgment. "Let's go to student health in the morning. But we need to get your fever down now. Do you think you can take a cold shower?" Cliff shakes his head no. There's no way he can get all the way down the hall to the shared bathrooms and stand upright for that long without passing out. Elliot grimaces, but he's not surprised. "Okay. Stay here. I'm gonna go get ice and some cold cloths and hope for the best. If it doesn't work we really do need to get you help tonight though."

Elliot forces three Tylenol into Cliff and then dashes to the shared kitchen to grab ice and wet every washcloth Cliff owns. His own hands are trembling with anxiety; he's never seen someone else sick like this before and he really wants to bring Cliff to the hospital, but he'll do his best to respect Cliff's wishes... For now. He swipes at a few tears of his own that escape down his cheeks and hurries back to Cliff's dorm. "Excuse me," he says, and pulls Cliff's shirt off. He's never seen Cliff shirtless before so covers him up quickly with the sheets. Then he places ice on Cliff's neck, armpits and groin, and the wet towels everywhere else. Cliff groans in pain, his shivering so bad that his feet drum in an inconsistent rythym against the wall. He tries to tear away from all of if but Elliot holds him down. "I know," he soothes Cliff. "Just for a few minutes, you're just too hot right now."

The whistling sound that still accompanies Cliff's desperate breaths are noisy and impossible to ignore. Elliot thinks he recognizes it as wheezing. "Cliff, do you have asthma?" He asks.

"Used to," Cliff says after several seconds. The way he’s slurring his words scares the shit out of Elliot.

"Do you have an inhaler?" Elliot asks. Cliff shakes his head no. Elliot grimaces and Googles 'asthma treatments without inhaler.' He ends up making Cliff sit up as high in the bed as possible and making some hot tea. It's the best he can do right now. Cliff doesn't want to sit up, too cold and achy to get comfortable in an upright position. So Elliot slides behind him and holds him so that he can sleep but doesn’t have to work to keep himself sitting.

When Elliot checks Cliff's temperature again, it's down to 103.3 so Elliot decides they can wait for the clinic to open at 8 am. He helps Cliff drink his tea and sets an alarm to wake up at 7:30 so they can get to the clinic the second it opens. By the early morning hours neither of them have slept much and Cliff's wheezing has only gotten worse. Morning couldn't have come fast enough and Elliot was second guessing his decision to let Cliff wait until now, but it's too late for that now. Elliot bundles Cliff up in several layers and leads him downstairs to the lobby. Cliff is woozy and out of it. Elliot sits him on the bench at the door to wait while he catches a taxi.

Cliff seems barely conscious on the drive there. Elliot holds him close, repeating “You’re okay,” as much as for himself as for Cliff. Cliff’s quiet other than the tight coughing that leaves him breathless. Elliot feels bad for the taxi driver and tips him extra for whatever plague Cliff gifted him with on the short trip to the student health center. For the first time since he found Cliff like this he considers his own health again, but it’s too late and there’s no way in hell he’d leave Cliff all alone like this.

At the health center, Cliff’s temperature is 103.5 and the nurse practitioner immediately sets him up with a nebulizer treatment. She asks if Cliff’s been drinking enough water; Elliot answers he’s been trying, but it doesn’t seem like enough. She inserts an IV and runs a liter of fluids for Cliff, saying it should help with his fever.

Cliff clearly does not like being assessed or touched. He clings to Elliot even though there's someone else around and flinches every time anyone else makes physical contact with him. He answers questions robotically and barely above a whisper, mostly just repeating "Yes ma'am" over and over. When they insert the IV, he gets so pale and clammy that Elliot thinks he's going to pass out. He distracts Cliff by talking about the show they were supposed to go to see yesterday. Cliff doesn't respond, but Elliot knows he's listening - at least to Elliot's voice if not the words - because he's clutching onto Elliot's hand so hard that Elliot's fingers go numb.

In the end, Cliff's diagnosed with the flu and an asthma exacerbation. "Did you get the flu shot?" The nurse asks Cliff. When Cliff shakes his head no she tells him it's especially important for people with asthma to stay up to date on these sorts of things, simply prompting another quiet "Yes ma'am." Cliff gets steroids, an antiviral and an inhaler to take home, and then they're free to go. Elliot thinks Cliff looks just as miserable as when they came in, but at least his fever's down and it no longer sounds like he's breathing through a straw. He's greatful he got his own flu shot ahead of time.

Elliot drags Cliff back to his dorm room and tucks him back into bed. Cliff whimpers in pain and Elliot gives him his meds. "There you go Cliffy, you're gonna feel better soon," he croons, brushing Cliff's sweaty red hair off his forehead. "You did so good."

"I didn't do anything," Cliff says dully, hiding under the covers and avoiding eye contact. "And now you probably think I'm crazy."

"What? Why would I think you're crazy?" Elliot asks, genuinely confused.

"...Coz of that stuff I said about my dad," Cliff says, so quietly that Elliot almost doesn't catch it. His heart clenches in pity and he pulls the covers down to reveal Cliff's ashamed face. Cliff closes his eyes and looks like he's waiting for Elliot to say something terrible to him.

"Cliff," Elliot says gently, but firmly. "Of course I don't think you're crazy. I think it's messed up, but because it sounds like your dad sucks, not because of you."

Cliff's face relaxes a little, but he still looks upset. "It's stupid," he says. "I'm eighteen. I shouldn't be scared of... Of that anymore."

Elliot touches Cliff's shoulder. Cliff flinches but doesn't pull away. Elliot rubs his arm gently. "It's okay to be scared of whatever you're scared of," Elliot says softly. "But I promise I'll never hit you. Do you know that?"

Cliff opens his eyes and looks at Elliot. He looks so young and so damaged sometimes, it makes Elliot's heart hurt. "Promise?" He asks in a very small voice.

Elliot swallows. "I promise, no matter what. Even if we fight, or you're sick, or we're driving each other crazy because we have very different tastes in movies." The corner of Cliff's lips twitch in an almost-smile. "I will never put my hands on you to hurt you, I promise. Okay?"

