#THE ONLY RIGHT WAY TO DRINK WATER /j

[yet-to-be-seagrass]

Me: *doesn't drink water for a few days* oh fuck, it's been a few days, gotta get on that

Also me: *fills up my water bottle, adds flavoring, and FUCKING CHUGS IT* oof, too much water... stummy sloshing... :(

[fanaticsnail]

You Deserve Better

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist here

Word Count: 5,835

Synopsis: Zoro has inhaled pollen while lost and away from his crew. His crew return from a day of celebration and tease him for is senseless navigational skills. But you notice something's wrong with him. He's hot. So, so hot. And he needs your help to combat his illness. You want to help him so badly, why won't he let you get Chopper? And why was he holding you like that?

Warnings: Pollen!Zoro x afab!reader, smut, mdni, p in v, mutual pining, apprehension, longing, giving in, pollen, NSFW.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314

Notes: This was the brain child between me and sordid from waaay back when. Needed to be finished, and here it is!

Zoro had gotten lost, his own confident footing carrying him in a rhythmic trudge towards where he assumed the meeting place for the crew was occurring. It was only when he apprehensively knocked on a door of a strange hut, asking the resident for directions, that he was made painfully aware of truly how far away he was from the coordinates. He missed lunch, he missed the meeting and introductions of the town; his absence truly being noticed due to his status as first-mate to the Straw-Hat Pirate crew. 

Turning back around, he began the long trek to the docks. His shoulders crushed with unfamiliar twigs, branches, bushels and foreign leaves he was yet to learn the proper names for. Losing his footing, his right foot fell within a small catchment; a deep puddle of water causing him to stumble in his footing, and fall face-first into a bushel of white flowers. He coughed, the pollen entering his lungs through his nostrils and parted lips. 

“What the fuck,” he growled, swiping at his face and blowing puffs of air from his nose and gasping for breath. The floral scent stung at his eyes, a rasp catching in his throat and forcing his Adams apple to bob painfully as he gulped his collected saliva in to rid the tang from his tongue. 

Sneezing, coughing and sputtering all the way back to the ship, he felt strange. His skin felt hot, his clothes were scratching his skin and overwhelming him beneath the fibers of mixed cotton and twine. He was too hot, he was too sweaty and he was– –what was this feeling? No stranger to rage, anger and frustration; he simply pegged it to be one of the three as he continued to stumble-trip his way back to the ship; his dampened boot leaving a trail of mud behind him.

After his boots finding residency back in familiar territory, he slowly made his way below deck to the kitchen. If he could just avoid everybody, take a drink of water and a shower, he was sure that would quench this rising feeling in his chest. Everything was burning; his face, his esophagus, his chest, his thighs, his calves, his cock —- why was everything so hot?

Of course the cook was in the kitchen, where else would the waiter be at a time like this. Sanji’s lips were moving, his tone lengthy, low and likely taunting him. Zoro paid him no heed, focussing on slowly breathing as his body propelled itself forward to follow through the motions. Just get to the cupboard, get a cup, take the cup to the sink, fill the cup with cool water, drink the cool water, place the cup in the sink, go to his bunk for the night, strip himself naked, furiously pull his cock until his cum painted the inside of one of his old socks, and finally rest. That is what would fix his ailment, he’s certain of it. 

Instead, his small calculated routine was halted before he placed the cup back into the sink; his thirst quenched.  Following his meticulously thought out actions were stopped by the burning initiated by Sanji’s hand placement on his shoulder, gripping him to gain his attention.

“-there were so many beers and ales, and you didn’t get to sample any of them,” Sanji dryly laughed his taunt back into Zoro’s shoulder. Sanji was expecting Zoro to taunt him back, their comradery being one built on mutual taunts and jabs. Instead, Zoro clenched his jaw harder, his hand almost shattering the cup he was placing in the sink beneath his firm grip. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sanji asked him firmly, pushing the swordsman’s shoulder to turn him to face his grey-blue hues. Zoro kept his eyes shut, his jaw almost breaking with how tightly his teeth were wrenched together. Feeling another rise of the scratchy tickle within his throat, he had no time to bring his palm up to stifle the cough - a small amount of the foreign pollen extending from Zoro’s lips into Sanji’s breathable oxygen. 

“Fuck, man, cover your mouth next ti-,” Sanji’s pupils immediately dilating, his waterline swelling with glossy water, “-why doI-I-...” Sanji felt the effects immediately. Eyes widening with panic, a warm blush rising to Sanji’s cheeks, he fled his grip against the swordsman’s shoulder and hastily sprinted out of the kitchen to barricade himself in his crew quarters. 

Zoro grinds his teeth, clenches the bench to steady himself against it - nearly breaking with how hard he's clutching it in his white-knuckled grip. Breathing exclusively through his nose, hissing as the elevation of his lungs propels further torture and the flushed heat downwards to sit in his abdomen. Every part of himself was now tense, hard and fighting this rise of emotion. 

Alerting Nami you were going to the kitchen to see if everything was okay with the swordsman, his absence missed by the Straw-Hat crew as you all ate foreign foods, drank foreign drinks and learnt the customs of this unfamiliar land. You saw Sanji rush past you, his irises wild, on your way to the area Zoro sat. You became even more unsettled seeing Zoro red-faced and seemingly in excruciating pain as he gripped the sink and benchtop to steady himself against it. 

You closed the door of the kitchen behind you, slowly approaching the green-haired first-mate and presenting your palms out to indicate you were not a threat. 

“Zoro?” you asked him, keeping your voice quiet but firm, “Are you okay? Is something the matter?”

“I’m fine,” he spat in a winced growl, his eyes clamped shut, “Just get out and leave me alone.” 

You furrowed your brows at his harsh tone, unsure of what exactly is coming over him. Both the tone and words catch you by surprise. You almost always kept each other company; finding one another at the end of a grueling battle, sitting side by side at meal times, and often repairing damage to each other’s bodies that were ill-achieved by yourselves. Beyond that, he’s never sent you away. While you’ve seen him snap at others, you’ve yet to be on the receiving end - especially for simply asking him how he is.

Instead of listening to his verbal words of warning, you approached him. While his eyes were shut, you knew he didn't need them open to keep track of your approach. You knew this was a fact for sure when you see his lips curl into a grimace as you get closer, prompting you to wonder if you really should just leave. 

Truthfully, the reason for the grimace was coming from the fact he can hear every shuffle of your clothing dragging itself against your body. Your soft breathing rang melodically in his ears, the scent of your warm, spiced perfume dancing with the comforting smell of your skin held his every follicle rising on edge. He was having to pull his mind to reign it in, tethering it on a tight leash to keep it from gnawing on the idea of what it’d smell like if he pressed his nose into your hair or neck or chest. How you’d taste as he gnawed on the flesh of your stomach, how burying his face between your thighs and dancing his tongue against your tender flesh would feel-.

“-You’re making me worry, Zoro,” your soft voice called to him, the small pat of your footsteps indicating to the broody swordsman that your approach was now uncomfortably close. The back of your hand lands on his forehead to check his temperature and he pulls back like you’ve burned him. 

“What’s wrong-,” he’s struggling to form the words through the images of your thighs spreading beneath his firm grip. “What’s wrong,” his deep inhale through his nose did little to settle his elevated heartbeat, “Is that you’re touching me when I told you to go away.” 

He finally opened his eyes and you were struck with the intensity of them. His snarling mouth, furrowed brow, and scrunching eyelids certainly looked furious, but his eyes were glossy and shaky and darkened by blown pupils.

“Zoro, did you take something? Should I get Chopper?” Sighing out a small breath through your lips, looking between the hazelnut hues of Zoro’s eyes and forming your own deductions. He wanted to close his eyes again because you looked so, so pretty. Too pretty not to touch. 

Your eyes widened in confusion as he began to sway forward towards you. He was moving in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times, those times when he’d manage to find enough alcohol to actually become inebriated under the influence of its fermentation. 

“Zoro, I’m-,” he lunged in a deep stoop, falling forward to let his face fall into your stomach below your breasts. Allowing a deep inhale, he exhaled a low, shuddered groan into your skin. His body shivered and you feared this may be the worst fever you’ve ever seen of him. No injury, inebriation nor affliction had ever found purchase enough against the first-mate to cause you to worry - until now. 

“I’m gonna get you some help, okay?” You informed him, stepping back to get Chopper, only halting your exit as two hands stopped you. One fisted tight enough into your shirt for the seams to pop in protest, while the other sank into your hip. 

“Don’t,” he panted. This whole interaction has left you at a loss but you were truly astonished when Zoro nuzzled his face into you and massaged his hand into your hip. “You’re not going anywhere,” he grumbled, letting his voice vibrate against you through your clothes.

“Yes I am. You’re not okay, and I have to take care of you,” you hardened your resolve, reaching down and banding your hands around his wrists. 

If it were any other time, his heart would be aching at the worry in your tone. He adored how you cared for him, feeling all of your concern for his well being. However, at this current moment; he can only think of how your voice is so pretty and your body is so warm. And your scent, the intoxicating aroma your glistening skin was whispering and beckoning him to fall trap to your body. How could anyone smell so, so sweet?

You managed to actually get a step back, breaking the brace against his body and placing his hands away from you. Zoro is strong in his grip, but your concern had you force more strength than you thought you could muster. You heard a small rumbled sound, high in pitch and lengthy in elevation. 

Zoro whined. 

He had the gall to whine at you, making your hair stand on end to be thrown so far from your norm. With you at a distance, Zoro’s strength really did leave him. Your absence drained him, his body deprived of a necessity while writhing. He was a man starving with not a single scrap of sustenance, parched without a single drop of liquid to quench him.

His resolve hardened, his unanswered questions being answered with that single thought. You were a necessity. You would fix whatever this was; he just had to sink himself into by claw, tooth and nail you until no person could possibly tear him off of you.

You watched the towering form of the first-mate sink hopelessly onto his knees, his arms first reaching and clutching for you as soon as you shied away from his embrace, before stuttering them away in retreat. He was trembling, his hands resting on his large thighs with his head hanging low to shield his eyes from your gaze. 

"Zoro," you softly called to him, bringing yourself low and resting your weight on your shins. Inching your way forward, you witnessed him suck in a breath and hold it in his chest with his eyes scrunched tightly shut.

"Zoro," you said, reaching your hands down and claiming his wrists in your circular grip, "if you don't want me to get Chopper," you released one of his wrists to collect his chin, "you have to tell me how to help you. What do you want? What can I do?"

Zoro fought harder against himself, every fiber of his being forcing him to continue to hold his breath to halt his urgency to claim you within his arms and never let you go. All of his thoughts were consumed with you: your scent, your softness, your voice, the way you tainted the air with your sweet flavor he desired to taste. He slowly, apprehensively, hissed out a breath, his shoulders quivering and shaking under the influence of the pale pollen propelling his unholy desires and sinful thoughts forward. 

"I w-want," he began, halting his words and wincing under your fingertips. Although your touch burned him, he could not bring himself to shy away from your hand. The way you felt, the way you so desperately craved for him to speak his desires and birth them within the air. He stifled once more, every second passing led to more of his control over himself lessening. 

"Zoro, let me help you. Whatever you need, know that I'm-," your words were claimed from you, Zoro's towering form caging your body beneath his strong arms. He hovered above you, eyes black with lust and lips parted with longing. He was an animal, the temperature falling off of him elevating your own beneath it. 

Wasting not one more second, he collapsed on-top of you, bringing his lips down and pressing rough and desperate kisses along your neck and jaw. All passion: tongue, teeth, lips and caresses - Zoro was consuming you as if he was a man starved and desperate for sustenance only you were able to give him.

The whining, the whimpering, the groaning as his hips begin to roll against your thigh we're spurring your confusion to swirl within the recesses of your mind. While unable to fully process the actions, Zoro began pleading with you; his hot breath against the shell of your ear sending a shiver up your spine. 

"I can't-... I-I can't stop," he growled, continuing to rut himself against you. The rough smack of his clothed hips did nothing to hide his impressive length and girth from you. His grinding down into you, the way your body writhed beneath him, propelled him enough to staple you to the ground beneath his hips. 

A strong arm had snuck its way beneath you, a splayed hand could keeping your chests pressed flush while his other guided your thigh over his hip. You eagerly wrapped both legs around him to pull him impossibly closer, feeling his taut muscles move and shift under your hold. 

He forced both of his hands to your hips, intending to hold them still and pull away, but you rolled them in his grip. His eyes followed suit, rolling back and leaving him to blindly bury his face deeper into your shoulder. “Please let me, I’m s-so so sorry, I cant-...hnng-... I c-can't stop. I n-need you-uu.”

"It's okay, it's okay Zoro," you gasped, your cheeks pressing firmly against his as you heard him stagger his breath and hold onto every word. You raked your fingers through his moss-coloured locks, reassuring him and soothing him by whispering your silencing shushes. Although some dark part of you wanted to continue listening to him beg for you, you instead offered only support and continual reassurance.

You turned your cheek inwards, breaking contact flush against his cheek to press a small brush of your own lips against his smooth skin. This apprehensive and timid gesture prompted him to groan beneath your lips as his skin ignited further. 

“More,” he mumbled fervently after the kiss, the affection doing much more to ease his stress than your words were, “Give me more.” The gentle peck was too achingly sweet to only placate him, instantly holding him hostage to his need to feel more of you. 

The squeeze of your legs on his waist, and the heat he could feel pressed against his cock even through your clothes, strung him tighter and pulled him further from sanity. The hand in his hair and the brush of your lips, made the haze on his mind feel welcome; The boiling in his veins feel more natural. 

You gave him more fluttered kisses on his cheek, then floated your lips up his temple before tilting your head back to cradle him beneath your chin. You raked your arms over his shoulders, your fingertips leaving trails of flamed temptation beneath each pad and digit. Each motion was done to the tune of “more”, “so good”, and “please”. 

You were heavily tempted to let him keep you trapped against the floor and caged beneath his weight, being used for his needy grinding; but a moment of clarity hit you. You were in the galley, and your crew members could swing the door wide and see you both like this; writhing and grinding pelvises together in a cruel dance of lewd gyrations. 

While you had your own qualms with this, you were sure Zoro would rather die than have him looking in his current state getting back to the ship’s chef. Casting all inhibitions aside at one particularly harsh grind against your clit from his painfully hard cock, you verbalized your concerns for him.

"Zoro, you're behaving like an animal- a beast: wild and rampant with lust,” your whisper carried itself up to his awaiting ears. You didn’t know what came over you, but you retreated away from holding him and pushed him up to view his expression.  

“You’re frightening me," you whispered into his face, claiming his cheeks beneath your palms. Both of you were whimpering, panting; eyes wide and lips parted. You leant up to his face, your lips almost meeting for the first time since he caged you beneath him. Holding back the meeting of your lips, you spurred him on with a single three-worded command.

"Do it again."

Zoro growled as he broke away his hand clutching your thigh, fumbling at his hips to unsheathe one of his three blades attached to his belt. As soon as he grasped the hilt of the blade, he tore his torso away from its place against your chest and threw the object to imbed itself within the doorframe: barring the entrance to the kitchen under its sharpened steel. 

Looking up at his body, his entire being was overwhelmed with sweat, pooling from his green hair to trickle down his temples to his neck and jaw. The silvery trail of desperation and lust dripped down his chest beneath his shirt and drenching him further beneath the pull of the powerful pollen. 

He was not himself, fighting every urge to hold control over his body. He wanted this - he wanted you. Just not like this. He wanted to do things right by you; courting you properly, enjoying his time learning everything there was to know about you. He adored spending his time silently by your side - often shielding you from harm's way and protecting you within the thralls of battle, not that you truly ever needed it. 

But the way his cock was straining behind the shield of his pants had his mind cloudy, eyes stinging while attempting to hold the final remnants of control over himself. 

“Y-You don’t know what you’ve asked for, Princess,” Zoro growled, his eyes slowly tilting down from contact against the door to slowly fall to meet your widened gaze beneath him. Your breath hitched as you were met with something completely feral overcoming him. His expression depicted his title flawlessly. You were now completely helpless, pinned beneath the towering intense muscle known as Roronoa Zoro: the former demon bounty hunter, pirate, and king of hell. 

His eyes held the vibrant lustful intensity of raging flames burning flesh, his predatory grin snapping his face with his grimace. His brow was furrowed in a deep frown, the final band of his control straining against the stretch; thin, pale and ready to snap. 

As Zoro gazed into your eyes, holding all that he was from tearing off your garments and sheathing his cock deep within your walls and chasing his release of tension, he continued to clasp onto his final band of control to ensure you were truly okay with your body being used in such a way. 

Sensing his apprehension, you swiftfully and gracefully bucked your hips up to meet his, rolling him off of your body and pinning him beneath you. Your hands grasped his wrists and placed them above his head. His teeth grit against themselves, grinding them down painfully to continue holding himself back from ravishing you. He was a swordsman. He was disciplined under the way of the blade. 

“Zoro,” you began, sighing down with your eyes upturned in concern, “I know you are not well, and this may be the only solution to your problem.” You reassured him, claiming both of his wrists between your left hand, you placed your right hand over his heart and pressed gently on his chest. 

“Let me help you like this, okay?” You offered him a half-smile, “We can work out what it means once you’re through the worst of it. I just want my swordsman back,” you placed your lips against his forehead, feeling the scorch of his flesh burn your lips as he whimpered into your touch. “My knight, my protector,” you whispered against him, pulling back from his face and uttering affectionately, “Just let go. I can take it.” 

If you’d held any fondness for your pants and shirt, or your undergarments, there was no ribbon left salvageable as Zoro all but clawed them from your body. His own shirt and pants were not fairing in any better condition lying beside them. The throbbing of his veiny cock curving painfully hard upwards towards his stomach had you wincing in empathy at how hard he was holding back. 

