#he's a bastard he's a baby he's everything.

[ray935sworld]

Valentino Rossi's academy of supernatural rider (Chapter 20: Not just empty threats)

TW: mention of suicide, violence, threats and death

Vale was walking through the corridors. He didn’t ask where he had to go. He knew it in an instant. He didn’t even question who he was so sure to find his way in a place he had never been before. He knew where to go and how to get there without being noticed.

And he didn’t hesitate as he pushed the door away. He heard a dark knock as the door hit the wall. It sounded violent. He didn’t care. He couldn’t. He just didn’t had it left in him.

All he felt was pain. He felt hate. He felt fear. He felt the bussing feeling of loneliness in his head showing him that his brother was almost gone. Only his wolf remained. He hated that feeling. He wanted to rip his head open and destroy it himself.

26 year were too short of a time to stop being able to have Luca close. And all he wanted was to hug his baby brother. He wanted to hold him close, give him a kiss on the forehead and tell him that everything would be fine. He wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter who said what about him, because he would never be alone. He would always be by his side, even if the world was against him. Noone could separate them.

Vale wanted to comfort Luca, like he had done so many times ever since the young boy had been born. He wanted to hold him close and protect him from the world. He wanted to dry his tears and distract.

But he couldn’t and as he stared inside the room, he saw the reason right there.

Alex sat up straight, taken aback by the sound. He immediately froze on the spot as he looked up. He felt his mouth hang open and his eyes widen. He was the last person he had expected. He hadn’t expected anyone. Maybe Luca. But he never thought he would see him right now.

There was a lot to say after all and he really didn’t had the strength to say it now. He just didn’t want to deal with him now.

But here he was.

He took a deep breath, ready to say something. He wasn’t even sure what he’d say. He wanted to explain. He

wanted to say they should step outside to give Marc some peace and quiet.

Marc was sleeping. He didn’t want to wake him up right now. He was still weak. Alex hoped the Italian would at least have the heart to leave Marc out of this for now while Dani stayed there to make sure the new werewolf didn’t do anything stupid.

Well and then there was this werewolf issue they had to deal with. So lots of conversations, Alex didn’t want to have.

But why now?

This whole situation seemed to only be getting worst and Alex started to wonder if fate was currently laughing at him with all the different turns his life had taking in the course of 4 days.

He took a deep breath, ready to ask Rossi to leave Marc out of this but he didn’t. He couldn’t. The pure rage on Vales face was enough to silence him.

It was such a raw expression. His eyes cold. His pupils were smaller than usual. He pulled his lips up revealing teeth clearly too sharp to be human. If it hadn’t been for Dani’s explanation that both brothers were werewolf, he would question that.

Rossi was angry. That surely couldn’t be good. The only reasonable explanation would be Luca. Alex assumed he had called him and explained everything that happened.

Luca must have mentioned Marc’s injury, the change, their fight… And for some reason that was enough for the retired rider to just show up.

So where was he?

Had he left him alone again but this time with an angry Vale? It somehow felt like another betray. Like Luca was throwing Alex to the wolf. To Rossi.

“YOU!” the Italian hissed loudly. “You fucking bastard-!” before someone could do anything, Vale was already next to Alex, grabbing him at the neck of his shirt. He pulled him up and pressed him against a wall. His hands were on his collar. He used all his force to press him against the wall.

It was inhuman strength.

“What the fuck have you asshole done to my brother? What have you done to him?” He almost screamed. He pressed Alex against the wall who could help but let out a sound of pain. The cold stones were pressed against his spine.

Vales eyes were wide and crazy. He looked like he was about to lose his mind.

“Vale, calm down!” Dani had gotten up just as quickly. His hand went towards Vales, trying to ease the grip around the shirt of the young man. “Calm down?!” he spit back. The disgust was clear in his voice as his hands reached for Alex jaw.

Violently. He pulled his face up. He pressed the back of his head against the wall. It was a lot. Alex wanted to scream but he felt like any sound would just make this worst.

“I am this close to bite out his vocal cord and fucking swallow it and you’re telling me to calm down?!”

Alex whined. He was afraid. He was so fucking afraid because he believed Vale. He was serious about hurting him. He was already conflicting physical pain and his level of anger was so high he definitely could be able to. And he didn’t know how Vale being a werewolf affected this all.

He wanted to cry. He felt weak. Like a child. He was helpless and he didn’t understand what was even going on. He wanted to be protected and his first thought was Luca. Luca always said he would always protect him. Against everyone and everything.

So where was he? Why was he letting him down? Again?

But Dani was there and he didn’t care about Vale’s strength. Dani was ready to defend Alex against everything and everyone. Alex was his little brother just as much so he took the Italians attack personal.  

“Yes I do!” The Spaniard replied, forcefully ripping his hands of the boy. “Because right now you are acting like a stubborn 5 year old that is angry because his best friend talks to someone else. You are a grown man, get a fucking hold of yourself and act like it!” Dani screamed.

Screaming was for the calm man unusual but he would not accept Vale speaking to Alex like that.

Vale slightly turned to him. His murderous glance now directed at the other retired rider. “Careful, Pedrosa. I am much stronger than you are” he said, letting his teeth flash in the artificial light.

Jorge looked from his husband to his former teammate. He would get in between them in a heartbeat if Dani was in real danger. But right now it were just threats and no real risk. And he knew that his husband could handle Vale better than anyone else. Especially like this.

“Try your luck, Wolfie. I am not scared of you.” He replied coldly. He took a step towards him, looking up at him. He pressed him slightly away, giving Alex the chance to make a run. Quickly, he dogged away and fled to the other side of the room, where Jorge put a protective arm around him.

He pulled him close, feeling him shiver for a moment. He wanted to kill him right there and then just for scaring Alex. They wouldn’t let anyone threaten their boys.

“You are just angry because your little brother is in a relationship with someone you don’t like.” Dani said in the meantime. “And I know the Marquez family aren’t on top of your preferred in law list, but Luca and Alex are a great couple. They… It is complicated at the moment but every couple has their fights. I’m sure they’ll-“

“Oh shut the fuck up! You think I care that he is fucking my baby brother right now when he-“ “Baby brother?” Jorge interrupted, his arms crossed in front his chest. They wouldn’t be easy for any of them. “We are talking about a grown ass man. He’s closer to 30 than to 20. Fucking act like it.”

Vale used the moment to give his ex-teammate a look of ‘shut the fuck up’ before he replied with a stern “Baby brother. Still. And he will always be. Asshole.”

“Hold up…” Alex said, after having found the trust in his voice again. “If… If this is not about me and Luca dating- “ He just decided to go along with this version as he had no interest in explaining his dating and moral dilemma to the angry brother of his boyfriend or potential ex-boyfriend. “Then what the fuck is this about?”

Vale went from completely ignoring him to staring at him in disbelief. The look on his face was priceless. He was taken aback by that. The shock or surprise seemed to cover his hate for a moment. Obviously, it had been clear to him that whatever was going on, should be well known to Alex.

“You – You don’t know, do you? You have no idea what you done to him?” There a laugh at the end of his sentence, but it only made him look insane. Not happy. Or relived. It was an insane laugh, like he could believe what was going on.

“What I did to him?” Alex repeated and now he was the one that felt close to insanity. He tried to go over everything in his head. What had he done? He remembered everything and for a second the hurt came back and he just wanted to cry and disappear. But he didn’t. Marc was back. He was save. There was no reason to break down again.

He pulled himself back up. Marc was alive. Luca was who knows where after their fight.

“You have no idea what went down here the last days” he stated, his voice slightly shivering. He was so close to just scream and let all the emotions he gathered during the last days out. But he wouldn’t give Rossi the satisfaction of knowing that he got to him.

“So don’t you dare fucking judge me.” He was proud of himself for standing his ground. He felt Valentino look him up and down. It was a judgy look. He looked angry and just as Alex was about to call it a win for him, the Italian responded “You really are an as arrogant asshole as your fucking brother” and the other froze on the spot. Because what is that even supposed to mean?

