#smash pass smash pass smash smash next question

[feshippingpolls]

Embla x Sombron x Grima x Loptous x Velezark x Audamorze

FE: Should they kiss?

Embla x Sombron x Grima x Loptous x Velezark x Audamorze

[smath-or-pass]

a klein bottle

[thatone-churro]

people hate playing smash or pass with me because i ignore the “if i wasn’t ace” concept and instead fully commit to the bit of insisting on passing on every option. i think it’s funny.

[sergeant-macho-nacho]

[weaselweaselweasel]

Heh… I really am a gamer…

By the way guys did anyone see the sexy marionette puppet thing and assume it was Jake who got hit by the nonbinarification ray or was it just me

Like it wasn’t even the name that made me think that I just assumed it for no reason 😞

[jogurtjoestar]

Smash next question

two men

[uss-butterscotch]

Eddie almost becomes a 4th of July finger loss statistic and runs into a pair of sailors in the ER

cw: medical terminology, references to canon-typical gore

-

Eddie can feel his uncle’s glare from the seat next to him. He’s resolutely ignoring it and also attempting to ignore the pulsing pain in his hand, which he’s currently pressing a damp kitchen towel to.

Wayne, apparently, isn’t having it. “You know how many people blow their fingers off on this day every year, boy?” He says slowly.

Eddie presses his lips together. When he can’t hold his thoughts back anymore he half-whispers, “Last time I checked, all my fingers were still attached to my body.”

“They better continue to be that way by tomorrow morning.” Wayne huffs and leans back in his chair. Arms crossed tight over his chest.

They sit in silence for about 5 minutes before the doors to the emergency room practically fly open. The sudden movement draws Eddie’s eye.

He’s met with possibly the last thing he expects. The first thing he registers is that two of the people who just entered appear to be dressed like cartoon sailors, and that one of the sailors also appears to have been recently hit by a car, then the car reversed, and ran him over again.

The second thing he realizes is that the roadkill sailor is the one and only Steve Harrington. Not only is he Steve Harrington, he’s Steve Harrington, clearly on drugs.

“Hopper, we told you,” Harrington attempts to sound convincing while teetering precariously with every step, “we feel fine. I don’t even think this is as bad as last time. Nobody even… smashed anything into my head.”

The other sailor, whom Eddie has just identified as Robin Buckley, band kid and on Eddie’s short list of suspected fellow freaks.

“Nope!” Robin giggles, “just ripped a few fingernails out.” She wiggles her own fingers in front of Hopper’s face, which at the moment is locked in a simultaneously horrified and exasperated expression.

Now that attention has been called to it, and all of Robin’s fingers seem intact, Eddie sneaks a glance at Harrington’s hands, the left one of which appears to have bandages that are becoming soaked through with blood on the index and middle fingers.

“Maybe nothing got smashed into you, but Wheeler mentioned something about you smashing a certain commandeered vehicle into a certain Camaro.” Hopper leans in and speaks in a growl Eddie assumes he thinks passes for whispering, while directing Harrington and Buckley into matching plastic chairs to the one Eddie is currently occupying.

He gapes at them and blinks a few times before turning to see what his uncle thinks of this whole scene. He finds Wayne watching the newcomers with a slight squint to his eyes and a slight raise to his right eyebrow. A clear sign that he is equal parts concerned, Eddie would assume for the obvious poor condition of at least one of the teens, and intrigued, but not intrigued enough to risk intervening and complicating his already very mentally taxing evening.

Before he can do anything about any part of this scenario, a nurse calls Eddie’s name and in a blink he’s being led into the next stage of the hell of his own making. At first it’s several minutes of answering questions, nurses looking very intently at the half burn/half gash in his hand, and antiseptic. Finally he’s left alone for a few moments while they let the topical numbing cream set in.

There are two other beds in the section he’s been taken to. One of them is currently occupied by an older man, accompanied by a younger woman in a plastic chair next to him. Both of them appear to be fast asleep. The other bed is empty. Or at least, it is until there’s a commotion from the hallway, and the sailors are being ushered in Eddies direction, toward the bed next to his. Eddie catches bits of the conversation that leads to the two-high-teenagers-for-one deal he’s about to get.

Robin’s almost frantic voice, “No! They can’t separate us! Last time we got split up-“

“It’ll be fine, Rob, these guys are probably American.” Steve cuts her off nonsensically. Eddie kind of wishes he was on whatever stuff Steve was right now.

“Considering what you’ve tried to explain so far, I don’t know how much better that is.” Robin says, giggling again.

Steve clumsily grabs her hand with his right one, reaching across is own body awkwardly to get to her, and missing on the first attempt. “You also need to get looked at, little miss ‘ask me tomorrow’.”

Robin cringes at him, “Ok now I will leave you alone so you don’t call me ‘little miss’ again.”

Eddie watches the nurses lead Robin further down the hallway, and Steve to the bed next to his own. They’re left alone briefly after Steve gets settled and the nurse has rushed off to find a doctor.

The other teen stares almost blankly at him for a long moment before he exclaims suddenly, startling Eddie, “Munson! From Biology! That’s why you seem familiar.”

“Harrington,” Eddie replies, “you are aware we shared more classes than the one Biology period, right?”

Harrington blinks slowly with the eye that isn’t swollen shut. “No, actually, I dunno if you noticed, but I was sort of an asshole in high school, so…” he wobbles his head back and forth, “I kind of only remember that time you passed out when we dissected that cow eye.”

“Ah,” Eddie rolls his eyes and nods, “so you were an asshole in high school, but you’re not anymore. Got it.” He’s really going over the top with the sarcasm, but Harrington doesn’t seem to catch on.

“Yup. Earlier Robin said that I really was, but I’m not anymore, and she’s usually right about most things, even though it’s super annoying when she is right, because she won’t shut up about it, and she remembers stuff, like how many times I’m wrong and what I’m wrong about and what I ate for breakfast in Mrs. Click’s class and-“

He’s cut off by the nurse from before returning. “Sorry for making you wait, hon, it’s a real circus here tonight. While we wait for the doctor, I’m gonna get you set up with some fluids. The EMTs said you were pretty dehydrated.”

When she brandishes the needle in preparation for placing the IV, Eddie notices all the color that isn’t bruising drain from Harrington’s face. He tries to subtly scoot away from her, but the movement is a little too rushed to come from anywhere but a sense of panic.

“O-oh, no that’s, I’m okay, no-no thanks.” He stutters out, his breath coming in quick and shallow now.

“Oh, hon, it’s okay to be afraid of needles,” the nurse says sweetly, “just look away and take deep breaths, and it’ll be over in a pinch.”

Harrington winces at that. “I-I’m really- it’s- I’m fine, you don’t-“

He stops abruptly when what sounds like a screamed “No!”echoes from down the hallway. It takes half a second longer for Eddie to place the voice as Robin Buckley’s than it apparently takes Steve, because Eddie blinks and Harrington’s off the bed and rushing toward the voice with a half-shouted “Robin!”

The nurse, it seems, is just as stunned as Eddie, and it’s a few seconds before she’s racing after him down the hallway.

It isn’t until his stitches are almost halfway done that Harrington returns, now closely followed by Chief Hopper, and lead gingerly by the elbow by the nurse. The IV situation appears to have been solved, as he is now rolling a drip bag on a stand with his free hand.

Once Harrington is returned to his bed, Hopper leans over him slightly in what Eddie recognizes as his attempt to be intimidating. “Now listen closely, Harrington. You are going to stay right there in this bed, and do whatever Annette here asks you to do until I get back. Do I make myself clear?”

Steve stares at him open mouthed for a moment, before he starts giggling. “Huh, Mike’s right, you do have a little vein that pops out right…” he reaches up to try and poke Hopper in the forehead.

Before Hopper smacks his hand away, Eddie notices a thick band of bruising around Harrington’s wrist, adding to the already massive pile of questions he has about whatever series of events led to those two landing themselves here.

Steve is still giggling when Hopper stands back up, dragging a hand down his face. “Look. Just stay put for 20 minutes. Someone still has to call your damn parents.”

“Good luck with that,” Harrington says wearily to Hopper’s back as he retreats back toward the waiting room.

With all the commotion, Eddie almost forgets he’s currently getting his hand sewn back together. A distraction he’s secretly grateful for, since he was starting to get a little light headed thinking about it.

“Well, Eddie, that should be it,” the doctor says, patting the fresh bandage gently, “I’ll get someone to take care of your discharge papers and you’ll be on your way.”

Eddie gives a thumbs up with the hand that did not get nearly exploded several hours ago. As the doctor leaves, Eddie realizes he is once again left alone with Harrington. He can only handle about two minutes of the silence before he blurts out. “Ok, man, I’m dying to know. What the hell happened to you? You look like you rolled down a rocky cliffside for like a day straight.”

Harrington chuckles, “I feel like that.” He doesn’t say anything for a long moment before he apparently realizes Eddie asked him a question. “Oh, uh, the mall burned down.”

