#I don't think this is something players think about; but I have to draw both Ren AND [REDACTED] variations of CGs to compensate for—

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint 😼

I got goth vibes and so does my AngelOC, Elodie. So it's funny to imagine this pink boy who is secretly an emo boy in disguise next to a wednesday addams esque babe lmao. Poor boy miscalculated, I like that there was an option to be like 'Oh I like that goth style' at the cafe.

But this raises a question! Would he drop the Ren persona and aesthetic if he realized it wasn't totally necessary?

⌞♥⌝ This has been answered multiple times in the past, but yes, he'd drop the light academia aesthetic if Angel wasn't into it! ^^

However, from a game dev standpoint, it'd be extremely difficult for me to include a bunch of types and aesthetics in hopes of making Ren's appearance feel more inclusive for everyone, so it's easier for me to say, "Oh, Angel likes this one anime character" and build the lore around that.

So, for those who like Ren's real appearance and would've preferred if he introduced himself as [REDACTED] (instead of his Haruko persona), I hear you!! ^^

But please understand that if that were the case, the 14DWY storyline would be a lot less interesting and would defeat the entire purpose of Ren's motives. A big part of his characterisation is that he's more than willing to alter every part of himself to become Angel's ideal type, and if their type happened to be [REDACTED], then it'd make the buildup to his reveal in Day ??? feel far less anticlimactic.

[kjzx]

Nas'hrah I believe somewhere at the museum mentions The Girl and he says something along the lines of "--that kid, whatever her name was,--" which implies that she Did have a name, which makes sense (pretty much everyone but Enki would give her a name and he very explicitly was not the one who led her to ending A), but it's nice to have a canon confirmation she did have a name

If NAS'HRAH vaguely remembers her having a name I damn bet everyone was calling her by it

[s0dium]

𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍

Haikyuu men x Reader

A/n: This is part of my Olympic event, please click on the for more! If you would like to suggest something for this event don't hesitate!

Synopsis: What do Haikyuu men do after the Olympics? Well, they do you

Warnings: Spanking, fingering, praise, groping, squirting

The camera zooms in on the bustling Olympic stadium in Paris, its energy palpable even through the television screen. The crowd's roaring cheers reverberate, celebrating the electrifying victory of the Japanese volleyball team. Among the sea of jubilant teammates, the camera focuses on one player, your boyfriend, glistening with sweat and wearing an infectious smile: fresh from clinching the gold medal.

As he steps away from the celebratory huddle, a reporter, microphone in hand, intercepts him. The reporter's voice is enthusiastic, mirroring the atmosphere, "So, what are your plans to celebrate the big win?"

He chuckles, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, his grin widening, "Well, after drinks with the guys," he pauses, "I have a little post-game ritual."

Intrigued, the reporter leans in, the crowd's cheers serving as a dramatic backdrop, "Oh yeah? What's that?"

He winks at the camera, "Secret."

Yes a secret it was, one that only you and him knew. One that started off with you being bent over his knee with his fingers deep in your creamy cunt.

"Been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, right hand caressing the fat of your ass while his left curls and massages the sweet part of your gummy walls that makes your eyes roll back. At this point you have given up resisting, letting your body hang limp over his muscular thighs.

As his fingers probe and massage your gspot, the wet sounds of your arousal fill the room, an intoxicating symphony that drowns out all other thoughts. Each movement, each touch, creates a chorus of slick, rhythmic noises that seem to echo in your mind, pushing you further into a state of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"So good," you whine and you don't know it but the tips of his ears go red from the sound of your voice. Your brain begins to haze, the world around you blurring until all that exists is the sensation of his ministrations. His touch is both fast and demanding, knowing exactly how to tease and please, drawing you closer to the edge. He reaches a spot inside you that you can only dream about reaching with your own fingers.

"I know baby, I know you feel good. Shit, i cant feel you squeezing my fingers." he groans at the feeling of your cunt convulsing around his digits. He is already two fingers deep in you but at this point he's thinking about stretching you further and slipping in a third. So he does. Using your dripping arousal as lubricant he slips in a third finger making your thighs tremble from the sudden intrusion. The stretch is delicious, who knew a volleyball player's hands had other uses besides volleyball?

"I won for you princess, the whole time i was playing I was thinking about you."

You can feel your pussy tighten and convulse at his words, the clicking sound of your arousal a testament to your connection, your mutual need.

Time loses all meaning as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations. His fingers, his praises, every part of him is dedicated to driving you wild, and you find yourself unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips. The noises you make together are primal, raw, and they pull you deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

"M'feel weird," You choke. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps as the sensations become almost overwhelming. You feel something press down on your core like there is a pressure building inside you, a sweet, urgent tension that demands release.

"Shhh its ok, let it go baby." He coos and before you can respond he delivers a sharp smack to your ass. "make a mess on my hands, come on~"

The pleasure is so intense, so all-consuming, that it creates an almost paradoxical sensation. The euphoria is so great it feels as though you might lose control, as if you need to pee. It's a raw, primal feeling that heightens the urgency and the pleasure, pushing you further toward the edge.

You squeeze your eyes shut, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity. Your mind races, caught between the need to let go and the fear of losing control. Then, it hits you. with a curl of his fingers against your wall, you surrender to it, letting the sensation wash over you.

Your are too lost in the ecstasy to realize that you are squirting all over his hand. It's like an explosion, your body trembling, your mind going blank, consumed entirely by the pleasure he has given you.

"Just like that, let it go y/n let it go." His hands rubs circles on your ass as your body shakes and trembles from your orgasm.

"So perfect so perfect, the best prize I swear."

HINATA, KUROO, BOKUTO, OIKAWA, TSUKISHIMA, Kenma, Ushijima, IWAZUMI, AKASHI, ATSUMU

[hy6erion]

Hii! Could I pretty please request a jayce×reader smut. I was thinking about collage!jayce and reader having a game night with friends. In the heat of the moment, playing some game where you are dependent on other's players willingness (like how in catan you can trade with other players or in monopoly you can buy the get out of jail card from someone), reader was really close to winning and just needed jayce to sell her something or trade with her or whatever and said something along the line of "I'll suck you off just trade with me", half joking (everyone laughing, jayce gives in etc...). And after everyone's gone home he's just there like "so... that was a joke, right". Just pathetic desperate jayce because that who he is.

~🍒

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟-𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐣𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤- 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬.

⇢𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐣𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞!!, 𝐬𝐮𝐛! 𝐉𝐚���𝐜𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐲 (´ ω `♡) 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐎𝐡𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞....

The apartment is packed, the living room floor covered in game boards, beer bottles, and half-eaten snacks.

The air is thick with the kind of competitive energy that only comes from college students taking a game night way too seriously. You're sprawled out on the couch, eyes locked on the board in front of you, planning your next move with the intensity of someone about to make history.

Jayce is across from you, lounging back against the couch, one arm draped over the cushions, the other lazily holding his cards. He's been giving you shit all night, blocking your trades, refusing to sell you what you need, smirking every time you groan in frustration. Smug, cocky, completely in his element.

You're one move away from winning.

One stupid trade away. And of course, the only person who has what you need is Jayce fucking Talis. You glance at his cards, then at his face, and sigh dramatically.

"Jayce, come on. Just trade with me."

He grins, tapping his fingers against his chin like he's deep in thought, though you both know he's just drawing this out to be annoying.

"Mmm, nah. I don't think I will."

You throw your hands up. "Jayce, be serious. I literally just need that one fucking card."

He shrugs, clearly enjoying watching you suffer. "And I literally just don't feel like trading."

Groans erupt around the room. Vi shakes her head. "Jayce, just give it to her. It's not that deep."

Jayce smirks. "Nope."

You narrow your eyes, leaning forward, playing up the frustration, letting your voice drop into something sweet, teasing. "Jayce," you say, slow, deliberate, "I will literally suck your dick if you just trade with me."

The room goes silent for half a second before erupting into laughter.

Mel chokes on her drink. Caitlyn smacks Vi on the arm, doubling over.

Ekko leans back, eyebrows raised, looking genuinely impressed.

Jayce, though-Jayce freezes. His mouth opens slightly, like his brain is trying to catch up with his body, like the words are sinking in too slow. His eyes flick to yours, and for a moment, you swear you see something shift.

Something desperate, something raw.

But then the laughter drags him back, and he forces out a chuckle, shaking his head like it's nothing.

"You're so full of shit," he mutters, handing over the card with a roll of his eyes. "Fine. Take it. Jesus."

You grab it, grinning, and slam it onto the board. "That's game!" Cheers and groans echo through the room as you throw your hands up in victory, barely catching the way Jayce watches you, barely noticing the way he doesn't laugh as easily as the others.

—

The night winds down after that, everyone packing up, finishing drinks, stretching as they gather their things.

One by one, they leave, Vi and Caitlyn arguing about some rule from earlier, Mel throwing you a knowing look before disappearing out the door.

Jayce is still sitting on the couch, legs spread wide, his hands flexing against his thighs like he's trying to get himself under control. He hasn't moved since the door shut behind your last friend. Just staring, lips parted, golden-brown eyes locked onto you like he's still processing what happened hours ago.

Like he's been waiting.

Like he's barely holding himself together.

You stretch, pretending not to notice the way his gaze drops to the sliver of skin revealed where your hoodie rides up. "Guess I should clean up."

Jayce swallows hard. His voice is rough, low, almost careful when he finally speaks. "So, uh... that was a joke, right?"

You turn, giving him an innocent look.

"What was?"

He drags a hand down his face, groaning. "You know what."

You blink, tilting your head, playing dumb. "You mean when I said l'd suck your dick if you traded with me?"

Jayce actually whimpers.

His head drops back against the couch, his fingers tightening on his thighs, and you swear you see him press his knees together like he's physically trying to stop himself from reacting. He looks wrecked, already ruined, like he's been holding onto the thought all fucking night. His cock twitches in his sweats, barely concealed, already half-hard just from hearing you say it again.

"Fuck," he mutters, eyes squeezed shut. "Don't say it like that."

You bite back a grin, stepping closer, watching the way his breath shudders when you move toward him. "Why not?"

Jayce opens his eyes, and he looks so desperate it almost makes you laugh.

His pupils are blown, his lips parted, his whole body tense like he's about to snap. "Because," he groans, shifting in his seat, looking down at where his cock is already straining against his sweats, "I've been hard since you said it, okay?"

You blink. "Wait."

Jayce groans again, covering his face with one hand. "Since the game."

You stare, heat curling in your stomach. "Jayce."

He lets his head drop back again, groaning into his palm. "Fuck. I knew it. You're gonna make fun of me."

You smirk, stepping between his knees, reaching out to tug his hand away from his face. "Oh, I'm absolutely going to make fun of you."

Jayce lets out the most pathetic little noise, somewhere between a whimper and a plea. His thighs spread wider, inviting, instinctive, like he wants you to take advantage of him. His breath is heavy, ragged, like just the thought of what's about to happen is ruining him. "I-fuck, I don't care. Just-" He swallows, golden-brown eyes flicking up to yours, dark and pleading. "Just, please. Please..."

You drag your fingers down his chest, watching the way his abs tense, feeling how warm his skin is through the fabric. "So desperate," you murmur, grinning.

Jayce nods immediately. "Yeah. Yeah, i'm desperate. So fucking desperate. You've been teasing me all night, and I-fuck-please, just-"

You don't even let him finish before you drop to your knees between his spread thighs. His whole body jerks, a shuddered gasp escaping his lips as his head falls back against the couch.

His hands tremble where they grip the cushions. "Fuck."

You trail your fingers over the outline of his cock, feeling how hard, how thick, how absolutely wrecked he already is. He twitches under your touch, his hips lifting slightly, chasing any friction. "You've been sitting here like this all night?" you hum, pressing your palm down just to hear him whine.

Jayce nods frantically, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "I couldn't stop thinking about it. Couldn't stop thinking about you on your knees, about that pretty mouth-oh, fuck-"

You squeeze lightly, watching him tremble. "Then you should've just asked, Jayce."

He groans, his hips bucking up into your touch, his hands fisting the couch like he's trying not to just grab your head and make you take him already. "Please," he begs, voice wrecked, desperate.

"Please, I can't-| need-"

You grin. "You need what?"

Jayce actually sobs. "Please suck my cock."

Who are you to deny him?

—

Jayce is in heaven.

Completely fucking gone, wrecked, brainless with pleasure, golden-brown eyes fluttering shut, his breath coming out in ragged, desperate gasps as you work him over. He's sprawled out on the couch, legs spread wide, hands gripping the cushions like he's barely holding himself together. His body is shaking-tensing and shuddering with every slow, deliberate slide of your lips over his cock.

You hum around him, letting your tongue drag along the underside, teasing, making him feel every inch of it. He chokes on a whimper, his hips jerking up instinctively before he forces himself back down, knowing better than to move without permission.

"F-fuck-" His voice wobbles, high and needy, already so desperate, already so far gone. His fingers twitch against the couch, itching to grab your hair, to pull, to push— but he doesn't. Because you didn't tell him he could.

You pull back slightly, letting his cock slip from your lips with an obscene wet sound, stroking him slow, teasing.

"You wanna touch me, Jayce?"