"Okay," Cliff says. Elliot can tell he's trying not to cry, so he kisses Cliff's forehead and lays down next to him. He hugs Cliff and cuddles his boyfriend's overly warm body. He means every word he said. He'd never hurt Cliff on purpose, and anyone who has done so was wrong.

"Rest now," Elliot says softly. "You'll feel loads better when you wake up." He listens to Cliff's shallow, uneven breathing. Slowly it becomes more natural and eventually turns into congested snores. Elliot smiles and continues to hold Cliff even though Elliot can tell he's asleep now. He'll hold Cliff for as long as he can.

#shionwrites #oc: cliff #sickfic #flu whump #bad things happen bingo #hurtcomfortbingo #whump #sick whump #fever whump #hurt/comfort #whumpblr #oc: elliot #male whump #whump writing #coughing

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dollywheeler · 10 months

Text

September 20th, 1996

Dear diary,

The girls and I went to the diner after cheer practice, so I got home later than usual. At first I thought mom and dad had gone out, as dad's car was gone and the house was dark despite it only being 7, but I found mom sitting in the living room on her own reading a magazine. Apparently, dad had some work event and wouldn't be home until late. The house felt lonely without dad sitting in his chair in front of the TV, and I realized mom probably felt that more than anyone now that I was out a lot more, myself.

It made me feel worse for leaving her to have dinner on her own, and realized I'd forgotten to call and let her know I wouldn't make it.

It reminded me of when I was younger, and I'd go back downstairs after being unable to fall asleep, to find mom in the sitting room, reading or sewing but mostly just keeping her eye on the door. It took me a while to realize she was waiting on Mike and/or Nancy, making sure they'd get home, without knowing when they'd be back. One night, mom had allowed me to sit with her a little longer instead of getting me back upstairs immediately, and when we'd finally heard the garage door open, Mike had rounded the corner and ran right up the stairs without saying anything.

To this day I don't know if he ever even knew she was there, or if he just didn't care that she was. I just know that mom had opened her mouth to greet him or ask how he was, but changed her mind, clearly knowing better. He'd already been halfway up the stairs, anyway.

She still looks surprised any time I let her know where I'm going or what I'm doing, the relief on her face every time we have dinner together and I tell them about my day. I don't want to stop doing that. I don't want to do that to her. Not after seeing how much it hurt her the first two times.

I don't want to do that to her ever. I guess, I came pretty close today, anyway.

On top of that, my first instinct was to go upstairs, to read or listen to music in my room, but I realised that would leave her sitting here alone, just as Nancy or Mike would have done.

So, instead, I asked if she wanted to go the movies.

She seemed surprised I'd asked, which was to be inspected and made me feel even more guilty, but it was clear she was excited by the idea.

It was strange getting into the car with her now I've been doing most driving myself, but it was a nice feeling too - like I'd only just realized I'd been missing it - and it made me feel a lot better.

Mom asked if there was a particular movie I wanted to see, and it made me pause because I realised there really weren't that many great movies playing. I just suggested watching My Best Friend's wedding as I considered it was probably most up her alley, but she remembered I'd already seen it. I insisted I didn't particularly care about anything else that was playing and didn't mind seeing it again.

At first she agreed if I was sure, but once we got to the theater she checked out the other movies anyway. She pointed out Mimic as something I'd probably like, and I laughed and pointed out it was R-rated, but she just shrugged and joked that "she may look young but still counts as adult supervision."

I told her I didn't want to watch anything she wouldn't enjoy. She gave me this look with a twinkle in her eyes and I remember that I only know the parts of her she'd wanted me to see until now. It made me feel kind of dumb - naive, I guess. Strange how that works - how we just assume that parents are parents, and everything they enjoyed as children was prelude to raising kids. That we forget they're people too.

It made me ask what she enjoyed doing at my age, and I could tell she felt weird answering that question, almost as if she wasn't quite sure how, or she'd forgotten. She mentioned something non-commital about ballet and focusing on school, but on the way home, she said she'd enjoyed the movie even though preferred fantasy over sci-fi. And then she'd told this story about how, when she was pregnant with Mike, she'd left Nancy with a babysitter one night and had gone to see Rosemary's Baby on her own. I've really been underestimating her, apparently. I always knew mom must have been somewhat like me and Nancy as a teenager, I just never realised she was - and this is going to sound cliché - cool. Cool enough to say 'fuck it' and go to the movies on her own, to one of the scariest horror movies ever, about a baby, while pregnant.

And then she said, and I can't quite believe I'm the first one hearing about this, that it was actually the first night she'd met Joyce Byers. Apparently, she was working the ticket counter at the time - just as pregnant as mom was - and had made a comment about her choice of movies. Something about her nerves never being able to handle horror and that she'd probably go into labor early if she tried.

A few weeks later, when mom was in the hospital with Mike, she bumped into Joyce again when they came to pick Will up from the NICU. Mom smiled when she recalled this, but her thoughts seemed far away as she trailed off. She'd been in a good mood ever since we bumped into them, and I know she'd been hoping for something like that to happen ever since they moved back to town.

I should probably have explained that first before going off on this tangent.

So, we went to see Mimic. We got to our seat as the previews were ending, and pretty early on as the movie was starting, my attention was pulled to two people a few rows in front of us and a little to my left. They were talking quietly among themselves, as most people were, and I immediately recognised them as Will and Mike.

It kind of shocked me - I really hadn't expected seeing them and I tensed realizing mom was with me. I didn't know how she'd respond to seeing them, and I really didn't want to ruin this night for her. It had been so nice up until now, and I doubted reminding her of the son that had abandoned her would be make this night better. Okay, maybe abandoned is a strong word, but I still didn't think it was far off from how mom was feeling.

But mom seemed engrossed by the movie and unbothered by the people talking around her, so I hope she wouldn't recognise them in the dark and tried to focus on the movie myself.

It was great - not that scary, honestly, and I'm not a fan of bugs so it was more disgusting than anything. I might just have been too distracted to enjoy it though, as I kept catching snippets of Mike and Will's commentary.

