Spencer Can’t Look At Him. He Knows He Should, Knows Miguel Deserves At Least That Much, But It’s

She could tell he was angry, but there was little she could do about it. “The owner… or maybe the manager? I’m not entirely sure,” Brooke answered, her voice steady despite the chill in the night air. She fought back a shiver, the thin black dress offering little warmth. “My job is dangerous. I sleep with strangers—this isn’t new to me, Rocco.”

Rocco pressed his lips together in a thin line as he tried to calm down. His dark eyes lingered on Brooke as she spoke. He never said anything about her job, no matter how he felt about it, because in the end, his job was even worse. ❝Who paid for you?❞ he asked between clenched teeth, glancing over his shoulder for a second, then back at Brooke. ❝This place is dangerous and it will get worse in the next few minutes or so.❞

"Oh, Owen!" Mei gasped, her voice full of exasperated affection as she practically bounced across the room, light as a sunbeam. "You always say things like that so casually—like 'Oh, I just tripped and accidentally fell into a whole battlefield!'”

She dropped to her knees beside him, her small hands fluttering over the wound like worried butterflies. "That is not a 'small' explosion! And this is not just a disagreement—this is your poor leg being very upset with you!" Mei pouted, puffing out her cheeks before sighing dramatically. "Owen, do you know how hard it is to get bloodstains out of cotton? It's, like, level ten difficult. And I don't even wanna talk about the floorboards!"

But even as she huffed and fussed, her fingers were already reaching for the first aid kit, which she definitely didn’t steal from his bathroom last time. "Honestly, you make my heart work overtime! Now sit still, you big doughnut." She shot him a glare as she dabbed at the wound, not as gently as usual "Y'know what else isn’t easy? Watching you come home all battered up like this again and again and again!”

Closed starter for @littledaydreamers based on this

The crimson liquid stained the pristine white cotton, blooming like an angry flower against the soft fabric. Owen sighed, a rumble that vibrated against the floorboards of his impeccably clean apartment. He hated blood. Not because of the violence it implied, no, Owen was intimately familiar with that particular dance. He hated it because every drop on his clothes or floor meant a lecture was coming.

He knew she was there, he felt her eyes on him before he even bothered looking up. Sitting on the edge of the plush sofa, his massive frame dwarfing the delicate cushions. “Just a disagreement," he mumbled, trying to minimize the jagged gash across his thigh. "A disagreement that required knives and a… small explosion.”

"What? James, I haven't been with anyone." Violet argued back surprised by his reaction. "Come on, you know I was at work."

open to: f (mutuals only)

muse: James Junior Rennie, 21-28, cis male, straight

cw for: toxic relationship, extremely obsessive and possessive behavior

"You taste like cigarettes." He pulled away, breaking the kiss, his face contorted in disgust. "Who have you been with?" James demanded, glaring.

Kai’s eyes narrowed, watching the way she moved on the dance floor, even though he didn’t want to admit that it was getting under his skin. She was trying so damn hard not to let him get to her, but the way she kept glancing his way, the subtle tension in her movements—it wasn’t lost on him. He saw her with that guy, felt the knot twist in his stomach the moment he noticed them getting closer.

He knew exactly what she was doing. The way she pressed against him, the look she was giving him, as if she was putting on a show just for him. But what got to him wasn’t just the fact that she was doing it—it was the fact that it was working.

He gripped the edge of his glass tighter, the coolness of it doing nothing to calm the heat in his chest. Of course she was playing that game. What bothered him was the fact that she cared about how much he was watching.

The longer he watched her move with him, the more the tension in him built. It was a sick little game they were both playing, but Kai wasn’t going to let her win it so easily. He let the guy make his move, let him think he had any chance, and for the briefest moment, he considered going over there to wreck the whole damn thing.

But that’s when he stopped. No. He wasn’t the one who needed to prove anything here. She did.

Kai watched the guy’s hands settle on Pia’s hips, and for a moment, a flicker of irritation burned in his gut. But instead of letting it get to him, he forced a casual grin, tossed back the rest of his drink, and made a decision.

With a glance over at the bar, he noticed a girl with dark, wavy hair, a sultry smile, and a look of curiosity in her eyes as she watched him. Kai gave her a small nod, one eyebrow raised slightly in silent invitation. She smiled back, an almost knowing glint in her gaze, before taking a few steps in his direction.

Without a word, Kai stood up, adjusting the leather jacket on his shoulders, and made his way through the crowd. The music pulsed louder now, and as he reached the brunette, he pulled her into a smooth, confident twirl. Her body pressed against his, and he didn’t miss the way she looked up at him, impressed by his effortless charm.

Kai grinned, the tension in his chest easing for a moment. As they danced, he kept his gaze flicking back toward Pia, watching her from the corner of his eye. The moment he’d stood up, she must’ve noticed him moving toward the other girl, and the subtle satisfaction on his face only grew as he waited for her reaction. She wouldn’t like this, not one bit.