His head snaps up, nodding frantically, golden-brown eyes glassy, pleading. "Y-yeah-oh, f-fuck-please, please-"

You hum, dragging your fingers up his thigh, tracing patterns against his skin, watching as he shudders, barely able to handle even the softest touch. "Mmm. I don't know, baby. You're not really being patient, are you?"

Jayce whimpers.

Actually, fucking whimpers. His abs clench, his cock twitching against your palm, already leaking, already so fucking needy.

"I-I-fuck—" His breath shatters, his head tipping back against the couch, his lips parting in the prettiest moan as you squeeze around his length. "I'll be good-I'll be s-so good for you, I swear-"

You smirk, dragging your nails lightly over his stomach, watching him suck in a breath, his whole body going tense. "You sure about that?"

Jayce nods frantically, his hands still fisting the couch, his thighs trembling beneath your palms. "Y-yeah-yes, I swear, I swear-p-please-"

You lean in, licking a slow stripe along the head of his cock, teasing him with just the tip of your tongue. His whole body jerks, a wrecked sob breaking from his throat.

"F-fuck-oh, f-fuck-" His voice cracks, completely pathetic, completely desperate. His fingers twitch, but he doesn't move, doesn't touch, doesn't do anything he's not allowed to.

"Good boy," you murmur, wrapping your lips around him again, sinking down, taking him deep, swallowing around him as you feel his whole body seize up beneath you.

Jayce lets out the most broken moan.

His hands fly up— hovering-not grabbing, not pushing, just trembling in the air like he doesn't know what to do with himself. His brain is melting, crumbling, breaking apart at the edges.

"Oh, f-fuck, baby-" His voice is high and breathless, so fucking gone already. His hips twitch, his thighs shake, his golden-brown eyes flutter shut as he lets out the prettiest fucking gasp.

"You feel so good-ohhh-f-feel so perfect, s-so fucking perfect, love your mouth, baby, f-fuck, love you s-so much-"

You hum, taking him deeper, sucking hard, watching his abs flex, watching his head tip back, completely wrecked.

Jayce whines.

Loud, desperate, needy. His fingers twitch in the air before he finally lets them settle on your head, not pushing, just petting, just stroking, his voice breaking as he babbles more nonsense.

"You're s-so good-s-so good to me, baby, s-so fucking perfect, I-love you, love your mouth, I-love the way you— oh, f-fuck-"

His hips twitch forward before he jerks back, groaning, forcing himself still. "S-sorry, baby, s-sorry-f-fuck-w-won't move, I promise-"

You grin around him, dragging your nails down his thighs, watching him shudder, his cock pulsing against your tongue. "You're so obedient," you murmur, voice warm, teasing.

"Such a desperate little thing for me, huh?"

Jayce lets out the neediest fucking moan you've ever heard.

"Yes-ohhh, f-fuck-yes, f-fuck, I'm-" His voice shatters, his hands fisting in your hair, still not pulling, still just holding on for dear fucking life.

He's so fucking close. You can feel it in the way he tenses beneath you, in the way his breath comes out in uneven little gasps, in the way his hips jerk forward before he whimpers, forcing himself back down.

"B-baby, please-" His voice cracks, golden-brown eyes wide and pleading, so fucking gone for you.

"P-please, sweetheart, I-let me cum, please-"

And fuck—

You let him.

[gloomysoup]

a secret worth keeping

@steddiebingo prompt: sneaking around | rating: m | word count: 2319 | tags: secret relationship, rockstar eddie, hockey player steve, modern au | ao3

🏒 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 🏒

“I can't believe I let you two drag me to a hockey game,” Eddie grumbled as they moved through the crowd to get to their seats. “It's too cold in here. And I have to watch sports! This is, like, the exact opposite of how I wanted to spend our off day.”

“Come on, Eddie! It'll be fun!” Gareth said, knocking his shoulder into Eddie’s.

“What about this is fun, Gareth?!” Eddie screeched, drawing a few stares from those around them. “It's hockey! It's cold, and it's sports, and you know I can't stand sports! I am already miserable. What makes you think I’m going to have fun?”

“Christ, Eddie, can't you just try to enjoy something someone else likes for once in your life?” Jeff grumbled with an eye roll. He sat in his seat, decked out in his favorite hockey jersey, which he always takes on the road with him. He claims it's for luck, but Eddie secretly thinks he just doesn't want to leave it at home with his slightly psychotic girlfriend. Eddie never did like her. He still doesn't understand why Jeff doesn't just break up with her, but he'd never say that out loud. He's had his own fair share of bad relationships that the guys graciously don't make fun of him for… anymore.

“It's not my fault you guys picked the one thing you know I can't stand,” Eddie shot back.

“Eddie, man, just shut the fuck up for once,” David snapped. “Hockey isn't really my thing either, but you don't hear me complaining.”

Eddie, clearly outnumbered by his so-called friends, huffed and flopped down into his seat at the end of the row. Curse Gareth and Jeff, and their stupid hockey team. Eddie slouched in his seat, arms crossed, as the teams came to the bench. Their manager, Chrissy, had scored them seats in the front row, right behind Gareth and Jeff’s team’s bench. It didn't take long for Eddie’s friends to be on their feet, cheering and yelling with the rest of the crowd.

Eddie couldn't possibly care less.

-

He loathed to admit it, but hockey was actually… kind of interesting? He had zero clue what was going on, like, at all, but there were some moments that he couldn't help but be intrigued. Particularly when the players landed some hard hits on each other.

What really got his attention, though, was the fight.

They were reaching the tail end of the second period. The game was tied, 3-3. Tension was high. A player from Gareth and Jeff’s team— he didn't catch the number— took a shot at the goal just as an opposing player slammed into him from the side. The guy went straight into the glass, and then he pushed the player back. He got a stick to the side for his troubles. Within seconds, they were shoving each other, sticks left forgotten on the ice. It wasn't long after that the refs broke it up, sending both players to their respective penalty boxes. Eddie watched in fascination as the player from Gareth and Jeff’s team pushed his way into the box, slamming his stick into the wall and ripping his helmet off.

It was like a Greek God was walking among them, playing hockey of all things. The man was gorgeous. Eddie watched in pure wonder as he rubbed a hand over his face, combed his fingers through his hair, and whacked the glass with his stick again. He could see the frustration, but he was too absorbed in his staring to care.

“Who is that?” Eddie asked, barely sparing a glance towards his friends as he continued to stare.

“Who’s who?” Gareth asked, tearing his eyes away from the game for the first time since the period started.

“That.” Eddie nodded toward the box, where the Greek God of a hockey player was shoving his helmet back over his head and talking to the guy standing in front of the door.

“The guy in our box? 23?”

“Yeah. Him. Who is he?”

“Steve Harrington. He's from Indiana too, actually. Second overall pick from Ohio State two years ago. He's good.”

“He's hot.”

Jeff whipped around to give Eddie an incredulous look. “Dude….”

“What? Can’t a guy appreciate a good-looking man?”

“And what about your doctrine, huh? Thought you had a thing against jocks? Or does that not apply to dating?”

Eddie shrugged. “Who said I had to date him?”

Gareth wrinkled his nose. “Gross, dude.”

Eddie’s eyes didn't leave 23 for the rest of the game.

-

This was stupid.

What the hell was he thinking.

Eddie laid in his bunk on the tour bus, staring at his phone screen, stuck in an endless loop of internal turmoil.

He hit the backspace button until the message was gone. His thumbs tapped across the screen. Delete again. Type again.

He set his phone down on his chest and blew out a long breath.

This was so fucking stupid.

He picked it back up and looked at the message again… only to realize he’d accidentally hit send.

Fuck.

Eddie sat up quickly, momentarily forgetting where he was, and whacked his head off the top of the bunk.

“Shit!”

His phone tumbled from his hand and clattered to the floor. A string of curses fell from his lips as he scrambled for his phone. The bus turned, sending his phone sliding across the bus and bumping into Jeff’s bunk down at the end of the row.

“No, no, no, I got it,” Eddie rushed as Jeff reached down to pick it up. Too late.

“What's got your panties in a twist?” Jeff asked as he picked it up. He started to hand it back to Eddie, but obviously caught a glimpse at the screen. He snatched it back before Eddie could grab it from his hand, looking intently at the screen and cackling. “Oh my god, you did not!"

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed, reaching for his phone. “Just give it back!”

Gareth poked his head out from his bunk, eyebrows furrowed and clearly still half asleep. “What's goin’ on?”

Eddie glared at Jeff. “Don't.” Jeff just grinned maliciously right back at him.

“Eddie slid into Harrington’s DMs.”

Gareth perked up, much more awake with the new information. “Oh, no, he didn't.”

“He did!” Eddie hid his face in his hands, already feeling his cheeks burn. “Wait, he's texting back!”

“Give it back, Jeff,” Eddie begged hopelessly, knowing it wasn't going to do him any good. Jeff held his phone out of reach, watching the screen for the message that was going to come through any minute.

“Dude, I can't believe you actually sent him a message,” Gareth commented with a laugh.

“And I can't believe it worked,” Jeff added. “He said, ‘Glad to see I have a fan’. With a winking emoji.”

“This is stupid,” Eddie huffed, snatching his phone from Jeff’s hand. “Y’all suck. I'm going to bed.”

Eddie thought that would be the end of it. He sent a stupid message, got a trained reply, and that was that. Oh boy, was he wrong.

He didn't tell a soul. It was their little secret. And honestly? Eddie thought it was kind of fun. Sneaking around, meeting in hotel rooms on the road, texting every day. It was thrilling. Eddie’s never had a secret that fun before. His friends still poked fun at him for the initial message from time to time, but Eddie always blew off further questioning with a simple, “It didn't work out.” But he would sneak off to meet with Steve every chance he got.

Eddie was playing a dangerous game.

With every secret meeting, with every text sent and night spent together, Eddie fell more and more in love with Steve Harrington. He'd probably be more upset about it if Steve hadn't made it so easy to fall. Steve Harrington also made Eddie take risks he wouldn't normally take. Like sneaking him into the hotel room that his bandmates also had a key for.

“I missed you,” Eddie murmured against Steve’s lips, fingers tangled in his still-damp hair. It was late. Steve had an evening practice and went straight to Eddie’s nearby hotel after. A hotel that Eddie specifically asked for, because he knew it was close to the rink.

“Missed you too,” Steve whispered back before kissing Eddie again, hard and deep. “It's almost playoff season. I'll be done soon, 'til next season. I can come see you more.”

Eddie loved how breathless Steve sounded. Loved that he was the reason.

Their clothes dropped to the floor piece by piece as they migrated to the bed, leaving a trail of wandering hands in their wake. Eddie pushed Steve back onto the bed, taking a moment to admire the way his hair fanned out beneath him and his skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He couldn't keep his mouth off of him for long, though. He trailed kisses across his torso, sucking a bruise here and there. He slipped his hand between them, toying with the button on Steve’s pants before finally popping it open and sliding the zipper down. Steve’s eyes were closed, eyelashes brushing across his cheeks, and he was already panting. Eddie watched as he pulled his arms up above his head, stretching his torso more. Eddie couldn't help it. He ran his hand up Steve’s abs, relishing in the shiver he received. His hand trailed back down, fingers scratching against the hair beneath his navel, dipping lower and lower and-

Click.

“Yo, Eddie!”

The door pushed open, and there were his bandmates.

“Oh my fucking god.”

Eddie’s head collapsed onto Steve’s stomach as he groaned. Of course this would happen now. Eddie couldn't even bring himself to look up, to face what was happening. He knew he would have to. He couldn't get out of this one. But now he's dragged Steve into it too. Perfect Steve, who has been so good to him and didn't deserve to be put in the middle of Eddie’s band’s bullshit.

“Eddie, what the actual fuck.” Jeff’s voice broke through after what felt like hours of silence.

Eddie took a deep breath and lifted his head, knowing it was time to face this head on. “Guys, Steve, Steve, the guys.”

“Eddie. Dude. You cannot be serious right now.”

“Yeah, man,” Gareth added. “You owe us an explanation.”

“I don't owe y'all shit,” Eddie muttered, still very much aware that he is still in a compromising position. “What I do in my free time is none of your business.”

Jeff crossed his arms and raised his brow. “Uh huh. Sure. So it was none of your business when you caught Gareth losing his virginity to that model? Or how about when David was on that ecstasy kick a while back?”

“Dude,” Gareth hissed, smacking Jeff in the shoulder. “Do you really have to spill our fucking secrets like that in front of Steve Harrington?”

“That's different,” Eddie argued.

“How is that any different than this, Eddie? Is it because this time it's you? You can butt into our business, but when we catch you with Steve Harrington, it's none of our business?”

Eddie grumbles, knowing deep down Jeff is right. This isn't any different than the other times. They've always shared everything with each other. His business is the band’s business, and vice versa. That's how they've always been. No secrets. Well, not until this. Not until Steve. Which… actually isn't much of a secret anymore.

“How long has this been going on?” Gareth asked. “Because, y'know, we asked. How long were you lying, Eddie?”

Eddie knew they were just joking. He knew they weren't taking it that seriously. But still. Did they have to take digs at him like that?

“It wasn't like that, dickbags,” Eddie snarked. “You're just too nosy. Can't have anything to myself.” Eddie couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.

