John B Outer Banks - Tumblr Posts

lene we need some 80s slasher JB!!!

ohh shure! he gives creepy summer camp counselor vibes - 80s!slasher!john b

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, blood, violence, death, threats, slapping, spitting, obsessed!john b - ₊˚⊹

you'd gotten the most perfect job for the summer as a camp counselor at a sleep-away summer camp. after meeting everyone at the orientation you've become close to another counselor who will be working with you, john b. 

he was in charge of the boy's cabin and you the girls, and your groups would meet up for activities, bonfires, smores, and lunch. he'd honestly grown really attached to you since you were always doing things together, whenever he'd see you chatting with another guy he'd feel possessive and you weren't even dating! yet john b would also embarrassingly get hard watching you slide down your shorts, staring at how tight your bikini bottoms fit around your ass. he'd spend that night in his cabin jerking off, picturing your pretty body bouncing on top of him, wishing he could grab fistfuls of your ass. he'd finish in his fist all sweaty and out of breath. 

you sat at your group's table in the mess hall facing john b's table, both of you making eye contact every few seconds. 

when the dessert was ready, each table was called to go pick up their plate of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream. john b's eyes followed your figure as you walked up to the counter, waiting until all the little girls got their slices. one of the guys that was working inside the kitchen, clearly flirting with you, asks if you want some. you decline with a smile but the young man insists, saying he made it himself, he lifts up the fork with a piece of the warm pie and dripping ice cream to your lips. you indulge him by opening your mouth and closing it around the fork, swallowing the desert you widen your eyes and nod. "it's really good!" you smile, the guy's hand reaching out to swipe the little bit of ice cream that stayed on the edge of your lip. 

watching this, john b was furious, letting that fucking feed you, touch your lips....

that night, the little girls knock on your cabin door, right next to theirs. they complain that they heard someone scream coming from the mess hall and are too scared to sleep. you tell them it's probably nothing and to go back to sleep, that you'll check it out.

the girls do as they're told and you walk over to the mess hall and walk inside the dark space to see what could have been the noise, hearing some sort of noise coming from inside the kitchen you figure it could be an animal that got inside, you press your ear to the swinging door honestly too scared to actually look inside. 

the door then swings open, causing you to stumble back and meet eyes with john b, with blood on his shirt, hands, and on the knife in his hands. you stand there confused...'did he cut himself?' you think, then you see it, through the open door is the pie guy dead on the floor with his blood pooling around his body. john b's hand is quick to cover your mouth before you can scream, "shshsh, you don't need to do that bub, you're fine." he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you. 

you nod your head slowly, chest heaving. 

"i'm gonna let go now okay? need you to be quite f'me, can you do that?" he raises his eyebrows and you nod again, he takes his hand off our mouth. "m'gonna need to take your clothes off...got blood on them..." he tells you rather than asks you, he raises the knife and cuts your top up the middle. 

"john b? what's going on..." you whisper, clearly scared. 

"i can't wait anymore, you drive me crazy, i need to do this." he rambles while tugging off your shorts rather roughly. 

"john b did you stab the kitchen b-" he cuts you off with a rough kiss to keep you quiet. he manhandles you over one of the tables and lifts you on top, facing him. 

you whine as he brings the knife up to your face. 

"don't scream, don't want to whole camp to hear you, n'i don't want to hurt you pup"

you nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as he cuts your panties to get access to your hot messy pussy. 

"awww she's so pretty..." he coos, his big rough fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you mewl. 

"jombee...i don't wanna...you killed someone!" you shake your head, almost hyperventilating crying. 

"hey, nuh uh, stop that." he pats your face to get you to listen to him. you watch as he pulls off his bloody shirt and unzips his shorts and pulls himself out, your eyes widening at the size. "he's not the only one i killed." he looks back into your eyes and you swear your heartbeat sped up and so did the pulsing of your cunt. 

"you're a murderer johnbee," you whisper but then gasp when you feel him start to push in, stretching your pussy. 

"i know, m'really mean, huh puppy?" he pouts mockingly and pinches one of your nipples making you squeal. 

"don't like being mean to you, but when you walk around acting like an angel, when i know you're a little tease...kinda have'ta put you in your place," he grunts, pounding into hard now, you can see the little bulge in your tummy. 

"i wasn't! i didn't mean to be! i didn't do anything!" you sob, one hand grabbing onto the table and the other hand gripping his bicep. blood sorta covering both of you from where he had touched you, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look at him. 

"wish you could be my good girl right now n'just take. it." he thrusts harder with his last two words. you wish you could scream at how scared you are of him but also at how good it feels. 

"open." he grunts, squeezing your jaw a little. you shake your head no as best you can, causing him to let go of your jaw and slap you, making your drooly cunt clench around him. "m'not asking again." he grabs your jaw again, and you open your mouth, and he spits into it making you whine in disgust. "swallow." you do as your told and swallow tears continuing to fall. 

"that's how a dumb little doggy gets treated, they get spit on." he grins and pulls out of you, manhandles you off the table, and bends you over, tits and face pressed against the wood. 

"nooo...no.." you drool onto the table. 

he bends down a bit to be right in front of your ass and spits on your other tight little hole, watching as his spit drips down to your pussy. you squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling and sob a little louder. 

he stands up straight again and reaches around to pat your sloppy little cunt now covered in his spit, and slides his cock back in. 

"s-so gross..." you mewl, making him laugh quietly, bringing the back of his bloody hand up to your face. 

"cum around me or i'll smear this on your face, you want that? hmm? some guy's blood on your face?" he threatens. "c'mon..." he bends down to press icky wet kisses to your cheek that instantly make you cum on on him, pulsing and squeezing him as your mind goes dumb. his big hand covering your mouth as you moan.

"there she is, good girl...yeaaah" he praises, thrusting into you more sloppily until he's pumping you full, flooding your poor little pussy. 

after a few seconds, he pulls out and uses his tip to smear yours and his cum around your pussy lips. 

"here." he hands you his bloody shirt for you to put on knowing it'll cover you enough to get back to your cabin decent, you pull his shirt over your head and make sure it covers your ass.

"we'll talk more tomorrow, okay sweetie? gotta go...clean that up." he tilts his head toward the body. "goodnight kiss?" he bits his lip, squinting his eyes, taunting you. you stand there lifting your head, he leans down to give you one last kiss on your lips, a string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away.  ᥫ᭡

thinking about raising your voice at johnb and he's putting you in your place...🤐🤐🤐

yessss yummmm omgggg!!!! ᥫ᭡ᥫ᭡ᥫ᭡ warnings!! (pa!nal, orgasm denial, spitting, gagging, threats of spanking!!) ignore any misspellings lol sorry!! 🧁

when your boyfriend decides to punish you for stepping out of line he intends to see it through, most times he’s quite gentle about it, and other times he can be reaaally mean which basically means that he doesn’t give in to your whining and pouting. sure you were most likely just stressed or overwhelmed but in his eyes, that's no excuse for lashing out at him especially when you and john b had been working on using your words or expressing yourself through gentle physical gestures like hand holding, hugs, lap sitting, thigh humping…

this time around you had raised your voice at him during a seemingly normal conversation about what to eat for dinner which then somehow evolved into an argument about you being a little too friendly towards the guys you were attending to at your job.

“i hear what you're saying baby, but i hope you can see how i interpret it when those assholes put their hands on you or-or when you smile at them n’ lead em’ on.”

“no, you’re the asshole!! i’m was not leading them on i was just doing my job…but i can’t do my job if you come rushing in like some prince charming, i don’t need you to do that!”

“doing your job and flirting are two different things bub.” your boyfriend raises his eyebrows almost like he’s warning you to choose your next words wisely. completely disregarding the warning, you fire back at him.

“you could have gotten me fired! i hate you!” you shout, walking away from him and heading for the bedroom to slam the door. he knows you don't really mean it when you use those words with him but how else will you learn that speaking to him that way is just so disrespectful! not when he does everything to make sure you are happy, safe, healthy, and dicked down when you 'neeeeeded' it!

“no hey! take that back!” he growls, grabbing onto your wrist tightly to keep you from storming away further. when john b doesn’t get the answer he was expecting he decides enough is enough and picks you up n' throws you over his shoulder to take you into his room. “fine, you wanna be a brat? be a brat.”

next thing you know, your boyfriend's got your panties pulled down and he’s pushing his cock into your tight little ass without any prep. you gasp as he’s sitting you on it, “no! no more! m’sorry! i don’t wanna!” you cry and protest the punishment, digging your nails into the arm that is keeping your back pressed against his chest, sitting on his bed, split on his monster dick.

“mmm nmm, don’t wanna hear it now.” john b huffs from behind you, his cheek pressed against the side of your head. he brings his other hand down to play with your clit and give your pussy little slaps.

“said- i was sorry!” you whine, your cunt clenching around nothing.

“nope, lost your privilege to speak a while ago…” he brings his bandana up to your mouth and gags you with it, and you know better than to try and spit it out.

“such a spoiled princess, go on bubba, cry on my fingers.” he coos, now starting to finger open your sopping wet pussy with two of his insanely thick fingers. tears stream down your face, drooling and whining into his bandana in your mouth.

“so spoiled,” he groans, trying his hardest not to thrust up into your tight hole as he’s fingering you. the warmth of his body envelops you, his strength and size overwhelm you with emotions. just being close to him like this makes you want to take back every mean thing you’ve ever said to him no matter how justified.

"thaaaat's it, baby," he whispers when he hears how embarrassingly loud the sounds of wetness your cunt makes with each in-and-out motion of his fingers. “you hate me?” he asks knowing full well you couldn’t answer back with words.

“mmmph!” you shake your head and whine, gripping his big arms, nails digging into his skin. his fingers curl inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over and all you can do is sit with his cock in your ass and take it, drooling on the fabric in your mouth.

“yeaaah i know, we don’t talk to daddy like that do we?” he coos again this time a little more condescendingly, pressing wet kisses to your cheek repeatedly. you shake your head ‘no’ and continue to chase your orgasm on his fingers. and just about when you are about to cream all over his fingers from how hard the rough pads of his fingers are rubbing your clit, he slips his fingers out of your aching pussy and stops rubbing your clit.

“mmmph!” you cry as loud as you can into the gag.

“s’a punishment bubba, can’t let ya cum.” he sighs and presses a few more kisses to your cheek. he doesn't exactly enjoy denying you in any way but he had to stick to being 'mean boyfriend' to teach you this lesson. finally, he takes the bandana out of your mouth, revealing a string of drool connecting the cloth to your lips.

“you ever talk to me like that again n’ i’ll stuff a dildo in your ass and give you a good hard spankin’ you understand me?” he whispers and grabs your face with his big hand squeezing lightly “answer me please baby…”

“i understand…” you croak out quietly, brows furrowing at the throb of your puffy cunt and the stretch of his dick still inside your tighter hole.