“Okay, Vale, that’s enough” Dani said annoyed. “If you’re just hear to insult Alex, just fucking leave.”

“Trust me, I will. I would love to do nothing else but leave but before I can do that, I need to know what this cunt did to my brother that he lost his mind!” “Lost his mind? Are you delusional?” Alex scoffed. This was starting to get ridiculous. There was no sense in his words.

“We had a fight. Okay? Yes, I said some mean things after he tried to murder my brother. Sorry that I have emotions!” he said, his gaze not leaving Vale. Alex was fed up. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to be with Marc, who was still sound asleep, unaware of the events in his surroundings. He wanted to be with Luca and talk everything through. He wanted his boyfriend back. He wanted the relationship back he had a few days ago when everything was good.

Rossi however was not on the list of people who he wanted to deal with.

“But fucking hell” the younger Marquez took a deep breath as he continued. “He is an adult. I am sure he can handle some insult and being yelled at without you playing bodyguard or whatever the fuck you’re currently trying to do.”

“You really have no idea what you did”

Alex was really close to just throw a book at him for his cryptic statements.

“Valentino, I…” he sighed. For a moment he actually considered just calling security and throwing him out. He was very close but he assumed it would just complicate things further. This particular Italian really wasn’t known for being able to handle rejection well. “Luca and I –A lot has happened, okay? You can’t blame me for saying things I shouldn’t have said in anger. You’re the expert in that, after all” “Oh fuck off, Marquez”

He had no hesitation so he just replied with “How many times have you said that, hoping to end an argument” “Careful with your words, fucker” And Alex scoffed at that. That boy was done. He almost lost his brother. The love of his life had lied to him for years. And now he had to deal with Marc being a werewolf and a fucking Italian with anger issues and attitude problems.

“No.” he said, deciding enough is enough. He didn’t act rational. There was no justification for it. So he refused to put up with it. “You come here, in my brother hospital room and attack me. You have the audacity to physically attack me, threaten me and scream at me cause I had a fight with your brother? Grow the fuck up. Luca is an adult. This isn’t pre-school so I am pretty sure he can handle some insults and yelling in a tense situation.”

“What you called being yelled at, caused him so much pain that he has lost his human side which basically equals death for a werewolf”

But that however, seemed like a good reason for Vales behaviour.

Alex brain stopped for a moment. He took the words in. He repeated them again and again. He tried to make sense of them. He tried to connect them with a meaning in his head. Luca lost his human side? Because of him? Which could kill him?

Luca could die? Because of him?

He felt like he couldn’t breath as he understood it. Losing Luca? No. No, please not.

A shiver ran down his spin. Yes. He had cursed at Luca. He had wanted to throw him to hell. He wanted him to disappear so he never had to see him again and deal with whatever remained between them. He only wanted to hate him.

But that was when he thought that he had actively wanted to hurt his brother. Now he learned the truth. Now he knew that whatever he did wasn’t out of spite or hate or to actually bring harm to Marc. It didn’t made the situation easier. It made it worst actually but now he had to deal with it.

“Wait what?” he asked quietly and as he saw how the tension left Rossi’s shoulders, he realized he was just as exhausted as he was from worrying about his brother. Alex saw the hurt in Vale’s eyes the same way Vale saw the fear in Alex’s eyes. There was shock and fear and disbelieve.

“He has lost you” he said, anger still lingering in his voice. It sounded like an accusation. Like he had blood dripping from his hands. Like he was really responsible that Luca might be… Somehow… No longer here.

It sounded ridiculous. But so did the existence of werewolves. Or his brother getting healed in minutes from a fatal injury. So nothing sounded impossible to him right now. “And as much as I hate to admit it” he continued as Alex looked up again. ”Luca loves you. Desperately. You’re his soulmate and he lost you. That… It can drive a werewolf in insanity to lose their soulmate. And if a werewolf goes insane, there is no human left to be saved.”

Too much. There was too much information. And too less at the same time. There were too many worlds that hold too much meaning he didn’t understood. He wanted to ask 1000 question but he feared to hear the answer. He was scared to learn what it really meant.

“I don’t understand.”

Vale sighed. He looked at him. There was pain and pity in his gaze. He wasn’t sure for who it was.

“The pain of thinking he lost you” he explained. His voice sounded on edge. “for whatever reason or in whatever way, was so painful that his wolf took control” Alex wanted to scream and cry. Nothing made sense. This wasn’t right. It didn’t sound like Luca. A part of him was still yelling that Luca was human. But he knew he wasn’t. “Vale, you’re making no sense”

“We balance human and wolf side. But if something happens that’s dangerous, sad or enraging, we lose this balance. The side that can deal better with it, takes control. And sometimes – when the pain is really bad, we lose the connection to the other part of ourself”

He stepped closer. Anger returned to his eyes. All the explanation seemed to shake him up again. Alex swallowed hardly. Whatever followed wasn’t good.

“And whatever you said to him was enough to hurt him so much that his subconsciousness decided that he wasn’t able to deal with it as a human. He pushed him back and locked him out  his own had. So right now, my brother is a wolf, hiding somewhere in the woods and refuses to change back.”

“But he can just change back! Let human Luca take control again, push the wolf or whatever away!” he threw back. His mind refused to accept that he might lose Luca. It wasn’t on the table. He had to hold onto that. “He can’t!” Vale yelled back, his anger lurking through again. He stared at him with hate. His face twitched. He was losing control. He looked like a wild animal.

“I lost my brother. Don’t you understand? Are you such an asshole that you don’t understand?” He took a few steps towards him. “Luca is basically killing himself because of you! And what did he do?! Tell me what he did to deserve this? What did my baby brother – MY BROTHER – DO THAT HE DESERVES TO DIE?!”

Tears were shimmering in his eyes. They hit Alex like a tones of bricks. Vale was worried. He wasn’t angry at him. He didn’t hate him for being in a relationship with Luca. And this had nothing to do with Marc either. This was just about them. This was just an older brother worried that he might lose his younger brother, a boy he saw grow up since he was a baby.

It was a brother worrying for a brother.

Alex understood that. Especially after the last days. But now he was somehow responsible for that.

“I… I am sorry” he admitted. Because he was. He had no idea. This wasn’t meant to happen. He was angry but actually losing Luca? No. He refused to. “Oh fuck off. That wont bring my baby back.”

“Vale, that’s enough.” Dani said, taking back more control over the situation at the sight of a devastated Alex. He had seen enough. He had heard enough. Vale wasn’t himself anymore and he was just using the younger one to inflict emotional pain.

“What do you want him to do? Right now. What can we do to help Luca? There has to be a way. Surely you know how to get Luca back? Cause those accusation don’t help anyone”

“Oh they do. They so do… ” He stepped closer to Alex and whispered in a dangerous tone. “If my brother dies, I won’t kill you-“ “Vale shut up” Dani exclaimed. He was ready to punch the werewolf again. “No. Let me speak, Pedrosa or I’ll make sushi out of your husband”

He was being too serious not to take him serious. “So… Alex…” He turned back to him. Slowly. Like a predator, torturing his pray, knowing there was no escape. He took his time. Because he could.

“Like I said before I got so rudely interrupted… I won’t kill you. Don’t worry.” A grin, filled with hate spread over his face. “Instead I will make sure that you know exactly how I feel. I am going to make your life such a hell that you’re going to kill yourself. I will destroy everything and everyone you love-“

He knew he should hold back, but it just escaped his mouth. “You’re gonna kill Marc?” he asked anxiously.  “No… That’d be to painless. He will live – for now. Instead I will make him go insane. He will be the monster you saw in Luca but now in reality and it will be so much worse than anything you could imagine. I’ll make sure of that.”

Alex flinched. Going after his brother?

