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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Ten-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Throat Fucking, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Humiliation, Begging, Gagging, Oral (f & m rec), Spanking/Belting, Sexual Punishment, Sexual Aggression, CNC, DubCon.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Dread gripped your insides, twisting like a coiled snake ready to strike. The weight of the impending confrontation pressed upon you, a leaden heaviness settling deep in your stomach. Last night had been sleepless, the weight of Mattheo's threat lingering in your mind like a haunting spectre. It wasn't necessarily fear that gnawed at your insides, but a potent blend of anxiety and worry.

The mere thought of Mattheo retaliating against last nights events, potentially drawing his brother Tom into an even deeper tangled web of suspicion, sent shivers down your spine. You knew Tom was already suspicious, already clearly had some sort of inclination about what was going on between you and his brother, and fear sunk its talons into your neck just thinking about what could happen if Mattheo lashed out at him again after last night. The timing would just be all too convenient to happen twice in a row like that.

In the hushed confines of the empty classroom, as you awaited Mattheo's attendance for Wednesday's tutoring session, every second seemed to stretch into eternity. The air hung heavy with anticipation, your breaths shallow and hurried--every creak of the floor beneath your restless pacing echoed like an ominous drumbeat. Your heart thudded in your chest, its frantic rhythm reverberating in your throat, each pulse a reminder of the impending confrontation. Fingers, usually steady, now trembled with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, tangible proof of the mounting tension in your chest.

But then, before you could even process it, the door creaked open, the sound slicing through the heavy silence in the room like a warning. You turned, your heart skipping a beat when you saw Mattheo's disheveled figure framed by the dim light filtering in from the corridor. His white dress shirt was stained with patches of blood, his appearance marred by the evidence of a recent altercation. His eyes, normally sharp and piercing, were now ablaze with a fierce intensity, burning with emotions that he kept tightly concealed.

As he stepped inside, the atmosphere seemed to shift, the air growing thick and suffocating. Each movement he made was deliberate, calculated, as if he was conducting an unspoken symphony of power and control. With a fluid motion, he started to loosen his tie, his hands moving with a grace that contrasted sharply with the aggressive energy radiating from him. The room seemed to shrink in his presence, the walls closing in as if acknowledging his dominance.

You stood frozen, your gaze locked onto his, unable to tear yourself away despite the unsettling mixture of emotions that gripped you. Mattheo's gaze bored into yours, his eyes holding a storm of emotions--anger, frustration, and something deeper, something you couldn't quite pinpoint. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily between you, the silence ringing in your ears like a deafening roar, suffocating the space and leaving you feeling like you were standing on the edge of a precipice.

With each step he took toward you, the energy in the room grew more electric, his presence overwhelming. The intensity of his stare made it hard to breathe, as if he could see right through you, peeling away layers until your soul lay bare before him. It was a confrontation without words, a battle fought in the silent language of unspoken emotions, and you stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to break free from the magnetic pull of his furious gaze.

Your voice quaked. "Mattheo-"

"No," he said, cutting you off, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. "No talking, Raven, not tonight."

You felt a lump forming in your throat, a mixture of frustration and confusion bubbling within you. You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the words that begged to spill out, but his resolute demeanor silenced any protests before they could escape your lips. As Mattheo came to a halt directly in front of you, his bloodied emerald Slytherin tie sitting loosely around his neck now--he wasted zero time before he seized your hips with a motion as swift as a striking snake, his grip so strong it felt like your bones might shatter within his grasp.

Every muscle in your body coiled like a tightly wound spring, bracing for whatever the fuck he'd do next, but nothing could prepare you for the feeling that would erupt through you as he leaned in--inhaling a sharp breath, his exhale hot against the sensitive skin of your neck. The sharp scent of alcohol wafted from him, swirling around you, adding to the already charged atmosphere.

His head dipped, finding the hollow of your shoulder, his dark, curly hair grazing your skin like a whispering caress. A shiver traced the length of your spine as his proximity engulfed you, leaving you both exhilarated and trapped in the potent grip of his presence. You swallowed, trying to steady your trembling fingers that hung limply at your sides.

"You're drunk..." you managed to utter, your voice barely audible in the charged air around you. It was fucking Wednesday. "What happened to exercising your demons, Mattheo..."

"Oh, I am," Mattheo murmured against your neck, his lips brushing your skin in a heated caress. "I got them running around the castle right now, doing laps...."

Despite his effort to suppress his fury with cunning sarcasm, the energy radiating from him was palpable, a stormy intensity that crackled in the air around you. His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could feel the weight of his words settle on your skin.

"I...you..." you stammered, your voice barely audible, your mind a chaotic whirlwind of emotions. His proximity was overwhelming, his strange demeanour leaving you entirely at a loss for words--yet there was one thought that seemingly wouldn't leave your mind. "Matt...please tell me this blood isn't from Tom..."

"I said no fucking talking, Raven..." Mattheo's fingers dug into your skin, a painful pinch that threatened to draw a cry from your lips. A sharp gasp escaped you as he swiftly maneuvered his hand around your back, his fingers asserting a firm, possessive hold on your ass. "That mouth only has one fucking purpose tonight...it's been far too long since I've had those pretty lips around my cock..."

Mattheo's presence was a blazing inferno, searing heat that enveloped you entirely, making your skin prickle with anticipation. He maneuvered you both with an unyielding force, guiding you until the edge of the desk met your ass, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. Both of his hands, firm and possessive, found their place on your backside, pulling you snugly against his muscular frame. A sense of foreboding settling deep within your lungs, a weighty anticipation that gripped your every breath.

Despite the palpable tension, you couldn't resist the compulsion to probe further, pushing his boundaries even as the atmosphere crackled with escalating intensity.

"Mattheo, please..." your voice brushed against his cheek like a gentle breeze, your fingers winding into his hair, pulling on the tousled strands in an urgent plea to lock eyes, your heart racing with anxiety. "Please just give me an answer...Tom was skeptical-"

With a sudden, unsettling intensity, Mattheo's demeanor transformed--whatever restraint he was previously maintaining had now completely vanished as he swiftly pivoted you around, his hands unrelenting as he pressed your hips forcefully against the desk. The cool wood bit into your skin as he loomed behind you, his body molding to yours with possessive insistence. One hand coiled around your throat, pulling you back against his chest, while the other traveled up the front of your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"Say his fucking name again and I will not hesitate to bend you over this desk and fuck you until the only name you remember is mine..." he pulled you impossibly close, his breath a sultry growl against your ear. "You'll be so fucking full of me, Raven...you'll be so fucking full of my cum you'll feel fucking empty without it...you'll fucking crave my cock...you'll be begging for me to get inside you..."

His free hand explored your body, its fingers skillfully finding every contour, moving purposefully to your tits, caressing and squeezing once he'd reached them. He pulled you tighter, hugging you flush to his front, his insistent erection pressing tight against your ass. A delightful buzz tingled on your skin from his grip around your throat, rendering you utterly helpless, and all that escaped your lips was a soft, pathetic whimper, surrendering to his control.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" He murmured, the alcohol on his tongue swarming your ear. "You're all I can fucking think about."

The words brought a wave of heat crashing over your body.

"Matt-" you said, fighting against his hand, his name hiccuped between your gasp for air when he increased his grip. “-thèo..."

"You fucking haunt me," he said, jerking his hips into your ass, his painfully hard length jamming into your backside. You whimpered as the force of his pelvis drove you harder against the desk. "I've made myself cum to the mere thought of fucking you so many times, Raven...fuck, if you were any other slut I would have fucked you stupid by now..."

His voice was dark and deadly, so quiet that you were almost certain you weren't hearing him correctly, the pounding of your heart drowning out the edges of his syllables, his hand working to untuck your blouse from your skirt before slipping underneath it--igniting goosebumps on your flesh as he went.

"Oh..." the word was a moan as it left your lips, his fingers brushing over your stiffening nipple. "Shit-"

The fingers at your throat increased their pressure, choking your words. "I told you I have a clamouring fucking desire to ruin you...and believe me, I do...but it's not enough to just ruin you, Raven...It's like I need to fucking own you, possess you...there can't be anyone else..."

In defiance of your good judgment, you clenched, a shiver of longing fluttering over you. Mattheo's large palm squeezed your other tit now, kneading it in his hand until he could feel the peak of your nipple. His thumb brushed over it, and you held back a whine, wriggling against him.

"Mattheo-" his name left your lips like a breathless sin, as though it was the only word your pathetic, lust-filled mind knew how to say.

"You know I could be with any girl I fucking want, Raven...any single fucking one..." he murmured, circling the hardening point with the pad of his finger, sparks of pleasure lingering in its path. "I seen your little friend looking at me the other day...what's her head like, hm?"

Ignoring the squirming in between your thighs, you rolled your eyes, a flutter of uncontrollable irritation flowing through you. "Go to hell-"

He answered your snark with another harsh jab of his bulge. "Yeah, you don't like that, do you..." the hand on your throat slid up to pinch your jaw open, two fingers shoving past your teeth and depressing your tongue. You caught a gag when he reached toward the back of your throat. "You wouldn't like it if there was another girl kissing me good night, would you? Another girl sucking me off...swallowing my cum..."

You tried to call him an asshole, but all that came out was, "Ah-houh."

"Mhm, I know..." he snickered, pressing further into your body, hunched over you like you were his next meal. "You're going to fix that situation with my brother, or else I will...you have one fucking week..."

Your heart hammered, your pulse flying, your body trembling against him. His teeth nipped your ear, your head spinning with the onslaught of his power.

"Because this..." this hand on your breast made a path toward the band of your skirt, and you shuddered, bucking away from his touch when he skimmed the sensitive skin of your belly.

"...little cunt..." his hand slipped under the seam of your panties, long, thick fingers easily reaching the warmth of your slit, resting on the outer folds, and you whimpered, wiggling your hips as you sought out his touch.

"...is mine..." one finger parted your lips, slicking itself on your wetness, dragging and catching over your swollen, stiff clit and pulling a low moan from your throat.

You were gelatin in his arms. All you could do was bob your head against his grip, tongue writhing to speak.

"Yeah, that's fucking right..." he said, tracing tiny circles around your clit while his length pressed against your ass. "This tight little pussy wants to cum for me, doesn't it?" You groaned--louder than you wanted--when he sped his pace on your nub, and he squeezed your jaw, voice a deep growl against your ear. "Then you better prove you deserve it."

He relinquished his hold on you, his fingers slowly sliding away from you body as he took a deliberate step back. This subtle retreat granted you just enough space to pivot back towards him. In the dim light, his eyes appeared as profound as the obsidian night, their intensity softened by an unexpected vulnerability. It was a facet of him you had never glimpsed, hidden beneath the layers of his usual overbearing arrogance.

A hushed tension hung in the air as his gaze descended to trace the contours of your lips, a magnetic pull drawing him toward you. His own lips, parted with anticipation, met yours in a tender yet fervent kiss--a languid grace encompassing the way he explored your mouth, a delicate dance that left you breathless. The lingering taste of alcohol on his tongue only heightened the intoxicating sensation, sending your senses reeling as he skillfully slipped past your teeth, all before pulling away again.

"Get on your knees for me, pretty girl..." he murmured, his hand finding your hair and directing your head down, a huff of exasperation leaving his nose as you did what he said without question. "There we go...so good for me..."

As you knelt before him, your heart thundered in your chest, its beats so forceful you feared it might shatter your sternum. Perplexed, you couldn't pinpoint the source of your unease. It wasn't the first time you'd assumed such a position for Mattheo Riddle, yet an unfamiliar tension hung in the air tonight. His unpredictable demeanor had your entire body on edge, amplifying your nervousness to an unprecedented level.

"We're going to do things a little different tonight..." he purred, his hand in your hair pulling away to stroke your cheek with two rough fingers as he peered down at you, dark eyes burning wounds into your skin. "Unbutton your shirt for me."

Your heart skipped, your senses reeling, but with trembling fingers, you immediately did as he said, as though you were being controlled by a remote in his hands. Mattheo hummed in approval as you got down to the last few buttons, his eyes never once leaving yours, the muscles in his jaw clenching and his throat bobbing as he swallowed. When you were done, you met his eyes again, the intensity making your thighs clench in need, and a smirk teased his lips as he reached for the tie sitting loose around his neck; holding it between his battered fist.

When he spoke again, you almost fainted. "Take off my belt, princess..."

A visceral tension gripped you, twisting your stomach into a knot so tight it felt like your insides might unravel. Your hands trembled like fragile autumn leaves in the wind as you reached for the metal latch on his sturdy leather belt. With cautious fingers, you tugged, undoing the buckle carefully and pulling on it until it slithered free from around his waist. Gripping it tightly in both hands, you met his gaze once more, your eyes locking, accompanied by enough force to shatter glass.

Mattheo delicately lifted the tie, guiding it towards your mouth with a gentle touch, your lips parting in a silent understanding. He skillfully threaded it between them, the smooth fabric caressing your skin. With practiced hands, he wrapped it around the back of your head, the silk cool against your skin. With a deft motion, he fashioned it into a comfortable knot, ensuring it held securely, before he bent down and gripped your arm, pulling you back up to your feet.

"Bad girls get punished, Raven..." he murmured, his lips grazing your jawline, one hand on your hip, the other reaching for the leather seated in your hands. "Take your punishment like the good girl I know you are, and I'll reward you..."

As the leather slipped from your hands, Mattheo pulled back, something flickering behind his eyes that made your stomach leap up into your throat. He met your gaze, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or fear, before he urged you to spin around.

"Bend over the desk," he husked, running his hand up your back, the gentle touch igniting flames on your flesh as he urged you down against the desk, the cool chill of the wood igniting a shudder through your entire body. "Down on your elbows...there we go..."

Mattheo groaned, low in his chest, the sound reverberating through the quiet room. Drool was already threatening to spill from the sides of your lips, the taste of blood lingering in your mouth as the bloodied tie sat tightly between your teeth--your breath hitching in your lungs as you felt two large hands run down the sides of your body, tracing your curves with determination as he positioned himself behind you, pressing his bulge against your ass until his hands met your hips and he pulled away; finding the hem of your skirt and slowly flipping it up to expose your backside, wasting absolutely zero time at all before his hands found the plump flesh, squeezing and groping like his life depended on it.

"Fucking hell, Raven..." he groaned, his voice tight and hoarse with need. "You look so fucking good bent over...I wish I could keep you here, just like this..."

You moaned involuntarily, a tornado of emotions swirling inside your brain. You felt as though you were in sensory overload, so many firsts happening at once.

"Spread those thighs," a calloused palm dipped between your legs, urging them further apart, your fingernails digging into the skin of your palms, your entire body trembling as the heat of Mattheo's power turned suffocating. "Good fucking girl..."

Your breath hitched, feeling his thumb grazing dangerously close to your cunt, resisting the urge to buck toward his hand--desperate for connection. The heat between your thighs was insatiable at this point, and the teasing was driving you insane. Snapping you from your thoughts, there was a jingling of a buckle, followed by a loud, sickening crack--and you shrieked, heart thumping in your throat, squirming with force to attempt to get away from what was to follow.

"Ah, ah," Mattheo huffed, pressing a palm down on your lower back, holding you firm against the desk. You felt the smooth leather being dragged across your flesh, the sensations making your entire body flinch.

"I'm going to bruise this beautiful ass, and you're going to thank me for it, because that's what bad, filthy girls deserve..." he paused, as though waiting for your protest, and when it never came, he shifted his body, looming over you. "Do you understand me, princess?"

Do you understand? Do you fucking understand? No, any sort of understanding eluded you entirely. In truth, the unfolding scenario baffled you--you didn't know how the fuck you'd gone from being his tutor, someone who could barely tolerate his daily presence, to this precarious moment--bent over the fucking desk, about to be belted by him for an issue involving his own brother. You didn't understand any of this, and yet, not one single part of you wanted to stop it.

In response, you nodded, and Mattheo hummed, seemingly satisfied.

A heavy silence settled around you, in wake of his voice. Every sinew in your body tensed with anticipation, your eyelids squeezed shut in grim expectancy. The air hung heavy, pregnant with the impending storm, while inside you, tension wound tighter than ever, prickling your skin like sharp thorns digging into flesh. Then, like a sudden lightning strike, a searing bolt of pain cracked across your backside, tearing a scream from your lips. Despite the muffling effect of the tie clenched between your teeth, the sound reverberated through the room, shattering the silence.

Mattheo, his grip firm, yanked your hair, pulling you forcefully against his chest--his lips brushing against your ear.

"Do that again and I'll give you something to really fucking scream about, Raven..." he snarled, his fingers pinching your scalp. "Shut up and bite the tie. To five."

In a swift, unyielding motion, he thrust you back onto the desk, his hand firmly grasping your head, forcing your cheek against the chilling surface of the wood. You squirmed beneath his unrelenting hold, your eyelids clenched shut as you awaited the searing sting, but Mattheo didn’t make you wait for very long before the smooth leather of his belt cracked against your skin, leaving behind a trail of fiery agony that surged through your limbs.

Instinctively, your teeth sank into his tie, muffling the primal scream that threatened to escape your lips. An electric jolt of pain rippled through you, yet amidst the torment, a strange sense of resilience emerged. Inhaling sharply, you found the strength to steel yourself, your body absorbing the pain while your spirit endured the storm.

"Mm." Mattheo hummed, running his rough palm over the red, sweltering skin, squeezing a cheek in one of his big hands, soothing the welts. "I gotta say, I fucking love watching you squirm, princess..."

Your face reddened, a pang of an unknown emotion in your chest, eagerly squeezing your eyes shut as he pulled his hand off your flesh, the lack of movement and audible sounds in the room driving your nerves into a panicked frenzy. And then, before you could process it, you felt it again--the pain forcing a choked cry to leave your throat.

"Such a shame I have to ruin this perfect ass--" crack.

Your cunt twinged at his words, fire flashing your flesh, and he he struck you again, swift and merciless, leaving no room for a response--only a ragged, involuntary squeal escaping your throat in response to the searing pain.

"Such a shame I have to remind you of your place--" crack.

You whimpered, your body trembling with a mixture of pain and bewildering emotions. A twisted cocktail of sensations engulfed your mind, leaving you conflicted. You cursed your own body, disturbed by the inexplicable response, your senses entangled in a blend of desire and humiliation. Your core pulsed with an insatiable need, aching for attention, craving release despite the twisted circumstances.

Confusion swirled in your veins, leaving your head spinning. How could you find arousal in something so humiliating? The paradox gnawed at your thoughts, yet an undeniable part of you craved the intensity, leaving you inexplicably craving more.

Above all else, this was degrading. Yet, you were fucking throbbing for it.

"...remind you who you fucking belong to--" crack.

With the final, brutal crack of the belt, the metal buckle seared into your skin, imprinting its icy mark. The sharp, biting sensation wrenched a primal groan from your throat, your body convulsing in response. Drool spilled from your lips, tears welling in your eyes--and the room reverberated with the metallic clatter as Mattheo discarded the belt, his hand moving swiftly to find the inflamed skin, fingers grazing the wounded area with a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness.

His thumb traced the path where you were certain blood had been drawn, a deliberate gesture that seemed to collect the evidence upon his skin. In a sudden, commanding movement, he pulled you away from the desk, forcing you to face him. Within the depths of his gaze, you glimpsed a twisted satisfaction entwined with something infinitely darker. His grin took on a sinister edge as he sucked his thumb into his mouth, the taste of your blood lingering on his lips. It was a macabre ritual, sending shivers down your spine, as if he had claimed a piece of you in a way that transcended the physical realm.

With a deliberate slowness, he withdrew his thumb from his mouth, his unyielding eyes locked onto yours, a challenge simmering beneath the surface. His fingers traced the path of the tie between your teeth, pulling it down methodically until it hung around your neck. Gently, he wiped the drool from the corners of your lips, his touch meticulous and strangely intimate. His eyes scrutinized your face with a depth of focus that both unsettled and intrigued you. There was an enigmatic intensity in his gaze, a complexity that left you partially terrified and yet undeniably aroused.

In that moment, you found yourself entangled in a labyrinth of emotions, your mind racing to comprehend the enigma of the boy standing before you.

His voice was a hoarse whisper. "What do you say, Raven..."

You swallowed, throat more arid than the desert, heart still pounding like a base drum. "Thank you, Mattheo..."

Mattheo's hands found their way to your face, his touch firm yet strangely gentle as his fingers slid sensually through your hair. Without a word, he crushed his lips against yours, a hungry and urgent kiss that left you breathless. His mouth dominated yours, his tongue probing with a rough insistence, exploring every corner of your mouth, caressing your own tongue in a dance of desire.

A low, needy moan escaped your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss, while your fingers clenched his shirt, desperately seeking an anchor in the whirlwind of sensations. With a commanding strength, he urged you backward, his grip on your hips unwavering as he effortlessly lifted you onto the desk. A soft whimper slipped from your throat as the supple flesh of your backside met the unyielding surface of the wood.

He moved down your neck, his plush lips leaving a hot trail of kisses down your chin, jaw, licking and sucking at the every inch of skin he could, creating planes of goosebumps across your flesh. His tongue drew a line across your collarbone, and he fell to your breasts, tugging down your bra and taking one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling it. You moaned, meeting his gaze, and he rolled his tongue around the hardened bud, sending shivers through you, straight to your clit.

Exasperated, he pulled away--dark eyes scanning your heaving, lust-possessed form.

"You're beautiful," he breathed.

You were speechless, beginning to tremble, and Mattheo Riddle dropped to his knees between your legs, urging your thighs further apart on the desk, long fingers clutching your hips. Your cunt clenched in anticipation, but your teeth were clacking from anxiety, and he met your eyes.

"Relax," he said.

You made an attempt to nod, but your chin quivered despite your resolve. It wasn't an issue of trust, nor were you overtly frightened. Yet, the sheer intimacy of his presence, hovering intimately close to your most vulnerable parts, left your nerves frayed and your composure on the edge of unraveling.

"Raven." Mattheo glared at you, gouging the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "Relax. You're safe with me..."

"I-I know..." you whimpered.

You shut your eyes tightly and drew in a slow breath through your nose, holding it in an attempt to steady the quivering in your body. You waited, holding onto the breath, until the tremors subsided before finally exhaling, releasing the tension that had gripped you.

"Good girl," he said. "Now look at me."

You opened your eyes, and his gaze locked with yours as his warm mouth started to suck at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, extracting a mewl from you. He smirked against you, moving closer to your center, and you bit your lip, walls contracting again with desire. As he drew closer, the curls of his messy hair tickled your skin, and then he shifted a hand, urging your panties to the side before he skipped his tongue across your outer folds, making your hips buck toward him.

"Filthy thing," he said, and pressed his full, soft lips to your pussy, dragging his flat tongue along the slit.

“F-fuck," electricity shot through you, wriggling within his grasp, your fingers clenched tightly, entwining in the disheveled tangle of his hair.

Riddle muffled a laugh with your flesh, lavishing your cunt with deep, slow kisses, tongue sliding inside of your folds, lapping the juices at your core, teasing your outer lips with languid licks. He moved away from your center, his mouth back to crawling along your thighs, and you complained with a grumble. In response, he took the tip of his tongue and flicked your clit.

"Shit..." you moaned, rocking your hips toward him. You stared at him with shining, pleading eyes. "Matty...please, please..."

"There's my girl..." he purred, "I love when you beg for me, Raven...you've been so fucking good for me..."

Before you could response, he growled and sucked your clit into his mouth, and you cried out, body jerking, but he held you fast, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub. A moan left you as you gyrated your hips, warmth spreading out across you, fingertips and toes buzzing with bliss. Mattheo played his tongue against your swollen clit, your walls throbbing as your pleasure continued to build.

"Oh, fuck," you said, head hanging to the side. "Oh, Gods...Matty..."

The vibrations of his moan reverberated through your pussy, and he sucked harder, his unyielding stare never wavered, his golden-brown eyes digging into the depths of your soul. Each breath came faster, a delicious surge of pleasure coursing through your veins, building an exquisite tension that carried you higher and higher, inching you closer to the precipice of bliss. Mattheo buried his face into your cunt, lips tight on your clit, tongue batting the bundle of nerves.

Incessant moans escaped your chest with every ragged breath, jaw hanging open, gripping his hair like you could pull it from his scalp. "I...holy fuck...Mattheo..."

"That's it," he purred, the praise in his tone sparking heat in your lungs. "Cum for me, baby..."

A tidal wave of euphoria crashed over you, the walls of your senses pulsating, your body wracked with the convulsions of a long-delayed orgasm. Your vision blurred into white nothingness as you threw your head back, a crescendo of unintelligible curses escaping your lips in a primal symphony. Mattheo held onto your spasming legs, his ministrations expertly guiding you to the pinnacle of your pleasure, drawing out every last exquisite tremor, tip of his tongue sliding up your slit to your mound as you finally returned to reality. Your chest swelled as you caught your breath, refocusing on Mattheo's glistening face.

Your head rolled, lids fluttering open, hands petting at his hair. "Fuck, Matt-"

"Shh." He licked his lips, gaze liquefying your centre. "We aren't done yet, princess...keep being good for me..."

Entirely speechless, you nodded, unable to peel your eyes from his as he pulled you off the desk, dropping his hands from you as he moved to the buttons on his trousers, swiftly undoing them before pulling them down his thighs along with his boxers--his thick, throbbing cock springing free, tip glistening with precum, his head falling back in relief as he wrapped his fist around its girth, stroking slowly as you instinctively gathered yourself in front of his feet.

Something was swirling inside you, something primal, something hungry--and your hands found his thighs, slowly trailing up, peering up at him with a wide-eyed gaze; your voice alien to your own fucking ears.

"Please, Matty..." you purred. "Please let me suck your cock...please let me swallow-"

"Fucking hell..." Mattheo seized your hair, his actions driven by a raw and primal intensity as he directed his cock toward your lips. "Show me what that filthy mouth does, baby..."

You parted your lips, and Mattheo's grip on your hair tightened, pushing himself into you. Without thinking, you groaned on his length, legs writhing with arousal as he inched himself along your squirming tongue. Mattheo was biting his lip, watching your own lips stretch around his dick, watching you stare up at him with large, obedient eyes. He throbbed in your mouth, and you swallowed, the pool of your spit mixing with pearls of salty pre-cum.

Mattheo grunted, pulling out and thrusting back in, and in and out again, lips parting while you whimpered and choked on the size of his cock.

"Poor thing," he sneered. "Am I too big for your dirty little mouth?"

Nodding, you attempted to groan your agreement, but found yourself muffled by a deep thrust into your throat. You retched, trying to get off of his length, but another hand seized the back of your head, holding you there, tears and drool sliding to your jaw while he rocked into you. Every noise from your chest was a stifled whimper, gagging with every deep thrust, but he was ruthless, fingers burrowed into your face, cock fucking hard into your throat, and when you squeezed shut your lids, he growled.

"Look at me, Raven." he ordered. "Look at me when I'm throat fucking you. Know whose cum you're about to taste.

You complied, locking eyes with him through a haze, your throat raw and tender, lips and tongue going numb with his brutal thrusting.

"Good girl," he moaned, "so good...fuck..."

Riddle shifted, craning your head back, plunging deeper into your neck, seething in pleasure when you whined on his cock. His breath was coming fast, his dick pulsing urgently in your mouth, and then he was cursing, hissing your name, hips jerking in sloppy thrusts. He pulled out, fisting his length.

"Open."

You did, and he growled, shooting hot ropes of white onto your mouth and eyes, hips still rolling while he fucked his hand through the end of his climax. As he caught his breath, he looked down at you, your jaw jacked open, his bitter cum collecting on your tongue and sticking one of your lids shut.

"Go on," he huffed. "Swallow it."

Groaning, you swallowed, eye twitching as it opened despite the pull of his release on your lashes. Gasping for air, your head hung low as Mattheo released your hair. His eyes never wavered, attentively watching your every move as you gradually pulled yourself up from the floor. Meanwhile, his hands deftly moved to adjust his pants, restoring a semblance of decency.

Your own hands trembled as you fumbled to button up your shirt, a sense of vulnerability lingering in the air. Mattheo closed the distance between you, his tall figure casting a shadow over you in the charged silence. With a slow, deliberate movement, he used his finger to sweep away any traces of his release from your face, his eyes smoldering with intensity and a smirk playing on his lips as he directed his finger toward your parted lips.

Without hesitation, you welcomed it between your teeth, your mouth enveloping it with a mix of compliance and desire. Holding his gaze, you sucked gently, the unspoken tension crackling between you. He watched, his lips parting slightly, as you willingly took his finger into your mouth, the connection lingering until he slowly withdrew it, the intensity of the moment hanging between you like a charged current.

"Shit..." he murmured, glimpsing your lips.

"Shit." You repeated, glimpsing his.

The charged silence hung heavily in the air, enveloping both of you as you stood there, locked in a wordless exchange. Countless unspoken words seemed to swirl between you, filling the space with their weight, yet neither of you dared to vocalize them, opting for the sanctuary of silence. After what felt like an eternity, Mattheo finally exhaled, the sound carrying the weight of the unspoken. With a resigned gesture, he moved towards his chair and sank into it, the weariness evident in his posture.

You followed suit, collecting yourself, and Riddle finally broke the silence.

“This isn’t his blood.” He said, and relief almost immediately flooded you. "One week, Raven."

————————

Find chapter eleven->

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darlingofvalyria · 7 months

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❝Dragons do not seek permission, niece of mine. Dragons take.❞

[ Betrayal clouds your judgement, for when Jacaerys' indiscretion takes the form of a child, your anger lands in the palm of the Rogue Prince. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 3,412 ] | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen Niece!Reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x Manipulative Aunt!Reader | this set in an au inside of in hightower green. | this is able to be read as a oneshot.

contains— canon divergence to the second power - an au of an au - targcest, use of 'bastard', infidelity, profanity, revenge, violence, pureblood Valyrian bullshit - thinking about death as a revenge but no suicide/suicidal ideation- angst, smut - two wrongs apparently make a right - mentions of children, pregnancy, childbirth - nsfw: rough sex, biting, degradation, breeding kink, smidge dacryphilia, creampie - no kinslayers, no kings, no betas.

a/n— special thanks to @ahristata and @hiraethrhapsody for kicking my pursuit of this thread!! i woke up (almost literally) to this line of inquiry, & though writing for daemon is difficult, i had a way, way too much fun with this one m'fraid. Ihad so much fun I started laughing at the absurdity. + comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

You can't breathe.

You stand there, your daughters by your sides, no more than five or so name days, dutiful as ever, the princess of the realm— the heir's wife, blindsided. Betrayed. Lied to. And you can't show them your grief, your anger, your shock— you smile, not betrayed, not realised, stupid.

Your act of stupidity protects you, for you can just tell that others, sharp-eyed as they are owning of sharper tongues, calculate the similarities between your husband and the child he is cooing at, at the arms of the Warden of the North's sister.

His bastard fucking sister.

You can't blink away as the facts, the threads, make a beautiful web in front of you. The conclusion is unmistakable. Jacaerys' consistent travels to the North, despite the campaigning for his mother's seat had not required the frequent stretches of long travels. How Aemond had remarked that the bastard is doing twice as much work in doing so, "as he should," Aemond murmurs darkly. "He casts a disgusting shadow on the Iron Throne, 'tis the least he can do."

The insistent of personally greeting the delegates from the North, you thinking it is just his wondrously formed friendship with the Lord Stark, had you dressing up and bringing your girls with him. So that your daughters can meet their father's fucking friend, one that occupied his time when he could have been at home, tending to his duties, his heirs.

And the woman who follows after the Wolf, the bastard Snow, his beloved sister. Dyanna had told you beforehand, as Lord Stark adores his only sibling. Their parenthood is unmistakable, dark hair and sharp chins. A Northern Beauty.

And then you stop, as there is a babe in her arms, no more than two name days at least.

And you see Jacaerys in his gaze.

His beautiful, warm brown eyes in the child in her arms, and as he stands there, your Prince of the Realm, too close for comfort, too close for platonic friendship, a familiarity one cannot deny— and that fucking, sweet-edged, tender smile on his face...

The same one he wore when you had given birth to his daughters. Soiled sheets, bloodied babes— it didn't matter. He held them to his arms with the very same smile, thanking you for birthing his babes.

A gut punch, a sharp inhale, an anger that coils and burns and roars.

Your bastard of a husband had fucked another bastard, and made himself a bastard little fucking family.

Life can ever be so cruel as it is humorous.

Daemon could have laughed at the prediction you found yourself in.

He sits to the left of his wife, the Queen who— in enough of itself, the evidence of the turmoil the court is about to get under, amusingly is talking quick with her Lord Hand; Corlys and Rhaenyra had not stopped pointedly looking at her heir, words too fast but unmistakable what the topic is if their gestures, the knot between their eyebrows, and unmistakable sighs and determined noises.

He, on the other hand, is pointedly staring at you.

You, who tries so hard to piece together an armour of stupidity, an air of nonchalance. As if there is no anger in your visage at your husband's attention completely stolen by Wolf's little sister and her son... who looked completely like him. Dark colouring, the First Men blood thick in his nose, his hair, at the curled edges of his baby-cheeked giggles.

When standing so close, faces to each other, there can be no doubt a mirror.

Or the lovesick smile on the mother's face, watching the Prince of the Realm interact with her son.

Together, the trio of them don't hint as much as a bead of Targaryen blood. One is able to pretend they are nothing more than a small... brown haired family.

Daemon presses his lips, trying desperately not to laugh so loudly.

He admired the boy, truly. Rhaenyra loved each child from her bosom with equal fervor, and Daemon was prepared take him as purely one of his own... but after he broke the betrothal with his daughter (though Baela could give lesser of a shit, though mildly dissatisfied as she was to become Queen, and the girl held her duties between canines) to marry a Hightower cunt... he had distanced himself from the boy.

Daemon viewed it as a sign of weakness, for he knew you. You were just like your mother, prodding into softened parts of his family— that green whore with his brother, young as she had been, his good sister Aemma had not been cold in their memories before she had found herself weightily pregnant with new heirs, and then Jacaerys, new to womanly spells, new to cunt, and you had him making vows in the ways of the dragonlords.

Though he can surmise that much of your mother's movements had not entirely been her own... Daemon knew that calculative look you got in your eye. Blink and it's gone, but your gaze sharpens, your mouth curls in a winning, prideful little smirk.

You were Otto Hightower's granddaughter alright, and you had wanted the Heir's Heir.

But now, it seems like, once a vow broken, it didn't really matter if it was a betrothal or a marriage to Jacaerys.

It brings a sick pull of satisfaction in him, that tugs him to look at you. Every time.

You laugh, tither, still evermore the gem of the feast— a feast you organised with the Lord Hand for your husband's absolutely exceptional diplomatic achievements in the North, truly, Daemon is laughing in the sidelines as the jests and songs make themselves — but Daemon is overtly familiar with dragons. And anger. And you simply stink of it. The way your eye twitches, the occasional grind of your jaw to how your fingers dig crescent moons into your palm. He catches blood in one blink then smeared, then gone, in another.

Your hold onto your armour— the Darling of the Realm, curated so painfully by a young, sly girl moving about the cesspit they call a crown's court — is breaking in pieces and tatters at each hour the feast went on.

It snarls. Like a dragon locked in the pits, tugging at reins, wishing to burn cities.

Maybe you aren't just another Hightower cunt after all.

Not purely at least, he thinks in distaste, staring at the dark green of your gown.

It is a childish tantrum, more than anything, for what is your Hightower green will do now? A bastard has been made, worse, a son. And though Jacaerys himself has muddied blood, he is still a Targaryen. His mother is Queen, prepared to make him an Heir to the Iron Throne as he had been legitimised as Laenor's son. A Velaryon. He bears the name, the crest, and the support of its house.

What is stopping him from marrying the Snow Bastard, legitimising the boy as his own, surpassing your own daughters?

Targaryens marry siblings, they also marry multiple wives.

It is a thought that he can see it dancing in your head— raw, enticing rage and bloodlust that tightens his breeches.

It is an interesting thing.

The green is disgusting, but Daemon can appreciate a young, fertile, Valyrian beauty.

Something your mother had ingeniously provided you and your siblings with, reining in her muddied blood to produce unmistakable Valyrian children. And as a smart little tart, you understood what to do with it.

When Daemon first met you, you were just one of the Hightower spawns that his brother had made to further his line. His brother's daughters—apart from Rhaenyra — were quiet things as babes and children. Odd the two of you were, but not really hostile. When you were introduced to him, your fat babe of a twin brother was teary-eyed and clinging to you, a quiet child with round eyes, staring at him inquisitively, as if challenging.

Then and there, Daemon disliked you so.

Even as you grew, the little of what he could see as he paid no mind of Viserys' other children, you grew up a fine royal, a princess of every word and sung note. Mentions of your progressive fight for the small folk, your charitable heart, your sweet nature that even his brother had made a note once or twice—

He thought it had been Otto Hightower who put you up to such machinations. Wouldn't be below him.

