#quarreling neighbours

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"MAGISTRATE HAS HOPE FOR YOUNG ROBBERS," Toronto Star. August 3, 1934. Page 12. ---- Thinks They May Yet Tum Out To Be Good Citizens ---- Three youths, Stanley Lockock, Julius Cascone and Robert Atherky, appeared before Magistrate Brown in police court on two charges of stealing gasoline from service stations in Orillia.

They were sentenced to one year in the reformatory on charges of auto theft, by Magistrate Jones earlier in the week.

"I don't like to add to that sentence." commented the bench. "These boys may yet make good citizens."

He remanded them for sentence on the Orillia charges to which all pleaded guilty.

Michael O'Shea, alleged former member of the Toronto police force, and Cyril O'Reilly, were each remanded to Aug. 10 on charges of conducting a lottery.

Stole Milk Tickets Fred Jackson, 30, was remanded for sentence to Aug. 10. after he was convicted of stealing $45 in cash and $60 worth of milk tickets from Robert McMillan, Carlton st., whom he admitted was a former friend.

McMillan charged that Jackson had come to visit him and after he left the tickets and money were missing.

As Mrs. McMillan told a similar story accused asked permission to ask her questions.

"Didn't you ask me to go with you to find your husband who had been drinking all night?" he asked.

Witness denied the statement.

"Didn't you go with me to a hotel and didn't you stay there with me until 10 o'clock at night?" he persisted.

"I did not," the woman replied.

"Don't try to blacken these people," said the magistrate.

Jackson declared he had been at a downtown hotel accompanied by three women on the night he allegedly stole the money from the husband of one of them.

He declared he was married and had two children. His own wife was not in the party, he stated.

"Apparently you're not doing the right thing by your own family," commented Magistrate Browne.

Jackson nodded his head in agreement.

He admitted he had taken the cash but denied knowledge of the missing milk tickets.

John Tompkins pleaded guilty te being drunk last night, when he appeared before Magistrate Robert J. Browne in early men's police court to-day.

"I was drunk all right, but why they have to take you to the station and beat you up, I'd like to know," he said, when asked to plead.

Magistrate Browne remanded him until to-morrow, to await further information.

Robert Laurie and Michael McManus were each fined $50 or one month when convicted on drunk charges.

Joseph Murphy pleaded not guilty to a drunk charge but he was found guilty and fined $10 or 10 days.

John Strand and Squire Glen were also assessed $10 or 10 days when convicted of being drunk last night.

Remands were given to Norman Maiden, Frank Reid, Harry Mars, James Barson and Thomas O'Neil on drunk charges. All were first offenders.

Hit Police Cruiser As a result of a report received by police that a car had been drives over the sidewalk on Church St. en July 25, Joseph Brown was pursues in a police cruiser and arrested on College St.

This morning he appeared in traffic and liquor court charged with reckless driving.

P. C. Coathus said: "Brown ran into the right front fender of the police cruiser causing around damage."

"$20 or 30 days with permit cancelled for 10 days," pronounced Magistrate Tinker.

Testifying in the case of Wm. Willison, accused of reckless driving, P.C. McGregor said: "The accused man attempted to pass northbound traffic on Yonge St. and collided with a southbound car. At the same time he struck the car right behind him, causing $100 damage." The driver of the damaged car stated Willison had agreed to make reparation.

A fine of $30 or 30 days and ten days' imprisonment was imposed.

Richard Tomlinson, a truck farmer, charged with B.L.C.A.. pleaded that police had mistaken the smell of garlic for beer, but he was assessed $20 or ten days.

Wm. Donaghue and his wife were haled into court for permitting drunkenness this morning and the husband was fined $25 or 30 days.

"His foot may have slipped, but a well-directed penalty may put him right," said Magistrate Tinker in response to L. O'Connor's plea for leniency for his client, Wm. Farrell. accused of B.L.C.A.

P.C. Lee testified he and P.C. Forbes found accused and three others drinking beer in a house on Dundas St. W.

Farrell was fined $15 or 30 days.

Alwynne E. Thompson, husband of Mrs. Viola Thompson, whose body was found behind a lilac bush on Blythwood Rd., last month, was remanded to August 10, on a charge of per

jury, for which he has been in prison since a woman reported to police that Thompson had taken out a license to marry her. Thompson was held in the cells till his name was called from the list. He walked up the steps slowly, and stared about as his counsel.

T. B. Horkins, asked for remand. No bail was granted.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Feliz aniversário (hope thats correct) 😁🎂

If you don't mind maybe you could do "What if I kissed you right now? Would you stop me" with ⚔�� and a fem!reader please? Doesn't have to be nsfw.

Anon, that was perfect portuguese! Thank you so much for the birthday wishes! ❤️❤️ I know you said that it doesn't have to be NSFW, but it kind of turned out VERY NSFW... 😶 I hope that's still okay and I hope you enjoy it! I know I say this about all the stories, but damn did I have a lot of fun with this one!

I found the Zoro pic on Pinterest and couldn't find the artist. If you know it, please tell me so I can give credit! 🙏

Menace

Word Count: 5586

Tags: Fem!Reader; Rough Sex; Hate Sex; Enemies to Friends with Benefits; Edging; Power Dynamics; Spanking; NSFW; MDNI; Cursing; Alternate Universe - Modern Day College;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your fraternity house, The Straw Hats, is hosting an auction to raise money for charity. The pleasure of your company has just been bought by the most insufferable man on campus, Roronoa Zoro. You've known him since you were kids, hated him for just as long, and now you're his for the night.

Notes: Yeah I can't take it... I was going to post this tomorrow but I'm terrible. I cannot hold on to a finished fic for more than half an hour. Should I post everyday? Maybe not, but, hey, let's break all the rules 🤯 I post and you all read whenever you got the time! How about that? 😅 I hope you enjoy this! ❤️

|Masterlist|

“Why do you hate Zoro so much?” Nami casually downs her –second? Third?– serving of vodka and doesn't even wince at the burn. 

“It's complicated.” You take a small sip of your second refill and stop trying to keep up with Nami, or you'll be drunk before the auction even begins. 

“Try me!” She challenges you with a grin and pours another drink on her red cup. 

With a heavy sigh, you roll your eyes almost to the back of your head. “We go way back. Mihawk was my neighbour, and Perona used to be my babysitter, so I played with Zoro all the time, and he was always an insufferable prick. I just can't stand him.” Clenching your teeth, you forget about your self-imposed rule of slowing down and drink the contents of your cup in one long gulp. 

You regret it immediately. 

“Damn, that burns.”

“That's it?” Nami scoffs. “How anticlimactic.”

“What did you expect?” Setting the cup aside, you raise your brow while scanning the crowd. The party is finally picking up speed. 

“I don't know. Anything is more interesting than that. That doesn't even make sense! A lover's quarrel, a con gone wrong, you broke his favourite toy as a kid… anything!”

With a pout, you take offence at Nami's words and mumble between your teeth. “I still have a right to hate his guts. We're just not compatible.”

Nami empties her cup again and shrugs. “Weirdo! Well, looks like the party is filling up, let's take our place on the stage!”

The groan that leaves your lips sounds like it came from the depths of hell. Damn it, you really didn't want to do this tonight. But you still follow Nami through the raging crowd and up the rickety steps of the impromptu stage –the kitchen and the living-room table lined up into an unstable surface – your irritation mounting up more and more. “Remind me why we're doing this again?” You ask through gritted teeth. 

“It's a charity auction! For those kids with congenital diseases in Punk Hazard. It's an awesome cause, come on. You can bear this.”

Usopp takes ‘the stage’ and starts tapping the mic, a frown on his lips. “Oi, Franky, this is not working.”

“Yes, yes.” You continue. “I'm sure I can bear subjecting myself to be sold at an auction because ‘it's for charity’!” You say with varying degrees of eye-rolling. “Hey, Robin.” You greet the arriving girl. “Nami set you up for this too?”

Robin smiles at you with her sweet, beautiful smile. “She didn't have to. It's for charity! And you're not selling yourself, it's the pleasure of your company.”

Nami laughs and you groan. “You two are too good for this world.”

“Ah, yes, perfect! Thank you, Franky!” Usopp finally manages to get the mic to work, and the crowd starts to gather in front of the stage. The Straw Hats frat house, which you are a member of, is not big, but it's not that small either. You guys started small, didn't even make it to ten original members, but Luffy made such a name for himself that now, people rush all over campus just to join. “Welcome, welcome to the charity auction for… for…”

“The kids, dumbass!” Nami growls and hits him in the head. 

“The kids! So, it has come to our attention that we were being–...” Usopp takes out a cue card from his pocket. “Misogynistic pigs.” He quotes with his fingers and sets the card aside. “Because we only had a line up of ladies up for auction.”

A chorus of boos fills the space, and you chuckle as Usopp starts to sweat. “Buuuuut, we fixed that! So, today, we will host an all-gender auction with the original members of the Straw Hats.” A loud cheer erupted, and you could've sworn the foundations of the very house shook. “And some extras.” Usopp adds with a grin and gives the crowd more time to get excited. 

“Get your berries ready for: Nami–” The crowd cheers and wolf-whistles and you can hear Sanji threatening every man that dares look at Nami the wrong way. “Franky!” The woos are so loud that you almost have to cover your ears. “Robin, Luffy and his brothers, and yes, ladies and germs, they do come as a package, so bid high, Sanji, me–” He stops to hear the cheers but only Kaya, Usopp’s girlfriend, gives him a loud wolf-whistle. “Our rookie/mascot Chopper and our own lovely girl.” He says your name and you're surprised to hear some catcalls as well. 

Wait, no Zoro? He managed to bail out of charity? How? 

“Nami, did the asshole get lost on the way here? Or you didn't sign him up for this?” You ask, curious. 

“Damn Zoro! He owes me so much money that I thought I could convince him to do this, but he had one favour to call, one measly favour! And he used it.” She seems genuinely pissed, and now you share the sentiment. Why didn't you have a favour to call? 

But then the auction starts, and the bidding for Nami goes crazy. Sanji wants to deck every guy that even dares to bid, so he ends up being the winner. No surprise there, he's been in love with Nami since they met. Robin’s bidding is pretty tame because she looks a bit intimidating, but Trafalgar Law, the med student, wins, and you smirk. You've been trying to set those two up for ages. Luffy's bidding goes crazy because Boa Hancock only wants to bid for Luffy, she says she doesn't want to babysit the two morons, but she manages to convince another two girls to bid with her, and they take home “the prize”

When your turn finally arrives, you sigh, wishing against all hope that whoever bids for you is not an asshole and that you manage to share some good conversation. 

The bids start small, like all night. The highest they went was 3,000 berries for Luffy –and the two morons– so if you make it to 1,000, you'll be happy to have contributed! You notice that rival frat boy Rob Lucci keeps bidding and eyeing you weirdly. Your stomach churns a little bit at the prospect of having to spend time with him, since you just rejected his date invitation last week. Seems like he didn't give up. 

“2,000 berries.” A gruff, familiar voice shakes your thoughts, making your heart pound. In anger. Obviously. 

It's freaking Zoro. Why the hell is he bidding for your company? Other than the fact that you hate each other, you live in the same house –hell, you live across from each other. 

Rob Lucci grunts and raises his arm. “3,000 berries.” What? That's how much Luffy and his brothers got. What's going on? 

“The fuck? 5,000 berries.” Zoro growls at Usopp as he approaches the stage. “And you better bang that damn hammer down, Usopp.”

You stare at Zoro, eyes wide and mouth open. Did he really just bid 5k for a night with you?

“It's a gavel…” Usopp starts and Zoro narrows his eyes at him. “Sold!”

-*-

What the fuck did he just do? Zoro wants to blame his lack of judgement on the booze, but he barely just made it to the party, he only had one beer. He hates you. He can't stand your insufferable ass. So why did he bid that much money on your company? 

Just to make her night miserable. 

He's trying to convince himself, but in reality, he couldn't stand the way the fuckers in the crowd were talking about you. About what they would do if they got your company, about what they would try to accomplish for a chance with you. 

That shit had made his blood boil and, suddenly, he couldn't stand the thought of any man being in your company. 

And then that fucker Lucci made his bid. And there was no fucking way he would get his hands on you, not if Zoro could help it. He’s a fucking creep. 

But damn. The look of incredulity on your face is driving him crazy. The way your brows raise, making your eyes shine brighter. The way your perfect lips curve downward in disappointment? Zoro snickers. Well, at least his stupidity managed to make you mad! 

“5,000 berries, Zoro?” The way your dress hugs your curves perfectly is doing things to him that he wishes to ignore. He hates your guts. You’re insufferable and annoying. And when you were little, you were such a menace to all of his toys and play swords, always breaking things and taking them out of place. He couldn't stand you! But that doesn't mean he doesn't have eyes on his face. You are stunning as hell. And your body always managed to burn desire into his veins. 

“And I would've paid more just to see that annoyed look on your face, Menace.” The way you purse your lips in rage is satisfying in more ways than one. “Now I can ruin your night. Look at how much fun that's going to be.”

“Fuck this. I'm out.” You turn your back on him, and he grunts, taking a step forward and grabbing your wrist. You stop suddenly, shaken by the same thing as him, for sure. The way a jolt of electricity burns through his veins, making his heart skip a damn beat. Shit. 

“You can't just say you're out. I paid for you.” Just ignore it. 

“Correction, asshole, you paid for my company, but, for you, my company is worth ten times more than that!” You jerk your arm away from him, and he seethes when you leave with stamping feet. But he doesn't follow you yet, especially because, by the way your hips are swaying, he much rather stay in this spot and take it all in. 

Damn it. He fucking loathes you. 

-*-

The fucking nerve! How could he? Damn Zoro! Came out of nowhere just to ruin your night. As if you'd spend your night hanging with him! Doesn't matter if he looks damn hot in his fitted dress shirt and jeans. Who cares? He's an asshole. 

Crap, you need a drink. 

You take a turn in the hallway to get back to the party instead of running away, as you were going to do, and run face-first into Rob fucking Lucci. 

“Hello, Doll.” He drawls out, and you grimace. The fuck? “All alone? Where's your buyer?”

A frown paints your lips at his lazy insult. Buyer? As if someone could own you. 

“Hi Lucci, I don't know, frankly, don't even care. Bye.” You shrug and move to pass by him and return to the party, but he blocks your way with his towering frame, a predatory smile haunting his lips as an unwilling shiver courses through your veins. 

“Leaving so soon?” Lucci takes a step towards you and you back off. “Stay a while, Doll, we can have fun.” Alarm bells sound in your head as you frantically look around and take another step back, hitting the wall. 

“I don't think so, Lucci. I'm going.” With a deep breath, you try to move past him, but he places one hand on your chest, above your breasts, and pushes you against the wall with a thud. 