“Starcourt? The brand new mall?”

Harrington nods. “Yup.” He pops the p.

“Wh-” Eddie blinks at him in disbelief, “and you and Buckley..?”

“We were there, yeah.” He says it so nonchalantly Eddie almost thinks he’s messing with him.

“Right…” Eddie starts, not sure where he’s going before one of the questions swirling around his brain tumbles out of his mouth “so the mall was burning down and someone ripped your finger nails off?”

Harrington sits up straight, “How did you-?”

“I was in the waiting room when you came in,” Eddie answers in a rush, “overheard you and Buckley.”

“Oh.” Harrington says, then blinks slowly a few times and Eddie can almost hear him thinking. “Umm, no that happened… before the fire.” He finally says, frustratingly vague.

“Right, and the…” Eddie gestures vaguely to his own face in leu of actually asking.

Harrington hums. “Uhh, I think… falling debris…” he nods to himself, “yeah, you know, chunks of burning mall.” He mimes something falling from the sky and makes a cartoon explosion sound. Eddie’s not totally inclined to believe him, especially since he just noticed the finger shaped bruising on Harringtons arms.

“You think?” He presses.

Harrington huffs, almost like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Look man, I’m like super ultra concussed and on some kind of mystery drugs so my memory is like…” he flaps a hand around for a second, then lands on a thumbs down, “at the moment.”

Eddie nods. “Right, yeah, sorry.” Eddie puts his uninjured hand up in surrender, “Just, my curious nature, man.”

Steve shrugs, then winces. “Okay, my turn.” He points to Eddie’s bandaged hand, “What happened there?”

“Awesome firework experiment gone wrong.” Eddie says, deliberately not elaborating. It’s apparently enough for Steve who nods knowingly.

Another silence settles over the room, this time less awkward, but Eddie still feels the need to break it. “Okay this is my last question for real.” Harrington sighs, but motions for him to go on. “The outfit?”

He squints at Eddie for a moment. “Did you ever like, actually go to the mall?”

“Once. And it confirmed my suspicions that the whole thing was a capitalist nightmare that I in no way belonged within a thousand foot radius of.” Eddie proclaiming proudly.

Steve looked at him like he was speaking Spanish. “Um, sure. Yeah. That’s probably true.” He picks at some of the blood that has dried on the collar of his shirt. “Robin and I work, or, I guess worked, now that it doesn’t exist anymore, but, anyway it’s this ice cream place, and it’s like, ocean themed for some reason, so… sailors.”

The mood seems to have shifted slightly. Harrington’s no longer looking at him, instead focusing on his shoes, which also appear to be smudged with blood. No trace of the half smile that had been lingering from his random fits of giggles. With the way he’s fidgeting, it almost seems like he’s nervous.

Eddie decides the best way out of this is to pretend like he doesn’t notice and hope he can get the vibe back on track. “That sounds like the most ridiculous business I’ve ever heard of.”

Steve lets out a halfhearted chuckle. “Yeah, it was pretty stupid.”

They are both saved from trying to come up with a new direction for the conversation to go by the entrance of Robin Buckley, who is toting her own rolling stand of IV fluid with her.

“Dingus!” She calls, and Eddie notes the way Harrington relaxes slightly at seeing her. “I’m completely healthy!”

Steve mimes clapping and Robin bows dramatically. “I… am not.”

Robin taps his knee. “I could have probably told you that.” Her gaze scans the room, then catches on him. “Hey, you’re the guy that runs the D&D group, right?”

“In the flesh,” Eddie says, spreading his arms wide.

Robin cringes again. “Ew, don’t say flesh. I’ve had too much flesh for one day.”

Steve nods next to her. “He blew up his hand with fireworks.”

Robin gasps, “Really?” She turns to Steve, “I totally thought we were gonna do that, but” she holds out her hands, and while they themselves seem fine, Eddie notices the bruising on her wrists that match Harrington’s, “all my fingers. Intact.”

“That makes one of us,” he smirks and makes eye contact with Eddie.

“Did you know that on the Fourth of July, over 30% of hospital visits are related to injuries from fireworks” Robin says unprompted.

“Why would I know that.” Steve says flatly, “Why do you know that?”

Robin shrugs, “I read.”

It’s then that a nurse comes back to get Eddie out of there. As he goes, Steve waves a goodbye to him that he awkwardly returns. As he leaves them behind he hears Robin ask, “Did Johnathan Byers cut open a girl’s leg, or was that the drugs?”

He shakes his head as he returns to the waiting room, resigned to never have answers to his mountain of questions.

[absinthehyuk]

like a part 2 where the reader just keeps on acting nonchalant like nothing happened and wonwoo gets more and more riled up. cause “why am i the only one going insane here” type of feelings. and he just ends up taking here in a dressing room or something cause damn they need to fuck

she’ll ride the dick like a carnival

pairing. idol! wonwoo + new staff! fem reader!

summary. since that one fateful night at his apartment, jeon wonwoo realizes that he is fucked. but not really, since he can’t seem to get you in his bed.

warnings. [PLEASE READ] dom/sub dynamics, slight dom wonwoo, dirty talk, use of nicknames, THICK dick and lowkey desperate wonu, reader is VERY nonchalant, implied mirror sex, riding, wonu almost cries… AGAIN, sloppy kisses on the tits, subtle jizz play — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. desperate sex that turns steamy and passionate is my favorite genre holy shit 😭 first time answering an ask! hope you like it :)

find part 1 here

jeon wonwoo could only watch you from across the waiting room as you pranced around in a midi skirt, chatting happily with the staff.

he wanted to cuss you out.

shifting in his chair, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, angrily sniffing.

how could you act like this?

how were you so nonchalant? so unbothered about the fact that you had him seeing stars merely 72 hours ago?

it had been 3 days since you had sucked the soul out of his body. 3 days since he couldn’t stop rutting his cock into his fist to the thoughts of you. 3 days since he had become insane.

he tried to get your attention, he really did. the poor boy would keep trying to pry anything out of your mouth that gave him a hint about your feelings.

but you were unpredictable, just as he had thought.

your face was like a wall — completely emotionless. any thought that passed through your head could barely be understood and wonwoo wanted to smash his head into the concrete at that realization.

“jeez, what’s got you this tense?” mingyu sits down next to him, adjusting his costume as he stared at his best friend. “i’m just… worried about the performance, nothing else.”

mingyu knew that wonwoo was lying.

hell, even wonwoo knew he was lying.

but none of them seemed to question each other as they sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

“wonwoo-ssi?” your voice called out to him. the boy singled out you and your sound amid nearly 50 people in the room, surprisingly springing to his feet as he walked towards you.

“your outfit is ready, follow me.”

the man silently walked behind you, striding toward the secluded attached room in the corner.

he pulled the curtain and stepped inside, and he was immediately handed his clothes. the outfit was simple— a sleeveless shirt and some baggy white jeans.

“i’ll be outside,” you nodded, bidding him farewell as you pulled the curtain.

sighing, wonwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror. his hardened cock stared at him in the face— a haunting image of the effect you had on him.

how am i the only one who is this riled up? he wondered. i can’t be the only one… right?

he wasn’t.

you would be lying if you said your panties weren’t glued to your core since you walked in. the sight of him had your head spinning, wanting nothing more than to strip him down and pull his dick into your throat.

but of course, you were not some depraved whore.

you set boundaries after that night. he was your client, and you were his stylist. of course you weren’t supposed to suck him off!

the fitting next morning after the incident had made you lose your self control. you recall how you had to get yourself off in the bathroom, relishing in the thoughts of seeing wonwoo in a tight fitted suit.

but of course, you would never voice these thoughts out loud. being in the same room as him was punishment enough to remind you of your sins. you wondered if applying for a styling job for a different member would work—

“uh?” wonwoo’s deep voice cut off your lewd thoughts, making you shake your head to clear them out. “a little help?”

“you good?" you sighed. “i’m coming in,” sucking in a breath as you stepped inside the small box.

wonwoo was leaning against one of the mirrored walls, one leg up on a stool in the corner. “what’s wrong?” you searched for a solution in his face.

“i seem to be stuck in a seemingly hard situation.”

one look down to his hands, you immediately realized the problem.

wonwoo’s dick was hard, the bulge over his boxers made that evident. the problem? the sheer size of his chub was not allowing the zipper of his jeans to zip up.

the man had a small waist but also had weirdly broad hips. his pants always had to be altered so that they suited his body type.

however, this was a problem that no other stylist had ever had to deal with.

“what do i do?” wonwoo whined, pouting his lips as he pushed up his glasses.

“wonwoo-ssi,” you spoke. your voice remained surprisingly stable, despite the fact that you could feel your pussy pulsating.

“i think you need to solve this problem on your own,” you looked into his eyes, almost feeling bad at how he panted.

however, before you could turn around and leave, wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and caged you between his arms.

your back hit one of the mirrored walls, as a surprised gasp fumbled from your mouth.