Jeff rolled his eyes, but he was fighting a smile of his own. “Whatever, man. We still expect to hear about it later. Don't do anything stupid, because I am not giving up my hockey team for you.”

With that, the guys left, closing the door with a soft click behind them. Eddie groaned into the duvet. He only looked up when Steve started laughing; a little snort turning into a fit of giggles.

“I'm sorry,” Steve said through his giggles. “It's just- it was just- so funny. I'm sorry.”

Eddie shook his head, a smile on his face. “You, Steve Harrington, are absolutely ridiculous.”

“And you're not?” Steve challenged, still fighting through his giggles.

Eddie shook his head again and leaned up to kiss him. “They're never going to let me live this down.”

“Oh, baby, neither am I,” Steve whispered with a smile against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie leaned back a little to see Steve’s face. “That mean you're gonna stick around? Even after that whole debacle?”

“Well, I think I have to now.” Steve’s smile was soft, filling Eddie with a warmth he's not sure he's ever felt before. “Can't make it awkward for Jeff, can I? With the hockey team and all.”

Eddie chuckled before leaning in and kissing Steve again. The heat of the moment was gone, but that was okay. Eddie was content just to be there, in the moment. They spent their night trading lazy kisses and drawing patterns on their skin with their fingertips. In the morning, Eddie knew he’d have to face his friends. He'd have to explain everything, because Corroded Coffin didn't keep secrets from each other.

Oh well.

Sneaking around was fun while it lasted, sure, but now he gets to annoy the shit out of his friends talking about Steve whenever he wants. It was a win-win for him.

The guys were really about to regret dragging Eddie to that hockey game.

[chiya-eltanin]

hm. dont usually put my own two cents for theories but somethings been kind of annoying me recently so yeah. ralsei thoughts.

i really dont like the idea that ralsei is a specific object. especially not with newer stuff from chapters 3 and 4.

For starters, most people that try to figure out what ralsei is in the real world are basing it off of this appearance

however, I feel like there's plenty of evidence to point to this not being his real form, right? People have already pointed out that his original shadowed form isn't fully consistent. It's possibly the most obvious when you compare his singing animations in both forms. His hat form makes what was later 'revealed' to be his ears look more like hair?,

Ears don't really split the same way that hair does, and theres other examples of hatsei having this kind of spikyness to his 'ears' that hatless ralsei doesnt have.

even the fangamer plush makes his ears spiky!!

its a pretty major part of how hatsei looks, and its certainly been talked about before. And then comes chapter 3+4. And we have plenty of evidence that ralsei is a shapeshifter, and I have seen literally nobody talk about it????? huh?????

Oh, and the hat casting a shadow on him makes no fucking sense because he goes onto wear SEVERAL hats in chapter 3 and he's normal????

also I know its like. A funny bit, but HE TURNS INTO A HORSE

WHY THE FUCK WOULD KRIS'S HEADBAND TURN INTO A HORSE???? WHY WOULD A GREEN CRAYON TURN INTO A HORSE???? WHY CAN HE DO THIS????? THIS ISNT A COSTUME THATS NOT HOW THEY WORK????? WHERE WOULD HIS BODY GO.

not to mention that changing shapes was literally his ability in the legend of tenna game???? he plays it off like 'oh every character has abilities i can turn into a box' but he can also turn into a dog? since ralsei was the only one who read the manual it very well could be an ability given to him since the real Ralsei is also a shapeshifter.

It would also explain why ralsei draws himself in his hat form

thats closer to what his natural form is. Dont have any screenshots on hand right now, but he's got two lines in chapter four (if you leave him lying on the ground for too long, and right before they find the first fountain) about how much longer he can 'keep this body for' that make it very obvious that he's only using a form that looks cuter to appeal to us. Him being a shapeshifter would also explain things like

His face being a deliberately made abstraction would also make this interaction make a lot more sense. Pre chapter three, I assumed Ralsei based his face on Asriel to either try appealing to Kris or as fanservice for the player/red soul, however, now that we've slowly started learning more about Ralsei, it's beginning to seem more like Ralsei just wants to have a face and more distinct appearance, like the lightners do. However, because of how dark worlds work, he can only base it off of what already exists, with that already existing 'model' being Asriel, although with modifications to make himself cuter— pink horns and eyes, and his usual glasses. It's why Kris is always quick to point out differences between them, and why Ralsei is embarrassed at being told that they look similar, he didn't have a choice other than be based off something that already exists.

Alright, so Ralsei is a shapeshifter. He still has to have some equivalent in the Light World though, since that's how Dark Worlds work. He was literally about to tell Susie what he was before getting interrupted, and Toby Fox is deliberately dancing around the topic.

However, I think the answer is actually pretty obvious. Ralsei is a being of 'pure darkness', which is why he can exist in any Dark World, unlike Lancer and Rouxls, who need to be objects that 'belong' in their respective worlds. His form is made up by the original dark fountain, and he describes himself as a 'Prince of the Dark'. Characters in the Dark World know about what happens to and around their real world equivalents, but Ralsei in particular seems to be especially aware of all of Susie and Kris's actions and movements. He doesn't need to be brought in by Kris like Lancer and Rouxls do, and he always appears in the Dark World a few moments after Susie and Kris do, while somehow almost always having pretty intimate knowledge of how the world came to be. Ralsei is also the most adamant on being depended on by Lightners, even more than people like Tenna. He talks about how a Darkners role is to be used by Lightners and to make them happy, and his character development in Chapter 3 especially goes into how he wants to be needed and how he's afraid he's slowly developing his own personality, and why he believes darkners shouldn't do that.

So, taking all of that into account, I feel like the most obvious answer for what Ralsei is is a shadow.

He's a literal prince of the dark. It explains why he can shapeshift, since shadows can be made to look like anything— I'm specifically thinking of things like shadow puppets, and why when he gets knocked out he seems to literally disappear, returning to the shadows. A shadow is also the most dependant on light, shadows literally cannot exist without light, or they'll just be darkness. It even explains his empty room.

His insistence that his only role is to help the Lightners, the way that people can never find anything notable about him (asking swatch for specials his suggestion for Ralsei is based purely on how he dresses and Queen literally forgets to get him a cage), and his ability to be in any dark world (since there's literally nowhere without shadows) all seem to point towards Ralsei being a shadow.

Ralsei being a shadow also means he's literally with you in the dark, could probably straight up not exist if the world was plunged into darkness, and also makes him a weaker version of a titan (explaining the 'prince' title. not quite king, but noble nontheless).

[imsobadatnicknames2]

Regarding your post(s) about investigation checks and the like, there's something that's bothering me, and it bothered me for a while. Not in regard to investigation, but charisma (and similar checks, diplomacy, negotiation, persuasion, whatever the game calls it).

In a TTRPG with skills, those skills are an abstraction meant to simulate a characters actual capabilities. If I want to make a character who can effortlessly jump from rooftop to rooftop, I'll give them high Athletics, Agility, Endurance, whatever. Maybe some feats, abilities, perks, advantages etc that pertain to jumping. Now, if I want my character to jump from rooftop to rooftop, I just roll the dice, and the skills, attributes, perks etc will make sure I have a high likelihood of success. I don't need to prove to the GM or the group that I myself could make that jump.

But now let's talk about Charisma checks. I've often heard stories of groups who say they don't make those checks, they just let the player make the argument, and if the GM is convinced, they "pass." But like... that means the character will always be as persuasive as the player. If the player isn't good at formulating an argument, the character won't be, either. Same with perception, investigation, etc. Sometimes, players just aren't good at picking up on hints and clues and/or they're not good at drawing conclusions from the clues they have. So that means that they can't play as a character who is?

Don't get me wrong, I get your point, I just find this is an issue worth thinking about. Why are things like athleticism, stealth, and combat prowess, or even things like lockpicking, hacking, or repairing stuff okay to abstract away as dice rolls, but deduction, perception, and maybe also persuasion and rhetoric aren't? Or, maybe the better, more constructive question: How would you propose handling a player playing a character whose skills exceed the player's?

I also think it's an issue worth thinking about, but I think "thinking about it" also has to involve asking the questions "why is this a problem?" and "is this ACTUALLY a problem?"

Like this discussion comes with the prepackaged assumption that allowing you to play a character whose abilities exceed yours as a player is both a) a universally desirable thing, and b) something that must be treated as a game design priority. And, with that assumption, it's logical to conclude that a TTRPG has an *obligation* to allow you to play a character whose abilities are not limited by yours as a player in any way, and not allowing you to do so constitutes a failure on the game's part.

But let's question that assumption a little bit. Because, the way I see it "allowing you to play a character who is good at X even if that's something that you, personally, are not good at" is not an inherently desirable design goal. It's a value-neutral feature, and it becomes a good or bad design goal to pursue depending on what X is and whether abstracting X so that the player doesn't have to engage with it benefits or detracts from the desired gameplay experience.

Let's for example, imagine a TTRPG with wargame elements, where, among other things to do, there are situations where your character can assume command of an army to engage in large-scale battles. It's pretty clear that, in such a game, you simply can't play as a character who is a better tactician than you, the player, are. If I'm not a good tactician, I don't get to play a character who's supposed to be the most brilliant tactician in all the land. That's simply not a character concept I get to play unless I am also skilled at tactical decision-making.

Is that inherently a problem to be solved? If we got rid of tactical decision-making as an activity that the players have to engage in, and instead gave the characters a "Tactics" skill and we used a Tactics skill check to determine whether they win or lose a battle, that would certainly allow a player who's bad at tactics the freedom to play a character who's the best tactician ever. But would this be an objectively good change? I'd say no, because it would skip past the entire point of the wargame elements, which is engaging as a player with the process of tactical decision-making, and that's not something that I'd consider worth sacrificing in pursuit of allowing the player to play a character whose skills exceed theirs in this particular aspect.

To name a more concrete example that someone else mentioned in the notes of that post: Mothership has no equivalent of a stealth skill, despite being a game where a lot of your playtime is spent hiding from some flavor of Scary Space Monster, because if the game abstracted stealth that way the resolution to any situation where you're trying to hide from a Scary Space Monster would be saying "I roll stealth" and hoping you roll high enough. Without a stealth skill, you're forced to participate in the narrative conversation of paying attention to the GM's description of the environment, ask clarifying questions if needed, and describe how you try to hide in the space presented to you.

This, once again, presents a situation where your character's skills are limited by your own. It's pretty clear that your character can only be as good at hiding as you are at thinking of places to hide and describing how they hide in them, and that if the game took the "i roll stealth" approach instead, it would solve the "problem" of your character's skills being limited by your own in this particular way. But is solving this "problem" worth sacrificing the tension that the game seeks to create by deliberately refusing to abstract stealth in this way?

So yeah... I think lacking skill checks for stuff such as perception or investigation makes a dungeon-crawling game better because it forces the players to narratively engage with the environment as a real place when they're looking for something, and it's also true that the lack of such mechanics kinda does mean that a player who just isn't good at picking up hints and clues from environmental details simply doesn't get to play a character who is supposed to be good at picking up hints and clues from environmental details. But I think that ensuring a player's ability to play such a character regardless of their real-life skill level is not a design goal that a game has any inherent obligation to pursue, especially not at the cost of skipping over the actions that, to me, are the meat and potatoes of a dungeon crawl.

My answer to "why is it okay to abstract certain skills as dice rolls and not others" is that games are allowed to make decisions about which actions they want to skip over with a dice roll and which actions they want the players to have to exercise direct narrative control and mastery of, and sometimes that's gonna interfere with their freedom to play a character whose skills exceed theirs, and that's okay because sometimes other game design goals are going to have priority over the goal of ensuring the character's skills aren't limited by the player's real-life skills in any conceivable way.

[writers-potion]

Storyediting Questions to Ask

As You Read the First Draft:

Are there place that surprised you as you read your first draft? - Why do you suppose that is? - Is there material there you'd like to expand?

What are the character really doing in this story? - Might they have issues you haven't explored fully yet?

Look to the places that drag. - These might be scenes where you have avoided dealing with something deeper. - What are the characters really thinking in these places? - What are their passions, frustrations, and desires?

Imagine alternative plotlines. - How might your plot be different if ti headed off on another tangent from various points in the story? - You don't have to follow them, but they might suggest other streams that can flow into the main plot.

Think About Structure:

Does you story play out naturally in three acts?

Is there an immediate disturbance to the Lead's world?

Does the first doorway of no return occur before the one-fifth mark?

Are the stakes being raised sufficiently?

Does the second doorway of no return put the Lead on the path to the climax?

Does the rhythm of the sotyr match your intent? If this is an action novel, does the plot move relentlessly forward? If this is a character-driven novel, do the scenes delve deeply enough?

Are there strongly motivated characters?

Have coincidence been established?

Is something happeing immediately at the beginning? Did you establish a person in a setting with a problem, onfronted with change or threat?

Is the timeline logical?

Is the story too predictable in terms of sequence? Should it be rearranged?

About Your Lead Character:

Is the character memorable? Compelling? Enough to carry a reader all the way through the plot?

A lead character has to jump off the page. Does yours?

Does this character avoid cliches? Is he capable of surprising us?

What's unique about the character?

Is the character's objective strong enough?

