Ruby’s Breath Hitched As The Photo Loaded On Her Screen, Her Fingers Tightening Around Her Phone. Oh,

Casey felt her eyes on his lip. He could only imagine the state he was in. "Nothing. It's not important -- I just need to leave, and quickly. Say you'll come with me. Please, Corey." The male replied as he begged her. "Yeah, he did, but I'm not taking it anymore. I'm getting far away from here" Casey muttered, wincing as he pressed a hand to his lip.

corey  had  only  been  standing  on  casey’s  doorstep  less  than  a  minute  before  the  door  swung  open.  her  pouty,  glossed  lips  parted,  eyes  zeroing  in  on  her  friend’s  bloodied  lip.  “whoa,  what  happened?”  the  response  fell  from  his  mouth  so  fast  that  her  brain  could  barely  keep  up.  must’ve  had  something  to  do  with  coming  off  a  ten  hour  shift  at  the  gas  station.  it  sounded  like  a  jumbled  mess.  all  she  heard  was  come  with  me.  “c’mere.”  corey  breathed,  pulling  him  onto  the  porch.  “your  dad  did  this?”

Kai let out a slow, sharp breath through his nose, his jaw tightening as he stared down at her. She was enjoying this—his reaction, his jealousy, the fact that he lost control because of her. And fuck, he knew she was playing him, winding him up just to watch him snap.

His heart was hammering beneath her teasing fingers, but he didn’t move her hand away. Instead, he smirked—dark, dangerous, full of something wicked.

“You think I’m jealous?” His voice was low, gravelly, as he stepped in even closer, closing the space between them until her back nearly hit the wall. “You think I saw him touching you and lost my mind because I wished it was me?” His head tilted slightly, his lips brushing just barely along the shell of her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

His fingers curled under her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at him. His gaze was fire and fury, an intoxicating mix of frustration and desire.

“Don’t flatter yourself, princess,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over hers without fully kissing her, teasing her with the proximity. “I didn’t hit him because I was jealous.” And then, just to drive her insane, just to make her crave it—he pulled back, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips, waiting to see just how much she could take before she snapped.

“I hit him because he was an asshole,” Kai said, voice steady, like he actually believed his own words. His fingers brushed along her wrist, the same hand she’d pressed against his chest, his touch deliberate—light enough to be teasing, firm enough to prove a point. His lips curled into a smirk, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But if you wanna keep playing this little game, by all means… go find someone else to kiss. See if I stop you this time.”

did she expect him to punch the guy? no. not in the slightest. she thought he may just looked seething or even try and kiss his little temptress dancing infront of him but no he swung his fist at the man she was entangled with.. or was atleast.

to say she was surprised and shocked at the same time was an understatement. she stood there for a second wide eyed before she was being dragged off in the opposite direction back to the familiar area they were in before this scene unfolded.

she was a bit perplexed by his actions, but did the rush continue? why yes it did. she loved that he wanted her so much that seeing her with another man drove him insane. even his tone was rough and she liked that also. the mix of emotions dancing in his eyes had her hooked.

"he was not an asshole.. and he had every right to do so, i am a consenting adult and i am not anyones property."

she added emphasis on the last word because she certainly felt like his at the moment but the fact was she liked the possessive nature of his.

"drove you crazy didn't it? seeing his hands on my body.. his lips against my skin? getting me to feel things that you couldn't.."

she gazed up at him with this mischeivious glint in her eyes as her hand shifted to press against his chest, just over where his heart was, and fiddled with the top of his shirt.