“wonw—”

“for the love of god woman, do you not see what you do to me?”

the desperation in his voice made your knees buckle as you stared into his eyes, gaze alternating to his lips as he bit them.

wonwoo heaved as he inched closer towards your face. “give me one good reason why you shouldn’t take care of my problem. you’re the one that caused it after all.”

hearing him voice out his thoughts, you turned your head to the side, embarrassed by the effect his voice had on you. how was this even your fault—

but with a harsh grip, jeon wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing to you look at him.

“can’t think of anything can you?” his head dipped down, tracing his teeth along your neck. the sensation made you hiss silently. “help me, please. what would carat think if i went out on stage looking like this?”

“sit,” is all you managed to say, voice enamoured with need.

you all but pushed wonwoo onto the iron stool in the corner, hauling yourself onto his lap as you crashed your lips into his.

fuck, your lips were way better than he had ever imagined. they were soft and pillowy as they engulfed his mouth, tongue grazing against his own as you ground down on his crotch.

wonwoo’s free hand pushed your head impossibly close as he licked into your mouth, wanting to memorize every crevice.

spit dribbles from your connected mouths, sloppy and wet kisses sounding obscenely loud in the secluded area. the man does not care that drool is now staining his tank top. he could never get enough of this.

his other hand gripped tightly onto your ass, groping and fondling the fat. after a second, he pulled away from you, glasses foggy and lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“shit baby, i can’t take it anymore,” he whisper-screamed, tears coating his lashes. you wished you could burn this image into your head for the rest of your life.

you could only nod, ready to sink to your knees before wonwoo stopped you, tutting. “pull your panties to the side, doll,” he commanded, chest heaving.

the change in his tone had your thighs tingling. you pulled your midi skirt up, tucking the ends into the hem as you exposed yourself.

at the sight of your baby blue cotton panties, jeon wonwoo nearly growled.

the material was thoroughly soaked and ruined, a deep blue patch staining the cloth. as you pulled them to the side, he noticed how slicked up your heat was, a string of arousal connected your folds to the cotton.

you gripped onto his shoulders for support in your half-sitting position as he glided two fingers against your folds.

“so wet for me already, huh? don’t even need to work you up for my cock,” he smacked his lips. “filthy girl.”

wonwoo strained his ears to listen for any footsteps near the area as he sucked his dampened fingers into his mouth. your taste was making him dizzy, breath faltering as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

without wasting any more time, you pulled his cock out of its confines, sliding his boxers down just enough to free his length.

the sight of him always made you salivate. however, it was clear that he didn’t want that happening today.

steadily, you positioned yourself over him, hovering before you finally pushed his fat tip in.

the sensation had you moaning out loud— before he slapped his hand over your mouth. “shh! don’t be so loud baby, they will hear us,” he cooed.

you nodded frantically, slowly inching downwards as his dick began to fill you up. once he was bottomed out, you couldn’t help but sob into his palm.

“i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” he smirked, shushing you with sweet words as he let you adjust to his size.

wonwoo’s thick dick was buried up to your hilt, and you felt so incredibly full. your poor walls clenched around his cock, nearly making him bust.

without a word, the man beneath you grabbed at your waist, moving you up and down on his length, slowly. with him pistoning in and out of you, you could feel your senses going into overdrive.

wonwoo tugged your top down with his teeth, suckling along the valley of your breasts to keep himself quiet. your pussy felt incredibly tight, creaming him for all he was worth.

his strong arms continued to guide you, until your legs automatically adjusted to the pace. your body began to move on its own accord— tits jiggling in wonwoo's mouth with each bounce.

"f-fuck!" you whimpered, beginning to lose your mind. for a moment, he looks up at you through his glasses, smiling widely from between your breasts.

the bastard's cheeky grin has you forgetting your own name as he lapped his tongue around your skin like he fucking owned it.

"already going dumb on my cock? shi— you ride so well baby."

your bounces show him just how stretched you were, making wonwoo's stomach clench as he split you apart. you tease him a little by slowing down, grinding down on him as he bites his lips and throws his head back.

as his hands grab onto your cheeks to spread them, he accidentally catches a glimpse of your back in the mirror opposite to you two.

god, you looked so fucking hot.

without knowing why, you felt him twitch inside. "not gonna— oh shit! — last very long now baby."

at the sound of his confession, you bring a hand down to rub at your clit. taking the hint, he begins to rut back into you, using all his strength to fuck into your heat.

"p—please wonwoo hah! cum inside, please please please,"

you're not sure why you beg, but you're too cock drunk to process anything but the fact that you want him filling you up, stuffing your cunt full with his release.

"you su— fuck fuck fuck—" wonwoo whispers, biting down on your right tit to subdue the moan that was about to leave his throat.

with that and a grunt, he cums inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. his length twitches inside you, shooting out excess spurts. feeling himself soften, wonwoo pulls out of you. you whine at the sudden sensation of feeling so empty.

the boy stays mesmerized at the way your cum mixes together, escaping your spent hole in small globs.

as a pathetic attempt, he uses two fingers to plug the release back inside you, making you whimper again at the sudden intrusion. "sorry," he apologizes, before placing your panties back where they belonged.

with a fluid motion, jeon wonwoo tucks himself back into his calvin klein boxers and then zipping his pants up, meeting your dazed eyes with another cute smile. "see? it fits now."

you can’t help but smile back at him, panting to catch your breath.

your thighs hurt from the awkward position, but you were sure that you would never have it any other way.

so, that's how you end up walking around the rest of the working day— wonwoo's cum safely filled up inside you, as you and him exchanged comically wide-eyed looks every few minutes, a shade of pink grazing your cheeks.

© absinthehyuk, 2024.

[eeboyysworld]

“Life’s a gamble.”

—⋆. 𐙚⋆.˚

Genre: smut

Recruiter x Male!Reader

Contains/Warnings: oral fixation , oral sex , seduction , knife play , cross dressing , bottom!reader .

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Gi-hun, the man you once called a best friend.Definitely not anymore.

The way the white plushy dress hugged your body was a constant reminder of what you had intentionally agreed to.

The way the white plushy dress hugged your body was a constant reminder of what you had intentionally agreed to.

Why were you here in the first place, sitting pretty upon a bench, legs crossed , wind making the bottom of the dress puff up daring anyone to take a peak underneath.

Well..-

“No way in hell!” Shaking your head as fast as you can possibly do, hands moving with you as your face smeared into a snarl.

Sitting across from you was a man, head in his hands, tan skin and bright red hair, easily noticed. “Please..i wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.”

The tone of his voice was desperate , mixed with unusual fear.But, yet his eyes held an intensity, confident swirled inside them. Tone and eyes different from each other.

“ You want me to seduce a random man..” eye brows raised as you spoke with question, “- do you know how crazy that looks and sounds?!”

Sighing, the other didn’t speak for moments.Before standing up, briefcase suddenly in hand, the case smashing onto the wooden table placed Infront of you.

Dollar bills wrapped in bands was placed before you, the bright green was contrast next to the broken down table it sat on.

“Take it all.” Was he serious.Your face shocked, mouth open slightly, ‘ with this money I can pay more than just my rent..’ taking your eyes off the prize , locking eyes with the man. Motioning him on to continue his plea.

“Just..do this for me , please..?”

Was it the money that got you to do this , or was it your dearest friend seeking out for you in his desperate state. Possibly both.

Applying a random lipgloss, coating your lips in strawberry gloss, trying the best to look girly.

You had been here for at-least 10 minutes, waiting for the mysterious man in a suit.

You had gotten restless at this point, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

Before a voice call out to you “Ma’am?” perking up as you fix posture.

Tilting your head sideways, eyeing the man dressed in grey, hair elegantly combed back. A briefcase sat in the empty spot between you two. “ Care to play a game?”

This had to be the guy gi-hun was searching for.

Batting your eyes at him, smiling you responded. “I’ll do anything as long as you’re here.” Your hands daring to reach onto his thigh before you can think rationally.

He looked surprised, sure, he had more than a few girls alike hit on him. He kept those encounters professional, but you.. you were different than the other low life’s.

Silence passed on, feeling ashamed of yourself as seconds burned, hand slowly trying to ease away from the other.

In a fast motion, the man’s hand held onto your wrist. Lips quirked into a grin, “ You’re playing dangerous here.”

You sat there for a second too long, you didn’t expect him to play along. Snapping out of it, you couldn’t lose him now that you got him.

“We all need danger in our lives..” tongue licking across your bottom lip , exaggerating your lips to shine even more. Taking his hand into yours, intertwining together.

The man’s eyes had a glint in them, like he was pulling back his true intentions behind a facade.

“ A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out here alone.” Making eye contact as his finger trailed to your jaw. “- never know what could be lurking in the darkness..”

Heat pooled in your stomach, bringing your legs tighter together.

Pouting , remaining the act you put on despite your own nervousness. “Would you be the one lurking?” As your hand fell to your sides, his own gone before it leached on your bare thigh, the skirt ridding up, showing off the smooth skin.

