#that squeek at the end

[c-schroed]

Sqweek energy

I had a pink eye this week, the first I ever had, and ever since looking in the mirror and seeing my right eye in all its inflammatory glory I can't but think of Sqweek, that one side character in that one Superman: The Animated Series episode:

The right eye is the actual face, the rest of the face does not move. As a child, this at the same time creeped me out and fascinated me more than anything else I saw in Superman TAS.

It's from that double episode where Lobo is paid to bring Supes to a Last of Their Kind zoo. I think I only saw it once, as a child, but the whole thing is hardwired into my brain (it's indeed the only Superman episode I can remember), and I'm pretty sure it's because of this lovely little mindfuck of an alien.

[aetherraeys]

sunshine!james who is always excessively giddy and barrels through everything with too much vigour. and bestfriend grumpy!reader is acc at their wits end because running after james is a full time job, and they'd never admit it but they wouldn't trade it for the world.

in the same instance, grumpy!reader who loves winter but always has cold hands and feet, and james is just watching you mop around inside bcs you know it's too cold. and james being just james drags them out anyway so you can see the snow because he knows it will make them happier. making sure you bundled up extra while he's content even without a coat.

and when you eventually becomes too cold, hands stuffed into their pockets in tight fists, shuffling to the three broomsticks.

james feels just a little bit bad.

watching you sniff endlessly, boots padding gently into the snow with numb limbs. and before you get there james, being a walking furnace, has the brilliant idea that he could probably warm you up.

abruptly stopping at the bottom of the bridge and places his hands into your pockets, gasping at the temperature when your skin touches. even after 10 minutes of squeezing and rubbing your against his they are still cold and james is huffing because how have they not warmed up yet.

so he stops, taking both your hands out from your pockets and stuffing them under his jumpers. too casually, too flippant because in his mind, he's warmer at the core so it makes sense to do anything to warm you up right?

right?!

WRONG!! for the first few moments youre both just standing frozen, fingers curling against his stomach, still trembling and looking up at him wide-eyed while he holds your palm flush to his skin. and his ears are getting redder, not from the cold but from how brazen his actions were. and he's realising he actually quiet likes the feeling of your hands on him, soft and warming up as the second go by.

so he leans in closer, pulling your hands to curl around his waist, exposing his sides slightly to bite of the cold wind, but he doesn't mind, doesn't even notice because he's still just looking at you and you still havent said a word, other than the initial squeek that slipped through your lips when he first pulled you in.

and now he cant stop looking at you, even if he tried, and feels suddenly drawn to your lips. gaze flickering up and down between your eyes and where he's leaning into. he feels his lips curling into a smile because you look like a deer in headlights, wide-eyed, runny nosed and all.

but you don't pull away--infact you raise onto your toes slightly, closing the distance between you. fingers are gripping slightly at his flesh as he leans further into you and your lips.

and his are soft and warm and he smells like cinnamon and his glasses have fogged up against his cheeks by the time you lean back slightly. he doesn't go far, resting his forehead against yours and has just the cheesiest smile on his face. tip of his nose still brushing against your frozen one when he whispers--

"warmed you up quite well, haven't i?"

does this count a drabble or....

[dnfity]

GEORGE SQUEEK AT THE END OF HIS LAUGH

[cokou]

𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 OCT 1: ARRANGED MARRIAGE # Roronoa Zoro┆Fem! Reader

Request ✉* Hi, if you’re open can I request Zoro for Oct.1 Rough sex? And female reader?If not that’s ok, I just wanted to say I love your writing and I love the work u put into making your posts aesthetic <3 Make sure to take care of urself :)

Warnings ✉* Rough sex, arranged marriage, Shit writing

WC ✉* 978 words┆5,304 characters

It only had been a week— a week of meeting this man, who you were fended off to by your 'parents'. A week of getting to know each other forcefully. A week of you trying your best to just disappear and end this suffering put between the two of you. A week of him convincing himself that not even a single attention should be provided for you, he really tried his best.

He grits his teeth to your agreeing words, which makes it much more heavier to swallow such a thick throwback from you.

"I'm not giving you a single attention just because we're married."

"I never said you should."

And yet, after all those hardships that you had put to end this, only for you to end up on his bed as he ravishes you into the thin, silky bedsheet inside his room. His bed would most likely give out soon as it squeeks everytime his hard thrusts comes along your skin once again.

With his hips starting to stutter from the rough pressure and friction to please you, he held you in place in order to keep up. Your hips buckle for more into him, forcibly making him go deeper inside your cervix. His tip remarkably bullying your cervix enough for it to end up bruising by tomorrow morning.

It's hard, he makes it soo hard to take him. Zoro full well knows that he himself is big, Zoro is a monster when it comes down from there and he knows it. It's hard, specially when his thrusts are rough yet slow ones. Yet, you take him like you were granted to him from a genie itself, that is what makes it exciting for him.

Your hole was typically stretched as big as it could to fit Zoro, it hurted a few minutes ago and was instantly replaced with pleasure. Not only that, but your core was incredibly squeezing him so hard that it makes it hard for him to just pull out. It felt so good to him, the way you clench over his thick shaft, the way you murmur sweet moans that gradually get louder and louder as time passes.

Zoro— was most definitely holding himself from going to hard on you, why? It was your first time, and he wants to savour his favorite positions for future sessions with you as he knows this won't be the last one, so that way he'd suprise you with lot's more and not the same over and over again.

You dont mind, you never will. Zoro was so lawge that you wouldn't remarably fit him immediately, which involves lot's of lubricant. It will never be the same, for you everything does have differences. Just like his pace right now compared to the first one, rough and agonizingly slow. Other than that, he was savoring the moment of your sloppy hole.

Zoro removes his bandana, wiping his forehead using it and ties it around your arm, it was soaked in his sweat and it almost felt disgusting. He runs his calloused hands over your arms towards your shoulder, simply to tease you. His rough hands were dragging along your skin, making you shiver in suprise.

Was this romanticism? He asks himself; but why? No, romance was never his forte, no it was never something he wanted to experience. But, here he was on top of you, savoring each thrust he gave you. Here he was, admiring you soft, delicate moans that echoes through his ears.

Fuck romanticism, his mind swirled around the thoughts of what was happening now— nothing was important, nothing other than projecting his hips movements, nothing other than making you cum.

His thoughts swirled more, and more. It makes him go rougher at the session. The skin slapping, your ass was very much sore from all the collision of your skins. Your moans get louder each rough thrusts he provides, this was either heaven or hell.

You held onto his shoulder as he goes faster, your eyes almost going white and you felt like you were gonna explode your climax all over him soon.

"I hope i could keep you like this forever, a hole to forever abuse." Zoro smirks on his comment,

The deep feeling deep inside his loin is heating up, he feels the spring that will almost immediately burst. He continues pounding you like a dog in heat, his hips now stuttering even more. Your nails dug on his back, leaving crescent moon shapes behind him. Your moans are heard by the whole room, possibly until outside of the room and 2 more neighboring ones.

His thrust was demonic to forever start with, the sound of his repeated thrusting and followed by the sloppiness that was developed between the both of you were starting to louden itself. Zoro was finally groaning and huffing, whilst your moans only louden at the sensation.

Zoro fastens his pace, making your eyes roll back at the back of your skull. The coil deep inside him about to snap, he takes his index and middle finger and shove them up your mouth. You swirl your tongue on his fingers and suck them as he'd like.

"Shit— take my fucking cum┅" With no more words, Zoro spills inside you with a loud thrust, making you yelp loudly, almost lolling your tongue out in ecstacy. He takes your legs and positions your knees above your head,making his cum reach deeper parts within you yourself couldn't reach. You release a loud moan along with some pants as you take your climax on his cock aswell. Gosh, it felt so good.

Zoro and You are now a panting, sweaty, and sticky mess. He plops down to the bed beside you and catches his breath, his cum slowly dripping out of your pussy.

"Physical attention doesn't seem bad."

"I know "

General M.List┆Hentober 24 M.List

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[flowercrownsandherondales]

Against the Odds pt. 6

Can you tell I’m great at subtly? I should very much be asleep right now, but alas, I have to feed the girls while we all wait for @sweetheartsofpanem to update tomorrow.

VI: Surprise.

It took five days of knocking at Haymitch’s door before he finally let me in again. 

“If you end up dead it’s on you.” He sighed, opening the door wide for me. A genuine laugh slipped out of my lips. 

“They’d be doing me a favor.” He just shook his head, plopping back on the couch as usual. 

“And me.” he muttered under his breath. 

I cleaned the house as usual, silence settling between us comfortably. 

“You know, I think downstairs is pretty spotless at this point. Maybe I can find something to get into upstairs?” I hadn’t dared to breach his bedroom without permission. I could only imagine how badly his sheets needed to be washed and dried. 

