#but basically if I catch the time at 11:11 i close my eyes take a deep breath then make a wish

[this-geek]

Quick question for you all.

I have no idea when or why I started doing it but I can't be the only one.

Reblog for bigger sample size (and I guess to add any nuances).

[milzone]

fever pitch | l.jy

SYNOPSIS: Juyeon knew how wrong it was to think of you — his fellow idol — in such a lewd and filthy way, but he just couldn't help himself. He was obsessed with you, and he needed a release.

CONTENT WARNING: 18+, male masturbation, mentions of blood & biting, idol!au, basically this is loser juyeon fantasizing

WORD COUNT: 1.7k | oneshot

A/N: a bit rusty since i haven't written in like… two years... so pls bear with me! though this isn't my first time writing, it is my first tbz fanfic ^^ (as well as my first time posting here) but anw, this isn't proofread :p happy reading!

His breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet from across the stage, cheeks flushing red from being caught staring.

“Great, how obvious could I be?” Juyeon scolds himself, bringing his focus back on the freshly debuted boy group on stage. They were good at what they were doing, no lie. He thought those kids had a bright future ahead of them, but in spite of that, he couldn't bring himself to fully place his attention in their performance.

Juyeon swallows the lump in his throat, fixing the collar of his shirt that suddenly felt too tight. Shifting in his seat, he sneaks another quick glance to your figure clad in a tiny black pinstripe dress that hugged your body so well it left little to his imagination. The way the fat of your thighs spill over your white knee-high stockings and how the buttons of your dress seem like they’ll pop with just one wrong move sends his mind to places it shouldn’t be.

The rational part of him knew it wasn’t right to think of you this way — a co-idol, no less, but it was difficult for him when you were just so, so fucking erotic. Your performance earlier had Juyeon rushing to the restroom to rub off a quick one, gaining weird looks from the other boys as he stumbled on his own two feet. It was embarrassing how tight his pants felt, even more with how quickly he came when he thought of how your eyes met for a fleeting moment as you danced on stage. The tip of his cock was an angry red, pulsing in his hand as he hissed from how sensitive it felt — and never in his life did he feel so pathetic.

“You good, dude?” Kevin asks, patting his back as Juyeon once again squirms in his seat, “You’ve been acting weird since you came back.”

Juyeon nods his head, releasing a shaky breath as he addresses the concerned man. “A-ah, yes,” he loosens his tie. “I’m fine, don't worry.”

But Kevin isn’t convinced, not one bit when he sees how Juyeon’s pupils are blown and how the beads of sweat rolled down the man’s forehead and down to his neck. This was the first time Kevin saw the usually calm and collected Juyeon this way — the first time he saw him so… out of it. Normally, he’d press on and ask Juyeon if he really was okay, but something in his head told him to leave the man be, and if there’s one thing that Kevin could trust with his life, then it was his gut.

It’s long past midnight yet Juyeon was still wide awake. He remembers getting home at around 11:27pm with the other guys but no matter how tiring the day was, he just couldn’t sleep. He’d been trying for hours now, tossing and turning in bed to no avail. From simply closing his eyes, watching boring videos, and counting sheep. Juyeon had tried everything to put himself to sleep, but clearly, nothing was working.

The thought of you kept him wide awake.

The air-conditioner was turnt up to the coldest setting and yet his body felt like it was on fire, his cheeks burned red and the clothes he was wearing felt so unbearably constricting that he had to take it all off save for his boxers. He’s near naked now, and yet everything still feels so hot. Sweat dripped down his body in buckets, and Juyeon felt like he was about to have a fever with the way things were going.

He knew what he needed — knew that a release would do him wonders, but he already felt bad enough from doing it one time earlier at the show. Felt even worse when you bumped into him after and he got a hard-on from seeing your tits bounce within the confines of your skimpy top.

“Fuck!” He hits the wall next to him, rubbing a hand over his face as if it would help rid him of the shameless thoughts running through his head.

He was so down bad to the point of it being embarrassing. What makes it worse is that the both of you weren’t even friends in the first place. Sure, you’d greet each other time-to-time when passing by each other at music shows out of respect. He’s heard of you and you’ve heard of him. He shows up on the news often and you do too. He’s watched a lot of videos of you online (he's not sure if you have), and you could even say he was a fan, but having a proper conversation in or outside work?

No. None at all.

Juyeon felt so disgusting and pathetic to think of someone he barely even knew this way. A sinner, that’s what he was — his morals, values, and beliefs being thrown out the window just because he couldn’t control that thing between his legs that stood up at just the thought of you. Juyeon truly didn’t know what was wrong with him, he normally didn’t have such a high libido, and yet…

A strained moan slips past his lips, hand trailing down the expanse of his torso leading to the waistband of his boxers. Juyeon felt how hot his body was beneath his fingertips as he reached under and wrapped a shaky hand around his throbbing cock. He knew it was wrong — knew it was so, so wrong to touch himself to someone who’s only shown him good.

You were so pure, so innocent. Everyone sang you praises wherever he went. An angel, that's what you were.

But Juyeon was desperate. And he needed a release.

He sucks in a breath, moaning your name as he traces the tip of his cock with the rough pad of his thumb. The feeling sent shivers down his spine, throwing his head back as he digs his nail into the slit of his length. His body was so hot. Everything felt so hot he'd think he was in hell.

Shit. Was he coming down with a fever?

“Mm, please…” He starts with slow languid strokes, body tired and weak from the events of the day. He squeezes at the tip with each pump of his hand, biting his lip to tone down the whimpers trying to slip past his lips. Juyeon felt so naughty, so dirty knowing that only a thin wall separated him from the other members.

What would they think if they found out he touched himself to the thought of you? The nation’s sweetheart, loved by all for her charm and kind personality… Would they look at him with disgust? Contempt? Would they kick him out of the group?

“A-aah!” Juyeon slaps a hand around his mouth, cursing himself for being unable to control his moans. Every time he looked your way, all he wanted to do was bite. Bite until your skin bled red — bite until you were covered in purple. Juyeon wanted a taste of your skin — your flesh. He wanted to know how sweet you would taste beneath his tongue and teeth.

Would you taste like caramel? Vanilla? Or strawberries? He quite liked fruit.

The skin of his lip under his teeth start to rip from how hard he was biting it, the taste of iron on his tongue making him cringe, and yet while all of this is happening, the pace at which he’s thrusting into his hand never falters. Juyeon felt nauseous as he reached for his sack with his other hand, massaging it between his fingers while imagining you.

The thought of you was torture to him. You ran through his mind at every minute of every day, and yet still — how ridiculous it is that you are still all he’s ever wanted. He knew that this desire — this obsession of his was unhealthy. There were so many things he wanted to do to you, but many more that he wanted you to do to him.

Even during the day, he let his fantasies run wild. Juyeon has imagined you on top of him, warming his cock as your hands wrapped around his throat until he couldn't breathe, till he was suffocating and till he turned blue and passed out. He thought about pounding into you missionary while you scratched at his back and pulled at his hair, nails digging into his skin until they oozed crimson — until the scarlet color of his blood was ingrained into the tips of your fingers. He wanted you to suffocate him with your legs, face wet with your juices as he ate you out until he couldn’t no more.

At this point, he’ll take anything you gave him. Juyeon was hungry, so hungry that just a brush of your shoulders would suffice. It would be enough to make him cum for the next year or two. It was so bad, so, so bad how much he wanted you — needed you to be all his that he was tempted to get down on his knees the next time you met to beg for just a taste. 

The strokes on his length quicken as a heavy feeling starts to form beneath his stomach, trailing a hand up his warm body to tease his nipples. His cock throbs in his hand, begging for a release as your name slips past his lips like a prayer. Juyeon was crying now, tears cooling down his body that felt like it was on fire. He felt delirious, the world around him was spinning and yet he still couldn’t stop himself from thrusting into his hand, pre-cum dripping from his slit and lathering his dick.

As Juyeon feels his release creeping closer and closer, hands sticky as he pumps his cock, it was the thought of the eye contact you made earlier in the day that has him cumming rope after rope of cum. The white coats his hands and stomach, dripping down his waist and ruining his bed. And at that moment, Juyeon couldn’t find it in himself to care about the condition of his bed or how pathetic he looked — naked with cum all over him.

He was tired and spent and he just wanted to sleep.

.

When Juyeon wakes up the next day, he finds that he came down with a fever.

[rindreamery]

Hihi!!! For ur evenr can i request nagi + sweet + kiss on forehead + sibling's best friend

ORDER 11: READY TO GO !

nagi + sweet + kiss on the forehead + sibling's best friend w.c. 1k+

note. sooo, this is more like a comfort fic than fluff... but in MY mind, this is still considered fluff ☝️ nagi tries to comfort you when you're sad abt him and reo moving away for college basically LOL

interested in more? check out the lounge !

this feeling is foreign to him; this overwhelming, heavy weight that settles deep in his heart as he watches your shoulders subtly slump. 

you’re shifting your weight from foot to foot, lingering around the threshold of your bedroom door frame as you watch reo walk past with another box of his belongings. he’s supposed to be helping, he’s supposed to be offering support to reo as he prepares to move out for college, but he doesn’t. he sits on one of the boxes in the hallway, unmoving, eyes trained on you. eyeing the way your eyes stay locked onto reo’s retreating back— sad, obvious in the way your eyelids droop ever so slightly. 

even so, he simply watches, observes, because it’s the only thing he knows how to do. because, even when he tries to come up with the words, he can never string them together to say what he intends to. when you turn to face him, his lips stay pursed shut. 

“aren’t you,” and you hesitate, “going to help reo out?”

he thinks of what to say. which is futile, because in the end, he shrugs and answers with, “too lazy.” a typical answer, one that provides you brief comfort.

you try to smile at that. fighting back the frown that constantly tugs at the corners of your lips, overcompensating by flashing him an unsteady and forced smile. like you’re trying to convince yourself that this is just another day, this is normal, and you’ll see them again tomorrow. but they just never quite reach your eyes— not in the way they always do when you’re truly happy. and your eyes are fluttering, blinking rapidly but softly at the same time, like you’re willing yourself to stop them from glazing over with tears. he can tell, because he always does, especially when it comes to you. 

you’re trying your best to keep your facade up in front of him, trying to act like you’re not upset. trying to act like you won’t miss having him and reo around once they’re set off for college. he doesn’t quite understand the feeling of missing someone this close, a sibling, family— but in a way, he thinks that he might understand what you feel. he thinks he might end up missing you, too— someone close to him. 

nagi feels his chest tighten, so uncomfortable and constricting, at the thought. you're upset, and that makes him upset.

he thinks of ways to rid himself of this feeling, to make you okay again, and he thinks long and hard. a beat passes, or two, and it clicks— and he wonders if what he's thinking could really provide any real comfort to you.

but it’s swift, his body acting on its own before he, himself, truly processes what he’s doing. he’s standing up, taking two long strides, closing the small distance between the two of you in a matter of seconds. before his arms are opening, making space only to hold you. 

frankly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. more concerned with making you feel better, and less about how this isn’t like him, at all.  

your body stiffens at the sudden and unfamiliar contact, arms going frigid at your sides. it's awkward, and he has to nudge one of your arms to move, enough to slither his arm around your waist to firmly plant a hand against the small of your back. he presses, pulling you flush against him, completely enveloping you. and his other hand comes to rest on the back of your head, fingers lightly threading through the strands of your hair, just enough to tilt your head upwards.

he’s leaning down, enough for his lips to ghost the skin of your forehead, whispering, “i’m—” he catches himself, “we’ll always be right here.” before his eyes close as he presses a gentle, almost fleeting, kiss to your forehead— pausing, letting the feeling of his lips last, even for just that extra second. 

the heaviness in his heart lifts, even by a tiny amount, as your arms wrap around him too. reciprocating. he feels the way your body relaxes against him, leaning your weight into his chest as you fully surrender in his embrace. he keeps you there; he lets you lean on him for just a moment longer, feeling the way your heartbeat finally settles into your chest into a steady rhythm. a constant, slow thud. 

he's not sure how long the two of you stay like this, frozen.

when he finally pulls away, only enough to be able to glance down at you, his arms stay still in their spot. he waits as your eyes flutter, slowly drifting open, to look back at him— watching as your eyes widen, mouth parting in shock, as you process what happened. but, you don’t push him away, neither making an effort to untangle yourselves.

off in the distance is the sound of boxes shuffling and being moved around, accompanied by reo’s voice, that drags the two of you out of your little moment. he’s calling for nagi, nagging for him to help him out. you shuffle against him, and feels the light weight and warmth leave from around his waist, as you pull your arms back to your sides. 

nagi clears his throat, awkwardly, looking off to the living room and then back at you. 

“i should…” he starts to speak, quiet as his voice tapers off with uncertainty. his hands linger a little longer on the back of your head, not wanting to pull himself away just yet— but he does. it takes everything in him, but he peels himself off of you, fighting the way every part of him wishes to have you in his arms again. “i should probably go help reo now.”

he watches as you nod stiffly at him, shoulders now less slumped, but feet firmly planted in place as he takes a few steps back. with that, he turns to walk away— not before glancing over his shoulder, one last time, for your eyes to meet for that fraction of a second— heartbeat thundering against his chest. 

© rindreamery, 2025

[gotta-winwin]

hi!

i completely forgot to put the activity in my last ask im so sorry! please just ignore it and use this one, im so sorry!! but for the 24hrs with svt event, i was hoping i could i request either 11:15pm or 1:18am (idk if anyone would take either so take your pick!) with jun? doing either like, legos or a movie or something else that’s cozy?

again, i’m so sorry i totally forgot the activity. i love your writing and hope you have a good day/night!!

no worries! omg legos with jun IS the dream (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)

1:18am

🌷part of the 24hrs with seventeen series ! request a specific time + activity/scenario to experience it with seventeen yourself !

requests are now closed for this event! thank you to everyone who requested.

Jun who texts you at exactly 1:00am with nothing but a simple - "got legos. you up?" He's out the door before you even reply, knowing you wouldn't turn down a late night lego date.

You open your door to see Jun standing on your welcome mat, bundled in a long coat and holding a large cloth bag in his arms. You liken him to Santa Claus carrying a sack of toys, although you reassure him as you let him in that he is much more attractive than the white bearded symbol of jolly.

Jun raises the bag in his hand proudly, showing you the goods he acquired. He explains with too much excitement for 1:00am how him and Wonwoo had passed by the department store and how he spotted the perfect lego set that reminded him of you.