The slit was slickened, pearled beads of precum glistening against the shine of his reddened mushroom tip. You could almost see the harsh thundered beat of his heart depicted in the rush of blood swelling his shaft, the veins protruding and pulsating in the air. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, nor halt the fluttered hitch in your breath at the girth of it.

“I-I wanted this to be different,” he breathily confessed, his body moving against his will to cage you beneath him once more. His cock twitched at the opening of your walls, a shuddered groan igniting tingles over his back as his tip prodded you, “I wanted to warm you up, stretch you wide with my hands some so you could take me easier. Y-You deserve better.”

A small shocked scream fell from your parted lips as his body lunged forwards, his hips snapping to fully sheath himself within your walls in one fell strike. You were thankful you allowed yourself to give into the lewd grinds and circled thrusts from earlier to allow some slickness to coat your walls with your arousal. He filled you completely, your body contracting and adjusting to him with each passing flutter.

He bit his lip painfully hard, his eyes scrunched shut as he felt each quiver of your walls soothing over his burning flesh. This was the remedy his body was searching for. He needed you. All of you. Every fibre of you. The taste of you, the smell of your flesh, your sweet cries falling from your parted lips as you adjusted around him. He wanted so badly for this to be as good for you as it was for him, holding his concentration to allow you a moment to catch your breath. 

“I can still take you like this, Zoro,” you taunted him with a gentle hum of encouragement. He snapped his eyes to yours, his pupils completely dilated and the corners of his eyes still stinging with concentration to not rail you completely into the harsh floor. You noticed his panicked expression, knowing exactly what his mind was plagued with. 

The words left unspoken holding heavy in the air, his eyes begging you to understand his meaning instead of attempting to articulate his words. The throb of his cock within your warmth propelled your heartfelt encouragement onto him.

“D-Don’t you worry about me, okay?” you reaffirmed him, your eyes depicting nothing other than adoration and affection for the first mate, “Use me,” you drew your palm up to his cheek, holding your gaze intimately with his, “Just let go.” 

At that final command, he drew his hands over your thighs and hooked them over his hips once more; starting a heavy laden rhythm with the smack of his hips. He withdrew himself almost to his slit before pistoning his cock within your walls fast and harsh. You clapped your hand over your lips to stifle your cries of pleasure as his velvety cock continued its bullying of your cervix. 

Every fiber of your being was alight and adjusting to quench the fire of Zoro’s insatiable lust, adoring the chase of his release being pushed brutally into your quivering walls. His cries for you, reciting your name like a prayer as he quested for his salvation buried within your body. 

He was an animal, a wild beast possessed his body and propelled him onwards to seek out his pleasure within you. His eyes never left yours; the man you knew before the beast lurking beneath his glazed gaze. Zoro was expressing gratitude and almost sorrow behind his lustful alterego. 

“I-I’m so-....nmff-... I’m so sorry,” he whimpered, his pace accelerating harshly. The grip of his hands on your thighs bruised their way up to find purchase on your hips, You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, shaking your head and hooking your arms over his shoulders to draw his head into your neck.

“It’s-... hhah-... okay, Zoro. It’s o-okay, truly,” you reassured him, your voice hitching on each syllable as the snap of his hips accelerated in their bruising thrusts, “I’m okay, y-you’re okay.” Your reassurances held his voice sighing out his relief while he continued to chase his high within you. 

His words became jumbled, the mixture of his precum and your arousal squelching sinfully with each harsh slab and thrust of his cock sheathing itself within your walls. If anyone were to walk past the kitchen, they would know exactly what was going on against the floor. Breathy chants of your name fell from Zoro’s lips as the coil within you began to tighten and spark the wick of your approaching orgasm. 

Unknown to you at present, as soon as Zoro initially sheathed himself within you; he was holding himself back more to ensure this was an experience as enjoyable for you as it was for him. He was biting his lip so painfully to ensure he didn’t cum as soon as his pelvis met with your own. He wanted to watch you cum, he didn’t want to be a selfish lover and use your body to chase his own high. No matter how torturous it was to hold himself back, he was accustomed to pain and this was no different. 

But you noticed. The way his brow was intensely furrowed as his forehead hid itself against the skin of your shoulder. The quiver of his own shoulders and his whimpered cries against you gave you cause to draw such a heinous conclusion. Zoro was in pain, and he was still not seeking the treatment your body was giving him. He was still putting you first.

You sighed as you felt his cock continue to quiver within you with each harsh snap, the pleasure he was bringing to you was overwhelming with the bruising pace he still held. Hardening your resolve, you reached your hands down and dug your nails into his ass cheeks and propelled him to grind himself against you further and deeper. You refused to have this pain elongate further for him, and felt the urge to remind him as such.

“Zoro, cum,” you ordered him, his breath hitching at your command, “I know what you’re doing, idiot. Cum in me. I want you to shoot your cum deep in me. I want to feel you ride out your orgasm with each pulse and throb of your cock. I want your cum so bad, Zoro. Cum in me-.”

“-Fuck! F-Fuck,” He barked, biting down on your shoulder harshly as his cock began to release his built up load immediately into your plush walls. Ribbons of his white translucent paint splashed against your walls, the muffled screams of Zoro’s voice crying praises while latched against your skin. He continued the harsh stuttered pace as he rode out his release. 

He was so built up with his relentless pleasure that the pressure of his cum brushed against the underside of your clit, his pubic hair grinding on the topside at the same time and prompting you to ride the waves of your own orgasm alongside his. Lights danced behind your eyes as the spark drew into a vibrant flame. 

Your fingernails continued to dig in the muscle of his ass as you both cried in bliss, your mouth agape while his teeth continued to clamp over your shoulder. His tongue lapped behind his teeth as his groans and whimpers began to die down as his hips came to a staggered halt. His cock remained fully sheathed within you, the final twitches and trembles relinquishing his body of the final spill of his load emptied within you. 

Panting of dual breaths within the four walls of the kitchen, the fuzziness of Zoro’s mind became once again his own, his eyes losing their glaze and his cock twitched its last within you. You whimpered as you came down from your high, the pain of Zoro’s teeth remaining latched on your neck had the realization dawn on both of you at once. 

“I-I…” he stuttered once he released your shoulder from his teeth, “I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He stuttered, pulling out of you with his cum spilling from your opening and pooling on the floor beneath you. His eyes were wide, his lips swollen and bruised. Your own eyes widened at his panic, immediately rising to your elbows and looking up at him.

“You’re sorry we-,” you began, only to halt as he spoke over you.

“-No,” he barked his confession over you, stooping his body over yours once more, “I’m sorry it happened like that.” He wanted so desperately to relay all of his affection onto you, all of his adoration, all of his love - but was now lost for words as your eyes met his. 

You darted your eyes between focussing on each of his hazelnut orbs, shifting your focus as you witnessed his afterglow. His body was lighter, his mind no longer plagued by lust. He was once again-.

“-Roronoa Zoro,” you uttered, collecting his hand beneath your palm and allowing a warm smile to spread over your lips, “I don’t regret helping you like this.” You drag your hand over his cheek, pinching his chin between your thumb and index finger and hold his focus with the intensity of your eyes. “I’m glad you’re back to yourself again. If this is where we leave our tryst-.”

“-Absolutely not,” Zoro growled. The rumbled tone of his voice had your breath hitching and mind halting its springing to conclusions, “I want you more than you could ever know.” He leant forward, his eyes shutting as he met your forehead against his own; your cheek still claiming his cheek beneath your palm. His temperature was more bearable, the warmth you were more accustomed to bringing you comfort. 

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch and allowing him to shepherd your body to the ground once more. He combed his fingers down the crown of your head, his fingertips gently raking their pads over your jaw as he finally claimed your lips beneath his in a slow and intimate kiss.

He parted his lips, dragging his tongue to meet against your own with a small groan of bliss. You felt him smile against your lips as you drew your arms around his neck once more. Toying with the small hairs at the back of his neck, you angled your jaw upwards to claim more of him against yourself. 

The rattle of a door handle broke you away from this moment of private intimacy, the wobble of the door shuddering beneath a strong grip immediately caused you panic. You were naked. Naked on the floor in the kitchen. Your clothes lay beside you in ribbons, nothing aside from a dish towel could be used to shield you from prying eyes. 

“Oi, Zoro! What’re you guys doing in there?” The voice of your captain called to you, “You better not be getting all the meat from the fridge! I took that from the celebration, it was your own fault you didn’t get there in time to try any-.”

“-We’re not eating your meat, Luffy!” Zoro roared, breaking his lips away from yours to answer him, “Bring us my yukata and some of my pants, would you?”

“Your Yukata and pants? What happened?” Luffy asked, puzzled momentarily before slyly asking into the door, “And what do I get outta it?” Zoro growled a woeful sigh, lips curling up to a snarl. Your warm smile and giggle broke him away from his anger, his eyes softening as they met yours once more. 

“Just bring them, will you? Then we’ll let you get your meat, Captain,” Zoro chuckled while leaning down to press his lips against yours once more. Although the air was lighter, your body began to succumb to the feeling of warmth falling from Zoro in waves. He hoisted you from the floor to sit atop his lap as his back sat flush against the kitchen counter. Seeking out the small bite he’d left on your shoulder, he began pressing fluttered kisses in apologies against your flesh. 

“I’m sorry,” he confessed once more between kisses, “I want to do this properly - be with you properly. You deserve better.” You sighed at his words, exposing your neck more to him in a gesture for him to continue pressing kisses into more of your available skin.

“I can take it,” you gasped, feeling his teeth rake slowly against your flesh as he moulded the skin of your back beneath his splayed fingertips. He gasped into your skin, still dizzy from coming down from the risen high between you both but mind truly clear of all prior affliction.  

“I know you can,” Zoro grinned into your skin, pulling away to gaze into your eyes. All affection was mirrored between you; eyes half lidded and smiles dopey and tired, “But you still deserve better. Let me treat you better.”

[dazeddo11]

WIP draft

Ellie calls you drunk to pick her up, months after she left you.

Ellie stumbles out of the bar, looking around trying to remember how she walked there. Her eyes catch a bright red phone in a glass booth, your voice worming its way into her head. No I shouldn't... She thought, turning away from the phone. It's so late, she's not even up. What is she is? What if you do and she answers? She won't....she might. Ellie turned on her heels, she knows this is dumb. She would just walk home, but she needs you right now. She misses your face and how you used to laugh at her cheesy jokes, or when she taught you with her guitar.

She leans against the glass wall of the booth, her fingers shaking as she punches in your number. One ring....two... three...fo-

"Hello?" Your groggy voice was heard. Oh god, you actually answered. Ellie stood there for a few seconds, she didn't think this far. She struggles to find words, all of them caught in her throat. She wants to apologize, to tell you it was the worst mistake of her life and she can't sleep without you by her side anymore. Fuck she can't let you hang up, she can't wait too long, what if she says the wrong thing?

"M' sorry, just wanted to hear your voice..." Ellie slurred into the phone.

"Ellie? What time is it? Are you drunk?"

"It's...late, I only had a few drinks."

"God Ellie, where are you?"

"you don't have to come get me baby, im fine."

"No Ellie, you're drunk. Where are you?"

"J's the corner by Dave's Den."

"Stay there, don't move."

You sighed as you hung up, shuffling out of bed. You grab your keys and yawn, what a great way to wake up! You grab a bottle of water from the fridge before you leave, no way are you letting Ellie get sick in your car. You stopped by a local pizza place on the way, might as well since you're already out. You almost forgot how to get to that crummy old bar, that's where you and Ellie met. She had watched you dance all night, couldn't take her eyes off you. She was too nervous to buy you a drink or talk to you, but you spotted her watching you. You thought she was cute and you bought her a drink. You guys hooked up that night, and the rest was is history.

Ellie smiled as she saw your familiar car, stumbling over to wait at the curb. When you stop the car and get out to help her, she raises an arm. "I'm fine! I can do it." She smiled as she almost stumbled backwards. You rolled your eyes and walked over, gently grabbing her upper arm. You guided her to the side as you opened the door, helping her in. You close the door and get back on your side, tossing the water into her lap. She hums and looks up at you. Your face glowed with every lamppost, highlighting all the places she used to flutter kisses, and stroke lovingly. She misses you so so much.

Should I keep writing this or give up?

[anadiasmount]

just had this thought after seeing his back 😵‍💫 but thinking about laying down getting ready to go to sleep and jude laying on top of you because the only way he can go to sleep is if you are rubbing his back 🤭🤭

“it’s too hot,” you said, slightly pushing him away from you as you wanted to sleep. jude looked at you with a brow raised, a hint of sadness in his chest as you pushed him away. you had spent the whole day together, shopping, working out, and getting dinner. taking a shower together and even sneaking down to get a sweet treat before bed.

“baby i wanna lay on you…” jude whined, coming to your side and resting his forehead on your shoulder. “not right now jude… we just cuddled for almost two hours!” you say groaning, feeling your skin sticky from the light sweat when you laid together. “i know that but you know me? i can’t sleep when you don’t do that thing.”

“what thing?”

“that thing with your hands on me?”

“it’s been a long day jude. i really want to sleep,” you say tiredly, yawning and laying in your side away from him. “but? y/n?” jude noticed your eyes shut immediately, small breaths leaving your lips as you rested. he didn’t know how it was possible for you to fall asleep that quickly, but he didn’t blame you.

jude twisted and turned for almost 2 hours straight. not being able to find a comfortable spot or even yet get any ounce of sleep. he had to be up and early in the morning but it seemed like he’d only get 4 hours of sleep max. if he fell asleep now.

he tried everything. drinking water, melatonin, scroll on his phone, yet nothing worked. he couldn’t sleep if it wasn’t next to you. you were next to him but fully fully fully next to you. he hated being this clingy but it’s the only way he could fall asleep, on your chest, hands on his back.

jude squinted his eyes, turning on your nightstand lamp, you were fully asleep, not a single noise or attraction being able to wake you. he loved to watch you sleep, knowing you were resting after your hectic job that seemed difficult and unfair. your lips slightly pursed, eyes completely closed, lashes tracing just above your cheekbones, hair tamed and everywhere. he loved it all.

jude drank a huge sip of water, the familiar coldness running down his throat at the drink. he propped himself on his side, taking his finger and slowly pushing away any hair away from your face. “y/n?” jude croaked, internally cringing because he was waking you up due to his neediness. but you kept sleeping.

“y/n?” he said a little louder, making you gasp and sit up. “oh my? oh my gosh? what’s wrong? why are you still up?” you said quickly all jammed, heart beating fast in your chest as your boyfriend looked overworked and extremely tired. you looked at your watch, almost 4am, sighing deeply before rubbing your eyes. “are you okay?” you ask.

jude shook his head, “i can’t sleep, i’ve tried everything but i can’t sleep.” you softly chuckled, pushing your blanket to the side and inviting him in. you could see the cheer and joy in his eyes, not wasting anytime and pushing you down to the bed with him. “you can be so needy you know?” you tease earning a ‘yeah yeah’ from him.

“do that thing.”

“what thing?” you ask curiously, looking down at jude who gave you a ‘you can’t be serious look’. “i don’t know what thing you’re talking about!” you defend, seeing him roll his eyes before speaking up again all groggy. “your hands on my back? where you run your fingers palms? it makes me fall asleep…” jude says shyly, tucking his head in the crook of your neck.

you obliged, jude almost moaning in delight at your soft silky warm hands tan down his shoulders, spine, and jude below his hips. “like that?” you ask, feeling your sleep slowly start to take over once again. “mhmm… just like that…” jude replied, kissing your neck and playing with the small “j” initial on your necklace.

he could feel every slide, sweep, rub, brush, tingle, all run down his back. almost shivering in pleasure. it’s crazy to think how much of an affect it has on him, to the point where he needs to feel your hands rake his back in order to fall asleep. jude fell asleep almost immediately, like a baby.

you continued to do small movements before your hands got tired and stopped. sleep getting the best of you and finally resting with your boyfriend on top of you. his hands around your waist, cheek smushed in your chest, his curls slightly tickling you, his small snores. you would never admit it, but you only slept best in this position.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Manager When You Call in Sick

“Wait what!?”

Your eyes are so heavy you can barely see

Your body too is like concrete

And the Hot and Cold chills changing from an inescapable savanna to the North side of the Arctic

It’s honestly a miracle you were able to call at all

For all his nagging and disturbing actions for the time being he is your official boss

It would be unprofessional not to say something

You also must be in such a haze because you only called him and not the assistant manager

After you make the call, you return to the pillow and you slip back into a feverish sleep

Of course unbeknownst to you the Manager is losing it

The other employees have probably gotten the gist after he launched a chair into the breakroom wall and began angrily mumbling to himself

“B-b-boss, why don’t you go visit them? Like, offer to take care of them!”

“Y-y-yeah j-j-j-ust give us the keys for lock up and you can go pick up some soup for them or something. Y-you still have their key right?”

Like an instant change of night and day, the Manager is all smiles as he easily wrenches the chair from the new hole in the wall

“Thanks, guys! I promise not to secretly apply those pay cuts I wanted to. I’ll also be sure to give you a pizza party. And for good measure, I won’t slash your tires. ”

“What?!” “Wait–”

“Toodaloo!” 

With a skip in his step, Clyde is on his way to your house after visiting the local pharmacy and employing his manager's discount 

Ie: blackmail 

“Honey, I’m home! Have you eaten today? Drink any water?”

If it weren’t for the attempts at getting this man off your property 

But of course, he’ll stroll in with his copied key of yours

And for once you’ll probably appreciate it

Massages or icepack or heating pad whatever you want he pampers you beyond compare

Taking advantage of your feverish disposition to lick kiss the sweat on your body

“You’re so sweet, Honey! Even when your sick!”