He went a little pale, reaching for his liquor once again. “Got something up there that’s gonna bite me?” I teased, leaning on my broom perched behind the couch. He choked on his drink, coughing violently into his fist. 

“Nothing up there needs to be cleaned.” I pouted at that. 

“C’mon Haymitch. I know for a fact if you weren’t keeping down here clean, that bedroom of yours is a disaster. I’ll be quick, promise.” he grumbled like an old man before flicking his fingers as if he were shooing away a bug. 

“Fine. Don’t go snooping around. Sweep and leave.” 

“Thanks!” I squeeked, rushing up the stairs two at a time. A change of scenery and a new level of cleaning should be able to get my mind off the horrors of the last month for a minute. 

His bedroom was less cluttered than I imagined. Two empty bottles sat on his dresser, one half full sat on his bedside table. The curtains were drawn tight. His bed was simple white linen, sheets slightly askew. A pile of clothes sat in the far right corner, and a few hung out of his dresser drawers as if they had just been shoved in there. The smell of alcohol and pine hit me with force, uniquely Haymitch Abernathy. 

I tiptoed over to his bedside table, pulling the lamp string to illuminate what I was working with. I hadn’t realized there was a drawer under it, open just enough that whatever it held was taken out often. I swore I wouldn’t look. At least not until I was done cleaning. 

I set to work quickly, humming to myself as I wiped down surfaces, swept up dust, gathered his clothes and sheets to wash. I wasn’t sure what tune I was going for, something I had offhandedly heard Burdock sing to his girls on their way to the woods. Something soft and sweet and uniquely covey. 

I wiped my brow when I was done, about to shut off the light when I remembered the drawer. It was wrong, stupid, and would surely get me kicked out to open it. Just do it. I huffed against logic, checking over my shoulder at the door before cracking it open just an inch more so I could dig my hand in there. I didn’t feel much, shifting around until I landed on something square. 

I dug it out with caution, careful not to knock it on the wood and make too much noise. I felt like I had when I would sneak out with Wyatt at night, silently pleading my bedroom window wouldn’t crackle as I lifted it open. 

My back leaned against his bed, knees pulled to my chest as I flipped it over. A picture frame, the wood back puffed out to indicate a few were shoved into it. I unscrewed it, letting four pictures fall out into my lap. 

The first was of Lenore Dove basking in the sunlight, feeding a few geese that flocked around her. It was taken off guard, but she still had a bright smile on her face. I could imagine her soft voice cooing to them. Her hair was tied up messily, skirt pushed just above her kneecaps. It was black and white, but I could still picture her auburn waves. She really was the most beautiful girl in town. 

I flipped to the next, a picture of Mrs. Abernathy and Sid. She was hanging clothes to dry, laughing as Sid ran after a few birds that gathered near their laundry basket. He was blurry but you could make out a toothy grin, indicating he must have been 6 or 7. My heart clenched at the boy, my mind almost tricking me into hearing his little giggle again. 

The next was a picture of Burdock and Blair, arms wrapped over each other's necks. Burdock held up a rabbit he no doubt shot. I almost missed Lenore in the corner, giggling at their antics. 

Finally I came to the last picture. I gasped, hand covering my mouth quickly at the noise. It was a sunny day in the middle of summer. Louella and Sid sat in the field playing in the dirt, giggling at something the other said. Crouching above them was me, hands on my knees as I directed them on something. My hair was pinned in two braids, flowers stuffed in the gaps from Louella. My dress was dirty from chasing them through the grass. Haymitch and I had to be around 12 at the time. I could faintly remember that day. Haymitch, Blair and Burdock had piled money together to buy the shitty camera from the hob. Sae must have cut them a hell of a deal, amused by their excitement. 

I held the picture to my chest, sitting with the memory for a moment. I didn’t even hear breathing coming from the doorframe. 

“Thought I told you not to snoop.” He said matter of factly, leaning lazily with his arms crossed. I jumped, waiting for him to snap at me. Instead I found… melancholy? Half a smile came to his face when he stepped closer, looking at the picture in the field. 

“You remember that day?” he slumped down beside me, knees brushing together and he leaned in. I smiled, “Didn’t realize I was modeling. Would have at least brushed the dirt off my dress.” He let out a laugh at that, deep from his stomach. 

“We paid way too much for that shitty camera. Pretty sure Blair broke it after that was taken.” Haymitch had a full grin now, lost in the memory with me. 

“Sounds like a Blair thing to do.” I shrugged, matching his grin as we made eye contact before erupting into laughs. Haymitch clutched his stomach, his hair falling into his eyes. My laughter died for a second, just content to watch him, committing the glimpse of the boy he used to be to memory. 

Our giggles subsided as quickly as they came on. Silence filled the room as I leaned my head onto his shoulder. He didn’t shrug it off, didn’t even flinch. Just like it used to be, Haymitch and Y/N, watching and waiting and breathing. 

He gently took the pictures from me, taking a deep breath and reaching around me to put them back in their drawer. As he opened it fully I caught a full look into what was inside. A flask I had missed when searching around, and something small and brittle wrapped in a white handkerchief. 

“What’s that?” I asked as I reached for it, not noticing Haymitch’s breath hitch. 

“Y/N I-” he stopped as I unwrapped it. Dogwood flowers. 

Not just dogwood flowers. Dogwood flowers with dried blood on a few petals. 

The room became electric. An echo filled my ears, the fishbowl effect back full throttle. 

“Why do you have these?” I asked carefully. I wasn’t teetering on my tightrope of emotions anymore, I was watching it be sawed in half. 

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and hunching his shoulders in guilt. 

“I’m going to ask one more time, Haymitch. Why do you have these?” 

“They were given to me. I wanted- fuck, Y/N, I wanted to give them to you. I was going to, I swear. They fell off his coat and his stylist gave them to me. I’m sorry… shit, I’m so sorry.” 

His hands were shaking now, itching to run through his hair again. I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. Breathe in. Good. Breathe out. 

“I- you had no right.” I seethed. So much for breathing through it.

He put his head in his hands, shaking his head and mumbling apology after apology. I stood abruptly, his knee against mine starting to physically burn. 

He seemed to snap into it after that, reaching out a hand to stop me. 

“Y/N, let’s just talk about it. I know you want to. You haven’t said a word about him, but I can feel it.” He begged, but I was too far into a spiral. I backed away from him, clutching the flowers to my chest like a lifeline. As if they could anchor me to him. 

“No Haymitch. No.” My voice was coming out in sobs now, hyperventilating. He stood, crossing over to me in two steps, pulling me into his arms and cradling the back of my head to his shoulder while I shook. The flowers fell to the ground, my hands opting to fist his shirt and I broke open completely. Haymitch shushed me as I had done to him at the funeral, one hand still on my head while the other caressed my back. 

We stayed like that for a while, gentle caresses to soothe my aching heart. I finally calmed down, pushing from his chest and meeting his gaze. His lips were parted, eyes searching mine as if he could find the source of it all and pull it away. Hands came up, clasping the sides of my face. 

“What do you need, Y/N?” he barely whispered. What did I need? My family back, someone to hold me again and promise me I would come out of the other side. Someone who understood. 

Someone like him. 

I couldn’t stop myself from shaking my head, fuck it. 

And I leaned in, our lips meeting unceremoniously. 

[kleefkruid]

Okay are you ready for the fosternames? In the end we went with the vegetable names since a Kotelet is a big piece of meat and it really should have some vegetables around it you know, blanced diet

On the left we have the smallest of the bunch Spruitje (Brussels sprout) which fits bc Spruitje is also a term of endearment for a small child. She likes to climb all the way on top of Kotelet to nap so I'll hope she'll be a great lap kitty! She needs a bit more time figuring things out like walking but I think it's because she's smaller en therefore taking her time building mussle.

On the right we have the artist previously known as White Baby, 3 week record holder of the fattest baby award and almost a full 100 grams heavier than his sister. He gets the fitting name of Witloof (chicory, the white kind), another classis Belgian vegetable. He's the only boy of the bunch, always the first to figure something new out and the one that travels the furthest from Kotelet (which she hatesss)

Next up we have the two tabbies with socks, who I just took a quick pic of before their medicine and you can guess who got convinced I was trying to eat her or something. the left one has short back socks and the right one has a bit of a stocking going on, but currently they're very hard to tell apart in pictures so I decided to give them matching names. Say hi to Peeke (r) & Ewrt (l), pekes & ertjes is a regional term for those baby carrots and peas that come together like this.

and lastly we have the solid tabby who henceforth shall be known as Venkel (Fennel) because that's my favorite soup to make and I feel like it fits. Also 'venkelen' sounds like some kind of complaining and she's the one that figured out how to squeek with her full long capacity and then some. We love an opinionated lady here.

