jaime

now you're wearing your own helmet, his jacket, and riding on the back of his bike with your arms tightly bound around his waist.

protective ! biker bf . . . who spoils you rotten. he wants to treat you to the most lavish of experiences and he'll deliver them to you with you on the back of his bike or take you to those places with you riding on the back of said bike.

the revving of a familiar, loud engine makes you roll out of bed with a pissed off look on your face. you tug the curtains open, looking at your boyfriend at the end of your lawn with your arms crossed over your chest. since he's not that far, you can see how cheesily wide his grin is.

you open the window, knowing that he'll start throwing pebbles at it if you don't, and lean out into the open night air.

"you trying to wake the whole place, luci?" the usage of the nickname shows to him that you're not actually mad at him.

"no, just you, my love," he says, sauntering across the lawn with his hands behind his back, "wanted to give you a late night gift,"

he reveals a huge bouquet of roses that were hiding behind his back.

"luci," your tone is unique; showing that you're flattered and embarassed in the lavish, sweet gift, but also scolding in some sense because of how late it was for him to be doing this.

"[nameee]," he says, in the same candence. he walks over, putting the stems into his mouth and biting down as he works on climbing up to your window. and when he's finally arrived to your heigth, he's handing you the roses with a grin, "for my boy,"

"you're such a romantic," you tease, not finding the will to be mad at him anymore. not when he looks so perfect with his messy hair and smirking face. "c'mere," you say, leaning forward with your hand already on his cheek.

he welcomes the affection with ease, pressing into you and grabbing you by the waist to keep you stationed right where he wants you. it takes smacking his chest to make him let you go, revealing his smirking, proud face on display for you to glare at.

"thank you, baby, they're really pretty," you say, pecking him once more before turning away to set them on the table.

"i got the best out of the bunch for you, pretty boy," he says, kicking off of the window sill and shedding off his jacket and boots. soon, he's collapsing onto your bed and waiting for you to join him, "think i get some cuddles for this grand gesture now."

"oh, do you, really?" you tease, yelping when he suddenly pulls you down to lay with him, laughing as his fingers tickle your sides.

"some cuddles and some more?" he says with a wink, making you roll your eyes.

"shut up."

protective ! biker bf . . . who makes it very obvious you're taken. he's got you two matching jewelry, you're his lockscreen and homescreen, he's your lockscreen (he let you have your homescreen be whatever you wanted it to be...the lockscreen is what mattesr most anyway because that's the one that everyone sees), he's got a bracelet on his wrist with your name spelt out in childish beads, he's got a necklace with a heart locket that has a picture of you two, he has your name tattooed- just kidding, he doesn't...but keep an eye on him because he's been genuinely thinking of getting one.

"baby, you're not wearing it," your supposedly tough boyfriend whines as you're both about to leave, "wear it!" he childishly whines again.

he's talking about his letterman jacket that he got custom made with his last name on the back and the emblem of his biker gang on the back.

it's not a serious group - in the sense they go around causing purposeful trouble, but still he wanted to have some sort of physical proof to show that it was a sentimental thing for him. he never let anyone else wear it, but you and him too.

"i have my own jacket..."

you just killed him. he's writhing on the floor in immense pain as he clutches his chest and cries out for mercy. his dramatic tantrum won't be held over until that jacket is around your shoulders, so you better just put it on to make him shut up.

-

his lockscreen is a photo of you hugging him from behind while he has his helmet on. your kissing the top of the hard shell, a smile on your lips and a masked one on his. it's a selfie, so you're looking right at the camera with a crinkle in your eyes from your wide smile.

his homescreen is a photo of you and him resting in bed. he doesn't have his shirt on so your head is just resting on his bare chest. and you're sleepy, completely unaware of the photo he's taking of you. he's sleepily grinning ear to ear as he looks down at you though, so enamored by how cute you are. if you squint, you can see the initials of your name inked into his collarbone - which is only a couple inches away from where your head is resting.

protective ! biker bf . . . who uses his easily intimidating stance to scare off anyone that comes up to you two. in any situation, he's standing very close by and very ready to bite at anyone that gets too close (metaphorically, of course...).

the tent restaurant you were sitting in had to be one of your favorites. they served the best food, were run by a cute old lady, and had a good crowd surrounding you two. his leather jacket was thrown over your shoulders to keep you warm, since air did keep coming into the place, and he was sat right across from you.

the plastic table had all types of food scattered everywhere and his eyes practically had stars in them.

"which one do you want, babe?" he said, already getting ready to give you a big portion of the food that you both ordered.

you told him which one with a grateful smile, kissing his hand quickly as he was reaching out for some of the delicious food to plate for you. he blushed profusely, cursing you for being so "adorable" and flustering him so much for no reason.

