#code vein imagine

[code-pain]

Day[473]

*Io sneezes*

Protagonist: Io, are you sick? Here, let me wrap you in a blanket and hand-feed you some warm soup while singing you a lullaby!

*Yakumo sneezes*

Protagonist: Oh my god. Shut the hell up.

Yakumo: Mean 😔

[kyouzen]

Imagine

(spoiler if u haven't finished the game)

Murasame modified a weapon for Nicola before she left and go with protag, so Nicola can use and practice with it, I got this from the vestige where he and Mia practice/playing(I can't really remember)together.

[rafesangelita]

♡ when a double date with rafe leads to him feeling a sense of familiarity + you may have revealed your biggest secret yet..

warnings: mean!rafe. enemies to ???, suggestive language, lots of cussing lol, slight angst, mild sexting, light degradation (reader and rafe just like being snarky towards each other), sexual tension, flirty banter (?), slight arguing

a/n: this is part two of this fic right here! if you’d like to be added to the taglist just comment on this post or leave me an ask <3 i do plan to write three more parts to this!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 2.9k

[1:19 AM] countryclub: we have the same area code.

you felt cold sheer panic run through your veins at the revelation, your heart beating in your ears as you kept rereading his message. you refused to believe what he said to be true. this couldn’t be happening. sharing the same area code could only mean one thing— both of you resided on the island.

sure, the island was small, but it couldn’t be that small.. right? your mind was reeling, everything that you two had talked about, the pictures that you two shared, over the last few months ran through your mind at lightning speed. tossing your phone to the side, you rested your head in your hands, trying your best to piece something, anything, together. this mystery man didn’t talk like anyone you knew, or so you thought. you chewed on your bottom lip, your chest rising and falling as you realized that you hadn’t even confirmed if you two shared the same area code. for all you know he could just be making up some lame excuse for leaving you high and dry.

yeah, that had to be it.

[1:33 AM] brattydiaries: fuck you. i don’t believe that.

[1:35 AM] brattydiaries: i don’t need you to come up with some elaborate lie in order to spare my feelings. if you weren’t serious about reaching out to me in the first place, then you shouldn’t have asked for my number.

rafe was pacing back and forth in his room, the taste of tequila from his earlier activities still lingering on his tongue. he scoffed once your messages came in, his eyes narrowing at his screen as he scratched the back of his neck. insinuating that he didn’t really want to talk to you was just flat out insane. nowadays, all he could do was imagine the way your voice would sound in his ears while he pounded you in, the thoughts and images of you taking up his headspace.

[1:38 AM] countryclub: are you fucking stupid?? i was very serious about wanting to talk to you, you live in my fucking brain.

[1:39 AM] countryclub: 252. that’s the area code for kildare island.

[1:39 AM] countryclub: and judging by the way you post your nail appointments every two weeks, along with all the sexy lil try-on hauls you did for me, i could confidently say that you’re not a pogue.

your eyes widened in horror. only someone who lived on kildare island would know about the whole ‘kooks vs. pogues’ thing. besides the confirmation with the area code, you knew he wasn’t lying. you stared blankly at the screen, having no idea what to say or even do about this situation. having these kinds of blogs and letting anyone you knew in real life find out about them was social suicide. maybe not so much for rafe, but you? you were a totally different person out here. you had a reputation to uphold, you couldn’t risk the scrutiny you or your parents would face if anyone ever found out.

as mad as you were at the mystery man behind the screen for ghosting you without an explanation, you could understand his sudden disappearance now that you currently felt sick to your stomach at the realization. he was far too close for comfort. based off of his username, you knew you two had to be running in the same social circles, your blood running cold at the thought of this person being someone you might’ve had contact with before. figure eight wasn’t big enough to keep a secret like this, it was only a matter of time before you two would unintentionally reveal yourselves to one another.

[1:50 AM] brattydiaries: this can’t go on any longer. sorry not sorry.

you ignored the small pang of hurt in your chest when you pressed send. apart of you hoped that he wouldn’t let you off so easily. you couldn’t deny the thrilling feeling that sat in your tummy at the prospect of knowing who he is but also being utterly clueless at the same time.

[1:55 AM] countryclub: nah.

[1:55 AM] countryclub: i got you right where i want you now.

there was no way in hell rafe was going to just allow you two to go back to not talking. he did it once, but he wouldn’t be able to do it again. especially now that he knows everything he wants is on his side of the island. just in arm’s reach. obviously, he couldn’t physically stop you from blocking him, but at least he knew that if you responded to him then you two were on the same page.

and sure enough..

[1:59 AM] brattydiaries: whatever.

were you scared shitless? yes. did you believe that this was going to backfire in some way? most definitely; but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this. whatever little sexting arrangement you two had going on, it was the only relatively exciting thing you had going for yourself and you weren’t necessarily ready to let it go.

[2:03 AM] countryclub: so can i call you or what?

you shook your head even though he couldn’t see you.

[2:05 AM] brattydiaries: fuck no. goodnight.

rafe smiled down at his phone before getting ready for bed, both of you finding it nearly impossible to get any kind of sleep. when you woke up the next morning, you were met with at least a dozen messages from chanel.

[8:10 AM] chanel ♡: topper just dropped me off at home..

[8:12 AM] chanel ♡: crazyyyyy night.. but anyways! me and you are going on a double date tonight. idk who topper is bringing but you don’t get to say no because love me, okay!?

[8:12 AM] chanel ♡: LMAO imagine it’s rafe

[8:18 AM] chanel ♡: omg you srsly need to wake up already and come over so you could help me choose an outfit!!

you continued reading through her texts, already dreading tonight’s plans as you decided to go ahead and get the day started so you could get this whole ‘date night’ thing over with. even though chanel jokingly said topper would bring rafe to be your date, you really hoped that wasn’t the case. the last thing you felt like doing was fighting or bickering with him because of your indifferences. after spending the afternoon rummaging through chanel’s closet, she finally settled on a dress that she hasn’t worn out before. “where are we even going?” you asked.

“topper said it’s a surprise so he’s picking both of us up from here.” she smiled, her words making you roll your eyes. you hated not knowing what you were getting yourself into. yet again, here you were, sexting with a stranger who just might not be a stranger after all. by the time topper texted chanel that he was outside, you two were in full glam, ready for whatever tonight may bring you. topper opened the doors for both of you, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you two. “we weren’t sure how to dress, sooo..” topper nodded, “yeah, i can see that.”

topper had on a casual outfit, a stark difference to the mini dresses and heels you and chanel currently wore. “now is probably a good time to tell us where we’re going.” you quipped from the backseat. at your cattiness, chanel flashed you a glare. “rafe offered up his boat, so i figured we’d just have a couple drinks, have a good time, ‘you know?” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as chanel happily agreed. this was bullshit. not only did you have to spend the next few hours with rafe on his stupid boat, but you were sure this ‘double date’ was going to turn into a third wheeling act real fast.

fifteen minutes later, and rafe was reaching out to help you onto the druthers, an annoyed look written all over his face as you tossed your purse at him first. “what? i don’t want my bag to fall in the water, okay?!” taking hold of your hand, rafe caught a glimpse of your nails, the french tip design looking oddly familar. you squeezed his palm, stepping onto the deck with a sigh. topper and chanel had already made their way inside the cabin area, both of them laughing as they slid the door shut, leaving you and rafe all by yourselves. it was moments like these that made you wish you could be anywhere else.

rafe scanned your outfit, his eyes lingering on your cleavage before you turned around, annoyed. “i guess it’s a good thing topper didn’t mention i’d be spending majority of my night with you. ‘cause i wouldn’t have came.” you snatched your purse back, your heels clicking against the deck as you sat on one of the cushioned chairs near the lounging area. rafe grabbed his cooler, deciding to entertain your antics since all you two had was time. “mmm, i don’t know about that. apart of me thinks you like arguing with me. i know i do.” you scoffed, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips.

“yeah? i bet. female attention seems to be something you lack.” rafe laughed, taking a seat next to you. “oh, i can guarantee you that’s not the case.” he scooted closer, unscrewing the cap from his beer. yeah, right. you knew all about rafe’s inability to hold onto a relationship, rumors of his emotional unavailability spreading around the island like wildfire. “no? i’m sorry, i just assumed since, you know.. you’re a full time asshole.” rafe put his beer down, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed thickly. “only with you, i am.”

you laughed, finally meeting his gaze. he was a lot closer than you thought, his cologne filling your senses as your eyes flickered down to his lips for a second. “so i’m special then?” you had a faux innocent look in your eyes as you blinked up at him, the sight making his jaw clench. “no,” he smiled, leaning in, “but i can be nice. i can be real nice.” the insinuation made your cheeks heat as his face was just mere inches away from your own. tilting your head, you flashed him a sweet smile before shoving him in the chest.

“that’s never going to happen.” rafe acted like you didn’t have any effect on him, but inside? he was fighting every urge to pick you up and take you back to tanneyhill. he couldn’t help but feel like he knew you more than you let on, your demeanor reminding him of a certain someone. “can i ask why?” he watched as you grabbed his beer, your lipgloss smudging around the rim as you took a swig. “why i don’t like you, or why i won’t let you fuck me?” rafe leaned back in his chair, his thighs spreading as he crossed his arms over his chest.

well you definitely had a way with words..

rafe took the time to get a really good look at you. he had a feeling about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, the familiarity driving him crazy. he was determined to figure you out. “both.” he answered, taking his beer back from you. slipping your heels off, you brought your feet up and got comfortable in your spot next to rafe. “well i only realized i didn’t like you when i found out you had been talking about me first. so, really, i should be asking you why you don’t like me.”

rafe blinked. all this time he thought that you felt the way you did just because. “how come you never asked me then?” you stayed silent for a few moments before shrugging. “everyone has always made their assumptions about me. about my parents, about my life.. but no one really knows me, or what really goes on in my home. i just let people think whatever they want.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “what do you mean?” at his words, you realized you may have said too much.

putting your defense back up, you backed away from him slightly before you scoffed. “you’re the last person i’d ever confide in, rafe.” the man next to you immediately recognized what you did, having veered away from being vulnerable a countless amount of times himself. rafe couldn’t help but keep digging. “let’s go tit for tat, then. you tell me something, anything you want, and i’ll say something in return. ‘that way it’s an even exchange.” apart of you hated him for making this so easy.

“i’m not doing that with you.” your voice sounded different. it lacked that usual bite and now rafe felt bad for opening his mouth in the first place. before the awkward tension could settle over you two again, you got up with your phone in your hand. “where are you going?” rafe watched as you slid the door open to the cabin area. “inside. i need to make a phone call.” you lied, walking past chanel and topper who were aggressively making out on the couch in the corner.

locking the small bathroom door behind you, you sighed, taking a moment to let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. what even was that out there? unlocking your phone, you sent chanel a text that you wanted to leave even though the chances of her seeing it was extremely slim. you stalled, deciding to freshen up your makeup as you waited for this so-called ‘date’ to end already. you were reapplying your lip gloss when your phone went off, making you mutter a ‘thank god’. instead of the notification being a message back from your best friend who was currently getting her face sucked off, it was from tumblr instead.

[9:14 PM] countryclub: what are you doing right now? i could use someone to talk to rn ngl

you looked up from your screen and stared into your reflection. this message came at just the right time.

[9:15 PM] brattydiaries: that makes two of us. i’m not with the sweet talk rn though, but i could use a distraction right now for sure..

[9:16 PM] countryclub: define ‘sweet talk’ cause i had every intention of asking you for some sexy pics and maybe a phone call if you’re down with that?

you refrained from laughing at his text, his bluntness throwing you for a loop. you couldn’t deny the giddy feeling you had in your tummy when you thought about hearing his voice. biting your lip nervously, you pulled the neckline of your dress down, exposing the lace of your bra before snapping a few pictures.

[9:19 PM] brattydiaries: 3 attachments

[9:20 PM] brattydiaries: here’s the first half of your request. make me wet and just maybe i’ll accept the call..

rafe was outside on the deck looking over his shoulder every two seconds to make sure you weren’t coming back in time to see the explicit photos currently illuminating his screen. he cursed under his breath, his eyes raking over the soft swells of your breasts. you were so fucking perfect, he couldn’t believe you were so close yet so far.

[9:22 PM] countryclub: fuckk you’re unreal.

[9:22 PM] countryclub: i hate that i’m wrapped up with something right now, otherwise i’d be sending you paragraphs about how pretty your tits look for me.

you sighed in defeat, making a mental note to send him a text once you were finally in the comfort of your own bed. with you still in the bathroom, rafe took his time examining the photos, his eyes widening slightly as he zoomed in on the dainty diamond pendant of your necklace, the background looking like something he has seen before.

[9:25 PM] brattydiaries: aww, too bad.

just then, chanel knocked on the bathroom door, her hair looking slightly out of place once you opened it. “i just saw your text. you ready to go?” you nodded, adjusting your dress before stepping out. “sorry to cock block you, i just had a really weird moment with rafe.” you explained, tossing your phone back in your purse. chanel waved you off before interlocking her arm with yours. “don’t even worry about it, we’re going back to his place, anyways.” she reassured you.

topper was already outside on the deck once you two made your way out of the cabin. glancing at rafe, you quickly looked away once you saw that he was already staring at you. “well, thanks for letting us use the druthers.” chanel smiled, in which rafe just shook his head. “ah, don’t even worry about it,” he held your stare, “..i had a good time.” blinking away from him, rafe’s eyes caught onto your cleavage once again, except this time; a sparkle from right above your neckline took him out of his reverie.

that necklace..

before he could piece anything together, you were moving with chanel, not sparing rafe another look as you were getting back onto the dock. the car ride back to your place was deadly silent. all except for the music topper had playing in the background. by the time you had gotten home and showered, you felt your world come to a stand still when your phone started ringing, an unsaved number with kildare island’s area code showing up at the top.

accepting the call, you held up the receiver to your ear with a shaky hand before speaking.

“hello?”

“..you sound pretty.”

taglist: @meallan01 @sf1738 @emeloyy @hmmshhhh @chelzaa @starkeycore @liyah4evaaaa @hnybitches @urbimom @kittenjujusblog @femaholicc @lil-sparklqueen @yktayy9669 @matthewswifeyy @icaqttt @jjasmiineee @lilithblackkk @rafecameronswhoore @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @ditzyzombiesblog @i-love-gvf @blondrafe @wolf-2005 @brianquinnlvr @lightbluebaby @jkrafe @lovemaybankk @xcinnamonmalfoyx @drewstarkeysbabe @issues4him @dahliaparton @slut-4-gojo @luvagirlsworld @nemesyaaa @jwdiaries @midsoulz @drewstarkeyzwhore @urmotherlvr @chillgal135 @wtfisastiles @dollyfiles @annaconscience @rafesluvr @locallyhateddoll @acidfeens @cherubfille @whathechickenstrip @my-name-is-baby @wtfdudesblog @atjlovverr

[roach-works]

i feel like there's a rich vein of SOME kind of ore to mine with regards to the romantic woes of visibly "freakish" and inhuman superheros, especially in silver age comics. like, because of the comics code, the writers could not in-universe admit that some people are really kinky and would absolutely nut in an instant if a gigantic alligator man or a living rock monster or a ten foot tall woman who's on fire gave them a little smooch on the head. like maybe most people in the 70s and 80s had no idea this was the case, either!

but so you end up with these romantic plot lines where some poor freakish superhero with a heart of gold and the skin of, i don't know, a bunch of octopi, is miserable because they'll never find true love, except for a totally normal woman has the power to see their inner heart (which is normal) and fall in love with them for that (normally). villains can sometimes be like 'yeah this chick is super into the fact that i'm an eight foot tall deathbot, we're both evil like that' but ben grimm can't get a date! even blind women are a little concerned that he's literally made out of rocks. it never works out because the writers either can't imagine or can't admit that no matter the freak, there's a bigger, hornier freak who's praying for a chance to shoot their shot.

i don't know. it's just interesting. obviously modern comics can acknowledge a lot more sexual variance than the stuff from fifty years ago, but it's just kinda neat to consider the bizarre limitations a heteronormative paradigm enforces on a population of very strange characters.

and also i feel like in real life ben grimm's DMs would be full of incredibly horny geologists going PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE all day long.