“You see… Marc once told me, back in 2014 that he would do anything to keep you safe. Really sweet actually… You’re very close. But the thing is… So are Luca and I. And I would also do anything to keep him safe. But I would also do anything to revenge him.”

Alex couldn’t breathe.

“If my brother goes insane, it seems like an appropriate payback to turn your brother into an actual monster. A real, feral werewolf with no ability to change back. Luca changed him, didn’t he? So he has not learn how to take control yet. So... No control. No holding back… He’d be a wild animal, still hurt from the change, angry and confused cause he’d have no idea what’s going on. Do you understand? All the primal urges and instincts would be there. But much more aggressive and no natural fear.”

The way he said it, made so much sense to Alex that he was sure he would cry. “How would you feel seeing him like that? Because of something you did?” Marc? Like that? No. No, he had to do something. He had to stop that. He had to prevent this.

“He wouldn’t even recognize you. All he’d see is a source of danger. He’d attack everything and everyone blindly. Even you… Maybe I even get him to kill you.” He laughed slightly and the insanity was written all over his face. He spoke slowly. There was no rush in his voice. Every word was a dagger that he used to slowly kill Alex.

“Oh imagine that… He changes back – And yes I can force that, very violent, very hurtful and harmful – and he’s all alone. He doesn’t understand what happened to him. Or where he is. But there is blood on his hands. He looks down and sees a familiar face – if you’re still recognizable that is. Maybe he doesn’t leave enough of you in one piece that even he’d be unable to recognize the boy he spent his whole life with…”

Not even Jorge was able to recognize Vale as he spoke like that. But it had never been about Luca.

“Marc would think he just killed a random person and he returns, searching for you only to slowly realize that you’re not coming back. Maybe he wonders if that stranger was closer to him than he though. Maybe he spends his whole life questioning if you were that poor soul whose life he ended that violently or if you ran away when you found out what your big brother has become.”

Dani just stood there frozen. There was nothing he could do to stop Vale, as it would endanger them even more to anger an emotionally hurt werewolf. He wanted to pull Alex away and prevent him from listing. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t save Alex and Vale still continued.

“Or he leaves your face more or less alone. You’re staring up at him as he looks down. Still looking up to the golden boy. Right? Older brothers… You kids always look up to them. But even in death? Would you still look up to him if he tears your heart out your chest? Would you forgive him? Cause it wouldn’t be his fault… Right?”

Poison. His words felt like poison.

“But now your body is laying to his feet, bleeding out. You’re completely covered in your own blood. Cold or warm? What would be worst? And the taste of  your flesh and blood would still be lingering in his mouth after he tore you apart. It probably would never leave him alone. He would spent the rest of his life knowing how his baby brother tastes… Tell me, Alex… What would do you think that would do to your beloved brother?” 

[buffyspeak]

Craig Manning + 1, 2, 12, 18 & 23

ty for recognizing this as an excuse to talk about craig manning lol

why do you like or dislike this character?

a lot of it comes down to the fact that i think he has one of the best, most memorable introductions in the show, and he has some of the best, most intentional writing from s2-s4. largely because jake epstein is one of their strongest actors and they really played into that. i like that they are able to make us immediately sympathize with him, and that the abuse he suffered very clearly affects him even once his dad is gone, but it also ever feels like the Only thing about him. i think they did really well at establishing a mix of like... earnest awkwardness with a certain charm that felt really natural. and i appreciate that even when i don't agree with his choices, they (usually - as i've established, i'm not really a fan of the way his addiction story is handled in s6) make logical sense for the character.

2. favorite canon thing about this character?

i appreciate that he was largely portrayed as a really good friend? obviously there were issues in his Other relationships (***), but i really appreciate how this trait softens some of the harsher/more complex aspects of his character (which i do also enjoy, but i think helps with balancing out his character and keeping him sympathetic and someone you want to root for.)

ANYWAY, some examples of Good Friend craig manning behavior: generally very supportive of ashley in dressed in black, helps emma find her dad in father figure, is supportive of marco and tries to help him with dylan problems in moonlight desires. i also think he's the friend we see visit jimmy most often in the hospital after he's shot.

ALSO i just remembered: it's a really small moment, but when jimmy doesn't want to hang at joey's with them in drive because he invited sean, who jimmy still has Tension with, i really like that craig is firm in saying he can't uninvite sean. it would be really easy for craig to like, choose jimmy, who is more a member of the Cool Kids, over sean, but i like that he doesn't just write sean off because that would be shitty, and it's clear he remembers sean really being there for him in when doves cry.

(** stuff with ellie gets complicated because i guess they are friends and i certainly do think he's in the wrong for stuff between them but they're really written as romantic interests that the writers are keeping apart for love triangle drama reasons.)

12. what's a headcanon you have for this character?

the first time joey openly speaks about a fond memory of julia, craig starts crying and has to excuse himself. he was Not allowed to just casually bring his deceased mother up in conversations at his father's house, it is Weird and hard for him, but not bad? he wants to talk about her. it's just surprising the first time. (yes i think daily about the scene where craig says something like "remember how mom used to make - " and then albert glares at him with an implicit threat until he shuts up what of it.)

18. how about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

i really admire the relationship between craig and marco. i feel like they could have really played up the, "oh, look, craig is another dude that's totally chill with gay people and isn't that so heroic and awesome of him" in a way that was decidedly NOT chill or cool. and i really appreciate that they didn't do that. it was always just... no big deal between them. obviously it was played for laughs, and understandably, craig reacted with confusion/annoyance, but even the fact that marco kissed him in moonlight desires and craig was just like "dude wtf go talk to your boyfriend" instead of getting into gay panic mode, i thought was nice.

they have some really cute/funny back and forth. as much as i hate the general plot in weddings, parties, anything, marco teasing craig when he bumps into a door after being distracted by a pretty girl who was flirting with him was comedy gold. and i giggle every time craig is like "good thing you aren't the lead in the school play... oh wait, you are, it IS all riding on you" lmao. icons, the both of them.

and they just have such an... overall easy friendship? like of course there are rocky patches, but i honestly believe that these people like each other in a way i don't always with other friendships in the show.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

this smile is so soft and wholesome i'm sorry. i want to wrap him in several blankets. i am normal about this character. (< me when i lie)

[syninplays]

Tested my silly mullet from today on him and LOOK AT MY BABY!! *screams in swedish*

[marigoldwriter]

FUCK WHY DID I SEE SPOILERS?!?!!?!

FUCK, WHY HE DIDN’T STAY DEAD!! HELL, HOW DID THIS DEMON MANAGE TO SURVIVE?!!?!?!?!?

BRO, MY BABY MARIKO NEVER DESERVED THIS, I SAID THE ANGST WAS GOING TO COME, I SAID, FUCK, I WANT TO CRY!!!

God, my little baby Mariko, she deserves the world, that bastard doesn't deserve to call my baby his wife, John should have killed him, I swear, he should, fuck what would happen next, fuck everything, he should have killed that one man, and he still comes to ask for forgiveness, FORGIVENESS?! HOLY FUCK I HATE IT!!

[blushinggoku]

Been watching some dbs related videos and I'm sosoo glad I gave up on that anime because oh my god the story gets worse with every arc. Wtf are they even doing anymore

[chaotictomtom]

WEIRD AL VOICE OOOOH IM IN HELL HELP HEEEELP IM IN HELL (Mike scene of him feeding the chicken while recovering and resting and then he gets the news about Gus and IT CUTS IMMEDIATELY TO HIM IN HIS CAR GOING EXTREMELY FAST AND AND AND :'(((((( )

[bunnyb34r]

Well I WAS sleeping peacefully (aside from a bug bite on my fucking knee somehow) but Gurkle decided that it was his job to give me a wakeup call and get my ass up to feed him 😑

[dulcewrites]

waitttttt are you insinuating that dil!alicent won't die from winter fever and will possibly get to meet alys, elysa and the little ones??? 🥹 in that case you just haveee toooo stick with elysa's baby girl being named after her grandma. eventual questioned legitimacy be damned, making Mother break a smile is more important! lmao. ohhh and i know you've said that aemond's genes won on all fronts but i kinda like the idea of her inheriting elysa's brown eyes which would then liken her to alicent even more :") maybe in some au or something

I do want to inculde something with Alicent and everything with the war while the girlies are in the riverlands. I’d have to workout timing/logistics (larys might have to be involved I fear) but yes I think Alicent should know she has more grandbabies especially considering what happens to the others :(. Also it would be nice to have 3 of Aemond’s 4 fav ladies together.

awe yeah I love the idea of little girl with curly silver hair and big brown eyes named Alicent.