He let himself get lost in the rhythm for a moment, but his attention never strayed too far from her.

of course she clocked his attempt to make her jealous, the little act he put on to add a touch of physical contact. she loathed that it made her jealous, made a twist in her stomach at his actions wishing that his hands were gliding over her skin instead. she thought considering vince's failed attempt to held her with her shot that he would step in and show her how it is done but then again after the whole finessing she did indeed pot the ball anyway.

it was at this point she was trying not to pay any attention to him but it was getting increasingly difficult. when her friend gracie insisted that they come over to dance pia followed suit, joining the sea of people moving to the more energetic song. of course a few minutes into dancing and a guy had approached her asking if he could join. had been a long time since she'd been asked so points for politeness and he was good looking enough so she nodded as if to express what she didn't say outloud.

he asked her various questions about herself and as they got closer and closer she was pressed against him in a similar position to how she was with kai moments prior. the way her body moved against him she knew what she was doing because she had an audience and with his hands on her hips it just made it all the more sweeter.

Her hands shook as she held the phone, her body still vibrating with the adrenaline of what had just happened. She closed her eyes, leaning against a nearby wall, the cold air biting into her skin, but it didn’t compare to the ache in her head. "I—I'm at Jason's place... well round the corner'," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The pain in her head was growing, a sharp throb that made it hard to think straight. Her mind kept replaying the fight—the yelling, the way he had gotten too close, and then the moment when he threw the glass bottle, the impact making her head snap back painfully.

"I... I hit my head. When he threw something," she whispered, her breath hitching as she tried not to break down. "My head hurts so bad. I feel dizzy." She paused, feeling guilt churn in her stomach. She hated that she had to call for help, hated that she couldn't just deal with it on her own, but the truth was, she felt like she was unravelling.

"I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb your night. I shouldn’t have—" The words felt hollow as they left her lips. Her chest tightened with regret, but she couldn’t undo what had already happened. "I didn’t want to involve you, I just... I didn’t know where else to go. I just need you to come, please."

Her vision swam for a moment, and she gripped the phone tighter, trying to stay conscious.

open to: any gender~ ↳ info: jackson, 30, mechanics shop teacher

when the other called him to come pick them up he found himself getting an earful from his date. sure it was valentine's day and he stopped their dinner but the call on the other end was too important to miss. his heart sunk when they cried, and he was fast to give his date money. "i'm so sorry.." he murmurs. quickly heading outside and pulling out his keys he head for his truck. "where are you i'm coming it's okay... don't cry.."

Give me an assassin and a girl he can’t kill and I’ll ship the hell out of it.

Kai’s smirk faltered the second he saw the shift in her expression. He hadn’t expected that. He’d meant to rile her up, to keep their game going, not—whatever this was. Not her shutting down, withdrawing, like he’d just snuffed out the fire between them with a careless flick of his wrist.

His jaw tensed, watching her clutch her jacket, the way her lips pressed together like she was trying to hold back more than just words.

“Pia—” His voice came out rougher than he intended, but she was already looking away, already dismissing him, already convincing herself that this was over. And that—God, that didn’t sit right with him.

Before she could take a step, he reached for her wrist again, this time gentler, more deliberate. “That’s not what I meant.” A sigh left him, low and sharp, like he hated having to say this out loud. “You think I don’t—” He stopped himself, exhaling through his nose. His grip tightened just slightly, not enough to keep her there if she really wanted to go, but enough to make her listen.

“I don’t want her, you've got to know that” he admitted, quieter now, but no less intense. “We've been playing these games all night. I don’t get jealous. I don’t—” He ran a hand through his hair, looking away for half a second before locking his gaze back onto hers, something raw flickering beneath the frustration. “But then you make an appearance here in this shitty little club where you clearly stand out, and suddenly, I’m throwing punches in bars and watching every move you make like a fucking idiot.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his grip on her wrist loosened, fingers dragging down her arm before dropping away completely. His expression hardened again, but not before she caught the ghost of something else—something vulnerable, something unguarded.

“So yeah. Go back inside if that's what you want. Go find someone else to dance with.” He tilted his head slightly, dark eyes scanning her face like he memorised it. “But don’t stand here and act like it's not you that I want to take home with me tonight. That’s bullshit, and we both know it.”

of course he was going to twist it to his advantage. couldn't just outwardly admit that he was envious about the fact that she was close to another male, and that she let him kiss her as well. the fact was pia was a pretty confident person, she knew she was fortunate to be graced with good looks and she was content in herself and her own skin, however kai definitely made that waver.

the fact was, his comment didn't make her want to go out there and kiss someone else just to see if he was bluffing, oh no, it made her feel withdrawn instead. he'd officially put a stop to their little game in one fleeting sentence and he didn't even realise it. now she felt dejected and not to mention that she was even more furious with him than she was earlier, which she didn't think was possible.

"oh okay.. fine, have it your way.. you hit him because he was an asshole, right.. cos he was dancing with me, because you didn't seem to know him so that's not a very credible answer. but i am done, kai.. made it clear that i'm not exactly desireable anymore, so i'll save myself embarassment and quit while i'm ahead, hmm?"

she curved her jacket over her arm, her nostrils flaring with clear irritation as she looked away from him for a moment, lips pursed.

"have fun with your peppy little date over there."

whateverrps-blog​:

I really, REALLY want a plot where a son of a dangerous and feared mobster is put in charge of managing his father’s strip club and falls for one of the dancers. 

I'm still here, and I will do my replies soon -- just having some quiet time as I'm not feeling great atm

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."