Cold fingers massaging into you, his face still held onto that smirk. “ I’ll be worse than that.”

Urging yourself to lean towards him, as your lips grazed his ear , whispering your own thoughts.

“Give me the worst.”

Before you could think strategically, your own mind applying images of the possibility’s of what could happen once you allowed yourself in the other’s presence.

You found yourself sat on a cold marble counter, the man’s expensive cologne invading you, clouding any sense that can come out.

Fingers pressed into your skin, the hand making its way up, bringing it closer and closer to the truth. You weren’t a girl.

This wasn’t in the plan you and the red head had agreed to.You weren’t supposed to go to the man’s house, all you had to do was get his number.

But .. the charming guy lead you into his arms , whispering of how much fun you guys can have. How could you not melt into his embrace.

The Lacy panty’s you had on wore a wet dot, Pre-cum leaking onto the pretty pink fabric.

Warm hands hooked onto the top, yanking it down, watching as the fabric fell on the ground.

Biting down your lip, the skin chipping from the force you held on it. What will he do once he found out you were a boy.

“Oh..” his eye brows raised slightly, looking down before finding your face again. “ Full of surprises aren’t you?”

A huff left him, his mouth working its way in you, as your tongues fought for dominance.

Whimpers leaving you as he gripped your hardness, saliva linking as he pulled away, “Good thing i love surprises..”

Yanking you slightly up with your length, shriek escaping you.

The feeling of a sharp knife found itself resting on your cheek, sliding it into your skin, leaving a tiny cut that bleed.

The blade dragging it’s up to your throat. Pressing down , enough to make you regret your decision.

“ You’ll do what i say?” The cold metal pressing into you, nodding softly, answering, “Everything.”

Leaving the blade next to you, smiling at you, eyes eating the image of you.

Cooing at you, “ Got all dressed up for me..” his fingers playing with your tip, smearing itself with your mess.

The finger coated with you, bringing it to his lips.

Popping it into his mouth, you could only watch as the man indulged himself. The sound of spit as he slowly took his finger out his mouth. “Let’s hope you don’t break on me doll.”

He teased you on, frustrated as you pouted, your cock throbbed as it was battered with teasing touches.

You were used to the teasing that it was unexpected as he suddenly jerked you, the pace getting faster and faster.

Pleasure shot through you, your own fingers went to your mouth on instinct, sucking on yourself, muffling your words, “S-stop.. teasi..ing!”

Arching off the counter, clenching around nothing , “Me teasing?.. you’re the one walking around in short dresses.”

The ache in you surrounded your entire body, his hand skillfully bringing you undone.

Slobber dripped down your fingers,throwing your neck back , baring it open.

Teeth latching itself on you, biting down before sucking. As the others hand continued to simulate you.

Moans echoed around the room, twitching in his warm hand you felt yourself coming undone.

Coating yourself in his palm, the mess dripping down to the floor, ruining the white dress you wore.

It wasn’t even a minute before his hand began working you to hardness again. “A-ah.!”

“I want you to feel yourself while you suck me off.” He said it so casually, overstimulated you nod shakily.

Bare knees hit the floor, mouth wide open for him. Trying to get comfortable seemed impossible as the floor kept grazing your hard on.

The blade found itself tracing your jaw, leaving behind red marks as blood oozed out.

His heavy length nestled in you, giving it little licks, his groans urged you on. Engulfing yourself on his hard on.

The knife dropped to the ground beside you, barely missing you. His hands griping your hair, forcing you onto him. Making you grind into the floor.

Gagging, he continued to thrust in and out, the sound of wetness left you embarrassed.

“Gonna paint you with my mess-“ picking up the pace.”- look so beautiful with it.”

His scent left you dizzy, holding onto his clothed thighs to hold yourself.Swallowing around him , clenching your mouth.

Your saliva making it easy to fuck your face.Your moans vibrated around him, twitching inside you.

No warnings as he pulled out, the sound popping off as you close your eyes. The stickiness dripped down your body, ultimately ruining the pretty dress.

Coming down his high , tucking himself in his pants, leaning downward to your height.

He watched as you wipe yourself clean, licking away the saltiness on your mouth.

“Now.. care to tell me why you were trying to seduce me?”

Shit.. you are fucked.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

A/N: he’s too fine for this world

[hyunjincanraptoo]

Skittle game- L.FX

Requested by anon. This is from my prompt list. It's my first time writing for Lix so please be gentle 🥺 will try to post one more prompt tonight

14. Skittle game (adult version)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: smut, fwb to lovers, contains a funny epilogue 

Alexa, play Señorita by Shawn Mendes & Camila Cabello

The party was over. There were left only empty bottles on the table and music humming low from a now forgotten playlist, and the room smelled like beer and detergent. You were the only one left with feet bare, sleeves pushed up, scraping crumbs off the counter while Felix watched you from the couch.

He was slouched deep into the couch, his shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of skin above his waistband. His eyes were heavy, but still watching you, “You don’t have to clean”,  he murmured, voice deep as usual, “You’re not my girlfriend”.

You glanced back, smirking, “Good thing. I’d be a terrible one”. 

Felix just grinned, “You’d ruin me if you were”. 

Your skin tingled with it but you’ve danced around this too many times to let it get to your head. You rolled your eyes and tossed the last napkin into the trash.

“Want me to do what instead of cleaning?”

 “Want you to sit your pretty ass down and play a game with me”, he said, holding up a nearly empty bag of Skittles.

You raised a brow, “Skittle game. Seriously?”

He shrugged, “C’mon. Adult version. One round.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to. Damn, you always want to when it comes to Felix. But because these nights had a habit of turning into something more— almost everytime.

Still, you walked over and sat beside him, thigh pressed to his,  “Fine. Let's do it”

He shook the bag, grinning like a devil, “Pick one, make a question”

You drew first.

Orange.

You popped it into your mouth, let it melt a little on your tongue, then glanced at him,“Smash or pass?”

Felix huffed, “That’s not funny. We’ve already smashed”

“Doesn’t mean you won't pass next time”

His eyes darkened, “I won't”

“Someone is confident tonight”

“I’m always confident”

He leaned in then, mouth inches from yours, like he was daring you to kiss him first. You didn’t, you just drew another Skittle.

Red.

You smiled, “Kiss me anywhere but the lips”

His grin faltered for a second, replaced by something slower, still teasingly enough.

“Anywhere, huh?”

You nodded once.

Felix shifted closer, fingers brushing your knee before sliding up, like he was testing your patience. Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to your neck, just below the ear, where you could feel your pulse racing.

“You smell so sweet”, he murmured, breath hot against your jaw, “Always do after we fuck”

Your stomach flipped. You looked at him, but he was already pushing the Skittle bag toward you.

Yellow.

“Confess something that would ruin our friendship”, you said,  “I mean…. the benefits of our friendship”

He didn’t even blink as he answered.

“I want you to be mine only”

The air between you gets heavy.

You shift in your seat, pressing your thighs together instinctively, “Felix… ”

“You said ‘confess’, I’m just being honest”

You grabbed the bag again, drawing another candy.

Green.

You lick your lips, “Touch me for five seconds. Anywhere”

He didn’t think twice. His hand slid between your legs,beneath your dress, fingers reaching the lace fabric of your panties, pressing just hard enough to make your breath shorten. He counted out loud, low, with a smirk on his face

“One… two… three…”

You were already squirming

“Four…”

His thumb circled your clit once.

“Five”

Then he pulled away like nothing happened, licking sugar off his knuckle.

You glared at him, “Asshole”

He laughed, eyes shining, “Don’t lie to yourself, you love it”

Then it was his turn.

Purple.

“Ask me something you wouldn’t if we were sober”, he said

You hesitated

“Did you ever come thinking about me before we started hooking up?”

His smirk faded. Felix shifted in his seat, “You mean when I tried to pretend I didn’t want you every time you walked in wearing those tiny little skirts of yours? Yeah, I did”

Your soul almost left your body.

He watched you for a beat longer, then picked the last Skittle from the bag.

Red. Again.

“No repeats”, you murmured

“Who said I’m repeating?”

He leaned forward. Fingers curling around the back of your neck and pulled you into his lap like it was instinct. Like it had always been this easy to ruin you.

His lips brushed your ear.

“This time, I’m kissing you here”, he whispered, mouth ghosting over your chest, just above your heart before taking your lips on his

You were already grinding against him, desperate and warm, too aware of how good he felt under you. Too used to this yet never tired.

Then you slid off his lap, sank to your knees between his legs like muscle memory.

“You won again”, you said, smugly.

Felix groaned when your fingers hooked on his waistband, his head dropping back.

“Fuck. You’re really gonna…?”

But the sentence died the moment your tongue touched him.

You’d done this before— too many times— but never like this. Never this intentional.

His hands gripped your hair, breath catching every time you swallowed around him, every time you hummed and let your tongue trace patterns he never knew he needed.

And when you glanced up at him with big eyes, mouth full, he choked on your name.

“This… fuck… this isn’t just a game anymore”

You pulled back just enough to murmur, “Did it ever feel like one?”

