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swordgrace · 1 month

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& 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈’𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ gwayne hightower x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: you and your husband decide to take advantage of the quiet gardens near the red keep.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: drabble — requested by anonymous.

{ WORD COUNT: 4.1K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), porn with little plot, risk of getting caught, semi-public sex, gwayne is a switch, cunt-drunk gwayne, sex in the red keep gardens, teasing, hair-pulling kink, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, groping, making out, dirty talk, mild praise kink, p in v sex (unprotected), mild scratching, soft ending.

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am on the Gwayne train right now, I just adore writing for him. This is a smaller story, and I think writing some drabbles might do me a bit of good! I hope that you all enjoy! ❤️ Thanks so much for the love & support!

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐩, 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐚.

The smell was akin to a perfumed dowager, the air thick with roses and honey, petals drifting along in the evening breeze. It was a stark contrast to the pungent scent of the rest of the city — perhaps that is why you favored the gardens.

Orange tendrils of a waning sun spread across the leaves, verdant and bright, turning the gardens all sorts of colors — shades of emerald and gold, intermingling with the many flowers there.

Most souls that had occupied the gardens had made themselves scarce, turning it into a paradise that only you shared with another. You often admired the general splendor even when it was crowded, but now, it gave you a rather unobstructed view.

The various palette of the gardens, particularly any deeper shades of forest-green, matched that of your husband’s doublet, embroidered with golden thread. It was strange to see Gwayne removed from his armor, his silvery vassal that kept him well-protected.

In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, there were days spent in respite, much to your delight. Though, war would steal him away from you again — you intended on making the most out of each moment, beseeching him to remain by your side. He obliged you, fortunately, and you never objected to it.

A golden hour, brightest before dusk, painted you in shades that Gwayne had committed to memory, your features bathed in dying light. You were swathed in gowns of cerulean, a deeper shade of azure that had brought him to heel when you emerged with it on.

Merrily, he often touted that he had the most beautiful wife in all of the realm, and such a sentiment didn’t change nor waver. It was resolute, done with a fondness that made its way to you.

“Perhaps, once this conflict comes to a close, you and I shall return to Oldtown,” Gwayne’s gallant resonance cut through the contented silence, his timbre often filled with regality, the elegant poise of a well-learned Knight. “I’ve grown surfeited by this grisly place.”

If Gwayne had not been so proficient with a blade, you suspected that a quill and his sharp tongue would’ve done him a world of good in another lifetime. His flowery speech had charmed you time and time again, and you were left captivated.

Oldtown had become your home, a sanctuary of which you and Gwayne had built a peaceful life together. With Prince Daeron in your care, it was something of a family — one that you suspected would grow in the near future.

“As have I,” With a gentle sigh, your fingers danced along his velvet-clad forearm, your arm interlaced with his as he led you through the teeming labyrinth. At twilight, it had become wonderfully quiet, a place of solace away from the bustling hum of the Red Keep. “It is a dour place.”

Dour was a mere understatement — Gwayne knew what harm this city could do, crushed beneath the oppressive weight of the Red Keep. Even in its architectural splendor, it remained a shadow, haunting your every step as it loomed above the both of you.

Even in the sanctuary of the Gardens, one could not escape it. He did not envy his sister for being sequestered here for most of her lifetime — he imagined that it likely led to a path of misfortune and frustration. Being in Oldtown, he could afford many liberties, freedoms that weren’t permitted in King’s Landing.

As you continued on your path, a stone terrace opened before you, a comely overlook with a sizable gazebo, marked by dimly-lit torches. Save for the picturesque view of Blackwater Bay, it was surrounded by foliage and flora on all sides.

Gwayne felt your concern in waves, an unspoken sentiment, knowing that he would be called to leave again. Cole’s armies were rallying to march to Harrenhal, and he was summoned to ride alongside him, the second-in-command. You had made your disdain for this known, and Gwayne couldn’t fault you for it.

“I would sorely dislike it if our time together was to be spent in silence,” He watched you through cerulean hues as you rounded the gazebo, moving toward the overlook. Waves gently lapped at the outcropping of rock, breaking upon it, saltwater kisses peppering your cheeks. “I have a duty, dearest.”

A begrudging sigh tore past your lips, and you staved off the sudden onslaught of turmoil. You had come to-terms with the inevitability of his departure — you had dealt with it once before, but the sting never lessened. “I understand. I loathe you and love you for it.” You murmured, your smile threadbare.

Your answer retained a twinge of lightheartedness to it, in the face of a bleak future. Gwayne couldn’t help but scoff, visage dancing with amusement as he stepped toward one of the massive walls of gardenias. Plucking a pale blossom from its stem, he crossed the stone to you, a gesture of affection.

“Loathe me, is that it?” Gwayne wouldn’t have your last moments together spent in melancholy — and you seemed to be in agreement. He placed the blossom behind your ear, carefully tucking it into place. “Have I vexed you so easily?”

Planting a palm against his chest, you allowed your fingertips to trace across plated velvet, dancing toward the Hightower sigil, embroidered into the collar. He was resplendent in noblemen’s garb, painfully handsome and fresh-faced, save for the healing cut upon his lip and bruised brow.

A taut, muscled arm moved to snake around your waist, effortlessly caging you in against him. Your saccharine scent invaded his senses, swarming around his head like a thick haze, one that he delighted in. Beneath the evening sky, he made his ardor for you known, a real and living thing.

“You are swift to credit yourself, husband. I may resort to knocking you from your pedestal.” You teased, tender voice growing softer, a mere purr to his ears. Gods, you were wonderfully divine — Gwayne brazenly squeezed your hip through your gowns, auburn brows lifting in amusement.

Instead of puffing his chest with a playful retort, Gwayne could no longer resist the tempting curve of your lips, craning down to kiss you. It was a sweet mingling of mouths, slow and exploratory, happy to take their time with one another.

The first inklings of an amorous heat crackled between the both of you, a rapturous hunger that hadn’t been sated since he returned from Rook’s Rest. You simply could not get enough of your beloved husband, hands clamoring from his plush doublet to his mane of copper tresses, gripping them tightly.

Even with the thicker material of your dress, Gwayne greedily grasped at your curves, able to feel the pliant swell of your physique beneath. You had already seduced him with your steep necklace and ample bosom — sometimes, you were more of a salacious minx than you were a maiden. He enjoyed you both ways.

Your chambers in the Red Keep seemed so far away, and neediness began to take root, desire flourishing where propriety could not. As you insistently tugged upon his auburn locks, Gwayne felt his cock stir to life within his trousers, twitching as if to remind him of his carnal need for you.

“Incomparable, I must confess,” Gwayne exhaled, hot breath fluttering across your visage. Hints of wine retained their presence upon his tongue, skin smelling of woodland musk and fine soaps. “Not a single wandering eye to find us here.” His timbre dropped into a delectable purr, lips pressing themselves to the curve of your jaw.

Exhilaration struck at the pit of your stomach, coupled with the familiar wave of arousal, its inklings slick and warm between your legs. “What are you implying, husband?” You asked, breathy and wanton, clinging to him like a drowning woman.

A low, teasing hum slipped betwixt his lips, mouth molding to your flesh, gliding across the slender column of your throat. One hand dropped to cup your derrière through the thicker material of your dress, longing to see it around your feet, instead.

A sheepish moan tore past your mouth, unabashedly stoking the fire that simmered between the both of you. Gwayne greedily lapped at your sweet skin, like a thick honey upon his tongue. “It is just you and I, sweetling. Might you indulge me?” He hummed, desperate to have you now that desire had taken hold.

Gods, you wanted him terribly.

It was a fascinating twist, with Gwayne wanting to have you here, given the publicity of the locale. He was often a man to take you to your chambers in the name of chivalry, but this daring, yearning side to him — you quite enjoyed it, his change of heart.

“Gods, I love you.” You sighed, feeling him relocate the both of you towards one of the thick, stone columns that held the gazebo aloft. It was rough against your back, but you cared little for it, hastily unlacing the bodice of your dress. The silken smallclothes you wore beneath would suffice.