After a swab on the inside of your cheek don’t ask why he wanted that+

And a little cuddle 

Then he starts doing your chores

Clothes, food prep, organizing, cleaning 

He gets to work

Taking the dirty undergarments or sucking on your toothbrush as compensation

It’s a nervous habit

Where he keeps himself busy because staring at your labored breathing scares him 

He’ll pop into check on you but for his health he can’t be by your side 24/7

At the end of the day, if your temperature hasn’t gone down, he might call his special doctor

Now don’t try asking for their  credentials–they’ll just ignore you

But they’ll make sure you’ll pull through from this 

“How are you feeling, my love? Better?”

“W-what are you doing in my house?”

“Now do you want takeout or homemade chili? Also, I don’t approve of your shift changes so you’ll have to come in your usual times.”

When you are well enough to physically push him out he’ll start concluding his visit

“GET OUT! And don’t come back!”

“So mean! You’re lucky I don’t dock your pay right now!”

For all his whining he is quite pleased

The haul was magnificent this time around

Part of its charm is the fact that you were in the house when he stole it

“Ah what a good day….it’s almost so good maybe I won’t slash my employees' tires anyway…,,,who am I kidding? That’s the best part of the weekend!”

More of Yandere Manager

[lovelyjj]

hi! I'm not sure if this is against any of ur boundaries but if it is please let me know! I know it's not technically smut but it's in somewhat of the same category, could you write aftercare from jj?

aftercare

jj maybank x fem!reader

wc: 984

warnings: slight smut

(not my gif)

JJ was pounding into you. His cock was stretching you out. He pulled all the way out just to slam back in.

You let out a whine, because he was fucking into you and it felt so good.

“I know baby girl, I know,” JJ soothed.

JJ could tell you were getting close by the way you were squeezing him.

“Give me one more,” JJ asked.

You let out a moan while your orgasm washed over you. Your whole body felt tingly and you coated JJ’s cock in your release. JJ fucked you through your orgasm. JJ came with a jerk of his hips spilling his seed inside of you.

“Did so good for me angel,” JJ expressed.

You gave JJ a weak smile and his heart melted at the sight.

“Thank you J,” you whispered.

“No need to thank me, come on let’s get you cleaned up,”

JJ let go of your hand and went to go to the bathroom to start the bath when you let out a whine.

“Nooo J please don’t leave me” you pleaded.

“Baby I want to bring you some water and then start the bath, It should only be a second.” JJ reasoned.

You gave him your best puppy dog face and JJ wasn’t strong enough to turn you down. JJ climbed back in bed and like a magnet you cuddled up to him.

JJ rubbed your back in soothing circles as you traced patterns on his chest.

“Baby I love you but I really need to clean you up.” JJ begged.

“Ok,” you whispered.

JJ got up and went to get a wash cloth while you patiently waited on the bed. JJ came back pretty quickly since the bathroom was conjoined with the bedroom.

“Here we go angel, stay still for me.” JJ cooed.

You opened your legs and JJ wiped up the juices. You whined because you were sensitive.

“I know baby I know, almost done.”

JJ finished cleaning you up and came to lay down with you.

“Your perfect, perfect for me. I think maybe you were made for me. That maybe in every lifetime and every universe we would somehow end up together.” JJ preached.

“J, you’re so good to me. You’re so sweet, I know I’d choose you in every lifetime,” you responded.

You and JJ held each other close wrapped up in your own little world of love and comfort.

JJ was playing with your hair when he asked, “you want to take a bath my love?”

“Yeah ok.”

JJ got up and made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the hot water and grabbed a few candles. He lit them and set them around the tub. He put some nice smelling bubble bath in the water making it bubble up.

“Come on princess the bath is ready.”

You went to the bathroom and JJ greeted you by kissing your temple and telling you to get in and that he will be right back.

JJ returned with a cold water bottle and stepped in behind you.

“You need to drink please,” JJ instructed.

He held the bottle to your lips and you took it and you gulped down some water. “Thank you J.”

You sank into the hot water letting your sore muscles relax. JJ pressed kisses on the back of your shoulder. Then he began washing your body. He delicately washed and bathed you. He even washed your hair. He peppered kisses to any where he could reach.

“You take such good care of me J,” you spoke.

“You deserve nothing but the best my love,” JJ responded.

“I love you so much,” you announced.

“I love you too,” JJ replied.

Only when your fingers were wrinkled did you get out of the bath. JJ had a warm fluffy towel waiting for you to be wrapped up in it.

When you entered back into the bedroom JJ asked you if you would like a massage. You told him that you would love it.

“Just relax,” JJ soothed.

He got some lotion and smoothed his hands over your back. He worked meticulously rubbing out your sore muscles.

“Feels so good J,” you mused.

JJ hummed and continued his work on your back. You enjoyed the intimacy of the massage. You liked having his hands on you, touching you in a loving way.

JJ liked it too he liked taking care of you and making you feel good. He loved aftercare almost as much as he loved the sex if not more.

When JJ was finished with the massage he kissed your shoulder and then your head. The two of you got back into bed and snuggled up together.

JJ was scratching your scalp as you laid on his chest. The warmth of his chest heating your skin. You were relaxed and enjoying just being with JJ, your person.

“JJ?”

“Hmm” JJ hummed.

“What are you thinking about?“ you asked.

“I’m thinking about how pretty you are.”

“I don’t believe you,” you giggled.

“What? it’s true! I swear.”

“Yeah right.”

“Fine then. Don’t believe me,” JJ crossed his arms over his chest.

You laughed out loud and shoved him playfully.

You truly loved JJ and you enjoyed every second you spent with him. It’s like you were always smiling and laughing around him. You held your memories you made together close to you heart. The love you shared could be seen by everyone.

When the two of you had sex, JJ always made sure to take care of you afterwards. He never skipped aftercare. He always made sure you were alright and would dot on you and love on you and give you reassurance.

Aftercare with JJ was always lovely. He always took his time being gentle and kind. Always putting your needs before his. He was amazing and you felt like you had the best boyfriend in the world.

[lushlovers]

frat joe with drunken confessions definitely !!!!

Drunk Promises, J Burrow

summary; joe being absolutely gone and rambling about things he shouldn't.

warnings; swearing, kisses, mentions of drinking, drunken rambling

word count; 700 something

note; i'm so bored and tired but i can't sleep so i decided to fulfill this request while i have some downtime:)) also hey?? Its been like a million years, more frat joe coming soon;)!

The porch is spinning and Joe swears he sees three different door knobs after he's struggled with only you to help him drag his heavy limbs around. He attempts to reach for one of them but misses, swishing his hand around before he finds it to unlock and shove the door open. You mumble every swear that comes to mind when it slams into the rubber stopper on the wall, surely waking up everyone in the house and a few houses down, "Welcome to my humble abode, gorgeous," he smirks, stumbling into the wall, trying to play off the fact that he nearly fell over by leaning on it with arms crossed over his broad chest.

When your eyes meet him, his brows raise playfully. At this point it's taking everything out of you not to bust out laughing at his advancements, he's not one for compliments unless he's high as hell or drunk out of his mind, "I've been here more times than I can count, but thank you," you shake your head as you unstrapped your heels, leaving them to rest on the shoe rack.

After he'd struggled as much coming up the front steps, you're thanking God he chose the bedroom on the ground floor rather than up or downstairs. "To my bed then," he asks hopeful as all hell and you nod, taking his hands and leading him straight to his bed. He falls back onto it slowly scooting himself toward the headboard.

Quickly you bolt to the kitchen in search of hangover relief and some water before he gets any stupid ideas whilst left alone. Upon your return, you're greeted by a shirtless Joe who's struggling to get his jeans from around his ankles. Shaking your head for the thousandth time, you tug them off, discarding them in the hamper in the closet. "Eager for me?" You scoff at the ever-deepening of his voice and allow him to unzip your dress.

When his hands swiftly push the fabric from your shoulder, "Not tonight, Joey. Why don't you get some sleep" you step back and he continues attempting to pull you back into him. Joe watches intently as you find one of his LSU shirts folded atop his dresser, give it a smell test, and climb into bed beside him.

"Pathetic excuse for panties," he mumbles through hiccups, using his index finger to snap the elastic against the meat of your hip. You roll your eyes and as you inch away from him his arms wrap even tighter around you, keeping you plastered into him. He grinds his hard-on into the back of your thigh holding onto your hips moving you only where he sees fit.

"Sleep, Joseph," you murmur against his pillows but of course, he's relentless with his wet, sloppy neck kisses. This time you sit completely in bed, snatch the pillows from behind your head and throw them onto the floor. You fumble in the dark for the throw blankets at the foot of his bed, once you've found them you make your spot on the floor, but before you even put the pillows into position he's mumbling and hiccupping through protests.

"mmmm, baby noo, get up here with me. I sleep a bajillion times better with your body next to mine," when you meet his eyes they're glazed over, almost like he wants to cry but is fighting it with every fiber of his being. You're quite shocked, never has this man ever cried in your presence and for that to happen right here, right now, wouldn't shock you with the way he's been acting since his third drink. "And you're drunk, I don't want you to do or say something you'll regret, honey."

He's melting internally at your use of that sweet little nickname you love to use when he's been drinking, "I'll be quiet about all that, mama, I promise" You sigh, and give in as soon as a pout begins to show itself on his pretty, perfect face, picking up your stuff off the floor just as fast as you had put them down. Before you're even back into his bed, he's giggling and scooting over to leave much more space than you need to keep his promise.

[luvyeni]

❛SUGARDADDY HEADCANNONS❜ ( p. jongsong )

p. jay park x fem!reader w. 0.5k

warnings? 18+ headcannons mdni

— 𖦹 ( headcannons of jay as your sugar daddy ) !

sugardaddy! jay who’s a regular at the club you work for as a new dancer , he sees you and immediately wants you for himself.

his eyes were trained on yours as you made your way over to him. “you stare a lot.” you were incredibly sexy , but your voice was soft almost innocent like. “how much?” he said taking a sip of his drink. “for a private dance?” he shook his head. “no to make you quit this job and come with me?”

sugardaddy! jay who asks you to be his sugar baby that same night during his “private dance.”

“j-jay , fuck!” jays head fell back against the couch as you rode his cock , you boobs freed from your bra , bouncing in his face as you bounced on his cock. “f-fuck your too perfect to be working here.” he groaned , pinching your nipples. “leave this job and i’ll pay for anything you want”

sugardaddy! jay who spoils you to the max , buying you anything you set your eyes on , you could look at something and it will show up at the condo the next day.

“close your eyes princess , daddy has a surprise for you.” you obeyed , closing your eyes , he sets the diamond crusted collar in your lap. “open baby.” you looked down , confused. “a collar?” you questioned. “for wh- oh my god!” you gasped. “i saw you looking at a dog , so i got everything , she’ll be here tomorrow.” you squealed throwing your arms around him. “thank you so much daddy.” he smiled. “you welcome baby.”

sugardaddy! jay who moves you into his condo after only a month.

“are you sure? it’s only been a month , i don’t want to intrude.” you straddled his lap , his button down on but fully unbutton exposing your naked body. “fuck baby i wanted to move you in the day i met you , you’re here everyday anyway.” he squeezed your boobs , you moaned. “o-okay.” you grind down on his cock. “sh-shit , good princess , to celebrate i’ll fuck you on every surface of this condo.”

sugardaddy! jay who sets up a pole in your bedroom , and buys you a bunch of lingerie — you’re his personal stripper.

“c’mon baby.” he put another hundred dollar bill in between your breast. “dance for me.” he took a sip of his drink , his cock twitching against his suit pants as you moved your body to the music up and down the pole — just like you had done the day he met you. “fuck princess i’m so hard right now.” he palmed his cock. “come here and ride daddy’s cock.”

sugardaddy! jay who rents out clothing stores so you can shop privately , and so he can fuck you in the dressing rooms.

“fu-fuck jay!” you screamed as jay pounded into your cunt , your hands pressed against the mirror. the workers outside instructed to leave you to be , to pretend they don’t even hear him fucking you dumb in the dressing room. “poor dress didn’t even make it out the store.” he groaned. “it’s okay baby after i cum in your pussy and all over this pretty dress, daddy’ll buy you as many as you want in every color.”

sugardaddy! jay who fly’s you anywhere you want on his plane just because you want to.

“it’s so pretty.” you looked out the window of the plane that over looked the beautiful island. “i want to swim in the water for the whole trip.” jay watched your eyes wide like saucers. “we can do whatever you want to do baby , this trip is to help you distressed.”

sugardaddy! jay who fucks you on the balcony of the hotel that you’re staying in.

“daddy , fuck!” you moaned out as he held you against the railing by the back of your neck as he pounded your insides. “that’s it princess , let everyone know how good daddy fucks you , let everyone know who you belong to , who’s pussy this belongs to.”

sugardaddy! jay who gets jealous when other dudes flirt with you

“he was practically fucking you with his eyes , like i wasn’t standing directly behind you.” jay rolled his eyes. “jay calm down it’s not that deep.” he turned to you. “you see that necklace , what does it say.” he pointed to your necklace. “jay.” “exactly you’re mine , okay.” he said. “no one is allowed to even look at you without my permission.”

©LUVYENI

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

In The Gloomy Depths [Chapter 5: Ruby]

Series summary: Five years ago, jewel mining tycoon Daemon Targaryen made a promise in order to win your hand in marriage. Now he has broken it and forced you into a voyage across the Atlantic, betraying you in increasingly horrifying ways and using your son as leverage to ensure your cooperation. You have no friends and no allies, except a destitute viola player you can’t seem to get away from…

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), parenthood, dolphins, death and peril, violence (including domestic violence), drinking, smoking, freezing temperatures, murder, if you don’t like Titanic you won’t like this fic!!! 😉

Word count: 5.5k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @nightvyre @mrs-starkgaryen @gemini-mama @ecstaticactus @chattylurker, more in comments 🥰

💎 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 💎

Scarlet dusk spills over the pine planks of the deck like rising water. Sweet little Madeleine Astor invites you to attend dinner with her party—perhaps there is gossip that you and Daemon have had some sort of a row—but you have other plans. As the rest of the first-class passengers descend the Grand Staircase to the dining room on D-Deck, you make your way eastward towards the stern. You pass shipbuilder Thomas Andrews, who is ambling along with a group of chuckling, pipe-puffing gentlemen including J. Bruce Ismay and Benjamin Guggenheim. Mr. Andrews is mentioning the iceberg warnings that the captain has received from nearby vessels today; the other men are agreeing that Captain Smith is right to not be concerned. On a night as calm and cloudless as this one, surely an iceberg would be spotted by the lookouts with more than enough time to steer the ship to safety.

Aegon is waiting by the steel railing of the stern, stolen black coat, face glowing in fading daylight the color of sunstone, a crystal mined in Oregon. His scuffed brown leather portfolio and a folded easel are tucked under one arm; in his fist is clutched the handle of a small wooden box, which must contain his painting supplies.

“So,” he says, smiling when he sees you’ve accepted his offer, this final kindness before you are torn away from each other when Titanic docks in New York Harbor. “Where should we set up our studio? It can’t be in my cabin. One of my roommates is currently fornicating with a Russian girl. She seems nice. I hope she isn’t burdened with his bastard child.”

“You don’t think we should join them?”

He laughs. “Maybe I’m not ready to share you.”

“You’re not living up to your reputation, prodigal son. I had heard you were an irredeemable miscreant.” Then you turn to leave, and Aegon follows you.

You stop first at the Café Parisien on B-Deck, which is mostly deserted; it’s very cold outside, approaching freezing temperatures as the sun sinks below the bloodied horizon, and the heaters don’t work especially well in the restaurant. You purchase several different sandwiches and a chocolate croissant. No cash exchanges hands, which is good because you don’t ever have any; the stewards there recognize you and will add the charge to your illustrious husband’s bill, to be paid before passengers disembark on either April 16th or 17th, depending on how quickly Titanic arrives at her destination.

Daemon and Rhaenyra will be in the First-Class Dining Saloon for the next several hours, and thereafter will almost certainly steal away into her rooms to commit their incestuous adultery. Rush is eternally prowling nearby in case Daemon finds himself in need of anything: a drink, a gun, a troublesome wife shoved over a railing. Per her nightly tradition, Dagmar has taken Draco to the Verandah Café, which in addition to being a more casual eatery has become a sort of playroom for first-class children. And so in your staterooms, only Fern is present, finishing up some dusting before she journeys down to C-Deck to enjoy dinner in the Maids and Valets Saloon. From above the fireplace, the taxidermied tiger head watches you with eerily still gemstone eyes, a dispassionate witness to your treason.

“Hello, ma’am,” Fern says when you enter. “Can I make you a cup of tea before I go?” Then she sees Aegon walk in behind you with all his equipment, and she blinks, bewildered. “Good evening, sir. Did we meet on the Boat Deck this morning…?”

“We did,” Aegon replies a bit sheepishly. Fern looks at you, seeking an explanation.

“I need a favor,” you tell her.

“Of course, ma’am. Anything.” But Fern’s large dark eyes shift skittishly between you and Aegon.

You give her the paper bag heavy with treats from Café Parisien. “I’ve brought you dinner. I wasn’t sure what kind of sandwich you’d prefer, so there’s ham and Gruyère, tomato and chèvre, and pâté and cornichon. Eat whichever you like, or all three, it doesn’t matter. Oh, and there’s a chocolate croissant as well, nice and flakey and shining with butter. It’s absolutely massive.”

“That’s very kind, ma’am,” Fern says. She’s touched, but she’s still puzzled.

“Fern, I’m asking you to stay here in the sitting room. It doesn’t matter what you do, but don’t fall asleep, and for God’s sake don’t leave to go outside, not even for a moment.”

