#lime green pillow

[mathewvq]

Denver Rustic Living Room Example of a formal, open-concept, medium-sized living room in the mountain style with gray walls, a regular fireplace, a wood fireplace surround, and no television.

[chasingrainbowsforever]

~ Sage Green ~

[im-diseased-but-cool]

Gimme be honest fellas I can't stop thinking about the parallel of Lucifer loving God so much and God cast him away and fuccijf Sam and Dean like it drives me crazy. I hate these bitches so much they've ruined my life I have never thought about Cain and Abel but guess what folks! I AM THINKING ABOUT THOSE BROTHERS BEVAUSE OF THESE STUPID FUCKING TWINK ASS FAGS!!!!! Sam and Dean die maybe but don't god im in shambles

[ii-zi]

I got a new pillow! And pajamas! For the first time ever,!!

[joseph-kehr]

(x)

[jaygie]

Tired of all the winter gray? Need something bright to boost your mood? You might find what you are looking for here JaygiesDesign.redbubble.com

[kappatea]

Basement - Contemporary Basement An illustration of a sizable, modern basement with a beige floor and carpeting, white walls, a ribbon fireplace, and a tile fireplace.

[shipsi]

Basement - Contemporary Basement Example of a large trendy underground carpeted and beige floor basement design with white walls, a ribbon fireplace and a tile fireplace

[teaboot]

One of the best parts about working at a sex shop is the employee discount, and yeah that means excellent deals on sex supplies but that's not the big brain part.

You come to my house. Something is cooking in the kitchen- it smells wonderful. What is it? It's novelty dick-shaped pasta. I've set up a sensual sexy Italian dinner. There are candles set up on the table. They're melting too fast, dripping everywhere- they're low temp waxplay pillar candles. For dessert, I serve you a delicious ice cream topped in penis-shaped rainbow confetti sprinkles and strawberry body paint drizzle, and afterwards, serve coffee with roasted hazelnut warming lube.

We play a board game while we drink. It's sexy monopoly. It's your turn. You roll the dice. They come up as 'whisper into' and 'butt'. I lost the original dice. We're using the sexy dice. You move four spaces.

After dinner, I run you a bath. A bubble bath. The bubble gel? Sensual ocean breeze. There are candles lined up around the tub. The scent is overpowering. Why? They're three-in-one fruit flavored massage oil candles. I'm using so much. It's so wasteful. Do you want to shave? I have conditioning shave cream that smells like limes. And an electric body razor, but you can't use that in the tub.

How about a bath bomb? You toss one in. It's cherry blossom scented. As it dissolves, three sexy bath sex suggestion cards fall out. They're all variations on doggy style, probably because fucking in a bathtub is probably the easiest way to break your hip.

The water cools. You get out an dry off with a novelty towel. If you wrap it around your chest, it looks like you have gigantic tatas bursting through the fabric like the Hulk.

You walk into the bedroom. I'm there, reading an instructional book titled "The Housewife's Guide To Every Day Stripping". I'm wearing a neck pillow designed to look like a massive curved weiner. Also a pair of fake leather bondage leggings and an oversized men's christmas T-shirt that says "Jingle My Bells" across the front.

I see you come in. I put down the book, take off the pillow. Offer you a massage. You accept. I already burned up all the massage candles so I pop a new bottle of CBD massage oil that says something wrong about Chakras on it. It's very gritty. That's because there's little chunks of amethyst in it for some fucking reason. It's fine, though. You say you don't mind.

I don't do massages very often. It's bad. You end up more tense than before. One of your muscles starts to cramp- it's okay. I whip out a bottle of Lidocane topical masculine performance numbing spray. You immediately feel like your shoulder went to the dentist. It's not ideal, but it's better than cramping.

You're not in the mood to bone after that. Which is good, cause I'm actually pretty asexual, but it hasn't come up yet so I'm relieved to avoid the conversation. Instead we get ready for bed. (The weather is terrible, and I insist you stay over.) I set up the futon, then realize it smells like cigarettes from the previous owner and shyly ask if you wanna cuddle in my room. You're down.

I crawl under the covers, placing my penis-shaped pink glitter pride bottle on the side table in case one of us wakes up thirsty. Once you're settled in, I turn off the glowing bare ass night light and the room goes black.