A low, stifled groan escaped Gwayne’s mouth, cerulean hues sharp and amatory, roving over you with a thinly-veiled desire. “Seven Hells, you drive me to the brink of madness, wife.” He murmured, swiftly relieving you of that mound of azure velvet.

The simple slip you wore beneath clung to your curves, accentuating your physique in pale shades of ivory, nipples peeking through the thin material. His hand slithered beneath, seeking to find the slick heat of your cunt, pushing your legs apart with his thigh.

Gathering your slip within your hands, you tugged the material up, until it pooled around the swell of your hips, giving him unhindered access. Gwayne careened forward, mouth colliding with yours, lips desperately craving every fiber of your being.

His other hand moved to cup your breast through your gown, thumb languidly swiping over your pebbled nipple, teasing the bud as he rolled it between his fingers. A sharp, noisy gasp escaped you, followed by the unrestrained sound of a moan.

Your hands clamored to perch atop his shoulders, sinking down into the velvet, longing to see him naked. If you closed your eyes, it was easy to imagine, but you desired the real thing. With haste, your digits slipped toward the line of golden clasps along the front, aiming to get it unbuttoned.

“You minx.” Gwayne panted into your mouth, digits beginning to stroke along your slit. Much to his delight, you were already warmed, wet and honey-thick upon his fingers. Lips twined in hot clashes, and he never allowed it to devolve into something sloppy. Each kiss possessed meaning, a fervent love for you.

As you unclasped his doublet, he moved his arms enough to relinquish the stuffy weight of the fabric, musculature lean and taut, his skin pale and glittering in the gentle twilight. It let you squeeze his shoulders, tracing over the freckles there, reveling in his bare flesh.

Gwayne released a few breathy ‘I love you’s’ into your lips, before he relocated to the sensitive column of your throat. He spoke with reverence, as if he had come to worship his goddess, lay himself down at your feet. Your fingers wove themselves against the nape of his neck, tugging on his copper locks.

Practiced, dexterous digits continued to caress along your cunt, before pushing past your folds. He grazed your clit, sending a rush of goosebumps cascading down the length of your spine. “Gwayne,” You moaned, the sweetest melody to his ears as you rocked forward, desperate for any shred of friction. “Please!”

His cock twitched again within his breeches, aching with something powerful, needing to be inside of you. Patience was his virtue and his agony — he still wanted to taste your first. He continued to knead into your breast, evoking another blissful whine from you.

Despite wearing his honor and chivalry like a coat of armor, he cared little for the consequences of potentially being caught. He would ravish his beloved wife here in these gardens — there was no sin in such an act. Kissing along your jugular, he felt you grip and pull on his hair, filling him with an excitable fire.

“Gods, I must taste you,” Gwayne groaned, voice tinged with an alluring husk, palm continuing to caress the plush swell of your breast. The thin, silken strap of your slip began to sag, and he did not fix it, exposed to the unblemished plane of your collarbone. “If you will permit me to do so.”

“You needn’t ask, husband,” A wanton whimper left you when Gwayne’s digits abandoned your cunt, though it would soon be replaced with the fine heat of his greedy tongue. Through a lovesick gaze, you observed in rapturous silence as Gwayne sank to his knees, as if he were preparing to pray. “I belong to you.”

Watching his auburn crown move towards the apex of your thighs was a most tantalizing sight, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. Molten heat surged within your belly, churning with a violent anticipation as you braced one hand atop his shoulder.

A sight to die for, to kill for — Gwayne would’ve fought a thousand battles if it meant that you were the reward at the very end, a resplendent maiden in all of your glory. He would’ve endured torture unimaginable for you, razed down armies, destroyed cities all for you.

The first lap of his tongue caused your knees to buckle, raking hot embers across your cunt. He wedged his way in between your legs, shoulders keeping you apart just enough. Gwayne was quite candid about his enjoyment of tasting you — thoroughly cunt-struck.

A groan stirred within his chest as your fingers grazed through his copper tresses, finding their purchase near the base of his skull. He did not relent, tongue carefully splitting past your folds, greeted by the saccharine onslaught of your arousal.

“Gwayne.” A breathy sigh tore past your parted lips, lulled into subservience from the steady, exploratory laps of his tongue. He was sluggish, allowing the anticipation to mount, nose brushing along your mound.

Your taste was ambrosial, thick and heady, like a haze that he had no desire to escape from. There were many moments where he’d dreamed of this, on the march to Rook’s Rest, sprawled across his cot, fantasizing of you again and again.

He quite enjoyed the way in which you sighed his name, passion bubbling forth from your chest, head rolled back against the stone column. Careworn palms reached for your haunches, delighted to take their fill of you, caressing along the backs of your thighs.

“Exquisite,” Gwayne exhaled, catching his breath to press a string of kisses all along the inside of your thighs. “By the Seven, you taste divine.” He groaned, drunk and dizzy from your cunt. A soft moan escaped you as you coaxed him back, and he willingly obliged.

With another hot, eager lap of his tongue over your core, your knees rattled like leaves in the breeze, feeling his shoulders bully their way between your legs. A brusque, warm breeze fluttered throughout the gazebo, bathed in the waning light of the sunset. Stars began to glisten overhead, unhindered by the clouds.

Gwayne’s eagerness was palpable, able to be felt as he buried his face into your cunt, cerulean eyes fluttering shut in an expression of bliss. A groan stirred within his throat, fluttering throughout his chest as you fisted his auburn tresses, soft beneath your palms.

You could not get enough of him, keeping your hands on him in whatever way you could, chest heaving with wanton sighs. Carnality and desire permeated the air, the atmosphere thick with desperation. You always treated each moment as if it would be your last.

His mouth fervently worked against your slick cunt, sending pleasant shockwaves into the pit of your stomach. Goosebumps danced along your spine, followed by a shiver that made you moan. Your hips rolled forward, shamelessly grinding yourself into your husband’s waiting lips.

With a flick of his tongue, Gwayne sought the pearl of your cunt, lips eagerly kissing their way to your clit. He planted feather-light kisses around that sensitive clutch of nerves, causing you to tremble, digits tightening within his hair. Your grip was ironclad, but it was pleasurable for him, knowing you were enjoying yourself.

“Gods, Gwayne,” You whined, listening to the lewd noises of your chivalrous paramour suckling on your clit. Another onslaught of molten heat swirled within your stomach, seeping into your bones, manifesting as arousal between your thighs. “Do — Do not stop!” The urgency in your voice had increased exponentially.

If there were any evening stragglers in the Royal Gardens, you prayed to the Seven that they would not stumble upon the both of you.

The sight itself was inherently sinful, with you haplessly pressed against the stone column, gallant dress strewn across the ground, slip sagging along your physique. Gwayne’s emerald doublet had joined your garments below. You reveled in the sight of his head between your thighs, causing you to whimper.

Gwayne could detect when you were accelerating towards your release, able to feel the twitches and tremors in your thighs. He soothingly stroked along your silky flesh, interchanging between the greedy suckling of your clit, to long, broad strokes of his tongue.

His lips glistened with a sticky sheen of your nectar, of a finer stout than many, more delectable than any wine that had befallen his mouth. Gwayne worshiped you, kissed the ground you walked upon, and he did not feel an ounce of shame in it.

His cock throbbed with a desperate ache, precum slick around the head as it strained against his trousers. Your own satisfaction spurred him on, and your delightful noises only sent him spiraling into the depths of depravity. You hadn’t a clue of the things you did to him.

In a brazen maneuver, his tongue prodded against your entrance, gingerly thrusting inside of you. You gasped, biting at the inside of your cheek, digits raking through his auburn locks. You let your grip loosen, hips careening forward into his mouth again.

Gwayne ravished you, with the ravenous appetite of a starving dog. He moved back just enough to lap at your cunt, making a blazing trail from your entrance to your clit. “I’m close,” You huffed, issuing some warning to him before the dam had burst altogether. “Gwayne!”

It was the only word you knew in the present, his name — it rolled from your tongue in a delighted cry, laced with ardor and reverence. You reached your peak, shamelessly spilling yourself upon his tongue, and he was enamored with you.

With careful, sluggish strokes of his tongue, he delicately cleaned the mess he made of you, allowing you to bring yourself down from your peak. Even if the intensity had made you burn at a fever pitch, you were far from finished, tugging on Gwayne’s tresses to get his attention.