“Is it money you want? Roronoa dropped 5k, but I wasn't willing to give more for charity.” His hand climbs until it's pressuring your neck, and you start to panic. The other hand slips beneath the strap of your dress and pulls on it until it breaks, almost revealing your breast. You open your mouth to scream, but he covers it. “I can give 5k just for you, if that's what you want. To be treated like a little whore.”

He barely finishes the word before a fist comes flying out of nowhere and decks him right on the nose. He grunts and falls down, freeing you in the process, and you gasp as you stare at Zoro's angry scowl. He's baring his teeth, body still angled from the force of the blow, heavy breaths making his shoulders heave. 

“The fuck did you just call her, you fucking asshole?” Zoro takes another step towards Lucci –who's bleeding from his nose and curling down on the floor– and kicks him in the stomach. “Better get the fuck out of my sight before I break more than your fucking nose.”

And to your surprise, he does. He gets up with a string of curses and just leaves. You're still leaning against the wall, a hand on your neck, soothing the pain from Lucci’s grip, and staring at Zoro. He defended you. He hates you. 

“You cool?” Zoro turns to you, an indecipherable expression on his face. 

“I'm fine.” You utter. Maybe you should thank him. 

“Next time don't indulge him.” He says with so much disdain that your shock wears off completely. 

“Excuse me? Indulge him? He fucking cornered me! And I didn't need your fucking help!” You take a step in Zoro's direction but quickly take another step back when he does the same to you, anger flaring in his eyes. 

“Didn't you, really?” He laughs right in your face, and his breath is warm and smells of alcohol and forbidden things. “The fuck is this, then?” He grabs the loose strap of your dress, and the smallest touch of his fingertips against your bare skin is enough to set it on fire. 

“I… It’s…”

“Just say thank you, Menace. It's not that hard! It's two fucking words.” He slams his hand against the wall beside your face. This close, you can almost feel the body heat coming from his chest, which he now has out for everyone to see since he unbuttoned half of his shirt. 

He's right. You should thank him. But it's a weakness you don't want to show him. 

“You want me to say two words?” He hums low and you can almost feel the vibration coming from his chest. You lean forward, your face mere inches from his, hatred burning so hot and fierce in your body that you can't even differentiate it from the desire you know you also feel, even if it kills you to admit it. Licking your lips, and rejoicing in the way his eye darts to them, you say with contempt, “Make. Me.”

You can almost sense the heat rising with the words you spoke. The tension crackles and burns, coiling around your bodies like a lithe snake. 

“You're fucking testing me right now.” His words burn straight into your core. How can you hate and, at the same time, want him so much? 

“All talk, no action, right? I'm familiar with your type.”

His smirk seems deranged, and damn if that doesn't make your panties soak. 

“What if I kissed you right now, Menace, would you stop me?” The velvet in his words almost makes your head spin. Would you? Stop him? Your eyes drop to his mouth, and you bite your lower lip in anticipation. 

Probably not. 

But he doesn't even let you answer, his smirk disappears as his eyes linger on your lips again. For a moment, you think he's going to do it, but then he leans back and lets out a dry laugh, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Got ya.”

Shit. You feel really dumb right now. You really thought he was going to kiss you. 

This is a very dangerous game you're playing right now. And you're done. “Thank you, for helping me.” You let out, slowly, before you push him and return to the party. 

-*-

“You're hiding from me, Menace. I paid for your company. Humour me.”

You did spend the last hour trying to avoid Zoro, because something stirred within you since he decked fucking Rob Lucci for your honour. As if you were a freaking damsel in distress. Fuck hormones, fuck primal desire for strong men, fuck fairytale movies, and fuck romance books. 

But in reality, all you really want is to fuck Roronoa Zoro. 

And that right there is why you need to stay the hell away from him. Because he's an asshole and you hate him. “Why do you hate Zoro?” Nami's words have been resounding in your head for the last hour and, frankly, you don't even know. It's just one of those certain things in life, like the sun rising and setting every day. The sun rises, you hate Zoro, the sun sets, you still hate Zoro. 

But why? 

“Well, I understand your need for my company, I'm great. But I realised that I get the short end of the stick in this deal. Your company sucks.”

He grins smugly and leans against the same wall you're leaning on. “You can bet that nothing about me is short, Menace.”

The blush that flushes your cheeks is completely involuntary, and you blame it on the solo beer you had one hour ago. You don't want to think about the thing that's not short on Zoro right now, thank you very much. 

“You're forgetting your temper. Your temper’s short.”

“Yet no disbelief about what I'm implying… Interesting.”

You scoff. “I'm actually a ‘I'll believe it when I see it’ kind of gal, but in this case, Roronoa, I'll take your word for it.”

This has got to be the most civil conversation you've had in years, even if it's full of innuendo and little jabs. What's changing? 

“You don't have to.” The red cup freezes on the way to your lips for a moment before you catch your breath. “I mean, I've got you all to myself. I can show you what else is big.”

Is he joking? You turn your face slightly to the side so you can glare at him and that infuriating smirk that usually makes your blood boil with anger is now looking devastatingly striking. 

“Jeez, Menace, wipe that hungry look from your face. I'm talking about my collector’s edition swords.”

Shit.

“Fuck you, Zoro.” 

-*-

The next half-hour is spent in your bathroom, slapping cold water on your face and giving your reflection a freaking pep talk. What the hell is wrong with you today? It's fucking Zoro! Insufferable Zoro! Hateful Zoro! 

Protective Zoro… Hot Zoro… 

The hell! Enough! 

You splash more water on your face, open the door, and abruptly leave your bedroom, only to bump into your second chest of the night. Maybe you should watch where you're going. 

“What are you doing here?” You both say, at the exact same time. “I was in my bathroom.” 

Shit! Zoro's room is across from yours, so it's pretty plausible that he was there. Your eyes search his face, and he looks a bit frazzled. There are still droplets of water around the edges of his hair which makes you wonder if he was doing the same thing as you were. 

But that has to mean that he's been feeling this weird too. 

“What if I kissed you right now? Would you stop me?”

Fuck. 

“God, I can't stand the sight of you, just go away, Zoro!” You say, anger boiling in your veins again, except this time, the anger is directed at yourself. 

“I thought we might have one night of normalcy around here, since I saved your ass from Rob Lucci’s stinking paws twice today! But nooo!” Zoro bares his teeth your way, and this right here, this feeling of hatred you're used to. It feels right. It's normal. You crave it. 

“Leave my ass out of your mouth, Zoro! My ass is just fine as it is!”

Zoro takes a stride forward, trapping you between his body and your bedroom door. 

“Your ass needs some spanking, that's what it needs!” You blush and part your lips in surprise, but you can't hide the hunger in your eyes at his words. His hands slam against the door beside your face and you bite your lip to suppress a very embarrassing moan of need. “You think you can behave like a little brat with me?” Zoro lans forward, his lips brushing your earlobe, and you struggle to breathe. “I just want to fuck that atitude right out of you, Menace.”

You swear your knees turn to jelly. Either that, or the heat pooling in your abdomen has completely leaked through your panties and drained you weak. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You want him. You need him. But you're not going to be easy. 

“I'd like to see you try, asshole.” You sounded convincing in your head, but to your ears, your voice came out so sultry that you might as well have said: oh, please take me mighty Zoro. 

Whatever got you laid right now. 

A dark flash of hunger passes through Zoro's eyes just before he laces his fingers through your hair and tugs hard. You keep your mouth firmly closed because there's no way you're going to easily let him indulge in your wanton moans. But fuck it, that felt good. 

Another second is all it takes before he leans down and takes your lips in his. The kiss is everything but gentle. It's hard, bruising, demanding. Full of hunger and burning flames, consuming everything in its path. He tugs your hair, you dig your nails into his shoulders; he bites your lip, you bite his tongue. It's a battle of wits and wills, and there's no way in hell you're losing this. 

Zoro's hand feels the door until it finds the doorknob and he turns it. Your weight was supported by the door, so you find yourself falling backwards, until Zoro's big hands clasp your ass, lifting you effortlessly from the ground and avoiding your fall. 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you turn your moan into a rough grunt before it embarrasses you, because Zoro was right. He's not short on anything and his not-short-anything is pressed against your core, throbbing. 

“Fuck.” You mutter, involuntarily as you bite Zoro's lower lip hard, and he enters your bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. 

“I told you it was big.”

“Fucking showoff.”

He slaps your ass hard, making you gasp. And damn, you want him to do it again. “Language, Menace. Behave.” With a primal grunt that travels straight into your cunt, he slams you against the door, making you wince. Then he sets you down as his hands begin to fumble with the zipper on your dress. But he's impatient and horny, so he just rips it apart. 

“Shit! Asshole, that was one of my favourite dresses.” You admonish him between pants. That was freaking hot. His lips glue themselves to your neck, and he takes a hard bite. 

“Shut up, I'll buy you another one.” Then he starts to remove the shreds of the dress from you. 

“I'd like to know where all this money came from, you broke bastard.” You huff and rip the buttons off his shirt as payback for the dress. 

“Watch it!” He grumbles. But then clothes start flying. His jeans come off, and so does your bra. He doesn't give a shit about the way he rips your panties, and you just yank his briefs out of the way as well. Fuck it. You really got the long and thick end of the stick. 

“That's not going to fit.” You mumble, eyes wide and chest heaving. 

“Afraid, Menace?” He gloats with a hint of pride, and you scoff at him. 

“As if.” And then you're all over each other again. Teeth clacking against each other, lips bruising, and nails scratching. It's primal and raw, and everything you could want or need at this moment. 

With a swift movement, Zoro lifts you up mid-kiss and sends you flying into the middle of the bed. Your body may be bouncing on the bed, but your heart is hammering away in your chest. 

“Get on all fours.” He commands as he opens drawers, looking for a condom. 

“There.” You point at the dresser, and he follows your directions. “And fuck you. I don't take your orders.” You growl. 

Zoro grabs a condom from the drawer and paces to you in all his naked glory. The unhinged smirk on his lips both sends a cold shiver down your spine and feeds the burning flame in your core. 

He kneels on the bed next to you and flips you over as if you weighed nothing, manhandling you into the position he wants. You let out a yelp as your face gets buried against the pillows. Then his hands grab your hips and pull your ass into the air, leaving you bare and exposed for him. 

“Ass up, Menace. I want to take a good look at you.”

A rush of heat courses through your body and flushes your cheeks as you use your elbows to try to rise into a less undignified position, but Zoro grabs your arms and pins them behind your back. Then he lays out a good slap on your buttcheek, and you cry out in surprise. 

“I'm going to spank the little brat out of you in no time. I've had it with your attitude.” He growls, leaning over your back, and you can already feel slick coating your thighs. But you'll be damned if you're going to lose this unspoken battle of wits. 

“Do your worst, asshole.”

Zoro chuckles low and lands another slap on the other side. He doesn't ease the sting, he just lets it burn on the skin, but this time you don't make another sound other than your heavy breathing. 

“Look at you, all wet for me already. Aren't you a needy little thing? Pretending you don't want me, and now, look at you.” Zoro places two fingers inside your slit, and they slide right in. It feels so good you just want to explode. 

You force your eyes closed as you bite down on the pillow, trying to stifle your moans. You're not going to give him the satisfaction. 

“I know you want me. I know you're loving this, Menace. Look at how well you take my fingers.” He inserts a third finger, and you shudder. A rippling cry threatens to escape you, but you clamp it down tight. 

“You like this, don't you? You're just being too fucking stubborn to admit. But I've got all night, Menace. I can play with you. And once I'm finished, you'll be as docile as a little bunny.”

Zoro strokes your clit and circles it languorously. You're so wet that the squelches your pussy makes are embarrassingly unholy. Can you come without moaning loudly? Can you contain yourself? 

“Oh, God, fuck!” Zoro's tongue feels like nothing else. It's hot and long, and it curves just right as it enters you at the same time as he pinches your swollen nub. You almost unravel just from that. 

“There's no God here, little Menace. It's all me.” He speaks to your cunt, and you can't help another shudder and groan. Fuck it, you're about to come, and you don't care if you're going to moan your heart out. 

“I'm… almost…”

A ragged breath parts your lips before you drown it with a heavy groan and a curse. Zoro stops. 

“What the hell, Zoro?”

He turns you onto your back with a rough shove and stares at you with the biggest fucking shit-eating grin you've ever seen. 

“I want to hear you beg for release.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“I am.” Zoro bends your legs and places the tip of his cock at your entrance, teasing you, taunting you. God, you want him inside you so badly. “Is this what you want?”

“Shit, yes, Zoro, just put it in.” Banging your fists in frustration against the bed only makes him smirk harder. 

“Make. Me.” He mimics your words from before, and you grit your teeth. The fucking asshole. Then you free your legs from his hold, grab his shoulders, and pull him down so you can take his lips in a bruising kiss, yanking his hair in the process and hooking your legs around his waist. 

With a movement of your hand, you align his tip with your hole, but as you're about to push your body against his, he places his hands on your hips and stills you, still taking your tongue against his mouth until you back away, gasping for air. 

“Fuck, Zoro!” You say, frustrated, and just as you're about to let out another string of curses, he thrusts all the way in, bottoming out and stealing all the air from your lungs. 

Your head falls back in abandon, and the first wanton moan escapes you unwillingly as your cunt fights to stretch and accommodate his size. 

“Menace! What the fuck. That fucking pretty noise. I want to hear it again.” His voice rings low and clipped. He's breathing hard, and his digits bruise the flesh of your hips. He thrusts again, but you keep your lips sealed, even though it's the best feeling in the whole world and you've never felt this full. “Moan for me. Break apart, little Menace. I'm going to fucking ruin you.”

He thrusts again and again and again. His hands grope and squeeze, and then they abuse your nipples, pinching and flicking and bringing you near insanity. You're there. Right there. You just need another–... 

“No! Zoro! Shit!” Tears threaten to spill from the corner of your eyes as he stops once again, right when you're on the verge of climax. 

“Beg.”

“Fuck off.”

Zoro leans you to the side and slaps your ass again, making you curl your toes. “Beg.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

A whimper, the smallest of noises, leaves your mouth as you squirm under his hold. He's all the way inside you, but he's not moving. And it's torture. 

“Please…” You let out without looking him in the eyes. 

“Please what, Menace? I can't hear you.” He pulls out and fills you again, slowly, so, so slowly. “Have you lost all the fight in you?” 

“Fuck me, Zoro! Fuck me hard. Make me come, I need to come, please!” A litany of prayers and pleas leave your lips, and Zoro's smirk is smug, but there's a hint of something in his eyes very similar to warmth that you don't quite want to acknowledge. 

“That's my good girl.” He pulls you higher, hooking his hands under your ass and lifting it so he can fuck you with the perfect angle to hit your G-spot. And fuck it if he doesn't get it right as he resumes his thrusts. Two hard thrusts are all it takes before you lose yourself. 