“Alright,” she agrees cautiously.

“I don’t think they’ll be back for a few hours, but if somebody does walk through that door—Daemon, Dagmar, anyone—all I need you to do is offer to make them tea, as you would on any other night. And offer loudly.” This will alert you to the intruder and give you more than enough time to get Aegon out onto the private deck, from which he can access the hallways of B-Deck and the Grand Staircase.

Fern understands. She nods, studying Aegon thoughtfully. “Yes ma’am.”

“And I didn’t have any visitors.” Your voice is grave; it is not only your reputation at risk. It’s your life.

Fern feigns shock. “Of course not. I haven’t seen a soul.”

You touch a palm to her shoulder, fleeting and gentle. “Thank you, Fern.”

“It’s no trouble at all, ma’am,” she says, and then goes to the small circular table and begins to unwrap one of the sandwiches from Café Parisien.

As soon as you and Aegon are inside your bedroom, you push Daemon’s writing desk in front of the door, precious extra seconds bought in the unlikely event that your husband returns and Fern can’t slow him down. Aegon immediately begins setting up: placing his easel, clipping a piece of fresh linen-like parchment from his portfolio to it, and removing a palette, brushes, and tiny tin tubes of oil paint from his wooden box. He turns off all of the lamps except one, then glances at the unlit white candles on the dresser and the nightstand. Before he can say anything, you take his aluminum lighter from your handbag and light the wicks.

“Can I do anything else to help?” you ask.

“Yeah.” Aegon nods to your spacious walk-in closet, where the door is hanging ajar. It’s nearly as large as his entire third-class cabin. He shrugs off his black wool coat; beneath it he is wearing only a white button-up shirt and dark green corduroy trousers. “Get dressed. Put on something you feel like you look especially good in.”

You gaze blankly at the closet, then turn back to him. “I don’t think I look good in anything.”

“Well now I’m going to make you watch.” He smirks at you, mischievous, teasing, then drops to his knees to squirt beads of paint onto his stained palette: golden like the lamplight, a rich dark brown like the walnut wood of the bedposts.

“How would you possibly accomplish that?”

“You have a mirror.” He points to it with a paintbrush, the oval-shaped pool of silver standing upright by the bed.

You gape at it, mortified. “No, I couldn’t possibly stare at myself the whole time.”

“Sure you could.” Aegon goes to the mirror and adjusts it until it is filled with your reflection. “Not too bad, right?”

“I suppose,” you murmur, but you have already fled to the closet. As Aegon swirls colors together on his palette, searching for the perfect shades, you sift through your collection of jewel-toned fabrics: lace, cotton, velvet, wool. You think again of the dusk light that turned the decks and waves to rubies, and your eyes catch on a red silk robe: purchased only a month ago, never worn yet, no memories of Daemon or anybody else, a new age like sunset or dawn. You take off your green gown and remove the emeralds from your ears, then don the crimson-colored robe and return to the bedroom to meet Aegon, silk flowing behind you like a riptide, the rustling of your legs beneath the fabric.

Aegon is scrabbling around by the foot of the bed, smoothing out any bumps in the Turkish rug, straightening the white ruffled bed skirt that hangs down to the floor. He peers up at you and freezes, his fretful fingers going still.

You ask tentavively: “Is this okay?”

He chuckles. “Okay is one word for it. Come over here.”

You go to Aegon and he takes your hands, both of them, and draws you down onto the floor where he is. You sit with your legs bent and tucked to the right, as if you’re a mermaid, your tail the color of blood instead of cool rippling depths. Aegon arranges the hem of your robe—he wants your bare feet showing, the silk rumpled in some spots and smooth in others—then retreats and stands back to study you, chewing the corner of his full bottom lip, his hands on his waist.

“Can I take your hair down?”

“Sure,” you say, but when he touches you—even a graze, even a whisper—you have to stop yourself from startling a bit, from reaching out to grab his wrist and keep him close.

“I can paint from memory,” Aegon tells you as he works, perhaps filling the quiet to soothe your nerves. “But it always turns out better if I have the person in front of me.”

“I’ll try to stay still.”

“You can move around if you have to,” he assures you. “I’d rather have you comfortable. I know you’re not a statue.”

“Right.” You smile. “I’m a rock.”

Aegon laughs and places your left hand on the bedpost as if you are clinging to it. “The best rock. Now let’s see you glimmer.” He goes to the mirror and repositions it one final time, angling it downwards slightly so you are in the center of the glass oval. From behind you on the dresser, flickering dots of candlelight glow like stars. You instinctively avert your eyes from your reflection, but Aegon is insistent. Gingerly, he turns your head back towards the mirror before striding over to his easel.

You do not want to watch yourself, so you watch Aegon instead, his doppelganger reversed in the glass. He’s mixing paint on his palette, repeatedly glancing at your robe to make sure he’s made the correct shade of red. He’s absentmindedly tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear. And you cannot stop staring at his hands: the way he holds a paintbrush, the bumps of his knuckles. He is not a man who has ever pillaged or bruised but only created pinpoints of light that gleam through the darkness, music and art and laughter, the gems of human existence. He is far from home, just like you are. His bones are the bars of a prison; you have married into the same one, created new life with it, melded your bloodlines together like forged metal.

Now Aegon is back, his reflection kneeling behind yours, and he begins to reach for your waist before he stops himself. “Is it alright if I…?”

“Of course. However you want me.”

The Aegon that lives in the silver sheen of the mirror settles his hands lightly just below your ribcage. He turns you just barely towards the mirror, only an inch away from where you were before, but he is precise, he is careful. This is the last image he’ll ever capture of you.

The warmth of him against you, his weight, his wonder as he gazes at your reflection with eyes like deep water; your breath catches, and at first he fears he has crossed a line and removes his hands. But your fingers are—slowly, like a suggestion that someone could so easily pretend not to have noticed—pulling up the hem of your silk robe, to just above your ankles, to your calves, to your bent knees. Aegon’s right hand covers yours, and then—as your eyes lock in the mirror—skates up the inside of your thighs as you part them, displacing the vivid red of your robe, revealing yourself in the glass, and so you can see it as he touches you, not like he owns or commands or uses you but like he is here to chisel you free from the perpetual darkness of the mine you’ve been trapped in for millennia.

You gasp in desperate, disbelieving relief, shaking all over, and you move to kiss him; but Aegon catches your face in his other hand and turns you back to the mirror. “No,” he whispers. “Watch.” And then he presses his lips to the apple of your cheek and lingers there for a moment, tasting you, breathing you in like you’re water filling the lungs of a drowning man.

“Aegon…”

“I want you to see how beautiful you are. I want you to see what I’ve been dying to do to you.”

His right hand is still between your legs, his fingers circling, a whirlpool that drags you down like an anchor until you hit the seafloor, an ocean not of pressure and cold but bright, yearning warmth, golden lamplight and flickering candles. You reach back to touch Aegon’s face—the stubble of his short beard, the sand-colored strands of his hair—but still he keeps your gaze fixed on your reflection. Now you are unashamed in a way you haven’t been since before your wedding night five years ago, just about the same time Aegon was leaving home. The proof is indelible, inking itself into your memory like a painter’s signature: you are desired, you are loved.

“Thank you,” you moan, so low it’s almost inaudible. You’re close. You’re very, very close. “Oh my God, Aegon, thank you…”

“Shh.” He kisses the side of your face, his eyes on the mirror, transfixed. “Show me.”

It’s a beam of sunlight refracted and scattered by a ruby; it’s a scalding torrent of blood that crashes through a web of arteries all the way to the heart. And when—still shuddering, still fighting for air—you pull away from Aegon’s grasp, he lets you go without any resistance.

You roll onto the floor and drag him on top of you by his shirt, struggling with trembling fingers to untangle the tie of your robe until Aegon realizes what you’re trying to do and helps you. He opens the blood-red silk and tastes the salt blooming on your belly, your breasts, your throat where your pulse is thudding drunk and maroon in your carotid. It’s better than cider or champagne or beer or nicotine; he is not a poison but a cure. He is unbuttoning his shirt and his trousers, hurried famished need. He is inside of you, and he is kissing you deeply, your palms on his flushed face, your hips moving with his. You steal a glimpse of the silver-moonlight mirror, and there you both are: lost and far from home, shipwrecked on the same island, castaways and wave crests and mirages. In the end, you know you have not disappointed him. His lungs are breathless and his eyes wet, his muscles just as spent and useless as yours. Neither of you are lost anymore. You have found each other here in the gloomy depths.

Almost immediately, Aegon forces himself off of you and crawls towards his easel, at last staggering to his feet. He grabs his palette and a brush and begins working with frenetic strokes, his damp hair falling in his face, his brow knit with concentration. You don’t have to ask what he’s doing. He’s trying to paint you before the memory begins to fade. He works in thin layers, just enough to cover the white of the parchment. His visions are soft and fragile like dreams, things that can be blown away and forgotten. From where you’re still lying on the floor, you gaze up at Aegon as he paints.

Is it possible that I’m in love with him? Is it possible that after this voyage I’ll never see him again?

You have no sense of how much time has passed when he finally looks over at you and says: “I think it’s done.”

You stand and wander across the bedroom, your red robe still open and hanging loosely from you like flayed skin. On the paper you find two faces instead of one, you in a golden haze of ecstasy no one else can see the cause of, Aegon whispering as your fingertips reach back for him.