“Take me, husband,” It wasn’t a request — it was a demand, a command made upon a yearning wife. Desire glistened like a thick sheen within his cerulean eyes, which happened to widen at the sight of you. “Please.” You didn’t have to beg — Gwayne wanted you just as terribly.

He swiftly rose from between your legs, pupils dilated with lust as he steered you toward the stone bannister of the overlook, wide enough to support you. You sat down, hastily fumbling with the leather ties of his trousers. Gwayne parted your legs again, bending over you as he sought your mouth.

The taste of arousal — yours — fell heavy upon your tongue, lips clashing together as you desperately sought to free his cock from its confines. “I need you,” Gwayne husked against your mouth, pearlescent teeth briefly snagging on your lower lip. “Gods, how I’ve missed this, missed you.”

“Gwayne,” A moan escaped you, intermingling with his husky pants and sonorous groans. His forehead nudged against yours, lips hot and needy, and you were more than happy to reciprocate. “I need you, I …” Your voice tapered off when his cock slid against your folds.

He kept you steady, hands caging you against the bannister, the stone biting into your back as he kept you at an angle. Silk gathered around your hips, friction wafting between the both of you as he thrust forward, cock sinking into you.

Hitching a leg around his waist as best as you could, your hands roamed to his chest, nails digging into his collarbone as he began to find an erratic pace. He was loving and passionate, even still, but there was something inherently quick about his rhythm.

Perspiration glittered along his brow from the warm evening, yet it did not stop him from pounding away at you. His cock filled you perfectly, providing a delectable stretch that made your toes curl. It wasn’t an intimidating thing, but it was pretty, just like the rest of him.

Through his clenched teeth, Gwayne sang your praises, savoring the way in which your cunt constricted around him, as if drawing him in. “Seven Hells, your cunt is perfection,” Such lewd, crass words sounded so eloquent coming from his lips, as debonair as a Prince. “I cannot get enough of you, sweet wife.” He groaned.

Despite his crudely-spoken compliment, you were lost within the throes of your own pleasure, body rocked into submission by each snap of his hips. His cock bottomed out within you, movements swift yet punctuated, as if every thrust possessed meaning.

You loved Gwayne unconditionally — perhaps too much, if such a thing were possible. Your chest heaved with sweet, passionate sighs and gentle moans, forehead occasionally brushing against his. His hands kept themselves firm along your waist, curling into the silk of your slip.

His cock battered away at your slick cunt, aided by your mounting arousal. Everything felt so feverishly warm, as if you had been set ablaze, nerves feeling like they were steeped in fire. “More,” You moaned, and it effectively caught Gwayne’s attention. “Gwayne, please.” He was weak to your soft pleas.

Your beloved husband lacked harshness when it came to intimacy, something you adored about him. Even when his thrusts became desperate and erratic, chasing after his release, he never resorted to using you. His lips sought the column of your throat, nose brushing along your jugular.

A string of kisses peppered themselves against your sweet flesh, with the occasional suckling of his lips to your neck. A myriad of throaty whines and whimpers continued to leave you in droves, cunt pathetically clenching around him.

Buckling forward, Gwayne planted one palm against the stone bannister, the other caging in around you as he continued to pound away into your needy cunt. He kissed you wherever he could, dwindling into desperation and the innate desire to taste your sweet flesh.

His lips parted slightly, a strained grunt escaping him as he thrust forward again, until there was nowhere left for him to go. Gwayne pulled back just enough, the head of his cock still inside of you before he moved forward again. The friction made you shiver, fingers grasping at the nape of his neck.

His name continued to slip from your mouth, over and over again, like a whispered prayer. Your nails left behind red crescents upon his skin, sharp brands of your lovemaking. Gwayne groaned against your throat, desiring to kiss you once more, lips laying claim to yours with a fervor.

With another snap of his hips, Gwayne shuddered, nearly collapsing into you as he reached his peak. Hot ropes of seed brazenly spilled inside of you, warming your insides as he attempted to catch his breath. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing with him, allowing your hands to slack.

Gwayne politely removed himself from you, mindful of your garments as he fixed your gown back into place. The slip itself was disheveled, but he ensured its tidiness before you got dressed again.

“How divine you are,” Gwayne hummed, planting gentle kisses along the side of your face before it ended at the curve of your jaw. “Beautiful beyond comprehension.” He murmured, using two digits to delicately place the strap of your slip back upon your shoulder.

“You flatter me, husband,” Your smile was warm and amiable, the brightness of springtime, bringing a rosy flush to his features. “I quite enjoyed your brazen streak.” Through a smitten confession, Gwayne kissed your brow, lips twitching into a debonair smirk.

“I am not ashamed of ravishing my wife, be it in our chambers or in the garden,” He replied, reaching for his velveteen doublet and your azure dress. It was easy for him to slip back into the stuffy material, and he was more than happy to assist you. “I cannot get enough of you.”

His words were tantalizing, as if intended to bring about another string of salacious thoughts. Gwayne stood behind you as you stepped back into your dress, helping to lace your bodice up again. He planted a kiss along your exposed shoulder, and then to the crook of your neck.

You reached for his hand, letting it drape across your shoulder as you pressed a delicate kiss against his bruised knuckles. “You shall have me, Gwayne — for as long as you desire me.” You sighed, feeling his nose brush along your cheek, the warmth of his body pressing in behind you.

With a kiss to your temple, one oozing with such fondness and ardor that you feared you might melt, Gwayne’s lips hovered near the shell of your ear. In the twinkling dusk, he held you close. “Forever, then.”

#house of the dragon #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x you #gwayne hightower x y/n #hotd x reader #house of the dragon smut #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd smut #gwayne hightower #gwayne x reader #game of thrones x reader

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vildo · 7 months

Text

Pick your fighter

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spockeveryday · 4 months

Text

#spock #leonard nimoy #star trek #st: tos #1x24 this side of paradise #02364

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muzansfangs · 3 months

Note

Mojito + Douma & Kokushibo

Devotion.

Starring: Douma x f!reader; Kokushibo x f!reader; Douma x f!reader x Kokushibo; mention to Gyokko and Muzan;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, public sex, dom!Kokushibo, dom!Douma, sub!reader, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, anal penetration, double penetration, bitemarks, hair pulling, reader is a demon, manhandling, blood drinking, violence in battle, consuming humans, dispicable use of blood as a cosmetic, kind of sacrilegious scenary (sex in the shrine area);

Plot: As one of Douma’s most loyal followers, you had some privileges. One of those was being turned into a demon and trained to climb the ranks of the Upper Moons. When Gyokko died, Muzan chose you to take his place. In the middle of a training session with the leader of the Eternal Paradise Cult and the Upper Moon One, you accidentally hit them with your blood demon technique: aphrodisiac blood. Pinned down by your comrades, you were demanded to show them your devotion.

Drink chosen: MOJITO (double!penetration, threesome, anal sex, vaginal sex, marking the partner);

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

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The Moon glowed solitary in a starless dark sky. Under the pale light provided by the satellite, you were sitting on the cold stairs of an ancient shrine, forgotten by the neglectful humans who had built it centuries ago to probably appease the divine wrath of their god. Ivy and dirt blanketed the abandoned building, now deemed a pit of demons and curses by the local folklore. Pitiful. It was nothing but pitiful. You grimaced at the thought of the typical human inconsistency and stupidity.

Still, not long ago, you were a human too. Some memories from your past life still flashed in your mind. Who were you before you turned into a blood-thirsted creature? You were a devoted young girl, living in a Temple in which people disappeared mysteriously from their beds in the dead of the night. It was a ritual, or this is what the Leader of the Cult wanted his followers to believe. Those humans were doomed. Their naivety and faith were their downfall. However, while he deliberately manipulated the whining mass of people seeking protection and blessings from him, he had never tried to hide his identity, his nature, to you. Loyal to him, you had always stood by his side, not manifesting horrified expressions, when he devoured people in front of you. Your fingers were usually threading through his silky platinum blond hair, whilst he fed. Humming sweet melodies for him, helping him to bathe, you had gradually become his life companion, or something close to it. Along with the favors and attentions he required, he did not abstain from asking you to indulge into the bed with him.