He stared at you. And you saw it, right there in his eyes— something wild. Something like a mix of desire with euphoria.

You took him deeper, and Felix could swear he wasn’t seeing just stars but a whole galaxy. You were there on your knees warm and wet and so into it, and all he could do was sit there with his head thrown back, fists clenched in your hair, making the kind of noises he swore he didn’t make.

“Fuck… angel, wait…”

You hummed around him,the  vibration making  him twitch in your mouth.

“Holy shit… don’t do that….”

You pulled off with a loud pop, blinking up at him, faking innocence, “Don’t do what?”

“That”, he panted, pointing at you like you’d committed a crime, “That… thing. With your tongue. Shit… I literally almost fell in love with you just now”

You paralysed

He paralysed too.

“You what?!”

Felix’s eyes went comically wide, “I… I didn’t mean… I meant like… figuratively, like…”

You raised a brow, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, still on your knees, “Felix”

“Okay, technically I am already in love with you”, he blurted, entire face turning red, “But I was gonna wait until like… after. Or during cuddling. Or maybe never? But then you started humming and I just… I panicked. My brain was like, ‘tell her right now or you’ll die’ ”

You stared at him, still holding his dick.

He stared back, mortified.

“…Can I finish first?”, you asked, poker faced

Felix wheezed, covering his face with both hands, “Please, God, yes. But like, just pretend I didn’t say anything yet”

You grinned, leaning back in, “Oh, I’m definitely gonna pretend”

Just like that, your mouth was back on him, and all Felix could do was grab a pillow, muffle a very real sob, and think ‘I love her so much it’s disgusting’.

The pressure built in him, every movement of your lips pushing him closer to the edge. His fingers tightened around the pillow, his breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps, but nothing prepared him for the moment when he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

He pulled you closer by the hair, urging you on as his body stiffened with the release, a broken gasp escaping him. A shudder ran through him as he came undone, the pleasure almost overwhelming in its intensity.

He fought to keep his eyes on you, watching the way you took him in, and the sight alone was enough to make his heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the physical sensation.

Felix’s body trembled beneath you, a mix of pleasure and raw emotion flooding through him. "I can't stop…", he gasped, voice cracked and shaky, but the overwhelming sense of vulnerability felt too real to ignore.

When he was done cleaning himself, Felix pulled you to his lap. His hands were holding on your waist like he was afraid you’d run away. 

The air was thick with something neither of you felt before.

You rested your forehead against his, your breath still uneven from what everything just had happened, “You really said it mid blowjob, huh”

Felix groanned, “I panicked”

You laughed, but it faded fast. Because you felt what he meant. Not just the words but also the weight of them. Like he’d been carrying this for a while. And suddenly, you didn’t know what to think anymore.

It wasn’t just fuck buddies anymore. Not just games and teasing.

Your fingers trailed up the side of his neck, settling in his long blonde hair, “How long?”

He swallowed without looking at you, “Few weeks. Maybe longer. I kept trying to stop. Kept saying it was just sex”

“But it’s not”

He finally met your eyes,  “It hasn’t been for me in a while”

The silence that followed felt fragile.

“I don’t know what to do with that”, you whispered.

“I don’t either”, he admitted, “But I’d rather be honest and ruin it than lie and lose you anyway”

You blinked, chest aching, “Lix…”

He shook his head quickly, “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t say it so you’d fix it. I just fell in love with you while watching you eat cereal in my shirt and talk shit about my taste in movies. I knew I was doomed”

You pressed your lips to his tenderly, a little sad.

It tasted like goodbye or maybe a beginning.

He kissed you back like he was memorizing the taste of your lips. Like if it was the last time.

When you pulled back, your nose brushed his. Then, you asked, “What do we do now?”

Felix exhaled, still holding you like he was scared you’d vanish. But then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your jaw, then to your cheek, then the tip of your nose.

And he said, “We stop pretending. And we figure it out”

“And if we mess it up?”

He smiled, genuine, “Then we try again. And again. As many times as it takes. I won’t let you go, Yn”

Your throat tightened. Your hands slid to his cheeks, and you kissed, deeply and passionate.

When you pulled back, you whispered, “Okay. Let’s do it. Together”

“Okay”, he nodded, smiling, “Us. For real this time”

You both enjoyed the comfortable silence for a moment. Still tangled up in each other but no longer hiding behind rules or teasing or the label of ‘just friends’.

It wasn’t perfect. But it was real.

And real was enough for you. The both of you.

…

Epilogue:

You were brushing your teeth when Felix walked into the bathroom, hair a mess, sleepy eyes.

He blinked at you through the mirror, “…Are you using my toothbrush again?”

You glance over,mouth full of minty foam, “You already kissed me after I had your dick in my mouth. I think we’re past toothbrush boundaries”

He groaned, rubbing his face with both hands, “I hate how valid that is”

You spat, then wiped your mouth, and leaned against the counter, watching him lazily grab his own brush looking at it with disgust but strangely not actually feeling it

“I’m making cereal for breakfast”, you said, “The good kind. With cinnamon crunch rolls”

He grinned around the toothbrush, “You’re literally the love of my life”

You smiled at him and said, not being flirty this time, “Yeah, I know. You’re mine too”

Taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep , @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa , @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin

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[etherealrin]

okokokokok, OKAY. so.

i feel terrible as a moot to send in a request, buuuttt.... how would the blue lock men be with their daughter's first boyfriend?

specifically rin, sae, nagi, and kaiser!

please don't pressure yourself! take your time😊

⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ who's that boy?

how the blue lock men react to their daughter's first!boyfriend ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, and michael kaiser.

note: reader briefly mentioned as the wife, mostly crack

itoshi rin

- his daughter brings a boy back from kindergarten one day, tiny hands interlaced, and rin’s jaw hits the floor

- he stares down intimidatingly at the little boy, who just blinks his innocent eyes back

- “daddy! we’re gonna get married!” his little angel exclaims, all excited

- he thinks he’s going to pass out, because huh? it’s absurd to him—it took him years to fall in love, and here his girl was, barely two months into kindergarten

- begrudgingly agrees to attend their “wedding” at the playground near your house after you convince him that it was all fun and games, he’s willing to do anything to see his sweet girl smile

- the first real boyfriend he meets is in high school, who his daughter invites over for dinner one night, and rin is mildly startled when the guy recognizes him

- “i didn’t know your dad was itoshi rin?” his daughter’s boyfriend asks, in awe. “sir, i am a huge fan!”

- rin very slowly takes a liking to him after that (after the boy says that he always thought rin was the better brother.)

itoshi sae

- meets his daughter’s first boyfriend while picking her up from high school in his bmw m30i (red seats too!)

- “who’s this?” he asks, cool gaze landing on the boy next to his kid

- “h-hello sir,” the guy half bows, fear in his face evident

- “DAD! i told you not to scare him off…” his daughter sighs, waving the boy goodbye while blushing

- sae honestly doesn’t mind that much about his kid dating, he just gets a snicker out of intimidating them

- he does however care about this boy’s personality, is he worthy of sae’s little angel?

- “so, is he any good at soccer?” sae questions.

- “DAD!” his poor kid...

- any sort of relationship between a boyfriend and sae feels business professional, the guy is petrified of slipping up in front of him

- sae is the father that will show up at random times, even crashes dates sometimes and acts like nothing is out of the ordinary, yes he happened to want to get ice cream the same time his daughter and her boyfriend were at the store

- at the end of the day, sae just cares that his daughter feels happy and loved, even if he gets a kick out of scaring them both

nagi seishiro

- doesn’t mind at all, especially if the guy likes video games

- practically steals his daughter’s boyfriend away from her when she brings him home to meet seishiro

- seishiro was known as the “chill” dad anyway, but he was getting along a bit too well with the boyfriend

- his daughter had brought him over for “dinner” (ordered takeout), and upon meeting, nagi asked if he played any video games—he didn’t even bat an eye when his daughter introduces the guy as her boyfriend

- they were duoing just about every game possible after that

- the boyfriend now frequently comes over after school, sometimes just to ask for a video game carry from his girlfriend’s dad

- becomes a part of the family, has all of the streaming system logins and his own profiles on the ps5, xbox, and nitendo switch (super smash bros is an experience with nagi, his daughter, and the boyfriend)

michael kaiser

- 100% has a “no dating until you’re __ age rule” in the household

- even though he’s found love, he’s still extremely wary of it, and he’s even more clueless on how to be a proper parent

- he tries, but he can’t help if he’s a bit too strict at times

- thus his daughter hadn’t told him about her first, or second boyfriend, the one she introduces is actually her third who had asked her to the formal and she couldn’t not tell kaiser

- “dad, what would you do if i were, hypothetically, with a guy at the dance?”

- “i’d lock him into a police interrogation room with me and ask him extremely personal uncomfortable questions to make sure he’s alright, why?”