He has written in black in the bottom right corner of the painting: Petra and Picasso.

~~~~~~~~~~

Aegon doesn’t want to move it yet. The oil paint needs hours to dry, and he’s worried that if he takes it outside while it’s still wet, the wind screaming down from the Arctic might be cold enough to make the paint freeze and chip away, and the momentary lust-red magic he’s captured will be gone. So with the new painting still clipped to it, you hide Aegon’s folded easel, the leather portfolio, and the wooden box of supplies under your bed, concealed by the white ruffled bed skirt. You both take turns cleaning up in the bathroom—someone always listening for the noise of an unwelcome interloper—and Aegon shimmies back into his clothes while you change into a blue dress, velvet for warmth, pale like ice.

“Where can we go?” you ask Aegon as you put on a coat, heavy white wool. I don’t want to say goodbye to you yet.

He must feel the same way. He pushes Daemon’s writing desk back to its original place, unblocking the door. Then Aegon offers his hand and you take it.

You walk together into the sitting room. Fern looks up from where she’s perched on the sofa and sewing closed a rip in the sleeve of one of Dagmar’s charcoal-colored dresses, her eye wide.

“Thank you, Fern,” you say, calm and drowsy. “That will be all for tonight.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“How can I repay you?” You don’t have your own money, your own land; even the jewels in your collection belong to Daemon. You’d give them all up if they could buy your freedom. You’d let them sink into the dark cold North Atlantic Ocean, emeralds and rubies and sapphires. Randomly, you think of Daemon’s gemstone-studded dagger, the hilt glinting with gold.

Fern replies: “Never send me away to live with people who don’t bring me chocolate croissants.”

You dash to the sofa and hug her; Fern is stunned but accepts your embrace, warily patting your back as if the bones beneath might be porcelain or glass. Then you clasp Aegon’s hand again and vanish with him into the hallway.

Most of the men are still at dinner or have moved to the First-Class Smoking Room, the women are still gossiping and sipping their champagne, and so you and Aegon slip through the heated corridors like sharks in warm currents. He leads you towards the stern, to the section of the ship reserved for his chosen people, then down to F-Deck and the Third-Class Dining Saloon. They are just beginning to move the tables out of the way for dancing. You find a quiet corner of the room and take off your coats, then Aegon disappears for a moment and returns with a tray: two plates full of corned beef, cabbage, carrots, and potatoes, two bowls of plum pudding, two cups of tea, a dark bitter pint of Guinness for you. You can feel your face light up when you see Irish food.

“You’re lucky you weren’t down here for breakfast,” Aegon tells you. “We had fried tripe and onions.”

“Oh, awful,” you say, laughing. You take a bite of corned beef and close your eyes, thinking of Saint Patrick’s Day with your family each year, always a cold wet day in March, green hills and grey mist. When you open your eyes, Aegon is smiling.

“A little taste of Ireland.” Now he is wistful. Across the room, the musicians Aegon sometimes plays with have climbed on top of a table and are performing My Wild Irish Rose as couples whirl around the floor. “I’ll miss it. I love the music and the people. Perhaps one in particular.”

“What are you going to do when you get home?”

“I’m going to tell Aemond he has to teach me how to be a duke,” Aegon says casually as he eats. “I can’t really give it up, unfortunately. The title belongs to the Crown, not my family. It can be taken away any time the king decides he wants to. And he’s a strict one, George V. He’s humorless, he’s harsh. If I refuse my inheritance, I can’t just pass it along to Aemond, not unless the king agrees. But the way I am…my failings, my lack of restraint…it makes my bloodline look like bad stock, doesn’t it? Especially with all that eugenics bullshit floating around. I don’t want my mother and siblings to lose everything because of me. My mother has spent her entire life miserable, I figure she should have something to show for it.”

The Hightower branch of the family are phantoms to you. You know them only from newspaper articles and erratic gossip and sneering remarks muttered by your husband. You take a swig of your Guinness, and for the first time in as long as you can remember you don’t feel like you want to have another. You don’t want to take the jagged edges off this moment, hidden below deck with Aegon for what is almost certainly the last time. You don’t want to forget anything about him. “What’s Aemond like?”

“Superior to me in every way,” Aegon says. “Disciplined. Clever. Very tall.”

“I myself favor short, delinquent artists. Those tall clever dragons are nothing but trouble.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “I’m not a real artist.”

“Sure you are. You’re Picasso.”

He’s watching you with murky blue eyes, dazed and marveling. “What are you going to do when you’re back in Ireland?”

It’s a fantasy, a folktale. I’ll never see Ireland again. “I’m going to help take care of my father. He’s…he’s not well, and he hasn’t been for a long time. His memory is failing. I want to make his last years as painless as possible. I want to spent time with my mother again, I want to go on walks and sit in the garden and read books and paint our ugly little pictures. We used to play this game where we’d each paint an animal and then have the other guess what it is. It once took her twelve tries before she realized my grey blob was supposed to be a basking shark. I saw one washed up on the shore when I was little.”

Aegon is smiling. “I could teach you how to paint.”

“Yes,” you say softly, knowing it will never happen.

“You could teach me what it’s like to have nice parents.”

“They’d adore that. They always wanted more children.” You are distracted, gazing into your Guinness, flecks of foam like constellations in a night sky. “I want to make sure Draco grows up to be a good man. I want him to be kind and gentle.” You look to Aegon, the thought suddenly leaping into your mind like a cat onto a windowsill. “Like you.”

Aegon’s eyebrows shoot up. “Like me? No, Petra. You don’t want that. I was a demon.”

“And yet you turned out fine in the end.”

“I turned out weak,” he says, abruptly severe. He drags his fingers through his disheveled hair, staring forlornly at the white wall behind you. “I wanted to help you but I can’t. I followed you from Galway to Cork, to the first-class decks, to your staterooms, and now…now when we dock in New York you’re going to get dragged off to wherever Daemon wants you to be and…and there’s just nothing I can do about it.”

“You’ve helped me,” you insist. “But now you’re too far away.”

Aegon comes over to your side of the table and drapes an arm across the back of your chair, and you lean into him, and together you watch the couples dancing to cheerful Irish music. Below your feet the engines are humming, and outside the waves are crashing against the hull of the ship, and up on B-Deck Daemon is probably crawling like a spider into Rhaenyra’s bed, and Laenor is consorting with his new Parisien companions, and Dagmar is reading some Scandinavian story to Draco before he falls asleep, and husbands are dulling their worries with brandy and cigars, and wives are distracting themselves with gossip about other women’s lives.

You don’t want to leave, not even as the passengers here in the Third-Class Dining Saloon begin to clear out and those left are so drunk they can hardly keep themselves upright, stumbling into tables and chairs and howling uproariously. Aegon doesn’t want to leave either. Now his arms have circled around your waist, and he’s nuzzling at your throat and the curve of your jaw, and you’re trying not to notice the weight of your black opal engagement ring on your left hand so you can forget the life you’ll have to go back to tomorrow.

I want him again, you think hazily. Where can we go? Where on earth can we go?

There is a sudden jolt, a deafening grinding sound, a tremor that shakes through the steel latticework of the ship. The few remaining dancers shout and cling to their partners. Pints of beer are knocked from tables and spill across the floor. Plates clatter and lightweight wooden chairs slide away.

“What the fuck was that?” a drunk man slurs, but then he and his friends begin to laugh about it, pounding on each other’s backs. You turn to Aegon. He’s not laughing. His eyes are large and darting around.

“Aegon, the ship is fine, right?”

“Yeah,” he says quickly, but he’s standing and passing you your white wool coat. “Come on. Let’s go up to a higher deck to see what’s happened.”

You picture the lifeboats that you have strolled past so many times, not nearly enough space for all the passengers, only the lucky half, the richest half. “The ship can’t sink, can it? That’s what everyone’s been telling me since we boarded, and I didn’t believe them because of course any ship can sink, but…Aegon…”

“It’s probably just a problem with one of the boilers or a propeller or something,” he says as he pulls on his black coat, stolen just like the way he’s stolen you tonight. But he doesn’t walk to the hallway and up the nearest staircase; he damn near sprints, dragging you along with him.

Outside the night sky is black and full of stars, bitterly cold, no wind. You emerge near the bow of the ship, and third-class passengers are kicking around chunks of ice as if they are playing Gaelic football. Aegon spins around, searching for the source of the ice.

“Ehi, amico! Did you see it?” an Italian man calls to Aegon. Aegon trots over to join him. You look down at the pine planks under your shoes. Is the ship listing towards the starboard side, or is that your imagination?

“No, what happened?” Aegon is asking the Italian. You can hear voices from the other decks, less alarmed than curious, people rattled awake, stewards helping to retrieve items that have rolled away.

“Iceberg, a huge one! We just went right past it! Pieces broke off and fell everywhere. We don’t have nothing like this in Napoli!”

“An iceberg?” Aegon echoes, stunned. He goes to the railing and leans over to squint out into the blackness. “Did we hit it?”

“We bumped it a little, I think,” the Italian says, unconcerned. Then he returns to the game, kicking a block of ice when it glides over to him.

“Look,” you say to Aegon when he returns to you, pointing skyward. Up in the crow’s nest, you can just barely hear the lookouts shouting back and forth. You cannot decipher their words, but they sound agitated. They sound afraid.

“Hit an iceberg,” Aegon murmurs, trying to make sense of it. “But that’s not serious, right? No one’s running for the lifeboats, no one’s talking about leaks or anything—”

“Aegon, does the ship seem like it’s listing to you?”

He peers down at the deck, shifts his weight from foot to foot. He doesn’t have to answer. When he looks up at you again, his blue eyes are panic-stricken.

“I have to find the shipbuilder Mr. Andrews,” you say. “He’ll have investigated, he’ll know how bad the damage is.”

“I’m going with you.”

I don’t know where my jailers are: Daemon, Dagmar, Rush, Rhaenyra. “You shouldn’t be in my section of the ship.”

“If something really is wrong, they’ll be the first people to know,” Aegon says. That’s cruel, but it’s true. First-class lives are worth more than his.

You fly up the steps to A-Deck, where on the Promenade Deck men in black suits are chuckling about the ruckus as they puff on pipes and cigars, and women in beaded evening gowns are pressing their soft pampered hands to their chests as they recall the shock of the earthquake-like shudder that rattled Titanic. Stewards are flitting around fetching tea and pillows. No one is talking about lifeboats or sinking, which you take to be a good sign; but you can’t find Thomas Andrews.

When you and Aegon have at last circled back to the bow of the ship, you spot a group of men walking swiftly into the glass box of the bridge. They are speaking in low voices, their hands moving in frenetic gestures. Thomas Andrews is there, you are relieved to see. J. Bruce Ismay and Captain Smith are among those with him.

“Mr. Andrews!” you cry, and he stops and turns. He is carrying an armful of rolled-up engineering drawings.

“Lady Targaryen,” he says numbly, then seems to lurch out of a trance and hurries to you, standing closer than would be considered proper. In his state, he has not noticed Aegon, lurking a few paces behind you and listening intently. “Your family, Daemon and the others…you must wake them.”

“I saw the ice on the deck by the bow, did the ship—?”

“We hit it,” Mr. Andrews tells you, hushed so others will not hear and become hysterical. “An iceberg. Scraped along the side, caused the iron plates to buckle below the waterline. I’ve seen the forward cargo holds and they’re…” He blinks, astonished, as if this is a nightmare he might still wake up from.

This can’t be happening. This ship was supposed to be unsinkable. That’s what everybody told me, that I was insane to fear the journey. “But…but what about the watertight bulkheads?” He had spoken so confidently of them at dinner just a few nights ago.

“I didn’t built them high enough, and seawater is spilling over the tops. The first five compartments are already flooded, too many for Titanic to stay afloat.”

“The ship will sink?” you whisper, terrified. Aegon moves closer, a palm on the small of your back.

“Yes,” Mr. Andrews says.

“When?”

“Perhaps an hour or two.”

“An hour?!”

“Carpathia has answered our distress call, but she’s four hours away.”

You stare at him. “And the ocean…it’s freezing.” Anyone left adrift in it will die.

“Get to a lifeboat, Lady Targaryen,” Mr. Andrews says. “Don’t wait. I’m doing everything I can.” He rejoins the other men and goes with them into the bridge. Behind the glass walls, J. Bruce Ismay begins to yell something at Captain Smith.

“Hey, hey, listen,” Aegon is telling you, but you can’t seem to focus on him. His voice sounds like it is coming from very far away, another coast, another lifetime.

“There aren’t enough lifeboats,” you say, flat with shock.

“I know. I remember what you told Fern when I saw you up on the Boat Deck.”

You race for the steps that lead down to B-Deck where your staterooms are. “I have to find Draco—”

“Wait, wait, listen to me.” Aegon’s hand reaches out and grasps yours, not imprisoning you but imploring you, begging you to hear him. “Half the people on this ship are going to die.”

“Yes,” you agree, the horror of it quivering in your voice. In the frigid night air your words turn to fog like the mist that clings to the Cliffs of Moher, like ghosts captured in the corners of photographs.

“And most of the bodies will never be recovered, and there will be no way of knowing for sure what happened to them, and the crime scene will be at the bottom of the ocean.”

Crime scene? Crime scene??? “Aegon, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t you get it? Petra, this is your way out. I’ll help you. We’ll do this together.”

Draco. I have to get Draco into a lifeboat. “Aegon, I don’t understand, do what?”

His eyes are gleaming; the grin that splits across his face reveals teeth like pearls. “We’re going to kill your husband.”

[xeeljii]

STEP ON ME

You're free to have everything you can see All that you want from me

WARNING! Explicit RPF! 

Summary: You meet a beautiful stranger on a night out and find yourself in his apartment where the night seems to be filled with endless possibilities

Word count: 5.2k

CW: 18+, f! reader, meet-cute /j, alcohol, dry humping, masturbation, no specific body descriptions.

This is a prequel to SHE'S MY COLLAR but can be read as stand alone, you don't need context but you can check that afterwards.

The night had started at some dimly lit bar for cheap shots and was now ending at some exclusive event one of your friends had been invited to. As soon as you walk in your whole group disperses but you are happy enough to dance on your own. The music fills you with energy, you down shots like it is water and dance wildly without a care of who is watching. Unbeknownst to you out of the corner of his eye you catch Joost’s attention, you are pretty in a way that makes it hard not to stare and he doesn’t want to be a creep but he notices you seem to be on your own and he is not a fool either so decides to try his luck tonight. He lets the magnetic pull of your presence bring him closer to you, he finds himself a couple steps from you, ready to ask if he can buy you a drink, rehearsed line on his mouth as he closes in the distance. But all of a sudden a song you seem to really love comes on and you throw your arms high up in the air as you take a step back, and without meaning to you bump into his chest spilling a little bit of your drink down his shirt. You turn around startled only to be met with the prettiest blue eyes you have ever seen.

“Sorry.” you both blurt out at the same time before breaking into laughter. 

The stranger before you is tall and pretty dimples adorn his face as he smiles down at you, he bends down to speak right in your ear so you will hear him better over the loud music. “My name’s Joost”. 

“Joost” You reply back, the name feels beautiful in your mouth and it sounds heavenly to his ears coming from you, you give him your name and he also tries rolling it out on his tongue, tasting it in his mouth. 

You stay standing on the dance floor without saying anything just holding each others' gazes, electricity filling the small space between the two of you without moving, neither of you wanting to break the spell. 

“Let me buy you another drink, since my shirt got in your way.” He speaks again pointing at the now half empty glass in your hand. 

You snort muttering again a little sorry before looking up at him again. “Sure, thanks.” You say leading the way to the bar counter. 

Between drinks and dancing you learn he is a musician, that he is here for a release party or an album recording or something of the sort, he is from the Netherlands and he has the cutest smile you have seen. He is fun to be with, he smells heavenly, he is a great dancer and he can’t take his eyes off you either. You dance for hours, down shots together and then start pushing them into each others mouths happily, you laugh until your cheeks hurt and the sound of his laughter is resounding in your ears. His hands keep lingering on the small of your back as you dance and yours keep running up to his nape, holding on his strong arms, and playing with the long strands of hair at the back of his head. You feel yourself lost to the concept of time as you stare into his pretty blue eyes. Deep into the night or the early morning, you have no idea what time it is, you hear his voice whisper dangerously close to your ear sending a nice wave of chills down your spine.

“Do you wanna come over to my place?” He says it without malice or bad intentions behind it,  or perhaps any intentions, he just can’t bear the thought of ending this so soon and never seeing you again.

You grab hold of his hand and look up. “Lead the way.”

He leads you through dark empty streets illuminated only by street lamps as you keep chattering away about anything and everything. He tells you about his travels, the places he has visited, the ones he enjoyed the most, you tell him about yourself, your friends and job he seems genuinely interested, asks little questions here and there so you will clarify the specifics, it makes your heart beat in excitement. You don’t know what you want or expect from this night but if it includes him it is guaranteed to be a delight either way. 

Half way through you start lagging behind, your feet are tired, your dress feels too tight, too short, and the amount of drinks you had is making you wobbly. “Are we still long from there?” You ask a little concerned. He looks back at you still holding your hand.

“Not much.” He replies, he sees your worried little face.

He takes a step towards you, lets go of your hand, shucks his jacket off quickly, and ties it around your waist without a word. You can’t quite understand what is going on then you see him turn around and go on one knee in front of you.

With his back towards you he speaks over his shoulder with a sweet grin. “Hop on, your ride is here.”

You break into laughter that makes you double over, it takes you a bit to compose yourself before you start climbing on his back. When he feels your arms secure around his shoulders he grabs at the back of your thighs with his strong hands and pulls you closer standing up. Your tight dress rides high, you are thankful for the jacket protecting your lower half from the cold wind night, you press yourself even closer to him greedily chasing after his body heat. You feel the warm expanses of the muscle on his back, feel the grip of his hand on your thighs, it is all too much, it make you want to dissolve into him. 

He starts walking, treats you as if you are weightless. He is saying something about this one trip he took to Japan you can’t quiet be sure, you feel his soft scent so deeply that you can barely register that words are coming out of his mouth, it is such a delicious comforting smell like aftershave and tobacco rolled into one but somehow sweeter, you can’t stop yourself in your intoxicated mind you pull closer to the neckline of his shirt and sniff lightly. He feels it as it tickles his skin, he giggles then asks bemused. 

“Did you just sniff me?”

You pull yourself away quickly pushing your hands against his shoulders to create some distance. “No I didn’t.” You say almost too loud, no confidence in your answer. You almost fall backwards from how hard you pushed but he holds tightly at your legs.

“Wow, easy there.” He giggles not even bothering to pretend he believed you. “Well do I smell good?” If you could see how widely he is smiling you would be mortified, completely caught red handed. 

“Agh! Please let me off the hook for this one, I’m drunk” You whine dropping your head in the crook of his neck and resting your forehead on his shoulder completely defeated. 

“Okay, okay.” he says laughing still.

After a few more minutes announces. “We are here.” 

He softly puts you down on the ground while he looks for his keys on his jean pockets, you untie his jacket from your waist and put it over your shoulders, fix your dress back in place, the cold of the night bitting at your exposed skin making you tremble slightly. When he turns around and sees you wrapped yourself in his far too big jacket, your hair flying all around you wildly with the wind and your cheeks kissed red by the cold of the night, he thinks he is in love. You are a heavenly sight, he must have gotten drunk and fallen somewhere, hit his head so hard he died and now there is an angel right in front of him. He wants to warm you up by kissing everywhere but he settles for reaching his palm out to you so you will follow him.

You make your way up the stairs to his apartment quickly as you hold hands. It is a nice studio, it is a little messy, way more cans of Monster than should be advisable but you live off coffee half the time so you are in no position to judge.

“Sorry for the mess.” He says sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck, you shake your head and smile up at him.