"i just have the best boy-"

"sorry, excuse me, but you dropped your napkin," a stranger passing by said, bending over and picking up the cloth that had fallen from your lap and onto the ground.

you took it from the man's hold, ignoring the way your fingers brushed against his, and politely thanked him.

"thank-"

"here, don't use that one now since it's dirty, babe," lucian says quickly, grabbing it from your hand before you can return it to its previous position. instead, he hands you his and gently smiles, "use mine,"

"what? no, you don't have to," you scold, looking at him with a warning look. you would be fine with your own napkin anyway, plus you didn't want him to eat without one.

the stranger looked at the exchange with a sheepish smile, then directed his next words to you, "if you would like, i could get you another one from a staff member?"

"that would be gr-"

"we don't need your help, man, just scram already," lucian sighs, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. as if he was incredibly stressed with the newcomer.

you kicked him under the table, which he winced and pouted at.

"uhm, don't mind him. and it's alright, i can flag down a waitress so you don't have to worry about it." you said with a kind smile, hoping the guy would take the hint and leave. you knew why lucian was acting up and you would rather not colorfully scold him in front of a stranger.

"if you insist," he kindly returns the smile before taking his leave, scattering away when he notices your boyfriend glaring at him through his hand that was covering his face.

immediately, you reach over and pinch lucian's cheek and tug hard, "are you serious? you fucking man-baby,"

"i'm sorrryyy," he drawls out, the tone of his voice shaking as you tug and wiggle his cheek in contempt.

-

-

"why don't you want me to come?" he whines, his voice on the other end of the phone call sounding exactly like heartbreak, "baby, i can go there quick-"

"i've already said no, elliot," you sigh, rubbing your forehead as you unlock your car, "you have classes, i know you do. you showed me your schedule last week, don't skip those classes,"

he whines again, sounding like a puppy that just got kicked. his needy sounds only grow louder at your silence, "but, why? i wanna go with you!"

"you can't, you can't miss your classes this semester. you got in a lot of trouble last time-"

"it doesn't matter! my professors don't care for attendence!"

"are you lying to me?"

there is a pause and that is enough to answer your question.

"i'm sorry, eli, but no," you're about to hang up, but falter as you feel bad for being so hard on him. but seriously! someone had to, or else he'd only get worse. your boyfriend practically wanted to live in your skin with you and it was beginning to be really concerning.

"i just want to spend time with my boyfriend, why won't you let me?" he pleads and you hear a locking of a door and can only assume he went to the bathroom for privacy in his upcoming breakdown, "do you not want to see me? are you hiding something?"

"i'm not and that's the truth, i just really need to go and buy groceries." you say calmly, already familiar with this routine.

"then why?! why can't i come? why? why don't you want to see me?" he questions, voice getting weaker and weaker. you can't see it, but he begins sliding down the door of the bathroom, stressfully running a hand through his hair. he begins hyperventilating. "why don't you want me with you?"

"we can see each other after my errands and after your classes," you explain, trying to tough it out even though your empathy is telling you to pity the man.

"[name], i really need to see you, please, please just let me come," he breathes out, words becoming a stuttering mess that is hard to understand through the phone, "please, let me see you, beautiful boy, please, please, please,"

he begins repeating the word "please" over and over again and at that point you begin wondering if it's even worth it to keep arguing with him over this. he's only going to get more adament in coming along. you curse yourself for even texting him that you were busy a couple of minutes ago because that is what made this reaction occur.

"[name], you're going to get hurt doing that," he lightly scolds you, easily pulling you away from whatever it was that you were going. his inhumane strength makes it easy for him to drag you away.

"bailee, are you serious? the vending machine just ate my money! the drink had to get out of there somehow!" you complained, looking at the drink that was caught at an angle that stopped it from falling down to the latch. you were smacking the plastic glass to make it budge, to no avail.

bailee, however, saw it as you bringing bodily harm onto yourself and refused to stand by and watch any longer. hence why he took action in physically pulling you away.

"do you need ointment?" he asks, ignoring your annoyed scolding.

"i don't need ointment, i need my drink, you asshole!"

yan ! best friend . . . who makes it very obviously known that he's been the closest person in your life and knows the most about you. it's his way of establishing dominance on those nobodies that think they're your "friends" they don't know anything about you. they don't know you like he does. to think that they're under the impression that they do, though, makes him go absolutely crazy.

"[name] doesn't like that sauce on his food," bailee snarls, grabbing your order from the person's hands, "what do you think you're doing? are you trying to ruin his meal? do you not want him to eat? fucking bitch, i knew you were up to no good,"

your "friend" stands there, sputtering as they try to find the right words.