[devil-in-hiding]

cw: violence

okay it’s 3 am and i’m soft for neighbor simon because imagine he teaches you a code, one knock on the wall separating y’all’s apartments just means “hey”

two raps mean “goodnight”

the most important one he taught you was three bangs, telling you that if he ever heard those three bangs he would be there in a blink of an eye

Simon shooting out of bed when there’s three bangs right next to his head, a sharp cry of “Simon!” tearing through him as he busts his own apartment door down, all but ripping yours off its hinges to get to you

the glass of your balcony door is shattered, and he hears shuffling down the hall and there’s fire in his veins as he slinks his way down the hallway

a masked man is struggling to keep you held down, and Simon feels a swell of pride at seeing you kicking and biting, trying with all your strength to get this intruder off of you

“Close your eyes little bird.” Is all you hear from the hall, the man’s grip on your wrist loosening and you do as Simon said, squeezing your eyes shut

The man’s hands are gone, a startled grunt leaving him, then a sickly ‘crack’

“Don’t look little bird. Keep your eyes closed.” He orders you, and you listen, even as the tears burn the corner of your eyes

You feel strong arms scoop you up, Simon tucking your face into his neck.

“Shhh, I’ve got you beautiful. He’s not gonna hurt you love.” He whispers into your ear, carrying you out of your room. You don’t need to be here anymore, not where he can’t protect you, keep you safe from the cruel hands of the world.

He finds his bed looks much better with you in it anyways.

[bitchlessdino]

"like i can" (m)

a/n: maybe ill fix it up with a banner after but for now i just need yall to see the vision

w.c. 1.6k

warning: fratboy!chan x older working adult fem!reader dynamic, ex's younger brother, mommy kink, switch!chan, a lot of dirty talk, unprotected sex, possessive chan, oral (giving and rec), praise kink, exchanging cum, probably grammar mistakes

Tagging @the-boy-meets-evil @dirtysvthoughts @okiedokrie @kwanisms @highvern @whipped-for-kpop-fics @wonustars @sluttyminghao for those who was there that helped me or brain rotted me ily and hopefully I didn’t miss anyone

You swore off men. Anyone with a dick would be off limits. Especially Lee men. After your last relationship, dick truly fucked up any potential future relationship for you.

So why the fuck were you on your knees? You had no excuse being there, no excuse for sucking dry your ex-boyfriend’s younger brother. No matter how hot and sweaty he looks after coming home from the gym. You were just there to drop off his asshole brother’s things. And maybe have that lemonade he was offering. And surely lemonade is not code for a mouth full of frat boy dick like when you were in college.

Yet somehow.

“Shit…this is so…wrong…” As Lee Chan fought you off with his words, his hands decidedly thread through your hair, locking his soft kind eyes with you as your lips wrapped around his cock and slobbering over his length that was a surprisingly pleasant size.

“He’s gonna fucking hate me,” he whined, only for his hips to softly piston in your mouth.

Your moans vibrated against his skin, sending waves of nerves throughout his body. Chan was irrevocably enthralled by you and always has been when his brother introduced you to his family for the first time, but never in all his years did he imagine he’d have you in such a position. In any position really.

The corner of your lips stretched to your ears, licking a long  thick stripe up his shaft before cradling his cock against your face. “Do you want to stop, pretty boy?”

His lips parted to speak only to close back up, pressing them into a firm line before another moan escaped through them as you kissed his bulging veins. The whites of his nails piercing the leather of the couch he was pinned against as his eyes fell shut, muttering a mantra of apologies for his older brother missing in action.

“You’re such a good boy to worry about your brother. He’s so lucky to have you,” you complimented as you stroked him around a clenched fist.

Chan shook his head, a remorseful frown on his face. “Definitely not a good enough one,” he managed to mutter.

“But look, you’re letting your brother’s ex girlfriend suck your cock but all you can think about how he’d feel. You’re such a good boy.” Your nails claw down his bare torso, from his heaving pectoral to to his clenched abdomen. Someone above put a test in front of him and he was failing. “And too good of a brother.”

He swallowed a lump down your throat, feet glued to the ground, stooping his knees from completely giving out. “This…shouldn’t have happened…it shouldn’t be happening—“

“Then why don’t you stop me?”

He exhaled a shallow breath. “You know why I can’t.”

“Dumb it down for me why don’t you?”

“Fuck,” he buried his reluctance in the back of his throat, hips leaning towards you before they shifted, gaining momentum. “It’s you, that’s why.”

“Me?” You chuckled before putting him back in your mouth, squeezing around his girth.

His hands found claim back on your hair before losing control of his morals, no longer tiptoeing around eggshells and instead crushing them along his path. “Yes, you.”

Your eyes dilate a centimeter too wide when his tense expression melts into one of acceptance, then determination as his body relaxed into your warmth and plummeted down your throat. “It’s always…been you.”

He could no longer resist your advances, letting out a groan of anguish as he emptied in your mouth, cradling the crown of your head to his groin as his stream poured inside of you, his hips faltering as he the white disappear past your lips. Tapping against his hips, he released you mercilessly, ensuing the coughing and the gagging that inevitably came. “You…dirty boy,” you chided, face warm and throat sore.

He softly scoffed, before picking you up from the ground and smashing his lips against yours. “If you’re not holding back than neither should I…Mommy.”

“Mommy?” You grinned.

“Too much?”

“Oh, baby boy. Not at all.” You threw your arms around him, languidly moving your lips, and letting the taste of his own cum penetrated Chan’s senses, only enticing him more. “Lay it all out for mommy. Can you do that for me, baby?”

He gingerly nodded, hand caressing your face with an inspired smile. “Yes, anything. Anything mommy wants, I can do.”

“What do you want, baby?”

He sighed. “I want to taste Mommy.”

“You do, don’t you,” your kiss him playfully, grinding against his cock, feeling him grow under your touch. “Show me how much you want it.”

“Mmh, I want it,” he lifted you off the ground before moving you back toward the dining table planting you flat against the dining table. “I’ll show Mommy exactly how much I want it.”

He tugged off your skirt, flashing your wet panties practically drenched in your anticipation. You heard him take a sharp breath, already inhaling that scent that he knows was now forever ingrained into every wrinkle of his brain.

“You look like you’re about to eat me alive, baby,” You mused.

“And Mommy would be right.”

He pulled you by the legs, emitting a small yelp, before all you could feel was his mouth on your clothed cunt, sucking your wetness through your lace, and his moans against you, living and breathing inside you. Your hands reach either edge of the table before started riding his face, erupting his giggles, “I get to taste mommy’s pussy…I’m fucking dreaming.”

“Mmh, Chan,” you moaned, your fingers pressing into his head and feeling his tongue explore you like the new world.

“Mommy…” he parted your panties to the side, tasting until it’s only raw heat on his tongue and he swallowing every drop.

“Baby like mommy’s pussy?”

You felt him nod. “Mommy’s pussy is perfect…need her cum in my mouth.”

“Work for it, baby.” You laughed.

“Yes, Mommy.” 

If Chan’s mouth was law, you’d be a follower. You embraced every caress, every stroke, every thrust of his tongue. The ‘fuck me’ eyes that stared back at you as he ruined you like rain on parade. You braced on the table, hips taking his face, walls fluttering, and breathing in staggering breaths. “Oh my god,” you spoke as if confessing sin, “I’m gonna cum.”

Chan could not stop himself, and what was between your legs became safe haven. You rode his face until you saw stars, planets, whatever the galaxy offered, while Chan’s name echoed throughout the room and bounced off the walls.

He clamped his grip on your hips, fusing himself to you and tasting your climax flood his gums with the sensation of every twitch of your thighs. As soon as they faltered, he found your lips, mixing your cum in his mouth with remnants of his cum in yours, both swallowing betrayal that’s been long forgotten the moment Chan laid eyes on a freshly single you. “Taste that, mommy? Taste good that pretty pussy of yours is?”

“Baby…”

You tugged on his hair, grinding your hips against him and feel that cock slide against your pussy lips and thinking about how you both were still so close yet so far.

You needed it. You needed Chan. You need to feel him stretch you out fuck the shit out of you. You needed him to ruin you on this stupid family dining room table that humiliates you now that the person that introduced you has put an end to things on his own terms. You were gonna get closure your way and no other way.

“I want baby’s cock in me…”

Chan smiles, hands tracing over your curves and lines. “Mommy, are you asking or are you telling?”

“I’m demanding.”

His smile was only more radiant after your tone shift, positioning himself exactly where he needed to be. “Anything for you, Mommy.”

It’s big. It’s thick. But after the feast Chan had, he was sliding through you with ease, testing the limits of your endurance as he vanished inside you. Your voice gave out, hands planting on either of his shoulders as he took you by the hips to drag you against him across the table. 

You rest your forehead against his. “Baby...”

“That feel good?”

You nodded. “So good, baby. Your pretty cock pushing in and out my cum.”

He groaned, his hands moving to squeeze your hips, “Mommy, your mouth—”

“Filthy hmm? Like your cock fucking my mouth or how your tongue tasted my pussy?” 

He moaned, against your lips, pounding you against him so desperately the table shook and it was a study table from your experience. “Your talking is gonna make me cum, Mommy.”

“Good because it’s all I want: baby’s cum in mommy’s pussy, squirting your fat load inside of Mommy…Make Mommy yours.”

“Mommy, you’re killing me.”

Your nails ran down his back, pleased. Lips tasting the salt in his sweat, and your breath cooling the heat of his flushed neck. “Mommy just wants you to empty out in her, fuck her better than anyone else has.”

“Better than anyone else…like my brother?” He asked in gentle reluctance.

“Would that be hard for you? You think you can’t fuck me like your brother would?”

Violently, he shook his head. “No,” his hips take flight and a moan cracked out of your lips. “I don’t think anyone would fuck Mommy like I can. Especially my brother.”

“Yeah?” You clenched around his biceps. “You gonna make me forget what he feels like?”

“I’ll make you forget his name.”

“Chan…”

“Mommy won’t remember nobody’s name but mine.”

You don’t remember when it was that you arrived at this house but you’d soon realize when you’d come. And come. And come.

And come until Chan was empty, or at least until someone finally came home. But it was the weekend. Your ex was out of town and so was his parents. 

So who the fuck knows when that is.

[theseinfernalangels]

Headcanon: Liam Loves to Touch

A/N: Not my usual story fics (I have so many WIPs cut me some slack), but it’s night time rn and I miss Liam. I would very much like a Liam Hug™️

I think that as a fandom, we’ve accepted that Liam would be quite the clingy boy

Not clingy as in weird and obsessive, but as in, “What do you mean we’re sitting next to each other and not touching?” He just Loves To Touch™️

So by default, he’s always got an arm around your shoulder or waist (and it feels GOOD because we know he’s got like…really nice arms…)

If you’re not comfortable with it, he’ll keep PDA to a minimum. In private, however…

“My love, I’m so sorry, but I’m legally required to hold you right now.”

PLAY WITH HIS HAIR. Oh my gosh, this boy is a puppy and you know damn well he’s going to flash that adorable grin at you when you run your fingers through his soft, sandy locks

Just imagine it: You have an exam, and he’s acting as your “stress relief” by laying his head in your lap while you read and reread your textbook.

You’re deep into a random passage when his fingers suddenly curl around the textbook and lower it away from your face. You look down and he’s frowning at you.

“Hey,” he says in a soft voice. “Look at me. You’re gonna do just fine. You’ve been reading the damn book for, like, two hours.” Then a cute little smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Now pay attention to me, please.”

It’s a mutual thing, too. We know he’s good with his hands (cough cough) because of his carving abilities, so if you’re ever upset or having anxiety, he’s plopping you on his lap, tucking your face into his neck, and just running his hands through your hair while he quietly talks about the most random things.

Liam’s gentle, wbk, but let’s not pretend that he’s not a cheeky bastard, too.

He never takes it too far, but he likes to toe the line sometimes.

Gently running his nails up your waist when he walks by, pulling you to the side by your hips, brushing his lips over the back of your neck, tapping out little “I love you’s” on your thigh in Morse Code.

He thinks the way you flush and glare at him is hilarious…But it’s less hilarious when you decide to do the same things to him.

Biting his shoulders in passing, running your nails across his abs, tracing the veins in his arms…Oh, baby is BLUSHING BLUSHING

And Deigh makes fun of him all the time for it.

“Perhaps if I knew that they were your weakness sooner, I’d use them as blackmail material.”

He complains about it all the time, but you know from how his gaze softens that he adores it, and you.

Liam just loves to touch and be touched ( — no, not like that). 

To him, it’s another way to protect you; he definitely loves to sleep on top of you with his head on your chest.

Receiving touch feels like a privilege to him, because he knows you’re not the most touchy-feely person and the fact that you’re touchy-feely with him makes him feel special and trusted.

Moral of the story? Let him cuddle you and give you that forehead kiss before he has to leave. You savor it every time and ache when his lips on your skin become a distant memory.

[cindol]

The thought of soft men reaching their breaking point once you test them enough.

tw— as always: black reader coded, gender neutral reader, hair pulling, mention of mean attitude before,

The usual soft demeanor and soft smile disappearing once he hits his limit with you, his fist clenching a little and a irritated look on his face as he now had a smile but just left soft looking and more of ‘enough of that now, okay?’ look.

The way he slides the sleeves of his dress shirt up and taking off any watch or jewelry off his wrist and fingers while brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing while looking at you. a visible vein was on the corner of his forehead. He towered over you as he spoke,”I’ve tried being the mature one but I’m guessing this was a ploy of yours right?”

he notices your small nod and gets down to your level.”guess I’ll have to give into your mean acts and treat you how you’ve treated me then..” surprising you he tugs your hair with a painful grip making you wince and tears forming on your tear lines. He had no smile anymore, just a stern look with furrowed brows, no more playing games.

ARMIN ARLERT, ERWIN SMITH,TOMAS MK1, SUGURU GETOU, SHIU KONG, NANAMI KENTO, KEIGO HAWKS + ANY NICE GUYS U CAN IMAGINE HERE !

[ninelieswithme]

𝙳𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇ4 ʀᴇᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʟᴇᴏɴ ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✩ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ - ʜᴀʏʏ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀʏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʙʟᴏɢ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇs ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴏʟʟ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪᴛ ᴏʀ ɴᴀʜ!!

✰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs ᴇ/ᴄ ᴍᴇᴀɴ? ɪᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴs ᴇʏᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀ :3

★ sᴇʟꜰ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴜ - 1k+ ᴡᴏʀᴅs

Leon quietly treaded into the dimly lit room.

His worn combat boots squelching against the wet tiles.

The flickering glow of ember torches following him.

The overcasting shadows warped on the stone brick walls as he stalked through the castle.

It was eerily quiet, an unsettling contrast to the neediness of battles and monstrous roars he typically encountered.

Leon was just an avatar.

A collection of code.

He’d known for a while now that his world wasn't quite real.

Until he felt it.

A pull.

Directing his every move.

A invisible force dragging him around like a obedient dog.