“You should see mine.” And he would like that, he really would. 

But right now he has you here and when he turns on a few lamps the warm light illuminates you more beautifully than before, the dimness of the club made your alluring features no justice, he feels his heart beat rapidly in his chest. You take his jacket off and put it on the hanger before walking up to him. Your face still has a nice rosy tint, the dress fits you beautifully but he can see goosebumps in your arms.

“Do you want me to get you something to change into?” He says as he is caressing softly at your exposed skin in a small attempt to warm you up, you nod.

He goes into the bedroom and you follow right behind,  he grabs one of his shirts and a pair of boxers and hands them to you, you hold the clothes close to your chest. The air is filled with tension and you are holding heavy eye contact, neither of you wanting to look away. After a long pause he finally speaks again.

“I’ll wait outside.” His voice sounds labored and deeper almost dripping with need.

You want to tell him to stay, that he can watch but you haven’t even kissed yet and it feels like a little too much, so you just nod silently before turning around. 

In the couch of the living room he takes a seat, he wants to take a peak but he is not a pervert so he starts smoking anxiously to calm himself. He turns on the thermostat and raises it a couple degrees to warm you up faster. Inside his bedroom you take off your clothes quickly and change into his, it feels nice, the fabric is soft and worn out, it smells like him it makes you feel like you are fully wrapped in his presence, it makes you tingle.

You walk out into the living room again, you see him splayed on the couch smoking and exhaling out of window he cracked open just a little bit. You go to sit next to him. 

“It is a nice place.” You say looking around.

“Thanks, I didn’t decorate anything. I’m just renting it for a bit.”

You break into a giggle, he loves that sound. “Well there goes my compliment, no matter. You should see me sober I’m much more charming, trust me.” You wink up at him his cheeks heat up instantly.

He looks at you stunned, you look even more beautiful in his baggy clothes, like you belong here, like this is normal, like you are his. The idea excites him terribly.

“Do you smoke?” He asks, you reach out a hand and take the cigarette from between his fingers.

“Only when I drink.” You put the cigarette between your lips and inhale lightly, you don’t really like smoking but right here, right now, you just want to have it inside your mouth as it was just between his lips.

The taste is stronger than you expect and it has you coughing up embarrassingly. He takes the cigarette away from you and goes to rub soothing circles at your back which would be sweet if he wasn’t also laughing so hard right in your face. Your eyes water and you try to hit lightly at his chest. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” The words come out garbled and hard in between little coughs as you try to compose yourself.

“Sorry, sorry.” He says still in between laughter, his palm is so big and warm, you can feel it through the thin material of the fabric, he continues rubbing calmly until you can breath normally again. With his other hand he wipes the stray tears away from your face. “So I'm guessing you don’t drink often.” He says big smile in his face.

“Oh please leave me alone.” You roll your eyes at him still a little embarrassed, you cover your red face with your hands, but he pulls them away before speaking. 

“Come here.” Joost grabs at your chin gently pulling you closer. He takes a long deep drag of the cigarette, lets it fill his lungs, he gently puts pressure on your jaw with his fingers so you will open your mouth and you do. He is half a breath away from your mouth, you can feels his heat, his lips fall open slightly and he pushes the smoke into your mouth softly, slowly, you can feel his lips ghost over yours. You inhale, so relaxed under his touch, it feels so good, you want to close your eyes and melt into his hand right now but you also want to stare at his beautiful face, the way his eyes seem impossibly blue and the alluring almost white eyelashes that adorn them, all made more enticing by the small cloud of smoke that covers both of you. 

Up close you see the beauty mark right under his lip, it decorates his face perfectly, you become hyper focused on it and before you can stop yourself you are crashing lips first right into it. You place a soft peck on it, he feels his heart stop then you move upwards to actually reach his lips. He feels perfect, he tastes perfect, it is better than you could have imagined.

You chase after his touch, he moves his hand to your waist to hold you closer, you feel him breathing in an out, chests almost touching, it is addicting. Your lips move in uncoordinated harmony but it feels so good. The kiss lasts too little before you have to pull away slightly to catch your breath, you see a string of spit connecting your lips it makes you blush even deeper if that is possible, somewhere in the middle of it all you had climbed onto his lap and he had let you. You are looking down at him, stunned with how gorgeous he looks, lips slightly red from the kissings and shiny from your own lipgloss.

He puts the cigarette out on an ashtray nearby, now both his hands are at your waist, thumbs caressing softly waiting on your next move. You go back for more, feeling bolder now seeing the hunger in his eyes that you imagine matches the one in yours. His lips are soft and a little chapped, they taste distantly like Bacardi and something sweet, the cigarette is there for sure but more than anything it taste like him. You chase after it, push your tongue in his mouth desperate for it, he is just as far gone as you sucks lightly at the wet muscle and you moan in response, his hands go to the small of your back and then to your ass to pull you closer, he feels the fat there so delicious under his fingers when he kneads his hands into the soft muscle. You mewl into his mouth, this feels so fast and like time has stopped. 

You keep kissing, moaning into each others mouths, sucking at each others tongues in reckless abandon. Your hips started humping against his at some point, you feel heat building up in your core and keep chasing after it with soft little movements, he smiles against your kiss, feels your teeth knock together. You are so drunk,  he wonders if you would be embarrassed to know what you are up to, he is now almost lying against the side of the couch, it digs on his back uncomfortably but he can’t be bothered by it when he has such a beautiful woman losing herself on top of him.

He grabs harder at your ass and pulls you up towards his stomach so you will stop torturing him a little with your grinding right on his uncomfortably hard cock. Your little whimpers sound so delicious, you are so lost on it, you keep kissing at his lips at his jaw down towards his neck, feeling his pulse right under your tongue. He keeps moving your head to reach your lips, seems to be wanting to eat you alive, you open your eyes and you see his pretty face full of desire, full of need, for you. There is a hunger inside you rapidly growing and soon it has you feeling famished. He can feel you trashing against the planes of  his stomach looking for more friction, he can’t really tell if you are unaware or so unashamed in your state that you can’t stop yourself. But you are so desperate for him and he feels like a boiling pot about to explode so he uses the last of his self restrain to tell you, almost beg you.

“Have some mercy on me schat, you are driving me crazy.”

His deep voice brings you back to reality, you feel your soul enter your body again for a second  and realize your hips are pathetically grinding against his soft belly, your face goes up in flames but you are so needy so hungry you don’t want to stop at all, the thought of it terrifies you. With your hands rested on his chest you uselessly try to pull him closer by his shirt and fail, but maybe your pretty mouth can get you what you so desire. 

“Joost please… I need you.” Your voice is so airy full of want, he can’t ever imagine saying no to you much less when you look so beautiful, in the couch of his living room, wearing his clothes. He nods dumbly before speaking. 

“Ok liefde.” He whispers back against your mouth.

He moves you swiftly placing your core right on the muscle of his thigh and planting his foot heavily against the hardwood floor so you will feel more of his tightened muscle. You knew deep within yourself, somewhere in your brain that he wanted you, that it is why he brought you back to his place, you expected to have a fun memory at most but didn’t realize he wanted you this much to let you do with him as you pleased, to get yourself off using his body.

You rub yourself against his thigh exploratory at first but then bolder, more vigorously, you are so wet, you wonder if you will stain his jeans, the delicious friction of the fabric on your cunt helping you get damper, more needy, he feels how hot you are through the fabric, wishes he could feel it directly on his skin, the throbbing of your cunt right on the muscle of his thigh as you make a mess of him. He is grabbing at your ass kneading softly and kissing at the column of your throat while you work yourself freely on his thigh, he is leaving big open mouthed kisses on trail until he reaches your mouth, you are so preoccupied chasing your high you can barley kiss back but it is okay, he does all the work for you softly exploring your mouth feeling your sweet wet tongue on his, the way your hips stutter when he sucks on it, how your hands hold tighter on his shoulders when he pushes his tongue deep into your mouth. 

He is painfully hard under you, but doesn’t mind as he keeps his eyes trained on your beautiful face breaking out in pleasure. You feel yourself coming undone far too quick you don’t want this to end, you still want to see how much he fills you up.

“Take me to bed.” You whimper. 

He lifts you with his hands below your ass in a swift motion and does as he is told before his brain can really catch up, he didn't bring you here for this, he doesn’t know why he brought you here really, he just wanted more time, more of you. But you are too drunk, he is also very drunk, but somehow feels more in control, it doesn't feel entirely right. He likes you, honestly, he wants to take you on a proper date if you would let him and he wants to meet you when you are sober, you are so funny and smart like this, he imagines he will be head over heels when he actually gets the version of you who can coordinate all her limbs.

He sits in bed with you on his lap, but then you raise from his warm embrace urgently, you grab at his jeans and unbutton them as you start pulling down, he goes to stop you. 

“I wanna feel you closer.” You explain like this is all supposed to make perfect sense, and it does to him, right now if you told him the moon was made of cheese he would probably belive you.

You sit back on his lap, his jeans rest at his ankles. You start moving again desperate against his body, he rests his hands on your hips helping you chase your orgasm. You keep grinding wildly back and forth on his lap, hands closed into fists at his shoulders holding onto his shirt painfully thigh, you feel the familiar sensation start to bubble inside you as your sensitive bundle of nerves keeps catching on the tip of his clothed erection every time you move. Your moaning is so beautiful, he is so thankful there are no other noises and he can concentrate only on what you sound like as you are coming undone. You feel your climax crush into you rapidly, feel your hole gush and your pussy uselessly clenching against the air.

“Joost!” You scream pulling him closer, he pushes his lips against yours and swallows your sweet sounds with his mouth, he loves it but his neighbors will kill him for it and he doesn’t want anyone interrupting right now.

Your body throws itself back in ecstasy but he catches you while you continue to softly ride your high all over him.

“It is okay baby, I got you, I got you.” He caresses your back, sweetly whispering against your hair, placing soft kisses on your exposed shoulder from where his shirt is too big on you. 

You come down from you high, heavy breathing on top on him, your hips still stuttering softly on his, your head is hanging low forehand pressed on his shoulder, he is holding you in place softly scratching at the tender skin of your nape, you swallow hardly trying to regain a little composure.

That felt so good and yet you want more, if you can only have this night you want everything. Your head feels so heavy, the room is slightly spinning around you, you try to focus your gaze on him, he thinks you look adorable. He is not much better off, his pupils are blown wide, he helps you out, grabs hold of your face delicately letting you rest you head against his palm. You raise your hips slightly, make move to pull the boxers he gave you down your legs, you feel you must have soaked right through them but you can’t care, he watches hypnotized with his breath caught on his throat, he see how wet you are, your pussy lips sticky with cum glistening with the light coming from the window. There is something so erotic about having you cum on his own boxers, he doesn’t think he will ever wash them again.  

You move quickly and far more coordinated than you should with how many drinks you downed and sit right on his erection, melting again on his heat, the warmth wetness of your cunt grinding directly on the tip of his still clothed cock, a loud deep moan escapes him without meaning to, but he doesn’t let you go further. In a quick motion he has you on your back against his mattress, there is a soft thud, he holds himself right above you caging your hands with his, gently but sternly. His face wears an expression between exasperation and love, you want to reach out and touch him so bad but under his strength you can barely move. He shakes his head lightly when he sees you jostling under him, stupidly trying to reach your hips up to his and wrap you legs around him to pull him closer.

“No, we are not doing that.” He says more to himself than to you, trying so hard to stay sane. “I am not gonna fuck you when you are drunk.” He looks for your eyes looking up at him pleading for more, he kisses a little trail from the high of your cheeks until he stumbles on your mouth and steals one last long kiss trying to commit the softness of your tongue to memory. 

Then he raises quickly, leaves you dumbfounded and so lonely in the middle of his bed, you feel weightless and like you can’t move at all at the same time you want to reach for him, pull him back down to your body, you feel so cold without him on top of you. You strain your neck to try to find him in the dark of the room. 

“Come back.” You want to sound sexy, too good to ignore but it comes garbled with the awkward position your head is in.

“Not going anywhere.” You can see him next to you at the side of the bed standing over you looking so fondly at your needy expression. He bends down quickly, kisses at your forehead so sweetly it makes your heart ache. “Give me 10, no 5.” He whispers before he moves far too quick for your eyes to catch, in a second he has crossed the room to the bathroom. He doesn’t bother closing the door you can see faintly the shadow of his body from the back, barely past the threshold of the doorframe. You can’t focus on much, your eyes are foggy, you can barely keep them open, everything is so dark you still feel dizzy but so pent up, one time wasn’t enough at all. 

At first there is a profound silence, you can only hear the blood pumping in your ears and then a small sound escapes the bathroom, it is so faint you fear you might have imagined it. The sound of skin on skin, you stop breathing trying to catch it again. You can see now a faint movement, his hand moving in repetitive motions, up and down. It sounds sleek like he is wet, you wonder if he is using spit or if it is his own precum, that thought makes your clit twitch, to imagine he is so desperate to fuck you but can’t do it, rather doesn’t want to do it when you are so vulnerable makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but all the more needy.

Your hand travels south, finds itself between your thighs, you are still soaked wet, you starts tracing exploratory fingers up and down your slit, you don’t want to make a sound, solely getting off on his sounds. You can hear the smallest whimpers, the softest groans, the drowned curses coming from where he is. You start toying with your clit, you reach your other hand under his shirt that you are wearing and pull it up exposing your chest to the warm air of the apartment, you twist and pull at your nipples hungrily imagining how he would touch you, you scratch lightly with your nails at the sensitive bud and wish he would bite down on you.

“Fuck.” You hear him mumble distantly but it feels like he is right by your side, caging you under his weight, saying it against your ear as he comes deeply inside you. Your reach your second peak using imagination alone, remembering the way he kissed you, his smell on the collar of the shirt he gave you as you inhale deeply, the way his hands held at your hips so tightly, you feel your cunt start twitching as you release whimpering softly his name over and over.

You feel his presence faintly back in the room before you open your eyes, still trying to calm down form your second high, you wonder how much he saw. Your neck is twisted in an awkward angle, your make up must be all smudged and you don’t even want to imagine what your hair looks like but to him you are the most beautiful sight he has ever laid eyes on. 

He brushes your hair away from your pretty face, moves his hand to caress at your cheek and rests his thumb lovingly near your lips, you can’t help yourself and you take it in your mouth sucking lightly, you hope it is the hand he used to get off. You try uselessly to feel his taste on your tongue before he pulls away, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You are really too much.” He says fondly like he is pumped full of love. He takes the last of his clothing as you struggle to keep your eyes open to drink in his beautiful body. 

“You are strange.” You say still feeling like this all was a dream, you smile at him with eyes closed. 

“You have a really pretty smile.” He says as he pulls your, actually his, shirt back down, you break into uncontrollable giggles, something like shame threatening to wash over you for what you just did but his loving eyes keep it at bay. “And a pretty laugh.” He pulls you up so you are resting on the pillows, he gets in after you and pulls the thick comforter over both of your tired bodies. He pulls you so your head is resting on his chest but first steals one last sweet kiss from your lips, you smile against him. “And very pretty lips.” It is the last thing you hear before you fall into heavy rewarding sleep finally melting into the heat of his body.

He hopes you don’t disappear before he wakes up, pulls you tightly against his chest, can’t wait to meet the you in the morning, see if she is embarrassed or if she is just delighted to be on his bed, he falls asleep quickly with the warmth of your body between his arms, hoping with everything he has that it is the second one. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

SEQUEL: SHE'S MY COLLAR ₊˚⊹♡ MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚ A/N: also if u r one of the day ones maybe you realized this one is also referenced in DOGTOOTH … IT IS ALL CONNECTED!! well not all all but u get it Hehehe anyways I hope you liked it let me know your thoughts! <3 

[my-castles-crumbling]

"Sure, but only if you watch."

Based on this headcanon and a prompt by @beautyoftheships. NSFW and explicit, minors DNI

The party was loud. The house was so full of university students that James didn't even recognize most of them, though he lived in the house they were all occupying.

Music blared through huge speakers, courtesy of Sirius, and countless solo cups and beer bottles littered every available surface. A group of people threw ping pong balls into cups on the table and partygoers slurred words and stumbled around the kitchen as James walked by, clutching his own bottle.

Quiet. He needed quiet, of only for a second. He loved parties as much as the next bloke, but he had a bit of a headache, and he just needed a second.

Fighting his way through the crowd and down the hall, he found the door to his room, opening the door and slipping in, taking a deep breath.

"Needed a time-out, Potter? Sick of all the girls throwing themselves at you?" a low voice asked, and James's eyes shot over to his bed, where a pale, grey-eyed, dark-haired boy sat.

"Fuck yourself, Reg," James rolled his eyes, grinning.

Regulus was, of course, the only person he wanted to see at the party anyway. Regulus, who he could watch for ages. Regulus, who knew exactly how to make James worked up in the best way. Regulus, whose pout made James's cock twitch and heart ache. Regulus, who betrayed no emotions whenever he looked at James. Regulus, who was perfect.

But stunning gray eyes stared deep into James's and perfectly pouty lips muttered the best words James had ever heard in his entire life.

"Only if you watch."

Really, he was sure he'd misheard. Or that Regulus was joking. Or maybe Regulus had had too much to drink, and wasn't in his right mind. But a second glance at the other man told him that Regulus was sober, his eyes clear and no drink in sight.

"I-what?" James asked, flabbergasted, trying to pretend like the idea didn't make his knees weak.

"I know that you think about me, James. Maybe...maybe I think about you, too. D'you want to watch? While I...think about you?" Regulus murmured, small spots of pink appearing on the apples of his cheeks as he slowly (so slowly) dragged one hand to the button of his jeans.

"You're joking," James muttered hoarsely, convinced he was dreaming.

"Find out," Regulus shrugged, and suddenly his jeans were open with a small click of a button and the zip of a zipper.

James stared unabashedly as Regulus trailed his hand further, palming himself slowly, moaning just a little. "Reg," James whispered eyes widening as Regulus tightened his hand. "What-"

"James."

But he wasn't just saying James's name. He was moaning it, whispering it like a prayer as his slender fingers slipped underneath the elastic of his boxers. Without even realizing what he was going to say, James whispered, "Let me- let me see."

Grey eyes met hazel as Regulus stood, pulling his jeans and boxers down, revealing the most amazing cock James had ever seen. It was hard and ruddy, with a perfect, pink, already-dripping tip that made James's mouth water. God, he wanted to touch.

But he also wanted to watch. And his feet were rooted to the spot, so he stayed where he was.

As if reading his mind, Regulus wrapped his fingers around himself, still making eye contact with James, and began to slowly move, pulling at himself, eyes widening and glazing over just a little.

"That's it, baby," James found himself whispering. "Just like that."