[hellisharchive]

Can I please request an Adam x Male Reader who way too innocent to the point they HATE sex and cussing(Never cuss in Reader's life) and the fact they squeek like a squeek toy if they get jumped scared

﹒﹒﹒squeaky toy

➤ 18+, sexual remarks

➤ Adam x male!reader

➤ Sorry this is so late and so short! I was struggling with how to write this 😅

Adam had always teased you, throwing sexual remarks your way and always making sure to scare you at any given moment. It always frustrated you and made you upset. But at the same time, you had these weird feelings for him that you couldn't decipher. It couldn't be a crush, it just couldn't! He was so rude to you, yet why did you miss him when he didn't antagonize you one day?

The day was strange- Adam wasn't in your corner at all today. You thought you would enjoy it, but it just felt off. You still tried to remain positive though, hanging with friends and laughing. They asked if you knew where Adam was since he usually would have been here around this time, but you answered honestly and had no idea. You also accidentally admitted that you missed him, which caused them to light up claiming you had a crush on him.

You of course denied it, but you couldn't help feel that they were right. Tomorrow quickly came and you hoped you would see him again, even if you would never admit it. He always tried to get you to swear and you refused every single time. This was Heaven! He may be able to swear but you never have even in your living life. The day was going by eerily quiet without him until the familiar yell startled you, causing you to jump up.

"HAHAHA I got you again Bitch! HA that was hilarious! You never fail to sound like a fucking squeaky toy! Missed me?" He walked out from behind you with his signature smirk as he looked at you. Swallowing, you thought of what to say as you calmed down from his scare.

"And what if I did?" That wasn't what you meant to say, immediately backtracking as you panicked, crap! You tried to save the situation, but it was useless. Your simple mistake had costed you your secret. Dang it!

"YOU missing ME? I thought you hated me! Was that a lie? Oh my God this is too good. You hearing this Lute?" Mr. Perfect over here missed me!" He doubled over laughing as Lute agreed, just staring at him laughing as he finally stood up, wiping tears away.

"I always knew you liked me Bitch. What? You gonna tell me you wanna get fucked by the original dick now?" Why did he say that? You panicked, immediately denying it. You hated sex so much, always hearing him talk about made you uncomfortable, yet you still missed his presence. He also tried to get you to swear before, but you refused.

"NO! NO! I DO NOT STOP!" You were thoroughly flustered to no ends as you put your hands over your face, just imagining doing it gave you the ick. Your hands were moved away as he smirked, he knew how to push your buttons.

"Hey, you meet me at my place tonight. I wanna take ya out" You stared at him wide eyed. Did he just ask you out on a date? You always thought he was only into girls anyways. Why did he ask you out? He was waiting for your answer, so you just stumbled as you said ok.

"That's what I thought, Bitch. Wear something nice" And he walked away, leaving you confused, flustered and anxious. Why did you agree? You friends immediately hounded you, concerned for how you were feeling. You just said you wished he didn't leave you alone again.

[doctorgirlsblog]

Ghost From The Past (MV x OC!)

Chapter 2: Lie To Me Again

Max was fidgeting with his phone, contemplating whether to send the damn text or not. Liam, his first trainer, had been their mutual friend back then, someone who knew Bea like the back of his hand. If anyone knew why she was back now, it would be him. He hit send before he groaned and slumped back against the crisp white sheets of his hotel bed.

Liam's reply pinged through almost instantly. The message was brief, almost a warning. ''Heard she's back. That's not the same little girl you left, mate. If I were you, I'd be careful.''

It just confirmed Max's gut feeling. Something was terribly wrong here.

On the other side of the city, high above glittering lights of Miami's night life, Chloe and Beatrice sipped champagne in her sleek penthouse.

Chloe finally broke the comfortable silence.

''When are you gonna corner him then, B?''

Beatrice swirled the golden liquid in her glass, her gaze fixed on the idstant lights, a slow smile spreading across her face.

''Let him win tomorrow first. Then,'' her smile sharpened, losing its earlier softness, ''we'll move to the celebrations.''

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Max crossed the finish line, cheers erupting from the RedBull pit wall. Christian and Beatrice exchanged their congratulations, both smiling brightly as they went over to the stands to wait for him. Christian pulled him into a hug, clapping him on the back. Max kept grinning, still not noticing the girl standing to his right side. He felt gentle touch on his forearm, and he turned, his eyes locking with her piercing gaze. ''Max,'' she said, and he swore he felt his heart drop after hearing his name from her lips after so much time, ''congratulations. A fantastic drive.''

Just as he opened his mouth to thank her, she leaned in and kissed his cheek softly, stil not letting of his forearm. Max froze. But just as she leaned in, she was already pulling back, her calm, professional gaze in place. Cameras kept clicking around them, and she knew they got enough material to spark some questions that are going to land all the way back home, to his precious Kelly.

''Enjoy the celebrations, Max. You deserve it.''

She turned away and disappeared in the crowd, finding Chloe who kept smirking at her. Beatrice smirked back.

Max stood frozen for a moment, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, a faint press of her lips on his cheek still warm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The buzz of his phone echoed through the quiet driver's room. He glanced at the screen and a genuine smile finally broke through. It was Kelly, video-calling him. He answered right away, his face softening further at the sight of her holding their baby girl.

''How are my sweet girls?'' he said, his voice warm.

Kelly smiled. ''She's good, just woke up from her nap.''

Max smiled. ''Hope she's not making you much trouble.''

''She isn't.'' Kelly confirmed, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. There was a beat of silence, a subtle shift in the atmosphere that Max couldn't place. Then, she spoke again. ''So..I saw the celebrations.''

Max nodded. ''Yeah, it was amazing. The team was so happy.''

Kelly nodded slowly, her gaze steady. ''And your new sponsor seems very..enthusiastic. She kissed you.''

Max gulped. ''She just congratulated me. She also kissed Christian, haha,'' He tried to sound casual, but he felt himself slipping.

''Right,'' Kelly said slowly, her expression still unreadable. ''And you never met her before this weekend?''

''No!'' Max squeeked, little too fast. ''I just met her yesterday.''

Oh, how easy he slipped into the lies.

The phone call ended, leaving Max with a cold dread in his stomach. He knew he hadn't convinced her. He didn't even convince himself. The lie about only meeting Beatrice yesterday felt flimsy even to his own ears. He paced his driver's room, pulling on his hair. He had to know what Beatrice was playing at. First acting like she doesn't know him, then that kiss - it all felt staged. He pulled out his phone again, texting Liam again, asking for her number.

A wave of hesitation washed over him. What would he even say?

Taking a deep breath, he typed out a message.

''Beatrice, it's Max. Could we maybe talk?''

He stared at the message for a long minute before hitting send. Now all he could do was wait. But the answer never came. Not even the day after, when Christian called him into his office, where the said devil sat, in tight pencil skirt, her legs crossed. She didn't even spare him a glance as he sat beside her.

''Everything okay, Christian? You said it was urgent'?''

Christian cleared his throat, then looked over at her, then back at Max.

''Yes. Well, Max I would never interfere with your personal or love life, and what you choose to do in your free time is your thing, but Beatrice here came to me, expressing her..worries..about you trying to ask her out. Miss Pierce was pretty clear that her relation to RedBull Racing is to remain strictly professional and I'm asking you in her name, to strain away from texting and calling at late night.''

She nodded only, as Max watched in disbelief. ''W..What?!'' He felt played. ''Christian, you know me, I..she is a liar. She is playing with you. She knows me, she was-''

''That would be enough, Max. You may go now.'' Christian interuppted him, his hard gaze fixed on him.

He looked at her in disbelief, shaking his head as he stood up. Door slammed shut behind him and she winced, faking a shutter.

''My apologies again, Beatrice. I don't know what came into him.''

She smiled sweetly. ''All good Christian. Thank you again. So much.'' she stood up, kissing him on the cheek before she left too. As the door clicked shut behind her, the sweet smile dropped form her face, replaced by a look of cold satisfaction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liar! The word screamed on repeat in Max's head. He shook his head in disbelief, rage burning in his chest. He slammed his fist against the nearest wall, the dull thud echoing his despair. He was being fucking played, like a puppet on the strings.

He was halfway down the empty corridor, his mind still reeling, when he heard the distinct, sharp click of heels approaching from behind. Instinct took over, fueled by a rage that slowly bordered on desperation. Without a second thought, he spun around, his eyes blazing. As Beatrice rounded the corner, a small smirk playing on her lips, Max moved with surprising speed. He reached out, his hand gripping her arm, fingers tightening just enough to leave a bruise, and pulled her into the nearest open doorway which happened to be a small, empty storage room. The suddenness of his action and the unexpected hold wiped the smugness from her face, replaced by a flicker of surprise, quickly masked by a cool, almost amused composure. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes assessing him like a predator sizing up its prey.