How does the character grow over the course of the story?

How does the character demonstrate inner strength?

About Your Opposition:

Is your oppositing character interesting?

Is he fully realized, not just a cardboard cutout?

Is he justified (at least in his own mind) in his actions?

Is he believable?

Is he strong as or stronger than the Lead?

About Your Story's Adhesive Nature:

Is the conflcit between the Lead and opposition crucial for both?

Why can't they just walk away? What holds them together?

About Your Scene:

Are the big scenes big enough? Surprising enough? Can you make them more original, unanticipated, and draw them out for all they are worth?

Is there enough conflict in the scenes?

What is the least memorable scene? Cut it!

What else can be cut in order to move the story relentlessly forward?

Does the climactic scene come too fast (through a writer fatigue)? Can you make it more, write it for all it's worth?

Does we need a new minor subplot to build up a saggin midsection?

About Your Minor Characters:

What is their purpose in the plot?

Are they unique and colorful?

Polishing Questions:

Are you hooking the reader from the beginning?

Are suspenseful scenes drawn out for the ultimate tension?

Can any information be delayed? This creates tension in the reader, always a good thing.

Are there enough surprises?

Are character-reaction scenes deep and interesting?

Read chapter ending for read-on prompts

Are there places you can replace describing how a character feels with actions?

Do I use visual, sensory-laden words?

For a Dialogue Read-Through:

Dialogue is almost always strengthened by cutting words within the lines.

In dialogue, be fair to both sides. Don't give one character all the good lines.

Greate dialogue surprises the reader and creates tension. View it like a game, where the players are trying to outfox each other.

Can you get more conflict into dialogue, even emong allies?

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[trulyhblue]

Bf Leah being wound up after a bad game and takes control. Smut pls!!!!

BLED BLUE

leah williamson x chelsea! reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, humiliation, dom/sub dynamics, age gap (legal + consensual), hate sex, enemies w/ benefits, rough, coarse language.

________________

Part of you wondered how long it would take Leah to take you home. There was not an ounce of blue in her body, taken only by the lifelong allegiance to North London, but the thought of you, a blue-born Chelsea girl, taking up the space under her sheets, was addictive.

Chelsea were the better team. Always was, and always will be. The Blues were better at everything. Their players were more advanced, their game plans had been executed to perfection. Arsenal were sloppy, poor, and unjust. It was embarrassing to the point where it stood out as entertaining to you. Seeing the almighty, reigning Arsenal fall on their knees and succumb to the superiority of your team was endearing, and you found yourself searching for the thrill increasingly more as the game progressed.

And the sight of the woman you hated oh so much angered by the defeated notion of the final whistle was your idea of an indescribable victory.

“What a shame, Williamson.” You snagged, clutching the fabric at your hips, looking down at her bent figure. “I thought you’d play well.”

“Ah, it is you.” She replied with just as much spite. “I thought I saw someone falling flat on their face. Makes sense now that I know it was you.”

You smirked, folding your arms over your chest. “Yeah, tried to show my humility… y’know, after scoring two goals tonight I thought it was only necessary.”

Leah scoffed, straightening her posture to display her authoritative height over you. “Both off deflections… sounds brilliant.”

“Player of the match worthy.” You bit back, stepping forward, pressing your chest against hers, suppressing the heat in your face. “Don't worry, I’ll make sure to credit your own goal in the interview.”

“Always have an excuse to talk about me. Can't stop, can you?”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I don't think of you.” Leah shook her head, grabbing the hem of your shorts and fiddling with them persistently. “But if I did, I’d be sure to let you know.”

“If only I cared enough to hear it.” You tutted, not really caring about the openness of your situation. The stadium was still quite full, with both of your teammates lingering on the field. Fans were banking the barricade, no doubt looking for the two of you.

“I could tell you now if you’d like.”

“Aw, are you thinking of me now, Williamson?”

You felt Leah’s hand move to the inside of your thigh, pressing a tight pinch to gain any type of reaction from you. Biting your lip, you hoped that the post-game redness covered your blush.

“I bet you love the thought of people watching this, don't you?” She asked, glaring at you with such hatred that her words felt bittersweet. “Always so desperate for attention that you’d do it in front of everyone. Fucking needy.”

“You’re the one touching me.” In anger, you snapped. You didn't like the way Leah seemed so confident, so right in what she was saying. You wanted to be right. You were the one who won it for your team. You were better than her. She needed to realise that.

The only separation between the two of you was by your arms crossed over your chest. Leah was drawing furious patterns along your thigh, pressed up against you with her face above you, your height earning her to look down.

“Pull away then.” She uttered, now pulling you into a hug. You knew this would send fans into a spiral. Everybody knew about your rivalry with Leah. It was evident in the tackles, the cards, the teams, the games, the interactions. This was unclaimed territory. You had both teased each other after the games. There was always fire and spite, anger and resentment, but never contact. She told you to pull away, and by the tension that lingered, if you did she would let you have there was something else there. You felt it between your legs, running down your spine, making your core yearn.

It was in the way she kept her hand in between your thighs, deepening her fingers just below where you needed her most. She held you tight, closing any physical gap, forcing your arms to circle her waist as she wrapped her spare arm around the name on the back of your shoulders. You don't know why, but you held her back just as tight, breathing heavily when she started moving her fingers upwards.

“So tense.” She spat, rubbing your shoulder.

You shook her arm off, keeping the contact but still resistant. “I pulled it at training, of course it is.”

“Wasn't talking about your shoulder, baby.” She chuckled, her voice sending goosebumps down your neck. “In those thighs. Clenching them so hard and I'm hardly touching ‘em.”

That was when you knew your cheeks were burning.

There was a hint of humiliation in your tone, but your anger was still prevalent. “I didn't even notice your hand.”

“Yeah, alright.” Williamson grinned, pulling away. You felt the cold air nip your cheeks at the sudden loss of contact. Her fingers were no longer soothing the ache in between your legs. “Alright, baby, no, all that flushed cheeks from the big game, hm? Breathing so heavily cause you scored two goals, is that you’re so wet for me?”

“I’m not— you're so—”

Leah stepped away again, and you were too stupid to step forward in response. “God, is that what you're gonna sound like in the interview? You a mess, Baby, really. All flustered and red.”

“I'm not red.” You snapped. “And stop calling me baby. You're only four years older than me.”

Leah could see straight through you. “But you love that though.” She saw straight past your visible persona. “Why don't you show me how mature you are then? Can't call you baby if you prove that you're not.” She could tell by your flustered state, your wide eyes and your tainted disposition that you were struggling to handle the conversation.

“I don't need to prove anything to you. I just won the match. That's enough to prove that I'm better anyway.”

“But you needed help to get there, didn't you?” She retorted. “It’s not your name on the score sheet, it's mine. Look,” she pointed up to the screen, almost condescendingly, above the stands, where WILLIAMSON (OG) was printed boldly in white below the score. “All that hard work and I still get the mention.”

There was a fight for dominance, but the fight was so clearly won when you audibly gulped, unable to come up with just enough answer to compel yourself into a deeper state of anger. If anything, you were willing to resort to forbidding, but you were stubborn and bled blue.

“You’re just mad that you lost and we won. Chelsea was always better anyway, and you were just too slow… bet that's always the case.”

Leah’s jaw clicked, her lips settling into a thin line.

“In what case?” She muttered distinctly.

“You know what case.” You failed to notice the challenge, finding yourself in a superior position of confidence to realise the hole you were digging for yourself. “Slow and boring… on and off the pitch. You definitely get around, but you never seem to see one person twice. Maybe that's because they don't want to see you.”

Leah grabbed your wrist, yanking you off the field. It was a tradition that you would see the fans after every game, so you tugged back in retaliation.

She pivoted to face you, glaring at you with so much affliction that you yearned for more.

“You seem really interested in how I ‘get around’. Sounds like you wish it was you.”

No matter how hard your body was willing to succumb to her words, you stood firm by scoffing, rolling your eyes at her cockiness. “If only I was so desperate.”

“I’ll show you just how desperate I can get you.” The captain spat, holding your forearm now, easily leading you further down the tunnel where fans or players could no longer find you. “Didn't even properly touch you before and you were a needy mess.”

“You’re always so fucking sure of yourself, aren't you, Williamson?” You snapped back, hearing the clad of your boots fail to drown out your ungrateful tone. You did not care for what Leah was so keen to impress you with. Never had anyone told you that Leah did not impress. She was determined to make sure everyone was supplied with the right things for their needs. She valued giving pleasure over receiving. But if there was one thing she hated, it was brats like you.

You stood outside the Chelsea changing rooms, your kit still adorned on your figure.

“Go get your shit.” She snarled, letting go of your arm and jabbing you forward.

You scoffed, stopping dead in your tracks. “And what? You're gonna wait for me and drop me home? I have a license, Williamson, I'm not your fucking—”

You couldn't finish your rant, yelping when Leah cut you off, grabbing the collar of your shirt and mashing her lips against yours. One of her legs found its way between yours, her knee pushing against your core. A moan fell from your lips, and the woman wasted no time in slipping her tongue in, caging your figure between you and the wall.

She waited until you were kissing her back before grabbing your neck. She instantly moved down to litter harsh kisses down the nape of your neck, using her hands to move underneath your shirt, massaging your breasts. You were a mess beneath her, breathing heavily when the pressure on your clit intensified when her knee started rubbing patterns up and down.

“Swear at me again and see how it turns out for you.” She muttered in your ear, relishing the whines that fell from your lips as her knee continued its work. “If I tell you to grab your bag, that's what you do, yeah? You understand, Chelsea?”

The nickname left you shrinking, her words making your core glisten. You weren't completely sure whether the Arsenal girl was planning on taking you home. You didn't understand why you were all of a sudden pretty much moaning at the friction of her knee.

But you weren't fucking complaining.

“My teammates are in there.”

Leah let out a laugh. “You had no problem letting me touch you in a filled Stanford Bridge, Babygirl. I think it’d be healthy if your teammates realised who fucks their Stargirl after a home game.”

“You haven't fucked me, yet.” Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the thought of the England captain fucking you sending you into a spiral.

“Go get your bag and then I can use that pretty mouth for something other than moaning my last name… not that I mind when you do that.”

You wasted no time in doing as you were told, forever thankful that all of your teammates were either still interacting with fans or showering. You grabbed all of your stuff and quickly followed Leah over to the away changing rooms.

She let you walk through, since none of the girls were present, grabbing your belongings and chucking them inside her cubby. You felt her figure cage you back into the nearest wall, her hands how playing with the hem of your shirt, inching it further up your waist until it was completely disregarded, and you were left in your sports bra and shorts.

“Why so quiet?” Leah asked, kissing down the column of your neck, fondling your breasts. You sighed at the growing ache in your core, throwing your head back when Leah’s knee came back into contact with your clit.

“Some— someone’s going to walk in.”

Leah snorted. “Like you would mind.”

You huffed, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her head further down your body. Leah’s knee stopped in return, leaving you writhing at the loss of pressure.

“Use your words or you can get off yourself.”

“Like you could get me off.” You retorted.

“I don't make brats cum.” She spat, moving back up to tower over you. “I edge them until they’re desperate and getting themself off my thigh. I treat them like brats, and maybe you need to work a little fucking harder for what you want.”

“You were just teasing me!”

“You're just desperate.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Leah.” There it was. Music to her ears.

“What?”

You whined, using your hips to drag yourself along her knee.

“What was that, Baby? Couldn't hear you under all those whines.”

“Leah, c’mon.” You stated potently, getting more impatient by the minute. “I'm not begging.”

The number six shrugged, looking down at you with wide, innocent eyes like she had no clue what you were going on about. Like she didn't even realise that you were humping her leg longing for some relief.

“Begging for what?” She moved her finger painstakingly down your chest, tracing your abs ever so slowly.

“For you.”

“For me?” She questioned, feigning confusion. Her hand dipped into the waistband of your shorts, circling your clit over your underwear. “Answer me, Darling. What do you want me to do? I'm touching you.”

“Touch me more.”

Leah tutted, moving her hand away. You groaned, throwing your head back when no pleasure was offered. “I'm afraid that's not how you ask. It might get you somewhere at Chelsea, but at Arsenal, we treat our Captains with respect. Even our star girls use their manners in the North end.”

“Touch me more, please.”

“Where, Chelsea?” Leah moved closer to you, peeling off her own shirt, removing your shorts, leaving you in your underwear and bra. “Be a good girl and tell me where.” She asked, her body lowering itself closer to the ground. You watched her kneel before you, hands gripping your waist, kneading your hips, lips biting your inner thigh.

“My clit, Lee, please. I need you to touch me there.”

“Such a good girl for your Captain, aren't you?” Leah ran her tongue along your folds, your underwear pooled at your feet. Your legs were swung over her shoulders, your hands buried in her hair, pulling taunt to her ponytail and the hairs that had fallen out during the game. Your moans were still muffled by the bite in your lips, the nerves of someone hearing your desperation for your enemy is still evident in the way you kept your mouth shut.

It was when Leah’s tongue latched onto your clit, sucking harshly on the swollen bud that your noises fell so adamantly from your reddened lips. You felt Leah’s cocky smile, her chuckles sending vibrations of pleasure through your body.