[bunni-bun]

love seeing everyone watching see your love now and finding nat's parts and going "BOSS CHEN YI??!??!!" in the tags, it's filling me with life and joy 😂

[snowwhitedraws]

ex lovers oshamir au...one where they had a bad falling out but decided to part ways in peace...fast forward 3 years later and qimir still hasn't moved on...he still can't...assuming that osha is the same as him...he decides to go back and connect...but I guess luck is not on his side because is already married for 2 years.

[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

----

idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

[no-144444]

the grid: No Nut November!

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Arthur LeClerc.

thank you to the person that requested this!!!

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Oscar Piastri: wouldn’t do it. 

Even if every driver on the grid was offering 1,000€ each as a prize, he was not giving up fucking you for an entire month. 

Even though he looks like a sweetie pie he would absolutely be a freak in the sheets and he was not about to give up the only way he actually gets his frustration out (aka fucking you). 

Everyone kind of boos him for it but then half way through the month he gets to be smug while they’re all miserable and complaining, because he can fuck his girlfriend whenever he wants. 

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Lando Norris: would try, but definitely fail. 

He wouldn’t care about the prize, he’d just have such a ‘how hard can it be?’ attitude. 

Newsflash: extremely. 

You would not make it easy for him either; wearing the sluttiest clothes, basically giving him fuck me eyes all the time, enjoying it when you see him get hot and bothered. 

He snaps on his birthday, and fucks you for hours straight. You can barely walk the next day. 

He decides to own up and pay his part of the bet with no shame, he has a hot girlfriend and he likes fucking her, sue him! 

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Lewis Hamilton: wouldn’t even try

He’s uninterested in the things most of the grid do in their spare time, and he knows they’re uninterested in him too. They don't need to know about his sex life, but what people can guess is that it is very much alive. 

I mean… you two had a baby literally 8 months after your wedding, to the day. 

The other 3 kids don't exactly help his case… 

He’d say yes, just so he could be added to the group chat and he would tell you who is winning and losing.

He’d lose on the first day with no shame. Everyone knows he's just here for the public shaming of others. 

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George Russell: would win

Not saying he’s not a freak in the sheets, but he would set up the entire thing (group chat, the money pool, etc.) and he cannot be seen lacking. 

Even if it wasn’t his idea, he still needed to win. 

You do make the entire month absolute torture though. 

Matching sets, showing as much skin as possible, everything. 

Even walking around the apartment naked. 

But somehow, he doesn’t budge. 

At the end of the month he does fuck you for ages, and you literally cant get out of bed, let alone follow him to a race. He tells the media you’re sick and all of the drivers have the dirtiest laughs as he explains. Despite every question, they keep their mouths shut. 

George did announce that he won at the end, much to your chagrin. 

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Alex Albon: he’d last a while

 He would honestly be pretty good. 

He kind of breaks the rules, he constantly gives you oral and jerking himself off, but it wasn’t specifically stated in the rules (apart from the name… but whatever)

He makes it like halfway through the month until a particularly bad race result. 

He fucks you all night. 

When you both get to the paddock in the morning, George pays him a visit to collect the money like the smug bastard he is. 

He heard you two last night. 

He was 4 doors down. 

Oops. 

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Franco Colapinto: he’s the one who accidentally tells the press. 

We all know Franco is awful at keeping his mouth shut, and in an interview he somehow lets it slip that he needed to find George to give him money. 

They ask him what for. 

He says ‘the bet’ and explains that they’re doing NNN this year and that he lost. 

It was worth it though, you two hadn’t seen each other in months (you were busy in uni, he was busy at races) and he just had to have you. 

He made it like a quarter of the way into the month. 

He didn't really care. 

The drivers honestly just found it funny that he told the media. 

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Logan Sargeant: would make it most of the way, but just fall short by like 4 days.

He had done so well, ignoring all of your sexual advances for the majority of the month…

Then he got drunk. 

Drunk Logan and drunk you? Yeah, you’re fucking. 

He couldn’t keep his hands off you, and he paid the price. 

He paid up sheepishly the next day, George looked at him with the smuggest smile ever. 

Logan didn’t even care. He fucked you twice as much as before. 

He has to make up for lost time, right? 

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Daniel Riccardo: he would lose immediately.

This man is a 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 

He would kind of do the same thing as Lewis, pay to just watch the rest of them loose. 

He does last a little bit longer though (in their eyes).

 He doesn’t pay up until the second week even though he’s been fucking you the entire time. 

He has absolutely no shame about it either. 

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Liam Lawson: he would almost win.

He's such a cutie. I think he’d somehow abstain for a while. 

He’d get to around the 26th, and then give up. 

The month was torture though. 

You literally would beg him every night, and he would just have to say no. 

You were impressed at how long he lasted. 

But then he gave in after he scored points in mexico...

Yuki ratted him out to George, he was very embarrassed.

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Charles LeClerc: he would lose immediately.

Charles is an idiot. 

He would lose the first day by accident, and then try to pretend that it doesn't count until George actually comes knocking on his drivers room door looking for the money. 

He heard you, of course. 

Charles reluctantly watches the rest of the month play out, bitter that his own forgetfulness took him out so early. 

He vows to win next year. 

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Carlos Sainz: wouldn’t do it. 

He’s not giving up fucking you for a month. No way. 

He also wouldn’t be interested in the sex lives of others enough to even pay into it like Lewis. 

His sex life is his own, and as much as he loves healthy competition, this is a race he’s happy to lose. 

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Max Verstappen: would be a huge bitch all month.

Dude is like a moody teenager when he’s not getting it. 

Daniel persuades him to do it and he makes it a few days in.

Literally turns into the biggest moody bitch ever.

By the 8th day everyone is begging you to just fuck him so he’ll stop being such a cunt to them.

You do. 

He pays up and spends the rest of the month fucking you. 

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Paul Aron: he would almost win.

He would last pretty long. Like maybe more than half the month

Despite his playboy facade, he’s actually more into cuddles and shit like that. 

 But after a bad race…

Yeah, he pays up with zero shame. 

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Arthur LeClerc: he would lose, in two ways. 

Y’know how quickly Charles lost, yeah he’d be worse.

He wouldn’t forget, he’d just think that he can get away with fucking you all month but of course, that doesn’t happen.

George comes knocking after Charles tells him he can hear you two.

You are deeply embarrassed that your boyfriend's brother heard you two having sex, and you impose a ban for the rest of the month. 

You say it’ll help you both be more aware of when and where you’re doing it, and how to not get caught by his brother again. 

He curses out his brother the next time he sees him.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[konigsblog]

How Simon Riley treats his petite!girlfriend. (🌽 link)

Simon Riley can be sweet in bed. He can be gentle and careful with such a beautiful and fragile thing like yourself, or he can be violent and brutal, becoming an unforgiving and merciless bastard who doesn't care whether you're in pain or not, only if he's being stimulated.