The door swung shut behind them with a heavy thud, plunging the small space into dimness, illuminated only by a sliver of light from the little window. Max didn't release her arm, his grip tightening, a silent challenge in his eyes as he stared down at her, his chest heaving.

''What the hell do you think you're doing, Beatrice?!'' His voice was low and dangerous, each word laced with a barely supressed violence. ''Lying to Christian? Turning him against me? What is your game? And don't even start with that professional bullshit again.''

Beatrice finally met his gaze, her own unwavering, a playful smirk curling her lips. ''Let go of my arm, Max.'' she said, her voice soft. ''You're starting to crease my jacket. And really, is this the way to treat a valued sponsor?''

Max's grip tightened even more. ''You're not just a sponsor, and you know it. That kiss for media, the way you looked at me..it wasn't about business. What do you want, Beatrice? What are you trying to prove after all this time?''

A flicker of something painful danced in her eyes before quickly disappearing again. She leaned slightly closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. ''Perhaps I just wanted to remind you what you lost, Max. To remind you of what you threw away.'' Her gaze flickered down to his lips, then back up to his eyes, a blatant invitation hanging in the air. ''Or perhaps,'' she added, her voice laced with teasing malice, ''I simply enjoy watching you squirm for once.''

She finally pulled her arm free. ''Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Verstappen, I have business to attend to. And you,'' she added, her eyes gleaming, ''have a reputation to repair.''

But before she could reach the door, Max's control finally snapped. He lunged forward, his hand shooting out and catching her shoulder, spinning her around with a force that made her gasp. The self-satisfied smirk vanished as her back slammed against the cold metal of the door with a jarring thud.

The breath left her lungs in a sharp exhale. For the first time since he had pulled her into the room, Beatrice looked genuinely taken aback, her cold composure momentarily fractured. Her eyes widened slightly as she starred up at him, her perfectly styled hair slightly disheveled.

Max was mere inches away, his chest heaving, his eyes burning into hers. His hands were braced on either side of her head against the door, trapping her.

''Don't you dare walk away from me,'' he growled , his voice low and guttural, vibrating with fury. ''You think you can just waltz back into my life after all these years and play these twisted games? You think you can lie to my boss, try to sabotage my career, and then just..leave?''

Beatrice's initial shock quickly morphed back into a defiant glare. She tilted her chin up, meeting his furious gaze. ''I should have walked away from you all those years ago! Funny you're the one talking about leaving, when you used me and left me there like some fucking cheap whore!''

Max's eyes softened instantly. ''Bea..''

''Don't you fucking dare! I gave you everything! I was sixteen, for fuck's sake! You. Took. Everything. From. Me.'' she pushed him away, her hands on his chest.

''You used me, you got what you wanted, and then you left for this. Your damn career. And for years I though, maybe it was my fault. But then I saw you got with her. Older. Wiser. Mature. I was just a girl and she was a woman right? Right?!''

She was screaming now, and Max winced, trying to come with a response. ''Oh now you don't have anything to say to me? You had plenty to say back then!'' And then a slap. It echoed through the small space, his head snapping to the side from the impact. He flinched. ''You think your career is being sabotaged? Try living with the memory of being made to feel like you were nothing. Like you didn't matter at all.''

''I'm...I'm sorry.'' he mumbled, the apology feeling hollow and insufficient even to his own ears.

''Sorry?'' she repeated, the word laced with disbelief. ''Sorry for what, Max? For crushing my heart? For disposing me? For making me cold?''

He finally looked up and at her, really looked at her,and for the first time this week, he didn't see the powerful and cold CEO, a stranger, but the young girl he once knew, her eyes full of dreams he had carelessly shattered.

''I'd watch out, if I were you, Max. You took everything from me. It's only fair I do the same.''

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

How are Squeeks and Mat doing? Is Mat getting stir crazy from being out so long? 😂

oh my little babies!!! they’re spending QUITE a bit of time together because of mat’s injury and while it’s nice, mat is definitely going nuts

(also ignore that there’s so many timeline issues because like technically, they should have an almost one year old talia, but i just make shit up at this point bc i don’t wanna write mat’s injury into the talia fics 🥲)

ANYWAY!! mat’s doing his rehab, being cranky while he does it because he hates missing so much time and not being able to help the team

squeaks is constantly cheering him on, bringing him to PT and encouraging his progress

with the team in san jose for the trade deadline, he’s extra miserable, keeping track of the news on twitter and giving squeaks updates on all the trades

he hates that brock is traded to colorado and he couldn’t say good bye, hates that he played his last game with brock and didn’t even realize it

after that bomb, he’s definitely a little upset and squeaks cuddles with him on the couch until he’s feeling better

they’re taking a lot of walks and doing little road trips to different towns to just get out of the house and see something else

squeaks made him binge watch running point on netflix and he won’t admit that he enjoyed it (also wouldn’t admit that he loved nobody wants this, but copped to liking abbott elementary)

they do a lot of reading on the couch, different books obviously, but under a shared blanket. mat tries to teach squeaks how to play chess, but she stinks and may complains that he misses the guys

when the team is home, they get dinner with the martins and hang out with the girls, or they go over and hang out at the horvats’

squeaks is definitely keeping mat occupied with blowjobs and lazy, teasing handjobs. once she gets the okay, she’ll straddle him and ride him until he’s making unintelligible noises and coming inside of her until he’s dry. she’ll sit on his cock and keep him warm for as long as he wants, which usually ends with mat giving his knee a workout from (carefully) fucking up into her

they’re planning their summer trip to see his parents and then to visit liana before doing a euro tour with her.

overall, they’re just being really domestic and adorable and keeping mat’s mind off his injury/rehab and his focus on getting back on the ice 🥹

[dazeymazey]

[ id: digital art of the characters from "Nature Cat". Nature Cat offers a pink lily to Hal, who kicks his leg up and says "awww!!", his hands clasped together near his face. he sniffs it then places it behind his ear, and starts happily twirling in place. Daisy and Squeeks are sitting down, and Daisy holds out a purple peony to her, who says "thanks lol". Squeeks stares at the flower for a moment before she starts eating it. end id ]

saw this post and thought "oh that's so Them"

[i-like-forcefem]

As a pre-hrt transfem, just got into the idea of forcefem. It’s such an euphoric idea, slowly being turned into something I want to be, as in a theatrical fashion I deny ever wanting such pleasantries. I could protest all I want yet in the end I’ll end up just like the rest; happy, euphoric dolls :3

Thank you for letting me explore this side of me

No problem at all doll! I wonder what you're little squeeks of protest would sound like, I really appriciate that you'd make them even though you'd love it, you really know how to make it fun for us, and we'll be sure to reward that kidness tenfold by making you the cutest doll ever!!!

[bowbowcherry]

Nsfw MDNI ×

Tojixfem!reader

×Thumb in ass,degradation, 69, spit, drool, spanking. Pubes. Squirt. F!cum swap. Hair pulling. Mention of pain play ig?. Gross at the end?×

I stayed up from 1 to now 6pm I am tired and I can't sleep :D I can't slant certain words without it doing the whole paragraph when I click off!!! . Uh baseball fic still working on cuz I'm lazy.

I feel like I didn't add as much sexy time but idk ill edit it to mix any mistakes n s8ch tomorrow or someday lol anyways make sure to reblog and like!!! Enjoy:

69 w/ toji!×

You slurp, both your hands at his base. His pubes tickleing your hands. Your drool, from sucking him deeper earlier, dripping down his hard cock onto your pretty, soft minecured hands. Like slime, it sticks. In the pubes ,everywhere. Eyes closed. Makeup smeared. If only you could see how much of a whore you look like. But it's all to impress fushiguro.

"Fuck baby.." He groans into your pussy. His thump playing with your tight rim. He licks you from your clit to your clenching pussy hole. Playing with the clenching muscle with his wet warm one. Then licking over Puffy fat swollen folds. Then back to your swollen peral of meat.

you trying to take that fat cock down your throat. His thigh muscles flexing. The feeling of your wet sticky tongue dragging over his tip, sucking. The hands at the base feeling them squeeze when he licks over a good spot. God, the high he's getting from all this. His whole body feeling sweaty and hot. Electrifying. Might be better then any drug If his eyes could roll back more they would. Your soft plumply thighs beside his head. Waiting to squeeze his head. Threatening and trembling to close as he flicks right to left on your puffy hard clit.