Your thighs clench around him as you grip the sheets hard. A mountain of pleasure releases its avalanche upon you, and you moan and mewl without care or bother. Fuck it, you can beg Zoro all night if he makes you feel this good. 

“That's it, pretty girl. Let it all out for me.” Zoro rambles and picks up his brutal pace, flipping you over and raising your ass in the air again. Your brain is too addled and hazed to comprehend what's going on, and the ease with which he manhandles you makes you dizzy. “I want to hear it again.” 

He grunts as he pounds relentlessly into you, bruising your cervix and slapping your aching ass again. 

“Zoro! Yes, harder!” You can feel sweat in the palms of Zoro's hand as he slides one up your back, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling you toward him. His other hand finds your oversensitive clit, and he pinches, making you come again and again. It's a relentless torrent of pleasure that makes you cry out his name between pants and moans. 

You barely notice as Zoro clamps down his teeth against your shoulder and shudders into his own release, squeezing you against him. Your bodies slick with sweat and limp with exhaustion. 

As you fall forward, struggling to regain your breath, Zoro gets up to rid himself of the used condom and opens your mini fridge, bringing a water bottle with him. He hands it to you before lying down with a sigh. 

What the fuck just happened?

“That was a good fuck, Menace.” He admits with another shit-eating grin. Hell yes, it was. He hit spots you didn't even know were possible to hit. You felt pleasure like never before, and damn it all, you might  be addicted with just the first hit of the drug that's Roronoa Zoro. 

“Shit, Zoro. If I knew you were this damn good, we could've been doing this for a while.”

He chuckles, and you laugh. This might be the first time you both shared a real laugh since you were kids. 

“Are you up for round two?” He asks, and you glance down. Sure enough, his monstrous cock is already saluting you in all its glory. 

“Hell yeah. You did pay for my company, Roronoa.”

What changed? Maybe you, maybe him? You can't be quite sure. But maybe it's not quite hate you feel about him at this moment. Because hate burns, but what you two have melts. It's deeper than that. 

And this time around, Zoro takes time to soothe the bruised skin of your hips with a little caress. He kisses the red welts he left on your ass cheeks, and his thrusts are less bruising and demanding.

What changed? 

Your feelings. That's what it was. 

Fuck.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @walmartmihawk

[jksarchives]

THE SIX STAGES OF A BREAK-UP │02

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader

➪ GENRE; lovers to strangers, angst

➪ WC; 2.5k

✎ series masterlist

2. BARGAINING

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

You grew up in a small, quaint town in the countryside. The town, known for its picturesque landscapes and close-knit community, was a place where everyone knew each other.

Your parents were the owners of the town’s largest grocery store, therefore becoming a cornerstone. Your parents were the one of the most important pillars in the community who kept everyone together.

Their grocery store wasn't just a place to buy food; it was a social hub where neighbours caught up, children bought candies with their pocket money, and elderly townsfolk gathered for a chat. The store was indispensable, making sure that everyone had access to daily necessities without needing to travel to the nearest city, miles away.

Growing up, up until high school, your world revolved around the store. You spent countless hours weaving through aisles, stacking shelves, and sometimes even helping customers find what they needed.

To many, it seemed like an ideal childhood, an amazing daughter who always helped her parents.

But deep down, you knew your life was more than just lifting the burden of every day demands off your parents’ shoulder.

You were an only child to your parents, but they had always been busy for as long as you could remember.

From dawn until dusk, their lives were consumed by the tasks of running the store. Inventory needed to be checked, deliveries received, and the cash register manned. Weekends and holidays were no exception; in fact, those were often the busiest times. You would watch as your parents pour their energy and time into the store, leaving little left for you.

As a little five-year-old girl, you yearned for your parents' attention. You wished for just a few hours of their undivided focus, dreaming of days where you would play in the park, bake cookies, or simply talk. You longed for bedtime stories and weekend outings with them, but these were rare luxuries.

Their love for you was undeniable, but their presence was scarce.

Sometimes, you imagined what it would be like to have a sibling — a sister to share secrets with, a brother to play games with, someone who could fill the void in your heart.

Your friends would talk about the fun and quarrels they had with their brothers and sisters, stories that left you feeling envious and longing for the same experiences.

And as you grew older, your feelings of jealousy became more pronounced. Watching your friends with their siblings, who continued creating memories together and receiving unwavering attention from their parents, intensified your sense of deprivation.

Your attempts to gain your parents' attention often went unnoticed. You excelled in school, hoping your achievements would draw them closer, but their acknowledgment was short-lived.

Birthdays and special occasions were celebrated with gifts but lacked the warmth of genuine togetherness you hoped for. The superficial gestures could not fill the emotional gap that had grown over the years.

The loneliness of your childhood left a lasting impact on you. And as you transitioned into your teenage years, you carried with you the scars of emotional neglect from your parents.

You still loved them, and you couldn’t really blame them for trying to keep up with the heritage that your grandfather had built.

But you just wished. You just wished they had given you at least a day of their lives for you.

Relationships were difficult, be it romantic or friendship.

You craved connection but struggled with attachment issues. When you formed romantic relationships or friendships, you would swing back and forth between intense dependency and a strong desire to push people away. Your fear of being abandoned was strong, but so was your fear of being too close.

The one time you had a boyfriend when you were sixteen, you would often test boundaries, pushing for reassurance while simultaneously fearing that any closeness would lead to inevitable disappointment.

You found yourself frequently overanalysing your past boyfriend’s words and actions, interpreting affectionate gestures as signs of rejection or neglect.

But eventually he grew tired and frustrated with your behaviour, and left you overthinking everything about yourself and your flaws.

The cycle continued as you found yourself either overly clingy or excessively distant, never quite able to find a balanced space where trust could flourish. This pattern left you feeling isolated and misunderstood, as if you were forever on the outside looking in.

It wasn’t until you moved to Seoul to attend college that your life began to shift. The change came in the form of Jungkook, a free-spirited and warm-hearted boy who was everything you weren’t.

You met him at the college library, arguing about a book which you both happened to get your hands on but he let you have the win. For a moment you already felt a sense of displeasure towards him. But it all melted away when he began a conversation with you.

Jungkook was a young businessman with an open heart and an infectious zest for life. He was an heir to his father’s company, and he attended college to enhance his knowledge before taking over his father’s position someday.

You learned that he was outgoing, effortlessly charming, and had an innate ability to make people feel at ease. He was a contrast to everything you had known. He was emotionally expressive, and his openness fascinated you.

As you both started spending more time together, you found yourself slowly letting down your guard. Jungkook’s understanding and patience were qualities you hadn’t expected.

He never pushed you to share more than you were comfortable with but was always there, offering a listening ear when you did choose to open up.

Jungkook’s consistent love and support through the ten years you had been together never changed, despite the times where your insecurities would resurface.

Jungkook’s love for you was evident in how he made you feel valued and cherished. He listened intently when you spoke, celebrated your successes as if they were his own, and stood by your side during tough times.

You always reflected on how lucky you were to have him. He didn’t just love you; he showed it in ways that made you feel truly seen and appreciated.

You knew that love wasn’t always easy, but Jungkook’s commitment made every challenge seem surmountable. His promise to never leave wasn’t just words; it was a living truth in the way he chose to be present in your life, day after day.

But what now?

What is going to happen now?

How were you going to live without him by your side like he promised?

It was that very thought that sent your body into a panic mode as you watched Jungkook heavy-heartedly pack his belongings.

It had been two days since he told you he wanted to break up. Two days since you slept in different rooms. One where he laid feeling guilty as he had ever been, and the other where you cried your eyes out the entire night.

You didn’t speak to him at all, though he tried his best to talk to you, saying how sorry he was for everything. But the weight of the heartbreak left you unable to speak, fearing that if you tried to, you’d break down all over again.

However, right now as you watched him, you seemed to find your voice again.

The closet door was wide open, and his suitcase laid open and half packed. You took a small step forward. Your breath felt like it was stuck in your throat, and your vision blurred as tears formed. You tried to blink them away, but they only fell faster, tracing wet lines down your cheeks.

With each step, you felt a desperate urge to make him stay, to rewind time and undo everything that had caused your relationship to fall apart.

“Jungkook,” you called softly, your voice cracking.

Jungkook paused, his back still turned to you, the shirt he was holding briefly forgotten in his hands. Slowly, he turned to face you, his expression a mixture of resignation and sorrow.

“What are you doing?” you asked, though the answer was obvious. The question was a plea, a small hope that he might say something to break the spell of finality.

Jungkook sighed and looked down, unable to meet your eyes. “I'm just...packing my things,” he said quietly.

“I’m moving back with my parents for a bit before I get my own place” he then quietly mumbled.

There was a long pause, and all he could hear was your silent cries.

“Why does it have to be like this? Can’t we...Can’t we fix this?” you asked, feeling every cell in your body weaken.

Jungkook shook his head, a pained expression crossing his face.

“I don’t think so Y/n, I’m sorry. This is for the best” he replied.

“For the best?” you echoed, your voice trembling, “it doesn’t feel like it”. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of your desperation and fear.

He finally looked at you, his eyes mirroring the depth of your pain. “I know it doesn’t. But I can’t stay, Y/n. I can’t do this to you. You deserve to be happy with someone who loves you” he said.

Your shoulders slumped, and you felt a sob rising in your chest. You didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to accept that your love story had come to such an end.

You couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving, of facing a future without him. The thought of waking up alone, of not hearing his laughter or feeling his arms around you, was unbearable.

“I don’t know how to do this without you Jungkook, please don’t go” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the situation.

Jungkook was well aware of your attachment issues, and it hurt him to do this. But could you blame him for being a little selfish? He couldn’t stay in a loveless relationship and suffocate himself, but he couldn’t lead you with false hope either. He could never do that to you. He never hurt you like that.

He walked over to you and took your hands in his. His touch was warm, familiar, and it sent a jolt of longing through you.

“I’m so sorry for how everything came to be Y/n, I really am. I didn’t mean for it to happen, I promise” his voice shook, and his eyes glossed with unshed tears.

“I know it’s going to be hard, but you’re stronger than you think Y/n” he said softly as his hands then moved up to cup your face.

Jungkook knew how hard this was for you, and how harder things were going to get once he left. But there wasn’t much he could do but infinitely apologise for the heartbreak he has caused.

“That’s so easy for you to say” you cried, leaning into his touch. You didn’t feel strong. You felt like you were falling apart, piece by piece.

“I know it is, but I’m not leaving your side forever Y/n” he responded.

“I’ll always be here for you, maybe not as a lover anymore, but as a friend. We were friends in the beginning, and it will always remain so” he said.

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

‘Friend’, right.

But something about staying friends with your ex who you’ve been together with for a decade didn’t feel right to you. Who does that? You thought.

No.

You weren’t ready to let him go.

You couldn’t let him go.

“Please, don’t leave me,” you pleaded, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“We can fix this, I’m sure we can” you desperately held onto his hands.

The vulnerability in your words was raw, unfiltered, and it tore at you to expose yourself so completely. You didn’t care how shamelessly you were acting, practically begging a man who doesn’t love you anymore to stay.

Jungkook’s eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought he might relent.

But then he shook his head, a look of regret etched on his face. “I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, slowly and carefully detaching himself from you.

“I can’t do this to you, to us” he said as he backed away. He looked at you for a second, apologetically, before resuming to pack his clothes.

You stood silently crying until you felt like you ran out of tears. Your eyes were on this all along, yet your mind drifted elsewhere.

This was it.

┄┄┄┄┄

You were sitting on the couch when Jungkook’s voice broke the silence, startling you.

“I think that’s everything,” he says softly, not meeting your eyes. There’s a hint of sadness in his voice. You nodded, unable to trust yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, and you bit your lip to keep yourself from crying.

He glanced around one last time.

“I’ll get the rest of my stuff another day,” he said, almost as an afterthought. You nodded again, your heart sinking.

This was it. He was really leaving.

Jungkook picked up his suitcase and headed toward the door. As he passed you, he paused for a moment. He looked hesitant for a moment but gave in. He let go of his suitcase and pulled you up before wrapping his arms around you.

“Take care Y/n,” he said quietly against your soft brown locks.

You weakly shut your eyes, allowing the tears you’ve been holding back to freely flow once again. You swallowed a thick lump as you wrapped your arms around his muscular torso. You inhaled his cologne as you rigged on his shirt, savouring his familiar scent for the last him

“You too, Jungkook,” you managed to whisper shakily, your voice barely audible.

Jungkook could feel his shirt dampened by your tears and it only made his guilt spread across his chest.

He pulled you away and looked at your tear streaked face.

He saw you taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“Can you kiss me one last time before you leave?” you asked.

Jungkook looked unsure, and the hesitation was clear on his face. For a moment, you feared he would refuse, and the rejection would be too much to bear. But then, slowly, he nodded.

“Okay,” he said softly.

As Jungkook leaned in, you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of his lips against yours.

The kiss was gentle and bittersweet, a reminder of what you once had and what you were losing. For a few brief seconds, the world around you both faded away, and it was just the two of you, locked in a final moment of connection.

When he pulled away, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. Jungkook wiped it away gently with his thumb, his expression tender.

“I’m sorry” he said.

You didn’t know how to respond to that. But knew he was genuine with his words with the way he looked at you and held you, like a delicate glass that was now fractured.

All you could do was hum.

“Goodbye Y/n, take care. I’m always here when you need me” he said.

But you needed him now, and during all the years he had promised you.

How could you tell him that you didn’t want to let him go?

“Goodbye Jungkook” you replied, your heart breaking all over again.

As you watched him walk away, you knew that this was the end of your story. A story that ended too early and abruptly, leaving you to figure out your own ending.

NEXT ➜

[coralinnii]

I love the villain scorned by the world feat: Leona genre: budding romance note: continuation of the sequel to Villain/ess au Leona’s ver., not gender-specific reader, no pronouns used, established political relationship, Leona and reader are adults, roughly 1.5k word count, reader is interpreted as extremely ticklish,

Series masterlist

The Royal couple is in trouble!

No, not the King and Queen. And you and Leona are not really in danger, nor are you breaking up or anything…ok no one is really in trouble.

But there’s definitely some tension between the newlywed couple as the servants fear the honeymoon phase has finally fizzled (though you wanted to argue that there never was such a phase to begin with).

First, it started with the lover’s quarrel (the lovers part is also debatable, you muttered) the day Leona revealed fresh scratch marks on his shoulders and chest. The knights recalled the frustration and embarrassment on your face when you verbally tore into Leona over the marks, yelling at the young prince how humiliating it was that King Farena himself had to mention it.

Leona’s words didn’t help your ire, casually replying, “I couldn’t care less what my brother or anybody says about me or our relationship, and neither should you”

Unfortunately for him, you don’t agree with that as you left the training grounds right after calling him a “tactless housecat”. The knights kept their awe for you internally so as to not get caught by the stunned prince. No one but you could ever call Leona Kingscholar that and leave unscathed. Kudos to you

Since then, you have avoided your shared bedroom with your husband, making excuses of obligations and signs of illness (a huge migraine counts, right?). but no one knew you were actually just fearful that Leona would exact his revenge on you through tickling. You don’t regret pissing off the great Leona, you just regret showing a vindictive beastman your weak spots.