It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you look up at the ceiling. It's dotted all over with little green flourescent lights. Are they plastic stars? No. I've pinned up a thousand glow in the dark condoms. God bless

[randomfactortees]

Contemporary Deck - Uncovered Large modern rooftop deck container garden idea with no cover: deck container garden

[shyniisparkles]

Eclectic Kids - Kids Room Ideas for a sizable, eclectic girls' room renovation with blue walls

[sapphiccstudies]

Loft-Style in Miami Idea for a mid-sized living room with beige walls, a beige floor, and a fireplace but no television or fireplace.

[evie-sturns]

caught - Matt Sturniolo

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summary: you and matt are left home alone so you decide to go upstairs, he catches you getting yourself off and decides to help you.

warnings: caught masturbating, use of vibrator, rough matt, humiliation, swearing.

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(y/ns pov)

me and matt have never been close, me, chris and nick have been inseparable since the 8th grade, but ive never really spoken to matt. he showed little interest in talking to me. ive always really liked him though, but it was clear that he didn't feel the same.

im sitting on the couch with chris and nick, and abrubtyl chris stands up and starts - "im so fucking hungry, anyone wanna come with me to get food?" chris says and gets no respone "nick i dont care your coming with me." chris says walking over to nick, whos sat comfortably beside me, he yanks nick off the couch which is followed with a scream from nick, he drags nick out of the living room. "y/n we'll be back in like 45 minutes, dont do anything stupid." nick yells out.

the front door shuts with a loud slam, i can hear nick giving chris grief from outside and i smirk slightly.

i matts been absent the past few days, so i assume hes out somewhere with friends. i sigh before heaving myself off the couch and walking towards the guest room, where i sleep most nights. i swing the bedroom door shut behind me and leap onto the bed.

my phone suddenly buzzes 'new post from matthew.sturniolo' my face lights up from the notification and i instantly click it. i scroll through, its matt wearing a lime green shirt, grey sweatpants and a cheetah print beanie. fucking hell. i instantly feel an aching between my legs and i squeeze them together, trying to get any kind of friction i can. im not even on the second picture before the heat between my legs becomes sore. i roll over on the bed and reach for the vibrator that ive kept between the matress and the bedhead for times like these.

i yank down my shorts leaving me in my white lacy panties. i pull them to the side and the hum of the vibrator fills the room, i lightly drag it up my folds towards my clit. "mmfgh" i moan loudly as i grip the pillow so tight my knuckles grow white. "oh my god oh my god" i whimper as i apply more pressure to my clit, i can feel myself growing closer to my orgasm as i imagine matt, his hands, his hair, his tattoos, his piercings, suddenly my eyes spring open, matts standing right infront of me, staring at me with his jaw slacked.

(matts pov)

i groan as i sit up in bed, ive been rotting here for ages.

i throw on a grey shirt on, and yank my sheets, which are spread across the floor, up onto the mattress then pull open the curtains, my eyes squint from the sudden sunlight beaming in my eyes.

i open up my bedroom door and walk downstairs, y/n's bag is resting on the countertop, but shes nowhere to be seen, unfortunately.

chris and nick also have vanished, theyve probably gone out with her. i walk back up the stairs towards down the corrider, suddenly i hear soft whimpers coming from the guest bedroom, my eyebrows raise as i approach the door "oh god oh god fuck.." i hear coming from inside, what the fuck is happening in there, is she hurt? i open the door slightly and look inside.

y/n is laying back on the bed, gripping the pillows as her pussy in displayed, a hot pink vibrator rubbing against her swollen clit. my jaw instantly drops as i see her phone lit up next to her, on my recent post. was she masturbating to.. me?

i freeze up, i'm not sure what to do, or think. suddenly her eyes spring open and she instantly looks me up and down, she doesnt stop though. instead she looks me in my eyes as she orgasms, cum oozing out of her as she pants. "wait-" she suddenly whispers before her eyes bulge out of her head, she instantly pulls her panties back and leaps out of bed.

she looks at me horrified, i just smirk at her, she looks like shes just seen a fucking ghost. "y/n.. did you just cum by looking at me? fucking pathetic." i say approaching her, she just looks at her feet and nods slowly. i grab her waist and throw her back onto the bed. "so fucking perfect." i growl as i pull her panties down to her ankles "please fuck.." she whimpers, "tell me where you want me" i say softly, teasingly. she twists on the bed, burying her face in the pillow "dont make me say ittt.." she whines, but i just sit patiently, waiting for her to say in. "touch my clit." she blurts out "anything.. i need you.." she reaches for me and i pin her down to the bed with one hand by her wrists. with my other hand i grab her vibrator, still wet from her cum.

i turn it up to the max setting and press it to her clit as hard as i can she squirms but i hold her down. "keep looking at me, or ill stop." i whisper in her ear and she instantly springs her eyes open, staring into mine. i unpin her wrists and use my other hand to thrust into her needy hole. she clenchs around my fingers as she squirms.