Jun pulls out from the bag a duo set of cats, one light gray and one ginger brown. Eyes crinkled in a wide smile, he proudly shakes the box, bouncing on the soles of his feet as he watches you clear the bed, pushing the blankets and pillows to the side and making room for the two of you to work.

Jun, whose eyes glaze over at how hard he's focusing, eyes trained pointedly on the instructions and pieces. He's insanely locked in, resulting in you having to nudge him with your foot to get his attention.

Jun, who lightly makes fun of how your eyebrows scrunch in concentration, giggling and pointing at the cute expression. His hands naturally drift to his phone, snapping thousands of photos from that one date.

Jun, who orders food delivery even though it's the dead of night. What arrives is a feast, as he defends himself by saying that this is basically just a very very early breakfast.

Jun, who calls Minghao, waking him up to judge whose creation is better. He shamelessly presents his own lego cat to the phone camera, pestering Minghao with the cat's backstory and characteristics. It's endearing to watch, as he creates an elaborate story to fit his lego creation.

Jun, who treats it like a personal victory when Minghao chooses his cat over yours. He tackles you onto the bed, careful to avoid the leftover pieces of lego, enveloping you in his arms. You briefly hear the sound of Minghao disconnecting from facetime before your senses are overtaken by his soft tinkling laughter, peppering kisses all over your face and shoulder.

Jun, who places both your cats on display proudly in his room back home. A smile crosses his face each time he passes by, catching a glimpse of that night with you. Posting a picture of your shared creations on Weverse, he allows the internet to spin wild, although most fans believe it was Wonwoo who made the second cat instead of you.

Jun, who now shows up at your apartment at least twice a month with new legos to build, always after work and very late into the night. It becomes both a habit and a tradition, a way for the two of you to unwind and relax together.

Jun, whose room is slowly overtaken by lego sets. By the end of the year, he's forced to hold an elimination - treating it like a competition as the two of you create a bracket to eliminate sets. The eliminated sets were then donated or gifted to other members, the Simba collection going straight to Hoshi's doorstep.

[puffcap-factory]

Late Night Tea-Time (Wriothesley x reader)

Wriothesley x fem!reader; fluff, established relationship, a teeny-weeny hint of smut. Just the hint, not the real smut.

Basically, it’s you staying up late at night working (and waiting for him) only to see him arriving with another new package of tea collections.

Words: 1.1k

Notes:

Finally! My first genshin fic featuring the spicy Duke of Meropide himself, Wriothesley! It’s kinda short but I’d like to get this one out first as I was thinking of making a short series for him too (no promises, though, I’ll see how it goes hehe)

As always, please enjoy! :D

•~•~•~•

Piles of papers were spread on Wriothesley’s office desk as you carefully analyzed the data regarding the fortress’ logistics, seated on Wriothesley’s chair. The sounds of the piano from the record player filled the air as you took another sip of your tea, hoping it would help you regain the focus that had been faltering.

Suddenly, the creak of the door opening in the room below caught your attention. Wriothesley entered and ascended the stairs, carrying a new box of tea collections in his hands.

“You’re still working on the files? It’s already 11 pm,” he asked, finding you seated on his office chair. 

“Says someone who just returned from a business meeting. And with a fresh stash of tea,” you replied, a playful glint in your eye as you glanced at the box he carried.

It seemed everyone was beginning to catch on to the Duke’s fondness for tea, as most of the gifts he received always seemed to revolve around tea drinking, much to your amusement.

He chuckled softly at your response as he placed the newest tea set onto the tea cabinet, arranging it carefully.

“You won’t be sleeping if you keep drinking your tea, though.”

“It’s Rooibos, don’t worry,” you reassured him, watching as he made his way towards you.

“It’s late, y/n, I want you to rest,” he said softly, standing beside the chair. With a gentle pat on your shoulders, he lowered himself to your seat, planting a tender kiss on your temple. 

“Come now,” he urged gently, carefully removing the documents from your hand and placing them on the table. He offered you his hand, allowing you to stand up from his seat, and led you over to the nearby sofa. You gladly followed him.

He brought your tea cup over and placed it on the low table in front of you before returning to the tea counter. There, he found the pot of tea, still hot from the heater below, the one that you had been drinking from.

“I’ve made that for us. Feel free to pour yourself,” you offered from your seat.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he replied with a warm smile. He poured his own cup of tea before making his way to sit next to you.

After taking a sip of the tea, seemingly content with the brewing, he opened his arm, inviting you to come closer. You understood his gesture and happily nestled into his embrace, feeling his warmth as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.

“I’m not quite sleepy yet,” you admitted softly, looking up at him. He chuckled softly, his eyes filled with fondness towards you.

“Why’s that? You’ve been working on the data since this morning as far as I can remember.”

“I have, but all I’ve done today is sit behind the desk and work on the papers,” you explained.

“And you’re not tired from that?”

“I am– well, my mind is. And throughout the day, you were away, too.”

“So, you’re saying you’re just missing me so much that you can’t sleep?” he teased with a playful chuckle.

“Hey, you’ve been helping me spar in these past few weeks. Those physical activities actually helped me sleep, you know,” you countered with a pout.

“Physical activities, huh?” His eyes danced mischievously, a playful grin appearing on his lips.

“But… I don’t think I have the energy to spar right now. My mind is not in the capacity to devise a strategy to defeat you,” you said lazily, snuggling up closer to him. 

“You were actually thinking to spar right here, right now, at my office,” he gently laughed, his hand running soothingly through your hair.

“Well, why not? It’s not like we’re gonna blow this whole place up,” you replied with a playful grin, glancing over at your almost empty tea cup. You stood up and made way to the tea counter to take the tea pot. Wriothesley watched you with amusement from his seat, his eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and... something else.

Switching off the tea pot’s heater, you prepared to return to the sofa with the pot when the new tea set in the nearby cabinet caught your eye. Curiously, you opened the cabinet and examined it.

“You know,” you mused, holding the box in your hand, “I find it rather amusing that somehow, tea and you are never far from each other.”

He watched you with an amused smile, a spark of curiosity in his eyes as he leaned forwards. “And what do you mean by that?” 

“I feel like the scent of tea itself is starting to rub off on your scent. Imagine people catching a whiff of tea and turning to find the Duke of Meropide himself,” you continued, a small laugh escaping you at the image. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you started to taste like one.”

There was a sudden pause in the moment before he answered. “Taste like one… huh?” he stated, his tone lowering as he stood up from the sofa and made his way to you. You suddenly felt his arm, slowly wrapping you from behind, one arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close, while the other rested gently on your shoulder. The atmosphere had shifted, a subtle tension building as you realized the implication of your words. 

“Perhaps, you should find out for yourself,” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. His warm breath trickled against your ear and down to your neck as he nuzzled softly, hinting at the desire simmering beneath the surface. 

Feeling the heat of his body against yours, you set down the box of tea, fully aware of his unspoken invitation. You leaned back into his embrace, a playful spark igniting within you as you decided to tease him a bit further.

“And how would you suggest I do that?” you turned your head, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smirk, your lips mere inches from his.

For a moment, his eyes held yours, tender yet filled with hunger that started to cloud his gaze. “Well, considering your lack of physical activities today, I have a perfect idea to satisfy your curiosity as well as help you sleep.”

You caught the glint of lust in his eyes and understood exactly what was coming.

“Oh? Then what are you waiting for?”

With a smirk, he effortlessly scooped you up into a bridal carry, his arms strong and sure beneath you. Without a word, he carried you towards his bedroom, the tension between you still palpable. The aroma of tea lingered in the air as you two left the office, leaving the tea to grow cold.

・

・

That night, you slept more soundly than you had in weeks, wrapped in the warmth of his love, the taste of tea still lingering on your lips.

[evie-sturns]

ᴇxᴀᴍ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: you're mind is clouded with stress due to the fact your final highschool exams are next week. matt comes over to help you with studying, and also to take your mind off everything.

contains: smut, fluff, small age gap?, swearing, crying.

—--------------------≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫-----------------——

matt and i have known each other since he was 13 and i was 11, our families have been super close for around 7 years. a year ago Matt confessed to me, I felt the exact same.

"oh my fucking god." i groan, throwing my head into my hands as i feel a burning sensation at the back of my throat.

its my final exam week starting tomorrow, and i'm attempting to catch up on last minute homework beforehand. matt graduated 2 years ago, he was top of his class, i pick up my phone and dial his number.

i need desperate help.

"hey!" matt says into the phone, a smile clear by his voice.

i sniffle quickly before starting "please come over nothing is making sense." my voice wobbles as i clutch the phone in my hand.

"oh fuck-.. no yeah ill be round in 5 minutes okay?" he says gently into the phone.

i nod like he can see me, then hang up.

-

i hear my bedroom door opening, my head snaps up to look at him from my bed. hes got worry painted across his face as i see his eyes dart over my matress, which has several books on it. "you okay?" he asks, walking over to my bed and sitting down on it opposite me.

i shake my head "i can't do this shit" i groan, matt nods understandably before grabbing my hands and pulling them away from my face.

"look at me" he says in a serious tone, i tilt my head up and lock eyes with him. "i'm gonna help you okay?"

"thank you," i say as my voice breaks.

he sits up and walks over by my side before plopping down on the bed next to me, he grabs the textbook which has around 15 questions left on it. "not even ai understands it, i tried." i sigh earning a laugh from matt, i lean my head on his shoulder.

"basic algebra, you know this, i know you do sweetheart."

i shake my head "my brains so fucking foggy i bet you i couldnt do a 6th grade multiplication table right now."

"foggy like how" he questions, tilting his head.

"just everything i have so much on my mind." i reply lifting my head off his shoulder and staring at the questions.

"you're okay, look- 'factorising an algebraic equation means writing the expression as product of factors, which are simpler algebraic expressions, this is done..." the rest of what matt says doesnt get through to me, i cant physically wrap my mind around it right now.

i feel my eyes start to water before several tears start to flow down my cheeks, "got it?" matt asks, keeping his eyes fixated on the page resting on the sheets. i stay silent "hello?" he says again, this time looking over at me.

"oh god- no no don't cry" matt panics, grabbing my cheeks and giving me a gentle kiss.

"i can't think." i squeeze out, matt wraps around me. "this might not sound like good timing but, i can.. help you?" he says nervously, grimacing slightly.

i hand him the pencil, his words not passing through. "no no, like i can take your mind off of the work for a little bit" he repeats.

realisation hits me and my eyebrows raise, my head snapping round to look at matt who has an innocent expression plastered on his face. i nod, and without another word my shirt is halfway across the room.

he laughs quietly, his shirt meeting mine in the corner of the room. his chain lays loose on his bare chest. he stands up off the bed, i lie back. "i want you to just be a... - like a uh" my eyebrows scrunch "a what?"

"i hate the word but its the best way i can describe it." matt chuckles, "say it!" i smile

"pillow princess..?" he says quietly, icking himself out.

"okay" i shake my head with a wide grin before.

matts long cold fingers reach out to grab the waistband of my sweatpants, sending goosebumps down my body. he tugs at it gently, letting it slide down my legs.

"you okay?" he asks while unclasping his belt "i think?" i reply stupidly.

he nods, his tongue sticking out to wet his now dry lips. his baggy jeans pool at his ankles, leaving him in his boxers.

"ready?"

i nod, "yep-..yeah"

he stands between my legs before hovering over me, colliding our lips together aggressively.

it never fails to shock me how he can switch from so innocent to so.. different.

i moan lightly into the kiss as i feel his clothed bulge against my inner thigh. he abrubtly pulls away from the kiss pecking kisses down my neck, to my chest, to my stomach.

i squirm desperately on the bed as he pauses just above my clit.

"more." i whine, matt shakes his head, lifting his head up and grabbing my thighs he spreads them further apart.

i throw my head back "fuck." i breathe, before i can breath again matts tip presses against my clit. i instantly look up, questioning how hes just undressed the rest of the way in under a second.

he runs his soft tip through my folds, he presses only an inch or 2 inside of me before he pulls out, continuing to tease me.

"matt i need you." i groan, my back arching off the bed.

"can you get on fours for me sweetheart?" he asks softly, i nod, instantly flipping over and arching my back.

"good girl." he coos, lining himself up with me. "gonna keep being whiny?" he asks, i shake my head no. "thats right." he says.

"this is whats gonna happen okay? you aren't gonna start asking me to slow down because i think we both know how needy you were just acting."

fuck.

i dont think a single sentence has ever turned me on more.

i nod frantically, matt presses down on my back, arching my back more.

i feel him slide halfway inside of me slowly before slamming the rest of his length into me, earning a squeal from me.

before i can even process my thoughts hes slamming full force into me, deeper and deeper each time. my moans cloud the room along with heavy breaths coming from matt.

his tip continues to bruise my cervix, i clench around him each time it does.

"fuck-.." i hear matt whimper lowly from behind me.

he reaches a hand round under me and presses on my lower stomach.

hes never done that before, but holy fuck am i glad he did.

i instantly release over matts cock, clenching harshly around him with a scream.

matt pulls out, releasing over my back.

"you-you okay?" he stammers breathlessly, flopping down beside me.

i nod, my mind fully blank.

i guess him 'helping clear my head' worked.

-

matt finishes redressing me before sitting back down next to me, the air around us is hot and thick, but matts still determened to get this homework done.

"okay- so as i was saying factorising an algebraic equation means writing the expression as product of factors...

-

matt and i have been working through the textbook for about 20 minutes, everything makes sense and now i can't understand what i wasnt understanding earlier.

"you try this one okay?" matt hands me the pencil and i start to scribble down the awnsers. "you got it!" he smiles proudly, kissing my cheek.

i yawn, tired out from.. everything.

"you tired?" he asks, wrapping him arms around me and flopping down on the mattress. "very." i reply, my voice croaky.

"you wanna sleep, we can finish this tomorrow morning okay? and ill just drop you off at school or whatever." he asks, without another word im fast asleep on his chest.

1:24am

i wake up to the sound of pencil scribbling on paper, confused i sit up. matts sitting criss cross on the bed, leaning down over my textbook and filling in all the awnsers.

"matt?" i groan, rubbing my eyes.

"go back to sleep gorgeous," he replys, looking back at me

"what are you doing.." i ask, my eyes adjusting to the light.

"im doing this for you, you already know how to do it, i saw you. you're gonna be too tired to do this in the morning." he says.

i crawl over to matt and smother him in kisses "maattt, thats adorable."

"shush, this is a one time thing." he replys, shaking his head with a smirk.