"i didn't ask you to hit anyone. that was your own decision. jealousy get the better of you?"

ofblcssxms​:

Ivan knew before the blonde even walked in the room that he would be greeted by a snarky comment. The woman was too predictable. Though, nevertheless, a smirk crossed his face. “I am good at this. They don’t usually fight back.” He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the counter with a light groan. Thankfully it had just been his face in the cross fire. Ivan knew the damage a pair of knuckle dusters could do in the wrong hands, or even the right ones for that matter. Had they have gone for the ribs, he may have a fractured bone or two, putting the rest of his contracts in jeopardy. “Someone must have tipped him off, he knew I was coming.” Ivan mused, hissing as she began to work on the stitches. Eyes rolled in response to her quip, a hand then moving to lie flat over his chest. “You wound me, dear..” The pet name was one that he used often for the woman, perhaps even more so than her actual name.

Elsie tried to hide the smirk that tugged at her lips. “I’m not sure I believe you. I mean, I thought the big bad Ivan could handle anything. And now I find out you can only deal with them if they come willingly.” She whistled, shaking her head. Honestly, she still found him impressive. She knew personally the type of people they dealt with and for the male to come away with just a cut and a few grazes was admirable. “ублюдки.” The blonde muttered as she continued to work away at his stitches. A grin broke across her face as he pretended to be hurt by her words. “Don’t act like you have a heart.” She quipped back, pausing briefly as she looked up, winking at him. “и сделано”

“we’re a little more than just best friends, aren’t we? so why don’t you just admit it, why do you keep pushing me against dirty walls of nightclubs and silencing me with maddening kisses whenever i tell you i love you?” give me this or die

Felix shifts slightly in the hospital bed, wincing as pain tugs at his ribs. His eyes flicker up to Cassia, then down just as quickly, like he’s not sure where to look. The bruises and cuts along his cheekbone are darkening, and his arm is strapped tight in a sling. He wets his lips, swallowing before he speaks.

"Hey," he says, voice rough, like he hasn’t used it much. His fingers twitch against the blanket. "Didn’t think you’d—uh… that you’d come when they told me they called you." He glances at her again, then away, like holding her gaze for too long might make something crack open. There’s a hesitation in the way his good hand shifts, like he almost wants to reach for her but thinks better of it. Instead, he just exhales softly.

"Sorry they called you." He pauses. "But… I’m glad you’re here."

- open to: m / f / nb (mutuals and non-mutuals) - muse: cassia crocetti, mid-late twenties, dance instructor. firecracker, outgoing, but can be hot-headed. very loyal and soft. - based on this prompt. feel free to dm me if you'd like to plot !!

"no, here's what you don't understand — " her voice is shrill, full of emotion. cassia has never been one to hold back, especially in a situation like this. "i don't care if the fucking pope is back there. i got a call saying they were hurt, that it was an emergency, and i'm here now, so what's the hold up?!" cassia makes a mental note to apologize later. it's not the nurse's fault that there's security and cassia doesn't have any patience. truthfully, her heart is racing. she's not sure what to expect. would they be bloodied and bruised? unconscious? the phone call was vague. her anxiety is the real reason she's being so ruthless. the guard finally ushers cassia to follow him. clad in leggings with an oversized hoodie, hair in a messy bun atop her head, she cautiously follows. he knocks at the door. "you have a visitor," the guard saunters off and cassia steps into the room, eyes glued to the hospital bed. "hey... they, um... they called me."

Astrid stared at the door, from the couch. Waiting to see if her visitor would disappear. The knocks sent a dull thud through her skull, each one landing like an unwelcome heartbeat. She knew it was Roman.

Of course, it was Roman. No one else cared enough to physically come to her apartment to check on her.

She hadn't meant to disappear—not really. But the weight of everything had settled in thick, pressing her into the couch, into the mattress, into the silence. Days blurred. Maybe weeks. She couldn't remember the last time she responded to a text.

Another set of knocks. His voice, firm but not unkind. Her fingers curled tight around the edge of a blanket she hadn't realized she dragged from the couch as she made her way over to the door, still not opening it.

Her throat was dry. When she finally spoke, her voice cracked. “what do you want?”