He could feel your presence..

This was a new kind of nightmare for Leon… Or more like.. daydream?

Leon has faced his fair share of horrors, since his days as a young rookie cop..

But this..

This was much more..

Different~

God he loved the feeling~

It was euphoric even..

The touch of your fingertips on the keyboard was like a whisper to his lifeline.

Fuck.. he felt his blood running down to his v line.

A throbbing sensation accompanying it. 

Only bitting his lip while treading deeper into the dim lit throne room of the castle.

Thankfully his cargos were bagged enough to hide his growing erection.

But something about this world.

About your warm embrace that surrounded him made him want oh so much more..

“Such a tease” he said lightly.

Only hearing you hum through the monitor. 

Your fingers on the keyboard gently guiding him further into the estate.

Such a fucking tease..

He couldn’t stop his own thoughts..

Like a fucking horny teen..

God..

He thought while his imagination blossomed with a lustful enthusiasm ravaging him fully.

Thinking about having you cutely on your knees.

Being such a good baby, hair tied back (or not).

As he thought of your hands raking his chiseled abs.

Coming to a halt at his v line 

His cock hard from your warm touch.

While you unbuckled his belt with ease.

Fingers nimble as you unbuttoned his cargos.

Leon's breath hitched at the thought of your hands on his zipp-

Keep it together.. he thought..

He was already hooked..

He hated it with a passion.

Hated that you made him feel this way.

Hated how his cock was twitching, begging to be free for your warmth to envelop him, to be he all around him.

Hated he couldnt see you, touch you..

Feel you..

He yearned for more than this one-sided situationship.

Weeks past, like minutes.

His mission nearly completed

But something about this world…

About you.

Just kept him tethered to it.

This filthy world he’s trapped in.

To be eternally be doomed to relive the pain of the Las Plagas.

To eternally yearn for a soul who he will never meet.

Everything was so frustrating.

And so fucking confusing.

Why are you doing this to him.

Why?!

He’s been through enough.

Day by day leon was feeling worse then before. His head pounding.

his organs swirling.

The heat unbearable, tearing at him.

His canines turning sharp.

His god given physique, littered with black veins.

Pulsing and throbbing.

His crystal sea blue eyes turned crimson.

Through the pain Leon still yearned for you.

When all hope was thought to be lost for Leon.

When Leon was taking his final breaths.

He was going to succumb to the las plagas.

The angel that Leon always thought you were,

Saved him!!

More like ashl-

This just gave him his 1000th reason to love you!!

Now he owe’s you his life!

Permanently

You own him.

Oh he’ll be the best partner.. Forever

The best boyfriend..

Best husband, Nd’best father

You would like that!!

W̴͔̏̕ō̵̝̭͙̊ų̷͕̙͚͖̲̱̐̒̀̆̎̈͜l̶̘̫͚͎̟̙̺̼̦͈̋̽̔d̶͇͆̓̂̆͌͛͠n̸͉̠̘̲̼̼̩͗͒̕͝͝’ţ̸̛̞̒̑̌́̄̽̀͝ y̶̡͕̮͇͖͕̮̳̲̓ō̵̝̭͙̊ų̷͕̙͚͖̲̱̐̒̀̆̎̈͜..

Let him fill you up with his seed huh?, make you all cute and round with his baby

You had to at least like him?!?

R̶̨̨̖̬̹̥̜̠͎̺̍͐̂Į̴̧̝͔͍͖͇̹̗̅͆̈́̈́̒̕G̶̢̨̖͚̜̺̭̥̭͓̾̒̃̃̈̏͋͝H̸̪͊̒T̷̢̧͎̤̗͙̜͓̽͊ͅͅ…

you saved his life.

H̸̪͊̒E̵̪͐̌̕ͅ L̸̼̞̰͘O̸̜͉̹̳̎͒̎̄͘͘͝Ṽ̴̮̻̼̙̋͐̿̋̌̇̊E̵̪͐̌̕ͅŞ̸̜̦̦̦̓́̐̈́͆̅̇̚ Y̸̢̨̭̟͍̫͉͊O̸̜͉̹̳̎͒̎̄͘͘͝Ù̸̺̓̀̓͒͑!

What you have done for him is unforgettable.

he thought this was just a small crush obsession.. but oh no..

This is much worse now.

you should’ve never played this game.

Everyday was a challenge for your pc now.

The glitches growing more frequent.

The slip ups more common..

Things leon were saying were more.. out of character.

He longed to break free from his virtual prison.

To meet the person who held his heart in their tender hands.

His darling, he would protect at all costs.

At all costs..

After hours of intense gameplay and streaming.

You stretched and yawned in your gaming chair.

Your eyes lidded and heavy with the exhaustion of the day.

"Alright, Leon," you murmured groggly.

"Time for bed. I'll see you tomorrow.".

You said in a calm tone still not fully aware on how deep leon has fallen for you.

You didnt even know he liked- no loved you.

Just blaming the things he said as glitched quotes that the mods forgot to take out of your game.

You did get it awfully cheap-

Shaking the thought you power down your warm pc, its fan finally slowing down.

Leon watched from inside of the game as you powered down your PC,

The screen going dark, leaving him in a silent, cold void of the game's code.

Leon felt an unbearable emptiness settling in.

Desperation clawed at him, he couldn't let you go

Not for a second

The resident evil logo beaming into the reflection of leons icy blue eyes.

But something had changed.

The boundaries of his digital prison had grown more fragile.

Whether it was through your persistent involvement of the game or his growing self-awareness.

More like hacking..

He felt the restraining weakening like a paper thin barrier just waiting to be torn apart.

This is his moment.

As you fell into your bed, your room lit only by the slivers of moonlight streaming in through the curtains.

You dose off into a cozy deep slumber like always.

Leon decided it was time.

With a force of will that defied the logic and science.

He pushed against the screen,

The boundary simmering away before him, collapsing entirely.

He emerged from the digital vortex.

Worn blooded boots stepped into your dimly lit room.

With ease sinking to the ground, landing on his feet without issue.

He approached your bed, watching your peaceful expression.

The moons glow shining down on you.

God your were stunning, your voice was too m’gonna take good care of you darling He thought.

Leon extended a hand, breaking through the final worry he wasn’t real as he gently touched your face.

Swiping away some messy strands of hair.

Piercing E/C eyes flickered open, groggy and disoriented.

You stared in utter disbelief at the man standing before you,

His body shielding most of the moon under-glow.

Fuck he looks hot.. Y/N WHAT THE FUCK, he’s an intruder!!

You mentally berate for checking him out lightly, while still staring at the man before you.

He looks very familiar..

Clad in tactical gear, the signature fringe of his hair casting shadows over his striking familiar blue eyes.

L-Leon..

You thought confused, while Leon looked at you, eyes dazed with admiration and intoxicating love.

With the tenderness of someone touching a fragile doll, he scooped you up into his arms.

Your body still limp from sleep while the dramatic shift occurred.

Still letting out a light yelp as he held you.

"Please, don't be afraid," Leon begged, his voice trembling with emotion.

"I just want to be with you, to thank you for all that you've done for me. I can't bear the thought of being alone in that game any longer."

You just stared at Leon in disbelief, heart pounding in your chest.

He squeezed tighter nuzzling into you more.

"I'm so happy you're here, I missed you so much~”

The last part he said, had a disturbing ring to it.

Sending chills down your spine. Staring up at him.

Seeing his lovesick lidded diamond blue eyes.

He had finally found his way to be with you, and he wasn't going to let you go.

Never

Never

ክቿሀቿዪ

N̺̻̔̆ͅẹ̿͋̒̕v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝

N̶͎̫̉̍͘͝è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜v̷̧̬̽͂́̎̉è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜r̵̨͇̰̭̜̈́͑

N̶͎̫̉̍͘͝E̵̪͐̌̕ͅṼ̴̮̻̼̙̋͐̿̋̌̇̊E̵̪͐̌̕ͅR̶̨̨̖̬̹̥̜̠͎̺̍͐̂

..

..

…

………….

Looks like your in for a treat :33

AN - HAYYY I ACTUALLY REALLY LIKED MAKING THIS, MAKING IT MORE REAL 😭😭

[springtyme]

𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ♡

Simon Riley x afab!reader || Masterlist || Ghost playlist

summary: After spending months on deployment, Simon surprises you by coming home in the middle of the night to meet his daughter for the first time.

word count: 1.6k

warning/tag: Mostly just dad!Simon fluff with a little hint of angst. No gendering terms are directly used for the reader, but they are pretty fem coded. It's mentioned that they were pregnant. No use of y/n.

"Home where my thought's escapin' Home where my music's playin' Home where my love lies waitin' silently for me"

You wake up to the sound of rain tapping against the windowpane, the darkness of the night wrapping around you like a thick blanket. Groggy and disoriented, you rub your eyes and glance at the clock on your bedside table. It reads 3:04. Confused as to why you’re awake at such an ungodly hour and it not being from your three week old daughters cry, you sit up in bed, your mind still clouded with sleep trying to decipher the source of the disturbance.

As you try to gather your thoughts, a faint sound catches your attention, your heart pounding in your chest as you sit up and strain your ears.  It's a muffled thud, followed by the creaking of the front door. Your heart skips a beat, and a surge of adrenaline courses through your veins. Your mind races, frantically searching for an explanation. Could it be an intruder? Or perhaps just your imagination playing tricks on you? Panic starts to set in, but you quickly remind yourself to stay calm. You need to protect your baby.

With bated breath, you slip out of bed and tiptoe towards the bedroom door. The rain continues to patter against the window, the sound growing louder with each passing moment. 

Slowly, you make your way down the dimly lit hallway, your senses heightened and on high alert. Your heart pounds harder with each step down the creaking staircase, the sound of your own breath echoing in the silence. As you reach the bottom, you pause, listening intently.

And then, you hear it. A soft sigh, unmistakably familiar. Your stomach makes a flip, recognition dawns on you, and a mix of emotions flood your body. Relief, joy, confusion – all swirling together in a whirlwind of anticipation.

As you approach the living room, the soft glow of the lamp on the side table reveals a figure standing in the doorway. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart pounds in your chest.

Standing in the doorway, with a mix of excitement and nervousness painted across his face, is Simon, who has been on deployment for the last four months, who is still supposed to be deployed for another. 

You almost don't believe your own eyes, contemplating if you’re actually still sleeping and that Simon’s presence is nothing more than a wishful dream, but no, there he stands, tall, strong and real, still dressed in his uniform, a tired but radiant smile on his face. 

“Simon?” you whisper, your voice trembling with disbelief.

“Hi, lovie,” his eyes wide with adoration as he takes in the sight of you. You, who are still a little dishevelled from sleep, your beautiful eyes wide with surprise and emotions from his unexpected homecoming and still glowing with the radiance of new motherhood, “I came home.” He says, almost a little sheepishly.    

Emotions surge through you like a tidal wave. Joy, relief, and disbelief blend together, leaving you momentarily speechless. You rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck, holding him tightly as if afraid he might vanish into thin air. But no, you're feeling the solidity of his presence, the familiar scent of his aftershave. You bury your face in his broad chest, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming rush of emotions coursing through you.

As the rain drums against the windows, you both stand there in the darkness, wrapped in a long-awaited reunion. The sound of his steady heartbeat against your ear fills you with a sense of comfort and security while tears stream down your face, a mixture of happiness and the immense weight of the past months without him by your side.

“I can't believe you're home,” you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion. "I missed you so much. We missed you."

Simon holds you tighter, his grip steady and strong. "I missed you too and I'm so sorry I missed the birth," he says, his voice tinged with guilt. "I wanted to be there for you, for both of you." 

You lift your head from his chest and look into his eyes. "Simon, don't you dare blame yourself, I’m not gonna lie, it would have been nice to have you there, but that that just couldn’t be and that’s okay," you say firmly. "Besides you’re here now."

A mixture of relief and gratitude washes over Simon's face. "I was worried," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Worried that I wouldn't be a good dad, that I missed out on too much… Shit, I’m still worried."

You gently cup his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Simon, you are going to be an amazing father," you say, your voice filled with certainty. "Yes, you missed the birth, but you're here now. And you have a lifetime ahead of you to be the best dad our little girl could ever ask for."

Simon's eyes well up with tears, and a mixture of emotions dances across his face. With a shaky voice, he says, “Thank you, love. I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to be the father she deserves. ” 

You smile and press a soft kiss against his lips. "I know you will, Simon," you say. "You already are.”

"Can I see her?" he asks, his voice filled with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

You nod, a radiant smile spreading across your face. "Of course, Simon. Let's go say hi to your daughter."

Together, you make your way up the stairs, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silence of the night. The door to the nursery creaks open, revealing a dimly lit space adorned with soft toys and a crib. As you enter, Simon's eyes are immediately drawn to the tiny figure nestled in the crib, her eyes fluttering in sleep.

Simon's gaze shifts from you to the sleeping baby, his breath catching in his throat. 

His eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions. He reaches out, his hand hovering above her delicate cheek, as if unsure of how to proceed. You place your hand over his, guiding him gently to make contact with the soft, warm skin of your daughter, his fingers lightly brushing against the delicate skin of her cheek. A smile spreads across his face, a mixture of awe and wonder.

"She's perfect," he whispers, his voice filled with awe. "Absolutely perfect."

You watch as Simon's eyes well up with tears, his hand trembling ever so slightly as he continues to stroke her cheek. The connection between father and daughter is palpable, an unspoken bond forming in that very moment.

You can't help but smile at his words, feeling your heart swell with love for both Simon and your daughter. It's a moment of pure magic, witnessing Simon's transformation into a father, his worries and doubts fading away.

"She has your eyes," You say, your voice filled with a mixture of pride and adoration. "And your smile."

This comment makes Simon let out a choked sound.

“Do you want to hold her?” You ask, bewitched by the view of your daughter and her father meeting for the first time.

He nods, his eyes never leaving the little girl, but you catch the glimps of insecuritie that flickers over his face as he does so. “I’m scared of doing something wrong though, I’ve never hold a baby before…” He confesses, his voice low to not wake your daughter. 

“You won’t do anything wrong, Simon I promise,” you asure him. Leaning closer, you gently place your hand on Simon’s, guiding it to cradle your daughter's tiny body. His touch is gentle, his fingers instinctively supporting her fragile frame. The look of awe on his face intensifies as he holds her for the first time.

"She's so tiny," he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and awe. "I can't believe she's ours." Simon's gaze never wavers from the baby girl in his arms, his touch becoming more confident as he cradles her against his chest. The room is filled with a sense of wonder, the air thick with love and newfound responsibility.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you watch the profound connection between father and daughter deepen. In this moment, you know that Simon's fears were unfounded. He is already a natural, a loving and devoted father.

"You're going to be an incredible dad, Simon," you say, your voice filled with conviction. "You already are."

Simon looks up at you, his eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for bringing her into our lives, for supporting me, for everything."

You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss against Simon's jaw. "We're a family now," you whisper, your words filled with love. "We’re in this together.”

As you stand there, Simon cradling your daughter in his arms, you know that this moment is just the beginning of a lifetime of love, laughter, and cherished moments. And with Simon by your side, you are filled with a sense of gratitude and excitement for the beautiful family you have created together.

"She's so lucky to have you." you say, your voice filled with conviction. 

Simon looks at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of gratitude and determination. "I'll do everything in my power to be the father she deserves," he promises, his voice filled with a newfound sense of purpose. 

You smile at him, feeling how your heart flutters from happiness. “You already are, Si.” 

You stand beside him, watching the scene unfold before you. The sight of Simon, tall, broad, strong, Simon, reduced to a gentle giant by the presence of his daughter, warms your heart in ways you never thought possible.