--------------------

[smoshyourheadin]

Maybe u could do a Spencer besties to lovers? Like they've known each other a long time yk

Thankssss no pressure if ur busy ofc <3

It’s Always Been You

cw: reader has a boyf who she breaks up w bc he’s an alchaholic!! don’t read if you aren’t comfortable, i’ll catch you another time ml 💛

a/n: EEK IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT ANON 🫶🫶💛💛 also im taking this as smosh spence not cm spence so feel free to re-request if you’d like <33 ps, ive written that he listens to pink floyd here so thats who syd barrett is if you don’t know :))

requests r open!!

///

pairing: spencer agnew x fem!reader

florida, 2002

you and spencer were scurrying around in the freshly mown grass of his backyard, playing tag.

“you didn’t get me, you cheated!” you exclaim, ducking as he reaches out to get you again, tumbling to the floor.

“did too!” spencer retorts, his grazed knees dropping to the floor so he can lean over you. he meets your eyes, pulls a tongue, and hoists himself back up to run to his tyre swing.

all 11 years you’d known, you’d known them with spencer. your moms had been great friends since way before you were born, being in the same book club. or was it an art night? you didn’t exactly know, but you did know that because your moms were best friends, so were you and spencer.

as you sprung back up to your feet, your moms watched your antics through the kitchen window.

“whoever can swing the other the highest gets to have the last red popsicle!” he yelled as you ran over

“oh you’re so on!”

your hands gripped the tyre and you pushed like your life depended on it.

“y’know,” your mom said “one day, they’re going to end up together.”

his mom looked over at yours and smiled,

“i’d be surprised if they didnt honestly.”

los angeles, 2024

you walk through the door of your apartment, and you kick the door closed behind you. your bag slides off your shoulder, and you throw your keys onto the dresser next to the door. you only manage a long groan before flopping onto the couch.

“heya, charlie!” you scrunch your face up as you feel your dog’s cold, wet nose press against your cheek, as he gently wags his tail

“i missed you too boy, work was so tiring today.” you work at smosh with spencer, and have done for the past seven years after you left your job at another channel to join him. it was basically the best decision you’d ever made, every day filled with laughs; practically just a 24/7 hangout. you work with spencer on smosh games, but rarely ever go on camera, even if spencer’s there. you enjoy it anyway though.

you sit up and scratch behind his ears. he wiggles his body contently at your fondness. and then your stomach growls. it made sense, it was currently 6:43pm, and you last ate at noon, so you get up and drag yourself to make some mac n cheese.

as the pasta boils your phone starts ringing.

it’s james.

rubbing your hands over your face, you answer the dreaded call from your boyfriend james.

“heyyy~ sweetheart, y’doin okay? you were hic bein’ a bit of a bitch today, didnt answer my calls, what, you hate me or sumn?” he rambles, most of his words just slurring off.

“james, are you drinking again?” your voice is agitated, hearing the chattering and the low bass of a bar in the background.

you know he has a problem, and you’ve tried to get him to stop so many times. but you just can’t. he just won’t take your help.

“wha- i mean- well- no- but um- well y’r just gonna be mad at me like y’allways are” he stammers, not wanting to tell you the truth.

“no, i’m done with this. you say all this to me when you’re drunk, and then act like everything is fine! i’m sick of it! you spend so much time at the bar, and its the only place we ever go on dates, and i just end up babysitting you! so yeah i am mad! but for the last time! fuck you james.”

you hang up.

you start to tear up, the knot in your chest tight as your emotions come rushing to you, face heating up as tears begin to fall. the hissing of something behind you snaps you out of it.

“shit!” you rush over to to your stove, where the water from your pasta spills over the sides, the flames licking at the bottom of the pan.you take it off the heat and turn it off. it looks done anyway. you add some butter, and, of course, cheese. stirring gently, you sob.

james was so nice to you, always showering you with gifts and praise and love. but it was all for nothing. he just didn’t love you like he loved drinking in the end.

pouring the mac n cheese into a bowl, you call spencer.

“hey lemon! how’s my favourite person this fine evening?” you smile at the nickname.

florida, 2007

“spencer, you’re a boy. why are you so complicated? i mean, its just annoying!” you walk into his bedroom after his mom let you in, clearly pissed off. being 16 isn’t fun, especially when boys you like are rude to you.

“what did he do?” spencer doesn’t look up from his computer, just slightly turn his head.

“he said that i must eat lemons because of how bitter i am. i mean come on!” you lie on his bed and watch him play runescape.

“lemon… hmph” he just smiles and continues whatever he was doing on his game.

“what? nothing to say? ugh! you suuuuuck!”

los angeles, 2024

“yeah, i mean, no. i broke up with james.” you sniffle, and eat a forkfull of your food, elbows resting on the cold marble of the kitchen island.

“i mean- um- yeah thats horrible…” he says

“you’re allowed to celebrate, i know you hated him. and so did everyone. but still. im fragile right now!” you giggle through your gentle tears

“well, i mean, honestly? glad he’s gone. he sucked dude. not sure why you didn’t do it sooner. well, one positive to come of this, your pillows won’t stink of beer next time i nap at yours!” he replies, clearly happy for you.

“yeah,” you chuckle at the memory of spencer falling asleep on your bed, then completing his hair smelt like budweiser “that is true.”

“all seriousness though, are you okay?” his voice is genuine this time, filled with concern.

“no, not really. it’s just… different i guess. but, not much has changed y’know? like, it already felt like he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore…” you begin to ramble for at least 20 minutes, only to be met with the occasional ‘mhmn’ and ‘yeah’ from spencer. mid sentence, there’s a knock at your door.

“oh one sec, someone’s here.” you get up from your table and swing the door open to see a very sympathetic looking spencer, two target bags in his hands.

your jaw is on the floor. you were just crying to him over the phone, and he’d stayed whilst going out to get what you can only assume is things like sour patch kids and vanilla ice cream, which you could see at the top of the bag. your favourites.

“girls night?” he smirked and raised the bags at his sides.

all you can do is smile ear to ear, and wrap him in a tight hug. he leaned into you, basking in your sweet citrusy perfume.

“you’re my favourite, spencie.” you say into his shoulder.

as you both walk inside, charlie comes bounding over to spencer, his favourite person.

“who’s a good boy! charlie is!” spencer was now crouchedby your kitchen island, fussing over your dog as you walked to put on something more comfortable. you slid on some track pants and an old atari hoodie. walking back into your kitchen, spencer has unpacked the bags, and is creating his favourite conconction, The Agnew Sundae. basically the most sickeningly sweet ice cream ever. his dad made it for you both in the summer, and it consisted of:

vanilla ice cream

chocolate syrup

caramel sauce

whipped cream

sprinkles

mini marshmallows

chocolate chips

m&ms

and some crushed oreos to finish.

god, you know you’re going to regret this later, but boy was it a good way to cheer you up.

also strewn on the counter was his switch and copy of animal crossing, a few of his dvd’s for you to watch, and his mom’s chocolate chip cookies.

“spencer, how on earth did you get these? your mom lives across the country!” you hold up the baggie, and raise an eyebrow.

he looks up from his ice cream assembly station, and smirks.

“a magician never- ow!”

you cut him off by lightly jabbing his arm

“okay okay, she visited not to long ago - when she took you to the mall? and she gave me these to freeze and keep for an important event. i think she’d agree this is important.” you cant help but smile at his remark. you missed you moms.

“i’ll have to ring her later to thank her.” you say.

the night goes on, and you and spencer sit on the couch under a blanket watching barbie princess charm school. because what else are you going to watch?

as the movie goes on, and the effects of the agnew sundae kick in; you were dozing off on his shoulder. towards the end of the movie, so does he. he drifts off, comforted by your soft hair occasionally brushing against his face.

you stir awake, the sun beaming into your eyes through your semi-open blinds, and you’re hit by a wave of memory. everything that happened last night comes flooding back.

james’ call.

spencer’s call.

spencer showing up for you.

at the latter, you smile slightly. you prop yourself up on the sofa, and notice the absence of spencer’s warmth by you. frowning slightly, you walk into the kitchen.

“morning sleepyhead” his sweet voice rings through the room

“hey. i thought you’d’ve gone home”

“no, im not that mean! who do you take me for?” he retorts, his attention turning back to the pancakes on the stove.

“pancakes? what time is it?” you come up behind him, putting your chin on his shoulder.

“yeah, and it’s about 10:30.” he leant his head on yours, flipping one. you had to admit, they look pretty good.

“10:30!?” you lift you head in surprise, looking at your phone “shouldn’t we be in work?”

“nope, i called us in sick. said my mom was having surgery. which she is, but i made it sound dramatic so we could stay off.” he looks at you, and smiles slightly.

“well, send her my love! i think i’ll go get dressed now.” he hummed, and you left the room.

opening your closet, you pick out a yellow baggy t-shirt and some grey sweatpants. you pull on some fluffy socks, and slip on a zip up hoodie. walking back out into the living room, spencer walks in with two plates piled high with pancakes, drenched in syrup and strawberries

“so,” you say, a fork full of pancakes in your mouth. “whats the plan for today?”

he looks over at you, and shrugs slightly. “not sure, we could go to the book store you like?”

“ah, you know the way to a girl’s heart“ you put a hand over your chest and giggle a bit.

a few hours later, you walk into the store, door creaking just a bit as a small brass bell chimes overhead. the air is filled with a comforting mix of old paper, leather bindings, and a hint of freshly brewed coffee from the corner cafe that you and spencer like to get tea from. you breathe it in deeply, a sense of calm washing over you. as you walk over the creaky wooden floorboards beneath you, soft warm light filters down from antique lamps, and cast a gentle glow over the rows of books. you ghost your fingertips over the cloth spines while the quiet murmur of whispered conversations and the occasional rustling of pages create a soothing background noise, almost like a lullaby. through spencer’s airpods, syd barrett serenades you both, and his voice blends seamlessly with the ambiance of the store.

“anything good today lemon?” spencer says as he shimmies up next to you in the aisle of towering book shelves, his voice like honey rolling off his tongue. his hair was unruly as always, but he looked so pretty in this light. his face was littered with freckles that you wish you could kiss. he’s smiling at you, and it snaps you back to reality, and reminds you of the fact you’re staring at him

“uh, yeah, i think i’ll get this one” you smile back, holding up a copy of memoirs of a geisha by arthur golden

“cool, shayne likes that one i think. but he likes every book so…” he smiles at his own remark “um, you want me to grab our normal seats in the cafe while you pay for that?”

“yes, please!” you reply eagerly, smiling as he walked off.

you walk up to the cashier, an older lady who always gives you a bookmark.

“thank you m’darlin’, have a lovely day!”

“you too mrs bryson!” you reply, heading over to spencer who’s sat in some plush leather armchairs. as you sit in comfortable silence with him, time seems to slow down, and for a moment, it's just you, spencer, the books, and the comforting atmosphere of this charming bookstore.

“i got you your sweet tea.” he says, handing you a plastic cup filled with your favourite tea.

he remembered.

fuck.

you were in love with spencer agnew, and it took you him handing you your favourite tea to realise it.

“thanks spence.” you say, still grasping the feelings in your chest.

while you read you book and drink your tea, you feel your attention drifting to him. you can't help but glance up from the pages every now and then, watching him as he sits across from you, his focus on his own book. his fingers absently tracing the rim of his coffee mug, his brow furrowing as he reads. the way the sunlight filters through the small window, casting a warm glow across his hair, highlighting the subtle streaks of lighter brown among his dark curls. you find yourself smiling at the sight of him, wondering when these small, mundane moments began to mean so much to you. the bookstore is quiet, aside for the murmur of others reading or talking in hushed tones. yet, with spencer sitting just a few feet away, the world feels like it's faded to the background. it's just you and him, sharing this space, this moment. you watch the way his lips move slightly as he reads, how he occasionally tilts his head in concentration, and the way his eyes light up when he finds something particularly interesting. as he looks up and catches you watching him, you feel a rush of warmth spreading through your chest. he smiles at you, a slow, easy smile that makes your heart skip a beat. he raises an eyebrow, and you quickly look back down at your book, feeling your cheeks flush. but you can't help it; your gaze finds its way back to him, like he's the most interesting story in the room. he seems to notice the shift in the air between you. he closes his book and leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“everything okay?” he asks, his voice gentle, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

“yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual, though your heart is racing. “just... glad to be here with you.”

he nods, his smile growing a bit wider. “me too.”

as he settles back into his chair, you realize that this simple exchange has changed something. the air feels lighter, the connection between you stronger. you may have come here to read and relax, but now, sitting across from spencer, you know you've found something else entirely - something you never want to let go of.

as you leave the store, you’re panicking slightly as you realise you don’t know what to do. so instead you make up an excuse.

“i forgot my keys ," you blurt out, looking back at the bookstore. it's a thin excuse, but spencer doesn't seem to notice. he simply nods, a hint of concern in his eyes.

"do you want me to wait for you?" he asks, already reaching for his phone to check the time.

"no, it's fine," you reply quickly. "you can go ahead. i’ll just be a minute."

spencer seems reluctant to leave, but he nods, offering a warm smile before stepping out onto the street. you watch him walk away, his figure blending into the crowd as he heads toward the main crossing. your heart sinks a little as he disappears from view, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing pulse.

the bookstore feels different now. the warm glow and soft murmurs are still there, but without spencer, it's like the color has faded a bit. you stand by the door, uncertain of what to do next. you could go back outside, catch up with him, and just say it. tell him how you feel. but the words seem stuck in your throat, and the thought of laying your feelings bare feels like too much, too soon.

you step back inside, pretending to look for something you might have left behind. the stacks of books seem to stretch endlessly in front of you, a maze of comforting distractions. you wander through the aisles, hoping to calm your racing thoughts, but all you can think about is spencer - his smile, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the warmth of his voice.

eventually, you find a quiet corner and sit down, closing your eyes for a moment. you know you have to do something. you can't just let him walk away without knowing how much he means to you. but the fear of rejection, of changing everything, feels overwhelming.

you realize you need time to sort through your feelings, to figure out the best way to approach this. with a heavy heart, you decide to make your way home, hoping the familiar surroundings will bring clarity. as you step out onto the street, the cool breeze brushes against your skin, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside you.

on the journey home, you replay the moments with spencer in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of how much he means to you. you know you can't keep hiding your feelings, but you also know you need to approach this with caution. as you unlock the door to your apartment, you make a silent promise to yourself—to take the time you need, to listen to your heart, and to find the courage to follow where it leads, even if it means risking everything for him.

when you get home, spencer tries calling you as he paces around his bedroom, his phone pressed against his ear. the ringing continues, but there's no answer. he frowns, feeling an uneasy twist in his stomach. maybe you're still in the bookstore. maybe your phone is on silent, or maybe you're just busy. he tells himself there's a reasonable explanation, but the doubt lingers.

as he walks to his kitchen, he dials again. this time, the call goes straight to voicemail. his instincts tell him something isn't right. the keys excuse felt odd, and your hurried departure only amplifies his worry. he takes a moment to think, then leaves his apartment, jumps in his car, starts the engine, and drives toward your apartment.

the streets pass in a blur as he navigates through the evening traffic, his mind racing with possibilities. he finds a parking spot near your building and heads to your door. the hallway is quiet, save for the distant sound of a tv from a neighbouring apartment. he takes a deep breath and knocks.

nothing.

he knocks again, this time a little louder. the knot in his stomach tightens. what if something's wrong? what if he's too late? he knocks a third time, and this time, he hears a faint rustling from inside. the door opens slowly, and there you are, standing in the doorway with a look of surprise and confusion.