The night you bedded Jacaerys Velaryon, he was pleasantly surprised to find out it had been you all along.

And now here you are, betrayed as you had betrayed his daughter, delicious in your righteous anger and ripe (two babes before the year ended, Jace is an inglorious fool) for the taking. And youthful still. Smooth, soft skin, pretty lips and bright-eyed.

All your scheming, going as far as throwing your grandsire to Oldtown, it is obvious no one has wrangled the clever, spoiled little brat out of you.

As he sips his wine, amused and pleasantly hungry, he muses he might do a job or two of being the strong arm to do so.

He snorts, eyes straying back to the little First Men family.

There it is again. The jest that keeps on giving.

It was pride, truly, that kept you for most of the feast. That kept your gritted teeth to yourself, ducking into corners whenever your anger burned at your eyelids, stubbornly brushing stray tears away.

All is not lost, you stubbornly thought. You just had to plot.

But when Jace had taken your daughters, your Daenera and Aemma, gently tugging them to his bastard whore and his actual bastard to meet— finding your eyes, at that very moment as Daenera's precious, pureblooded hand shyly took the hand of her bastard brother, a fool's tender fucking simpleton of a smile on your husband's face —

Something in your head had snapped. A clean break.

And your armour had fallen. Like limestone from a fortress. Caved in ruins at the pool of your feet. Dark, furious loathe unfurled in your chest. Unable to handle it anymore, you had taken your dress and got out of the feast, for you could feel the urge of unsheathing a sword and going on a bloodied massacre, crowns and titles be damned.

You may not have a dragon, but you have its bloodlust.

Just as you are rushing to your chambers, you stop and make a different turn, knowing that if your husband had caught wind of such an ugly expression on your face, he would try and find you, talk to you, and you don't have the patience to cater to him at the moment— you find what you know of is an empty chamber, reserved for guests at the Keep.

It is a simple room with all the usual accruements. Most of the fanfare, the sheets, are in storage.

You start with a candelabra.

Raise it high before you are violently smashing it against the dresser, shrieks and guttural screams out of your mouth as you tear through the room like a typhoon, cursing Jacaerys, the North, and bastards to the Seven Hells.

None will be the wiser, for you had built your network well. Your spiders will pivot guards and strangers from this area, ensuring you a reprieve where your anger and grief can unfurl and manifest.

So you lose yourself, a dragon untethered. You get so into your rage, quiet in your thoughts, that you don't hear an intruder entering until there is a low, amused laugh too close for comfort.

You whirl around, tear-stained and rage-filled, and though the Rogue Prince expects you to fall into stutters, your eyes slit and you grip— when had you picked up a tome? — the tome tighter to your chest, snarling, "Get out."

Instead of surprise, or even offense, Daemon laughs as if you are the most amusing thing to him all night. Jesters and whores alike.

"I shall not." He makes a noncommittal hum around the dark room. "I rather like it here. It seems this chamber holds a much better entertainment than anything beheld at the feast."

You let out a dark, incredulous laughter. "I have no time for your toying, uncle, get out!" You toss the tome with fervour, but he's a warrior and he anticipates your anger, sidestepping easily before he's back to casual prowling.

"I do not have time to play jester for your entertainment," you hiss, unable to stop the hateful tears from spilling, brushing them away harshly as you watch him watch you.

He raises an eyebrow. "I am not asking you to."

"Are you here then for my humiliation? Press a bitter wound while it's still bleeding, is that it? Is that what would make the glory of your night?"

He snorts. "What would make the glory of my night is a warm body and a tight cunt."

Your face scrunches. "You are disgusting."

He barks out a laugh. "Not as disgusting as your brother."

"Aegon is no longer—"

"— or as stupidly naive as your husband."

A sharp intake of breath before you're once more cracking in broken rage and ghastly pain.

"Of course you would notice, who would not, he looks so much like his fucking bastard."

"Watch yourself, girl," he barks. "You are still talking about the Queen's heir."

A beautiful guard dog, you think, you snort. You push past him, gasping into the crisp, cool air, holding onto the balcony for dear life.

"His already diluted blood makes this conversation entirely hilarious to me I'm afraid." You look down and wonder how fast you will fall. How messy would such a death be? How much care there is left in your wake? Will your husband even care, now that he has his heir? Borne out of true love no doubt, despite such bastardly blood— or is that what makes it thrilling for them?

Mangled bone, spread thin blood— if you die such a way, it should be pretty. You hope it haunts the Keep of so many before you.

But if you die now, you will be replaced so easily. So prettily.

And your daughters—who will care for them? Will Jacaerys even care, if his bastards soon no doubt fill your once home, your mother, your brothers— your daughters pushed aside to make way for fucking dogs.

There is no satisfaction in such a plan.

There are many others.

The Rogue Prince makes his presence known by standing close to your back, close enough that you can smell him, that his heat is your own, as he hums, peering below as you have.

"Have you been drinking, zaldrītsos little dragon?" he whispers, tangling his fingers through your hair, running a lone finger down your neck, up and down in a tantalising movement. You can't help it, it feels comforting, leaning close to it despite such a breathy huff out of your lips.

"Since when am I dragon, kepus uncle? Haven't you always likened us muddied blood, filthier than dragonseeds?"

"I see that I am wrong," he says, almost idle as if he isn't devouring you in his gaze. How you feel soft, pliant under one finger after weighted in wine and the ruins of your anger, how you're almost purring and sweet like this, your fire alive but consistent. "Aōha perzys burns jehikagrī. Nyke hae ziry. Your flames burn bright. I like it."

"Hm. You've had sons, don't you uncle?"

"I have," he replies, amused.

"And many a children." You reach for his chin, your thumb rubbing his bottom lip. He's old, sure, but men don't have the same bodily issues as women. You know he could reach your father's age and be able to produce five more brats.

But his shoulders are strong, spry only as a swordsman can be.

And he isn't like he's loyal to Nyra, turning fully to you with a hand caressing your side.

His hand comes for your neck, halting your movement as he tests a squeeze. There is only much hatred as there is lust. And his cock is winning over his mind, for when your free hand, watching him intently, reaches for the hardness straining against his breeches, giving it a stroke, his breath stutters into a groan whilst his hips push into your hand.

"Dragons do not seek permission, niece of mine," he hums darkly. "Dragons take, or do you have too much of your Hightower cunt of a mother that you—"

You curl your hand over his cock until his breath hitches.

"I want a son. Surely you'd rather want for your true blood to sit on the Iron Throne? Your wife would remain Queen, her and her heir none the wiser. Any son of mine would be King regardless." Your voice is barely above whisper, stroking him as your squirm in his hold, his breath heavy by each promise, each tale you spin so tall. "Wouldn't you like that better? I am a Targaryen, as are you. Our blood would be pure."

"I have pureblooded sons, riñītsos little girl."

"But will they be king? With my husband as your wife's heir?" When his hold softens on your throat, you push yourself forward, pressing yourself against him. "Wouldn't you want your family's legacy, your legacy, unsullied with prettier blood?

"I want a son, uncle," you whimper, thickened with need and desire, willing him to bend and fold because men like Daemon are easy, because a loving marriage is one thing, a man who holds his house as his pride in another fist is another. "I want your seed to take root in me."

And it isn't like you're asking him to betray his Queen.

Daemon is surprisingly a soft lover, prone in a way to worshipping you even as you had gotten impatient and tried to get your way. His punishments are quick and precise, a hit on your thigh, a tighter squeeze in your throat, a firm bite in your breast enough to draw blood. He's soft but by choice, almost as if he is amusing you in each caress while one hand is holding you by your hair, fucking you down into the sheets.

His words aren't better, spun in hisses and spits, mocking laughter and groans.

"Do you want my seed, you little whore?"

"What would your husband say now, his pretty wife mewling for another? Or would he even care?"

"Your tears are pretty, if you want my seed, I think you need to be sobbing, hm?"

When he finally spills inside of you with nothing less of a broken, guttural roar, hips chasing the high, meeting your sensitivity once, twice, again— you are shattered in pieces and contradictions, floating and wide awake, pleasured and in pain.

He slaps your face gently after he's cleaned himself up, tucked his flaccid cock back in his breeches as he comes to your eye line. "Come to me again when you want my seed, hm? I shall prioritise your wants for the good of the realm but I dare say—"

He cocks his head with a smirk, feeling stirrings at the sight of your fucked out state, his seed spilling from your pretty hole that he can't help himself as he chases it with a finger, forcefully pushing it back in while your body trembles and twitches.

"— you may be with child soon enough, niece. I shall congratulate you and my son with the happy news."

Your eyes flutter close at the echoes of his disappearing footsteps.

Nine moons later, through a hearty, blood-soaked birth that rocked the keep with your wails of pure pain— much more painful than when your girls had come into the world — a baby boy is born of pure Valyrian colouring.

A fat babe who cried murder in his first seconds of life, and it is Caraxes who snarls and screeches into the high noon sky.

"I shall name him Daemon," you say to your husband beside you as you beheld the babe with a wondrous smile and a full heart.

"After your brother and my father," Jace says, smiling. "That is wonderful, my wife. He does look much like them."

Your smile curls, a finger rubbing your babe's fat cheek. "He does. And he will be strong swordsman." Your lashes flutter to Jace, poisoned vowels in each word that he blinks, startled. "Just like his father."

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ziontn · 9 months

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I can understand why people want to think the coffee was laced or something but the answer is a lot more simple. It was a thought out, calculated manipulation. The Metatron took Aziraphale away from his home and the one person he trusts. He begins to praise him, saying he’d be a much better fit to lead heaven. He used Crowley as a bargaining chip. Well we can bring him with us of course! He can be forgiven and you two can be happy and safe! Of course Aziraphale wouldn’t see past that. He wants nothing more than to do good and be with the person he loves the most.

It wasn’t coffee that made him do what he did, it’s being stuck and a toxic and manipulative relationship with Heaven. He took the first chance he got to go back because it’s what’s familiar to him. Even though he knows how bad it is. He thinks, if I can just change it, it can all be better! It’s a parallel to toxic human relationships. The idea that you can change the other for the better, but in doing so you sacrifice everything important to you.

Hope this made sense (not the best at writing my thoughts down)

#good omens #crowley #gos2 #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #go2 #go2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens 2 spoilers

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jkbabiey · 1 year

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What your Lilith sign says about you

OBS: If you don't know what your lilith sign is, just use an online chart calculator (strongly recommend using the 'Extended Chart Selection' on astro.com - don't forget to add 'Lilith' in 'Additional Objects'). Also, this is an 18+ post so, if you're under that age, pls don't read it!!

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝐴𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠:

Lilith in Aries loves a good fight, as they embody the spirit of competition;

There is a particular need to completely dominate every fight they get into and every hater they come across;

There's a tendency in these natives to turn their anger into action, which can lead to a physical display of anger in the form of physical aggression, affecting everyone and everything in sight and spreading like wildfire (which will most likely be the case for those who don't have a suitable outlet for their fierce temper, like a sport);

These natives have a primal sex drive and can become restless in love, in the sense that they can get easily bored if there's no newness in the relationship;

Lilith in Aries craves rough, raw sex

To these natives, sex would, ideally, be quick, dirty, and aggressive

There's a significant correlation between sex and aggression to these natives - somehow, sex after fighting may be a huge turn-on to them;

They may have a thing for domination themes in sex (either being dominated or dominating someone)

As arise dominates the head, there may be a particular liking towards hair pulling, or oral sex.

They may find people who are rough around the edges attractive - their type is the bad boy (they may even find scars attractive).

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝑇𝑎𝑢𝑟𝑢𝑠:

Lilith in Taurus doesn't like to share. They hold onto their possessions tightly;

These natives may feel torn between wanting to embody the sense of lust they feel and enjoying the goods of all 5 senses (good food, good sex, good perfume, good music...), and feeling ashamed of wanting too much, which can lead to sudden emotional outbursts, emotional disorders or even eating disorders;

These natives appreciate comfort, and they can feel anxious whenever they are out of their comfort zone;

They can't handle change, which can lead to them staying in situations that no longer serve them, like toxic relationships, or unfulfilling jobs;

They are all about material security and stability, as they love luxury and fear poverty;

Undeveloped lilith in taurus can lead to someone who is egotistical, selfish, gets everything they want (not caring about what effect that may have on other people), and mocks people with financial needs

These people are prone to throw jealous fits;

Sex with these natives should involve all five senses: the room should smell amazing, there should be amazing quality bedding, an appetizer (like chocolate-covered strawberries, or something), and sensuous lighting. Bonus points if you use whipped cream during sex;

Taurus rules the neck area, so this has to be a focus for their partner;

Hickeys, neck kisses, neck biting, choking, or even leashes - may all be some of these natives' kinks

Also, vocalization is IMPORTANT - you moan, groan, say what you want and what you're gonna do (just express any sexual gratification).

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝐺𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖:

Lilith in Gemini is curious and that can be a blessing and a curse for them. These natives say no to nothing; they will try anything at least once. They want to experience it all, which may lead to them experiencing some stuff that they may hate;

These individuals are very prone to be misunderstood;

They can seem arrogant because they have a sharp tongue and they know how to use it - they can be wicked with what they say when angry;

Their strongest weapon is their mind - they can make excellent communicators, embodying the smooth-talker, but can also use that as a way to manipulate other people;

There's something seductive in the way these natives communicate and most of them may have an attractive voice

These natives are known for giving mixed signals, having a tendency to run hot or cold, and flipping switches on people without a second thought;

These natives are indecisive and may have some trouble knowing what they want in their love life, and most of the time they harbor adoration towards someone but when it gets serious they run away, which can be associated with the non-committal energy associated with the sign of Gemini - and can lead to a deep frustration in these individuals

These natives need to be intellectually stimulated, being attracted to people who can keep up with their witty nature, and who can keep up a fluid conversation - dirty talk can be a huge turn-on to these individuals;

Gemini Lilith can appear one way, initially to prospective partners, and completely flip the switch in the bedroom ;

Gemini rules the shoulder, the arms, the hands, and the fingers, so these body parts are in focus during sex - they may like scratching or biting their partner's shoulders or arms during sex; Also, these natives may be attracted to someone who has muscular arms/shoulders and/or tatted arms/shoulders/hands...

The hands are ruled by gemini so they may have a kink for sucking their partner's fingers; They may also love it when their partner grabs them inappropriately in a public setting and may enjoy giving/receiving hand-jobs or being fingered/fingering their partner

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝐶𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟:

Lilith in Cancer embodies the maternal feminine power;

These individuals have a particular need to feel needed which can lead to them over-giving and not receiving anything;

Undeveloped Lilith in Cancer may dismiss their own healthy limits, overextending themselves for the sake of someone else's comfort;

These natives suffer from separation anxiety, and their biggest fear is abandonment, which can lead to them being overly clingy and needy, invading their partner's personal space;

You may be unable to feel anything sexual towards your partner if there's no emotional connection beforehand;

These individuals have a calming, gentle, and soft energy to them, and they have an other-worldly ability to read other people - they can use these characteristics to emotionally manipulate their partners, using it to keep them from leaving

This soft energy is still present in the bedroom. These natives love to be taken care of during sex, but they can also read their partner easily, meaning they will know how to get their partner off by picking up on subtle hints and desires

Cancer rules the chest, the breast, and the stomach. They may like to sexualize their breast by using lingerie, accessories, and cologne/perfume. These natives may also be attracted to someone with a voluptuous breasts or a muscular chest;

Cancer Lilith may enjoy chest play, as well as licking and sucking the stomach area. Since cancer is ruled by the Moon, which is related to the motherly figure, there may also be a kink related to pregnancy

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝐿𝑒𝑜:

Lilith in Leo isn't afraid of the spotlight. This placement exudes a golden aura of charm that mesmerizes the ones around them - which can be used as a way of manipulation;

These individuals have a captivating presence. They are very attractive and they know it, and this may lead to someone with a lot of self-respect, or to someone egocentric;

This level of physical attractiveness can lead to shallow relationships, and, as these individuals tend to seek other people's approval, they avoid digging deeper into their relationships, to keep their partner from seeing their ugly side;

These natives can't deal with criticism, be it constructive or not, as they have a strikingly strong egos;

These natives like drama - they are not afraid of starting drama just for the fun of it. Leo is a provocative sign, so in a relationship, a Leo Lilith won't be afraid of starting an argument just to see rile up their partner;

These individuals can be selfish in love, looking to be the center of attention in their relationship

These natives like dramatic sex. They are ferocious and passionate when it comes to sex.

Leo rules the back and shoulder, so scratching, biting, and even whipping these areas may be a turn-on for these natives;

They are also attracted to strong healthy hair, so hair pulling may be a big thing for them. They may also think that post-sex hair is attractive.

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝑉𝑖𝑟𝑔𝑜:

Lilith in Virgo knows what they want and knows how to get it;

These individuals are perfectionists to the extreme and this characteristic can be reflected in their romantic relationships, manifesting as control issues and over-the-top standards;

Undeveloped Virgo Lilith may have a tendency to suppress their sexual energy and some of them might be impotent or just unable to perform sex due to the fear of failure of sex;

Lilith in Virgo is a very problematic placement as Lilith is a sign that represents functionality and balance and Lilith is a provocative, empowering asteroid - the two energies conflict;

These natives are strategic and cunning. They like to move in silence, which keeps people guessing and gives them a mysterious look;

Virgo Lilith desires someone intelligent and communicative, with whom they can have logical continuous conversations. They are also attractive to people who, just like them, are healthy and hygienic;

Developed Virgo Lilith is the definition of "lady in the streets, freak in the sheets";

This is a placement that's willing to experiment in bed, not having a definitive list of kinks or turn-ons;

This is a very careful and clean placement when it comes to sex, prioritizing health, by utilizing birth control, getting tested regularly, and being sexually selective. These people tend to love shower sex, fantasizing about showering with their partner.

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝐿𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎:

Lilith in Libra embodies the struggle between being the perfect, mysterious, and independent individual, as they are very charming and elegant, or the perfect partner;

This placement looks for a perfectly beautiful partner and they tend to try to look flawless as well;

An undeveloped Libra Lilith may ridicule people who are not beautiful in their eyes;

Lilith in Libra fears loneliness so they would go to any level to make peace with their partner to avoid loneliness, most of the times blaming themselves in order to put an end to any potential disagreement;

Lilith in Libra tends to be shallow in the choice of the people around them, tending to choose elite, sophisticated, and refined people as their friends. They tend to judge people by how they seem on a superficial level or by what they have;

These people tend to avoid making hard decisions and most of the time avoid making them, pushing them onto their close ones, so they'll make those choices instead;

They like the chase and they are good at flirting, using flirtatious touches, longing gazes, and seductive words. Nothing makes them happier than winning over the unwinnable;

Libra rules the skin, butt, and lower back, these may all be a sexual focus - they may even have sexual fantasies about spanking, anal sex, and/or anal play. They tend to have attractive butts and/or be attracted to people with attractive butts;

They can also be attracted to people with beautiful skin (blemish-free and/or even-toned skin)

Touches on the butt or lower back may be a way of flirting to these individuals;

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝑆𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑝𝑖𝑜:

Lilith in Scorpio is magnetic, powerful, and intense, but highly secretive;

This is a very experimental placement, which is open to kinky sex, toys, taboo topics, and fetishizing themes in sex;

Their sexuality is very apparent and other people may have an overly sexual image of these natives.

They may have had other people interested in them purely based on sex because their sexual energy is a lot of times the first thing others notice; These individuals may have felt objectified most of their lives because of the common unjustified sexual interest coming from strangers;

These natives' feelings are either very intense or not at all - it's all or nothing for them, and when an undeveloped scorpio lilith feels it all, it may manifest in aggression, jealousy, obsession, control, and power;

To these natives sex may be an overwhelming experience because of the emotional bond that comes with it;

Scorpio is associated with the concept of power and control; In relationships, these natives can become controlling - they like to be on top, and in control; This also applies to sex (most scorpio Liliths like to be on top)

To these individuals life can be very much compared to a game - everything is about power;

Undeveloped Scorpio Liliths can find their most significant enemy in their own obsessive and jealous tendencies, these two can be quite the monster to deal with;

Scorpio rules the genitalia and the reproductive and excretory systems, so these natives may be drawn to the size and girth of sexual organs; Also, they may have an impregnation, breeding, or excretory kink.

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝑆𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑢𝑠:

Lilith in Sagittarius seeks abundance and luxury - they want it all and they want it big, be it the most exotic vacation destiny or the wildest party

They are born entertainers and they don't mind having all eyes on them; It's extremely hard to get these individuals to feel somewhat shy or embarrassed;

Sagittarius Liliths cannot deal with small, mundane, day-to-day experiences. Sagittarius is a placement that is known for the tendency to experiment, so lilith in this sign may lead to an excessive level of hedonism and to overindulging in "experiencing" without a limit;

Being open to new experiences, new food, new countries, and new people, these placement tends to attract dangerous people;

Being the epitome of a 'bon vivant', these people cannot handle it when other peoples' feelings get too deep or when others get upset with them, tending to ignore the issue, run away or get angry about it;

Nonetheless, Sagittarius Lilith is a fighter - they will be the first one to stand up for causes like gender equality and animal cruelty; Theoretically, they have the best philosophies and they stick to them - their biggest fear is meaninglessness;

This is the placement most likely to question the existential meaning of life and the paranormal world;

This is a highly promiscuous placement too, being too impulsive, brash, and bold when it comes to sex; This can manifest in them having multiple sexual partners or numerous wild sexual experiences;

Since Sagittarius rules the hips and legs, these individuals may like to highlight their legs with heels, thigh-high boots, fishnets, or garters, or they may like it when their partners wear these types of items;

This placement may also be curvier or be attracted to curvier people;

Due to the adventurous Sagittarius nature, lilith in Sagittarius may like to have sex in public settings - the idea of getting caught may be a turn-on.

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝐶𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑛:

Lilith in Capricorn has a thirst for big achievements, success, and social status - they exude domineering energy

These natives may even become obsessed with the idea of power, feeling attracted to powerful people without really knowing who they are - they may fantasize about being part of a power couple

These natives understand the way the 3D world works perfectly and that's why they thrive while maneuvering in it - they know how to go where they want to go;

Capricorn is the archetype of 'the boss' so they may have a tendency to try and control everything and everyone around them and they may have a hard time understanding that you cannot just control people if you're not their superior in a professional environment;

This is a highly sensual placement, having a lot of sexual energy - even though they mask it very well; Their sexual energy is not provocative or over-the-top, it's rather sly and smooth;

Capricorn Liliths may be attracted to older or more mature people; They may also desire someone who’s in a position of power/control, or have a status about them

It's fairly common for these natives to have fantasies such as office sex, sex with their boss, using sex to gain notoriety in their professional environment, having sex with a highly prominent figure, or gaining the upper hand in a certain situation through sex;

They may also dream of living a secret office love affair;

Capricorn rules the teeth, joints, and skeletal system, so the idea of flexibility may be a turn-on for these individuals;

There may also be kinks such as bondage, being tied up, or bending the body in difficult positions;

These natives may like receiving and giving hickeys and bites;

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝐴𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑢𝑠:

Lilith in Aquarius is the visionary rebel and anything conventional bores them;

Their most valuable asset is their freedom and they use it to always do things their way, which can lead to them feeling like an outsider more often than not (a developed and empowered aquarius lilith will feel at home anywhere tho);

These individuals may tend to try and fit into already formed groups, but most often than not they will not be accepted and this may lead them to feel ashamed of their own characteristics;

Later on in their life, these individuals tend to find other people that will accept them and be as alien-like as them - they tend to become wildly unapologetic of their own uniqueness;

This placement is the embodiment of the quote 'my way or the highway' - they can be quite stubborn;

When it comes to sex, aquarius lilith is just as adventurous and liberal as Sagittarius or scorpio lilith - they are not afraid to explore out-of-the-box sexual fantasies or get freaky, on the other hand, they are utterly comfortable just exploring their own sexuality in its quirky, atypical kinks and fantasies;

There won't be one single sexual fantasy for these individuals, they are willing to try anything and everything their partner wants to try; there will be a whole bunch of different stuff that excites them;

The difference between sag and aqua lilith is that aquarius lilith likes to get freaky, but preferably with a long-standing sexual partner where there’s trust and history involved;

Since Aquarius rules the ankles and the calves, Aquarius Lilith may take a lot of pride in showing off its legs or maybe heavily attracted to someone with defined legs.

𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝑃𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑠:

Lilith in Pisces is the escapist daydreamer - they prefer a fantasy world to a real one;

These individuals want to be surrounded by beauty and they may try to escape the harshness of the real world through daydreams and an idealist and utopian mentality;

This placement has a hard time dealing with accountability so they may struggle with escapist tendencies such as excessive partying, excessive spending, excessive promiscuity, self-sabotaging, and even engaging in substance abuse;

Undeveloped pisces liliths are prone to addiction and may have a tendency to indulge in toxic substances like drugs to isolate themselves from the cruelness of the real world; There may also be a tendency to develop depressive habits (therapy is recommended for this placement);

A developed pisces lilith may develop into a healer, a poet, an empath, or an artist of some sort;

These individuals belong to the aesthetic of a coming-of-age movie and they tend to turn the simplest of things into dramatic experiences;

In sex, pisces lilith wants romance;

These individuals may idealize sexual experiences, turning sex into a tricky subject for them - nothing is perfect but pisces lilith will idealize everything from their sexual partners to their sexual escapades and relationships, giving sex an excessively unrealistic image in their own minds;

Pisces rules the feet and body fat so pisces lilith may have a foot fetish or be attracted to someone with a fuller curvier figure;

#lilith astrology #lilith #astrology observations #obs #atrology obs #lilith observations #aries lilith #taurus lilith #gemini lilith #cancer lilith #leo lilith #libra lilith #scorpio lilith #sagittarius lilith #capricorn lilith #aquarius lilith #pisces lilith #virgo lilith

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anantaru · 10 months

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— yandere honkai star rail boys

including blade, jing yuan, luocha, sampo x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — yandere, angsty, toxic, manipulation

— blade

yandere! blade, who won't ever leave your side in the early stages of your relationship, but the smoldering question, the raging reason as to why was deeply purled in an ulterior, much scarier motive.

it's not because of him owning possessive traits, well, he sure did but the motivation behind gracefully aiding you in everything you may require, always showing up to your doorstep whenever you wanted him to with that big, delicate smile on his handsome face and blessing you with sweet gifts of all kind, his reasoning was contrasting.

at any rate, blade can continuously see that you're slowly but surely getting accustomed to him, that you tend to find some sort of unrecognizable comfort and notable security in his calculated antics.

submit to him, to your fate, you do not have to do anything on your own again.

the voice in your head wasn't your own, it was blade's voice, bright, stern and utterly dominating. it's in your head but it wasn't you talking, or was it? it couldn't be.

when you come to terms with it, step by step, you are quick to notice that something changed because blade backs away all of a sudden, without somewhat announcing nor explaining himself.

you try to reach him, desperately, but you're being ignored, no answer, no message or a call being returned. proceeding, you attempt to idly greet him the very moment you see blade suddenly walk past you on a random evening, while at last, being ignored yet again.

the main impetus of his motives, what could it be? fine, to say it without beating around the bush, it's that blade will try anything in his power to make you the obsessed one.

— jing yuan

yandere! jing yuan who was using one noteworthy strategy to ploddingly drive you into his undying arms, so you weren't able to leave nor would you want to leave in the first place.

the golden eyed will make you feel like you're the most special, alluring, stunning individual he had ever laid his eyes on. most of all, will he turn everything around and act like you're in control of the relationship between you both.

hold on a second, it doesn‘t stop there.

for all intents and purposes has the capable and gifted general easily figured out that by giving you any form of large control, an illusion of indurated authority, he can covertly infiltrate that sweet head of yours to deviously influence and manipulate you how he sees fit.

following this pursue of action, you do not realize what you have gotten yourself into by the time it was too late.

for your own pair of thinking— to you it would seem like you are making important choices and solutions, yet not fathoming that in practice it was jing yuan who would put the hand picked ideas into your thoughts with subtle hints and little traces, you barely notice it.

you would end up doing whatever he wants and he smiles, kissing your lips and thanking you for taking such good care of him.

logically thinking, he does it because he wants you to become attached to him, he cannot possibly live a life without you, it's futile— you're the person he fell in love with, he couldn't imagine you walking away now.

— luocha

yandere! luocha, who, on the far side of the color of his innocent-looking, scintillating eyes, will be a crazy skilled liar who will look at you so sweetly that you cannot even process the mere possibility of something going wrong.

at the outset, he was agreeing and relating to everything you were saying or proclaiming, yet keep in mind, he puts it in a way that wasn't overbearing nor appearing as untrue— luocha knew what to say in order for it to come off as his opinion as well, as an oh so little coincidence that the two of you had so many things in common.

almost like you're made for each other, or, almost as if someone was trying to make it materialize as this.

again, you can envision him as a chameleon— following your first dates, he notices that he is wholly obsessed, it's the way you communicated, the small traits you possessed or how you'd slowly avert your eyes whenever he'd try to hold gazes.

luocha looks at you and visualizes a mirror standing in front of him.

for what reason you might wonder, let me break it to you; he needs you to be exceedingly trusting and unquestioning towards him, whatever he says, you wouldn't quiz it.

slowly, deep, decelerated steps, one by one so you wouldn't notice, luocha will gather all the information he had about you, favorite food, most dearest hobby, your habits, your views on life and the future, all written and memorized in his brain until he turns them into his own traits, characteristics of himself— because, ultimately, he was always a step ahead of you, easily lying through his gritted teeth without even realizing it himself sometimes ..

.. yet never letting go of the unfaltering control he now had acquired.

— sampo

yandere! sampo, who on the outside appeared to be rather bubbly and harmless, yet on the inside was excessively skilled in keeping you within his mind altering reach.

because love was scary, or so he thought and sought to point it out, it’s basically handing over a map of all your flaws and imperfections while putting faith in your partner to not abuse that power.

in advance of your relationship, the man had already gained your abiding trust out of the clear blue sky— lets take this into consideration, whenever you encountered a problem, dear sampo was here to solve it almost immediately, without even trying his utmost hardest.

how come he had a solution to everything you needed, he truly was wonderful, or wasn't he?

and his extraordinary inducements of special care, how he made sure that you were contented and pleased in your life, all while in reality remaining unnoticed in the cruel darkness, as the very cause of those problems you have encountered.

it's quite silly he thinks, how creative he was, again using negative rumors to pull you into a corner, or stealing work utensils and important materials you needed, silently orchestrating a various square of people who will look down on you.

until at the very last, sampo proudly positions himself just right in your life, quite heroic indeed, and placing a fake security on top of your person ..

.. so you wouldn't have to worry about anything in life anymore and fully attach yourself to him.

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uzurimisery · 5 months

Text

chapter 1: the setting. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Watching TBOSAS rekindled my love of this series and Tom Blyth makes young Snow sexy.

wc: 4,422

waring: smut, misogyny, dubcon, toxic relationships, snow is insane, not beta read

AO3 version here | Series Master

“You’re to take Y/N to the gala and after that the two of you will begin a show of courting for the Capitol to watch.”

Coriolanus Snow found you to be a thorn in his side. An unknown variable. You were wellbred stock, perfect for carrying on a bloodline, but somehow you were as disgraced as those from the Districts. Even before the war had started and ended Coriolanus found you insufferable. Too aggressive, undisciplined, and unpredictable. He liked reading people, at this point he’d say he could read others better than they could read themselves. But you were a blank slate. Wellbred, well read, and well insufferable. The only reason he even pretended to care about you was who your mother was.

Dr. Volumnia Gaul was more of a creator than a mother. Mothers cared and nurtured their children with love and compassion, two emotions Gaul was incapable of. Funny considering she was once an obstetrician. It was there that she had been introduced to your father, another prominent Capitol resident, and had you. She liked you, surely, often willing to give you more grace than others for their mistakes, but love would be going too far. Perhaps her being your mother is why Coriolanus liked you even less, you had all of her traits he disliked the most.

The Snow family had always been led by men, a tradition passed down from father to son, an unbroken chain of masculine dominance. But the Gauls were different. They were led by women, strong, capable women who defied the traditional power dynamics. And you were no exception.

You were determined to prove yourself, to carve your own path, to become a leader just like your mother. You fought Coriolanus head-on, challenging his every suggestion, even when you knew your opposition was futile. You were a master of manipulation, using coercion, leadership, and cunning to bend others to your will. Even Coriolanus, the shrewd and calculating Snow, found himself falling prey to your machinations at times.

You had convinced two of the most desirable women in the Capitol, Persephone Price and Iphigenia Moss, that he was in love with them both. For a tense month and a half, they waged a bitter war for his affections, making his life a living hell right after he had returned from District 12. It was as if you simply enjoyed watching the chaos you created, relishing in the discomfort you inflicted upon him.

Coriolanus couldn't deny his grudging admiration for your skill. You were a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of ambition and cunning.You were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, a challenge he couldn't quite overcome. And that unsettled him.

"Dr. Gaul," he began, his voice laced with scepticism, "I hardly think that I am the most suitable companion for your daughter, even if just for show.”

A sharp, echoing cackle escaped Volumnia's lips, sending a shiver down Coriolanus's spine.

"Oh, Coriolanus," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "my dear star pupil, you underestimate your own abilities. You are the very person I need to keep that girl in line. Plus she makes you look like a more viable successor."

His jaw tensed.

“I hardly think that if you couldn’t control her I could.”

“Control is a fickle thing Mr. Snow,” Volumnia did not even turn to face him as she stared down into a microscope. She turned a dial to clarify the view before then adding liquid, some sort of acid from the smell, and stirring the plate with a glass rod before continuing.

"Y/N is merely playing at having control. She is an actor, a performer, and you, my dear Coriolanus, will be her stage."

“And what is my role in this performance?”

"You will be the charming escort, the perfect foil to her rebellious spirit," she explained. "Your ability to manage her shows that the Gaul name carries on in your relationship with her, breeding the best gamemaker there could ever be."

His fingers itched to throw the beaker of acid onto Gaul. The very thought of touching you made his skin crawl. He could still feel the lingering sensation of your skin against his, a clammy, unnatural warmth that sent shivers down his spine from the last time the two of you had touched even briefly. Truly his interactions with you had been limited before the 10th games, you were two years his junior, it was only after he came back from 12 that he had even spoken to you. Now you worked side by side with each other on the games under your mother, and his every interaction with you made him violent.

The idea of having you draped over his arm all night filled him with a sense of nausea. He could almost picture you under him, your body contorting in agony as you choked by his doing. He envisioned himself standing over one of the ridiculous chaises in your family estate, your father's extravagant purchase. He would slowly tighten his grip around your throat, watching as your eyes bulged in terror and your face contorted in pain.

The thought of your hands desperately clawing at his arms, your tears streaming down your face, sent a strange jolt of excitement through him.

He pictured himself using one of the delicate scarves you always wore to strangle you, the soft fabric contrasting with the harshness of your screams. He would watch as your eyes rolled back in your head, your life fading away with a final, gasping breath.

Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word that adequately described his feelings for you. A venomous mixture of loathing, fascination, and a twisted desire that he couldn't quite explain. Lucy Gray he had wanted to control, but you wanted to break.

“As you wish Dr. Gaul.”

When your mother had told you that you were to be escorted by Coriolanus to the gala and then “pretend” to court him, you were pissed. You saw through his carefully constructed façade of charm and sophistication, recognizing him for the manipulative user he truly was. In his eyes, people were nothing more than expendable pawns, their lives mere tokens in his ruthless game.

While you couldn't deny that you shared a similar disregard for human life, having been raised in an environment where expendability was a given, there was a fundamental difference between your perspectives. You saw value in keeping people alive, recognizing their potential as tools in your own elaborate schemes. Death was not an option for you; it was a blunt instrument, a crude solution to a complex problem. People were willing to go to the extremes for their loved ones, and extremes meant profit.

There was no choice to be had in the matter of being his date, mother dearest had given you a look that said all. If you dared to defy her wishes, she would unleash a torrent of consequences, transforming your life into a living hell until she deemed your lesson learned. While you possessed a certain degree of freedom, there were lines even you dared not cross, and this was one of them.

But Coriolanus made you feel things that you thought you were incapable of, a deep burning rage that whispered at the end of it all one of you would be consumed. You could almost envision the moment when your fury would reach its crescendo, when your teeth would sink into his flesh, consuming him in the flames of your intensity.

As if life couldn't be any more cruel to you, Coriolanus had insisted that you were costumed by his cousin Tigris. Now Tigris was agreeable company, a beacon of kindness and warmth, possessed an innate ability to perceive the good in others. While you found her naivety and idealism somewhat exasperating, you couldn't deny her inherent goodness and her remarkable skill as a seamstress.

Yet, the thought of enduring the tedious process of changing into multiple outfits, each designed to enhance Tigris's artistic vision, threatened to push you to the brink of insanity, a state your mother had succumbed to years ago. The prospect of reliving her descent into madness sent a chill down your spine.

