#whose gonna make my friday feel better

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Sparks Fly

Summary; Eddie makes a mean remark during your usual banter and you decide to distance yourself from him. You would rather turn your attention to someone who wants you around.

Like Jackson... Eddie isn't so happy about that though.

Warnings; Slightly mean! Eddie, angst, fluffy fluff.

Likes or reblogs are much appreciated ❤️

I don't give anyone permission to copy my work 😘

❤️

It started like any normal day except for the fact that Eddie was grumpier than usual.

So when he was a little more biting than usual you took it in your stride.

Until Dustin pitched in with a comment.

He looks at the both of you amused before saying what wss on his mind.

"Geez just date already" Eddie glares at him slamming his locker shut.

"Please, as if I would date her. She'd drive me mad within a week with her shit" he looks at you with irritation.

"Are you hanging around for a reason or are you gonna cry?"

That look on his face made his feelings clear. It stung, you felt crushed and looked away not wanting to cry in front of the asshole.

You hold your head up high, walk away from him and try very hard not to concentrate on the way your stomach sank and your heart was racing.

Screw Eddie. You should have never thought he liked you like that, his teasing was because he hated you and that was that.

Fine. Now you would bury your feelings for him and move on.

The next day you ignored Eddie, you didn't approach him, skipped on their usual past time of bickering and concentrated on your friends and studies.

And on Jackson Murray.

On Friday Hawkins Tigers were playing and she and the rest of the cheerleaders performed before the big game.

Jackson being a huge flirt sat paying you rapt attention and winked when you looked his way.

Hellfire Club was in attendance supporting Lucas, it surprised you that Eddie was here but you took it in your stride. Of course he would support one of his sheeples, as he liked to call the youngest Hellfire members.

No, don't think about him you chastised yourself and instead blew a kiss over to Jackson who was getting ready for the game and promptly ignored Eddie whose eyes narrowed, his face like thunder.

✨

It's not like you expected Eddie to corner you after the game. His eyes flashed, body tight with tension.

"What the hell do you want Munson?" you were so not in the mood for his drama.

"Surprised Jsckson isn't sniffing around you like the pathetic douchebag that he is" you roll your eyes at the venom in his voice and spot Jackson heading to the showers.

You wave at him and Eddie crosses his arms looking like a pouty puppy.

"Since when do you like preppy assholes like Jackson" you huff and apply some of your favourite lipstick using your compact.

"Since when do you care what my type is Munson?" he ignores that question and glares sullenly over your shoulder.

"You've been ignoring me for days" he points out and you roll your eyes.

"Now you can get the peace you crave and get rid of my annoying ass," you tell him and he swallows.

"Princess... Jackson shows up at that point and the tension kicks up a notch.

"Is that freak bothering you?" Jackson asks while eyeing Eddie who ignores him.

"It's fine" you can handle Eddie you dont need Jackson going all alpha male.

"You heard her. Get lost dude" Jackson steps forward but seems to think better of it, nods and turns to you.

"Uh, you do know Jason thinks Hellfire is a cult right? Sacrifices virgins and that shit?" Eddie rolls his eyes and so does she.

"Jason is a dipshit, it's just a game" Jackson nods and then leaves but not before giving Eddie a pointed stare.

"Shit. I'm shaking in my boots here" he mocks and you round on him.

"What do you want Munson besides being a dick?" he follows you as you walk away and knows he won't shut up until he's said what he's said.

"Jackson is a boring ass douche. That's who you want to spend time with princess?" you shake your head growing annoyed.

"I repeat what do you want Munson? I don't care what you think. You made your feelings about me perfectly clear so get lost yeah?" he frowns.

"I didn't mean it alright, was having a shit day and I snapped" you scoff.

"Like that makes it okay? You were mean. If you don't want me hanging around then I won't" he groans

"I'm sorry okay, I didn't mean it and I'm fucking sorry" this makes you pause because he rarely apologized to you, he looks frustrated but underneath all that is guilt and anxiety.

"For the record, you deserve better than that prick Jackson, you drive me crazy you know. Swanning around and needling at me one minute, which makes me mad, then the next minute I want to... he trails off.

"You want to do what?" you ask and he gazes at you his gaze makes your stomach flutter with those damn butterflies.

He licks his lips and there's a moment of indecision before he backs you up against the wall and kisses you.

You kiss him back fiercely, his hand tangles in your hair, and the other on your waist. It's amazing and you could kiss him forever.

How could someone who annoyed you so much make you feel like this? So much passion.

He moans and you deepen the kiss further until he pulls away still gazing at you.

"I've been wanting to do that" he murmurs and you feel that electric pull drawing you closer to him. Those sparks.

He strokes your cheek. You can hear the rest of the cheer squad call to you and Eddie's lips brush over hers once more.

You stay like that, just you and him, sparks flying and something new blossoming between you two.

❤️

[sky-is-the-limit]

It's pretty simple, really. Don't get romantically involved with a fellow soldier. The task force is a unit, a second family. Any other relationship developing could create unnecessary, dangerous complications and you know damn well you cannot afford that. You worked hard to fit in, you worked hard to prove that you, a woman, can do as much as the next man in line for the job. Hell, in your case, even better.

"Weakness."

CW: F!reader x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick +18/NSFW/F!Masturbation

P.s I'm not a writer!

Rules, rules, rules.

Your Captain's words ring in your head every time one of these unwanted thoughts creep into your mind. "One of the best sniper shooters I've ever got to work with." You're proud of your accomplishments, of your resilience and brain when it comes to work, always giving your best self to get the task done, to make sure you have your team's back, to never let anyone down and above all, yourself.

No one can be perfect though, right? Everyone has an Achilles' heel, a weakness strong enough to take the bravest man down, to make someone forget all the important attributes that make an obedient soldier and that's exactly what he was to you. A weakness. The name that answers to all your desires, a thought engraved permantently in your brain, never disappearing no matter how hard you've tried. And you have.

Countless nights when you had given in the advances of a drunken stranger, hoping that it will be enough to forget him, to get lost in the moment with someone whose name or face don't even matter. The only reason you let another man kiss you, taste you, touch body.. is so you can feel something real. Something that isn't your imagination where he's the only one always present.

The worst part of this? It's not just you indulging into this madness. Perhaps if it was one-sided, it'd be easier for you to bury it in the depths of your mind. Only allowing yourself to feel it late at night when you're alone in your bed, the only witness to your secret being your fingertips and his name leaving your mouth softly, like a desperate prayer for salvation. It's not just you though.

/ / /

"That blondie over there is practically undressing you with her eyes, Garrick."

There it is. That uncomfortable feeling in your stomach that makes you want to disappear from the surface of the earth. It happens every damn Friday when you and the boys hang out at the nearest pub. Always the same scenario, always a different girl, never you.

You should be used to it by now, and yet the way Soap nudges him to go over and leave with someone else tonight still stings. You want to punch that smirk off of Johnny's face but it's not his fault. You wish for that woman to fall on her ass, embarass herself but it's not her fault. You crave for him to finally snap, forget about the rules and drag you back to his car so he can fuck you with all that desperation that has been building up inside both of you. He won't though and it's not his fault.

"Nah, not my type mate." Any other woman would feel relieved to hear this. Hear the man she wants so badly turn down the chance to leave with a pretty girl for the night but not you. Maybe it'd be easier if you got to see him flirting with a stranger, his hand finding it's way to her waist, flirty whispers foreseeing a promising night between them.. Maybe something would crack, maybe jealousy would work it's trick and get you to stop thinking about him. Not Kyle though.

He spits out that sentence like it's no big deal, his piercing brown eyes staring into yours, never breaking eye contact as the words leave his mouth. If Soap wasn't so distracted, mumbling with frustrated jealousy that Gaz always gets the attention of the prettiest girls, he'd be able to see why he always turns them down.

He knows damn well what he's doing. Like there's an unspoken bet between the two of you, of who's gonna break first and he has to win it. The look in his eyes, confirming your suspicions that he also thinks of you when he's alone, the way his lips part slightly every time you stand up to go get another drink, the sight of your barely covered thighs right in front of him.

He wants you and that's the worst part. Just like every night, this one ends the same. With you two parting ways in the cold corridor, your only company his presence in your thoughts. At least his room being next to yours could mean that you fall asleep facing each other and that's adds some sense of comfort to your loneliness.

/ / /

Another sleepless night finds you alone in your sheets, the moonlight being the only thing illuminating your room as the soft sound of the rain pours down outside, reminding you that Autumn is finally here. It has become your habit, a lonely, desperate routine where you just lay there, thinking of him. Quite frankly, you don't even care that his room is right next to yours, that if the walls are thin enough maybe he can hear you touching yourself to the thought of him.

It's a deluded way to cope with all the desire filling up your body, feeling your core pulse and twitch as your fingertips find their way down to your clit and you wonder. How would his touch feel, how would he do it..

"Fuck, Gaz" a soft whine escapes your lips, your movements picking up the pace, making your hips back up and down against the bed, craving friction, craving him.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick is a passionate man. Whether it's a mission, a workout, hanging out with his friends.. He always lives in the moment, full of energy and a tremendous thirst for adrenaline. Always so eager for action. There's no doubt in your mind that that's exactly how he'd do you.

"I need you, fuck-" You admit to yourself breathlessly, sucking on your own finger before slowly bringing it down to wet your nipple, sending a shiver down your spine as you drag your fingertips through your own slick arousal.

You're a mess. Suddenly the cool temperature of the room turns into unbearable heat, sweat dripping down from your forehead, hair messy against your pillow as you buck up your hips against your palm, biting down on your bottom lip in an unsuccessful attempt to be quiet but as you get closer to your climax, you can't control it.

"Gaz-" Your mind travels back to earlier in the afternoon when you walked in on him working out at the gym, a pair of black shorts hanging low from his hips with a matching bandana on his forehead to keep the sweat from dripping down on his face. He caught you watching, your eyes were glued on his defined arms, occasionally wondering off to his chest then down to his abdomen. How can you not when he looks like that?

"Alright there, Y/L/N?" God, that smile will be the death of you, the sight of his fangs driving you insane that you can't help but wonder what they'd feel like sucking down on your neck. It'd be funny to think that you could ever scarcely deal with the attraction you feel towards him.

Suddenly it's hard to breathe, your thighs start to tremble whilst your fingers stroke your clit faster, you can feel it coming. God, his hands, his fingers.. The thought gets you to bring one finger back to your mouth, wetting it with the tip of your tongue. Would he do that? Stuff his fingers in your mouth while he's buried deep inside of you? A soft moan fell from your lips at the thought of it, pinching your nipple as your eyelids flutter to the sensation.

You're so lost in pleasure that you can barely hear the first knock on the door, thinking that it's your imagination playing tricks on you. The second one is louder making your hand jolt away from your thighs, a swell of embarrassment rising inside you.

"Shit." You mumble quietly before throwing on the oversized t-shirt that you normally sleep in before checking the clock on the wall. It's way too late for social calls unless it's an emergency. Another knock on the door snaps you out of it and without making sure that you're presentable, you open it.

"Gaz?" He doesn't look distressed, quite the opposite with his arms crossed over his chest, head titled to the side as he takes in the sight in front of him with the same smirk that makes your knees want to give in every time. So, no emergency then.

"It's late, what are you doing here?" You try your best to appear as if you were asleep, that would justify the-

"God, you're a mess Y/N." He may have his usual playful look on his face but his tone suggest something different. He's not teasing you for your state, not this time. It's like he's trying to catch his breath, eyes travelling down to your bare thighs and back to meet yours before he takes a step forward, leading to you taking one back.

"You're not as quiet as you think you are." Oh.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You mumble quietly, trying to avoid his gaze. Though your alone time was cut short before you could finish what you've started, the anticipation and thrill fill your body once again, like you never stopped touching yourself. This is what he does to you.

"Thing is, Y/N.." Kyle takes another step towards you, closing the door behind him without breaking eye contact like his life dependent on it.

"When you start a game.." His hand reaches out to caress your wrist softly before taking it into his hand, lips parted as his suggestive voice spreading a warm heat on your cheeks.

"Be brave enough to finish it."

[le-trash-prince]

WAIT Y’ALL SAMMON POSTED A CAT GRAPHIC WITH SCHRÖDINGER’S EQUATION???

WAS I ON THE MARK WITH MY DOME = SCHRÖDINGER’S CAT THEORY???? Quick someone who understands quantum mechanics talk about a particle existing in multiple states simultaneously until wave function collapse occurs

bc I’ve been thinking about this since Friday night—to me we aren’t looking at multiple timelines, we’re looking at a single timeline where Dome exists in multiple states: alive and dead. (Aside from the ending scene of ep 4, my primary support for this is the fact that Korn shows up at Tonkla’s with the neck wound he received from Tyme)

I think potentially anyone whose life Great saved could be in the same condition as Dome—except that Manee’s son was already dead. There was no one left to mourn her and hold her in that potential state of being dead, the way that Tonkla does for Dome. Everyone who sees her only knows her as being alive, and so her state is fixed. (Am I making sense? I feel like this sounds super abstract but I promise this makes sense in my head)

But that’s not the case for Nam, since Tyme would mourn her, but—and I’m gonna throw in more symbolic quantum mechanics here—I think Tyme could be in a state of quantum entanglement with Great. They are two parts of a whole that, even when separated by physical distance great enough that communication is impossible, share the same state—such as their death. So because they’re entangled, Tyme’s perception of the world is influenced by Great’s perception of the world, therefore he observes Nam as being alive.

Some of this may be wildly off the mark, but I do think Dome is both alive and dead in the same timeline. And also I do think Great and Tyme’s fates are intertwined.

(If they do represent parts of a whole, I would love to hear thoughts from someone who has a better understanding than me about yin and yang bc that’s what their colors feel like to me.)

[spookmemepls]

☠ ― 𝑊ℎ𝑜 𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑅𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑖𝑡? 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠. (𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑡 𝟷𝟿𝟾𝟾 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒, "𝑊ℎ𝑜 𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑅𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑖𝑡?".)

"Don't worry! Whatever you say!"

"Hey! Be careful with that gun!"

"This ain't no cartoon, y'know."

"I'll be in my trailer, taking a NAP!"

"Scotch on the rocks. And I mean ice."

"I can take it, don't worry about me!"

"Wait 'til he gets on his feet, THEN hit him with a boulder."

"How much do you know about show business, ___?"

"Look, I don't have time for this."

"What the hell happened in here...?!"

"The job's gonna cost you a hundred bucks."

"This is NO way to make a living..."

"Is that a rabbit in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"___! Is that you?!"

"Nice booby trap."

"I've worked with a lot of wise-quackers, but you are despicable."

"Kinda jumpy, aren't you, ___?"

"Get this straight, meatball. I don't work for toons."

"I think... I'm gonna faint..."

"That's it! That's the connection!"

"Well I don't work for peanuts."

"Another stupid news reel... aww, I HATE the news."

"You've been hanging around rabbits too long."

"I don't know who's toonier. You or ___."

"I'm not bad. I'm just drawn that way."

"OW! My biscuits are burnin'! Fire in the hatch!"

"Please, ___, can't you tell how much I need you?"

"I hope you're proud of yourself! And those pictures you took!"

"No toon can resist the old "shave and a haircut" bit."

"Hey, ___, don't you have a car?"

"Thanks for the cigarettes."

"Don't let me catch your peepin' face here again, got it?!"

"Nice monkey suit."

"Wiseass."

"Get outta here, get me some money, too."

"The whole thing stinks like yesterday's diapers."

"Put the poor guy/girl/etc. on two weeks notice. Cutbacks, they said."

"Here's to the pencil-pushers. May they all get lead poisoning."

"Tomorrow's Friday, ___. You know what happens here on Friday?"

"You got that camera of yours? Mine's in the shop."

"Yeah, that was a long time ago. We should do that again sometime."

"So what's his/her/their/etc. problem?"

"I know this all seems pretty painful now... but you'll find someone new."

"Got the password...?"

"Don't tell me you've lost your sense of humor already..."

"So I took a couple of dirty pictures. Sue me."

"I caught you with your PANTS down!"

"I'm surprised you're not more cooperative, ___."

"No, not all the time! Only when it was funny!"

"No wonder you hate me...!"

"C'mon, don't cry, I don't hate you."

"This means war."

"C'mon, ___, where's your sense of humor?"

"The stain is already gone; It's disappearing ink! No hard feelings, I hope."

"If it's ACME, it's a gasser!"

"One of these days you're gonna DIE laughing."

"Work's been kinda slow since cartoons went to color..."

"Not tonight, ___... I've got a headache..."

"But ___, you promised...!"

"What could have POSSIBLY happened to you to turn you into such a sourpuss?"

"Take comfort, ___, you're not the first man/woman/etc. whose S/O played patty cake on 'em."

"I won't believe it, I CAN'T believe it, I SHAN'T believe it..."

"Is there nothing that can permeate your impervious puss?"

"We're SUPPOSED to be hiding, what's WRONG with you?!"

"What's wrong with YOU? You're the only person in this theater that isn't laughing!"

"___'s the love of my life! The apple of my eye! The cream in my coffee...!"

"Drink this, it'll make you feel better."

"Just like a toon to drop a safe on a guy's/girl's/etc.'s head."

"I see working for a toon has rubbed off on you."

"My whole purpose in life is to make people laugh!"

"I've been risking my neck for you!"

"I'm looking for a murderer."

"You're my only hope...!"

"You keep talking like that and I'm gonna have to wash your mouth out."

"Ain't I a stinker?"

"A better lover than a driver, huh?"

"Seriously, what do you see in that guy/girl/etc.?"

"Give me another excuse to pump you full of lead!"

"We toons may ACT idiotic, but we're not stupid!"

"We demand justice, but the real meaning of the word probably hits you like a ton of bricks!"

"___, darling, I want you to know that I love you."

[888sss]

Potions

Does anyone still write for Draco Malfoy?

Draco Malfoy x (Female) Reader

Desc: Reader spends a lot of time talking about Draco with her friends, so she finds a way to hang out with him.

Warnings: uh like kinda fluff at the end? Pansy Parkinson? Idk

Draco and I have been close since we were sorted into Slytherin years ago, and recently the time we spent together felt full of tension, and maybe its one sided, but I was starting to feel for him romantically.

I knew that Pansy liked Draco, and since she was my best friend I obviously kept that information very private and to myself. Of course I would never tell Pansy, I liked Draco, but I did tell Blaise. The three of us have been friends since first year, and more recently, Pansy joined us because she didn't talk to us until the past 2 months.

It was about 9 pm, we were all sitting in the common room. Pansy was trying to make conversation with Draco. Enzo, Theo and Adrien all sat having their own talk. I sat with Blaise as he told me about this blonde Ravenclaw girl he wanted to take out, whose name he wouldn't disclose. We then started getting into the conversation of relationships, and who we think would look good together. Blaise was surprisingly good at finding romantic couples out of people, but maybe that was because he was observant.

"Okay Mr. Match maker who would you set up with... Looney Lovegood!" I ask thinking i finally found someone he wouldn't be able to think of a match for. 