"spence?" you say, blinking at him as if he's the last person you expected to see.

"i - i was worried," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "you didn't answer your phone, and i - i didn't know if you were okay."

you tilt your head, trying to process why he's here. his eyes search yours, and you can tell he's anxious, almost desperate to explain himself. "i'm fine," you say, "just had some stuff to think about."

he nods, but you can see he's not entirely convinced. there's something else, something deeper. he takes a step back, as if he's about to leave, but then he hesitates. "i - i have to tell you something," he blurts out, his words coming out in a rush. "i like you. like a lot. like i think i love you? and i know it might be weird, and i don't want to mess things up, but I just had to say it - because i couldn't keep it to myself anymore.”

he looks at you, his eyes full of emotions you can't quite decipher yet. you nod, urging him to continue, even though your own heart is racing. there's something in his gaze that makes you realize this isn't just any confession - this is something that's been building for a long time.

"i've liked you since we were kids," he says, almost breathlessly. "i mean, you were always the coolest person I knew. you didn't care what anyone else thought. you were smart and funny and just... so genuinely kind. i remember when we used to ride our bikes around the neighbourhood, and you'd always be the first one to try something new. like, remember when you climbed that huge tree in mr lawson's yard just because you wanted to see the view from the top? i thought you were so brave."

he chuckles softly, his gaze softening as he reminisces. "and then, when we got older, you were always there for me. when my parents split up, and i felt like everything was falling apart, you were the one who came over with a pizza and just listened. you didn't try to fix it; you just let me talk. that's something i've always loved about you. you're a great listener, and you care about people. like, really care."

he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes locking with yours. "it's not just that, though. It's the little things, too. the way you laugh at the dumbest of angela’s jokes, the way you get excited about your favorite books, and how you always know the right thing to say when I'm feeling down. you make everything feel... lighter, you know? like, even when things are tough, you find a way to make it better."

spencer pauses, his voice growing more earnest. "so yeah, i've um, been holding onto this for a while, and i just, couldn't keep pretending that i didn't feel this way. i like you - a lot. and i don't know if you feel the same way, but i just couldn't not tell you anymore."

he takes a step back, the tension in his shoulders indicating that he's prepared to leave if needed. "i don't want to make things weird between us. if you don't feel the same, that's okay. i just had to say it, because you're the best thing in my life, and i can't keep acting like you aren't."

his confession takes you by surprise, but as he speaks, you feel a surge of warmth in your chest. the words you were struggling to say are suddenly so clear, so obvious. you watch as he starts to turn away, his shoulders slumping in resignation. before he can take another step, you grab his arm and pull him back, your lips pressing against his in a gentle, yet desperate kiss.

he freezes for a moment, stunned by your sudden action, then his arms wrap around you, pulling you close. when you finally break the kiss, you look into his eyes, and there's no doubt, no hesitation.

"it's always been you," you whisper, your voice soft but sure. "you're my person, spencer."

he hugs you tightly, his grip firm and comforting, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. it's a perfect moment, one that feels like the beginning of something new, something beautiful.

and as you stand there in each other's embrace, you know that everything's going to be okay, because you have each other. and that's all that matters.

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 817: Takadajou's strategy

Pag 1

1: I see them, Jou-san!!

2: Ahead!!

3: Kyofushi is 200m ahead of us!!

And Naruko is 100m ahead of them

4: Let's switch, Naruko

Now it's my turn!!

6: Hakogaku is switching the lead

Now the one running in front is

Pag 2

1: number 12, Hakone Acadey's control tower, the third year Takadajou Rei!!

Pag 3

1: Woah, they changed the lead so quicky!!

Oh....

2: Is this how you change lead?

So efficient

Just now, that Takadajou guy

3: passed number 11 on the left, so close it looked like they were going to collide

4: He matched the deceleration of his partner and moved ahead smoothly, as if slipping

Pag 4

1: Like the pocket of your clothes you're used to have store your phone in

2: Unlike MTB, road racing involves a lot of wind resistance for a long period of time

3: Since 60% of the wind resistance is met by the person in the lead, the ones riding behind don't lose much energy

4: In a long match of road racing the loss of energy accumulates, so even small actions like taking turns should be done without wasting energy

5: Moreover, just now they didn't simply “switch”

6: He moved ahead while accelerating and intentionally leaved a gap behind for a moment

7: To close it....

Pag 5

1: We behind had to step on!!

3: Basically, he's making us consume our energy

So while switching, he's also attacking

4: This guy is the type to use his head well while running, yon!!

Pag 6

1: Now, what should I do?

2: The distance is 200m, and ahead of that it's 100m

3: Should I wait until Kyofushi catches Naruko and then swallow them?

4: Or should I decelerate on purpose and let Gunma get ahead?

5: Or, like Kyofushi, should I tear off the ones behind us and join those ahead?

Pag 7

1: Alright, here's a quiz, Yuuto

Which one of the following is the correct way to catch those ahead of us?

2: Wait a sec, Jou-san

3: There are three options!!

4: You should stop grinning and asking quizzes when the race is reaching its climax

I told you before, didn't I?

5: You told me?

6: That if you have an answer then just do it

We really are at the climax – there are....

Pag 8

1: 2km until the finish line!!

2km left until the finish line of the Inter High's first day!!

Pag 9

1: They're chasing the three people ahead!!

The distance is around 100m!! Kanagawaa!!

They're so fast!

2: They're coming into view!!

3: Indeed

Right?!?

4: It's a shame to see your perplexed expression, Yuuto

The quiz's answer....

5: Me? Perplexed?

.. was none of the three

Ah!?

It's the fourth one...

Pag 12

1: “Only catch....”

Pag 13

1: “Kyofushi”

Pag 14

2: Hakogaku accelerated in a moment...!! And they.... they caught Kyofushi!!

3: Who's that four-eyes with the square glasses

He's terribly fast!!

4: Ehi!! The quiz is alright, but if you plan on accelerating please tell me!!

I really am perplexed!!

5: …. mi

6: …. mi

7: Oi, look, Kyofushi's assist moved back a little

Pag 15

1: I couldn't... catch up..... with the red guy.... mi

2: Hacchobori-kuun....

3: And then.... they caught up from behind...

…. mi

4: This guy.... that face....!!

So...rry

5: Puku, but there's still work to do?

This is bad!!

Recover!!

Hacchobori-kuun, if

6: we fall behind in a moment like this..

Recover!!

This guy....

Pag 16

1: is losing sight of the goal!!

2: Tch

3: Kyofushi's number 46 is falling behind!!

What's going on!?

4: Losing sight of the goal....!!

5: When running in road races both stamina and emotional strength are pushed to the utmost limits!!

Especially before the finish line!!

Pag 17

1: For cyclists, their “goal” supports their minds

If they don't have that....!! That's the reason he fell behind

3: So the ones who you should be the most wary of are the ones who have their goals!!

Pag 18

2: Are you kidding me, Kyofushi really was swallowed? The Kyofushi who was supposed to be chasing me!?

3: That was Hakogaku's four-eyes Jou!! The guy Kabu talked about!!

4: Oruaaaaaa!!

Pag 19

1: Kyofushi's aim was to “absorb the lead”.... if they did that, it would have been too late

Completing an event creates the next goal

2: So I absorbed Kyofushi first!!

3: Now if we go a few hundred of meters further we'll be able to naturally absorb Naruko, too

Ugh!! This guy thinks so much it pisses me off!!

4: Even so, isn't it cruel that among the three options the right one was the fourth one?

5: I prepared the fourth one on purpose

Pag 20

1: Because in road races things always go beyond expectations

2: I don't really get what he's saying, but

As expected, when his bangs fall down, Jou-san snaps

3: By the way, your acceleration earlier was amazing, do you have a name for it?

4: Yeah

5: “The euclidean speed of sound”

The origin is always euclidean!!

[bybobbysbeard]

Fine Gold

Day 11 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: double date read on ao3 read other days here

Karen gestures expansively, her horribly bright cocktail sloshing dangerously. “So I said, the rotational energy is going to overcome the momentum and you’re not going to land where you’re expecting to. And he laughed at me. Like, what, I developed the thrusters so I don’t understand how a gyroscopic inertial works? It was my trajectory he was screwing up!” She smacks the table with her free hand. The little skewer of pineapple in her drink wobbles around the glass. “It was infuriating!” 

Tommy laughs, tipping his head back to hit the padded booth.

“Tommy! Stop laughing at me! I need another mechanically-inclined mind at this table. Buck’s too ADHD to hold a scientific conversation when he’s drinking and I can literally see my wife’s eyes glazing over.” She flaps a hand at Hen, slouched against her and watching the dancefloor.

Hen waves her nearly empty beer glass in Karen’s face. “Hey now, I am plenty scientific. Just not about aerospace engineering.”

“Yeah, cut your wife some slack Karen, it’s not like she’s a doctor or anything.”

Hen gasps, mock offended. “Et tu, Brute? The betrayal. And after I invited you and Buck out to our favorite bar.” She grabs for the pineapple skewer, dodging Karen’s block and biting off a chunk spitefully. She takes a sip of her beer and makes a face.

He laughs again. “Bet that tasted great.”

“Oh shut-up Kinard. I thought spending more time with Buck was supposed to make you less of an asshole. Where’s your better-half gone anyways?”

Tommy leans forward, trying to see the bar. “I’m not sure, I thought he was getting another pitcher. I can’t see him from here.” He’s just about to get to his feet when Karen pipes up.

“Uh oh.”

“Uh oh? What’s ‘uh oh’?”

Hen follows Karen’s gaze and sighs, heartfelt. “Your boy’s dazzling the regulars again.”

“For the love of God… excuse me.” He clambers to his feet, draining the last of his beer, and turning towards the bar. Hen’s right. Evan’s holding court, animatedly describing something with one hand while he holds the requested pitcher of beer in the other. At least four people of various genders are pressed close around him, a snapshot of Sweetwaters’ eclectic clientele.

This is the third time this has happened tonight. Evan is a natural flirt, moreso when he’s not even trying. Add in the fact that he’s glowing with happiness, and a little bit drunk, and he’s basically irresistible. Like a 6’2” puppy. Tommy can’t really blame them for getting sucked into Evan’s orbit. Hell, it happens to him everyday. It doesn't hurt that his boyfriend looks phenomenal, lit by the glow of hundreds of string lights hanging above the bar. Of course, Evan always looks good, even half-asleep and covered in drool, or after a 48 and covered in soot, but there’s something special tonight. 

His pastel-blue button-up shows off his tanned arms and his dark slacks fit his incredible legs, incredibly well. The white sneakers were a choice, but Tommy can admit they work with the look. Two pitchers of beer have left a light flush on his cheeks, and his curls have passed artfully tousled to nearly reach sex-hair levels of chaos. His lips are pink, pink, pink, spread around a wide grin and he’s making devastating eye contact with his audience. He makes some motion, probably reenacting a rescue, and throws his arm up above his head. Even from here, Tommy can see his cuffed sleeve straining at the seam. 

One of the women actually swoons back half a step. Okay, this is getting ridiculous.  

There’s a gold chain hanging loosely around Evan’s neck. It rests just below the hollow of his throat. The lights from the bar catch it and throw little caustics up against the smooth skin of his jaw. A heavily tattooed man at the bar, tall and lean with glossy waves of blond hair, leans forward. He rests a proprietary hand on Evan’s forearm and smiles charmingly. Evan looks startled, but still happy, glancing down at the hand on his arm. 

Possessiveness churns in Tommy’s stomach.

Three hours ago Evan had sat, completely naked and still damp from the shower, on the foot of their bed. He had sighed and pouted, and complained they were going to be late, but Tommy had been adamant. He knew the bar they were going to, and he was self-aware enough to know how tonight was probably going to go for him.

He hadn’t been joking all those months ago when he told Evan he could get jealous too. 

So, sue him. He wanted a visible claim on Evan. Not a hickey, though he was sure he was going to be leaving those on the delicate skin of Evan’s neck before the night was over. But something subtler. Something he could look at when he saw other men fawning over his boyfriend, trying to catch Evan’s attention, wanting him. Something to remind himself the only one Evan wanted was Tommy. 

Evan had perked up when he opened the slim, blue velvet box, and had audibly gasped when he dangled the fine gold chain in front of him. He had ducked his head when Tommy stepped close, carefully draping it around his neck and fastening it, before spinning the clasp to the back. He had hummed, watching as Evan’s eyes drifted closed as his fingers danced over the chain. One hand had gone to Evan’s jaw, tipping his head up and to the side so Tommy could see the gold against his skin. He had traced the cool metal with his fingers, over and over again until it was warm from their shared body heat and Evan was squirming and straining against him. Then, he patted his boyfriend on the cheek, and told him to get dressed or they really would be late. 

Evan had swore at him, and threw a pair of balled up socks at his head.

Tommy was paying for his earlier teasing now. He’s not sure how much is Evan getting his revenge, and how much is just his naturally adorable self. His boyfriend can sometimes come across as guileless about social cues, but he’s got a bratty streak a mile wide. Either way, Tommy is suffering. Hen had taken one look at his face the first time Evan had gotten ‘distracted’ by someone at the bar, and nearly laughed herself sick. 