Satisfying your Lord, though, did not feel unpleasant. There was something enthralling about the way he broke you down and built you up.

To show you his gratitude, Douma had therefore turned you into a demon to preserve your beauty. It was amusing how you had inheridated some of his characteristic. Your nails, pointy and lilac, were among them. Your devotion intensified. By the time you had trained enough to be capable of not shaking in front of Muzan Kibutsuji, Douma had suggested him to make you one of the Twelve Kitsuki. You felt on top of the world, the glory of finally standing at the top ensnared your senses and you gladly complied to the King of demons’s order to show your loyalty to him.

Standing up now, you detected the subtle attack coming from your left. Dodging it was easy, the golden tessen aiming at your neck cut a mere strand of your hair. You smirked, kneeling a few feet away from your opponent. Pearly fangs shining under the moonlight, Douma waved his hand at you casually.

“Ah, you’ve become so agile, Y/N-chan!” Douma stated, as you casually approached him with a soft smile on your red-painted lips. He, only he or another demon could say what it was smeared over your mouth.

His hand gripping your hair and straining your neck made you wince. His tongue darted out of his mouth, lapping at the dried blood you used to decorate your lips. Your clawed hand gripped his cheek, nails digging onto the smooth flesh enough to pierce his flesh and draw blood. You had become so much rougher with each other since you had become the new Upper Rank Five. Your animalistic and savage nature had kicked in, surprising your carefree friend to some extents.

“And you are perpetually needy” you whispered, lips hovering over his, before you ungraciously shoved him off of you and caused him to tumble onto the ground.

Douma was fascinated, watching as you rested your bare foot on top of his broad chest and bit down onto your wrist. Oh, how much he loved feeding from you. The sight of your crimson blood dribbling down your skin and splattering onto his face made his cock throb into his pants. The need to be inside of you was unbearable. The Upper Moon Two diligently opened his mouth, tongue welcoming the drops of blood you were so generously letting drip from your wound. Once again, you were subservient, indulgent.

His hand slided up your naked calf, squeezing it suggestively, rainbow-colored eyes locking with yours as you sighed and decided to cruelly deprive him of your proximity, of your intoxicating blood.

Douma groaned, pushing himself up on his elbows as your skin regenerated quickly “Ah, come on, what did I say to piss you off now?” he asked you, but he did not receive an answer from you, because the air around the shrine suddenly became asphyxiating. Your eyes grew round, your knees almost buckling under the pressure, upon ascertaining the Upper Moon One had joined you two. You were expecting him to come; whenever Muzan gave orders, he was the only one who never failed his expectations.

Bowing your head respectfully at the highest rank of what remained of the Twelve Kizuki, you greeted him “Kokushibo-dono, it’s a joy to welcome you here. We were just waiting for you to begin” you cooed, breaking the eeare silence enveloping the area.

You knew nothing about him, beside his sense of honor and an incommensurable admiration for the progenitor of your specimen. A rational, taciturn man who hardly ever barged into the unimportant squabbles taking place among those below him. What mattered to that man was the impertubable balance of powers.

An high-pitched gasp from behind you, caught your attention and, in a blink of an eye, Douma was standing right next to you “Ah, Kokushibo-dono, it’s been so long! You have declined all of my invitations to visit my residence… It’s a shame, really! Recently, I’ve taken in a couple of lovely girls. I looked forward to share them with you” the Upper Moon Two ranted, that fake overjoyed smile curving the angles of his lips upwards, while he sneakily swung his arm around your waist, yanking you against his side.

You sighed, a pout on your lips, before you searched for Kokushibo’s gaze to begin your training session. While you were more than capable of taking down a Pillar on your own, you still had some troubles in controlling your blood demon technique and, with the incoming war, Muzan wanted you to be extremely proficient, impeccable. Letting you train along the two strongest demons alive was the best way to improve your skills.

The former Demon Slayer sized you up, hand resting onto the hilt of his katana out of habit “Y/N. — he greeted you, his six bloodshot eyes then darting on the tall man at your left — Hard times require total concentration. There is absolutely no time to slack off and indulge into sordid, deplorable activities. Get in position” he sternly said, causing the younger demon to sneer and plant a kiss on your cheek before distancing himself from you leisurely.

You had no idea of the specific schedule he had chosen for you, yet the moment your nose was pierced by the fragrance of human blood, and your ears heard heavy footsteps rapidly consuming the road leading from the woods to the shrine, you put the pieces together. You looked at Kokushibo, not surprised by his lack of an explanation. Slayers. Those humans running straight to their death were Slayers the Upper Moon One had purposefully conducted to you.

“Oh, is that food? Please, tell me pretty girls in black uniforms are coming for us…” Douma chimed, his smile broadening as he tried to take a step towards the dark forest.

Kokushibo’s gesture of the hand, though, was enough to stop him from doing anything more than watching the scene unfold before his dreamy eyes.

Being the center of the attention had never been more difficult than now. Your eyes scrutinized the area, your nails ready to rip to shreds whomever had the audacity to attempt to slice your head off of your shoulders. A few seconds passed by before you spotted the group of young Slayers running towards you. Ready for battle, glaring at you, they unsheathed their blades. Six humans, not exactly weaklings, craved your head. But before you could just charge at them, Kokushibo spoke out again.

“Use your technique. Focus solely on it”.

His deep voice, for some reason, sent shivers down your spine. Probably, you were just enthralled by the massacre about to take place in the holy territory underneath your feet. Or maybe you were already losing control. Nevertheless, you quickly switched your attention back on the youngs group of humans in front of you.

“Good evening” you cooed, smiling faintly at the now shaking people looking at you and your frightening friends in horror.

“Upper ranks… We’re dead. Tell the crows to send a Pillar” a female Slayer blurted out, sweat beading her forehead as she frantically looked at both her sides in search for possible ways out of this situation.

“A Pillar? Are you fucking blind? We need more than a Pillar here!” her comrade said, eyes not leaving your frame as you sighed and shook your head. It was pointless. What could three Pillars do anyway against three upper ranks? Nothing.

Your eyes glinted, your hand caressing the cheek of the female slayer who had suggested to call a Pillar. You heard them gasp, when they realized you were standing practically among them, not fearing their deadly blades at all. You were blatantly challenging them, awaiting for the right moment to devour them. You giggled, before you disappeared from the small circle around you, holding the young fighter in your arms before you speaking again. Back in your original spot, you were running your fingers through the silky black hair of the girl, her body writhing under your touch as you leaned your face down to your let your lips graze her earlobe. It was time to satisfy your whims and you did not hesitate to activate your technique.

“Blood demon art: the human puppet” you whispered, the white sclera of your eyes fading into black.

Before your victim could even register what was happening, blood threds connected to her joints and she naturally dropped to her knees in front of you. Adoration in her eyes, she hugged your legs, the effects of your aphrodisiac blood driving her nuts.

“What’s happening? What did she do to her?” the head of the group snapped, trying to assess your reactions to figure out what your power could do.

Honestly, you were having fun. There was no pressure of ending things quickly for once. You had all the time in world to enjoy your minutes of glory and you did. You smiled at the girl at your feet, clasping your hands together as you listened to her words.

“How can I serve you?” she meekly asked you, cheeks flushing up as you hummed and gestured at her friends at her back, hunger for blood making your mouth salivate, albeit you tried to get a grip of yourself.

“Those people have offended me. Why don’t you kill them for me?” you asked, watching in glee as she hastily picked her sword back up and sprinted towards them. Ready to defend themselves, the slayers cursed your name as the group had apparently decided to split. You watched in interest three of them charging at you, homicidal instinct in their eyes, while the rest of them sparred with their comrade.

All the while, you had felt Douma and Kokushibo’s eyes on you, studying your moves, contemplating your choices and strategies. They had not bothered helping you out and they did not seem interested in it anyway, at least, until a disaster happened. Trusting blindly in your abilities, you had waited too long before activating your technique. The moment you did, you were forced to block the slash of a slayer with your forearm. The impact was powerful enough to cause your blood to spill, accidentally splattering on your two colleagues faces, staining their lips and inhebriating them.