Leona was pissed but not because you called him a housecat (ok, maybe a little), it was mostly because your absence has disrupted his naps.

Since your union, you two were obligated to share a bed frequently to maintain your relationship despite having your own personal rooms. At first, it was a pain for Leona to share his peace and quiet with someone but he has grown accustomed to you as the two of you come together to sleep.

The warmth of your body that radiates that perfect amount of heat beside him, the pleasant waft of your scent that sticks to the sheets and pillows that doesn’t overwhelm his senses unlike the obnoxious perfumes of those gold-diggers, your soft breathing that lulls him to sleep as he unconsciously inches closer to you to hear and feel you better. He finds himself waking up in a much better mood and more well rested after your shared nights. You can’t just take that away from him after getting so comfortable.

You ruined his napping routine so you gotta fix it now.

Leona came up to you, calling a truce to “that incident” and promising not to tickle you as revenge for your yelling and insults. You immediately picked up his wording, noting he didn’t say he’ll stop tickling for good, but you figured that’s fine for now.

Ironically though, you really did have obligations that required you to stay in your personal bedroom. You have been exchanging letters with someone from a neighbouring kingdom who was planning a visit soon. So, you were now avoiding sharing a bed with Leona since you didn’t want to disturb his sleep as you stayed up to make preparations for the visiting Royal.

With your prolonged avoidance and Leona’s growing grumpiness, the castle has been tense with worry that the peaceful alliance may be at risk. Everyone was on edge and nearly in tears, especially one young lion cub.

“The kingdom’s in danger!” Cheka bawled as he buried himself into your arms, clutching to your clothes. He had walked into your bedroom with tears in his eyes, towards your seated position by your work desk and climbed into your lap.

You were at a loss at the young cub’s sudden proclamation. You turned to Leona who was lying on your large bed, spreading himself across the mattress like he owned it. He only shrugged his shoulders, confused as you are (though clearly not as worried).

“Cheka honey, what do you mean? Did your father say something today?” You asked worriedly, wondering what news could lead to such a statement.

But Cheka shook his head, still holding onto your shirt. If you weren’t so concerned with his words, you would have joked about how the young heir acts more like a koala than a mighty lion right now.

“Then spit it out, you brat” Leona irritably said, earning a side glare from you which he ignored, “What do you mean the kingdom’s in danger?”

“Hic…everyone is saying you two are gonna b-break up” Cheka choked out, tears filling his eyes again, “Then the union is gonna fail and everyone might go to war”

…

There was now silence as you and Leona processed the child’s words. That was one hell of a stretch of a scenario. Sure, your union with Leona was one of political benefits, but you weren’t crazy enough to start a war with an entire kingdom over a bad break up.

“We ain’t breaking up”

“Oh right, that too” you thought, realizing the obvious that Leona pointed out with an angry growl in his throat, his tail thumping down against your bed in visible annoyance.

“You and Unca aren’t?” Cheka asked, finally lifting his head to look up at you with hopeful eyes. You smiled at the cute cub beastman, weaving your hand through his fluffy hair.

“No, your uncle and I are perfectly happy. We’re not breaking up anytime soon” you reassured your nephew, too distracted to notice the way the aggressive thumping on your bed had stopped.

“Happy? Like mommy and daddy?” Cheka asked with a quizzical look, leaving you to gush internally over such cuteness.

You absentmindedly nodded your head. “Yes, just like your mommy and daddy”

“Then how come Unca and you don’t kiss?”

Oh, the silence is back.

“Mommy and daddy are always happy with each other, and they kiss all the time” Cheka continued, tapping his mouth to show where he sees his parents leave kisses, “If you’re happy, don’t you kiss each other?”

You’re cursing to yourself a mile a minute in your head, a rush of emotional stress going through your body. You didn’t want to explain the complexity of your relationship with Leona to the young Cheka, especially when you didn’t want to destroy his views of love and romance.

“How dare King Farena call me out on my PDA with Leona when he goes ahead and does this?” You frustratingly thought as you looked to Leona who has been unhelpfully laying on your bed, suspiciously quiet for a while. You glared at him while tilting your head to his nephew, wordlessly demanding help from your husband.

Surprisingly, it looked like Leona was willing to help you afterall. He finally got off your comfy bed and walked towards you and Cheka, settling to place his hand atop the backrest of your chair and leaned down towards your head.

“Yea, why don’t we kiss?”

You take back everything you thought. Leona Kingscholar is never helpful and you’re a fool to ever think that. You hoped your glare would eventually burn Leona, but sadly he still stood proudly over you with a smug look on his handsome face. Damn his handsome face.

“It’s your move, herbivore” Leona said, purposely baiting you by calling you a herbivore. He took the teasing further by leaning further down towards you, eager to see your next move.

He’s calling you out, waiting to see if you’ll chicken out and make an excuse to Cheka as he was watching you with anticipation. Fine, you’ll make the great Leona Kingscholar think twice before testing you.

You made the first move, boldly capturing the cocky prince’s lips with your own.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. The two of you have done it before on your wedding day. It should mean nothing to you as it did that day, just a formality to show your dedication to this alliance. Just a meaningless skinship between adults, right?

But why did it feel so good?

Why did you enjoy the surprising softness of Leona’s lips, or the way he didn’t seem shocked by your sudden attack but instead pressed his lips further onto yours. Why did it feel so nice to feel the Leona’s warmth on you, his natural scent strangely attractive to you. Even the stray locks of his dark mane felt nice as it lightly tickled your cheeks. You rather perish than to verbally admit, but your prideful husband was a good kisser. Firm and confident, if a little strong.

Actually really strong, why is he getting more aggressive?!

You had to fervently whack the tall prince on his shoulder to signal him to get off, to which he very slowly did. He backed away from you slightly, a little annoyed but still satisfied according to his little smirk. He certainly enjoyed the flustered mess of your face.

“Yay! No break up!” Cheka’s chirpy voice broke your daze and he cheered over your apparent “happy” relationship.

You sighed, but at least you were thankful to settle this weird confusion. You should probably speak with the servants to clear the misunderstanding around the castle.

But Cheka once again surprised both you and Leona

“Now, you and Unca can sleep together again!”

The life of royalty is not easy.

[cephalophobic]

The Yunnan University Murders

From the 13th to the 15th of February 2004, 23 year-old Jiajue Ma bludgeoned four classmates with a hammer in his dormitory at Yunnan University.

One of his victims, Ruijie Shao, was a roommate of his. His other victims (Kaihong Yang, Bo Gong and Xueli Tang) resided in neighbouring dormitories.

As Ma would later confess, the killings were sparked by an altercation over a game of cards. His friend, Ruijie Shao, had accused him of cheating which eventually escalated into an argument where Shao described Ma as a bad person and made remarks about his poor family. Ma came from an impoverished rural family in a remote village in the Guangxi Region. His family's poverty was something that he had worked hard to overcome by performing extremely well academically and subsequently attending Yunnan University to study Biochemistry.

Ma claimed that he had faced consistent harassment surrounding his background from not only his friends, but several other classmates during his time at the university. It is likely that this was a sensitive subject for him.

During the argument Shao also implied that Bo Gong had not invited Ma to his birthday party due to his abrasive character. Ma was enraged by this disrespect and made plans to kill both Gong and Shao. He researched other murders on the internet then bought a hammer, tape and plastic bags as apparatus for his own murders. He also obtained a fake ID so that he would be able to go into hiding afterwards.

Ma told police that the only reason he had killed Yang and Tang was because they got in the way of his plans to attack Shao and Gong.

(left to right) Xueli Tang, Ruijie Shao, Kaihong Yang, Bo Gong

On the 13th, Ma was alone in his dormitory as Ruijie Shao had gone to stay with a friend. At some point, Xueli Tang came to the apartment and intended to stay the night. Once he was asleep, Ma struck him in the head with a hammer and killed him. He then wrapped his body in a black bag and hid it in a closet.

When Shao returned on the 14th, Ma struck him across the back of the head with the hammer and killed him. Ma also wrapped his body in a bag and stored it in a separate closet.

On the 15th, Kaihong Yang heard that Ma had returned to the university and came to the dormitory to play cards with him. Scared that Yang would discover the bodies, Ma killed him in a similar fashion, putting his body in a bag and hiding it behind a cabinet. Later in the day Ma invited Bo Gong to the apartment to play cards, to which Gong received the same fate as Yang. Gong's body was hidden behind another cabinet.

Over all three days Ma attended class as usual.

After the fourth murder, Ma boarded a train at Kunming station where he used his fake ID to travel anonymously.

The dormitory where the murders occurred

Throughout his life, Ma had been isolated from his peers and struggled to make friends. One of his primary school teachers, Zangyuan Ma, stated that he 'had few friends to play with' as a child. At home he also exhibited problematic behaviour. While speaking about his parents' arguments in his diary he wrote

"I am so angry that I really want to kill him with a knife. My only hope is that my father will die soon"

He later wrote that killing his father would not be worthwhile as he was 15 and so would not get out of prison until he was at least 25.

In November of 1999, at age 18, he ran away from school because he was afraid he would fail the Gaokao exam due to his slipping grades. He was found more than 50 kilometres away from the school by police after a few days.

At University he had not participated in any group events over the four years he had attended and frequently quarrelled with classmates. One student said the following when asked about him.

"All of us felt his mental problems because he always picked fault with others while never thinking he may have done wrong"

Jiajue Ma as a child

The victims' bodies were discovered on the 23rd of February after another student had complained of the smell coming from the dormitory. After police inspection, Ma was considered a prime suspect and an estimated 1.7 million police officers were deployed on a nationwide manhunt. Additionally, a 200,000 yuan (US$24,000) reward was set for information leading to his capture. The case was closely documented by news outlets and quickly became known nationwide due to the brutality of what had happened to the students. The following is an extract from an article published on the 12th of March 2004, three days before Ma's arrest.

"Producing Ma Jiajue posters has become something like a folk art, as new variations appear every day. The stock of images is limited, but this has not stopped people from rearranging and resizing them, posting multiple photocopies on lampposts, storefronts, and residential entry gates. The repetition looks like an Andy Warhol exhibition. Right now, Ma Jiajue is the best known man in Yunnan. If the Rolling Stones and the reunited Beatles were coming to town, complete with a revived John Lennon and George Harrison, the publicity could not be greater. I don't think the Second Coming would get this much attention."

A reward posting in a newspaper

After 21 days at large, on the 15th of March, Ma was apprehended in Sanya, Hainan Province. He confessed to all four of the murders immediately. In custody he showed little remorse. The following is an extract from a letter he sent to family during this time.

"I am sure that this matter has caused some very bad consequences for the whole family.  But I can no longer say that I am sorry. When you receive this letter, please forward my wishes to my parents --- you should ask my parents not to mind my business anymore.  I don't want to see them again.  I am no longer the person that I used to be.  As far as my parents are concerned, I know that no matter how tall or how big I've grown, they will always think of me as little number '12'.  But I have changed a lot, and when a person goes bad, there is no hope."

Ma was sentenced to death by the provincial high court of Kunming city and his date of execution set for the 24th of April 2004. He did not appeal his sentence. Prior to the verdict, Ma's sister requested the media that he undergo a second psychological assessment but this was dismissed as earlier examinations had shown he was not mentally ill. He was executed by shooting on the 17th of June 2004.

For the sake of consistency all names mentioned have been placed in the western format (forename first, surname last).

[sayafics]

Cherry Season - Part 1

Rick Grimes x OC

This contains smut

I've barely written smut before, so please be kind xx

Masterlist

Next Chapter

Valerie wasn't always a Greene. But she's been one for quite some time, even before the dead started walking.

Her parents owned a farm only minutes away from Hershel's. It had to have been years ago when she was just a small girl playing with Maggie and the chickens on Hershel's farm when they saw it.

Large, billowing clouds of thick, dark smoke shrouding the sky. Valerie remembers the look of horror that tore at Hershel's face, the gasp of dread Maggie's mother let escape past her lips as she ushered the girls inside.

The smoke was coming from her farm, her home.

Hershel had ran, gathering their neighbours as they brought buckets and hoses and anything else they thought could help. But when they had reached the farm, the fire had raked through it, burning the land and all its contents to ash.

When they managed to get the fire under control, there was nothing left to salvage. The earth had been wrought of life, the barn now dust and the house crumpled and broken.

It was under the boulders and wood that they found a happy couple holding each other in a tight embrace, the flesh melted off their bones which were charred under the heat of the fire.

Hershel liked to think they were at peace when they passed, finding comfort in each other's embrace.

But then he thought of the little girl in his home, of the brunette hair she shared with her mother, the tan skin and brown eyes of her father, the bashful grin she stole from them both and their mischievous twinkle - how could they be at peace, knowing they left a child to fend for her own in a world already cruel and harsh.

It was Maggie's mother who suggested the idea first, so motherly and so loving - she accepted the child as her own. Decades passed, and even as Maggie's mother passed into the next world, Valerie stayed on the Greene farm, growing into a fine young lady.

Valerie didn't remember much of her parents, or their farm. There was always a part of herself grateful for that, happy for the reprieve because it simply made it easier to live.

In Valerie's mind, she never lost a mother or a father because she was not old enough to remember them and whatever void their deaths had left had been quickly filled and cemented by Hershel and his first wife.

***

Valerie wasn't a shy girl in the slightest. She was bashful and awkward but never shy. So when Rick and his group had finally settled upon the farm, tents dotted around the land, campfires lit a soothing orange and friendly chatter bubbling through the air Rick simply could not wrap his head around it.

He had seen her talk with Dale, laugh with Glenn, exchange fruits and meats with Daryl in exchange for cross-bow lessons. He had seen her comfort Carol when she became overwhelmed over her missing daughter and sneak Carl sweets she had found during runs.

And yet, it seemed she couldn't stand to be in his presence. It seemed she skirted past his every attempt and dodged his every call, finding any excuse she could to be rid of his presence.

Rick thinks he shouldn't be upset. He had, after all, turned up on their front porch with his dying son in his arms and covered in blood - what a sight he must've made.

But still, there was something about this girl that intrugued him.

He knew of Hershel's beliefs when it came to the dead, the ignorance he held in his heart that he labelled as hope instead. Hershel did not want to kill the walkers, and neither did his children - apart from Valerie.

He heard the stories from Glenn, how she brought them down with ease, and used a knife as though it was an extension of her body.

It was as though she was made for a world like this, brought up to thrive in an apocalypse.

And yet, she dressed like that.

Normally, Rick would have no quarrels over how a woman dresses. And he was sure if this was Maggie or Beth, he probably still wouldn't.