“Sound so pretty, Baby.”

“Leah— fuck, Lee. I'm gonna—”

“You’re going to hold it. Taste so good, you can wait.”

The coil in your stomach was forming long before Leah had even started, and the more Leah attacked your bud, the more your orgasm led to burst. Your moans had doubled in volume when one of her hands came up to play with your nipple, pinching it and playing with the nub every time her tongue licked up your folds. Her other hand worked its way through your pussy, spreading your slick all over your thighs, letting it run down your shaking legs and make your skin glisten with the glossy arousal.

“Want Stanford to hear you,” Leah spoke from below you. You whined at the thought. You were in a state of pure bliss that all cautionary thoughts of interruption were so far gone. All you could think about was Leah’s face between your legs.

“Feels so good, Lee. Want to cum so bad for you.”

“You can hold it, baby.”

“Mh, Lee, please.”

Leah moaned at your whines, nuzzling her nose up against your clit, pinching your nipple hard, reeling at the moan you let out in response. She saw the way your hole clenched around nothing, smirking at the way you rolled your hips across her face, working your pussy into her mouth so easily. She felt powerful knowing she had you at her disposal. You were stunning always, but there was something about you now that set Leah off. It made her angry knowing that you weren't hers to fuck at her discretion. It made her protective over you in ways she had never felt before. You were Chelsea’s protege — everyone worried when going up against you.

“Leah.”

It wasn't like something had changed, but Leah had realised that her hate was actually protection and adoration. She wanted you for herself. She wanted to steer you away from anyone that would hurt you. She hated Chelsea, she despised the West side more than anything, and it wasn't the sex that made her realise this.

“Leah.”

It was her name coming from your lips.

“Cum for me, Baby.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were barreling over the edge, your legs relying entirely on the strength of Leah’s upper body to keep you balanced. Your moans exemplified the stimulation of your orgasm riding out, and Leah’s endeavours to lick the result of it up as it poured into her mouth and onto your thighs.

The woman made sure you had somewhat caught your breath before she moved, having a moment to catch her own breath and comprehend what just happened. When she knew you were able to stand independently, she moved over to her cubby, grabbing the baby wipes she always had handy, moving back down to her knees to clean the mess across your legs as you covered your chest back with your jersey, and later your shorts.

Leah moved to do the same, except she watched as you fumbled with what to do. She gave you a pointed look as if to question your thinking, and you simply sighed and waddled over to her, slight humiliation at your wobbly legs painting your cheeks as you grabbed your bag.

“You all good, Baby?” She asked, her voice no longer authoritative and rather empathetic.

“Yeah, thanks.” You nodded. “Erm… sorry for being… rude… actually I'm not sorry but I am.”

“Yeah, same,” Leah replied a cheeky grin settled on her complexion. “I think we can settle for friendly rivalry from now on.”

“If that's what you call this, then sure.” You added, laughing along with what to make of the situation, feeling more out of place than ever in the middle of the Arsenal room. “I better go.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Lee, I've got my license—”

“It wasn't a question, Chelsea.”

You stood there defeated, knowing internally that you had no way home after Millie had driven you to the stadium and would have left by now anyway. Leah must’ve known that by the way she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her chest.

“Besides, wouldn't want that Player of The Match Trophy getting forgotten now, would we?”

_________________

A/N — bad ending but oh well… HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

[hellsslibrary]

PLEASPELALEPLARE SAY THAT YOU PLAY IN DOL??? I NEED HEADCANONS FOR THAT BITCHES ASAP WITH MALE TOP READER BECAUSE I FIXKUNG HATE FEM READERS ONE AAAAAAHADHHRHSS (SORRY I'M NOT ENGLISH BUT PLEASE)

Damn, imagine if we were mermaids and you had a dick with spikes, and I had a vagina like the Mariana Trench and ... (quotes from my husband day I adore him)

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : see how desperate the person is? Gotta satisfy them, or their uterus/dick will explode and it will be my fault. Never thought I'd get a DoL request, but fuck yeah. Please give me more DoL requests.

Characters: School Love Interests (you're here), Other Love Interests (coming soon)

!!Warnings: switch!top!gn!reader (male leaned, although options with vaginas and penises are mentioned and reader is they/them and he like two times), bottom!characters (there are both cis and trans versions here, since I headcanon some of them as such, tho pronounces are he/him), honestly there are too many of them, considering the game itself is built. So the are below all the characters. Whitney's part has a bottom!reader clause, but it's marked so you don't have to read it (my husband extraterrestrialized this and I said hell yeah), reader is the player.

Kylar the Loner.

!!Warnings: pregnancy, size difference, mention of kidnapping, bondage, role playing, dirty talk, smells, underwear stealing, humping, mention of full body pillow, erotic drawing, he is delulu yandere.

My sweet cupcake, what can I say about you, honestly... It seems to me that he definitely should have a kink for the difference in size. Like, even with the smallest player's physique, he's still only a little taller??? And considering that with the biggest player, he looks like Thumbelina, you can't say that he doesn't. This guy was definitely fantasizing about how a player would pin him to something with this huge body (or a small body too, you'll be stronger than this guy anyway, it seems to me... If he's not hysterical, of course, hehe).

His hygiene definitely improved after he met the player. Like, just to impress them and not look like a mess (he's still a mess). So he definitely has a fucking jungle in his pants. And he's quite comfortable with it, although if you ask him to remove them, then of course he will. But yes. The tough, black jungle is right there. He's VERY hairy.

Uh, if we're going to talk about penis size, then it seems to me that he has an amazingly large penis for his height. Would I say about 7.3 inches? It's also curved to the left, because that's how I feel. If we're talking about pussy, I think it's surprisingly pale compared to the rest of his body, and he has a surprisingly large clitoris on his own. And if you're a genius like me and you're choosing tirs for a male character, then fuck, he's got a C-cup (there's a lot that could be hiding under his hoodie, lol).

Definitely the most talkative during sex. He's also whiny, especially the first time he loses his virginity (and especially if the player is also a virgin). Fuck, the king of dirty talk!!! It may be very strange, nasty and focused on how you impregnate him (or vise versa), but no one could talk to you like that, he could write you a fanfiction while riding on your dick and at the same time manage to hack into the Pentagon and brew spicy noodles and would not see any problems in it.

I think he has sensitive ears. Do you know this dialogue where he says that the player's ears are not as sensitive as in his dream??? Usually dreams reflect reality (I don't believe in this heresy, but I need a reason), therefore someone must have sensitive ears and it's definitely him, if not the player. I can just imagine how he would twitch and blush if you could bite his ear and whisper something there.

An unequivocal fetish for smells. Are you saying he's stealing the player's underwear for nothing??? Absolutely not. I doubt very much that he uses it on his genitals, as he thinks that the smell will be erased sooner, so he practically suffocates himself in the fabric, inhaling this smell. Even if the player smells like grandma, or absolutely disgusting like garbage, or like something sickly sweet right up to the point of getting sick in the head, it's still the best smell in the world (as long as it's not the smell of someone else's sperm).

Role-playing games??? This guy literally played some kind of wedding with us after the kidnapping. He was also literally acting in a skit (even if not in the role he wanted). He would definitely be a fan of this thing. And would especially love something old-fashioned or fantasy!! Type vampire × human, aristocrat × servant, vampire × werewolf. And something else where the player's attention will be completely on him, as well as in the dominant plan (he likes it when the player takes control, come on), such as policeman × criminal, concubine × king, husband × husband/wife (these two were invented by my hubby, lol still true).

He definitely has something to do with bondage (you can't say no, this guy literally tied up a player in his basement and rode on their dick/fucked them and whatever else). And he would definitely like to be tied up by a player, especially if the player is already many times stronger and could break him like a match. Although it's fucking nice for him to keep himself in power, too.

He would definitely like the same things that his partner would like. It doesn't matter how dangerous or vile it may be (without examples, everyone has their own degree of understanding of this). But fuck, seriously. You could say, like, "listen, I want to have sex in a swamp that's probably home to fifteen thousand different deadly bacteria, but you'd look too fucking sexy in mud," and he wouldn't hear anything except the part after the "but."

He would have loved humping. It doesn't matter what it is. Are you telling me that this person has a full-height player's pillow and he has never rubbed against it??? And didn't attach a dildo/flashlight to it??? Fuck, absolutely not. He'd love to rub his genitals against something, especially if it's not a player's thing, just so he can imagine how their skin would feel under them and all that.

He would cum in seconds (in my game, he cums in just two or three actions from the player????). Seriously, he would cum even without stimulation in the initial stages, just from the voice or from the overly sexy look of the player in front of him. His poor virgin brain would just explode.

He loves to draw a player in erotic poses or situations (canonically) and show them this. And then play it back, especially if the player himself reduces it by saying, like, "Oh, it looks sexy. Do you want to repeat it?" He will literally melt into a puddle.

Would never admit it, but he loves it when a player kisses/licks/strokes his scars, bruises and scratches. He doesn't find these parts of himself attractive, so what if his partner did it?.. Ka-sploosh!

And finally, the strange headcanon! I think he has a birthmark somewhere that slightly resembles the silhouette of a player... To make him believe even more in fate, love at first sight, and all that.

Sydney (nevermind which).

!!Warnings: body writing, mention of body fluids, reading as erotic event, size difference, hair pulling, pregnancy, cum on the face, semi public sex, sex in clothes, mention of mythical creatures, sadomaso kinda, wax.

So. Let's talk about Sydney as a whole, since his "personalities" differ only in their overall "emancipation"!

An unequivocal one hundred percent fetish for writing on the body, canonical, yes. But why doesn't anyone talk about it? No one wants such a handsome man to write all sorts of things on them??? Absolutely anything, because he would have written anything if the player had asked politely. And I would let him write anything on me if I were you, I'll be honest, especially those stupid emoticons. >:(

Not exactly sexy, but intimate! If a player had a lot of tattoos, they would definitely like to paint them over, like coloring books for children. I thought it was cute, so let it be here.

Canonically loves the taller player, so... The library, his desk, the evening, the two of you, he's sitting on the counter, you're pressing him against it, pawing him, kissing him, it doesn't matter what you do there, as long as he clings to you, while staring at you with those beautiful amber eyes.

Incredibly caring after sex, when he gets used to it all. He will definitely make sure that the player is satisfied and has finished as much as he wanted, he will definitely hug and praise the player if they need to, feed or drink the player if necessary and wash too. He will absolutely fall in love three times more if they do it in return.

During sex? Even better. The guy would definitely bring you to orgasm with his mouth/fingers/toys/friction, that is, without penetration, at least once. Unambiguous additional stimulation if you need it and when he learns your erogenous points. One hundred percent praise to any side of your body if you find it unattractive.

He loves it when they cum on his face. Anyone with glasses likes it when they cum on their face, I said so (I know it's hard to rub it off afterwards, but anyway). Especially at the beginning, after he loses his virginity and he gives head to the player and when they finally cum, he blushes so incredibly hard from it. He probably cries a little too when he realizes that he's going to make the player cum.

He's not a fan of dirty talk in my opinion, especially early Sydney, but he would love it if a player whispered something to him about the future. That is, giving him a hint about something long-term, even if you whispered to him that he was going to get pregnant, even though he was a cis man, it would still be sweet.

I came up with the idea of a fetish, the name of which I don't remember, but fuck... Imagine reading books during sex??? Especially in terms of roles??? Especially if you both get in each other's way while reading your piece??? It's hot. He definitely likes it, especially since he has a pleasant voice, it should be good.

So, let's talk about genitals! The penis is definitely not too outstanding, since the guy has spent in a chastity belt practically all life so about 5 inches. If we're talking about pussy, then definitely tiny labia and the same tiny clitoris. If we talk about tits... A-cup? Maybe a B-cup? They're small but not tiny.

He definitely doesn't bother with his hair much, because before his relationship with the player, he literally wore iron underpants, lol. But he adheres to hygiene absolutely, and his hair is also completely shaved off after the start of the relationship.

I think he likes being pulled by his hair. Not much. They just tilt his head back during penetration, hold his hair during kissing/oral sex, and just stroke his head.

A canonical masochist, albeit a hidden one. Plus, he's a sadist. So.... Listen to me. Wax. I fucking want to drip something on this guy's body or have him do it, it doesn't matter. He would tremble so much, trying not to show how much he liked it, even though he was absolutely flowing during the process from a pleasant mixture of pain and pleasure.

Theoretically speaking, he would agree to a lot as long as it's not too traumatic, too public and as long as it doesn't contain any bodily fluids other than saliva and semen (he canonically despises blood... And everything else, yes).

And of course, his canonical pregnancy kink (why does everyone in this game want a baby, I'm crying, except Avery of course). Definitely, his pupils will turn into hearts if one of you can get pregnant (if not, then I think it will be easy to convince him that this is possible, because he is a very stupidly smart person).

Sex in clothes??? For some reason, it seems to me that he would like to look at the outlines of the player's body or at his own if they were in front of a mirror, for example. Just imagine what's underneath those layers of fabric, even if he's seen it all many times.

Semi-public sex. And no, not just the canonical library and the mall (I'm still disappointed that he can't be fucked somewhere on the beach or in a temple, not under certain conditions). He would worry that someone would see you, try to be incredibly quiet, cling to you as if you were the only thing holding him in life.