"do not fucking move." i growl as i thrust my fingers in and out of her faster. "im gonna cum oh my god." she groans and i press the vibrator down further "dont cum. do not cum until i tell you, you can." i say thrusting faster "i cant hold it-" she yells "yes you fucking can."

after a few more minutes of her begging me to let her cum, i finally let her "go on, fuck.. cum all over my hands baby." i say and before i even finish my sentence shes releasing all over my two fingers. "good girl, so good." i whisper as i pulls my fingers out of her and wipe them on the pillow behind her. "so so perfect." i whisper into her ears as her whole body shakes. i sit down next to her on the bed and pull her onto my lap. "you liked that?" i say squeezing her tight to try stop her shaking.

"fuck you dont know how long ive needed that." she whispers as she holds my bicep tightly.

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I love this omfg i hope yall like it too!!!

request or just talk whatever you want in my inbox!!

[coffeekittycatt]

Birthday Wish - Pt 2 ⋆˙⟡♡

Link to Pt 1:

Part 1 Scenario: You wished Rafayel was a real person on your birthday. That very night, he ends up at your door. You can’t believe it, but he embraces you in a sweet hug and you both share a romantic and steamy kiss. Now he wants to see your bedroom.

Notes: - NSFW, MDNI, Someone asked me for a part 2 so hope you all enjoy. This was my first real attempt at writing anything spicy besides a kiss so be patient with me 🙂‍↕️ wc: 2,071

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“Show me your bedroom, my love.” He whispers to me. His intoxicating scent of white musk hits me, and his buttery voice persuades me right away. I try calming the adrenaline from our sudden makeout session with a deep breath as I guide Rafayel to my room.

My bedroom isn’t exactly “romantic hook up” ready. I have a small twin bed, cozy, but made for one. The corner of my room is stashed with pushies, lots of Kirby’s and Pokemon. “Here it is..,” I say to him as we take a stop. He must sense my nerves, as he leans down in front of me slightly to meet my face, and he tells me, “It’s perfect, small and full of adorableness, just like you.” I giggle at his comforting gesture. “Thank you.” I happen to look over his shoulder and see one complication. My vibrator. On my nightstand. No, no, no! How embarrassing!! Rafayel turns his head to see what I am staring at. “What are you scouting for cutie? Oh-“ He stops leaning down where I am and takes a few steps in the direction of my forbidden toy. I attempt to cover my eyes. I have no excuse for this. Rafayel picks up the small, lime green vibrator. His eyebrow raises and he looks back at me. “What is this green contraption?” Before I can choke up a random word besides “vibrator”, he flips the device around and finds the “on/off” button. His eyes widen as his finger presses down and we both hear the “buzzzzzz”. As if I wasn’t already blushing so much that my cheeks could practically cook an egg on top of themselves, I scurry and grab the vibrator to shut it off. “It’s nothing! Just a toy.” I say. Maybe if I play it cool, he will drop it. I do have lots of “normal” toys sitting around my room anyway. He looks down at the vibrator in my hand once more and glances back up at me, this time with a glint of amusement and something else I can’t put my finger on.

He smirks slightly and asks, “Tell me love, how do you *play* with this toy?” He takes a seat on my bed and his long-fingered, slender hand pats close beside him. He gets comfortable and grabs the nearest throw pillow and covers his lap. Why cover your lap? I think to myself. Maybe that is just how he likes to sit? I shrug off the question and take a seat. My heart has calmed since our first meet in the kitchen, but sitting this close beside Rafayel is making my tummy weak. I am letting him lead the conversation. I don’t want to ruin this amazing night by saying something stupid. After getting settled, I attempt to dodge the outright question. “How do you think I play with this toy?” I brace, hoping this will sway our conversation in a less embarrassing light for me. He licks his lips and I see a faint pink color roll onto his cheeks. He quietly clears his throat before speaking. “If I am not mistaken, my love, you pleasure yourself with this toy.” I open my mouth slightly and look away, totally in awe of how bold his comment is. Not only does his remark flush my body with a quiet shame, but such a dirty question heard from his sexy voice sparks a quick wetness in my pants. This man can make me choke and pass out on my own air. “Am I right?” He smiles while continuing and cocks his head to the side. “Yes..” I whisper and look down, not sure what else to say. I am not used to anyone talking so vulgar to me, boldly asking what I do in my private time. “Can you show me, princess?”