But this was Valerie - sly, mischievous Valerie.

Valerie, who could take down a handful of walkers with ease. Who could scale buildings and ride horses and hotwire cars.

Valerie, who seemed so brave and independent, who ran from him at every turn.

And she dressed like this.

Whether it was her short skirts, tight tank-tops, frilly dresses, or sheer shirts.

Whether she was going on runs, going horse-riding, feeding the chickens - whatever it was, she dressed like this.

It wasn't practical, but dear God, was it a sight he couldn't take his eyes off of.

***

On his last run, Carol had insisted on joining. She wanted to escape the suffocated views of the farm as her worries for her daughter grew too much to bear. Rick relented with ease, deciding instead of going into town where he was sure the shops and departments would be too infested for his liking, they could wander the neighbouring homes.

They wandered through a small, abandoned home. The land around it wasn't as vast as Hershel's, but it was certainly large. Whilst Rick picked his way through the house, Carol ventured across the fields towards the bushes and trees, picking off fruits and vegetables, seeds and saplings wherever she could find them.

When Rick returned with an arm full of clothes and a bag full of supplies, he was surprised to see a beaming Carol with baskets full of peaches, pears, and cherries.

She held the basket of cherries out to him, "I heard Valerie loves cherries."

Rick quirked a brow, wondering why she felt the need to deign him with such information.

She grinned, mischief twinkling in her eyes, "I also heard she doesn't like you very much."

Carol pursed her lips at Rick's fallen expression, "she doesn't like me?"

"Come on, she runs whenever she sees you. I think she's just intimidated, but Glenn is sure she just doesn't like you."

Rick rolls his eyes, a huff escaping him as he pretends the words don't sting as much as they did. Still, he threw out his spare hand and stole the basket from her grasp.

He pretended not to notice Carol's silent laughter and shaking shoulders as he walked past her grumbling under his breath - if Valerie hadn't liked him before, she better like him now.

When they had returned from their run, Rick left Carol with their newly acquired items and left to find the girl who plagued his mind.

Rick's first stop was the chicken hut, knowing how she enjoyed feeding the belting animals and would spend every spare moment with them if she could.

When he found her there, he hesitated for a moment. His palms suddenly sweaty, lips twitching and thoughts racing at the sight of her.

She was dressed in a tight shirt, the material almost sheer as she sweat under the heat of the sun. She wore a skirt, something so impractical Rick almost tutted at the sight. But she moved with ease, comfortable in the way she dressed despite the grazes and scratches from the plants and thorns around her.

"Rick?"

Valerie's soft call broke him out of his reverie, and he looked caught off guard. He swallowed roughly, unsure of why he was here now.

"Rick?" Valerie called out again, her voice unsure as she watched the man stand awkwardly with something held tightly in his hands, "did you need something?"

She steps up to his slowly, eyes wide and earnest as she reaches out to wave a hand in front of his face.

Rick coughs, eyes darting around them as though he was making sure no one else saw the embarrassment he was making of himself.

"I- uh, I got something for you."

"For me?"

Surprise coloured her features, glowing bright under the high sun as her cheeks flushed at the confession.

"Well, actually, Carol found it. But it's for you. I wanted to give it. To you."

"Oh. Well, what is it?"

She peered up at him shyly, a wry smile playing upon her lips as she waited for him to answer. Rick held out a basket between them, it was small but filled to the brim and his knuckles blanched as he held it in a tight grip, as though he was afraid his hands would tremble and the basket would fall.

"You brought me cherries?"

There was a note of softness in her voice, and when he answered, Rick was sure he could hear a similar chime in his own - "Carol said they're your favourite."

A tentative smile pulled at her lips, gratuity filling her features, "they are. I don't even know how you found them. It's not even the right season for cherries. She must be one lucky person to have found these."

Rick still held the basket tight in his grip, unsure what to do now and feeling his ears flush red as his face heated under her stare.

It seemed she caught onto this, her smile growing into a broad grin as she took the basket from his hands and beamed up at him, "thank you, Rick. Really."

As her hands pulled the basket from his reach, her fingers brushed against his own, and Rick felt his breath wedge itself in his throat. He nodded vigorously, terrified his voice would break should he try to speak.

Valerie stood there for a moment, her eyes bouncing over his shoulder as she looked towards the house. Rick followed her gaze to find Hershel in a heated conversation with Maggie. He turned back to the girl, ready to say his goodbyes and leave.

Instead, Rick was met with a fluttering kiss pressed upon his cheek and the sight of a sheepish girl who reeled back from him quickly with frantic glances back at the house.

Rick felt a heat bubble in his chest - it was warm and calm and nice. Something he hadn't felt in so long.

A feeling he didn't realise he missed.

A feeling he didn't realise he needed.

Valerie skirted around him, skipping towards her father's beckoning figure and stern gaze. As she took a few steps away from him, she threw a playful smirk over her shoulders as she waved him goodbye.

Rick felt as though he couldn't move, gaze fixed upon her enticing form. He leered at the sight of her, the way her hips swung delicately under the ruffles of her skirt, they way her hair flowed under the whispers of the wind, the way her eyes glowed amber in the sunlight.

Rick didn't understand how she could dress so pretty in the midst of an apocalypse. But a small part of Rick, one that was dark and desperate and needy enjoyed it.

Perhaps that was why he had no quarrels in this moment now.

***

Rick had stayed up, working late into the night helping Hershel tidy away chores that were long neglected now that he had grown older and frail.

The hours passed by quick, the sun had sunk, and the moon rose. Everyone was tucked away in their tents and beds, except Rick.

He hesitated for a moment, cleaning his hands on his dirt-ridden jeans as he looked around him. In the dying embers of a fire, he could see the open flap of the tent Lori slept in - an invitation.

It would have been so easy to pretend Lori hadn't slept with Shane, that she wasn't pregnant with his child. It would've been so easy to go as he was and slip into the tent, drag himself onto the cot next to the woman he considered his wife, to close his eyes and hold her and just pretend everything was okay. Everything was normal.

That the world wasn't ending and the dead wasn't walking and his wife did not betray him.

It sounded easy.

Rick always did hate it when something was easy.

He gritted his teeth, glancing towards Hershel's house and the darkness that blanketed it. Hershel had told him he was able to come in whenever he needed, to wash up and clean his clothes in exchange for the work he was doing.

Rick had avoided the offer for quite some time, not wanting to take too much advantage of the man's kindness and only going in broad daylight.

But then his thoughts travelled to places sinful and dark, and he thought of how Valerie's bedroom sat right next to the bathroom and in the dead of night, one glimpse would not hurt her.

One glimpse would be enough for him.

He wondered to himself whether she slept in the same flimsy clothes she traversed the farm in or whether she didn't wear any at all. Perhaps her modesty showed in her sleep, and she was covered head to toe. Did she wear her hair loose and let it fall in graceful curls? Did she sleep peacefully, or was she just as restless as him - plagued by nightmares and horrific possibilities.

Rick was not sure when he made the conscious decision to walk in, but he found himself standing in Hershel's doorway, the door creaked as it swivelled open.

His steps were soft as he made his way to the staircase, so cautious to not make a ruckus, so careful to not wake her up.

A sound caught his ear, making his spine straighten and his shoulders raise as his head twisted in alarm.

He held his breath, listening again.

A light moan echoed across the darkness, a light and airy hum that replayed within his mind over and over until he could place the voice.

His body boiled with desire as he recognised the sweet voice - Valerie.

But why was she making such sounds? His heart almost sank, worry etching his features as he deliberated ideas that angered him and hurt him most. He followed the melodic sounds - footfalls quiet, unlike her.

He traced them to the kitchen, almost hesitating to step inside.

But when he did, Rick could feel the blood rush to his cock as it twitched in his jeans and stiffened.

Fuck.

It was all he could think.

There upon the counter, legs dangling off the side was Valerie.

She was dressed in a flimsy nightgown that was much too short as it skimmed the flesh of her upper thighs and left her legs bare for him to ogle at. The white satin made her look like an angel under the moonlit sky.

If he looked closely, he was sure he could make out her silhouette as the moonlight lit up her figure from behind.

His eyes traced her curves almost instinctively, slowing down as they passed over the swell of her breasts before pausing upon her puffy lips.

There she sat, in pure bliss eating the very cherries he brought her.

The juice dribbled past her lips, his eyes following as it ran down her fingers, dripped down her hands, and weaved down her arm to spill across the white nightdress - staining it a deep red in the shadows of the night.

As she reached for another, the juices dripped upon her bare thighs, slipping between the two as she paid no mind to the mess she made. She pit the cherries with her fingers, tearing it in half as juice spilt wherever her heart desired, before plunging them one by one slowly between her luscious lips.

Something had come over Rick in that moment.

Where he had been hesitant and shy, where he had been cautious and careful. Something feral washed over him at the sight of her, something so pure and pretty and messy.

Rick wanted her to be his mess.

Rick wanted to see his cum drip from her lips, wanted to see his seed paint the expanse of her thighs.

Rick wanted to hear her moan because of him.

Rick wants her.

He needs her.

And he needs her now.

"Hey sweetheart," his voice was gruff, drowning in the lust that raked at his body in endless waves.

Valerie startled, head flicked up as her wide eyes took in Rick's stance. He leaned against the doorway now, arms crossed as he raised a brow in her direction, "what are you doing up so late?"

She glanced down at her lap, the pretty white nightgown stained by her carelessness, her fingertips stained purple, and she was sure her lips were too. Valerie flushed under his gaze, embarrassment pinching at her cheeks as it sweeped its way down her neck and chest.

She was glad it was night, hopeful Rick couldn't see her burning skin in the rays of moonlight as she stumbled over her words - "Rick."

A subtle smirk tugged at his lips as his eyes darkened, "I like it when you say my name."

Her breath caught in her throat, her next words whispered as though she heard his challenge and wanted to take it, but was terrified all the same.

"Rick," a breathy call passed her lips, "what're you doing here?"

She fiddled with the ends of her gown, paying no mind to how it pinkened under the touch of her wet and sticky fingers as she tried to compose herself in front of Rick.

The truth was, she had been fascinated by the man from the moment she saw him - he was kind and loyal and fierce, there was a darkness in him that she yearned to unleash, a beast within him she longed to tame.

And it helped that he was devilishly handsome too.

But he is a married man.

Or at least he was. Before everyone on the farm found out about Shane and Lori.

She transgressed, at least one good thing had come of it - her apprehensions had been washed away, especially now watching him tremble with desire.

"Hershel asked for my help cleaning up. I just got finished, came to freshen up and head to bed," he nodded alongside his own words, as though he himself believed that was what he truly intended.

Rick tutted, looking deep into Valerie's eyes, his once sea-blue hues grew dark as his head became heady with lust - "but it seems like I'm not done cleaning up yet."

Valerie frowned, eyes earnest as she tilted her head in confusion, "what do you mean? Is there other stuff you have to do? It's really late, you need some rest Rick."

She sounded so concerned for his wellbeing, her lips puckering into a soft pout that Rick almost felt his heart swoon with giddiness as he refrained from shifting the bulge that grew stiff within his pants.

Rick stood up straight, stalking his way to the girl as she looked into his eyes with unabashed curiosity.

He came to stand in front of her, one of his hands reaching to skim his fingers across the bare flesh of her legs and watch as goosebumps broke over the surface - "there is other stuff I have to do, I gotta clean a big mess. You think you can help me?"

He tried to catch her gaze as she looked down at his wandering fingers, she hummed in thought before nodded in affirmation.

"Okay, but you have to do something for me first."

"And what's that, baby?"

Her eyes widened at the petname, cheeks flushing with heat as she ducked her head and fidgeted on her bottom. Rick took a step closer, wedging himself between her plush thighs as his hands clamped upon her waist to hold her still, "look at me when I'm talking to you."

Valerie's head had never snapped up so fast, her breaths ragged as she answered his previous question with a shy smile upon her face, "I want more cherries."

"Fuck," he breathed out, looking at the pretty little mess she was in front of him, sticky and wet with cherry juice staining every inch of her and already his mind began running rampant.

"I'll get you all the cherries you want, sweet girl."

She bit her lip softly, holding back a beaming smile as she shuddered at the pet names that fell off his lips so sweetly.

"So, what big mess did you have to clean up?"

Rick rubbed circles into her waist with his thumbs, eventually rubbing his hands up and down in small motions - "well, it's sitting right in front of me."

Valerie looked confused, a frown upon her lips, but Rick carried on - he dragged his hands up her thighs, tugging at the end of her nightgown as he tutted, "look at this mess. Such a pretty dress ruined, clumsy girl."

She looked down at her dress with wide eyes, unsure how to respond as an apology sat at the tip of her tongue.

Rick didn't give her an opportunity, dragging his hands up her stomach, gliding across her shoulders to her hands. He lifted them up to his face, eyes dark with lust, "and look at this," he shook his head lightly, a smirk upon his lips, "what a silly little girl. Getting stains everywhere, making herself so messy."

A whimper slipped out at his words, and she looked away from him, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Rick..."

She wasn't sure what she was going to say, wasn't sure whether she liked where this was headed or not, knowing that his wife was probably waiting for him to warm her bed instead.

"Valerie..."

He whispered her name so desperately, coming closer to brush the tip of his nose against her as he pressed her hands against his chest - the dusty, white henley soon had neat little impressions from her fingers upon them, stained pink by the cherries he brought her.

"We shouldn't do this."

Rick closed his eyes at her words, pressing his head against hers as he nodded, "I know," he spoke softly, "but I need you."

She pulled back at his words, eyes wide in surprise - "but... what about Lori?"

"Lori made her choices a long time ago. It's time I made some of my own," his hands gripped her hips tightly, pulling her towards the edge of the counter so she was flush against him, her legs wrapped around his waist almost instinctively and he groaned quietly as her clothed cunt, warm and wet, pressed against his hardened cock.

She gasped quietly at the sensation, her flimsy panties doing nothing to stop her from feeling the press of Rick's rough jeans and hard member grinding softly against her cunt as he took deep breaths to try and control himself.

"I want this. Do you?"

Valerie tilted her head up, eyes hazy with lust as she looked from his heavy eyes to his parted lips as he took slow, meaningful breaths. She thought of every moment Rick caught her eye, every time she touched herself at the thought of him, every glance and every whisper, every touch and every hesitation.

She nodded vigorously, "please."

Rick surged towards her lips at the whine, capturing them in a soft kiss as he drew his hands towards her jaw and cradled her face softly. He grew frenzied, the kiss growing rough as he lost himself in the taste of her cherry-flavored kiss, her soft lips, and her teasing tongue.

Soft moans poured from her lips, and he swallowed every single one.

Valerie wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as her legs tightened around his waist - she canted up her hips, breath catching at the sensations that buzzed through her.

"Fuck," Rick groaned, hands slipping into her hair as he tugged her locks and pushed into her relentless grinding, "you feel so good, baby."