"what? you didn't know that he doesn't like that?" bailee taunts, rolling his eyes at the end as his arms bulge underneath the rolled up sleeves in anger, "of fucking course you wouldn't! you'd never be able to understand him the way i do."

what was supposed to be a relaxed day at the mall with you, bailee, and a handful of other friends turned into bailee scaring away all the other nobodies away and ending the day with you and him together.

another time bailee asserted his dominance as your best, one and only. friend was whenever he talks about you to other people. one time, there was someone that had tried slithering their way into your life and he was not having it.

bailee had entered your home with a spare key that you had given him, eager to just lay down in your bed and sleep away his stresses. balancing work and school has been stressful lately and the only proper way bailee can relax is by resting in your bed.

but why the fuck was the first thing he hears when he walks in your beautiful, melodic laughter, paired with the annoying sound of someone else's. he grits his teeth, kicking off his shoes in respect of your home, and clenches his fist by his side.

when he turns the corner into the kitchen/dining room area, he sees you sitting at the table with some random stranger sitting beside you. his eye visibly twitches at the sight.

"oh!" he breathes out, taking in the scene and forcing himself to count to 10 to calm down. "who's this, [name]?"

"oh, this is my group mate from uni. we just passed our final with the highest grade in the entire class, so i invited him over to celebrate. we got some good takeout and a cheap cake from the store to eat later!" you say with a lighthearted smile, not at all sensing the panic, dread, and rage coursing through your best friend's veins, "oh, you know all three of us were actually in the same middle school class! turns out ryan here was one of the 70 other kids in our grade!"

bailee forces a smile as he can barely keep his composure. this guy was someone you two had connections to since middle school...

'well, he hasn't known you since elementary like i have so that makes his value absolutely fucking worthless,' he thinks to himself, a bitter grin on his face.

"wow, that's really crazy how the world works," bailee laughs, looking in between you and shitface ryan with a blank look on his face. the two of you were sitting awfully close. that couldn't have been how the seats were set up to begin with..."uhm, [name] can i talk to you really quick?"

you nod immediately, telling ryan you'lll be back in a couple of minutes and bailee almost barfs at the sound of it. almost as if you're nuturing him like some father - as if you cared about him, that piece of shit ryan.

"i was kind of hoping we'd have the house to ourselves today. work and school have been really hard lately and i wanted to relax, y'know?" bailee says, resting his hands on his hips as he puts in the bare minimum in acting fatigued so that you could agree to kick ryan out.

"oh, we can stay in my room then, that way you can properly rest in yours! we will be quiet, i promise and we won't get in your way,"

bailee almost punches the wall in anger. let that absolute stranger be in a room alone with you? no fucking chance. his breathing got heavier as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched the fist at his side.

"no, that's not what i meant. i mean, i want us to spend my off day together. i need you, [name], please. i'm so tired i just need to recharge with you," bailee grabs your hand in his, mustering up a smile, "just me and my favorite boy. what do you say?"

you seem hesitant so he drives the point home with: "i just feel like we've been drifting recently. i never see you anymore..." that was completely untrue, bailee makes sure to be stuck onto you with every passing second. unless he's at work or school. so he used that as his excuse, knowing it was at least somewhat beleviable.

"but lee, i really did promise ryan-"

"promises with ryan are more important than our bond?" he asks, a hollow look in his eyes as he tries understanding what it was exactly that you were saying. "is that how you feel, [name]?"

immediately, you deny the accusation and he goes on to guilt trip you from there. he never feels good doing that to you, but there's no other way for you to see it from his perpsective.

needless to say, ryan was kicked out when you returned to the kitchen and you and bailee spent the rest of the day sitting on the couch, centimeters apart from each other, and laughing your asses off until the sun set. and when it was time to sleep, he selfishly brought you on top of him to feel your body against his.

reminder that you chose him and he told himself that you would always choose him. he was your best friend, after all. you two know each other the best.

yan ! best friend . . . who is your personal guard dog. he's actually a really sweet, kind, and considerate person!!!!...only for you. everyone else he could give less of a shit about. he slams the door behind him for every room he walks into because he knows you're not walking behind him. he doesn't give a shit about how he treats the general population of people because they're not you.

"watch where you're going you fucker," he sneers at someone as they had accidentally bumped into him, vs. "[name], c'mon, hold my hand. the place is really crowded we might get seperated from each other. and you know how i get whenever we get seperated."

"i'm not paying for my meal? this shit tasted so bad, i don't even wanna give them my money for how terrible it was! blegh!" after an outing with friends suggest that he pay his portion of the bill (as one normally should...) vs, "[name]! don't even think about paying! look, i can pay for our meal and then some dessert after. it's my treat so just put your wallet away!!"