His sudden words strike me like lightning, my wetness now soaking underneath me. I feel an air of excitement at his suggestion, the fact that he wants to see me play with myself. Another part of me was apprehensive. Would he like my body? As I am lost in the moment, Rafayel leans forward towards me. His hands are on the bed holding him up, and he gives me a tender kiss, tongue slipping into my mouth and blessing me with his sweet, seductive taste. I can’t help but moan into his lips as he places his thumb on my cheek to hold me. “Do you want to show me?” He pauses to ask me with a sweet but mischievous expression. I didn’t realize Rafayel would be so eager to see this happen. I nod and smile, my body happily melting at his words.

He helps me pull my top off, showing my chest. A white, lacey bra is revealed, waiting to say hello to him. I watch his reaction as the whole sweatshirt is removed. His face is even more flushed now, so much so that I feel less embarrassed but empowered to make this pretty man’s cheeks as pink as possible. He suddenly pulls me closer, my knees holding me up on the bed as Rafayel puts his hands on my body. Fingers explore my back and my bralette suddenly unclips. I gasp at the event, my folds tingling in reaction. I need him, I thought. His lips land on the top of my left breast. He begins kissing and I feel a sudden cool air against my nipples as my bra drops. Rafayel stops what he’s doing to admire my chest. “So fucking beautiful, princess,” he says while taking a glance up at me. My hands run through his soft, purple hair, slightly gesturing him to keep going. He sighs a hot, lustful breath onto my chest, making my skin shiver with arousal. He keeps kissing, leaving electrifying splotches all over. He begins licking my nipple, first flicking his tongue to get my reaction. My whimpering had only just begun as he seemed satisfied to take it further. He begins sucking and nibbling. Moans escape my lips, only egging him on more. He sucks one nipple, a “pop” leaving his lips as he rewards the other with the same treatment. Rafayel seems hungry for more. His breaths are deeper, slower. He sits back for a second. “Does my princess want to show me how she pleases herself now?” My underwear is a mess from his touches, his delicious kisses. “Since you’re so eager.” I smile with a new feeling of comfortableness. “Fuck yes,” he replies with a sweet grin. He quickly moves over so I can have room on the small bed beneath us. I take off my leggings, leaving my lower half exposed to him. His eyes soak in the view, and he looks at me as if he just found himself the perfect cup of ice water on a blazing hot day. His eyes beam with desire for my body. “God..” He says, almost speechless. He helps me lie down, my head and back leaning against my headboard. He lies at my feet on his belly. He runs his hands on my thighs, caressing them before slowly opens my legs. “Oh fuck.. “ He bites his lower lip, almost stopping himself from outright devouring me. I notice the lime green vibrator now in his hand. He notices my glance. “Oh, my princess wants to play now, doesn’t she? Tell me, who do you think would be better at pleasing you? Me, or the toy?” He asks. The moment stills only for a second before he breaks the silence. Two long fingers slide deep inside me. I gasp in surprise and catch myself, soon feeling an overwhelming pleasure soon after. “Relax my love, I’ll make it feel good.” He says to me. He starts to pump the digits in a soft but steady pace. His fingers are curved slightly, making every dip deliciously electrifying. My back arches and my body unconsciously shimmies downwards, wanting to help ride his fingers myself. Another jolt of surprise hits me as I hear the buzz of the toy awakened and the bulbous tip touches my sensitive nub. Whimpers leave my lips as the feelings overtake me. Rafayel dips his fingers in and out of me in small bursts, letting the toy overstimulate me. As I feel my body draw closer, he turns the toy off. I breathe out for a second, my head warm from the pleasure. “I love the look on your face, princess. Your pretty hole fits my fingers nicely,” he says while showing me his two digits decorated with my cream. “What a good girl you are taking my fingers. But now it’s my turn in this competition.” He lets the toy leave his hands as it rolls onto the floor somewhere. His face fully flushed with pink as he leans his face down towards my slit.