His thumb pushes past your tight rim. His other hand moves to slap your ass. The sound loud thur the room."H-haaah...toji.." One of your hand, now on his thigh your nails digging into his thigh like sharp cat claws. Leaving behind pretty red lines. You buck back on his tongue. He grabs your ass and slaps it again and again. Making it nice pretty red. God he wants to see it turn red and bruised. Just watching you try and get comfortable while sitting. God does love that. Drives him fucking insane. You squeezeing your thighs looking up at him with lusty and husky doe eyes. Fuck, his dick trys to bob. It throbs acheing to be touch with that warm mouth"Dirty. Nasty. Pain slut..go back to sucking that big dick like your ment to. Fucking freak...mmm" And he goes backs to licking and sucking. you do as your told. As you should.

You lick over his tip, before taking half of him in your mouth. Your hand one hand go's back to the base to steady the heavy rod. Your lips drags as you you move your head up and down. "Mmm.." your eyes roll. It's all to much. Feeling his tongue. The taste of his cock. The thumb moving in amd out your ass fast. Your head feels empty like a dog who got its food. So good and wanting more. You grind back on his face, your thighs squeeze his face. Your mouth let's go of your favorite candy to moan loudly into the air. Coming,That big boost of euphoric high. "TOJI!" You squeek, voice cracking as you spray your sticky and sweet juices into his mouth. Your hand one hand removing and going back to claw at his thigh the other gripping his base quite tightly. He couldn't say that he didn't like a little pain.

He's groans moving his thumb faster . He brings his other hand his pointer and middle finher rub your pulsing and twitcheing clit, side to side. Your squirt drenching his lower face, dripping down his neck and sticky face onto the bed. God he wants to cum he really can't take anymore of this. He can just feel his cock turn purple with need.

He collects some squrt in his mouth. the nice favor coating his whole mouth.he wants to swallow so bad but shareing is careing. Your panting, mind in a different place. Floating around somewhere in heaven like an angel. Your pushed off him, your face making contact with the bouncey bed. On your forearms. Creaking from your harsh movement. Your behind in the air. Quite a veiw for him Then your hair is grabbed from behind. A nice stinging ache feeling from it. Your pulled to face toji who is kneeling on the bed. The bed dipping around his knees. His toned thighs flexing, his cock bobbing here and there. His pubes to his happy trale. His abs, waist. His perked nipples. You feel yourself clench. everything is a perfect on this God.

Hand still in your hair he pulls it back so your neck is strain as you look up at him. Your face a mess. On all fours. Make up smeared heavy lidded eyes all hazy. Your pretty tits hanging. Gripping the sheets as he uses his other hand to to open your mouth. What a veiw His rough fingers grabbing roughly at your chin opening your mouth up. He leans close spitting his saliva and your liquid into your mouth. A nice good mouthful. "Drink it selfish slut." He grins at you when your face turns sour when it all hits your mouth. You swallow. His cock jumps, leaking like a broken sink. Fuck your perfect.

×

[ellielatinagf]

“Your hairs getting long”

Summary: Let’s pretend Dina, Ellie, and JJ are living happily ever after in Jackson:) Ellie and Dina exchanging conversations and a nice haircut for Ellie

An: believe me I’m working on Lacrosse ellie part 5 and I think part five will be the last chapter I just wanna figure out how I wanna end it LOL. This is a little bit of both Dina and Ellie’s pov. Enjoy:)

Warnings: angst????

*knock knock knock*

Dina slowly opened the door and peeped her head in the small room. Ellie whipped her head around to meet Dina’s gaze. Her expression softened when she saw those brown eyes. The same ones that light up her world, the ones that shine light in the darkness. Dina walked over to her now wife. Yup, wife. After Ellie got back from California of course Dina had to smack some sense into Ellie.

Flashback

“Are you hurt?” Dina squeeked softly. She held JJ in her arms. JJ was was already getting bigger. His hair was longer too. Thankfully Mr. Robinson, the Jackson Barber, had been patient in giving the little boy a haircut. Bless the poor man his eyesight has gotten a bit worse.

Ellie shook her head. She was too ashamed to look up at Dina. Much less look at JJ. She couldn’t bear the sight of seeing him more grown up. It would remind her of how much she had missed. The pain she would feel knowing he probably doesn’t remember her is unbearable.

Dina placed JJ don’t in front of her feet. She didn’t know why. She was so over flooded with emotions. Anger, sadness, relief. They all took stabs at her heart at the same time. JJ looked up at Dina confused but the looked at the sunburnt, green eyed, auburn woman.

Now Ellie was forced to look at the child. Her eyes weld up. His hair was longer. And choppily cut too. It wasn’t Dina who’d cut his hair, Dina does a better job. He resembled Jesse. Her heart ache. Her mind flooded with pictures of her last moment with the child’s father. She took a deep breath. Ellie opened her hand to reveal a small toy elephant. Ollie. She’d won it at the Jackson festival so long ago and had kept it. She remembered how JJ used to sleep with it at night.

JJ looked at what was in this mysterious woman’s hand. He smiled and waddled towards her. The blue dusty color caught his attention and likeness. He touched Ellie’s hand and look at Dina for approval of the toy. Dina hesitated but nodded slightly. JJ let out a happy chuckle and took the blue elephant. Ellie couldn’t help but smile.

Dina slowly walked forward. Maybe this was a dream. The same dream she’d had for the last year. Ellie in front of her. Ellie’s dead. This isn’t real. Her mind is playing tricks on her again. It often does this. When she is putting JJ to sleep she’ll think she caught a glimpse of Ellie’s figure in the shadow. This is the same thing.

*Smack*

Not exactly how she planned to prove the realness of the situation. Ellie winced. She knew she’d deserved it. To be honest she deserved worse. She would have preferred Dina slap her 100 times than to remind her of how much she had screwed up.

Dina looked at the hand print mark on Ellie’s cheek. The damage was worse due to her horrible sunburn. Dina looked around for JJ. Now she wonders if she had made a mistake to smack Ellie in front of Jj. She catches the boys rowdy hair and looks in his area. He was playing with a random street dog. Clutching Ollie in his little chubby fingers. Dina sighed and looked back at Ellie.

Ellie looked at Dina with teary eyes. Dina noticed something different in them thought. They weren’t the same dead eyes she used to have. They weren’t dull. They were bright and glossy. And not just because Ellie was crying a tsunami.

“I know” Ellie whispers “I know nothing will ever make you love me again”. She sniffs her nose so she can make out more words. “I know than no amount of apologies will ever be forgiven from me”.

Dina felt sadness hit her.

“But I love you”

That was it for her. Dina cried. Hard. She threw her arms around Ellie. She finally felt it again. She felt that same bubbly feeling in her heart. She doesn’t want to admit it’s love at the moment. But she feels it. Ellie took the girl in her arms and held her. She held Dina and wouldn’t let go. She secretly promised to never let her go.

After that day Ellie agreed to stay in Joel’s house. She wanted to give Dina and JJ time to create that bond with her. She didn’t want to force herself in their lives. She slowly started seeing Dina more and more. And JJ loved playing with Ellie. Ellie always said ‘I love you’ to Dina. Even if Dina never said it she knew that with time, she would.

JJ loved Ellie of course. And if wasn’t because of the fact that she always brought him something after patrols. One day ellie found something that caught her eye. A shiny diamond. It had already been 2 years since she saw Dina again. Dina always invites ellie over and Dina had been saying ‘I love you’. It’s time.

That night after JJ got his presents Ellie bent down on one knee in front of Dina. Part of her was thinking it’s too soon and was about to fake tie her shoes. But she asked Dina and showed the ring. Dina was over joyed and cried if happiness. She couldn’t have said yes any faster.

Flashback end

“JJ sleep okay?” Ellie asked.

“For a six year old, he was okay” Dina replied. She bent her head down to kiss Ellie’s forehead.

“Are you gonna head to bed?” Ellie asked. She looked at the canvas in front of her. She wanted to do a still life drawing of bowl of fruit. Was it cliché? Maybe, but she wanted to improve her art.

“Once you do” Dina said. She looked at the auburn hair. It was long. Probably an inch or two below Ellie’s mid neck. “Your hairs getting long” Dina thought out loud.

“Wanted to ask if you’d cut it for me” Ellie hummed softly and looked at Dina.

“Not Mr. Robinson?” Dina asked resting her head on Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie groaned quietly and Dina chuckled. Dina got up and grabbed a pair of scissors and a comb. Ellie put down her art supplies. She could finish tomorrow. Dina started to part Ellie’s hair and began cutting.

“Can I take JJ hunting?” Ellie asked.

“Don’t you think he’s a little too young?” Dina answered nervously.