"She's not looney, don't call her that, she's quite nice actually, and I'm not sure I could match her with someone. Luna likes to focus on her studies, and research." Blaise said in a very matter-of-fact manner. 

"I knew that she would stump you! and since when have you been paying attention to Luna so much?" I say exaggerating her name. Blaise stares at me blankly, and suddenly i am reminded of the mysterious Blonde Ravenclaw.

"You have a thing for Luna Lovegood!" I practically yelled as i made the connection, Draco looking over with a raised eyebrow pointed at Blaise inferring that this would definitely be brought up later. 

"Ooh Blaise wants the nerdy chics!" Adrien laughs from across the room causing the rest of us to burst out in laughter.

After the room settles down, Blaise looks back at me and speaks loudly, "What about Draco, who do you think would be a nice fit for him?" Blaise says with a smirk on his face, knowing that Draco is now overhearing this conversation. I look over at the Blonde haired boy and it is as if I can see his ears tune into our conversation completely. Of course I'm not gonna give my genuine answer, which would be me, of course, but with Draco and Pansy in the room i'm not willing to take that risk.

"Well, I think Draco is... He's better alone, he doesn't really seem like dating material. However we still should take into account all the girls he brings back to his dorm room every Friday. That's gotta be some type of credit." I say in a sarcastic tone trying to bring the conversation back between Blaise and I.

"Every Friday night is pretty Specific, y/n how much attention are you paying to our dorm's visitors, huh?" Blaise continues the joke, taunting me with the information i gave him weeks ago.

"Well y'know with Theodore Nott in that room of course I'm going to pay attention." i look over giving him a wink, as he sits by the fireplace and looks up from his conversation with Adrien and Enzo.

"You're always welcome over, y/n!" Theo looks at me and winks back. I smile and look back at Blaise who is looking at Draco, who of course is staring at me. His eyebrows raised in an 'oh yeah?' type manner, but no words come from his mouth. 

The night continues and we eventually all come together, discussion, jokes, and insults, flying across the room as we laugh and poke fun of each other.

"Can you guys keep it down, im trying to sleep! Enzo yells from a couch in the corner of the room.

"Shut the fuck up Enzo!" Draco shoots back, as he stands up, and we all start to get up and gather our things, realizing we should probably go to sleep as well.

Pansy and I go back to our dorm, where the other girls are already sleeping, I get into the shower and wash my hair, and my body, and then start my face care after getting out. 

While getting into my pajamas, I cant help but think about Draco, and what it would be like if we were dating. I somehow convinced myself to go talk to him, finding myself at his door. in my pajamas.

I knock 3 times, and Theo comes to the door.

"Taking up my offer princess?"

"Who is it?" I hear Draco and Blaise say at the same time.

"Sorry Theo, but I'm actually here to talk to Draco." I say apologetically, knowing Theo's just joking anyways.

"Draco you've got a visitor!" He calls to Draco as he opens the door all the way and moves over allowing me to see into the room. 

I stand in shock when my eyes find Draco. He was shirtless, and his hair was wet, as if he had gotten out of the shower. I've seen Draco shirtless before, but he must be working out lately because his abs, and arms were more defined and muscular than I remember.

"Y/n you can come in, it's rude to stand in doorways." Blaise says laughing at me. I make my way into the room and sit on Draco's bed as I've done countless times before.

"So what'd you want to talk to me about?" Draco asks, standing next to me.

"Well first I want you to put on a shirt, but secondly, I need your help with potions." I lied realizing that I didn't want to make any moves on Draco while our friends were in the room.

"Why didn't you ask while we were in the common room, we're all about to go to sleep." Blaise complains turning off his lamp. 

"Because I was so intrigued by hearing about your not so secret crush on Luna." I quickly retorted, causing Theo to come out of the bathroom, and bombard Blaise with questions.

"So what are you confused about?" Draco said putting on a shirt, and pulling out his desk chair to sit across from me.

"Well firstly-" I started

"ZABINI HAD A WET DREAM ABOUT LUNA!" Theo shouted, jumping on top of Blaise, which caused them to start arguing very loudly.

"Can we go some place else, i can't hear myself over the children in the room." I said raising my voice. Draco nodded in response, grabbing his binder and pencil.

"Sorry mommy." Theo shouted on my way out, while throwing a pillow at Blaise's face.

Draco exited behind me, and we went to sit back in the common room, in front of the fireplace.

"So like I was saying, yesterdays homework isn't making sense, and our quiz tomorrow is really stressing me out because i don't know what directions go with which spells." I quickly made up realizing that I for some reason was subconsciously continuing this lie as an excuse to talk to him alone.

"Well for all the potions you need to remember the ratios,"  Draco pulled put a blank paper and his notes from class, beginning to make a diagram. "For these potions the ratio is one to four to three, and you set up the math like this..." 

He continued to talk and at some point i stopped listening and watched his face glow from the fire in front of us. The way his nose and jawline were even more defined. The way his eyes slightly squinted when he worked out the math. He's so pretty.

"Y/n are you even listening to me?" Draco says waving his hand in front of my face. 

"uh yes I'm listening, and it makes a lot more sense now." I say in a convincing tone that hopefully he'll believe. 

"Are you tired? You seem tired. Maybe we can work on this in the morning, yeah?" He asked looking at me with a concerned look on his face.

"Yeah that works, thank you." I say with a genuine smile. He stands up and reaches his hand out to lift me up with a small smile on his face as well. We stand there, neither of us wanting to leave. Our hips felt to be connected to a string as I couldn't bring myself to just walk away.

I took a step closer and got up on my tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 

"Goodnight Draco." I whispered, as I started to walk away. He grabbed my arm and spun me back around.

"I think you missed, pretty girl." Draco smiled Pulling me into him, making our bodies crash together. He threw his binder onto the couch, and our lips collided, exploring unknown territories and starting unknown boundaries. He pulled away from the kiss, out of breath. grinning.

"What?" I laughed at him

"We don't have a potions quiz tomorrow. You set me up!" he sounded surprised. He held my face in his hands and kissed me again. 

"Goodnight pretty girl." he said with a smile as he gathered his things and walked back to his dorm.

[multievelyn]

i know you want this

Friday. Your friend invited you to a party that you dont even know the location of or whos coming. You're just going to make her happy. She picks you up around 8pm. You're wearing a seductive black silk dress. "Woah Y/n you look so good, who you trying to impress?'. You laugh it off knowing you literally dont know whose coming. You open you're phone and you see that the man you have been eyeing is coming to the party. Matt Sturniolo. Everything about him turns you on. You finally feel a bit better about going.Once you arrive you and your friend go in. She greets so many people you dont know and you shyly go "Hi". You're heart drops when you see Matt and Nick walking over. "Hey guys how are you?", They both respond "good" in sync. You make eye contact with Matt and feel your face get hot and red, While he just smirks at you. The night goes on and you go ahead and start talking to new people making friends all while trying to get closer to him. Its now later and the party is coming to an end. Nick: "Hey, do you think it would be fine if you gave us a ride? My friend that took us kinda left already". Sure, you say going to inform your friend. You all walk to the car and when you're about to get front seat nick goes "sorryy" winking at matt. That means you and Matt will have to sit together, in the backseat. You smile at the thought. Matt opens the door for you and you give him a soft "thank you". While your friend drives she starts playing music and nick falls asleep. All of a sudden you feel a hand on your thigh. You dont say nothing but you're getting wet at the feeling. Matt then whispers in your ear " ive seen how youve looked at me, i know how bad you want this" He then slowly starts moving his long skinny fingers down your thigh. He then starts moving his fingers along your wet spot and you moan at the feeling. He all of a sudden gets his other arm and puts it around your mouth. He quickly puts his hand in your panties and starts rubbing on your clit. You moan loudly into his hand and he puts more pressure into your face. He says in your ear " quiet princess, you dont want anyone to hear" He then quickly puts his middle finger in you curling it fast. You start moaning and grinding onto his hand. He then inserts another finger and starts going twice as fast. Your neck veins start popping out as you're trying your best not to moan. He removes his hand from your face and you say "i-im g-gonna c-cum". "not yet princess, hold it a bit longer" He says. "Beg for it. Beg for me to let you cum baby" You try your best to whisper as you go "please let me cum daddy i-im so close". 'Fine", he goes curling his finger hitting you g-spot as you squirt all over his hand. You moan loudly but lucky your friend didn't hear. He then takes his fingers and licks them clean. You couldn't resist so you pull him into a sweaty sloppy wet kiss. You moan at the taste of you in his mouth.As soon as you drop him and nick off at their house you open your phone to a "Hey Baby" from a random number.

[youmenotyummy]

Converse High — P.SH [박성훈] {CH. 7}

Synopsis: Shin Y/N was given the task to deliver her best friend's love letter to the shoe locker of Park Sunghan, the president of the broadcasting club. It just so happened to be that Park Sunghan's shoe box is situated right next to the shoe box of Park Sunghoon, a boy whose name had a one-syllable difference.

FRIDAY 10:18 a.m. — Decelis Academy

A typical Friday morning consisted of the usual mission to scout out a place for Y/N to take a nap during the school's first fifteen-minute break of the day. She didn't usually have this much trouble trying to find a spot; she would have found one with the perfect amount of light and the perfect temperature by now, but today, luck just wasn't on her side as a multitude of students roamed the halls making as much noise as possible. Maybe it was a sign from the universe telling her to go socialize with people outside of the film club.

Y/N stretched her arms up and yawned, dragging her feet towards the stairs. Maybe I can try another floor, she thought, but just before she could make it to the first step, she tripped over the air and gasped. Y/N waited to embrace her rocky way down the stairs before planting herself into the ground, but that moment never came. She felt her body being pulled back by the collar of her school blazer; Y/N turned her head to look at the person who just saved her a lifetime's worth of embarrassment. It was...what's his name?

"Are you alright?" A smooth but masculine voice met Y/N's ears.

"Oh, yeah," She straightened herself out and turned her whole body around to face him. "I'm fine. Thanks for pulling me back!" She laughed while hoping the stranger would laugh too to ease the awkwardness she was feeling.

"I don't think we've properly met before..." His eyes travelled to her name tag. "Shin Y/N." He looked up at her eyes and smiled. "Nice to meet you, I'm Park Sunghan." Oh! She knew that name!

"Nice to meet you too." Y/N smiled and bowed. "Thank you once again for saving me back there. I probably would have dislocated a knee or something, haha. Is there any way I can repay you? Maybe a drink? A snack? Homework answers?"

"Haha! I would appreciate that last one, but I think I'll settle for getting to know you better. Would you like to come over to the broadcasting room during lunch? My cousin will probably be there too." This piqued her interest; she's never seen another club's room before.

"Am I allowed in there?" she asks cautiously.

"Of course! Believe it or not, it's a popular place where students go to eat lunch. Might be because of the snacks we keep in our mini fridge." Sunghan laughs. Not long after, Y/N accepts his deal. "Great! See you later, then." Sunghan brightly smiled at her one last time before descending down the stairs himself.

FRIDAY 12:30 p.m. — Decelis Academy

Y/N stood up from her seat and stretched; the cause of her ever-aching back remained unknown. The sound of the bell beckoned students out of their classrooms and created a stampede on the way to the cafeteria. Y/N brought her arms back down, one resting on the side of her body and another landing on top of Chaewon's head.

"Chaewon," She ruffled her friend's hair. "Sunghan invited me to the broadcasting room for lunch. Do you wanna come with me?" At the mention of Sunghan's name, Chaewon whipped her head around.

"Sunghan?"

"Yeah! I think he said his cousin was gonna be there–"

"No thanks!" Y/N was cut off. It took a second to process the girl's response, then a flick of confusion hit her.

"Huh? Why not? I thought you were into them."

"It's just..." Chaewon shyly glanced around the room. "I'm not ready to see them yet."

"Oh," Y/N's arm slipped off of Chaewon's head. "Then I'll just stay with you. I'll tell Sunghan that I'll come another time when you're ready."

"No no! He invited you only, so I shouldn't hold you back."

"Chae, you know how awkward I am with people I'm not too familiar with. Going alone is like choosing death."

"Well you seemed okay when you talked about your time with Sunghoon." Chaewon looked at her with a smug, teasing look on her face. Y/N lightly flicked her friend's forehead.

"That's different!"

"Why? Because it's Sunghoon?"

"I'm leaving you, goodbye."

"Wait!" Chaewon stood up and grabbed Y/N's arm before she could leave the classroom. She slipped another envelope into Y/N's hand. "Deliver this for me, please?"

"To his locker?" Chaewon nodded. Y/N nodded back in confirmation. Chaewon let go of her arm and let Y/N walk off.

"I love you!" Chaewon sent a cheesy blowing kiss towards Y/N, which the girl caught with her empty hand.

This delivery surely had to be successful. She wouldn't mess up like the first time. She even remembered his name. Locker 20– no, locker 19: Park Sunghan. Y/N nodded in satisfaction as she slipped the letter into the correct locker.

"Y/N?" She jumped at the voice coming from behind her.

"Sunghoon?" She widened her eyes in surprise.

"Let me guess, another delivery?" Y/N nodded in response. "Must be tiring trying not to get caught."

"Yet you've caught me twice..." she mumbled. Sunghoon must have heard her because he let out a small laugh and slightly turned away to hide it.

"Well now that you're done with your delivery, do you want to get lunch at the cafeteria with me?" She didn't know why, but the tips of her ears felt hot. Unbeknownst to her, her heart skipped a small beat too.

"Ah, sorry, but I'm going to the broadcasting room today." Y/N put her hands together in apology.

"Broadcasting room?"

"Sunghan invited me! He said he wanted to get to know me better." she smiled. Sunghan? Park Sunghan? The guy whose name Sunghoon saw on the letter in his locker? This was a bit odd. He knew the girl said she was only delivering letters to Sunghan for a friend, but suddenly having lunch with him was a bit suspicious. Maybe he was overthinking, but he couldn't help but feel a bit jealous.

"Ah, I see." Sunghoon nodded. "Maybe next time?"

"For sure!" He waved the girl off and stayed by his shoe locker. Sunghoon pulled his phone out and, almost like an instinct, opened Twitter.

Extra #6! Peeking into the Film-Making Club...🎥🕵️‍♀️

previous ⭐️ masterlist ⭐️ next

Taglist is open! 💗

Taglist: @luvistqrzzz @svnghoonsonly @aernx @thesassy-mia @ak-aaa-li

[matilda-jugs]

💕Positivity prime time! Share five things you love about yourself, four things you're excited about, OR three people you care deeply about and why. Pass this along to someone whose posts make you smile💕

Things i love about myself

1. My ability to love

2. My style

3. My love for harry styles

4. The ability for me to care about little things

5. My hair

4 things I’m excited about

1. Cigarettes after sex concert Friday

2. Spending time with my best friend

3. Becoming a vet assistant

4. Waiting for us to heal

3 people I care about and why

1. My best friend Mia, she’s always been there for me and supported me even when I’m in the wrong she believes I’m in the right. I feel loved by her even when she doesn’t show it much I know I mean something to her.

2. My sister, she’s been there for me for every little and big thing and has comforted me when no one else could or wanted to. I feel cared by her and she comforts me more than anyone could physically.

3. My first love, he just knew me. He read my mind. Everything about him is so special and I worship and look up to him a lot. He got through so many things and it makes me admire him as a person. If anyone told me I was just like him, I think I’d cry happy tears. He was the most perfect man. Everything makes him perfect even his imperfections it’s still so absolutely perfect, it’s ridiculous. He’s such a shy, confident person and he doesn’t even know it and it makes him even better. He was the first person who I fell in love with and ultimately the last person; I don’t regret knowing him and i don’t regret anything i ever did with him because i know to this day he is the man I’m gonna marry, it’s gonna be a hard and difficult journey but I’m willing to go through hard times to be with him forever; to call him mine forever. I love you my angel. 23.

[lightseoul]

Hiiiiii! I really love your work!!

Can i ask for number 20?

hello, love! thank you so much, and know that i see you interacting with my pieces and i truly appreciate it <3 also, at this point, i'm not even writing the prompts in order of the requests LOL so you get a fast pass, too! this bkg is always way too fun to write! i hope this one makes y'all smile.

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

warnings. minors dni, please!

20. "THIS IS SUCH A WASTE OF TIME." (0.9k)

“…so just like the last time, i want you to relax, okay?”

from where he’s laying on top of your pristine king-sized bed, a half-naked bakugou only glowers at you, arms folded behind his head in such a way that makes his biceps oh so bitable. he’s radiating that domineering aura that he always gives off in any context, only this time it’s a little…

misplaced.

you reach out to touch him, dressed in nothing but your intimates as well, ultimately placing your hand on his inner thigh. you feel him immediately tense at the contact.

caressing the skin with soothing circles in an attempt to calm him, you toss him a gentle smile. “just—let me make you feel good. alright, katsuki?”

“yeah, yeah,” he quips dismissively, rolling his eyes in nonchalance, comically juxtaposing the way his abdominal muscles and thighs are pulsing in what you’ve long identified as budding anticipation. “get on with it already.”

you bite back a laugh at his masked enthusiasm. the last thing you want is to make him feel embarrassed—you never want to make him feel bad, especially when you’re being intimate, and, well…

let’s just say you’ve been thinking about tonight ever since you broached the topic with him last week over dinner.

“katsuki…” you remember starting, nerves shot as you toyed with the leftover rice grains on your plate.

he looked up from where he sat across you on your dining table, eyebrows raised in question, wordlessly nudging you to go on.

“there’s something i’ve been wanting to try out,” you continued.

“…okay?”

“in bed.”

now, it’s not like you two are vanilla nor are you prudes—not that there’s anything wrong with that.

it’s just that the topic of sex makes you both flustered, and so talking about it is never an easy feat. but when curiosity and the burning need do get to either of you, you always make it a point to bring it up with the other.

the hand that was holding a glass of cold water froze mid-air at your statement, and you looked up at bakugou, whose gaze had averted from yours.

it probably took him a full minute or two to finally reply, not before clearing his throat like he always did when he felt awkward.

“what is it?”

“i want to top you,” you blurted out before you could think better against it. “…again.”

and when he didn’t say anything, you decided to just take the opportunity and press on.

“i know we never really talked about me topping again after that first time, but i figured that you liked it enough, based on how you—”

“—alright, alright,” he cut you off, a faint hue of pink high on his cheeks. “i get it.”

“so you’ll do it then?” you asked him then and there, excitement bleeding into your tone.

what felt like a few agonizing minutes passed before he finally nodded, an unreadable expression on his face. “not now, though. this friday, when i get off early.”

which brings you to now.

it’s bakugou’s voice, though, that actually brings you back to the present moment.

“are ya gonna get on with it or are you gonna keep on staring at me?”

you pull back and feel yourself flush at the call out, but will yourself to remain composed. you’re not about to let him steal your role for the night—you’ve fought hard enough to get to where you are right now.

“sorry,” you quickly retort, “before we start, though—”

he groans.