“gooood girl, so proud of you,” john b switches back to being a little nicer to you and brings that hand from your face to your waist, holding you gently. “wanna get up now? no- okay that’s fine, we can just stay here for a sec.” ᥫ᭡ᥫ᭡

i love this account. like yes we need more john b love in this world 🙂‍↕️🤭

🌸💗💘💞🥹💕💞☮️🐥 thank youuuuu!!! oh my goodness!!!

john b loverrrrssss are welcome here ofcccc i just wanna smother him with kisses and do nastyyyy things with him you have no idea!!

thinking ab john b with a sleepy girlfriend....😇😇

yesss omigod!! 🧸💞 let him set a bedtime for you n everything!! (ignore any spelling mistakes sorryyy lol!!)

the pogues had thrown jj a little stupid “luau” birthday party over at the boneyard, and a bunch of people ended up showing up, a night of drinking, sticky s’mores, and messin’ around. even after the sun had set, the partying hadn’t ended, at some point, you’re seated on john b’s lap to keep you from wandering around with people you don’t know. you do this often, situating yourself in his arms and waiting until he’s done with his conversations- really to give you attention. and of course, you are included in the conversations and are normally pretty well-behaved! but with the hour boarding at 10:00 at night it's known that around this time you get frisky and impatient.

usually, you’d be in bed by now, or getting pounded into the mattress by your boyfriend, so it only makes sense that you’d be a little tired and needy. your head lolls into the crook of his neck, eyes beginning to droop closed. and john b takes immediate notice, his hand coming up to pull your top up from any more cleavage or “helping his baby out” as he puts it. your frosty white nails scratching softly skin on his arm, the arm holding you tightly against him.

“can’t believe i’m still up this late…” you whisper, knowing he’d hear you

“neither can i, you're usually passed out by this time.” he coos and presses a kiss to your temple, bouncing you on his leg a bit

you smile at his words, your sleepy brain responding with what you would hope to convince him that you're still awake, aka still responsive enough for sex… “m’ still awake though, s’such a nice party.” yeah? you're slurring a little honey…” he hums,

at some point he can tell you’re starting to get antsy, wiggling so that your cunt could get some sort of friction against his thigh and that’s when he decides it's time to get you home. and as soon as your makeup is off and teeth are brushed he’s carrying you over his shoulder into his room. john b helping you peel off your skirt and lifting your pretty top over your head, knowing that you needed to be absolutely naked at this very moment.

“can we have sex now?” you whisper, big wide puppy eyes staring up at your boyfriend.

“sorry baby but no can do. past your bedtime.” he winces, giving your ass a light pat to get you on the bed.

“whatever happened to birthday sex!?” you pout, climbing onto the messy sheets of the bed, patting the spot next to you so that your boyfriend could get the hint.

“it’s jj’s birthday, not ours.” he laughs and shakes his head, pulling his t-shirt over his head revealing to you his pretty v line and happy trail. your eyes drift downwards waiting for him to strip off his pants next. “well that’s gotta count,” you shrug, laying your head back against your pillow.

“hate to break it to ya bubba but it doesn’t.”

“please!!! i’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life!!” you whine and climb on top of him once he lays down beside you in nothing but boxers.

“okay well, that's a little dramatic…”

“please please please pretty please johnbee!” you grind your now slippery wet cunt on his bulge, making the fabric of his boxers wet with an obvious little spot.

“you sure? it’s- 10:43…you need your beauty rest right?” he tries to soothe your aching by pressing your body down onto him, his big rough hands squeezing the doughy flesh of your ass as gently as he can. “no, wanna make you feel good.” you shake your head and bring your lips over to the side of his neck to give him a bunch of kisses. its is so beyond easy to get him to give in on something like this!!

and the next thing you know you are on top of him, cowgirl style as he helps you bounce on his cock by lifting you up and down by your ribs, his thumbs brushing over your hard nipples every now and then to give you a shockwave of pleasure. “big- big- so bi- johnnyyyy” you could almost drool at how massive he feels inside you, no matter how many times you fuck, you could never full be used to the size of your boyfriend's huge dick. he can tell by the way you can’t make full sentences that you're starting to get cockdrunk and on top of that….sleepy.

“you getting sleepy now bub?” john b hums, flicking your nipples with his thumb a couple of times,

“noooo…”

“yeeaah, she’s getting sleepy on me…” he says while he smiles that sweet sleepy smile.

“m’not! wanna keep doin’ this,” “m’i bouncing good?” you shake your head as tears spill out of your eyes, streaming down your face, and john b knows you're not crying because of pain, it's just what happens when you feel really good.

“super good sweetheart, feel like cumming?” he coos, bringing his hands down to grip your ass, and surely there is gonna be some obvious handmark bruising and soreness on your poor pretty ass in the morning.

“uh huh!”

“sh sh sh, just close your eyes puppy, and cream all over me, cover my cock.” john b takes the opportunity that your body is going weak due to your approaching orgasm and thrusts up into you unbelievably harder and deeper. as soon as your boyfriend hears your cute little high pitched moans escape your lips he knows that within seconds your tight walls are pulsing around him, cumming down hard on his dick, and that’s exactly what happens. you can feel his warm cum shoot up into your tummy, smiling at the feeling, knowing your boyfriend pretty much cums bucketssss!!

you hide your flushed sweaty face in the crook of his neck, your hands still gripping his shoulders with ferocity. john b then hears your breathing return to normal, rubbing your back with soft motions.

“did daddy tire his girl out? hmm? finally ready to get some shut eye huh bubba?”

“feel so full right now, wish we could stay like this forever…” john b continues to rub your back and nod at your drowsy mumbling, and you know you could pass out right in this very moment and he’d take care of you.

ᥫ᭡. ᥫ᭡.

also…..dbf john b? maybe? right?

how do you think jombee would help you come down from like a crying fit?? i feel like he’d be rlly good at it especially daddy!john b

he’s definitely got that grounding quality, like he just knows exactly how to calm you down.

he always lets you cry for a little bit, just to get your emotions out cause he knows it’s not healthy to bottle it all up. but when you start to get a bit more worked up and tired he’ll start to step in.

he’ll gently manoeuvre you over to the couch or the bed (whichever’s closer) and pull you to lay on top of his chest, putting a blanket over you. he’ll squeeze you real tight, cause his arms are just built for hugging apparently.

lots of kisses and praises like always!! “s’okay to just feel sad sweetie, good that you cried, that’s good for you.” so much reassurance!!

then he’ll feed you and possibly give you a bath if his water bill allows it, then taking you to bed and of course giving you mind blowing sex.

lene we need some 80s slasher JB!!!

ohh shure! he gives creepy summer camp counselor vibes - 80s!slasher!john b

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, blood, violence, death, threats, slapping, spitting, obsessed!john b - ₊˚⊹

you'd gotten the most perfect job for the summer as a camp counselor at a sleep-away summer camp. after meeting everyone at the orientation you've become close to another counselor who will be working with you, john b. 

he was in charge of the boy's cabin and you the girls, and your groups would meet up for activities, bonfires, smores, and lunch. he'd honestly grown really attached to you since you were always doing things together, whenever he'd see you chatting with another guy he'd feel possessive and you weren't even dating! yet john b would also embarrassingly get hard watching you slide down your shorts, staring at how tight your bikini bottoms fit around your ass. he'd spend that night in his cabin jerking off, picturing your pretty body bouncing on top of him, wishing he could grab fistfuls of your ass. he'd finish in his fist all sweaty and out of breath. 

you sat at your group's table in the mess hall facing john b's table, both of you making eye contact every few seconds. 

when the dessert was ready, each table was called to go pick up their plate of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream. john b's eyes followed your figure as you walked up to the counter, waiting until all the little girls got their slices. one of the guys that was working inside the kitchen, clearly flirting with you, asks if you want some. you decline with a smile but the young man insists, saying he made it himself, he lifts up the fork with a piece of the warm pie and dripping ice cream to your lips. you indulge him by opening your mouth and closing it around the fork, swallowing the desert you widen your eyes and nod. "it's really good!" you smile, the guy's hand reaching out to swipe the little bit of ice cream that stayed on the edge of your lip. 

watching this, john b was furious, letting that fucking feed you, touch your lips....

that night, the little girls knock on your cabin door, right next to theirs. they complain that they heard someone scream coming from the mess hall and are too scared to sleep. you tell them it's probably nothing and to go back to sleep, that you'll check it out.

the girls do as they're told and you walk over to the mess hall and walk inside the dark space to see what could have been the noise, hearing some sort of noise coming from inside the kitchen you figure it could be an animal that got inside, you press your ear to the swinging door honestly too scared to actually look inside. 

the door then swings open, causing you to stumble back and meet eyes with john b, with blood on his shirt, hands, and on the knife in his hands. you stand there confused...'did he cut himself?' you think, then you see it, through the open door is the pie guy dead on the floor with his blood pooling around his body. john b's hand is quick to cover your mouth before you can scream, "shshsh, you don't need to do that bub, you're fine." he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you. 

you nod your head slowly, chest heaving. 

"i'm gonna let go now okay? need you to be quite f'me, can you do that?" he raises his eyebrows and you nod again, he takes his hand off our mouth. "m'gonna need to take your clothes off...got blood on them..." he tells you rather than asks you, he raises the knife and cuts your top up the middle. 

"john b? what's going on..." you whisper, clearly scared. 

"i can't wait anymore, you drive me crazy, i need to do this." he rambles while tugging off your shorts rather roughly. 

"john b did you stab the kitchen b-" he cuts you off with a rough kiss to keep you quiet. he manhandles you over one of the tables and lifts you on top, facing him. 

you whine as he brings the knife up to your face. 

"don't scream, don't want to whole camp to hear you, n'i don't want to hurt you pup"

you nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as he cuts your panties to get access to your hot messy pussy. 

"awww she's so pretty..." he coos, his big rough fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you mewl. 

"jombee...i don't wanna...you killed someone!" you shake your head, almost hyperventilating crying. 

"hey, nuh uh, stop that." he pats your face to get you to listen to him. you watch as he pulls off his bloody shirt and unzips his shorts and pulls himself out, your eyes widening at the size. "he's not the only one i killed." he looks back into your eyes and you swear your heartbeat sped up and so did the pulsing of your cunt. 

"you're a murderer johnbee," you whisper but then gasp when you feel him start to push in, stretching your pussy. 

"i know, m'really mean, huh puppy?" he pouts mockingly and pinches one of your nipples making you squeal. 

"don't like being mean to you, but when you walk around acting like an angel, when i know you're a little tease...kinda have'ta put you in your place," he grunts, pounding into hard now, you can see the little bulge in your tummy. 

"i wasn't! i didn't mean to be! i didn't do anything!" you sob, one hand grabbing onto the table and the other hand gripping his bicep. blood sorta covering both of you from where he had touched you, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look at him. 

"wish you could be my good girl right now n'just take. it." he thrusts harder with his last two words. you wish you could scream at how scared you are of him but also at how good it feels. 

"open." he grunts, squeezing your jaw a little. you shake your head no as best you can, causing him to let go of your jaw and slap you, making your drooly cunt clench around him. "m'not asking again." he grabs your jaw again, and you open your mouth, and he spits into it making you whine in disgust. "swallow." you do as your told and swallow tears continuing to fall. 

"that's how a dumb little doggy gets treated, they get spit on." he grins and pulls out of you, manhandles you off the table, and bends you over, tits and face pressed against the wood. 

"nooo...no.." you drool onto the table. 

he bends down a bit to be right in front of your ass and spits on your other tight little hole, watching as his spit drips down to your pussy. you squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling and sob a little louder. 

he stands up straight again and reaches around to pat your sloppy little cunt now covered in his spit, and slides his cock back in. 

"s-so gross..." you mewl, making him laugh quietly, bringing the back of his bloody hand up to your face. 

"cum around me or i'll smear this on your face, you want that? hmm? some guy's blood on your face?" he threatens. "c'mon..." he bends down to press icky wet kisses to your cheek that instantly cum on on him, pulsing and squeezing him as your mind goes dumb. his big hand covering your mouth as you moan.