Tommy walks up as the tattooed guy sways even more into Evan’s space, letting go of his arm to get a phone out. Evan is nodding at something he’s saying, but his eyes trip over to Tommy when he gets close enough. There’s a light there, catching in his blue eyes; some sparkling mischief that lets Tommy know that this encounter, at least, is Evan playing with him. The stranger’s eyes also move over to him, and he leans back on his stool, clutching his phone and straightening up. He gives Tommy a slow once over. Brown eyes dart between the two of them.

Tommy lays a hand on the small of Evan’s back, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the rounded muscle of his shoulder. “Was wondering where you got to with the beer, baby.”

“Oh sorry, I was just talking tattoos with Jordan here.” Evan turns his head towards Tommy, close enough to kiss but not reaching out. His eyes drift down to his lips.

“Is that so?” He murmurs into the space between them. His eyes flick back up to ‘Jordan’ and he lets his expression go flat.

Jordan straightens even further. He looks kind of bizarre, perched on a bar stool with his back ramrod straight. When he speaks, his voice is loud, blusterous. “Yeah man, Buck’s got some nice ink.” And then, more confrontational, “What about you?”

Tommy turns to face him, lips curling up into a smirk. ��No tattoos here. I’m more into piercings.”

He can hear Evan gulp beside him. 

Jordan’s nostrils flare. Tommy smirks wider, letting his teeth show. Evan squeaks out some excuse, turning away from the bar and hugging the pitcher of beer to his chest. He flutters his free hand over Tommy’s back as he herds him back towards the table. Over his shoulder he throws a distracted, “Nice to meet you.”

Tommy chuckles as Evan harries him, Hen and Karen looking up as they get close. Evan’s blushing, making his blue eyes stand out even more. He thumps the pitcher down, sitting down and scooching into the back of the semi-circle bench seat, looking up fervently at Tommy. He sits down too, laying a hand heavily on Evan’s thigh. Hen’s shaking her head as she pours herself another beer, and Karen slurps noisily at her straw.

“I expect this kind of behaviour from you, Buck, but Tommy, if you get us kicked out I will never forgive you.”

“No harm done, Evan was just making friends.” He slides his hand higher on Evan’s thigh just to see him freeze and choke on a breath, before trying to hide it behind his empty beer glass. Hen rolls her eyes and takes a long drink of her beer. 

Karen giggles at them, fishing the last ice cube out of her glass and crunching it, with obvious satisfaction. The music changes, something poppy and upbeat, and a cheer goes up from the dancefloor. “Ooh!” She grabs Hen’s hand. “Let’s dance! You guys coming?” She looks at Buck for an answer. 

“I–I’m okay right now.” He looks to Tommy, who shakes his head, lifting his palm off of Evan’s thigh and reaching for the pitcher. “We can watch your stuff though.”

She pins him with a knowing look and his blush darkens. Hen and Karen shuffle out of their side of the booth and step away, melting into the swarming crowd. Tommy pours them both fresh beers and takes a long sip. The song swells. The lights change too, dimming around the tables and strobing pink and purple over the dancefloor. Tommy slips a hand around Evan’s waist and pulls him close. He brushes a kiss over a smooth cheek and Evan melts against him.

“Were you trying to make me jealous, sweetheart?” He speaks right into Evan’s ear, staying close to be heard over the music.

Evan nods, breathlessly, and turns until his cheek brushes Tommy’s and he can feel hot breath on his ear. “Yeah, I m–mean, yes. Yes, I was.”

Tommy hums curiously. “How’d that work out for you?”

Evan groans. “God, you’re so hot. When you’re jealous, when you’re being a bitch, when you’re laughing at me.” He swallows, and a hand drifts to Tommy’s chest, fiddling with the buttons of his black shirt. “Can we get out of here?”

Tommy doesn’t answer, instead pressing a kiss to the side of Evan’s neck. The hand on his chest wanders higher, warm fingers reaching his collar and brushing across bare skin. He bites down on a tendon, lightly, and Evan makes a sweet little noise. Tommy worries at it with his teeth until Evan squirms, his other hand sliding up to Tommy's neck. He hauls his boyfriend closer by the arm around his waist, his other hand landing on the sticky table top. Shaky fingers drift over the bolt of his jaw and find an earlobe, tracing over the thick silver hoops he's wearing. 

The hand on his chest turns purposeful. Evan unerringly finds his nipple through the two shirts he’s got on, searching for one of the little barbells he recently started wearing again. It’s not surprising behavior; Evan’s obsessed with his piercings. He tugs on the metal bar, twists it carefully. Heat pools in Tommy’s belly. 

He licks the abused skin under his mouth, pressing another light kiss to the blooming bruise before backing off. Evan’s hands on his body keep him close, but it's far enough. His boyfriend looks debauched. His eyes are blown black, a thin ring of blue around big, fat pupils. His mouth is red and open, an indent in his lower lip from where he was biting to keep quiet. 

Tommy grabs his glass and takes a deep drink. He sets it down with a sound that he can’t hear over the pounding music and Evan’s heavy breaths. His hand is damp with condensation. He loops a finger through the fine gold chain around Evan’s neck and gives it a gentle tug. He bites his lip again, half muffling the little moan that tries to escape. Blue eyes are fixed on Tommy. 

“Let me finish my beer, and then we’ll say goodbye.”

[sanguineterrain]

sanne i know nothing about these men but… somehow i know you’ll do something so delicious with that little panicked reach for them (ready to catch them at all costs) if they trip ever so slightly + jason todd…. or dick if he fits better :] they’re vigilantes right like surely the reflexes are turned up to 11

ruby!!! hello my dear <3 i appreciate u sending a prompt for my newest brainrot :D makin me feel warm n fuzzy inside. short n sweet! thank u for the prompt :)

dick grayson x gn!reader. fluffy, reader trips for a second.

****

"...And I was telling her about this new coffee shop that had just opened, and she wants to bring her stupid boyfriend! Like, what is that about?"

Dick smiles as you walk backwards, cup of froyo in one hand, bag in the other. He's offered about a hundred times to carry both, but you refuse, insisting he needs to save his strength for patrol.

That had earned you a very unimpressed look.

"Not to play Devil's advocate, honey, but you also have a boyfriend—watch the pole!"

You dodge the telephone pole before you ram into it. The close call does nothing to discourage you from continuing to walk backwards. Dick shakes his head.

"Sure, fine, but you're actually fun to be around, Gray."

"I'm glad you think so, sweetheart, I really do try. Hot dog cart!"

You walk around said hot dog cart. Dick sighs at you, fondly exasperated.

"Can't I persuade you away from walking backward, dearest darlingest?"

"I'm practicing for my initiation into the Titans," you say. "Anyways. Where was I? Oh, yeah. If you met this guy, you'd get it. He has the personality of desk gum."

"Is that gum you keep in your desk, or..."

"It's the gum kids stick under school desks that you probably have to use a blowtorch to remove. And he acts just like that! You know he made her give up a—"

"Babe!"

Your next step is wrong as you cross a curb. The dip in the sidewalk makes you wobble backwards, and you squeal in surprise, froyo flying out of your hand.

You brace yourself to sit hard on your butt. Instead, a strong arm wraps around your waist and yanks you back to solid ground. Dick's other hand darts out and neatly catches your froyo cup.

"Are you okay?" Dick doesn't wait for your answer, herding you to a nearby table in front of a cafe. He sets everything on the table and takes your ankle in hand, rolling it experimentally.

"Dickie, I'm fine," you say, petting his head. "Just a stumble."

He huffs, then looks at you, hair falling into eyes.

"Now will you walk forward?"

"Only if you'll hold my hand," you say, wiggling your fingers.

"Is that supposed to be a bargain? I'm basically getting two things I want," Dick says with a grin.

He pulls you to your feet and hands you your froyo, but not your bag. When you reach for it, he tuts.

"Ah-ah. How will you hold my hand, then? Plus, you need at least one hand free to balance."

"You'll always catch me, though," you say.

Dick kisses your temple. "'Course I will. Still not getting your bag back. Let me be a gentleman, hm?"

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Steve blinks at him like he’d forgotten he was there. He gestures at Steve’s head. “Concussions?”

“Oh,” Steve says, like it’s obvious. “Yeah. I got hit in the head, like, four times.” He tilts his head, thinking. “Was it?” He asks rhetorically. “Jon clocked me first, then the Russians and Billy. And I don’t think the last time counts as a concussion, really, but in Lover’s Lake? When the bats dragged me through? I definitely hit my head. And there was the choking happening too, which definitely didn’t help.”

He shrugs, like he’s counting something inconsequential, like sticks, instead of brain injuries he’s had. “So, like, three and a half.”

Again, what the fuck.

He says so out loud, and Steve just shrugs. “I mean, I’m okay. I was okay, even, I just had to learn how to do things differently.”

Eddie looks at Steve like he’s crazy. He’s starting to think he is. “You’re talking about brain injuries. Life-changing injuries that, if you didn’t take care of them, could be life-threatening.” He shakes his head. “How are you not wrapped in bubble wrap twenty-four seven?”

“I’m fine,” Steve stresses, “and it’s a moot point anyways, the concussions are gone, so it doesn’t matter.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Anyways, how far are you on the song?”

“Oh, right! I’m having a little bit of trouble on this one part, but I should have it mostly down by the end of the day.”

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. “Incredible.”

Eddie frowns, suddenly defensive. “What?”

Steve blinks at him. “What? I mean it. I think it’s really cool how you can do that. And to be able to learn an entire song in a day especially. Not to mention one that sounds as challenging as that one does.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, desperately hoping he’s not blushing. Based on past experiences, though, he thinks he’s probably about the shade of the tomatoes Steve’s slicing. “Thanks.”

Steve smiles at him, closed-lip but no less real, and Eddie escapes out to the living room.

“Eddie!” Dustin says, motioning him over. “Okay, look. The Upside Down, right? And Eleven’s basically got True Sight. She can see anything that’s happening down there. So why not use her as a lookout?”

Eddie raises a brow. “You mean besides the fact that using her powers drains her, and we might need her for the final boss?”

“Oh,” Dustin says, disappointed. “Right.”

Eddie ruffles Dustin’s hair and sits down, studying their papers. “I think you’ve got the right idea,” he tells Lucas. “They said these things are vulnerable to fire, right?”

“Right.”

“There’s this book I read called Fahrenheit 451 about firemen who actually started fires, instead of put them out. Think about the trucks you see, right? With the big hoses? Imagine fire instead of water. Or even just some kind of flammable liquid that we could light quickly. If we can concentrate the jet enough to not worry about spraying everything-”

“We spray what we want and light the suckers up,” Mike finishes, grinning.

“Exactly,” Eddie agrees, pointing at him. “The trouble comes when we start thinking about all the little drops that land everywhere, not where we want them. Water mists everywhere. If there’s a solid-enough line of mist from the fire back to us, we’re in trouble.”

“So hairspray,” Dustin says. “Aerosolize it. Put it on a long hose with a long tube, far away from us, and mist everything we want to mist.”

“And wind?” Eddie asks. “If it blows back in our faces…”

“Right,” Dustin nods.

Lucas looks between them and sighs. “Steve!”

“What?” Steve calls back from the kitchen.

“Is there wind in the Upside Down?”

Steve walks out, frowning. “Wind? Not that I can remember. Why?”

Lucas grins, first at him, then at the guys gathered around the table with him. “I think we have an idea.”

Steve catches Eddie’s eye. “You’re helping?”

“Trying to,” Eddie shrugs, stretching as he stands. “Trying to get them to think outside the box in a different way.”

Steve grins, nods, and disappears back into the kitchen, coming out less than a minute later with a platter of sandwiches. “The rest of planning can wait until after dinner,” he tells them. “And thank El, she helped.”

A chorus of “Thank you, El,” rang from the table, and Eddie snags a sandwich before stepping back to where Steve is. “Thanks,” he murmurs, taking a bite. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but whatever happened during those four years in the future… I think it might’ve changed you for the better.”

Steve grins at him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

[jjsadmirer]

Good Looking

warnings ; toxic ex rafe x reader, jj maybank x reader, revenge type plot, fluff, drugs, alcohol, makeout scene(im not good at writing this stuff in good detail so apologies if its bad) ,

Summary ;

After finding Rafe basically cheated on you, you figure it's time to finally stand up for yourself.

"Why are you crying?" JJ says concernly. He's always been like that, always there when you need him, like a knight in shining armor.

Tides trash inside

Baby I'm high octane

You explain to him the situation, what you witnessed and explaining how it wasn't the first time, you end up alone with him on a part of the beach no one really goes to, ranting to him. Usually you'd never talk about your feelings, but with JJ it was different.

My core vibrates in an opium haze

He puts his arm around your shoulder. "I seriously don't get why you give him anymore chances, I mean come on. Rafes not some golden child, I doubt he'd take your fathers job." he says angrily, You're glad you have JJ, you think to yourself.

He's right. Rafe was basically the outcast of the family anyway ever since he started doing drugs, you look at JJ as he's still insulting Rafe and smile, you put your head onto his shoulder and lean on him, taking in the smell of his cologne and the fresh but slightly salty ocean air.

He moves his hand from your shoulder to your side, half hugging you and also taking in your perfume. He looks at you and you lock eyes with him, neither of you realizing how close your faces were until then.

Yet you think we're the same?

The breeze becomes a bit slow, everything slows down as you and him stare at each other, he looks at your lips and you both lean into eachother, kissing. Suddenly the whole world stopped, quiet and peaceful, the only thing you could hear was both of your hearts beating fast.

The skyline falls

as I try to make sense all

He pulls away looking at you, wondering if you liked it or not, you look at him and smile, he smiles back and half hugs you tighter, "is this..okay?" he says looking at you. "Of course" you say before your lips collide again.

This time, he bites down on your bottom lip, you understand what he's signaling and you give him entrance,your tounges dancing with eachother. You are now making out with JJ Maybank . What a night.

He puts his hands on your hips, breaking the kiss to breathe. "Y/N.." he says catching his breathe. You stare at him and smile, you push him down into the sand and lie beside him.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time. To long." he says as he lies down on the sand, you lying beside him and he holds your hand, placing is in the middle of you and him.

I thought I'd uncovered your secrets

Turns out there's more

You didn't even care about Rafe or anything right now for that matter. You can't keep your eyes off of him and he can't keep his off you either. You both look up at the stars and see a shooting one. "Make a wish!" you say closing your eyes.

"My wish has already come true" he says gripping your hand harder.

You adored me before

"Let's go back to my place." he says.

"Alright" you reply.