“—let’s go through the safe words first.”

“what am i, a fucking dumbass?” he sneers, traces of restlessness evident on his features that are extra pretty under the dim lights of your bedroom. “you don’t have to keep on repeating ‘em every time we fuck.”

“it’s important that we reiterate them,” you argue, “especially for tonight, since we’re trying something new.”

for the nth time, bakugou rolls his eyes but relents, giving you a curt nod.

“so every now and then, i’ll ask you what color you’re at. green is for when you’re all good to continue, yellow is when you want to take a pause, and red is when—”

“—i want to stop, i know.”

“no questions asked—i’ll stop the minute you say red. so don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?”

“okay,” he tosses back so impatiently you’re now really struggling to keep a straight face. he shifts on his back and adjusts his boxer shorts, which, you observe are getting tighter by the second.

you haven’t even started, yet the mere thought of you topping him—however ambiguous that is—is turning him on.

bakugou must’ve noticed you looking and the slight upturn of the corner of your lips, because he shoots you a glare. “you done? god, this is such a waste of time.”

at that, you snort. “you’re not even gonna ask me what i’m gonna do?”

“how bad can it be?”

oh, dear.

the man is probably expecting you to just ride him.

you chance another look at your beautiful boyfriend, and a tidal wave of want washes over you so violently you almost stumble from where you’re seated at the bottom edge of the bed.

well.

it’s now or never, right?

and to hell with it if you can’t have him this way now.

taking a deep breath, you steel yourself for what you’re about to say next.

“…get on your knees, katsuki.”

his reply is almost instantaneous.

“what?”

to that, you shoot him the most innocent smile you can muster.

“‘cause i’m about to finger you.”

[songsformonkeys]

Saying I love you to your best friend, and to the friend that could perhaps be something more (Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson)

Month: February

Word count: ~5900

Warnings: None

Notes: Not quite a fake/pretend dating fic, but close. Unbeta'd so any and all mistakes are my own.

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

In the grand scheme of things, perhaps it is a bit silly. After all, what's one missed holiday when Hawkins is still dealing with the aftermath of the Upside down trying to split the town open like a baked potato?

But Steve can't help it. Valentine's Day is his favorite holiday of the year. It’s one of the few holidays where Steve doesn't have to lie about having plans to prevent people from feeling sorry for him. And ever since he discovered that he liked girls - and that, generally, girls liked him too - he has not spent a single Valentine's Day alone.

1987 is shaping up to be the first and that really sucks.

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

It's the night before the Big Day and Steve, Robin, and Eddie are drinking and smoking in Steve's living room, same as they do almost every Friday.

Robin has claimed the best spot and is lounging on the couch, while Eddie is doing some sort of gravity-defying sprawl on the armchair, that leaves him hanging half upside down over the seat and makes Steve worry that ash from his joint is gonna fall right into his eyes any second now.

Steve is stretched out on the floor, running his fingers slowly back and forth through the incredibly soft, off-white threads of the rug, while he goes through his mental Rolodex of eligible Hawkins girls that he could ask out on a date. He has spent the better part of the last half hour complaining to Robin and Eddie about his lack of plans for tomorrow – resolutely ignoring Eddie's own complaints that Steve's whining is putting a damper on his high.

Neither of his friends seems to even get what the big deal is.

”It's just a silly capitalist holiday,” Robin tells him, to which Eddie snickers and mumbles out a ”Hear hear” around the butt of his joint. His hair is looking extra wild in his upside-down position, and his cheeks are flushed in a way that makes it difficult for Steve to tear his eyes away.

Steve blames the little dance his intestines do on the alcohol, and bites back the nasty King Steve urge to point out that maybe they would have an easier time seeing the appeal of Valentine's Day if either of them had ever actually been on a proper date.

Instead, he sighs.

”I'm losing my touch,” he tells them with a pout, unable to help feeling sorry for himself. He's changed a lot during the last few years, but he had been under the impression that the general consensus was that the changes were for the better. The lack of dates is making him doubt.

Maybe it's the scars? He's able to cover up most of them but the ones around his neck are trickier – there are only so many times a guy can get away with wearing a turtleneck before people start to question his life choices – and the girls are bound to have noticed. Hell, Steve himself still feels nausea bubbling up and his chest tightening when he has to look at the scars too closely, so he can't blame them.

He wishes he could pull the scars off as well as Eddie does. Unlike Steve, Eddie wears his scars on full display as often as he can get away with it, almost as if challenging people to comment and say something about them. And they don't look bad on him the same way they do on Steve. Even the jagged lines and stretched skin across his jawline are oddly alluring, and more than once, Steve has felt his fingers itch with the urge to reach out and touch.

”...What if I never get a date again?”

”Oh for fuck's sake!” Eddie growls and sits up. He puts the joint he's smoking out in the ashtray with a stabbing motion before aggressively pointing at Steve. ”If it means that much to you, Harrington, I'll be your goddamn date!”

” What? ” Steve and Robin ask in unison, staring at the metalhead, and Steve isn't sure whose voice takes on the higher pitch. Eddie looks at Steve like he'd much rather sell him cheap at a yard sale than go on a date with him, but doesn't take back the offer.

”You'll get a date and a chance to show me what all this Valentine's fuss is about. What do you say, big boy?”

Steve's stomach does a weird swoopy thing that he doesn't think can be entirely blamed on the weed and booze. Eddie and him, going on a date. After almost a year's friendship, Steve is used to Eddie flirting with him by now - even if it still makes him blush - and sometimes Steve even manages to come up with a witty retort of his own that makes Eddie laugh and smile like he's won the lottery. But that's harmless banter and teasing between friends. This... this feels like more, even if Steve's not entirely sure why. He's hung out with Eddie alone before.

Going on a date with him... doesn't have to be weird, does it?

”Yeah...yeah okay,” he finally answers, when he manages to find his words.

”Great! Perfect even! Now that's settled...” Eddie fishes another joint out of the breast pocket of his shirt and holds it out with a flourish. ”Lighten up and light up with me, Harrington!”

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

”Soo...” Robin says in the kitchen the next morning, speaking slowly in a way that absolutely does not come naturally to her. ”You're taking Eddie out for a Valentine's date tonight?”

”Apparently I am,” Steve replies, equally slowly, not looking up from where he's making pancakes for the two of them and Eddie, who's still asleep in the guestroom upstairs. Steve isn't sure he wants to hear where Robin is going with this.

In the light of day, the whole date idea leaves even more of a funny feeling in his stomach, and he keeps having to remind himself that it's really not a big deal. He says as much to Robin as well.

”No big deal, Rob,” he tells her. ”It's just a date between friends. He's doing me a favor.”

Before she can say anything more on the subject, they're interrupted by a loud yawn and a shuffle of bare feet as Eddie enters the kitchen.

”Morning Thing One, Thing Two,” he says, patting Steve on the back as he walks past.

”Who's who?” Robin asks curiously, and Steve feels relief as the spotlight shifts away from him, grateful for how easily distracted his best friend is. Eddie chuckles, clearly more pleased than Steve to be basking in Robin's attention.

”I'm sorry, Buckley,” he says and Steve doesn't need to see Eddie's face to know which fake-apologetic expression he's giving her. ”You're awesome and would be number one, but there's simply no competing with a pretty man who makes me pancakes in the morning.”

Steve feels his cheeks flush and he doesn't look up from the pan until the pancakes are all done, and Eddie and Robin have moved on to another topic.

He serves them both their breakfast and sits down next to Robin at the table. He's just starting in on his second pancake when he catches Eddie watching him with a soft smile playing across his lips. Steve is momentarily distracted and drips syrup down the front of his shirt.

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

Eddie and Robin both leave after breakfast and Steve spends the rest of the morning and early afternoon feeling antsy and restless.

Despite it being last minute, and a pity offer on Eddie's part, Steve doesn't want him to feel like Steve is giving him a subpar date. But he also knows there's a fine line between a good date and an awkwardly overprepared one, and Steve doesn't want to end up taking Eddie on the latter kind either.

Eventually, he decides to play it safe and go for the tried and true dinner-and-a-movie kind of date.

He calls around to a few restaurants and has to politely suffer through various iterations of the person on the other end of the line jokingly commenting on him being out last minute, and apologizing about the fact they're already fully booked for the evening before he strikes gold with a burger place just a little outside of Hawkins. Steve thanks the lady on the other end profusely when she agrees to reserve a table for them, despite not usually taking reservations, and makes a silent vow to tip really well.

Getting ready also takes longer than usual, and Steve's not entirely sure why that is. He keeps second-guessing every item of clothing he pulls out of his closet, deeming them either too casual or too formal. What the hell do you even wear to a date with one of your best friends?

Steve has to tell himself to get a grip when he glances at his wristwatch and seriously contemplates if he's got time for a shopping trip before he's supposed to pick Eddie up. He settles for the less- but only slightly less- pathetic option of calling Robin.

”Emergency hotline for dinguses, this is Robin speaking!” she greets him cheerily. Steve blinks and holds the phone away from his ear as if it could explain his best friend's newly discovered psychic abilities.

”...How did you know it was me?” Steve asks.

”I didn't. But I guessed you would call at some point and it seemed like it was time for you to get ready for your date .” Steve isn't sure he appreciates the emphasis she puts on that last word. ”I figured it was worth the gamble,” she continues, and Steve wonders, not for the first time, if it's normal for friends to be able to read each other this well. His pondering is cut short by Robin speaking again.

”So tell me, what can I help with?”

Steve heaves out a dramatic sigh and stares at the clothes strewn across his bed.

”I don't know what to wear,” he confesses.

”Ah, the age-old question! I assume the date jeans are a given.”

”Well...” Steve hesitates.

”What's wrong with the date jeans?” Robin asks, sounding almost offended on behalf of the pants, and Steve glances over at the jeans laid out at the foot of the bed.

”I don't know... what if Eddie notices?”

”That you're wearing pants?” Robin teases.

”That I'm wearing the date jeans, Robin!”

”Well, Dingus, what's the big deal if he does? He already knows you're taking him on a date. Besides, you love those jeans and they're your date jeans for a reason. Because...” Robin prompts.

”...They're comfortable, yet form-fitting,” Steve finishes, mumbling.

”Exactly!” Robin agrees. ”Why change a winning concept? Even I can appreciate the way your butt looks in those jeans, Steve!”

”Eww,” Steve says with a grimace but then he nods. ”Okay, fine! I'll wear the date jeans.” He picks the pants up and shimmies into them while holding the phone trapped against his ear with his shoulder. ”What about the shirt?”

”Eh, I say skip it! Can't imagine Eddie will complain.”

”Robiiin,” he pleads.

”Fine fine!”

She proceeds to give him a few suggestions, and even bullies him into trying a few of them on when he shoots down the suggestion too quickly, but none of them feel quite right. Not that Steve actually knows what feeling he's waiting for, except maybe for divine inspiration.

”Hmm,” Robin finally says. ”Well, what about the green sweater I sometimes borrow? I think it's currently back in your closet.”

”The knitted one? You don't think that's a little too tight? There's a reason I let you steal it, you know.”

”Borrow it! And no. I think it'll be just tight enough to say date rather than casual hangout”

Steve rummages around his closet until he finds the sweater in question. He's not sure he's actually worn it in years but when he pulls it on, he has to admit that Robin has a point. He looks good.

Steve does a little half-twirl in front of the mirror before he tells her as much.

”You can thank me by sparing me the details of how the date goes tonight,” she tells him and Steve rolls his eyes while arranging his hair in the mirror. He knows she's teasing him and it makes absolutely no sense that her words give him an anticipatory feeling in his gut, making him wonder if there will actually be any details to share. It's just Eddie, he reminds himself.

”Steve,” Robin says, and the sober tone of her voice makes his hand still.

”Yeah?”

”I hope you have a really nice time tonight. You deserve it. And Eddie too.”

Steve smiles, humbled, as always, by the love he can hear in Robin's voice. He feels the mirroring feeling warm his chest.

”Thanks, Robs. I love you,” he tells her.

”Love you too, dingus. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

”I promise.”

When Steve shows up at Eddie's place an hour later, he realizes that his effort to pick out a nice outfit for the date has been sorely wasted on Eddie. Out of the two of them, Steve is the only one to have even remotely cared to put any sort of effort in when it comes to clothing.

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

Eddie opens the door with a smile that Steve pays little to no attention to because Eddie is also wearing the same clothes from this morning and from the day before. The plaid shirt Eddie's got on over his threadbare t-shirt is wrinkled and Steve notices the lingering smell of weed and booze.

”No,” Steve instinctively says, making Eddie stop in his tracks.

”No?” he echoes.

”Go change!” Steve tells him, placing one hand on Eddie's chest to gently push him back into the trailer.

”Oh for fuck's sake,” Eddie grumbles, but he doesn't dig his heels in or put up any further protests.

”I told you,” Steve hears a rumbling voice from inside the trailer and he looks over to find Eddie's uncle on the couch, reading the newspaper. He looks up to give Steve a nod. He doesn't smile but Steve recognizes the amused twinkle in his eyes.

”Oh gang up on me, why don't you!” Eddie complains as he stomps off toward his bedroom.

”Something clean, please! And maximum one skull or demon!” Steve calls after him, making Eddie flip him the bird before closing the door behind him.

With Eddie gone, Steve shifts and glances back towards uncle Wayne, who tips his head towards the armchair, gesturing for Steve to take a seat.

Steve does, suddenly wondering how much Wayne actually knows about tonight's arrangement. He's been over to pick Eddie up several times and Steve has gotten the general impression that Wayne likes him just fine, even if the older man is certainly more subtle with expressing his emotions than his nephew is. Steve can't help but wonder if that would change if he knew Steve was taking Eddie out for a date. A pity date, but a date nonetheless.

They sit in silence until Eddie emerges from his bedroom a little while later.

This time around he's wearing a different pair of black jeans and a plain black t-shirt. It's a simple outfit but, with the addition of Eddie's rings, the guitar pick necklace, the tattoos, and the scars on display, the effect is quite striking. Steve is hit again by the realization of how fucking cool Eddie is, and it's leaving him a little speechless.

Eddie does a little twirl, the same as Steve had done in his bedroom.

”Is this up to your standards, your highness?” he asks, mockingly, seemingly unaware of the effect he has on Steve. Steve thinks Wayne might notice, though, because the corners of his mouth quirk upwards and he steps in to reply.

”Be nice to the man treating you to dinner, Edward,” he chastises.

”I'm plenty nice, old man! I just think it's bad form to insult the fashion sense of the person you're taking on a date,” Eddie replies, making Steve freeze and watch Wayne for his reaction. The older man shakes his head and waves them towards the door.

”Feel free to keep him out as long as you like, Steve. Would give me some damn peace and quiet for a change,” he says making Eddie laugh as he shrugs on his leather jacket and grabs a now blushing Steve by the arm.

”Bye, uncle Wayne!” Eddie calls over his shoulder as they exit the trailer.

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

”Your uncle didn't seem too bothered by me taking you out tonight,” Steve says - voice carefully neutral - a little while later, as they're driving through town. Eddie doesn't even look up at the comment, too busy rummaging through Steve's disappointing (his word, not Steve's) collection of tapes, as if something new that's more to his liking might have magically appeared since last week.

”Why would he be? He loves you. You understand his sports references and actually enjoy watching the games with him,” he says, clearly not understanding what Steve is getting at.

”No, but I mean like on a... you know...” Steve tries again. That makes Eddie stop and look over.

”I'd hate to break your heart here, but you're not the first boy to quote-unquote take me out , Stevie,” he says and it takes a second for the implication of the words to register in Steve's brain.

”Oh...” Steve says, a little surprised. Eddie is like Robin. What are the odds of that? Do they know of each other or have both of them decided to share their secret with just Steve? Steve tries to find something supportive to say, and do better than last time, but his mind is a little too hung up on the fact that Eddie apparently dates – and dates boys, at that.

Eddie shifts in the seat next to his.

”Is that... an issue?” he asks, and Steve suddenly realizes his silence could of course be interpreted in multiple ways.

”No!” he rushes to protest. ”No, of course not! It's...nice. It's good. We're cool. Thanks for telling me, man.” Steve looks over to find Eddie watching him, a curl of hair pulled over his mouth that does little to hide the relieved smile forming underneath.

”No problem,” Eddie says. Then, before anything else can be said, he reaches over and turns on the radio, leaving Steve to try and sort out the strange feeling in his chest on his own. Eddie dates guys.

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

This newly revealed information about his friend is still rattling around in Steve's brain when they park outside the diner, but he forces himself not to think too closely about it when he steps out and opens the car door for Eddie, who's quickly trying to shove the cassette tapes back in their box in the glove compartment.

”Such a gentleman,” he teases. ”Might have to help me walk in there, Harrington, lest my knees buckle.”

”If you fall over, I'm not taking the blame. I've seen you on a basketball court. With coordination like that, it's a miracle you can even walk at all.”

Eddie looks indignant.

”The one time I show up for that stupid class! My shoelaces were untied!”

”Sure they were.”

”I take back the gentleman comment. You’re a mean boy, Steve Harrington!” Eddie says, following him inside.

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

The moan Eddie lets out makes Steve want to reach across the table to cover his mouth because it might possibly be the most inappropriate sound he's ever witnessed anyone making in a public setting, and for more reasons than one, he needs Eddie to stop.

”Jesus Christ, Eds!” he hisses instead, looking around to see if they're about to get thrown out. Thankfully, the few other patrons seem to be blissfully unaware of the obscene sounds that Eddie Munson is apparently able to produce.

Eddie just gives him a wide grin and any confusing thoughts Steve might have entertained are dampened by the pieces of hamburger bread and salad stuck between Eddie's teeth that he still hasn't washed down with his soda.

”I'm sorry,” he says, looking anything but, ”It's just... this is the best fucking burger I've had in my life!” He says the last part loud enough to earn himself a smile from the waitress.

Steve has to admit that Eddie has a point. His own burger and fries really are some of the best he's had as well.

Eddie launches into a speech about burgers being the ultimate meal. Steve keeps up with the parts about it containing all the necessary components for an ultimate meal and how the burger is its own best mode of transportation to the mouth, but Eddie loses him slightly when he starts bringing up the cultural significance of fries.

Steve lets him keep going and just enjoys listening to Eddie's voice as he moves on from burgers to an ever-expanding tree of different topics. Eddie's voice is pleasant, fast-paced, and energetic. Listening to him talk always keeps Steve on his toes, never knowing quite which direction the conversation is gonna take next. Steve contributes where he can and when he speaks, Eddie always listens intently in a way that Steve isn't exactly used to from anyone else.

It's easy to be drawn into Eddie's orbit as he spins his tales. Steve gets a little too lost in listening to the other man and it's only on an accidental glance down at his watch that Steve realizes that they're almost late for the movies.

They rush to finish their drinks and Steve – true to his word – leaves an almost embarrassingly big tip for the waitress and the cook, and thanks them so much for the meal and the service.

”Come on, big guy, before they start thinking you'll propose,” Eddie tells him and drags him towards the door.