At the start of the movie they were pretty quiet, but then when the characters really started investigating the tunnels and the action started kicking up, Mike mumbled “Stupid kids sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”

“Shut UP, Mike.” Will groaned, but he was clearly biting back a laugh.

“At least we didn’t WANT to get involved. And we managed to stay alive.”

Will slapped his arm instead of telling him to shut up again, but he was laughing quietly.

Wondrously, people weren’t complaining about them whispering. Though, if I hadn’t been so focused on them I probably wouldn’t have minded either - they were being quiet enough and surely weren’t the only ones making a comment here or there.

It was a weird comment though, and I didn't understand what Mike could have been referring to. There were more comments like that, though I can't quite recall them all.

At one point, Mike repeated a quote from the movie “The world’s a much bigger lab.” and then added, "Don’t let El watch this movie. She’ll have an existential crisis.”

Again, weird comment, but Will seemed to follow exactly what he meant as he hissed out a “Mike.” before pressing a hand over his mouth to stelp his laughter.

They continued back and forth like this, Will chiming in with his own comments every once in a while, though more content to just sit and watch than Mike was apparently. Until, eventually Mike said something about "it being nice for the scientists to be the victim of their own creations for once."

"What the hell is wrong with you?” Will joked in response this time, sounding strangely fond, before dropping his voice into a more serious tone. “Are you okay? We can leave-“

“I’m fine. Joking helps.” Mike's voice was quieter as he responded seriously for once, and it was weird. I wouldn't have expected him to sober up just like that, to drop the act and be earnest after all that sarcasm. “Though I don’t like we’re watching this back in Hawkins.”

It made me scoff, strangely defensive. As much as I love Hawkins, I hold no illusion over it being a paradise, but no one asked them to move back. If they hate being here so much they shouldn't have come. I knew they hadn't wanted to come back - knew it was all just a ruse, them wanting to meet up and suddenly caring about the people they left behind is all just bullshit, a game to pass the time cause they have nothing better to do. Something they might as well indulge in now they're burned out and back where they started.

Surely they could have found a different small town in need of teaching staff.

But Will just smiled sadly at Mike's comment, before glancing around at the other patrons, enraptured by the movie or muttering and grimacing between themselves at the juicy bits. Then Will shifted in his seat, only barely, pulling his hand off the armrest causing Mike to turn his eyes back to him, and asked. “Better?”

“Better.” Mike agreed with a smile, though what had changed to make it so, I couldn’t grasp. “Oh we’re back to regular horror movie bullshit. That’s good. Watch him struggle with that lighter like a total cliché. Told you."

Weirdest part was when the movie had ended. As soon as the lights came on, I was ushering mom out of the theater because I didn't want her to see them, and I managed to get her successfully back into the foyer. She had to go to the bathroom though, but I figured that worked in my favor because I'd thought Mike and Will would be gone before she came out again.

I'd been aware of them walking behind us, and as I waited by the door, I heard Mike complain that the movie "wasn't even that scary, but just hit close to home."

I remember it clearly cause it struck me as odd - "too close to home"? I think mom would kill herself if she’d ever let a cockroach in the house. And with modern medicine plagues are definitely of the past. But then I realized he might have been talking about Barb. I don’t know exactly what happened and Nancy and mom don't like talking about it, but dad says it was a government cover-up. Something about a leak from the old lab. Though I doubt it was anything like the movie - it wasn't even a biological agent but chemical contaminant.

But what do I know.

At least they were gone without mom seeing them.

Or so I thought.

Of course, we eventually bumped into Mike and Will anyway. Mom caught sight of them the second we stepped back out into the hallway. They were standing near the bins, lost in conversation, clearly loitering as if hesitant to leave. I admit I used to do that a lot too, but only because I wanted to talk to my friends longer before we'd have to get in separate cars and drive to separate houses. Mike and Will don't have this problem, so I can only assume they did it just to thwart me.

Mom immediately dragged me over to go say hi.

I could tell she was nervous despite her eagerness, and despite my annoyance at Mike and hesitancy at the confrontation to come, I had to admire her resilience. They looked up when mom greeted them, and I caught their expression as they noticed me first, before they fell slightly into something more unsure as their eyes fell on mom.

"Oh, hi, Holly. Hi Mrs. Wheeler." Will said, taking the lead in the conversation as he smiled polite as ever at mom, but even he seemed cautious.

"Hi, mom," Mike said quietly, and I noticed he didn't hug her hello. He barely even looked at her, keeping his eyes downcast.

Will asked what movie we'd just seen, and both him and Mike seemed surprised when mom said they'd watched Mimic. I stayed quiet as they talked about the movie for a bit, until Mike seemed to notice I hadn't said anything yet.

Mike turned to me and mentioned having dinner again, saying I had yet to accept an invitation any time soon, and then he added - surprising both me and mom, and possibly even himself - "you too mom."

I could tell he was nervous after, but I didn't know if it was because he already regretted what he'd said or if he wasn't sure what our response he would be.

"What about dad?" I tried to ask, but mom just put her arm around my shoulder and cut me off with a "we'd love to accept."

I don't know why they'd want to leave out dad but I'm getting sick of missing half the conversation.

But it didn't end up ruining mom's night after all, so I'm trying to just let it go and be happy for her. Mike and Will said they had plans next weekend, and I would have considered it an excuse to procrastinate putting down an actual date if next weekend wasn't homecoming so it makes sense for them to be busy. And then they actually suggested the Friday after that, so they ended up giving a date after all. Let's see if they'll find an excuse to cancel before then.

I think it would crush her if they did.

For now she's more excited than I've seen her in a long time, and it's hard to be mad at Mike when he put that smile on her face.

It's just insanely unfair that he has that influence over her, that something so simple could make her that happy, when he can't even be bothered to stay in touch. I hope for her sake that the dinner will be the first of many, because if it's a one-off it would just break her heart all over again.

Love, Holly

#holly wheeler #mike wheeler #the third wheeler #fanfic #stranger things #byler #will byers #karen wheeler

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 8 months

Text

Francis Drake Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

The woman behind the door was just an ordinary woman.