My stomach tightens as his face inches towards my core. His beautiful lips reaching to taste my juices. A kiss is laid on my clit and his tongue slowly makes its way, circling the nub. His wet lips kiss and suck gently, leaving me to arch my back. He holds my hips down as he continues to explore with his mouth. “God.. you taste so good. You’re all mine.” He says in a busy, mumbled manner. His exploration takes him lower, and soon enough he slides his tongue inside me. In and out, he stretches my delicate hole, tasting more of my wetness. He moans his hot breath onto me as his tongue fucks me, making me grab my own breast in response. Rafayel notices and reaches up to play with my nipple. He pinches gently and twists, leaving me even more a mess as his hot, wet mouth has made its way back to sucking and licking my clit. He begins pumping digits back into me as he eats me. I feel myself getting close to the edge, my ears ringing from pure arousal and my head almost spinning. “That’s right. Good girl. Tell me how good it feels.” He demands from me. “S-So good Raf-f..,” I try to obediently answer, but my body has reached the limit. I see stars as my orgasm arrives. Moans leave me uncontrollably, and tears form in my eyes. I lie still for a moment, letting my body come down from this high. Still panting and legs shaking, I look at Rafayel. He begins leaning against the wall, sitting on the bed. He has his fingers in his mouth that were previously drenched with my wetness. He’s sucking on them and suddenly, I notice his pants are undone. He reveals a curved length with a pink, bulbous tip. Precum is spilled down onto his fingertips as he wraps his hand around his own cock. He moans, “mmm”, removing his fingers from his mouth after tasting me. He starts pumping himself, fast and hard. His breathing hot and a beam of sweat leaving his forehead. He looks my way and continues, “Such a beautiful mess you are, cumming all over my fingers-s like that. You’re such a naughty girl, only for me..mm.” Not long after, I sense he’s about to release. His face flushed in sweat and swirls of pink. I hurry and lean over his length, ready to help. “Oh, my princess wants a taste? Gonna be a good girl and swallow me whole?” My lips reach his tip and a long, sweet squirt fills my mouth. I feel Rafayel grunt and shake a bit as he releases. His panting and breathing relaxes as he finishes. I swallow what’s left of his decadent cream. He immediately offers me his hoodie sleeve to wipe my mouth and kisses my cheek.

After our long, steamy session had ended, Rafayel grabs all the pillows he can find and fluffs them. Wrapping his arms around me, we lie our heads down. He snuggles against me, and says kindly, “I hope I fulfilled all your wishes tonight.” “You did,” I replied and turned to face him. My eyes get heavy and teardrops start to form at the base. “I just wish this night could last forever. I am sure you have to leave soon..right? It’ll be so lonely with you gone.” I ask with a sigh as a tear falls slowly down my cheek. His pinkish-blue eyes look at me sadly. This whole night had been magical. Totally unexpected, but experiencing a night with Rafayel in real life made me feel so elated that I would be heartbroken to see him leave. He places his thumb on my cheek and wipes my tear. He caresses me. “My love, you have never been alone. I have always been here for you, even if it was just through a screen. And remember, your birthday isn’t over yet. Anything you wish for I will make happen, just for you.

So now, I promise. I will never leave your side.” He says, kissing my forehead.

[vomitspit2]

concept with floyd leech. (expansion from the mafia universe, pre-NARC)

shit hits the fan frequently in floyd's life.

that is how it has always been. an accumulation of monkey doo-doo that is thrown into the fan blades that lead to things like cars exploding into fiery wrecks, new hues of purple bruises and red cuts on his skin, and tender cheek kisses from the grim reaper. he likes it like this. every day, he gets a little taste of death.

this time, he has taken too big of a bite.

he realizes it on the cusp of weaving in and out of death and life's doors. the epiphany settles in when the cut along the left side of his face is deep enough he can stick his tongue out of it. and, the truth of it is thrown in his face when his captors leave him -- floyd fucking leech -- in his four-walled prison with a gun, not to break himself out but rather 'if you truly won't tell us the information, here's this. we'll allow you the mercy of getting to kill yourself.'

they might as well just take out their cocks and piss on him. this is humiliating. this is beneath him. this is ... going to be the end of the line.

cheek on the grimy ground, he reflects upon that. at least every day, tasting the faint lipstick of the grim reaper under his teeth, he lived how he wanted to, did it his way as good old frank sinatra said.

floyd is humming to himself that jazz tune as he watches pinwheels of colors swirl in his vision and little fireworks of black pop in the skies of a blackout creeping up on him.

jade's gonna be pissed. azul's gonna bitch and bargain. mama's gonna cry. pop's gonna deny. you're gonna ...

you're probably gonna be fine. you and floyd don't know each other that well. you've only known each other for two months. most of that time has been spent going at it like rabbits. the pillow-talk is zilch. not really a relationship of substance where you would have any reason to grieve him.