As you observe the encounter between father and daughter, you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Gratitude for Simon's safe return, for the love that fills your home, and for the future that lies ahead – a future where your family is complete once again.

[code-pain]

Day[481]

Jack: If you think I’m playing favorites, you’re wrong. I love all of you equally!

Jack, earlier: I don’t care for protagonist.

[respectthepetty]

I love Fight for You. I love these two. I love that they are color-coded boys in love. I love that they are playing gay chicken. I love that the entirety of episode six was just them thirsting over each other. I LOVE IT!

Da Hei is looking disrespectfully at Xiao Bai's Adam's apple as he reverses.

And I love it! Especially because even though Da Hei is still dark and Xiao Bai is still light, they are blending each other's colors into their outfits.

And I love that Da Hei gets to appreciate when his man takes of his tie after a long day, unbuttons his shirt to expose a little of his chest, and rolls up his sleeves so we can see his arm veins.

Yeah, we know buddy. Guys are hot when they work all day and come home to you practically begging for you to rub their . . . neck.

But then Da Hei gets his revenge by giving Xiao Bai a taste of his own medicine.

~Xiao Bai wanted it~

Because I want it. Look at him!

But what I love the most is how soft these two are with each other even when they are upset.

Xiao Bai is beautiful, and Da Hei touches him with a gentleness reserved for fawns just so he doesn't scare him.

So when Xiao Bai imagines more happening, he is also gentle with Da Hei, first touching his eyebrow, then his nose, which slowly leads him to his mouth.

And even in his imagination, Da Hei kisses EACH ONE of his knuckles softly.

Which ends with a light kiss on his thumb!

I'M OBSESSED!

I LOVE THEM!!!!!!!

This dream sequence is giving me everything!

But the problem is it's all just a dream.

So now Da Hei is standing outside the door by himself saying that he wasn't joking when he asked Xiao Bai if he wanted to be with him, and Xiao Bai is in the room getting darker in his blue as he is realizing how his feelings for Da Hei are about to mess up the entire mission.

He might be miserable, but like Da Hei, I'm living my best life because this show is favorite kind of color-coded drug.

Because Xiao Bai is so deep into this that now both of the most important people in Da Hei's life fully approve of him being in a relationship with another man and show it through the pink coloring as they speak to him.

They are a PFLAG family now!

So "Little White" better claim "Big Black' quickly.

Because when this Black Brooder finds out that his Heavenly Human has been lying to him this entire time, more than his chin will be hurt.

And I'm gonna love it!

[omiomi]

Master list

Part 6

Code Red: Unfinished Sutures (Part 7)

Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

The first thing Y/N felt was warmth. A slow, steady heat pressed against her skin, traveling through her veins like a quiet reminder that she was still alive.

The second thing she felt was pain. Dull and heavy, curling in her chest with every breath she took.

The third was him.

Baek Kang-Hyuk was slumped forward in a chair beside her, head bowed, his hand wrapped around hers like a lifeline. His grip was strong—almost too tight—but she didn’t mind. It grounded her.

She tried to speak, but her throat was too dry. She swallowed and tried again. “Malak…”

His head shot up so fast she thought he might have hurt himself. Bloodshot eyes met hers, filled with exhaustion, relief, and something deeper—something raw and unguarded.

“Y/N,” he breathed. His voice cracked.

She managed a weak smile. “Did you… cry?”

Baek exhaled sharply, a sound caught between a laugh and a scoff. He rubbed a hand over his face. “You almost died, and that’s the first thing you say?”

Her fingers twitched in his grasp. “Did I?”

His jaw tightened. “You were gone for a moment. You lost so much blood—” He stopped himself, exhaling shakily. “I had to transfuse mine while operating. If you had—”

He broke off.

Y/N’s chest ached, but not from her injuries. She had seen Baek serious before, even afraid, but never like this. Never like he was standing on the edge of something he couldn’t bear to lose.

“You saved me,” she murmured.

Baek let out a breath, slow and unsteady. “I couldn’t let you die. Not after everything. Not after waiting so damn long for you to be ready.”

Y/N frowned. “Ready?”

“For us.” His fingers tightened around hers. “For you to find your own reason to live. Your own identity outside of this place. So that when you chose to come with me, it would be because you wanted to, not because I asked you to.”

Her heart clenched. “Kang-Hyuk…”

He shook his head. “I never wanted to take you away from Black Wings if you weren’t ready. I never wanted you to follow me just because of what we have. But damn it, Y/N—” His voice broke. “I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Y/N stared at him, her breath shallow.

It was always unspoken between them. A love tangled between stitches, between lives saved and lost, between the battlefield and the quiet moments in between. They had never needed to say it.

But now, with the weight of near-death between them, silence wasn’t enough.

She reached up with trembling fingers and cupped his cheek. His breath hitched, eyes dark and searching.

“Then take me with you,” she whispered.

His whole body went still.

She let out a small, shaky laugh. “I don’t know how to live outside of this place. But if you’ll have me, I’ll learn. I want to learn.”

Baek inhaled sharply, as if trying to hold himself together. But then, in the next moment, he was leaning in—so close she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips.

“Say it again,” he murmured.

Her heart pounded. “Take me with you.”

Baek Kang-Hyuk closed the space between them.

The kiss was everything and nothing like she imagined. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was steady, certain. A vow sealed between them, whispered through lips that had seen too much war and too little peace.

She melted into him, fingers curling into his shirt, and Baek held her like he never intended to let go.

And for once, he wouldn’t have to.

Because this time, she was choosing him, too.

—

Y/N hated feeling weak.

She had spent years training her body, sharpening her skills, surviving war zones most people wouldn’t last a day in. But now, she was stuck in a hospital bed, her body stitched together by Baek’s hands and sheer luck.

She let out a slow breath, shifting slightly against the pillows. Even that small movement sent a dull ache rippling through her body.

“Don’t even think about moving,” Baek’s voice came from the doorway.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. He had been hovering ever since she woke up, and though she’d never admit it, a part of her found it… comforting.

Baek walked into the room, carrying a tray. “Brought you food,” he said, setting it down on the table beside her. “You need to eat.”

She eyed the tray suspiciously. “Did you make it?”

Baek scoffed. “You think I have time to cook?”

“Then I might actually eat it.”

Baek gave her a dry look but didn’t argue. Instead, he adjusted the blankets around her—fussily, she noted—and sat down on the chair beside her bed.

Y/N studied him for a moment. His face was sharper than usual, dark circles under his eyes, his usual cocky smirk replaced by something quieter.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

Baek shrugged. “Since we got back.”

She frowned. “That was—”

“Two weeks ago.”

She blinked. Two weeks?

“You haven’t left?”

Baek leaned back, crossing his arms. “Where the hell else would I be?”

Before she could respond, a sudden knock interrupted them.

Baek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “That’s them.”

“Them?”

Before he could explain, the door swung open, revealing three unfamiliar faces.

“Finally!” Jae-Won stepped inside, arms crossed. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up, you know.”

Beside him, Jang-Mi with neatly tied hair and a clipboard tucked under her arm sighed. “Dr. Baek has been an absolute menace these past two weeks. You’ve caused us so much trouble.”

Gyeong-Won nodded quickly. “We had to drag him out of here just to make sure he didn’t pass out.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, glancing at Baek. “They sound like they know you well.”

Baek pinched the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately.”

Y/N blinked at them, then turned to Baek. “So these are the people keeping you in check?”

Baek exhaled. “Barely.”

Jae-won grinned. “He’s been a pain in the ass ever since he got back. Snapping at everyone, refusing to leave this room—”

“I was not snapping—”

“—and scaring the interns half to death,” Jang-Mi finished.

Y/N smirked. “Sounds about right.”

Baek shot her an unimpressed look.

Jae-won nudged her foot lightly, careful not to touch any of her injuries. “But seriously. He’s been out of his mind worried about you.”

Y/N glanced at Baek, who was suddenly very interested in the floor.

She softened.

“Well,” she said, meeting Baek’s gaze. “I’m still here.”

Baek exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he murmured. “You are.”

And for the first time since waking up, she let herself breathe.

—

The hospital rooftop was quiet, the city lights stretching endlessly beyond the railing. A cool breeze carried the scent of rain, the sky painted in hues of deep blue and fading gold.

Y/N stood at the edge, leaning against the railing, the wind playing with the loose strands of her hair. She inhaled deeply, letting the crisp air fill her lungs.

She was alive.

The thought had settled into her bones over the past few weeks, but it still felt… surreal. Black Wings was behind her now. The life she had known—the one that had once defined her—was gone. And yet, here she was. Still standing.

“You shouldn’t be up here.”

She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Baek.

“You say that every time,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

Baek stood a few feet away, hands in the pockets of his white coat, watching her with that same unreadable expression he always wore when he was thinking too much.

Y/N smirked. “Shouldn’t you be working, Dr. Baek?”

“I should be.” He stepped closer. “But you’re more important.”

Something in her chest tightened.

He stopped beside her, resting his arms on the railing as he looked out over the city. For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then—

“What now?”

Baek’s voice was quiet, but there was something beneath it. A careful question.

Y/N let out a breath. “I don’t know.”

Baek hummed. “Liar.”

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

His gaze flickered to her. “You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”

She hesitated, then exhaled. “I’ll stay.”

Baek didn’t react at first. Then, slowly, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“I knew you’d come around.”

Y/N scoffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Baek chuckled, shaking his head. But there was something warm in his expression, something that made her feel steady, like she wasn’t just floating in uncertainty anymore.

Like she belonged.

After a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hospital ID. He held it up between them, the dim light reflecting off the plastic.

Her name was printed on it.

Y/N stared. “You—”

“I pulled some strings,” Baek said casually. “Figured you’d need a place to start.”

Y/N took the ID slowly, running her fingers over the letters. Dr. Y/N.

Her throat tightened.

She looked up at Baek, finding him already watching her.

“Welcome to the team, Malaika,” he said softly.

Y/N swallowed.

Then, before she could second-guess herself, she reached for his hand.

Baek blinked, caught off guard, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled around hers, warm and steady.

For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid of the future.

Because this time, she wasn’t facing it alone.

—

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store hummed softly overhead, casting a sterile glow over the aisles lined with instant meals, snacks, and drinks. It was a quiet night, the streets outside empty save for a few distant headlights, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Baek Kang-Hyuk had nothing to do but stand beside Y/N as she debated which ramyeon to buy.

She tapped her chin in exaggerated thought. “Should I get spicy or extra spicy?”

Baek gave her a flat look. “You cried last time you had extra spicy.”

Y/N gasped, clutching her chest as if personally wounded. “I did not!”

Baek smirked. “You did. You downed three bottles of milk after, and then you swore you were ‘never eating again.’”

She huffed, turning back to the shelf. “Maybe I was just being dramatic.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe?”

Y/N swatted his arm. “Fine. I’ll get the regular spicy.” Then she turned to him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “And you, Dr. Baek? Still going for the mild one?”

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed a cup of spicy ramyeon and tossed it into the basket. “I can handle spice.”

“Sure you can, Malak,” she said, smirking as she walked to the register.

Baek followed her, shaking his head but smiling.

As they reached the counter, the elderly cashier glanced up at them, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Newlyweds?” she asked, ringing up their items.

Baek choked on air.

Y/N, however, just grinned, tilting her head playfully. “Something like that.”

And just like that, the warmth in Baek’s chest grew a little stronger.

—

The world outside their window was slowly waking up—birds chirping, the occasional car passing by—but inside their small apartment, everything was still and quiet.

Baek stirred first, his body instinctively attuned to early mornings, but the weight against his chest made him hesitate before moving.

Y/N was curled up against him, her face buried in his shirt, her breathing slow and even. One of her arms was draped over his stomach, her fingers loosely curled against his side as if she had fallen asleep mid-thought.

Baek sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He had never been the type to stay in bed longer than necessary, but this—having her warm and safe in his arms—made the idea of moving seem absurd.

A soft mumble escaped Y/N’s lips.

Baek glanced down. “Did you just call me ‘Malak’ in your sleep?”

She groaned, shifting but not pulling away. “Shut up.”

He smirked. “Never.”

Y/N buried her face deeper into his chest. “Five more minutes.”

Baek exhaled, shaking his head. “Hopeless.”

But he tightened his hold around her and closed his eyes again. Maybe, just this once, he could stay.

—

The soft strumming of a song played from Y/N’s phone, filling their small living room with a gentle melody. She swayed lightly to the rhythm, barefoot, the fading sunset casting golden light over her figure.

Baek sat on the couch, arms crossed, watching her with an amused expression.

“You know I don’t dance,” he said.

Y/N turned to him, hands on her hips. “You stitch people up like it’s nothing, but this scares you?”

He frowned. “It’s different.”

She grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. “It’s not. You just follow my lead.”

Baek hesitated, then let out a resigned sigh. He let her place his hands on her waist as she rested hers lightly on his shoulders.

“Just sway,” she murmured, guiding him in slow, simple movements.

At first, he was stiff, too focused on getting it right, but Y/N smiled up at him—so effortlessly, so freely—and something in him melted.

He exhaled, relaxing into the rhythm.

Then, without thinking, he twirled her.

She let out a surprised laugh, her joy infectious. “Look at you, Dr. Baek. Who knew you had moves?”

He smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

Y/N rested her forehead against his, her voice softer now. “Too late.”

And as they swayed in the quiet of their home, Baek realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind dancing as much as he thought.

—

Baek had always been the type to focus intensely when studying, while Y/N had a habit of making notes… and then promptly falling asleep in the middle of them.

Tonight was no different.

He looked up from his textbook to find her slumped over the table, her head resting on her folded arms, soft breaths escaping her lips. Highlighters and open medical journals were scattered around her, her pen still loosely gripped in her fingers.

Baek sighed, shaking his head. “Hopeless,” he muttered under his breath.

Carefully, he pushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen over her face, tucking them behind her ear. He let his fingers linger for just a moment, tracing the soft curve of her cheek before exhaling.

Then, without waking her, he scooped her up in his arms.

Y/N stirred slightly, her head lolling against his shoulder. “Where we going…?” she murmured sleepily.

“To bed,” he said softly.

“Mmm… ‘kay,” she mumbled, curling into his warmth.

Baek chuckled. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Even half-asleep, she smirked. “You love me.”

And damn it, she was right.

Baek exhaled softly, tightening his hold on her as if to ground himself in the reality that she was still here—warm, breathing, alive.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice rough with quiet conviction. “I do.”

Y/N made a sleepy sound of acknowledgment, her fingers curling weakly into his shirt, as if she knew, as if she had always known.

Baek carried her through the dimly lit hall, each step feeling heavier with the weight of everything they had been through. The fear of almost losing her, the years of waiting for her to be ready, the desperate, selfish need to keep her in his life.

But now, for the first time, he wasn’t just holding onto a memory or a fleeting moment. He was holding her—his future, his reason to keep going.

And this time, she was holding on just as tightly.

End

Taglist: @study-with-reine234 @redhoodedtoad @celestialstar111 @ryujinxzyy @urfictional

Thank you for accompanying me throughout Malak and Malaika’s journey! i hope we all find someone like Malak who would wait for us, and someone like Malaika who is worth waiting for. fear not, we’ll certainly see more of them in side stories and one shots!

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 28/12

Anonymous asked: In the same vein as the Seer of Light/Witch of Space fakeout in the human session: do you think any of the trolls seem to not fit their assigned classpects, to reject it and imitate another, or to trade classes or aspects with another troll?

It's hard to tell if a given character fits their Title, when I don't know what each Title is supposed to symbolize.