(Heh? She's got nice eyes.)

Drake: "I'm Francis. Francis Drake."

Drake: "I just stumbled into this place out of nowhere and have no idea what's going on, so there's no need to be scared, little fawn."

The woman who introduced herself as Mitsuki was trembling like a cornered animal in my arms.

Nevertheless, her gaze as she looked up with determination wasn't all that bad.

Drake: "Haha! Being caught and surrounded like this reminds me of when I was ambushed at sea."

I laughed at my miserable situation as they tied me up with a rope.

When I was still a low-ranking officer on a pirate ship, I was tied up and almost thrown overboard after an altercation with an enemy ship.

Compared to that, being allowed to sit in a quality chair like this was far better treatment.

Drake: "Mademoiselle, sorry for pointing a knife at you earlier. I was on guard, so it just happened. Are you okay?"

Mitsuki: "Y-Yes, I'm fine."

The woman who had been trembling in my arms earlier blinked in surprise as I talked to her casually.

But...

Drake: "I promise not to harm you guys."

(There's no way they'd trust me even if I said that.)

Unlike the woman, there was a tense atmosphere among the men surrounding me.

(The ropes are tied tightly. They also took my knife, so untying them would be impossible.)

(Before that, if I make any suspicious moves, they might attack me first.)

A man with dark hair and a man with an eye patch on either side of me stood guard, as if they were watching over a prisoner.

Aside from the sword at their waist, their demeanor suggests they were used to fighting.

(In fact, that Napoleon guy is quite skilled.)

I glanced around at everyone present and noticed that there weren't many others used to fighting. However, the ones with golden and amber eyes caught my attention.

(Those two shouldn't be underestimated.)

My intuition told me so.

Napoleon: "Now that we've all calmed down, let me ask again."

Napoleon: "Who are you?"

Drake: "Okay. I guess I should start by introducing myself."

Drake: "I'm Francis Drake. Well, you could say I'm just a simple sailor."

Sebastian: "Francis Drake!?"

The man standing at the edge of the room, who looked like a servant, raised his voice.

Sebastian: "That famous Captain Drake!?"

Drake: "I don't know which 'that' you're referring to, but the 'Captain' part is correct."

Mitsuki: "Is this guy also a historical figure?"

Sebastian: "Yes. He's an English pirate who rose to the rank of navy admiral."

I was surprised that he knew so much, as he politely told me about my title and achievements.

Vincent: "So, he also crossed over time?"

Theo: "Just because he calls himself Francis Drake doesn't mean he's the real deal."

The man with the same piercing as the man with fluffy blond hair replied with expected skepticism.

Drake: "I can't argue with that."

As I pondered what to do next一

Mitsuki: "I think he's telling the truth."

Mitsuki: "He doesn't seem like he's lying, and it's also strange for someone to pretend to be a historical figure."

(Ooops? A backup support from an unexpected person.)

Drake: "Heh? You believe me, mademoiselle? That makes me happy."

Drake: "But is it okay to trust someone that easily?"

Mitsuki: "---?"

I casually said something to test her, partly because I wanted to be a little mean about her defenselessness and kindness.

(If she doesn't know how to doubt people, she probably has never been betrayed by anyone before.)

She probably lived a life free of conflict, intrigue, and deception.

Shakespeare: "I guarantee he is the real Sir Francis Drake."

Afterwards, the playwright Shakespeare served as a witness and finally confirmed my identity as Francis Drake.

Drake: "So, is this the lodging for Shakespeare's theater company or something? Are you all members of the troupe?"

Shakespeare: "No, Sir Drake, that is not the case."

Comte: "Will, let me take it from here."

The man with golden eyes approached me.

Comte: "Drake. This is neither a theater company nor England. Furthermore, to put it more clearly, we are in a different era."

Comte: "This is France in the 19th century."

Drake: "Ha?"

I looked at him, speechless and wide-eyed at what he just told me.

After that, he asked me how I came here, and when I told them that I'd walked alone through the hallway full of antiques, Count Saint-Germain frowned even more, and the other men looked confused.

Mitsuki: "Could it be that Drake, like me, also ended up here from his original time?"

Leonardo: "That's a possibility, but rather than being like you, it might be more accurate to say he's like Napoleon."

Napoleon: "Huh?"

Comte: "I can feel both a human and a vampire presence from you, Drake."

Mitsuki: "Are you saying he's like Napoleon? A half-vampire!?"

(Half...)

My own existence seemed to be causing a lot of confusion after they mentioned the topic of half-vampires.

As thoughts and speculations started spiraling out of control, I raised my hand to put a stop to it and bring everyone's attention back to me.

Drake: "Hold on."

Drake: "I can accept that this is the 19th century, but all this talk about resurrections and vampires is getting crazy. Can you at least tell me more about what's happening?"

Napoleon: "I understand how you feel."

Mitsuki: "Me too…"

The lady understood and felt the confusion I showed.

Mitsuki: "Comte, I think we need to explain the situation."

Mitsuki: "And since he doesn't have a place to go, why don't we let him stay at the mansion for a while?"

Drake: "........."

(It'd be inconvenient if I got thrown out like this. I need to play my cards right.)

(That young lady over there seems kind, huh?)

Although there were voices of caution coming from the men, they still undid the ropes and allowed me to stay in the mansion.

It was a fortunate turn of events.

Drake: "Anyway, sorry for the terrible first impression. I'll be in your care from now on, so let's all get along."

Mitsuki: "If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."

Drake: "You..."

She wasn't scared anymore and was now genuinely smiling.

Drake: "You're really kind."

(I hope that kindness doesn't lead to your downfall, little fawn.)