Simon manhandles your body into a position that he's satisfied with, that puts you at a disadvantage. You squirm and wriggle against his firm, tight grasp and whine out breathlessly as Simon begins to hump his swollen, leaking cock over your glossy folds, pushing your knees to your chest to gaze upon your naked, bare body. “So fuckin’ small.” Simon curses as he slaps the head of his wet, hard dick against your clit teasingly, admiring how far he'll be inside of you. He grins thinking about how he'll destroy you, leave you whimpering days afterwards at the ache when you sit down.

“Quit cryin’ ‘nd take this cock, dove...” Simon pins your hands to your sides as he leans his bodyweight down onto your body. Your breathing becomes heavy and deep at the sudden pressure against your chest, while Simon quickly begins rutting into you at the given opportunity and the sight of your weakness. “That’s it, darlin’. You know you like it.” Each thrust sends shivers down your spine, unable to focus on anything aside from the pulsing and stretching sensation of your cunny. You suck in a sharp breath and breathe in his familiar, spicy cologne. The only thing you can do is lay there and take it, the way Simon desires.

“So tiny and warm, ain’t‘cha? That greedy pussy takes everything.” You pant like a horny dog, your thighs twitching and your walls pulsating around his veiny shaft. Simon is driven off by the sounds of your moans and the greedy, needy expression plastered on your face, how your sweet pussy is used repetitively despite your glistening eyes. “Holy fuck- ’m nearly there, love.” It's addictive, you couldn't blame Simon for being obsessed and infatuated with fucking your cunt. His heavy and full balls smack against your ass as leans his weight down onto you to pin you down against the mattress, watching as you choke on your words at the pleasing sensation that leaves you dumbfounded.

“There we go- every single fuckin’ droplet, baby.” Simon heaves and growls, throwing his head backwards at the tight feeling of your hole. Your cunny pulses uncontrollably as you're filled with strings of his creamy, milky semen. Your back arches off of the mattress and your pussy drools, swelling with arousal, until you're nothing but an eager, cock dumb whore for Simon to gaze upon and taunt.

[suiana]

✎ yandere! criminal who is helplessly in love with you, devoting his life to you and keeping your affections solely on him, and him only.

✎ yandere! criminal who can't help but flirt with you despite being so beaten up. i mean you're just so cute! why wouldn't he flirt?

✎ yandere! criminal who always reminds you that he has the upperhand no matter what his condition is like. he likes playing dirty.

✎ yandere! criminal who commits even more crimes after seeing you talk with someone who isn't him. doctor, you just never learn, do you?

"remember doctor, you may be smarter, but i always have the upperhand."

the criminal mutters, smirking as he leans into your touch. you merely click your tongue, grimacing at the his antics before going back to tending to his injuries.

you were his doctor, illegally caring for one of the most wanted criminals in the country simply because he was once your childhood friend. you knew it was wrong, you knew you should have rejected him the second he came stumbling to your apartment one day with a bloody wound.

but you didn't. you took him in and treated his injury, nursed him back to health and even offered your place as refuge if he ever needed medical attention again.

unfortunately, you failed to realise that the man was crazy in love with you, infatuated to such an extent that he would harm others without a second thought.

"please, you must understand, i've only ever wanted you to love me and not some other bastard. if you didn't talk to him i wouldn't have needed to hurt that guy."

he mutters, looking at you with such a fond expression that you would've mistaken for love. you really didn't know how to respond to his affections. after all, he was your childhood friend turned criminal. things would be even worse for you if you reciprocated him.

so you did the best thing possible and just ignored him whenever he went off on another tangent of his delusional rambles. you daren't speak up and reject him again. oh no, it happened once and you didn't want it to happen again.

"you look so sexy when you ignore me."

the criminal coos, placing his hand over yours as he brings it to his cheek. you uncomfortably maintain eye contact with him, grimacing as you allow him to mutter and talk about his love. it's okay... just tolerate it...

"oh baby, don't you get it? everything i do is for you."

yeah, you know. he tells you all the time. bout how all his crimes are dedicated for you or done in your name. of course he never says it to the public, he doesn't want you to get jailed! though, he can't help but fantasize about how romantic it would be if you two were both wanted criminals on the run together.

"why must you torment me like this? all i've ever wanted was for you to love me back."

he sighs, not noticing your pursed lips or obvious discomfort.

"never smile for anyone else. only i should have the honour of seeing it. all those other fools will never worship you the way you should be worshipped."

you can't help but twitch at his words. ugh, he always preaches about worshipping you and stuff. it's so... is he mentally insane too?

you get the love part, but the worshipping? you won't be surprised if he prays to you when he's on the brink of his death.

"no one gets me like you. that's why i love you so much."

your childhood friend mutters, finally letting go of your hand after pressing a tender kiss to the inside of your wrist. you allow your hand to limp by your side, standing like an npc as you continue to stare at him as he continues his dramatic talk.

you never knew he yapped so much before. when he was younger he was more introverted, more silent and just clingy. now he can't shut up. or maybe that's just around you.

you continue to listen to the male yapping, not really processing his words. hopefully it'll be over soon... but your hopes were crushed as you freeze in place, eyes widening in horror as he smiles widely at you, eyes fully deranged as he suddenly brings your hands to his cheeks, forcing your cold hands to cradle his cheeks.

"i mean, don't you love me too?"

shit, how do you answer this without meeting a bad fate?

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES ━━ satoru gojo + breeding !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. satoru gojo + breeding. thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown… (5.2K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, royalty!au, enemies to lovers (?), forbidden romance, infidelity and cheating, spit kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, breast play, agoraphilia, baby trapping, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected sex, princess + fem!reader, lord!satoru gojo.

୨୧ — director’s note. woo happy spooky season my loves. welcome back to another tteokdoroki kinktober! im excited for you to see whats in store this year, hope you enjoy this fic to start off mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

you have thirty days to get married.

being from a small town, somewhere that’s not even on the map — you never expected your family name to carry much meaning aside from the one you carved out for yourself. let alone expect your name to come from royalty.

if you thought discovering how to be a teenager at sixteen was hard, then try discovering how to be a princess at sixteen on for size. everything you’ve ever done since finding out you were royalty has been for your family. you’ve kept your head down, out of the spotlight aside for the occasional appearance and charitable events. you’ve studied hard, double-majoring in international relations alongside political science and diplomacy. 

you’ve prepared yourself thoroughly enough to feel ready to take the mantle of queen — especially with your grandmother planning to step down. all of your accomplishments have been leading up to this very moment — it’s so close that you can practically feel the weight of the crown on your head. 

except there’s one itty, bitty, little problem.

you still have to get married in thirty days. otherwise, your family title will be poached from right beneath your nose.

satoru gojo (aka public enemy number one) is the nephew of a member of parliament who just so conveniently knows genovian law better than your grandmother does. since satoru came of age before you did, and he’s lived in genovia for longer than you have, and has some random distant relative in connection to the first king — the men of parliament have decided that he too is in line for the throne. 

especially if you, the princess, do not marry before your coronation. 

how ridiculous is that? 

and not only is this satoru gojo an evil, conniving, crown-stealing bastard. but he’s charming, a silver tongue wrapped around each and every one of his words. charming, like a prince (blegh) he’s also stupidly attractive. with deep sapphire blue eyes that are gorgeous enough to make the crown jewellers weak in the knees and a smile so sweet it feels like a sugar rush whenever he looks at you. there’s something so unique about the frostiness to his soft white hair, matching his unfairly long lashes — the ones you know girls back home would kill for. 

it angers you to know that you’d been dancing with your rival at your welcome ball, pains you to know that you’ll never forget his slender fingers splayed out against the small of your back to guide your every movement. if you had been back in college (and had a few litres of hard liquor in your system), perhaps gojo would have been the type of guy you’d have snuck into the dorms for a night of fun and an NDA in the morning — your secret signed away from the paparazzi’s keen eyes. 

alas, these are very different circumstances and there’s a lot riding on you being sensible about the situation. yet, satoru proves himself to be a problem every chance that he gets — cornering you in closets with his breath hot against your ear, trapping you against the walls while the ghost of his touch feels like heaven against your skin… on the staircase too, insistent on reminding you of the passionate dance you once shared.