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

Steve is not the only Hawkins resident who picked the cinema as a good spot for a date and when he and Eddie show up, there's already a line of people waiting to buy tickets for the next screenings. Couples, all displaying various degrees of public affection as they wait for the line to crawl forward. He hears the people behind him mumble in hushed voices to each other but Steve is too busy trying to assess how long it might take for them to reach the front of the line to bother eavesdropping.

Eddie has been standing next to him, close enough that the toe of his sneaker bumps against Steve's, but suddenly he steps away. Steve's side feels cold without him there and Steve briefly entertains the idea of putting his arm around Eddie's shoulders to pull him close - the same way the man in front of them has his arm resting casually around the woman leaning against his side – but Eddie is out of reach and has started fidgeting more so than usual, moving like a bouncing ball of nervous energy next to him.

”Everything okay?” Steve turns to ask him, and Eddie gives him a smile that looks a little strained.

”Yeah, man, sure! I just... I really need to take a piss. You mind getting the tickets while I...” he gestures towards the bathrooms, bouncing a little on his feet. ”I'll pay you for the ticket later!”

”Don't worry about it!” Steve assures him. ”And go! I'm not sitting next to you if you wet yourself!”

”Alright. Thanks, man!” Eddie looks around at the other people in line before giving Steve a relieved smile. He's already moving away when Steve remembers something.

”Hey Eddie!” he calls ”Which movie do you want to see?”

Eddie turns and gives him a cheeky grin.

”Surprise me! I'm cool with whatever as long as I'm getting popcorn!”

Steve gives him a thumbs up to show he's got it and watches Eddie disappear around the corners to the bathrooms.

The line slowly inches forward until finally, it's Steve's turn to pay for two tickets and a bucket of popcorn. He's gone with the horror movie option, just like he usually does on dates. The scary movies are a nice excuse to snuggle a bit closer under the pretense of offering comfort. He's not sure how much comforting Eddie will need or want from him, but Steve is pretty sure that Eddie still prefers a horror movie over the romantic comedy or the war documentary that are their other options for the evening.

It's only when they're both seated in the dark of the mostly empty movie theater, and Eddie turns towards him with an absolutely delighted shit-eating grin, as the singing starts, that Steve realizes that, despite the name, maybe Little Shop of Horrors isn't actually a horror movie after all.

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

Steve isn't sure how he feels about the musical. It's entertaining, he supposes, but it's not the best he's seen. He's also a little distracted by the Eddie next to him, who seems to be thoroughly enjoying the movie.

At some point, Eddie reaches over to tap the hand Steve's got resting on the armrest between them. It's probably just to get Steve's attention, but Steve doesn't think too closely about it, because the giant flower alien thing is currently devouring someone on the big screen, so he just does what he would normally do on a date and flips his hand over to lace their fingers together.

He realizes his mistake when he feels Eddie tense next to him.

”Shit, sorry!” he whispers and quickly drops Eddie's hand. Before he can pull away, however, Eddie grabs his hand and tugs it back to the armrest.

”We're on a date,” he says with a shrug and a smile that settles deep in Steve's chest before he laces their fingers back together. Eddie's hand is warm and his fingers a little buttery from the popcorn. Like the rest of Eddie, his hand never stays quite still, and soon the tips of his fingers are drumming different patterns against Steve's knuckles in time with the music of the movie.

Steve is having even more trouble focusing on the plot of the movie after that, because Eddie is sitting closer to him now, leaning in like he's about to turn and whisper something to Steve any second. Also, this close, Steve notices the way he smells faintly of smoke and popcorn, and the way his leather jacket creaks every time he shifts in his seat.

Steve finds himself glancing over at Eddie more often than what is perhaps necessary like he's afraid he'll miss something important if he doesn't check on him every few seconds.

Steve has never been much for poems but, as he watches Eddie smiling up at the big screen, he finds himself thinking that someone should write one about how the light from the movie dances across his face and how beautifully it outlines his silhouette.

It's perhaps not as much of a startling thought as it should have been, realizing that he finds Eddie beautiful. Just a quiet oh in his brain as the confusing feelings from the last year suddenly slot into place. He likes Eddie. Not just as his friend, but properly likes him.

It's a swindling thought, but somehow it makes sense.

Steve looks down at their hands, where Eddie's thumb is slowly stroking along the side of Steve's index finger. Steve wonders if he even realizes he's doing it. Wonders, a little stupidly, if Eddie finds him beautiful too.

”What?” Eddie asks suddenly, clearly having noticed Steve staring.

”Nothing,” Steve rushes to whisper back.

”Okay,” Eddie replies with a soft smile and begins to turn his attention back to the movie. Steve suddenly regrets the lie.

He's always been more of a doer than a thinker. It often takes him a little longer to figure things out, but when he eventually reaches a conclusion, he acts on it. And right now, the conclusion is that he's fallen in love with yet another one of his best friends, and he wants him to know.

He has to give it to himself that, at least, a movie theater is a better setting for this than sitting on a bathroom floor with puke and blood on his face.

”No wait,” he says hurriedly and Eddie looks back at him again, a look of confused curiosity on his face.

Steve has a split second to decide whether to go with confession or flirting and lets his gut feeling make the decision for him.

He lifts his free hand and reaches for Eddie's face.

”You've got a little something...” he whispers and carefully cups Eddie's cheek so he can swipe a thumb over the side of his mouth, removing an invisible piece of popcorn before pulling the hand back to suck the salt from his thumb. All this while keeping eye contact.

Eddie just blinks at him and, for once, seems to be rendered speechless. Steve waits for a reaction for what feels like forever.

”Thank you,” Eddie eventually whispers, face impossible to read, before he turns back to watch the screen. His fingers have stopped moving and he doesn't look back at Steve again for the rest of the movie.

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

Steve is worried he might have overstepped, that Eddie's teasing and flirting might not have been based on any sort of interest in Steve, after all. That Eddie likes boys, just not Steve.

Steve knows Eddie likes to rile people up, and maybe that had been all it was. Flirting as a way to rile Steve up. Well, mission accomplished!

They make it out of the cinema and Steve is trying to find the words to apologize, when Eddie suddenly stops and whirls around to face him.

”Do you want to come back to my place for beers?” he asks, his voice a little too loud, as if he's rushing to get the question out before he can change his mind.

”Uh...yeah okay,” Steve says dumbly.

”Okay. Good” Eddie spins around again and stalks off toward Steve's car.

Once he's in the passenger seat, Eddie immediately starts fiddling with the radio, complaining about Steve's choice of channel, completely ignoring the fact that he was the one who chose it on the way over. Steve doesn't bother correcting him, just takes the complaint in stride and lets Eddie flip through the channels.

Eddie makes a few more comments on the music as they drive. He doesn't seem angry or upset, and slowly the tension eases from Steve's shoulders.

It almost feels normal. Like any of the other drives they've been on. Like Steve hadn't pulled a move on Eddie in the cinema. And maybe Steve had actually just made the whole thing up. Maybe he fell asleep for a bit and dreamed up the whole thing?

Except, Eddie keeps reaching up to touch the side of his face and mouth when he thinks Steve isn't looking. Like he can still feel Steve's hand lingering against his skin.

They park outside of the trailer and Eddie tells him to wait outside while he sneaks inside to fetch the beers.

He emerges again a minute later, with a six-pack and a blanket, and gestures for Steve to follow him to the roof of the trailer.

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

They're lying side by side on the thin blanket on the roof, two empty beer bottles next to them and the infinity of the universe stretching out above.

Steve would have marveled at the beauty of the night sky but his thoughts are occupied with trying to decide whether or not he should pretend that the move in the cinema didn't happen. It seems to be the route Eddie is taking.

But Steve has just had a revelation and now that he knows how he feels about Eddie, he's not sure if he can just shove those feelings back. He needs to tell Eddie and then he'll deal with the rejection. Steve has been rejected before. He's loved and been turned down before, and while it hurt at first, those people are still two of the most important people in Steve's life. It can be the same with Eddie.

This doesn't have to ruin things, even if Eddie doesn't feel the same. But Steve realizes that he needs him to know, without a doubt, how Steve feels.

”I love you” he blurts out, interrupting Eddie asking him about his plans for tomorrow.

Eddie falls silent. So very very silent and after a few seconds tic by, Steve is about to repeat himself, when Eddie speaks.

”...is this part of the date deal?” he asks, hesitantly.

”Yes...no? What?” Steve says confused. Eddie makes a sound that's both hopeful and frustrated at the same time.

”Are you saying this because it's what you usually tell your dates at the end of the night?” he asks.

Steve frowns.

”You think I tell people I love them on the first date?”

Eddie just gives him a look. And yeah okay that is exactly what Steve is doing right now. But it's different. It's Eddie. Steve runs a hand through his hair before trying again.

”No man! I just... I like you!”

” Like ? I could have sworn I heard love a few moments ago” Eddie says, but Steve can see the smile spreading on his lips. Eddie is infuriating but he doesn't seem upset, so Steve counts that as a win at least.

”Fuck you, man! I'm trying to be romantic here,” he snorts. Eddie holds his hands up in surrender.

”Sorry. Please proceed.”

”Nah, too late. The moment's gone.” Steve lies back with a dramatic sigh to stare at the sky above. Eddie shifts next to him, rolling over on his side to watch Steve. Steve wonders if he should tell him again, feels like they're yet again slipping away from the core point of Steve loving him. Robin was so much better at this than Eddie is. At least she acknowledged Steve's feelings before turning him down.

But then he feels Eddie's fingers wrap around his, and when he speaks, his voice makes it clear that he's heard Steve's confession loud and clear.

”Too bad,” he says, ”Because I was just gonna ask if kissing is off the table on first dates too?” Steve can hear the teasing in his voice but there's something else too, a slight hesitancy that tells Steve that Eddie is serious about what he's asking.

”It's usually on,” Steve replies, feeling anticipation growing in his chest. Is this really going the way Steve is hoping? Is Eddie going to kiss him?

A moment later, the vision is obscured by dark curls and Eddie's face.

”And tonight?”

Steve replies by nodding.

”Good,” Eddie tells him before pulling Steve into a searing kiss that Steve knows he will have dreams about for years to come. Unless this is just the beginning and Eddie has more than kisses up his sleeve. Steve is nothing if not a hopeful romantic, after all.

When they pull apart, an eternity later, Eddie's lips are kiss-swollen and smiling. He cups Steve's cheek.

”Did you know? When you said yes to the date.”

Steve figures he's asking about the feelings.

”Not a clue,” he admits. That makes Eddie chuckle.

”You are a wonder, Steve Harrington,” he says fondly, before leaning in for more kisses.  

Steve thinks ‘87 is his favorite Valentine’s Day yet!

[blackandwhiteandrose]

Friday Fretting

tagged by @mostlyinthemorning and @likerealpeopledo-on-ao3

Writers, do you document your output? Do you have daily writing goals? Do you achieve them?

As someone whose neurospicy brain works in ways even I don't understand a lot of the time, I find that making specific daily goals usually only ends in major frustration for me when it doesn't happen for whatever reason.

In the past, I have not really kept track of my output or productivity in any meaningful way other than the word count at the end of a sprint. However, recently several friends decided to do a little group encouragement and one of them made a nifty spreadsheet for us to keep track of things on.

I'm gonna be honest, I forget to update it a lot. Looking at all the days I didn't write anything kind of bums me out. But then I realize maybe I wrote a sentence or two in the notes on my phone to transfer over later or something, but decided it "wasn't enough to count". But at the same time, I enjoy looking at the total as it goes up over time. It's a love-hate kind of thing.

But really, my goal in the last... I don't know... year? has been to write when I'm inspired. When I want to, not because I feel like I have to or I owe anybody anything. And I am better about that. So I guess I am, at least, achieving that goal.

tagging @hippolotamus, @stereopticons @roseapothecary, @seadeepy

[wolfsclothing6]

A Study in Flannel (1 of 2)

“Hello, Wallflower.”

“Yes, I’m talking to you. Did you think no one had noticed you in here? Everyone’s been talking about you, but everyone gets talked about, their first time in Pigtown. Everyone wants to know, who’s that handsome young man going to be, sipping that beer all by himself against the wall?”

“If you really want to hide that blush, you shouldn’t turn away–just grow a better beard, Wallflower.”

“Wallflower, everyone can tell that you’re trying to. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Look at you–we all know what you want to be. Those jeans, those boots, that…*sigh* flannel shirt. Flannel, such a tired fabric, but it means so much to all of us here, I suppose. No one wants to hear The Beatles, but everyone knows the words when it come on. We all know what you want.”

“Don’t be coy with me–you know what this place is. I know how far the reputation of my bar spreads.”

“Oh, you just now noticed that facial hair of yours? I know I suggested you grow a beard, but that flush in your cheeks is too cute to hide just yet. Shame about the color though…”

“A mirror? Right over there, Wallflower. Go take a look?”

“Not too bad, eh? That mop makes a pretty good flat top, I have to say, and you’re filling out that flannel of yours nicely. How’s that cigar taste? Heh, looks like you hadn’t even noticed it. Big package in the front of those jeans daddy, you’re filling out nice and thick, just how we like them. Still, as handsome as you are, I’m afraid you just don’t quite fit our theme tonight.”

“Didn’t you notice? Second Friday of every month is the hoedown! Got dirty fucks coming from five counties to have some fun around here. Don’t worry, we can get you all fixed up here in a jiffy–won’t take much more than a few tweaks, and you’ll be feeling right at home.”

“Don’t shake your head at me! Don’t you understand the importance of theme nights? Honestly, it’s like why keep a calendar at all, if men can just show up and be whoever they want to be. Now hold still, Wallflower–let’s rip some seams.”

A Study in Flannel (2 of 2)

*RRRIIPPP*

“There we are! Right at the seam. Let me just tug this sleeve off–we’ll have you feeling more comfortable in no time, Wallflower.”

“The tattoos? Where do you think they came from, dumbass? Nice and trashy, just how I like my rednecks.”

“You don’t wanna be a redneck? Then I guess you should have looked at the calendar! Hear that everyone? Wallflower here didn’t want to a redneck but he didn’t even check the calendar!”

*Laughter*

“Now Wallflower. No one thinks they want to be a redneck. But trust me, once you go there, you’d be surprised how few of ‘em wanna go back. Now give me that other sleeve, let’s see what we can do here…”

*RRIPPPP”

“There we are–you’re looking better already, Wallflower. Look at those new sleeves of yours, all those tattoos…You’re gonna be a real sleazy fucker, ain’t ya? Now one last thing, Wallflower…”

*Pop..PopPop..Pop*

There we are-no more buttons on that shirt–just let that dirty, hairy bubba gut of yours hang out. Got some rings in those tits Wallflower! You’re kinkier than I thought. Oh? That feel good Bubba? You like having me play with those tit rings of yours? You know I get first go with every new boy, right? So lean in here, and shove some of that cigar smoke in my maw, you nasty fuck.”

…

“Fuck Bubba, that’s a nice mouth you got. Love the feel of that beard too–and damn fucker, a mullet? Whose 80’s fantasy did you come stumbling out of? Yeah, I see you grinning at yourself in the mirror–you do like it, don’t you? Just fucking admit it.”

“Yeah–that’s what I thought, Bubba. Now get down there and blow my rod–and then I’ll be turning you over to crowd here. Don’t think you’ll get away with being a wallflower the rest of the night–I think that pretty mouth of yours can look forward to being front and center.”

[myalchod]

Howdy (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

It’s me, hi, I’m your hex buddy, it’s me! *giggles*

Loved your thoughts on Farah and Saul, align with my own perfectly!

Good news: today my questions are not cruel.

What are your favorite colors? What do you prefer: silrah as teens, few years after Aster Dell or post show’s events? Do you have favorite winter’s shenanigans?

(Hope your Friday is great💙)

Hello, my darling! 😘 My Friday was overall fairly pleasant -- I hope yours was too, and that your weekend is going well! I am, once again, excited by these new questions; I can see why people say the inbox shenanigans are some of the best bits of HEX. 🥰 So let's see about answering these ...

My favourite colours tend to be cooler and darker tones; I am The Worst (tm) at picking favourite anythings, as you may have noticed, but I like the colours you see in peacock feather eyes -- teals, blue, green (and gold does go wonderfully with them) -- but also deep wine-red.

And the rest of this is getting long so I'm gonna drop a cut lol.

Timeframe is a tough one, because each one has their own attractions! I love the promise and the possibility of Silrah as teens, with so much ahead of them and before their ideals were shattered; I love them after Aster Dell, trying to pick up the pieces and figuring out how to move on, salvaging the fragments of idealism to try to make a better world for the children whose futures they now hold and struggling with all that they dare not speak of, the ghosts and the guilt and the emotional morass; I love them after the show, whether that's Saul with only his memories or Farah returning and them having a chance to be more in a way I feel they never could before or any one of another hundred permutations. There are so, so many options, and there's a part of me that desperately wants to tug on every thread and chase every possible universe and see what could happen. (I realise this is almost certainly unhelpful, my dearest HEXer, and for that I am deeply sorry.)

As to the last: I adore winter as a season. I know there are a lot of people who don't like the cold and the dark, but honestly, the cold in particular is something I love. I turn into a puddle once it gets warm, and my ideal storage conditions top out at about 15C, so the weather cooling off means I'm in my element. I love getting to wear warmer clothes, snuggling into blankets or putting on the fireplace if it's particularly chilly, nursing a cup of something warm (I'm a tea drinker first and foremost, but a mug of cocoa is nice too). I lived most of my life somewhere without snow, and there's a part of me that turns into a small child when I get it nowadays -- especially if it's the soft fluffy kind where you can catch snowflakes on your palms and look at the shapes. I love the way the world looks blanketed in white, all of the rough edges softened, and the way things sparkle when the light hits them on a frosty morning. I love walking outside in winter, the crispness of air almost freezing and seeing your breath make clouds and the crunch of fresh snow being tamped down under your boots. (I realise there are absolutely places where it's much more bitterly cold, or the weight of snow and ice can damage everything and become oppressive, and that if I lived there it might change my tune, but right now I consider myself lucky enough to be able to enjoy it without worry.) Winter isn't my holiday season, primarily, and so I don't have the association so many do, but the holiday I do celebrate then involves candles, and one thing I've always loved in association with the darkening of the year is how illumination -- whatever the form -- plays a part in the winter season, and the imagery of lights in the darkness. It's a small thing, but it also has stuck with me my entire life and as a thread through many things and states of mind, and I think that's one of those things I'll always associate with winter, beyond just the cold itself.

Anyway! That's a wall of text for sure, and so I'm pretty sure I owe you a cookie in recompense for reading it all! 🍪 I'm excited to see whatever you do with all of this information, though I can safely say right now that I have no idea -- but I'm sure it'll be wonderful. 💙

[cyarskj1899]

He isn’t better than Tory himself so who makes him think that he can say anything about this

Kodak if you don't shut yo throwback Flava Flav Flavor of Love looking ahhs up!