- the poor guy who had asked his daughter out is now sat in the backseat of michael’s too expensive car, along with his daughter on the way to the venue of the formal

- michael glares at him from the driver’s seat, eyeing him up and down in every way possible

- “who are your parents?” “do you have any hobbies or skills?” “are your grades okay?” “did your father ever beat you up?” “where do you live?” “how old are you?” “what’s your sign?” “why do you think you’re worthy of being here?” the interrogation session has only just begun.

- as if the rose tattoo weren’t intimidating enough, his daughter is lucky if any boyfriend isn’t running away crying after meeting kaiser

a/n: this is different from my usual content so i hope you guys like it...i personally don't think i did a great job characterizing this but f it we ball! tysm ira for the req <3

masterlist!

[feshippingpolls]

Kempf X Iago x narcian x valter x Níðhöggr x Hilda (classic)

FE: Should they kiss?

Kempf x Iago x Narcian x Valter x Níðhöggr x Hilda

[earpskeeper]

Leaving London felt like breathing for the first time in months.

You leaned your head against the train window as the city blurred past, the weight of Arsenal’s crest finally peeling off your chest. For now, anyway. No more shared glances in the hallway at London Colney. No more questions about your grief or your family. No more being referred to as ‘mini mead’ or ‘Beth’s little sister’. 

This loan was your shot. Your own pitch, your own squad, your own story. It wasn’t glamorous, rather the opposite. A struggling club in desperate need of cover after a spate of injuries, but it was yours. You could play ninety minutes without being compared to someone else. Without the ghost of England’s golden girl shadowing every touch.

You exhaled, eyes drifting to the half-empty carriage, to your phone screen lighting up with Beth’s name for the third time that hour. You let it go to voicemail again. The texts could wait.

You’ll smash it, Bubs. Just keep your head down and work hard. Proud of you.

Beth meant well. She always had. But ever since Mum died, her ‘love’ felt more like surveillance. Like a full-time job trying to prove you were fine. That she could stand on her own two feet and fulfil the mum role in the family now. 

You tightened the grip on the handle of your kitbag, trying to shake the thought. That was London. That was grief. This was something else. This was the start of your real career.

You had talent, you knew that. You just needed minutes, space, and someone willing to let her be. At your best, you could make defenders look stupid, slice through the midfield like it was nothing.  

The training ground smelled like damp grass and petrol fumes.

You stepped off the minibus the club had sent, your boots slung over one shoulder, her duffel bouncing against her hip. It was all a bit sad. The pitch was uneven, the gym barely more than a converted storage room, and the physio table looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the Euros.

But you kept your chin up, shoulders square. First impressions mattered.

The manager, a wiry man with deep-set eyes and a permanent frown, gave you a quick nod as he pointed toward the changing rooms.

"You're starting Sunday. Left wingback. Don’t need you flashy, just need you fit. That alright?" 

Though you knew it was not a question you could refuse, so instead you forced a smile. "More than alright."

He didn't ask about your fitness history. Just turned and walked away. You watched him go, the nerves in your stomach twisting, not from doubt, but something colder. A flicker of knowing.

They weren’t here to look after you. They were here to use you, but somehow you didn’t seem to care as much as you should. 

The next few weeks passed in a blur of iced joints and tired smiles. You played every minute, made every sprint, even when your body screamed at you to slow down. The club doctor handed out painkillers like mints, didn’t ask questions when you winced putting on your boots, and barely blinked when your post match urine test showed signs of dehydration and a bit too much alcohol.

“Stress relief?” he’d ask, too casually, and you would just shrug before replying. “Something like that.”

The pills helped. At least enough to train. And at night, when the adrenaline wore off and her knee pulsed with fire, the drink helped more.

The loneliness, you didn’t talk about. The growing ache in your body, you ignored. The way the doctor’s hand sometimes lingered too long during treatment, you forced into a corner of your mind and locked it up tight.

You were playing. That was what mattered. You were scoring, assisting, making headlines - Bailey Mead shines on debut, loan youngster rescues point with late equaliser. For the first time, they were using your name, not Beth’s.

So when the stiffness in your knee got worse, you didn’t say anything. When the bruises didn’t fade, you covered them. When your body stopped feeling like her own, you told herself that this was what pushing through looked like.

You’d come here to be more than a shadow.

You just hadn’t expected it to cost this much.

The morning it finally happened, it didn’t come with a bang. Just a gentle shift.

A missed step in training. A sudden crack of pain through your knee like someone had taken a crowbar to the joint. You dropped to the turf, breath caught in your throat, vision spinning as the world tilted off its axis. For a moment, no one moved. Then shouting. Whistles. Hands touching you everywhere.

You waved them off.

“I’m fine,” you lied, biting down on the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood.

The manager didn’t look convinced, but the doctor gave a slow, tight-lipped nod. “Rest tonight. Ice. I’ll give you something stronger to get through tomorrow.”

No scan. No second opinion. Just another pill shoved into your palm, no questions asked, and you swallowed it dry. 

That night, the pain was unbearable. So you drank until it dulled, just like you always did. One glass turned into two. Two into four. You woke on the sofa, aching and disoriented, the TV blaring some late-night rerun, your phone buzzing nonstop on the table.

Five missed calls. Three from Leah and two from Beth.

You blinked, confused. Then remembered, England’s youth camp was next month. They were checking in.

Your stomach twisted.

You couldn’t go back like this.

You couldn’t let them see you like this.

So you replied with a thumbs-up, a white lie, and took another pill.

Beth didn’t think much of it, not at first.

You’d always been a little moody. Hot and cold. Independent to a fault. She figured the space was probably good for both of you, maybe even overdue. And with the chaos that followed Mum’s passing, she had enough on her plate.

She was too busy sorting through various forms, trying to get Dad to eat something that wasn’t toast, remembering to cancel Mum’s old prescriptions, and chasing her own form after training to prove she was still sharp enough for selection.

Everyone grieved differently. That’s what people kept saying. Maybe this was just how you did it - away from home and away from her.

Still, Leah noticed.

It started with the little things. At first, nothing she could put her finger on. Just… changes.

You stopped replying in the group chat. Missed a couple of voice notes. Posted to Instagram but left Leah on read. When you did reply, the tone was clipped. Flat. Off.

Then came the matchday footage. A grainy stream Leah had half-watched on her phone during the car ride to St. George’s for camp. Your team got battered, but you looked good, technically sharp, decisive in possession. And yet…

Something wasn’t right.

You flinched after contact. Backed away from a challenge you’d normally snap into. Sat on the floor for longer than necessary after a foul. It was subtle - enough that most people wouldn’t catch it - but Leah did.

And the eyes.

Your eyes were empty.

So, she brought it up.

Beth had just sat down with her dinner at SGP when Leah sat down beside her and dropped the comment, casual but deliberate. 

"Bailey okay?"

Beth didn’t even look up. “She’s nineteen, on her first loan and just being a little shit.”

Leah frowned. “I mean… maybe. But she’s not replying to me. She looked off in her last game.”

Beth let out a breath through her nose. “Leah, you’re overthinking it. She’s fine. Just finding her feet. She wanted to leave, remember?”

“She looks like she’s in pain.”

“She’s just dramatic.”

Leah’s eyes narrowed. “Beth…”

“Leah, I appreciate it, but I think I know my sister.”

And that was the end of it. At least, for then.

Leah didn’t push, but something in her expression lingered, concern etched just beneath the surface.

Leah didn’t let it go. Not really.

She sat with it, chewed on it during warm-ups and quiet moments in camp. Her gut wouldn’t settle. Something about the way Beth had brushed it off didn’t sit right - too quick, too defensive. It wasn’t like her. Not when it came to you.

So a few days later, she tried again.

She pulled up the old match footage on her ipad in the players’ lounge, the screen propped against her knee. She watched you chase down a loose ball, win it cleanly, then limp three steps before forcing yourself upright like nothing had happened.

Leah zoomed in on the way your left knee buckled ever so slightly every time you pivoted.

She didn’t imagine that.

Still, she didn’t send it to Beth. Not yet. She knew how it would go - another brush off, another tight smile, another ‘she’s just pushing herself’.

And maybe that was true. Maybe it was nothing. But she also knew what it looked like when someone was barely holding it together, and your eyes in that post-match interview, the ones that darted everywhere but the camera, looked too familiar.

She’d seen it before. In herself. In teammates. In friends who waited too long to say, “I’m not okay.”

You barely remembered the last time you didn’t feel like a zombie.

Not because of the pain, though it was always there, but because everything was starting to blend. The pills took the edge off, but they also blurred the world around you. Made everything feel ten seconds slower. 

Like you were watching yourself play from somewhere outside your body.

It was an end of training 7 aside game when you had scored, again. A cut-in from the flank and a low drive to the far post. They’d cheered. Your teammates had swarmed you. The manager gave a rare thumbs-up from the sideline.

But you couldn’t feel it. Not really.

Your body hurt, your head buzzed, and all you wanted was for the noise to stop.

After training, the physio slapped some tape on your knee and told you to be smart. You nodded like you understood what that meant, then downed two more pills in the changing room when no one was looking.