all while you’re set to marry the duke of another country so you can keep your fucking crown (pardon the language, your highness).

suguru geto would be the perfect king consort if you managed not to mess this up. he is warm, where satoru is a flip between disastrously hot and frustratingly cold. he balances you out, a mellowness to your clumsiness whilst understanding your need for a rushed proposal and wedding. raised a gentleman, suguru is mindful of you in every action he takes. he doesn’t stare too long but smiles when you think he’s not looking and he’s a wonder with your grandmother — the parents, too. his family gem (a serpentine, making you feel much like a snake) sits heavy on your ring finger, dazzling under camera flashes at your engagement dinner…. and he recognises duty and honour above anything else too. 

if satoru is your enemy, then guilt is your friend. no matter what either of the men in your life do, you find yourself comparing their every move. when you’re with suguru your mind is away chasing the fairies, imagining the touch of another man who sets your heart alight in a cool blaze — like gasoline trickling through your veins waiting for its candle match. when you’re with satoru, all you can think about is how wrong this is. how geto doesn’t deserve this. but you’re an addict without a cure, and your drug is satoru gojo and you don’t see yourself ever  quitting him.

you're in desperate need of a wake up call and a nicotine patch, the cocky yet lecherous air about him almost acting like a smog in your healthy and capable lungs. sometimes through the fog, you wonder if satoru knows how much he weighs heavy on your mind— though if he did, you’d never hear the end of it. 

the current queen tells you not to worry about the white haired man that’s slowly freezing over the four chambers of your heart. you tell yourself that suguru geto is the only man that you need, one that could help you rule and create a beautiful and better kingdom for many years to come. geto tells you that he loves you, that he can’t wait to marry you in two or three weeks time and you respond with equal (yet, faux) excitement.

perhaps that’s why you find yourself sneaking away from this respectful, loving man to be with the one trying to ruin your life?

why are you following satoru gojo deep into the royal gardens, where the rose bushes are the only witness to your sick and twisted sins?

your back hits the jagged pattern of tree bark before your brain can catch up — causing a little wet whimper to bubble up on your pinky-peach tainted lips. the flutter of pain just beneath your skin only lasts for a second before it’s replaced by the sensation of satoru’s fingers traversing up the dips and curves of your body. he soothes you where it hurts the most, rough fingertips leaving bruising marks made with affection along your thighs and small of your back while he swallows your sweet gasps — licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to taste you. 

“you’re not even…” his words spill into you, adding fuel to the spark of lust beginning to form a pit in your stomach. “you’re not even attracted to him,” he spews, surging forward like a storm knocking on your door to press his greedy spit slicked lips to yours. his tongue, syrupy and wet, intertwined with your own, filling you up and giving you something to suck on. 

before you can even think of kissing your rival back, he retreats and takes his swollen lips with him — latching onto your neck and weaponizing his teeth against it. you gasp, your angel’s song tipping out into the rose garden while your fingers tangle in silver-moon locks and let him work against you, claiming you just below the neckline of your dress where no one will be able to see. 

except for maybe your fiancé and only god knows how you’ll be able to explain the marks to him tonight. ‘oh you know me, suguru. i’m way too clumsy for my own good.’ you’ll say, all while thinking about how the man after your crown blew your back out at your engagement party. 

you know why satoru’s acting such a fool — taking risks that he wouldn’t normally. the dress you’re wearing, the colour of his eyes, drives him fucking insane. you can’t say that you didn’t ask for this, like it wasn’t on purpose. 

“can’t fucking stand you,” gojo groans against your skin, nose pressed to your collarbone as he inhales the candied notes of your perfume. “been giving me those angel eyes all day. knowing that i can’t take my fucking eyes off of you when you wear that colour, princess.” 

he’s insufferable, but here you find yourself at the mercy of his touch — offering up your body to satoru gojo like a sacrificial lamb as your back arches away from the tree and presses your chest into his eager strawberry tongue. it leaves a slimy track over your neck and dips between the cleavage of your dress while gojo makes his descent down to hell — tasting the shimmering crystals of salt on your skin. 

satoru gojo belongs on his knees. 

kneeling before you with the royal blue tule of your dress between his shaking hands. you can tell he’s trying not to rip it off of you. born to worship you.  mirth weighs down his lashes and desire dances between the navy blue flecks in his sapphire eyes — he needs you so bad it might kill him. from this position he can practically smell how turned on you are, he’d recognise the mouth-watering aroma of your drooling cunt anywhere, slick gathering in the crotch of your barely there panties. 

there’s a depraved, royal treasure hidden between the string of fabric that runs between your juicy pussy lips — swollen and waiting to be devoured by your enemy. not that you’d ever admit that to him. “i think you should be referring to me as your queen.” you manage between ragged breaths, satoru eyeing the way your chest heaves from beneath the bust of your dress. 

instead of responding, his head unceremoniously dips beneath your skirts and he drags a thigh over the width of his broad shoulders. “watch your mouth,” the lord purrs salaciously as he licks up your inner thigh, the vibrations shooting straight to your swollen clit. “let’s remind you of who’s really in charge.” the both of you feel it, the aching throb of your pussy against gojo’s lips as he wedges his face right between your thighs. you can’t help but grind against him in wanton, desperate to be filled up with fingers, tongue whatever your sworn enemy has to offer up to the crown. 

but your warmth and wetness does nothing to coax satoru into tongue fucking his way past your clenching, creaming entrance. rather, he draws his head back just a touch and rubs at your cunt like he loves you, dips his fingers just into your quivering hole and then — smack !

juices run down satoru’s arms as if he’s taken a bite into the fruit that tempted eve while he laughs in awe of just how fucking sloppy you are between your thighs. the spank to your puffy folds makes you jolt in surprise, causing you to scratch your back against the jagged tree bark. 

“gojo!” you squeak in warning as your thighs close around his veiny hand. 

he sticks his tongue into his cheek, smirking in amusement before prying your shaky legs apart. “that’s not quite right, try again for me, princess...” gojo repeats the process, running between your slick folds and spanking you against them when you fail to respond. “you know my name, baby. c’mon it’s easy, i’ll even say it with you. d…d…” 

you refuse to stoop so low, to let demeaning words escape from underneath your tongue but not having satoru’s mouth on you is like torture — just his breath against your cunt is akin to dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse. you know what that pleasure is like, you crave it and you’re not above begging no matter how royal you may be. 

“f-fuck, daddy!” you whinge defiantly, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against the tree. satoru wastes no more time then, slotting his hot mouth against the entire length of your silken slit. the first thing he does is moan, the vibrations shooting twinges of ecstasy from your clit through the rest of your body and even reaching your head — making the world around you spin. 

the tip of his tongue teases its way past your entrance, squirming around to brush up against pleasure spots your little fingers can’t even reach. “that’s right princess, knew you could do it. you’re not just some stuck up little girl.” the white haired lord praises, drawing back from your quivering hole — connected to you by a string of your glistening slick. 