Faltering, you had no time to apologize that a katana sliced through your opponent’s head. The thud of his body colliding onto the ground was followed by the screams of terror and agony of the others. Soon enough, you were surroundered by bunch of dismembered corpses, no more sounds echoing in the calm forest, if not… Heavy breaths, grunts of frustration. Affected by your technique, the upper moon One and Two were staring right into your eyes, their fangs protruding from their gums, ferally hissing to fight the primal urges of dominating the weakest prey in front of them. It was your fault. The second form of your blood demon technique was literally called ‘primal lust of the hunter’.

Taking a few impish steps back, you tried to comfort them “I promise the side effects are going to wear off in a few—”.

“How long?” Kokushibo growled, planting his sword onto the ground. You had never seen him like that.

“Kokushibo-dono, I… I—”.

A sudden grip on your forearm, yanking you towards them, made you gasp in sheer embarrassment. That look in their eyes, that way of staring you down in hunger promised nothing less than a long night of submission ahead of you.

“How long?” the Upper moon One hissed on your face, his grip on your forearm intensifying, until you confessed the truth.

“Until you reach the peak of your ecstasy” you blurted out, earning an hysterical laughter from Douma, who grasped a fistful of your hair and encircled your waist with a hand. His abs glued to your back, he rotated his hips against your rear, the clothed bulge underneath the layers he wore poking at you with unbridled hunger.

You shuddered, closing your eyes “I can help you! I can help you both!” you fretted, body on fire as their hands began to undress you with urgency.

Probably, this was the biggest mistake of your life, but the famous thing that happened once ever in a lifetime too. Lips devoured yours instantly, the guttural groan escaping Kokushibo lips made your disclose your lips automatically to let his tongue invade your mouth. Your hands threaded your the former Slayer’s hair, tugging at his ponytail to squash his body against yours. Fangs sank onto the crook of your neck, your whimper swallowed by Koksuhibo, as Douma hand slipped underneath your ripped kimono and masterly cupped your sex.

How many times had he done that to you? So many nights, so many nights but not a single one of them could compare to what he was making you feel right now. Douma always took his sweet time in tearing you apart, but his thumb did not indulge much on your throbbing clitoris.

You whined in protest, only for him to take a step back and unbuckle the belt of his pants “Sorry, Y/N-chan, but I feel… Oh, my sweet gods, I feel like I could burst into my own pants, if I don’t fuck that pretty hole of yours. Not much prep today, okay?” he rasped out, sweat running down the valley of your breasts along with the blood still dribbling down your collarbone in irregular crimson lines from his harsh bite onto your neck.

When the Upper Moon One pulled away, his hands discarding his robes onto the ground, finally granting you the celestial sight of his chiseled body, you struggled to keep your composure: the body of a warrior, the body of a divinity. The body of a man who had trained for centuries, in the desperate chase to proclaim himself the strongest slayer alive.

“Her womb is mine” he declared firmly, causing your knees to buckle, when he grasped your hips and made you straddle him easily. Douma surprisingly did not retaliate, kneeling right behind you instead as his hand slipped down between your thighs to collect some of your juices.

He growled, the pads of his fingers collecting the result of your wanton before smearing them onto the entrance of your puckered hole. You writhed, glancing at him from above your shoulder, before pulling him into a sloppy kiss “You better worship the ground I walk on after this” you whispered, only for a pathetic whimper to leave your lips as Kokushibo’s calloused band grasped your jaw unceremoniously and turned your head towards him once again.

“He’s your superior, but I personally don’t see the number one etched in his eyes” the man darkly said, pushing his hips against yours and witnessing to the way you came to realize his hakama were now loosely hanging down his hips. His cock, standing as a ramrod, was probbing at your entrance with arrogance, his free hand angling your hips to favor the penetration.

“I apologize, Kokushibo-dono. — you breathed out, arching your back as he lined the bulbous tip on you clenching hole — Douma and I are familiar with this kind of entertainment” you explained, breath hitching in your throat when the blond man at your back began to slide a finger into your backside to stretch you out a little. He was seething in anger, frustration of not having the chance to paint the welcoming walls of your pussy in white, as he always did.

The Upper Moon Two smirked “That’s right! I think Kokushibo-dono will absolutely love to hear how much of a slut you are when you are stuffed so full of cum that you twitch like a fish dying on the shore” he remarked, your eyes screwed shut as you felt your tight walls swallowing his fingers into your most private parts.

Were you going to be able to walk after this? If they actually injured you, was your demonic regeneration going to heal your wounds?

“Enough talk” Kokushibo flatly said, unsympathetically pinching your right nipple to hear you squirm under his ministrations as well.

And, gosh, you did. What made him groan out in pleasure, his stolid mask slipping, was the way your pussy squeezed him up perfectly when he entered you. Hands planted onto your hipbones, Kokushibo guided you up and down onto his length. The girth had almost made you regret your choice of taking care of their impellent needs, but the way he occasionally let the head of his cock kiss your cervix made you cry out loudly, shamelessly, your head lolling back on Douma’s shoulder as he also began to slide into you.

You had no idea how you had managed to, how your body had adapted to that tempo, to the way they were manhandly you, but when Douma had filled you up to the brim, his pelvis slapping against your arses, you knew you had showed your devotion to them.

“Fuck! I— O my God… — you whimpered out, vision blurry as tears ran down your cheeks copiously — K-Koku, Koku, I can’t” you inhaled sharply, only for him to snort at your face, a powerful thrust causing your whole body to collapse against his.

“It’s Lord Kokushibo to you”.

His words, vivid in your mind, were the only thing you remembered hearing from him after they were done with you. Panting, a mass of sweat and fluids, you were sandwitched between them. Kokushibo came deep into you, arms almost possessively keeping you in place, his gestures so cold and methodical. You wondered, you wondered if a long time ago he had been married, if he had fucked her with the only intention of impregnating her because you were damned if he had not given you that impression.

Douma was breathing heavily, tongue lapping at the umpteenth wound he had left onto your neck, as he softened into you. He had not pulled out as well, you could feel his sperm oozing out from your abused hole as you barely had the energy to nuzzle your head into Kokushibo’s chest.

He did not caress you, neither said a word, but he allowed you to rest like that for a little while. Your training had just begun.

AUTHOR NOTE.

A big thank you to the anon who had submitted this request! I said it once and I’ll say it again: writing threesomes is amusing! Also… I might have a thing for Douma, that’s pretty evident by now. Thank you for your support and see you in the next work!

Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

x o x o

Dt: @doumadono @mrskokushibo my angels✨❤️

TAGS: @axesfordays @flakeygod @tomatoeshater @areyouflying @bakugosgirl01 @crystal-freak24 @the-nex @squ4respace @akazas-left-tatted-butt-cheek @wooyugta @ilubplants @the-faceless-bride

#doma x reader #douma smut #douma x reader #douma x y/n #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #upper moons x reader #kokushibo smut #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo x y/n #kokushibo x you #michikatsu x reader #michikatsu smut

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abookloverlmao · 9 months

Text

THE GIRL IN THE SOCKS ON THE ROOF - JJ Maybank

Summary: save my life and i'll save yours, pretty boy. In the coastal paradise of Outer Banks, Y/N teeters on the edge of the rooftop in socks, drowning in despair, and there's Papa JJ appearing in her life like an angel.

"'Cause it's too cold for you here and now, so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater."

Warning: female!reader, triggering themes (mental health struggles, including references to self-harm, depression, or suicidal thoughts and acts), alcohol, drug, weed, swearing, etc., this will angsty as shit and fluffy, do not read if you don't want to! you have been warned, let me know what you think!

☆

JJ has no idea that he had saved a life.

well, he never believed such a thing, never believed that he was this special to think twice that the person he saved will do anything to pay him back.

And that person was Y/N, the girl in socks on the roof of a building, a tall one.

It was a summer night, the night of the Fourth of July, an hour away from the fireworks starting and here was the handsome blond walking out of the store with few beers and snacks with Sarah Cameron by his side.

Yelling echoed around the neighborhood, and the two blondes turned towards the sound, a man running after a very gorgeous girl in shorts, a top and some socks.

No flipflops, or sandals, just black socks, running down the streets and busy looking behind to notice JJ and Sarah standing there watching in pure confusion until she bumped at him.