Back in the flat, you cracked a beer to chase them. Then another. 

Then something stronger.

When Leah finally confronted Beth again, it wasn’t calm this time.

They were walking back from a team meeting at SGP, the sun already setting, boots slung over their shoulders.

“She’s not just being dramatic, Beth.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Jesus, are we still on this?”

“She’s injured,” Leah said flatly. “And hiding it. I’ve seen it before. She’s playing through something. Could be serious.”

“She’d tell me if it was.”

“Would she? When was the last time you had a proper conversation huh? When was the last time where she messaged you at a normal time of the day? I know you are busy taking care of everything but she is struggling too, and she doesn’t want to be a burden on top of your dad.”

Beth froze.

Leah knew immediately she’d hit too hard, but she didn’t back down.

“She’s slipping, Beth,” Leah said, voice quieter now. “I can see it. You might not want to, but I can.”

Beth looked away, jaw clenched. “I’ve got enough to deal with right now.”

“I know,” Leah replied. “But she’s your little sister. And she’s barely holding on.”

Beth didn’t respond. Just walked ahead, stiff-shouldered, like she could outrun the truth.

But later that night, she scrolled back through your messages. Looked at the gaps between your replies. The times of the texts - 2:41am. 3:56am. A photo from training with eyes that looked bright but vacant. A video from your last match with a wince she’d missed before.

And her stomach dropped.

She wasn’t sure when she’d started mistaking distance for independence.

But she was starting to realise, maybe she didn’t know you half as well as she thought.

[folkwhoreberry]

Can u make an Oscar x reader story where they’re childhood best friends and reader is like a famous singer or something and they’ve been hinting about their relationship but no one even knew they had a connection

This was super long 😭 sorry if u don’t understand

Steering Hearts

oscar piastri x reader

or... the one where you swear you’ll be moving on with his favourite athlete

word count : 1.7k

warning : reader wrote “good graces” by sabrina carpenter, english is not my first language!!!

on the radio : good graces by sabrina carpenter

🐨☘️

sweat dripped down your forehead, but you didn’t mind it, not even one bit.

with the microphone in your hand and the blinding flashes coming from the crowd, chanting your name and lyrics as you sang, how could you?

you stood in a line with your backup dancers, singing your hit song from your latest album, ‘good graces’.

“I’ll tell the world, you finish you chores prematurely,” you sang into the mic as you danced, “break my heart and I swear I’m moving on with your favourite athlete.” and that was the line that made the crowd scream. all because of a simple hand movement you did while singing - your free hand moving in circles imitating a steering wheel.

one simple hand movement - and the internet went crazy. because you wore an orange bodysuit while doing so. and lando norris and oscar piastri just so happened to be in the crowd.

an hour later the concert finally finished, you said your final thank yous to the crowd and crew before going backstage, where you were met with your manager and assistant, handing you a bottle of water and a towel to wipe of the sweat.

“you absolutely smashed it out there!” you manager praised you, a big smile on her lips as she patted your back.

you smiled and nodded and response, too out of breath to talk. you leaned against the nearest wall and kept drinking your water, until a familiar figure appeared in the corner of your eyes, along with another person trailing behind them.

“you did amazing, love!” oscar immediately said after coming close enough to you, his arms wrapping themselves around you without caring about the sweat covering you. “aw, thank you, osc.” you responded with a smile. “hey, it’s my nickname for him!” lando said from behind oscar, to which you rolled your eyes and clicked your tongue at.

“you’re tiring, aren’t you?” oscar whispered in your ear, making you hum in agreement. he chuckled, bringing one of his hands up to play with the ends of your hair. “so should we go back to the hotel?”

——————

the next morning was a mess on stan twitter. rumours of you dating the mclaren so-called ‘playboy’ lando norris were circulating all over the internet.

there were pictures of him and oscar going backstage after the show, videos of you smiling and waving to where the two boys were during the concert, sightings of the 25 year old filming you on his phone while you performed, and of course the orange outfit you wore that night, a colour that is often associated with mclaren, lando’s team.

——————

a week had passed since then, everyone somewhat calmed down from it, only sparking when lando was asked about it in interviews.

now, it was the morning of the australian grand prix - the first race of the 2025 season, and also oscar’s home race.

the paddock was full of excitement, reporters walking around with their cameramen and microphones, fans eager to meet their idols, and the drivers just trying to peacefully get from one place to another.

and there was you - walking through the paddock with you manager, just casually talking to her and occasionally turning to wave to a camera pointed at you pf take a picture with a fan.

“miss l/n, miss l/n! is it true that you’re dating lando norris?” one of the reporters asked you, pointing a microphone at you to hear your answer. you just smirked and snickered, ignoring g the question. “then why are you wearing a mclaren jacket?”

they weren’t wrong, you were wearing a mclaren branded jacket, white leather with their logo on the back, which you wore to support you boyfriend of course. you just kept on ignoring the cameras as you made your way to the mclaren garage, which luckily was the first one out of the rest of the teams. you walked inside, where you were met with oscar, who promised you he’ll meet you at the entrance.

“hey there, love. how was the drive here?” he asks you kindly, wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you further inside, to the front of the garage. “alright, not too much traffic.”

he hummed in response, leading you to the secluded spot he prepared for you in the back of the garage to watch the race.

“I gotta go get in the car now, darling. cheer for me, yeah?” oscar said with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before he moved aside to take his gloves and helmet, walking to the front of the garage towards the track, where the national anthem will be played before the start of the race.

the race started just minutes later, and your heart was beating with each turn oscar took and each place he gained or lost.

after almost two hours the race ended, and you were happy that your boyfriend ended the race with no missing kind of any serious injuries, not even caring what place he finished in.

you watched oscar’s car roll into the pit lane and saw him climb out. you were glad he was safe, your heart finally settling after nearly two hours of tense turns and overtakes. the mclaren garage erupted in applause, but you stayed in your secluded spot, waiting for oscar to come over.

a few minutes later, you saw him approaching, wiping sweat off his forehead with a towel. his smile brightened the moment he spotted you, and you grinned back, leaning against the wall of the garage.

“how was that?” he asked, his voice still a little breathless from the race.

“you were incredible,” you said, stepping closer to him. “I swear my heart was in my throat the entire time.”

he chuckled, pulling you into a quick hug, the scent of sweat and fuel faint on his race suit. “you’re always so dramatic,” he teased, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“I think it’s justified,” you quipped, lightly smacking his chest. “especially after that last turn. I was ready to jump on the track and drag you off myself.”

oscar laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’m just glad I didn’t give you another heart attack. next time, I’ll make it easier for you.”

you smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back. “well, go do your interviews, mr. piastri. I’ll be waiting for you back here.”

“yeah, yeah, I know the drill,” he said, giving you a wink before heading off toward the media pen.

you found a spot near a screen in the garage to watch him and lando give their interviews. they stood side by side, casual as always, but you knew they were in for the usual bombardment of questions. sure enough, one interviewer didn’t waste time.

“lando, there’s been a lot of speculation about your relationship with a certain singer. any comment?”

lando smirked and shot oscar a sideways glance. “oh, we’re really doing this again?” he said, crossing his arms and pretending to think. “well, I can’t blame people for talking. she’s a fantastic performer, you know?”

oscar snorted beside him, shaking his head. “he’s full of it,” he added with a grin. “no relationship there, sorry to disappoint.”

they both shared a laugh, shrugging off the question as the interviewer quickly moved on to race-related topics. you had to bite back a smile as you watched the whole thing unfold. the internet was going to lose it - again.

——————

the next day, you had a concert in the same city, and once again, oscar and lando made an appearance. as the show started, the crowd was electric, and the energy only grew when you hit the chorus of your song, ‘good graces.’

“break my heart and I swear I’m moving on with your favourite athlete,” you sang, throwing in that same steering wheel motion you did at the last show. the screams from the audience were deafening, and you couldn’t help but grin at the chaos you’d created again.

you stole a glance toward the back of the venue, where you knew oscar and lando were. it was hard to miss them, even in the dim light of the concert hall. oscar had that proud, supportive look on his face that never failed to make your heart swell, while lando - well, lando was grinning like the mischievous devil he always was.

once the concert ended and the cheers died down, you headed backstage. it wasn’t long before oscar and lando followed, dodging a few cameras as they made their way through the halls.

“well, if it isn’t the star of the show,” oscar teased as he approached you, his smile lighting up his whole face.

“that’s me,” you said, still catching your breath from the performance. “did I live up to your high standards?”

“always,” he replied softly, stepping closer to pull you into his arms.

just as you leaned into him, you felt a flash of a camera, and before you could react, oscar’s lips were on yours. it was a quick kiss, nothing too showy, but the click of the camera and the flashing lights around you meant only one thing—the internet was about to go wild.