And Regulus keened softly. Let out a high-pitched noise and bit his lip, let his eyelids flutter and sank back onto the bed, spreading his legs unabashedly.

My bed. He's going to come on my bed, James thought, watching the other man work himself over, twist his wrist slowly and cant his hips.

James was rock hard, himself, mouth wide open and palming at his extremely tight pants as Regulus adjusted his position, lying back on the pillows, knees wide and hand moving faster now. All the while, every time his eyes opened, they met James's.

"Fuck," James murmured to himself as Regulus's hips lifted off the bed and he cried out. "Those noises, love," he said louder, addressing Regulus, now. "So beautiful. Show me....show me what you want me to do to you, yeah?"

As if those were the magic words, Regulus's hand moved even faster, and he started whispering under his breath, just loud enough for James to hear. "Yes, James. Fuck, there. Please... James!"

It was the most erotic thing that had ever happened to him. Watching Regulus on his bed touching himself while he thought of James, James's hand pressing firmly on his own cock, hearing his name whispered is such a needy, desperate way.

"Can you come for me, baby?" James asked hoarsely, slipping his hand into his pants to wrap around his aching cock. "Come for me, darling. Show me how lovely you lo-"

It was a good thing a party was happening outside James's room, because Regulus nearly screamed. He let out James's name as his release flew over his stomach, painting his muscles in a way that made James come with him, standing right there by the door, pants still on. He fought to keep his eyes open, to watch as Regulus rode out his orgasm, face twisted in a way that made him look ethereal.

Me, he thought as he came down from his own high. He was thinking of me.

And as they both panted, chests heaving, and Regulus finally looked at him, the shorter man smirked a bit. "Maybe next time you can come a bit closer?"

James could only nod eagerly.

This got so long that I decided to post it on ao3, so leave love on there if you want!

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Maybanks sister

Part 2, chapter 1- stuck on a boat with my crazy ex boyfriend

Previous chapter , series masterlist

Summary: Rafes gone insane without you, and when he sees you on the boat? He loses his shit. After hanging out with the pogues for a while now, you figure out they’re not as bad as people make them out to be.

It had been weeks since you’ve last talked to Rafe. He had tried multiple times to contact you, on multiple numbers and phones. But it was no use.

You were sleeping when JJ had spam called you before Ricky woke you up.

“What?” You grumbled out. He threw your phone at you.

“He keeps calling you. Tried to answer but then it went to voicemail.”

“Shit.” You mumbled as you picked up your phone, looking at the texts and calls.

“WE NEED YOU”

He had even dropped a pin on his location. Him and his friends had grown used to you now, tolerating you. He tried to defend you as much as he could against them all.

You furrowed your eyebrows when you opened up a voicemail.

“Don’t park close to it. Rafes here. You can sneak in from the back.” He was whispering.

You sighed, parking your car and carefully hopping the fence, coming up behind the 4.

“What are you guys doing now?”

“They captured Sarah. Don’t know where they’re taking her, but it can’t be good.”

“What? Why did they…”

“We’ll catch you up in a little but right now…”

“We have to get on that boat.” Kiara said.

“What? Are you guys crazy?” You said, a little too loud. Jj put a hand over your mouth. “Do you even have a plan?” You whisper yelled when he took his hand back.

“Course we do. First, we have to get past the goon squad…”

“Alright. C’mon.”

But Pope wasn’t moving. “Pope what are you doing?” John B asked.

“I have an idea. Just trust me.”

“No, hey, stop running! We gotta go dude.”

“Trust me man. Go. I’ll meet up with you guys. Go.”

Pope left, you threw your arms up in defeat.

“Oh he’s asking to get killed.” You mumbled when he started firing his fun, a loud and large explosion happening as he ran. They were all distracted as he ran back to you all.

“Look. That containers going on the ship. We can get in that way. Are you with me?” He told John B.

“You’re a genius. Let’s go.” All of you ran for it, running into the shipping container.

“We can’t get out once we get it. It’s a trap-“ you spoke, Jj nodding in agreement.

“You guys don’t have to come.”

“Nothing to lose?” Jj looked to Kiara and you.

You groaned while Kiara said nothing to lose and you were now the only person outside the metal container.

“I have a job to lose. But I’m not letting some fucking kids go on a death mission alone.” You complained as Jj helped you in with a smile on his face.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

“Sorry bout that, princess.” Rafe said with a smirk on his face as he grabbed you from behind, a hand covering your mouth so you couldn’t scream.

“Told you you’d never get rid of me, didn’t I?” He said in a teasing voice. His grip on your was hard.

“Let go of her!” Jj shouted at Rafe, who looked up at the noise now. He wasn’t leaving this boat without you. You screamed as you trashed against Rafe’s arm and hold, he held you tightly, a knife now held against your neck.

Jj and Kiara had managed to kick him off of you and run for it, knowing that he would win. Taking one last glance at him on the floor, you ran with them.

Then, while the three of you ran, you ran into a man.

“Of course, there’s more of you.” He pulled out a machete.

“Get down on your knees.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

“But me a drink first, dude.” You mumbled as he swung his machete at you, ducking.

“Go, go, go!” You shouted at them, the man tried to swing it at Kiara but Jj was quick to react, hitting him with a door and knocking him onto the floor.

“Where’s John B?” Jj asked.

“John B!”

The man got up, continuing to swing it at JJ, who hit his head when he fell to the floor. You shouted as you ran at him, trying to choke him before he could attack Kiara.

But he elbowed you, and knocked you into the water.

JJ shouted your name, so loud that everyone on the boat could probably hear. Including Rafe, who turned at the sound of your name, and who from afar, could see a body falling into the water.

Without hesitation he jumped in when he saw you face down, unconsciously floating. Kiara followed him, the both of them grabbing you and turning you around so you could breathe.

He cried out your name, carrying your body flush to his own. When you didn’t breathe, he panicked and tears fell down his face, Kiara watching and also calling your name, desperately.

“Stay with me, y/n. Please. Please.” He whispered.

“Where are JJ, kie, and y/n?” John B asked.

“Last time I saw them they were on the other side of the ship!” Cleo said, and they quickly drove over to the sound of Kiara’s and JJs voice.

“Shit.” They spoke when they came closer to your unconscious body, quickly stopping by and helping them put you into the boat.

Jj sobbed, a hand running over his face as he got in the boat next to you, looking down at you.

Rafe turned around, seeing you all leave.

“Give me that gun. Give me it.” He panted, when he had it he stared out at the boat as its engine gave out, spluttering.

“No, no, no.” JJ mumbled, looking at Rafe who held the gun to them. They turned to the engine and tried to get it on.

But then Rafe saw you. He whispered your name quietly, seeing your brother sobbing next to your unconscious body, his mind went to the worst possible thing.

You were dead, he thought. And it was all his fault.

He put the gun down, breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on you.

Finally, the engine started back up and they were back to running. Tears filled his eyes as he watched the boat leave, running a hand through his hair.

“Y/n, please! Please wake up.” JJ continued.

“You gotta wake up.” John B mumbled.

You spit out some water, coughing and opening your eyes, putting a hand to your head.

“What the fuck happened?” You mumbled to yourself when JJ pulled you in for a hug, you struggling to sit up.

He had a hand on your back, helping you sit up now. You stared at him and the rest of them.

“Hi.” He said with a small laugh, wiping away the tears he had on his face.

“That’s the first time I think I’ve seen you cry for me.” You told him, a small smile playing on your face.

He laughed and rolled his eyes, just happy you were back.

“Always looking for attention, huh?” He teased you.

“Whatever it takes, right?”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

“How is he?”

“He’s stable. He’s sleeping. We have half power but will make the next port in three hours. I’ll have a doctor waiting.”

“Thank you.” Rose said.

“Can I see him?” Rafe asked.

“Yeah, sure yeah.”

“Wait right here, I’ll be right back.” Rose told Wheezie.

“Let me… let me talk to him.” Rafe told Rose, opening the door and shutting it.

“Hey, dad.”

“Hey.”

“You’re gonna be okay, it’s all gonna be good, all right? We did it. All this it is over. It all worked out. I got the cross. We got the gold. We got everything.”

But he didn’t have everything. He lost you in the process.

“We’re done. I got everything.” Rafe said with a small smile.

Ward shook his head. Rafe’s smile faltered.

Rafe knew what he meant, looking down. “We’ll find her. I’ll bring her back for this family. I promise. For our family, dad. It’ll be just like you wanted. But listen, while you’re down, I’m gonna step up.”

Ward nodded at his words.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna be a better man.” He took Wards hands in his, Rafes voice getting shaky.

“Just like you.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You helped John B, Pope and JJ pull the boat onto shore.

“Y/n, you alright there?” John B asked as you held your head, the spot where it had been bleeding before.

“Yeah. Just a little dizzy.” You shrugged it off.

“Okay, anyone know where we’re at?” JJ asked, you sitting down next to him.

“Deserted beach. Unknown island.”

“Alright, I’ll take that as a no.”

“Hey, I would rather be on this deserted beach that stuck on a boat my crazy ass ex boyfriend.” You said with a scoff.

“This is the lowest we can go.” Pope said, they all turned to him now. “We literally have nothing else to lose. The cross, gone.”

“The gold, gone.”

“Seriously, if we had a nickel for every time we got beat up, I’d say we’re at a dollar fifty.”

“That’s more than I got on me.”

“That somehow doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But I mean… we… we’ve had some good stuff happen, right?”

“Name something.” Pope said.

“Um… the boiler room.”

They all looked at him confused.

“What? If the boiler didn’t explode, I wouldn’t have gotten away from Rafe. I couldn’t have gotten the zodiac and gotten us out of here.”

“Well, because of the boiler room he held a gun to my temple and a knife to my throat. So… I wouldn’t say it’s the best thing.”

“You know what? Guys, this is it. This is the pogue life. We are in the Carribean. It’s our own little slice of paradise.”

“Yeah, a slice of paradise without a shower or bathroom, sure.” You mumbled.

“With my best friends, with my family, and with… y/n, I guess.”

You rolled your eyes at him, throwing some sand at him.

“Kidding. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.” He looked at Sarah.

“Look, and while you guys were complaining about every little thing…”

“Jj?”

“Hmm?”

“I was looking at those burly lefts.”

A smile spread across JJs face.

“There’s some slabs out there.”

“Just a few. Kie, you see that? I know you wanna get out there.”

“No boards.” She said.

“Well, we can bodysurf till we make some boards.”

“Lame.”

“Agreed with Kiara.” You pointed at her.

“Pope? Come on, man.”

“They do look pretty tasty.”

“Oh yes they do.”

“There’s nobody around. We could squat here for a bit.” Pope stood up.

“Kind of belongs to us now, huh?”

“You got a point.”

“Six way split?”

“Poguelandia.” JJ cut in, mocking a posh accent. “I claim thee poguelandia.” He leaned against a tree. “I like the ring of it. I’m gonna make a flag, it’s gonna have a chicken on it. With a coconut bra, smoking a J… in crocs.”

“I could use a J.” You sighed.

“Can we vote on this?”

“Let’s get to work. Let’s start working on provisions. Set up shop.”

JJ came over to you, “what do you say, sis?”

“I say this is by far the most stupid idea you’ve ever had, J.”

He tilted his head. “Welcome back to the pogue life.” He helped you stand up.

———

Tag list:

@cassie0sstuff

@rafesgiirl

@fals3-g0d

@tiaamberxx

@callsignwidow

[favefandomimagines]

Love is a Battlefield (j.m)

Request: Idk I don’t have like a request request but anything with jj maybank honestly okay or maybe the way 13 going on 30 randomly popped in my head like maybe Jenna and matty vibes @idontevenknowbsblog

Summary: JJ Maybank had been your best friend since you were 4 years old and then life started to complicate things.

AN: this is a long one lol and maybe not as close to Jenna and Matty but definitely a best friends to lovers, I got carried away lol not edited

Your mom would joke that it was fate for JJ Maybank to end up in your life. It was fate that her and JJ’s mom would be in the same lamaze class. Because of fate and that friendship, it formed the relationship you cherished the most. JJ was a constant. If there was one thing you could rely on, it was JJ always being there.

Even after his mom left, JJ was there. Moreso after Luke began the drinking and the drugs. It was often a point of contention between him and your mother. She felt she owed it to her long time friend to look after her son and Luke put JJ in danger every day.

Kindergarten started with you and JJ, and ended with you, JJ, John B and Pope. The four of you becoming an instant package deal.

The three of them were there when your dad passed away suddenly when you were 10. Though John B and Pope were supportive, JJ never left your house. Sleeping in a sleeping bag outside your bedroom door for weeks.

It was the four of you navigating your adolescence up until the age of 14. The Summer before sophomore year started with four and finished with five.

Kiara became a fast friend when her parents opened The Wreck and you needed a Summer job to keep you busy. The rest was history, Kie’s Kook year being nothing but a snide comment here and there.

JJ joked that you were the glue that held the Pogues together. If they didn’t have you they’d all fall apart. He loved you since you were 14, all throughout high school and he never said a thing. You staying in his life was more important than how you stayed in his life.

Now you were quickly approaching graduation. You hadn’t been too open about your post-grad plans and that worried him.

He was worried you were going to leave him and never come back. Was it overdramatic? Sure, but it was also realistic. You were always too good for him and maybe that’s why he never told you how he felt.

It was the night before the first day of senior year and the Pogues were sitting around the fire at the Chateau.

“What are everyone’s post-grad plans? We haven’t really talked about it.” John B spoke. “Way to kill the mood, dude.” JJ replied. “Come on, we have to talk about it. We can’t stay at the Chateau forever.” John B replied. “Well, I got into USC. Only a 6 hour drive from you guys.” Kie said.

“I’ll be going to community college on the mainland.” Pope replied. “Starting trade school next fall, open up my own garage here.” John B said. “Y/N, what about you?” Kie asked. “Oh, well, if you would’ve asked me two weeks ago I would’ve said nothing at all but, I do have some news.” You answered.

JJ furrowed his eyebrows at your words. News? What have you not told him? You tell him everything.

“I applied to UNC and I got in. Almost a full ride but I’ll work for the rest of my tuition.” You announced. The Pogues cheered and came to their feet to applaud you. You had always talked about attending UNC ever since you found out your dad had attended.

“That’s amazing, Y/N!” John B cheered. “And only 3 hours from you and J.” You commented. JJ being the only one to not congratulate you didn’t go unnoticed by you. While everyone was occupied, you nudged his foot with yours, signalling to go down to the dock.

You both got up from your spots and walked down to the water in silence. “I know what you’re thinking,” You started. “And what am I thinking?”JJ asked. “You think I’m leaving you. That I’m going to move on from you, find something better.” You continued.

JJ’s silence proved that your thoughts were right. “J, I’m not going anywhere yet. It’s only August, we have almost a year left.” You spoke. “Y/N, this is UNC. You’re going to school, get your fancy degree and move on from your entire life. Me included, you won’t want to hang out with some guy who’s doing nothing with his life.” JJ explained.

“You’re taking over the entire yacht club. That’s a big deal! You’re going to be getting a head start with your life while I’ll be in school for 8 years waiting to start mine.” You replied. “Besides, you think 3 hours is going to keep me away?” You added.

JJ shrugged, his gaze fixated on the water in front of him. “You’re my best friend, JJ. I would never leave you behind.” You added. “Do you promise?” He asked. “I promise.” You said, holding out your pinky in front of him.

“A pinky promise? Come on, Y/N, we’re 18.” JJ said. “And when have I ever broken a pinky promise?” You rebutted. JJ smirked slightly before hooking his pinky with your’s.

XX

It was October. The leaves began to change and the air was becoming brisk. Fall had descended upon the Outer Banks and Fall meant homecoming. You thought you had outgrown the excitement for homecoming but it was your last one. And you thought that maybe homecoming was the perfect time to tell JJ how you felt about him.

Somewhere between 15 and 16, the feelings of love you had for JJ had gone from platonic to the complete opposite. That was why you held off on telling JJ about UNC. Thinking that you two could live in your perfect teenage bubble for a little while longer.

You felt stupid for trying to pursue a relationship with JJ a few months before you left for college but your friendship has withstood the test of time, it could withstand 266 miles. Right? You owed it to yourself to try.

“So, are you going to ask JJ to homecoming?” Kie asked. “How did you know?” You asked your friend as the pair of you stood at her locker. “Because I know you, Y/N. You’ve had feelings for you for as long as I’ve known you. You look at him the same way you look at Paul Mescal.” She teased.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to ask him. I’m terrified he’s going to say no and then I ruined everything.” You said. “He’s not going to say no. And even if he does, you guys have been through too much to let something this small ruin your friendship.” Kie replied.

You wanted to believe her and that everything was going to be fine one way or another bit as you stood outside JJ’s house, pacing, you couldn’t help but think of the worst case scenario. Luke was MIA so you didn’t have to worry about him storming outside.

JJ walked by his front door and heard your voice mumbling outside. He looked out the window and saw you pacing on his lawn. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” JJ asked as he opened the screen door.

“J, hey, uh I just wanted to ask you something. Or tell you something.” You stammered. “You okay?” He questioned. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You said. “What’s up?” He asked.

“Okay, so um, would you want to go to homecoming with me? Either as friends or, uh, more than friends?” You said, avoiding his gaze at all possible. “What?” He questioned. “Do you want to go to homecoming with me? Not as friends but as a date?” You repeated.

JJ thought he was dreaming. Were you really telling him you wanted to go to homecoming as more than friends? But why now? You were leaving for Chapel Hill in the Fall, how is it fair to either of you to pursue your feelings when you’ll just be leaving?

“Y/N, you’re leaving in August. I don’t think you want to do this.” He said. Your face fell as you processed his words. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked. “You’re leaving. Even if I felt the same way, we couldn’t do long distance.” He lied.

JJ lied through his teeth. He had to because he knew you needed to go to UNC. It was your dream, it’s where you always wanted to go. He couldn’t stand in the way of that. It was going to be harder as friends, he couldn’t imagine what it’d be like as your boyfriend.

Though seeing the look on your face made him wish he could take those words back. “Uh, this was a mistake. I should go.” You said, backing away slowly from his front porch.

You were so embarrassed, how could you have misread everything that poorly. “Y/N, we-“ JJ started. “Don’t. Please don’t make me feel worse than I already do.” You interrupted, before turning around and walking home.

JJ could see not only the unshed tears in your eyes, but the hurt as well. He could’ve been honest, told you the truth. He didn’t know how you’d both do long distance once you were in college. He was scared to lose you but he did anyway by lying.

You got home and walked through the front door and saw your mom standing in the entryway. “How’d it go?” She asked. But she could tell by the look on your face that it did not go well.

All you did in response was finally break down in tears. Your mom gave you a solemn look before she walked over and wrapped you in an embrace. “Oh honey, I’m sorry.” She spoke. “I feel so stupid.” You cried. “You’re not stupid, Y/N, you just loved him.”

XX

It was now December. Homecoming came and went and you didn’t go. Two months had gone by and you hadn’t spoken to JJ. You were angry, embarrassed, confused. Why did you think JJ felt the same way? Why did you ruin your friendship like this?

JJ called you everyday, sent texts, but you didn’t want to see or hear what he had to say. You were angry with him for embarrassing you the way he did. And you were stupid enough to think he actually liked you. He was JJ Maybank for crying out loud, every girl in your grade wanted to be with JJ. What made you different?

That meant that your relationship with the Pogues was suffering. You didn’t want to make them choose sides so you made the decision for them and therefore stopped seeing them as often.

But it was now Winter Break and they were determined to figure out what exactly had gone wrong.

“So what’s going on with you and JJ? You haven’t spoke in months.” John B asked as you sat outside your house. “Nothing. What did he tell you?” You questioned.

“Nothing. Just like you. Seriously, Y/N, what happened?” John B questioned. You were quiet for a moment, fidgeting with your fingers.

“I told him how I felt. I told him that I wanted to go to homecoming with him as more than a friend and he rejected me. He doesn’t feel the same way.” You explained.

John B was silent. More so out of confusion than anything else. How could JJ say he didn’t feel the same way when he 100% did?

“Can we please not talk about it? I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” You added, standing up to walk back inside.

John B was going to figure this out one way or another.