On a night when a full moon was floating in the sky, I became a member of the mansion where vampires and "one girl" lived一without me believing in their smiles and words.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp drake #ikevamp #ikevamp francis #ikevamp jp #ikevamp translation #cybird

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cynicalruins · 6 months

Text

Changérion Bible - Aizawa Kazunari interview

Translation by Windii, scans by me

(Spoiler alert for a few episodes)

Hayami Katsuhiko is a just and handsome hero cadet who failed to become the righteous hero Changéríon. He is a hot-blooded and frank guy with seriousness as his strong point, but he is quite a klutz. He is supposed to save the day, but is instead saved, and he partners up with Akira in an odd but funny two-man team before he knows it, yet he's a superhero who dreams big… In reality, however, he is an aggressive and fiery young man who moved to Tokyo when he was drunk.

"I honestly can't believe that Changéríon was such a memorable work for so many people."

-Like Hayami, who played the role in the past, he says so with a mysterious look on his face. However, contrary to his own feelings, he says he is still receiving feedback from various sources.

"The other day, I was participating in a theater workshop."

-It was a full-fledged one, inviting a teacher from England for professionals.

"There were about 10 participants, some of whom were from Bungeiza, Daisan Erotica, and former members of Yume no Yuuminsha, so it was quite exciting. On the last day, one of them told me that they had seen Changéríon. I was surprised. They seemed to have been thinking for a long time about when they were going to say it, since it was the last day. That's when I realized that someone had seen it."

-It was the same thing on stage.

"Sometimes people who have been fans since the Changéríon days come to watch me, which is kind of incredible."

-He confesses that he never intended to become an actor in the first place.

"I know I'm being cheeky, but I just didn't like the normal routine."

-It all started with a movie. He happened to see a film on holiday that was so romantic and interesting that he wanted to play such a role.

"The name of the work is too faddist, so I won't tell you. But I like romantic stories. That's why I often watch romantic movies."

-He was born and raised in Miyagi Prefecture. After graduating from high school, he took it for granted that he would work for a local company.

"That was a very nice place to work, everyone was kind, and I was blessed."

-He was assigned to a factory. He wore a uniform and did the same work day in and day out.

"…I am embarrassed to say this, but one day I saw my reflection in the glass as I was working in my uniform. I am now living with my parents, and I can see a future where I will get a wife, build a house, and have children. And I wondered if that was what I wanted."

-He went for a drink with agonizing thoughts and then went straight into action.

"I drank until morning and took the bullet train to Tokyo first thing in the morning (laughs)."

-It was truly an "impulse."

"One thing I remember very well was the news of the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait that was playing at Tokyo Station. It was still early in the morning, but people were gathering around the TVs in the storefronts, and I wondered what was going on. Oh, it's war, they said."

-That day the Gulf War broke out. Unbeknownst to others, his life also changed dramatically.

"That was when I was 20 or 21. I moved in and lived at my senior's house for a while, but my parents scolded me. They said, "It's your choice to go to Tokyo, but you should do the bare minimum as a human being," and that was a good point. I had no more money, so I went back to my parents' house to visit my workplace and sell my car to make money… It was a great place to work, and I still feel bad about it, and I am grateful to my parents for not stopping me."

-Thus, he finally arrived in Tokyo. However, even at that point, he did not have a firm goal in mind.

"Since I was tall, I had been told since high school that I should model, so I decided to try modeling in Tokyo. So I looked at magazines and looked for an agency… Then I saw a movie, and I had a goal of becoming an actor. I guess I couldn't allow myself to make an escape route, so I gave up on the modeling agency. But I didn't know how to become an actor, so I asked for introductions and auditions. When you are alone in Tokyo, you have to help yourself to survive, so in that sense it is a tough city, although you can get by with your own efforts."

-However, he decided to live here.

Scouted out in the hallway?! First serial drama!

"I went to Toei's headquarters with my office manager to say hello."

-It was on the production floor, where the desks of the producers belonging to the company were lined up.

"While the manager was greeting the executives, I was waiting in the hallway and my shoelace came undone, so I had to sit down and tie it back on."

-Then a man appeared (he seemed to be a very important guy).

"He suddenly asked me who I was, and when I told him I was an actor, he said, 'I see, now come with me.'"

-He didn't know why, but he was called in for an audition for Racing Squadron Carranger that was being prepared at the time. Unfortunately, he was too tall to fit in with the other members and was rejected. He then decided to take on Super Shining Soldier Changéríon.

"When I received the script for the first episode, I thought that if it was going to be a choice between Akira and Hayami, I should be Hayami because of my personality. I heard that the two of them were competing with each other until the very end, but they decided on me at the last minute."

-However, he confesses that he did not really feel it.

"I mean, I was readily selected to appear in a serialized drama series, and I wondered if it would be so quick and easy."

-However, after that, he ended up having to work very hard (laughs).

Changéríon was a "playground"

"At first, Hayami was supposed to be more cool and carry the shadow of not being a hero. But before I knew it, he turned out to be such a serious fool."

-It was your own fault, said scriptwriter Inoue at the time, or not (laughs).

"I guess it's my fault. I was often told by Mr. Shirakura and Mr. Inoue that Hayami was not really this kind of guy. It is true that I was a bit aware of it, and there was a part of me that got carried away. It was my first acting job, and I had the strength of not knowing, you could say, or the feeling that it would be fine if it was funny. And I went overboard."

-However, his fearless vigor has created an image of Hayami as a hot-blooded, upright, stubborn, and good-natured person. In episode 9 "The Radiant Hayami!", for example, he transforms into the long-sought Changéríon in place of Akira, but his good-naturedness causes the dark creature, who begs him to change his ways, to flee. The hero is unable to wield his sword in the face of the apologetic opponent… Akira was an unconventional hero too, but is it our imagination that Hayami has also created a stir in the image of heroes of the past? Indeed, a hero is a being who slaughters his enemies in the name of justice. The antithesis of this attitude seems to have led to the current Kamen Rider Ryuuki.

"I feel that Mr. Inoue and Mr. Shirakura have successfully created an amusement park or, well, a more primitive park or playground for us. It's like we were just playing there. For example, "We made swings. But this is a swing set, so how would you play on it?" So we all thought hard about what we would do. We were really just having fun playing. If you could see the antithesis of that, I think it was because Mr. Shirakura and Mr. Inoue were so great."

