The Hidden Stash

T. Touya | Toxic

REQUESTED by RoseyClown_
Contains: Bottom!Reader, mentions of addiction, blowjob, kinda blood, rough sex, pain kink, burning/melting skin lol
----

"I'm not in the mood for an argument." You groan as your boyfriend, Touya, yells at you again. He's constantly up your ass about your alcohol problem. Sure drinking as much as you do is bad and you could very well die from alcohol poisoning within the year, but you just couldn't stop. You're addicted to it and his yelling isn't exactly helping that. Especially when he's addicted to smoking just as badly... he denies that though.

You've become accustomed to this, his yelling. You drown it out by focusing on the actor on TV and wait till he gives up and stomps into his room. But it seems he's persistent today, "So what?! You need to stop drinking so much, it's ruining us! I have to take up two jobs just to satisfy your fucking drinking problem- and even then we're barely passing by!" He goes on and on about your financial situation and complaining about this and that... it's all the same, everyday he says the same shit. It's draining.

You stand up from the musty initially-white couch, the years of smoking and not-properly-cleaned stains turned it brown though. With a deep sigh you pick up your mess of beer bottles that litter the area and toss them in the trash. Your vision goes black from the sudden standing so you lean against the head of the couch and wait to regain your balance. A headache begins to form as Touya continues his lecturing. The couch creaks as you push off it and walk towards the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, you grab a cup and start filling it up with water then head to the medicine cabinet to grab some Ibuprofen.

Touya yells at you again as you down the meds, "ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?! CAN YOU AT LEAST TRY TO CARE??" He grabs your shoulder roughly. You just shrug him off and push past him and head back into the living room, your head still fuzzy from before. The noise of the TV starts getting to your ears and enrages your headache so you begin to dig through the cushions of the couch to find the remote. After turning over nearly every single one, you find it lying innocently on the table. With a grunt, you grab it and power off the television.

Springs pop as you toss yourself on the couch, your head on your hand as you stare at the blank screen of the TV trying to ease your overwhelming headache. "Do you even care? Can you even comprehend the shit I do for you?! You should be thankful and yet this is the treatment I get?!" He sighs dejectedly and finally its silent, the anger that was slowly boiling up has begun to calm down. You know where he's coming from, you know his pain but your ego is too fucking high for you to admit it out loud. He shuffles and mutters aloud, "Honestly why am I still with you. All you do is treat me like shit."

You can't help but feel heartbroken at that sentence. Your anger overflows and you mutter a cold response, "Then leave." The air conditioner kicks on and fills the silence, "No one's stopping you. If you hate me that much then just fucking leave." Seventeen eerily silent seconds pass. The light flickers above you and you lean back in your seat tiredly, closing your eyes to stop the burning of the light from irritating your headache even more.

A chair screeches across the floor loudly. The floor creaks and cracks against his footsteps, the old house you lived in was barely standing and you were lucky it's still somewhat livable. Oddly enough, instead of heading out the door his  footsteps stop in front of you. Your ears pick up his heavy breathing before you're suddenly pulled to your feet, his fist tightly grasps the neck of your shirt as he lifts you up. Your eyes widen in shock and you stumble up, when you look at him his face is full of emotions that you can't seem to pinpoint. "What the fuck?" You half yell and half mutter at the sudden movement.

For a moment his eyes lock with yours, you stare at one another and let the tension slowly dwindle. You open your mouth to speak but his lips encase yours in a rough kiss. Like all your kisses before, it's addicting and heated. His smoky scent fills your senses and his chapped lips scrape against your soft ones. Despite your differences, you can never seem to get enough of each other.