"Want more," she panted, head thrown back as he peppered kisses down the column of her throat, "please Rick, need more."

"Anything you want, sweetheart."

They fumbled with clumsy fingers, Valerie reaching to undo his belt and unzip his jeans as he bunched up the nightgown around her waist and ripped off her panties off.

Rick paused for a moment, Valerie watching him in amusement, a heavy blush spreading across her face as he stuffed the damp panties into his back pocket.

"You do know someone's going to find that, right?"

"I have nothing to be ashamed of."

He bore a wide grin as he pulled her closer once more. This time, his kisses trailed over her shoulder, down her chest to flutter around her soft thighs.

He looked up at her, hunger raked across his face, "lie back for me, sweetheart. And try to keep quiet, will you?"

There was a teasing smirk upon his face, one that made her hold her breath as she fell back against the cold counter, hands covering her face as his hot breath puffed against her throbbing pussy.

It twitched as he blew lightly upon it, the sight causing him to groan as he laid a kiss upon her clit - Valerie sucked in a sharp breath, hips lifting only to be held down against the counter by Rick.

He tutted into the softness of her thighs, nipping at the flesh, "not happening, baby. You keep still and you keep quiet, y'hear me?"

The authoritative rasp of his voice sent a shiver down her spine as she nodded vigorously, "I'll be good, Rick. I promise."

"Yeah? You promise? What a good girl," he teased her clenching cunt, fingers brushing her across her folds as he collected her wetness upon his fingers.

"God, look at you. So wet, so perfect. You're so good for me," Valerie couldn't help the quiet moan that escaped her, nor her aching whispers.

"Rick, please. I- I need... I need mo-"

Her voice cut into a harsh whine, hips lifting off the table as Rick dove into the folds of her cunt with hungered vigor - he lapped across her folds, slow circles around her entrance and suckling upon her clit.

Valerie's hands locked into his hair, tugging and pulling as she pushed her pussy further into his face, trying to get him deeper, trying to get more.

She threw her head back, moans escaping her unabashedly as the thought of her father and sisters asleep upstairs had slipped her mind, and Rick's long and thick fingers slipped into her tight hole.

"C'mon, baby. You want me to fuck you with my fingers? Hmm? Or do you want my cock instead?"

Valerie's head twisted from side to side, eyes closed as she panted heavily under his ministrations, his voice almost muffled as he laved at her folds and drank her juices like it was nectar.

She could feel his smirk flush against her folds, could feel his grip tighten momentarily before-

A cold air washed over her, a petulant whine escaping her lips as Rick's head parted from her glistening pussy.

"Rick..." she reached for him with desperate hands, only for him to dodge them with an amused stare, "what are you doing? I need more," her hips canted up towards him, the sight so enticing he almost gave in.

Almost.

He tutted, head tilted in faux disappointment - "but you didn't answer my question. And little girls who don't listen, don't get to cum."

"That's not fair," Valerie sat up, tears welling in her eyes with desperation as her pussy throbbed against the cold counter. She shuddered with arousal as she felt a bout of slick and spit drip from between her legs, hips moving almost instinctively into the puddle that lay on the counter between her legs.

A sharp slap brought her back from her sinful thoughts, "keep still."

Rick was closer now, hands on either side of her as he leaned closer - his nose almost touching hers.

"Answer the question, baby. And I'll give you what you want."

"I need you, Rick. So bad, it hurts," her voice was whining, hands reaching for his unzipped jeans and slipping inside to hold his hardened member in her delicate hands. She tugged at it, suppressing a smile at the pool of precum that had leaked from his tip and using it to speed up her ministrations.

Rick clenched his eyes shut, his moving into the palm of her hand with sharp thrusts, "don't you want me, Rick? Don't you wanna fuck me? I want you to fuck me, Rick. I need your cock so bad, can I have it? Please?"

Rick found it hard to snap back to reality, her voice in his ear and her hand on her cock was almost too much for him. His hips stuttered as she tightened her grip and his movements became sloppier as the seconds passed, "what happened, Rick? Are you gonna cum? Hmm? All because of me? Do I make you feel good, Rick?"

He didn't know how he had lost control so quickly, but as he threw his head back, groaning yes's and violent pleas, he knew he didn't care. He yanked Valerie forward, gripping her hair tightly as he thrust his cock into her fist and crashed his lips against hers.

Rick moaned against her lips, a final grunt as he went into a spiral of bliss and came in her hands. He tucked his head into her neck, teeth bared against her skin as he sunk his teeth into her soft and supple flesh, hips slowing down as he groaned softly.

"Shit, baby. I was supposed to make you cum."

She giggled into his neck, hand never leaving his still-hard cock, "you still can."

She guided his cock to her puffy cunt, dragging the tip against her clit with stuttered breaths, "see how good that feels. Don't you wanna be inside me? C'mon Rick, I need you to fuck me. I need your cock."

"Shit. Yeah, baby. I'll fuck you, I'll fuck you so good you won't be able to walk tomorrow."

Rick slid his hands under her thighs, picking her up as she wrapped her legs rightly around his waist. Her hands reached into his hair, tugging on his curls as she brought him into a desperate kiss.

She moaned as he slipped him tongue into her mouth, letting him win the battle of dominance this time.

Rick steered them towards the dining table, every move careful and quiet so Hershel didn't walk in on Rick tainting and ruining his little girl.

He sat heavily in the chair at the head of the table, tugging Valerie down by the throat to hold her even closer as his hips grinded against hers.

"Do you want this?"

She nodded vigorously, tracking kisses down his neck until she found a sweet spot behind his ear that could him keen and groan.

He tugged her head back with a growl, "I asked you a question, do you want this?"

"Yes, yes, yes," her echoed words were frenzied as she shifted upon his lap, her cunt sliding across his cock with hurried desperation - "please fuck me, Rick. I need it so badly."

"Fuck, look at you. Don't even care that your dad's upstairs, do you? Shit, I bet if I asked you to scream for me you would, right?"

"Anything - I'll do anything. Please, Rick."

Rick's lips twitched in amusement at her words but still he gave in oh, so easily.

He held her waist, breath catching as she gripped his leaking cock and guided it to her clenching entrance. Valerie leaned her head against Rick's, eyes twitching closed as she pushed herself down onto his thick member.

They held their breaths, a low whine escaping Valerie as she tried to push herself down further. Rick, in a scramble, gripped her hips tightly enough to bruise, giving an almost animalistic thrust as he bottomed out.

A synchronised moan left them both, holding each other desperately as Valerie bounced on his cock in slow, drawn out moves.

Rick had his head thrown back, eyes focused upon the beauty in front of him - the only thing he regretted was not doing this sooner.

If he knew cherries were all he needed to have her so pliant within his arms, he would have brought a truck full just to see her like this.

His hands slipped under her nightdress, skimming across her skin until he found her breasts. He reached behind her back, tugging her forward as he mouthed at her breasts through the pretty satin, groaning at the sight of his spit turning the material sheer.

Valerie tried to keep her voice down, so scared someone could walk down and that they would have to stop.

She didn't want to stop.

Her nails embedded themselves in Rick's shoulders, slipping under his shirt to feel every slip of skin she could find. There was a part of her that wanted him marked as her own, red scratches and dark hickeys proving she owned him in this moment as much as he owned her.

She ground against him, chasing her own high as Rick's thrusts became sloppy once more. They moved in a crazed frenzy of heated kisses and whines and moans, until a white hot flash crashed over them both causing them to whisper sinful moans into each other's mouth as they share a soft kiss.

Valerie stays on Rick's lap, his soft cock still inside of her, their cum mixed and pooling between her legs as he tried to stuff her full of it. She ground her hips softly, whimpering at the over-stimulation but not wanting to stop.

This felt good.

Really good.

She laid her head tiredly on Rick's shoulder, head lolling as she panted softly into the crook of his neck.

Rick's arms were wound around her, holding her pliant body firmly against his own as he relished in the warmth between her legs.

He sighed softly, "let's clean you up and get you to bed."

"Don't wanna go bed."

He snorted quietly, "Well, I don't wanna be caught by Herlshel balls deep in his daughter because we both accidentally fell asleep in the dining room."

She couldn't help the giggles that escaped her, "yeah, papa would murder you."

"Oh, yeah? And what about you?"

"He'd put me on chicken-duty," her words were so sure that he couldn't help his grin.

"You love the chickens though."

She leaned back to stare at him, a proud smile on her face, "he doesn't know that."

Rick shook his head with a smile, and Valerie smiled softly.

"Stay the night. With me."

Rick looked into her eyes, dark and quiet, hopeful and trusting. He probably should have gone back to the tent, should have felt guilt for his actions and confessed to Lori and asked her to start over after they both betrayed each other.

But in Valerie's warm embrace, there was no guilt. No pressure, no responsibilities. Simply content.

"I'll stay."

***

The pair lay in bed, holding each other in a tight embrace. Rick felt as though he could finally relax, as though the world had quietened for the first time since he woke up in that hospital bed.

Valerie lay pressed against his side, her legs tangled with his as she traced messy shapes onto his bare skin.

"You're thinking"

Her voice was soft, no judgement and no demand for him to have to reply.

Rick pulled her closer, tugging her to lie her across his chest as he burrowed his face in her hair - "everything going on with Lori - with Shane, it's already so complicated. And now, this? I feel like I'm making things worse."

"Oh." Her voice was quiet, and Rick wasn't sure if that was because she was hurt by his words or because she thought the same.

He continued, words spilling out now that he had started talking, "but the worst bit is, I don't feel guilty. I don't feel bad. About any of this. I want this. I just don't know how I'm going to explain it to Carl."

"Oh," her tone was understanding now, hands pressed upon his chest as she heaved herself up to sit on his lap so she could look him in the eyes. Still in that cherry-stained dress of hers, and she looked like an angel in the moonlight.

"Rick you can't be so hard on yourself, it's like you said - Lori made her choices. Carl might not understand now, but he will one day."

"How is he supposed to understand that his sister is not my child?"

"Oh, Rick..." she couldn't begin to understand the feelings that swamped him, the betrayal that stung deep even after he moved on from her - this wasn't just about Lori sleeping with his best friend, this was having a child with him but expecting Rick to be the father.

"I'm so sorry, Rick."

His eyes were misty, his chest heavy as the weight of the last few weeks threatened to crush him.

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Valerie's lips parted. She licked lips in hesitation, "you're still going to take care of the baby, right?"

There was a pause as Rick stared at her with incredulity, surprised she would even ask such a thing, especially after all they had done. He thought she would want him for herself and away from Lori and everything that had to do with her.

"I know you said Lori's baby wasn't yours, but it's still Carl's baby sister or brother. When mama first brought me home, papa couldn't even look at me because I reminded him of his friends who died - he didn't want me. The only time he tried was when he saw how much Maggie loved me, and then slowly he did too. Carl's too young to understand what Lori did, as far as he's concerned that baby is his sibling, and your child."

Rick closes his eyes as though his heart clenched with misery and dread knowing every word she said was true, and Valerie slid across his body to hold him in a soft embrace. Rick wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her body to his own as she whispered into his ear, "you're a good father, Rick. You're probably the only person here who can keep that baby safe."

They both knew what she meant by that - Shane would get them killed.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Rick didn't know how much he had been needing to hear those words - to know that to raise the child didn't make him a fool or a coward, it made him a good father. To Carl.

And that was what was important.

They fell asleep in each other's embrace, Rick's mind so quiet that he wasn't plagued by nightmares or foul thoughts in his sleep. There was a ghost of a smile upon his face as he breathed in the scent of strawberries and mint from the girl who held him so tightly. It almost felt like Rick was still alive.

Like he hadn't been shot and left in a hospital bed to die.

Like he hadn't woken up amongst the dead.

***

Valerie wakes up to soft kisses being scattered across her face, trailing lower as she sighs into the dark sky.

The sun hadn't rose yet, but it was warm where she lay.

Her hands drifted to Rick's hair, petting him as he continued his fluttering kisses and traced his way back to her face.

He pressed soft kisses against her lips - again, and again, and again. She laughed softly at the attention, reaching up to reciprocate his kisses until they fell into one deep and passionate.

"I should probably go," but from the way he kept pressing tantalising kisses across her skin, she had a feeling he didn't want to.

***

The day passed by slowly, and it was like a breath of fresh air had seeped into the farm.

Valerie and Rick skirted around each other as they always had, except lustful and loving glances replaced what had previously been longing and wistful gazes.

Every smile and every touch held a new sense of exhilaration as they kept their relationship a secret from others.

Day by day, Valerie had said.

To make it easier for Carl, Rick had said.

They used every opportunity to be near each other, whether Rick offered to take her out on runs, or she offered him a glass of lemonade as he worked in the heat, when Rick brought Carl with him to see the chickens saying it was son's idea and not his, or when Valerie would wake up in the dark hours of night to keep Rick company on his watch.

Everyone was oblivious to the change, thinking that Carol's tactics of bringing cherries had been enough to warm Valerie up to Rick and that they were friends.

But Lori knew better.

So did Shane.

He saw the deep red scratches on his friends arms and back, saw the hickeys he didn't try to hide, saw his wandering eyes, and possessive hands.

Lori couldn't say a word, not when she was growing round and heavy with another man's child.

Shane, on the other hand, grew crazed with anger. Crazed with jealousy.

Lori had said no to him at every turn, had denied him his child and her body now that her husband had risen from the dead.

So when they had found the farm, Shane found himself enticed by the little minx Hershel called his daughter. Wanted to break her and ruin her and make her his.

But Rick had taken her too.

Just like he took Lori.

Just like he took Carl.

Just like he took Shane's baby.

Shane wasn't a second-choice. He was better than Rick.

He would do everything he had to, to protect those he loves. Rick can't do that - he was a coward, stuck in the echoes of a world that no longer exists.

Shane wouldn't let him have this, too.

It wasn't fair.

This was his.

Valerie was his.

***

It was around lunchtime now. The group sat scattered across the field as they dove into their rations for the day. Rick wiped the sweat from his forehead with a damp rag, his stomach growling in hunger.

But his eyes caught the sight of Hershel's house and he thought of how his family had probably already had lunch. He thought of how if Valerie wasn't grazing through the fields of the farm then she was most likely in her room.

Rick suddenly thought he was in need of a long, hot shower.

He bit back a laugh at the idea, speeding towards Hershel's home with hidden intentions and sinful thoughts.

When Rick had come across her room, he frowned in confusion as he found the girl was nowhere in sight.

He stepped out hesitantly, shrugging as he thought he may have simply just missed her on his walk to the house and got into the shower instead.

Rick would find her after.

***

Only a few metres away, at the edge of the woods Shane urged the girl to walk ahead of him with a manic grin - "'mon, I'm telling you. I saw one."

Valerie shook her head in amusement, "Shane, there is no way you saw a bear in the woods."

"Yes I did. If you would just follow me, then you'd see."