“shut up, just… put your mouth to good use.” you grunt, your hips canterint down onto gojo’s face to keep him quiet. your fingers take root in his silvery moon locks, dragging the man and his pink tongue onto your sex once more. gojo takes the hint, making your cute little clit his next victim as he rolls it between perfect rows of pearly whites and sends your eyes into the dark depths of your skull. 

the sinful and salacious sensation provides a welcomed distraction from your responsibilities as the crown princess. if your grandmother could see you now, you know that all she’d feel is disappointment— especially if she knew her granddaughter was fucking the biggest threat to the crown. and suguru, your poor fiancé — he was probably stuck mingling with guests he didn’t even know, looking for your eyes in the crowd like he always did. 

shame should be burning through your veins, not the white hot trickle of desire that you’re filled with as satoru slurps your juices from between your fat pussy lips. the needy groans he lets out against you inch down your spine, drown you in stormy waves of lust and you find yourself addicted to the bob of gojo’s head from underneath your tule skirts. you’re just so wet, pouring the royal family’s riches, liquid gold straight into the man’s greedy mouth as he drinks you in.

your nectar glazes his cheeks and chin in a devilish shine, brighter than the crown set to sit atop your head — his mouth barely parts from your ravaged and swollen romping as if he’s married to eating you out, tongue licking you up and down before your juices even have a chance to drip to the ground. you can only imagine what would happen if the press found out, your life would be over and so would satoru’s. but you don’t care, because every second that gojo spends between your thighs dragging you to orgasm is worth it. every single time. 

he grips at your ass, pulling you back onto his tongue as it flickers in and out of you. the whole ordeal is disgusting and delightful and you never want it to end. pleasure mounts high within you, evident in the shakiness of your gripes and grouses, lust laden in its tune. 

“s-satoru…satoru. i’m gonna… g’na fuckin’ cum!” a high pitch squeal tears in your throat like music to gojo’s ears — now working relentlessly to get you off just like you need. he doesn’t care if he’s suffocating, at least he’ll die a happy man between the thighs of a princess. 

he chuckles against your sex. “such a dirty mouth for such a proper lady.” the lord says as if he’s a scolding you.

but you can barely hear him, for static rings in your ears as your body loses the war to your orgasm. your release bubbles up on his tongue like the fresh pop of champagne, while your brain fizzles and clears itself of all logical thought. guilt is replaced by bouts of lust, making you realise that this cycle of avoiding and fucking gojo will never end. you’re too addicted to him and he’s too obsessed with you, as long as things remain that way — sex with him will always be on the agenda. 

you can’t promise yourself, your grandmother or suguru that this will be the last time. 

dopamine dances across gojo’s brain as he drinks in the tangy-honey flavour of your release, letting it splatter against his puffy lips as they encircle your clit to prolong your orgasm. you gush as if you’re a rushing erotic river, spilling into satoru’s earnest mouth while he licks you clean with wanton.

“look at that… oh look at you. cumming for me already.” 

“f-fuck you.”

“fuck me?” he smirks, making your gut lurch with wanton. “fuck you. i’m the one that’s working on it, princess.” satoru slowly rises to his feet, licking a nasty spit-slicked trail from your hole to the cleavage peeking out from underneath your dress. he doesn’t even stand to his full height, his large frame towering over you as he yanks down the front of your dress to lick and suck and play with your breasts until you can’t tell what’s up or down anymore.

his perfect teeth graze a pert nipple which makes you gasp and cry, loosely looping your arms around satoru’s neck while his ravaging mouth works your sensitive breasts, even going as far to swipe his tongue over the spot where each one meets your ribcage. he doesn’t leave any marks, you’re not his to keep. large and rough hands replace the warmth of his mouth on you to toy with your mounds of flesh — pinching and pulling as satoru kisses you senseless. you groan at the taste of your slick on his tongue and salt of your skin as well, tugging him closer so that there’s no space between your heated bodies. 

“don’t cry,” satoru comments softly against your swollen, cherry-bitten lips — cupping your face between his fingers. blinking slowly, you allow your frenzied brain the chance to catch up to reality  and you don’t realise the tears that wet your cheeks until he points them out. why are you even crying? “you’re too pretty for that.” his compliments do nothing to clear the lustful, confused fog settling over your mind like a dark cloud so you follow your body’s instincts and reach for the metal clasp on his belt. 

nimble fingers make their way down the front of gojo’s dress pants and he hisses at the quick pumps of his perfectly hard cock before you’re dragging up your skirts and guiding him towards your entrance. “baby, wait—“

you push his pants down enough to let his erection spring free, pulsing with need and standing at full mast against the cotton blouse covering his tummy. “i need you.” you sniff, dropping your panties to your ankles. “please.” 

the thing about sex with satoru is that it never feels like just sex. he tenderly hikes the meat of your thigh over his slender hips, lets his dribbly, sticky cockhead twitch forward and ease past the salaciously slick barriers of your empty hole, and presses your bodies so close together that you think you might forget how to breathe. satoru makes love to you each and every time — and it’s terrible. 

like eating too much sugar or indulging in a bad smoking habit. you’re not supposed to be in love with him and the way he fucks up into you, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis even with all of the fabric in the way. “don’t cry for him, f-fuck,” the both of you look down, your pupils dilating at the sight of your pussy swallowing his lengthy shaft whole — catching on the ridges of each blue vein spiralling around him. “cry for me, princess. i’m the one that’s ruining you.” 

with his forehead pressed to yours, silver hair matted down by the line of perspiration against it — satoru braces a hand against the tree above your head and sets stream to his passionate thrusts, fluid like water under a bridge. it’s not fair, how wrong this is and how good it feels to have gojo lick over the parts of you he would bite down on if you were his. your pulse point, your neck, the spot just under your ear that’s way too sensitive for your own good. it should be suguru fucking you like this, your fiancé. 

yet, there’s no room for self-loathing and despair between the rough tree and satoru gojo above you. nothing aside for the thick curtain of lust that protects you from prying eyes in the rose garden, floral scents twisting with the raw, aphrodisiac-like smell of sex and sweat while he pounds away at your swollen pussy, grinding his cock wetly against the sweet spots dotted along your ribbed walls. 

“i should put a baby in you,” he says suddenly, just barely audible over the wet pap, pap, pap of your sexes working together. embarrassment burns bright under the surface of your cheeks because you’re that wet and it’s that loud, the remainders of your previous orgasm making it easier for satoru’s cock to glide in and out of you. “leave you with a little gift. a present — reminder of our time together, yeah?” he knows that he’s not making any sense, leaving his confession behind sex and sultry words. he would never admit to how much he loves you, he’s already ruined you enough. he’s already taken more than enough from you too. “i’ll get to the crown either fuckin’ way.” 

satoru talks with his dick and you fucking like it, squeezing the damn daylights out of him. he can barely pull back with you locked down on like that, his seedy tip snug between your ruined folds — clinging into him by viscous ropes of your last orgasm and freshly formed globs of his white hot precum. “you like that, don’t you princess?” he coos down to you condescendingly, picking up the pace of his hips as he rams into you mercilessly. the tree shakes from the force, sprinkling pretty and innocent petals over you both. “you wanna make me a daddy? my queen? give me a little prince or princess.”

“fuck yes, satoru!” nodding your head with wanton, you press yourself into his neck and squeeze him close by the ass cheeks so the only place your lover can go is deeper. you want to be able to feel him in your guts, hot in your womb like an iron rod — anything to forget the trickle of betrayal filling you up like a glass of wine. “i want it, i want it…i want—“

you cut yourself of with an abrasive sob, as you moan your agreements. i want you. you feel the words on the tip of your tongue, drowned out by the slippery sounds of sex and creaking tree trunk. you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you’ve wanted satoru gojo.

but he’s the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

“i know you do, i know,” you can feel gojo move to slobber over your chest, pacifying his whistle tone whimpers with your nipples bouncing in his mouth. he looks up at you with vacant cerulean eyes that shimmer like the skies above, the crude mix of your arousals slinging at the point at which your bodies join. “tell me how much you love daddy’s cock, princess.” 

he goads because he craves your attention. satoru can feel you slipping from between his fingers, the guilt that rolls off of you in waves as he languidly rams into your cunt. he’s asking a lot of someone who’s too stimulated, too fucked out to speak — your tongue barely staying in your mouth. 

“sato—!”