He arrived at home and saw JJ’s bike out front. “J?” He called entering the home. “What’s up?” JJ asked, entering the living room. “What is going on with you and Y/N? And don’t lie and tell me nothing. She told me everything.” John B questioned.

JJ was quiet for a moment, knowing that he was going to have to face his mistake. “You have feelings for her, J. Why did you tell her you didn’t?” John B added.

“Because she’s leaving. She’s going to UNC, going to make all of her dreams come true and I can’t be holding her back. What happens if we got together? One, she stays here for me and then down the line resents the fact she stayed instead of following her dreams. Two, I get my heart broken because I fall even more in love with her and she leaves. It doesn’t end well for either of us either way.” JJ answered.

“JJ, you can’t live your life like that. Have you ever thought about going with her? They have jobs in Chapel Hill.” John B suggested. “And be her loser boyfriend who followed her from home?” JJ scoffed. “Now you’re just being a jerk. And being way too hard on yourself.” His friend said.

“It’s the truth, John B.” JJ replied. “No it’s not. You just won’t let yourself be happy.” John B told him.

JJ was quiet as John B walked off to his room. Maybe he had a point. He was finding excuse after excuse to not let himself be happy. But his entire life was based on waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You were the most important person to him and he couldn’t lose you like he’s lost everyone else. What was he supposed to do? The damage was done, you weren’t talking to him. There was no way he could make things right.

His body moved before his brain could catch up, and he was getting on his bike making a run for your house. John B was right. He shouldn’t be letting these things get in the way of something that would make him happy.

When he arrived, he barely turned the bike off before he was already off. He just stood there for a moment, thinking about what he was going to do next. He didn’t really leave with a plan.

JJ looked down at the flower bed and saw small pebbles and his brain kicked into over drive.

He tossed the first pebble at your window, the sound slightly echoing off the glass. After a few seconds, he tossed another one.

You were sitting on your bed reading a book when you heard taps on your window. You furrowed your eyebrows as you discarded the book and walked to the window.

The sight shocked you. JJ was standing outside tossing rocks at your window. You slid your window opened and looked out. “JJ, what are you doing here?” You asked.

“You weren’t answering my calls or texts.” He says. “I know. That was on purpose.” You sassed back. “I want to say…I lied to you,” He started.

“I lied to you the night you asked me to homecoming. I do feel the same way. I have since we were 14 and you punched Rafe Cameron in the nose for making fun of my backpack. You’re my best friend. You’re perfect and I just got scared. Scared that no matter what, we were just going to be another high school couple and never speak again once you leave. I love you, Y/N and I was stupid to make you think that I don’t.” JJ finished.

“Give me a sec.” You said before closing the window. JJ’s heart sank. Were you going to reject him? He felt like he was going to throw up from anxiety.

JJ heard the front door open and moved to stand in front of your porch. You walked out in your seashell pajamas that you bought with Sarah last year.

"Do you mean all of that?" You asked. "You're not just going to bail when it gets hard?" You added. "No, no I'm not going to bail. You're worth it, Y/N. Like you said you'll only be a few hours away. I could be in Chapel Hill by noon on a Wednesday if you said the word." JJ said.

"Then I guess I need to get a UNC Boyfriend t-shirt. If that's what you want." You said. "I'll wear that t-shirt every single day." JJ said, walking towards you kissing you deeply.

You had imagined your first kiss with JJ many times and the real thing was so much better than you had thought.

[koolades-world]

ok thought!

big brother mammon who acts like one to lucifer too because lucifer deserves to have someone to lean on too! this post was totally inspired by rock on haha

imagine this:

mammon dragging luci home after a night out drinking with a tenderness only an older brother would know despite the frustration at his stupidity

mammon bringing luci dinner after he spent his evening working and trying to disguise his worry

mammon cleaning up luci’s coffee cups and messes around the house so he’s able to enjoy a clean space

mammon buy luci his favorite candle scent and leaving it on his desk without a note

mammon picking up luci’s chores without letting him know after he knows he had a hard day so he gets a nice surprise when he goes to do them

mammon "scheming" with diavolo to surprise luci in all sorts of ways

just all the things mammon would never say to luci's face, but wants him to know he cares <3

"Ya know, for the little brother in this relationship, I feel like I'm draggin' ya home a lot more than I should. Getting wasted at Lord Diavolo's party isn't exactly a great look for ya." Mammon was carrying his older brother, Lucifer, on his back. They'd just left Diavolo's birthday party. As the right hand man to the Prince of Hell, Lucifer was obviously by his side the entire time. Every time someone offered Diavolo a drink, Lucifer would take it and down it himself to avoid him getting wasted and acting afool at his own party. The gesture was sweet, but of course it resulted in Lucifer getting wasted himself.

Mammon had been enjoying dancing with Mc when the two of them noticed Lucifer begin to act overly emotional and erratically. He was leaning heavily into Diavolo's side, looking close to tears and telling him he loved him. Beel was nowhere in sight, so Mammon knew he had to step up to the plate. While he didn't want to leave Mc alone, he knew one of his brothers would be willing to take his place. He flagged down which ever of his brothers that he saw first, which happened to be Satan, who was conversing with someone Mammon presumed he knew. After explaining the situation, Mammon left with Lucifer in tow behind him. As bum hurt he was about having to call it a night earlier than he'd wanted to, since he'd planned to stay at that party all night without a break, he knew Lucifer needed him more.

With his older brother on his back with a little help from Satan and Mc, Mammon set off on his way home. Mc had been the group's designated driver of that night, yet for some reason he didn't think to ask Mc to just drive them home. So, he resolved to walking because going back in would be too embarrassing, but it wasn't too far to home. The walk was mostly uneventful, besides Lucifer's sniffling and incoherent babbling. A few times he went off on a rant, and all Mammon did was nod and ask vague questions.

Once they got home, Mammon was quick to bring Lucifer upstairs. After opening the door to his room, he put Lucifer down on his bed. While the bed was made, a few empty cups and a large stack of papers sat on his bedside table. If it hadn't been for Diavolo's party, Mammon wasn't sure Lucifer would have left his room. He picked up the cups and moved the paperwork out of the way. He got a set of pajamas for his brother, and instructed him to go change, while he went back downstairs to get some water for him.

"Here. Drink this." Mammon passed the water to Lucifer, who was sitting on the edge of his bed and miraculously fully dressed. He took the glass without a word and drank half of it in one go. "How are ya feelin'?" He stood in front of him, hands on his hips.

"I'm tired." Lucifer told him. He then flopped over onto his back on his bed. With a sigh, Mammon rolled him onto his side and sat beside him.

"Get some rest then. I'll be here." Mammon's D.D.D. was dead, so he set it down on the bed beside him since Lucifer's D.D.D. was currently charging. Lucifer shut his eyes pretty quickly and Mammon thought he was asleep. Resolved to just sitting there, waiting, Mammon began to think about that night of fun he'd have before. He loved Lucifer, but the choice to drink that recklessly was stupid. But, it was because he cared so much, he was willing to make a fool of himself to prevent that same thing from happening to Diavolo, and potentially help him avoid harm. Mammon wasn't sure how many drinks he'd had, or what was in them.

The phone ringing interrupted his train of thought. His was dead, so he looked over to Lucifer's to see Mc was calling. After picking it up, he was greeted with Mc with the sound of the party in the background. "Hello?" They said.

"Hey, Mc. Somethin' the matter? Lucifer is asleep." Mammon held the phone to his ear, trying to keep his voice down.

"Oh, sorry. No, everything is fine. Just wanted to check up on you. Everything good there?" They lowered their voice.

"Yeah, thanks for checkin'. What time will ya be home? If ya know." Mammon looked over at Lucifer, who still hadn't moved.

"Soon. Belphie is asleep in a corner and Beel ate everything already, so they're tapped out. Asmo is still going, but I can pry him away easily, and Satan is ready to go when I am. I actually haven't seen Levi, but I assume he's in a side room somehere." Mc chuckled a little into the phone, presumably at something they saw.

"Alright. I'm stayin' with Lucifer. See ya later." Mammon waited for his goodbye to put down the phone. Once he did, he hung up and plugged it back in. He peered at Lucifer's face again. He looked normal, so he let himself begin to think again. This time, he didn't get far at all.

"Mammon?" Lucifer spoke up.

"Aren't ya supposed to be asleep?" Mammon looked back at him again. He was awake now, his crimson eyes searching his face.

"I don't say thank you enough." Mammon was taken aback by his words.

"Sorry?" Mammon blinked.

"Thank you. You really do care." With that, Lucifer shut his eyes again. Mammon was a little shocked, but smiled to himself. Lucifer could be so sweet when he wanted to be, but it just took a little Demonus in his system to make him say what he was thinking.

[lovelyjj]

I feel like jj would be the type to be obsessed with your butt and he would like slap and squeeze it in front of anybody to remind them who the reader belongs to!!

no because you’re so right!!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

JJ would totally be obsessed with your ass. You would be on the hammock laying on top of JJ, when he would move his hand from being around your waist, to your butt. He would give it a few love taps letting you know he’s there.

You would be out on the HMS pogue in your red bikini. The day on the water being refreshing. The whole crew being there. You were sitting next to JJ, while he drank his beer.

The cooler was in the middle of the boat and you got up to grab a drink. You bent over to reach the beverage when JJ smacked your ass. Your shriek turned into a giggle as JJ said “need everyone to know what’s mine.”

John B shook his head while Sarah laughed. Kiara rolled her eyes and Pope averted his eyes. The pogues were somewhat use to JJ’s behavior.

“JJ!” you warned.

“What? Baby you look so hot!” JJ smirked.

JJ then patted his lap for you to come sit on after you got your drink. You complied. JJ was happy to have you close to him, and you spent the rest of the boat ride wrapped up in each other.

A few days later you were at the château waiting for JJ to get off work. He was waiting tables at the country club. You were hanging out with the other pogues in the mean time.

JJ waltzed through the château in search of you. When he found you in the kitchen he greeted you with a hug. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you close to him.

“Hi baby!” JJ addressed.

“Hi J,” you mumbled into JJ’s chest.

The both of you shared a kiss. During the kiss JJ’s hands roamed your body until he got to the swell of you ass. He gave it a good squeeze.

“Really JJ?” Kiara voiced from the couch.

“I did not need to see that,” Pope commented.

“What I can’t love on my girl in peace?!” JJ responded after breaking the kiss.

And when you’re at a party most likely at the boneyard, JJ looks out for you. He knows how hot you are and he knows how guys can be. He’s possessive in a good way.

At the rare occasion you’re not next to JJ and some random touron comes up to you, you let out a huff. You turn to look at him and he smiles.

“Hey my name is Brandon, would you like me to get you a drink?”

Your face scrunched up as you said, “Um no thank you.” You shifted awkwardly.

Meanwhile JJ was watching the interaction from afar visibly angered. He decided he needed to step in.

“Come on I can show you a good time,” the touron told you.

“She said no man,” JJ butted in.

“Yeah and who are you?” Brandon questioned.

“The love of her life so you better back the fuck off,” JJ warned.

“Jeez i didn’t know,” Brandon walked off.

“Come here,” JJ beckoned.

You didn’t need to be asked twice. You embraced JJ in a hug and then you placed your lips on his. The kiss was frantic and hungry. JJ grabbed and squeezed your ass, trying to make sure Brandon knew who you belonged to.

Then you and JJ were outside in the yard at the château. You were in folding chairs around the fire. You were sitting on JJ’s lap. JJ moved your hand discreetly to his bulge.

“You’re the only one my dick could get hard for,” he whispered.

“JJ!”

“What it’s true,” he quietly defended.

He gave your butt a few loving taps and then rested his hand there.

Overall JJ was obsessed with you ass and he would slap it all the time. You didn’t mind it that much because you loved him and you thought it was his way of showing he cares.

[theodorecanaryhood]

Roy’s brother

Jason Todd x Roy Harper x Male! Reader

Jason (top right) Roy (bottom left) and reader (bottom right)

Author note: Hello 👋 took a short break to meet my little nephew, my brother and sister in law are doing great and I’m ready to entertain you all again!

It was a long night for Roy as he found his body aching, his arms tired and shaking and his head pounding.

The hot water hit Roy’s skin as he took a deep sigh, soap cleaning him up as he stood under the shower.

The nights sleep was a great one, Roy slept deeply as the sun rose against his freckles.

‘Morning’ Jason spoke gravelly as he sipped his coffee.

‘Morning J-Dog’ Roy smiled a little as he poured himself a coffee.

The two best friends were in a comfortable silence, waking up from the hit of caffeine. Patrol was rough for the two, but the day was going to be filled with adventures.

Jason sprayed his cologne as Roy came out of his room, Jason smiled a little.

‘Nice outfit’ Jason winked as Roy laughed.

‘Thanks, you too. Great choice of fashion by the way’ Roy complimented his best friend.

‘Well, gay guys don’t spend all that time in the closet for nothing’ Jason joked.

The two strolled the streets, got lunch and got a few drinks at the bar across town. The day turned later as Jason started to feel hungry again.

‘Grab us a table, I’ll meet you there. Y/n just pulled up’ Roy said as Jason went into the restaurant.

Roy hadn’t seen his little brother since graduation, you’d moved once you left education and saw the world.

Jason hadn’t met you before as you weren’t on the scene, you’d visited Roy over time but it was always just the two of you.

Roy walked in laughing as Jason looked up from his phone, he saw two red headed men walking towards him.

‘Jay, this is y/n, my baby brother. Y/n this is my best friend Jason’ you two were introduced.

Jason seemed a little shy as he spoke to you, the couple of times that Roy took a bathroom break Jason would seem shy to talk to just you.

You’d been there for a week already, time had flown by. You decided you wanted to stay where you were.

Travelling was done, now it is time to settle and work. Live in one place and see where you go.

‘So, celebrity crush?’ Jason asked the table as the three of you sat drinking.

‘Emily Blunt and Margot Robbie’ Roy said with no hesitation.

Jason rolled his eyes at the obvious choice for Roy, you chuckled.

‘Y/n?’ Jason asked as you thought, mostly because you didn’t know the reaction you would get.

‘Vinnie Hacker and Kaden Hammond’ you answer, Jason raised his eyebrows.

‘Tattooed and bad boy type, it’s hot’ you finished.

‘I guess mine is a guy with red hair’ Jason smiled a little, as he blushed.

Roy felt the need to make a comment as he saw Jason had been checking you out.

‘I bet his big brother would beat the fuck out of you if you hurt him’ Roy said sternly as Jason nodded.

‘Am I missing something?’ You asked, both men shook their heads.

A few more days, you decided to wake up early to clean and cook for Jason and Roy. They’d been having hard patrols.

‘Morning handsome’ Jason whistled as he walked in, wearing just his briefs.

‘Hey’ you almost gasped as you saw Jason’s tattoo filled, rock hard abs.

Roy walked in the door as he saw you handing Jason a cup of coffee, noticing that you were now checking out Jason.

‘Morning you two’ Roy announced his presence, you handed your brother his coffee.

The three of you sat and had breakfast as well as watching movies together in the afternoon.

‘Right, patrol time. Behave yourselves’ Roy said as he stood up and went to get ready.

Jason didn’t know how to approach his new attraction to his best friends brother, he went outside for a smoke break - only to be approached by you doing the same thing.

‘You smoke?’ Jason asked you, you nodded a little.

‘Yeah, Roy doesn’t know’ you revealed as Jason chuckled.

Jason placed his and your cigarette in his mouth as he lit them both, handing you yours.

You inhaled the smoke deeply as Jason checked you out, admiring your presence. Feeling calm and wanting only to grab hold of you.

‘You ok?’ You asked, Jason nodded, still not sure how to tell you.

He’d been picturing you in his head, lying next to him in his bed. Your bare body pressed against his, it made Jason spend nights having to relieve himself plenty of times. You in his head.

Jason threw his cigarette end on the ground, the orange tip fell to the floor as you did the same.

‘Beer?’ You asked as Jason smiled a little, with a slight nod.

It was a slow night as the two of you got to know each other better. The two of you smoked and drank together.

Jason felt himself burning as he saw your red hair flop as you ran your fingers through it. Roy knew from the start that Jason liked you, Roy knew you probably did too.

‘Jason?’ You said his name for the fifth time as Jason zoned out.

‘Sorry’ he replied as he caught you staring into his eyes, your e/c eyes burned through his.

Jason caught himself reaching for your hand across the table, surprised to see you greeting his touch.

Before long, Jason’s lips were on yours in a passionate kiss. Your bodies tangled together as you both shed your clothes.

‘You a top or bottom?’ Jason asked you, you chuckled.

‘Verse’ you sighed as Jason threw you on the bed, crawling on top of you as you kissed him again.

Jason’s body was on top of yours in seconds, his length buried deep inside you.

Jason was an animal that night, he had you in positions you’d never heard of. He was gentle with you, making sure you were ok.

Jason made you feel things you’d never felt before.

The sun rose strong this morning as your red hair was messed, your naked body splayed on the bed next to Jason.

You saw the time, realising that it was morning. You’d fallen asleep and realised Roy was probably home.

‘Shit’ you whispered as you rolled out of Jason’s bed, searching for your underwear.

You snuck to the shower, seeing marks on your body from your wrestle with Jason last night. Some you wouldn’t be able to hide as well as others.

Jason appeared in the shower behind you, placing his hand over your mouth.

It wasn’t too long before Jason was inside you again. The hot water hit your skin as Jason found a rhythm inside you.

With Jason’s hand over your mouth, you let out muffled moans. Feeling Jason empty himself inside you once again.

‘Good morning’ Jason whispered in your ear, you kissed him as you smiled.

You finished in the shower as Jason shaved and brushed his teeth at the sink, watching you get out of the shower.

‘Hand me the towel’ you pointed as Jason handed you the towel. Very reluctantly.

‘Think Roy’s awake yet?’ Jason asked, you shrugged as you dried yourself off with the towel.

Breakfast was awkward as Roy was none the wiser about the events of the night before, he sipped his coffee sleepily.

‘You guys get along?’ Roy asked, you saw Jason shoot you a wink.

‘Yeah, you could say that’ you replied, Roy nodded.

‘Get upto much?’ He followed, Jason smiled, standing behind Roy as he poured his coffee.

‘No’ Jason replied, as deadpanned as he could.

Over the next few nights, the two of you would sneak into each other’s bed. Have nights of passion, and sneak back early morning before Roy got up.

You began to feel bad, lying to your older brother wasn’t how you wanted this to go. But damn, Jason was with the thrill.

After a month, Jason was becoming more intense, not liking when Roy came up with the bright idea of setting you up with someone.

Jason was a little rough that night, he became very possessive. Some would say, protective.

Jason rested his head on the pillow as you lay your head on his chest, the two of you sharing a cigarette as you waited for the heat to rush back down again.

‘Y/n, I have to tell you something’ Jason broke the silence.

‘Mmm’ you hummed, turning your head a little to look at Jason.

‘I love you’ Jason stared into your eyes, you smiled brighter than you ever had.

‘I love you too’

Another shared kiss as you both celebrated a revelation, celebrating the love you two shared.

‘What the fuck?’ Roy almost screamed, standing in the doorway.

You jumped as Jason bolted out of your bed, standing in nothing but his underwear.

‘What the fuck Jason? My little brother? You and my little brother? I can’t believe this, the two of you’ Roy raged, his skin colour matching his red hair.

Jason stayed where he was, even though Jason is much bigger and taller than Roy, he’s seen what he can do when he’s angry.

‘Roy, I can explain’ you tried to reason.

Roy was fired up, ready to hit someone and you didn’t want it to be your boyfriend.

‘Roy, we’re in love, please. Don’t be angry, we both wanted it’ you said, walking slowly to your older brother.

His heart began to feel less heavy, his eyes turned back to emerald as Roy felt himself calm down.

‘Is that true? Do you love my brother Jason?’ Roy asked sternly, Jason nodded.

‘I do, I love him’ Jason confirmed, Roy sighed, running his hand through his red hair.

Roy would never be ok with his best friend dating his little brother, but he also would never be ok hurting either of you.

‘You break his heart, I’ll break your fucking kneecaps’ Roy pointed to Jason.

Jason nodded, believing it, you smiled a little as Roy shook his head a little.

It was a rough night as Roy didn’t sleep, thinking everything in his head. He never asked the gory details, he figured you two had slept together.

Roy smiled when he saw Jason kiss the top of your head, it was the next morning in the kitchen.

Jason kissed your head, you held onto Jason’s hand. The two of you shared a quick kiss as Jason walked with you to the table.

‘You ok?’ You asked your older brother, who was smiling a little.

‘I will be’ was all he said in response.