Tigris's fingers trailed along the soft fabric of the gown, carefully adjusting its folds to accentuate the curves of your body. "You know, you've got a really nice figure," she remarked, her voice laced with admiration.

A wry smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Why thank you, Tigris. If you asked your cousin, he'd tell you I had a body made for the Districts."

Tigris's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does that even mean?"

"Oh, it's just one of his many ways of insulting me," you explained with a shrug. "He's surprisingly bad at it, considering how much he tries."

As Tigris continued her work, meticulously crafting the gown to perfection, you found yourself enjoying her company more than you had anticipated. Her easygoing nature and engaging conversation provided a welcome distraction from the simmering tension that always seemed to accompany Coriolanus's presence.

For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to partially let down the guard you had carefully constructed over the years. You savoured the simple pleasure of Tigris's companionship, cherishing the rare moments of genuine connection in a world that often felt cold and impersonal. Even if it was inside the Snow family penthouse.

The black velvet gown hugged your curves like a second skin. Tigris' skilled hands moved with practised ease, adjusting the intricate details of the dress, ensuring that it would perfectly complement your form.

"I think I'll add a corset effect to this," Tigris mused. "Corio has some cufflinks that were his father’s that would go well with that."

"I am but your humble dress-up doll," you teased, playing along with her lighthearted banter.

Tigris's smile widened, her laughter echoing through the opulent dressing room. "Well then, I'll have to show off my best work for such a famous doll," she declared, her voice filled with playful affection.

The light hearted mood continued for some time, eventually a servant came in to offer you tea. That ended up being your only respite as Tigris then wanted you to try on more gowns for different events. Apparently you had sparked something in her to create various things.

Perched atop a pedestal, clad only in your underwear and an arm across your bare chest, conversation flowed with Tigris, her nimble fingers expertly hemming the length of a shimmering silver gown. Your topics ranged from the latest academy and university gossip to Ma Plinth's overprotective tendencies towards Coriolanus, eventually settling on your father's renowned interior design skills. His contributions to the Capitol's architectural landscape were a source of pride for both of you.

You two had been so lost in conversation you hadn’t heard Coriolanus enter the apartment and calling out for Tigris until he was in the doorframe of the dressing parlour.

“Tigris I need you to fix this stitch on my blazer, it came undone while I was walking over here- oh.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Coriolanus's face, momentarily disrupting his composed demeanour. He seemed momentarily taken aback by the sight of you.

Tigris quickly rose, her hands reaching to cover your exposed form, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Corio!” she stammered, “If you can just leave it on the chair I’ll get to it shortly.”

Coriolanus regained his composure. "No need to rush, Tigris," he spoke smoothly, his voice devoid of any hint of the turmoil that he felt "I just need this done by Tuesday."

He turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I should hope that's not what you’re intending to wear to the gala, I think your mother would throw you in the arena herself.”

Without another word, he turned and exited the dressing room, leaving you and Tigris to exchange looks.

___

Coriolanus couldn't shake the image of your back from his mind. The smooth, flawless skin, untouched by blemish or imperfection, is a testament to the care your mother had taken in your upbringing and no doubt the many concoctions she made to keep you that way. The memory of your curves lingered in his thoughts.

He had always held the opinion that your body was more suited to the Districts, a form meant for bearing child after child to provide the Captiol with more luxury. But seeing you laid bare made him reconsider your appeal.

His usual taste in women ran towards the petite, almost painfully thin, figures that could afford to forgo nourishment for the sake of fashion. They were delicate creatures, easily controlled, incapable of challenging his authority. But there was something about you, something that stirred a different kind of desire within him.

Thoughts of you under him shifted, taking on a carnal nature. The dim light in the room seemed to flicker with the intensity of the images playing in Coriolanus's mind.

You under him, tears streaming down your face, but no longer was he choking you. You cried out in pleasure begging him to never stop. Your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy, mouth open as you gasped. Neck covered in hit bite marks and hickies that trailed down your chest, heaving with exertion. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust again and again, your nails digging into his forearms drawing blood.

You cried so sweetly for him, came undone so well for him. That cunning mind of yours consumed by thoughts of him. He might never figure out how to predict your actions but he could figure out your needs, your desires, what makes you tick. Pull your tongue out between his fingers and spit in your mouth. To turn you on your front and hike your hips up against his own, hands pinned behind your back.

“Corio, what's wrong?”

Coriolanus's mind jolted back to the present, the vivid images from his fantasies dissolving like wisps of smoke. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dim light of the room once more. Your gentle voice, using his nickname, had pierced through the haze of his thoughts, pulling him back from the precipice of his desires.

"Nothing, I was considering something for the next games," he replied, his voice slightly strained. "I do apologise, Mr. Creed. Innovation is something that weighs on me heavily.”

Mr. Creed chuckled, bassy and thumping. “ No worries my boy, your date was keeping me ample company.”

He watched as the older man's gaze lingered on your figure, a predatory glint in his eyes as it bore into your chest for a second too long.

Disgust churned within him, a visceral reaction to the blatant display of lechery. Mr. Creed's age only served to amplify the repulsiveness of his behaviour, a man old enough to be your father, yet still driven by the primal urges of a rutting animal.

Coriolanus saw through the façade of civility, the veneer of sophistication that Mr. Creed carefully maintained. Behind the polished exterior lurked a man incapable of masking his basest desires, his eyes a window into a mind consumed by lust.

He drew you in closer, feeling the heat of your skin spread against the material of his suit.

“And what company she is.” he placed a kiss on your temple with a chuckle all whistle maintaining eye contact with Mr. Creed. A man's warning not to vye for what was his. “I often say she should host the games instead of designing them.”

“Oh hush! You couldn’t possibly manage without me.”

“Well I’d have your mother.”

You giggled at that, showing that you had one too many fruity cocktails infused with a laughing agent earlier in the night, the light catching in your eyes. He could tell you were loose, more pliable then he had ever seen you. Part of him wondered if it was just all part of the act to you, playing as well behaved for him. The Capitol’s untouchable wild child made compliant in his arms.

Despite the lingering doubt, Coriolanus couldn't deny the allure of your presence. Your laughter, once a source of frustration, now held a captivating charm, and your relaxed attitude was a welcome change from your usual sharp wit and guarded demeanour.

“And with that Mr. Creed, I do think that Y/N and myself should go find Dr. Gaul.”

“Of course Mr. Snow, I look forward to your next presentation.’

Coriolanus pulled you away from the overly perfumed man and out of the garden where you had been. The president’s mansion always had half the party outside in the expansive greenery and the rest on the first floor of the building. He guided you out of the garden, the expansive greenery and lively chatter fading into a distant hum. He led you into a secluded sitting room, its dimly lit interior a stark contrast to the vibrant party outside.

Coriolanus was a man who prized possession, a collector of valuable objects and people alike. He had never been one to share, a feature made even worse after his time in District 12, and the sight of Mr. Creed eyeing his 'toy' had ignited a possessive fire within him.

You were his, he told himself, all the Capitol knew after the revelation of your made up love affair during the 15th games. But, you had made it abundantly clear that you were not his. The ownership did not extend into your life outside of performing in your role for the people of the Capitol and to appease your mother.

It was easy to keep the lines from being blurred normally but since that day in the dressing parlour something snapped within him.

Plopping down on the chaise you sighed heavily. “What crawled up your ass Corio?” To strung out every syllable of his nickname, teasing him.

A sharp exhale and her turned to face you. Watching you reapply your pristine red lipstick.

“Creed is nothing more than a pig, a bloated, self-serving creature who values nothing but his own wealth and power," he growled, his voice laced with venom.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Tell me something I don't know. One of their Avvoxes is like that because Festus saw his father with the girl, and his mother went bat shit.”

“How do you know this?”

You closed your compact with a snap and tucked it back into your clutch alongside your lipstick. "Festus told me," you confessed, a sly grin playing on your lips. "He squeals easily.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Tell me Snow, when did you start to care if some old pervert undressed me mentally.”

“Since your mother made the entire country think we’re in love.”

“But we aren't.”

“No we aren’t,” there was no love between you two “but that means you’re mine as far as he’s concerned. I don’t enjoy anyone coveting what's mine, even if this relationship is just for show.”

“Ah! Of course, there he is, the egotistical and controlling Coriolanus we all know. For a second I thought you might actually hold a shred of care for me.”

You leaned back in the chair, your dress slipping slightly down on your chest furthering the curve of your breast.

He had to admit to himself he was no more animal than Mr. Creed when the slightest slip made his thoughts race. His mind went back to his earlier thoughts now inspired by the room you were in. Bent over the chaise with your lipstick smeared, a litany of stains on his face and collar. He’d hike the skirt of your dress up and pull your top down, leaving your breasts free for him to grab at as he took you from behind, your underwear hanging off just an ankle. Festus or his father would walk in the scene and pale as Coriolanus displayed his ownership of you.

“Seriously Snow what’s wrong with you?” You’ve been distracted all night.” You shifted on the chair grabbing his arm and pulling him down to sit. “I won’t pretend to like you but you’re not yourself.”

His gaze flickered down to your chest before meeting your eyes.

Those eyes had always held the power to see through him, to strip away his carefully constructed exterior and expose the terrified child within, a child haunted by the horrors of the bombings. They roused something deep within him, something he couldn't quite comprehend. He was convinced it was hatred, an intense aversion to everything related to you. Yet, amidst the gaudy extravagance of this opulent sitting room, there was something more than hatred, a yearning, a need to possess you, not just in the pretence of a fabricated relationship, but for real.

“Nothing is wrong.”

"Bullshit," you retorted, your voice firm and unwavering. "You've been distant with me ever since that day in Tigris' dressing parlour. You refused to even acknowledge me the last time I saw you, couldn't even bring yourself to look at me."

He couldn't deny your accusation, for it was true. He had been avoiding you, intentionally keeping his distance, unable to face the tempest of emotions that your presence evoked within him.

"Have you considered that I find you repulsive and even looking at you gives me mental anguish?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, a desperate attempt to deflect the attention away from his own turmoil.

"Okay, jackass," you sighed in exasperation. "I was actually trying to be nice to you here, even considering the possibility of being more amicable in the future, but clearly, that's an impossibility with you."

Standing up from your position, you straightened out your dress, your back turned to him. "I'm going to find my mother and then leave, and I don’t know how we will keep acting like we’re in love in public but we will." you declared, your voice seeming to echo in the room.

Before you could take a step away, Coriolanus' hand wrapped around your wrist. "You're hurting me," you exclaimed, struggling against his hold.

"What do you even want?" you demanded, spinning around to snatch his hand away, only to find yourself pulled down, landing directly into his lap.

You gasped in surprise, your body pressed against his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through your senses. His eyes, those storm-filled pools, were inches from yours, their intensity almost hypnotic. There was something swirling in them that you had never seen him express before.

“God seriously, what is wrong with you? I don’t know why my mother insists on it being you! You are the most insufferable man I have ever met. Constantly talking down to me and trying to make me feel lesser. You need to sort yourself out.”

Your voice raised, carrying into the hallway where he knew people were. He could hear their steps coming towards the door.

He watched you, his expression unreadable, his fingers still tracing patterns on your waist. It felt so breakable under his touch, like he could squeeze it ever so tightly and it would shatter. Maybe that was what was wrong with him, his image was that of strength and yet you were so fragile.

The reality was much harsher than that. He had never viewed you as a person before that day. You have been an obstacle or a pawn. Now he had to act as he loved you, craved you, desired you. Initially that was a hard ask, your very being was unpleasant to him, but since that day something had shifted in him. You were human now. And far too tempting.

The handle of the door began to turn. The narrative needed to be made, actions taken, you both were here for a purpose tonight.

His lips crashed into yours, more gnashing teeth than the delicate touch of a lover, a show of dominance and control. The frustration of this whole act and his loss of control bubbling to the surface and letting the anger out on you. You tried to pull away, speak to him maybe, but he pulled you back against him and with a hand on the side of your face pushed your jaw open letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. It was wet and messy. His tongue running against the back of your top teeth before dancing with your own. The desire to consume you coming out on top.

“Oh my!”

He pulled away with a bite at your lip, hard enough to leave the both of you tasting blood.

A collection of Coriolanus' classmates from the Academy and a few notable members of high society, including both Festus and his father, stood at the now open french doors taking in the scene before them.

Y/N Gaul draped across Coriolanus Snow’s lap engaged in a hot and steamy makeout session. You intricate updo half udon by his actions, both your breathing labour, red lipstick smudged around both your mouths. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. You hadn’t heard anyone coming to the room too distracted by Coriolanus’ odd behaviour which was now explained.

Coriolanus instantly snapped into character a charming smile spread across his face as he steadied a hand on your hip.

“My apologies I wasn’t aware anyone would be using this parlour tonight.” He spoke with a lighthearted chuckle. “Miss Gaul was just simply breathtaking this evening.”

Your name brought you back into the moment, the velvet of his voice soothing your panic. You moved to adjust his shirt and blazer back into place, an intimate gesture painting the two of you having a deeper relationship than people initially thought.

“Corio,” you chided gently “I told you that we needed to be careful.”

“You're right my dear. I was overconfident, assuming we had a moment to ourselves. I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” He slipped the handkerchief out of his pocket and began cleaning up your ruined lipstick. “Please give us just a minute and we will clear the room for you.”

He finished cleaning you up and then stood, taking your hand in his. Some more apologies were given to the crowd as the two of you absconded away like teenage lovers that had just been caught. A trail of hushed whispers and lingering glances followed you out. You couldn’t catch everything but you heard one thing very clearly.

“Well there goes the gossip that they hate each other.”

#uzuri writes #hunger games imagine #tbosas #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the death of an actor #hunger games smut

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osaemu · 6 months

Text

OSAMU DAZAI: ❛❛ FALSE GOD ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ dazai's far from the perfect boyfriend, and you're not the perfect girlfriend either. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. gets kinda angsty but nothin' major. toxic undertones. not a songfic but there's one line from false god included. mostly cunniligus. kinda self-indulgent.

author's note: obscure ending, interpret it however u want.

osamu dazai is a cynic, and he has no shame in admitting that.

every word you say and every man you smile at, dazai knows. behind those coffee-brown eyes lie a calculated gaze, and it's fixated on you. it's as if you're nothing more than another pawn in his games — just another player for dazai to manipulate at his will.

dazai figures that it's just human nature. everyone has their own motives, and everyone has their own secrets. being raised by the mafia, he's practically been trained to analyze every move made by another. after all, since he can't read minds, he has to assume that even you can't possibly be this good to him.

one day, when you bring him lunch at the agency, he asks what you'd like in return. you pause, a bit confused, before shaking your head and replying that it wasn't meant to come off that way. dazai insists that he do you a favor or something in return in order to avoid being indebted to you.

it stings, really, the idea that dazai thinks that your relationship is nothing more than a contract. and after weeks go on with dazai's suspicious eyes boring into your back every time you do a favor for him, you finally tell him so. you tell him what you thought you'd never have to tell him — that you don't have any ulterior motives in dating him.

dazai disagrees.

"i can't talk to you when you're like this," you murmur, shaking your head. and you really can't. honestly it's frustrating and draining — you don't want to have to prove to dazai night after night that you aren't with him for anything else than him.

your boyfriend's eyes narrow slightly, and clearly, he's trying to find your angle. is this a ploy to gain sympathy from him? or are you trying to guilt-trip him into doing something for you later? whatever it is, dazai decides that the best course of action would be to leave. for now, at least. he'll come back when you're asleep.

"okay."

dazai turns and leaves, going off to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what. you're left standing in the doorway, dumbfounded and not sure where to go from here.

two wineglasses and three hours later, he returns and finds you passed out on the couch. under any other circumstances, dazai'd be worried, but there's a trashy romcom playing in the background and a half-empty wine bottom on the table, so he figures that you're fine.

he walks over, careful not to wake you. dazai holds a bouquet of pink roses in one hand, and he uses the other to gently caress your cheek.

"god, you're so dramatic," dazai whispers, eyes trailing over your drowsy figure. his words are laced with muted affection, as if he can't find a way to express it without a petty insult on top of it. and well, maybe you are somewhat dramatic, but the way he sees it, he'd rather make up now than drag this on later. he sets down the bouquet and kneels down to your level, and the faint scent of whiskey lingers in the air.

"i wish i could be your perfect boyfriend," dazai says quietly, trailing his fingers through your hair. "but i just can't be, and if you want me to leave, i will."

dazai knows you're awake and listening to every word, and he also knows that you don't underestimate him. he's confident that you're aware that he knows you're not actually asleep, but for the sake of the moment, he gives you that choice. you can either keep pretending to sleep and brush him off, or you can open your eyes.

you open your eyes.

maybe you're just a hopeless romantic, but you could swear that a soft, relieved sigh escapes dazai's lips. lips that are now on yours as dazai attempts to make up for all the times he's pushed you away. and it's likely that even now, dazai won't change. he never does, no matter how many promises he makes. but it's nice that for once, he's trying to make up for what he's lost. even if it isn't much.

but you do get pretty close to forgiving him when his mouth isn't the only part of him on you. dazai's slender fingers make quick work of his coat as he tosses it to the side, eyes focused on you, only you. he doesn't have time to wonder if this is what you wanted all along of if it's just the sex scene in the romcom that's making him do this, but one thing leads to another and soon he's eating you out, tongue turning the edges of your vision white.

if you had doubts about the existence of heaven before, they were gone now. you swear you can see stars as dazai eats you out, and the lewd sounds that fall from your lips are downright sinful. you beg for more, more, more, and dazai obeys, giving you everything that you ask for.

it's funny how weeks of underlying tension can be eliminated in the span of an hour, but if there's anyone who could do it, it'd be dazai. as his tongue flicks in and out of your drenched cunt, your ability to form cohesive words vanishes, and all you're left with is his name.

"god, 'samu, please don't stop," you gasp, hands tangled in his hair as he looks up at you from his spot in between your thighs. his mouth has always worked wonders on you, whether it's through his poetic words or if it's through his skillful tongue, and now is no different.

your chest heaves as the coil in your stomach tightens as you feel yourself getting closer to your breaking point. you're entirely convinced that the world's stopped around you, and that there's nothing but you, dazai, and his lips in the universe.

if death was like what you were feeling right now, then by all means, you were entirely willing to give up your life for pleasure like this. the feeling of transcendence from your spot beneath dazai to a world above was unlike any other, and only dazai could take your hand and lead you there.

"eyes on me, darling," dazai murmurs, voice barely audible over the smutty noises coming out of your mouth. somehow, his voice is steady, and if you weren't so fucked out, you'd overthink this by leaps and bounds.

you chant his name like a prayer as you fight to keep your eyes open. you want nothing more than to tilt your head back and close your eyes, but somehow, you're certain dazai would end this torturous, hedonistic moment if you were to disregard his words.

blind faith was stupid, so stupid, but times like these would make you follow dazai anywhere. his words, his lips, his eyes, all of it. who were you, a mere mortal, to resist his decadent charms?

"more," you whisper.

he gives you more. dazai fucks you until your vision is hazy and you can't feel anything but him, and when you finally start to come down from your hour-long high, you're met with the sound of his sultry laugh.

"you wanted this, didn't you?" dazai breathes, eyeing you intently.

you nod, unable to do much more than that. dazai hums in reply, lean body collapsing on top of you. his mind is spinning, processing thousands of little details and thoughts all at once. his head hurts, his body's sore, and he's tired and ready to sleep, but one look at your fucked-out smile and he's hungry for more.

dazai presses his lips to your bare shoulder, and maybe you're imagining it, but you sense an undertone of self-satisfaction in what he whispers next.

"that's what i thought."

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pin-k-ink · 5 days

Text

labyrinth // illumi zoldyck

tw ⇢ stalking, obsessive behavior, dub-con, toxic relationship, violence(?), emotional manipulation kinda, implied captivity, porn with plot, unprotected sex, fingering, begging, childhood friends to lovers, illumi being delulu just as every character i write

wc ⇢ 6.8k

a/n: god i am weak for this man

The forest was your home, your little sanctuary. You'd practically grown up there, spending countless hours exploring its lush greenery and hidden trails. It was a place where you could escape from the grueling responsibilities and expectations placed upon you as a young assassin-in-training. And throughout all those years, you had always shared this special place with the only person who truly understood you and allowed you to be yourself: Illumi Zoldyck.

You recalled those early days with Illumi fondly, a time when he wasn't the cold-hearted killing machine he is now. Back then, he had been such a sweetheart, always looking out for you and making sure you were safe and happy. Whenever the two of you ventured deep into the forest and lost track of time, it was Illumi who would gently take your hand and lead you back home before the darkness fully settled in. He was the one who would pluck delicate flowers and weave them into your hair, his deft fingers working with surprising tenderness. And whenever you felt insecure or doubted your own beauty, Illumi was quick to reassure you, his genuine praise and adoration leaving you feeling cherished and loved.

Though he never admitted it out loud back then, to Illumi, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. His actions spoke louder than any words ever could.

Under Illumi's guidance and unwavering support, you flourished, growing into a more confident and capable version of yourself. He brought out the best in you, both as a person and as an assassin. However, looking back, you realized there were signs and hints of the darkness lurking within him that you hadn't fully grasped at the time.

Everything changed when Illumi went missing for nearly a year. His family, always fiercely protective of their own, refused to let you into their estate or divulge any information about his whereabouts. You were left to worry and wonder, your heart heavy with each passing day without any word from your dearest friend.

When Illumi finally returned to the forest, it was as if a stranger stood in his place. Gone was the warmth and affection that once shone in his eyes whenever he looked at you. Instead, his gaze was distant and cold, devoid of the spark that had made him so special to you. In its place was a cool, assessing gaze that seemed to look through you rather than at you. The innocent, carefree boy who used to fill your days with laughter and adventure had vanished, replaced by a hardened, unreadable man.

Despite the drastic change in Illumi's demeanor, you refused to give up on him. You clung to the hope that somewhere deep inside, the old Illumi still existed, buried beneath the layers of emotional detachment and rigorous training. You treated him with the same love and care as before, even though he no longer seemed to reciprocate in the same way.

Training with Illumi became a rarity, and when you finally convinced him to spar with you after months of pleading, it was evident that he was holding back, his movements restrained and calculated. Determined to prove yourself, you pushed harder, your pride fueling your desire to land a solid hit. In response, Illumi swiftly disarmed you, twisting your arm behind your back in a move that left you vulnerable and slightly pained.

The moment a small yelp escaped your lips, Illumi's demeanor shifted. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and suddenly, he was dropping his weapon and spinning you around to face him, his usually impassive face etched with concern. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice holding a trace of the old Illumi you remembered so fondly.

Without waiting for a response, he gathered you into his lap, his fingers gently skimming over your skin as he searched for any signs of injury. When his hand reached your wrist, the one he had twisted moments ago, you couldn't help but hold your breath as he raised it to his lips. With a tenderness that left you breathless, Illumi began to place soft, reverent kisses along your inner wrist, his mouth brushing over your pulse point before trailing over your palm and fingertips.

He paid special attention to each callus and bruise, his lips mapping out a path of worship across your battle-worn skin. It wasn't until you gently pulled your hand away, your face flushed and your heart racing, that he finally stopped.

"What the hell was that?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling slightly as you cradled your hand against your chest. Illumi, seemingly unfazed by the intimate moment, simply handed your weapons back to you and helped you to your feet, his expression once again unreadable.

After that incident, you no longer asked Illumi to train with you. Instead, he began to invite you along on missions, providing you with an escape from the constraints placed upon you by your own family, who still clung to the outdated belief that women had no place on the battlefield.

Illumi became your ticket to freedom, even if he himself remained emotionally distant. He would sneak into your room under the cover of darkness, whisking you away to far-off locations where you could put your skills to the test without fear of reprisal from your family.

The short missions he selected allowed you to return home by morning, and on the days when he had no assignments, Illumi would seek you out in the forest. Though your time together was no longer filled with training, you found solace in his presence as you poured out your heart to him, sharing the mundane details of your life.

As you talked, Illumi would often lay his head in your lap, his dark hair splayed out like a pool of ink against your thighs. You would card your fingers through the silky strands, marveling at how much he had changed and yet, in some ways, remained the same.

"You should grow it out," you murmured one day, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Illumi's eyes flickered open, their intensity catching you off guard as he stared up at you.

"You want me to grow out my hair?" he asked, his voice low and serious, as if your answer held the weight of the world.

"Y-yes?" you stammered, suddenly unsure of yourself under his unwavering gaze.

Months passed, and your routine with Illumi continued. It wasn't until one day, as he lay with his head nestled against your stomach, that you noticed his hair had grown past his shoulders, the ends brushing against your skin like whispers of silk.

"Your hair," you commented softly, your fingers threading through the lengthened strands. "It's gotten so long."

"You told me to grow it out," Illumi replied simply, as if that explained everything. And in a way, perhaps it did.

Along with the changes in his appearance, Illumi developed another habit. Whenever he went on missions without you, he would bring back small tokens – souvenirs of a sort, though they were far from the typical trinkets one might expect.

These mementos ranged from blood-stained lockets to priceless artifacts, each one a macabre reminder of the lives he had taken. Once, he even presented you with a family photograph, the smiling faces of his latest victims staring up at you from the glossy paper.

You had declined that particular offering, and Illumi had disappeared without a word. You worried that you had offended him, only to be startled awake late that night by a scratching sound at your window.

When you investigated, you found Illumi standing outside, a squirming bundle in his arms. He had gone back and kidnapped the family dog, presenting it to you with an air of solemn determination.

Though his actions were often baffling and his demeanor remained inscrutable, you couldn't help but find a certain charm in Illumi's unconventional displays of affection. It was clear that, in his own way, he still cared for you deeply.

But the true depth of your feelings for each other remained unspoken, buried beneath layers of duty and the weight of your shared history.

Then came the day that changed everything. After months of separation, you finally had the chance to see Illumi again, your heart brimming with news that you knew would alter the course of your lives forever.

With a voice that trembled despite your best efforts to keep it steady, you met Illumi's gaze and spoke the words that would shatter the fragile equilibrium you had built together:

"I'm getting married."

The words hung heavy in the air between you, a leaden weight that seemed to steal the very breath from your lungs. For a long moment, Illumi remained perfectly still, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.

"Married?" he repeated, his voice flat and emotionless, betraying none of the turmoil you were sure must be raging beneath the surface. "To whom?"

You swallowed hard, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap. "It's an arranged marriage," you explained, your words tumbling out in a rush. "My family... they've been planning it for months. I only just found out."

Illumi's gaze never wavered, his face an unreadable mask. "I see."

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You longed to reach out to him, to bridge the sudden chasm that seemed to have opened up at your feet, but something held you back.

"Illumi," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I..."

But before you could continue, he was rising to his feet, his movements graceful and fluid despite the tension that radiated from every line of his body.

"Congratulations," he said, his tone clipped and formal. "I'm sure you'll make a lovely bride."

And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the forest like a wraith. You sat there for a long time, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite name.

In the days that followed, you threw yourself into the preparations for your wedding, determined to push all thoughts of Illumi from your mind. But even as you selected flowers and tried on gowns, you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

It wasn't until the night before your wedding, as you sat alone in your room, staring blankly at your reflection in the mirror, that a familiar figure appeared at your window.

Illumi slipped into your room as silently as a shadow, his dark eyes finding yours in the dim light. For a moment, you simply stared at each other, the weight of all that had been left unsaid hanging heavy in the air between you.

"I have a mission," Illumi said at last, his voice flat and emotionless. "I thought you might want to accompany me, for old times' sake."

You hesitated, your heart torn between the desire to be with him and the knowledge that you had a duty to fulfill. But in the end, the pull of your history together was too strong to resist.

"Alright," you agreed, rising to your feet. "But I need to be back before morning. I can't be late for my own wedding."

Illumi's expression remained impassive, but you thought you caught a flicker of something in his eyes - anger, perhaps, or pain. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and he simply nodded, motioning for you to follow him out into the night.

As you made your way through the darkened streets, a sense of unease began to settle over you. Something about this mission felt different, though you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was.

It wasn't until you arrived at your destination - a small, nondescript apartment building on the outskirts of town - that you realized the truth.

"Illumi," you said slowly, your heart beginning to pound in your chest. "What are we doing here?"

He didn't answer, simply led you up a flight of stairs and down a narrow hallway. When he stopped in front of a door and produced a key from his pocket, you felt a sudden surge of panic.

"Illumi, what is this place?" you demanded, your voice rising in pitch. "What's going on?"

He turned to face you then, his expression as cold and remote as you had ever seen it. "This is your new home," he said simply. "You'll be staying here from now on."

You stared at him in disbelief, your mind reeling as you tried to make sense of his words. "What are you talking about? I can't stay here, I have a wedding to attend. I have a life to get back to."

Illumi's gaze bore into yours, a flicker of something dark and possessive in his eyes. "You don't have to go back," he said, his voice low and intense. "You can stay here, with me. We can be together, like I've always wanted."

A chill ran down your spine as the realization dawned on you. Illumi's feelings for you ran deeper than you had ever imagined, and now, he was trying to keep you here against your will.

"Illumi," you said, your voice trembling. "I care for you so much, but I don't love you. Not in the way you want me to."

For a moment, Illumi's mask slipped, and you caught a glimpse of the pain and desperation that lurked beneath the surface. But just as quickly, his expression hardened, and he took a step towards you.

"You will love me," he said, his voice quiet but filled with a chilling intensity. "In time, you'll see that this is where you belong. With me."

You backed away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Illumi, please, don't do this. Let me go."

But he shook his head, a small, humorless smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I can't do that," he said. "I've waited too long, wanted you for too long. I won't let you go now."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that you were trapped. Illumi had planned this all along, had lured you here under false pretenses so that he could keep you for himself.

As he advanced on you, his dark eyes glittering with a possessive light, you knew that you would have to find a way to escape. Because the man standing before you now was not the Illumi you had known and cared for.

Your mind raced as you tried to think of a way out of this situation. Illumi stood between you and the door, his body language making it clear that he had no intention of letting you leave.

"Illumi, please, think about what you're doing," you pleaded, trying to keep your voice calm and steady. "This isn't right. You can't keep me here against my will."

But Illumi merely shook his head, his expression unwavering. "You'll understand in time," he said, his voice soft but unyielding. "This is for the best. For both of us."

He took a step towards you, and you instinctively backed away, your eyes darting around the room in search of an escape route. But there was nowhere to go, no way out except through the door that Illumi now blocked.

Desperation clawed at your throat as you realized the hopelessness of your situation. You had always thought of Illumi as your friend, someone you could trust and rely on. But now, as he stood before you, his eyes dark with a possessive hunger, you realized just how little you truly knew him.

"If you do this," you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady, "you'll regret it. You'll lose me forever, Illumi. Is that really what you want?"

For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes, a momentary hesitation that gave you a glimmer of hope. But then his jaw tightened, and he shook his head once more.

"I won't lose you," he said, his voice low and intense. "I can't lose you. You're mine, and I won't let anyone else have you."

He reached for you then, his hand closing around your wrist in an iron grip. You struggled against him, but it was no use - he was too strong, too determined.

As he dragged you deeper into the apartment, your heart sank with the realization that there would be no escape, no rescue. Illumi had planned this too well, had made sure that no one would come looking for you until it was too late.

And so, as Illumi pulled you into a small, dimly lit room and pushed you down onto a narrow bed, you forced yourself to take a deep breath, to clear your mind of the panic and fear that threatened to consume you.

As Illumi stood over you, his gaze intense and unwavering, you could sense the turmoil raging within him. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered to the small box on the nearby dresser, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. The Nen needles. A part of him desperately wanted to use them, to ensure that you would never leave his side.

But just as quickly as the thought had crossed his mind, Illumi dismissed it. He knew that you were too familiar with his technique, having learned it alongside him all those years ago. You would detect the needle's presence easily, and any trust that remained between you would be shattered irreparably.

Instead, Illumi sat down on the edge of the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a gentleness that caught you off guard. "I don't want to force you," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to choose to stay with me."

Despite the fear and confusion swirling within you, you couldn't help but lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments. When you opened them again, Illumi was watching you intently, his gaze filled with a longing that made your heart ache.

In the days that followed, a strange sort of routine developed between you and Illumi. He would leave early in the mornings, off to attend to his duties as an assassin, but he always made sure to return by nightfall. You spent your days exploring the small apartment, marveling at the care and attention to detail Illumi had put into creating this space for you.

There were bookshelves lined with your favorite novels, a closet filled with clothes tailored to your exact measurements, a room filled with all the souvenirs Illumi brought you, and a kitchen stocked with all of your favorite foods. It was as if Illumi had been studying you for years, memorizing every little detail about you.

At night, he would cook dinner for the two of you, his movements precise and graceful as he navigated the kitchen. You would sit at the counter, watching him work, and for a moment, lost in the domesticity of it all, you could almost forget the circumstances that had brought you here.

As the weeks passed, you found yourself drawn to Illumi in ways you had never expected. He was attentive and gentle, always seeming to know exactly what you needed before you even had to ask. He would hold you close at night, his arms wrapped around you as you drifted off to sleep, and in those moments, you could almost believe that this was where you truly belonged.

But then the morning would come, and reality would come crashing back down around you. You were still a prisoner, still trapped in this apartment with a man who refused to let you go. And no matter how tender his touch or how sweet his words, you knew that you could never truly be happy here.

One night, as you lay in bed beside him, Illumi turned to you, his eyes searching your face in the dim light. "Do you think you could ever love me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, your heart constricting painfully in your chest. "I don't know," you answered honestly, your voice trembling slightly. "I care for you, Illumi. I always have. But this... this isn't love. This is something else entirely."

Illumi was silent for a long moment, his gaze never leaving yours. When he finally spoke again, his voice was soft and tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache. "I know," he said. "But I can't let you go. I won't."

And with those words, you knew that your fate was sealed. You were bound to Illumi, now and forever, trapped in a twisted love story that could only end in heartbreak. But even as despair threatened to overwhelm you, a small part of you clung to the hope that someday, somehow, you would find a way to break free.

Until then, you would endure. You would survive. And you would never stop fighting for the life you had always dreamed of, even if it meant leaving behind the man who had once been your everything.

You seized your chance on a crisp autumn morning, slipping out of the apartment while Illumi was away on a mission. Your heart raced as you navigated the unfamiliar streets, every shadow and sound making you jump with fear. But beneath the terror was a flicker of hope, a small, stubborn flame that refused to be extinguished.

For days, you ran, never staying in one place for too long. You knew Illumi would be searching for you, his skills as an assassin making him a formidable pursuer. But you were determined to outmaneuver him, to find a way to disappear and start anew.

As the weeks turned into months, you began to breathe a little easier. You found work in a small town, renting a tiny apartment under an assumed name. Slowly, you started to build a life for yourself, one free from the suffocating weight of Illumi's obsession.

But even as you tried to move on, thoughts of Illumi never strayed far from your mind. In quiet moments, you would find yourself wondering where he was, what he was doing. A part of you missed him desperately, longing for the comfort of his embrace and the familiar rhythm of your life together.

You tried to push those feelings aside, to remind yourself of the fear and desperation you had felt in those final days at the apartment. But late at night, when the world was still and silent, you would sometimes allow yourself to imagine a different life, one where Illumi's love for you wasn't tainted by darkness and obsession.

Miles away, Illumi was unraveling. The apartment felt empty and cold without you, every room a reminder of your absence. He spent his days searching for you, his nights poring over maps and surveillance footage, desperate for any clue that might lead him to you.

As the years passed, his obsession only grew. He became a ghost, a shadow of his former self, his every waking moment consumed by the need to find you. His family watched with mild interest, whispering amongst themselves about the toll your disappearance had taken on him.

But Illumi barely noticed them, his mind fixed solely on you. He replayed every moment of your time together, analysing every conversation for hidden meanings, every gesture for signs he might have missed. He cursed himself for not using the Nen needles when he had the chance, for not ensuring that you could never leave his side.

In his darkest moments, he would imagine finding you, dragging you back to the apartment and never letting you go. He would make you understand, he told himself. He would make you see that you belonged with him, that your love for each other was something rare and precious, worth fighting for.

But as more time passed with no sign of you, a small, insidious doubt began to creep into Illumi's mind. What if you truly didn't love him? What if all of his efforts, all of his sacrifices, had been for nothing? The thought was too painful to bear, and so he pushed it aside, burying himself even deeper in his search for you.

It was on a moonless night, as you lay in your bed, that you sensed his presence. Your heart raced as you sat up, your eyes straining to see in the darkness. And there he was, standing in the shadows, his gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that stole your breath.

"Illumi," you whispered, your voice trembling. "How did you find me?"

He moved towards you, his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. "I never stopped searching," he said softly, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek. "I couldn't let you go."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments. When you opened them again, Illumi's face was mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

And then, before you could even think to resist, he was kissing you. His lips were soft and insistent, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. For a moment, you lost yourself in the sensation, your body melting against his as years of pent-up longing and desire came rushing to the surface.