- open to: f / nb (mutuals and non-mutuals) - muse: roman serrano, mid-late twenties, twitch streamer who's just gotten pretty popular, lover boy, golden retriever type of guy. - based on this prompt. feel free to dm me if you'd like to plot !!

knuckles wrapped at his neighbor's door. it's out of the ordinary for roman to have the confidence to go to someone's door unannounced. he's always been the type to shoot a text when he's on his way and usually expected his guests to do the same. he was a private guy. roman couldn't help but worry, though, when his neighbor seemed to stop coming around. he hadn't even seen them at the mailboxes or in passing aside from once or twice and they didn't look good. while he used to hear laughter, talking, and more than one voice. he can only assume that there's been some sort of break up. he hates to think the worst, that the other person is dead, but he hasn't ruled it out. roman sighs and slides down the wall beside their door, sitting down. another three knocks. "i don't care what you look like or if there's cups all over the apartment -- can you just open the door?"

Spencer can’t look at him. He knows he should, knows Miguel deserves at least that much, but it’s too hard. If he looks, he’ll see the frustration, the disappointment, the hurt—and Spencer isn’t sure he can handle that. Not from him.

So he stares at the floor instead, at the scuffed-up toes of his sneakers, at the way his fingers twitch uselessly at his sides. He wants to shove them into his pockets, but that would make it too obvious how bad they’re shaking.

“I tried,” he says finally, voice quieter than he wants it to be. “I— I did. I asked, and he said no. Told me to get out.” His throat feels tight, but he swallows past it, grips the hem of his hoodie like it’ll hold him together. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

It’s not enough. He knows it’s not enough. But it’s all he has.

He can feel Miguel waiting, expecting something more, but Spencer doesn’t have the right words. The truth is tangled in his throat, too raw, too ugly. He knows what Miguel must be thinking—that he should’ve planned better, that he should’ve just called and asked for more time, that it’s that simple.

But it’s not. It never was.

“I can’t call him.” The words slip out before he can stop them, too sharp, too fast, and he immediately regrets how defensive they sound. He clears his throat and forces himself to steady. “It’s not that simple.”

The weight of it settles heavily in his chest, but he doesn’t let it linger. He can’t. He won’t. He forces a shrug like it doesn’t matter, like it’s all in the past, and he’s fine now. “It doesn’t matter. He’d just say no again anyway.”

It’s not a lie, but it’s not the truth either. Because the truth is, Spencer is terrified to call him. Just the thought of hearing his voice again makes his stomach twist. He doesn’t want to give him any reason to think he still has power over him, doesn’t want to hear the way his name would curl like a warning in his mouth.

So, no. He can’t call. But he won’t say that, won’t give Miguel a reason to look at him like he’s something fragile.

Instead, he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Look, I just—I just need a place to crash for a couple days. I’ll figure something out, I swear. I just—” His voice catches, and he hates it. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

He won’t go back to his parents. That was never an option. Not after they told him he wasn’t their son anymore. Not after they looked at him like he was something shameful.

He's already concerned about the fact that Spencer can't quite look him in the eye, though he supposes having to come running back to your ex with your tail tucked between your legs would be kinda humiliating for anyone. And, to be fair, Miguel never expected this------- he'd assumed that Spencer had washed his hands of their entire relationship, even after agreeing to be friends later when they'd broken up. Miguel couldn't deny how badly the sudden disappearance (and knowing that Spence left him for better) had hurt, but eventually, he pretended that it was all for the best, just to snuff out any lingering hope for them. So, of course he didn't know all the right words to say the moment Spencer resurfaced out of goddamn nowhere, homeless and seemingly helpless. "Yeah, you say no," Miguel snaps like it's fucking obvious what should've been done, "you say no so you have enough time to look for a new apartment. Call his ass up and tell him you need more time."

Kai had spent the last ten minutes leaning against the wall outside, rolling a cigarette between his fingers but never lighting it. He didn’t need it—his nerves were already buzzing, his head already clouded with the scent of her, the weight of their last conversation still pressing against his chest.

And then she appeared.