"there she is, good girl...yeaaah" he praises, thrusting into you more sloppily until he's pumping you full, flooding your poor little pussy. 

after a few seconds, he pulls out and uses his tip to smear yours and his cum around your pussy lips. 

"here." he hands you his bloody shirt for you to put on knowing it'll cover you enough to get back to your cabin decent, you pull his shirt over your head and make sure it covers your ass.

"we'll talk more tomorrow, okay sweetie? gotta go...clean that up." he tilts his head toward the body. "goodnight kiss?" he bits his lip, squinting his eyes, taunting you. you stand there lifting your head, he leans down to give you one last kiss on your lips, a string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away.  ᥫ᭡

On my boat? p2

Pairings- John B Routledge x fem!reader

Summary- John B comes crawling back.

Warnings- Smut. A lil bit of fluff and angst, but mostly sexual intercourse, hair pulling, scratching, Oral, language. (18+)

A/n- part one incase you missed it

You had kept yourself busy since sleeping with John B, staying away from Tanny hill in case you ran into Sarah. Though you doubted she would do anything, the fight wouldn’t end very well for her.

Your phone had been on silent for the past 15 days, the day after the boat, John B had tried calling you multiple times. But you didn’t want to get involved in the drama, you slept with him to help him get back at Sarah. You hadn’t slept with him hoping he’d want you back.

But apparently that’s exactly what John B wanted, he wanted you. He didn’t want Sarah, he told her it was over.

So when he turned up at your door one night, you were shocked. Your facial expressions portraying exactly that, he gave you his famous grin. “Hey” you stated, guarding yourself behind the door.

“Hey, I’ve been trying to reach you”

“I’ve been busy”

“Well can we talk? About the other night?” He questions, his palm pushes on the door slightly. It nudges against your shoulder but you stay put, not letting him into your house.

“No John B, I don’t think we need to” you state, you start to close the door. His scuffed sneaker blocking it from closing, his eyes beg you to listen to what he has to say.

“Seriously, it’s not going to happen. We broke up John B, you can’t come crawling back because Sarah hooked up with Topper… you got even. It’s done”

He sees the betrayal behind your eyes, he knows he shouldn’t be doing this to you. He had broken your heart once before by moving onto Sarah so soon after the break up, it wasn’t right for him to be trying to get you back.

So he let you close the door this time, you watched him through the peephole hole. He stayed rooted in his spot for a few more minutes before he finally walked away, you hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

A small part of you feeling crushed he didn’t fight harder to get inside, fight harder to tell you why he was coming around.

But you turned around and kept pushing his face to the back of your mind, kept going on with life and pretending you didn’t want him back in your life.

You hadn’t expected any of the pogues to be at the house party of your friend James, you knew they didn’t really have time for drinking and normal lives now that they were involved with the gold.

So when you see John B standing in the corner of the room, talking to Pope and eyes searching the sea of bodies. You couldn’t stop yourself from ducking, zigzagging your way through open gaps until you were outside.

“Great” you mumbled, eyes falling on Sarah Cameron and Topper. Of course, the two of them however ignored you. That was until you felt a hand on your shoulder and suddenly Sarah was staring at you. “Hey”.

You turn your body slightly, John B stares down at you with his boyish grin. His sun kissed skin glowing under the moonlight, you offer him a small smile and let him give you a hug. “Hey John B”.

“Want to get a drink?” He questions, nodding his head over to the messy table in the corner. Far enough away that Sarah couldn’t watch on, you nod your head before you can talk yourself out of leaving the party and follow beside him. “How are you?” You question, small talk was never your forte.

“Sarah and I broke up”

“Oh… I’m sorry”

That’s why he was coming around and wanting to talk to you.

He shrugs, taking a sip from the red solo cup in his hand. You reach across the table and grab the bottle of tequila, the exact same brand you two had been drinking a few weeks ago. “Shots?”

He repeats his actions from last time, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig. You copy but keep your eyes trained on him from the side, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly.

A small trickle of tequila escapes from your mouth, running down your lip, falling from your chin and landing on your chest.

“Can we go somewhere private” he questions, the tequila is doing the thinking and you're pulling him away from the party. Throwing all warnings out the window, you can feel his friend's eyes on the two of you.

Sarah’s eyes bored holes in your fingers that looped John B’s belt, you pretended not to notice them. Giving him a nudge into the secluded pool house, you don’t bother turning the light on. The fairy lights from outside give you both enough light to see.

“I didn’t fuck you because I wanted to get back together… I fucked you because you deserved to get even” you state, your bodies are close. He’s looking down at you and you can just make out the chocolate brown of his eyes. “So, you wouldn’t be into the idea of getting back together?” He questions, dropping his head a little lower.

Your mouths linger against one another, his hand cups your right cheek. Thumb caressing your chin, pulling slightly to open your mouth for him. “What?” You whisper, chest rising and falling heavier.

“I miss you”

“You miss the idea of me”

“No, I miss you Y/N… I need you, I physically ache without you, my brain won’t stop thinking about you… I can taste your lips, I can feel the warmth of your body”

“Stop John B”

“I can’t… I physically can not Y/N, I’m so sorry for the way things ended. I’m so sorry for bringing you into this mess, I fucked up and I will spend the rest of my life making up for it”

You push up on the balls of your feet and gently press your lips to his, you can feel the thudding of both your heart beats in your ears. You surrender yourself under his touch, his fingers dance up the length of your arm until he’s cupping your face with both hands.

The kiss becomes heated, both your breathing is heavy. Your mouth parted letting his tongue slip inside, his lips are warm and soft against your own. You could feel the soft tickle of his breath on your upper lip.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chest against his. His hands moving from your cheeks to your waist, he begins walking you backwards.

The back of your knees meet the small bed, pushing you until you lay down completely. His body hovering over your own, you part your legs enough to let him kneel between. “Do you think… you should be rushing back into this?” You stutter, his mouth sucking at your neck has your thoughts all over the place.

You had told yourself you didn’t need him, that you needed to move on from the idea of having John B in your life again. But, here you were. Spread, wet and desperate for him. You couldn’t keep lying to yourself, you wanted him. Not just in a sexual way, you wanted his mind, body and soul.

The feeling of his warm hand on your thigh has you snapping out of your thoughts, you nudge John B on the chest. He pulls away from you, soft chocolate eyes meet yours. “Answer me”

“Sarah and I have been over for a long time… things got too much when we were stranded on that island, we just didn’t know how to end it” John B states, his eyes flickering to the door of the pool room. “Her kissing Topper just helped make it easier to call it quits”.

You nod your head, understanding sometimes you just need something to solidify why you needed to break up. “I totally get that… but do you think us sleeping together is what you need?”.

“I need you Y/N, I needed you the moment I laid eyes on you the other night… I needed you when you left, the past 15 days, I needed you when I turned up to your house, when I saw you duck and run from me.”

Your cheeks flush bright red, embarrassed that he had noticed you hiding from him. Your heart thumping, the sound travelling to your ear drums, you push on his chest and guide him down onto the bed. Straddling his waist, pressing your palms to his abs.

“John B, if we do this… You need to be certain your done with Sarah”

“I am... I promise pretty girl”

You kiss his lips, silencing the both of you. Your body ached for him, grinding your hips against his. He deepens the kiss, running his tongue on your lower lip.

“I could kiss you forever” he mumbles, placing open mouth kisses down your throat. Warning signs went off behind your eyes, telling you this would end badly. But you squeezed them shut to rid the thoughts, you’d deal with the repercussions later.

“Show me how much you need me” You murmur, eyes pleading with his. He gives you a grin and scoops your chin between his palm, enveloping your lips with his.

Pulling you down so you lay on him, holding your waist with his other hand. The hand that held your chin moved to tuck the strands of hair behind your ear only to move them down your neck to hold you in place.

“Need you here” he mumbles against your lips, kissing his way down your neck to your collarbone. “Here”.

His fingers fiddle with the buttons of your dress, exposing your triangle bathing suit. Cleavage exposed, his lips travel down until he’s sucking dark marks on your cleavage. “Here”.

You're mesmerised by his touch, your body tingling with excitement. You watch quietly as he moves the flimsy material of your bathing suit and exposes your breasts. Your nipples hardening from the cool air, his mouth takes them in. Sucking on them until you were grinding your core into his bulge.

“Here”.

“John B, I need you to touch me” you beg, your arousal drenched your panties. Soaking his shorts as you moved your hips against his. “Please”.

“I thought I was showing you how much I needed you” he chuckles, his fingers massaging the swell of your breast. You back arching into his touch. “Show me how much you need me by giving me an orgasm”.

He nods his head, placing his hand on your upper back and one around your bum. Swapping you both around until you sat at the end of the bed, he shoots you a quick look as though to ask for permission.

You grip the waistband of your panties and pull them down your leg, your arousal dripping onto your thighs. “Needy” he whispers, pushing you down onto the bed before you can respond.

He parts your legs wide, staring directly into your core. You clench around nothing, pussy weeping for him to fill you up. “So pretty” he whispers, kissing his way up from your ankles until his breath fanned over your aching core.

Just as you begin to pull yourself up from the bed to hurry him along he brings his fingers to your folds, spreading you so his mouth can swallow your clit.

Your head drops back onto the mattress, back arching at the simple touch. “Fuck” you gasp, clenching your fingers around the material of the bed.

He moves your legs, bending them and pushing them up against your stomach. Opening you wider for him, his tongue slipping into your core, circling his tongue against your walls. “Jesus Christ!” You exclaim, your vision is blurry.

“Just me baby girl” John B chuckles, he’s inserting two fingers inside of you while his tongue laps at your clit. Your body is shaking, pleasure courses through your veins. “I’m gonna cum!” You cry, your walls pulsate around his fingers as he adds a third, angling them up against your g spot.

Your orgasm hits you at full force, knocking the breath out of you. Your legs shake against the bed, eyes squeezed shut as you let the pleasure rock you. “Shit shit shit”.

“That’s how much I need you”

You don’t give yourself time to recover, you're reaching for him. You needed him more than ever, shaky hands fumbling with the string of his shorts. He helps you remove his clothes, his cock swaying proudly.

“I’m going to fuck you now” he states, lining himself up against your hole. Your arms find home around his neck, both of your eyes training on where he eases himself in.

You both exhale, your fingernails scratch at his sun kissed skin. Chewing on your lower lip, he begins to rock his hips against you. His hair tickles your chin, his arms pulling you flush against him.

“You're perfect… I’ve missed you so much”.

“Show me how much… show me by fucking me hard… and fast”.

A switch seems to go off inside his head, he pulls your body away from the bed. Changing the position, your knees meet the mattress. He pushes you down until your cheeks press against the sheets, his hips connect with the swell of your ass.

His heavy balls hitting at your swollen clit with each thrust. The grip he has on your hips is harsh, red marks that are going to bruise. His cock hits deep into you, nudging at your sweet spot.

“Fuck… pretty girl, your magic” he exclaims, his hands run up the length of your back until they grip around the locks of hair, pulling you slightly away from the bed. “Your pussy is the best goddamn pussy I’ve ever had”.

You're clenching around him, his words stirring something inside of you. “Fuck.. John B, harder please!”. He quickened his pace, you try to look behind you but the grip on your hair stops you from doing so.

The sound of your skins meeting in the middle fills the small room, you can hear the bass from the music outside. You only just realise the curtains are open, anyone could walk by right now and see the predicament you were in.

This just has you more aroused, your soaking his thick cock. The wet sound has you arching your back and pushing back into him, your moans are growing louder and a sheen of sweat glistens on both your bodies.