But as Illumi's hands began to roam, sliding beneath the thin fabric of your nightgown, a flicker of unease stirred within you. Something about his touch felt different, almost clinical in its precision.

And then, with a sudden, sickening jolt of realization, you understood. The Nen needle. Illumi was trying to use one of his needles on you, to bend your will to his own and ensure that you would never leave his side again.

Panic surged through you, and you wrenched yourself away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. "No," you gasped, backing away from the bed. "I won't let you do this to me."

Illumi's eyes narrowed, his hand still outstretched. "Y/N, please," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I love you. I just want us to be together."

But you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. "This isn't love, Illumi," you said, your voice breaking. "This is obsession. And I won't be a prisoner to it any longer."

With those words, you turned and fled, racing out of the apartment and into the night. You ran blindly, your feet carrying you through the darkened streets, your mind reeling with the horror of what had almost happened.

You didn't know how long you ran, or how far. But when you finally came to a stop, your lungs burning and your legs aching, you found yourself in a place you hadn't seen in years.

The forest. The place where you and Illumi had first met, where you had spent countless hours together as children, exploring and dreaming and falling in love.

The forest was a blur of green and brown as you ran, your feet pounding against the damp earth, your lungs burning with each ragged breath. The trees seemed to close in around you, their branches reaching out like grasping fingers, as if trying to hold you back, to keep you from escaping.

You risked a glance over your shoulder, your heart hammering in your chest. You couldn't see him, but you knew he was there, somewhere in the shadows, tracking your every move. You had always known it would come to this, that he would never let you go, not really.

The leaves rustled overhead, a whisper of sound that made your skin prickle with fear. Was it just the wind, or was it something else, something more sinister? You forced yourself to keep moving, to focus on the path ahead, on the faint promise of safety that lay beyond the trees.

But even as you ran, you could feel his presence, like a weight pressing down on you, a shadow that clung to your every step. He was relentless, unstoppable, a force of nature that would never rest until he had you in his grasp.

You had thought you could outsmart him, that you could outrun your past and start anew. But now, as the forest closed in around you and the sound of his footsteps echoed in your ears, you realized the terrible truth.

He would always be there, lurking in the darkness, waiting for you. And no matter how far you ran, no matter how hard you tried to escape, you would never truly be free.

The snap of a twig behind you made your heart lurch in your chest. You whirled around, your eyes wide with terror, searching the shadows for any sign of movement. But there was nothing, only the endless sea of trees and the suffocating silence of the forest.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm the frantic pounding of your heart. You had to keep going, to push yourself harder, faster. You couldn't let him catch you, couldn't let him drag you back to the life you had fought so hard to escape.

But even as you turned to run again, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was already too late. That no matter what you did, no matter how fast you ran, he would always be right behind you, a shadow that would never let you go.

You pushed yourself harder, your muscles screaming in protest as you tore through the underbrush. Branches whipped at your face, leaving stinging cuts on your cheeks, but you barely felt the pain. All that mattered was getting away, putting as much distance between yourself and him as possible.

But then, in a cruel twist of fate, your foot caught on a gnarled root, sending you sprawling to the ground. You hit the earth hard, the breath knocked from your lungs, your ankle twisting painfully beneath you. You tried to scramble to your feet, but your leg wouldn't support your weight, and you fell back to the ground with a cry of pain.

Fear coursed through your veins like ice water as you heard the sound of footsteps approaching, steady and unhurried. You crawled forward, dragging yourself through the dirt and leaves, desperate to put some distance between yourself and your pursuer. But it was no use.

A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and slender, with long black hair that fell like a curtain around his face. Illumi looked down at you, his expression calm and unreadable, as if he were merely out for a leisurely stroll in the woods.

His voice smooth and cold as silk. "You didn't really think you could run from me, did you?"

You stared up at him, your heart pounding in your throat, your body trembling with a mix of fear and exhaustion. "Illumi," you whispered, your voice barely more than a rasp. "Please, just let me go."

He crouched down beside you, his movements graceful and deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey. "Now why would I do that?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "You belong to me, Y/N. You always have."

He reached out, his long fingers brushing against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw. You flinched away from his touch, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. He had you trapped, and you both knew it.

"I've been searching for you for so long," Illumi murmured, his eyes boring into yours. "You've led me on quite the chase. But it ends here, Y/N. You're coming back with me, where you belong."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "No," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I can't go back. I won't."

Illumi's lips curved into a smile, but there was no warmth in it, no mercy. "You don't have a choice," he said softly. "You never did."

He reached for you then, his hands closing around your arms like steel bands, dragging you to your feet. You struggled against him, but it was like fighting against a wall of stone. He was too strong, too fast, too ruthless.

As he pulled you through the forest, his grip unyielding, you felt a sense of dread settle over you. You knew where he was taking you - back to the Zoldyck estate, back to the life you had fought so hard to escape.

The house loomed before you, a dark, foreboding presence amidst the trees. Illumi dragged you inside, ignoring your protests and pleas for mercy. He pulled you up the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the silence, until you reached his room.

He pushed you inside, locking the door behind him with a soft click. You stumbled, your injured ankle throbbing with pain, and collapsed onto the bed, your chest heaving with exertion and fear.

Illumi stood over you, his eyes glittering with a possessive light. "This is where you belong, Y/N," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. "With me, forever. And I'll make sure you never forget it again."

You closed your eyes, a sob catching in your throat as you realized the hopelessness of your situation. Illumi would never let you go, never allow you to escape the twisted love he had mistaken for devotion.

And as he lowered himself onto the bed on top you, his hands reaching for your wrists once more, you knew that your fate was sealed. You belonged to him, body and soul.

Your fate was sealed. Your freedom was gone. And there was no escape.

The weight of Illumi's body pressed down upon you, pinning you to the soft mattress beneath. His scent enveloped you, a heady mix of cologne and something uniquely him - dangerous, alluring, inescapable. In the dim light of the room, his eyes gleamed with a dark intensity, boring into your very soul.

"Please..."

But Illumi's hands were already on your wrists, his long fingers encircling them like shackles, holding you in place. His lips found yours, demanding and possessive, stealing the very breath from your lungs. You could feel the heat of his skin against your own, the racing of his heart as it beat in tandem with yours.

There was no escaping his love, no denying the depth of his feelings for you. It had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to consume you both.

"I love you," Illumi murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

It was a confession, a plea, a desperate attempt to make you understand. He loved you more than anything, more than anyone. His love was a force of nature, all-encompassing and inescapable, and it would never let you go.

And even as you lay there, trapped beneath him, a part of you understood. Deep down, in a place you had tried so hard to deny, you knew that your own feelings for him ran just as deep.

It wasn't just obsession that bound you together.

It was love.

True, twisted, all-consuming love.

The kind that could never be let go of, the kind that would follow you into the afterlife.

Illumi's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. His touch was gentle now, almost reverent, as if he were handling the most precious thing in the world.

"I love you, too,"

And as Illumi's mouth claimed yours once more, as his hands began to roam over your body with a fevered urgency, you knew that there was no going back. You were his, and he was yours, bound together by a love that defied reason and logic.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the years you had spent running from him, not the life you had tried so hard to build without him. All that existed was the feel of his skin against yours, the heat of his breath mingling with your own, the overwhelming sensation of being loved so completely, so fiercely, that it burned away everything else.

You surrendered to him then, your body arching against his, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The world outside ceased to exist, fading away until there was nothing left but the two of you, lost in a passion that consumed you both.

And so, as Illumi's hands slid beneath your clothes, as his lips traced a burning path down your neck, you gave yourself to him completely. You surrendered to the love that had bound you together, the love that had haunted your every waking moment.

Your heart raced, your breath coming in short gasps as he explored your body with a desperation that matched your own. The last vestiges of your sanity were torn away as Illumi's fingers dipped between your legs, stroking your clit with a skill and precision that left you reeling. He dipped his fingers inside you, his lips sucking another mark onto your collarbone, letting out a soft groan as he feels your tight, velvety walls squeeze around his fingers.

You cried out his name, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His touch was overwhelming, but it wasn't enough. You needed more, needed to feel him, needed him to consume you.

As if reading your mind, Illumi's fingers curled inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your head fell back, and you arched against him, desperate for release. He picked up the pace, sinking his teeth onto your jugular just as begins to drill his fingers into your sopping wet pussy, the soft squelches emanating throughout the room.

Illumi pulled away, and you felt a twinge of disappointment. But it was soon replaced by anticipation as you watched him undress. His body was a thing of beauty, lean and powerful, his skin smooth and flawless. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes slowly traveled lower, fixing on the faint trial of black hair growing beneath his navel, disappearing below the waistband of his pants.

"Illumi," you whispered, reaching out to him. "Please."

He was on you in an instant, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. His hands roamed your body, teasing and tormenting, leaving you aching for more. He moved down, his tongue tracing the curves of your breasts, the hollow of your navel, the juncture of your thighs.

You trembled with desire, your need for him growing with every passing second.

"Illumi, I can't... I can't take it anymore," you gasped, your body on fire.

He rose above you, his dark eyes glittering with passion. He reached down and stroked his cock, and you could see that translucent droplet of precum pearling at the tip.

"Say it again," he growled, his voice husky with desire.

"I can't take it anymore," you repeated, barely able to get the words out.

"You want me," he said, a statement, not a question.

"Yes, yes, I want you."

With a groan, Illumi entered you, filling you completely. You clung to him, your legs wrapping around his hips, your body arching against his.

It was as if you were made for each other, your bodies fitting together perfectly, the friction between you building with every thrust. Your moans mingled, your breath coming in ragged gasps, as you raced toward the peak of pleasure.

Then, as Illumi's hand reached between your bodies to stroke your clit again, the dam finally broke, and you fell over the edge, crying out his name. Your body shook, your muscles tensed, as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Illumi's climax was just as intense, his hips thrusting against yours as he spilled himself inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his body trembling with the force of his release.

In that moment, there was nothing but the two of you, bound together by love and desire. It was everything you had dreamed of and more.

"I love you."

#hxh x reader #hxh #hxh x reader smut #hxh smut #hxh illumi #illumi x reader #illumi smut #illumi x reader smut #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader smut

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wmarximoff · 1 year

Text

𝐤𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭 | 𝐰. 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

summary: to get what she wants Wanda will do anything - including hurting you.

warnings (18+): smut, strap-on sex (r receiving), non-con, a bit of dacryphilia, breeding kink, loss of virginity, forced pregnancy, toxic relationship, manipulation, heavy angst. MINORS DNI.

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 3k

masterlist|

(please, don't flag the work)

༺ᱬ༻

At dawn, gray and foggy, the bitter winter temperature would arduously exceed the limitations of common sense degrees demarcated by popular thermometers.

The vehement peak of the serene dawn, as placid and peaceful as it ever was to be, had been swallowed up by a broad blanket of white, chaste snow; blizzard which had interspersed, crossing from north to south along the entire longitudinal extent of the ten thousand hectares located near the tiny town of Westview, New Jersey. You weren't born in there and, in fact, you barely knew that place at all.

The whiteness of sprays of snow in flakes of polished ice continued to crumble through the openings of the dense clouds, and a pale veil of frost took more and more possession of the tiles above the roofs and the tops of the enormities of the hills around the town, inferring a white and crystalline color.

You retained your own private assumptions about the phenomenon, however, and attributed it to increasingly distressing global warming (come on now Tony Stark, you could very well reverse global warming if you really wanted to!). But maybe you still held such a mundane concern at your core just to keep a sober dose of normality within you, and not give in to the long chants of long lonely days, as maddening as they could be.

The days that had passed gradually slipped one over the other, consubstantiating, consolidating into a single amalgam, and you no longer knew what to do to ward off the acute boredom that was consuming your nerves little by little like an autoimmune disease – there was no book to read or movie to watch that would wriggle your soul out of the lonely corners of a world you'd been segregated into, walls slowly closing in around you one by one. You were alone. Utterly alone.

Through the dim glass of the wide window of your solitary room, you gazed, with your gaze watered by the apathy that is intrinsically sprinkled in your irises and sluggish limbs and heavy in your joints like lead, the occluded sky of dawn – the few gloomy trees raised in the neighborhood surroundings like fortresses of dark, thick foliage, swaying on their own axes as the constant wind dictated outside their painted plaster walls.

With a sliver of fresh skin on your right temple pressed against the cloudy glass, so cold to the touch, your dead eyes followed the willow tree of snow outside as if it were natural, as if it was common to snow at that time of year and as if she wasn't using the situation to her whim, wherever she was at that moment, as much as she was everywhere at the same time.

Right, screw global warming. You were living like a little snowman cloistered inside your own particular snow globe – free from your point of view, but trapped inside the dome.

The truth was that Westview was a huge board full of pieces all situated in their proper squares, the vast majority composed of pawns as maneuverable and disposable as they could be, endlessly, always ready to be used and discarded and then replaced – and you were the queen of them, the most important piece to be cherished, but like everyone else, at your core, you would be just another component part of the grand scheme that Wanda Maximoff ruled with an iron fist. One wrong step and you were out, checkmate.

In a time that then sounded remote, an echo of a dream derived from a memory already forgotten, perhaps seven or eight months ago (you only calculated the passage of time by the gradual expansion of your belly, which then encompassed a larger roundness than a basketball), you were free. You were young and you were free and the world was a little less terrible than it could be.

But Wanda had kidnapped so much of you, in fact, disfigured you into a bizarre parody, a grim reflection of who you once were – but of your own free will you gladdened to the end in an elan worthy of praise, in the greatest pose of a soldier who is willing to kill and die for the glory of your people, despite the notion that you were fighting a vain, lost battle.

At the end of the day you were still her possession to be used and abused however Wanda saw fit. She saw everything, and everything she controlled.

You were nothing but a poor college student, still so full of spirit, and your captor was an esoteric entity versed in superhuman capabilities, the wielder of celestial powers who, according to herself, was also a multidimensional traveler – whatever meaning it held, or at least what she meant by such an eccentric statement as that.

All you knew was the things she could do and undo with a simple, banal hand movement, and how it affected you.

The fact was that you were alone, isolated, confined to an unknown town where escape was infeasible and outside contact was nothing short of scarce, subject to the pleasures, daydreams, paranoia and whims of a woman deeply troubled by her own inner demons, that you supposedly hated, but couldn't get away from even if you wanted to. Not when she was growing on you like a parasite, literally and figuratively speaking.

It was clear as the snow outside – conceiving Wanda's offspring in your womb (albeit at odds with your own individual desires at first, but attempts to shed such a burden proved, at first, flatly flawed and highly unnerving to Wanda's exhausted mind, who wasn't used to being a very reasonable person), whom she held so dear, there would be no way to nurture a flame of hatred for that woman that would not be extinguished quickly; no matter how little you knew about her for as long as your pregnancy lasted, Wanda's humanity, so disparate from the morbid cruelty at the bottom of those abyssal green irises, resided in the bosom of motherhood for which she cherished so much.

In the intimate caresses exchanged between her gentle blackened fingertips and your swollen belly, there was a kind of love so subtle and genuine that it almost erased from your memory the fact that you didn't want to be there in the first place. Her contact with that embryo was covered by a lapse of vulnerability, and that's why that witch once proved to have been as human as you were.

At a certain point, goodness was already given for those intentions, when there was not a shadow in her very existence. Deep down you just knew she was good. But it was no use if kindness was eclipsed by a haze of cruelty.

The faint gleam of her smile was enchanting, and the jadish irises were drowned in waves of tears that pooled behind long, thick dark lashes, right at the waterline of the one who so affectionately gazed at your belly by her rotten right fingers. At some point, you knew, you just knew that Wanda had given as much love to the world as she had to the unwanted child in your womb. You wondered what it was that had stolen Wanda's innocence so voraciously that, in the end, she ended up stealing yours too.

“Twins,” in one night she came, and Wanda had smiled at the utterance of her own words, never breaking her gaze from the skin stretched just below your navel, “My boys.”

Her touch felt cold, plastered like a corpse's hand. Everything about Wanda was somewhat cadaverous, reminiscent of the dead – although a veil of purity always overshadowed her dying features (for that witch was indeed beautiful), the dark, sharp circles under her eyes and the deep fleshed cheeks made her a spectral creature, unreal, with the waxy pale skin that so accentuated those emerald eyes that squandered a nuance of intense feeling.

You were never quite sure how to pinpoint what was going on inside her mind, although she always expressed that there was something there to look for.

“How,” you muttered with your eyes focused on anything but her, your shirt pulled up to expose your swollen stomach, not a smile found on your lips' commission to reflect that woman's.

The situation in which everything of the last few months had culminated in your stomach was in knots – the idea that it was done, and now you had nowhere to run from her.

“How can you be so sure, Wanda? Twin boys... that's a pretty... specific guess, I think. It could just be a boy, it could be a girl,” in the room lit by the orange flames of a fireplace that turned Wanda's hair as red as blood, you blinked, “It could be anything.”

“I just know,” lisped the woman who owned the long auburn locks that fell below her breasts, sketching a ghost of a vaguely nostalgic smile on her well-shaped lips, like someone wistfully remembering something that is gone and will never come back.

“I… just know it's them. My… our boys.”

There was a brief pause interspersed by the crackling fire in the dry wood, a breath held within bristling lungs.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

Your eyes finally turned to Wanda, who was crouched in front of you. She looked at you in gleaming green like she did the first time she made you bleed, when she emptied herself inside you, condemning you to that sick moment of intimacy with her.

“I know you don't understand this right now, not this version of you at least, but,” her jaw moved slightly, speaking at length in her speech, as if she were speaking like a child, seeking to express clarity. As if she had to plan her words carefully.

“I love you, детка . Everything I've done so far is because I love you, Y/n. You and our boys, our family. Everything I did was for you. I hope one day you can understand that and forgive me for what I did.”

Your eyes stung and sickly bile rose to the surface of your tongue at that controversial statement of hers. She knew it was wrong, she was fully aware of it. You could never imagine that whatever resulted from that one-sided relationship between the two of you could fall under the nominations commonly associated with the definition of “a family” .

You already had a family to call your own and belong to, a father and mother and siblings too, and from them you were usurped by her. That couldn't be a family, not that relationship structure, not you and her. Not when you weren't even twenty and barely even aware of what, say, Wanda's last name would be.

That night you cried yourself to sleep. And, like every night before that, Wanda listened until you fell into the softness of your own sleep clouded by layers of thick, salty tears.

But the warm, abstruse sweetness behind Wanda's hideous facade made her as seductive as the apple would have been to Eve, and the fragility that rarely saw the light of day made her seem so small compared to the times you feared for your life as she chained her hands behind your back and sternly brought her hips to meet yours over and over again.

You've also heard her cry before going to sleep. It just so happens that she was the one making you suffer, while you just had to put up with her external suffering.

Wanda was a complex puzzle to understand, so fluctuating, fascinating and unpleasant at the same time, like a new flavor to try, bad at first, but then becoming dangerously charming to the palate. And you didn't know whether you wanted to put those pieces together into one uniform image, or throw them in the trash and close the lid.

In fact, if traced back to the beginnings of your gloomy model of relationship (at least in the most primitive sense of the word, summarized only to the exchange of physical touches between two controversial animals, to, moreover, the imposition of physical contact from one part to the other), it was as if Wanda saw what she solemnly did to you as an artifice, a mechanism, a forced method to an end you never chose to have. It was as if she was just performing a necessary sacrifice that justified the means she chose to use.

She apologized again and again because that inside of you stung and hurt when she ripped something inside you, and she worked hard to make you like it too, even though you barely knew her at the time, and in fact just waking up from the stillness of your sleep to the uncomfortable feeling of a foreign body on top of you, with your legs spread wide and streams of fresh crimson blood dishonoring the sheets down your thighs, ripping you in half like no one before her had ever done.

“Shh, it's okay Y/n, it's okay. It's okay, you’re okay детка.”

She lisped that night with the palm of her right hand screwed to your lips, stuffing your protests behind your teeth (scorched-tipped fingers sweeping strands of your hair behind the shell of your ear, Wanda in a red tiara looking like would cry as much as you already did). The first time you saw her, that strange woman invading your room and also you, she seemed as uncomfortable with what she was doing as you felt with her tucked inside your innocence.

“I know it hurts, baby, I know, I…” Green eyes then pulled away from your face contorted in sharp pain, as if, for half a second, she couldn't even look at you in that state. As if, in your room, she would burst into tears with you.

“I'm very sorry. I'm really, really sorry детка , but I have to do this. It’ll pass, alright? Will pass. It’ll fit, we'll make it fit, okay? Just take a deep breath. This will be quick, I promise. I,” Wanda choked on her own words, “I'm so sorry, Y/n.”

And it went on for quite a few sluggish minutes – the headboard hitting the wall rhythmically, hard and slow behind your head, your white cotton underwear crumpled and discarded at the foot of your bed, your eyes focused on how much the sharp points of that scarlet tiara that seemed to protrude from the top of her skull resembled two demonic horns as they rose and fell in the dark of your room, above you.

When your conscience woke up, the very next morning and in a room you were not at all familiar with, the wet pain between your legs was the final sentence given that you were already her property. And you tried to run away, wander the streets of Westview, cry out for help from your new assigned neighbors, but they were smiling like machines, nothing was wrong. Nothing was ever wrong.

And the visits continued, scheduled for sunset; the fall of the veil of night was the apogee of your fate – in that house with dismal walls, dark shadows lightened by the tongues of fire that burned in the hearth, Wanda came in the form of that crimson specter to do what she had to do. And time had washed the regrets from her soul, when did the pleasures of the flesh begin to burn hotter on her skin.

“Dерьмо,” Wanda anathematized one night in a sigh under her breath, moaning in a thick accent in the roof of her mouth as she stood behind you, blackened fingers digging deep into the skin of your hips as hers pierced into yours.

“Dетка, you feel so good, s-so good, Y/n...” she gasped, your white-knuckled fingers screwed to the sheets moving beneath you both, “Fuck, I missed you so bad...”

“I-it hurts,” you squealed beneath her, your right cheek rubbing against your pillowcase, your teeth clenched, your jaw set, “W-Wanda, Wanda wait– go slow, you're– you're hurting me, Wanda, please slow down–”

“I'm going to come,” she suddenly announced, indifferent to your protests, “Fuck, I'm going to come inside you, Y/n.”

The cognition of such a sentence haunted the nerves of your spine. At that point, you already had basic knowledge accumulated about her – she was called Wanda Maximoff, she was from another universe and, as a factor of greater relevance to emphasize, she was capable of performing and handling magic, something that for you, until that moment at the time, was nothing more than a fictitious topic. And, if she was qualified to run an entire city on her own, she might well be able to turn something as frivolous as coming inside you with a fake phallus into a permanent action and one fraught with the most undesirable consequences.

“No-!” you immediately chafed then, trying to crawl your body away from hers on the bed sheets, “Wanda, don't– don't do that– Wanda–!”

But with a pull and a jerk she held you steady, your hips up, ribbons of scarlet energy restraining your wrists bound to the bed, just to the side of both your temples. And the notion that you couldn't even move caused warm tears to pool in the waterline of your eyes, clouding your view of the raised wall to the left of the double bed located in the heart of that partially lit room by the dull bulb of a bedside lamp.

“Hold still, детка, I-I'm almost,” she growled, her hips hammering against yours in essentially violent movements, “Almost there–!”

“No, pull out,” you whimpered, “Wanda, pull out, don't do that, don't do that, Wanda– Wanda, please–!”

“I need to do this Y/n, I fucking need to–!”

“Wanda, please–!”

She didn't pull out. She never pulled out – the point was not to pull out, it was that she emptied herself inside you, painted your insides with that magical secretion that only a few weeks later proved to be appropriate for the purpose Wanda had in mind. And she didn't touch you anymore, not that way, when her goal was achieved – with the plan completed, all she had to do was wait for your organism to do what it had to do. And so the months passed, snow fell on that simulated dome. Her visits weren't as frequent anymore.

“Why me?” you asked her once, as she stroked your belly through your thick crimson wool sweater.

Crouched down in front of the couch, Wanda raised her eyes to you like she always did when she was trying to communicate with the child she had shoved inside you.

“Because I love you,” was her answer, of course. A wave of ominous disgust twisted your insides at that oblivious response, as if Wanda were genuinely alienated from the reality of where she was your captor and aggressor.

“You barely know me, Wanda,” you spat, “And I barely know you. This isn't love, you're using me like a fucking incubator. You’re sick and you fucking know it.”

She lowered her head in front of your prickly speech, a lock of reddish hair piercing an emerald iris of hers, while Wanda's left fingers, dark as pitch, kept stroking your belly through a layer of clothing. She compressed her lips into a long line, and you held your breath. From your point of view, Wanda, stripped of that crimson armor she always wore and then tucked into casual clothes, sweatpants and a sweater as thick as your own, looked small and confused like a child, a little girl.

“You used to know me,” she muttered quietly, “Where I come from, you used to know me. We were married. We had our boys. You... for as long as it took in Westview after I had you back again, you were my world after I lost everything.”

You blinked once.

“Westview?”

She looked at you again.

“Yes, Y/n. Westview. They took you from me, more than once. But the second time they took our boys too. So I,” there was a pause in her speech, “I had to look for you in another reality. In a reality where nothing could ever get out of my control again.”

And for half a second you looked back at her.

“Wanda,” the palm of your right hand slowly snuggled against her left cheek, which approached your touch in an almost pathetic neediness, when was it that you looked into her eyes, “You’ll never have control over me, no matter how hard you try.”

She closed her eyes as a tear trickled down her cheek.

“I know.”

When the twins were born, you didn't want to hold them. And, begrudgingly, Wanda understood. She understood that she could never have you, not after what she had done to you, but to her consolation at least there were those boys left for her.

And she had been benevolent in letting you go, as if she had released a bird from its caged captivity, erasing from your memory any and all discernment of what your relationship had been like for ten months or so, abstracting from the confines of your mind the idea of how much she had harmed you by excluding herself from your memory. You went back to your old life, and she started a new one.

Time has come and gone. You had no sense of the past, and no one in your social circle even seemed to notice your absence for nearly a full year – it was like a dream, a memory, a lie. A kind of collective amnesia. You moved out of your parents' home after graduation and obtained a steady job in your field of work. And, after a while, you decided that it might be good to share your life with a second person – soon enough, a relationship blossomed between you and a dark-haired woman you met during a snowy winter day in a coffee shop.

Your girlfriend was a few years older than you and a single mom, but it turns out you got along great with her kids, and she was the best partner anyone could ask for. And when, on a warm summer day in the city park, Wanda offered you a strawberry ice cream cone right after presenting Billy and Tommy with their respective favorite flavors each, you genuinely smiled at her.

“Thanks, baby,” and then, you kissed her on the cheek. Billy asked Tommy to play tag, and the older twin accepted.

Wanda smiled at you. She smiled at you as if she didn't know how much she had already hurt you. “You’re welcome, детка.”

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fuckaperioddrama · 22 days

Text

Slytherin Boys Birth Chart Predictions

Warnings: Mentions of Rough Sex | Toxic Traits | Negative Parental Relationships | Some Sad Vibes. Emotional Struggles. | Let me know if I missed something.

Proofread, but there's always the possibility of mistakes.

Masterlist

Note: I already posted my predictions for Mattheo and Lorenzo's Birth Chart, but I'm still including them in this post. However, I did explain some things in their chart a little better/added some things. Very minor adjustments.

This will not include their signs in Pluto, Uranus, Saturn, Neptune, or Jupiter. I am willing to explain those signs as well if asked. Those placements deal more with life philosophies/spirituality and those aren't things I feel compelled to talk about in this post. I do have to explain Theo's Saturn sign at the end and since Saturn is determined by the year you were born you could fit that placement in with all of them. Depends on where you view them age-wise and generationally.

Some of them have the same placements so when I explain the traits of that placement I'm saying similar things in the other chart. In saying that, my explanation of why I think these placements fit them are all different despite having the same placements. This is because the way they portray their placements can vary based on the rest of their chart. I didn't want to summarize the traits for the next chart in case someone just wanted to look at one specific person and not all of them.

Rising Sign: Your Rising sign is how you project yourself onto others both physically and in your initial greeting.

Sun Sign: Your Sun sign is your core personality, the side you show most of the time.

Moon Sign: Your moon sign deals with your deepest and most raw emotions.

Mercury Sign: Your Mercury sign involves the way you communicate and think.

Venus Sign: Your Venus sign is how you love both platonically and romantically.

Mars Sign: Your Mars sign deals with sex and aggression.

Chart Ruler: You find your Chart Ruler by looking at your Rising sign. Find the planet that rules your Rising Sign. Let's say your Rising is in Cancer. Cancer is ruled by the Moon. Therefore, your Chart Ruler is whatever placement falls into your Moon sign. If you're a Virgo Moon, then your Chart Ruler is your Virgo Moon.

What's a Chart Ruler? The captain of the ship. The other placements help out and have a say now and then, but your Chart Ruler is the leader and the main decision-maker. This is important to know because someone with otherwise very kind placements might fail to show that if their Chart Ruler is the opposite.

Mattheo Riddle

Rising: Aries

Ruling Planet: Mars

Aries Risings are known to have sharper and more prominent noses as well as a sharp chin and jawline. These are physical traits I associate with Mattheo Riddle. Mattheo Riddle has passion and determination. These traits are associated with Mars. They have this innate desire to be free and go through life at their own will. They don't want to conform to the social norm and are often people who go through tasks head-on without seeking others for assistance. I believe Mattheo does give off this overall 'tough guy' act. Upon first meeting, you can tell he's very free and independent.

Sun: Scorpio

Ruling Planet: Mars

Scorpios are fiercely loyal which is a trait I’d associate with Mattheo. He would never betray his loved ones and he would never abandon them either. Scorpios are honest, determined, brave, and intuitive. Mattheo doesn’t shy from giving his opinion, he doesn’t back down from a challenge, and he gets what he wants. He pays attention to things around him and keeps a mental note of everything he notices. This is very Scorpio-like behavior. Scorpios are also jealous, possessive, controlling, emotional as fuck, manipulative, calculated, petty, resentful, and they make you jump through hoops for them to open up to you. But the second you mess up? Even once? You’re done. Cut off. Good luck ever getting them to open up again. I feel I don’t have to explain why these traits fit Mattheo.

Moon: Capricorn

Ruling Planet: Saturn

Capricorn Moons are naturally responsible, disciplined, and are very hard workers; but they get in their heads and struggle to show those traits. Capricorn Moons are happiest when they’re succeeding in life so if for some reason they believe they’re failing then they can become very troubled emotionally. I think this fits Mattheo so well. He's so smart and has so much potential, but he doesn't do anything with it. He knows he has no true direction or good purpose in his life (yet) and that knowledge can bring down his mental health. Capricorn Moons remain composed when truly threatened. While Mattheo’s anger is explosive, he becomes very stone-cold when something serious happens. A person with a Capricorn Moon also tends to have a poor relationship with their father. They might have felt a lot of pressure in their relationship and high expectations.

Mercury: Gemini

Ruling Planet: Mercury

These people are curious, social, and quick-witted. I think Mattheo is a very social person when he's in a good mood. He's super charismatic and articulate. Mattheo also has this natural curiosity. He's always doing something and doesn't shy away from an adventure. Someone with this placement can also have issues handling their anger and frequently in arguments will say incredibly hurtful things. They don't mean to or want to say these things, it's just in the heat of the moment. Mattheo's anger can be very explosive and unintentional; meaning he finds it hard to consider feelings other than his own.

Venus: Cancer

Ruling Planet: Moon

I know this is a very 'soft' placement. I think Mattheo is a very sweet person, he just carries a lot of unresolved trauma that covers all that up. Someone with a Venus in Cancer is very obvious about their loyalty. You just know they wouldn't abandon you. They're very nurturing and sensitive. Mattheo is fiercely loyal and even though he may not know how to show it, he does care a lot and he wants to help and take care of the people he loves. These placements can also be very clingy and I think Mattheo is a needy person even if he won't admit it. He would stick to his partner like glue and it would be a little overwhelming. A Cancer Venus can also be fiercely protective and extremely jealous.

Mars: Aries

Ruling Planet: Mars

These people are short-tempered, reckless, impatient, and so competitive. They can be such assholes and they tend to make a lot of mistakes because of how brash they can be. I just think this is very Mattheo. He does not think anything through when he's angry. He attacks first and asks questions later. These people are often very driven, confident, and can be very assertive. This can translate over to their sex life as well. Usually very dominant in the bedroom. Very high stamina. Hard and fast. Passionate. They love some good angry sex.

Chart Ruler: Mars

Mattheo's Chart Ruler is his Mars in Aries. I think this is important to know for Mattheo because he does try to get better, but that angry impulsiveness that comes from his Mars in Aries really shines through.

Blaise Zabini

Rising Sign: Taurus

Ruling Planet: Venus

Taurus risings are known to have a sturdy appearance, nice skin, and attractive facial features. Blaise fits these features in my mind. He's very attractive and presents as very put together. They're very practical and loyal people. I think Blaise has a laid-back nature, but he doesn't appear careless. He gives off this energy that's very straightforward and unwavering. Taurus Risings also appears very graceful and gentle. Blaise seems like someone whom you can approach. He gives off a very trustworthy aura.

Sun Sign: Sagittarius

Ruling Planet: Jupiter

Sagittarius Suns are very passionate people. They're very philosophical and they think and feel things deeply. Blaise is someone who is very outside of himself. He is not the center of the world, the world is his center. He thinks about everything and everyone. Sagittarius Suns are also very adventurous. While I see Blaise as someone who may not outwardly go to parties or big social events, he seems like the kind of guy who would want to see the world. This placement is also known to have an excellent sense of humor and I think Blaise is a naturally funny guy. Negatives? Brutally honest. They're not going to lie to you to make you feel better. They're impatient and very stuck in their ways. Their idea is the best. Also MAJOR commitment issues. IT'S SO CRAZY. A Sagittarius settling down????? And who fits these traits? Blaise.

Moon Sign: Virgo

Ruling Planet: Mercury

Virgo Moons are caring people. It's in their nature and they just want to be there for you. Very intuitive and somehow always know what people need. They mainly like to take care of people by doing things for them. Acts of Service. They have a very gentle nature and are very responsible. Not someone to lash out a whole bunch. Virgo Moons are also very judgmental and they're very bad at opening up when they're upset. They expect perfection, but instead of communicating what their idea of perfection is they just get angry that people can't figure it out on their own. This is very personal in how I specifically see Blaise. I think that he has such an idealistic view of not only himself but also his mother, that anyone who isn't like him or like his mommy just isn't as good as them. In saying that, Virgo Moons are also known to have had very good relationships with their mother. Their mom helped shape them into strong and determined people in terms of personal goals.

Mercury Sign: Pisces

Ruling Planet: Neptune

Those who have their Mercury in Pisces are very intuitive. They can have a deep understanding of the world and the people in it. However, they are very secretive when it comes to this. They're not outwardly trying to get to know you, they're just observing from afar. Blaise notices everything, but no one notices that he does. He doesn't seem like he's paying attention, but he is. These placements also daydream a lot. They might struggle to be practical or serious at times and tend to try to escape the reality around them. I think when Blaise is put under pressure he spaces out and goes into his world or tries to make a joke of the situation. Sometimes it can be really hard for him to stay focused and serious.

Venus Sign: Taurus

Ruling Planet: Venus

A Taurus Venus is very upfront with their feelings. They're honest in how they feel and they expect the same from their partner. This Venus sign also has Taurus which rules Venus meaning love comes easy to them. They can catch feelings very quickly. They're committed to their partner and they love to spoil them and themselves at the same time. Fancy restaurants, spa days, luxury vacations, etc. They want to enjoy the finer things in life and they want to enjoy it with others. They're more likely to get lavish gifts for their friends as well. Blaise's taste is more refined, he doesn't want to take his partner or friends to the club. He prefers more relaxed and 'high-class' activities. These signs can also be stubborn with their love. Since they know they know fall in love easily they tend to take a while to let people in just so that they know they're with someone they fully trust. A Taurus Venus can also have a hard time letting go. If they don't want the relationship to end they'll manipulate the other person into staying with them even if they try to leave. If the relationship becomes toxic they'll embrace it if it means not losing the person they love. Blaise would be careful who he lets in, but he struggles to let go if a relationship isn't good for him. He'll just keep going, even if it hurts him.

Mars Sign: Scorpio

Ruling Planet: Mars

Passionate and persistent. Having your Mars in Scorpio makes you a naturally dedicated person. These people have no problem working towards their personal goals. These placements also have a very hard time handling their anger. They let it fester inside of them until it comes out in petty arguments. Either that or they'll just completely ghost you. Sometimes Blaise struggles to communicate his feelings and would often rather avoid a situation than face it head first. A Scorpio Mars would rather sit in their anger than try to solve it. Sexually? Very passionate. They put their all into whatever they're doing and are extremely indulgent. They want to feel, touch, and enjoy the moment. This sign can go in different directions based on how they perform. Meaning this sign can be rough, soft, dom, sub, etc. You can figure that out through other elements in their chart. The sexual desire thing that comes from a Scorpio Mars is just wanting to enjoy it.