if anything you're just gonna be sad that you're not getting your world rocked in bed ... floyd huffs a humorless laugh at that. at least the sex was great, mind-blowing chemistry from that first night and he has yet to grown bored.

floyd closes his eyes, cheek leaking an oil puddle of red, trying to conjure up a memory from over these previous two months. if he is going to finally bite the dust, he wants his thoughts to be filled with nothing but the euphoric memory of an orgasm as he bounces you on his cock. a good memory to blanket his dying mind with.

that is not what comes to floyd's mind. instead, he is remembering you sitting criss-cross in your panties, feeding your bunny oswald. floyd stands by your kitchen island, digging earwax out with his shower towel, dripping on your vinyl floor. he watches in the small visible space, bordered by your thigh and elbow, as oswald nibbles up piece after piece of kale. you don't talk to him, expecting him to leave soon.

dying on a warehouse's filthy floor, floyd watches you, entranced in his brain with this continuous motion of you handing piece after piece of kale to oswald. in his mind, the bowl never empties or loses its weight of fullness.

your back is pretty, your hair after sex is nice, your panties are a cute color, you're a real good person who deserves a boyfriend.

i kinda wanna know more about them ... the thought causes his eyes to pop open. all that he sees is a lime-green that bounces in watery waves. it surprises floyd greatly, that sudden thought that he's never had before.

he falls into the thought softly ... i wonder if they have hobbies ... when did they get a bunny ... i wonder i wonder i wonder ... he is still wondering when he puts a new piercing into his captor's chest. he wonders all the way home, wonders what’s your favorite food, do you hate a certain type of entertainment genre, are you a silver or gold jewerly-wearer? he wonders more and more questions — favorite sport; pet-peeves; any special talent like being double-jointed or tying knots in cherry stems, any stupid small things about you he yearns to learn — while azul's doctor (paid with generous hush money) stitches the hole in his face back up.

he holds all his questions until after a week later, after he has given you your second orgasm and him his first orgasm. he is pulling out, flopping on the right side of the mattress, closest to the exit like always.

you are not unnerved by this, panting and soaking in the moment, you barely even look at him.

you jump out of your skin when you feel a finger tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "what are you doing," you gasp, partly from exhaustion and partly from bewilderment.

"hey, shrimpy," your booty call starts slowly and sweetly, "ya got any hobbies?"

it is such a surprising question that you laugh ... until you realize, unnerved, that he is being serious. he is looking at you with round, puppy-dog eyes, waiting to soak in all the information you are going to give him.

you shouldn't tell him anything. information is valuable, you know that. but, there is something in his handsome face that makes you take the leap.

you can't help but be a little loose tongued as you shift onto your side, bare chest squishing on the mattress, a heartbeat pulse between your legs, and both hands sandwiched under your cheek.

"yeah, i do. i like to --"

and that's how it starts.

sometimes, you think you should have kept your mouth shut.

[cheezritsu]

The story of how you and Reo Mikage became friends isn’t overly exciting, but it’s a necessary tangent. A precursor, really.

Reo is a collector of impossible things. Call it a byproduct of being rich. His favorite things of all are the things he can’t have. He plays soccer as a dream; a sport he has no business being in as it brings no value to his future fortune. His best friend is a reclusive giant who seems to barely tolerate him. Which, eh. Nagi is his treasure—he’s the person that never bullshits him, the person who says what he’s thinking no matter what. Nagi feels like a compass the same way you do: if Nagi truly hates it, it’s probably worth letting go.

You and Nagi are alike in so many ways: you’re something he took the time to dig in the dirt for, only to polish it and realize it’s precious. A friend he shouldn’t have because your social status deems it so. A treasure born from nothing but whim. Something to chase. Something he can love.

Reo Mikage loves you both, which is why when Reo meets Nagi for the first time, he makes you go to karaoke together.

He’s an actual idiot for making the quietest people he knows go to karaoke, but he lets you bring your friends to be comfortable and invites his entire soccer team for Nagi. “For” being the operative word here. None of this is for either of you. It’s all for Reo.

You don’t mind. Not really. You love Reo too. Reo escapes to you and Aiura’s dorm when he doesn’t wanna go home. Which, with the ongoing soccer drama, has been more frequent. You’re in the same class again, this time sitting next to each other. Reo really is a prince that way, protecting you from gossip and bullies, brandishing his smile the way one uses a rapier. Efficiently and lethally. Aiura also sits next to you, but it’s been the Reo show since school started.