Eridan, for example, didn't originally seem to evoke Hope. When I realized his 'hope' was essentially romantic delusion, it started to make a little more sense - but I have no idea if that's actually compatible with the Aspect's true meaning. We've only seen one Hope Player, so we don't know which aspects (lol) of his story are Hope-themed, and which are just Eridan being Eridan.

@relaxxattack asked: COMPLETELY unexpected coming from me (lol); but i doubt scratch, omniscient as he is, completely misunderstands slick’s motivations. i read it that perhaps slick’s emotional investment really is preventing him from killing snowman, despite all his lip service otherwise. i mean why else would scratch resort to auspisticism, the role made for breaking apart inconvenient pitch couples? plus all the brawler-like violence and threats of death— it really seems like he does need to force slick to cooperate and kill her

I kind of like that, actually. It would be pretty fun if Slick, of all people, managed to ruin Scratch's plans - and by having a heart, to boot!

@manorinthewoods asked: Proposal for the future: Whenever a flashback occurs, you take a guess as to whether or not it is a Dream Bubble. ~LOSS (14/12/24)

Yeah, I might actually give this a shot. I feel like I could do a pretty decent job of discerning whether a flashback is a Bubble, just based on whether the characters involved are currently unconscious or dead - although I can clearly still be fooled.

Anonymous asked: If Terezi hadn't been convinced beforehand (by Gamzee somehow?!) that Vriska was killing at random and absolutely had to go, I couldn't help but imagine at the time that Terezi COULD have saved Vriska if she tried, proving luck doesn't matter… by pulling a Harvey Dent and swapping her coin for a clean double-sided scratchless one just before flipping it, which her luck-stealing couldn't possibly make land scratched. It even would have proved to Vriska that she can't account for everything.

That would be pretty crafty, and I really like her hypothetical style - but honestly, I think Vriska was too far gone to be talked down. The fact that she stole that coin's luck in every timeline makes me think it was probably impossible to make her stay.

@caliquill asked: early in the liveblog you identified a Strider Ramble as a stress ramble. so it delights me that you have finally seen a TRUE Strider Stress Ramble. everything comes full circle.

Oh, true! Man, that's a deep cut.

I should have known, really. It's a pretty consistent character trait for Dave to get less ironic as he gets stressed - we already saw that at play in Davesprite's timeline.

@martinkhall asked: A lot of people seem to miss that he found his quest bed. Reading through his posts again this time I find myself wondering between his "dear departed family" and his imps being described as "sportitive rascals" if he prototyped a dead son. That sounds like a phrase that could descibe a young boy.

Aw man, that's heartbreakingly plausible. If we don't see Fedorafreak's story concluded in-universe, I will absolutely be looking for good Fedorafics when I'm done with the comic.

@bellcarved asked: you know, with the mention of a server player, i'm now imagining somebody else watching through the build menu and sending fedorafreak messages during this whole thing. "ff, i have the code for a bottle of water, and it only costs one unit of build grist. stop drinking your urine and generally treating this like a wilderness survival show, you are going to die. ff please respond."

Our man chose 'freak' as his handle for a reason. <3

@morganwick asked: Note that when Fedorafreak combines his pants with his shirt, it produces a "useless, excessively tall pant". This was after Pantskat had already become a meme.

It's so funny that this one wonky panel became so much of a meme. You just know that if Homestuck was ten years younger, it would have turned into an Among Us joke.

Anonymous asked: I think at one point Hussie said that fedorafreak's title would be the "gent of piss" but it's rather likely that they were just being silly. I also think that the title of a hope player would befit fedorafreak :) @marinerofthestars asked: for some incomprehensible reason hussie did in fact give us canon/‘canon’ fedorafreak lore on his formspring. he has the Title Gent of Piss and his server player (who survived at least long enough to get him into the medium) is 2busy4this (iirc they don’t actually appear elsewhere in the comic. guess hussie was. too busy for them) @morganwick asked: I believe Hussie has said that Fedorafreak's title is Gent of Piss. @skelekingfeddy asked: according to hussie fedorafreaks classpect is the Gent of Piss

Disrespecting our king! I have to assume that was a joke, because FedoraFreak deserves so much better than the Piss Aspect. I like Gent, though.

I was going to say I hoped that 2busy4this was able to enter the session - but really, that just means they'll die by Tumor, rather than meteor.

@morganwick asked: It was actually Fedorafreak's appearance on page 2918 that arguably made him a meme with the fandom.

It's been fun checking in with our king as we progress through the comic. I assume his memetic status is due to drinking his own urine - hence, the 'Gent of Piss' title that Hussie apparently saddled him with.

@clueless-rarito asked: Damn when I first read it didn't really sink in how fucked up the whole derse suicide mission situation was and how heartbreaking their whole conversation about it was. It's really the kind of thing you get a lot more from seeing someone else react to it

It's so twisted, isn't it? These poor children just want to protect each other, but each of them is convinced that the only way to do so is to die. Homestuck is so fucked sometimes.

@morganwick asked: Not to be too alarmist or presumptuous, but: did you not have anything to say about pages 3918-3920, or did your post(s) on those pages get eaten or otherwise lost?

Honestly, I just didn't have any commentary about them. They really just continued to depict the gradual return of John's memories, which I'd already talked about.

Sometimes I simply don't have that much to say about a given panel, even when the current arc is as exposition-heavy as this one. They can't all be mini-essays, y'know?

@wickedsick asked: Do you think Ghost John x Davesprite would count as…. Doomed yaoi?

Ayyyyyy!

@suroboro asked: So what you're saying is… that Terezi has gone Blind with Rage? (0;

Ayyyyyyyyyy!

Anonymous asked: after you finish homestuck you should 100% check out tumblr user meraki-sunset's crow strider au - it's wildly spoilery but i think as a davesprite lover you will enjoy it

Ah, yes, I'm pretty sure I know about this one! I've also been sent some of the artist's (non-spoilery) art, which looks absolutely gorgeous. It's definitely on the list!

Anonymous asked: This whole section is one of my favorite parts of Homestuck. All the conversations are so genuine and emotional, quiet and intimate, building anticipation but also savoring the moments they have before the end… ough. I gotta say, though it's probably the aspect I've understood the least since my classpecting phase, you really do strike me as Life oriented with a lot of the things you say :P

I still really llke the idea of being a Life Player - partially because I tend to gravitate towards healing, regeneration and resurrection abilities in games. I love getting tanky as fuck in Terraria, for example.

@manorinthewoods submitted: You know who, specifically, could have prevented Perfect Jack if she'd listened to her Denizen? Vriska. Vriska made the Choice that caused Bec Noir, unwittingly. If she hadn't, and if Denizen Choices truly do allow you to alter your own fate, then Jack never would have entered the troll session. Of course, whatever choice Vriska made to ensure Bec Noir's creation must have been earlier than the Veil. Potentially even in the presession! But if she just hadn't been Vriska, then… ~LOSS (19/12/24)

Wait, does it have to be earlier than the Veil? I don't think Vriska should even know about the kids' session until the game has already ended. Did I misapprehend some aspect of that plotline?

@krixwell asked: Worth considering in light of these revelations about Denizens and Typheus in particular: the parcel pyxis system, which fairly consistently takes things where they need to be. If Typheus controls the Breeze on LoWaS, he's basically the local mailman.

Heh, I like that. Perhaps that's why the Breeze will 'carry you to where need to go' - because it's being controlled by a postman, and a postman knows the destination of every package they handle.

@ramdomartkid asked: What do you think about the theory of the kids being homeschooled? As mensioned before, John never talks ab other ppl that aren't hs characters, (and aren't his neighbors) but he also never mentions why he's not at school at the beginning (or a b-day party with classmates) Same goes 4 Dave but Bro doesn't rl have that much motivation to put Dave in school in the first place. Less time for training. Rose…idk same as John And then Jade bc it's canon But that's just a theory…a webcomic theory (sorry if there are errors in grammar, english isnt my native language)

16:13 is fairly late in the afternoon, so John might have just returned from a day at school. I do think the homeschooling theory has merit, though - particularly with Dave, for the reasons you've already stated.

And yeah, Jade sort of had to be homeschooled if she was going to have any formal education at all. It would have ended pretty early, though. :(

@corporalotherbear asked:

LMAO

I feel like an identical exchange has occurred between Rose and Mom Lalonde.

@necrowyrm asked: In the past I thought of you as "thew" due to those being the letters I typed into Tumblr to search you. Recently, Tumblr has demanded an additional letter, so you are now "Thewe" (pronounced completely differently)

From thoo to thooie. It feels like I'm going through a Pokemon evolution!

Anonymous asked: You know that dream Dave talked about? Someone decided to illustrate it and GOODDAMN did they cook!

God damn, you were not kidding. This is such a macabre interpretation of the description he gave, and I love it.

@skelekingfeddy asked: ok im finally continuing with this quadrant ask series lol. i do think theres a side of propaganda to the quadrant system, despite what ive said about it. because even though its based around biological/evolutionary impulses…so is humanity’s concept of heteronormativity. the quadrants are a rather rigid, inflexible system, which is enforced by threat of DEATH. im willing to bet that, for example, certain trolls may feel only red attraction, or only black attraction, or only concupiscent attraction, or only conciliatory attraction, or zero quadrant-based attraction at all, or feel attraction completely outside of the quadrant system. the taboo against polyamory in one quadrant, like you’ve said several times already, is another flaw with the system. the quadrants system is predicated upon biology, sure, but so is cis/heteronormativity. i dunno, this is just my analysis of the quadrants xp idk if hussie was actually thinking about any of this when he was writing hs haha……

I pretty much agree with your take on quadrant propaganda.

In my opinion, any rigid framework of relationships - be it ours, Alternia's, or another - will inevitably fail to describe the full spectrum of possible relationship dynamics. Not every human is straight, gay or bi, and not every troll wants hearts, spades, clubs and diamonds.

Anonymous asked: wanna uh, put in my input on that kismessitude thread someone else sent to you. i disagree for a lot of spoilery reasons but mostly i just want to point out some things regarding a few specific assertions "jack and the queen's romance is tragic and meant to be compared to mom and dad, and the tragedy is unrelated to their romance" yes, mom and dad getting killed by jack noir is like, completely unrelated to their romance. they were literally just vibing and they got murked, would have been the same if it was a platonic hang out and they werent flirting at all. i buy that. we can't really compare that to jack noir and the queen, though, since jack kills the queen over the harlequin costuming. jacks and black queens are constantly attacking each other (over their several incarnations at this point i think they've lost like, 3 limbs between them and an eye. and of course jack killed her too in their like, third scene together). i just don't know how we're supposed to take that as 1. tragic given that a lot of the time it's played for slapstick comedy or "lol look at how much they hate each other" or 2. unrelated from their pitch romance. the dynamic of their pitch romance is them tormenting each other and in one case it ends with jack murdering the black queen. that's not equivalent to dad & mom. also, a few other points: i don't know how we're supposed to take the tavros & vriska stuff, because while they are definitely toxic, they seem to be pursuing each other in the RED quadrant, not in pitch… and it feels like the standards for toxicity are different there. also, something really important: eridan doesn't say anything about 'kismessitudes ending in death' in that conversation on page 2343. he says "CA: you could either play along as our auspistice and do a little mediating like you wwere fuckin hatched to CA: or wwatch she and me devvolvve into fuckin full fledged kismesisses the kind like you dont get once in ten thousand swweeps". the only mention of death here is in terms of COLLATERAL damage, not of them killing each other. eridan talks about killing all landdwellers (but not his friends, because theyre not like other girls i mean lowbloods! man the writing was on the wall with him). not about killing vriska. and this tracks way more with what alternia is like, for me personally- they don't care what two individuals do to each other, but when it begins to interfere with empire on a larger scale, then they would like a mechanism to break it up. ultimately, quadrants are something that WILL come up again in homestuck (spoilers, but i feel like that's obvious, lol. you have another what, 5000 pages?), so you'll get to form your own opinion on it. i just felt really baffled about the arguments because they… felt like they were missing contexts or taking leaps, so i thought i would weigh in. no hate to the other commentator! homestuck quadrant discussion is fun to me.

Interesting thoughts here, in response to a submission about quadrants from earlier in the year.

I don't think I'd ever personally call Jack/Black Queen 'tragic' - but I wouldn't use them as a model for troll kismessitude either way. They're a different species, so they're going to have different standards.

As for Vriska/Tavros…. to be honest, I don't think you could really quadrant them in a way that makes sense. Vriska hated Tavros too much for hearts, but didn't respect him enough for spades. As for Tavros, I don't think he's ever wanted anything to do with Vriska.

Anonymous asked: You might have noticed the unique Strife artstyle in this section of the story. These sprites were created by the art team for a Strife flash that never came to fruition. Now that you've seen the content that was made in place of that flash, I believe it's not a spoiler to send Hussie's commentary on his original plans. What are your thoughts on this alternate path and do you prefer the way the story was ultimately presented? What do you feel about his discussion of pros and cons? (1/2)

Sadly, I don't think we received the second half of this submission. I have been enjoying the artstyle of the recent arc - and if you resubmit Hussie's commentary on it, I'd love to take a look!

Anonymous asked: What mystical powers would the Dave of Guy title give a player? What insane abilities would the class of 'Dave' and the aspect of 'Guy' have?. ~DJ

David means beloved, and Guy is the name of a famous revolutionary.

Therefore, I believe the Dave of Guy would be 'beloved' by the very concept of disagreement, revolution and rebellion. In other words, the Aspect would always favor them, causing situations involving it to resolve in their favor.

If they argued against you, they'd win. If they fought against an institution, that institution would crumble. As long as they were fighting against some status quo, fate would smile on them.

Anonymous asked: If stuff about voice actors blows your mind, Casey Mongillo and Kira Buckland both got their start voicing Karkat and Vriska respectively in Youtube animations. Also "The idea of a work of fiction that subverts or wholly rejects the notion of ‘canon’ is pretty interesting, and on an academic level, it would be kind of cool to analyze it." Have you heard of this little show called Doctor Who? Because "there is no canon" is the position of the brand. I can elaborate on why if you're interested.

Oh, interesting! I was actually thinking about Doctor Who while answering that ask, because the idea of a story that stopped caring about its own lore was an unwelcome reminder of Moffat's era on the show.

I'd be really interested in hearing your thoughts on Doctor Who re: canon discourse, if you're willing to send!

Anonymous asked: i think you should talk about moffat

I was very tempted to compile a full essay summarizing my thoughts on Moffat, but I don't really have the time right now. Rest assured, some day I will absolutely go off on the Moffat era of Doctor Who - and let's not even talk about Sherlock.

@manorinthewoods asked: You may not be able to imagine Nepeta and Eridan being pals, but all the Erinep shippers certainly could. ~LOSS (15/12/24)

Please tell me their ship name is catfish.

@bladekindeyewear submitted: Now that the clock has “landed” on Just for Vriska, I wanted to talk a bit about how a WHILE back you pointed out Terezi’s coin flip as a crucial moment of morality… to me at the time, I believed that if any moment doomed her to a Just death, it was Vriska’s actions around that coin flip, that it was more important than just a narrative performance: Terezi was begging Vriska to leave even a SHRED OF CHANCE in the hands of the trolls to have her stay instead of leave, to give the other trolls even the last of a gambler’s luck of a collective say in whether or not she pursued this course of action that endangered them, and she stole it. Made it a constant across all timelines. I think that’s what crossed the last line of moral ambiguity, that she would not allow her friends a shred of agency over how reality unfolded… except to kill her. I felt THAT is what forced it to be Just, and that injustice is indeed perhaps a matter of trampling over the rights of others.

Perhaps, perhaps.