Chart Ruler: Venus

Blaise's Chart Ruler is his Venus in Taurus. This means he's driven by loyalty and love. He likes to take care of those to him, but since he has so much love to give he's very careful about who he lets into his life. He leads with his heart and is at more of a risk of heartbreak. It makes sense for him to be lead by love and compassion despite his trauma or tougher placements.

Draco Malfoy

Rising Sign: Leo

Ruling Planet: Sun

These placements have long and narrow noses followed by very expressive eyes. This part isn't true for every placement, but they typically have blonde hair. Very Draco Malfoy. These placements can be strong-minded and often make their intentions clear. There isn't a lot of guessing that comes from trying to figure out what these placements want, they'll usually tell you or show you outwardly. When they're at their best mentally they can be very generous and confident. They like to take care of people. However, if they're going through a tough time it's a complete switch. They don't care about anyone's feelings but their own. They don't care about remaining a good friend, partner, etc. They will let anyone and everyone down if it's in service of themselves. If they're in a bad mood then everyone is in a bad mood. Draco can be very sweet, but only if he's in the mood to be sweet.

Sun Sign: Gemini

Ruling Planet: Mercury

These people are very charming and witty at their core. They can charm a whole room of people and get them to do exactly what they want. They're highly intelligent and very communicative when it comes to their wants or desires. This goes in with his Rising and Draco overall being very indulgent when it comes to himself and allowing those to see into him. If he's jealous and/or wants to obtain something specific he is going to let everyone know. Very boastful. He wants to be seen succeeding. However, if need be they will hide their true intentions to get what they want. They will use you, manipulate you, and charm you to the highest extent if it'll help them achieve their goals both personally and socially. Draco likes to gloat, but he knows when it's time not to. He knows how to twist things. around to get others to do his bidding and make himself seem like someone whom you should be standing beside.

Moon Sign: Cancer

Ruling Planet: Moon

These placements are protective of the one they love. Very motherly people and will go to far lengths to make sure those they care about are safe. A Cancer Moon can also be super sensitive to things around them. They pick up on shifts in energy very quickly and seem to always know what is wrong. In my mind, Draco is someone who naturally takes care of those in his inner circle. Maybe not in the nicest way, but he still does it. These placements can also have a very hard time taking things too personally. If you hurt their feelings then whatever warmth they once had has been completely erased. It's very easy to offend them. They often will ignore logic and reasoning because they're too focused on their own feelings. Amazing relationships with their mothers. The relationship is filled with a lot of love and devotion, especially on their mom's part. Most likely coddled by their mother.

Mercury Sign: Leo

Ruling Planet: Sun

These signs are very passionate in the way they talk and think. Their voices aren't often monotone and they usually are expressive. They are very confident people because they hold their own opinion in the highest regard. Rejection might upset them, but it won't make them think less of themselves. The only time it will is if it's someone they look up to. Draco’s confidence is reflected on how he feels about himself and I think whenever he talks he commands a lot of attention. A Leo Mercury can be a huge drama queen. The most minuscule thing could happen to them and they are wailing and having a full-blown temper tantrum. They have a very commanding voice, which can be a bit of an annoyance when they're acting out. Draco Malfoy can be such a BABY!

Venus Sign: Taurus

Ruling Planet: Venus

A Taurus Venus is very open about what they expect from their partner. They can be very impatient and don't like to go after people who make them chase them. This placement falls in love very quickly, but won’t always show that. They like to keep their distance to protect themselves. Draco is very cautious when it comes to love. These placements like to spoil the people on their life as well as themselves. Draco likes to live in luxury and his inner circle would also see the benefits of that. Finest restaurants, best clothes, luxury items. Only the best for those they care about.

These placements are very stubborn in the way they love. They grab onto their partner and they don’t let go. Huge attachment issues and will not end the relationship. I think Draco wouldn’t leave someone he cared for, even if they were toxic towards him. He has this unwavering loyalty that can occasionally cause him pain.

Mars Sign: Libra

Ruling Planet: Venus

Having your Mars in Libra can be very hard. Venus is the opposite of Mars and Libras feel this natural need to conform whereas Mars as a whole is all about freedom. This makes someone with a Libra Mars very easy to manipulate. They're not going to fight back, they're going to conform. This placement can also be very secretive and reckless. They're more likely to be unfaithful to their partner or lie to them in some way. They won't feel bad about it because they're extremely arrogant. Draco is very confident and he doesn't let just anyone boss him around. Although, if there is someone who is important to Draco or carries a lot of influence in his life he's not going to stand up to them. He will conform and he'll do whatever task they ask of him, regardless of whether it'll make him a bad person or go against what he wants. However, these placements can also be very romantic and charming. They can easily capture someone's heart if they try to. Very passionate lovers. They like to please their partner and will often let the needs of their partner take charge of whatever they're doing. (i.e. adaptable. rough when they need to be. soft when they need to be. sub/dom when they need to be. Yes, I think Draco is a switch.)

Chart Ruler: Sun

Draco's Chart Ruler is his Sun in Gemini. I think although he has a lot of rather emotional placements, his Gemini Sun can really shine through in helping him stay composed until he's able to break down in his own time. This applies mainly to his deeper emotions.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Rising: Virgo

Ruling Planet: Mercury

They usually have straight noses, prominent cheekbones, and an overall angelic-looking face. Lorenzo Berkshire. Virgo Risings possesses a sharp mind and can pick up on things quickly. I think Enzo is very smart and when he doesn't know something it doesn't take him long to figure it out. They're very aware of their surroundings and the people around them. Enzo can be a little aloof, but I feel like that's only when he's around trusted people. He's not like that right away. Virgo Risings can also be very caring when they want to be and I think Enzo is an asshole, but he still cares for the people he loves at the same time. Virgo Risings are the definition of the 'nice asshole.'

Sun: Aquarius

Ruling Planet: Uranus

An Aquarius Sun is very clever, honest in their opinion, and very confident. They like to push boundaries. I think Enzo has this constant thirst to be different. He wants to emphasize his individuality. He's not some random person in the halls, he's Lorenzo Berkshire. He's confident in his abilities and he's not afraid to say it or show it. He doesn't believe in blending in. This placement also has a major God complex. They become irritated when someone goes against them and sometimes they'll just completely blow them off and disregard their feelings. I think Enzo is the type of guy to do this. These placements can also come across as very detached. They like to be entertained in their conversations. If you're boring them then they don't want to talk to you. Enzo doesn't try to spare people's feelings if he's not interested in them.

Moon: Gemini

Ruling Planet: Mercury

A Gemini Moon thrives in social settings and they can be very chatty. They have this natural humor that captures a crowd. I think Enzo does have this charming side of him that shows through a lot. Gemini Moons exceed in making themselves the most sought-after person in the room. They talk to you in a way that makes you feel desired and lucky that they're even talking to you. Gemini Moons are also very fake. I know that's an annoying Gemini stigma, but it's true. They say what they need to say to get what they want or please who they want. Enzo is a very manipulative person. A lot of his charm comes out when he wants to use it to his advantage. They can be very indecisive, inconsistent, stubborn, and moody. Sometimes Enzo can be a little all over the place. He says something one day and then another thing completely different the next. It all depends on how feels that day. He's super stubborn and overall he's a pretty emotional guy which is very like an Aquarius Moon. This placement has a complicated relationship with their mother. They might have felt they were very busy and sporadic, never really focused on being a mother and more on other tasks.

Mercury: Leo

Ruling Planet: Sun

A Leo Mercury knows how to work a crowd. They’re very expressive and passionate people. They’re bold and yet refined. I think Enzo can be very passionate and yet sophisticated in his speech. He just has a voice that commands your attention and he’s able to make you believe anything he says. He always sounds like he knows best. He sounds believable. People with these placements can also be very arrogant and self-centered. They tend to completely disregard other's feelings and can be huge drama queens. Enzo can get into his head and not think of anyone else around him a lot of the time. He gets overly emotional and creates this whole victim complex that he's not afraid to share with others if it's to his benefit.

Venus: Aries

Ruling Planet: Mars

An Aries Venus is all about the chase. They like the feeling of pursuing someone, but they can get easily bored once actually in a relationship. They need someone who consistently excites them. They’re furthermore very blunt when it comes to expressing their desire. Huge flirts. This placement is a hopeless romantic and they fall in love very quickly, but don’t get too excited because they’re in love with five other people too, and the next day? They’ve already moved on. It’s like you never existed. They won’t even look at you. Enzo is definitely like this. I feel like he obsesses over a new person every five minutes. It’s the same with friendships. They need someone who excites them. They usually befriend interesting or dynamic people. They'll go through friendships so easily if the person begins to bore them. Once they do start to genuinely let someone into their life completely? You’re not leaving. These signs lock you down and they WILL go after anyone and everyone who tries to take you away. Lots of jealousy. Remarkably loyal and will do anything and everything for you.

Mars: Sagittarius

Ruling Planet: Jupiter

Mars in Sagittarius is super passionate and yet indifferent at the same time. They have this list of stuff that they really care about and if it’s not on that list then it doesn’t matter to them. I think Enzo can be very aggressive if someone pisses him off and some things will immediately set him off. Sometimes he can be selective on who he allows to make him angry. He doesn’t take disrespect, but he doesn't let himself give that person strong reactions. He saves that for the serious stuff, a lot of his anger comes off as very cold and detached. I mentioned this in my headcanons, but I think Enzo recognizes that there’s power in being able to upset someone. So with this Mars placement, he’s able to step outside of himself and remains composed so that he’s able to maintain his power. Once again though, if it’s something he truly cares about then it’s explosive. He gets so angry and is very quick-tempered when it comes to the stuff on his list. Sexually? They’re very direct. They tell you what they want and what they want to do. They like exciting sex and aren’t very vanilla at all. Can be MAJOR freaks.

Chart Ruler: Mercury

Enzo's Chart Ruler is his Mercury in Leo. This makes sense for Enzo because he's naturally very charming, alluring, and expressive. He has placements that can be major red flags, but he's able to hide that just through the way he communicates with people. He can talk his way out of anything.

Tom Riddle

Rising Sign: Gemini

Ruling Planet: Mercury

Gemini Risings' are often characterized as being very tall and slender. They're graceful in the way they move and express themselves. This is how I imagine Tom to be. They are very articulate and have a special talent for language. They can pick up on any language very quickly. (Parseltongue) A Gemini Rising is naturally very charming and cunning. They can make a lie sound believable to anyone. You do not want to get on this person's bad side because they will find a way to ruin your life without you even realizing it until it's too late. No one would ever believe you over them. Tom is SO manipulative. This fits him. A Gemini Rising will tend to go through many physical changes during their lifetime and alter their image on numerous occasions. Constantly evolving. 👀

Sun Sign: Capricorn

Ruling Planet: Saturn

These placements are extremely hard workers. They're very ambitious and disciplined; however, they can have a hard time being this way if it's something they don't want to do. They don't want to work hard at something they don't care about. I think Tom works hard, but there’s absolutely no way he’s putting ANY effort into something he doesn’t care about. Not unless doing so will benefit him in some way. These signs are perfectionist and because of that, they can be very negative people. If something isn't exactly how they want it to be then it's really hard to make them happy. Almost impossible. A Capricorn Sun is also extremely loyal, but it takes a while to that point. They don't open up easily, but once they do? Till death do you part.

Moon Sign: Scorpio

Ruling Planet: Mars

A Scorpio Moon has a scary amount of intuition. They know everything and the most terrifying part is that you don't even know how they know everything. Tom is terrifying because he knows everything. He can se into peoples minds and figure out their true intentions. Scorpio Moons are one of the hardest workers. They are determined and do whatever they need to do to get the job done. Whatever they need to do. Very Tom Riddle.

These placements are very passionate. Some would say too passionate. They love deep and hate deeper. Everything they feel is heightened. Very addictive personality and are prone to obsess over everything.

Scorpio Moons have a complicated relationship with their mother. They might reject the notion that they have any sort of feelings towards their mother, but that's not always true. Growing up they might have felt as if their mother was never there for them and that can fester into resentment or anger. Tom pretends not to care about his mom and he pretends to hate her, but really he’s just angry that she didn’t stick around for him.

Mercury Sign: Taurus

Ruling Planet: Venus

Taurus Mercuries are very direct and forward in their way of doing things and how they achieve them. They can be very reliable people when given a task, never failing to accomplish anything they set their mind to. If Tom says he's going to do something then he's going to do it. There aren't any questions about his ability to perform any task he puts his mind to. Tom is someone who is very blunt and direct. This is a very stubborn placement. They do not like to listen to the opinions of others and can react VERY harshly when challenged. A Taurus Venus will often obsess over their social standing. They aren't comfortable being in subordinate positions. They want fame, power, and control. Tom isn't just anyone else and he will stop at nothing to achieve the recognition he believes he deserves.

Venus Sign: Virgo

Ruling Planet: Mercury

Someone with a Virgo Venus can be a very devoted partner. They're very detail-oriented in their relationship and like to make sure everything is perfect. When they do something for their partner they will take preventative measures to make sure everything goes according to plan. These placements are also extremely picky. They have this vision in their head of who their perfect partner is supposed to be and they will not settle for anything less. These placements are comfortable being alone. and would never spend time with someone if they didn't want to. Tom has high standards; not just with his partners, but also with his companionships. He will not settle for less than he deserves and he has no problem expressing that.

Mars Sign: Scorpio

Ruling Planet: Mars

Passionate and persistent. Having your Mars in Scorpio makes you a naturally dedicated person. These people have no problem working towards their personal goals. Scorpios are arguably one of the most hard-working signs in the Zodiac and this shines through with Tom. Most of his passion goes into achieving his goals. These placements have a very hard time handling their anger. They let it fester inside of them until it comes out suddenly and they have no problem cutting people off. They won't say anything. They'll just leave. Tom would not stay with someone who consistently challenged or upset him. Sexually very passionate. They put their all into whatever they're doing and are extremely indulgent. They want to feel, touch, and enjoy the moment. There are certain elements of sex that Tom needs to enjoy to be satisfied. He likes pushing his sexual partner to their limits and he likes having control. He needs to experience that. Indulge in it.

Chart Ruler: Mercury

Tom's chart Ruler is his Mercury in Taurus. I think this makes a lot of sense as his main focus and drive are shown through the way he talks and thinks. Also going back to people with that placement wanting to be at the top. Tom is driven by his desire to rule the world. That comes before all else.

Theodore Nott

Rising Sign: Capricorn

Ruling Planet: Saturn

Capricorn Risings usually have a strong bone structure. This shows mainly in their jawline and cheekbones. Their eyes are intense and piercing, making them have a more serious and intimidating look. I would say this matches up pretty well with Theo. This placement thrives in workplace or academic settings and this is something I think fits Theo. He's very smart and he does best in settings where he's able to show that off. Very quick-witted and have a rebuttal for any argument thrown at them. A Capricorn Rising can be a little difficult to approach because of how strong their energy is. They appear very stoic in their initial meetings. They are not someone who shows their emotions, oftentimes remaining very cold towards others. They don't smile or laugh often. It's usually very random and you'll have to pay very close attention to them to catch any sort of shift in their mood.

Sun Sign: Taurus

Ruling Planet: Venus

Someone with their Sun in Taurus can often be seen as very serious. They're very serious and determined and do not joke around when it comes to things they want. Sometimes they can seem very detached, but that's because of their talent for separating their emotions. They're able to compartmentalize to get things done and often don't show their frustrations until they want to. If they want to. Taurus's are also very goofy. It comes across as a bit of a shock because of how serious they are and they somehow manage to look composed even when doing something crazy. They have this very unexpected humor. Theo does have a very serious and detached nature, but he's very funny and does possess the ability to let loose and be crazy. He just doesn't feel the need to show that side to everyone. A Taurus ALWAYS has to be right. It doesn't matter if they know they're wrong because they'll never admit to it. They're very jealous and possessive. They can be very lazy and extremely aggressive. It's not always explosive aggression, but it is always very scary. Very Theo-like behavior.

Moon Sign: Scorpio

Ruling Planet: Mars

A Scorpio Moon is very intuitive. They notice things about people that no one else can pick up on. Theo likes to sit back and watch. He watches how people react to things and how things unfold. Due to this, he is very good at being able to read people. People with this placement are determined and will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. Theodore Nott does not back down. Once he decides he wants something he goes for it. These placements also experience every feeling with great passion. This has its positive and negative traits. It's easy for them to obsess over their feelings. They go from 0-100. They either care way too much or not at all. They struggle to find that healthy balance. Theo is very passionate about what he loves and hates. Once he cares, he jumps fully in. Scorpio Moons have a complicated relationship with their mother. They might reject the notion that they have any sort of feelings towards their mother, but that's not always true. Growing up they might have felt as if their mother was never there for them and that can fester into resentment or anger. I think Theo resents his mother for dying and leaving him. He knows it's irrational, but he can't help it.

Mercury Sign: Aries

Ruling Planet: Mars

Someone with this placement is a very good problem solver. They're extremely innovative and can always figure out a solution. I see Theo as someone who has this natural leadership. He's a good decision-maker and can think of new ways to do things. Very good at thinking outside the box. These placements can also be very argumentative and blunt. They won't shy from speaking up or defending themselves against someone. They have a really hard time holding their tongue when challenged. Theo might be quiet, but he is not someone to be messed with. The second someone steps out of line he will, without hesitation, put them in their place and he will do it in the harshest way possible.

Venus Sign: Leo

Ruling Planet: Sun

A Leo Venus is very expressive in their love and often doesn't feel the need to hide their partnerships. Both platonically and romantically, they take a lot of pride in who they surround themselves with. They have good intentions and are very meticulous with what they give to show their love. They put a lot of thought into their actions. When they're in love they are fully dedicated. They prefer to take the lead in the relationship and enjoy spoiling their partners both materially and with their affection. Theo likes to take care of his partners and show them off. Gifts, making out in public, he doesn't care. His only concern is giving his partner some love. Those with Venus in Leo can also be very vain and can sometimes only consider their personal feelings. They are extremely jealous and possessive and will act out when they feel as if someone is trying to take their partner or if they feel as though their partner isn't paying enough attention to them. They'll blow things way out of proportion and create a lot of drama. Theo.

Mars Sign: Aquarius

Ruling Planet: Uranus

Aquarius Mars is a detached placement that doesn't typically get too fired up. However, they do not like to feel challenged. They have very powerful minds and strongly value their freedom. They're very original thinkers, often not seeing things the way others do. They rebel against what's expected of them and enjoy staying a mystery. They don't want people to guess their next move. Theo does not like being tied down. He wants his freedom and he wants to remain someone that people want but are never able to get. These placements feel invincible. They will do whatever they want and say whatever they want because they think there will be no consequences. Once you challenge that they will either completely lash out or full-on ignore you. It's very hard for them to see past their ego to maintain peace. An Aquarius Mars needs mental stimulation during sex. It isn't just about touching, they need to hear every moan, whimper, and plea to get turned on too. They like to pleasure their partner because they like to know they're doing a good job. Big on dirty talk and being praised.

Little Explanation

Saturn: Your Saturn sign reflects your sense of responsibility as well as your limitations and fears.

Saturn is Generational. Let's go back to the books. Harry Potter was born in 1980. Theodore Nott was in the same year as Harry Potter and is projected to have been born between 1979 - 1980.

From July 26th, 1978 - September 21st, 1980, Saturn Was in Virgo. This means the people born in that time have their Saturn Placement in Virgo.

Someone with their Saturn in Virgo is very crafty. They can take nothing and still find a way to achieve exactly what they need. However, this placement needs a lot of encouragement. They are their own worst critics and think nothing they do is ever good enough.

Chart Ruler: Saturn

Theo's Chart Ruler is his Saturn in Virgo and this makes a lot of sense because although he does have a lot of confident placements, he struggles to see past his insecurities. He can't always see how good he is.

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strniohoeee · 3 months

Text

Web Of Desire Pt. 2

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader (part 1)

Synopsis: Chris thinks he can escape the grasp of Y/N, but she’s always two steps ahead. The heart wants what it wants, and she will stop at nothing to have it🗡️

Warnings⚠️: Psycho Y/N, manipulative Y/N, death threats kinda??. Toxic Y/N. Tbh I think that’s it just a whole lot of crazy bitch!

Song for imagine: He Needs Me- Punch-Drunk Love, Tarantula Girl- Violent Vira

Tags: @eyelessdemon @sleepysturnss @megamett44-lover @breeloveschris @mattslolita @dsturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @sturniolosstar @mayhem-72 @vicxzc @creamoncreamoncream2

I won’t know why I knew he needed me

It could be fantasy, oh

Or maybe it’s because

He needs me, he needs me

It’s been a month since Chris was left in that bathroom. Confused, angry and annoyed. He did not like Y/N. She was a friend, but ever since her psycho antics he couldn’t bear the sight of her. Nick and Matt still loved her because she played the normal girl act a bit too well.

Y/N however couldn’t be more ecstatic. Her mornings became brighter as she’d awake with a smile on her face. Smelling her roses in her bedroom. Encased in a beautiful pink vase with a bow wrapped around them. Signed “from Chris” on the note attached. A note she of course placed on those roses that she purchased herself. Singing and dancing like a cheesy 80s movie. She felt on top of the world.

Spending most of her days with Nick, Matt and Chris. Getting to force words out of Chris’ mouth because he couldn’t ignore her infront of his brothers. She very well used this to her advantage, often placing her hand on him, offering him compliments and even cornering him at times.

Chris wanted nothing more than to block her number, her socials and honestly from his life completely, but he couldn’t. And because of this he knew she was feeding off of it. Calculating her moves perfectly and Chris caught himself in her webs time and time again.

Heading into his bedroom after showering, a towel hung on his waist as he dried his hair with a towel. Lowly rapping some Lil Skies song as he opened his bedroom door. Flicking on the lights and shutting the door behind him. Trotting over to his full length mirror, looking up to catch Y/N sitting on his bed.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asks turning around to face her

“No way to talk to your pretty girl” she says pouting at him

“Not my pretty girl” he states bluntly

“That towel is hanging awfully low” she states biting her acrylic nail flirtatiously

Looking down to realize what he was wearing he grabs onto the towel and rushes into his closet. Rummaging through his clothes to find an outfit.

“Why are you here?” He asks the girl

“Well we have a party to go to don’t we?” She says giggling

“I have a party to go to not you” the boy states as he grabs a pair of pants

“Well Nick invited me as well, so looks like it’s our party” she says to him

“Can’t you just go away. Take the hint and leave me alone” he replied angrily

“I told you Christopher….you're stuck with me for good” she says laughing once again

“Stay the fuck away from me tonight, or so help me I’ll-“ but he was cut off by the young woman

“Or you’ll what? You think you can threaten me? Please I’m the master manipulator here you can’t use my own tactics against me” she says dryly

Emerging from the closet with his outfit on and his socks and sneakers in hand. Rolling his eyes at the girl as he sits at the edge of the bed.

“Sick bitch” he says under his breath

“Awww Chris” she says crawling over to him and placing her hands on his shoulders

“Get off of me” he says as he shrugs her arms off of him

“Play nice” she says through gritted teeth as she sinks her fingers into his shoulders harder causing him to wince

“Just one night. Leave me alone” he says shaking his head

“Behave and I’ll make all your wishes come true” she replies placing a kiss on the back of his neck

“I don’t have to abide by you” he says as goosebumps form against his skin

“Can’t say I didn’t try” she replies with a smile getting off his bed and heading towards his door

“I promise to leave you alone” she states as she begins to walk out

“Thank you” he says as she walks out and shuts the door behind herself

However Y/N didn’t plan on playing nice. She loves the chase and honestly Chris was the best candidate for that. An evil plan was cooking up in her brain as she skipped up the stairs to wait in the living room. If he wanted to play hard to get then so be it, but he better be watching his back all night.

Y/N knew she was a difficult girl and she had a tiny bit of an obsession problem, but all she wanted was to be loved. Anger and jealousy began to bubble inside of her as she sat in the back seat with Nick as they headed to the hills. Chris and parties equaled one thing….shitty hookups and that made her stomach twist. If he just listened to her and claimed her as his then she wouldn’t have to ruin his night.

“You okay girl?” Nick asked Y/N, taking into note how fast her leg was bouncing

“Yeah…sorry I was just thinking” she replied smiling at the boy

“Thinking about all the boys you’re gonna pull tonight?” He asked her laughing

“Something like that” she said back laughing with him

“I heard Larray has a friend who’s been super interested in you lately” Matt says from the driver seat

“Really?” Y/N asks almost upset that her plans will be ruined by having to escape from this random guys attempts all night

“Yeah right, you wish” Chris says sucking his teeth

“What’s wrong? Jealous?” Y/N asks the young man with her arms crossed over he chest

“In your dreams” he replied laughing at the girl

“Funny coming from you” she says, almost hinting at something. Which causes Matt to look at her through his rear view mirror

“The fuck are you talking about?” Chris asks her defensively

“Why are you getting so defensive? Not like we did anything Chris. I was simply referring to the fact you think you can get any and every girl” she said smiling at him evilly

Chris stood quiet and Y/N knew she won that argument. He was too afraid to open his mouth, scared he might incriminate himself in front of his brothers. But the silence coming from him was already doing that.

Pulling up to the rooftop party Matt hands his car over to valet and they head up. Immediately dispersing to talk to their friends. Y/N grabbing a drink from the bar as she walked around. Planting her eyes on everyone and her ears as well. The amount of girls whispering about her Christopher almost made her lose it, but she gripped her glass harder and found a corner to sit in.

Sitting in the far back by the glass, looking to her left as she watched LA from above. She thought to herself what if I just accidentally pushed Chris over….because if she can’t have him no one could. Or maybe herself? Smiling at the guilt she knows Chris would feel. Immediately her twisted thoughts were interrupted by a clearing of someone’s throat.

Hoping it was Chris, but disappointed when a rigid boy with black hair stood before her. Immediately fixing her dead gaze, and planting a smile on her face.

“Y/N?” The young man asked her

“That would be me” she replies smiling

“I’m Johnnie….Johnnie Gilbert” he says sticking his hand out for her to shake, accepting his handshake she begins

“Nice to meet you Johnnie, I take it your larrays friend?” She says as he sits down across from her

“Uhh yeah” he says laughing shyly

On any other occasion this would be the exact guy she would obsess over. He was emo, rigid, and mysterious. Except now there was one small problem…. It was Chris who she only cared about.

Engaging in conversation with him and hoping Chris was looking her way. As they spoke her gaze often shifted to that of her surroundings. Looking for her man and only to see him engaged in conversations with a girl. A very pretty girl at that….she hated to admit things like that, but she choked back a scoff.

Her issue was that he could care less about Y/N right now. Looking deep into the mystery girl's eyes and laughing. Actually not even looking anywhere but her. What a slut Y/N thought. Doesn’t she know that he’s hers?

“Johnnie it was great talking with you and you’re a great guy, but I’m kind of seeing someone right now” she says smiling at him

“Oh…I’m so sorry I didn’t know! But consider me a ghost. I’ll catch you around” he says laughing playfully as he waves her goodbye

Smiling at him as he walks away before dropping it. Looking back over to Chris and the girl. To her surprise Christopher was gone. A wicked smile growing on her face.

“Oh would you look at that I need another drink” she states looking at her half full cup. Tossing the rest of the drink over the ledge not caring if it landed on someone.

Standing up and smoothing out her dress before moving through the body’s littering the surrounding area. Trotting over to the bar and standing next to the mystery girl. Waiting for the bartender to come over she looks over at the girl.

Hmmm she looks cheap, she thinks to herself… classic Chris.

“I love your dress” Y/N states to the girl, she looks over and smiles at her

“Thank you” she says nodding her head at her

“Where from? Forever 21?” She asks her cocking her head to the side

“Uhh no Chanel” she states a bit offended

“Hmm” Y/N says looking her over again before motioning the bartender over

“May I have an apple martini please extra sour” she says batting her lashes at him, and he nods a small blush planted on his face

“Hey you wouldn’t say you know where Chris is right?” The girl asks Y/N as she looks back over at her

“Like sturniolo?” Y/N says

“Yeah him” the brown eyed girls says with a smile

“I wouldn’t know we kind of separate at events like this” she says as the bartender slides her drink over to her

“Oh? You came with him?” The girl asks her

“Oh yeah that’s my boyfriend” Y/N says taking a sip of her drink

“Boyfriend? He didn’t say he had a girlfriend” she says furrowing her brows

“Why would you think he came to talk to you as anything other than just being friendly?” She asks the girl as she cocks her head to the side

“Excuse me?” She replies getting offended

Pulling the brown eyed girl in towards her before placing her mouth by her ear.

“I suggest you back off of him” she says with a smile on her face before pulling away

“Or what?” She says laughing

Y/N’s face drops and her eyes go cold. Swiping her tongue over her teeth.

“Follow me” she says to the girl like she has a secret

The girl gets up and follows Y/N to the edge of the rooftop. They both look over at the city.

“Girl to girl, do not go for Chris trust me he’s no good” Y/N says light heatedly

“What do you mean?” She asks her

“He's a major fuck boy and you’re too pretty to get hurt by him trust me. He ruined every girl he’s ever came into contact with” y/n says in a gossip tone

“Wait I thought he was your boyfriend” she replies leaning in to hear her better

“Not yet, but soon to be” Y/N replies back to her as she takes another sip from her drink

“You’re a psycho bitch” she says backing up a bit

“What is it with everyone calling me out of my name? I’m Y/N” she says sucking her teeth and looking up

“I’m going to find Chris” the girl states, but before she could walk away Y/N grabs her

“This ledge is awfully low and we’re awfully high up. I’d say about 100 feet? It would be a shame if an accident occurred…..drunk ol you slipping over the ledge…..don’t you think?” Y/N asks the girl with a devilish grin and excited eyes as her grip became firmer

“WOAH Y/N” Chris says suddenly appearing next to her

“What’s going on with her?” The brown eyed girl says

“I’m sorry she drinks way too much and just talks crazy. She’s super protective over my brothers and I. I’m so sorry” Chris responds to the scared girl

“She’s a psycho” the girl says backing up

“Oh don’t worry it’s just the alcohol speaking! I’ll catch up with you later” he says to girl

He grabs Y/N roughly by the arm and drags out into the lobby. Walking all the way to the end where nobody could hear them. The party was so loud all you could hear was the muffled music and feel the vibrations even at the end of the lobby.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Chris asks her as he roughly throws her back

“There’s no problem baby” Y/N replies sipping her drink as she batted her lashes at him

“Do you know how fucking sick and demented you are? You’re lucky I talked that girl down because this is LA where people know people. If she wanted to, she could have you wiped from everything.” Chris says blinking at her

“That doesn’t scare me” the woman responds shrugging her shoulders at him

“You think I love you and I don’t, get that out of your thick skull. Jesus Y/N you threatened to kill a girl because of your sick obsession with me” he says tapping the girls head

“I wouldn’t have to do that if you’d stop playing hard to get and just be with me” Y/N states finishing her drink

“I can’t be with someone like you, you’re not okay” he says scoffing

“But I am Chris, I’m just crazy about you is all” The girl states innocently

“That’s a lie! You have this image of yourself that’s so fucking sweet and innocent. But it’s bullshit” he says laughing dryly

“How dare you” she says gasping at him

“You think I want all these other girls, and you’re going to do whatever it takes to destroy that” he replies to the girl

“This isn’t about you being a good person and looking out for me or these other girls because I’m a fuck boy, this is about getting what you fucking want” he says stepping closer to the girl

Y/N was truly taken aback by Chris. He usually bit the bullet but for some reason tonight he was letting her have it. She couldn’t figure out why. Might’ve been the innocent threat to that girl….so sad he was there to overhear it.

“You know what you don’t realize Chris? Is that I don’t care what happens to me. I don’t care how angry you get. You’re not good for any of these girls and they’re not good for you, and I will do everything I can to prevent it” Y/N states getting angry but mostly hurt

“Jesus Christ Y/N” he says rubbing his hand over his face

“Truth is I’m not a good person, but all I want is to feel loved…. i just want to be seen” she says as a few tears threaten to fall

“Stop the fucking crocodile tears. This is bullshit” he says rolling his eyes at her

Not biting at her tactics, her face drops and she becomes angry again. From a young age Y/N knew she wasn’t “normal”, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t act it. But everyone’s a little bit crazy right?

“But just give me one chance” she pleads to the boy

“Listen, yes there are many cool things about you, but this weird panning over me is not one of them. I think it’s time we part ways. It would be best for you” he says turning on his heels a bit

Y/N throws her empty glass, the shattering causing Chris to turn back around.

“I DIDNT DO ANYTHING WRONG. WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME IF I DIDNT DO ANYTHING WRONG. I DONT UNDERSTAND I THOUGHT YOU LIKED ME” Y/N yells as anger bubbles in her chest and her breathing began to quicken

“STOP THIS NOW” Chris yells back as he shoves them further into the corner

“YOU ARE NOT LEAVING ME HERE! DONT YOU UNDERSTAND YOU SHOULD BE AFRAID OF ME” Y/N yells as her eyes widen and tears fall from her eyes

“You are not blackmailing me into being with you” he states angrily

“No I’m not blackmailing you…. Blackmailing you means you have no choices, but you do have choices. However you can’t seem to pick the right one” she says to him

“THAT IS THE LITERAL DEFINITION OF BLACKMAIL. IF YOU DONT THIS IM GOING TO DO THAT” Chris yells at the girl

“I DONT CARE IT DOESNT CHANGE ANYTHING” she yells back in a high pitch tone. One that causes Chris to go wide eyed.

“THATS FUCKED UP” he yells back

“You know what’s FUCKED UP CHRISTOPHER? YOU CALLING ME YOUR PRETTY GIRL AND FINGERING ME AND THEN TELLING ME YOU DONT LIKE ME, AND GOING AFTER GIRLS” Y/N yells back at him with a pointed finger hitting his chest

“WHAT THE FUCK……WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? He yells as he bangs his hand against the wall

Y/N backs up relaxing her body as she watches his freak out.

“Okay….bye” she states sweetly as she begins to walk away

But Chris stops her, grabbing her arm. And in that moment she knew once again she won. He loved her just as much as she loved him. A devilish grin plastered on her face as she stood with her back towards him. If he truly didn’t like her then he’d let her walk away.

This was the sick idea in Y/N’s head, but truthfully Chris knew she was mad. Not a normal mad though. But a vengeful mad. He knew if she walked back in that party she’d do something to herself or others. He needed her to calm down.

“No Christopher…. You made it clear you don’t want me” Y/N states bluntly

“I need you to calm down” he says

“I am calm. I’m feeling great actually” she says to the young man

“No you’re not I know you” he states as he pleads with her with his eyes

“If you truly knew me then you’d know just how much I like you. I don’t act like this ever. I’m just trying to get you to see that it’s you and I who should be together” she says giving him doe eyes

“Maybe I don’t know you then” he states shaking his head

“I’d never actually hurt you or harm you. I love you with my whole heart” she says rubbing his cheek with her right hand

“It’s just hard to see that when you want to cause harm to so many people around me” he says rubbing his forehead

“It’s just to mark my territory. Instill fear in people. I don’t want anyone taking my man” she says to him

“But nobody would take me” he says mindlessly

BINGO! She thought. Just like she knew deep in her heart Chris did in fact love her. She knew she was all he ever wanted, but was too scared to admit it.

However Chris was just scared and at this point he’d do anything to be with her. And get her to stop being psycho. If he had to be with her then so be it….

“If I go out with you will you promise to leave everyone alone?” He asks her

“Of course my love” she says batting her lashes at him

“I love you Y/N” he says looking at the girl before him

“I love you too Christopher” she says smiling at him before placing a kiss to his cheek

But there’s one thing Y/N knew and that’s you can’t outdo the doer. You can’t beat someone at their own game, especially if that game is manipulation. She knew he was playing along with her to keep everyone around him safe. She didn’t care because now that she had Chris nobody else mattered. He’d never leave her because he had too much fear in her heart at what she’d do. So once again in her eyes she won.

If you can’t get someone to be with you out of love, then get them to be with you out of fear. That guarantees a lifetime with the one person you’ve truly only ever wanted. Because you know they’ll always come back.

And that my dear is how you master the art of getting a man to fall into your

Web of desire……

The End

WHEWWW CHILEEEE this bitch is crazy. But honestly me too🤞🏽. This is def the last installment of this series. But I can always make more psycho Y/N in other instances in the future. I love yall dearly 🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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daremna · 1 year

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NOTE: Do not take any of this personally, I am not a professional astrologer. I'm also mostly refering to the underdeveloped/immature versions of these placements. If the shoe fits, slay Cinderella, if not, congrats this isn't about you. PS I do not support misogyny!! Most mean girl archetypes are rooted in patriarchal views and villanising femininity, I'm just using these characters for fun and to base some of my observations on.