“oh great, here we go,” lando muttered from the side, raising an eyebrow at the photographers. “guess we’ll be dealing with questions about this tomorrow.”

you and oscar both laughed as you pulled apart, but deep down, you knew this was going to cause another storm online.

sure enough, overnight, the internet exploded with headlines, pictures of oscar kissing you backstage, and a new wave of speculation about your relationship. it was everywhere - your fans, his fans, random gossip accounts.

the next morning, after a quick talk with oscar, you decided it was time to put an end to the rumors once and for all. you posted a simple picture on your social media - one of you and oscar, arms wrapped around each other, lips interlocked, and of course a cheesy caption.

oscar did the same, posting a cute picture of the two of your from a random cozy night-in you had, paired with a caption you made him change three times because of how oscar-ish it was.

the response was instant - fans flooding the comments with excitement, support, and some playful teasing.

lando even chimed in, posting a candid picture of you he took with the caption “wrong papaya mate guys”.

you couldn’t help but laugh as you scrolled through the reactions. it was all out in the open now, and honestly? it felt pretty damn good.

————————————————————————————

© all rights reserved to folkwhoreberry. no stealing or copying will be tolerated.

a/n : took me so long to write it (two days lol) but oh my godddd am I a sucker for singer!reader it feeds the oc’s in my head

[sakumz]

____________________________________________

[ a. harumasa x fem reader ]

____________________________________________

" come on the situation isn't that bad, " harumasa says as yanagi shakes her head.

" you're right, it isn't that bad. " you mocked, " it's terrible! " you slam open the door of section six office, as all heads turn to you. what was the section one slave doing here? sure you were in charge of checking their files here and there, same with them to yours. harumasa drop the file yanagi handed him earlier upon your arrival. sweat dripping down his forehead. was it really that terrible?

" ms l/n, you reek of alcohol. " miyabi starts as she gets down from her stool, hand on the hilt of her sword as you shake your head.

" wasn't section one having a party to celebrate your newly promoted chief? " soukaku questions.

" I only drank one can, I'm not drunk! " you scold.

" anyways you're all allowed to go home, except you, mr asaba harumasa! " they didn't press further but obliged, yanagi can only pray you go easy on him.

" come on was it that terrible? " you can't help but glare daggers. his work these days are incomprehensible. he was supposed to write a report about the recent hollow case. was it that hard to recall everything from start to finish without missing any details? he didn't even describe what ethereals were in it.

" yes it was, " you jab a finger to his chest, making him fall back on his chair. he swiddle around before pushing himself to his table.

" please rewrite the report or I'll make you write more. " he sighs, playfully putting his head down. you lean down to meet his face as he close his eyes. was he going to sleep?

" hey, don't sleep, " you poke his forehead as he shot up straight.

" if you're gonna stay with me, why don't you write it? I'll tell you the details, " you can't help but let out a frustrated sigh. was he really not going to do his work? it's just one report!

" you'll be free to go if you complete this earlier, you know. "

" I don't feel like doing it... " he sighs as he place his head down again.

few minutes pass as awkward silence engulfs the room, you pull the chair next to his. he's eating up your time. how can he fall asleep after a scolding? or a bickering... either way how can he sleep during a situation like this!

" hey, if you do this report I'll do whatever you want. " you ruffle his hair, as he sat straight, stretching as he looks at you, eyes beaming at your words.

" anything you say? " he teased as you regret your words.

" yes anything, but you better write the report correctly and properly within one hour! " you watch as he quickly turns on the computer smashing keys after keys as he ponders in between. it's pretty comical how he suddenly wants to vanquish his report.

you glance at the clock from time to time, he's focused on the task at hand. with one final key smash, his paper was printed as he went to grab it for you. handing it over as he stood in front of you. you flip and skim through the pages, pleased that whatever he wrote at least made sense and was connected.

" well, good job and thanks for the report. I'll submit it for you, " you stood up as his hands quickly fly over to your shoulder, pressing you back down on the chair. he's got you trap between him.

" are you forgetting something, miss? " he leans forwards, staring into your soul as a blush finds its way over to your face. this is the first time he's ever been close to you. you push the paper over to your face, trying to cover your face and calm your raging heart.

" what did I-I forget? " how you wish you didn't tell him, you'll do whatever he wants, so he'll finish his report and let you go home at least before midnight.

he pulls the paper down, smirking at your shyness or fake ignorance. you didn't forget the promise.

" I was gonna ask for a date for my hardwork but maybe a date isn't enough. " you stare at him as your blush just keeps growing. your hands starts to feel sweaty, is this guy serious?

" be my girlfriend. " he smiles as you push him off but he doesn't budge.

" I say I'll do whatever you want- "

" do be my girlfriend, " he beams even brighter if that was even possible.

" and as my girlfriend, you should give your very hardworking boyfriend a kiss for doing a good job on his report, " he purse his lips, making a ' muah ' sound.

maybe it's time to face the music, you do like him and you hope this isn't a prank or anything. you did say you'll do whatever and if what he says is true he did save a lot of time from beating around the bush and confessing.

" are you being serious right now? " he stops as he looks at you offended.

" I'm always serious when it's you, girlfriend. " he winks as you cringe.

" come on, give me that kiss and we can go home! "

you close your eyes and lean in, aiming to give a kiss to his cheek but he was quick to lean in and steal your lips with his. your eyes shot open, he place a hand behind your head. when he pulls away to catch his breath, you were starstruck. he leans again as you slap your hands over his lips.

" you said a kiss. " you can't help the silly smile threatening to crawl when he pouts, shoulder dropping at the rejection. he pulls away as he stand up, taking your hand in his.

" fine fine, more kisses will come anyways. let's take you home, " he drags you away and walks you to your apartment.

when he bids you farewell at your doorstep, he did kiss you once again. wishing you a very goodnight as you said the same.

to say the least this bro won't do shit when he's feeling extra tired or lazy so you'll have to step in and reward him with kisses or hugs and mostly both. it has been an occurrence in section six almost everyday, that yanagi has to physically pry you away when harumasa can't let go of you when he hugs you. you pat his head as you say goodbye as he weeps on his desk jokingly...

[renranram]

Is there any chance you could make a jschlatt x streamer reader 1shot where she admits she has a small thing for jschlatt on her stream because her viewers asked if she had a crush on any streamers she watches and jschlatt happens to be watching her stream because hes a fan of her🤭 i think its such a nice fic concept :))

Crush

sfw

fem!reader x schlatt

basically the submission hehe

" chat, i am not smashing tommyinit, he's a child! " you roll your eyes as drag the photo of tommy at the 'pass' side

you've been playing smash or pass with your twitch chat for a few minutes now, ' but he's 20 now ' ' he's a grown man ' ' he's a grown man with a husband and a girlfriend ' your chat spams

" well... during my time, he was a child, " you reply, dramatically rolling your eyes as you lean back your seat, talking about your dsmp phase

" but in all seriousness, id still pass him, he's literally like my little brother chat, dont be weird " you chuckle as you scroll to the next option, wilbur fucking soot, you pause, staring dead into the camera

before dragging the thing's photo out of the frame, you let the silence sink in as you glance at your twitch chat

poggerina; o7

y/n4lyfersmwa; mb guys he got out of his leash

bhielatkiffy; WHY IS THE BRIGHTON BITER THERE 😦😦😦😦

you read as you chuckle, " ... anyways.. " you added, scrolling down as a tts donation caught your attention,

y/nsfavkitten donated $15, ' hello y/nn, just wondering if you had any small crush on an old dsmp member? ' the tts reads out

as you shift on your seat, " a small crush? " you repeat, before chuckling, " well.. if you donate another 100 ill tell you " you play it off as a joke

and continue on with the game, you put charlie in smash, ted in smash, jack in pass ( banter ), niki in smash, until the donator actually donated a $100, taking you in surprise

" oh my fucking god, y/nsfavkitten, i was just joking " you chuckle, " should i give you a refund? " you offer, not thinking it'd be serious

y/nsfavkitten: nononono but can you answer my last question? :3

you pause sighing out, before nodding, " for you y/nsfavkitten, fine, i did have a small crush, like a veryyy small crush on someone there " you confess as you can see your chat speeds up

akh1rah_1r: WHO

y/nluvsme: WHO???

jojosiwayouscareme: HELP WHO??

numberoneschlaggot: no way dont tell me you liked dream

" ewww " you squirm, chuckling as you shake your head, " ... i used to have a thing for schlatt " you confess

mitskimybeloved: AHH I CALLED IT

immacomebacklikeaboomerang: ship

renranram : Y/N X SCHLATT CANON FR

you groan out, as you chuckle, " guys dont make it weird " you mumble, a faint blush on your cheek as you shifted on your seat

meanwhile schlatt on the other hand wanted to do backflips, like genuinely, he was like a monkey getting excited over a piece banana

and he thought, why not shoot his shot,

@.jschlatt • 1 minute

same i ship it too, @.y/n'swebbie

↳ 11 ⇆ 9 ♡ 201

as you saw the tweet, your face turned redder like a tomato, chuckling like a teenage girl seeing abs for the first time

" chat, this is all your fault "