The town car pulled up like something out of a movie, sleek and dark, a sharp contrast to the warm glow of the streetlights. The window lowered just enough for him to catch the glint in her eyes, that look—knowing, challenging, absolutely fucking intoxicating.

"Get in. Now."

His lips twitched. He should make a comment, something smug about how demanding she was, how she thought she could snap her fingers and he’d come running. Instead, he just tossed the unlit cigarette to the ground and stepped forward, pulling the door open fully before sliding in beside her.

The door shut with a quiet click, sealing them inside, away from the world. The low hum of music filled the space between them. He wasn't used to this kind of luxury. It almost made him a little uncomfortable, but instead, he tried to keep his focus on her.

Kai turned to her, his body angled slightly, one arm resting against the back of the seat as his dark eyes flickered over her face, lingering on her lips.

"So," he drawled, voice low, thick with something unspoken. "What exactly do you plan on doing with me now that you've got me all to yourself?" The male asked, back to teasing her.

all evening she had been first in line to his quippy little comments and actions, it had been an endless cycle of them trying to fluster one another and it had worked especially for pia. she knew that earlier, despite his words that he was envious which is why he kept such a keen eye on her and her every move. she loved that he didn't falter in his gaze, that he was first row at the show that they had created. every move she made was purposeful for his amusement, and with every moment that went by with them one upping one another, it had now come tumbling down.

she wanted him, god did she ever. she couldn't stop thinking about the way his body felt against her own, how he reacted to her, how that low moan sprung out of him as they kissed. she needed him like she'd never needed anyone before. no other male she had met had made her feel a fraction of emotions that he seemed to in a matter of hours.

she couldn't stop thinking about him, feeling the ghost of his lips tingling against her own, the smell of his cologne still inbedded in her senses. the way his touch was firm but gentle all at the same time. even that look in his orbs when he was clearly up to no good. she wanted to keep all of it going, on a loop, over and over again.

yet he managed to say a few words and it all unravelled and he had convinced her that if she DID kiss someone else now he wouldn't actually do anything to stop it and that made her feel stupid for even entertaining the idea.

she exhaled a breath as she looked back at him, her expression was unreadable at this point, what could she be thinking about? she tapped a few letters on her keyboard of her phone and then shot a glance back up to him.

"meet me outside in 10. don't be late."

and with that she was gone, returning ten minutes later as promised outside with her town car. she had instructed the driver to loop around the city, put up the tinted window in the middle and to make sure everything was sound proof and with music playing in the background. she opened the door a fraction giving him a knowing look.

"get in. now."

Brooke shook her head. "I can't. DJ will find out—I know he will, he always does." She replied, her voice filled with fear.

open | f/m/nb muse | trenton biggs, he/him, 35, mafia member connection | anything! could include coworker, gf/bf, ex gf/bf, best friend, fwb, stranger, rival gang member, etc (no taboo pls)

"just let me do this for you," he insisted in effort to help the other.

amoonlitmemory​:

“Excuse me?” Naimh whirled around to face him, her attention diverted from the original annoyance she had been arguing with as her eyes flashed in anger at the new stranger. “If I wanted your input I would have asked for it, this is no business of yours so stay out of it. Unless of course you would rather my knife be held to your gut instead of his?” A single brow arched in challenge as her gaze flicked down to her wrist where she was gripping her blade. Once again her temper and short fuse had left her in a predicament that could probably have been avoided.

Jacob raised his brow as the young woman began to complain. He suddenly regretted inserting himself into the situation. The woman obviously didn’t want help despite needing it unless she wanted the conversation to end violently. It almost certainly would, given the pirate she was arguing with was known for being hot-headed and bloody thirsty. “Y'know, most would say thank you. Do you have any idea who you were getting into a confrontation with? You may be able to look after yourself, Miss, but trust me, he is not a man you want to be fighting with.” He warned her, shaking his head as he gestured to the barkeep for another two drinks. “Now, you can sit down and have a quiet drink with me, or you can piss off – I honestly couldn’t care much either way."