By the way, he's probably the quietest of the four. Most of time he just breathe heavily, maybe he whisper prayers or something about how well he feel. It's quite difficult to get full-fledged moans out of him.

Well, it's a strange hedcanon for my favorites... Would you definitely think of the player as some kind of mythical creature? It doesn't matter if it's sexy or not, just the fact that his brain slides to the player's body in the form of some vampire, ending with some nonsense with tentacles, and then realizing arousal and hoping that the player will enter the library today sounds funny.

Robin the Orphan.

!!Warnings: forest sex, bathroom sex, mutual masturbation, cockwarming, nipple play, voyeurism, mention of bruises.

It will probably be the most difficult, because he is very... A controversial character. I love him, but he fucking annoys me sometimes. Does a guy literally get offended if he loses a game or if a player pushes him away when trying to have sex with high confidence??? He's sweet, but what the fuck is that. I'm still taking his debt on myself though, considering he's probably the most adequate of them all.

Well, it doesn't matter. Let's start with the food kink? The guy is poor in his own way. So imagine if he ever sees a player's body strewn with even the cheapest snacks or sweets. The guy will literally explode on the spot. Even if it's just plain whipped cream.

Mmm, also role-playing games. These silly dialogues where we talk about the characters of some video game that they both play gave me this idea, especially considering that they mean each other there. So of course the captain player will fuck this elf or whoever it is.

He's definitely a voyeur. It doesn't matter if he's watching or if he's being watched (only by the player, of course). It just relaxes to some extent, and the trust, and just taking the shackles off those cheap clothes on him.

He has a habit of biting the player's genitals when he gives them oral sex. He doesn't quite bite, but he chews, touches it lightly with his teeth. I'm not sure how it feels on a vagina, but on a dick? For me personally, it feels good, especially if that little bitch giggles at it.

The quietest during sex. He canonically doesn't even speak during it, lol (hopefully he'll learn one day). He probably just buries his face in the player's shoulder, hugging them, or buries his face in a pillow and just enjoys the sensations, breathing heavily.

I feel like he would really hate to sit still during this. That is, he would not be able to stay in the same position for a long time, or would not be able to tolerate for a long time if, for example, you rubbed against each other for several minutes without doing anything else. He would constantly try to turn you over or do something else.

A huge fan of jerking off. Mutual jerking off especially! He loves to put his feet on the player's hips while they rub their cocks against each other. He would have finished as quickly as possible from this. (This also works if you don't have a dick or he doesn't have a dick; he or you could get your dick lost on another's vagina, or scrissoring, of course)

A fan of outdoor sex!! I love the picnic event in the game, so... He will feed you deliciously (sandwiches with tea), and then he will throw you on the blanket and do whatever you want together. He just loves all this scenic beauty of forests, lakes and just vegetation everywhere.

Cockwarming... During the game... It would calm him down! He feels your cock inside him (or vice versa), feels this warmth, fullness, you are next to him and for some reason the game becomes easier and for some strange reason he becomes focused.

So, the genitals... The penis is definitely bent down, the head is very thick, the penis itself is thin, about 5.7 inches in size. If we're talking about a pussy, it's quite ordinary, but he would have large labia and a mole on them. Little tits... B-cup. Unambiguous. And he would also have very attractive puffy nipples.

And speaking of nipples. I think they're pretty damn sensitive. He loves when a player's fingers or tongue are on his boobs, squeezing the muscles there, and then squeezing those rosebuds, causing him a familiar knot in his stomach.

His pubic hair is fine. They are not particularly neat, but they are trimmed, he more than observes hygiene, everything is fine there. And his hair is surprisingly soft there, so everything is fine!!

The idea came up right now about strangulation. In my opinion, he would have liked it if the player had held his neck while they were doing this (maybe squeezed if Robin was completely relaxed). Although this kink will immediately disappear if he survives the abduction that occurs if you do not take on Robin's debt.

Sex in the bathroom!! I really like this scene. And Robin, too. He sees you completely naked, just for him, surrounded by water and foam, while you wash each other, fuck, and then wash each other again. Well, what could be better?

Loves body-to-body sex. Well, for example, where you or he are lying on top of each other or where you are hugging and your bodies are almost one hundred percent touching. It brings him the necessary and incredible comfort.

One more small clarification about voyeurism. The idea came up now that he would like it if a player watched him finger himself/jerk off. He would have come from this at the speed of light or faster (with high confidence, though, he would have put on a show at the same time).

He loves it when a player leaves light bruises of their hands. No hickeys or bites. It's the handprints. He finds them very attractive and a sign that the player fucking wanted him so much that they couldn't control their grip (your back would say the same thing about him lol).

And the strange headcanon, of course! He probably read some silly facts in history textbooks and asked the player to repeat them. And the player read the facts from biology... And of course they repeated them too! Not meiosis and mitosis, of course, and certainly not budding, but it's also an exciting activity with a cardio load!!

Whitney the Bully.

!!Warnings: size difference, praise kink, humiliation kink, riding, face sitting, mention of tattoos and piercings, fetish on virginity (?), maths (trust me, it's sexy), oral sex, mention of sex toys, BDSM, home porn, nudes.

My favorite cruel blonde is here, and we'll start big, of course. He would probably agree to any adventure that the player would suggest (it's kind of like even canon). Do you want to make him up and crossdress him? Please do it. Do you want to hug him or literally squeeze him like a plush toy in public? Oh, go on. But he will definitely fuck the life out of you afterwards.

He probably doesn't have an absolutely strict "no". If you want something, you'll get it, with his permission, of course. Starting with a threesome, ending with the strangest, most horrible, disgusting scene you can imagine.

There is a hidden kink for praise. He will necessarily blush too much if a player sincerely praises him during sex (especially if it is something external, given that he is not sure about his appearance). It will only make his actions faster, but damn it, he'll like it and it's obvious.

A hidden romantic somewhere in the depths of his soul. He would sincerely enjoy the most ordinary vanilla sex from time to time (VERY rarely), where both of you just relax and fuck lying on the bed while he hugs one of his plush toys.

He is literally "the best sucker" in the game. He literally has an oral fixation. And probably a tongue piercing, because it's hot and suits him very well. Would give you such a wildly pleasant blowjob / cunnilingus/ rimming that your legs would then shake for a few more minutes.

Although he loves it when you do it. Even if you're a total virgin and absolutely don't know how to suck dick/eat pussy, he'll just love your enthusiasm for it. If you're lucky, he'll even cum from it or try on the role of a teacher and teach you where to put your tongue, fingers, where it's better to press, how and so on.

Face sitting!!! I want him to strangle me with his hips, my God.... Absolutely enjoys the sight of your face sinking between his thighs and would absolutely not mind drowning between yours, even if you are many times heavier/bigger (he is the epitome of the meme "he sat on my face and broke my neck").

Loves to hold grab the player by the waist. In non-intimate moments, his hand is most likely there (or on the player's ass lol). In intimate moments, he mostly grabs the sides / stomach of the player, because he likes him. It doesn't matter if you're overweight, if you're chiseled like an Adonis, or if it's just a waistline, he loves it.

He definitely has a thing for people with piercings or tattoos. Especially if they are intimate. That is, the piercings of the navel, penis / pussy / ass, nipples, tongue. Or tattoos on the lower back, ass, chest, genitals (and there are such things, yes).

He is the most unashamed LI, because he would do it anywhere, anytime, he absolutely does not care who is there and who is not there, he must do it. The player looks too sweet to resist.

The genitals!! The cock is very thick, VERY THICK. Although by itself it is slightly above average, maybe about 6.2 inches. The pussy is very beautiful (yes, I think he has an attractive pussy, but what?), probably a small clitoris. Tits... Either A-cup or D-cup, there is no between.

Hair... I don't think he has a lot of hair there in general, and he doesn't take much care of it, although he shaves it off when it becomes uncomfortable. But his hygiene is impeccable (do you have any idea how many people he fucks?).

Of course, everyone understands perfectly well that he has a kink for humiliating the player. But imagine what would happen if he praised them. It's just that one day it would slip out that the player is a "good boy" at a certain point in their sex and the player would come out of surprise (sorry, funny). He would use it later, very rarely, but so accurately.

Virgins turn him on. Or just people who don't know anything about sex. Well, more precisely, a player, he would hardly fuck with someone for one night who doesn't know what they're doing at all. So he's really turned on by all this, these pathetic attempts, these first successes, these first reactions and results, well, fucking sweet.

(Bottom!reader) My husband came up with a trick. You know, if he has a vagina (no matter what gender he is), he always wears a strap-on, or almost always. He has a huge collection of them, which he stole canonically from a sex shop and damn it, sooner or later he uses them.

Absolutely loves to ride a dick. Especially if the penis is huge or tiny. It just gives him a sense of some kind of pleasant satisfaction that he can hold onto something so huge or something so small, while still getting pleasure and delivering it in return.

A teaser to the core. He will play with your nipples, genitals, erogenous zones, will constantly kiss you, leave marks, rub against you, but will not give you what you needed until you take it yourself or start begging him.

I think he's a BDSM fan. Especially the dom/sub aspects, because he just loves to bend the player to his will, and of course he loves it even more if the player does it himself. If he's in love, he can switch roles if you want, he's not picky, but he'll still be bossy one way or another.

Uh, he'd be a fan of home videos. He would never show them to anyone, because they are only for his eyes, he just likes to watch them from time to time. Or your photos too, when you cum, fuck him or something like that.

He would love it if the player had a huge ass. He absolutely loves kneading it between his fingers, watching as it takes the shape of his palms. Would constantly slap it at any convenient or inconvenient moment.

A hidden kink for the size difference? He loves his partners bigger and taller. He likes to bend them to his feet, keeping the player on a leash (literally or not), even if they are high-rise compared to him.

And of course our favorite category. He loves to ask the player questions from time to time during sex, especially if they are barely thinking and the questions jump from "2+2?" to "find the minimum of the function y=x²-563x-89=0". Of course, he punishes the player in some way if they answer incorrectly, even if they understand that they will answer incorrectly. But if by some miracle they guess, then he will fulfill some of their requests.

[zivazivc]

Not exactly a character sheet but something akin to it... an all around sound reveal/analysis for my punk funk guy

yapping on top of yapping under the cut:

Les's musical style is a wide range that typically leans heavily into funk metal or punk rock, or both!, although he is quick to get inspired by other genres too. In general he likes music that sounds at least a little droll and unexpected. I hope the selection of albums I compiled can paint you a good idea of it (because I sure as hell don't know what I'm doing!).

He is, first and foremost, a bass player and he's very good at it. Heavy funky slapping and popping is prominent in his music as is usual in funk music in general. He's got an old (ugly) second-hand bass guitar, that he cherishes like it's his baby. He could probably save an get a cooler-looking one for the stage but that in itself is uncool in his book.

He's also not so bad with the trumpet too, doesn't own one though, so he only plays it when he gets a chance. He learned to play it from his uncle Adewale.

Singing on the other hand is not his forte; he doesn't have super impressive vocals plus he's holding himself back. His singing style sounds droll and kind of jaded (often even deadpan and monotone although thought out and not lazy in any way), and closer to speak-singing. Big reason for that is that genuine honest singing makes him feel vulnerable in an uncomfortable way he's not willing to face, and it hints at a possibility for emotional release he very much prefers to not see happen. Y'know, singing is therapeutic and he doesn't want the therapy. 🥲

He typically balances out his singing with sarcastic/dramatic lyrics or unusual storytelling that keep his true thoughts and feelings well encrypted under layers of metaphors and allegories (subconsciously or intentionally) — which funnily enough makes him a very clever lyricist. But he doesn't put any of it down and has no interest in joining Hed and Floyd with writing songs for the band.

His singing VA is John McCrea from Cake, and when I say this I mean from the sound of his singing voice, all the way down to how he delivers his lines and the lyrics themselves. ':) More examples: 1, 2, 3. (I put only two of their albums on the drawing but honestly Cake has so many good Les songs.)

NoMeansNo is a close second when it comes to lyrics, but they're more like vent songs for Les, when you catch him in a weird angry/depressed mood. I also really like that band's prominent use of the bass, it's not very funky but it scratches my Les itch very much.

Butthole Surfers' songs have good Les lyrics too, although those are more "him singing about weird hallucinations while high out of his mind" or when he wants to be shocking for the sake of being shocking. That band is just weird overall, I like the singers southern drawl though. I'm still on board the idea of Les and Hed having a bit of a southern US accent.

Incubus is an amazing band overall but their first two albums are such a good flavor of funk metal and early band experimentality. Their singer is really good in regards to the word intonation I imagine Les having, he's too skilled for Les to keep up with in some parts though. 😅

I think the perfect Les sound would be some kind of chimera of these four bands... or maybe not, maybe that would sound terrible. XD

But still, to get a feel for Les's sound overall you have to give all of the examples below a listen, or at least the ones I put in bold.

- The albums featured in the drawing ↴

Incubus - S.C.I.E.N.C.E.