Mind you, I don't know if it's necessarily always a good or heroic thing to allow a Sburb Player full agency over their actions, nor is it necessarily a bad thing to restrict them, in certain cases.

If Eridan, for example, had been allowed to live his truth on the Veil, no lowblood would have made it out of there alive - and I wouldn't necessarily bet on the highbloods' survival, either. Kanaya was absolutely in the right when she cleaved his agency into two roughly equal pieces.

Vriska was definitely in the wrong when she rigged the coin, but I don't think it was because she didn't allow her friends agency - it was because she was going to get everyone killed. If Vriska had rigged a game against, say, Gamzee, and stopped his rampage as a result, she'd absolutely be doing something heroic, no matter now much she was trampling on his agency to do so.

@manorinthewoods asked: I am rereading my favorite HS fanfic, Like One Sundered Star, to research for Slurb (Sally Sburb), and I have determined that it may be viable liveblogging material, at least towards the second half. Unfortunately, it's image-poor, incredibly long, has a slow and almost a bit weak beginning, is less blog-dense, and also requires a different fanfic to be read first if you want to understand what happened at the start. ~LOSS (14/12/24)

That's the one that's as long as Worm, right? I'm definitely not saying no, but I also think I'd need a lot more free time to do it.

Plus, the lack of images, I think, would throw me off. That said, I did consider liveblogging Worm itself, back when I was reading it. I do think I could liveblog an entirely text-based story, but I'd probably have to rethink my approach.

@securitycapecreature asked: John kissed rose to save her live, same with jade kissing dave, karkats shipping chart is coming true before our very eyes

For a bisexual alien, his shipping is awfully straight, isn't it? I still think Rose/Jade makes much more sense than Rose/John.

@elkian asked: Game rec for Sally: I think you'd enjoy In Stars And Time, a tragicomic timeloop game. There's a handful of Homestuck references (including in the SASASAP artbook) and the humor+gameplay concepts are reminiscent of Undertale but it stands on its own. I'd actually strongly rec playing Start Again: A Prologue first, it's about 2-ish hours and sets the stage for ISAT. Both are really funny which I didn't expect from glancing at the promos so putting that there

I saw that one trending on Tumblr recently, and I'm a sucker for time travel stories. It's on the list!

Anonymous asked: Theres been fun discussion of the way homestuck uses the word play in meta gaming sense but noone's mentioned the word act yet have they? That's not a game word, that's an THEATER word. entire narrative of Homestuck is structured like a play script: it's separated into acts, narration is stage direction, all the dialogue is PLAYER DIALOGUE bc all the characters are actors playing their roles. and if you fuck up your role you get kicked out and REPLACED. exiles arent just npcs theyre STAGEHANDS

Ooh, I like these musings. It reminds me of how the Locked Tomb short story The Unwanted Guest plays with the idea of theatre as a metaphor. Taz Muir's Homestuck phase strikes again!

@bladekindeyewear asked: As we edge ever closer toward this Act’s inevitable conclusion, you asked if for a theory recap we could compile some of the DISPROVEN theories for you— and I’m sure we’ll find a good few to run by you for fun. Though the original Homestuck forums and threads are irrecoverable so much has been lost. But one of the things troubling me is this: Homestuck’s mysteries can be DEEP, leaving much implied. What about theories we formed at the time that were NEVER fully confirmed, might still be important, and which we shouldn’t even be implying to you whether there was any more evidence later because THAT would be a spoiler in and of itself? I think that’s what’s been getting me to hound you the most about opportunities to suggest more theories about stuff from past pages and thoughts we had SOLELY based on evidence we had AT THE TIME or earlier, because sometimes there may be shit amasses circumstantial evidence so many layers deep without EVER being confirmed, because as Andrew liked to put it, “Homestuck is a story that is also a puzzle”. And this onion has some deep effin’ layers we wouldn’t have even THOUGHT we might have reached without working together for years rereading this beast. If you’re still going about it solo, I thought at the end of this act you could use some of the keys we THOUGHT we found DURING this past act that we believed were finally unlocking deeper layers to squeeze twice as much juice or more out of every page.

See, the main problem here is that if a theory was never confirmed, then knowing about it sort of implicitly spoils parts of the comic. The more I know about what won't happen, the closer I get to knowing what will happen.

Therefore, I'm going to say 'not until much later on'. The kind of meta you're talking about would be absolutely fascinating to me, but I think it'd change my perception of the comic too much while I'm still liveblogging.

Anonymous asked: Jade on the page 3946 looks like those weird worms (worm on a string) :D

It's time to come off the string, Jadesprite. Release your true power!

Anonymous asked: You probably have a hundred of these by now, but at some point, those mini-side-story banners get hover-over Alt Text, so keep an eye out for that. Anonymous asked: don't forget to look at the top panels in this section :) rockernator2 asked: Don't know if anyone else has told you this, but there is (or is going to be) alt text on the upper pictures. Anonymous asked: make sure you keep an eye on what's happening at the top of the page! Anonymous asked: You've probably gotten at least one mention of this already, but if you haven't noticed it, it's worthwhile to look at the "banner" at the top of the page starting on page 3797. @bananonbinary asked: psst in true doc scratch fashion, the top panels actually have some alt-text if you hover the mouse over them. he's gotta make you work for it. @bananonbinary asked: oh dang oh shoot oh no thats not for a little bit yet i misremembered rip sorry Cat

[probably good to know early so you can watch out for it - C]

Noted! I just took a look back through the entire Scratch Sequence, and there's been no alt-text thus far. I have been worried about missing stuff in this sequence, given that there's so much going on.

@elkian asked: The Mendicant's Mauler Monologue took me the fuck OUT xD @metroid-fusion asked: hey sally the mailbox description joke was really really funny. youre good at homestuck

Something that is both normal to want, and possible to achieve!

I think PM herself would approve, too. She loves choosing violence.

Anonymous asked: "At some point, I'll have to check if any other lands feature musical symbolism." You mean like that giant record turntable thing in LoHaC? :P @sanctferum asked: "At some point, I’ll have to check if any other Lands feature musical symbolism." I don't remember if there's anything like that on LOFAF other than like, frog croaking (and what a musical genre that is! their albums are already sold out on whatever remains of Prospit, I'm sure), but boy does LOHAC not only have a giant CD, but one that's also the session's scratch construct. Dave's destiny must be to drop the sickest mixtape of all time, while trapping the pimp within his crib like it is hot. @wickedsick asked: "At some point, I'll have to check if any other Lands feature musical symbolism."

Yeah, it's definitely a possibility. (in all seriousness, Dave manipulates the stock market through time travel the way a DJ manipulates and mixes songs (represented through vinyls)?)

fucking LOL. This is what I get for liveblogging at 2am, I guess!

@garnetduodecim asked: Technically what doomed the time line wasn’t John dying, it was Dave prototyping Lil’Cal @bladekindeyewear asked: Doomed John said if he hadn't gone to see his Denizen, Dave(sprite) wouldn't go back and fix things so they could exist… but Dave THOUGHT John's death was why he needed to rewind. So what "doomed" the timeline before John even reached his denizen? One frightening possible answer: CALSPRITE. A prototyped Lil Cal wouldn't have been sent to Alternia in the wallet to be the base for Doc Scratch and guide their universe's creation. LIL CAL'S temporal necessity may have killed the timeline!

The order of events isn't entirely clear here, but you're right - Cal might very well have been prototyped before John flew through that Gate.

Future Dave immediately prevented both events when he travelled back, so it's impossible to say for sure - but I like this theory. That damn puppet is just... inescapable.

@pineapple-temporarily-moving asked: jsyk, you seem to have misinterpreted the line about trolls' eyes changing color when they grow up! only their irises change from gray to their blood color, their sclera do stay orange. mindfang is, indeed, old Anonymous asked: Trolls' /irises/ fill in with their blood pigment as they get older, not the orange part. Mindfang probably had blue eyes, we just don't generally get to see characters' irises. @abysswarlock asked: The eye color thing Vriska was saying was that the grey irises fill in with the troll’s blood pigment color, similar to how the kids iris colors match the color they type in @elkian asked: I always read Vriska's "fill in as we age" thing refer to the irises mentioned previously, but it's kind of just interpreted however. And Homestuck has so much symbolism and stylistic choices that it's not really clear lmao. @skelekingfeddy asked: im pretty sure the ‘eyes filling in with their blood color’ refers to their irises not their whole eyes

So no red-eyed Karkat?

0/10. Literally unreadable.

@krixwell asked: You mentioned in the ask compilation you just posted that the Aspects might operate on a meta level as well as a physical. You've already covered Void, but what do you make of the other Aspects through this lens? @heliotropopause asked: "Maybe Aspects can work on a meta level, as well as a literal one. Like, perhaps Void is the aspect of author uncertainty, […]" the meta level is honestly the most interesting aspect to aspects to me, and i'd love to see you have a go at it; there's definitely some analysis to be done there. @ariamaki asked: "Maybe Aspects can work on a meta level" AN IMPORTANT LESSON WAS LEARNED THIS DAY. I would love to hear your (current) thoughts as to what this would mean when expanded out to the other Aspects, because this is something I think about a lot.

So, this is a type of meta interpretation that I do like analyzing - but to be honest, I don't have many other meta interpretations for specific Aspects. Not yet, anyway.

That said, Sburb is essentially a story that forces itself on its Players, so it would be kind of cool if the Titles were part of that forced story, in some abstract way. I have started to wonder if Time and Space might represent plot and setting, respectively - but so far, that's only a half-baked idea. I'll definitely be returning to this idea in the future, when we've seen a little more of the other Aspects.

@galaxa-13 asked: "GT: my feathers are all ruffled, and i can no longer tell my ass apart from a big orange earth vegetable!" The joke here is "I can't tell my ass from [blank]" which is a pretty common saying when you're frustrated and confused. So John is basically saying "Oh yeah, you sure trolled me good! Because that's clearly what you're doing, trolling me. I am so ruffled!" Anonymous asked: For your information, an orange is not a "big orange earth VEGETABLE". Now, try and use your deductive skills to figure out what orange vegetable is being talked about. ~DJ

I know it was referencing a pumpkin, but I've honestly never heard that saying before. Perhaps it's a lot more popular in the US - or perhaps I'm just one of today's lucky 10'000.

Anonymous asked: Based on what you like about the comic (the same stuff I like) I doubt you would like any of the homestuck sequel/continuation stuff other than [one thing]. There's not much technical stuff, and I personally was really put off by the content of the sequels. I know some people like them but homestuck and it's sequels are very different types of stories. Anonymous asked: Regarding the epilogues (and Beyond Canon) to me, they feel like an interesting story - not necessarily things I would think the characters “would ‘actually’do”, but the themes about growing up, young adulthood, and friendships really resonated with me. A lot of the talk about “canonness” went over my head until it was pointed out to me, and I think that enhanced my enjoyment of it - I related to the story being told, and sort of regarded it as less what I thought would “really” happen and more an interesting idea telling me deep truths about myself. @manorinthewoods asked: To chime in on my view of the Epilogues - honestly, I think they are not particularly good, and until James Roach takes over 2 it's not particularly good either. I don't know whether I'd be sure in saying that reading them detracts from Homestuck, but I think I'd be comfortable saying that they are a continuation of what I feel to be a slow downward swing in quality after Act 5 - and an understandable one, given how Hussie must have been going through the mother of all burnout. ~LOSS (10/12/24)

Sounds about right. We had a bit of a chat about this on the Discord, and came to the conclusion that the tie-ins are probably going to be less appealing to me than the comic proper.

I'm going to default to a 'liveblog-lite' format for them, but reserve the right to do a deeper dive if I'm enjoying myself enough to warrant it!

Anonymous asked: In order to make 'Hostess' fit 8 letters, you'd have to use a typing quirk like Mindfang did with the Expatri8. As an example, the Condesce could have named her )(ostess, assuming that all ancestors share their typing quirks with their descendants. ~DJ Anonymous asked: If the main source for the Hostess' life is Mindfang, then yeah she'd probably have an 8 letter title. Otherwise, her title can be whatever number of letters you want. People do like sticking to the 8 letter rule for OCs, but compare - do real humans not often have given names with a different number of letters than 4, and surnames with a different number of letters than 6 or 7? Almost makes you question if all trolls really have 6/6 names.

Plus, the idea that Homestuck humans all have 6/7 letter surnames is a little weak anyway.

Four-letter first names might be a rule, but is a '6/7 letter surname' hypothesis really that much more likely than the hypothesis that there is no rule, and our four surnames are just between six and seven letters long by random chance?

@armchair-factotum asked: "Like, how does Rose’s chalk relate to bringing life back to her oceans? Did Hussie have different Quest in mind for her, back then?" Well, high concentrations of chalk in soil and water raises the pH, which might make it dificult for some plants and animals to live in? The "sand" on her island was all white and potentially made of chalk after all Anonymous asked: To elaborate on how the grist types/WV's items relate to the land quests: Oil is clogging the pipes that are integral to the salamanders' culture, preventing the Breeze from freely blowing through and delivering things, and the clouds trapping the fireflies are either smog from the oil or would normally be kept dispersed by the Breeze. Most of Rose's basic grist types (chalk, lime, marble) are forms of calcium carbonate, which is mostly formed through biological processes in the ocean, particularly through the accumulation of the shells of dead sea creatures like mollusks, corals, and foraminifera; chalk is formed from the skeletons of millions of dead plankton, and other forms of limestone also often contains fossils. Her beaches are the bleached bones of what once swam in the seas. Amber and rust are gumming up the gears of Dave's land, and the winter of Jade's land is implicitly a nuclear one. Last one is kind of ironically resolved by igniting a volcano, given sufficiently powerful eruptions can in theory create a similar winter effect. Not directly relevant, but I invite everyone to look up Verneshots, fun concept related to volcanoes and meteors. I feel like in the alternate Homestuck where the land quests are more explored, Hussie might have worked those in. Even less directly relevant, the term Siberian Trap(s) refers to both a volcanic event and a chess opening, which again I think could have been a fun Battlefield element in a story more focused on Sburb mechanics. @galaxa-13 asked: Rose's chalk related to her quest of bringing life to the ocean in that it was chalk that poisoned the water to begin with. By killing enemies and collecting the chalk grist as loot she was removing the poison.

I really like the implication that the chalk the Imps were dropping actually came from LOLAR's soil - almost like the Underlings themselves were born out of the ground.

And fuck, LOFAF's a nuclear winter! That's so good!

Anonymous asked: just want to take the time to HIGHLY recommend Homestuck Made This World ("a podcast about the critical analysis and contextualization of homestuck") its done by 2 media studies guys and its really great! they end up talking about doc scratch as one of an ongoing series of author figures, starting with the narrator of the comic (obvious), then dave (literally has a conversation that is an edited version of one of hussies chatlogs), bro (shares hussies interests + some anecdotal stuff related to smuppets (listen to the pod)), then hussie the self insert (an escalation of the narrator), and now doc scratch… (spoiler it keeps hapening) Anonymous asked: If you're into podcasts and people discussing Homestuck, you should at some point check out Homestuck Made this World. A podcast by two literature PHDs, one a long time Homestuck fan and one who's never read it before, discussing the comic a couple hundred pages at a time! They have a lot of great discussions, and the longtime fan also provides a lot of context for what was going on in the fandom at the time the pages originally posted.

Noted! I might listen along to it when I finally get around to rereading Homestuck. That's what I did with We've Got Worm.