Aiura twirls the boba straw in her drink as you stare absently at Reo. Your karaoke room is—shocker—the biggest one they have. It’s decked out in all signature silly decorations. Reo is literally standing atop the huge long table with the rest of his team, the boys loudly singing Fighting Dreamers. They’re moshing and having fun, save for the white haired boy being jostled under Reo’s hooked arm.

“Who’s Snow White?” Aiura jokes, but it’s a good nickname for him. He’s sleepy looking, with low lidded dark eyes and a neutral expression one might only get when they hit the pillow. He blinks slowly and slumps out of Reo’s grip, falling back on the bench and staying there.

“You ever met him before?”

“Nope.”

Hina and Aiura shake their drinks in the same circular motion. The syncronity feels condescending. “Reo seems chummy with him. You for real don’t know him?”

There it is. You roll your eyes. “I don’t know everyone he knows. You know how it is,” you shift your gaze back to the karaoke stage, seeing Reo bleat out the first verse of MCR’s Helena. A personal favorite of his for no reason. His soccer team is cheering relentlessly, like he’s Gerard Way reincarnated.

Reo’s lifestyle is a revolving door of people. You needn’t learn names because in several weeks time, like a micro trend, they’ll be gone.

Aiura hums. Behind her lime green manicured hand she whispers something to Hina, who whispers back.

“Streets is sayin’ that’s Nagi Seishiro.”

The name isn’t familiar. You two just shrug.

“So, another boy?”

“Another boy,” you sigh. Reo didn’t have many girl friends that weren’t girlfriends. You usually liked them, until the feeling was unrequited. They hated your presence and Reo, who was sharper than most gave him credit for, broke up with them when he found out.

“You mean more to me than they do.”

You never let the charming words coil around your heart. Reo was a smooth talker, but at his core he’s just another rich boy. And you haven’t any interest in that.

“I fucking better,” is your reply, with a hardy punch.

These days Reo usually has the company of a soccer team member, some underclass man who thinks the real resume grabber is knowing Reo Mikage. Not a bad thought, but it still makes you frown.

Seishiro Nagi may be another one of those boys. He drinks from his soda cup with a bendy straw, barely moving his neck forward to meet it. The pitch of the room skyrockets as another anime opening scrolls across the screen, and Nagi’s face creases in discomfort. With his eyes pinched closed and a scrunched nose, he looks just like a disgruntled cat. You try to swallow your involuntary giggle, but Aiura and Hina catch it.

Hina stretches her neck. “What’re you giggling about?”

“Nothing,” you garble around a mouth full of boba.

“Don’t try to distract me by grossing me out.”

Aiura narrows her eyes. If a thousand yard stare could be pointed, that’s what she does. “It’s the boy.”

“Reo?” Hina asks, and you snort.

“Since when is Reo “the boy”?”

Hina rolls her eyes. “Since you had a public meet cute in the quad?”

Phlegm probably escapes you from how hard you scoff. “We had a Mexican standoff??”

“Y’all argued at best,” Aiura defends.

“You weren’t evened there!” Aiura bats away your accusatory finger with a quick roll of her eyes. “The point still stands. Reo was never “the boy.” “

“The boy is Nagi Seishiro,” Aiura nods in the direction. Nagi’s fluffy white hair reflects all the lights beautifully, like a neon halo.

“Didn’t Reo throw this party for yall to meet?”

That premise has fully eluded you. “Damn, you’re right.”

“Well he sucks as a host. You should introduce yourself.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he’s leaving.”

The room is a chaotic wonderland of yelling, singing and courting. A few of the players on the team try to flirt with your friends, mostly to no avail. Reo, being the common denominator in some way, fractions his attention to everyone except the guests of honor, who have slipped out under his nose.

It wasn’t your intention to follow Nagi. You really were not going to introduce yourself. You just needed air.

You sit down on the bench just outside the room. The pulsing beat of the next song reverbs out into the empty hallway. It’s kind of soothing to be on the outside again; you’re back in the peripheral, a comfortable spot. Flipping through your phone, you found the otome game currently ruining your wallet; an American based game called The Arcana. You had daily spins to replenish, hopefully a way to get more keys for your story.

You criss cross your legs, settling in. You play the slots first, getting a few coins but no keys. The second game was always a gamble; you had four lives total, meaning four keys to potentially win. You’re good mini games. They’re fun to hone in on and lose yourself in the task. The absolutely gorgeous characters aren’t bad to look at either. You hunch forward to giggle at the little romance scenarios that play out, shutting out the world around you. Shutting out Nagi Seishiro, who stands before you.