Aries placements Including 1h and mars. Known as the 'baby' of the zodiac, ruling the head, aries placents can often have an inflated sense of self, petty and childish tendencies. Because they are ruled by mars, they tend to be very easy to anger, argumentative and driven.

1h/aries mercury are straight to the point and will tell you what they really think without sparing your emotions. Will press your buttons just to rile you up and get a reaction out of you.

1h lilith + chiron placements can have have an unstable/toxic relationship with women and be extremely competitive with them. Can receive a lot of unwarranted negativity and jealousy from other women which in turn will make the native see other women as untrustworthy. (I have lilith in the 1h and I've noticed I tend to rub a lot of women the wrong way. My entire school experience was getting bullied and targeted by MULTIPLE women. I've also had to work through a LOT of internalised misogyny).

1h lilith + pluto will have an intense and heavy energy around them whether they like it or not. Command attention in every room. People will fear or respect you, most likely both. They crave power and don't care if they step on anyone along the way. Will get what they want, or else...

Leo placements including 5 house and sun. The stereotypical 'qeen b' sign. Can often struggle with extreme self esteem & self worth issues. When not worked on, they will project their feelings onto other people to regain a sense of power and control.

Narcissistic to overcompensate for what they think they lack in. Similar to Regina George, they will keep people around that they look down on to always feel on top and like theyre the star/ main character at all times. "She's the queen bee - the star, those other two are just her little workers."

They are ruled by the sun, so they feel like the centre of everyone's universe is their rightful place, they can't help it🤷. (Yes, I'm a leo, and what about it?)

Leo risings can have the typical 'mean girl' look. Attitude, confidence, great outfits and big/poofy hair. "That's why her hair is so big, it's full of secrets." Big Shelby Cummings energy.

When paired with aquarius placements, they can have an even more inflated ego. Theyre the two signs with the biggest god complex.

Virgo placements including 6h. The 'know-it-all' of the zodiac. Can come off as pedantic. Trying to outsmart anyone. Big emphasis on virgo mars and mercury.

When paired with leo placements, they can be self-righteous and very judgemental. "I'm just better than everyone" energy.

Scorpio placements can be as fierce as aries placements, as they are both ruled by mars in traditional astrology, but they will mostly keep it bottled up/hidden to maintain their mysteriousness.

Sun-pluto aspects can make an assertive and driven individual.

Scorpio/1h mercury: "So you agree, you think you're really pretty" energy. Calculating and manipulative. Will play mind games with you. Watching your every move. "Gretchen Wieners knows everybody's business, she knows everything about everyone." Like a cat playing with it's mouse.

Can come off as cold and rude at first regardless of their character (especially scorpio rising). But that's just their rbf. Unless you actually give them a reason to dislike you, then all hell freezes over.

Scorpio mars will become vindictive and spiteful. They hold onto grudges like no other. When vengefuly, they play the long game. WILL remember that time you made fun of their outfit when bumping into you 20 years later. Selective memory🙄.

Gemini placements including 3h and mercury. Stereotypically fake and two-faced. A social chameleon. Extremely charming and persuasive. Can have a tendency to lie and gossip like no other, they love the mental stimulation it gives them. They are ruled by mercury, the planet of communication after all.

Mars/Mercury in gemini or in the 3h love to argue for fun. Will start a verbal altercation just for the hell of it, if they're feeling particularly bored. Gemini-mercury placements will come up with the most creative insults lmao. "You put the "suck" in "liposuction" You put the "ooo" in "jiu-jitsu" You put the "ism" in "This is all just a defense mechanism". Truly a poet, they have a way with words.

Not easy to anger. Like they'll fight you but they don't actually care unless you really got to them. The type to make fun of you if you're really angry and riled up.

If paired with scorpio placements, girl........ They can really be scary is all I'm gonna say (and i hate to stroke people's ego's so this should say a lot).

Libra placements including 7h and venus. Ruled by venus the planet of love, and represented by the scales but don't let that fool you. When underdeveloped they can be highly superficial, shallow and fake. Love to gossip.

Libra rising look innocent and sweet, borderline angelic untill you past it and the mirage slips away~ Remember, biblically accurate angels are scary as hell. Can have the typical 'mean girl' aesthetic, very pink and feminine.

Libra mercury/ venus can be a sweet talker, very charming and persuasive.

Heavy moon aspects especially harsh moon-pluto and moon-mars. The 'mommy issues' placements (I'm sorry. Me too tho). Can become manipulative, fake, cold and detached. Can see women as the enemy and fail to make connections with them due to the maternal trauma they experienced. Have a hard time trusting other women.

Capricorn/10h placements can be dedicated and power hungry. Their workaholic tendencies, if mixed with more vindictive placements or character traits can make the person very ruthless. Goal oriented, focused on the bigger picture. Gets shit done, it's not their fault you were in their way. Big Blair Waldorf vibes! “Destiny is for losers. It’s just a stupid excuse to wait for things to happen instead of making them happen.”

“If you really want something, you don’t stop for anyone or anything until you get it.”

Yh you get my point.

Sagittarius placements are known to be brutally honest. Born without a filter, trust them to tell you the truth. Can come off as rude but usually without malicious intent. "What? I'm just being honest." Truth hurts sometimes.

Mercury-mars and mercury-pluto aspects (heavy on the mercury-mars) know exactly what to say to hurt someone. They can say some awful things in the heat of the moment and regret them afterwards. Their comments can really stick with you, they'll go right for the jugular with no hesitation.

*Remember, these are just for fun, based on my own research and observations. I'm not a professional, I don't know shit. There's no such thing as an evil sign, all placements have a dark side. It all depends on you and how you deal with your issues. I have like, a lot of these placements so I'm not targeting anyone*

~Jules💖

Edit: To the one's reposting this on tiktok with no credit, it's pathetic babes, stop. If you're that interested in astrology try coming up with your own takes🥰💋

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milky-aeons · 3 months

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𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑-𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇

౨ৎ . . . following a mission that could have gone perilously wrong, you decided you have had just about enough of DAZAI OSAMU and his manipulative tactics.

warnings: criminal themes, sexual content, arguments, unprofessionalism, swearing, manipulation, emotional dysregulation, pet-names, slight toxic!dazai, power-play, love-biting, female reader, mentions of sociopathy, mdni, w.c 6.2k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ bloody valentine — machine gun kelly ꒱ ˎˊ-

𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 between you two during the walk back to his agency apartment. Mainly, because you made it your mission to walk at least ten steps ahead of him, stubbornly keeping your eyes fixed forward and hands balled. You couldn't believe him, but the thing was, it was so typical of a man like him that you cursed yourself for being so surprised.

What did you expect? Dazai Osamu was a high-functioning sociopath who didn't take human empathy into consideration when making decisions. There was a brief moment where you tried to make an excuse for him — to give him the benefit of the doubt, even though you knew Dazai only made a decision when certain that he was ten steps ahead.

If you made the different choice during the mission today to stop the train, those people would have lived. He did not gamble dozens of human lives on a split-second decision you would have to make.

He did not lie to you about the severity, the stakes at play.

He did not wager human lives like they were mere toy-things, variables in his grand scheme that always worked out so perfectly.

Only that, he did. He absolutely did.

You were sure to slam the door in his face when you reached the apartment before him to show how angry this had made you. No, anger wasn't the word. It was too shallow and weak. The emotion making your chest physically heavy was akin to devastation. A brother so close to betrayal. You were pacing his sitting room with your hands buried deep in your hair when he came in and closed the door softly.

Scream, strangle him, do something, you pleaded with yourself. But everything was racing and your heartrate was speeding just as fast with emotion, so all you could do was continue pacing and breathing, attempting to keep it from crashing down on you.

You could have let them all die.

How was he so sure you would stop the train?

How could he make a gamble like that, only to hinge it all on you?

"Will you allow me to explain?" His voice cut the tense air from far away. It was like the key pulled from a grenade, enough to make you wrench your hands from your hair and pin him down with a sharp look.

"I should." You hissed. "I should demand an explanation from you and nothing short from it. But the thing is, Dazai — I don't know if I can trust anything coming from your mouth right now."

He didn't like that. There was a dark storm in his eyes. Those intelligent, cold and calculating eyes. You wanted to gouge them from his pretty face.

"Perhaps, it would be better for you to calm down first—"

"Calm down? You've been lying to me this entire time and you have the audacity—!"

"I was not lying."

Shock slapped you hard against your face. You openly balked. "Are you seriously lying to me now, of all times, too?"

Calmly, as if you were the only one having a heated argument, his eyes slipped closed and he sighed.

Sighed.

"It is true that the mission today held a certain level of danger, and that the heart of the plan ultimately teetered on what choice you would make." He spoke quickly before you could combust in emotion at that blatant declaration. "But I don't believe I have ever told you that it did not."

"No. You withheld that it was." There was a sneer to your lips. The words you spoke with were a caustic brew as you began to stalk to him.

"That's the thing with you," Both your hands came up to the side of your face in a squeezing, frustrated gesture. Like you could curl your fists and punch him and his impassive stare. "You keep things from people. It's like you figure everything out and get joy from watching everyone else struggle to do so. The information you keep is how you're so indestructible — to the Agents, the Higher Brass, the Police Force, the fucking Port Mafia, Dazai. It's because you leverage information they don't think you know in times where it benefits you!"

A pause as he stared right at you and didn't even flinch. You wanted to shake him. You wanted to scream.

"Is that what you wanted to do to me?" Such a careful question you asked in a shaky, barely controlled whisper. "Have this information over my head until it benefited you? So you could just use me as some—some sort of—!"

The question was a snap that made him move. Walking forward, devouring the distance with his long legs. Startled, you took a few steps back, but you didn't back down.

"[Name]-chan — Bella," He said evenly. You hated that nickname. You hated how controlling he sounded when you were about to lose it. "Listen to me."

"Don't you dare order me around right now."

His hands lashed out until they gripped the sides of your face. He was forcing your eyes forward, the touch not overly painful but enough to make you snarl at him.

"If you would just—"

Your hands came up and you slapped his from your cheeks. The echo of skin was treacherous to a conversation taking a devastating turn.

"I don't think you understand." You said in a tight, shaky voice. Hysteria was moments away from gripping your heart. "You wagered lives and the safety of others like they were inanimate things—"

"Risks are probable with all calculations, [Name]-chan—"

"But you still lied!" The talent he had for reasoning his way to justice even when he was sorely in the wrong was making heat claw at your face. A searing one of frustration and anger. "You lied to me this whole time and made me believe in you. I could trust you with my life Dazai, and now I find out you've been lying to me about something as important as this!"

Dazai subdued to silence, but never once did he look away from you. Arresting you with his intense stare, like he was figuring out just what words he could say to calm you right down. But you wouldn't let him. For once, you wouldn't be on the receiving end of his manipulation when he was putting all his effort into it.

But what he said next was so unexpected it knocked all the wind out of you.

"I suppose, if we are discussing with-holding things from each other to keep the other safe," It was a smooth murmur as he cast his eyes to the side. "I don't believe you are entirely innocent in that regard either, [Name]-chan."

Your mouth threatened to fall open. He knows. Even though the phone right now is in a cabinet in the bathroom, off and untouched, he knows about the blackmailing texts you have been receiving about him. Knowing you were a co-worker of his, these crooks from the underground threatened his very life lest you co-operated to give him up. Not that you ever would. But you had also declined to tell him about it, taking the issue on yourself, intent to shield you co-worker from harm above all else.

You didn't even have to ask him how, or what he knew. He was Dazai freaking Osamu who leveraged information in times where it benefited him.

One tight swallow and you raised a hand to point at him. "I didn't gamble with lives."

"Yet you gambled with your own~" He shut you down. "Your safety, your wellbeing, all because you believed holding the information to yourself would keep me safe."

Instead of being caught red handed and admitting to it, you felt your lips crack into a grin. Your tongue poked at your cheek and you began nodding your head.

"Alright," Spoken like you were engaged in a battle with him. One of wits and emotions and secrets. "You want to play this game? Share things we keep to ourselves to quote on quote benefit each other? Then explain to me why I also met a lady today who you slept with last week. A damn lawyer on one of our cases, Dazai!"

It made the air drop in temperature, the turn this blow-out was taking. Dazai leaned back and put his hands in his pockets, breathing in a way that told you he knew this conversation was coming. You were not in a relationship, had never been intimate with the brown-haired detective before you, yet would be lying to yourself if you said your feelings for him weren't driving you absolutely fucking insane.

"Truly? What was her name, remind me?"

"Oh, you fucking asshole."

"Such vulgarity, [Name]-chan! Now I'm sure she'd never speak like that~!"

That was a low blow. You wondered if he was trying to hurt you. So you did it right back. Without stopping to think of its consequences.

"So we're deciding to say fuck it to professionalism, then? Fine. I kissed Kunikida-kun."

If atoms could physically freeze in the air, they would have in that moment as Dazai suddenly went still. Statue-still, and you knew you shouldn't have said it when you did. Caught up in a moment where you two butted heads, each of you were getting nowhere with this conversation. But the damage had been done. Slowly, almost perilously, he craned his neck to the side and locked you in place with that stare. The one he had crafted when Mafia-black blood ran hot and thick in his veins. One eyebrow arched.

"Oh?"

Suddenly, you began fearing for your friend's stability in his job. Because who knows what a pissed off Dazai Osamu could do when he was angry. And you knew he was becoming agitated because he looked like he wasn't. Concealing anything with that mask he threw up to deceive everyone but you, who could read how the storm in his eyes took a violent, turbulent turn.

"But why should you care?" You spat at him. "You slept with our client just fine, so what if I kissed someone else on the case? Newsflash, Dazai, but we're not in a relationship and we never fucking will be."

Dazai was eating up the distance between the both of you until your chests barely touched. You were breathing heavy, felt tears threaten to fall down your cheeks. Through it all you noticed that his breaths were shallow and a little quicker, like he was keeping his emotions under check with everything he had in him.

"Stubborn woman." He breathed. "Why don't you see reason?"

You looked into his eyes with as much strength, as much sincerity as you could after an exhausting shouting match with him. Into their bottomless depths. Seas of chocolate and whiskey and so, so guarded. You wanted to reach into his soul and tear his guards down. Make him see your reason.

"Don't lie to me." You shook your head slowly without breaking eye-contact. One single, fat tear rolled down your right cheek against your will. "And I won't have to dig past all of them to find the reason, dammit."

"I told you," He urged in a softer tone. Reaching up, he brushed the tear that he caused against your cheek with a tender touch. Pull away, you said, but hadn't the strength to. "Everything I do or said was to help you along your path, [Name]-chan. I knew, out of all of the agents, that I could rely on you the most."

Is he lying right now? How could you know?

"Why do you have to go about everything in such a round about way?" You asked quietly.

Dazai's hand was hovering in front of where he wiped your cheek. Perhaps he didn't want to touch you as you gave the impression that you didn't want to be touched right now.

Perhaps you're both as bad as each other, sacrificing parts of yourselves and keeping secrets because you thought it'd be for the better.

"What are you looking for?" Dazai asked when you continued to study him.

You shrugged. "An answer."

"To?"

Tears glistened on your lashes as you looked down. Crushed crystals that glittered when you found words. "To why, even after you're such a big pain in my ass to deal with," You took a sharp inhale. "I still can't see myself anywhere but at your side."

He saw an opening to exploit in order to get you to forgive him, probably. That, or you had given him a confirmation he had been seeking right after you told him why would you care if I kiss another man? Because one searching flicker of his eyes across your face and he suddenly swooped in.

At first, you were unwilling to take his kiss — was about to pull away, because he was wrong to think he could manipulate you physically if he couldn't mentally.

"Forgive me," He whispered against your lips softly. "I didn't think keeping it from you could affect you this deeply."

Next, you watched as he tilted his head against yours to touch your foreheads. Maybe it was Dazai's way of showing emotions he had trouble displaying like most humans did. Instead, he attempted to connect your mind with his — that wicked mind that was capable of things humans believed impossible. "I will admit that emotional impact on others is not dominant when I make decisions for a grander picture."

You didn't pull away. At the very least, he was trying to show you an emotional side of him. Remorse, God help him. You could see it in the way he formulated a riddle for you to solve, didn't show any feeling on his face but did something as intimate as tipping your forehead to his and brushing his lips against yours.

Dazai Osamu had the tendencies to do things just because he knew, logically, it was the best thing to do. He promised to keep those people safe on the mission today, you locked eyes with him, and he had done that. Although not in the way he made you believe he would.

"Good." You whispered. "As long as you're aware of how much of a problem you can be."

His chuckle was low and shallow. Dark in a way that told you a lustful side of him was stirring at the proximity of you both, but the sound was a little warmer. Shared between two people attempting to build a steady connection with each other when both their lives had, at some point, been hit with chaos.

And maybe that was why you let him kiss you again. It wasn't an admission of defeat, it wasn't your way of saying you forgave him. But you could accept the fact that you had made the Dazai Osamu find fault in his sociopathic reasonings. He had went as far as to administer an apology, in his own way, and didn't lie to you when you asked him not to. That and the bastard already had his place in your heart. Kissing you with a tenderness and care not typical to him was bound to have you swaying, wanting to believe he was being serious, sincere.

"Don't lie to me again," You said when he pulled away. "Promise me you won't."

"Hmm?" He brought his lips to kiss your cheek. "I don't have a good record with keeping promises."

"Then give me your word."

Give me your word. It brought you both back to when you first met in a shadowed alleyway bar — when he had sought you out for that interesting Ability of yours. Months upon months ago that felt like an aeon. He had told you that his word was something he never broke. And he knew what you were asking, because his whiskey eyes that swam with speckles of stars underneath his pale spotlights flickered to yours.

"Is my word held at such high value?"

"It's how you managed to sway me in that shitty bar to join your group of misfits."

Another hum against your skin. He attempted to attack your neck, probably because he knew that was the area in which you fawned the most.

"Dazai." You warned, and he drew back. "Give me your word that you won't lie to me again." It was nothing short of a final order.

He eyed you for a second. And surprisingly, "You have my word."

It was the finalisation of his apology. Or, the very best you were going to get. In some way, it was also your admission to allow him to kiss you again, as if a reward for being reasonable with you. And he took up his reward by claiming your lips in a kiss that was longer than the last. It was hot and in some way raw, breathing through his nose and slanting his mouth against your own in a lip-lock you were a little overwhelmed by.

His hand came up and dug into your soft hair to cradle your head as he teased your lower lip between his teeth. Unwittingly, you sighed into his mouth and pushed against him. Melding your curves with his lean build and grasping at anything you could ball your hands into. Be it his shirt, his shoulders, sighing deeper each time. A tongue licked at your lips, his hands were locked on your hips with a searing message, everything he was doing right now was oddly rushed and coming at you all at once. As if to prove something. To translate a message.

"Tell me," He rasped in a throaty voice. "When was it that you shared such an intimacy with Kunikida-kun~?"

Oh, you should have known. But instead, you contested him. Your hands came up to bury into his deep hair and you played his own game.

"How about," Your lips attacked his face, barely getting any words in as you attempted to prove your own point. "You tell me when you decided sleeping with some random lawyer was a good idea?"

Both of you began breathing a little shallower, a little more urgent with need. Perhaps the need was on your part mostly, but there was an uncoordinated jerkiness to the way Dazai began tugging at his coat sleeves. As if he was slipping out of control. You were helping with your own messy movements to push off his coat when he asked a lawyer? with a tremor of amusement.

"That woman. The one last week. On our case." Smooth warmth underneath his shirt when your palms glided down his shoulders. Why were you both so hot?

"Ah," He helped you shrug his jacket to the ground. It fell with a heavy sound. "She was a lawyer, wasn't she~?"

"Sophisticated, beautiful, the whole package. You just couldn't resist, could you?"

Dazai, when free of his coat, reached up to gently undo your blouse. One button at a time, and you allowed him to. Your chest heaving, his fingers warm.

"Well," His eyes were locked on the skin you've never shown him as it became increasingly visible the more buttons he popped. Leaning in with hooded eyes, his voice was a dark and sinful whisper against your skin. "If you must know," A searing kiss to your temple. "I didn't think she was that sophisticated. But she was beautiful," Your cheek. "Beautiful, because she reminded me of you."

Your heart, which was busy slamming against your ribcage, stuttered for a second. Dazai was teasing your face with his mouth and almost done your blouse when he sent pleasure shooting down to your core with mere words;

"And I, poor little I, finished before her. Because in my head, it wasn't her that I was fucking underneath me."

And then he kissed you. Hard and messy and unlike his calculating nature. Using his tongue to lick at your teeth and send you moaning into his mouth, there was a passion in the way he intensified the kiss. Your blouse was open now, and you couldn't help the subconscious aged fear that was always there due to insecurity when he splayed his fingers on your abdomen. As if sensing your apprehension, he didn't look down, kept kissing you with such a wild fever that was driving you near senseless.

You felt his palms scrape your sensitive skin on your torso with coarse bandages. An almost welcome feeling unique to him alone. They lightly tickled your skin, eliciting a shiver, a reminder that this was real. That you were ravaging Dazai Osamu in the heat of a moment that was so intense you thought you would burn.

Your breathing hitched when his hands smoothened across your sensitive ribs to palm your breasts through your bra. Your skin was tight with anticipation, pulled taut over your body that he massaged — making you arch into him. A moan, startled and raw, ripped from your throat. He chuckled, increasing the pressure of his rough palms over your skin, pleased he was the one making you feel this way and no one else.

You decided to give him the peace of mind he wanted.

"He kissed me," You told him when both of you broke for air. "Kunikida— before our Christmas Party. He kissed me, beforehand."

"My, my. Such a passionate Idealist." Dazai commented with an edge to his voice.

"Would you like to know what I thought of when he did?"

His palms were inching around to the small of your back. "Do tell." Was all he said. Slowly, dark as the colour of his dilated eyes.

"You."

Pull, he hauled you against him when you let the word fall from your mouth.

Skin on the fabric of his shirt, your skirt the only thing between you and the obvious readiness of him that was an unbearable pressure between your legs. It was a point where words were not needed anymore. Instead, you kissed him with as much neediness you convinced yourself he showed you — your fingers fluttering against his waistcoat to get the infernal thing off. Because right now there was a wild, strange thing so powerful it must have been held back for too long fluttering in your chest. It wanted nothing more than to feel him, see what he hid under his clothes, bite at his skin until no other woman touched him.

He helped you, with a laugh of course, until you were now making clumsy work of his shirt. Clumsy, because he was placing provocative open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive column of your neck and threatening you to your very knees.

You shrugged his shirt off his shoulders after a second and took a step back to look at him. Truthfully, you didn't exactly know what it was that you were expecting to find under all his clothes, or to what extent his bandages ran. Although you weren't very surprised to find that his abdomen and chest had a layer of bandages just like his neck and arms, but sparser and less covered up. It allowed the pale skin of his chest to catch your eyes, and his own scars that snaked between cloth that didn't cover them.

Scars.

One careful, hesitant step forward with your eyes locked on skin you've never seen before, and you reached out. First you trailed a curious finger against the lithe muscle of his stomach that flexed at your touch. Then, you placed your entire palm flat against his warm skin and glided it up to his chest. It was rising and falling quickly when you did, shallow breaths of anticipation that quite matched your own.

His eyes were a blaze of molten coffee when you looked up at him.

"Are you a tempting siren?" He asked you. Your colleague who could drown you, but at that point, all you could think about was the heat punching you from his body and the desperate ache between your legs.

So for once in your life, you decided that a risky answer was better than overthinking. Your tongue jutted out to your bottom lip and you answered him honestly.

"If we were still in that bar," You said in a small, wanton croak. "And you asked me again if I should come home with you. I'd say — yes."

Dazai went for you.

He was kissing you the moment you gave him the permission he was searching for. You felt his fingers skating up the side of your legs and under your skirt until he teased one god-awful touch against the damp fabric of your underwear. A jolt of pleasure exploded through you and you reached behind to get the skirt off, desperate for more. Fabric fell to the floor with a heavy thud and you bore down onto his fingers with no shame, no resolve except to give into him and all his sinful talents. Hooking your leg up and around his waist as he worked his touch up and down, hiking your pleasure to high points only he could find.

You hummed and kissed him deeply, encouraging and urgent. If anything, your responses were fuelling that male ego he had about him. Every time your moans became that bit higher, he'd have the spot that did such a thing to you memorised, and he's hit it again. And again, and again, until you were rocking into the palm of his hand through your soaked underwear and whispering his name like a lost prayer.

Fuck—Fuck, he was too good at this. He was—!

He curled his fingers just right and you swore.

The winding in your gut snapped in an intense wave of climaxing pleasure so sudden it caught you unawares. You moaned a sound that could have been a scream, it was so overwhelming. All your sighs and shouts were lost in his mouth, and to show your gratitude, you kept tugging and scraping at his hair. Perhaps it unfurled the last seams of his control; your moans, your scent and your tugging you would fantasize he liked. Because he hooked your other leg up and around his waist with no warnings until he held you up against his body.

"You'll drop me, you idiot." You giggled deliriously. Dazai was walking you to the nearest upstanding object to trap you against. In this case, it was his bookshelf.

"I'd never drop you, beautiful Bella~"

You lapped at the skin of his neck, just below his ear. Possessed by some intense, primal part of you, your teeth sank into his neck and you sucked just enough to leave a bruise. The bookshelf rattled when Dazai locked you against it, and you could feel how he ground his jaw in rigid control when you marked him in such a possessive way. No woman, clearly, had ever placed intimate bruises on his body, and you were happy to be the first. That and, your teasing and tasting only looked to charge Dazai more with that same insatiable need to take you here and now.

Without any questions asked but a mutual understanding hanging in the charged air that this was well overdue, he reached down to remove his own pants. When he did, he repositioned himself so he could angle you better with his body.

His head bowed in front of your black bra decorated with notes of lace and he bit down on one of your stiff nipples through the fabric. The shock and pain that quickly raced into pleasure soured through your blood, making you wrap your hands around his head and push your chest against his face proactively. He kept toying with your nipple between his teeth through the black fabric, truly a man who knew all the pressure points to drive a woman wild.

It was through delirious pleasure, but you were at an angle where you could shift your hips to press on the rigid outline of his length with your damp, aching core. Dazai's lips stilled on your chest when you rubbed your heat against him; a provocative tease up and down that had you receiving a punishing nip on your clavicle. A bruise of his own, you'd find out, but not in that moment. Not when you gave one final roll of your hips against his and your colleague's unfurling control wore too thin.

His hands came down to pull your underwear off you while he still kept you pinned up against a bookshelf. Through it all, he never let his bottomless gaze falter from our face. Not once. Not even when he had to free himself from his last piece of clothing and take measures of protection. The way he looked at you, like a treat he'd been saving for a very long time, was enough to have another knot of pleasure coiling in your gut.

"Are you ready?" He asked you.

You nodded. "For a while."

"Such a tease~"

And then, with his warm hands on your hips did he guide himself into your entrance. It was slow at first, tasting you almost, but the moment he edged the tip of himself into your damp, twitching heat did he snap his last thread of self control and thrust long and deep. You cried out in ecstasy, and he dropped his head into your shoulder with a broken sound of overdue pleasure, bracing a hand on the shelf behind.

You breathed out shakily, running your hands through his wild hair to communicate that you were comfortable for him to move.

He drew out, and slammed right back into you — the depth of him this time making little white stars appear at the sides of your vision. There was no patience, no savouring on Dazai's part as he kept a heavy rhythm of thrusting into you until the bookshelf was rattling with your movements, some falling to the ground. He was devouring you, taking from you a pleasure he'd denied himself for so long because you were unwilling to give it to him.

And you regretted not doing it sooner. Because the way he felt sliding in and out of you, the way you connected that felt so unfathomably perfect—

"Could anyone else do this for you?" His voice was heavy with panting in your ear. You were too high to scold him on the blatant controlling way he said the words; "Hm? Could any other person," A particularly heavy push of his hips into you that made your mouth fall open silently. "Make you feel this way?"

Caught in your daze, you shook your head. It was the truth, of course. But you also didn't lose all of your wit.

You locked your ankles together at the dip of his back and took his face in both hands. "Could your lawyer make you… act so… wild?"

"Wild? Me?" His voice broke in a thick laugh as his thrusting became sharper and faster. Your back kept hitting the shelves behind with every one, but your hands stayed against his cheeks so as you could see him in the height of pleasure you caused. That beautiful face of his sheaning a little with exertion smirked. "I'm not wild for anyone, [Name]-chan."

"Then fucking put me down." You teased with a dazed smile of your own.

"Not a chance~"

His smooth, deep thrusts became slightly more jerky when you were just about to topple over the edge — but you wanted to take him with you, so you resisted for as much as you could. His mouth bit down against the side of your neck and he gave one, two, three long rocks of his hips before he was groaning agonisingly deep against your skin.

The very sound was enough. Your walls clenched around him and you too, hit a climax like no other. One that made you feel like a star — imploding in such a dazzling light show as you fisted at his hair and arched your body backwards. Or a mirror, magnificent in its beauty that he cracked into a trillion tiny pieces. Each fragment reflecting how you held onto him and cried his name out loud and desperately, like the world was ending and he was your very last salvation.

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai bsd #dazai x reader #the evil deed is done #i love this man a lot #but i just know he's an absolute pain in the ass #🪄— milky writes #💓 — thump

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kyleoreillylover · 5 months

Text

Monster

Roman Reigns x Fem reader (platonic) & Jey Uso x Fem reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: ᴀꜱ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴ'ꜱ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀɪʙᴀʟ ᴄʜɪᴇꜰ. ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴏʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ʜɪᴍ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴄᴀɴ, ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴏʏꜱ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ, ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ. ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʀɪꜱᴋ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ. ʀɪꜱᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀᴇᴇʀ, ʟɪᴠᴇʟɪʜᴏᴏᴅ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪꜰᴇʟᴏɴɢ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴊᴇʏ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʀɪꜱᴋ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴏᴜʟ.

Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, cursing, wrestling related violence, allusions to smut but no actual smut written, Roman Reigns being toxic but you’re just as toxic, etc.

A/N: This idea came to me literally by watching the Bayley vs Sasha and Jey vs Roman HIAC matches, and the inspiration just hit. I tried to base off the toxic friendship between you and Roman kinda off of Baysha, toxic and loving yet can betray each other at any moment. But I made you and Roman more lovingish? Jey is just a cutie pie as always. I worked really hard and long on this, so I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 18,893

tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld (If you wanna be a part of my tag list let me know!)

You are intelligent. Precise. You never do anything without a motive, without a deeper reason. Every move you make has a hidden agenda, built by the intricate thread of your thoughts and the smart calculations of your actions. Nothing you do is without a purpose.

Which is why Jey couldn't wrap his mind around what the fuck you were thinking. He barged into your locker room, walking over to you with the speed of an angry bull. "Are you fucking insane?" he yelled, frustration etched in every line of his face. "What the fuck are you thinking?"

You glanced up from packing your bags, your expression unreadable, but Jey knew you better than you knew yourself. He could see the storm of emotions swirling in your eyes- determination, sadness, but most importantly, anger.

Yet, you met Jey's gaze with a calmness that contradicted the turmoil inside of you. "This is between me and him, nobody else." You stated firmly, your eyes darkening with an intensity that sent a shiver down Jey's spine before you looked away from him to resume packing your belongings. "We'll settle this, trust me."

Jey scoffed, nose snarling at your words and your nonchalant attitude. "Settle this means talking that shit out, not fucking challenging him to a cell match!" His eyes bored into you before narrowing at your stuff, hand darting out faster than lightning, but you were faster, grabbing the paper and stepping back so he couldn't pull it from you.

"Give me that fucking contract! Are you tryna get yourself killed? Huh? He's twice your fucking size! Why are you doing this?!" You calmly let Jey yell at you and take out his frustrations on you. You knew he would react like this once you laid down the challenge and came to the back, but it was necessary. That didn't mean you enjoyed being yelled at, but you understood his concern.

"I'm not trying to get killed, Jey," you responded evenly, holding the contract closer to your chest. "I'm trying to get him to understand that his actions have consequences, and unless I push him, he won't listen. This is the only way I can make him listen to me."

You softly looked at Jey, hoping he, out of all people, would understand you. But he just looked at you like you had lost your damn mind, and you couldn't blame him.

"Oh, so now you tryna stop him, huh? Be a savior cause your feelings got hurt?" Jey tried to snatch the contract again, but you evaded him, your unreadable expression dropping at his words, hurt flashing across your features. "You ain't in the right mind, you too angry to push away your fucking pride." Jey continued, his tone accusing. "I know you hurt, but you can't let that pain blind you. This ain't the way, and you know it."

You glared back at Jey, the hurt in your eyes replaced with a fire he'd never seen directed at him before. "Fuck you! This isn't just about that, and you know it." Your mind traveled back to a couple days ago. The blood. The pain. The tears in your eyes as you stared up at Asuka holding your title, that she beat you for. She might've cheated with her mist to get it, but there was no spinning it how you put it. You lost.

But you lost more than just a title. You lost a part of yourself too. You knew that being apart of the Bloodline meant owning up to your shit and taking scrutiny from Roman, but as his best friend, the very person who built up the Tribal Chief in the first place, you foolishly thought you were exempt from the harsher side of it.

That illusion shattered last week, when he tore you apart verbally in the middle of that ring, claiming that you turned complacent and weak, using your friendship as a crutch and throwing back your loyalty and insecurities in your face. Then he rubbed it in that he was looking out for you, and to do that you couldn't get another title match until he deemed you worthy.

Your heart burned with anger and humiliation, but you let him run his mouth, uncharacteristically staying silent and let him 'look out for you', accepting the hug he offered after the verbal lashing, even if it felt more like a gesture of dominance than genuine comfort.

But Jey saw the look in your eyes as you hugged him back. He saw that glint of anger, the spark that you wouldn't let die out, and he tried to calm you down before you let that fire burn and did something reckless. He let you cry into his shoulder for the first time, let you unveil your emotions behind that cocky facade you yielded that he knew deep down was just a crutch you used to not get hurt.

And he let you cry into his arms when Roman did it again, and again, and again, pushing you into a corner, not deeming you worthy of standing in his corner, claiming you would cost him and the twins a loss since you knew so much about losses. And when he did let you in the ring during his promos, he would make snipping comments about you, throwing you insecurities back in your face again. But he always said he did it out of love, to toughen you up, to make you- his best friend- realize how great you really are. And that- and Jey always holding you back with his arm and his knowing warm gaze- is what always stopped you from snapping at him and holding your tongue.

Until last week, when after the twins lost last week he blamed it all on you for being in their corner even though you were ejected. You were about to just shut your mouth and let him yell at you, but he then told you to take off your Bloodline and give it to him until you were ready to have it back.

And that was the last straw.

You don't know what took over you- but it was like the ghost of Satan took over your body. You screamed at Roman, the rage you'd been bottling up for so long finally boiling over.

"You want this?" You ripped the jacket from your body, throwing it at him with intensity and marching over to him with so much anger Jey thought you were gonna throw a punch at him.

"Fuck you, Roman! Fuck you!" Your voice shook with hurt and sadness, and a thousand other emotions you felt take over all your senses and sting your eyes with tears as you moved closer to Roman with speed he didn't even know you had- to punch him, to slap the taste out of his mouth, to simply try to physically show him how much he hurt you, you didn't know.

But Jey grabbed you before you could do anything, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you back.

"Take your stupid fucking jacket, and shove it up your a-"

"Hey, hey, calm down babe," he murmured, trying to soothe you as you struggled against his hold, holding you with a strength that matched your anger.

"No, I won't calm down! You wanna keep on fucking doing this? Keep on fucking blaming for everything? Every fuck up? Treating me like shit even though I've been nothing but loyal to you? Hurting me like my feelings don't mean anything to you? Like I don't mean anything to you?!" You shouted, your voice quivering with emotion as tears unwillingly streamed down your face.

"Like I'm not your best friend! Like I'm not the one who always been by your side before you became the Tribal Chief, always had your back, always gave you everything and poured myself into everything that made you happy, always believed in you before you even believed in yourself?!"

Roman's face was still stoic as he sat and took in your outburst, but his eyes were filled with a mix of surprise, anger, and realization- like he knew how far he was pushing you. He watched as you tried to claw at Jey's arms, desperately attempting to push him away to break free and let out your hurt directly onto Roman. But Jey just held on tighter, holding onto your kicking and struggling form to stop you from doing something you would regret.

"You are my best friend." Roman finally spoke up after what felt like hours, clenching his jaw and staring at you with a hardened glare that you couldn't decipher, that you couldn't recognize, and it dawned on you that you couldn't recognize him, couldn't recognize the man that you cared for more than you cared for yourself.

He stood up, and you gradually stopped struggling as he came closer to you, his blue eyes starring daggers at you as he softly cupped your face, his calloused hands touching your cheeks, the contrast between his touch and his cold glare jarring. "And sometimes you need to show the ones you love the truth so they can understand the pain they cause."