“Shit… babe-”

Your words are cut short as he pulls out of you and repositions you, your legs straddling him. He pulls you down against him, his cock deep inside of you.

His hand presses against your lower stomach as he helps you move against him again, your body bouncing harshly as you chase your high. He can himself deep inside of you, grunts of pleasure leave his lips.

His eyes train on your breasts as they bounce with each thrust, he pulls himself up slightly to capture one between his lips. Sucking and pulling at your nipples, your finger nails dig into his skin.

Hips grinding and circling against him, the familiar tingle spreads from your toes up to the hair on your head. Goosebumps litter your body, arching your back as the wave of pleasure hits you once more and you're coming around his cock, walls sucking him as deep as humanly possible. “Fuck!”

“Oh shit… shit shit shit” John B cries, he grips your hips. His own hips stuttering against yours as he orgasm floods through him, he pulls out of you, his cum coating his lower stomach.

You move to sit next to him, regaining your breath. Your eyes meet his and he moves to kiss your lips.

“I promise to make up for everything, I promise to prove to you everyday why it was a good idea for you to take me back.. I promise to be better” John B states, his hand cups your face. Thumb caressing your cheek, you give him a soft smile.

All you could do was move forward, you can forgive and forget and see where the future takes you both. “Okay, let’s do this”.

You meet in the middle, lips pressed together once again.

Tagging people who wanted part 2 @novxturient @thirsty4nonlivingmen @thekidscallmebossss @bigenergy777 @gillybear17 🖤

babydaddy!john b moodboard

some of my my fav pics of jombee 🫶 i just want him to rock me t’sleep and tell me everything’s gonna be okay (pls send me any of ur favs)

between the devil and the deep blue sea

summary: you wake up to find your brother missing. you’re then met by two handsome boys in your motel room, who just so happen to have his key. they offer to help you find him.

pairings: jj maybank x reader / john b x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: a missing brother, teenage boys, and a whole lot of eventual unresolved sexual tension

a/n: outer banks. that is all. happy quarantine yall. big love.

It was jarring to wake up in the motel all by yourself. You hadn’t even heard him leave. 

It took you too long to notice. The room was plunged in darkness, and you took your time waking up, getting out of bed, brushing your teeth. You had only turned on the light when you had decided to get dressed. Which is when you saw the empty bed next to you. It was hastily made, but even the fact that it was made threw you off. He had never been one to make his bed, even back home. Especially not when he first woke up. Did he plan on not coming back? His suitcase was zipped up on one of the chairs at a small desk off to the side. It made your stomach drop to think about. In your PJs, you checked the bathroom, the closet (for good measure), and under the bed (just in case). 

You called his name, but there was no answer. You had woken up multiple times through the night, afraid of the windows exploding, or the door caving in. There were no sand bags or boards for your room. But each time, you were lulled back asleep during a calm in the storm. The noise plus the springy mattress had not allowed for a restful sleep, and you were out of bed as soon as it was reasonable.

Your bare foot hit the damp pavement stepping out of your motel room. Petrichor filled your nostrils. It was a refreshing change from the musty dank mess you had spent the night in, but it wasn’t much more comforting. You were still alone, and you had no clue why. There were men and women all over the motel balcony, working on moving large branches and surveying the damage. You were suddenly grateful you weren’t in one of the rooms on the end, that had large cracks in the concrete. You looked both ways from your room, but you hadn’t recognized anyone. Power tools drowned out the sound of children playing in front of the motel front down below you. There were mattresses put up against the railing. You were expected to check out today, and you had agreed on leaving early, but you didn’t want to leave without your brother. The only option was to wait for him. You returned to the room.

You figured a shower was in order. So you didn’t hear the knock until you came out, towel around your shoulders, fully dressed this time. Thank God. Because you heard the key turn in the lock and light filled the room and all the doubt plunged from your chest because your brother was back—

But he wasn’t. You stared from the bathroom. Two boys. Neither of them your brother.

“Huh,” one says, and you really take a good look at the two of them. Just in case you have to describe them to the police. 

Tall. Wavy brown hair. Hat backwards. Bandanna around his neck. The other one blonde. Short hair. Tank top. Really nice arms, but considering they’re breaking into your motel, you look past it. 

“Check the bag, see if there’s a name on there somewhere.”

A name. Why do they want your name? If they’re going to steal things, they might as well just take it. They’re both teenage boys. About your age. Tall. Probably taller than you, but you can’t tell. The blonde one shoves the key deep into his cargo shorts. They go to close the door behind them.

It takes them a second to notice you. You must look like a deer in headlights.

“How did you get in here?” You ask. You saw the key. Where did they get the key? Only you and your brother have keys, how did they—

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, we didn’t know anyone—” One of them starts.

“Fuck,” the other one says.

“We found this key, we just wanted to—” One goes to explain, but you’re more scared than they are.

“What are you doing here?” You ask

“We just wanted to see where this came from,” says blondie, holding up the motel key. “We wanted to just—”

“Yeah, we’re sorry, we’ll be leaving now,”  The brunette goes to leave, and the blonde goes to follow. The one with the key in his hand doesn’t let go of it. You need to know where they got that key from.

“No! Wait,” you say, and they stop in their tracks.

“Where did you find that key?” You ask. They look between each other.

“On a boat,” One of them replies. The other stares at him.

“What boat?” you ask. You can feel your heart thumping in your wrist. You leave the doorway and sit on your brother’s bed. The door to the motel room is slightly ajar. They, theoretically, could run and never come back. But they haven’t left yet. 

“We… we found it. At the bottom of a marsh.” Brunette says. You let out a shaky breath. What the fuck does that mean? Whose boat did he have? How did he learn to drive a boat? Why would he get on a boat, in the middle of a fucking storm?

Your phone rings on the table next to them. You rush over to it, and the boys move back a little bit. There’s no caller ID. You answer.

“Hello?” you stare at the boys. They stare back at you. They look invested now.

“Hi! Are you busy?” The person asks. It sounds like a man, but not your brother.

“Who is this? How did you get this number?” you say. Today, nobody feels like giving you their names.

“Is your brother there?” 

“No, he’s not here… who is this?”

“Ah, okay, sorry! Have a nice—”

“Who is this?” you demand, but the line goes dead. 

“Fucking great,” you mutter, and the boys are still there.

“Uhh,” one of them starts, “We’re just gonna go.”

You’d had enough. You were fed up with the cryptic messages of today. Your brother disappearing out of nowhere, these boys, the phone call. 

“Can you… Do you know where the boat is, still?” you ask. You run your hands over your face, exasperated. This day was shaping up to be one of the worst of your life.

They’re both silent for a beat, before Blondie speaks up.

“Yeah. We could, I mean, we could show you where it is. Why?” 

Brunette glares at him.

“I can’t find my brother. He left this morning… that’s his motel key. He doesn’t have a boat. I just… I don’t know what’s going on today.” you explain. Brunette gives you a sympathetic look.

“He might be at the store or something,” he suggests, but Blondie has other ideas.

“I’m JJ,” he introduces. He fishes the key out of his pocket and holds it out to you. You decline it.

“No, you can hold on to it. I only need one,” you say, and you lean over to open the drawer next to your bed. Your key isn’t in there. But your brother’s phone is. And a motel sticky note with a number on it

“Oh shit,” you say, and Blondie—JJ, leans over to look in the drawer. He takes out the paper.

“Guess you could use this key then, huh?” he says with a smile. You return it sadly, and take the key from his hands. He looks over the paper.

“Thanks,” you mutter. 

“What’s this for?” he asks inquisitively. 

You take it from his hands. It’s six random numbers. It means nothing to you.

“I don’t know,” you say, handing it back. He hands it over to the other boy. You get up, and move over to the side of the room where your shoes are. Where your brother’s shoes aren’t. 

You give Brunette a once over after you put your shoes on. 

“Who are you?” you ask, and he introduces himself as John.

“But he’s really John B.,” JJ clarifies.

“Is there more than one John?” you ask.

“Probably. It’s a popular name,” John B. says, leading the two of you out of your motel room. You’d have to leave before tonight. You have nowhere else to go, so maybe because of the hurricane they’d let you stay. Checking out the boat wouldn't take too long, right?

“You guys aren’t… serial killers, right?” you question after you lock the door behind you. This is a terrible idea, going with these boys you don’t know at all. But there have been worse ideas. Like your brother leaving early in the morning to steal a boat and sink it in the ocean. You know he can swim, but you can vividly remember him tiring easily at the lake you’d spend the summer at with your family together. Your heart breaks a little bit at the memory.

“Oh come on, could a serial killer look this good?” JJ says, flaunting his body. He playfully runs his hands over his chest and face, and John B. laughs at him.

“Come on, dude, you’re freaking her out,” he says, and looks back at you while you guys walk down the stairs. 

“No, we’re not serial killers. At least not today,” he smirks. You figured you were gonna regret this, but it was too late to turn back now. Besides, what would you do in the motel room until your brother got back. What if he did come back, and you weren’t there? 

Your heart races.

“Wait,” and the sound of their feet on the gravel stops. 

“What if he comes back? And I’m not there? I should at least leave a note or something, right?” you worry. 

“I mean,” JJ starts, “If I were you, wait—have you texted him?” he says.

“Yeah, it was one of the first things I did. But he didn’t take his phone with him.” you say, picturing his phone sitting in the drawer, halfway charged, your missed calls and texts the only notifications. You didn’t know his password either, so it’s not like you could snoop.

“Well, then I think the boat will be your best bet. I could dive down there and see if there’s anything else in it,” John B. suggests. JJ nods in agreement. It’s nice how they decided to assist you, but you can’t help but feel like there’s an ulterior motive underneath it all. 

“Why… I mean, thank you, but—why are you helping me?” you say as you walk with the boys. They’re easy to talk to, and you feel like you guys could be friends very quickly.

“We got nothin’ better to do,” John B. says with a smile, and you think how nice it would be to be a part of something.

“Oh shit, it’s the cops,” JJ says, and you and John B. look up immediately. 

“What are they doin’ here…” John inquires. 

“Do you guys know them?” you ask, and JJ gives you a look.

“Know them? We’re practically besties.” 

The way he says it doesn’t make you feel better.

“Let’s go, before they see us.” John B. says, and you follow them to a little boat moored on the shore. 

“This is what we found in the room,” JJ says as he gets closer. There’s two other people there.

“A girl?” the boy says. The girl just smiles at you.

“Hi,” you say, and introduce yourself to them.

“I’m Kie, that’s Pope,” Kie says, gesturing to Pope. They look nice enough. It’s a nice little crew they have, and you find yourself wishing you could have something like this. Maybe, just maybe, if things worked out, you and your brother could make a life here. Do something here. Be someone here. But first, you’d have to find him.

“We walked in and she was in the room,” John B. says.

“We thought someone called the cops on you. Look,” Pope says, gesturing to where they had pulled up. They were talking among themselves near their patrol car. 

“Yeah, we know,” JJ says. He holds your hand as he helps you onto the boat. His hands are firm and cold, but you realize you like holding them. He smiles at you, then John B. puts his foot on the side of it.

“Uh, where’s my hand JJ?” John B. asks, and JJ responds with a shove, almost pushing John into the murky marsh water as he loses his footing, half on the boat, half on the shore. John B. gives him a hard shove back, and JJ loses his balance, catching himself with one hand, that comes back wet and muddy. You look on in amusement, but Pope tugs on your shirt, moving you back a little.