One thing ive noticed is yall criminals stick together. You would still be locked down if that other criminal hadn't pardoned you!

Funky ahhs..😡

Forget the fact that Tory showed us numerous times that he’s an angry little man outside of this whole Meg situation… 😒

When it comes to men and the bar…he is literally below the bare minimum of the bare minimum bar. The type of men defending Tory is the type of men women should run from.

Kodak Black Takes Aim at Jay-Z & Megan Thee Stallion Over Tory Lanez Shooting Conviction [Video]

Walker

December 28, 2022 10:43 AM PST

Kodak Black has spoken out against Tory Lanez’s guilty verdict in his felony assault case involving Megan Thee Stallion, taking aim at JAY-Z and the Houston Hottie in the process.

via: Rap-Up

The “Super Gremlin” rapper went live on Instagram on Christmas Eve and shared his support for Tory, who was convicted on all three charges for shooting Megan Thee Stallion.“This shit ain’t right, homie. For real, bro,” said Kodak, who collaborated with Tory on “F**k With You.” “And Tory Lanez a good ni**a, bro.”

“This shit fu**ing with my Christmas Eve ’cause everybody shit ain’t for me to speak on,” he continued. “But it’s like ni**as ain’t finna talk about that. Ni**as finna act like this shit ain’t even happen. I don’t know. I wasn’t in the courtroom. But at the same time, if it is some fu**ed up shit going on, ni**as ain’t gonna wanna say nothing because of this whole politics bullshit.”

Kodak Black says Tory Lanez verdict isn’t right and it’s messed up. pic.twitter.com/0GFlkACRww

— Daily Loud (@DailyLoud) December 28, 2022

He then alluded to the conspiracy theories that JAY-Z, whose company Roc Nation manages Megan, somehow influenced the verdict. “And then all of this JAY-Z shit, homie. But bro, I don’t like that shit nan bit.”“Now, I’m a God-fearing ni**a,” Kodak added. “If my brudda actually did that shit, homie, God gon’ see it through to where he get the justifiable punishment he feel like he deserve for that.”Kodak went on to claim that he is against men who abuse women before questioning Megan’s credibility and the evidence presented in court.“They done caught this female in a few lies and shit,” he said. “And then, how the f**k you find a ni**a guilty for shooting a bitch, when ain’t no evidence behind it? Y’all talking ’bout, bitch had gun residue on fam and another person. And ain’t nobody came through and say, ‘Oh yeah, he did that shit.’ That shit don’t sit well with me.”Following a trial that lasted nearly two weeks, a Los Angeles jury convicted Tory on all three charges against him: assault with a semiautomatic handgun, carrying a loaded, unregistered firearm in a vehicle, and discharging a firearm with gross negligence. He faces up to 22 years in prison and deportation when he is sentenced on Jan. 27.While Kodak was sympathetic towards Tory, Adele shared her support for Megan after the guilty verdict was announced.

“Well today, tonight, I would like to wish Meg Thee Stallion a very, very merry, merry Christmas!” she said during her Las Vegas show on Friday. “Girl, get your peace. Do whatever you want now, baby! I love ya!”

Sent from my iPhone

[markie-baby]

𝕸𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝕸𝖞 𝕱𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖐🌹𝖕𝖙.1

"If you keep up with me, I'll keep coming back. If you do it too good, I'm gonna get attached. 'Cause it feels like heaven when it hurts so bad Baby, put it on me I like it just like that..."

Nasty - Tinashe

♡ Pairing: gangboss!lover!bm x black!fem!reader ♡ Genre: fluff/smut/thriller/multilingual ♡ Word Count: 14959 ♡ Content Warnings: language, gang-related violence, highly explicit sex scenes, drug use, mentions of drugs, appearance and handling of guns, poisioning ♡ Summary: You’re an introverted sexless woman, content with the quiet rhythm of your life as a remote social media manager, your world small and controlled, centered around your Koreatown apartment. But one Friday night, your vibrant best friend Sasha drags you out of your cocoon and into the pulsating heart of a local club. Among the flashing lights and throbbing music, your eyes lock with Matthew Kim, the notorious luxury club owner whose reputation as a ruthless crime boss precedes him.

♡ NSFW Warnings: overstim, fingering, sweat, tipsy sex

~

"𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕡𝕦𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕟 𝕕𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕡 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗…𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦."

The snug Koreatown apartment envelops you in a lavender-scented calm, a peaceful escape from the lively city outside. Vanilla candles softly flicker, casting a gentle glow over the diverse decor. Your face is lit by artificial light as you skillfully handle hashtags and engagement metrics, crafting online personas with expertise. You’ve been on the computer way past your working hours, but there was something tranquil about the quiet of your apartment, the light sounds of your fingers tapping the keyboard, that often kept you from venturing outside.

Tranquil that is, until you're rudely interrupted by the abrupt swing of your apartment door, in bursts Sasha Rivera, your roommate, best friend, and complete opposite, a whirlwind of energy and disorder.

"Mi amor, aqui estoy!" she exclaims in her alluring Spanish lilt, barely stopping for a breath.

Sasha's presence filled the room, her larger-than-life personality electrifying the air around her. She was a walking embodiment of the vibrant Koreatown nightlife, her curly brown hair as wild and untamed as her spirit.

"I've got a move for tonight!" Sasha purred, tilting her head to the side, her doe-like eyes rimmed with dark liner. "What do you say a little dancing?"

The mischievous glint in Sasha's eyes was matched only by the playful quirk of her lips as she awaited your response. She had a way of making even the most mundane activities feel like an adventure, and tonight was no exception.

As you considered her proposition, a rush of conflicting emotions flooded your senses. On one hand, stepping out of your comfort zone and embracing the heartbeat of Koreatown's nightlife was undeniably tempting. On the other, the thought of navigating the crowds, the loud music, and the unfamiliar faces made your heart race with apprehension.

Sasha seemed to sense your hesitation and took a step closer, her hand reaching out to gently grasp yours. "Trust me, my little hermit," she murmured, her voice low. "I promise you won't regret it."

"I don't know, Sash," you waver, your fingertips hesitating above the keyboard as you concocted a lie. "I'm swamped with work right now."

"Tonight's different, " Sasha's tone was low, laced with something that bordered on desperation, her fingernails drumming on the back of your chair. "And it's eight o’clock on a Friday, you're just giving yourself busy work at this point."

You sighed heavily. She was annoying but also right.

"Well, tonight’s the anniversary of Eclipse opening, and some important people showing up for the bash."

Your attention is immediately drawn, your instincts tingling when Sasha mentions the exclusive Korean club where she works as a bottle girl.

"Important like... influencer important?"

Sasha's eyes gleam mischievously. "Even better." She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Think LA's elite, movers and shakers, and the club owner is also gonna be there."

You shut down your computer, intrigued by the mystery that shrouded the owner of the club, someone you had only heard whispers about. Rising from your seat, you link arms with Sasha, a sense of curiosity bubbling within you.

"Alright, you've caught my attention. Lead the way," you say, with the desire to see your curiosity through.

Excitement bubbles in your stomach as Sasha ushers you into her bedroom. The room is a study in contrasts: soft, draping purple curtains frame a floor-to-ceiling window that offers a breathtaking view of the cityscape, while the brown sugar-scented air mingles with the heady scent of jasmine from a nearby vase. A queen-sized bed, piled high with plush purple pillows, beckons invitingly, its silky comforter spilling onto the floor like a cascade of spilled wine.

"Alright, chica," Sasha turns to you, her hands on her hips, appraising your cozy attire. "We've got our work cut out for us." She opens the closet doors to reveal a treasure trove of daring silhouettes, all squealing for attention.

"You are definitely wearing these," Sasha declares, handing you a pair of strappy platform stilettos in a dangerous shade of sangria. "These will make your legs go on for days." You eye the shoes warily, but Sasha's commanding gaze brooks no argument. With a deep breath, you slip them on, your toes curling as you adjust to the unaccustomed height.

Next, Sasha selects a form-fitting little black dress that skims the curves you usually keep hidden beneath oversized hoodies and baggy bottoms. The fabric clings to your body like a second skin, accentuating your hourglass figure and hinting at the delights beneath.

"You're a goddess, my little hermit," Sasha breathes, admiring her handiwork.

You stand in front of the full-length mirror, transfixed by the seductive stranger staring back at you. Your long braids fell perfectly at your sides, expertly styled by Sasha's skilled hands. The glistening peach color of your lip gloss made your lips into an alluring sight. As you take in your reflection, you can feel a surge of newfound confidence coursing through you; like an electric current, crackling and sizzling with excitement. You can't help but smile as you run a hand over the sleek fabric of your outfit, feeling every curve and contour accentuated by the form-fitting dress. You feel like a completely different person, and it's dangerously exhilarating.

~

Your heart quickens its pace as you both emerge from the Uber, enveloped in the sultry, seductive glow of Koreatown's neon lights. The atmosphere crackles with vitality, the bass pulsating through the streets and resonating deep within you. Entwining your fingers with Sasha's, a smile tugs at your lips when she gives your hand an enthusiastic squeeze, her anticipation radiating off her.

"I can't believe I finally got you to come out here," she says with a hidden squeal in her voice. “I’m so proud of my little hermit.” Her French tips pinched your cheeks.

“Not without much convincing,” I scoffed. “And I will leave if things get too crazy.”

“Ugh, fine.” She released your face from her grasp. “ Hopefully, that won’t happen and you’ll never want to leave.”

As you make your way to the velvet rope, you can't help but notice the lingering glances from those around you, drawn to Sasha's magnetic presence like moths to a flame. She's in her element here, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music, her eyes alive with anticipation.

The bouncer, a hulking mass of muscle in a sharp suit, gives Sasha a nod of recognition. "Sash," his voice is a deep rumble that seems to vibrate through the sidewalk. "Who's your pretty friend tonight?" His eyes studied your form closely, too much so.

"This is my bestie," she pulled you closer, guiding you both past the line and into the club. “So keep focused on your job and keep us safe.”

The moment you step inside, the world seems to melt away. The music envelops you like a lover's embrace, the strobe lights illuminating the room in a kaleidoscope of sensual hues. Bodies writhe on the dance floor, their movements liquid and hypnotic. The air is heavy with the scent of perfume, and hookah smoke, and you can't help but feel a thrill of anticipation course through your veins.

"Welcome to Eclipse!" Sasha exclaims, her voice brimming with excitement.

You let her lead you through the sea of bodies, her grip on your hand the only anchor in a sea of chaos.

"Tell me more about this Matthew guy," you say, leaning in close to be heard over the music. "He's the owner, right?"

Sasha's eyes darken, her excitement replaced by a brief flicker of apprehension. “Yeah," she says, her voice laced with equal parts intrigue and caution. "That’s not the only thing they say he is though."

Your curiosity piqued.

"Matthew Kim is not just a club owner," Sasha begins, her voice lowering as if sharing a forbidden secret. "Apparently, he's a crime boss."

Your eyes widen at the revelation, the thrill of danger mingling with the heady atmosphere of the club.

"Not only that, but the leader of The Red Lotus," Sasha continues, her tone tinged with a mix of admiration and wariness. "The Red Lotus has its fingers in everything, from drugs to gambling, and Eclipse is just the tip of the iceberg."

“So why doesn’t anyone rat on him?” You raise a brow. “Ya’ know, catch him in the act?”

Sasha scoffs. “Well it’s not that easy I’m sure. Also, The Lotus protects the K-Town community and its businesses from rival gangs like the...Black Snakes-think they're called..? They may do some shady shit, but they keep the old folks safe.”

“Yeah, by muscling in on them I bet.”

“Hey!” Her defensive tone takes you by surprise. “My boss Jiwoo is allegedly mixed in with his shit too; she hires the bottle girls, but, she's pretty fucking cool. Besides, I'm sure they’re not all bad.”

Her loyalty to her boss piqued your interest. You let the topic drop, not wanting to sour the mood.

As the night progresses, your surroundings blur together in a swirl of flashing lights and pounding beats. Sasha seems to be a regular here, as she effortlessly navigates the crowded dance floor, guiding you expertly through the throng of bodies. Hips grinding, hands in the air, you succumb to the infectious energy of the club, all your inhibitions melting away like sugar on your tongue.

As you sought a moment of respite, the cool touch of the metal bar against your back offered a fleeting sense of grounding amidst the pulsing chaos. Across the dance floor, in the VIP section, a man's gaze locked onto yours with unwavering intensity. Standing tall and exuding an air of authority that seemed to envelop the space around him, he commanded attention effortlessly.

His features were like finely chiseled marble, sculpted by an expert hand. A sharp jawline cut through the dimly lit club, accentuating his polished masculinity. Black hair, meticulously styled, and sleeked back. A few strands of hair dangled freely over his forehead, adding to the mystery.

Beside him sat a slender woman, in a dark sapphire dress that contrasted her pale complexion, the white mink draped around her shoulders adding a touch of opulence to her ensemble. Her elegant presence was a striking contrast to his imposing figure. With dark waves cascading down her back and tailored attire enhancing her sophisticated aura, she exuded poise and intelligence. Her perceptive gaze seemed to assess every detail with keen precision.

Next to her was another woman, petite in comparison. Her blonde, short hair styled in a spiked updo. A studded black leather jacket hung off her shoulders and her heeled boots shimmered against her exposed legs, she projected an image of unyielding resolve and unwavering loyalty.

Completing the quartet was another man. His calm demeanor and contemplative nature stood out amidst the vibrant energy of the club. Dressed in classic attire that hinted at quiet dignity, he exuded an air of understated confidence that added depth to their group dynamic.

As your eyes met those of the enigmatic man across the room, his penetrating gaze ignited a primal fire within you, sending a surge of desire coursing through the skin between your thighs. Suddenly, all you cared about was knowing who he was.

"Hola!" Sasha appears at your side, startling you out of your reverie. "Are you deaf, chica? Let’s go get some dranks!"

Reluctantly, you tear your gaze away from the enigmatic stranger, allowing Sasha to lead you to the bar. As she orders a round of shots for both of you, you can't help but feel a sense of disappointment at leaving the eyes of enigmatic man behind.

"Girl, you good?" Sasha asks, handing you a shot glass. "I was tryna tell you something, but you were in a daze."

"I don't know," you reply, downing the shot in one gulp. "I saw this guy in the VIP section and he just…fuck."

Sasha catches your eye and arches a knowing eyebrow as she notices the object of your conversation.

"Goddamn, fuck indeed," she says appreciatively. "I don’t know who he is, but let's be real. He's probably some rich jerk who thinks he can have any girl he wants in here."

“Yeah, you probably right.”

“That is weird though,” she sucks her teeth after downing her shot.

“What?”

“You see that woman with the leather jacket?” She raises her pink nail in the direction. “That’s Jiwoo. That’s my boss.”

Your eyes widen in surprise as you return your gaze to the VIP section. There she was, looking comfortable and natural amidst the opulence of the upper crust.

"That's Jiwoo, your boss?" You ask, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

“Yeah,” Sasha shrugs, a glint of admiration in her eyes. “Don't know what she’s doing there though. I kinda recognize the chica in the blue dress. I see her here from time to time. I see the other shorter guy more often when Jiwoo’s here. I think his name is Joseph—or something. But that guy that caught your eye… I’m not entirely sure.”

You watched as Jiwoo laughed at something the other woman said, throwing her head back in genuine amusement. Her body language around Matthew was relaxed, comfortable and from what you could see, respectful. They had an easy rhythm amongst them. Jiwoo leans in close to the man you'd been ogling earlier. A chill runs down your chest as you remember his intense gaze.

"Hmm," she says with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Let's crash their little party."

Momentarily taken aback, you stare at her, your heart pounding in your chest. "A-Are you serious?"

Sasha merely raises a perfectly arched brow at you. She reaches for another shot, downing it in one swift motion before she shoots you a daring look. "Why not? The worst that can happen is they'll ask us to leave them alone."

“Or...You could get your ass fired.” You raise a brow.

“Impossible,” She shrugged confidently. “I’m Jiwoo’s favorite.”

Throwing caution to the wind, deciding to go along with Sasha's audacious plan, you down another shot for good measure before following her lead towards the cordoned-off area where the handsome stranger and his companions resided.

The VIP section of Eclipse was even more decadent up close. The plush velvet couches were in stark contrast to the cold metal bar stools where the regular patrons sat. Gold accents glitter under the flashing neon lights, adding a touch of opulence that was absent in the rest of the club. Large, ornate bottles of champagne and liquor adorned the tables, evidence of the group's extravagant taste.

As you ventured closer to the enigmatic man, his allure seemed to deepen, casting an even more intoxicating spell upon you. His dark eyes exuded a lethal charm that ensnared your gaze, causing your heart to thunder recklessly in your chest. Amidst this magnetic pull, you couldn't ignore the subtle glances from the other members of his crew, their watchful eyes adding an undercurrent of tension to the already-charged atmosphere.

Sasha gave you a little nudge, her wide grin infectious as she boldly approached. "Jiwoo," she bowed cheerfully, catching the attention of everyone in the VIP section. “Good Evening.”

Jiwoo’s fierce gaze softened at her approach, a small smile playing on her lips. “Sasha, my number one bottle girl,” she acknowledged, her gaze flicking to you with slight curiosity. "Who is this?"

"This is Y/N," Sasha introduced you casually as if crashing into a VIP section was a daily occurrence. "Y/N, this is Jiwoo, my boss."

You offered a shy smile, bowing slightly in acknowledgment, "Nice to meet you, Jiwoo." Your voice felt small in the grandeur of the VIP section.

“Nice to meet you,” Jiwoo said, her gaze appraising as she took in your appearance. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards in a subtle sign of approval.

"Good evening, Sasha." Jiwoo was cut off by a smooth, baritone voice made you turn your attention toward the man whose gaze had entangled you earlier. His eyes flickered over to you, carrying a spark of curiosity. "And who might this stunning lady be?"

Sasha nudged you slightly, urging you to respond. Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you mustered up every ounce of courage within you and met his gaze confidently.

"I'm Y/N," you introduced yourself smoothly, extending your hand out for a shake. He rose from his seat, towering over your body. The height difference almost made you gulp.

"Y/N," he echoed softly. There was something indescribable about the way he said your name — like you were the only person in a sea of people — that made your heart skip a beat.

"This is Matthew,” Jiwoo introduced, her gaze moving between the two of you with a spark of interest. "He's the owner of Eclipse."

He extended his hand, his grip firm yet gentle. His touch sent an electric jolt through you, heat spreading up your arm. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, clearly picking up on your reaction. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

You couldn't believe it. The man who had been haunting your thoughts ever since you laid eyes on him was none other than the infamous Matthew Kim. The leader of the Red Lotus Syndicate, the most powerful and feared organization in Los Angeles. You felt a sense of fear and excitement wash over you as he held your hand in his, his gaze never leaving yours. You could feel the intensity of his stare as if he was trying to undress your very thoughts.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too," you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“생각도 하지마,” The woman in the blue dress raised her voice in Matthew’s direction.