Oh my good looking boy

Part 3? (Tysm for 10+ ❤s on the first chapter!! 11 for part 3 if we can!! Or maybe a commenttt)

[techramonic]

What are some facts or tidbits about Daniel that you don't think is very well-known?

Hey! Thanks for the great question. I have a few things not a lot of people have talked about Daniel, all of which are information taken from his father's book: "Walking in Daniel's Shoes".

Facts about Daniel Mauser

1. Daniel's name came from the Biblical character Daniel and his mother Linda's fondness of Elton John's song titled with the same name. Conner was Linda's maiden name and since she was an only child, it was a way for them to carry her family's last name.

2. In sixth grade, he struggled somewhat with depression. After his mother sent him to a therapist, it was revealed that he was feeling stressed because at the time, he had pneumonia and missed school a few times. He felt that his teacher was pressuring him to catch up. Fortunately, he recovered after a few months.

3. Daniel used to be in cub scouts and boy scouts for a few years. Once school had became more hectic and he was more engaged in piano lessons, he dropped out of the scouts. He had earned basic badges but was not too enthusiastic with scouting long-term.

4. On July 24, 1999, Boy Scout 359 installed a park bench in Daniel’s memory along the South Rim Trail at Roxborough State Park, ten miles south of Columbine. Daniel was once a member of the Boy Scout Troop that preceded 359. Roxborough was the Mauser family’s favorite hiking area.

5. He played chess and won second place in a Denver metro tournament as a member of the school's chest club team. He also won two National Science Olympiad awards, presented to the top ten scorers in general science knowledge.

6. He was an occasional babysitter and was great with kids.

7. He was a Junior Volunteer at Swedish Hospital for two summers and helped in the pharmacy and he expressed interest in working in a medical or medical research field.

8. Despite winning often in games like Super Mario Brothers and even Foosball, his dad had caught on he was getting bored of playing with him, but despite that, he still played whenever he was invited because that was how much he loved his father.

9. He had a keen interest in current events and social issues and was a frequent reader of Time Magazine and viewer of 60 Minutes.

10. His father said he sometimes worried about little things, like if the gas tank in the car was getting too low.

11. He played soccer for a couple of years when he was younger, tried skiing, and played baseball on a YMCA team.

12. Before his death, Daniel's Biology teacher told his mother that he would be receiving an award for outstanding sophomore biology student. It was a supposed secret, one which Daniel never found out.

13. His family was very close. Tom described them as a "Dinner Table Family", who always ate dinner together. According to his father's words, "there was no sneaking off to watch the TV or play on the computer. We are together, talked together, and exchanged stories."

14. Daniel and his sister were close despite their contrasting personalities. Daniel was more like his mother—shy, introspective, intelligent, and calm. His sister Christine was like her father—outgoing, witty, a bit wild and crazy. He would often roll his eyes at her and in an exasperated tone, he would exclaim, "Theater people! Oh, my God!"

15. He had a dry sense of humor and his mom thought he prided himself on being a rational sort of fellow who was not given to drama of any sort.

16. Tom, Daniel's father, grew out of poverty. He came from Finelyville, a small town south of Pittsburgh. His father was a coal miner, his mother was a housewife, and he was the youngest out of four siblings. Tom rarely had pictures of himself. However, he didn't want that to happen with his children, so he would frequently take their pictures and film them to keep memories.

17. Daniel didn't like his pictures being taken when he was a teen. His father would still insist to take pictures for keepsake.

18. When he was fifteen and a half, Daniel was qualified to receive his driver's permit but he said he wasn't ready yet.

19. His nickname in debate class, according to Devon Adams, was "Moose": "So appropriate —it's a large, amusing but quick and fierce when-it-needs-to-be animal."

20. Daniel volunteered to rake the leaves off the lawn of a neighborhood senior citizen's house after he recently had a heartattack.

[missbubblesoda]

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (28)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27) | (29) | (30)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 4.7k

Romance authors often portray dancing with one’s beloved as an endless joy, something that could easily last well beyond nightfall. Yet your throbbing feet, bound and constrained by the white straps of your low-heeled shoes, silently resented them for such a lie. That’s why, when lunch was served, you eagerly welcomed the opportunity to sit down for a moment or two and catch your breath before inevitably dragging him back to the dance floor. After all, when else would you have the chance to slow dance against his chest, your chin resting cozily on his shoulder, and his arm wrapped protectively around your waist?

When you savored the first mouthful of peppercorn stuffing you realized that the Koch’s definition of good food was remarkably similar to yours. Everything, from the velvety gravy soup, the endless procession of assorted biscuits, the indulgent servings of steamed pudding, and the generous dollops of raspberry jam you coronated each of them with, prompted contented hums from your lips whenever you took a bite.

“I don’t recall ever seeing you this happy during a meal, not back at the base at least,” he noted from the seat next to yours, a playful smile on his lips and a forkful of roast venison in his hand.

“Well, that’s because you’ve never actually seen me during a meal. Have you, Commander Smith?” you responded casually, eyes completely focused on the extra dollop of jam you were serving, while your mind wandered to all the times you urged him to put his pen down and join you and the others in the dinner hall, even if just for a piece of bread. “Maybe if you graced us with your presence at dinner from time to time, you would see that I enjoy the Survey Corps’ food just as much. But you insist on eating alone in your office so...” you shrugged nonchalantly before bringing a spoon loaded with pudding to your lips.

“Have I upset you, my lady?” he asked with a smile that denoted he wasn’t the least bit concerned, and then, lifting a napkin, proceeded to wipe red jam off the corner of your lips.

And what an absurd question it was. No one with that shade of blue in their eyes and that disarming smile on their lips could ever upset anyone. There was no possible way, especially not when his face was this close to yours; his caring gesture, as sweet as it was unexpected, completely dazzling you, disorienting your senses until you found yourself nodding dazedly, your own eyes hopelessly lost in his.

“How very rude of me then,” he concluded, softly brushing the cloth against your skin, and you honestly couldn’t tell which was softer: the silk or the back of his fingers.

“Mother!” you exclaimed abruptly, springing up from your chair the moment you discovered her poised frame standing beside you. “We w- I mean I was- how do you do, Mother?”

“Darling,” she sent an acknowledging nod your way. Her usual composure, evident in both her assured demeanor and controlled voice, masked any hint of what she thought or felt, and at the same time, sent your heart into a flurry. Her gaze flickered to the Commander, who rose with practiced ease, a stark contrast to your own fumbling attempt from a few seconds ago.

“Madam,” the Commander offered your mother a warm smile along with a welcoming hand, a silent invitation you desperately hoped she wouldn’t refuse.

“Commander Smith,” she replied after a stretch of silence, which you wished had been shorter, placing her hand in his with ladylike charm.

Although your heart still pounded and raced inside, a flicker of relief found its way within when you saw the genuine smile blooming on your mother’s face as the Commander helped her into the vacant seat beside him.

“Pleasure to finally meet you,” she declared in that regal tone she reserved for social occasions, and it dawned on you: how long it had been since you last heard her speak that way. At home, her voice was always so mellow, less measured, especially around you and your father. And a sting of longing shot through you, a sudden wish for more of those casual evenings shared around the dinner table. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Commander Smith,” she added.

“Not from the press, I expect,” he said, earning a hearty chuckle from your mother. And you lowered your head, trying to resist the childlike smile shyly tugging at your lips as you watched the scene unfold.

“Rest assured, Commander Smith. Despite the occasional critique about the Survey Corp’s overbaked tomato pie, my daughter’s letters are otherwise filled with glowing reports about her days under your leadership.”

“So, Mother! Where’s Father?” you blurted out abruptly as soon as the Commander turned to look at you, a questioning eyebrow raised above a widely amused smirk that spelled ‘I knew you didn’t like our food!’ on his lips. “I was hoping he could meet Commander Smith today.”

“Your father? I was under the impression that he was right behind me,” she sighed in disappointment, glancing around in an attempt to find him among the partygoers. “Guess I shouldn’t have assumed. Maybe one of his… secret society buddies snatched him, or maybe the government finally got him,” she spoke with a touch of nonchalance that made you huff, shaking your head in playful disapproval of your parents’ bickering as you exchanged a smile with the Commander, who seemed downright entertained by your mother’s presence.

“If those bureaucratic buffoons you call ‘our government’ were to find us, color me surprised,” a masculine voice emerged from behind, and you didn’t need to turn in order to know who it belonged to. “Let's just say, Hansel's neck would be on the chopping block way before mine. We can worry about this head above my shoulders after they scrape his off the floor,” with that, your father materialized beside you, snatching a piece of bread from your plate and biting the best part off.

“Father,” you rose to your feet in greeting, gesturing towards the Commander with your hand, “This is Commander Erwin Smith.”

“You bet he is!” he yelled enthusiastically, the bread he had previously shoved into his mouth now getting in the way of his words, so he tried to wash it all down with an indulgent sip of his apple toddy. “What a momentous occasion! Today will go down in history as the day we finally crossed paths, my Commander,” he declared, a wide grin splitting his face.

My Commander? Since when? You thought, a silent snort almost escaping your lips. You wouldn't dare say it aloud though, not wanting to disrupt the moment or make the Commander uncomfortable. You knew time had softened your father's stance on the Survey Corps, especially towards their leader, but it was just too comical: to think this was the same man who, not too many seasons back, used to rant every week about the government wasting their funds on the Scouts.

Regardless, you were glad he had come to see him in a new light. Because Erwin Smith, his people, and the sacrifices they constantly made deserved nothing less than the utmost respect.

“Well met, my lord,” the Commander replied with a cordial smile. Standing right by his side, you blushed at the height difference between you two. There were moments when you felt genuinely small next to him, and this was one of them, but it always brought you a strange sense of security. And suddenly, you found yourself longing to experience that comforting feeling again, to be held in his strong embrace once again today, like the first time, that late summer afternoon in the forest of Giants Trees… To feel even smaller and overpowered by him, his solid muscles, his manly scent... Yes, that would be the perfect ending to a truly fantastic day.

“I have heard a great deal about you from your lady daughter,” he added, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine warmth. “She even mentioned your... unique ability to interpret nature's signs.”

“Is that right?” your father turned to you, pride shining in his round eyes. “Do you know what wisdom Augusta’s azaleas are revealing today?”

“Unfortunately, my lord, I wouldn’t be able to interpret such… botanical pronouncements,” the Commander replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. You weren’t surprised by his skepticism. By now, you had made peace with the fact that a man of science like him would, most likely, always remain in disbelief, no matter how many times nature proved you or your father’s predictions right.

A hearty laugh erupted from your father. "Ah, but perhaps they whisper of blossoming relationships today! Maybe even lifelong bonds taking root, huh? Wouldn’t you want to know, my Commander?" he winked at you, causing you to immediately duck your head in an attempt to hide the kaleidoscope of reds your face had become.

The things he says! Since when did he even-

You took a deep breath, exasperation and affection wrestling within your chest. Classic Father, you thought, always saying what’s on his mind, even if his comments leave everyone a little flustered. You mentally made a note to apologize to the Commander for not warning him about this side of your fa-

“Lifelong bonds. An interesting interpretation, sir,” you looked up, his blue eyes choosing to share a moment with yours even though his words were aimed at your father. “They are a treasure worth cherishing, indeed,” he said, warmth blooming in your chest the longer his gaze lingered on you. And… was that longing in his eyes?

Was he thinking about those days too?

We used to spend hours collecting wildflowers by the stream near our cabin, drinking fresh lemonade in the summer, making love with the bedroom door ajar and the rainiest of mornings ahead of us…You reminded him in silence, surprised by the sudden urge to share with him the memories of your future together. And you swore you saw a ghost of a smile touch his lips before he chose to replace it with words.

“Perhaps some things are best discovered through experience, rather than foretold.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning, tightening your throat with bittersweet nostalgia, and blurring your vision with vivid pictures of memories you were yet to create. Blinking back potential tears, you looked away, a blush creeping up your neck as you realized it was probably your turn to respond. So, taking a deep breath, you hid your longing with a smile.

"Perhaps they are, Commander Smith," you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the backdrop of laughter surrounding you.

“Are you enjoying the reception, sir?” The Commander asked, and you knew him well enough to recognize this as his way of diverting attention from you, giving you space to steady yourself.

“Greatly,” your father replied, taking a hearty gulp of his drink to freshen up his throat. “And now that they've started serving apple toddies, this whole thing’s gotten a lot better! Ha ha! Although, to tell you the truth, the food can’t hold a candle to my wife’s cooking,” he added, trying to appear unassuming as he swirled the amber liquid thoughtfully, and you could vividly picture the discreet eye-roll your mother had answered him with. “Her green tomato pie is absolutely heavenly… Tell you what, Commander?!” he suddenly looked up, a mischievous glint appearing in his face, and while you didn’t know exactly what idea had crossed his mind, you certainly recognized the sparkle it had ignited in his eyes. “How about I show you my sincere appreciation with a proper dinner? Consider it a thank you for looking after our precious daughter.”

Your heart skipped a beat, hammering completely off rhythm against your ribs, the butterflies in your stomach swirling uncontrollably, creating a wave of nervous excitement that destructively washed over you. Surely, he couldn't be suggesting...

“I’m sure you’re a busy man, but I also know you are a highly intelligent one, which makes me think you have already assessed the situation, and identified this as probably the only opportunity you’ll have to enjoy my wife’s phenomenal cooking. In the nearby future, at least,” your father declared, leaning forward, his proposal making your stomach clench tighter.

Your gaze flickered to the Commander. He was about to respond to your father, but paused to steal a glance at you, a silent question exchanged between your eyes, unspoken… yes, but you believed you understood.

"Father, that's not necessary! Commander Smith is much too busy—" you blurted out, the memory of the Commander’s dismissal of Angelika Wald’s invitation still fresh in your mind. And you weren’t brave enough to risk facing the same rejection. “He has a long journey back to the base and… needs to leave shortly after the reception.”

“Is that so?” your father asked crestfallen, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned to the Commander, and you had to admit he wasn’t the only one feeling dejected over the situation. Even though it may seem you were a little too eager to discourage the dinner, in truth, you were just doing your job, making it easier for the Commander to decline unnecessary appointments.

“My duties require a swift return to the base indeed,” he interjected, his words awakening a dormant discomfort in your chest, a faint ache you felt guilty for even having. Of course, he had responsibilities waiting, a mountain of paperwork and a whole base relying on him, to be more precise. Not only that, but he had already generously given you Sunday free, insisting you spent the entire weekend with your family. What else could you ask of him? Nothing. Doing so would be selfish, an indulgence you couldn’t justify.