“I only wanted to take him to the chicken field” Ellie asked. She didn’t want to throw the boy in the forest with clickers and wild boars. She probably would be hesitant for him to go out there even if he was 30 years old.

“The one in Jackson right? By Tommy’s house?”

“Mhm” ellie confirmed.

“….okay” Dina approved “but if either of you get so much as a paper cut, we’re getting food from the market for a year”. Ellie chuckled.

“You have my word babe” Ellie smiled.

“Are You scheduled for patrol this weekend?” Dina asked.

“Yeah, you need something?” Ellie asked.

“Do you think you can find some more shoes? His old ones will grow out soon” Dina said.

“That’s what happened when you feed him so much” Ellie chuckled.

“He’s a growing boy” Dina rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault he liked my cooking”.

“Can’t blame him for that. Unless it’s pasta.” Ellie chuckled. She smiled after she took a jab Dina by mentioning at the time Dina had burnt pasta sauce and let the water boil so much it overflowed. It wasn’t entirely her fault. In a way. Dina just took a nap.

“Don’t piss off the one with the scissors” Dina replied playfully tugging Ellie’s hair. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to prove her point.

“Still ate it” Ellie laughed.

“That’s what she said” Dina replied. Hanging around Ellie so much was severely effecting Dina’s humor.

After Dina finished with Ellie’s haircut they both had taken a shower together. Ellie laid in bed next to Dina and faced her. The two shared a kiss and locked eyes.

“I love you” Ellie said. Dina felt happy. Ellie had never been one to say I love you first. Not in a serious way that is. After she came back however, it’s like her motivation had changed. And Dina was glad that Ellie’s family is her priory.

“I love you too” Dina replied. Ellie sighed. The feelings of immense love was reciprocated. Everything was okay. Finally, she was at peace. She could breath again. Ellie could sit and stay in her mind and not feel herself be destroyed. She could stay like this forever.

Ahhhh thank you so much reading!!! Let me know if you enjoyed it! I loveeeee writing one shots and as much as I love writing Ellie x reader! I just Love writing Ellie x Dina! Uhhh not proofread.Have a great day and remember your all amazing! Free Palestine 🇵🇸

Taglists: @bready101 @vqxen @gato-chino @vampyangel @a-little-bit-of-everybody @abbysbraids @Lillylynne11 @Lively-blues @Yurixxiii

FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

[vipsunia]

Song of Nyra

an asoiaf story

ʚɞ timeline: before Robert’s rebellion

ʚɞ synopsis: a tale between the last two dragons of House Targaryen, and the end of the world.

II of VII

. . . RHAEGAR HAD WORN A black tunic and black breeches, his boots leather, a cape of red draping across one shoulder. He was mounted atop his black stallion, side by side with Ser Arthur Dayne. It wouldn't be reasonable to be grand. They were hundreds of leagues from Lannisport. Mud will dirty them and break their carts first before they could even grasp the throat of the west.

They have been marching for a week. Now, the party was camped at the edges of the River Road, spread across its feilds and rivers. They were near the Golden Tooth, but his father refused to be taken in the halls of the Leffords, muttering something about Lannister rats squeeking about as I sleep.

Rhaegar ran a hand across his hair, bound up in a leather cord at the back of his head. His calves were aching from days of colliding against the muscular flank of his stallion. He ought to be grateful for this slight reprieve. But how could he?

Their course depended on the fickle moods of Aerys Targaryen. There were days he commanded that the party must ride until the moment he decides to halt, and days where he'd stay in his tent without being seen for two sunrises. It was . . . tiring. He could only clench his jaw.

Rhaegar let out a breathy exhale. It was night. Across the encampment, smoke from cookfires twirled heavenwards to the skies, surrounded by men merrily sloshing Sour Reds in wineskins, telling stories and jests, while wenches hung on their arms.

The court had battled eachother for a place in the inn nearby. Those who lost were forced to set up tents beneath the clouds. It was the better choice, really. The inn's featherbeds were hard as bedrock. Just this morning, a lady had woken up screaming, red from bedfleas. His father didn't care. The old king had a colony of his own in that beard of his.

Rhaegar silently made his way into the inn. The feast was finished, and attendants were clearing away the meats and goblets scattered like birdshit on the tresle tables. He climbed the creaking wooden steps to the rooms above.

Two ladies were lingering by the stone window, pausing from their gossip at his arrival. They smiled at him, batting their eyes demurely. Prince Rhaegar, good evening.

He smiled at them, nodding his head. My ladies. He was quick to make his escape until they seize him in conversation. The thought frightened him, to be stalled by the halls and indulge in idle chatter. There was something about it that he couldn't bear.

The room he entered quietly was plain and common, with only chair and a table, and a featherbed tucked beneath a wood-panelled window. He sighed, relieved.

"I hate this, Nyra. I feel like I'm useless."

"Against what?" Rhaenyra asked as a handmaid untied the laces of her red gown. "Against papa?"

"Against everything," he muttered, taking a seat on the bed. He could feel it now as he had not before - the slow setting of his fatigue weighing down upon his shoulders, the growing ache of calves ringing upwards to his thighs. Seven Hells.

Rhaenyra raised a brow, not bothering to answer him.

His sister could care less of what's happening beyond her wheelhouse. He knew she had her own war to fight in that chamber she's forced to share with their father. He would see her stumble out the doors covered in bile, hers or their father's? It was hard to tell. Sometimes, she was even half-drunk.

Rhaegar watched her step out of the gown pooled around her ankles in nothing but a shift, her flesh bleeding in the scarce candlelight. She plucked her ivory comb, bidding the handmaid leave.

Her silver hair dripped down her spine, gleaming at each sift of the sawtooth. He was tempted to ask her if she started to itch from - who knows? - fleas, but he was too weary, though it was soon replaced by a sudden anger.

It bothered him so much, the way she moved so slowly, so unhurriedly, as if she wore the numbers of time as pretty rings on her perfumed knuckles. Can't she see it? All this?

"Stop that," he muttered.

She raised a brow. "What?"

"Stop it, Rhaenyra. I can't take it when you do that."

She was confused and irked. "Do what, Rhaegar?"

His eyes followed the leisure drag of the comb through her curls. It seemed to rake against his own skin, breaking the delicate veins beneath. Gods, damn it all. He stood up abruptly, roughly swiping his palm's heel across his forehead. He doesn't like this.

"I need to leave," he grit his teeth. "We need to leave."

She laughed at that. "Try your fortune with father. His mood seems to be quite jolly today."

"Is it?" Rhaegar mumbled, not the least bit hopeful. He knew his lord father well enough to know that one thing is often the other.

"Oh yes, I heard him tell the fireplace."

A long, deep breath left Rhaegar's nose. Closing his eyes, he laid stiffly on the hard featherbed in defeat, finding no comfort in it at all. He was still dressed in his riding tunic. Lonmouth had changed it two days ago. He was covered in dust and sweat, smelling of horses.

He cursed, throwing an arm across his tired eyes. They have been hampered in this inn for three nights too long. The men didn't seem to mind, the court didn't. Rhaenyra especially. But Rhaegar? He shook his head.

"You're tired," Rhaenyra said almost spitefully.

"So what if I am?" He purposely asked spitefully.

She rolled her eyes and settled down at his side, her body warm and soft. "There's no cause in fretting over the inevitable. Let papa do as he likes, he can't keep us here away forever."

"Who knows with father?" He hissed. "He's fine rotting in his rooms all day, who's to say he doesn't wish the same for us?"

"You're being ridiculous. Even he has his limits."

"Really? Did you hear him confide that to the fireplace too?"

When no response came, he lifted his arm slightly to see Rhaenyra glaring at him through her lashes, her rosebud mouth set in a scowl. If he was in better spirits, he would've remedied it with a jest. He wasn't though. She could frown all she likes.

Silence came like a swarm of locusts after that. They laid together in the flickering candlelight, the faint bustle and rowdy jeers of the encampment beyond the inn filling his ears. He had half a mind of inviting Richard or Arthur for a spar in the deep woods but the dull soreness in his joints stopped him, and he found his sister's warmth to be quite remedying.

Rhaenyra shifted slightly. Her hand was on his belly, feeling its steady rise and fall, before she started to caress it. He closed his eyes. Her fingers drifted lower and lower, slipping past his trousers. He felt her brush the course white hairs there, drawing the heat of his loins.

She grasped his soft member, stroking languidly against the plush flesh of her palm. He could not think of anything softer. His breathing became shallow. None of them spoke. Rhaegar untied his trousers deftly with one hand, the other rubbing her round-shaped rear. She sat up, gathering her curls on one shoulder.