Roman's voice was chilling, but his eyes were tangled with emotions that felt foreign and unsettling, and your skin crawled at the unfamiliarity in his demeanor. "And once you do that, hurt them before others do to help them, you protect them from further pain."

You moved away from his touch as if it burned you, glaring at him with rage you hoped burned him from the inside out. "You really think I'm stupid? Think I don't see what you're doing? Trying to pretend your doing this out of the goodness of your heart so that I'll fall in line? Well, newsflash, I was already supporting you before any of this tribal chief bullshit even got to your head, before any of this meant anything to you. I didn't need a title to show you loyalty, I just needed you to be my best friend."

Your voice turned somber, your heart still hurting but the anger giving away to sadness, and for a moment Roman gazed into your eyes, really looked at you, like he was staring at your soul. Seeing the pain reflected in your toffe-colored eyes, the tear stains on your cheeks, your trembling form, the scars he etched into your soul with every callous word and cold gesture He saw it all, all the anger you wanted to unleash on him. But he also saw your guarded vulnerability, the part of you that just wanted to hug him and just forgive him, tell him everything would be okay, the part of you still hoping this was all a bad dream.

But that moment passed as fast as it came, and your face dropped into an unreadable gaze, and you wiped your tears, straightening your back and wiping your face and heart of any vulnerability you allowed him to see. You felt Jey's breath against your back, and you looked up at him, asking him the silent question to let you go. Jey's concerned brown eyes were boring into yours, and he didn't need to say anything, he understood everything you meant. He slowly let you go, backing away from you, giving you the freedom you needed.

You took a step back, never breaking eye contact with Roman. This time it was him who couldn't recognize the look in your eyes, but he knew one thing. It didn't mean anything good.

"You think you're the only one who can hurt others? Hurt them with what they love?" Your voice was scarily calm, each word measured as you faced Roman with a piercing glare. "You wanna play the game I taught you how to play in the first place? Then let's play."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you turned to the door, your gaze never leaving Roman.

"Trust me, we're gonna see who really is the Head of The Table. And once we do, you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

With that, you slammed the door shut behind you, not looking back at the concerned and stunned look Jey was wearing and the scornful yet regretful expression Roman wore as he watched you leave.

Jey didn't know what that threat would carry out, what you would do, but now standing across from you, seeing it blaze out of control, he feared he was witnessing the unraveling of your carefully crafted self-control. He couldn't let you destroy yourself to prove a point to Roman, no matter how much he understood your pain.

"This ain't the way, and you know that. You guys can talk this shit out like fucking adults but instead you want to get him to sign the shit too you can kill each other in that cell, and for what? Huh? To prove a point? To satisfy your ego?"

You clenched your jaw, moving closer to Jey, your eyes ablaze in anger. “You think I'm doing this because I enjoy it? Because of my ego?" You scowled, the intensity of your gaze burning through him."I admit, I have an ego, but at least I have the balls to own up to my mistakes! Roman acts like he is perfect, like he is untouchable. But I'm gonna prove that nobody is above the consequences of their actions, not even him."

Jey paused for a moment, his eyes boring into yours, and you could see the gateways of his emotions through his eyes. You saw the anger that mirrored yours, his protectiveness of you shining through his brown beautiful eyes that seemed to be made for staring at you, but you also saw the stubbornness, and you knew he wasn't gonna let this go without a fight. Jey searched your eyes for any sign that you were willing to back down, and when he found none, he groaned in frustration, running his hand across his face, heart torn in two different directions.

"You're proving to him that he has control over you." Jey's voice turned softer, eyes staring at you with understanding, he knew what you were feeling. Helpless. Out of control. Powerless. He knew even you would snap sooner or later, no matter what he did. But he didn't think you would risk your career, your life, your bond with Roman, to show him your retribution.

"Come here." Jey beckoned you, his arms open as he waited for you to make a move, hoping to stop your spiraling, to reach deep into your soul and mend the shattered pieces and help you piece them back together.

You stared up at him, your anger slightly softening as you saw the concern and care in his eyes. Jey saw the change in your demeanor and pounced, making the first move and enveloping you in his warm arms, and you finally felt at peace for the first time in what felt like forever. You breathed in his woody scent, shutting your eyes and relaxing into the crook of his neck, feeling some of the tension start to release from your body.

It felt calming. Jey was calming. He was gentle. Like the waves of an ocean lapping against the shore, slowly eroding the jagged edges of your anger.

Jey gently slid the contract out of your arms, setting it down on the table and sliding a hand up your body, stroking the back of your hair gently, as if he could mend your emotions with a single touch.

"Remember Hell in a Cell, when I went through all that pain, all that suffering, just to prove something to Roman? To prove I was worthy, to prove that I can bleed for this family, that I can be the guy for the family?"Jey's voice broke through the comfortable silence, his arms tightening around you at the memory.

You nodded against his neck, recalling the match vividly. The anguish, the pain, the brutality, the utter disconempt and fear of that night etched into your memory. The absolute hurt on Jey's face as you watched him watch Roman force Jimmy into a chokehold, forcing him to watch his brother in agony, screaming I quit over and over again until Roman finally let go of Jimmy, making Jey shake his hand before officially becoming Tribal Chief.

Rikishi doned him with the red flowers around his neck, Jey's heart heaving with pain and hurt as you shook Roman's hand in congratulations before making a beeline for the cell, your smile dropping as soon as you turned to the Twins and took in Jey's pained and saddened features, the bruises on his body making you want to shield him from anyone and anything as you dropped to your knees and hugged him so tight he almost couldn't breathe.

You and Jimmy helped him to the back, and it was that night you truly saw how twisted you have made Roman become by pushing him to become the Tribal Chief.

You wanted the best for your friend, for the family, but at what cost?

Jey pulled away, cupping your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You remember how it felt, right? The pain, the helplessness. Do you really want to go through that again?"

You shut your eyes, trying to ignore his logic and just focus on how you felt. On how Roman made you feel. But Jey wouldn't let you make the same mistakes he did.

"Open your eyes, babe. This aint just about you and Roman. It's about the whole family. You're not just putting yourself through hell; you're putting everyone through it. You're putting me through it. You're putting Roman through it. Hell, you're even putting Jimmy and the others through it. And you know what that's gonna accomplish? Nothing." Jey's hand firmly gripped your chin, making you open your eyes, and the raw sincerity and honesty in his eyes cut through the haze of your emotions.

"Because at the end of the day, this is what he wants. He wants to push you to your limits, to see how far you're willing to go for him. And if you go through with this, he'll think he's won. He'll think he's broken you."

You swallowed hard, your mind racing at Jey's words, his eyes penetrating the stubborn walls you had built around yourself like he had done a thousand times. Roman could get under your skin with ease, but Jey could do something he couldn't and that was reach your heart.

You couldn't lie to yourself and say Jey didn't have a point, he did. But the darker part of you craved the satisfaction of proving Roman wrong, of making him regret ever thinking you were a pawn in his game that the could just play. You wanted to hurt him the way he hurt you, tear his ego to fucking bits, and if you had to take his title and put your body through hell to teach him to not bite the hand that fed him, you were more than willing.

"He can't break me, because I'm the one that built him. I'm the reason he's Tribal Chief in the first place." You pulled back a bit, looking at Jey defiantly. "I made him, Jey. And now I'm going to unmake him if I have to and show him that I created him, and I could destroy him just as easily."

Jey's expression softened, and he let out a frustrated breath as his hands traced your jawline. "Please… don't do this. He'll sacrifice anything for power, and you will do the same. You guys are so similar… But where he's lost himself in that power, I've seen you fight to keep hold of who you are. You didn't let the power consume you, take over you. And I won't let it, no matter what you say."

Jey pulled away from you, his hands dropping to his sides. "I ain't letting you destroy yourself for him, let him do to you what he did to me. I love you too much to let you do that." He grabbed the contract from the table, crumpling it in his fist and ripping it to shreds, moving from you when you tried to protest.

"Jey, I'm doing this for you, for all of us, for Jimmy. But most importantly, I'm doing it for Roman." Your soft gaze turned back into an unreadable glare as you moved away from Jey and zipped up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder and watching Jey as he threw the contract in the trash. "And I'm not gonna let you stop me."

Jey stared into you, your eyes, your heart, your soul, and saw the stubbornness in you, the anger in you, the same fire in you that he had. And he knew your mind was set.

"I don't care what you say, I don't care what you do, and I don't care how mad at me you're gonna get. I ain't letting you do this, no matter what." Jey could be just as stubborn, his eyes turning determined and voice hardening, firm and final.

You casted Jey one last look as you threw your bag over your shoulder and made your way to the door, your hand on the door handle.

"I love you, but this something that needs to be done, something I have to do. And this is your official warning to not stand in my way Jey, or you'll regret it. I don't want to hurt you." You spoke with a chilling resolve, your skin prickling with the way Jey stared at you, like he had already lost you before this all begun.

The door creaked open, and you walked out, leaving behind a heavy silence in the room. Jey sighed in frustration, grabbing the nearest chair in his path and throwing it against the wall.

“Fuck!” He screamed out in frustration, rubbing his temples, his blood rushing in stress.

Jey knew that if you got that match official, that if you poked and prodded and got Roman to sign that shit, which you most definitely would, it meant war.

And Jey wasn't gonna let the war happen, because it would take your soul away in the process.

But you were willing to sacrifice your soul for the devil if that's what it took to bring Roman to his knees and burn his ego before it burned you.

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"I can't thank you enough for training me, you are one of the best so this is an honor." You giggled at Bron's compliment, giving him a blinding smile as you walked through the hallway, ignoring Roman's pointed glare you knew was on you as you passed by his room, wrapping an arm around his waist and moving closer to him.

"Oh, trust me, the pleasure was all mine. I can tell the future is in really good hands. I'm really interested in how your career will pan out in NXT." You took his hand in yours and laced your fingers with his, enjoying the way his pupils widened slightly with surprise and delight at your touch.

"Are you just interested in my career or something more?" Bronn smirked, squeezing your hand gently. You couldn't help but chuckle at his comment, it was so easy to get these guys to become putty in your hands with a few simple words.

"Maybe a bit of both." You replied, licking your lips, making his gaze drop to your glossy lips, and you knew it was time to strike so this can be over as soon as possible. "I heard you can spear pretty good, even better than Roman. Maybe you could teach me how to execute it perfectly?"

Bronn chuckled, " I might be able to show you a thing or two. But be warned, it's harder than it looks."

"Then maybe you're just not as good as you say you are."

You smirked at the intrusion, turning to the new voice and seeing Roman standing behind you both, his arms crossed over his chest, his steely gaze fixed on both of you. He looked unbothered, man bun slicked back to perfection and red Bloodline jacket showing off his muscled frame. But you knew him better than that, knew he was ticked off, his jaw was set, and you could see the flicker of annoyance he tried to hide in his eyes.

"Ro." You gave him a sweet smile, but he could see right through it, rolling his eyes when you made a point to show. him your interlaced hands. "Did you need something? I'm kinda busy here."

Roman smiled right back, but it was anything but sweet. It was deadly. "I need to speak with you. In my office. Now."

You smiled even wider and pretended to contemplate it. "But, me and Bronn were in the middle of something important here. Right Bronn?" You batted your eyes at Bronn, making him swoon and Roman internally groan.

"Yeah, we wer-"

"No one cares what you think. I was asking to speak with her." Roman sharply interrupted Bronn, his tone firm as he locked eyes with him. Bronn's gaze hardened, but before he could do anything you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, making him look at you.

"I'll catch up with you later, Bronn." you said with a reassuring smile, hoping to diffuse any tension he was feeling.

Bronn looked between you and Roman before reluctantly nodding, letting go and walking away, shooting Roman another glare.

"You didn't have to scare him away. He was nice."

“Baby, we all know you don’t like nice guys. Now are you coming?” Roman's voice held a note of impatience that you loved to cause as he arched an eyebrow, waiting for your compliance.

You gave a playful shrug, a smirk curling your lips. “Sure, but make it quick.” You tossed a teasing wink towards Roman before following him down the hallway, anticipating flooding your senses.

Roman held open the door for you as you entered his office, his blue orbs never leaving your face. You could cut the tension with a knife, neither of you wanting to give the other an inch as you sat across one another, neither one of you not wanting to give in. Whoever talked about the problem first loses.

“I see you’ve lowered your standard’s recently. Bron, really?”

You scoffed at the disappointment in Roman’s tone. “What, are you jealous? Mad that he’s everything you wished you could be at his age?”

Roman chuckled darkly, shaking his head slightly at your attempts to anger him. "You know jealous isn't my thing, sweetheart. But being honest is."

He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands together with a knowing smirk on his face. "You really think I wouldn't notice you trying to replace me with a wish version of me? Please, don't insult me."

You raised a brow at the dig, relaxing into the chair and fiddling with your fingers, not giving him your undivided attention. "Ro, you really think that low of me? I would never do anything of the sort. I thought you thought better of me. Thought highly of me." You finished your sentence with a roll of your eyes, but Roman could hear the thinly veiled pain in your voice. Pain that he caused. Pain he needed to be caused in order to make you feel no more of it in the future. He just wished you understood that.

"I do think highly of you. Why would you say otherwise?' His tone was confused, but you knew better than to pretend he was playing dumb. He was baiting you in, trying to see if you would be the first to crack.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you aren’t acting like you do?” You snipped at him, trying to mask your hurt with annoyance.

Roman sighed as if he was tired of all of this even though he was the one who caused all of it. He picked up a remote from his desk, then leaned back in his chair, turning on the TV, his smirk never leaving his face. “I saw your promo last week.”

Your eyes flickered to the screen, seeing the footage of your emotionally charged promo airing on the screen. You watched your words play back, the anger palaphable and spreading over the arena. The two of you watched it in deadly silence, and once it was finished you turned back to him, the contract in your hand that you waved around while challenging Roman resting in his hands.

“Are you asking me to take back my words? Cause if so the answer is no.”

Roman turned off the TV, his smirk dropping as he turned to you with a serious glint in his eyes. “I’m not asking you to take them back. I’m asking you to reconsider them.” He dropped the contract onto his desk, and you noticed his signature void from it. “I’m not signing it.”

Your jaw tightened at that, picking up a pen from his desk and sliding it towards him. “Maybe you should be the one reconsidering your words.”

Roman chuckled and took the pen from you, never leaving your eyes as he shot it in the trash can. You think this is a joke?” You met his stare with a hard glare, not flinching from the sound as he leaned forward, his gaze intense as he stared you down. “You think shit is a joke?”

You leaned forward, matching his intense energy. “ I think you're playing a game, Roman. And I'm just trying to keep up and win.”

He let out a frustrated groan, slamming his hand down hard on the table. He cracked first. Bingo.

“You want to talk about winning? You’re playing a game you can’t win, sweetheart. And that’s because I make the rules. And unlike you, I don’t have time to play games.” Roman’s voice was menacing, an angry edge threatening to spill out.

You straightened in your chair, meeting his gaze head-on, not intimidated in the slightest. “Then prove it. Sign the damn contract. What’re you scared of?”

The two of you stared each other down, neither giving an inch in hopes of making the other give in. The two of you were mirrors of each other: Manipulative, stubborn, driven by your own motives. The difference between you both was that you were loyal by a fault.

And he wanted to test how far he could push that loyalty.

Roman’s face turned from impassive to sadness in a fleeting moment, a hint of regret crossing his features. He shook his head slowly, not matching your challenging gaze. “I’m scared of hurting you.”

You blinked at his words, taken aback by the switch of emotions but not willing to admit it, letting him continue. “You think I don’t feel? That I don’t feel hurt when I have to be the guy to punish everyone, to set the rules, to make tough decisions? Sometimes I don’t forgive myself, but I do it to protect everyone, including you. I thought you would understand that.”

Roman paused, his gaze flickering to the contract on the desk, a pained expression haunting his features. “But my father taught me to never lay a hand on a lady, on those who are loyal. And you’re more than just any lady, you are my best friend, my right-hand woman, the one person who helped me build myself up when no one else would help me.”

Your heart softened despite the warning signs going off in your head, the caution you tried to put up against his words. He was playing the game he was too good at, trying to appeal to your loyalty, and you were struggling to not give in.

He leaned forward and extended his hand towards you, his gaze pleading. “I can’t sign that, and you know why. But you also know I’ll always have your back. I’m just asking for yours now. Asking for my best friend to understand. Asking for the person who helped build me to not try to destroy me.”

Your was face stoic but your eyes telling a thousand words as you narrowed them at his hand, not speaking for what felt like an eternity until finally, you slid into his, his calloused hand enveloping your smaller one and testing the waters by squeezing it gently, smirking internally when you let him. You finally cracked.

“Ro… I’m not trying to destroy you.” You squeezed his hand back in return, waiting a beat before giving him a smile laced with dynamite. “I am trying to destroy the person you’ve become.” Roman’s smugness quickly faded away as you snatched your hand away from his, standing up and grabbing the contract from his desk.

“But since you don’t want to play ball with me, I’m gonna have to make you sign this contract the hard way. See you on Smackdown, Ro. Watch your back. You'll regret not making things right with me."

Your hand went to twist the knob to storm out, but Roman's voice cut through the air, stopping you in your tracks.

"You can't destroy something you made."

You froze at the door, the weight of his words sinking into your heart. Roman sensed this and stood up from his chair, his soulless blue eyes fixated on your form. "You made me, and I made you."

You turned back, meeting his intense gaze with an unwavering storm brewing in your eyes, the tension crackling between you both like electricity. "Then get ready to watch me tear it all down, Roman."

The door slammed shut behind you, leaving Roman staring at the closed door, wondering if that would be the last time he'd have a chance to reason with you, the last time he would have a chance to have you keep on being the glue that held the Bloodline together, held him together.

But he knew one thing.

He selfishly wouldn't let you leave him no matter the cost.

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"If you're gonna tell me I'm stupid, I'd appreciate it if you'd just get to the point."

Naomi giggled next to you where you both sat in the tiny corner of the bar, the neon ights casting a warm glow over the both of you, drinks in hand as you relaxed for what felt like the first time in forever.

"I wasn't gonna say that, but thanks for the permission," Naomi teased, nudging you with her arm.

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink before leaning back against the bar. Naomi saw the sad expression that flickered across your face and turned to you with concern.

"I hate seeing you like this." She grabbed your hand, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Talk to me."

You sighed, meeting Naomi's gaze with a mixture of frustration and sadness. "It's just... things have been so stressful. Especially with Roman. He's just... not the man I used to know. He keeps hurting me, and I didn't know how to handle it anymore, so I just blew up. Now I have everyone telling me how dumb I am for challenging him. I can't take it."

Naomi listened to your word vomit, squeezing your hand again to comfort you. "Look, I know he's your best friend and all... and he cares for you in his own twisted way... but you have every right to look out for your self. Be selfish. Don't let no man walk all over you, not even him."

She paused, her gaze searching yours, wishing she could take all your pain away. "Maybe I can get Jimmy to leave early, talk to him, sort all this out?"

You heart warmed at the gesture, but you instantly shook your head in rejection. You knew Jimmy would drop anything for you, you were like the little sister he never had, but he was finally seeing his family after months of being on the road, and you didn't want to bother him.

"I appreciate it girl, but I can handle this on my own. I need to do this myself." You replied, offering Naomi a small but appreciative smile.

Naomi nodded understandingly, her gaze still filled with concern. "Okay, but promise me you'll call me if you need anything, okay?" You nodded with a smile, grateful for her support. She was the sweetest friend you could ever ask for.

You nodded with a smile, grateful for her support. She was the sweetest friend you could ask for, and you couldn't be more thankful she was here for you right now. "I promise."

She let go of your hand and gave you a reassuring smile before picking up her drink. "Alright, then let's forget about our problems by drinking them away tonight!” Naomi raised her glass, and you followed suit, clinking them together in a toast.

“This is why I love you!" You drank it all in one go, fully determined to let go for one night and forget about everything. What could go wrong?

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You threw back another shot, waving your arms around and grinding on a man that had been trying to sweet talk his way into your pants for the past half-hour. The music blared through the crowded club, drowning out your thoughts, making you focus on the alcohol pulsing through your veins instead.

Naomi left a few hours ago, but you opted to stay and dance the night away. The man whose name you forgotten turned you around, his hands resting your waist as he smirked down at you. He wasn't bad looking, hair slicked back, a chiseled jawline, tall and muscular. "I'm gonna get us some more drinks, babe. Wait for me?"

You nodded, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Hurry back, handsome."

As he disappeared into the crowd, you found someone else to dance with, it wasn't hard with your confident attitude and red dress showing off just the right amount of skin. You threw your arms around the new distraction, peering up at them through your lashes, your lips parting in a sultry smile. He smiled down at you, arms sitting on your waist, hovering over your ass.

You danced with him for a while, until you yelped when he brought you closer to him, grinding against you more aggressively, licking his lips at the sight of you. "Mind if I kiss you?"

You leaned in, your lips just a breath away from his ear. "I don't mind at all." You leaned in to close the distance between the two of you, so so close to his lips, your own lips almost brushing against his, if you moved just a bit closer you could lose yourself in them-

"Wow, this is a new low for you."

A arm wrapped around your waist and yanked you away from the stranger. You spun around, slightly disoriented, looking up to see the man you had been trying to forget all night- Roman. His eyes were dark with disappointment as he stared down at you, and that made all the feelings you've been trying to ignore rush back. How dare he be disappointed in you when you've done nothing wrong?

You jerked away from his grip, scowling up at him. "You would know about low's wouldn't you?" You spat, the alcohol fueling your anger.

Roman's jaw clenched, his gaze piercing into yours. " And I guess you know a lot about lows, considering the company you're keeping tonight." He retorted, turning to the stranger who was still standing nearby.

"You are going to leave her alone, and get the hell out of here, now." The stranger quickly raised his hands in surrender, not wanting to fight for some drunken encounter. He mumbled an apology before making a fast exist, leaving you alone with Roman.

"Guess I'm following in the footsteps of my tribal chief." you sneered, crossing your arms over your chest. "I would say best friend, but he doesn't seem to remember what that means anymore."

Roman's expression hardened, his nostrils flaring with barely contained frustration. "You're embarrassing yourself. What the hell are you doing?"

You scoffed, his words hurting more than you'd like to admit. "Embarrassing myself? Says the guy who parades around, claiming to be the big, bad Tribal Chief. Maybe I'm just trying to see how it feels to be a heartless asshole, just like you."

Roman's eyes narrowed at your low blow, and he pulled you to a quieter corner of the club, away from prying eyes and judgmental stares. The music still thumped in the background, but the tension between you and Roman was louder.

"I don't want you to be me. I want you to be you." Roman growled, his voice low and intense.

"But this? This isn't you. The person in front of me is an embarrassment, is a disgrace, a mockery of everything I thought you were." His eyes scanned over you, as if he was looking into your soul, searching for something you didn't know existed. "You are better than this."

You laughed bitterly as his last sentence threw a dagger into your heart, a harsh edge to the sound. "Better than this? Better than what, Roman? Better than being the friend who stands by while you tear me apart?" You yelled at him, your voice attracting the attention of some curious onlookers, one of which pushed past people to get to the two of you. Roman's gaze didn't waver, and he stepped closer, the heat of his anger radiating off him.

"You don't get it, do you?" Roman shot back, his voice edged with frustration. "I tore you apart because I care, because I saw you losing yourself, becoming weak. I did it to make you stronger, to make you realize your potential. But you just can't see that, can you? Can't see how weak you've become. "

Your fists clenched at your sides, the alcohol mixing with the swirling emotions inside you. "And you wanna know what I see?"

You got into his face, your breath hot with anger, and you could see every emotion relfected in his eyes. "I see a power hungry man who is a shell of a person he used to be. I see a man who so desperately wants to be accepted, to be loved, to be respected, that he is willing to leave behind his morals to achieve it, to be come the monster he used to despise. You are a monster."

You moved closer to him, your breaths with each other, the air so suffocating you could taste the tension. Feel your two manipulating minds clashing against each other. mingling with his, the air thick with tension. "And you know what's the saddest part? I created this monster. I pushed you to become the Tribal Chief, and now I have to destroy what I made."

You could see the hurt in his eyes that you loved to be able to cause and throw right back in his face, his jaw tight. He matched your energy, glaring you down with an intensity that made your skin burn. "I became the man I needed to be to lead this family. I became the Tribal Chief. If you can't understand that, then maybe you never really knew me."

You chuckled darkly, your eyes never leaving his. "You're right." you said with a bitter laugh, the taste of regret lingering on your tongue. "But you never knew me if you think I'm just going to stand by and watch you destroy everything we built together."

Silence. The silence suffocated you more than the loud music ever could. Everything else faded away as you looked in the eyes that used to hold so much warmth.

Now they were cold, unrecognizable, filled with a distance you never thought possible between the two of you. You waited for a response, for some sign he understood, stared into his soul, waiting for a glimpse of the friend you used to know to emerge from the shadows that you had created.

It felt like an eternity before he spoke up, your breath catching in your throat as he leaned in closer to you, his lips hovering over your ear, his scowling face mere inches from yours.

"I love you, and I always will. But don't mistake my love for weakness." His lips brushed against your ear as his growl vibrated against your skin. "You can't destroy what you don't understand. I won't let your emotions cloud my judgment, unlike you, let it destroy what we've worked so hard for. And after this is over, you will thank me for saving you from yourself."

Roman pulled away from you, and you swore you saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a steely resolve you taught him how to perfect.

You didn't know what you were feeling. Sadness. Regret. But when you looked at him, all you felt was the hurt that he had inflicted on you, the hurt that had pushed you to this point, the hurt you wanted to cause him.

You glared at him, pushing him away from you, the lights of the club flashing in patterns all around you, making your skin glow with anger and your eyes iridescent. "The only person who needs saving is you." The bitterness in your voice matched the taste in your mouth. "And if I take the very thing that is making you lose yourself, then maybe you'll thank me when you realize what you've become."

You stared down at Roman, hoping to see a crack in his stoic facade, a sign that your words had penetrated his defenses. The man who offered to get you drinks earlier walked over to you, but you didn't talk to him, your eyes never leaving Romans as you just snatched the drink from the tray, ushering him away.

Roman's chuckles rang in your ears as you stared at his breaking of the silence, his laughs low and mocking.

"You can't even hold onto a man for a night. How do you expect to hold onto my title?" You knew he was just trying to get under your skin, and it was working, having you play into him, but you didn't care.

Roman groaned in pain as your drink burned his eyes, your grip on the glass bruising as you threw the remnants of the drink in his face, reveling in the satisfaction of finally getting a reaction out of him.

"Fuck you!" You screamed, releasing all your aggression on him, pushing him into the table. "You finally broke me, congratulations! Is this what you wanted?"

You readied yourself to throw your glass cup at him, but a hand grabbed yours, stopping you mid-motion. You turned to see Jey, his concerned eyes pleading with yours, his grip on your hand firm but gentle.

"Baby, listen to me." His brown eyes bored into yours, worry etched on his face. You turned back to Roman, but Jey's voice made you still, and he could tell you were listening to him. "He ain't worth it. He ain't worth all of this." He tugged on your hand again, and your grip loosened slightly but still clenched with rage. "Let go of the glass, calm down, and we can leave, go back to the hotel, put on that movie you were bugging me to watch, and I can make you feel better. Let me make you feel better, okay?"

You never stopped looking at Roman, your eyes pleading, hoping, begging him to stop you, to say something, to do something. But he never did, Jey wanted to spare you from the realization he never would.

Your eyes met Jey's when his free hand cupped your jaw, making you look at him and his calming stare, his shimmering brown orbs grounding you in reality. He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, trying to coax you into calming down. "Please, calm down. For me?"

Roman watched the interaction with intrigue, raising an eyebrow at the way you and Jey interacted with each other, how you looked at each other like you were the only two people in the room, how you gave into him like it was natural.

He stored the information into his brain.His lips curved into a smirk, though it was masked by the remnants of the drink in his eyes as he watched Jey wrap and arm around you, glancing back at Roman, a silent warning in his gaze before leading you away to a secluded corner.

You swallowed hard, the effects of the drinks and the argument with Roman making your throat close up with emotion. You tugged on Jey's arm, making him turn to you with concern etched on his beautiful face.

"I-I need a minute, Jey," you managed to choke out, the emotions that you've been trying to suppress for so long now threatening to spill over. You didn't wait for a response as you bolted for the bathroom, the only one open being the family restroom that was empty at the time.

Your reflection in the mirror showed a face etched with pain; broken, tired eyes stared back at you, tears brimming on the edge, messy hair cascading down your face. The facade you had tried to uphold shattered in that moment.

You splashed water on your face, trying to wash away the anguish, but it lingered, clinging to you like a heavy cloak you couldn't get rid of. Roman was right. You looked like an embarrasment. You were mess. You were a disgrace. You called him a shell of a man, but now you realized you were becoming a shell of the person you used to be.

The first tear came, falling silently down your cheek, followed by another, and soon, you were trembling, sitting down on the dirty floor and silently sobbing into your hands. You deserved this. You weren't innocent, and you knew it. You happily let him hurt others in hopes of making him happy, gloating about your own power over people, only to end up hurting yourself in the process. You deserved this, deserved the karma coming over you for all the hurt you've caused. You let out a muffled cry, wiping at your face.

A knock on the door made you stop in your tracks, the sound pulling you out of your head for a moment. "Can I come in?" a soft voice called out.

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before responding. You didnt want anyone to see you like this, so vulnerable. "No."

The knocking stopped, but you heard the door handle twist. "Let me rephrase that, I'm coming in." It was Jey's voice, and he didn't wait for your response before gently pushing the door open and stepping inside.

He immediately spotted you sitting on the floor, tears streaming down your face, and his heart clenched with concern. "Hey," he murmured softly, crouching down beside you, his warm hand landing gently on your back.

You tried to wipe away the evidence of your breakdown, but Jey caught your hand, stopping you. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured, his voice tender. "You don't have to hide anything from me."

You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze, feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable. You hated feeling like this, and you hated showing it even more. But something about Jey made you want to let your guard down, let him see you for you, not for your cocky facade.

"Am I a bad person?" You sniffled, the question lingering heavily in the air as you looked up at Jey with teary eyes, begging for reassurance, begging him to heal your heart.

Jey's expression softened even more, his eyes full of empathy as he looked at you. "Nah, you not a bad person." he said firmly, his voice laced with sincerity. You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief, not fully convinced by his words.

"But I am Jey." Your voice cracked as you peered up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I've done things… I've hurt people, I manipulate everyone… I'm cocky, and egoistical… I lash out at the ones I care about… I'm just like him. And I don't know how to stop, Jey. I don't know how to fix it." You wiped at your face furiously, but the tears kept coming no matter how hard you tried to stop them. "Please… help me fix it."

You felt your hands being pulled away from your hands, and you tried and failed to look away as you stared up into Jey's comforting eyes that never failed to make you feel like you were in another universe, filled with compassion he reserved only for you.

He cupped your face gently, his touch warm and reassuring. "Look at me," he urged softly, waiting until your eyes met his. "You are not a bad person. You're just human." His thumb traced a soothing path over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "You ain't nothing like him, you hear me? You ain't. You everything he wished he was." Jey leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "You think I don't know the real you you hide behind that tough shit, but I do, and you can't hide it from me. The real you is caring as fuck for those she loves, kind as hell, and the most loving person I know. You got a good heart, sweetheart. You're just lost right now. But that don't make you bad. It just makes you real."

You stared up at Jey like he was made of starlight, his words making you want to believe him, make you want to look past any sense of darkness that had engulfed your heart. No one had ever seen through your facade like he did, and it gave you hope.

"Jey…"You whispered hoarsely, your voice barely audible above the soft hum of the club's music."You really think that? You really believe that I'm not a bad person?" You leaned into his touch, even though you felt like you didn't deserve it. "I didn't even try to stop him when he hurt you, though. I only cared about myself, I only-"

"Hey." Jey's voice was firm yet gentle as he interrupted you, his hand still cradling your face. "You did care. I told you that you can't hide anything from me."

He leaned closer, his forehead touching yours. "I saw that look in your eyes when you held me in that cell, when you held me that night. You fell deep into his words, his eyes, so deep that you didn't even realize that Roman was using you to get to me. And you know what? That's okay."

You savored his words and his warm skin on yours, the guilt churning inside of you slowly diminishing. "Okay?" You echoed, your voice barely a whisper.

Jey nodded, his comforting gaze never leaving yours. "Yes, okay. Because you're not a bad person for caring. Protective, yeah. A bit petty, sure. Stubborn as hell, fuck yeah." You giggled at his words despite the tears still lingering, and Jey smiled at the sound, glad to have brought a hint of happiness to you. "But bad, no. You're just you. And I wouldn't like you if you were tryna be anything else."

The tears finally stopped, and Jey wiped the remants of them gently, before pulling you into his lap, his arms massaging your back soothingly, your head against his chest, his heartbeat calming your racing thoughts.

"I know, baby. I know." Jey soothed you as you clung to him, seeking comfort in his loving arms. His arms always made everything better, and you closed your eyes, breathing in the scent of his cologne and burying your face into his chest, relaxing into the warmth and security he always provided. "I know baby. I got you."

Jey let you stayed like that until you were ready, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, you pulled back slightly, still resting against him. You gave him a small smile, a glimmer of gratitude and hope shining in your eyes. "Thank you." It was a simple sentence, but it spoke volumes. "I don't know what I would do without you, Jey."

Jey smiled softly, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "You ain't gotta do anything without me, okay? I'm here for you, always." He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Now, how about we get out of here, hm? Go back to the hotel, get you cleaned up, watch that movie you were talking about, and just relax?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of happiness wash over you. "That sounds perfect. You're perfect." His smile widened at your words as he helped you up, wrapping his arm around your shoulder protectively as he led you out of the restroom and through the club.

The uber ride back to the hotel was quiet, with Jey’s hand on your thigh, his gaze never leaving yours as you leaned your head against his shoulder, lost in the city lights passing by.

Jey’s arm never left your as he guided you through the hotel lobby, your feet going on autopilot as you let him take the lead. You barely even realized when you arrived at your room, the door clicking shut behind you. Jey gently guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, and you snapped back to reality when he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb wiping a bit of mascara that had smudged under your eyes.

"I'm gon' run you a warm bath, then we gon' relax in the bed, then you gon' go to sleep and forgot about everything that happened tonight and be happy cause that's what you deserve, ai'ght?" Jey softly caressed your skin, and his voice was even softer.

You nodded, giving him a small but appreciative smile. Jey smiled down at you before letting you go to go to the bathroom, but you pulled away slightly, catching his hand. "Wait." Jey turned back, concern flickering in his eyes. "What's wrong?" You hesitated for a moment, before continuing. "How did you and Roman know where I was gonna be tongight?"

Jey's expression softened, and he sighed, a sense of regret crossing his features. "We didn't plan it, not exactly," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "Naomi texted me to not bother you guys, and Roman saw the text and found out where you were. I tried to get him to leave you alone, but he wouldn't listen to me." He paused, his gaze meeting yours, searching for any sign of understanding or resentment. "I knew I couldn't leave you alone with him. And I was right."

You nodded slowly, processing his explanation. "You didn't have to worry about me, Jey," you murmured, gratitude and guilt swirling within you. "But thank you for being there, for looking out for me."

Jey's expression softened even further, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. He wanted to scream at you how crazy you had to be to think he wouldn't worry about how, about how much he cared for you, how he couldn't beat the thought of something happening to you, how he wished he could protect you from every hurt in this world.

But instead, he smiled softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

"You don't have to thank me. I'ma always look out for you, baby." He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, and your heart skipped a beat at the way he was looking at you- as if you were the most precious thing in the world. He smiled down at you once more before pulling away and stepping towards the bathroom. "I'll get that bath ready for you, okay?"

Jey heart pounded in his chest as you smiled back brightly at him, and again when at the end of the night when the movie credits rolled, and you had fallen asleep in his arms, finally looking at peace, the worry and pain of earlier washed away from you.

Jey stayed awake a little longer, moving you so his back was to the bed, keeping you safely cradled in his arms. His gaze lingered on your face, feeling a mix of emotions- protectiveness, relief, anger (at Roman, never at you) and a sense of love he didn't dare label. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with tenderness as he whispered softly to you, "Sleep well, baby. You deserve it."

The anger swelled even more the longer he looked at you. This is where you belonged. In his bed. In his life. In his arms.

And he wasn't gonna let Roman take you away from him, even if it cost you everything.

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𝚂𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙳𝙾𝚆𝙽-𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝙽 𝙰 𝙲𝙴𝙻𝙻

You fidgeted with your bracelet as your eyes burned with how intently you were watching the TV, waiting for the right moment to pounce, waiting for Roman to show his conceited ass out on TV for his weekly shit talking in the ring. This was the last chance you'd have to get rid of the thing that had been destroying everyone, the last chance you'd have to get him to sign the contract that would relinquish his control.

You took a deep breath, putting aside your emotions. You couldn't let your emotions get the best of you, you had to let them fuel you.

A text message alert flashed on your phone, breaking your concentration. It was from Jey.