“But perhaps…” he added unexpectedly, leaving you momentarily breathless, “Perhaps I could manage to find a way to fulfill both my obligations and experience your wife’s legendary cooking?”

Your chest rose and fell in rapid motions, trying to keep up with the beating of your heart, which had been hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs just moments ago, and now soared with a lightness you had only felt when you were together with him… secluded in your imaginary cabin in the woods.

“Only if it wouldn’t be an inconvenience for her, of course,” the Commander clarified, gesturing towards your mother. “I wouldn't want to impose on your hospitality, sir, madam."

A radiant smile bloomed on your face, threatening to split your cheeks in two, as the weight of your earlier anxieties now seemed to melt away slowly, getting gradually replaced by a giddy anticipation that bubbled up exactly like the fizzy contents of the bottle you knew your father would pop open for dinner tonight. And you couldn't help but steal a glance back at the Commander, the warm smile he gave you in return held a knowing glint, a silent confirmation of your suspicions: He knew exactly how happy he was making you. And suddenly, although still a little guilty, you felt the uncontrollable need to hold his face in both hands and kiss him. Yet the image of what your mother would do following such events, quickly destroyed that notion.

“Nonsense. Allow us to treat you to the relaxed evening a hardworking gentleman like you deserves every now and then. Right, pumpkin?” your father said, turning to your mother for confirmation.

“Consider yourself most welcome this evening, Commander Smith,” she replied promptly, a subtle smile gracing her lips, and an inviting warmth unfolding in her voice, both very reminiscent of home. And you hoped the Commander could feel it too, you hoped he could understand: Just how welcome he was.

“Lovely! We shall expect you at the entrance within the hour, my Commander,” your father concluded, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. “Until then, please enjoy the remainder of the festivities.”

With that, he walked away with your mother for a final indulgence in refined mingling. As you watched their backs blend into the crowd, a soft smile played on your lips, cherishing the heartfelt kindness they had enveloped the Commander with. Maybe he needed it, maybe not, but you definitely wanted him to have it.

“So…” he leaned in to whisper in your ear once your parents were out of sight, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “We overbake our pies…”

“I never said that,” you countered with a hint of innocence, meeting his gaze with the unwavering confidence typical of someone who has no secrets to hide. Although a mischievous grin betrayed your amusement. “I called it ‘enthusiastic baking.’ Mother may have taken some creative liberties with her interpretation,” you added, wrapping several biscuits in a cloth napkin for the carriage ride home.

-

“Surely, my Commander, the situation is as clear as day," your father's booming voice resonated from the tearoom at the other end of the hallway. Even if by the time it reached the kitchen, it had softened to a murmur, neither you nor your mother needed to understand the exact words in order to know what he was talking about. The sheer excitement in his tone was a dead giveaway. "The true power lies with a hidden hand, content to manipulate a puppet king while they themselves remain hidden in the shadows. Their motives you ask? One can only speculate.”

The conversation, which at this point risked becoming your father’s monologue, sharpened as you neared the end of the hallway, the crinkling of porcelain against your fingertips accompanying the sound of your heels against the floorboards.

“However, unlike that old gossip Hansel," your father chuckled, a hint of disagreement lacing his tone, "I believe the answer lies in preservation."

“If the public, or some foreign power were to set their sights on this so-called king…” your father continued, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper.

“The true royal family, whoever they may be, could remain untouched, veiled in secrecy and free to continue their reign… from the shadows,” the Commander interjected, and you arrived just in time to see a flicker of genuine curiosity cross his face. “I see your point, sir, a most intriguing notion indeed. This 'so-called king' would serve as a convenient buffer, deflecting any public discontent or potential threats aimed at the true power behind the throne.”

The Commander, you knew, had a liking for devouring dusty tomes on royal history. Did he, perhaps, find amusement in the conspiratorial air of the conversation? Or was there a spark of something deeper behind his words, a thirst for uncovering the truth about the hidden hand your father, and his own late father perhaps, believed controlled the Walls?

“Precisely, Erwin. I may call you by your given name, right?” Your father checked again, his question painting your cheeks warm shades of red. At some point between Lord Koch’s front door and your own, the Commander had been promoted from ‘my Commander’ to just ‘Erwin’, as if sharing a carriage ride automatically granted your father the right to address him by his first name.

As you placed the silver tray on the small table in front of them, you stole a glance at the Commander, curious to see his reaction, which came in the form of a smile, quietly playing at the corner of his lips as he inclined his head slightly, a silent acknowledgment of your father's request.

“It’s a solid theory, wouldn’t you say?” the mischievous glint in your father's eyes hinted at a newfound understanding between them, perhaps forged over their shared interest in royal intrigue rather than whatever gratitude your father claimed he held towards the Commander for saving your life in the Forest of Giant Trees. “Now, here’s where Hansel and I disagree,” he continued, leaning forward in his chair with a conspiratorial air. “He thinks it's all about keeping information locked away, some dark secret they desperately want hidden,” he paused, clearly for effect, his gaze flickering around the room as if checking for eavesdroppers.

“A dark secret, sir?”

Your father nodded, leaning in even closer, his voice now a low rumble. “Hansel believes it’s about manipulating the very fabric of history itself. Imagine," he said, his eyes widening with a dark intensity, "rewriting the past to suit their needs, erasing any trace of their true origins or some terrible deed they committed."

He leaned back again, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “Think about it. Controlling the past is the ultimate power, wouldn't you agree, Erwin? By messing with the records, they control what everyone knows, they keep people blind to the truth, forever dancing to their tune. Thank you, buttercup,” your father said when you added two cubes of sugar to his tea. You mockingly mouthed a silent ‘buttercup’ at the Commander across the table, who tried to hide an amused chuckle behind a raised teacup.

Despite his apparent amusement, however, you recognized the struggle flickering behind his eyes. Concern, perhaps. After all, royal calumny was supposed to have claimed the lives of many, including his own father. Or was it an even heavier burden? A reminder of all the unanswered questions he had voluntarily inherited from him, those haunting mysteries he had vowed to unravel on his behalf.

“Aren’t my daughter’s pastries fantastic?” your father boomed, switching the mood with a hearty laugh. “I think the Survey Corps kitchen could’ve used her talents more than your squad, wouldn't you agree, my Commander?” he joked, a proud smile splitting his face as he dunked the corner of a freshly-baked biscuit in his tea, “no dangerous expeditions for her, just pastries and biscuits for everyone at the headquarters. A win-win situation for each one of your soldiers, wouldn’t you say?”

The Commander dipped his head slightly, a barely perceptible smile gracing his lips for a fleeting moment before it vanished. He took a measured sip of his tea, his eyes locking with yours across the table before he murmured, in a voice so low it brushed only your ears, “Everyone except for one.”

A faint smile, almost imperceptible, tugged at the corner of your lips. Two. You answered in your head, a conversation flickering between the two of you without a single word spoken.

It was a secret message only he could decipher, similarly to how the hint of affection now hidden in his gaze was something only you could see. This was your secret language, born from shared peril on the field, one you had perfected through stolen glances, clandestine touches, and secretive moments like this.

“Goodness! I should invite Erwin more often!” your father jumped excitedly, his eyes widening at the sight of the overflowing platter your mother brought in. “I'd ask what the occasion is for all this hospitality, but it’s not every Saturday we have the Survey Corps commander over for dinner, is it?”

You chuckled as you carefully arranged the small pies your mother had brought on individual saucers, each one holding their very own miniature piece of sunshine: the vibrant yellow slice of tomato you had placed on top.

"Don't forget your vegetables, everyone," you teased, placing a dainty silver fork beside each pie.

Though they weren't exactly an everyday treat, tomato pies were a familiar comfort you enjoyed quite often. They were simple, nourishing, not particularly difficult to make, and your mother could practically whip them up in her sleep. Today, however, you understood your father’s surprise. His favorite treat was still familiar in taste, yet transformed in appearance, which you had taken special care with this afternoon, an unusual twist meant to be a delightful surprise for the Commander.

"These look fantastic, Madam," he remarked, taking the plate your mother was offering.

"All credit goes to her," she replied, her hand gesturing your way.

You met his gaze in the middle of the tearoom, another silent exchange passing between you as your lips offered him a small, furtive smile in return.

"A delectable surprise, indeed," the Commander said, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes before they returned to the pastry, his gaze leaving a lingering warmth on your skin as some sort of ‘thank you’ note, perhaps. And then, when he took a bite of the buttery, brandy-infused crust, and the taste made those same lines beside his eyes deepen, a quiet yearning started to bloom within your chest.

Here, in your parent’s tearoom, bathed in the gentle afternoon sunlight and the comforting scent of baking, he seemed a world away from the horrors he faced daily. This was the kind of life he deserved, wasn't it? Quiet, comfortable, a far cry from battles with flesh-eating giants and the mangled pile of bodies they left behind. An afternoon tea with a nice conversation, and a plate of perfectly golden, tomato-topped pies – these were the simple pleasures he rarely, if ever, experienced.

As you watched him savor the pie in quiet appreciation, a sting of possessiveness, sharp and unexpected, twisted in your gut, as you found yourself desperately wishing that you could be the one to create these peaceful moments for him, not just this once, but for a lifetime.

"Sir, Madam," he began suddenly, bringing you back from the sea of thought you drifted to ever so often, "your daughter has a real talent for making the simple appear..." He paused, letting his deep, husky voice please not only your ears, but a secret, sensitive path down your body—a path that, though hidden beneath your dress at the moment, he happened to know very well "...utterly delightful."

The steam escaping from the teapot wasn’t a match for the eager summer now burning between your legs; his lips, as well as the smirk tugging at them, acting as a delicious reminder, both tempting and frustrating, of a desire you couldn't indulge, not while your parents were present at least.

"Thank you, Commander," You answered, your eyes still indulging in the sweet curve of his bottom lip, “but it's truly not difficult when the produce is this beautiful," you said, gesturing towards the vibrant yellow decoration atop the pie. And it was true. The Lemon Blush were a gentle variety. Sweet, sunshine-colored things, their bottoms blushed in lovely sunset pink. “Truly a pleasure to work with," you finished, your smiling lips tainted with a bit of mischief that betrayed you weren’t referring to the fruit exclusively.

A soft chuckle escaped his in response. Like honey on a summer afternoon, you loved the way it lingered in the air: the sound of his laughter, a sweet reminder that beautiful things still existed, a melody you always replayed in your head, long after it was gone.

Still wearing the same smile on your lips, you settled beside your mother, whose vigilant eyes you suddenly became very aware of, and when you turned to face her, you were not met with her characteristic warmth, but with the unreadable mask she now wore over her features. Your entire face started to mirror the blush of the tomatoes themselves upon realizing she had been watching you intently, it was unclear how long, but it was certainly long enough to make your joyful demeanor falter, your smile vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Luckily for you though, your father, always blissfully immune to any type of awkward tension, unknowingly came to your aid with a hearty chuckle. "Don't let her fool you, Erwin. Most nights, it's a way simpler fare in this household."

You flashed him a playful glare, his intervention momentarily making you forget about the weight settling within you.

“Seems ages since my darling daughter graced us with her culinary flair. Last winter, wasn’t it? Can you believe it? Ha! How long must a poor old man wait for his sweet buttercup to spoil him again!” your father continued, a touch of mock-hurt in his voice, and your eyes involuntarily rolled at his words.

“Admittedly, it was a special occasion back then too,” he conceded, his voice adopting that pretentious tone he reserved for embellishing stories, for making them grander than reality. The playful glint in his eyes gave away the exaggerated version of whatever tale he was about to tell, even though his lips were yet to utter a single word. “Hansel’s nephew, a fine young lord, came to formally request my daughter’s hand in marriage,” he finished with a conceited smile, his mouth blissfully stuffed with cake and a large crumb clinging to his beard, sweetly oblivious to the way his words had dragged your heart to the very pits of your stomach.

-

next chapter

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! 😊 If you’d like to support my writing, you can do so at ko-fi/missbubblesoda 🫧

taglist: @mysticalnightbeliever @aliasrising @elnyrae @mchlist @apts2000 @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe @erwinawesomeness @lucifers-nipple-piercing @karmabyfernando @thicc101q @shittyprofilebutfuckit @dilfenthusiast-union

[bellewintersroe]

Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter! Smut Part 12 here’s the LINK for part 11- tw - smut, dirty talk, dirty, dirty sex okay, mentions of it being rough, Max and OC are kinky. Minors DOI *18+*

Leni and Max decide one night that waiting isn’t an option. Facing the consequences in the morning doesn’t sound like such a bad thing, right? The tension boils over and just how much they’ve needed one another shows.

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24@larastark3107 @maxxiemoo @crashingwavesofeuphoria @18754389

“Well… we don't have to wait just for tonight…”

“What does that mean, Leni?” He turned to face me properly now. The covers were completely off my legs and I was fully exposed. “As in… you know.” I awkwardly spoke, hoping he’d take the hint. Max’s brow raised as he groaned falling back.

“You are going to kill me.”

“No I won’t.” I smiled, eyes meeting his again. “You will.” He nodded, back against the headboard. “Are you sure you want to though, like? I thought you weren’t ready for anything.” All this talk was killing the mood, I wanted to bounce on top of him like there was no tomorrow. He was making that kinda difficult.

“What’s one night gonna do?” I looked at him through my lashes. Max opened his mouth to say something but it fell flat. His hand then shifted down to the back of my thigh, pulling me closer in a swift move and holding under my chin with his hand. His hand engulfed my jaw and part of my neck, fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing. “It’s not just gonna be one night.” He hushed before quickly pressing his lips upon mine. Once they touched, that was it, my arms wrapped over his shoulders and I found myself kneeling in front of him, his hand on my neck, the other on the waist band of my underwear.

Our lips moved, hungry for more, everywhere he touched burned my skin, pulling me closer, tighter, harder. Max’s hand planted on my ass, pulling me onto his lap where our crotches met. I didn’t care how fast this was moving, I needed him, I’d needed him for so long. My pussy began to ache in a dull matter, and when I met his hardened member it only worsened the animalistic desire that grew inside of me. The press of my clothed pussy against him had Max letting out closed mouth moan against my lips. Fuck, I couldn’t help but repeat one back, his tongue grazing against mine.

The kiss was messy, hot, desperate, I began grinding my hips against him, rolling them in a hungry manner, my clit catching against the swell of his cock- but it wasn’t enough. Max and I broke the kiss, he watched back to me, open mouthed and aiding the roll of my hips with a push of his hand. His thumb dug harsher and harsher into my hip bone as we basically dry humped one another.

