#ft. blue.

[llkehoney]

𝖙𝖝𝖙 * / blue

honey: hello , queen.

honey: whenever you're done being a good student we need to hang out.

honey: i need to talk to you about something.

[sugartclking-archived]

continued from here ( @softnspiteful )

Kamari's jaw tightened, dark eyes still locked on the guy like he was running game in his own damn highlight reel. But then he heard her — voice smooth as silk with just enough bite to remind him she wasn't anyone's to claim, except his. He let out a short breath, something between a laugh and a scoff, and finally pulled his eyes back to her. His girl. Not some fan. Not some follower. His. "You say that, but if looks could talk, his would be beggin'. Probably thinkin' he'd have a shot if I wasn't in the picture," he grumbled quietly, sliding his thumb over the back of Blue's hand slowly and possessively as if he was reminding himself she was right here. Kamari shook his head, but there was something softer behind his eyes now; something a little more vulnerable perhaps. "I know what I got, I just hate when people look at you like you're for everybody." He looked at her then, squeezing her hand gently. "You're not" His fingers wrapped around Blue's in order to ground himself in the heat of her skin. "You walk in a room and people forget how to act, B. I get it, I do. But I'm not tryna share what's mine… Not even with a stare." And just like that, his lips curled, just barely, but it was there. "He don't get a close up? Good. 'Cause the only thing he's seein' tonight is me walkin' out with the star."

[womanlv]

CLOSED STARTER @sorbetkisses .

“fucking .. — of course.” he lets out a wild laugh, half nervous irony and half frustration. oliver slams his fist against the front door that refuses to budge. “looks like we aren’t going anywhere any time soon, princess.” he settles a glare in blue’s direction before shifting his gaze over to the side. he can’t even look at her, this is .. this is fucked up. he doesn’t know who it is that’s playing games with them like this but the second they show their face he’s going to fuck them up. there’s nothing he wants less than to be at this stupid party but being near her is almost beating it. he needs a drink. oli shoulders past her back into the kitchen, leaving their friends in the living room, grabbing an unopened beer from the counter and using the pocket knife in his back pocket to open it before testing the kitchen window — unmoving. “what is this, a fucking 80′s movie?” he mumbles to himself, feels his anxiety spark in the background but pushing it down to deal with it later. actually freaking out about this isn’t going to do them any good.