Your heart pounded furiously in your chest as you pulled your hand back from Matthew's grasp, heat creeping up your neck. You didn’t speak Korean but knew enough to tell that the woman's words were a clear warning, yet there was something about the way Matthew looked at you that told you he wasn't quite ready to heed it.

"So-min," he said, his tone firm yet undeniably smooth. His gaze didn't waiver from yours, even as he addressed So-min. “진정해. 그냥 친구가 되고 싶은 것 뿐 나쁜 의도는 없어.”

Suddenly, a ripple of alarm passed through the heated atmosphere as Joseph shot up from his seat, his eyes locked onto a group on the dance floor. He muttered something under his breath, his face grim as he approached them. Matthew glanced in the direction Joseph had gone before he looked back at you. He nodded at So-min and Jiwoo, a silent cue that had them also leaving their seats.

"I apologize for the interruption, ladies," Matthew said, standing to his full height. “Do you mind keeping these seats warm for me? I just had an old friend walk in.”

His question hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation wrapped up in one. His gaze never left yours, his dark eyes glittering with unspoken promise and danger. You couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through your veins at his words, making the hairs on your skin stand at attention.

Surprise flickered across Sasha's face but she quickly recovered, grinning broadly as she slid onto the recently vacated couch. "Oh don't worry about it," she said in a voice dripped with confidence, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We'll be sure to take good care of the section until you come back."

Matthew chuckled lowly, his gaze flickering to Sasha's before returning to you. "I'm counting on it," he said, his voice carrying a hint of challenging amusement.

With that, Matthew turned and followed after Joseph and the others. The tension that had hung heavy in the section dissipated slowly as they disappeared into the crowd, leaving you and Sasha alone.

"Well shit," Sasha said with a low whistle, "things just got a whole lot more interesting, didn't they?"

"You can definitely say that," you ask, sinking into the plush couch, trying to calm your pounding heart. "I can't believe that's...Matthew."

"I don't think he could believe what he was seeing either," She wiggled her brows and leaned forward, a smirk playing on her lips. "I think he likes what he saw, no?"

A flush crept up your neck and you tried to brush off her teasing with a casual punch to her shoulder. "He's just the owner of the club. I'm sure it's part of his job to be charming."

"He's just the club owner who happens to be one of the most powerful men in all of LA," Sasha said dryly, rolling her eyes. "And who was giving you bedroom eyes nonstop."

"I thought you said he was just some rich guy who thinks he could have anyone he wants?"

"That was before I knew it was Matthew," she raised a brow. "And apparently, girls throw themselves at him all the time, but I haven't heard of him actually dating anyone. Kinda reminds me of a certain girl I know…"

"...really?" You were in disbelief.

"Yeah, probably because of the obvious rumors," she shrugged. "Or because -and you didn't hear this from me..."

You leaned in closer.

"He has a huge dick." She choked back her laugh. "Like huge huge. You think you can handle that, sis?"

You choked on your saliva as the thought raced across your mind.

You couldn't ignore the thrill that coursed through you at her words; the charming, mysterious, and well-endowed Matthew Kim, a single man..? You knew better than to let your heart get ahead of your head. Matthew Kim was a man shrouded in danger and mystery, but to think he found you interesting, it made a chill run up your thighs.

"I'm just going to enjoy the view and the free drinks," you shook your head. "That's enough excitement for one night."

"Fine," Sasha relented, raising a glass. "To enjoying the view and the company of good friends."

In the background, the DJ cranked up the volume, and the beat of a new song pulsated through the club, drowning out any further conversation. The crowd roared with renewed energy, and the dance floor swelled as couples and groups alike surged toward the center of the club.

"Come on!" Sasha grabbed your hand, her eyes alight with excitement. "Let's rejoin the party!"

You hesitated for a moment, still reeling from the bizarre turn of events. But you reminded yourself that you were here to step out of your comfort zone, to experience something new. With a deep breath, you let Sasha drag you onto the dance floor, surrendering to the intoxicating rhythm of the music and the pulsing energy of the club.

The hours passed in a blur of blur sensations: the intoxicating scent of smoke, and perfume; the strobing lights, flashing like gunfire in a neon warzone; the press of bodies, hot and sweaty against yours, as you and Sasha danced with abandon to the throbbing bass. After several songs, you and Sasha retreated to the bar, parched and panting, to catch your breath. You downed a glass of water, the cool liquid quenching your parched throat.

"So, what do you think so far?" Sasha shouted over the music, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

You grinned, feeling more alive than you had in years. "It's...intense," you yelled back, "but I'm having a great time."

"Good! Told you you wouldn’t regret it," Sasha said, leaning in close to your ear, "Safe us a spot at the bar, I need to use the restroom."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, and watched as she weaved her way through the crowd, her body moving fluidly through the sea of ​​bodies.

As you waited, you people-watched, observing the varied crowd that filled the club: the twenty and thirty-somethings, out for a night of carefree fun; the suited businessmen, loosening their ties and letting off steam; and the couples, varying in age and appearance, who danced together as if they were the only ones there.

Suddenly, a hand captured you out of your thoughts and slid down your lower back; you spun around, expecting it to be Sasha. Instead, it was Matthew Kim himself.

The silk fabric of his button-up hugged his muscular frame snugly, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his fully tattooed forearms. His piercing eyes locked onto yours, a glint of intrigue igniting within them as they bore into your own.

"I hope I didn’t scare you," he said, his voice low and smooth. He moved closer as he spoke, the heady scent of his cologne enveloping you.

"Not at all..." You stuttered, your heart pounding against your ribs. His proximity was disarming; it felt as though all the noise and chaos of the club were suddenly muted.

"I wanted to apologize for leaving so abruptly," he continued, "but... business called."

He inclined his head, his eyes flickering to the dance floor before returning to your own. "May I have a dance?"

He extended his large hand, an unspoken invitation in his gaze. You hesitated for a moment, thoughts of the precarious situation you were in flashing through your mind. But, bolstered by the alcohol and the pounding music, you pushed your reservations aside and nodded...

“Yes, I'd love to.”

With a wave of anticipation and trepidation, you placed your hand in his. His grip was firm but not constricting, the heat of his skin searing into your own. Without another word, he guided you onto the dance floor, expertly maneuvering you through the throng of bodies. The press of his body against yours was intoxicating, his every move in sync with the pounding music.

“You’re incredibly gorgeous,” he said, his breath warm against your ear.

“Thank you,” you blushed, breaking eye contact. “You're quite handsome yourself. I would have never thought that you knew how to dance.”

He chuckled lowly, his hand on your waist sliding lower, pulling you even closer. “There are many things you don’t know about me.”

"I may know more than you think," you teased, unable to resist the urge to flirt with him. You could feel the tension between you mounting, the electricity crackling in the air.

His eyes flashed with intrigue. "Is that so?" he said, his voice a low rumble. "What else do you know about me then?"

As the song changed, the beat picking up, he pulled you closer, his body flush against yours. You swallowed thickly, your throat suddenly dry.

"Well," you cleared your throat, "I know that you own this club, and that you're... notoriously dangerous."

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "That's a good start," he murmured, his hand drifting lower, resting on your hip. "You don't seem to scared of me, though."

You couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through your veins at his words, making the hairs on your skin stand at attention. "I'm not," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I guess I'm just brave enough to take a risk."

His gaze darkened at your words, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "I like that," he said, sending shivers down your spine. "Risk is something I've learned to appreciate."

The intensity in his voice was unmistakable, and you shivered, goosebumps erupting on your arms. This man was dangerous, you knew this, and yet, in this moment, you couldn’t care less.

"I find it intriguing," he said, his tone filled with gentle teasing, "that you're so nervous around me when you were dancing so freely out there. You seemed so fearless."

“Who said I was nervous?” you hesitated.

Matthew threw his head back and laughed, and in that moment, he seemed more human, more approachable. “Stubborn, I like that,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But a horrible liar."

The song ended and melded into another, the beat slowing down, and the strobing lights softened, casting the room in a hazy, intimate glow. Matthew's grip on your waist tightened, guiding you in a slow, sensual dance.

"I'm not lying," you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just...surprised."

"Surprised?" he echoed, his lips curling into a smirk. "Why is that?"

You swallowed thickly. "I guess I didn't expect you to get...this close," you confessed, your cheeks burning hot.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his gaze flickering to your lips. "Well, I must admit, I didn't expect you to be so...alluring."

You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, his words sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. "Alluring?" you echoed, your voice barely audible over the music.

Matthew chuckled lowly, his breath warm against your ear. "Yes," he said, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "I couldn't take my eyes off you tonight."

You swallowed thickly, heat rising in your cheeks. "I noticed," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The tension between you was palpable, the electricity crackling in the air. He leaned in closer, his plump lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, "I want to get to know you better."

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your hips trembling as he gripped them.

“I-”

Your confession was halted by the appearance of one of Matthew's bodyguards, a burly man with a granite-like face. He approached Matthew and whispered something inaudible into his ear. At his words, the subtle amusement faded from Matthew's eyes, replaced by a hard glint that you hadn't seen before. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the smooth skin.

"Seems I need to leave again," he said, his voice a dark timbre that seemed to echo the abrupt change in his demeanor. "Let me take you back to the bar and have the bartender get you something."

"No, it's fine," you interjected, putting a hand on his arm, and feeling the taut muscle underneath. "I'm sure you have important things to attend to."

He turned to you, and the intensity in his gaze softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cut this short." His grip on your hand tightened, his fingers warm and reassuring. “But I promise I’ll come find you later and make it up to you.”

With that, he pressed a kiss on the top of your hand and disappeared into the throng.. You watched him as he moved; his confident stride was both hypnotic and intimidating, a testament to the authority he wielded. He joined Jiwoo, So-min, and Joseph, their expressions grim. They spoke in hushed tones, their voices barely audible above the music. You could see the tension in their bodies, the subtle shift in their postures as they prepared for whatever awaited them.

You felt a sudden chill, a sense of foreboding washing over you. You couldn't explain why, but you had the feeling that things were about to change, that the events of tonight would have an impact on your life in ways you couldn't yet fathom.

As you stood there alone in the middle of the dancefloor, your heart pounding in your chest, you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of arousal and apprehension. Your panties feeling hot against your skin. The club swirled around you, neon lights casting a sensual glow over the gyrating mass of bodies on the dancefloor. You absentmindedly played with the lobe piercing in your ear, a habit you reverted to when nervous. The music pounded relentlessly in the background, the deep bass reverberating in your bones as you searched the sea of faces for any sign of Sasha.

Taking in the pulsating energy of Eclipse, you felt the rhythm sway your body. A familiar beat swept over you; it was Sasha's favorite song. An involuntary smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, knowing how she loved to own the dance floor whenever this tune hit the speakers. Suddenly, a hand gently clasped your elbow.

“Can I have a dance, beautiful?” A raspy voice from behind made your head turn.

You made eye contact with a man who wasn’t Matthew and was dressed more casually than most of the other party-goers. He had a wiry build, chiseled cheekbones, and a mess of untamed hair that somehow suited him. His smile didn't quite reach his cold, calculating eyes, and you got the faint whiff of cigarettes from him; like he just came from a smoke outside. The cuff of his jacket wasn't pulled down properly, giving you a peak of the black snake tattoo wrapped around his wrist.

You blinked as you turned to face the man, not immediately recognizing him. His smile was warm, but something was unsettling about his gaze that made your stomach dip with unease. "I... I'm sorry, I don't think so," you stammered, trying to pull your arm away.

But the man's grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. "Come on, darling," he purred, his voice like sandpaper against your ear. "It's just a dance."

You hesitated for a moment, glancing around the club. Most of the other patrons were lost in their own worlds, oblivious to your discomfort. Sasha had yet to come back, leaving you alone with the stranger. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you reluctantly allowed the man to lead you to the dancefloor.

You allow the man to lead you deeper into the dancefloor, reluctantly stepping into his arms as he pulls you close. His body is warm and firm against yours as he moves expertly to the beat, his hands skimming over your waist and hips in ways that make you uncomfortable. Your skin prickles with awareness under his touch, and you try not to squirm as he grinds against you. The music throbs around you, the bassline throbbing in your chest and filling your ears with its insistent rhythm.

The stranger's breath brushes against your neck, his words warm against your skin. "You smell incredible," he whispers, his breath tickling your earlobe. "What's that scent?"

You pull back slightly, trying to see his face without breaking your rhythm. Up close, his eyes linger on yours, and you feel the heat of his body through your clothes. "It's just my perfume," you mumble as sweat begins to bloom on your skin.

"Sweet yet sinful, just like you." His eyes darken, and he smirks. "I can see why he likes you."

The man's words send a shiver down your spine, and you attempt to step back, but his grip on your waist tightens. "Huh? W-What do you mean?"

“I’m sorry you had to get involved,” he smirked. “But Matthew had this coming.”

Before you could protest, you felt a sharp pain behind your back where his hand rested; like a pinch deep in your skin. Your eyes dart behind you to see a small syringe poking out your lower back.

“What the fuck?!” You pushed the stranger back and pulled the long needle out from your skin. “What the fuck do you just do?”

“Gave your boyfriend a message: he isn’t as all-powerful as he thinks. The Geondal never gets this close with beautiful women like you—you must be special.” He smirked, wiping some of the blood on his pants before he discarded the needle on the floor. “Snakes always slip through the cracks.”

And with that last warning, you stared blankly at the man's face as he disappeared into the crowd.

You felt a creeping sense of panic wash over you as realization dawned on you. This wasn't just any club; it was known for its underground activities and shady dealings. And now, here you were, alone and feeling drugged. Frantically, you looked around for Sasha, hoping she would return soon and save you from whatever was happening. But she was nowhere in sight. No one seemed to be paying any attention to you at all. Panicked, you stumble and make your way back toward the safety Matthew’s VIP booth, your haphazard navigation guided by the dimly lit sign above. Your vision was a blurry pastiche of colors and shapes as you clung to the armrests of the velvet seats, your legs threatening to buckle beneath you.

"Sasha," you tried to mouth out her name, but your voice was more of a whisper lost in the cacophony of club music and laughter.

The strident beat of the music seemed to amplify in your ears, each thud echoing like a hammer against the inside of your skull. Trying to take a few stabilizing breaths, you slid down onto the plush cushioning, where you collapsed against the soft velvet material, its coolness offering fleeting relief against your heated skin.

Suddenly, there was an intrusive hand on your shoulder, fingers digging into your flesh with coercive insistence.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the bouncer's voice boomed. “If you’re going to be this intoxicated, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Just as you were about to protest, the intrusive grip on your shoulder was pulled away. Turning your head with difficulty, you saw Matthew’s imposing figure towering over the bouncer handling you.

“Is there a problem here?” Matthew’s voice was calm but carried an undeniable authority that made the bouncer immediately step back.

“She's intoxicated, sir.” The bouncer stammered, his eyes flickering nervously under Matthew's intense gaze.

Matthew dismissed him with a nod of acknowledgment, his gaze now falling onto you. “I'll take it from here,” he stated firmly.

You looked up at Matthew from your slumped position against the booth cushions. The dim club lighting softened his sharp features, and despite your state of disorientation and fear, you couldn't help but be drawn in by his charisma.

“Y/N,” Matthew's voice pulled your focus back, his tone quieter now, almost gentle. "Can you hear me?" His words carried an undercurrent of worry that you found uncharacteristically endearing.

“Yes...” Your voice trailed off, the single syllable sounding more like a sigh. You blinked up at him, your vision swimming as you tried to focus on his face.

With a careful hand, Matthew helped you sit up straighter against the plush cushions. His touch was firm yet gentle - a stark contrast to the callous grip of the bouncer. He seemed to examine your face intently for a moment before his eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dangerous passing through them.

"Who did this?" he demanded, his tone no longer gentle but edged with authority.

You tried to focus, wracking your fuzzy brain for a coherent thought. "A... man... on the dancefloor...” you trailed off, your eyelids heavy with the potent drug coursing through your veins.

Matthew's jaw tensed, his hand clenching into a fist. The change in his demeanor was palpable, his aura practically crackling with barely restrained fury.

"What did he look like?" he ground out through gritted teeth, always keeping one hand firmly on your shoulder, as if afraid you might slip away at any moment.

Your vision swam as you tried to focus on his face, the words tumbling clumsily from your lips. "I... don't know. He had a…snake tattoo on his wrist.”

Matthew's forehead creased into a frown, his knowing dark eyes making contact with the bouncer. “Do a sweep. We’re closing an hour early tonight.”

Matthew's forehead creased into a frown, his dark eyes taking in your pale complexion and dilated pupils with a growing concern. "Alright," he murmured, the pads of his thumbs brushing against your heated cheeks as he gently cradled your face. "I got you."

With a fluid motion that belied his size, Matthew scooped you into his arms, carefully cradling you against his broad chest. The scent of his cologne - a warm blend of cedar and sandalwood - wafted around you, lulling you further into disorientation. As Matthew strode through the pulsating crowd towards the private elevator with you in his arms, he caught the eye of his right-hand man, So-min. Her eyes widened at the sight of your limp body in his arms.

"도대체 무슨 일이야?" She asked, her gaze flicking between you and Matthew.

"Black Viper." Matthew's jaw clenched at the thought.

"씨발." So-min's lips curled into a sneer, her eyes hardening. "How the hell did this happen?"

"We'll find out," Matthew said, his voice low and dangerous. "I want everyone who isn’t on the main quest list searched on their way out. And no one leaves until we've questioned them all. Have Jiwoo look for Sasha, and I want Joseph to put heat on the security. When we find him, I’ll break him."

So-min nodded, her expression grim. "응, 건달."

"And get the medic up here, now." Matthew's voice carried an air of finality as he stepped into the elevator.

The doors slid shut with a soft hiss, cutting off the din of the club. In the sudden silence, you could hear Matthew's steady heartbeat, strong and sure. The world around you seemed to blur as the elevator began its ascent, and you clung to the solid warmth of his body, his arms holding you firmly against him.

You weren't sure how much time passed before the elevator doors opened again, revealing the lush interior of a lavishly appointed apartment; a guard standing by the doors bowed his head respectfully as you were carried past him.

Matthew carried you through the expansive space, your eyes struggling to take in the opulent furnishings. As he turned a corner into a bedroom, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. The walls were painted a deep red, and the furniture was made of dark, polished wood. The floor was covered in plush rugs, and there was a large window that overlooked the glittering city below.

You felt your eyes begin to shut, the drowsiness overtaking you finally, but you fought against it, forcing yourself to stay awake. Matthew placed you down gently on the bed, the cool silk sheets caressing your skin. You looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, taking in his handsome features. His dark eyes were filled with concern, and his lips were set in a firm line.

"Shit, just hold on, help is on the way." He sat down on the bed, his large frame engulfing the space.

With a shaking hand, he brushed one of your braids away from your face, revealing the fear in his eyes. "You're going to be fine, I promise." He whispered, his voice laced with desperation.

As the room spun around you, Matthew's face was the last thing you saw before succumbing to the darkness.