-The only regret he has is that the program, which he says he played around in with all his might, was terminated in the middle of the cour. To be precise, it was not cancelled, but rather not renewed for a fourth cour, which was a shock to him since he thought it would continue.

"I guess I wanted more of a sense of convergence from everyone, because it ended without any. But now I think that last episode was good. The idea of a loop between a carefree daily life and a serious battlefield is amazing, isn't it? But I also think that maybe that's the way life is. As for myself, I wanted to settle things as Hayami. I think Hayami has always been a guy with a very negative attitude, thinking that he was supposed to be the one to make it. Just as it would have been nice to have a hero who was not cool and had no sense of justice, which Akira symbolized, it would have been nice to have someone with darker thoughts. Likewise, I think it would have been okay for Kuroiwa (Ogawa Atsushi) to be a villain and still fall in love with Eri (Kochihira Chika). …When you think about it like that, it was certainly a work that broke a lot of stereotypes."

-Hayami, who was in the midst of a conflict, however, finally achieves his longed-for transformation in episode 32 "Enter the Second Warrior!"… but this is Changéríon, after all, and Hayami transforms by eating dried plums (is he Suppaman?).

"For a long time, there were rumors. I wondered how it would turn out, and then it happened (laughs). I like the fact that Hayami is unaware of it, it's just like him."

-We asked him about his memorable episodes.

"I was happy to see the transformation. The scene where he eats Chief Munakata's seed of darkness and gets down on his knees saying, "That was delicious!" was funny. Then there was the scene where Akira and I switched places in "The Radiant Hayami!" That was a difficult episode. We were looking at each other and laughing, thinking, "This is not how it's supposed to be!" From that time on, I learned to do small acts in the frame, and we would restlessly do things together in the background. And the dubbing was separate, so it was mostly wasted (laughs)."

-What he did not like was dubbing.

"I hated it. When I saw the first episode, I thought it was so robotic. I thought that was so bad. I had a very hard time getting into the right mood for each episode."

-It was also around this time that he received his first fan letter.

"There was a one-time event called 'Cinefan' at Toei's Ooizumi Studios, and I wasn't scheduled to perform, but I went for one day and was surprised by the huge crowd. It was the first time for me to see fans in person, and I was surprised and happy to be called Hayami by a little kid, which was a strange feeling. I didn't really feel like I was playing the hero. I was more like "Detective Story" or "Tired Detective," which Akira likes, and we had said we would do something like that. So I was unexpectedly happy."

What Aizawa, an actor, thinks

"This job is more often hard and painful than fun, and there are more times when I don't do well, but sometimes I feel very fulfilled, and I want to savor it even more. At the time of Changéríon, I didn't think about these things, I was just playing like crazy, and I probably didn't wake up until later. But I learned a lot of things to wake up. Akira really has something that only he can do. I was very jealous of him because he had something that I could never have… but I was sure that there was a role that only I could play, so I decided to find it, because no matter what I played, I would always be me. I left because I didn't want to live a normal life, but at my age, when I interact with people from different professions, I often find myself empathizing with them, and I think that being an actor is not special. I hope that this will be a source of fertilizer. For me, Changéríon is like a "park where I went to during elementary school." I remember playing in the mud in the daytime, and I remember the dusk and the night scenery—If I had to give a word to my fans… I would say thank you. That's all I have to say."

-Thank you for a good time, too. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

Akira & Hayami

Akira: The snakeskin jacket I'm wearing in Kamen Rider (Asakura) right now is my own. Hayami: Oh, I've seen it before! Akira: It's in my room, you know? I'm not wearing it outside. Hayami: No, I saw it outside! You were walking around with it on. Akira: You're lying! Totally lying! Hayami: Just kidding. ♡ Akira: (laughs) You know, I was thinking that if you found out that I was playing a Rider wearing such a thing, you would say, "Akira, what the heck… I'm so upset!" (*) Hayami: You're right (laughs). Rider, huh? I'm so sad, Akira. Akira: Actually, I know you're worried. ♡

Hayami: At the time, I was just so absorbed in things, so I'm glad that people still remember me after 6 years like this. Akira: Yes. But now, when I hear people say that my acting has improved as a rider, I'm like, "What?!" But it's true, we weren't very good at acting (laughs). The director would joke that if we were better, we would be able to do the long takes on camera, and the cutaways were very detailed. Hayami: Yes, there was a time when I was quite particular about getting a long take someday. Akira: Then, in the middle of the series, Director Konaka started making long takes of your scenes. Hayami: That made the acting more exciting. Then, I would make mistakes and get yelled at. Akira: And I get depressed (laughs). And it shows on my face. I can't smile when I should be smiling, and that's not good. Hayami: But I know that he is angry with me with love. I'm going to do my best.

Hayami: We've been talking about making a movie together for a long time, but it's not easy. Akira: But I would love to make a film! Let's really make it happen. *Editor's note: Actually, there was an initial plan for Hayami to visit Akira's Rider shooting site to correct his ways (?) as a hero. But unfortunately, it did not come true.

Aizawa Kazunari: Born August 1, 1969 in Miyagi Prefecture. After working as a model, he was scouted (?) in the hallway of Toei's headquarters and auditioned, making his debut as Super Shining Soldier Changéríon's Hayami Katsuhiko. Since then, he has been active in film and stage. He appeared in the movie "Dolls" directed by Kitano Takeshi, which will be released in the fall, and in the movie "SEMI" directed by Yokoi Kenji, which will be released at the end of the year.

#changerion #changerion bible #tokusatsu #Aizawa Kazunari #my scans #long post

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five-hxrgreeves · 11 months

Text

An Unexpected Plan

PAIRING: loki laufeyson x reader

POWERS: none

WC: 2.6

SUMMARY: As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, it was safe to say that you had seen a lot of strange things in your day. Glowing cubes from space, aliens and planetary-scale Armageddons were considered just another day at the office. However, the opening of the multiverse means infinite possibilities, including some that you’d never expect.