I'm stuck in traffic, gon' be late. Please don't do anything while I can't stop you.

You sighed, eyes flickering to the TV and your phone. Another text message came, this time more urgent.

Don't do it. Please. I can't let you do this.

You looked up at the sound of Romans music, his smirking face and confident swagger mocking you as he made his way to the ring, Paul Heyman by his side. Your jaw clenched, the fire within you igniting as you watched him boast about how good he was, his dominance, his power, forgetting to mention the fact you helped him get the power he now yields.

You sighed resolutely, pocketing your phone and storming out from backstage, grabbing a mic from a stage tech and marching towards the ring to start the end of all of this.

Roman stopped talking at the sound of your music, his smirk dropping and Paul's eyes widening as they turned to see you striding down the ramp, contract in hand and the usual cocky smirk on your face replaced with an angry glare.

Paul attempted to intervene, but Roman shot out a hand, halting his movements, letting you enter the ring unhindered. You strutted over to him, and even across from each other, the tension was electric. Roman sat up from his chair, standing over you with a challenging stance, not surprised in the slightest at your arrival.

"What, not happy to see me?" You taunted, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you stared back at him with the same challenging glint in your eyes.

Roman's gaze bore into yours, unreadable yet intense. "I'd be happier if you acted like my best friend and supported me instead of trying taking me down."

You scoffed, the bitterness rising within you. "Oh, spare me the sentimental crap, Roman. I have always supported you. But you said it yourself." You leaned in closer to him, the fury in your eyes never fading. "Sometimes you need to show the ones you love the truth so they can understand the pain they cause."

Roman's expression hardened at you, and you saw a flicker of uncertainty beneath his stoic facade. "And you think you can handle the pain?" He challenged, his voice low and dangerous. "You know more than anyone what I've gone through. You've seen it all. Helped me through it all. Saw how it ate at me." Roman came closer to you, his presence comannading and overwhelming. "But you still wanna take this away from me."

You held your breath, your heart torn between what you needed to do and want you wanted to do. You wanted to hug Roman, tell him it was all a mistake, to take back the words you said, but you couldn't. Not when you've reached the point of no return.

"I'm not here to talk about my pain. I'm here to end yours." You held out the contract, your hand shaking slightly. "End the madness. End the hurt. End the pain. End it all."

Roman stared at the contract in your hand, his eyes flickering at the contract in your hand, his eyes flickering between the document and your determined face with a mix of emotions—confusion, anger, and a hint of something that resembled hurt. A tense silence fell over both of you as you stared at each other — the same look in both of your eyes; clash between your egos and your love.

"You really gonna do this to me?" Roman broke the silence, his voice determined yet on the edge of pleading.

His eyes were broken, a vulnerability shining through the mask of the Tribal Chief. It was a look you hadn't seen in a long time, one that made your heart ache with guilt and conflict.

"I love you! I love you so much I gave you everything you ever wanted, everything to make you happy! You're the one person I've trusted with everything. You're the one person I gave my everything to." His words pierced through you like daggers, each one stabbing you in the heart.

Roman backed away from you slightly, a frown creasing his beautiful face, the pain smacking you in the face. "You are supposed to be by my side! Supposed to rule by my side like we planned, like we always wanted." He rubbed his face, like the words he was saying were causing him physical pain. When he looked up at you, his eyes were glistening with unshed tears, pleading for some kind of understanding, some sign of reconciliation. "Please, don't do this. Don't do this to me."

Your heart wrenched at the sight of him crying, at the raw emotions pouring out of him like a faucet, and you were the cause of it. Memories flooded your mind—the smiles you shared, the laughter he always pulled out of you, the shared dreams that had brought you two closer together that you were now living out. You looked at him, really looked at him, his soul, his love, the love in him that was broken.

"Roman, I…," you started, your voice wavering with conflicting emotions. You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears but they slowly came out, but you didnt bother wiping them. You stared at him for an agonizingly long moment before shaking your head, throwing the contract to the ground next to him and backing away, silently sobbing into your hands. "I love you too. I won't. I won't do this." You couldn't bring yourself to finish the sentence, your words catching in your throat as you crumbled under the weight of your emotions tearing you apart.

Romans face shifted from desperation to happiness, the tears still shimmering in his eyes as he watched you break down. He slowly made his way towards you, his steps deliberate and calulcated as he approached you. You moved your face away from your hands, and he could see your tears under the lights, see the same hurt in your eyes.

"Then don't." You peered up at him to see Roman with his arms outstretched, waiting for your answer. Paul, who had been silently watching the ordeal with concern, now had a tooth grin on his face as he walked up to the two of you, his eyes on you.

"You see Miss, the Tribal Chief loves you, he would never want to hurt you!" Pauls voice was loud with excitement as he was literally jumping up and down at the prospect of the two of you making up. He knew just as well as everyone else on the roster the two of you together were a dangerous duo and everyone else would be happy to see the two of you tear each other apart then tear apart the entire roster, and he couldn't let that happen.

"You see him, how he loves you, how you love him. Hug it out! Hug it out! Hug it out!…" Pauls annoying voice seemed so far away in your ears as you stared at Roman, your heart torn between the love you felt for him and the pain that had consumed you.

It felt like hours before you suddenly jumped into his arms, clinging to him tightly, your tears soaking his shirt as he caught you easily and held you close.

Roman's hand gently cradled the back of your head as he held you close. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered back, his voice filled with love and understanding. "I forgive you."

You nodded against his chest, relaxing into the moment and his arms, into the man you trusted the most, not noticing the smirk on his face as he held you just as tightly as you were holding him. You finally pulled back slightly, your voice muffled by your tears. "I know."

You gave him a dazzling smile, caressing his face gently. "But you might not forgive me." You didnt give him time to think about your words before you were giving him a DDT, slamming his head into the chair.

You stood up, wiping your tears away with ease, as if you'd never wept them, staring at Roman's half-fallen form before grabbing the chair and slamming it into his back, making him finally fall down, his mouth groaning in pain.

Paul's mouth dropped in shock and horror as he stared at you, his mouth agape as he tried to moved towards Roman, who was slowly stirring, but a menacing look from you stopped him in his tracks and made him run right out of the ring.

"Forgive me?" You scoffed, your voice holding a cold edge, a stark contrast to the vulnerability you had displayed moments ago, walking towards him, throwing the chair aside and bending down to his level.

"I did nothing wrong accept believe in you! Believe you actually cared about me!" You fishing out a pen from your pocket and glared down at him. "I told you I was gonna do this the hard way." You dropped the pen in front of him with the paper and dropped down on top of him, grabbing his arm and wrenching it back in a submission move.

Roman immediately started to struggle against your hold, grunting in pain as you applied pressure to his arm. "Sign it, Roman!" You wrenched back even harder, and he yelled in pain, his face contorted in agony, but he refused to give in easily. "Sign it and I'll let go!" You pushed him towards the paper, the strain evident in your voice as you applied more pressure to the submission hold. "Sign the fucking paper!"

Roman grunted in pain as he struggled against you, gritting his teeth to try and endure it. "I'm not signing a fucking thing!"

You gritted your teeth, the desperation and anger in your eyes mirroring his determination. "You're making this harder for yourself!" you snapped, your voice laced with frustration and a hint of sorrow.

"Just end it, Roman. Sign the contract!" You gritted your teeth, the desperation and anger in your eyes mirroring his determination. You intensified the pressure on his arm, causing him to cry out in agony.

Roman finally was cracking under the pain, and you cranked up the pressure, finally making him push his free hand out towards the pen and paper. With a gritted jaw and a pained expression, he scrawled his signature across the contract. You didnt let up until the pen dropped from his hand as he collapsed, writhing in agony, clutching his injured arm.

You let go of him, taking a step back and watching him writhe in pain, the sound of his pained groans piercing through your conscience. You took the contract now bearing Roman's signature in your hands, your mind at peace with the chance to end things but your heart achds at the sight of the man you called your best friend in agony. But you knew if you wanted to keep him in your life you needed to do this.

Your head snapped back when you heard Jey's music play, his familiar eyes staring back at you as he raced to the ring, trying to stop what has already started.

But you quickly bolted out of the ring, escaping his grasp, as he lunged forward, his fingers just inches away from reaching you. You clutched the contract to your chest, the thudding of your heart matching the rhythm of your hurried steps.

Jey didnt even look at Roman, didnt even look at Paul who was yelling at him to help Roman. He just stared at you like you were the only thing that mattered, his heart wrenching with each step you took away from him.

"Don't do this!" He screamed with anguish, tears spilling down on his face as he yelled for you, the desperation in his voice making you freeze mid-step, staring at his face that held so much pain that you caused, causing an ache in your chest that matched the one in his.

"Jey...don't." You begged him, your voice cracking with emotion, your lip quivering as you struggled to form words.

Jey would understand. He always did.

"Please, don't do this to him. To us. To me!" His voice wavered as he pleaded with you to come back to the ring, to come back to him.

But you just stood there, your feet frozen in place, tears streaming down your cheeks matching Jey's. And it wasn't the fake one's you shared with Roman.

You couldn't fake anything with Jey. It was real, it was raw, and you hated every second of it.

You took a step backward, your eyes locked with Jey's, silently apologizing for the pain you were causing, for the wounds you were about to inflict.

Jey's voice cracked with agony as he watched you slowly back away. "I ain't letting you leave me!" His words were hauntingly sad, yet had a warning edge in them as you walked away, your eyes filled with tears that blurred your vision as you walked to the back, clutching the contract as if it were a lifeline, not seeing him go to the corner of the ring and clutch the ropes, burying his face in his hands and sobbing his heart out, every cry echoing out his need for you.

Your heart felt like it was being torn apart, but you knew this is what you had to do. And as you delivered the contract to Adam Pearce and got ready to go home, your mind was swirling with many thoughts, but one stood out amongst the rest.

You were going to be the one to end the monster you created, and you weren't going to let anybody stand in your way.

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You laid in bed, but your mind was far away from the comfort of the sheets and the quiet of your room. You couldn't sleep, despite the exhaustion that weighed heavy on your body. Everything that happened was playing on a loop, repeating over and over and over again, each moment etched into your memory.

The echoes of Jey's cries and the heart-wrenching look on his face haunted you. You couldn't shake off the image of his tear-streaked face, pleading for you to stop, to come back to him. But now you knew he wouldn't even want you to come back to him after this, wouldn't want you after this.

And that was the worst part of it all. You were losing the two people you cared about the most, and you couldn't even do anything about it.

Your eyes were dry from how hard you were crying all night, but now you wished you had more tears to cry, to distract yourself from everything you were feeling. You laid on your side, closing your eyes in a futile attempt to get some rest, to force your body to let you relax for once.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

You bolted upright, jolted out of your thoughts by the insistent knocking at your door. Rubbing your tired eyes, you staggered toward the door, feeling the turmoil of the night clinging to your every movement.

As soon as you swung the door open, you were met with lips smashing on yours, catching you off guard. The force of the kiss pushed you a step back, and before you could fully register what was happening, you found yourself being lifted off the ground. Your arms instinctively wrapped around the person's neck, the passion of their lips on yours sending a pleasurable jolt through your body.

It took a moment for your brain to catch up and recognize the person kissing you. It was Jey. His lips were desperate against yours, sloppy yet intense, chaotic yet loving. It was as if he was trying to covey everything he couldn't express in yours through his lips, and you followed suit, matching the fervor of his kiss, pouring all the emotions that had been bottled up inside you. Lust. Passion. Love.

He broke the kiss, his intense gaze locking with yours, his breaths coming out in erratic huffs, mirroring the pace of your heart. His eyes were red and puffy, matching your own, and your heart fluttered at the sight of the raw emotions swirling in his eyes.

"Jey, I-" Jey's finger silenced you, pressing against your lips gently, preventing you from saying anything else. His eyes were stormy with emotion as he stared at you, his expression a mix of love, anger, and desperation.

"You don't get to talk right now," Jey interrupted harshly, his voice strained yet firm. "I need to say this before I lose my fucking nerve."

He lowered you gently to the ground, his hand never leaving your face as he caressed your cheek, his touch both tender and intense. "I watched you leave, and fuck… I was about to lose my mind seeing you walk away… seeing you leave like that… I couldn't take it." Jey's voice quivered with sadness, his grip tightening slightly as if he feared you might slip away again.

"You're so fucking stubborn, so fucking determined, it drives me insane. And that's why I love you."

Your eyes widened at Jey's confession, and you opened your mouth to speak, but Jey's eyes pleaded with you to let him finish. "I fucking love you. There, I said it. I needed you to know. I need you to know that you mean everything to me, that seeing you leave tore me apart, that I can't lose you."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you were speechless. You didnt know what to feel. What to do. How to act. All you knew was that Jey's lips on yours and his arms around you was something you always wanted to feel.

"I don't… I didn't…" Your voice faltered, emotions choking your words as you attempted to articulate your thoughts. You searched for the right words, the perfect response to the whirlwind of feelings rushing through you. "I love you too." With that, you pushed your lips against his.

You felt Jeys smile against your lips, relief flooding through him as he depeened the kiss, pouring his love into it. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the locks as you kissed him fervently, trying to convey all the feelings you couldn't put into words, his taste addicting and intoxicating, and you wanted more of it.

This time it was you who broke the kiss, your forehead resting against Jey's as he looked deep into your eyes. His fingers traced your cheek, sending shivers down your spine as his touch ignited a rush of love and lust within you. "I meant what I said. I ain't letting you go. Not now, not ever." His eyes were soft at the sight of you in his arms, punctuated each word with a gentle kiss against your lips, making you giggle softly in response.

"You are so possessive." You teased, a playful grin tugging at your lips as Jey chuckled softly. "It's hot."

Jey's eyes held an intensity at your words that made your heart skip a beat. "Why you actin' like you don't like it?" Jey smirked, his voice husky with desire, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke. His hand caressed your waist, pulling you closer to him, making your heart race with anticipation.

"Oh, I like it," you whispered back, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "In fact, I think I love it." You leaned in, capturing Jey's lips with yours in a slow, passionate kiss, your tongues tender against one another, slow and addicting before breaking apart.

"I love you." You gushed out affectionately, heart swelling for the man in front of you.

Jey grinned widely, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "I love you more," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin as he held you close, savoring the moment. "And I ain't letting you slip away again."

You smiled back at him, letting him kiss you again and again and again, let him lead you to the bed and show you just how much he loved you, show you just how much he was holding back from you, showing you just how much he cared for you.

And when the dust settled, and your souls merged into one, you found yourself wrapped in Jey's arms yet again, your head resting on his chest as the rhythmic beat of his heart lulled you into a peaceful slumber.

As Jey gazed down at you for the second time in his arms, he knew you were it for him, the person for him.

And he promised himself that if he had to protect you from yourself to keep you, even if it hurt you, he would.

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𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝙽 𝙰 𝙲𝙴𝙻𝙻

"You're up in 10." A stage tech tapped you on the shoulder, pulling you out of the focus of your thoughts.

You nodded in acknowledgement, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves.

Tonight was the night you'd finally get your best friend back, finally get the man you trusted with your life back by taking the very thing he loved the most: His title.

Your thoughts went back to Jey, as they always did as of late, and especially since last night. The two of you didnt really talk today, not because of any arguments but because you both knew what was coming tonight.

You bluntly told him that as much as you loved him, if he waved those puppy dog eyes around you while you were trying to get in the zone, it would only make things harder for you because you'd want to do nothing more but do everything to get back in his arms, which would mean give up on your plan with Roman. You wanted to win, to defeat Roman, and to make things right again.

You straightened yourself out before making your way to the entrance ramp, your heart racing with determination and nerves. You had to do this. You had to win. You had to save him.

That was the mantra running through your mind as you stepped out into the arena, your music blasting through the arena as you put your game face on, strutting down the ramp toward the steel structure looming in the distance with a cockiness that masked the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

You stood in the ring, staring up at the steel structure, the gravity of the moment sinking in as you waited for Roman's arrival. His music hit- and you turned to face the entrance, your gaze fixed on the titantron, awaiting the appearance of the man you once trusted with everything, the man who had become the very source of the pain within you.

Roman came out, the Universal Championship draped over hs shoulder, smirking and exuding the confidence and dominance you taught him as he stepped out and made his way down the ring. Your eyes met, and your gazes locked in an intense standoff, the tension that always seemed ever-present overwhelming you as you stared each other down, emotions running through both your eyes. Hate. Love. Determination.

You finally shifted your gaze away from him, your eyes flickered to the figures behind him- Paul of course by his side, doning a scared expression on his face at the sight of you- and Jey, wearing a guilty expression as he stood in the background, conflicted and anxious at the sight of you glaring at him. You told him to stay back, to stay out of this, that he would be a distr-

You noticed Roman's smirk widened at the sight, and you scoffed internally at his arrogance, realizing his plan. If he thought Jey being here would shake you up, he was sorely mistaken. You were gonna take Roman down, no matter what.

Roman finally made his way into the ring, standing across from you, pride and arrogance written all over his face, almost challenging you to make a move as he held the title high. You smirked back at him, challenging him right back.

The ref's introductions went by in a blur, and before you knew it, the bell rang, and the ref was sealing you both in the unforgiving cell.

You stared at each other for what felt like hours, until suddenly Roman slipped out of the ring, making you scoff as he made his way to the door, snatching the keys from the ref.

"I'ma lock this damn thing myself, cause I'm in control! I'm the one who decides when this ends," Roman boasted, his voice echoing through the arena as he locked the cage, slipping the key's to Jey, who took them with a questioning and guilty look on his face.

"Keep these safe for me, Jey." Roman winked at him before slipping back into the ring, his smirk slipping off as he ran right into a slap across his face from you.

The sound of your palm making contact with Roman's cheek echoed through the arena, and you smirked at the look of shock on Roman's face, as if he really expected you to lay down and let him pin you?

"What's wrong?" You mockingly pouted down at him, sarcasm dripping from your every word. "Get up!"

You pushed him down onto the floor, laughing at the angry expression on his face. "I told you to get up!" You grabbed him by the hair, dragging him up and pushing him into the corner, backing up wisely and enjoying the look of shock and anger contorting Roman's face.

Roman chuckled darkly, wiping the corner of his mouth and looking up at you with a twisted grin. "You wanna play?" He taunted, his voice laced with a hint of amusement despite the pain that flashed across his face as he stood up, stalking towards you like you were his prey.

You watched as he strided towards you, an equally twisted grin on your face. You beckoned him to come closer with a daring look in your eyes. The air crackled with tension, each step he took mirroring your own until you were standing face-to-face, mere inches apart.

"Let's play, Ro."

Let the games begin.

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Pain.

All you felt was pain as you gasped for breath, the kendo sticks raining down upon you with unforgiving force. The sharp sting of each strike left your body aching, and you laid on the mat, trying to shield yourself with your body, trying to crawl towards the ropes.

WACK. "You made me do this!"

WACK. "This is your fault! Why are you making me hurt you!?"

WACK. "You made all this happen, everything happening to you right now, you can blame YOURSELF FOR!"

Roman's cocky voice haunted you with every strike, his words digging into your skin deeper than the kendo stick. Tables and chairs were strewn all around the ring, blood coating the mat.

Roman was surprised, he wasn't expecting this much of a fight from you. You had given it as good as you got in this brutal match, countering his strength and towering height for as long as you could with your agility and in-ring intelligence, and his busted open face was the evidence of that.

But you couldn't put it off forever, and with every passing minute, your body screamed with pain, each breath as agonizing as the last. Your vision blurred, your muscles protested with each movement, and yet you refused to submit, refused to give up.

Roman stalked you as you took shelter in the corner, your knees buckling under the excruciating pain coursing through your body. He sauntered over to you, fully prepared to give you another strike, but the tears in your eyes seemed to give him pause.

For a moment, his expression softened, a flicker of something resembling regret crossing his features. He hesitated, the kendo stick poised mid-air at your face.

"Please..." You begged, sobbing against the pain, your voice barely audible between your sobs. "Stop this, Roman... please... I give up."

Roman's grip on the stick loosened, and he saw the desperation in your eyes, the genuine pain that resonated in your plea, and for a brief moment, a pang of guilt shot through him.

He hesitated, the kendo stick wavering in his hand as he looked down at you, your vulnerability piercing through his hardened exterior. "You give up?" He smiled, and Your voice barely made it past your trembling lips as you nodded weakly, the effort to speak taking every ounce of energy you had left. He studied your face for a moment longer, trying to see if you were telling the truth.

And then, unexpectedly, Roman dropped the kendo stick to the mat, stalking you with a mix of emotions on his face—anger, frustration, and a hint of pity.

He finally made his way towards you, and you peered up at him, struggling to meet his gaze through tear-filled eyes, your body trembling from the pain and exhaustion. Roman crouched down in front of you, his expression unreadable as he looked at your battered form.

You gave him a nod that spoke volumes, outstrethching your arms apologetically, signaling your surrender. "Please…" Roman studied you a moment longer hesitantly before he made his way closer to you.

When he hesitantly got close enough to you, you sat up and in one swift motion, pushed him harshly into the waiting table on the outside, sending him crashing down hard, the table splintering on impact.

You pulled yourself up weakly, sliding out of the ring and dragging yourself to Roman, staring at his broken form, staring at your broken best friend, knowing you had to break him again to save him.

You ignored Jey’s pleading eyes staring from outside the cell as you had been all match as you hauled Roman up from the table, using all your strength to pull him. “This is it, Roman," you hissed through gritted teeth, dragging him to the ring. "It ends now.”

You pinned his crumbled form, praying he would just give up now, praying he would listen to you for once.

ONE

TWO

THR-

You cried out in frustration when Roman pushed you off of him just before the final count.

Roman rolled away, panting heavily, his eyes locked on you with that same cocky defiance he had the entire match, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You scrambled to your feet, desperation clawing at your throat. This had to end. You couldn't let it continue any longer. Your body protested every move, every breath, but your eyes flickered towards to the kendo stick laying next to you, and you staggered towards it, gasping as pain shot through your body.

All the guilt, all the regret that flooded your body since the bell rang washed away when you gazed at Roman, at his soulless eyes, in his heart that you no longer recognized. You needed to get it back. You needed to save him.

SLAM! Roman let out a pained groan that the strike at his mid-section, trying to shield himself from you, peering up at you and seeing the same soulless eyes he had staring right back at him.

SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! You slammed him with it, on his ribs, his legs, anywhere you could hit, over and over and over again, the pain in your heart matching the agony etched on Roman's face with each strike. Tears mixed with sweat, your breaths ragged as you continued to rain down blows upon him.

SLAM. “You made me do this!” you screamed between sobs, striking him in the stomach.

SLAM. “You should have listened to me!” You cried out, tears streaming down your face as he yelled out in agony as you smacked in in the jaw with it.

SLAM. “Why won’t you just stop and come back to me!” You sobbed, the kendo stick landing blow after blow, as if trying to beat some sense back into Roman, your voice breaking with every word.

Roman laid there, unable to stop you from releasing your emotions on him. Unable to stop you from releasing your pain on him, releasing everything onto him, making you feel everything he made you feel, until you let out a final guttural scream, throwing the kendo stick down and tugging your hair and collapsing in the corner, staring at the destruction you caused.

Everything that led up to this moment flashed every emotion, every choice, every regret, and every sacrifice you made. And as you looked at Roman, the confidence of his earlier gone and replaced with hurt, you knew you had to make the biggest sacrifice of your life.

You slowly walked towards him, his eyes trained on you, preparing for a blow. But you gripped his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes, a well of emotions swirling through both your orbs. Tears stained both your faces, a poignant silence in the air .

“I'm sorry, Roman," you whispered hoarsely, your voice trembling with regret, and determination. You pressed your forehead against his, tears mingling, and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still.

That moment passed, and you hauled yourself up, sadness turning into a determined glare as you stared at him. “This ends now.” You pushed him down to the mat, using your weight on his back to evade his strength and grabbed his arm, wrenching it behind his back in an excruciating hold, the pain etched across Roman's face evident as he struggled against your grip, his cries echoing in the cell.

"Please give up Roman, please." You shouted, your voice cracking with emotion as you strained to maintain the hold, your entire body trembling from the effort and exhaustion.

“I need you back. I need you to come back to me!” You pulled even harder, begging him to just give up this one time.

“I am with you!” Roman finally screamed back, voice cracking with the same emotion as yours, shaking his head at the ref, refusing to tap out. He used his strength to push himself up with you on his arm, pushing himself out of the ring and hoping you would be dumped on the outside from his weight.

But you held on, holding on for dear life as the two of you dropped in front of the cell doors, dragging him back down and wrenching back as hard as you could. Your eyes locked with Roman's, pleading silently for him to end this, to give in and put an end to this.

Suddenly, after what felt like an eternity, Roman's arm finally tapped against the ground, and you let go, but the ref yelled from in the ring that the match couldn't end outside the cell.

Your eyes widened in shock, but your face turned into a snarl as you watched Roman crawl back in the ring. It was now or never. All you had to do was crawl and lock in the submission and you’d wi-

“Stop!” Jey’s pleading voice made you freeze in your tracks, realizing you were standing across from him, the cell doors separating you. You turned towards Jey, your chest heaving and your breath labored, your body screaming with exhaustion. Your gaze met his, and your heart dropped saw the anguish and fear in his eyes as he stood there, watching everything that happened unfold.

"Please, don't do this," Jey pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. He reached out towards you, his hand pressing against the steel structure that separated the two of you, as if trying to bridge the gap between your hearts.

“Don’t go through with this. Don’t do this to him. I can’t let you be like him!” His hand clutched at the steel bars, his eyes teary and his heart pleading for you to stop.

Your resolve wavered, torn between finishing what you started and the overwhelming pain in Jey’s face. The image of Roman, right where you wanted him, battered and vulnerable, flashed through your mind, intertwining with Jey's tear-stained face. And you knew what you had to do.

You turned to Jey, giving him a sad smile, your hand resting against the cold steel beside his. "I have to do this, Jey," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I'm sorry."

Jey shook his head in disbelief, his eyes begging you to reconsider. "No, you don't. You don't have to do this. Please, come back to me. We can figure this out together. I can't lose you like this," Jey pleaded, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes, conflicting emotions swirling within you. “I’m sorry.” you repeated, your voice quivering. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, and turned away slowly, your body begging you to just go into Jey’s arms-

SPEAR!

Jey looked on in horror as Roman flipped your body over with a sudden spear, capitalizing off of Jey’s distraction and knocking you down onto the steel ramp outside the ring.

Roman's fierce gaze pierced through Jey as he towered over your, the vindictive triumph in his eyes sending a chill down his spine.

“That’s why you’re my right hand man!” The guilty look on Jey’s face came back as Roman gave him a beaming smile, pointing at him with a smirk.

"You da man, Jey!" Roman laughed twistedly, relishing in the sight of you lying in pain, the once familiar and loving face of his best friend now reduced to a pained grimace. Jey's heart sank as he watched his worst fears come true, watch as Roman crawled into the ring, a wicked smirk on his face as he stood over your lying body, reveling in the pain on your face.

Roman slowly kneeled in front of you, taking your chin in his hands, the softness in which he held your face contrasting the dark tone in his eyes.

"Look at me." Roman's voice was menacing yet soft, a malicious edge cutting through the air as he glared down at you, his fingers tightening around your chin. "I said look at me!" You looked at him through teary eyes, your vision blurred from the pain and exhaustion. His grip on your chin was tight, forcing you to meet his gaze, the intensity of his stare unnerving you and making your skin crawl.

"I didnt want to do this. I don't want to do this." Roman's voice was laced with scorn, his face contorted with anger. "You made me do this! You made me hurt you like this!" He snarled, shaking your head with force, the pain searing through you with each movement.

You tried to speak, to reason with him, but your voice faltered, barely a whisper escaping your lips. "Please, Roman, stop this… I had to"

He laughed bitterly at your plea, his laughter echoing through the cell, sending shivers down your spine. "Stop? Why would I stop? You have to do this, right? This is what you wanted, isn't it? To see me like this, to feel what I feel!" His voice was a venomous hiss, punctuated by the fury burning in his eyes.

You reached out, a desperate attempt to reason with him, but Roman seized your wrist, his grip like a vice, his face contorted with pure malice. "I told you I was gonna save you from yourself, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do." he growled, pulling you up harshly, making you cry out in pain as he dragged you to the center of the ring.

"And if you do what I'ma know your stubborn ass is gon' do, then I know I was right." He pushed you to the ground, putting his entire body weight on you, praying you'll pick the right choice as he pinned you.

You proved him right by barely kicking out at the last second, his body pressed hard against yours, the pain almost unbearable. Roman kissed his teeth and tutted apologetically.

"I was right, I'm always fucking right" he muttered, his expression a mix of disappointment and anger.

"You're really gonna make me do this, huh?" You struggled beneath him, trying to catch your breath, your body aching from the relentless assault. Roman leaned down, his face inches from yours, his hot breath brushing against your skin as he spoke. "You'll thank me later."

His voice was cold, devoid of any emotion and you knew you weren't gonna be able to manipulate his emotion anymore. You braced yourself, knowing what was about to come, and it was worse than anything you'd endured in the match so far.

You gasped for air as Roman pulled you into a guillotine chokehold, squeezing tightly around your neck, cutting off your air supply. You gasped and wheezed, struggling to breathe as panic set in, your hands desperately clawing at his arms, trying to break free from his vice-like grip, but it was no use.

You tried to hang on, scratching at his arms with your nails, trying to break free, but your strength was fading rapidly. The world around you faded into a blur, darkness encroaching at the edges of your vision. Your thoughts spiraled, flickering between moments of pain and memories of happier times, almost all of them including the man who was hurting you. You fought against the encroaching darkness, desperate to stay conscious, to resist the overwhelming urge to succumb to the blackness that threatened to engulf you.

"Just quit!" You could barely shake your head at Roman's screams fading away in your ear, only able to feel the air squeezing out of your body. You didnt know how long it had been, but you could feel Roman's anger increase the longer you refused to tap out by the tightness of his grip increasing. Just fucking quit!"

It could've been hours, days , or mere moments—time lost its meaning as your vision was turning to black as you fought to hang on, the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your body fought desperately for air, the lack of oxygen making every movement feel sluggish and labored. You were on the verge of blacking out, the edges of your consciousness dimming. "Just fucking quit, god damn it! Why won't you quit?!"

Just when you thought you couldn't endure it any longer, your body weakening and the world spinning, the pressure around your neck suddenly released.

Gasping for air, you collapsed to the mat, coughing and sputtering, drawing in deep, desperate breaths, not even having enough energy to open your eyes, let alone move any part of your body. The pounding in your head was deafening, your body felt as if it had been through a grueling war, every muscle aching and protesting with agony.

You lay there, your chest heaving, and it took you a few moments to realize someone was shaking you gently, calling your name over and over again. The voice was faint, barely audible over the ringing in your ears, but it was persistent.

"Come on, wake up. Please, wake up," the voice pleaded, the desperation and fear evident in every word. The shaking became more insistent, and you felt a hand on your shoulder, urging you to move.

Slowly, painfully, you managed to pry your heavy eyelids open, your vision blurry and unfocused. As the world came back into view, you saw Jey's worried face hovering above you, his eyes wide with concern and fear.

"Hey, hey, look at me." His voice was shaky, filled with emotion as he cradled your face in his hands. "I got you, baby. I got you."

You struggled to speak, your throat raw and parched, but you managed to croak out a weak, "Jey?"

Tears welled up in his eyes as relief flooded his features. "Yeah, it's me. Thank God, you're awake." Jey softly caressed your face before letting you go and turning away from yo , and that's when you noticed the keys in his hand, and Roman with an angry expression on his face, pushed far away from you.

Jey must've not been able to take anymore of the match and used the keys to come in and push Roman away to save you. Your eyes widened in realization and you tried to push yourself up and speak, but your body protested vehemently against any movement.

You winced, feeling the pain coursing through every inch of your being, and all you could do was watch as Jey made his way to Roman, who was sitting on the mat, the angry look on his face fading into a unreadable glare as Jey kneeled beside him, tear stains marking his face, his eyes downcast as he took Roman's hand, hoping Roman still had some sanity left to listen to him.

"Please Roman..." . Roman seemed to resist at first, pulling away slightly, but then seemingly softened at the begging tone in Jey's voice. "She won't quit... take mercy on her. She loves you. She's doing this because she loves you. You know that! And if you love her, you'll stop this!" Jey squeezed his hand tightly, putting his forehead on his, praying in his entire being that Roman will finally listen to him. "And I love her... so please... stop this."

Roman closed his eyes, the arena lights casting shadows on his face, and for a moment, he looked like a man battling his inner demons. Not the tribal chief, not an invincible power hungry individual. Just a man.

Roman finally opened his eyes, staring at Jey- not as usual like he could see through him- but like he was seeing him for the first time. His eyes were no longer soulless, they were vulnerable, they were hurting; they were human.

Roman squeezed Jey's hand back, a gesture that spoke volumes more than any words could convey. He nodded against Jey's forehead, and it was like they had a silent conversations they spoke through with their eyes in a language only they could understand.

Jey's eyes lit up, and he squeezed Roman's hand back again in acknowledgment before bringing Roman into a one armed hug, all the feelings that got them to this point washed away as Jey buried his face in Roman's neck, holding onto him as if he was afraid to let go.

Roman cradled the back of Jey's head gently, time standing still as they embraced in the ring. Roman was the one who ended up pulling away, gently breaking the embrace. He looked at Jey with emotions he couldn't put into words, but Jey understood it, understood what he was trying to say.

"I love her too, Jey." Roman whispered softly, as if he was revealing a secret he had long kept hidden. He leaned in close, so close that their breaths mingled, his hand still on the back of Jey's head. Then the vulnerability vanished. The emotions washed away. And any remants of humanity were wiped away.

"And that is why I have to do this."

Roman's understanding expression was replaced with a dark smirk on his face that made Jey's smile drop, and his lungs seize as Roman pulled him into the guillotine hold, any hopes Jey had dying down as he gasped for air, his body being pulled down to the mat as he clawed Roman's arm, desperate for release. Roman'e eyes were now cold and determined, the arena lights flickering, reflecting the conflict within Roman's eyes, torn between the man he could be and the tribal chief he had become.

You gasped for breath as you watched the horror happening right in front of you, Jey's eyes pleading for mercy as he gasped for breath, the arm that wasn't clawing at Roman desperately being held out to you. It felt like deja vu- your mind going back to the way Jimmy had cried out, pleaded for mercy, reaching out to Jey just like Jey was doing to you right now.

And just like Jey, you couldn't do anything about it. You couldn't fight back, you couldn't manipulate your way out of it, all you could do was watch on helplessly, moving your tired body closer to Jey's and intertwining your fingers with his outstretched hand, the desperation in his eyes mirrored your own feelings of powerlessness.

'This must've been his plan all along' your brain screamed at you as you squeezed Jey's hand with all your might, your body screaming at you to do something as you watched Jey cry for mercy. Bringing Jey out here...giving him the key... making him watch everything unfold.

Roman knew Jey knew you wouldn't give up no matter what, and that would eat at him, and he used that against the both of you. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, but a little voice in your brain couldn't help but respect him for how far he would go as a sickening feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew what you had to do.

"I give up!" You yelled out, gripping Jey's hand tighter as you shouted, your voice echoing through the arena.

"I quit! I quit, Roman! You win! You fucking win!" Your free hand tapped rapidly against the mat, tears streaming down your face as you pleaded for Roman to release Jey and spare him.

Roman's gaze shifted from Jey to you. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he watched you tap out over and over again in submission, begging him to stop as the bell ringing to signal the end of the match. He didn't stop until his name rang from the speakers, and then finally, he released Jey from the hold, letting him collapse to the mat, gasping for air.

You finally found the energy to move and rushed to Jey's side, kneeling beside him as you gently cradled his head in your hands. Jey rolled over, breathing heavily, eyes filled with pain and sadness as he collapsed on top of you, his body shaking you held onto him, running your fingers through his hair soothingly, whispering comforting words even as your own tears fell.

Roman stood tall in the center of the ring, the Universal Championship slung over his shoulder, a smile playing on his lips as he gazed at the sight of you and Jey, him engulfing your body in his bigger frame protectively, comforting each other with a tenderness that seemed to contrast the brutality of the match.

Roman's eyes shifted from smugness to happiness as he slowly walked out of the ring, the arena lights casting a sinister glow on his face. He finally got his best friend back, got his person back right where you belong, by his side, and made sure Jey was right there with you. Roman was sure that even if you didn’t get over this-which you would-he knew that you might have tried to beat his ass, but you wouldn’t let anyone else touch him no matter your anger. Paul brandished him by his side as he casted you one last smile before making his way up the ramp.

Jey was feeling that same happiness, despite the pain and exhaustion, despite all the shit that happened. Despite all the odds, despite Roman destroying everything in his path, Jey fulfilled his promise whether you liked it or not. He didn't let you let Roman destroy your soul.

And that's all Jey ever wanted for you.

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