Anonymous asked: i dont think anyones mentioned yet that the "hiding in an attic from bullies with a scary-ass wolf head" is also a never-ending story reference. Specifically in that thats literally the entire meta narrative the book was built around that the movie left out. the "puking on bullies" thing is also only in the movie and not in the book. Hussie Knows his references. @pages-in-movies asked: Congrats on hitting the milestone of being introduced to the main pillars of Homestuck: Jungian shadow, Gnosticism, The Never-ending Story, and the quote "nothing new under the sun"

At some point, I'm going to need to host a NeverEnding Story movie night. That, or Con Air.

[323cutie]

makes me love you even more. | jyh

pairing ୨୧ yunho x reader

word count ୨୧ 800

genre ୨୧ fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings ୨୧ mentions of breakdowns/feelings of inadequacy/like everyone hates u, the like! very bpd coded reader <3

author's note ୨୧ hi guyz. had a rough night the other night and well ! i just think yunho would be very kind and understanding. hehe.

You wish being self-aware made your breakdowns easier.

Maybe breakdown is a strong word. It all came on so quickly, no build up, just open floodgates. One thing that probably doesn’t even mean what your cruel brain wants you to believe it does… and still. Still. You’ve spent the day in bed, scrolling on your phone in silence. Thinking and thinking and thinking…

Maybe no one really likes you. Maybe your friends just felt bad for you all those years ago, and you latched on and won’t let go. Maybe they see your messages and grimace at their phone, leave you on read because they don’t want to talk to you. Maybe they’re sick of constantly having to reassure you – 

A little voice in you says, “that’s not true.” Whatever hope in it is crushed by the weight of thoughts that aren’t your own.

Curling yourself into a ball in your sheets, you contemplate running away, starting a new life. Let your eyes water thinking about how it might be better for everyone you know, let a few tears slip before you can stop yourself. But you wipe your face as fast as you can even though you’re alone like it might help you feel more put together.

You hear the jingle of keys right outside your door followed by the lock clicking open. You know who it is, but even if you didn’t, you’re not sure you’d have the energy to do anything about it.

“Heyo,” Yunho’s voice echoes through your apartment, followed by a singsong drawl of your name. You don’t bother calling out to him – you’re sure he’s seen your car in its parking spot, and your bedroom door is open anyways. He’ll find you.

One second he’s in your doorway. You blink and he’s crawling onto your bed with you.

“Hey, sweetpea,” he murmurs once he’s close enough, hands finding your body under the duvet. His voice alone cools the red-hot dread in your veins to a low simmer. His fingers grab for your arms, your waist, your hands. They turn you around until you’re face to face, trail up and down your silhouette. Yunho’s eyes are full of concern and love, and you feel so stupid.

You hear him sigh when you push your face into his shoulder, feeling his arms come around you to hold you to him. You spend a while breathing him in – the mix of his soap, the freshness of what you can only imagine is the new cologne he was telling you about a few days ago. There’s something else in there, something particularly Yunho. Familiar, and warm, and comforting.

You don’t know how much time passes before you finally will yourself to distance yourself from his embrace, but when you do he still holds you close. He’s worried, you know. You would be too. If it were him, well… 

“Bad day?” is all he asks when you don’t say anything, and you breathe out a shaky sigh with a nod. His hands squeeze your waist like it pains him, too. 

“Really bad,” you say. Your voice is rough and wavering. You hope he doesn't notice the tremble in your lip. “It just feels like – like… no one really – cares, or –”

Your own gasp cuts you off and Yunho coos, murmuring words you can't really hear. He strokes the back of your head and presses his lips to the tip of your nose and lets you gather yourself. 

You finally get air back in your lungs, vision a little less blurry. “I won't make you say anything, you know that,” Yunho whispers. His fingers trace random shapes on your skin, wherever he can reach. “Take your time with it. I’ll be here.”

And the way he says it just about brings you back to life – an understanding. He knows how you work, how your brain conspires against you sometimes, that you know it too, but it's hard to bypass. You feel stupid for ever doubting it. Awful for ever thinking of him in that way, so cruel to you, when he's here picking up your pieces.

“Sorry,” you say. Yunho looks at you like you’re crazy and you can't help a little giggle, but it eases the crease between his brows. “For crying. And for thinking you hate me.”

He softens at your words, practically wraps himself around you. You hold him just as tight, fingers curling into his hair, splayed along his back. “Could never hate you, sweetpea,” he says, nose buried in the crook of your neck. His voice is muffled by your skin, but you hear him loud and clear.  “I think it’s impossible.”

You breathe him in as deeply as you can, commit all of this to memory to revisit on your worst days. Take note of the glimmer in his pretty eyes, hair tousled from your fingers and your pillow, curve of his lips when he tells you, “I love you.”

You believe him.

[megalony]

He Owns The Club

This is a new kind of Buddie x reader imagine I had an idea for based on a gif.

I hope you will all like this, please let me know what you think and if I should do any more ideas like this.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff

@jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Buddie Masterlist

Summary: Evan isn't sure what he's getting himself into when he lets Eddie take him to a club. A club that is much more than it first seems where the stakes are even better.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So uh, you never… you never said where we're going." Evan scratched the back of his neck as he followed after his friend.

He would follow Eddie anywhere. All Eddie had to do was smile and Evan felt instantly at ease and like he could be lead anywhere and still feel completely safe and secure. But he didn't like not knowing where they were going.

Being told to 'dress to impress' wasn't something Evan was used to and it wasn't the sort of dress code he was familiar with.

What did that mean? Who was he trying to impress? There were very different meanings if Evan was supposed to be impressing a lady or impressing some of Eddie's friends or their colleagues. A suit and tie would be to impress someone formal, someone with something to prove. A manager who could give them a promotion. Someone who could offer them something.

Impressing a girl meant wearing a tight set of trousers and a short sleeved shirt that was one or two sizes too small to show off all his attributes.

Evan had been so frazzled and flabbergasted at those instructions that he wasn't sure what to wear. It took him ten times longer than usual to finally settle on something.

A suit. Dark blue trousers that were starched and had been ironed to a crisp so that they could stand up all on their own. A matching blazer jacket that was just a little on the small side when it went over his shoulders. Enough so that it looked fetching, but if Evan tried to button it up, he would be in trouble. And a dark magenta dress shirt with the top two buttons undone so he could actually breathe.

"I told you, we're off for some fun." Eddie's reply was short but full of questions and Evan found himself huffing.

That wasn't the kind of answer he was searching for. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. He didn't like being cryptic, he liked clear instructions and information.

The way Eddie arched a dark brow made Evan shiver and when Eddie patted the back of his hand into Evan's chest, it caused his heart to stutter. He let out a short breath and found his blood fizzling in his veins when Eddie leaned over him.

He opened the door on Evan's left and motioned with his hand. Evan hadn't even realised the car had stopped. He slowly clambered out, catching a quick glance over his shoulder at Eddie and furrowed his brows when he realised Eddie didn't pay the fare. He climbed out after a few exchanged words with the driver who only grinned, somewhat mischeviously.

"A club?" Evan was surprised, he couldn't hide that from his voice.

The lights were bright. Flashing royal blue and blinding white lights flickered on and off in intervals, all lined up in an oval around a club doorway.

Evan could see through the old-style windows with square glass pannels. People were dancing, lights were blazing so brightly it was giving him a headache already. And if that wasn't enough of a giveaway to where they were, the music was pulsing through the air like a defibrilator on full blast. He could see bodies mashed together on the dance floor, forms huddled in quiet corners that weren't really quiet at all. People thinking they were being discrete when Evan could see exactly what they were doing; acts that would make him blush if he were any closer to them.

His foot lifted up, about to walk up the three steps that led to the doors guarded by two bouncers who were eyeing them curiously. No, not curiosity in their eyes, but familiarity. Eddie must have been here before.

But he didn't go up the steps, not when Eddie's fingers found his elbow with such a firm grip that Evan almost stumbled backwards. He twisted his head to the right, looking sharply at his friend who ticked his head to the side and started walking.

Were they not going to the club after all? Why had they pulled up right outside the club if this wasn't their destination for the evening?

"This way," Was the only clue Eddie gave. He tugged on Evan's elbow before his touch was gone and Evan felt suddenly lonely.

He obliged like a dutiful dog following its owner, but his eyes kept glancing behind him towards the club they were walking alongside.

Five steps away from the main doors, Eddie undid a gate in the metal fencing that blocked off a set of stairs leading down to what Evan would have presumed was the cellar beneath the club. All the houses on this block were old. The club was a set of four, maybe five old houses combined into one big unit.

Once upon a time they would have been flats and all the flats had lower levels beneath the pavement like this.

Why was Eddie going down here? How was he allowed to go down there? How did he even know what he was doing down there?

Eddie wordlessly headed down the stone steps, bypassing the large bay window that had thick black curtains pulled across so no one could see in or out. At the bottom of the stairs was a large metal door that clearly wasn't part of the original architecture.

Three sharp knocks on the door, a single pause, and then one long knock on the door seemed to be the secret access code. Evan watched Eddie's knuckles, that were unusually bruised and cracked tonight, tap on the metal with a demanding urgency that needed to be addressed.

Not a moment later, the door opened and a catfish grin spread across Eddie's lips. He nodded silently to the man who opened the door and waved for Evan to follow, as if he would go anywhere else right now. Evan was too far in to turn around now and his curiosity was peaked, he needed answers and he wasn't leaving without them.

The hallway was narrow and called for single file and Evan realised once the door was closed that he couldn't hear any music from the club up above them. Were the walls and floors soundproof down here and if so, what for?

Eddie led the way down the corridor and Evan peered over his shoulder to see the young man following behind him with his hands clasped together behind his back. Very formal. Very strange.

A left turn into a larger hallway. A right turn into a vast but overheated kitchen that sparkled like something out of a magazine with how shiny the counters were and how bright the lightbulbs seemed to be.

And through the kitchen they went, into what seemed to be three or four rooms all busted through into one large room, the size of Evan's loft, doubled. A casino, it had to be. There were poker tables set up around the room, large circular tables with leather trims and velvet, lime green bases that reminded Evan of astroturf.

A person in a tux at each table who had to be the dealers. Packets of unopened playing cards resting at their sides to make for clean games and no chance of cheating.

If there had been cigarettes in people's hands and smoke filling the air, Evan would have thought he had gone back in time to the twenties when prohibition was around and underground clubs were all the range if you knew who to ask. Clearly, Eddie was the person to ask when it came to the night life scene.

How did he know about this place?

"Ah, so our night of fun is gambling?" Evan's voice came out lower than he first intended and he leaned forward with his hands behind his back and his chin hovering over Eddie's shoulder. He wasn't sure where the nerve came from to stand this close to the one person at the station who could get his blood boiling without uttering a single word. But it was too late to move now, and Evan didn't want to move anywhere when Eddie turned to look at him like that.

Eddie's head twisted to the left and a shark tooth grin formed on his lips, flashing his pearly whites that sank down into his lower lip as something flashed across his eyes. The look was brief, but it made Evan's stomach flip, and when he watched Eddie rake his fingers over his chin like he was debating something, Evan could have melted on the spot.

"You said those bets at work were like child's play… so I thought I'd give you a challenge."

A subtle blush started to creep up from Evan's collar, along his rather tense neck and it bloomed over his previously pale cheeks, turning them fuchsia with swirls of crimson.

He had said that. He found it strange intoxicating when Eddie started boasting about his newfound math skills. And he liked how smug Eddie would get whenever Evan got a question right and started to place bets with the other members of their team.

"How'd you know about this place?"

A knowing smile fluttered over Eddie's lips and his index finger gently tapped the side of his nose.

So he was going to be like that, was he?

Evan rolled his eyes before he cast them around the room. There was no need to panic about what he was wearing. He had felt overdressed from the moment he put the outfit together, but now, stood here in a club with people in dinner jackets and women in dresses that reminded Evan of cocktail dresses in twenties movies, he felt like he fitted in rather well.

And when his eyes raked over Eddie for the hundredth time that night, he took a deep breath to calm his feverish senses.

Eddie didn't know how good he looked. Tight fitting blue trousers just a few shades lighter than Evan's. A high-neck jumper that sat an inch or two below his jaw and looked like a thick collar- or a thick belt- wrapped around his neck. The navy blue jumper suited Eddie, all dark colours seemed to make him stand out rather than blend him into the background. And the royal blue blazer jacket he wore which again, was a few shades lighter than Evan's own clothing, was inviting to say the least.

The blazer clung to Eddie. It made his shoulders look broader. It puffed his chest out and made his muscles look confined and restrained like they were desperate to break free from his clothing.

And when his hand rubbed along the light coating of stubble on his chin, Evan could have melted into a puddle on the stone floor.

But he didn't. He held himself together with laboured breaths to regulate his system and followed Eddie who again took the lead. He thought Eddie would make pleasantries with the people here, after all, everyone kept looking his way which gave the impression that he was a regular here.

A round of adrenaline sparked through Evan's system when Eddie led them towards the table in the centre of the room.

They weren't going to sit on the outskirts. They were going for the bullseye, dead centre, where the most laughing and the most chips were on the table. Eddie was the embodiment of 'go big or go home' tonight, and Evan didn't know what to do with that information.

There weren't as many people at this table, but it seemed to be the the fullest one in the room somehow. More boldened, more exclusive, if that were possible. Or perhaps it was just Evan's perception of the table and the atmosphere in the room.

He took his seat and watched Eddie sit down next to him with such an air of confidence that showed he had been here more times than one.

The way Eddie sat in his chair had all eyes on him. He slouched down, but he didn't look uninterested or like a teenager unhappy to be here. If anything, slouching like that made him more confident. His left leg stretched out beneath the table, his right leg crossed over and showed off his tensing thighs and how his trousers were straining to contain his thighs and his knees without breaking.

His left hand rested on the leather edge of the table and his short nails began to tap against the dull brown that was worn and faded with age. While his right elbow propped up on his thigh and his hand curled into a fist beneath his chin, keeping his head up and his eyes on the table.

He didn't have to say anything for chips to be placed in front of him and Evan, and it made him smile tepidly. He didn't want to smile too bright or attract too much attention tonight. Not yet, anyway.

Eddie started to relish in the way he could get Evan to look shocked, bewildered and amazed, all at once and all for different reasons.

When Jess, one of the waitresses, timidly approached the table and set down a martini in front of him and Evan, Eddie's smile turned sweeter. He winked at her before uttering a quiet "Thank you," before she left.

He relished in the fact that Evan was shocked they hadn't given a drinks order and yet the waitress seemed to know exactly what Eddie would like. Of course she did. Eddie wouldn't be very happy if none of the staff knew his preferred drink. And they could all see that Evan was here with him, and therefore would most likely want the same drink too.

And he relished the way Evan's brows lifted and his tongue darted out across his lips, catching the remnants of sugar from the rim of the glass. He liked the martini. Eddie hadn't often seen Evan drink something other than beer or shots, but he guessed he had a sweet tooth. He had been right.

The dealer, Marcus, dragged his thumb across the edge of the deck in his hands, creating a vibration that was like music to Eddie's ears. He watched intently as Marcus started dealing out the cards to the four other people at the table before he stopped and looked over at Eddie.

"In or out?" His expression was calm but his smile was careful. All the workers here were careful when it came to Eddie.

Eddie kept his hand beneath his chin but when he raised the fingers on his left hand from the edge of the table, Marcus nodded. Eddie didn't want to play yet. He wanted to observe. He wanted to see if Evan was going to be as good at poker as he was at math. He wanted to see if Evan's skills could be put to good use, if he could fit in here. Eddie wanted Evan's face to be a regular at the club.