WARNINGS: possibly ooc Loki? (this is my first time writing him.)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: So this is based off the post-credit scene in Ant Man: Quantumania for the sneak peek of the Loki series s2. I actually have s1 written on Wattpad with an OC (called Everybody Wants to Rule the World if you want to check it out!), but since Tumblr likes x reader more, I took out the oc. This was an idea I’ve had since I watched s1 so I finally just decided to write a one-shot of it. It may not be accurate to the rest of s2 once it’s released since I just made up some stuff around the 3-second clip that we got.

As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, it was safe to say that you had seen a lot of strange things in your day. From glowing space cubes of unknown origin to aliens trying to take over New York, the realm of what you considered impossible had broadened over the years. Your considerably high rank as a field agent had allowed you to experience some of these things first hand, which was both a blessing and a curse. It was more so the latter now as you’d been tasked with keeping the notorious trickster God of mischief from living up to his name. Luckily, you were well-equipped for the job— and more than just in the weapons department; you had the uncanny ability to see through lies. (This proved to be exceptionally helpful in an organization whose secrets had secrets.)

However, it was only after more than a decade of service that you were finally thinking that maybe you had bitten off more than you could chew. The God of Mischief had certainly earned his title; in an unforeseen turn of events, he’d gotten his hands on the Tesseract a second time and, before he could whisk himself away to who-knew-where to wreak more havoc, you’d latched onto his arm at the last second to join him for the spin as well. (At least nobody could ever say that you weren’t dedicated to your work.) After that, things had taken a turn for the worse and you’d both been taken to a mysterious time agency and had narrowly escaped death. (Well, maybe death was still on the table— your inevitable end had just been postponed.)

Needless to say, you and Loki hadn’t started out as the best of friends. When you weren’t trying to kill each other (verbally, at least), you glared at one another in sulky silences. But, as they say, trauma draws people together. Somewhere along the line between the end of the world and multiple variations of yourselves, you’d become something akin to. . . acquaintances? Allies? Not necessarily friends, but bonded by enough strange events to have a tentative trust with each other. You were almost certain that Loki wanted more from your relationship, but you hadn’t really forgiven him for what he’d done in New York and besides— whoever heard of a mortal and a God getting a good ending?

Now, however, none of that really seemed to matter; being displaced from your timeline certainly held a bigger threat than whatever was going on between the two of you. After your world-shattering revelation that the statue in the TVA’s library was no longer of three space lizards, but Kang himself you scrambled for answers and solutions. In a desperate attempt to understand the new situation you were in, you’d gotten the new-Mobius’ help of locating (a) Kang in this present timeline, which happened to be in the Victorian Era.

Although the three of you were hidden in shadows in the back of the theater where Kang’s presentation was taking place, your instincts were on high alert. The past few days? (Months?) had taught you that nothing was as it seemed. Even if Kang was currently pretending that he hadn’t seen your little group, you knew not to underestimate him. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to flee the theater at a moment’s notice if necessary. If you were less of an agent and more of a civilian, you might have even grabbed Loki’s hand— which was only inches from yours in the cramped space— as an expression of the fear that you currently felt. (While you were a seasoned veteran and had seen much in your day, any sane person who knew what Kang was capable of would be scared of him.) Loki seemed to share your trepidation as his eyes never left the enigmatic presenter.

Mobius spoke in a whisper from the God’s other side: “you made him sound like this terrifying figure!”

Neither you nor Loki took your attention away from the man at the front of the room as you replied in sync, “he is.”

As if he’d heard your quiet conversation, Kang’s— in this timeline called Victor— gaze snapped to where you were standing. Although his expression didn’t change and he continued to speak to the crowd, you felt an icy wash of fear trickle down your spine. Instinctively, your weight shifted forward to your toes as you prepared to flee, knowing it wouldn’t be good if Kang or any of his variations caught you as he surely intended to.

You exchanged a glance with Loki, almost one of the same mind after you’d experienced meeting He Who Remains the first time. For Mobius’ benefit, the God breathed out: “run.”

You didn’t need to be told twice; the three of you (after some prompting to get the TVA agent moving) pushed your way as calmly— but also hurriedly— as possible through the crowd to reach the doors. While there wasn’t anyone visibly chasing after you yet, you knew better than to be fooled by the appearance of peace. Once you’d reached the busy London street, you exchanged a look with the men. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you gave one word of warning: “if we get split up, good luck.”

Then, you broke into the fastest run you could considering the crowds of people, animals and carts that went about their daily business. (How nice it would be to not be aware of the multiverse, time travel, interdimensional threats. . . but you consoled yourself that you’d probably become too bored with such a quiet life.) Unsurprisingly, Loki was able to keep pace with you pretty easily— considering he was a God who had to match your extensive training— but Mobius seemed to struggle, especially with dodging obstacles. That was fine, though (as mean as that sounded), since Kang wasn’t after him.

As you ran at a (mostly) steady pace through the winding London streets, cries and shouts began to sound from behind you— it seemed that Kang and his variants were giving the chase. You blocked out the sounds as you focused on running; one foot in front of the other, arms swinging, bent, by your sides, breaths even: in, out, in, out. You ran as you’d been trained to do: for your life. You were so focused on staying ahead of the Kangs that you even lost track of your “running partner” as Loki seemed to fall out of your peripheral vision.

You rounded a corner, and then another, and then— a hand reached out to grab your arm. If given the choice between fight or flight, your always chose the former; you reacted instantly, kicking out with your feet as you attempted to put your attacker in a headlock to take them down.

It was only after a couple seconds of struggling (why wouldn’t this peasant man go down? Didn’t they eat a diet of potatoes and gruel?), you finally registered the man’s protests: “whoa, hey! It’s me— it’s me!”

You let go to eye him suspiciously. In a flash of green, Loki’s familiar form appeared and you let out a sigh of relief which (as it usually was when it came to him) was quickly followed by irritation. “Okay, what the hell? I know you’re the fricken’ God of Mischief and all, but is now really a time to pull tricks?”

“It’s not a trick,” he reassured you. “Well, perhaps it is, in a sense— we can disguise ourselves and blend in, get them off our tail.”

