#satcnized

for: @satcnized

based: linked in source

She was playing with fire, and she knew it. Luca wasn’t the brooding, misunderstood type. He didn’t smolder. He burned. And she’d seen the warnings branded across his face a hundred times—hot-headed, violent, unhinged—but she still lit the match. Maybe she thought he wouldn’t bite. Maybe she forgot what happened when a man like him snapped. Because he did. The second she brushed him off, turned her back like he didn’t matter—like her little performance was enough to dismiss him—he was moving. Fast. Heavy boots stomping the distance in three furious strides before his hand closed around her throat and shoved her against the cold closet wall. “You tired?” he spat, his grip firm, almost crushing. Enough to make sure she felt it. Felt him. “You looked wide awake spreading your fucking legs for someone other than my brother.” His breath hit her cheek, hot and laced with smoke. His eyes burned through her—no warmth, no hesitation. Just rage sharpened to a fine, deadly point.

There was no excuse for what Luca did. Not really. Not if you looked at it cold. Not if you looked at it right. He could’ve handled it differently—should’ve. Sat down. Talked. Demanded answers. Hell, he knew the marriage was fake, just some political play dressed up with champagne and a diamond ring. Ace didn’t love her. She didn’t love him. That much was clear. They were beautiful armor for each other, nothing more. And still. Ace had the decency to be discreet. To pretend. But her? Screwing someone else like it meant nothing? Like Luca hadn’t spent every goddamn day pretending he didn’t want to tear the world in half just to touch her the way Ace could? No. That—that—he couldn’t let go. It wasn’t just betrayal. It was jealousy. Raw. Violent. Terminal. Because Luca could live with being second to his brother. Could live with never having her. What he couldn’t stomach was the thought of some nameless, worthless bastard getting what he’d buried a thousand feet deep inside himself just to keep the peace. So when he saw the proof—grainy photos, grainy enough to leave room for doubt but not enough to save her—something inside him cracked. Luca didn’t just want answers. He wanted blood.

He didn’t want to yell or guilt her into a confession. He wanted to drag that faceless prick into the street, make her watch while he broke him apart—fingers first, then the jaw, ribs, legs, slow and methodical. Wanted her to see exactly what her touch had cost. Wanted to grind the man into the pavement until she understood that Luca Marino did not share. Not her. Not ever. Because beneath the fury, beneath the betrayal and bone-deep hurt, was the sick, seething truth: he wanted her. Even when she was stained with someone else’s hands. Even when all he could taste was ash and violence. And that—that—was what made him dangerous.

for: @satcnized

it wasn't often that aspen dared venture out to a nightclub or other such place. she felt like she was crawling out of her skin and needed to do something. especially since it had been a good month or so since she had seen or heard from akira. she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. he still confused her endlessly in more than one way. she never imagined that they would become so tangled up in one another after that one night.

she had opted to have some liquid courage before going on the dance floor. after a few dances, she wanted to catch her breath. though she never imagined that some random guy would approach her. she had seen his friends all watching from their booth. it was clear they were plastered and she was frozen. it had been what felt like an eternity since someone had expressed any sort of interest.

ask memes are open && desired!!

it shouldn't have been possible for a demon old as time itself to be cut and drawn to their knees by none other than a girl. even now, somewhere inside of rayan howled in laughter at the mere notion of it, some part of him that existed outside of himself. the part of him with rationality left, instead of a useless, bleeding, throbbing organ taking place inside his chest.

there should be echos of almosts and maybes, not an inferno of something tangible. there wasn't room for a girl, there never had been. lovers were accessories, you chose which reflects your mood best on the day. allowing any of them, even one, to be anything but that was begging at the doorstep of ruination. it was all but blasphemy against all rayan held most dear.

yet here he was. the embers of his orange-hued eyes were at a smolder, a low, flaring glow instead of the usual bright, angry flash of mischief. when had it changed, the fire in his pupils, when had it come to be tamed by her hand? " i can't help it. " he agonized along with her, for they both were being cracked open from skull to sternum. it crackled like electricity between them, lingering on the air, hanging off of his words like frost. every single side of her, he'd seen. all of her masks, he'd slowly, patiently peeled back. from one jagged, barbed edges to the soft, damaged insides, rayan had loved every bit of her.

he loved her. he had fallen in love with the girl on the screen, and then he'd gone and made her real.

now they were both damned.

" i see you and i see the only reason there ever was to these countless lives i've lived. "

for: @satcnized

aspen never imagined her life would become so tangled with his. once upon a time she had been just like everyone else. she could have walked down a street and no one would even bat an eye. those days were long gone and she knew they'd never come back. that didn't mean that she had anticipated being cornered again. it wasn't as if she had sought others out after that night at the admiral's arms, so long ago. she had no idea if it was because of what he had done, the statements that he had made about being out in the open.