NoMeansNo - 0 + 2 = 1

Cake - Comfort Eagle

Incubus - Fungus Amongus

Beck - Odelay

The Damage Manual - The Damage Manual

Primus - Sailing the Seas of Cheese

Cake - Motorcade of Generosity

Fungo Mungo - Humungous

NoMeansNo - Wrong

Butthole Surfers - Electriclarryland

L.A.P.D. - L.A.P.D.

Bonus "Lena" album:

13. Jack Off Jill - Clear Hearts Grey Flowers

[itsnesss]

okay so namgyu x reader bathroom scene but like INTENSE

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 | nam-gyu (player 124) × fem!reader

summary | the request. you're in a secluded bathroom, looking for respite amidst the chaos of the game. an unexpected connection emerges, an unspoken desire that turns into an intimate encounter

warnings | smut with some plot, explicit content, tension, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

Silence surrounds you, only interrupted by the faint sound of water droplets falling from the taps. The cold walls seem to watch you in their solitary stillness. You have tried to forget the brutality you experienced in the game, but your thoughts remain trapped in it. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the internal chaos that keeps growing.

Suddenly, the bathroom door creaks open. A man enters, his silhouette barely visible in the dim light, but you instantly recognize Namgyu. The same serious face, the penetrating gaze that you haven't been able to ignore since you arrived at this place.

"What are you doing here?" His voice, deep and low, blends with the somber atmosphere.

You turn towards him, shrugging your shoulders. "The same as you, I suppose... looking for some peace".

For a moment, both remain silent, sizing each other up, the air thick with palpable tension. There is something in his presence that provokes you, something in his eyes that captivates you, but you don't fully understand it.

"It doesn't seem like you're finding peace here, does it?" The sarcasm peeks through in his voice, but there's something else, something warmer lurking beneath the surface.

"Maybe... I'm not looking for peace". You respond, feeling how your words are filled with something more, something you cannot deny. A desire, perhaps.

"And what is it that you're looking for then?" Namgyu takes a step towards you, the distance between you two decreases. The look he gives you is direct, fearless, as if he were undressing you with his eyes.

Your heart begins to race, but you manage to stay steady. "I don't know.I don't know. Maybe... something different".

The room seems to close in around them, and the atmosphere grows denser. Their breath intertwines with yours, both of you aware of the tension growing between you. The sparkle in his eyes reflects something you can't identify, but it gives you a flutter in your stomach.

"Something different?" Her voice becomes softer, a whisper that blends with the sound of running water. "And what if I give you what you're looking for?"

Time seems to stand still. You look at her lips for a second, then you meet her eyes. The question hangs in the air. What if he gives you what you're looking for? The moment stretches, and before you can process it, his hands are around you, holding you gently.

Without thinking, you lean towards him. The brush of your lips against his is a gentle collision, a first contact full of doubts but also of a palpable electricity. It's a kiss without promises, just a spark that jumps in the midst of the darkness.

The intensity of the moment grows, and with it, your thoughts fade away. Namgyu's hands slide down your waist, drawing you closer to his body. You feel his warmth, the rapid beating of his heart against yours, and everything you have been suppressing, everything you have been searching for, seems to find a place in this moment.

"Don't think about it". His voice glides like a whisper between your lips, an invitation you don't know whether to reject or accept. Just let it flow, let it happen.

And something in your eyes, in your gaze, must give him an answer. His arms wrap around you, and he launches himself to kiss you more forcefully, his tongue exploring yours. The kiss deepens, their movements become more urgent and frantic, but always gentle. The accelerated breathing, the sound of your mouths together, the tension between you.

Without realizing it, you find yourself surrounded by their arms, trapped in a tight embrace. Their touch sends shivers down your spine, and only the sound of intertwined breaths fills the room. You feel the beat of his heart against your chest, the ragged breath that matches yours. There are no thoughts, no fear or insecurity. There is only one moment.

"Do you want this?" Her question fills the space between you. "Do you want this to happen?"

The answer is not on your lips, but in your eyes. There is something inside, an answer that only someone who knows you well can read. And Namgyu does, he reads it and understands it.

"Yes" You understand that it is a response stronger, more powerful than any word. The answer in your eyes is that of a need you haven't been able to suppress for so long. The answer to a suppressed desire.

And with her, the silence is broken. Her lips brush against yours again, but this time it's different. It's a stronger, more passionate kiss, a flame that begins to burn within him and seeks to do the same to you. His fingers caress your skin, exploring it and feeling the tension in your muscles.

"I'm sorry...". His hand stops on your hips, the other on your neck. "I'm sorry, every time I look at you... I'm sorry since the first time I saw you".

Her voice makes you stop, makes you realize how much you've been pretending. How much you have been deceiving yourself. How long have you been trying to convince yourself that you didn't feel anything, that it was just the game that made you see things that way? But no. It was him. His gaze, his eyes, his touch...

The truth is that you have been waiting for this to happen for a long time. Even though you didn't accept it, even though you refused to believe it. But here it is happening. And you can't stop it.

His fingers make you shiver as they brush against your nipples, sending a new sensation coursing through your entire body. A shiver that makes you arch your back, a moan that escapes your lips without you being able to stop it.

"Nam..." The voice barely comes out of your throat. The emotion is so strong that you find it hard to articulate the word.

"Yes?" Her response is a gasp, as if the touch of her fingers on your skin made her feel the same.

"Namgyu..." Your name is more than a question. It is a request, a pleading whisper.

The response translates into a soft laugh, a smile that forms on your lips. "I know, I know."

There are no more words. Touch translates into something more, a movement that translates into caresses and kisses. His hands slide down, towards your hips, towards your crotch. His fingers brush over your pussy, pressing it through your clothes, making you gasp with a pleasure you can barely contain. The sensation is so strong, so palpable, that you can feel your fingers stiffening on his hips.

"Nam..." You repeat his name, a pleading supplication to something you cannot name.

The answer is the one you expect. His fingers slide under your clothes, probing the wet and hot pussy. The touch is like lightning that completely electrocutes you, a pleasure that makes you lose your balance. You clutch his body, wrapping your legs around his hips. The touch of his fingers, moving inside you, makes your senses overflow, turning everything into an intense and pleasure-filled moment.

"Nam..." his name escapes your lips like a gasp, faster and faster. "Namgyu, Namgyu..."

The answer is a smile. "Say it, say my name." The command sounds soft, but as strong as the sensation that runs through your body.

And you obey. His name comes out of your lips again and again, as the pleasure grows and grows, as Namgyu's fingers caress your pussy with faster and stronger movements. And when everything overflows, when all the pleasure bursts out of you like an explosion, his arms hold you tightly, as if they were the only ones keeping you grounded.

The moment is filled with your gasps, your moans, the movements of his fingers inside you.

It's as if pleasure has completely exploded inside you, a fire that burns you from head to toe. But it is a pleasure that is not painful, that is not something you have to get used to. It is an intense and passionate pleasure that fills you completely.

"Namgyu..."

The name slips from your lips when everything ends, when your moans turn into slow, ragged gasps. His arms close around you, cradling you against his chest. Both of your breaths intertwine in a slow and steady rhythm, the only sound that breaks the silence.

However, it doesn't end there. Namgyu keeps kissing you before pulling down his pants and boxers. His erection stands before your eyes, large and thick. Instead of inserting it, he caresses it against your pussy, as if it were a dildo. Until she manages to insert it all the way to the hilt.

The pleasure returns instantly. The gasps mix with their ragged breaths. The sex is intense, frantic. His movements are quick, each one translating into a louder gasp on your lips.

Your breathing is rapid, his is too. The sounds of bodies colliding, the damp touch of their skins.

You don't know which is more intense. If the sensation of feeling him inside you or the touch of the wet pussy that beats against his glans. Whatever it is, it makes him enjoy it a lot, because he fills you more and more with his cock until you think you can't take it anymore and explode.

The two of them collapse on the floor, exhausted but satisfied. You don't know how long it took you to get to that point, but you feel like you've been there for a long time.

Namgyu starts to gently caress your pussy and you manage to have another orgasm.

After that, he also comes, but inside you.

"You are so hot". Namgyu whispers between your lips.

"And you too". You blush a little while stroking his cheeks.

[wlwsoccerfics]

Lost(LiaWältiXToddlerReader)

AN: Hope you enjoy my take on this request.

Summary: you greet Fans with your Mommy and get lost.

You sat in the changing room, your Mommy just finished taking a shower, while you sat on Leahs lap. Playing with your stuffed elephant and stuff Giraffe. You always carried the two around.

"so little walnut, what did you think of the game?" Your auntie Leah asked. You looked at her. The Game was part of the conti Cup.

"you won. I is proud!" Two and a half year old you said.

"glad to hear it!" Auntie Leah told you and smiled softly. You smiled back.

Lotte sat next to you and handed you your sippy cup.

"are you thirsty?" She asked you. Auntie Lotte was always the one that made sure you had your water and some snacks to keep you entertained. Especially when your Mommy wasn't there.

"yes! Thank you!" You said and sipped on your water. Smiling at Lotte. She was hands down one of your favorite aunties.

Your Mommy soon came out of the shower, dressed in her Arsenal track suit. Picking you up.

"are you ready to get home?" Your mommy asked. You nodded your head softly.

"yes Mommy! I am ready to go home!" You answered. Cuddling up to your Mommy. Smiling softly at her.

On your way to the Team Bus your Mommy greeted some Fans with you. Holding you on her hip. While signing some Jerseys, pictures and other Things. Even taking some Photos. You enjoyed it alot. Especially when they complimented your jersey. Which of course had your mommys Name and number on it. The Name obviously happened to be yours as well. Your Mommy wasn't the only one that was signing stuff and took Pictures with Fans. So there was quite the big crowd. Some even asked you to sign stuff. So what you did was draw something. You were really proud of yourself. Wanting to become a Football player just like your Mommy and aunties. So this was the perfect practice for you.

Your Mommy put you down to take a picture with a group of Girls.

"stay close, walnut!" Your mommy told you. You had both of your stuffies under one arm and held your sippy cup in the other hand. Nodding your head softly.

"okay Mommy. I got it!" You let her know.

The next time which was around 30 seconds after your Mommy told you to stay close, you were gone.

"y/n?!" Your Mommy said, panic in her voice. Looking around. Steph and Leah who stood close to your Mommy to sign stuff looked alarmed and walked over to your Mommy.

"Wally. What's wrong?!" Leah asked.

"y/n is gone! She was just standing here!" She told them in Panic. Steph and Leah both looked worried as well now. But tried to stay calm cause your Mommy looked like she was about to lose it. Soon the entire Team knew about you having gone missing.

"we gonna find her!" Kyra said softly.

"Kyra is right! We will find her." Alessia replied.

"i just didn't look for 30 seconds and she was gone!" Your Mommy said. She was close to a Panic Attack.

"breathe Wally! Breathe! You having a panic attack won't help find her!" Alessia stated. Even though she was really worried about you as well.

They all looked for you for around 20 minutes before Steph found you. Even some Fans Had helped look for you.

"Wally! She is here!" Your auntie yelled. You were happily standing in a Corner with some Fans singing 'north London is Red' . Your Mommy ran over right away and picked you up.

"my little walnut! You are okay!" She said and placed kisses all over your face.

"of course i am okay Mommy!" You replied, looking confused.

"please don't wander off anymore! You gave Mommy a Heart Attack." Your Mommy answered.

"you didn't just gave your Mommy a Heart Attack. We all were really worried about you!" Auntie Steph admitted.

Everyone was relieved that you were okay. You promised to always stay by your mommys side from now on. The day was so exhausting that you ended up falling asleep on the bus. Your little head was lying in your auntie Lessis lap while your legs were in your mommys lap.

[redocity]

Hii can I request with buck “so you wouldn't mind if i got with person c, right?" "no, i would mind." "...why?" (silence)

Dating rumors but they don't deny them" Both are From the not quite lovers prompt

𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ≠ 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 — 𝐄.𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘

“so you wouldn't mind if i got with person c, right?" "no, i would mind." "...why?" (silence)

Dating rumors but they don't deny them

evan buckley x gn!reader | 2.0k | flangst? | masterlist.

𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 !!

You don’t remember when it started.

Maybe it was a laugh that lingered too long, an inside joke that felt a little too personal, or the way his hand brushed yours one day and didn’t immediately pull away.

Whatever it was, by the time the rumours about you and Buck started circulating around the firehouse, they didn’t feel as ridiculous as they probably should have.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. You weren’t dating him, after all. You were friends. Best friends, even. Sure, you spent more time with him than anyone else, and yes, sometimes your heart skipped when he looked at you like you were the only person in the room, but that was just Buck. He had this way of making people feel special. It wasn’t about you.

Or so you told yourself.

The first time you heard the rumour, you’d just come back from a call. Your hands were still smudged with soot, your body aching from the adrenaline crash, when Hen sidled up next to you with a smirk.

“So,” she began, drawing out the word like she already knew the answer to the question she hadn’t asked yet, “you and Buck, huh?”

You froze, your brain scrambling to process what she was saying.

“Me and Buck what?” you asked, hoping your voice sounded casual, though the flush creeping up your neck probably gave you away.

Hen raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. You two have been practically glued at the hip lately. People are starting to talk,”

“People?” you repeated. “What people?”

Hen just shrugged, her smirk widening. “Everyone. Chim. Cap. Probably the neighbors across the street. You two aren’t exactly subtle,”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Hen was already walking away, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding for reasons you didn’t want to examine too closely.