The silence of the chamber was brushed with the soft clicking of her lips delving up and down on his hard cock, saliva dripping on his thigh. The muscles of his jaw flickered, his teeth gritting. Her mouth was a sweet, wet thing that roused him more than the act itself. It eased his tension.

Rhaenyra, he breathed, holding the back of her graceful neck.

Her pink little tongue jutted forward to give him licks, like a small kitten drinking milk. He groaned. Rhaenyra.

Rhaegar stiffened, his lips pulling back in a sneer as his seed rushed out of him, spilling into her teeth. She pulled back, wiping it off of her cheek. They stared at each other without speaking.

"I'll speak to papa," she said.

He nodded. "Thank you."

"Rest, Rhae."

The rest of Rhaegar's restlessness had been taken away by her lips and by her voice, by the way her eyes fluttered and the way she was there, holding him. In this light, with their skins touching, they were almost one.

Rhaenyra settled herself on the pillows, pulling his head into the curve of her shoulder and neck. It was soft as cream. She hummed to him, brushing his hair with her delicate fingers. The world seemed to fade away. The night seemed to deepen. He closed his eyes and slept.

Rhaenyra waited until her brother was deep in his sleep before she carefully slipped her arms from him to stand, fastening a red velvet robe around her waist. Though it was summer, chill nibbled at the tips of her ears. Her flesh was in want for his warmth. His fire.

In the faint candlelight, she glanced at him one last time - his face, just countless moments ago so taught with agitation, was loose and gentle. He was beautiful like this, her twin brother.

She turns towards the door, closing it shut. The hall of the inn was short, quiet.

"Ser," she greeted.

Ser Barristan Selmy stood guard outside her father's rooms in his white cloak and white armor, his snowy white beard almost making him appear Targaryen. He was tall, regal. Wizened. A thought crossed her head.

Was this what her father ought look like? A king not only in name, but in face?

The kingsgaurd bowed his head in regard. "Princess."

"Is the king awake?" She asked quietly. There was something so criminal in breaking the silence of these simple halls.

"I could not say, my princess," Ser Barristan admitted gravely. "His Grace's squire had not left his rooms, but to fetch the food taster and a cup of poppy milk."

Rhaenyra nodded, thanking him. She would see her father. She would speak to him as she promised Rhaegar; but if he's asleep, she would still see him. A day hasn't gone by where she hasn't gone to him since they left the Gate of the Gods. It felt right.

The kingsguard parted the wooden door for her. The stench of piss and woodsmoke burned her nose. She found her lord father sitting in a wicker chair by the stone hearth, the cackling flames glowing on his pale, guant face. His squire stood not close by, attending to the beddings of the King's own bed rolled in from the wheelhouse.

Her father's thin lips moved in muttering beneath his soiled beard, his claws digging back and forth against the chair's armrest. He was naked underneath a heavy robe sewn with the sigil of their house. Rhaenyra could see the scabs that riddles his chest, the welts he had scratched.

She padded towards him, the untouched goblet of poppy milk on a lone table not lost to her. She was vigilant. One must learn a pattern of walk if they wished him not to flinch. She had mastered such arts at nine.

Rhaenyra folded down beside his spindly legs, leaning at his thigh.

The flames within the hearth was bright, fed all throughout the eve by fresh logs. Even in his chambers in the Red Keep, braziers and hearths must be kept on night and day. A line of servants had been specifically tasked for it. Her father claimed that a Targaryen should always be near fire, and fire should always be near to a Targaryen.

There was a quality of wisdom to it that made her nod. Her father had been wise once, and sometimes he offered her glimpses of it. Sometimes. Times rarer as the years fly by. She could only watch.

Is there anything more tragic than the fading of a promised greatness? Rhaenyra knew her father prime had been a long time ago. Everyone said so. As a boy, he charmed and was charmed. He loved music. He sought to build a city of marble by the banks of the Blackwater Rush. He dreamt of bringing back fertility to the sand mountains of Dorne.

The mind. Could it be taken away just as swiftly as it was given? If so, who are the theives to blame? She'd say the gods if she only believed in them. Rhaegar did. Perhaps she could ask him. Her brother is the closest thing there is to divinity.

She was suddenly frightened. Rhaegar. She thought about his greatness, his wonderful dreamer of a mind. Will it be stolen from him too?

It will be the worst of crimes. If it were the gods to do that, Rhaenyra will believe in them so she could take up swords and slay them all. Rhaegar is Azor Ahai. No god could change that.

Rhaenyra looked up at her father. He hasn't noticed she was there yet. Mostly likely he wouldn't. His eyes were feverish, clouded by something she couldn't name. She took his pox-scarred hand and pressed it to her cheek. Her papa. King Aerys Targaryen is her father first before anything, and anything lesser than that didn't matter.

Rhaenyra rose to her feet. "On the bed, papa."

For the first time for what she would say hours, he looked away from the hearth and glanced up at her. He scowled, a deep gash that stretched further the lines of his rough face, but he said nothing when she took his arm.

Her father was heavy despite the fragility of his frame. All skin and rigid bones. He barely ate. "Help me," she commanded the squire. Together, they lumbered the old king to the bed. "Fetch the poppy and leave us."

Like hard reed being bent, the king dumped himself heavily on the sheets, grunting. Rhaenyra propped pillows behind him, rubbing his back.

"Have you eaten, papa?" She placed her hand on his face, the jutting cheekbones cutting her.

He grounds his yellow teeth. "I have no trust in what they feed us here . . . that food taster, mayhaps he had been trained in the dark arts in immunity. What is safe for him would be the death of me, their king."

"Should we put that to the test?" She offered, taking the poppy milk from the squire. "Rip the food taster's belly open and see if he has the marks of the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai?"

A gruff chortle left her father's throat. "That would be most pleasing to see," he grinned. "But we have no need of delays. Wildfire is our answer. It will burn all the treacheries from his blood."

The silver hairs on her flesh rippled. Wildfire. Had her family, the dragonlords of Old Valyria, become so powerless so as to look to lesser flames for control? She pursed her lips.

"I have a more efficient method, papa," she said, taking a small sip of the poppy. Moments pass. She didn't convulse violently on the floor. If anything, she felt her eyes droop heavy. "It's untouched. Drink."

The king was furious. He glared at his daughter, displeased with her carelessness. "Men would rejoice at the death of dragoneggs as they would dragons."

"But I'm not dead, see?" Rhaenyra pressed the cup to her father's mouth. "Drink."

King Aerys reluctantly drank, the slight, permanent shake on his hands and head rattling the goblet. When he had enough, he whisked it away. "Pah!"

"Lie down," Rhaenyra said, tucking the blankets around him. He was grumbling to himself.

"Tywin Lannister cannot be trusted," he muttered. "I know him. I do. I can smell his ploys, daughter. What does he hope to achieve in this tourney? To celebrate your brother's birth? No, more likely his death. Or something else entirely, something worse."

"Unlikely, papa."

His blistered hand shot to grasp her wrist. "We should turn back and return to King's Landing," he whispered, spit at the corners of his mouth. "We would be surrounded by lickspittles and rats, but they're ours. Ours. Who knows what blades await for us in Casterly Rock? They fear dragons no more, they shall -"

"- Do nothing," Rhaenyra tugged his grasp away then pressed him to the bed, kissing his sweating forehead. "Sleep, papa. Tomorrow, we move west."

"Rhae, why did you stop?"

He blinked, returning his gaze to his sister. He hadn't realized his fingers had stilled on his harp.

On the middle of a clearing among rotting leaves and bits of toadstools, Rhaenyra had her hands on her hips, giving an accusing glare. She was practicing a dance she would perform in the feast in Lannisport. She told no one but Rhaegar along with a few of her women who'd dance with her.

Now, she wore a simple red dress without sleeves to fend away the summer heat, her arms like pale vines, while her curls were bound in a velvet net. The bottom lining of her skirts were smudged in mud.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Should we go again, sister? I was distracted."

She huffed. "By what?"

He shrugged. "The gods, maybe. They're here."

He doesn't hide his thoughts from her, not when she could see it plainly in his face. He had tried several times but she'd pry and pry until he would relent. There was little she didn't know about him, and it was the same for her. He knew everything in her head. Every abomination, every impulse, every whim.

Rhaenyra raised her brow. "How do you know that?"

"Look around us, Nyra. Don't you feel them? Hiding behind barks, watching us this very moment?"

She looked around. "The children of the forest."

He smiled, leaning against the boulder at his back. He was surrounded by mugworts brushing at his sides, dotted by small red-back lady bugs. "I don't really believe they've dissapeared when the Andals came. They were born in these lands, and would die in it."

"You don't know that," she padded to sit by his legs, placing her chin over his knee. "You speak as if you know those creatures personally, that you can vouch for their character."