“You might wanna move back,” he says, and John B. jumps onto the boat, JJ in tow. They run around the center console for a second, JJ chasing John B. with a muddy hand, and Kie pats the spot next to her. The boat was small, so you took the opportunity to sit down. 

“What’s your story?” she says.

“Hmm?” you hum, tearing your eyes away from JJ slathering the back of John B.’s shirt with half dry mud, flaking onto the boat and sticking to his shirt. Pope narrowly avoids the splash zone, gripping the edge of the boat. 

“I can’t find my brother. The key you guys found? That was his. And he doesn’t have a boat, so I don’t really know what happend. I wanted to go check out where it was, y’know?”

You felt better around Pope and Kie. They were the more level headed of the four, you concluded. Which is probably why they were on the boat and not breaking into your motel room. You unheedingly ran a hand over the key in your pocket, fiddling with the hem of your shorts. You wish you had brought sandals you noted, as some of the water on the boat saturated the canvas of your shoes, right above where the rubber sole ended. 

“That sucks. I’m sorry,” Kie apologizes, before JJ hops off the boat again. At the front, he undoes whatever knot he used to tie the boat to whatever waterlogged tree he could find there. With a strong push, he dislodges the boat from the shore, and just makes it back onto the boat before John B. turns on the engine.

“All aboard that’s coming aboard?” John B. cries out. 

“Aye aye Captain,” says JJ, moving to the front of the boat.

John eases the boat out of the motel area, and back into the marsh. 

“You ever been on a boat before?” JJ asks, taking a seat at your feet. You politely decline the beer he offers you. He shrugs and places it back into the cooler on Kie’s side.

“Uh, not one like this. I’ve been on a boat before though,” you say.

“What, you been on boats nicer than this one?” Questions John B. from the helm.

“Not possible. This is the nicest boat there is.” Pope replies sarcastically. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s my favorite part, the broken fishing rod holder or the helicopter engine on the back of this thing.” JJ says. You chuckle softly at his joke, but you find it endearing how John B. defends her. 

“Aw, don’t listen to them, Old Girl.” he says to the boat.

“You’re still my favorite,” John B. whispers to her, giving the wheel a little kiss.

Everyone laughs at him, and he grins, sitting a little taller in his seat. 

“Are you from around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” Pope says, beer in hand. They can’t be of age, but it’s an island, so who cares.

“No, I’m not. My brother and I were just passing through, but the storm hit. We were supposed to leave two days ago, but there were no ferries coming in or out.”

“On your way somewhere?” Kie asks.

“Nowhere specific,” you say, and JJ laughs.

“Mysterious, I like it,” he gets up from his spot at your feet and stretches upward. The tank he’s wearing already shows off a lot of skin, especially his sides, but when he stretches, he exposes his stomach a little bit. He’s got an athletic build. I guess that’s what happens when you live on an island.

“What about you guys?” you ask, suddenly a little claustrophobic with all the attention. 

“Have you guys always lived here?”

“Yeah. We all grew up here. Been here since we were born.” Pope says.

“Hopefully not for much longer,” clarifies Kie.

You quirk a brow at her. She continues.

“There’s nothing left for us here. Nobody cares about us. If we can get out, we can probably do something with our lives.”

“Yeah. If I want to do anything worth doing, I won’t be working under my dad when I do it.” Pope adds. Everyone else seems to agree.

Everyone except John B.

“I think that’s it,” he says, slowing the boat down considerably and looking over the console to get a look at it.

You and everyone else crowd the side of the boat. You don’t like how it leans forward a little, with the weight of everyone on the bow of it. In the cloudy water, there sits a big hunk of something. If he hadn’t had pointed it out, you probably would’ve paid no mind to it. It reminds you a little bit of how the Titanic sank.

John B. all of a sudden has his shirt off and his sandals, hat discarded somewhere off to the side with his bandanna in it. He jumps headfirst off the side of the boat, toward the object in the water. 

“I hate it when he does that,” Kie voices, “He’s gonna crack his head open one of these days,”

“Let him,” JJ says, watching the water intently with the rest of you. 

The seconds pass by slowly, and you begin to worry about John B.

“Should we go get him?” Pope asks, but John B. answers by popping up out of the water, sputtering and coughing, wiping his face with his hands.

“Anything?” you ask hopefully.

John B. stares at you. 

“Well, it’s still a boat.”

“Great, John, that’s totally gonna reassure her.” JJ criticizes.

“I couldn’t stay under long enough to see what was down there,” John B. says, making his way over to the side of the boat.

“So? What now?” you ask. All hope is lost. You can only hope that your brother is waiting for you back at the motel. 

John B. shakes his hair dry like a dog, and then slicks it all back. You can see he’s prepared to let the sun dry him off. He looks at you whimsically.

“Actually, I know where we could get some scuba gear.”

a friend in need is a friend indeed

request: would you ever write a reader/jj/john b three way? only write what ur comfortable with. i love reading your stuff!!!!

summary: reader, jj, and john b. are drunk. really drunk. handsome teenage boys make for fun parties and willing threesomes.

pairings: jj maybank x reader, john b. x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: unprotected sex, protected sex, vaginal sex, male on female oral sex, female on male oral sex, drunk sex

a/n: dont have unprotected sex :(  i hope every time you think of having unprotected sex, you picture your own conception. i’d also like for people to know i write outer banks, marvel, star wars, and more! i’m still taking requests, so maybe send in an ask for an idea you’ve had in your head for a while? and we can be friends? okay, big love. later!

The alcohol was overkill. She had to admit.

It’s why she was holed up in some random boy’s kitchen, house party ensuing around her as she macked on JJ.

Her arms fit perfectly around his waist in the bright fluorescent light of the kitchen. Their lips work together, sloppy and inexperienced, but full of nerves and nerve endings that send electricity through their veins.

John B. watches from the doorway.

JJ’s hands move from her waist down to her ass, squeezing for his own pleasure. She smiles into the kiss.

“What’s up, guys?” John B. interrupts. He seemed perturbed more than angry. 

She pulls away from JJ, but keeps her arms around his neck.

“I can smell the alcohol on you,” he says, smiling at her. He moves closer to them, the loud music from the living room making it hard to hear. There are people around them too, talking obnoxiously.

“You know what would be great right now?” She says, and John B. squints at her.

“What?” He says, giving in to his curiosity. The beer he’s holding is cold and sweaty in his warm hand.

JJ leans over, her arms still around his neck, to take a sip from a red solo cup.

“Just, like… sex. Good sex.” She complains, and JJ almost chokes.

“You’re crazy.” Says John B., but he’s not entirely sure she’s kidding.

“No, she’s drunk,” argues JJ hypocritically. 

“Would you guys fuck me?” she asks, and both of their eyes widen. Before they can say anything, she reveals, “I’d trust you guys to fuck me. You seem like you’d be a nice fuck.”

JJ leans in, and says just loud enough for John B. to hear, “We could always find out?”

She gasps and pulls away from him, laughing loudly, smile wide.

John B. licks his lips and places his beer down on the kitchen counter. 

“Not now,” he says, significantly less drunk than the other two.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” JJ asks, and she grabs John B. by the arm, interlocking them.

“Right here,” she sings sweetly, and John B. doesn’t pull away.

“Oh, I’m your boyfriend now? What happened to that other guy?” He questioned, and she blushed into his shoulder.

JJ gives John B. a look.

She smiles sweetly up at him.

“Would you fuck me, John B?” She asks again, and John B. hates that he can feel himself getting a little aroused.

He huffs at her. “Not here,” he replies, and she whines.

“Aw, John B., don’t be like that.” She pouts dramatically.

“I’ll have JJ do it then,” she says, reaching out for JJ. He sandwiches her between the two and she leans her head back against JJ’s chest. His hands are on her waist again and she feels him move to the music against her. She leans up and kisses John B. on the chin.

“No you won’t,” John B. clarifies, and he pulls her closer to him, so that JJ glares, and moves closer.

“You both are drunk,” he says, only on his second beer. The folding table in the living room has different ‘levels’ of alcohol, each increasing in strength with color. He swore he’s seen JJ with at least three different colored cups in the time they’ve been there. Which hasn’t been long. 

“No, no, I’ll…” she starts, but giggles, distractedly.

“I’ll let the both of you… do it.” She states coyly.

“ But you have to do it together,” she smiles, and the boys look at each other.

“No way,” John B. says, bluntly, arms crossed over his chest.

JJ stares at him.

“I just won’t look. It’s not like I haven’t seen your dick before,” he argues, and John B. is not drunk enough for this. 

JJ definitely is.

“It’d be really hot, John B.,” she encourages.

“No. I’m not gay.” He says, finally. 

“Neither am I, but she’s offering, bro,”

“It’s not gay, if it’s in a three way,” JJ sings horribly and lowly to John B. She giggles at them, and rubs her hand slowly up and down John B.’s arm. 

He sighs loudly.

“I’m not touching your dick, JJ, so don’t even think about it,” 

“I don’t want to touch your dick!” JJ cries, and people around him glare at the outburst. John B. shushes him.

“Is that a yes?” she asks, and John B.’s shoulders fall as he pinches his nose.

“Yeah. I guess.” He agrees, and she lets out an excited moan that shouldn’t make him so hot and bothered, but it does.

“Yay! Come on, come on,” she encourages, and both boys are following her into some poor soul’s bedroom. It’s definitely the bedroom of a teenage boy, bare and brightly lit by a red neon playboy sign. The full sided bed has a navy blue comforter and there are trophies that line his dresser. The boys look at each other, taking in the room. She makes no effort to remember it, because she’s already unbuttoning her shorts and collapsing on the half-made bed. Her legs lay off the side of the bed, for easy access of course, and she stretches, hands reaching up for the pillows haphazardly thrown at the head of the bed. Her shirt rolls up a little, and she rubs her hands over her skin, playing with the hem of it. 

She finds it funny that though he was reluctant, John B is the first one to strip down to his briefs, and she can see his half hard-on. He goes to take himself out, ready to peel her out of her remaining clothes, but she has other ideas.

“No no, not yet.” she says, and she sits up. She grabs John B. by the shoulders, and pushes him down to his knees. He looks unaware of what she wants him to do. She grabs his hair at the scalp, and slowly tugs him between her legs. He gets the hint, and she watches as John B. wiggles off her shorts and underwear.

JJ fumbles with her bra behind her. She watches these clueless boys with a smile.

He ends up just tugging it over her head and tossing it on the floor along with her other clothes.

She feels John B.’s tongue, abrupt and fast and vastly uncomfortable.

“Woah, slow down there, partner,” she says, and with her hand on his head again, she guides him with slow, stroke strokes of his tongue. 

“Much better,” she encourages, and she lays back, one hand down by her side, the other rubbing small circles into her clit.

She sticks her tongue out for JJ, and he makes quick work of shimmying out of his shorts. He doesn’t even bother taking off his boxers, his member already throbbing hard and pulsing in his hand. He gives it a couple of strokes before guiding onto her lips.

“Ohhh, aw, fuck,” JJ says, her lips and tongue teasing the tip of his cock as John B. gets to work on her entrance. He’s down between her legs, just like she showed him, teasing and licking and kissing as she rubs fast circles with her fingers.

He does something to make her moan, and JJ stops to watch.

“Oh, fuck, John B.,” she whines, “d-do that again,” 

And he complies, fucking his tongue in and out between her velvet folds, head bobbing rhythmically, fast, as she picks up the pace with her own fingers.