~

ou awoke in a daze, your mind foggy and your body heavy. You felt a dull ache in your bones, and your mouth was dry as sandpaper. Blinking slowly, you tried to focus your eyes on your surroundings. As your vision began to clear, you realized you were lying in a large bed, the sheets soft against your skin. The room was unfamiliar, and your heart raced as you tried to remember what had happened.

A movement on the edge of the bed caught your eye, and you turned your head to see Sasha moving slightly in her sleep, dressed in sweats that were clearly twice her size. A frown creased your features. How did she get there?

As if sensing your gaze, she stirred and opened her eyes.

"Y/N!" Her voice was loud as she clenched you in her arms. "I'm so happy you're okay! I'm never letting you out of my sight again!"

"Sasha..." Your voice was a hoarse whisper as you struggled to sit up, your muscles protesting the motion. "What happened?"

"You were... poisoned," she said, her voice taking on a hard edge. "Black Viper."

“The Black Viper..?” You felt a chill run down your spine at the mention of the notorious gang. "How did you know?"

"Matthew told me what happened," a heavy sigh left her mouth. "Or I kinda forced him to."

"You, forcing the crime boss to tell you something? Really?" You almost chuckled at the thought of your best friend, standing mighty at five foot four, yelling at a man who could crush her with his bare hands.

"Hey, when it comes to my best friend's safety, I'll do anything," she gave you a playful nudge. "I'm glad you're okay. I don't know what I would have done if..." her voice trailed off as she fought back tears.

You pulled her into a tight embrace, the two of you clinging to each other for a moment as the gravity of the situation settled in.

"He's not so bad, you know. That Matthew,” she said through choked tears. “He cares about you."

You frowned. "We barely know each other, Sash."

"But he does care," Sasha insisted. "He was so worried when he brought you up here last night. He stayed by your side until the doctor came to check on you. I don’t I think he even slept."

"Where is he?" you asked, your voice sounding more confident now.

"He's been in his office since last night," she gave a heavy sigh. "Last time I checked, looking very angry while on the phone...I think last night might've fucked business up for Eclipse for a little while."

Heat crept into your cheeks as you recalled the brief moment in his high-rise suite; his big hands gently caressing your skin. "I don't even know what to say to him..."

"Well, if he's smart, he won't let you out of his sight for a while," Sasha winked, but her voice held a hint of steel. "I don't want anyone coming for you. I won't stand by while that happens."

"I'll be careful, Sash," you replied, trying to keep the amusement out of your voice at her protectiveness. "I should probably go thank him."

You eased yourself off the bed, your muscles protesting as you straightened up. Sasha was at your side in an instant, her arm wrapping around yours to offer her support. "Take it easy," she instructed. "Your body was under a lot of stress last night."

"I can't sit here all day," you sighed. "Not when there's a man to see and...other work to be done."

"Well, go easy and work your way up to it," she continued, her tone fierce. "Do NOT push yourself."

"Yes, mother," you joked, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.

"I'm serious," she warned. "Now come on. I'm sure you have a crime boss to get back to."

You nodded and kicked back the covers, your body feeling stiff but otherwise stable. Slipping on a pair of slippers, you tentatively made your way out of the room and towards Matthew's office. As you neared the heavy wooden door, you could hear his raised voice coming from inside.

"No excuses. I want answers." His tone was low and dangerous, sending shivers down your spine. "I want to know how the fuck a Viper got in, and how the fuck he was able to get behind that bar."

"Matthew," Joseph's voice was measured. "We already looked at the surveillance cameras. He couldn't have gotten that far ahead with you looking down at the main dancefloor. No one sneaked past us either. Unless you're implying-"

"Someone here let him in." Matthew growled. "Everyone needs to be questioned."

"And you just wanna risk pissing off our business partners?" His right-hand man challenged him.

"Well then they can kindly fuck off."

There was silence after Matthew's response.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Somin's voice interjected, "two of the security guards we have on file didn't report in at the end of the night. We need to track them down."

"...And bring them to me. You're in charge of that, Somin."

Suddenly, a set of footsteps from the other side of the door padded forward and you rushed to hide in the hallway bathroom, pushing open the handle and hiding within the tub and pulling the shower curtain over yourself. You watched through the thin veil of the curtain the shadow of the guard's feet appear right outside the door and making their way further down the hallway.

As the guard's shadow faded and their footsteps were no longer audible, you opened the curtain slowly and crawled out of the tub, opening the door and taking a peek outside.

There was no sign of the guard.

"So...Ricardo wants to fuck with me all of a sudden?" You heard Matthew continue from the other side of the door.

"He had no part in this. When we sent a hitman to his place, he didn't know it was us," Joseph reassured. "So if this was a revenge hit, someone else in the cartel is responsible."

Matthew gave a heavy sigh, the leather of the couch creaking as he changed his position. "What about who the fuck poisoned her?"

"Wasn't that hard to track him down," Jiwoo's voice was heard. "The idiot wasn't even hiding out that far from Eclipse after the incident. He's all yours when your ready."

Matthew let out a frustrated sigh. "씨발 뱀..." He paused for a moment. "Jiwoo, start working on getting some answers out of our new friend. Let's see if he really is a Viper or just another rat."

"응, 건달," she responded before the sound of a door opening and closing was heard.

There was a moment of silence, before Somin spoke up again, her voice softer now. "What about her?"

"Her?"

"The woman."

There was a pause. "I'm not going to let anything happen to her. She's under my protection."

"You're gonna try and keep her away from the shitshow we deal with on a daily basis?" Joseph questioned incredulously.

"I might put off on meeting anyone, 6th Street gang and Mafia alike." He muttered, an air of finality to his tone.

A heavy sigh was heard. "But the big meeting is in a couple days and with those sons of bitches out there on a power play..." Somin's voice rose.

"I don't give a fuck." Matthew's tone was low and dangerous. "I'll take care of this Viper shit first, then I'll worry about the rest."

"And then?" Somin pressed.

"Then, she'll forget all about it." Matthew's tone left no room for argument. "And go back to her normal life."

"You sure that's what you want?" Somin asked softly, her tone tinged with concern.

There was a long pause.

"I'd kill a motherfucker a hundred times over," Matthew grumbled under his breath, "before I'd let anything happen to her."

Your heart skipped a beat, and heat rushed to your cheeks. You bit your bottom lip to suppress a smile, despite the situation. It was comforting to hear the feeling was mutual.

"Are you sure? She seemed like-" Joseph tried to get through to his boss, but he silenced him with a cold glare.

"Drop it," he snapped.

"Yeah, yeah," he chuckled, putting his hands up in defense.

Matthew fell silent, and for a moment, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on his desk. "Just... keep an eye on her for me, alright? And Sasha, too. I don't want them getting mixed up in this any more than they already are."

"응, 건달," So-min responded.

"Of course." Joseph reciprocated.

"You both have your assignments, now leave me." Matthew commanded.

Sounds of movement emanated from the room as Matthew's trusted advisors collected their things and headed to their designated jobs. The heavy wooden door closing loudly with a gentle thud behind them.

You heard Matthew exhale, his breath ragged. A muted thump resonated through the floorboards and you guessed it must have been his head hitting his desk.

For a few minutes, the only sound you could hear was his heavy breathing, your own racing heart, and the steady ticking of the clock.

After the minutes dragged on, it felt like hours, you worked up the nerve to grab the door handle and push the door open, the squeak of the door announcing your presence.

Once the door was open, you saw Matthew lifting his head from the table, his eyes slowly looking up from the grain and finding the owner of the hand. Matthew instantly sat up, his strong muscles shifting and rolling beneath the black silk shirt.

"...Y/N," he whispered, his dark eyes fixed on yours, "you're awake."

Before you could respond, he was on his feet, striding across the room to where you stood.

"Yes, I'm okay," you reassured him. "Thanks for...everything."

"Good," he hummed. His intense gaze never leaving yours. The richness of his cologne engulfed you as he reached up to brush a loose braid behind your ear, his fingertips lingering on your cheek. "And don't thank me

"Does that happen often around you?" you blurted out, wincing at the words as they left your mouth.

He let out a hollow laugh. "More than I wish. I guess I should've been paying attention better."

Matthew's eyes held an unfathomable emotion, the familiar anger and tenderness that you remembered from the club, but also something that shifted closer to fear.

"You'll probably forget it in a month or so." He shrugged, nonchalantly.

You stood silent in front of him, the memories flooding back to you in small fragments - The feeling of his touch, the darkness that crept into the edges of your vision, and finally, the fear.

"Matthew."

The man froze in place, his hand dropping back to his side. Your body shuddered as the feeling of the needle sticking into your flesh invaded your mind.

"I...think I need to sit down," you sighed, closing your eyes briefly, holding back tears.

Moving at once, he took your hand, leading you to a seat. He sat next to you, a distance still between you. As if gauging to see how close was too close for comfort.

"Look, I don't know what kind of shit you get tangled up with every day," you began, "but I didn't ask for that." You took a breath, mentally crossing your fingers, and opened your mouth to speak, "If I'm in danger, or if I'm ever in danger because of my connection to you, I'd want to know."

Matthew's expression darkened, the tension returning to his shoulders. "Give me some time to handle it. And I'll explain-tell you everything. I promise."

Silence hung heavy in the air, and you worried you had crossed some unspoken line, your body trembling with fear.

"It isn't always like that," he finally replied, his voice strained. "Things have gotten out of hand in the past year, but it isn't going to happen again. I won't let it."

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed it down, choking on your words.

"I understand," you nodded, your hands wringing each other in a nervous tic.

"I'm sorry, so sorry for what happened," he took your hand and squeezed it, pulling it towards his chest, "But I'll make sure you're safe, no matter what it takes."

The memory of Matthew's arms around you, as he carried you out of the club, sent a shiver of anticipation through you. You shook your head, trying to clear the thoughts from your mind. He was a dangerous man - a powerful criminal. And yet, you couldn't stop thinking about him. His words echoed in your mind, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

I'll make sure you're safe, no matter what it takes.

You had never felt more drawn to someone than you did to Matthew. And yet, you knew you should stay away from him. You were just another woman caught up in the chaos of his life, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things. But that didn't change how you felt.

The sound of your name pulled your attention back to the present, and you noticed Sasha was standing by the front door, ready to leave. You nodded, giving her a weak smile.

"I’m okay," you said softly, reassuring both her and yourself.

As you climbed into the car, your thoughts drifted back to Matthew, and you wondered if you would ever see him again. A part of you hoped you wouldn't, knowing the danger of being close to him, but another part of you couldn't help but hope otherwise.

You let out a heavy sigh, settled into the plush leather seats of the car, and closed your eyes as you tried to clear your mind. As the car pulled away from the curb, you had no idea what the future held, but you knew you couldn't dwell on it now. All you could do was focus on the present and try to move forward.

So..." Sasha said, breaking the silence. "What are we going to do?"

You opened your eyes, looking over at her. Her expression was grim, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"I don't know," you admitted, "but I'm sure Matthew will figure something out."

Sasha nodded, letting out a sigh. "I hope so." She paused, looking at you. "I really do."

You nodded, unsure of what to say. The weight of everything that had happened hung heavily in the air between you. You knew it would take some time before you could fully process it all, but for now, you just needed to rest.

~

A month went quickly by, and just as Matthew promised, things went back to normal. Sasha never came back to work at Eclipse and started working at a boba cafe in Santa Monica. You went back to work and tried to forget about the mysterious crime boss who saved your life. Tried. His dark eyes and chiseled features were etched into your memory, and every night when you closed your eyes, you saw him. You felt the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze, the passion in his words. It was impossible to forget the man who had captured your heart and awakened a desire within you that you never knew existed. You never thought you'd hear from him again.

It was a quiet evening, the sun beginning to set, when your phone rang. You glanced at the screen, not recognizing the number, and answered it.

"Hello?" Your voice was hesitant.

"It's Matthew." His deep voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Matthew?" You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. "Is everything okay?"

He let out a humorless laugh. "No. Not really. I need to see you."

"See me?" You glanced around the room, as if expecting him to appear out of thin air.

"Don't feel forced to," he reassured. "Just say the word, and I'll have you escorted to me safely."

There was something about his voice, the way he said the words "escorted to me," that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You couldn't deny the pull you felt toward him - the desire to be close to him, to hear his voice, to feel his touch.

"Hm," you hummed, considering your options. "What time were you thinking?"

"Now."

"Now?" Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon.

"Yes." His voice was firm, unwavering. "I'll have one of my drivers pick you up."

Before you could respond, the line went dead. You stared at your phone, the screen going dark.

You knew you should say no - that this was dangerous, that he was dangerous. But you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to see him again, even if it was just one last time. You took a deep breath and looked at the time. It was still early enough that you could get ready before the car arrived. You stood up, grabbing your purse, and headed out the door.

As you waited for the car, your heart raced, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

After what felt like an eternity, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb, its tinted windows obscuring the driver from view. You hesitated for a moment before opening the door and climbing inside.

"Hello?" You greeted the driver, a man in his thirties with brown hair and kind eyes.

"Good evening," he nodded, his voice professional. "I'll be taking you to Mr. Kim's office."

You nodded, settling into the plush leather seat. The car pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You had no idea what to expect when you arrived at Matthew's office, but you knew it would be anything but ordinary. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the car began to slow down. You could see Eclipse up ahead, the neon sign illuminating the darkness of the night. Your heart skipped a beat as the car pulled up to the entrance, the sound of music and chatter drifting from within.

The driver got out of the car and opened the passenger door for you, giving you a polite smile. "We're here," he said simply, gesturing for you to exit the vehicle.

You stepped out, the cool air brushing against your skin. You took another deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You glanced around, seeing the usual lineup of people waiting to get into the club. You turned to look at the driver, who was waiting patiently for you.

"Ready?" He asked, his voice laced with amusement.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you followed him toward the entrance. You were greeted by a large, muscular man who was standing guard by the doors. He gave you a polite nod and stepped aside, allowing you to pass.

You walked through the doors, your heart racing as you entered the club. The music was loud, the bass pounding through the air. The lights were dim, casting everything in a hazy glow. You looked around, seeing people dancing and drinking. A sea of bodies swaying to the beat lost in their world.

"This way." the guard motioned toward the familiar set of discreet elevator doors.

You followed him, feeling the eyes of everyone in the club on you as you walked through the room. Your pulse quickens, the nerves building inside you as you reach the familiar set of elevators. The doors slid open, and you stepped inside, your heart racing as they closed behind you.

ou took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart as the elevator rose. The music was muffled, but you could still hear the faint thump of the bass. You glanced at the guard, who stood stoically by your side. His expression was unreadable, giving nothing away.

You felt the elevator slow and come to a stop. The doors opened, revealing a long, dimly lit hallway.

"He's in his office," the guard said simply before stepping out of the elevator.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you followed him down the hall. You could feel the tension in the air as you approached the heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor. You hesitated for a moment before reaching out and turning the handle, your pulse racing as you entered the room.

The first thing you noticed was the smell of expensive cologne and the gentle rifts of RnB music. The room was dark, illuminated only by a few dimly lit lamps. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with old, leather-bound volumes. A large mahogany desk sat in the center of the room, its surface covered with papers and files. A plush leather chair sat behind it, facing away from you.

"Matt?" You said softly, unsure if anyone was even in the room.

"I'm glad you're here," a deep voice came from behind you, the sound of it sending a shiver down your spine.

You turned around to see Matthew standing there, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other. His appearance was a stark contrast from before; his hair was un-styled, his silk button-up replaced with an oversized graphic tee, and his dress shoes replaced with black Nike slides. You were taken aback by how much more relaxed he seemed compared to the first time you met him. It was...cute.

"I wasn't sure if you would come," he said, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I wasn't sure if I would either," you admitted, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips.

He smiled softly, taking a sip of his drink as he approached you. "It's good to see you again," he said, his voice low and husky.

You felt your pulse quicken as he stopped just inches from you, his presence overwhelming. You could still see the faint bags under his eyes.

"It's good to see you too," you breathed, swallowing hard as you looked up at him. "You look very comfortable. I thought you'd look-"

His gaze was intense, his dark eyes searching yours as if trying to read your mind.

"Relaxed?"

You nodded, your heart skipping a beat.

"Something like that," you muttered, heat rushing to your cheeks.

"Hmm," he hummed, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards slightly. "That makes two of us." He held out his glass of whiskey. "Care for a drink?"

You nodded, reaching out to take the glass from him. Your fingertips brushed against his as you did, sending a shiver down your spine. The faintest hint of an intoxicating scent lingered on his skin - a mixture of the smoky aroma of whiskey and something that was uniquely him.

"Thanks," you murmured, bringing the glass to your lips.

The amber liquid burned as it slid down your throat, warming you from the inside.

"So, tell me what happened."

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he took a seat in his leather chair. He motioned for you to sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"A fucking shit show, that's what happened," he said, his voice laced with weariness.

"Well, start from the beginning," you urged, crossing your legs as you leaned forward to give him your full attention.

He took a moment to collect his thoughts, pouring himself another drink before beginning his story.

"There was a Viper gangster who took out my friend Hwall. Miguel is his name. He's one of the most loyal employees, and Miguel is definitely not someone I'm going to forgive lightly."

Matthew's grip on the crystal tumbler tightened, his knuckles turning white.

"Then he took Hwall's threads and waltzed right into Eclipse," he scowled, taking a sip of his drink. "Bribed one of our newer hires with money to let him. Easy fucking bribe."

You looked at him, taking in his appearance. You could see the fatigue in his face, the weariness in his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, the weight of everything resting heavily upon him.

"You weren't even the original target," he continued, his voice heavy with emotion. "He was after Somin; was bitter about a recent deal I had her make with a street gang setting up to partner with the Vipers. Unbeknownst to his leader."

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and your blood ran cold. You felt a pit open in the center of your chest as you processed his words.

"So you went after him?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Yes." He met your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with anger. "Jisoo found him hiding out not that far from Eclipse. He made it too easy."

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"What happened then?" You asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Told us everything we needed to know. And it helped that he was scared shitless for his life," he looked down at his slightly bruised hands. "Then I had my way with him."

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. You weren't sure if you wanted to know what "his way" entailed.

"I gave him the poison option, like how he did you," Matthew said, his voice low and menacing. "He chose not to take it. So I broke his fingers."

You sat in silence for a moment, processing what you had just heard. Your heart pounded in your chest, your palms growing sweaty as you tried to keep your emotions in check.

"Matthew," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, his gaze fixed on you.

"Don't be," he said, his expression unreadable. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat. No one hurts the people I care about."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You weren't sure what to make of them, but the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

"So," you quickly change the tone of affection. "He was really a rat after all, huh?"

His eyes darted up at you with newfound interest.

"Definitely a rat," he smirked and let out a modest chuckle. "So, what did you expect me to look like before you came over?" He raised a brow in curiosity.

"Y'know," you shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Button-up shirt, clean slack pants; the usual gangsta look."

"The usual 'gangsta' look?" he echoed. "You're cute."

You looked up at him through your lashes, trying not to get lost in the pools of his brown eyes.