This was Evan's first game and he could feel the nerves pulsing through him. He took a large gulp of the martini, almost draining the glass before he looked back down at his cards. He knew how to play, and he knew how to count the cards and add up the numbers. He knew how to guess what everyone else's cards were by watching which sets they dropped when they exchanged their cards. He knew if they dropped the high numbers, they were going for a lower set and if they exchanged hearts, then they clearly had a set of diamonds, spades or clubs.

But the nerves still hit Evan, because of who was sat beside him.

He didn't want to lose and make Eddie think bringing him here was a mistake. He didn't like the thought of losing the first game and then losing his bottle and his nerve and going on a bad streak.

More importantly, he didn't want to disappoint Eddie, in any way.

"Your bet."

Evan nodded, rolling his lips together as he looked down at his set. Aces and a row of Spades starting from the King and going down to ten. He had a good hand. But he didn't have a flush or a full run. Was it worth upping the bet if he could fold and lose the least amount of money? Was he right in guessing the elder gentleman across the table was bluffing with a high bet?

A shiver rushed down Evan's spine and his body jolted when he felt a pointed chin pressing down on his shoulder.

He felt Eddie's hot breath on his neck and his strong fingers squeezing his thigh and it made his breathing stutter and come to an abrupt stop. What was Eddie doing? Was he trying to wind him up? Was he trying to put him off and make him lose?

Didn't he know how this worked? They didn't play in teams when they played poker.

Why weren't the others at the table saying anything?

"Go high." The words tickled the shell of Evan's ear, but he couldn't make any sense of them or work out what was happening. Not until Eddie's right hand grabbed a stack of green chips and pushed them into the middle of the table, placing the bet for him.

Evan rolled his lips together and tried to focus on regulating his breaths, in through his nose, hold for three seconds, then out through his mouth. It wouldn't do him any good to get hot and flustered when the night had only just started.

He worked on controlling his expression, he needed to keep a poker face and he guessed he did a good job because when he laid his cards out, he could see the look of surprised faces staring back at him.

His fingers began to tremble when the chips were pushed towards him. His winnings. Could they even be classed as Evan's winnings when he hadn't bought those chips? Had Eddie bought them beforehand when he arranged for them to come here? Because clearly people were expecting them. Was Eddie a high stakes player here? How did he have so much respect from everyone?

Evan watched the way the man opposite him tossed his cards down. Two meager pairs, nothing to win on unless he pulled a good bluff and got everyone else to fold.

It looked like he was going to say something by the way the anger fuelled his eyes and he glared deeply at Evan. But one look at Eddie curbed his anger immediately.

With a raised brow, Eddie pressed his fist to the base of his chin just beneath his lower lip. While his fingers on his left hand pressed down into the rim of the table and his index finger slowly started to tap along with each passing second on the clock. A warning.

He wasn't having anyone throwing a fit tonight, especially not at Evan. This wasn't beginners luck, this was Evan doing what he did best and Eddie was going to make sure no one said anything to him for it.

This was Eddie's club, after all.

***

Evan cast his eyes around the club for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He kept taking in new details and familiar faces he couldn't quite place. He noticed the cealing was slightly domed in places, as if it were a chapel from a country castle or an ancient wine celler or the catacombs. He wondered how many layers of stone there were up there to keep such noise and atmosphere from the upper lounge club from seeping down here.

All Evan could hear was the slow music from the speakers in each corner of the room. Sometimes a Spanish song came on and Evan would catch Eddie nodding his head along, clearly knowing the tunes. The odd jazz one came on every once in a while and really made the atmosphere feel like what Evan guessed the twenties had been like.

He looked ahead at the tables while he slouched his right arm on the bar counter, another cocktail in his left hand. He didn't want to drink too many and go off his game, especially when he seemed to be on a winning streak so far.

But when his eyes roamed over the tables, his blue orbs locked onto a familiar face blended into the crowd.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, Evan noted the way Eddie had his back to him. He was on the phone to somebody. Evan didn't want to interrupt, and he didn't need to be babysat, he knew what he was doing by now and he could go and have some fun while he waited.

Drink in hand, Evan pushed off the bar and weaved through the tables until he sat at the one at the far left. Up to now he had only played on the middle table which seemed to be the one with the highest stakes and the more regular visitors.

"Fancy seeing you here."

(Y/n) lifted her head and tried to stop herself from tensing up when she felt a hand on the back of her chair and a body leaning over her.

A soft smile curved on her lips when she looked up behind her and realised it was only Evan. She let herself relax and her eyes followed him as he moved to sit down in the spare seat next to her. There were only two other people at this table besides (Y/n).

He hadn't seen her in a while. She worked at dispatch with Maddie and he knew she often babysat Chris for Eddie on occasion when he needed her to. Evan got along well with her. That smile could get her anything she wanted. It was like Eddie's smile, it made Evan weak at the knees.

"Are you winning?" She asked as if she already knew the answer and it made Evan look at her with a quizzical smile while he reached into his pocket and fished out a handful of chips. The rest were sitting on the middle table, waiting for him to either bargain with them or cash them in.

"What about you?"

"I'm doing alright," (Y/n) let herself sink into her chair while her fingertips tapped against the chips in front of her. She was doing okay considering she hadn't been here long, and she wasn't used to playing without Eddie's assistance. "Has Eddie been helping you, or are you winning on your own?"

Her words weren't snappy or rude and the way she smiled and tangled her fingers in her hair behind her neck had Evan's stomach fluttering with adrenaline while his heart lifted.

"He makes the bets, I win the cash." He dragged a hand through his short curls, ruffling them on his head while his shoulders hunched forward and he twisted to look at her properly. "I didn't have Eddie pegged as a gambling kinda guy, you know. But everyone here keeps watching him, does he win a lot? I haven't seen him play yet."

A confused look crossed (Y/n)'s face and the small curve of her lips had Evan straightening up in his seat.

What had he said? Had he done something wrong? Was he not supposed to ask things like that?

"You- you know this is his place, right? Eddie owns the club." (Y/n) sank her teeth into her lower lip and leaned both elbows forward onto the table, leaning closer into Evan's side.

Had he really not known? How did he come down here and not know that Eddie was the one in charge?

Granted, it wasn't something any of his team at the station knew, it wasn't something Eddie liked to flash around. He didn't tell people he met on the street that he was the owner of a club and had a gambling ring going on. Nothing illegal, at least as far as anyone else knew. But it was strange that Eddie hadn't told Evan this was his place. He told (Y/n) the first time he brought her here, and it was obvious to the naked eye.

The way the staff all knew his favourite drinks and never questioned him when he joined or left a game. They knew how many chips to place in front of him and didn't ask for his cash first. They knew he could roam around and go anywhere he liked. He had the discretion to kick people out if he didn't like their attitude or if he thought they were cheating or getting too big for their boots.

Everyone was nervous around Eddie because nobody wanted to be the one to get on his bad side. It wasn't pleasant to be on the other side of Eddie and see the darkness seeping through.

"I… that makes sense." Evan's voice lost a little power and his words turned to a whisper while his jaw hung down.

He did not know that.

But it made sense. It was why Eddie knew exactly where to go and how to get in and no one questioned him or asked why he was here. No one even came over to talk to him, everyone was too meager to even try. It explained why he didn't have to ask or pay for drinks and why he was given his playing chips without giving any cash first. It was why everyone kept looking at him and therefore looking at Evan, wondering who he was and why he was here with the boss.

It was why no one was questioning or arguing with Evan when he won, and why no one had kicked him out yet since he had won all night without losing a game.

Eddie was the boss.

With a deep breath, Evan ran his tongue across his lower lip as he leaned in closer so he could lower his voice but still be heard by (Y/n).

"Wanna make this game interesting? Fancy playing for something other than these?" He flicked a chip across the table, briefly glancing at the dealer who subtly placed the chip on the rack before continuing to shuffle a new deck.

"What did you have in mind?" (Y/n) couldn't help the way her lips quirked up at one side and she dipped her head down, looking at Evan through her lashes. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but she was intrigued.

He looked a little drunk but mostly in control and Evan was always carefree whenever (Y/n) bumped into him. Seeing him sat there in a suit with a cheesy grin and those sweet, drunken blue eyes made (Y/n)'s heart swim almost as much as when she saw Eddie sat at the centre table like a King among thieves.

"How about a date?"

"Sounds good to me."

Another jolt ran down (Y/n)'s spine and she tilted her head back over the chair when a set of hands clamped down on her shoulders. She could feel Eddie's fingers squeezing into her skin and she felt his abdomen pressing into her shoulders, keeping her upright yet caged down in her seat at the same time.

His voice sounded gritty and deep and his smile flashed his teeth and gave off an air of confidence that no one else in the room seemed to possess but him.

His words made (Y/n)'s stomach jump and had Evan's lips parting, unsure what to say to respond to that.

His eyes watched intently as Eddie leaned over, mumbling an unusually soft "Ola amor," against (Y/n)'s temple that he pecked.

Oh dear. Had Evan overstepped the mark?

He had always been intrigued by Eddie. Always wanting to be closer, to be around him, to be within his company and to admire him and touch him if possible. But Evan never acted on it. How could he? He didn't know what kind of response he could receive.

It always seemed safer to act on a feeling towards a woman than risk the reaction he would get if he hit on a guy. And (Y/n) was someone Evan found himself attracted to. He saw her when he dropped Maddie off at dispatch on occasion. He saw her at Eddie's place when she was watching Chris. He found himself thinking about her smile almost as much as he thought about Eddie's wolfish grin.

But if she was Eddie's girl then Evan couldn't hit on either of them and he would have to control how he acted around them. He was learning fast tonight that Eddie was in control here and Evan still didn't know the rules of this game. He didn't want to end up on the wrong side and make any enemies tonight.

(Y/n) feathered her fingers over Eddie's wrist and watched him sit down in the spare seat to her left. He nudged the chair as close as it could get to (Y/n)'s side and draped his arm over the back of her chair so he could nudge his nose against her neck and breathe in her scent.

She could feel his lips curving into a grin against her skin and his tongue dragged over her neck.

But once Eddie heard someone begin to tap their fingers against the table like they were becoming impatient, his smile faded and his head snapped to the left to look around the table. Two regulars.

"Leave." Eddie's voice was authoritive, his brow was set and his lips weren't curved into a smile, showing he wasn't playing around. Both men left the table without complaint. They had riled up the boss and sitting here was only going to make things worse. If they got told to disappear to a different table, then that was what they did unless they wanted to be kicked out of the club.

When they vacated their seats and left it so it was only the three of them and the dealer at the table, Eddie relaxed. He pressed his chest up against (Y/n)'s arm and leaned around her a little so he could get a good view of Evan, his special guest tonight.

"So, Buck, you wanna up the stakes?"

"I- I just thought, since I got all those chips… maybe we could change the stakes?" He wasn't sure why he was explaining himself and he knew the strength had gone out of his voice. He didn't want Eddie to get the wrong idea of him and he didn't want to impose or make (Y/n) feel uncomfortable if she was Eddie's girl and Evan had just hit on her.

But the way Eddie smiled made Evan's stomach rise up to his chest and had his heart doing summersaults.

"Alright." Eddie's voice was firm and with a nod of his head, he glanced at the dealer and clicked his fingers. "We can make this interesting. If you win, you get a date."

Despite the lack of confirmation in those words, there was no way for Evan to mistake the offer being held out to him.

It would be a date with the both of them. (Y/n) and Eddie.

That wasn't something Evan had ever done before, but the thought wasn't sending his mind reeling or making him back away. It was rather the opposite.

He couldn't help but lean in closer, scraping his elbows along the table as he inched closer until his arm was touching (Y/n)'s and his face was a mere few inches away from Eddie's. A date with them both. With the two people who had caught Evan's attention from the moment he met them. That would be Evan's dream, and by the look on Eddie's face and the way (Y/n) was biting her lip, they both liked that idea too.

"And- and what if you win?" Would the stakes stay the same? Would Evan still get a date if he lost? Or did Eddie have something different in mind for his own winnings?

(Y/n) let herself sink into Eddie's chest and her lips pressed against his temple in a gentle touch.

She didn't think Eddie had been serious when he said he would bring Evan along to the club tonight. And she was even more surprised that Evan seemed to eager to get involved with both of them. She hadn't thought that would of been his style or his thing, but he was seemingly open to the idea and that was sending excitement through (Y/n)'s core.

She tried to stop her hands from shaking and sat up straighter in her seat when Anton, the dealer, started sliding cards across the table to each of them. If they were going to play this game then they couldn't be leaning into one another in case they caught sight of their cards. Eddie liked to play fair and this was high stakes.

She watched her partner click his back into place and push his sleeves up to expose his wrists before he reached out for his cards. His expression was plain and stoic but one brow raised when he looked across at Evan.

He dragged his hand across his stubbled face, seemingly contemplating what he wanted if he won this game. This wasn't about money or pawns after all, he couldn't offer the usual winnings he would for a better game. He had to up the ammunition tonight.

"If I win…"

Eddie scratched his nails down his neck and tilted his head back, but his eyes stayed completely locked with Evan. Noticing the way his tongue darted across his lips in anticipation and he leaned just that little bit closer to the table. Not wanting to miss a single word.

"You're both coming home with me tonight." He didn't miss the way Evan's fingers scrunched into the playing cards he was holding. He could see the new cards, fresh out of the pack, become crumpled and creased in Evan's crushing grip while his palms began to sweat.

His jaw hung open and he stared at them both, waiting to see who would crack first, expecting one of them to burst out laughing and say they were only joking. But as Evan watched them and noticed Eddie be the first one to pick up a card from the dealer, he realised the game had started. And they were both deadly serious.

They didn't seem to ask what would happen if (Y/n) won the game, but Evan suspected she would be the deciding vote. She would decide whether they went home or went on a date. And something told Evan that (Y/n) wasn't going to win tonight.

She didn't often play unless Eddie was here playing with her and giving her tips. Whenever she played, Eddie practically sat on her lap and helped her along the way and no one dared to question him. Eddie hardly played whenever (Y/n) was here and it looked like it was going to be the same with Evan because until now, Eddie hadn't joined in a single game yet.

But these were the kind of stakes he loved to play for. Money was invaluable and insufficient. It was a boring child's toy when Eddie owned this place. He liked to play for something more powerful, more worth his time. And his expression showed he was fully intent on winning tonight.

"Okay." Evan nodded and waited for (Y/n) to take a card before he looked through the hand he had been dealt and switched a card out.

He was conflicted. He didn't want to lose, he had gone all night winning and losing right now was going to ruin his streak. That didn't sit well with Evan. But on the other hand, the stakes were better if he forfeited this game. If he lost, he was going to be in for what could be the best night of his life.

How could he pass that up?

His free hand began to tap against the table, drumming out a beat in time with the music in the background that was only just fizzling through his ears that were full of static. When he glanced to his left and looked down at (Y/n), Evan ticked his head to one side and his nose crinkled while his eyes narrowed. He wasn't sure why she was looking at him like that but when she leaned in closer, Evan tilted his head towards her so she could whisper in his ear.

"I haven't known Eddie to lose a game."

All the times she had seen Eddie play, she had yet to see him lose. And it wasn't just because he was the boss. People liked to try and beat Eddie because they knew he wouldn't be mad if they did. He liked a challenge and there was no downside to beating him, he wouldn't kick them out of the club or throw fists. He had the night time fights to let out his anger, this was to get creative and have some fun.

But when (Y/n) had been here, she hadn't seen her partner lose a game. He called her his good luck charm because he lost on a few occasions before (Y/n) started coming to the club, but with her here, he was on a winning streak.

Evan dragged his fingers across his freshly shaved jaw, unable to stop a chuckle from passing his lips as he nodded.

"Yeah? Somehow I don't think he's gonna lose tonight either."