“Fuck.” Max grunted out, flipping me fully onto my back and landing on top of me, lips pressing to the warm skin where he’d lifted my top further up. The feeling of his kisses tickling over my skin had me breathing heavily, desperately. God, it had been so long since anybody touched me like this, now Max was suddenly kissing down my midrif, preparing to eat me out? Holy fuck.

I felt myself go dizzy when he ripped off my underwear, he didn’t have anytime to waste, apart from the kissing and biting of my thighs. This time I actually let out a moan, hands gripping the bedsheets as he looked back up to me before licking over my pussy that ached for more. Holy shit, he was so good at that- his tongue worked like magic against my pussy, sucking and licking over my sensitive clit, teasing my hole and devouring me like a starving man.

My hips were rolling, my legs were twitching and I desperately clutched at his hair. “Max.” I choked out his name, covering my mouth. He reached up, entwining his hands with my own. “It’s okay.” He hushed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I panted out. “The rooms soundproof.” He commented before delving back in. His mouth was warm and wet against my core, it felt heavenly. If he kept going I would probably cum within minutes. “Oh, fuck.” I moaned, eyes rolling back. I maybe tugged a little too harsh on his hair, especially when he sucked over my clit. Max let out a groan and squeezed my thigh in response.

“Please fuck me.” I hushed, not sure if he heard. He was lapping up my pussy so good that he seemed too focused to hear anything else. “Please, please, I want you to fuck me.” I whined out this time. Max looked back up to me, lifting off slowly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” My chest was heaving and falling. He wiped the back of his mouth and squeezed at his erection in his Calvin Kleins. He looked so big, so hard. I felt empty, I needed to feel the stretch of him, so badly. His face was flushed and hair was all tossed around from where I’d been tugging at it. His eyes were sex hungry and his pupils had dilated giving him a devilish look. “I don’t have any condoms.” He muttered. “Im on the pill.” I nodded, seeing his face relax as he smiled a little, beginning to strip me of my shirt.

“Fuck.” Max cursed, squeezing over my breasts. “I didn’t know they were pierced.” He swallowed as I hummed, tightening my legs back together. Max pushed them apart again, falling on top of my body once again. This time, my hands pushed down to his underwear, scraping my nails gently up the smooth of his back. Max inhaled against my chest, catching my nipples against his mouth. I let out another closed mouth moan, bucking my hips to catch against his.

“So gorgeous. So, so sexy.” He borderline groaned, desperate to catch me in for another kiss. “Max.” I gasped, my fingers frantically tugging at his waist band. Not even taking them off, Max pulled himself free with a slight groan, watching his actions as I felt the press of the head of his cock against my hole.

He licked at his hand, lubricating his dick, I was wet enough but the way he slid slowly into me was orgasmic- literally. We both let out a sigh, his head coming back up to face me. “Is that ok?” “It’s good.” I smiled reassuringly. “You feel so good.” He sighed, burrowing his face into my neck and kissing me tenderly. He pushed himself all the way in with a shaky breath, and I swear I was sent to heaven and back hearing his pleasure. My hands held onto the back of his shoulders, spreading my legs a little wider. Max moaned, pulling his hips back and grinding them back as he fucked into me. “Are you good?” He checked.

“Yeah, are you.” I whispered as he offered me a gentle smile, kissing me tenderly. “Yeah.” He simply responded, our lips attaching as he began moving. My head was cloudy, clearly I wasn’t thinking straight. How could I when Max was inside me? It all felt so naughty and secretive, like we shouldn’t have been doing it. “Is the room actually sound proof?” I checked, “what?” He breathlessly questioned. “Oh yeah. Yeah it is.” He nodded, propping his hands at either side of me.

I let out a sigh of relief and pleasure, lifting myself up with him to catch another kiss. “Fuck me harder, please I want it, Max.” I dirty talked. He groaned in response, snapping his hips into mine, coming to kneel up as he held my thighs and hips, occasionally running his hands back over my tits. Max was a fucking demon on the track, and I could confirm he was the exact same in bed. He’d fucked me like the world was ending, our skin slapping against one another, his hands gripped at me almost painfully, sending me to pure bliss on the mattress below.

“Max!” I cried out, gasping as I gripped at his hands. He let out a grunt, falling forwards and panting from working so hard. He looked so fucking good. “You’re so fucking tight, oh my god. Feels so fucking good.” He cursed and my stomach fluttered yet again. All I could do was moan at his words, clutching at his hand as he pulled himself out gently. His cock was replaced with his hand, “I don’t wanna cum too soon.” The roughness of his actions was softened with a loving kiss to the inside of my knee, my chest was heaving and falling and he placed a hand on there, soothing me, before running it down, over my breasts, my stomach and back down to my pussy that was dripping wet. His two fingers slid inside of me, and immediately my head fell back again. “Jesus, Max.” I half laughed amazed by his pure stamina. He glanced up to me making sure I was okay before speeding up his movements. Max reached angles that nobody else could, his fingers constantly hit the sensitive part inside of me and soon I was covering my mouth, preventing loud cries of pure ecstasy escape my mouth.

“No, I wanna hear you, Leni.” He tugged my hand down, pinning it besides me as he watched my face contort as he threw me over the edge, the sound of his movements mixed with my wetness filling the room. “Fuck, Max!” I choked out, feeling myself squirt all over his hand and my thighs. He milked me through it, smirking like he’d just won a race.

“Didn’t know you could do that.” He commented once I’d come down from the overwhelming sensation. “Well you wouldn’t would you.” I panted, pushing myself up on my sore knees, a little wobbly at first. Max looked back up to me with gentle eyes and the most softest smile I’d ever seen. It felt like I fell in love- fuck no. I couldn’t think like that. I kissed him tenderly, his lips gentle against mine as I inwardly sighed against his lips, climbing on top of him so my pussy was pressed against his cock. Max was big, he took care of himself (I could tell) and when I took him in my hands I felt the way he tensed. He breathed out, watching me jerk him off as I rolled my hips teasingly. I couldn’t believe me and Max were doing this. The realisation hit me and it dawned on me how actually crazy this was.

“What’re we doing, Max?” I giggled, hand still wrapped around his cock. “Just…” he shrugged with a slight laugh. He pulled me in for another kiss and I slipped his tip back inside me again. Our foreheads rested against one another and his hands came to slip over my back and ass, feeling the bounce of my flesh as I moved on top of him.

“Feels so good.” I cried out gently, dropping my head against his cheek. Max turned, kissing my temple as he entwined his fingers in my hair. “Keep bouncing.” He hushed as I pushed myself up, following his instructions. I rode Max like there was no tomorrow, arching my back as I began to grind against him, my tits were bouncing, I was breathless, it was so hot.

“Max.” I squeaked out, feeling him pull my hand onto my clit, before removing it. It’s like he wanted me to put on a performance, so of course I was going to give him that. “Max!” I cried out again, head dropping back slightly, hair draping down my back as I bounced harder. My legs were burning, but I didn’t care, I was going to cum and it’s all I wanted.

“Say it again.” His voice was husky, strained as he let out an actual moan. “Max.” I repeated, breath hitching as his cock hit the sensitive part inside of me. Quickly, he began moving in response, fucking his cock harder, deeper inside of me. I couldn’t speak, he threw me over the edge so quickly, my whole body tensing as my orgasm washed over me.

“I’m cumming! Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” I yelled out, with one last snap of Max’s hips I was pushed through my orgasm, the coil snapping and my whole body was thrown into complete ecstasy. “Fuck, Max.” I groaned, collapsing onto his chest. His hand moved to hold the back of me, keeping me close and borderline soothing me through my climax. It was the most intimate I’d ever felt, he was playing with my hair, kissing my cheek, fuck, yes we were close enough to have sex, but this felt so…. comfortable. “You okay?” He suddenly spoke once my breathing had calmed, I lifted myself up, sitting back up on him again. “Yeah, sorry. I’m out of breath.” I admitted as Max smiled, rolling me onto my back. The last thing I expected was for him to eat me out again, but fuck, I was practically riding his face like I hadn’t just cum.

“Fuck, you’re so good at that.” I sighed out, my hips rolling against his mouth. He hummed, sending vibrations against my sensitive clit and I jumped from overstimulation. I don’t know how, or why it happened so quickly, but I found myself reaching a 2nd orgasm from his mouth alone.

“Oh my god, Max. I’ve never done that before.” I panted, rolling onto my front, my head slumped against the mattress. “Are you okay?” He asked as I smiled up to him, pushing myself up on all fours. “I want more.” I shyly admitted.

“More?!” He smiled, running a hand over my ass. “Mmmh.” “I’m not gonna say no to that.” He responded as I giggled, feeling him slide slowly into me. He hit just at the right angle, but I was over sensitive and jumped slightly, moaning. “Sorry.” He hushed.

Max moved so gently, fucking me until I grew used to the sensation of his cock inside me again. I arched my back, hearing him groan even louder. “Harder, Max.” I hushed as he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, speeding up his actions, fingers gripping into my ass harder and harder. His thrusts became overwhelmingly fast, he was practically jack hammering into me, groaning and grunting as I snatched at the pillow, pornographic moans escaping my lips.

“Fuck me, Max. Oh my god, fuck me!” I moaned out. “Leni-” he groaned, hand slightly slapping down onto the flesh of my ass. “Do it again.” I moaned through my teeth. He brought his hand down to spank me twice more and my moans only grew. Max snatched my hips into his again, doubling over and falling ontop of me with an exhausted groan. “I’m gonna cum, fuck.” “Cum inside me, Max, please!” I begged. “I’ll cum inside you, fuck, I’m cumming!” The sounds that escaped his mouth as he orgasmed made me dizzy, Max’s hands tightened over my skin, falling on top of me as he groaned with each wave of his orgasm as he spilled his seed deep inside my pussy.

“Fuck.” He pushed me down gently, falling on top of me with a kiss to my spine. His hand found mine, breathing easing out as he rested behind me, kissing my shoulder tenderly. “Fuck, Leni.”

“That was so good.”

“We should make this a more common occurrence…”

[mashup-writing]

Backstage Brainstorm (Resident Lover; Cassandra Dimitrescu)

-------------------------------------------------------

Requested? ❌

"Hurry home, let's never leave the house."

Summary: It hasn't even been a week since the Romeo and Juliet play had It's closing night but Cassandra, the ever sky-reaching star, is already trying to think up her next play that will be shown on the Campus theatre next year. It's up to you to convince her to get some much needed sleep.

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Resident Lover Masterlist

01-11: I swear, there was someone who asked me to make a Cassandra fluff fic but I can't find it in my inbox so now I'm not sure if I just accidentally deleted it or if it was in the RL Server that someone asked..

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶-----------------------

Light assaults your eyelids and you can't help but groan in sleepy annoyance. It's not bright enough to feel like sunlight, plus there's a lack of warmth in the air. You're forced to slowly blink your eyes open as your mind starts to wake itself up in the attempt to decipher what the light source is.

You turn in the bed, arm extended to reach for...

Cold sheets?

You crack one eye open to find the culprit behind the brightness: Cassandra's over on her writing desk, with the night lamp turned on as she types away on her laptop, occasionally turning to a book by her hand before turning back to her laptop.

You untangle yourself from the sheets before slowly getting up and walking over to where the theatre director is.

"Hey there."

The clicking of the keycaps stop as you place a soft kiss to the top of Cassandra's head, keeping a hand buried in her hair even when you've pulled away. She tilts her head up to meet your gaze, and a sheepish smile grazes her lips as you raise your eyebrows at her. A silent question of "What are you up to?" conveyed clearly enough by your expression.

Cassandra sighs, taking your free hand in her own and placing kisses on each of your knuckles. It puts a smile on your lips, it was a habit Cassandra has developed ever since the two of you had started officially dating which she does whenever you're in very close proximity and she's gathering the words in her head before letting them leave her lips.

"A rough script draft of the play that I'm thinking of bringing from pages to a theatre stage. For this incoming year I was thinking Frankenstein, The Shadow Over Innsmouth, or Faerie Tale- I'm thinking Innsmouth but I still have no idea how we'll be able to set the stage for the parts that require an oceanic backdrop.."

The Actress has looked back over to the book on the table and her eyes skim the pages with a very focused look in them which you would have found cute if not for the very dark bags underneath.

"Incoming year."

Cassandra looks back over to you with a raised brow. "Huh?" is the only sound that leaves her mouth. You shake your head in fondness, how she's both basically a genius and a dumbass all in one is something that will never cease to surprise you. She offers no complaints when you take your hand out of her hair and go about saving the file on her computer before shutting it down. The look you sent her when she tried to start complaining was enough to shut her up.

You take both her hands in yours, gently pulling her up from her seat before leading her back under the blankets. Cassandra settles into your arms, head tucked underneath your chin. The sigh of contentment she lets out results in a chuckle from you.

"Much better than hunching over a desk isn't it?"

There's a beat of silence before Cassandra begrudgingly agrees with a muffled "I guess so." that could've been mistaken as nothing more than a grumble. But you know better.

"Vacation's just ended, Cass. I know you're in love with the Theatrical Arts, but now's the time for you- For us to catch up on sleep and take the breaks that we deserve."

She places a kiss to your collarbone, agreeing with a hum before nuzzling back into her comfortable position being tucked underneath your chin.

"You've got a point that I refuse to argue, and that's coming from someone in pre-law so you know you've won big time."

You both laugh, and the air in her room is filled with the essence of comfort. There's no place you'd rather be and even if you can feel that sleep is starting to creep up on the both of you, you can't help but try your best to delay it in favor of hearing Cassandra's voice for just a little longer.

"How come The Shadow Over Innsmouth was your first choice?"

"Well, the book literally starts off from the point of view of this traveler in a bus who ends up in an almost-abandoned village off a coast. He's heard stories about his destination but he's also very skeptical cuz most of the rumors legitimately sound like the story-tellers are off their fucking rockers-"

Cassandra's words start to slow and slur, and you're having difficulty in stopping her words from blurring together.

There's faint traces of bright sunlight peeking through the curtains of Cassandra's room, but it bothers neither Juliet nor her Romeo as the two both start succumbing to the inescapable pull of sleep.

The only sound that can be heard within the room is the faint synchronisation of the lovebirds' breathing.

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶-----------------------

01-11: Cassandra fluff!! Cassandra fluff!! Cassandra fluff!! I still can't believe that this Campus heart throb has the "Tamest" cult ending possible.