JJ decides he wants in on the fun, and he kneels by her head, tilting her neck up to plant firm kisses there, hard enough to bruise.

She lets out breathy gasps at the attention, and it only encourages the boys further. 

John B. grips her hips hard as JJ takes a hand to play with her breasts, nipples peaked and stiff under his heavy touch. Her other hand comes up to cup JJ’s, and he continues his unyielding kisses as she guides him, showing him exactly the amount of pressure she wants. As soon as he’s got it down, he pulls his head away to watch her unravel underneath him. Her head tilts back and she grinds her hips along John B.’s tongue.

There are whimpers from her and wet sounds from John B. and soft panting from JJ as he takes his other hand to rub himself, stroking his cock leisurely. 

“Oh my god, this is better than porn,” JJ comments, but both of the others ignore it. 

“Right there, John B., right there, fuck,” she curses, and closes her eyes to immerse herself in the moment.

“Just like that, perfect,” she encourages, and John B. licks and plunges his tongue deep, and removes it again to rub circles at her clit, replacing her hand. His tongue is wet and he licks long stripes up and down her length.

“Fuck, oh fuck, just—faster, John B., just like that.”

John B. circles his tongue faster, and it only takes a few moments for her to gasp and buck her hips up, so much so that he has to pressure her hips down to keep her there, toes curling, her legs over his shoulders, trying not to squeeze his head.

She whines and moans, and JJ has to stop touching himself because he feels like he’s going to blow his load right there on the floor.

“Oh, fuck, John B.,” she pants, and John B pulls away, watching her womanhood contract at his touch, wet cum framing where he was about to plunge his cock.

She smiles dopily at the ceiling. He is ragingly hard and almost ready to cum. 

“Guess what guys?” She starts, breathy, and they stare at her.

“I brought condoms!” She whispers excitedly, gesturing to her pants on the floor.

Normally, they’d protest, but they’re so horny they’d take any opportunity to cum inside of her.

John B. struggled with her pockets, but, condom in hand, he rips one open, pinches the tip, and rolls it onto his hard cock. It fits, and he admires her.

He rubs his cock over her entrance, playing with the wetness, and she gasps and shudders when he rubs it over her clit.

He smiles arrogantly, and slowly pushes his head in. It doesn’t take much effort, thanks to her orgasm.

He slowly makes his way in, and JJ starts stroking again, standing up to place his cock on her lips. She purses them slightly, and JJ rubs back and forth over them. John B. moans form between her legs.

JJ grabs her chin firmly, and she looks up at him with doe eyes, moaning as she opens her mouth and lazily takes just the tip.

She hollows out her cheeks around him, and he takes in a shaky breath.

John B. pumps fast inside her, pulling out halfway and pushing back into her, holding her hips with a strong grip. She thinks it might bruise, but she doesn’t care. 

All of a sudden John B.’s strokes get more erratic, faster and harder than before. His breathing is fast, and she watches him as his eyes close and his head falls back, strong, slow thrusts now.

He cums, hands on her hips, cock buried deep inside her, his groans filling the space between them. His strokes are calculated, milking every single drop from himself before pulling out and collapsing on the bed next to her.

“You’re next, JJ,” John B. jokes, and JJ doesn’t say anything, moving to take his spot.

He pushes into her, and she notices. Every ridge, every vein on his cock she can feel.

JJ’s strokes are slow and deliberate to start, but then he starts to pick up speed, as does his breathing. It’s only a few seconds before he’s close.

He pumps fast and hard, with reckless abandon for a few moments before he pulls out quickly, and jerks his shaft, concentrating on the tip.

He cums all over her stomach and groans loudly right after, coating her chest with his thick white cum. He grabs a fist full of the bedspread as he shudders.

JJ lets his shoulders fall, and he hunches over. He plants kisses to the inside of her knees, and she giggles, pulling them away. He smiles at her.

There’s heavy breathing from all three of them. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” she comments, and the boys chuckle.

“Yeah John B., nothin’ to be afraid of, man.” JJ pants, running a hand through his hair. He tugs his boxers up over his thighs and tucks his now soft cock back into them, looking around the floor for his shorts.

“Shut the fuck up, JJ,” he says, getting up to find his pants as well.

She lays there, and one of the boys toss her a small pile of her clothes onto the bed.

JJ stares at her once he’s clothed, his seed still on her stomach.

He sighs. He hates this part.

“Go back to the party,” JJ says to John B., “I’ll clean up.” 

John B. looks at him suspiciously.

“Really,” JJ assures, gesturing to her slowly more competent state. She stares at the cum on her stomach.

“It’s okay,” she assures, but JJ is there, using some poor soul’s discarded t-shirt as a rag. It doesn’t smell as far as she can tell, and it’s soft. 

As soon as he’s done, and throws the t-shirt into a corner of the room.

“Uh, okay. We’re gonna go now,” he says, even though John B. left already.

“Okay.” She agrees. JJ slowly makes his way out of the room.

She sits up and gets dressed, ready to make her way back to the party, when John B. enters the room again.

“Where’s JJ?” He questions, making his way over to her swiftly.

“He went back to the party. I thought—” she starts, but John B.’s mouth is on hers, salty and sweet, passionate and slow. His hand grabs the back of her neck and pulls her closer, impossibly so, and there’s teeth and even some tongue.

He pulls away.

“That’s for kissing JJ earlier, in front of me,” he clarifies, and she doesn’t tell him he tastes like her.

She smiles as she watches him leave. His shirt was on backwards. 

lazy river

request: hell yeah prompt list time! kissing john b in the rain for love and longing? love your content btw summary: it’s been a long time since you’ve been to a water park. jon b knows this, and wants to change that.

pairings: john b. x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: super fluffy. real cute. might rot your teeth.

a/n: requests still open! i got an AP exam this week. i also have to finish a create task i’ve had weeks to work on and haven’t, so... wish me luck. big love! 

It’s just how you remember it as a child; all funnel cakes and water slides and screaming children and too hot pavement. Exactly where you want to be when summer's in full swing. 

Probably the best unofficial date you’ve ever been on.

You don’t know how much money John B. had to save up in order to get you there, but the topping on the cake was his ability to score a free bus ride to and from going with a small church group. You'd never known him to be religious, but it was an eventful ride for the two of you. John B. was playing the role of full blown Christian boy, and it was so hard to hide your smiles and giggles that everyone must've thought you were his even more Christian friend. K-love plagued the speakers, and you and John B. agreed some of it wasn't bad, but most of the kids were insufferably nice, to a point where it was almost disingenuous. Standing in line with them was a pain, but as soon as you were able to, you two booked it off to the umbrellas, searching desperately for two lounge chairs. Maybe even one at this point. Anything really, until you found a small bunch of chairs left secluded by a family whose child was not having a good time. It was a perfect spot right under the umbrella allowing you to spread your towels out and leave the cooler by the chair. John B. was fast to attack the food in there; sandwiches, chips, fruits, cheese. You name it and JJ had gotten (stolen) it from somewhere for you two. “You’re gonna get sick,” you commented, as he scarfed down a sandwich. The smell of sunscreen plagues the area. You rubbed some onto your face. John B. had miraculously thought of everything except spray on sunscreen, so you were forced to either buy some from the gift shop at a ridiculously inflated price, or use the lotion. “Sick shmick. Do you want to go on some rides?” He says, wiping his dirty hands down on his towel. The towel that was supposed to wipe down his wet body. You grimaced, but then he slipped his shirt off and shimmied off his flip flops. He was so well toned and tan already. You can’t imagine him wanting to get any tanner. “Yes I do, actually. Can you get my back first?” You say, and wonder if John B. actually forgot the spray on sunscreen or opted for the lotion instead for this reason. His hands were firm on your shoulders as he applied the sunscreen, rubbing the taut muscle there and going dangerously low down your back. It sends a shiver down your spine and he can so obviously tell because he does it again to gauge your reaction. He ruins it though, by sending you off with a buddy pat on your shoulders. “Let’s do pirates plunge first,” he said, and it made you smile how excited he got. You wondered how long it’s been for him too. “No,” you argue, “we have to work our way up to that.” "Do NOT tell me you're planning on staying in the lazy river the whole time," he said, turning to where the middle aged adults who obliged their children lounged, floating leisurely under bridges and waterfalls. It made him shiver. "It's a great place to tan," you teased, and he glared at you. You smiled, and  stretched upward. "You want sunscreen?" You ask, and he looks like he's about to say no, but he nods his head yes. His back is smooth under your hands, and you make sure to lather his shoulders up nicely. You hand him the bottle when you're finished, and he scoffed. "You only did half," he says. "You can do the rest," you assure, and he rolls his eyes, squirting a glob of cream onto his palm before smearing it over his chest. "This kind of half-assery won't be tolerated," he jokes, "I'm going to have to report you to the manager." "Oh please. You're the king of half-assery." He gasps as he rubs his palms down his face, leaving streaks of white there. "How dare you. You're fired." He claims, looking over to one of the smaller two-person slides. You lean over to him and rub in the white with your thumbs, cupping his face a little. He watches your face the whole time, which, you have to admit, is a little creepy. When you're done, you shove him for good measure, before taking off in the other direction. The sun beats down hot on your shoulders, and you two spend hours waiting in lines and talking and spending time together. You could see the burn on John B.'s face and expected you were going to feel the burn too later on that night. It was a blessing whenever clouds rolled through the sky, blocking out the sun for a brief period before she cleared them away. The rides were subpar, but you two didn't notice in the slightest, screaming and yelling at each other down the slides and in tubes. The two of you dodged children and concerned parents and other teenagers, bobbing and weaving in and out of lines. Dripping wet, bodies glistening in the hot sun, you two decided funnel cakes were in order. You stood in line as John B. toweled off by your seats, and he ducked under the belt to stand with you. It got him dirty looks, but he didn't notice. "When are the church kids leaving?" You pondered, stretching on your tip toes to look in front of John B., trying to catch a glimpse of any of them. "In like an hour," he says, glancing up at the big clock poised over the food shack. There was only one in the entire park, which must've been good for business. They were so hot when you got them that the powdered sugar on top was melting. But as you made your way back to your seats, you felt it. “Oh no,” you whine, the water droplets on your bare shoulder. You turn to look at John B., but his gaze is not with yours. His eyes are on the sky, the grey storm clouds rolling in above. You sigh loudly. It’s not like you’re afraid of getting wet. Of all the places to be when it rains, a water park ranks at least in the top ten. But now all the rides were going to be closed. For god knows how long. He looked back down at you, grinning, and then noted your crestfallen expression. He pouted. “Why the long face?” He said, grabbing your chin and shaking it. You jerked away from his grasp to sulk. “Our day is ruined,” you grumbled, walking down in the direction of your chairs, planted conveniently under one of the large umbrellas. He jogged to catch up to you, intertwining his hand with yours. He swings it back and forth childishly. If he could, he’d probably skip down the concrete path to your area. "We have to eat these anyway. It'll probably be done by then," he assured. Much to your dismay, it was not in fact done by then. "That bus is probably going to leave early now," you mused, checking the notification app they made all of you download before you left the bus. “No way. This day’s not over. It’s just getting started,” he said, plucking your phone from your grasp and burying it in the bag he had brought. He left the rest of the conversation to your imagination before he took off running, pulling you in tow. “Hey!” You cried out, but you couldn’t help the giggle rising out of your throat when he stumbled over his own bare feet a little. He hushed you as you caught up to him on the side of the lazy river. There was nobody in it. All the employees were at the front entrance of it, escorting people out. "Wanna do a river run?" He said, slipping down the ladder. Your eyes bulged. "They're gonna kick us out," you said, hopping in after him anyway. You two stood downstream, and waited for tubes. It only took a few seconds before John B. was passing you one, rain falling on his hair and chest. "Now it's cold," you complained, but John B. chastised you. "Stop being a baby. Hang on," he said, standing up for you to grab onto one of the handles of his tube. The lazy river in the rain was a lot more fun than a lazy river in the sunshine. It would only be a few minutes before you reached the front of the ride, where all the workers were stuck trying to collect the tubes. John B. was splashing water at you, and shaking your tube to get you to fall out. You return the favor by flipping him over near the waterfall. He came up sputtering, and in return tried to flip your tube as well, but you latched onto his neck. It was easy for him to support your weight in the water, and he grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist as the tubes got away from the two of you. They floated sadly down the river, under the waterfall by themselves. John B. chased them, hands supporting you, your arms wrapped around his neck. He moved slowly towards the waterfall, and threatened to throw you under it. You squealed and pushed yourself up against him as much as you could, cradling his head to your own. If you were going down, so was he. But he stopped just short. You pulled away just a bit, and he was looking at you, eyes intense, smile bright. Your heart skipped a beat and you swear you saw him move closer. You couldn't help but do the same. Until his lips were on yours, moving in sync with you, rain pelting your bodies. His hands were firm underneath you, and you knew he wouldn't let you fall. It had been so long since you realized you wanted to kiss him for the first time. You could settle for him kissing you. "I love you, you know that?" He remarked. You thought it was sweet, until he tossed you under the waterfall. You swear you could hear his laugh from under the water.