"YOU DIRTY LITTLE BITCH COME BACK HERE!" The man yelled and Y/N picked up the bags of snacks he held, apologizing and handing them to him in panic.

Eyes wide with tears covering them, wild hair like she was electrocuted, chest going up and down rapidly, she met Sarah's eyes and shot her the most heartbreaking smile.

"I am so sorry," she turned to JJ, meeting his pretty eyes that watched hers in concern, god she was beautiful, he has never seen someone this gorgeous even in the state of panic.

Before he could even open his mouth to respond, she continued running, she was very fast, legs moving in a speed of light, everytime her feet landed on the ground, pain rushed through her veins.

Adrenaline pumping, the summer night breeze slapping her cheeks left and right, she could feel Sarah Cameron's eyes on hers and the handsome boy whom she bumped into.

As they climbed the Twinkie, JJ's mind not once left the girl who disappeared five minutes ago, he knew who she was, well... he saw her in a few parties, standing there with a drink in hand talking to one pogue mostly.

"I feel like I saw her before," he whispered turning to Sarah who watched in slight worry as the man ran past them with so much hatred in his eyes, a murderous look that scared her.

"That's Y/N, sweetest Kook with apparently a rough life," she replied wincing as another curse left Mister L/N's lips, a frown on her face, JJ's hand was on the steering wheel, feeling a sudden protectiveness towards the girl who bumped into him.

It looked like she had a rough life, especially when she was running in only socks with a man chasing behind her, his eyebrows almost touched and he watched the man in disgust.

He reminded him of his dad... but oh he didn't know that he was basically his dad's twin brother.

"God I hope she doesn't get caught by Mister L/N," she whispered in worry, guilt eating her alive and once JJ started to drive, he looked around in hope to find her.

Nothing.

"It's the fourth of July..." spoke Sarah again, and his mind went back to Y/N's eyes... brimmed with tears reminded him so much of his, he really wanted to know the reason why she was in that state.

And the second time he saw her was on the roof of a building, John B has sent him again to buy fireworks to light on the beach, but then something caught his eyes.

Someone.

The moonlight shone down on her, black shorts, white top, hair flying everywhere thanks to the wind, black socks, she stood on the edge of the roof staring ahead, the moonlight kissing her skin and making hear tear glisten like diamonds, what the fuck.

Without thinking twice, he sprinted up the stairs, ignoring that it was a building with people living in it, rich people that would knsult him idf they saw him in, he raced up the stairs, boots clapping against the ground as he grabbed the railing for support trying not to trip

He never ran so fast, worry ate him alive as he ran in the speed of light.

Opening the door to the roof with all his force he rushed to the girl just as her feet lifted and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back to his chest.

She gasped in surprise, her tear-streaked face turning towards him. For a moment, time stood still as their eyes locked. JJ could feel the rapid thumping of her heart against his chest, matching the adrenaline rushing through his own veins.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of concern and relief, he turned her around and watched as she looked into his eyes, body shaking with a combination of fear and exhaustion.

"You don't have to do this. You're not alone."

She studier him with glossy eyes, watched as he pushed away her hair from her wet cheeks and cupped her cheeks as if he knew her for years.

At his words she collapsed in his arms, clinging to him tightly, as if holding on for dear life, he wrapped his arms around her as tightly and ran his hand down her hair.

He wasn't used to giving hugs, felt awkward when someone gave him one ir he did, but he hugged her, the weight of her struggles and pain was palpable, and in that moment, JJ understood that there was so much more to her story than what he had glimpsed before.

"Grab my hand," she did as told, hand trembling as he gently guided her away from the edge, leading her to a safer spot on the rooftop.

She slipped down the wall, wrapping her arms around herself tightly ss the breeze got rough, then JJ sat beside her, forgetting his task and what he was supposed to buy.

They sat down together, the distant sounds of fireworks starting to fill the night sky, but not the Outer Banks yet, in 10 minutes, JJ's heart raced as he tried to find the right words to say, wanting to offer comfort and support to this girl he barely knew.

He turned to her, taking off his red hat and ruffling his blond hair, "sup, I'm JJ," he finally said, his voice soft but steady and she chuckled at his words, "And you...you don't have to face this alone. Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude, she sniffled, wiping away the tears that continued to stream down her cheeks.

"Sup, I'm Y/N..." she whispered, her voice barely audible as she pulled her knees closer to her body, staying silent for a minute gnawing at her lower lip, she spoke again, "Thank you, for saving my life and...being there when no one else was."

JJ's heart ached at her words. He couldn't fathom how someone as beautiful and kind-hearted as Y/N could feel so alone and unloved.

He pulled out the lighter and played with it for a few seconds, "I don't know what you've been through, but I want you to know that Papa J, is here for you, no matter what. You deserve to be surrounded by people who care about you."

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears once again, but this time they were tears of relief mixed with a glimmer of hope. She had never expected a chance encounter with JJ to lead to this moment of genuine connection and understanding.

But she blinked away the tears and smiled at him brightly, sitting by his side, her shoulder pressed to his as they stared ahead, "I'll make sure to keep that in mind, Thank you, Papa J," a smile that showed his dimples appeared and she felt herself go warm.

"You know what will make you feel better?" He suddenly spoke standing up and slapping his butt to get rid of the dirt, she looked up at him in confusion, wondering what will make her feel better.

"What?"

JJ smiled down at her brightly like a Cheshire cat, "light some fireworks on the beach, smoke weed, drink beers," he suggested putting his hand in front if her to take.

She stared at his hands for a hot second, glancing at the edge of the roof that she almost fell from and then back at him, she never drank alcohol or even had a puff of smoke, breaking the rules sounded like a good idea at the moment.

"why not." She put her hand on top of his watching him hold it carefully, gently, his rings cold and sending a shiver down her spine.

He lifted her and glanced down at the socks, "damn don't your feet hurt?" She laughed softly and followed his eyes down, "they are hurting now, like a bitch." He nodded in response and they walked towards the stairs, hand still in hers.

Her eyes went back to the edge of the roof again, but JJ blocked her path and pushed the door for her, "after you, be careful not to slip, I almost did with my damn boots." She rolled her eyes but grinned at him.

"You're the clumsy one." She replied making him roll his eyes and gasp dramatically, pretending to faint while doing so, it made her laugh.

She had a gorgeous laugh, contagious that it made him laugh as well, he wondered why a girl like her would even think of trying to leave this world.

He wanted to ask, but no. This wasn't the right moment.

☆☆☆

He handed her his scandals (which led to her saying that his feet were bigger than her face) and called John B to apologize and explain what happened while she was looking for slushy flavors.

Then they went to the beach, watched the fireworks, drank beers, and shared weed, one after the other, placing her lips right where his were, he taught her basic surf tricks, and he did everything to make her forget about the troubles filling her mind.

And it worked.

They laughed, and they talked for hours, sharing stories, dreams, and even their deepest fears, water was reaching her thighs as she watched the colorful explosions in the night sky.

She was high and watching the sky have multicolor stars with so much awe, her eyes glossy and her hand waving underwater, and JJ admired.

Every single feature, the way she watched the fireworks and stood by his side, hair wild and crazy, speaking her mind in a way he never thought anyone would do so, wearing only her bikini top and shorts.

How can a person high till cloud 9 speak like that? He thought, "I mean, that's the thing, Lana Del Rey once said..." She put her finger up, swallowing, "Live fast, die young, be wild, and have fun. That’s my motto, but my dad did everything to not give me my freedom, everything, and believe it or not this is the first time I felt happy."

JJ knew what it was like, it was the same for him, his dad was a fucking asshole and everyone knew it, they all blamed that man's crime on him, and he hated that she had the same problems.

"I think we need to get out, you're way too high baby," he spoke with a laugh grabbing her waist and starting to make his way out of the water.

"oh come on I'm trying to be emotional here! Wait- did you just call me baby?" she asked grabbing his wrist, slurring over her words.

JJ chuckled, his heart warming at Y/N's playful reaction. He had been so caught up in the moment that he had let slip a term of endearment without even realizing it.

But now, with her intoxicated state bringing out her candidness, he found himself unable to hide his smile.