"I am following you, but if you are telling the truth then I would rather not get mauled by a bear."

He scoffed as though she had said something dumb and stupid, "nah, you'll be fine. Saw 'em eating."

Valerie frowned, pausing in her steps as she turned to face him. She stumbled a step back when she found Shane was much closer than she expected, her back hitting a tree as she looked around his looming, broad figure to see they were too deep in for her to see the farm from here.

A sense of unease settled in her gut - "what were they eating?" She was worried some of the wildlife might have been attacked and torn to shreds by such a beast, a cantankerous predator in the face of such small prey.

He gave her a leering grin, leaning closer so she could feel his hot breath as he spoke, "cherries."

Valerie swallowed roughly - it's not cherry season.

[oddeyecir-cle]

 ✶ ˖  ࣪  📹 .  ぅ

lee donghyuck enemies to lovers fic ideas (all fics are haechan × reader)

haechan who is your rival coworker + secretly deadpool

for the sake of this story, lets assume deadpool does hide his identity. he works at a tech company and is constantly beefing with his coworker that he's lowkey attracted to. and the plot could maybe be something like you accidentally finding out his identity and then using that information to slightly/ kind of/ in a non-toxic way blackmail him. eg: making him run errands for you, asking to tag along on his quests as deadpool. then the pair gets closer through all the time they spend together etc etc.

✶ note : hyuck HAS to be the sassiest, funniest, most sarcastic, cocky human being ever. also include some spidermark maybe

haechan as the prince of the neighbouring kingdom

historical au. very basic ik but hear me out. your kingdom's glory and power is gradually draining and it's threatened by multiple rivaling kingdoms. that is when your mother, the queen, tells you there is no choice but to turn to hyuck's kingdom for help. you hate the idea but you know everyone's counting on you so you go through with it anyways. (this is historical so there could be a very cool scene of the reader riding on a horse in battle armour to neighbouring kingdom's palace themself but whatever). they're good, kind people so they agree to help you. they send over a part of their military along with some weapons and of course haechan himself, their most prized possession who, like you, is skilled with a sword and is a wise leader. there's lots of quarrels between the both of you when it comes to the topic of which one has more power over the other and about who should be leading the troops. but you soon put your animosity aside when you realize that you have to work as a team to win. (insert dramatic battle sequence with swords and arrows flying around. at one point, you and haechan lock eyes and suddenly he drops to the ground. the world starts to blur around you when you realize he's been stabbed in his back. you frantically rush to his aid but he falls limp in your arms. its now upto the writer to kill him there itself and end the story. very angsty, i love. or they could also save him somehow and give main characters the happy ending they deserve).

 ✶ note : sloooooowwwww buuuurn. i mean this should be a long ass series with 7k+ words per chapter. should be so heavy on the angst and the hate that it makes you wonder if they do actually end up loving each other in the end. please include sword fighting scenes with sexual tension i beg you. (im big on bollywood, can u tell).

haechan as a stranger/ tour guide you meet on a family trip

you've just gotten out of a 3 year long relationship after your boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend. things get worse when your family, unaware of your breakup, forces you on a 2 week trip to *insert destination of choice" . here you meet the annoying, sarcastic, a-little-too-happy-for-his-own-good donghyuck. he is with the group your family is touring with (him being the tour guide is a pretty cute plot too but it could kind of complicate things later) and instantly wins everyone over with his charm, except you of course. in classic hyuck fashion, he tries to keep getting your attention and eventually succeeds. his company helps ease the pain of the heartbreak he didn't even know about. its bittersweet when it's time to part ways. you realise after you come back to your college dorm that you never exchanged phone numbers and you fail to find him on social media as well. but fate has strange ways of bringing people together. which is why you cant stop smiling when crash into a certain someone during a regular grocery run.

✶ note : more on the fluff and less on the angst for this one. and maybe a dash of slice of life as well.

haechan as captain of the football team.

there is no actual plot for this other than the fact that you're a cheerleader and also his academic rival (there is no trope i love more than this). my vision for this is very 2000s romcom. ik this isn't a lot to work with but there could be some sub trope like fake dating mostly.

✶ note: nothing much just make it cute

+i have a few more ideas, will probably make a part 2

++if in the future, by some miracle, people do find these interesting enough to use, please dont forget to credit me!!

[bits-and-babs]

✦ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 4: APHRODISIACS

grand admiral thrawn x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words

summary: grand admiral thrawn has a unconventional way of convincing neighbouring planets to pledge allegiance to the empire.

cw: f!princess!reader, aphrodisiacs/sex pollen vibes so dub-con, fingering, cum eating, political mind games.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 5: CLOTHES ON ⇾

Perhaps others in your position would consider you a coward. The rebel alliance had pushed a revolutionary manifesto that had bled into the heart of each Empire-subjugated civilian in the galaxy, many taking up arms against the gigantic fleet of storm-trooper manned ships. 

However, lacking a large military and without weaponry or manpower, your small planet lay at the mercy of the Empire leviathan. The decorative crown placed atop your head was just that— embellishment. The significance of your birthright was as vexing to Grand Admiral Thrawn as a speck of dust on his pristine white uniform. A simple brush of his palm enough to toss any resistance aside. 

The hologram Thrawn sent you upon arrival to your galaxy was intended as an olive branch, one you gratefully received. A promise of clemency on the condition that you attend a dinner upon the Chimaera warship. 

“Princess,” Thrawn muses as he walks you towards the vast dining table, his own body language almost regal as he directs you to your seat, “I hope you don’t mind that I took liberty with the selection of delicacies I provided.” 

You had no quarrel; it was like a feast mosaic. Gorgeous, vibrant pomegranates split down the middle to expose the glistening seeds, strawberries doused in dark chocolate and shucked oysters fanned out on a plate of salt. 

“I am grateful for anything you provide, Grand Admiral,” you answer him politely as he pulls out a chair for you. You sit with a small smile, attempting to appease the man that balanced your planet’s fate on the end of his trigger finger. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Thrawn’s lips pull up in a smirk, the silky timbre of his voice dripping like molasses off the edge of your spine, warming something deep in your abdomen that makes you blush. 

Without ceremony, he settled in his seat across the table. Those crimson eyes pass over your frame with a gaze so heavy it’s as though you feel it dance across your skin, leaving flames in its wake. 

“I recommend the oysters, your highness,” he addresses you respectfully with your title. “Freshly farmed a few hours ago.” 

Upon his insistence, you began to feast. A polite silence falls between you, Thrawn’s eyes set on you as he watches you relish the flavour of the delicate oysters. He looks pleased. 

You cannot deny the warmth that creeps across your skin the longer he looks at you. Thrawn's presence makes you almost dizzy, but the fear that had prickled at the base of your neck when you had been informed of his arrival had been replaced with something far more titillating. 

“I must offer you my appreciation for your willingness to collaborate with the Empire, your highness, Thrawn praises you while you take a moment to sip the red wine you had been offered upon arrival. “I think you will find that I serve at your pleasure.”

“So it would seem,” you smile weakly, glancing across the table top. Pomegranate, oysters, wine. Your mind felt numb, slow to connect the thread that ran through each item— a singular quality they all shared. 

“I wish to assure you of my commitment to ensuring you and your people are appropriately cared for,” Thrawn continues, elegantly standing from his seat at the head of the table and approaching where you sat like a Groundlion; a creature you knew belonged to the Chiss star system. “That our relationship continues to develop organically.” 

The air around you vibrates as he approaches, your heart lurching. You had not failed to note the double meaning and slight innuendo to his comments. Flush paints your cheeks when you feel the slick wetness between your thighs, unable to look the Chiss in the eyes as he stands before you. 

The Grand Admiral’s azure palm takes hold of your chin gently, tilting your head back and forcing you to look him in the eye. He’s poised, ice cold and stoic while he watches you burn up. “Don’t you agree?”

Pomegranate, wine, oysters. Pomegranate. Wine. Oysters. 

Thrawn’s fingertips glide down your throat, tracing the dip of your sternum down down beneath your naval, leaving a devastating trail of arousal in the wake of his feather-light touch. 

Pomegranate. Red Wine. Oysters. 

Aphrodisiacs. 

“Ah—“ you gasp the moment the word comes to mind, Thrawn’s fingertip brushing the curve of your sex and finding against your swollen, throbbing clit through the layers of fabric. Your eyes roll back, knuckles bleaching as he steadily and oh so easily works his hand beneath your skirts. Each motion is fluid, as easy as breathing. 

“Apologies, your highness,” Thrawn spoke, his timbre even and mind-bendingly steady in comparison to your broken breaths of ecstasy. His fingers work through your folds, spreading your pussy lips and collecting your slick across his cerulean fingerprints. “I didn’t quite catch your reply.” 

There’s a vague cruelty to his tone, enjoying your suffering. His eyes are glued to your expression, watching it crumple with desperation as he removes his touch from your sex raising his slick-drenched fingers to his lips and relishing in the taste when he presses the digits to his tongue. 

Your chest heaves, utterly undignified with your thighs still spread in the hopes he’ll touch you again, trembling with need. Grand Admiral Thrawn’s eyes slip closed with a quiet hum of appreciation, removing his fingers from his tongue. 

“Exquisite,” he husks, eyes dropping to you once more. 

“Please—“ you beg him, far beyond the political ramifications and the threat of being labelled a co-conspirator. 

“A princess should not beg,” he scolds you with an even tone, his hand easily working itself between your thighs once again, immediately finding your swollen clit and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. It’s tortuous, your body practically folding in on itself at the devastating arousal that causes slick to leak down your thighs. “She should command her subject. Demand their service.” 

You cannot even muster a plea of mercy, rocking your hips forward to grind your clit against his knuckles. He appears to savour the way pleasure contorts your expression, your brows knitting together and jaw falling slack as you chase the high that had so suddenly threatened to burst through you like a blaster charge. 

“It would appear that we are destined to have a successful working relationship, your highness,” Thrawn muses, the flat expression on his face doing little to hide the gleeful glint in his eye at just how easy it was to reduce you to a trembling wreck. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

You have no time to answer, no chance to even suck air into your lungs before your vision goes white. Pure hot plasma bursts through your abdomen, running hot and thick like the magma on Mustafar. Sobbed wails of Thrawn’s name, sans his title pour from your lips as you grasp desperately at his wrist, drawing crimson blood from his cobalt wrist when you dig your nails in. 

Over the roar of the blood in your ears, rapid heart pounding in your ears as Thrawn continuous to torture your clit through the orgasm that threatens to obliterate you, you hear a twinge in the Grand admiral’s voice. Smug. 

“So it would seem.” 

star wars/kinktober taglist:

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog1 @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @saradika @mylifeisactuallyamess

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

[javaghoul]

TG characters & who's out listening to the neighbours arguing again

Koma is the meme of the guy vacuuming the driveway. Any excuse to get nearer to the action.

As soon as he works out it's not ghoul related, Amon closes the window. He doesn't wanna hear this shit.

Itori doesn't know who Louise is, but wants to. She sounds like a party. Recognises the subtle slur of inebriated angry women.

Hide is a little averse to arguments, as is Ken. The former doesn't enjoy hearing others' misery, and the latter finds it a bit triggering.

Neighbourly arguments are a goldmine for Eto. If it isn't gossip, it's inspiration for her novels.

Nishiki acts like he's above it, but when he hears that Mr Neighbour has been shagging everything on the street he's listening.

When it sounds like the neighbours aren't tiring themselves out, Yomo will knock doors. Mostly to get them to stfu, but also to make sure everything's ok (especially if the neighbour has kids in the house).

Tsukiyama has missed out on the experience of noisy neighbour fights ☹️

Roma, Suzuya, Uta and Nico are out on the street feet away from the quarrelling couple encouraging them. They choose sides too.

Touka is a slams-the-window-loudly kinda person. If she wanted to listen to bullshit, she'd have stayed at work.

Saiko sleeps through the entire thing, but wonders why her neighbour is camped out in their car the next morning.

[spicyclover]

Cutting through my broken heart

Summary: You and Pierre are living together after his apartment got flooded. He thought he knew you very much until he discovered something horrible.

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: mention of suicide, mention cuts, blood and blades. Dramatic backstory. 

If you need help, please go TALK to someone, anyone! It’s the first step to getting better, I promised you. I send unconditional LOVE and POSITIVE thoughts to everyone struggling with difficult times. You are NOT alone!

Pierre’s apartment seeped with water, which caused a lot of damage to the ceilings, the ground and the structure of the building. As a result, he was forced to evacuate his home and seek refuge while renovations were being carried out.

Fortunately, his childhood best friend lives only a few steps away from his home, and he was able to move in with her without a problem. Her apartment is much smaller than his, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t want to go to a hotel anyway.

The weeks of cohabitation went relatively well. He follows her off-season training, and she continues her art study classes.

Pierre always found her super exciting and passionate. As soon as she talks about art, she gets lost in her universe, which drives him crazy. To see her eyes light up when she speaks of Monet, Salvador's Dalí, Van Gogh or Rembrandt.

Or when she forces him to come with him to exhibitions. He loves museums but to the point of spending all his Sunday afternoons doing that... Yet, for her, he does.

It’s crazy that when he thinks about it. He never notices her distress.

He never noticed that she never wore a short-sleeved shirt, always long sleeves. He never noticed how little her appetite was. He never saw the nasty look of her classmates whenever he came to pick her up. 

The handkerchiefs of blood are in the bathroom bin. The razor blade was placed prominently in the pharmacy box, the many stained sweaters. Tears and especially suffering in her eyes.

She can’t remember when she started... it was in the early years of college. The long hours of work, the hatred of her comrades, and the quarrel with her parents, she no longer what triggered this vicious circle.

If found her one day, barely alive, on the bathroom floor. The blood flowed from her handles in abundance, and, as always, she waited for the pain to pass. Only that day, the pain was too present and painful to replace.

He called her name, but she was barely conscious. He took her in his arms, screaming for help. It was the next-door neighbour who called the fire department after she stormed into the bathroom. Peter’s cheeks were filled with tears, and he could not do anything else.

“Why, Stella, why?” He whispers in her ear, kissing her temple. 

“It’s... it’s... it’s okay,” she responds, barely aware. 

“Don’t leave me...” Those were the last word she heard from him before being taken by the ambulance. 

Several months passed, and Stella always refused Pierre to come and visit her and she did not want to see his gaze lost in misunderstanding and love. Despite all her love for him, Pierre has never been a consistent person in her life. Always part of the four corners of the world, he doesn’t have time to constantly check-in.

During the long months of her convalescence, she spent them with her parents in the south of France. Far from Milan, far from her comrades and especially far from him. She will never confess to him, but that evening, she was in this state partly because of him. An umpteenth rumour and an umpteenth photo of Pierre in the arms of a pretty girl were overcome by her fragile mental health.

“Falling for him wasn’t falling at all. It was walking into a house and suddenly knowing you’re home.” She adds to her speech.