eye of the storm

request: Hi! Can you do an imagine where the reader is surfing with John B en JJ on a stormy night and she gets hurts/almost drowns?

summary: john b., reader, and jj go surfing during agatha. they get hurt and the boys fuss and care for them. 

pairings: jj x reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: near death experience, near drowning, large cuts

a/n: no super huge romance, just some friendly post trauma kisses. nothin gay about kissin your homies. big love

You shouldn’t have gone with them in the first place, but by the time you realized the tides were too rough for you, for anyone, it was too late.

The waves were frothy white, loud, and gorgeous. It was impossible not to feel tempted by them, by mother nature’s intense beauty. They surged high, rolling in on themselves before pushing in as far as they could onto the beach.

At first, you weren’t going to go in. You were going to stand around, watching them in the cold rain, making sure they didn’t drown or get hurt. It was stupid, you thought, as they blared music in the van, harsh winds and pelting rains sounding loudly against the metal, almost pushing John B. off the road a few times.

But the crash of the waves and the peaks of the crests, the strong pulling of the tide at your bare, sandy feet were too much for you. It courses adrenaline through your veins at an unfiltered rate. The sides of the beach were blown out, so you’d have to stay in the middle. You’d be able to live with that.

As JJ and John B. paddled out into the water, you retreated back to the van, where your board sat, begging to be used in the storm.

Paddling out into the ocean, you feel how intense the current is. You have to duck under many waves before you get one that’s salvageable.

It’s incredible to see through the barrel of the wave, but only for a second, as the wave changes and you’re under the water, eyes and lungs stinging. Your hand catches your board before you go too far down, and you wait the wave out, before pulling yourself onto the board, stomach flat on the hardwood finish and paddling out further. You have to duck under the waves that have already started to swell, but you have a good feeling about one far out, forming in the distance.

You see the break line and you’re off, paddling as hard as you can to catch it before it peaks. Before you know it you’re up on the board, and you make the bottom turn, cutting through the wave like a knife, balanced out and eyes the clearest they’ve been all week. You curve up, and then back in, watching the water crest right in front of you. But the whole wave closes out at the same time and you go under again, water in your eyes and ears. The wave turns you over in the swell, and you start swimming back to the surface.

Only, you’re not. You feel the tug on your leg, and you realize you’re swimming in the wrong direction. Using all your strength, you make it to the top, but are pushed back under in another swell, breathless and disoriented.

You pull your leg up to find your strap, panicking, and climb it up to where your board was, getting pulled viciously toward the beach in another wave. You swim up to the top, finally getting some air, and try to find your board. You pant as you wipe your face, but you can see another wave coming. You go under as it crests right above you, and your lungs sting. You come up coughing.

After the wipe out you don’t realize how close you are to the rocks near the pier until you’re on top of them, scraping your legs and the palms of your hands. The ocean is pure white there, all froth and harsh currents. But it’s not as strong as the waves in the middle. You pull your board into you, and decide you’ve had enough for the day, when you see John B. on  the beach, board in hand. You wipe your face again, and sit upright on your board. You survey the water and are surprised to see JJ making his way over to you. His hair is curled over onto his face, almost like a wave itself, his chest bare and his arms moving hard.

“Rocks!” You yell out to caution him, but he’s pulling his board to his chest and ducking under a wave.

He’s almost close enough to hear you when you watch him wince. He must’ve caught himself on a rock.

“You okay?” He yells, and you’re nodding, ready to go back in. He’s by your side and grabbing your arm to keep himself next to you. You grab his knee and feel the waves rock the two of you steadily.

“What happened?” He asks, and you know what he means but it’s too dangerous to hold a conversation out here.

“Let’s go in!” You yell over the swell, and he watches you with concerned eyes for a moment, before he makes you go first. It’s not as bad just riding the waves in, and as soon as you can stand, John B. is in the water, taking your board for you and walking alongside you.

You get to dry sand and rip the velcro off of your ankle. The waves are still loud, but at least now you can hear when John B. tells you, “You’re bleeding.”

You look down and see the culprit: a large scrape down the entire side of your calf, which stings with the salty air. He puts your board down in the sand and kneels down by it to get a better look when JJ makes it in too. He drops his board to the sand and doesn’t even bother unstrapping himself from his board.

“You okay? We saw you wipe out pretty bad,” JJ says, and there’s no pride in his voice. Just concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay, I just cut my leg on the rocks over there,” you say, watching John B inspect the cut.

“I think I have a first aid kit in the car. We have towels too,” John B. informs, and he picks up your surfboard and his own, waiting for you to start walking.

JJ is on you in a second, throwing your arm over his shoulder, his board under his other arm, as his hand wraps around your side. You smile and hobble with him over to John B.’s van.

The walk is silent save for the wind, and is entirely awkward.

“You’re shaking still,” JJ whispers to you as he sits you down on the floor of the van.

“I’ll be fine,” you reply. He moves to the back of the van as John B. starts it up. You wipe your sandy feet carefully on the asphalt before JJ comes back with a towel, pressing it carefully to the cut.  You wince.

“Sorry,” he mutters, lifting it off the cut to inspect the blood. He places it gently back down and applies pressure.

“Ugh, JJ stop doing that. I’m gonna pass out,” you tease, but JJ is not laughing. He glares up at you, and you watch him with warm eyes.

John B. enters from the other side of the van and closes the door, surfboards piled up in the back. He looks under the seat and finds an old first aid kit, probably from when his dad bought the van. It’s dusty and yellow and disgusting looking. He sits down behind you and starts going through it. You turn to him.

“If you take anything from there and touch me with it I’m gonna drive home and leave you here,” you say, and JJ chuckles.

“Be careful, man, she’s bleeding. There’s no telling what she’ll actually do,” JJ says, and he tries to tie the towel around your cut. He’s having a hard time.

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” you tell JJ, but he ignores you. Until he laughs out loud.

“A hoe never gets cold,” John B. says from behind you, and JJ remarks, “Hey! I was gonna say that!”

You shake your head and roll your eyes.

“That’s not true. I’m freezing,” you tell the boys, and they both laugh, which fades into silence between you three as John B. puts the kit back under the seat and JJ finishes tying the towel.

There’s a radio station playing ads from the front seat.

“Get in. I’ll close the door,” JJ says, and you scoot backwards as he hops into the back, sliding the door behind him. John B. strategically maneuvers his way into the front of the van. JJ sits next to you, inspecting your fingers and bending them, as if to make sure they’re all in working order.

“You scared us, y’know,” John B. comments from the front. You rest your head on JJ’s shoulders as he notices your scratched palms that have since stopped bleeding.

“It’s okay,” you chide, and JJ runs the pads of his fingers over the cuts.

“It’s just a bad wipeout. It happens all the time to you guys,” you explain, and you feel JJ kiss the top of your head. You pull away to look at him, eyes wide, but he’s not looking at you anymore. He’s watching the rain pelt the window on his side. You two should probably be in seats, but it doesn’t matter at this point.

He refuses to look at you, so you don’t make him. Instead, you place your head back on his shoulder, bring his own palm up to your lips, and plant soft, inaudible kisses there.

You feel him smile as John B. takes his time cruising down the highway.

hot and bothered

request: can you write one where jj and the reader have to share a bed at john b’s and jj ends up waking the reader up all hot and bothered? i love your writing so much keep it up!!

summary: jj and reader fall asleep together at john b.’s place. reader isn’t asleep for long when jj wakes them up asking for help with a rather hard problem. 

pairings: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: vaginal sex, unsafe sex, inexperienced boys, cunnilingus, lots of inappropriate kissing, almost voyeur? I mean they’re fucking on someone elses futon, so… 

a/n: WEAR CONDOMS. but... ask and you shall receive ;) this is porn without plot. big love, you animals

Only after 1 AM you realized it was late, when John B. excused himself to bed, making sure you had a blanket for the pullout couch in the living room. You were pretty much passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow, and JJ curled up on the other side of the couch. At least he was liberal with the blanket sharing. 

You had woken up in the middle of the night, thinking it was of your own accord. Until you felt JJ from behind, lips lazily on your neck and hands roaming where they shouldn’t be.

“JJ,” you muttered, suddenly very awake. 

You listen to him groan as he pushes himself up against you. He’s quite prominently hard in his gym shorts. It helps you know for a fact he’s not wearing underwear. He grinds slowly.

“Will you…” he trails in a whisper, and you answer by pushing back against him. You listen to his breath hitch.

“Don’t wake John B.,” he clarifies, reaching under your arm to wrap his hand around your waist. He squeezes softly. 

You take the hand and peel it off you.

You sit up in the dark and JJ follows you, watching in the moonlight as you strip your shirt for him. He moves closer, stroking himself in his shorts and watching as you undo your bra with years worth of expertise. You hear the futon creak as you move to sit on his lap, fully aware of the erection in his pants. He kisses you, hands roaming your skin, playing with the waistband of your own shorts. He kisses hard, biting at your lips and soothing them over with a lick.

You slide off of him and kneel as you pull them down to your knees, and the breeze from a window you couldn’t care less about is cold against your skin. You slip them off and place them somewhere on the bed and arousal pools in your stomach, and you feel yourself throbbing for JJ as you lay on your back. 

JJ knows exactly what you want from him, and he lays down in between your legs, tongue eager and cock pulsing.

You fist his hair in your hands and bob his head to a rhythm you create, watching JJ grind against the sheets, hips wide and hands firm on your thighs, calves resting on his shoulders.

He takes his time, sticking his tongue out flat to let you move against him.

Soon the arousal is too much, and it only takes a few quiet minutes before you’re grinding hard and fast, whimpering under his tongue and coming undone at his touch. You cum, throwing your head back against the pillows and you can feel JJ’s wet kisses at your thighs.

He finds his own rhythm against the sheets and you’re afraid he’s going to cum, so you tilt his head up and push him away. His face is wet, and he grins, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Even in the dark you can make out the obvious tent, until he slips the shorts down to his ankle and struggles to get them off quietly.