"Well, that's how they always dress in the movies." You took a sip of the whiskey, the burning sensation down your throat warming you from the inside.

"It's true. Most people in my field are more... traditional. But I like to mix things up every now and then. Keep 'em on their toes. Y'know?"

You nodded, the heat in your cheeks spreading throughout your body. You couldn't help but notice how sexy he was. The way he carried himself with confidence, his sharp jawline, the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, his tattooed muscular arms...

"I'm glad you like it." His eyes watched you intently, noticing the way your eyes took him in.

"I do," you said softly, meeting his gaze.

His expression softened slightly, his lips curling into a smile.

"Good," he said, his voice low and husky. "I'm glad."

You felt your heart flutter at the sound of his voice, and you shifted in your seat, trying to compose yourself.

"I'm glad I came to see you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He raised his glass in response, taking a long sip of his drink. "So am I," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You were captivated by him, unable to look away. You wondered what it would be like to be with him, to feel his lips on yours, his hands roaming your body. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a heat spreading throughout your core.

"So," you distract yourself with your whiskey again. "If you're such a "businessman", where are all your guns?"

"Who said I didn't have any?" He teased you with a raised brow. "In this business, you gotta be good at hiding things. I have two at my sides right now."

"Where?" Your interest is piqued.

Matthew smirked, glancing down at his waistband, and running his long fingers over his crotch.

"My weapons dealer call 'em 'dick-sleeves.' Got them for me as a gag gift."

You felt your cheeks flush at the mention of the word, especially when his had a reputation as infamous as his.

"Do they...do anything?"

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"It shoots when I pull the trigger."

Your curiosity got the better of you, and you rose from your chair, closing the gap between you.

"Can I see it?"

Matthew looked up at you, his gaze darkening. "Depends. Do you trust me?"

"What kind of question is that?" You try to banter, using humor to diffuse the heavy tension between you. "Obviously not. Considering I'm here with a crime boss late at night and alone."

"Ouch." He grinned, pressing a hand to his heart. "I'm not that bad. But then again, I might as well ask that myself. What brought you back here?"

You let out a small sigh, your eyes darting to his full lips.

"Foolish curiosity."

"Mhm...Is that so?"

Suddenly Matthew's large hands were at your sides, lifting you up, and a surprised gasp left your mouth as he placed you gently on the desk. You met his gaze, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

Never breaking eye contact with you, you watched as one of his large hands slipped under his waistband with a torturous speed. It wasn't long until he reached his zipper, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You could feel your pulse quicken as the anticipation built within you. And then, with a slow movement, he pulled out a large silver-plated pistol, engraved with intricate lotus designs and dark ebony inlays.

Inches from you, he held the muzzle of the cold weapon, the warmth of his hand breath skipping over the cold surface of the weapon. You admired the way Matthew effortlessly flicked the safety on and off with an excited grin. It terrified yet delighted you.

"This was a gift from my father," he whispered as his hot breath caressed the muzzle.

You hesitated for a moment before reaching forward to touch the glistening steel. As you expected, it was cold to the touch. You could feel the curves of each design beneath your fingers, and you breathed heavily, your heart racing at the thought of having a loaded weapon in such proximity.

"Gave it to me before he was murdered a few years back."

You looked up at him, noticing the pain in his eyes. It was clear this was a touchy subject for him, but he continued, a hint of emotion lacing his words.

"Was 'supposed to give it to me when he handed the family business over to me. Whenever that was originally gonna be," he scoffed.

"It sounds like you meant a lot to him," you whispered, running a finger down the length of the barrel, taking in every detail.

"I like to think so," he breathed, his eyes never leaving yours.

There was something electric in the air, something different between the two of you. An intimacy, the tension thick. With the memories, the grief Matthew repressed began to resurface, and he subconsciously grasped the handle tighter, as if the weapon could ease his pain. You chewed your inner cheeks in an attempt to fight the wetness. A thick, heavy silence filled the air as you both got lost in your thoughts. And then, slowly he placed the weapon down at your side, reached forward, his large hand cupping your cheek. You could feel the calloused ridges against your soft skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I want to ask you something," his deep voice was barely above a whisper, his intense eyes locked onto yours.

"What is it?" You blinked, fighting the growing attraction that coursed through your veins, bringing the dull ache to the surface, right above your heart.

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, a smirk working his way onto his lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

You knew you shouldn't let him, but there was something in the tension between you, the hunger in his eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to say no. Instead, you nodded, your heartbeat quickening.

"Please," you breathed, leaning in, desperate to feel his lips on yours.

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, his mouth was on yours, hungry and needy, making your knees go weak. Your tongues danced together, his taste intoxicating, filling your senses. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, unable to get enough.

You had been longing for this ever since the first time you met. And now here he was, his strong arms around you, his masculine scent surrounding you, his delicious kisses filling your head with thoughts you had been desperately trying to suppress.

You pressed yourself against him, eager to feel his body against yours, needing more than just a kiss. His hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers entwining in your curls, pulling you closer, and his tongue explored your mouth. You kissed him back eagerly, savoring every moment, your entire body aching for him.

Before you could graze his skin with your own, he pulled away, causing a sigh to leave your lips. It was a mixture of gratitude and frustration that he hadn't continued with his obvious seduction. His deep brown eyes searched yours, his heavy breath matching yours as if to tell you that this was hard on him as well.

"I'll ask you one more thing," he breathed, his voice barely audible as he gazed at your body. "Do you want me to have one of my drivers take you home?"

You nodded, feeling a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered.

"Or," he said, his voice low and husky. "Do you want me to show you how much I want you?"

You shivered at his words, your breath quickening as you felt the warmth of his body pressed against yours. You could feel your heart racing, your pulse quickening as you gazed into his dark, drained eyes.

"I..." You swallowed hard. "You look exhausted, though. Maybe you should rest."

"I haven't been able to rest for the past month," he sighed. "My mind has been occupied with work, the turf war, and...you."

Your brows raised.

"I'll be able to rest," He looked down. "Once I have you."

You shivered once more, the hairs on the back of your neck standing. You opened your mouth as if to say something, only to close it when you realized you had nothing to say. Instead, you bit down on your lower lip as you contemplated his request.

You couldn't shake off the fear of mixing pleasure and pain, pleasure and death, and pleasure with the uncertainty of his motives and moral compass. After all, he was a criminal, but it's not like you weren't also living a life of misbehavior yourself. He's a powerful, handsome, fascinating businessman...criminal you correct yourself, who obviously had wealth; power, and a beautiful, young woman falling at his feet. A deep blush covered your cheeks as you looked up at him through your lashes, meeting his dark gaze.

With you out of words to answer, Matthew filled in the blanks for you:

"You're nervous," he chuckled. "When was the last time somebody touched you?"

Gathering all the remaining dignity you had left, you mutter a response before turning your eyes to his hands.

"It's been...years."

His hand found its way to your chin, lifting it up to look upon him again.

"Do you want me to fix that?" his tone is soft, teasing, yet slightly dangerous as he waits for an answer.

A small nod from you is all he needed to continue. "Come with me." His voice beckons you forward, leaving your seat behind and walking towards him as he guides you towards his office door.

"Let's take this to my bedroom."

With your stomach doing little backflips in anticipation, and your legs moving forward, Matthew leads you into his black marble staircase.

The smell of crisp chilled wine, candles, and bourbon wafted through the hall as the clicking of the vintage clock on the wall signified his excitement was just as audible as the sound of your elevated heart thumping hard and fast in your chest. As Matthew reaches for the handle of his sleek bachelor suite, he wastes no time swiftly pushing it open and grabbing your wrist. The door swings shut, and as it does, his lips capture yours into a greedy, heated kiss. Matthew kisses you so hungrily that you begin to tremble against him.

His movements were tentative yet desperate as he gently walked the two of you back to the soft plush bed. When the back of your knees buckled upon the edge, you eagerly clung to him, an effort for support; Matthew was practically towering over your physique.

"I promise I will be gentle," he mumbles against your lips.

You gasp as his hands hold firmly to your hips. Matthew smirked triumphantly before parting your legs and carefully lifting your hoodie over your head, and then your unclasped shorts button. One by one, articles of clothing revealed themselves, like a grand reveal, so methodical and precise. Once your pants had hit the tiled floor, his slender, veined fingers traced around the elastic band of your underwear, their slow movement inching them down with deliberate caution.

Your breath came short and quick, the air surrounding you feels electrifying. Matthew presses a kiss between your thighs as your heels dug into the plush bed sheets. A moan escaped your lips as the pressure subsided and your panties were removed. Slowly, ever so slowly, Matthew pulled himself away from you, leaving you standing there in nothing but your bra.

Standing back up straight, Matthew licked his full lips as his hungry gaze trailed across your body, seductively, hypnotically.

"God, you're so beautiful," he whispered, his deep tone sending shivers down your spine.

A gasp escaped your lips as you watched him take peel his shirt off his body, full exposing his fulling tattooed arms and chest to you for the first time. Biting your lower lip, you admire the sharp muscly V that trailed down his abdomen, leading to his generous length concealed behind his basketball shorts. Your palms and fingers ran along his hard, flat, firm belly and feeling him quake and shiver. Using your small, delicate thumbs, you started feeling along the outlines and grooves of his tattoos, tracing your way up his stomach and chest until you cupped his handsome, sun-kissed face. Staring into each other's eyes once more, yours hooded by thick fluttering lashes, Matthew reaches behind you and unclasped your silk bra.

As your breasts heaved in their naked state, Matthew guided you higher onto the soft plush mattress, your long neck laid exposed, the natural curve of your back pressing against the sheets.

Both of your chests heaved with need, breaths hot as you felt like gravity was pulling you together, desperate for him to touch you. It was a struggle to keep your mind intact. Your inner thighs began dripping wet with an anticipating need to feel his length. Before you knew it, he had dropped his pants, followed shortly by his tight black boxers, sliding them off his lean frame.

"Just relax," Matthew growled through his crooked grin, his sultry voice echoing through the room. His hair perfectly framed his face, framing his sharp jawline like a frame holding an ethereal work of art.

As his shaft twitched and grew hard before your eyes, a breathy "holy shit" escaped from your lips. Using the underside of his thumb, he wiped his bottom lip, tilting his head curiously. With amusement in his eyes, he reached over into the nightstand table, where he began digging around for a condom.

"You ready?" he asked in a concerned tone.

Before you could even think or process your thoughts, a nod spills out, your quivering thighs pulsating in dire eagerness. With his warm, calloused fingers, Matthew slid the silky smooth plastic along his large length, only pausing for a brief moment when he had gotten the task done. Pulling himself closer to your entrance, the sound of his shaft rubbing along you was enough to cause yourself to tremble and shake like a virgin.

An intense and tingly pleasure you had forgotten existed pulsated inside your core and began to gather in intensity. However, before the real fun could begin, Matthew's mouth quickly found your pebbled dark nipples. Tugging and playing with your buds, goosebumps erupted across your darkening skin.

"It's taking everything in me," he breathed, a crooked grin tugging on his lips. "not to dive into you right now."

"I-I think I can manage."

"Oh, really?"

Pleased with your answer, Matthew rubbed his length along your throbbing heat. You hadn't been this wet in a long, long time, yet as he hovered over you, his hips instinctively rolling forward into yours, the walls of your cunt gripping him, so that it could consume all of the moisture. You gasped as he tenderly explored you, inch by tortuous inch until he was fully inside. Rendering you utterly discombobulated and senseless, you heard the clicking of his jaw, breathing so heavily it warmed your ear. It wasn't until he found the bottom of your folds, where your most intense caverns resided that you noticed the overwhelming tension around you.

In silence, with every few thrusts, his large, muscular arm would wrap securely around your waist, pulling your body so close. Instant gratification washes over the two of you as Matthew quickly begins his rhythmic dance, while his arms placed at both sides of your head— holding himself up, and dipping down to steal a greedy passionate kiss.

The way his chiseled waist and his veined abdomen flexes as he pumped himself into you almost had your eyes rolling back in your head. Shamefully, he brings one of his hands down to massage and tease your enlarged clit, sending a surge of pleasure cascading all throughout your body. You let out a seductive and rather unladylike grunt as your breath tickles the side of his neck.

His pace became rhythmic, strong and penetrating as the buildup for his peak quickly approached. Your legs and core grew weak, and he realized that you were on the cusp of losing yourself all over his manhood. Taking a finger and massaging your clit, he pushed you to the brink, burying himself into your wet opening, to the hilt.

"Matt!" You screamed in pleasure as the shock waves exploded over your body and swept through you. He captured your lips into a wet, sloppy kiss as he continued his relentless thrusting, faster and harder than before.

His hips snap back and forth as his grip tightens on you.

He kissed your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. "Mhm," he mumbled. "I'm not done with you yet."

The mixture of his thrusts and your wetness became sloppy, driving you insane.

You leaned on your elbows to cup his face, biting your lip.

"Please..." You shook your head in disbelief, sweat dripping down your skin.

"You gonna cum for me again?" he asked through clenched teeth.

You couldn't even hold yourself together at the point and resorted to clinging onto him, fingernails digging into his back, shaking. "Mh-mhm..."

There was a desperation in your tone; it made his skin tingle with each trembling little squeal.

"Keep those pretty legs wide apart for me," he groaned, throwing his head back, his hips stuttering as he gripped the backboard and pounded into you in an unrelenting pace.

You were on the verge of tears at how good it all felt, and your toes curled hard.

In the background of the muffled music, you heard a string of explicit curse words spill from his mouth. You trembled, and as if right on cue, the muscles in your core contracted, the second orgasm hitting you like a tsunami wave, the very core of your being, sent into absolute bliss.

Shuddering into his ears, "O-oh my g-od!" left your lips between whimpers.

You fell limp on the bed as he continued, your energy and entire being almost depleted, drained by the explosive double orgasm. Despite this, you found it cute how he was fighting off his own, and the way his eyes would clench whenever your soft, slick flesh made contact with his. As the erotic pulses rocked your body, Matthew dug his hands into your ass and pulled you onto him, snapping his hips into your still, quivering heat.

Your moans drive him into a frenzy, and he pumped mercilessly into you.

With each roll of his hips, he let out a groan, his fingers dipping between your bodies and seeking your pearl, where he rolled it, coaxing another orgasm from you. He could barely talk through his breaths. "Cum with me," he whispered, his fingers slipping up and down, along with his penetrations. Your breaths intertwined as you both fell from the ecstasy, neither knowing whose is whose at this point.

And Matthew slumped over you, gently stroking and rubbing the side of your body.

"Thank you," he whispered as he gingerly pressed his lips to yours. You exhaled in pure awe.

The room fell silently, except for the syncopated rhythm of the two of you inhaling and exhaling, a dance of passion and gratification. You were speechless, trembling with excitement as your skin dewed and hairs prickled.

With lust-glazed eyes, his sultry voice spilled from his mouth, making a delightful moan against your ears, tickling your skin. "Can I...propose something to you?"

You nodded, relinquishing yourself to whatever words he chose to deliver.

"Wake up next to me every day and I'll give you the world. If that's what you want."

Your eyes sparkled as you shook your head again. "Matt." Your breath shuddered in disbelief, a trembling whimper creeping from your lungs. "Are-you serious?"

He laid beside you, his eyes never leaving your heaving frame, the sight causing his cock to grow. Sliding down the length of your body, his torso enveloped yours, warmth radiating off of him. He was all muscle, and your heart pounded at the sight. And then his eyelashes met your cheek, kisses trailed from your collarbone. You trembled at the feeling, desperate to cling to him, though exhausted.

"I'll protect you with my life, love," his lips traveled from your neck to your chest, and you released a pleasurable sigh. "But I know that I can't just let you go either."

His tongue licked the corner of his mouth, followed by his glistening teeth that bit down on his bottom lip.

"You need my protection," he said softly, his voice nearly a whisper, though as loud and piercing as a gunshot wound. "And I need you."

~

𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖚𝖊𝖉...

[kriegsgeist]

A [Hopefully] Humorous Rant On Rock Music

If there's any trend whose popularity really has not trickled down to younger generations, it's British Invasion bands. If you're currently in your mid-late 20s, you might recall how your parents and others among their generation insist that The Who or The Rolling Stones are the best gift God ever gave us, yet I don't know a single soul among my age group who ever bought much into that beyond a vague amount of respect or admiration. Don't get me wrong, there are younger people who might like or love that music, but none of them like it with anywhere near the same amount of devout fervor as the people who grew up to those bands when they were at their biggest.

Best we've got are guys who really like The Beatles, but The Beatles are kind of a force unto themselves so they don't really count here and thus don't really represent what I mean here. And to reinforce my point in regards to not counting The Beatles, a lot of these fans of British Invasion bands seem to oddly either dislike or simply not care for The Beatles very much. I believe back in the day there were some fan rivalries that these people seem to have never really gotten over, even though, musically speaking, there's no reason any of these Rolling Stones fans would have anything to dislike about The Beatles. It's clearly some matter of long-forgotten principle that hasn't been relevant for at least half a century.

I don't know if this post is about to come across as if I just fucking hate The Rolling Stones or something, because I don't. I just don't really feel very strongly about that type of rock music. I prefer the bands that came slightly later who took influence from them, and I think it's safe to say that most do to. I'm of course referring to The Doors, Led Zeppelin, or Hendrix. Go out on a typical Friday night and you're a lot more guaranteed to see at least one young woman in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt than you will anyone in a The Kinks shirt. So what the fuck is the missing link here? Why do we worship The Doors but not The Kinks? Do the kids these days just not get it? (Probably.) Does any of this shit even matter? (Probably not.) Will writing this post inspire either myself or any of you to go back and check out some of this British Invasion music? (Also probably not.) Maybe for a second you'll consider it, but then realize you also don't care and keep doing what you were doing.

I'm gonna make an uneducated conjecture that, for whatever reason, it just isn't fashionable right now, and fashion is often a very arbitrary thing. For all I know, maybe next year suddenly people will be getting nostalgic for this era of rock music. Then again, maybe not. It might be perceived as old-fashioned as Bill Haley by now. Fuck, if you really wanna go back, you might even ask why almost no one, and I mean not even our parents, seems to give a hot shit about fucking Elvis anymore. Wasn't he supposed to be The King of Rock n Roll? Then how come we're all so apathetic about him that we don't even bother doing impressions of him anymore? Is he honestly so fucking irrelevant now that we don't even waste our breath making fun of him? (Oh wait, wasn't there a movie about that guy not too long ago? Shit.) I don't fucking know, man.

You might as well be asking why we don't worship the fucking King of Ragtime Scott Joplin. I mean... come on, you know Scott Joplin, right? The guy who did The Entertainer? Once you've looked it up you'll go, "Oh yeah, I know this song." It's fucking good right? Well, he also did Maple Leaf Rag which is even better, and you're gonna love it. I know, just trust me. So why don't you go unwind and smoke up to that instead of The Doors for once? You're not gonna hurt Jim Morrison's feelings, I promise. He'll understand.