The thing is, you don’t deny it. Not really.

You tell yourself it’s because the rumors are harmless. No one really thinks you and Evan are together—it’s just a bit of firehouse gossip, something to laugh about in between shifts. And anyway, Buck doesn’t seem bothered by it.

When Chimney teases him about “his partner” or Eddie smirks and asks if the two of you need some alone time, he just rolls his eyes and laughs it off. You follow his lead, brushing off the comments with a shrug and a smile, even as your chest tightens every time someone mentions it.

Because the truth is, you don’t mind the rumours as much as you probably should.

And that’s dangerous.

—

The night it comes to a head, you’re at Buck’s apartment.

It’s a regular thing now, these nights at his place. Sometimes it’s movie marathons or ordering takeout and falling into fits of laughter over the ridiculous stuff Chimney posts in the group chat. Other times, it’s quieter—Evan showing you a new recipe he found, the two of you talking about everything and nothing until you lose track of time.

Tonight, it’s pizza and a game of Mario Kart. Buck is predictably terrible at it, and you’re halfway through a victory lap when he nudges your arm, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

“Cheater!” you exclaim, shoving him back, but he just grins, his eyes crinkling in that way that always makes your stomach flip.

“Don’t hate the player,” he says, his voice teasing.

You roll your eyes, reaching for your controller, but before you can grab it, Buck’s phone buzzes on the coffee table. He glances at the screen, and you catch the way his expression shifts—just slightly, but enough to make you pause.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

He hesitates, then shrugs. “Yeah, it’s just…Taylor.”

Your stomach tightens. Taylor Kelly. You’d almost forgotten she was back in town.

“What does she want?” you ask, trying to sound casual, though you’re not sure you succeed.

“She’s asking if I want to grab a drink tomorrow night,” Evan says, his tone light, like it’s not a big deal. Like your heart isn’t currently trying to claw its way out of your chest.

“Oh,” you say, because you don’t know what else to say.

Evan looks at you, his expression unreadable. “So, you wouldn’t mind if went out with her, right?”

Your breath catches.

“No, I would,” you say before you can stop yourself.

Evan blinks, clearly surprised. “...Why?”

You open your mouth, but no words come out. What are you supposed to say? That the thought of him with someone else makes you want to scream? That you’ve been lying to yourself for months, pretending you didn’t feel something for him because you were too afraid of what it might mean?

“The next race is starting,”

Evan’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, and you think you see something flicker in his eyes—something soft and tentative and terrifying. But then he looks away, and the moment passes.

—

You don’t talk about it after that.

Buck doesn’t bring up Taylor again, and you don’t ask. Things go back to normal—or as close to normal as they can be when you’re still reeling from the weight of what you didn’t say.

But then the rumours start up again. And they’re not about you this time.

It’s small things at first—Hen mentioning that someone from another station spotted Buck and Taylor at a bar downtown, Chimney muttering something about how fast news travels in the firefighter community.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. Buck is allowed to see whoever he wants. It’s not like you’re together.

But when Eddie makes an offhand comment during a call—something about Taylor being “good for Buck” as the two of you pack up the rig—you can’t stop the flare of anger that surges in your chest. You force a smile, focusing on the task at hand, but your mind is miles away.

By the time you’re back at the firehouse, the ache in your chest has settled into something sharper, something harder to ignore.

—

That evening, you’re in the locker room when Hen walks in, a knowing look on her face.

“You okay?” she asks, leaning against the lockers.

You glance at her, debating how much to say. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Hen raises an eyebrow. “Come on. You’ve been quiet all day, and I know you heard the same thing I did about Buck and Taylor,”

You freeze, your grip on your locker door tightening. “So what if I did? It’s none of my business.”

Hen studies you for a moment, her expression softening. “You’re right. It’s not. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t bother you,”

You swallow hard, looking away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Sure, you don’t,” Hen says, her voice dry. “Listen, I’m not trying to push, but maybe it’s time you ask yourself why this is getting under your skin. Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like jealousy,”

The word hits you like a slap, even though you know she’s right.

“I’m not jealous,” you say weakly, but Hen just gives you a pointed look before walking away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

—

You manage to avoid Buck for most of the next day, throwing yourself into work and keeping your interactions with him strictly professional. But it’s not easy. Every time he laughs at something Chimney says or flashes that grin of his, you feel your resolve weaken.

During the next shift, when the team is gathered in the kitchen. Buck is sitting at the table, scrolling through his phone, while the others chat around him.

“Did you see that post Taylor made?” Chim asks, his tone teasing.

Buck looks up, confused. “What post?”

Chim grins, pulling out his own phone. “This one,”

He holds up the screen, and you catch a glimpse of a photo: Buck and Taylor, sitting close together at what looks like a bar. Or you presume so anyway considering his face isn’t actually in the photo. She’s leaning into him, her smile wide and bright.

“Wow,” Eddie says, smirking. “That’s pretty cozy,”

Buck chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not a big deal. We’re just catching up,”

“Sure,” Hen says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

You force yourself to smile, even as your chest tightens. “Well, I’m glad you’re having fun,” you say, keeping your voice light.

Buck glances at you, his smile faltering. “Yeah. Thanks.”

The conversation shifts, but you barely hear it. All you can think about is that photo, the way Taylor was looking at him, the way he didn’t seem to mind.

—

That night, you’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, when your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Buck.

Hey, you okay? You’ve been quiet lately.

You stare at the message, your heart pounding. Part of you wants to ignore it, to pretend everything is fine. But another part of you—the part that’s tired of pretending—knows you can’t keep this up.

Can we talk?

His response is immediate.

Of course. My place?

—

When you arrive at Buck’s apartment, he’s waiting for you at the door, his expression concerned.

“Hey,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”

You step inside, your stomach churning with nerves. “I just…I need to get something off my chest,”

Buck closes the door, his gaze steady. “Okay. I’m listening,”

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but…I’ve been feeling weird lately. About you. About Taylor,”

Buck frowns, his brow furrowing. “Weird how?”

You look down at your hands, your voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’m jealous,”

The silence that follows is deafening. When you finally look up, Buck is staring at you, his expression unreadable.

“Jealous?” he repeats, like he’s testing the word.

You nod, your cheeks burning. “Yeah. I mean, I know you’re not mine to be jealous over, but I can’t help it. Every time I see you with her, it feels like…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words.

“It feels like what?” Buck asks, his voice quiet.

“Like I’m losing you,” you admit, your throat tight. “And I know I don’t have any right to feel that way, but I do. I can’t help it.”

Buck takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t know how,” you say, your voice breaking. “And because I was scared. Scared that if I told you how I feel, it would ruin everything.”

Buck’s expression softens, and before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you into a hug.

“You’re not losing me,” he murmurs, his voice firm. “You couldn’t lose me if you tried.”

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you.

When he pulls back, his hands linger on your arms, his gaze steady. “For the record,” he says, his voice soft, “I wasn’t serious about Taylor. It was never anything more than catching up with an old friend,”

Relief floods through you, and you let out a shaky laugh. “Good. Because I think I’d lose my mind if it was,”

Buck grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “So…what does this mean? For us?”

You meet his gaze, your heart pounding. “I don’t know,”

Buck’s smile widens, and for the first time in weeks, the tension in your chest eases. Because whatever happens next, you know one thing for sure: you’re done pretending.

And so is he.

“I think I do,”

[outcast-shadow]

Oh man, Doey looked legitimately scary in that last post. (Not that I blame him for being angry, based on the implications there, but damn. 😨) Good job with drawing that face! 👍

Jumping on the angst bandwagon, I have wondered how Doey would have reacted if the Player was terrified of him when they first met? Considering that the majority of the Toys that the Players met has tried to kill and/or eat them, with one of the few friendly Toys they met being used as a meat puppet. The encounter with the last chapter having been particularly rough on the Player due to the red smoke and the hallucinations involved. (You could also factor in Poppy's role in forcing the player to stay, which probably has impacted their ability to trust the Toys.) With all those events factoring in, the Player seeing Doey just beat and eat Pianosaurus so easily could be just the final straw.

Like, Doey runs up to greet the Player afterwards and Player either trying to run away but can't for some reason, or just curling up in a ball and shivering in fear? Alternatively you skip this if it's too angsty or something.

Ahhh!! Thank you! I'm happy to hear that you liked the angst doodles with Doey! ^^ Don't mind me as I info dump with this ask.

Doey would probably be forgetful with how fragile humans can be, especially when it comes to receiving injuries or suffering from hunger. After all, it's been 10 years since he's encountered one and he would likely have suppressed memories of himself inflicting pain to humans (such as his parents or employees when escaping the Hour of Joy). Besides, he'd have the toys in mind, more often than the Player. After all, they are an employee of Playtime Co. (Kevin and Matthew would likely be uncertain of them and their intentions, Kevin being harder to convince than Matthew or Jack). I do have a WIP comic series that I'm working on that plays with the idea of Doey accidently hurting the Player, if you'd like to see more of my angsty style and how their interactions would go if something extreme were to happen! ;)

With the Player, I like to think they have the "Things possibly couldn't get worse for me, right?" mentality. Each level down the factory has only resulted in more chaos or an enemy far worse than the last. So seeing Doey demolish a literal bigger body in mere seconds would indefinitely set fear and doubt that Doey can be trusted at all, despite the fact that he helped them escape Yarnaby.

I feel that Doey grows onto them, after entering Safe Haven, as it's not only a warm environment, it's also refreshing for them to finally have another ally, aside from Poppy and Kissy. While it was scrapped in the game, I want to incorporate that doing tasks for both Doey and the toys there would break tensions the Player has with everyone there.

As I mentioned earlier with my WIP comic, here's the post I'm referencing to! Feel free to check it out! The prequel to this post can be found under this comic page, which for context, is about Doey accidently breaking Player's arm, after they nearly put Safe Haven in danger.

[patscorner]

I'm love with kk!!

I was thinking.... what about

Kk with older reader?

Headcannons or a fic (whatever you want)

Remember, take care and take your time. I love uuuuu 🥰💐✨️

love this idea!

I'm Not Even That Old

Summary: KK x Older!GF

wc: 634

Contains: a tad suggestive towards the end

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Kk definitely makes the most jokes about you constantly. Like the teasing is unending.

“You need help up, granny?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“We can even get you a cane if yo-”

“Kamorea.”

“Sorry.”

Even though you're only 2 years older than her, she makes sure you know.

“How was the great depression?”

“KK, how in the ever loving fuck am I supposed to know that?”

“You didn't have front row seats?”

That's not to say that you don't get her back. Whenever she pisses you off, you just talk to her like she's 7.

The team makes fun of you, too, but KK makes sure she draws the line if she thinks they go too far.

“Granny, can you please grab my water bottle?” Ice asks.

“Nah, don't make the old lady get up, Ice, I gotchu.” Paige laughs.

“Say that again, Paige, I will jam all your fingers.” KK warns.

Just because you're older doesn't stop KK from protecting you. In a party, on the court, even when a playful fight gets a little too intense for her liking.

The game had been physical already and it was beyond frustrating for everyone, but especially KK. The girl that was guarding you was overly touchy, and the refs weren't calling any fouls. She tried not to let her agitation show, and she was doing a decent job at it.

It all came crashing when the girl knocked the ball out of your hand, catching you by surprise. You both dove for the ball, hoping to gain possession.

You managed to hug the ball, the girl’s arm tangling with yours. The whistle blew, and the girl didn't let go. You were both on the ground, and it was not an ideal situation, so you let go, letting the girl yank the ball from you, shoving you simultaneously.

The refs call a technical, but that's not enough for KK, who has a couple of choice words for the girl. “Shove her like that again, bitch, see what happens!” KK spoke rather loudly.

The girl turned around, approaching KK, pushing off the players and refs between them. “Say that again, and it won't just be a fucking push!”

You rush over, attempting to pull her away from the interaction. You failed, and the two kept shouting at each other across the court, both of them gaining a technical.

“Calm down, calm down.” You mutter as you guide her to the bench. KK just grunts in frustration, plopping down.

“My little guard dog.” You smile at her. She rolls her eyes at you. “Fuck off.”

The team is always coming to you for financial advice as if you're not in the same spot as them.

“Paige, my degree is in communications, how the fuck am I supposed to help you with fucking statistics?”

“You're old enough to have done college twice! I thought you'd be able to help!”

“Bueckers, we're the same fucking age.”

“You're older than me.”

“By a single week.”

“Older than me, nonetheless.”

“Get the fuck out of my face.”

When you two argue, you usually have to be the mature one, normally apologizing first. If it's really bad, though, you stoop to her level of pettiness.

“Baby, please, I'm sorry, talk to me, please.” KK begs.

“Are you ready to apologize?”

“...”

“Come back when you have an answer.”

During intimate moments, you'll often take the lead, and she claims it's because you're more experienced, but you both know that's bullshit.

When you tell her to do something, she often quotes the Family Guy Skit, claiming that you're bossing her around.

She doesn't let you drive, saying she doesn't trust your driving skills at your old age. (in reality, she just wants you to be her passenger princess)

Even though she's teasing, the age difference doesn't bother her at all.

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