"Yeah, I did call you baby," he replied, his voice teasing, "It just slipped out. But you know what? I think it suits you."

Y/N's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing her face. "Oh really? And why is that?" he couldn't respond instead raised his eyebrow at her, showing his cute dimples that made her smile even more brightly.

"I will not tell you." and next thing he knew she pulled him deeper in the water and pulled him along, pushing him with her in, his hand wrapped around her waist to not lose her and water surrounded them.

them swimming around one another, the light coming from the moon and fireworks the only thing brightening their surroundings, all euphoric. As their eyes locked underwater, JJ felt a surge of anticipation, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them suspended in the watery depths.

They swam closer and closer, her hair moving around her like a mermaid, he watched as the multicolor lights flashing kissed her skin, eyes twinkling like pearls.

As they swam closer, their bodies gracefully gliding through the liquid medium, time seemed to slow down. Every movement, every touch, was heightened by the magical atmosphere surrounding them. The water embraced them, caressing their skin and amplifying the intensity of their connection.

Y/N has never seen such a beautiful person like JJ, his blonde hair shimmered like strands of liquid gold, framing his face in a way that accentuated his angelic features, ocean eyes watching her in a way no one did, it made her blood run hot even underwater, his muscles twitching as he moved.

God, he was beautiful....

He was angel. That's it, he was an angel sent from heaven to save her from the roof and make her life worth living for.

Their faces drew closer, the space between them narrowing with each passing second, but just as her lips were about to brush against his, doubt crept into JJ's mind.

He hesitated, like he always did, his thoughts momentarily overpowering the weird feelings he felt in that moment. He withdrew slightly, his hand releasing its grip on her waist.

His wide eyes met hers, and for a moment, the silence between them was deafening, she hesitated as well, confused as to why he did in the first place, but never going to question it.

Maybe he didn't feel comfortable, she thought, JJ's mind raced, questioning the wisdom of his decision, too risky, she's high and probably won't remember by tomorrow- JJ calm the fuck down.

He hated himself for hesitating but he had no choice, she grabbed his shirt and swam back up with him to the surface, JJ followed, cursing himself for letting his doubts cloud the moment, for allowing fear to guide his actions.

But deep down, he knew he couldn't ignore the nagging thoughts that had caused him to retreat.

Y/N, for her part, seemed to accept the situation without questioning it. Her silence spoke volumes, leaving JJ with a mix of relief and regret, as they resurfaced, the world above the water greeted them with its own set of distractions.

The sounds of laughter and music filled the air, the festivities of the night continuing as if nothing had happened below the surface. Y/N's wide eyes met his again, searching for answers that he couldn't provide.

JJ gave her a weak smile and her, perceptive as ever, returned his smile with a gentle nod, and just before she started to swim back to land, he spoke with a high pitched voice to not make her go.

"me and my friend want to become Kooks, looking for gold, anything that will make us rich, when this world will become gentle with us, I'm gonna get a new board. I'm gonna deck it out, and I'm gonna go on a surf trip. Ride, whatever the waves take you, you know?" he said watching her stop and turn back around.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she listened to his plans, his determination shining through despite the uncertainties of their current moment.

Dreams do save lives after all.

"Do you have your passport, pretty boy?" she asked with a laugh at his determination, it made his hammering heart slow down, and relief wash over him as he thought she was mad at him at first.

"Hell no, I don't got a passport, Kookiest thing ever." he replied making her laugh even harder, throwing her head back and staring at the sky, her laughter echoing through the water and bringing a sense of lightheartedness to their conversation.

“You definitely should do that, that’s a real dream, surf trip, I believe in you,” she said with a chuckle, starting to swim towards the rock where they kept their stuff hidden just in case someone might steal them, gesturing him to come along.

“you’re saying that like I will do it alone,” he said lifting himself up and out of the water, wrapping the towel he had in the Twinkie around her and grabbing his stuff, “well you will do it with your friends, not alone,” she replied wrapping the towel tighter around her, putting on her sandals.

JJ grabbed their stuff and walked out of the rock, offering his hand so she wouldn’t slip, “and you,” he replied making her smile and glance back at him, "me? So I'm a Pogue now?" she asked teasingly ruffling her hair with the towel.

"Well, I am your friend, you like adventure, saving animals and the sea, you don't hate us, I think you are born a Pogue, besides we could really use your help to become rich," he said shrugging while opening the door to the van.

washing her feet to get rid of the sand she climbed in the passenger seat, towel still tight around her, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Well, if being a Pogue means embarking on thrilling escapades with you and running from cops, count me in," she said, her voice filled with excitement.

"deal."

and she did become one, helped them find the gold by stealing maps from her father's office, and became a sister to almost everyone, Kiara didn't trust her which was fine, but she didn't hate her either.

Besides she understood what it was like, JJ had stayed by her side for the rest of the time, she was on his, she saved him in many ways, the jacuzzi night, she held him, they ran from cops, she stole for him, for them, got in trouble as well and she was loyal.

That way she cried with him that night when she found out what Luke did to him was the same thing her father did to her, cried with him, and held him at the same time, they were both broken after all.

The night she tried to end her life was the night she met JJ Maybank and he saved her in every way a person can be saved, she stayed the night in John B's house, on the couch, her head to JJ's.

everyone was already asleep, both of them damp after their night swim.

"I see you," he suddenly whispered, the light buzzing from god knows where filling the silence along with the crickets, for a second he thought she had fallen asleep since no answer came from her, "and?" she asked a hot minute, tilting her to the side.

His scent filled her nostrils and made her tensed shoulders relax instantly, "you wouldn't have jumped." he replied staring at the ceiling, his blonde hair falling over his eyes.

JJ's whispered words hung in the air, the weight of their meaning sinking in. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she processed his statement, his words cut through the darkness, reaching deep into her soul, and touching upon a truth that she had kept hidden for so long.

"God knows what would've happened if you weren't there," she whispered staring at the ceiling with tears blurring her vision, she played with the shell charm of his bracelet.

"but I'm glad it was you," her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard it, and when he spoke his voice was as soft as a feather, "I'm glad too," he had said and then she felt her blood run hot, cheeks turning rosy.

and with that, they both fell asleep, her finger hooked around his bracelet and his finger drew patterns, their faces so close at the edge of the couch, her head to the right and his to the left, noses almost bumping.

Their breaths synchronized, her scent mixing with his creating the most intoxicating perfume that ever existed, peace washing over them as they slept close to one another, safe from any trouble.

☆☆☆

They fell in love, and they hesitated to tell one another, like the night they hesitated to kiss, there was a palpable tension that's for sure, even the blind could sense it.

But the day she realized that one day she will stop hesitating was in the boat when he fell off it.

"Clear."

He whispered and Y/N walked away with JJ following behind her, a man suddenly appeared in front of her making her call out for the pretty blonde, "JJ..." "of course, there's more of you..." he said pulling out a machete, "get down on your knees," he ordered and JJ grabbed the girl by the waist pulling her back as soon as the man stepped towards her. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen." with that, he charged at the girl who ducked immediately, JJ punched the man and pinned his arm, and Y/N kicked him right in the crotch before with the door to the emergency power locker supply.

Y/N ran towards the railing calling out for the Routledge boy, "JOHN B!" she yelled not even noticing the man approaching her from behind, JJ's eyes widened in horror as he called out for the girl.

"Y/N!" she turned around, eyes on the weapon that went flying towards her, she moved away but it sliced her arm making her wince in pain, "Y/N!" he called again in worry.

Eberhimi lifted his machete and JJ caught his wrist, grabbing him from behind, and elbowing the younger boy in the stomach, he swung at Y/N who caught his wrist and grabbed her collar, her head went to the side and the end of the weapon went right to JJ.

Her eyes widened in terror as JJ fell off the boat into the water, she bit Eberhimi's wrist before grabbing the hand that held the machete, twisting it, and she slammed his head against the glass before the wall.

And with that, he fell to the ground unconscious, Y/N ran towards the edge and called out for JJ whose face was on the water, "JJ!" she called loud enough for Outer Banks to hear.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the boy, she climbed the edge and her demons immediately consumed her, panic gripped her as memories of her own pain and struggles flooded her mind, the night she was standing on the edge.

the same feeling she felt during the fourth of July threatening to overwhelm her, she didn't do it, yet here she is standing on the edge once again.