"I don't," he admitted. "But if men could be resolute, how harder is the will of the divine? They're everything we're not, Nyra."

"And we're everything they're not," she countered. "You've always been cynical about what man could do. You're hopeless for your own race. That's treachery."

He chuckled. "Well, would you blame me? What capabilites we have, we waste on doing the worse."

"That is . . . ?"

"War," he began. "Pillaging. Thievery. Bloodshed. Rape. We've never evolved from the iron age of barbarity. Brothers kill brothers, friends turn on friends, fathers become madmen."

She stared at him for a long while, allowing the silence to fester between them. "They don't know it, but your poetry had always been political."

"I write and sing of what I see," he smiled sadly.

A league from where he and his sister sat in the woods, the party had dismounted for a small feast. Tywin Lannister himself had met Rhaegar as they approached Deep Den, to welcome the king to the west.

The Lord of Casterly Rock had laid out tresle tables filled with smoked ham and mutton, platters of barley bread, iced pitchers of wine. It was bountiful enough to feed the entire royal host. His lord father only grumbled though, wary of his Hand's benevolence. He refused to leave the wheelhouse.

Rhaegar, after indulging Lord Tywin in pleasantries for a moment, had whisked Rhaenyra away on horseback. They haven't seen much of another since the inn.

"There you are again," she said softly, reaching to swipe a finger across his lips. "The cynic. I like my brother better than him. Give Rhae back to me."

"At what cost?" He humoured her.

"A kiss."

"A kiss?"

She nodded. A kiss. From his sister, his Rhaenyra. He could think of little things that could compare to that. Dragonback? Dragons had long been dead. But he had kissed Rhaenyra a thousand times, and each time his soul ascended.

"A kiss it is," he smiled. "And you shall have your Rhae back."

Rhaenyra bent forward. He closes his eyes, but parted them again in shock at her palm pushing his face away. Her laughter echoed in the solemn air.

"You can keep him," she grinned, rising to her feet. Rhaegar glared at her. "However, would you join me for a bath, cynic? The river had been calling to me for quite a while."

"Don't bare your neck in front of cynics or they'll show you how cynical they could get," he grumbled, rubbing his jaw. She rolled her eyes at that.

Rhaenyra ran to the sloping banks of the icy black river, unbinding the restraints of her hair. Curls flew behind her like silver wings. She glanced back at him, grinning.

Rhaegar settled his harp on the boulder, standing to follow at her trails. He began to slide his leather jerkin off as she unribboned the laces of her dress, the ground littered by bits of their cloths.

The canopy of the trees were so dense and so thick, sunlight failed to pass through. It was cooler here, darker. They were both hidden from the sun of summer. Their nakedness were seen by no one but themselves.

Rhaenyra snatched Rhaegar's wrist. She dipped her toes into the rushing, coal-like water, hissing at its coldness. She retreated. "Actually, I don't want to -"

Rhaegar seized her in his arms and carried her down, ignoring her shrieking. The river was cold. He'd grown so used to heat that it caught him unaware, sharp as daggers. But it's alright. Her back, pressed to his chest, was all the warmth he needed.

"You like that?" He whispered at the cusp of her ear, waist-deep in the river. The pebbles beneath his feet were cool and smooth.

Rhaenyra pushed him off. "This is freezing. Dragons don't like the cold."

"I thought the river had been calling to you?" He chuckled, watching her shiver slightly.

"A call I shouldn't have answered," she wrinkled her nose. She held herself tightly, half of her curls damp on her back.

Rhaegar sat quietly over the dark soil of the banks, looking at her. It was as if she was a nymph of these woods, made of moonlight and stardust. She glowed brightly above the waters.

He smiled to himself, understanding why Durran Godsgrief refused to give back Elenei to her godly parents. He had built Storm's End to keep her by his side.

Rhaenyra grew used to the water's temperature, wading across to gaze upon strange-shaped rocks and colorful mushroom growing on fallen, rotting trees. What would I build to be with her? He asked himself. Valyria.

"Rhae, have you ever been to the North?"

Blinking from his daze, he raises his brow. "Not yet, but I want to someday. A king must see all of his kingdoms."

"By then, Brandon Stark is the Lord of Winterfell," she said, brushing her silver hair. "I heard the North is beautiful . . . the wildest and the freest of all the seven realms. I want to see it too, Rhae."

"What else?" He asked, leaning forward. Her cheeks were red from the water's chill.

She grinned. "Their weirwood tree, maybe. They say it has a ghastly, terrifying face. That it is the face of the old kings of winter, who wails that it was their blood who first bent their knee to Aegon."

He laughed. "Is that all?"

"I want to see Lyanna Stark," she added, wading towards him, her hips round and gleaming beneath the currents. "We'll be friends, her and I. Fire and Ice together."

He nods. His sister had a smile that made the world fall back.

"Will you take me, Rhae?"

Rhaegar reached forward and pulled her into his arms, her breasts pushed upon him. "Where I am, you will be," he said. "From the godless lands of Vaes Dothrak to the thousand miles beyond the Wall."

"Rhaegar and Rhaenyra," she nuzzled their noses together. "To Valyria."

He kissed her lips. "To Valyria."

next act (loading . . . )

[ilylmwwifys]

ー𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓

JOUNO X READER (AFAB/AMAB)

WARNING : Use of petname, mentions of killing

Drabble, headcannons, short scenarios, fluff, not proofread

You're a Scientist (mad scientists) in the Hunting Dog while Jouno as your Partner.

You would have your own room, ITS PRETTY BIG.

Your labー workplace or whatever you wanna called it would probably have a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom -- basically its like your house now, but it's bigger than your house 💀

You would have a room filled with cryogenic capsule, insides are filled with erm.. Body parts.

^ animal, human, aliens, you name it

You would also have a smaller version of cryogenic capsuleー but this time filled with a single finger, or toe, maybe a small portion of an organ in it.

You almost accidentally made a virus.

You would go BEYOND all moral and physical laws in the name of science to prove your crazy theory.

When you created a virus, you didn't tried to get rid of it, instead you experimented it on an animal💀

You have rats in your lab (they didn't last long💔)

Would probably have a dead rat on those cryogenic capsules.

You spend almost your time in your lab.

Jouno daily visits your lab- it's to ask for the results he requested since your faster than those forensic scientists or he just wanna be with you and hear the rhythm of your heartbeats.

He would just sit in one of the chairs as he sips his tea while he peacefully hear you're heartbeats.

Would tease you when you had a hard time doing something, such as providing your one of crazy theories.

He would hear the rat squeeks- if you ended up not killing it.

He would sense the previous rat fur and WILL make a comment about it.

"Hm? Did you get rid of the previous rat? Too bad I liked them. " trust me HE DOESN'T.

Jouno would be pleased when you rid of the rats very fast but soon will be unpleased when you get another one.

You probably would ask Teruko to capture a rat for you💀💀

He could hear your hand brushing the metalic instruments.

Would bring you tea or coffee.

Would find you sleeping on your desk.

You WOULD exhaust yourself just to prove your theories, and when I mean exhaustー LITERALLY, to the point Jouno can't help but be worried.

He would suddenly sneak his arms on your waist as he nestled his head on your shoulders.

When you miserably failed to prove your theories he WOULD tease you.

"Awh, is the Great scientists miserably failed to approve their theories?"

You're incrediblely logically smart and he admires that.

You made a rat so AGGRESSIVE, so aggressive that it got out and started biting people.

The people it bited turned into a weird ass creatures and started to bite other people.

EVERYONE FREAKED OUT.

Bullets dont work, so you decapitate those things.

You SECRETLY sneak one in your lab.

Their in a cage.

Jouno easily found this out, a bit dissapointed but understand your reasons.

"Sai, its a virus, obviously I need to know a cure for itー in case it happened again, heh." that wasn't actually your reason.

You would request an area to be made with sound proof walls and put those creatures in their so Jouno wouldn't be unpleasant of the noise, since they are an aggressive creatures.

Before he would leave for a mission, you would ask him for a person to experiment

He would stop at his tracks.

"Oh also Sai, could you maybe bring me a Human? Dead or notー just not a missing of their limb or organs." You spoke up looking at your microscope.

Jouno was on his way to leave until he stopped at his movements, slightly shocked, before a smirk plastered on his face "What for?" He teased turning his head at your direction.

You sighed taking your head of the microscope "So I can feed it."

He chuckled before proceeding to walk "Sure thing, dear."

In the end, you got the human.

-

"Dear?" He called out, grabbing the doorknob and twisting itー to find your figure sleeping peacefully in your desk.

Hearing your breathing and heartbeatー he smiled warmly before placing the cake and coffee he bought for you at the nearby café.

Kissing your forehead he left the room, not bothering to disturb your sleep.