The psychologist nods his head, writing carefully in his notebook. 

This is undoubtedly the eleventh session they spend on Pierre, and this is the first time she allows herself to speak of him as someone she loves. A true love.

“Could you think of seeing him again?” Ask the doctor carefully.

“I wish I could explain to him how he makes me feel, and I guess the closest I can get to it would be to say that; he makes me feel good while, at the same time, breaking my heart.” 

After that session, she thought long and hard about picking up her phone and dialling his number, but she felt like she was taking several steps back if she made that decision. So she didn’t. She never called him or answered the thousands of messages he left her.

Pierre spent the last few months trying to find out where Stella was, but no one in her family answered him, leaving him in a cloud of gray. He returned several to the apartment, hoping to see her sitting in front of her painting. Yet every time he walked through that door. It was the cold and the silence that they welcomed him as an old friend.

He finally tidied up his things and went back to pursue his dream, bringing with him a little piece of her. An old sweater, too oversized, from Milan college that still smells like her. She wore it all the time when they were living together, and it was her favourite. 

He once asks her about it, and she only responds, “Every time I wear it, I think of you. For me, Pierre, you are Milan.”

He didn’t respond anything, just looked at her watching some fireworks. That’s when he knew he loved her. 

It’s a May afternoon, and she decided to take a few days off from the family home to watch the boats on the port of Monaco. Hundreds of Yachts turn between them and around the dock while waiting to return, a truly magnificent spectacle. The city is preparing to receive the Grand Prix next week, so hundreds of people are already present. She didn’t think about this event coming here, which made her sad.

Thought of the Grand Prize comes to the thought of Pierre, yet no negative thought tarnishes her day. It was only when walking back to the car that her heart stopped.

There he is, a few meters from her, next to his car, talking with his friends.

Her heart stops, and her head goes crazy. Unable to move, it is only when Pierre looks at her that she finds the use of her legs. She flees through the harbour to find a place to hide forever.

Pierre’s heart is racing, and he does not hesitate a single blow before running after her. She is there in the flesh. Skin more radiant than ever, hair more voluminous than ever, and especially a beautiful strapless dress.

They run around, passing tourists and locals, him shouting her name.

He eventually caught her at the end of a pontoon. Unable to escape further, she was trapped.

“You’re not gonna jump, are you?” He asks in a humorous tone before he safely advances to her.

“Am thinking about it.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“No...”

“Yes, every day since that day, I think of you. I dream of you.”

“Stop...”

“Je t’aime, Stella.” He says while stroking her cheeks. “Every day... I’ve tried so hard to come to see you, but they never let me in.”

“I know... I ask them to.” 

“What? Why?” He asks, confused. 

“Meeting you, Pierre, was like listening to a song for the first time and knowing it would be my favourite.” Says Stella taking a deep breath. “Since the day we met at this primary school, I loved you. You are my first love, Pierre. And I can’t bear that I’ll never be the one for you. You have so many pretty girls around you every time, and I’ll never be like them. I’ll never be popular. I’ll never be prettier or funnier than hers. And I can’t go back to where I was. I need to move on, Pierre. I need to...”

“Stella! Stella! Stella,” he shouts, taking her chin up.

“What?”

“You have a place in my heart no one else ever could have, but we can be together until you are better. You need to be strong and brave. I can’t be the one helping you ‘cause I'll lose the sense of everything. You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars, Stella.” Tears in his eyes while looking at her tears.

“No, we can’t be together. No now. No, never.”

“I...”

“Je t’aime Pierre, mais j’ai trop travaillé pour que tu me brises le coeur une nouvelle fois. Je ne peux pas le prendre. J’ai besoin de quelqu’un de présent et d’attentif, de patient et de fidèle...” She adds taking his hands off. “We are endgame. Goodbye Pierre, maybe in another life.”

“Stell...” 

This time he didn’t go after her. He watched her walk away. Tears always run down her cheeks, but he knows he can’t do that to her, not after what she’s been through. He has to let her go even if his heart is broken, even if she took a piece of his heart with him. 

‘Only knew he loved her when he let her go.

And he let her go.’ Let her go, Passenger.

[taikouvember]

Taikouvember 2024 - Prompt Guideline:

Day 1, Monday, November 4th 2024: Friendship

"Friendship is a relationship of mutual affection between people. It is a stronger form of interpersonal bond than an "acquaintance" or an "association", such as a classmate, neighbour, coworker, or colleague. Friendships are foremost formed by choice, typically on the basis that the parties involved admire each other on an intimate level, and enjoy commonality and socializing. Sometimes friends are distinguished from family, as in the saying "friends and family", and sometimes from lovers. Forming and maintaining friendships often requires time and effort. Most people underestimate how much other people like them."

What is your favourite aspect about Taichi's and Koushiro's friendship with one another? What do you enjoy the most about their dynamics, what makes them special to you? Do you have headcanons about inside jokes, hobbies, etc.? Where could you see them have quarrels and arguments? Are there moments in the anime, manhua, games, etc. that stuck out to you, which display their platonic bond best?

Additional idea: What is your favourite aspect about their relationship/dynamic with Yamato?

Alternate prompts: Connection / Distance (2022) & The Multiverse: Canon vs. AUs (2023)

Take a look at the prompts of the other days too!

Day 2, Tuesday, November 5th: Love

Day 3, Wednesday, November 6th: Sincerity

Day 4, Thursday, November 7th: Reliability

Day 5, Friday, November 8th: Hope

Day 6, Saturday, November 9th: Light

Day 7, Sunday, November 10th: Kindness / Miracles

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"FAIR SLEUTH TRAILS THIEVES IN STORE," Toronto Star. July 11, 1933. Page 2. ---- Negotiates Arrest of Astute Shop-Lifters After Chase ---- Magdaline Halac and William Buhack, charged with stealing 8 ladies' dresses, one kimona, slip, pair of shoes, 1 sets of underwear. bathing cap and various other articles from a downtown store were remanded in custody for sentence on July 18 by Magistrate Patterson in women's court today.

"I saw the lady take a dress off the rack and hold it up." said a woman store detective. "The man worked in behind her and took another dress off the rack, and slipped it under his cost which he held folded over his arm. Then the lady put the dress she was using to shield the man back on the rack and they both walked away. I followed them."

The trail led all over the neighborhood, through streets, stores, offices, elevators, stairs, around corners and into wash-rooms, she said. The accused were finally arrested by three store detectives and turned over to Detective Black.

"They also paid a visit to the bathing suit counter where the man again put a stolen suit under his coat while shielded by the woman." testified another store detective.

A colorful exhibit of the stolen articles occupied a large space in court.

"This woman is the mother of six children," said defence counsel. "She was only a tool in this man's hands. He takes full blame."

"She was a very able assistant." commented her worship.

"The man has been convicted for shop-lifting before in Windsor," said the crown. "Full restitution must be made," said the bench.

"Very Jealous" "He picked up a chair and wanted to hit me over the head with. Another day he strangled me before my daughter. He said he would kill me if I locked my door. He's jealous of everyone," claimed a little Scottish lady, charging her husband with assault.

"She keeps nagging me until I can't stand it any longer." pleaded accused.

"If you leave drink alone you won't have any trouble," said the bench. "You will sign a bond to abstain from all alcohol and keep the peace for six months and you will be under the supervision of this court for that period."

Jean Clark, convicted last week of keeping a resort, was sentenced to 3 months at the jail farm.

Glen Russell, appearing for sentence on a vagrancy charge, was put on probation for six months, having secured transportation to her home up north.

"A Scotsman gave me a bottle of wine and I got drunk," claimed a ruddy-faced man charged with beating his wife and daughter. He was remanded in custody for sentence on July 18.

Found drunk on Elizabeth St.. Georgina Westbrook was sentenced to three months at the jail farm. It was her second offence.

Mary Naster, on a vagrancy charge, was remanded to July 18 for mental examination.

"Scratched Like Cat" "She scratched me like a wild cat", claimed Edna Howcombe, charging Mrs. Phillip Warnett with assault.

"She came in for a minute for the washtub and insisted on having it. I said I had as much right to it as anyone. We live in the same apart- ment house. Then she called me the worst names."

"Not so much assault as insult then," said the crown.

"No. I still have the scratch marks on me."

The matron testified that complainant had long deep scratches on her arms and in the face.

"She tried to slap me," claimed accused, "I had the washtub and she asked me for it. I said I would give it to her in a couple of minutes.

Accused was bound over in the sum of $50 to keep the peace for six months.

"He hit me in the face with his fist. Then somebody cracked me over the head with a stick. I've been to the doctor's three time. His wife had a broomstick. I don't remember what she did because he knocked me silly first," claimed Mary Paska, charging her neighbor, William Babayaka with assault.

"My boys and theirs were in the yard. Then the woman came out and called me bad names."

"She threw a pail and a rake at me. Then she threw a bottle at me later. But she missed every time," smiled the accused.

"I was sitting quietly on my back bench when some rubbish came over the fence. I tried to telephone, and when I came out again complainant was raising the dickens with my wife. I said: 'What's going on here?" She says: 'I'll show you.' That's when she started throwing things at me. Then the police came and told me to hand back all the things she had just thrown at me. I asked her: 'Is this your rake?" She says: 'Yes. So I gently gave it to her. No, I never hit her over the head or anywhere."

Both parties were bound over to keep the peace for six months.

[beardedmrbean]

A 50-year-old American woman was found chained to a tree and left to die in a forest in India, police said.

The woman, identified as Lalita Kayi Kumar, was rescued after a shepherd heard her cries on Saturday evening in Sonurli village, located about 450km from India’s financial capital of Mumbai in the south-western state of Maharashtra.

Police registered a case of attempted murder against Ms Kumar’s former husband based on a note scribbled by her at the hospital.

The authorities ascertained her identity and residential address from photocopies of a US passport and a national identity card recovered from her.

”Based on the note written by the woman at the hospital, a case has been registered against her former husband on charges of attempted murder, act endangering life or personal safety of others and wrongful confinement under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS),” Saurabh Agrawal, superintendent of police of Sindhudurg district, said. BNS is India’s official criminal code.

She was transferred to a hospital in the neighbouring state of Goa, Mr Agrawal told the wire agency Press Trust of India. She is “weak” and “not in a position to give her statement”, he said.

Officials do not yet know how long she was left tied to the tree. “The area where she was found had experienced heavy rain,” Mr Agrawal said.

“We have found that the woman, who appears to have been born in the US, had also resided in Goa for some time. We are trying to find out whom she was in touch with in the past few months,” he added.

Police say she appears not to have eaten for several days. The husband, whose name was not disclosed by officials, allegedly hails from Tamil Nadu. Forest inspector Vikas Padve told The Hindu newspaper that while doctors told the authorities she was doing “fine”, Ms Kumar was “suffering from psychiatric issues.

“She is unable to speak and remains under observation,” Mr Padve said.

“She reportedly left her husband after a quarrel,” a police official was quoted as saying by the outlet.

The victim was believed to be living in India for the past ten years, reported the Hindustan Times, quoting officials from the local police station. The authorities have sent a team of investigators to Tamil Nadu and Goa to trace her relatives.

[idonthaveapenname]

I had to make a religion for my unnamed book

Existence is divided into two realms. The physical realm is inhabited by Mortals, while the spiritual realm homes the Ethereal. Although Mortals aren't able to travel across the veil without magical assistance, certain Ethereal can choose to appear in the physical realm for brief periods. Just like Mortals, Ethereal are divided into different classes.

Major Ethereal - these are the beings with power over elements to influence the world and universe (think Zeus, Thor, Yahweh). Due to their influence over large-scale happenings, they don't like to meddle directly with Mortal lives. They can travel through the veil with no need for additional clauses. They are further divided into the below based on how they view their neighbours from across the veil:

Gods - gods are protective of life as they find bliss in its creation. When they have some downtime, they enjoy watching the Mortals struggle to deal with their miniscule tasks.

Forces - forces are indifferent to life as it occurs outside of their jurisdiction. If their business were to kill or birth Mortals, this is just a byproduct of what must be done.

Demons - demons would love nothing more but to eradicate all Mortal life. They believe that they are above all Mortals and that existence would be better if the veil was removed.

Minor Ethereal - on the other hand, minor Ethereal exist without power over elements (think Loki, Angels). The minor Ethereal spend their time interacting with the Mortals, however they must enter into a pact with a Mortal to travel the veil. They are further divided into the below based on how they interact with Mortals:

Guardians - guardians try to warn Mortals of oncoming disasters and guide them towards survival. Most Guardian pacts center around giving Mortals something to help and requiring very little in return.

Fae - the fae are indifferent to the lives of Mortals and generally only interact with the physical realm for their own amusement. Fae generally find nothing funnier than to give Mortals power in return for sending them out on quests that might get them killed. For every task a Mortal carries out, Fae will grant extra power and provide extra quests.

Djin - djin believe Mortals are cruel creatures that are driven by a greedy instinct. They believe that, if left to their own devices, Mortals will destroy the world. Thus, they interact with Mortals only to drive them towards their own destruction through wars and what they deem to be other Mortal activites.

Ethereal roles are personalised to each individual. Every ethereal has their own agenda and will get into quarrels with other ethereal beings to further their agenda. Since Major Ethereal have power over elemental forces, they have no interest in interacting with mortals as they can essentially destroy them at will. Minor Ethereal on the other hand, have no elemental forces and are thus forced to interact with the mortals in order to bring about any changes they want.

Although mortals do understand the power rankings, they are not familiar with the goings on of the ethereal and can only refer to great elders (who’s whole point of existence is to communicate with the ethereal) – and they find it very difficult to distinguish false prophets.

taglist: @glbettwrites @keter-kan (text me to join this super exclusive club :D)

[howieabel]

“Biard did not think much of the Mi’kmaq, but reported that the feeling was mutual: ‘They consider themselves better than the French: “For,” they say, “you are always fighting and quarrelling among yourselves; we live peaceably. You are envious and are all the time slandering each other; you are thieves and deceivers; you are covetous, and are neither generous nor kind; as for us, if we have a morsel of bread we share it with our neighbour.” They are saying these and like things continually.’14 What seemed to irritate Biard the most was that the Mi’kmaq would constantly assert that they were, as a result, ‘richer’ than the French. The French had more material possessions, the Mi’kmaq conceded; but they had other, greater assets: ease, comfort and time.” ― David Graeber, The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity

[slavicafire]

reading the express poranny from 1926 and 1927 and goodness. goodness we haven’t changed as people at all - and actually, we haven’t changed for the worse either. you think tabloids and abuse of privacy are all that recent - and then you read the stories from old newspapers where not only are normal everyday people getting blasted with their name and surname for stupid shit (drinking, neighbour quarrels, debts) but also with their full address, and oftentimes the full address of their parents, too. 

it is entertaining to read, unfortunately, so I am very aware I fell into the same trap many fell that 100 years ago.