But she knew she couldn't let fear paralyze her. She had to act. She will step off the edge, god she hoped the water wouldn't turn to solid rocks and kill her immediately, as a payback for not doing it that night

Either you face it or JJ dies. she thought.

With her heart pounding and her mind filled with a mixture of terror and determination, Y/N took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly before stepping off the edge.

The air rushed past her, and for a split second, she felt weightless, suspended between the fear of the unknown and the hope for a different outcome.

As she descended towards the water, her mind raced with thoughts of what awaited her below. Would the water be a lifeline, cradling her safely in its embrace? Or would it become a cruel reminder, punishing her for the choice she didn't make before?

It was too deep, way too deep, she wasn't that good at swimming either, her feet touched the sand for fuck's sake that night because she was scared!

"JJ!" she screamed swimming towards him, turning the boy around she wrapped her arm around his waist, trying to keep them both afloat.

Her heart was racing as she struggled to keep her head above water, tried to fight her own demons that gripped her hair, feet, and everywhere and pulled her, "Please wake up JJ," she pleaded, her voice choked with tears and water that started filling her lungs, "I need you." she begged.

"JJ, stay with me." she called pushing his pretty blonde hair out of his face as she slapped his cheek gently, "J, please. Please!" she exclaimed louder this time.

Y/N's arms were growing tired, and she was struggling to keep JJ's head above water, his entire body leaned against hers desperately.

She could feel herself slowly drowning, but she refused to let go of him. Kicking and trashing around, moving her legs in fast motions, looked nothing like swimming, but kept her head a little above. She moved her legs around at a rapid speed to keep them both afloat, her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was gasping for air, her eyes burning from the salty water.

"Hang on, JJ," she said, her voice shaking. "We'll make it through this together." Despite her fear and exhaustion, Y/N continued to fight, determined not to let JJ go.

she leaned her head against his, his entire head leaning on her shoulder, "John B's coming, John B's coming." she whispered hoping he could hear her, mostly to herself, so she doesn't give up and let her demons take her.

The world really was against her huh?

Y/N was growing weaker by the second, her arms and legs were aching, and she could feel her muscles going numb.

She slowly leaned back, her eyes growing heavy as she struggled to stay conscious, "JJ," she called his name a thousand times, her voice barely above a whisper, "Stay with me, please."

Y/N knew she was fighting a losing battle, she did everything she could to stay awake and not let the water take her.

She squeezed him tightly, feeling his body grow heavier in her arms, despite the pain and exhaustion trying to take over, and dominate, she stayed awake until help arrived.

until John B. arrived.

"JOHN B! HELP!"

Y/N's lungs were burning, and she could feel the water going into her mouth as she called out for help.

"Help!" she shouted, her voice hoarse, "Please, John B help us!" she could feel herself slipping away, her body growing numb as the water enveloped her.

She coughed and sputtered, the taste of salt water filling her mouth, but even as she struggled to breathe, she refused to let go of JJ.

She held him tightly, her arm wrapped around him so tightly, doing everything she could to keep him above water, even pushing him slightly above her even if it resulted in her being underwater.

"Hang on, JJ," she said, her voice shaking, "Just a little longer. John B is coming." Despite the overwhelming odds against her, Y/N continued to fight, her legs moving rapidly as if she never swam in her entire life, determined to stay alive for JJ's sake.

Y/N sobbed against JJ's neck, her tears mixing with the salt water, "I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling from the cold and fear, "I'm sorry. I should've been hit."

She felt guilty and responsible for JJ's injuries, and the weight of it was unbearable.

The water felt like it had hands, pulling her down and dragging her away from JJ. But she clung to him, her grip growing tighter as she fought against the current.

Soon enough, John B appeared and the pogues called out for their friend, "NO! No! No!" exclaimed John B stopping the boat and reaching for his best friend, his brother, and his family.

Y/N couldn't hear her friends calling out for her. She was lost in her own world, struggling to keep her head above water.

As soon as she felt JJ's weight slip away from her, safe and in the arms of her best friend, she let the water take her.

She felt herself sinking deeper and deeper, the darkness closing in all around her.

It wasn't until she felt the strong hands of Sarah, John B, Pope, and Kiara grabbing her and lifting her from under the water that she opened her eyes, gasping for air.

She clung to them tightly, using their strength to lift herself up and out of the water. She was shaking and disoriented, but she was alive.

"Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you for saving me." with that, she looked around for JJ, and her heart sank to her stomach when she saw him lying motionless in the lifeboat.

She crawled towards him, her hands shaking as she reached out to slap his cheek, "Wake up, JJ," she pleaded, her voice choked with emotion.

"Please, wake up!" But JJ remained still, and Y/N felt a sense of panic rising in her chest, no, he can't die.

she knew that she had to do something to help him, so she began slapping his chest, trying to get the water out of his lungs, her friends surrounded her with worry and fear rushing through their veins.

Only Y/N calling and begging him to wake up boomed around them. "Come on, JJ, you can do this. Get up!" she said, her voice quivering badly, she was always a tough person with no fear in her eyes, and now they could see the pure anger and worry in them.

"Don't leave me like this." Y/N continued to work on JJ, refusing to give up even as her arms were limp and her eyes were blurry.

JJ suddenly sat up, coughing and spluttering, water coming out of his mouth.

He looked around, disoriented, and saw John B smiling down at him, "Welcome to the land of the living, dude," John B said, his voice filled with relief. "No CPR needed, huh?"

He didn't respond, instead, his eyes landed on Y/N's hand on his chest, and then on her tear-streaked face.

He sat up, feeling the weight of what had just happened hit him, his tensed muscles dropped at the sight of her like this, "Hi," she greeted, her voice hoarse and filled with relief.

"'sup?" he added teasingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Everyone laughed, and Y/N smacked him before pulling his head towards her chest and hugging him tightly.

She cried silently and kissed his forehead repeatedly, whispering, "Oh, darling, oh JJ, I thought I lost you."

JJ hugged her back, burying his head in the crook of her neck, "I'm here," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." He held her tightly, feeling her warmth and her love envelop him.

For a moment, everything else faded away, and all that mattered was Y/N and JJ, together and alive, that was also the day they both realized they were really in love.

"What the hell happened?" JJ asked, reaching to touch his wound, but Y/N slapped his hand away, replacing it with a piece of fabric.

"The blunt end of a machete," replied Cleo, her voice filled with concern, "Machete?" JJ asked a hint of pride in his voice, "The blunt end. Next time, duck," Y/N said, nodding at Cleo before turning to glare at JJ.

JJ chuckled, wincing slightly at the pain in his side. "I'll try to remember that next time," he said, his voice laced with humor, "Thanks for the save, Y/N."

Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "You saved me, I save you," she said, her eyes softening as she looked at JJ, "I couldn't let anything happen to your dumbass."

JJ smirked, but then he suddenly fainted dramatically, his body falling back onto the boat.

Y/N gasped and rushed to his side, checking his wounds, "JJ, JJ, are you okay?" she asked, her voice full of worry, suddenly, JJ's eyes snapped open, and he grinned up at her. "Gotcha," he said, laughing.

Y/N rolled her eyes in vexation, but she couldn't help but smile, "You're such a drama queen," she said, shaking her head in amusement.

JJ sat up, wincing slightly at the pain in his side, "What can I say?" he said, his voice filled with humor. "I like to keep you on your toes." she looked at JJ in pure annoyance, raising an eyebrow, "I can throw you back, you know," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

JJ grinned, knowing full well that she would never actually do it. "You won't," he said, his voice teasing.

But then Y/N gave him a glare that made him wince. "You won't, right?" he asked, suddenly unsure, "if you annoy me, then I will."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A/N: this might be one of the most beautiful things I've written along with Fairytale, my Kaz Brekker book which you can check out on Wattpad, my account is: KazBrekker090!

I am in love with JJ, that is it, took a while for me to finish this so please do comment what you think and whether I should write a Part 2 where they kiss? Request anything you wish by the way! and thank you!

Like and comment pls!

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