“c’mon… answer me, fuck, there we go.”

that’s when he hikes you up in his arms, lifting you a little to feverishly thrust up into you — dragging you closer to another high. your nails dig deep into his taut ass, nudging his dick against your g-spot. suguru would never be this rough with you, would never want to fuck you so good that the pleasure hurts.

shaking your head, your eyes glisten but the denial doesn’t stop small streams of arousal from squirting out and webbing against gojo’s soft pubes. “i-i can’t! i don’t—“ satoru bites down on your nipple, hard, cutting through your train of blurry thought. “i love…h-him!” 

you love your fiancé, but you both know that’s a lie.

“yeah, sure you do. that’s why your pussy’s huggin’ my cock so tight. you don’t wanna let me go, baby.” even while he’s a mess for you, your rival still finds it in him to be such an egotistical prick. you can’t even tell him that he’s wrong, because you never ever want to be without satoru, without this immensely overwhelming feeling of ecstasy fluttering through your entire body. it’s all too much, he’s too much, stretching you wide and filling you with the love (and cum) you should be getting from suguru. 

thunder cracks above your head, lightning flashes through the trees as if the higher power up above is bearing witness — growing distraught at your sins. it’s not long before the heavens open up on you both and your sweaty, sex slicked bodies are doused in rain. but it doesn’t stop you, doesn’t stop satoru from dragging down your bottom lip to lovingly spit into your mouth. 

he kisses you as if it’s not enough, rocking his hips into you so he can bully your insides and mark them with his pre. “bet he’s lookin’ for you right now, hm? his precious wife to be…drenched in my cum ‘n drenched in the rain.” satoru heaves, letting the patter of the rain drown out the sound of his tightening balls slapping against your ass. “bet he wishes he could fuck you like i do.” 

you can’t tell if it’s the tears of guilt and longing or the rain that blurs your vision. “h-he doesn’t get to!” you cry like a dirty porn-star, hardly becoming of a soon to be queen. “o-only you!” 

“only me, hm? i’m flattered.” he seems elated, hiding his flushed face and happy smile in the junction between your neck and shoulder. his wet hair tickles your skin. “too bad he doesn’t know his princess comes used and abused between her pretty legs, huh?”

the rain is cold against your skin, seeping through your clothes, ruining your makeup — but the way satoru licks up your hot streaky tears and the droplets of water against your skin as if to sooth you… the way he does it fills you with warmth. 

your limbs become heavy from your water-logged clothes and exhaustion, your whole body slumped against satoru’s strength but you still manage to rake your nails down his back as if you can’t be any closer. gojo doesn’t let your hips run from his either.  his mind races, stuck on the idea of asking you to run away with him because he can’t just let you go back to geto. not again. 

he can’t let you marry someone you’re not in love with. 

it would be selfish of him to ask you to stay, even when you wrap your legs around him and have him plug up your tiny little hole with sticky white. he sees it in your eyes how much you care for him, even through the rain. he’s ruining you, from the inside out, knocking the crown from your head and he hates it.

“daddy loves this pussy,” he wishes for the moment to last forever, but you’re already so close — crying from every hole, suffocating his throbbing cock. neither of you can hold back. “he loves you. i love you.”

the confession nearly tears your world in two — but it’s all you need to hear before everything comes crashing down on you. “i-i love you!” you tell him, wailing the words loud and proud as you release on him for a second time, gushing obscene amounts against gojo’s tummy smooshed up on your clit. “sato—! satoru! cum with me, cum inside me!” scratching down his back and screwing your eyes shut, you tilt your head up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. 

the taste of salt on your cupid’s bow throws gojo over the edge too — his cockhead pours viscous white directly into your womb. “fuuuck, you’re so good princess…” and even though you know you should tell him to pull out, you don’t want him too. you want his baby, want his cum, want him always. even if that’s greedy of you.“fuckin’ take it…take all of me. all of that cum’s for you.” he slurs, beyond brainless.

lewd clapping noises echo between your bodies like the thunder up above as satoru fucks you through the rest of your highs, nose nudging your cheeks tenderly to soothe your tears. moaning, and crying against one another’s swollen lip. when his slow grinds come to a stop and your breathing recovers, the white haired lord gently sets you back in the ground — tenderly helping you to fix your drenched clothes back into place. 

your thighs are completely bruised and his back is completely torn up. the last marks you’ll ever leave with each other.

“so about—“

“we… we can’t do this anymore, satoru.” you say almost immediately, shaky as if you’re in the verge of panic. 

for the first time since you started doing this, sneaking off with one another, gojo notices the glint  on your ring finger. and you feel the very same weight of that ring. 

he shrugs you off, pulling up his pants and smirking. “that’s what you said last time—

“no satoru, i mean it now. we can’t.” it’s like you’ve come to your senses, realised the gravity of it all and what’s at stake. thirty days to get married, thirty days to become queen. “i’m going to become queen, your queen, in a matter of weeks and to do that i need to be married to him. i can’t mess this up. we have to stop.”

“but you don’t even want him,” he growls like a petulant child, roaring above the rain that cascades down on you both. “you want me. i want you. who gives a fuck about anything else?”

“duty gives a fuck! i have to marry him!”

throwing his hands up in defeat, satoru steps towards you, loud and intimidating, and you step back towards the tree. “you can’t even say his fucking name.” 

“his name is suguru geto and i will marry him because you forced me to.” you spit, going toe to toe with him — chest heaving but tight from your heart break. “if you and your stupid higher ups had just stayed out my way. maybe there could have been a chance for us. but they didn’t and here we are and duty freaking calls, gojo.” 

you storm off shortly after, be before he can see you cry again (for real this time). from his place hidden in the royal gardens, gojo watches sullenly as you approach your grandmother and fiancé — the elder queen disappointed in your current state and suguru clearly worried that the rain might make you catch a cold. 

the perfect alibi to cover up the fact that you’d just fucked satoru gojo. 

but the entire time, you never look back. 

you don’t even look at gojo — and  that’s how he knows you meant it. you always look back, always look for him in the crowd. 

the knowledge hits him like a strike of lightning. he’s royally fucked up — you’re marrying for the crown, all because of him. and there’s no room for loving when you’ve got the weight of the nation on your shoulders.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Tommy.

He came out looking exactly like his father. He acted exactly like him. He didn’t sleep, he had nightmares too often, he loved watching telly, he wouldn’t sleep without you near him, and so much more. 

While you make lunch, Simon sits on the couch with Tommy, watching a football game. The little boy was in his own jersey, babbling everytime his father yelled at the tv. The sight was adorable to anyone who had eyes. He copies his father, bottle in hand, drinking every time his daddy takes a sip of his rootbeer. Tommy’s eyes light up as his daddy turns to him. “Team sucks, don’t they, bubby?”

Tommy didn’t understand, obviously, but he babbles away anyways, like a fan meeting their favourite celeb. Simon was tommy’s favourite person. You always said that they were twins. Tommy always wanted to do everything his daddy was doing. 

“Should we just eat on the couch?” You ask, carrying two plates in hand. Simon nods, patting the spot next to Tommy. You hand Simon his sandwich before turning to Tommy and sitting next to him. You pull the bowl of soft rice off your plate, feeding Tommy little bites off the plastic spoon, He continues watching the game with his dad, chewing with his little gums. 

He’s halfway done the rice before Manchester scores. 

Simon stands up, cheering as loudly as he can. Tommy tries to copy him, knocking over the bowl of rice.

Luckily, it doesn’t spill too much. 

A few grains land on your lap. Simon chuckles, sitting back down. 

Bastard finds this funny.

You throw a spoonful of rice onto him. Tommy laughs, reaching his hand into the bowl and picking up a handful of rice. He shoves his whole fist into his mouth, giggling. 

Simon gasps. “What did ya throw that at me fo’?” 

“It’s funny,” you giggle. 

Simon pulls Tommy’s fist out of his mouth. “Bubby, say ‘bad mommy’.”

“Hey!” You pout. Tommy giggles.

Simon leans over his son, kissing you softly, Tommy’s fist hitting at his chin. He kisses the baby boy’s cheek, smiling. “Love you too, bubby. And you, lovie.”

“I know.”