The disguise of a peasant man returned, complete with grubby clothes and matted hair. You curled your lips in disgust. “Far cry from being an Asgardian prince, huh?” you mocked him. “And besides, there’s two flaws to that brilliant plan: one, what about me? I don’t have magic, so pulling me aside to tell me this is just a waste of time. And second, I’m pretty sure Kang the Conqueror can see through something this. . . elementary.”

The peasant man scowled at you, displeased by your jabs. “This is genius, first of all. Before you go touting that you know all about magic, mortal, I can share illusions. Doesn’t your super-secret special agent school teach you self-preservation, or are you willing to take the chance and outrun an impossible amount of Kangs?”

You pursed your lips, weighing your options. As much as you hated to admit it, Loki was right; taking a chance on him was probably better then depending on your running abilities. (Although, to be fair, you were a pretty good runner.) You matched his annoyed expression and crossed your arms against your chest. “Fine, we’ll do it your way— but for the record, my father taught me self-preservation.”

The God smirked at you in that irritating way of his and extended his arm towards you. “Take my hand.”

You watched him skeptically for a moment, remembering how he’d openly admitted to flirting with you in the hours before you’d confronted the Void. As you hesitated— your fatal flaw— you listened for your pursuers and heard faint shouts from their rough interactions with the common people. They were still some distance away, but not comfortable enough to completely forego Loki’s plan. You sighed and— with as much distain as you could muster— took the God’s hand.

There wasn’t anything immediately different about your appearance; when you looked down, you could still see your now-worn combat gear and dusty boots. However, when you looked over at the man next to you, you no longer saw a peasant man; Loki was back to being his infuriating (ahem, handsome) self. You frowned in confusion as you lifted your hand, turning it back and forth to try and see the difference.

“You don’t see the illusion when you’re in it,” he explained with an impossible amount of smugness. “I can assure you, however, that we look as much the same as the rest of this doldrum crowd.”

You gave him a curt nod. “Fine,” you said again. “Let’s try to get out of here, shall we?”

They made their way back onto the main street, looking just the same as the rest of the passers-by. To the rest of the common people, they merely looked like a peasant couple holding hands, out for a nice stroll. Speaking of— “shouldn’t we run?” you asked, looking over your shoulder. Although you couldn’t see the Kangs because of the crush of people, you knew they were there.

“That would draw attention to us,” Loki replied evenly, keeping the steady pace. “All parts of the illusion must be convincing for it to work.”

So, as much as all of your instincts screamed at you to run, you forced yourself to match his steps. Thankfully, the busy city was too noisy to have conversation, otherwise you might have strangled Loki right on the street. (Okay, maybe you weren’t at each other’s throats as often anymore, but he still annoyed the hell out of you.)

It happened suddenly: one moment, you were walking along with Loki at a brisk pace, and the next a man with a golden pharaoh’s headdress appeared next to them. His dark, intense eyes swept the area as he mercilessly pushed carts and people out of his way. Your grip on Loki’s hand tightened in warning, causing the God to look down at you. You jerked your head to the dark-skinned man dressed in gold. His eyes followed your motion and widened before he quickly looked away. Neither of you spoke since the illusion wouldn’t disguise your voice, but your pace picked up slightly.

The next few minutes were very tense as you waited to see if Loki’s illusions would work. It seemed as if the Kang in the Egyptian-styled clothes was tailing you. Loki knew that his magic could only do so much; to the well-trained eye, a very faint glimmer of green could still be seen. They needed to make their illusion even more believable; to do something so out of the ordinary— something that was entirely ordinary, actually— that it would convince even the keenest of observers (which surely Kang was.)

The idea came to him in an instant, causing his chest to fill with warmth. While this would certainly not be his first kiss, it would be his first kiss with you. (And, if he were being uncharacteristically honest, it might be his only chance.) Loki glanced at the Agent out of the corner of his eye, knowing how poorly such a proposal would be received. But, this was a viable suggestion to get the Kangs away from them. So, he tugged the woman next to him to a stop.

You turned to look at the God with an irritated expression. “Need a break, do you?”

Loki was looking down at you intently, his emerald gaze holding yours. Perhaps for the first time, he ignored your dig. “Kiss me.”

Not sure if you heard him right, you stared at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Kiss me,” he repeated, a little more urgently. He glanced up at the Egyptian Kang who still lingered nearby. He lowered his voice as he hastily explained, “he suspects us. No one looks twice at two people kissing.”

“You’re cra— mmph,” your furious retort was cut off as he placed his lips on yours.

Again, your first impulse was to run, but this time for a different reason. It had been a long time since you’d kissed anyone— since your last love had ended in disaster. You’d vowed to never let anyone this close again after that, but here you were, allowing the God of Mischief to kiss you on a busy street. People brushed past you and jostled you, but Loki’s hands lightly held your arms, keeping you in place. You still had half a mind to push him away and ask what the hell was he thinking, but the other half of your thoughts registered how. . . good of a kisser he was.

You supposed that over a thousand years of practice certainly had its benefits. His lips were soft but insistent on yours, there was just enough tongue movement to make your stomach swoop (the traitor) and although you would deny it if asked, you could feel the electricity zip through you from the action. Just as your shock wore off enough to really kiss him back, Loki pulled away, his gaze flicking over your head to watch the crowd.

“He’s gone,” the God said with relief. Once he’d assessed that the danger had passed, he looked down at you with a smirk. “For someone who claims to hate me so much, I expected you to slap me instead of kiss me.”

You glared at him, any semblance of warmth that had come from the kiss disappearing as quickly as mist in the sun. “That can still be arranged.”

He gave you a shit-eating grin and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, Agent. Tell me you didn’t enjoy that.”

You shoved his arm away and turned to resume your path through the crowd, your head held high. “I didn’t. Let’s go find Mobius. Hopefully he hasn’t gotten trampled by a stray horse or something.”

Since you’d already refocused on the mission at hand, you missed the way the God’s smug expression faltered slightly at your stout rejection. It only lasted for a fraction of a second before he quickly recovered and hurried to catch up with you. Grabbing your wrist, he added, “we should still keep our disguises up, just in case.”

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