Nagi stares at the barely visible sliver of your screen. He thought maybe you were on Instagram or Snapchat, but as it turns out you’re playing something. Something he doesn’t know.

He tilts his head trying to get a better look. Your curly hair blocks his vision of the phone. Nagi has never seen hair like yours in person. It really does look like springs; small, shiny little spirals radiating out from the top of your head. Is it soft? How could it be?

Nagi is so lost in the uzumaki like spirals of your hair that he brings the back of his hand to the top your head and skims his knuckles over it and oh-

It’s fairy soft and defying gravity. The little coil bounces, and Nagi’s about to wrap it around his finger when he looks down.

“Wh-“ your startled gasp reminds him of why he’s here. You’re looking up, and past your chin is your unlocked phone. He’s never seen those characters before; they’re beautifully drawn, and decidedly not Japanese.

“Hey, what game is that?” The same finger that was inches from your head points into your lap. Your brows scrunch.

“What?”

“The game? On your phone?” Nagi gets tired of standing and sits beside you. His thigh brushes against your bare knee and the friction feels like lava. “Is it fun? The graphics are pretty.”

Nagi finally looks at your face. He decides that if you were drawn in that art style it would suit you. Unreal, gravity defying hair, pretty eyes framed with crazy long lashes, and lovely lips with an almost two-toned saturation that draws attention, even though you’re fighting for your next words.

“It’s called The Arcana,” you say, but it’s drawn out like you’re going to say more. Nagi waits, and then hears “Did you just touch my hair?”

“Oh?” Nagi’s lips purse, like a pout but more sheepish. He didn’t think you’d noticed. Well, that was a lie, but he didn’t think you’d care. Don’t girls think stuff like that is cute?

“I’m sure some girls do, but this ain’t a petting zoo.” Shit, he said that out loud. And you’re upset. Fuck. He’s like 100% sure that you’re Reo’s friend. His best friend, the one he’s always talking about. The one he borrows books from that have those colored tabs. The one he’s always buying trinkets for. Like the little phone strap you’ve got with—who is that, is it Itadori Yuji?

“Hey!” There you go again, making Nagi feel bad for not listening. The pout reappears on his face, before he slumps back.

This feels weird. Nagi’s having…emotions now and it sucks. It’s bothersome. But, he doesn’t feel inconvenienced by you, he feels inconvenienced by himself. He’s making himself feel stupid and that’s far worse than sitting next to you.

Nagi’s head hits the wall. “M’sorry,” he slurs lazily, turning his head to properly meet your eyes. “I didn’t mean that. Your hair’s pretty, that’s all.”

Oh. The words are blunt force trauma, the head of a baseball bat butted into your sternum. The perpetual drowsiness in his voice makes it feel more like the truth; someone that tired wouldn’t have it in them to lie, right?

You swallow down the damage done to your heart. “Still doesn’t mean you can touch it without permission.”

“Hmm.” Is all he says, staring vacantly for a second. And then “well, can I?”

You’re either dumb or whipped for saying yes. One is far worse than the other. But Nagi Seishiro is gentle when he plucks out a particular curl and runs it between his fingers. Deftly, sweetly, his finger hooks onto the end of the curl and it twirls around the digit. His hands are much bigger than you initially thought. You’re going cross eyed looking at them.

“That’s cool,” Nagi says, and a small smile graces his features. His eyes are actually grey up close. Smokey, endless, and all at once those sleepy, feline like crescents. “Thanks.”

No one’s ever thanked you for touching your hair. No one’s ever been that reverent about it either. Nagi pulls his hand away like he’s finally been sated, drawing his knees up to mimick your criss crossed legs.

“M’ Nagi, by the way.” His belated introduction is funnier in hindsight. It’s very Nagi; satisfy the curiosity first, then do the regular stuff. “Reo dragged me here.”

“Me too. I’m y/n.”

“Are you going to be around more?”

Nagi’s pulling out his phone. You aren’t sure how to answer his question. You’re pretty much always around, whatever Nagi meant by that. Unless he meant more around him.

There’s a spiking heat under your cheeks, something you don’t wanna bring attention to. He seems to have forgotten your existence, looking down at the loading screen off his App Store. But he doesn’t type anything for a minute. He’s waiting.

Nagi shrugs. “You’re less of a hassle than he is.” His thumb presses up to the search icon. “How do you spell Arcana?”