“Shhh!” You hush, and he gives you a look that says, “I’m trying!”

He rubs his cockhead over your entrance, teasing, until he slowly slips his head in.

“Relax,” he instructs, leaning over you and gives you a surprisingly gentle kiss. He kisses your cheek and you smile as he rubs his nose over it, a soft eskimo kiss. 

He slowly pushed in further.

It stings, but he’s aware of himself, quietly taking his time until he’s all the way in. 

You find with each thrust, the makeshift bed creaks, but JJ is so blissed out you expect he doesn’t notice.

“Wait,” you whisper, and JJ stops thrusting.

“What, are you okay?” He says. You clench around him and he whimpers, but doesn’t move. His hands squeeze your hips.

“Lay down,” you instruct, and he slowly pulls out, flips himself eagerly onto the bed. You giggle quietly and hush him, planting your face into his neck and kissing him there. He breathes heavily as you settle back, lining yourself up with his cock, bending over at weird angles to make sure. He runs his fingers through your hair, and you look up at him and smile.

He groans as your hips meet his, legs bent on either side of him. Your hips stutter as you move, slowly grinding back and forth, being careful not to make any noise. You plant your hands firmly by his head.

It doesn’t take long before JJ is forcing his hips up to meet yours, and his breathing shifts.

“Ah, ‘m gonna cum, fuck,” he gasps, hands on your waist. You’re quick to get off of him.

He takes the base of his cock into his hand and continues with the same speed you were going.

“C’mere,” he pleads, and you’re hesitant to take the cockhead into your mouth, but do anyway. It would help with the cleanup after all.

He strokes the base fast, your mouth on just the tip of his cock, and he cums, body tense and hips stuttering and mouth open. 

It’s sticky and slimy and just barely salty down your throat, but you swallow, getting rid of most of the evidence in one fell swoop. 

“Woah,” JJ says, adjusting himself on the bed, his erection now half hard and lying against his hip. He lifts his head to look for his shorts, and you pass them to him. You realize you don’t even know what time it is. He lifts his hips and slips them on before laying over on his side to watch you get dressed.You don’t bother finding your bra, just slipping the t-shirt on and your shorts. Your underwear would have to be found in the morning. You laid on your side now too, looking at JJ. He smiles.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and you move closer to him. He accepts, and as he lays down on his back, you curl up into him, throwing a leg over his and resting your head on his shoulder.

With the smell of sex in the air, you can only hope you weren’t too loud as you fell asleep peacefully in JJ’s arms, you not as hot, and JJ not as bothered.

one in the hand, two in the bush

request: Coul you write a John b x reader where the reader is JJ’s sister and she has feelings for John b and it ends in smut (if you’re comfortable with that) and JJ walks in while drunk or high and praises John b for being with a girl and later on finds out it was his sister 

pt 2: This is for the John b and JJ’s sister request, maybe JJ could find out because both her and John b have hickeys and marks all over

summary: john b. finds it hard to sleep one night. that’s not the only thing that’s hard. you decide to enhance his experience a little bit. pairings: john b x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k warnings: little bit of second hand embarrassment, voyeur, male masturbation, vaginal sex, hand job stuff a/n: the title is a double entendre of sorts haha… man… words sometimes… big love, gang.

It was dark and warm in his room that night, and he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, trying to lull himself into a peaceful rest, but even in silence everything was too loud. The cicadas were chirping, JJ snoring softly in the living room, the ambiance of life out his window was just the wrong side of too loud.

Naturally, it was only a matter of time before his hand found its way under the covers and into his briefs.

He was sick of staring off into darkness. He closed his eyes, but nothing came of it. He was ready to come another way, in the meantime. 

He figured there wasn’t much else to do at that rate, and some serotonin might be exactly what he needed to push him off into dreamland. So he started playing with himself, fondling and pulling as he loaded up PornHub on his phone.

It’s not hard to be quiet while he does it, but he makes sure the volume on his phone is the lowest it can go while he could still hear it. At any given time he could have four friends sleeping over at his house, invading into him room for late night fast food runs.

He takes his time, scrolling and browsing through videos, tugging on himself until he got hard.

He finds himself so deeply entranced by his own rhythm, and the feel of lotion on his cock, that he doesn’t hear you slipping down the hallway from the spare bedroom. He doesn’t hear your bare feet on the floor and  he definitely doesn’t hear you stop outside his bedroom, debating whether or not to go in.

Until you hear him.

The squelch of skin on skin and heavy breathing and barely audible moans, clearly not coming from John B. Definitely a phone.

You know he’s jerking off in there. You only wanted to get into bed with him to cuddle after a particularly jarring nightmare, but now there’s a whole new problem.

You could either barge in like you hadn’t heard him and embarrass him, or maybe he was doing something else. Maybe he was working out, or watching weird youtube videos in bed, or scrolling through the kinky side of tiktok.

Either way, you weren’t planning on sleeping alone that night.

But then you hear what you think is your brother, or maybe Kie or Pope, but probably your brother, get up. His feet are padding toward you, or more specifically, the bathroom in the hallway you’re standing in. You really don’t want him to catch you standing outside of John B.’s bedroom, so you twist the knob as quietly and as quickly as you can, the door squeaking just a little as it opens, and John B.’s quick to pull his comforter over himself and scramble with his phone to turn it off. He hopes you didn’t notice it was porn. You totally did. But you decided to give him that much.

“What’re you doing in here!” He hisses at you, and you press a finger up to your lips to silence him. His eyes are wide.

“I had a nightmare,” you whisper, sitting on his bed. You could act none the wiser.

“Okay? Go back to the couch, dude,” he mutters quietly. You smirk to yourself in the darkness as you try to get under the covers with him.

“No, go away,” he says, blocking you from getting underneath them with him.

“What’s wrong with you?” You say, and go to lift the covers again. He blocks you once more.

“Dude, seriously, get out. Where’s JJ?” He whispers sharply, and you roll your eyes.

“He’s sleeping. I didn’t want to wake him up. He has work tomorrow—”

“I don’t care! Go bother him with this!”

“Shut up, your room has a fan and it’s hot—”

“If you don’t leave right now I’m gonna call him—”

“Stop it! Just let me sleep here,” you pout.

The window was open just enough in John B.’s room for you to see the pale blue moonlight on his skin.

You can feel the arousal in your stomach as you think about what he was doing. Think about his moans, and his hands under the covers. It’s the sex deprived part of your brain that responds to him.

“I know what you were doing, y’know,” you clarify. He sighs and lays back in his bed, covering his face with his hands. You take the opportunity to straddle him over the covers. He’s still half hard.

“What the fuck!” He whispers, and you lay your head into his shoulder as you start to move your hips, languidly grinding over his erection. He starts breathing hard again, like he was earlier.

“This is bad, get off me,” he says, but makes no move to get you off of him.

He swallows harshly.

“You’re… You’re JJ’s sister. If he finds out…”

The comforter bunches up underneath you and you press hard to feel the pressure  through your shorts.

You move to kiss him, and he responds eagerly. It’s the heat in his room even though the fan is whirring, and the idea of doing something so forbidden, not only pogue on pogue’s sister, but sex in a house where other people are sleeping in various rooms next door.

He’s almost aggressive, and excited. Very excited. You can feel his excitement now.

You sit back on your heels and you strip yourself of your shirt, bare underneath. John B. pulls the comforter down and slips off his underwear that were sitting around his ankles. He sits up and starts stroking the head of his penis.

You watch as he leans over for more lotion, taking a careful handful to his dick. It’s slick and loud again, the way he pumps. It’s obscene. It makes your heart race.

It’s harder to slip off your shorts and underwear but you do anyway, and you’re both left with no clothes and unbearable arousal.

But the door opens and your heart jumps into your throat. You’ve been caught. This, whatever this was, is over before it started. You shield your naked body  on John B.’s chest, your face into his shoulder.

It drops even further when you hear the voice of whoever walked in.

“Oh, shit, get some man, my bad,” JJ quips, clearly high and sleep deprived, closing the door quickly.

You and John B. breathe heavily together in darkness.

“Was… did he see us?” You ask quickly.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Does he know it’s me?”

“I don’t think he saw us,” he says, eyes wide with adrenaline.

“Holy shit,” you mutter, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says, and looks at you.

“You wanna keep going?”

You respond by pressing your lips to John B.’s neck, and he leans over for you, grabbing at your thighs and ass, fisting a hand into your hair.

“We should hurry up,” he recommends, and you giggle softly.

You lay down next to him and you lay a hand over his chest so he doesn’t get up, taking his cock into your own hands. Your hands would be so soft after all the lotion he smothered on it. You apply firm pressure to the head, and pull gently, up and down. You feel his hips chase your hand when you tug upward on it, and your bicep moves with his chest as he breathes.

“Condoms?” You whisper, and his head pops up, no not that one, and he points to the bedside table.

“In there,” he whispers, and you let him take over as you rifle through loose change and pokemon cards and even more lotion, wow.

But you find one, and struggle ripping open the ribbed edge with lotion hands, so John B. helps you. He pinches the tip and rolls it onto his cock like he’s done it before many times. He keeps a steady hand on his cock and keeps stroking it as he rummages around blindly in the drawer before slamming it shut a little too hard.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding you over, and you straddle him again, this time on his thighs, watching intently as he squirts lube onto his palm, groaning as he takes himself into his hand again. He coats it generously, and he takes his hand away, dick throbbing in front of you.

You’re nervous for him.

“Do you wanna… lay down, or…” he ponders, and you don’t know, but you say yes anyway.

He shifts so you’re on your back and you’re waiting for him, your thighs resting on each of his and he scoots closer to you, bed creaking as he moves.

“You ready?” He asks, and you nod slowly. He takes the tip of his cock, and runs from where you were wet for him up to your clit, each time pushing in just a little bit inside of you. You get used to the pace and he takes his time, leaning over you to give you kisses, and it hurts and stings and you feel yourself stretch around him but he’s gentle.

He only goes about halfway in before he pulls out, moving back and forth, going a little bit deeper each time. It’s nice to feel so full, have him so warm and so close when the night breeze starts to pick up. He plants his hands by your head, on his pillows, and he moves a little faster as you touch yourself, rubbing circles into your clit.

His mouth is all over you, your neck, your chest, your shoulders, and when he pulls away, you attack him with the same ferocity. You swear he almost cums when you get dangerously close to his adam’s apple.

He’s not that vocal, which is good for this current moment in time, but you’d have to work on it when you two were all alone. You wonder how loud he’d be in a house all alone, just the two of you, and as you start to pick up speed, so does he.

His hips are relentless against yours, his stomach hard and his balls tight against him as he pushes in and out. He’s about to cum, you can tell by his face, and you rub yourself as fast as you can, panting hard as he pulls out. You squeeze your legs together and he strokes his tip fast, and then slows down, resting a head heavy on your knee as you cum, grinding up against the air, head back in ecstasy as the warmth overtakes you, little bolts of electricity shooting through your veins from head to toe. He whimpers softly as he slips off the condom, tying it off and dropping it on the floor next to his bed.

“Ew,” you say out loud, and he lays down on his side, pulling you close to him.

He pulls the covers over you two.

“Just don’t step on it when you wake up tomorrow,” he whispers, and you turn around to bury your face in his neck as he falls asleep.

THE next morning, you’re sure everyone can tell. You had been prepared to sleep in a tank top and shorts, which you were not going to walk out into the kitchen in, where everyone was after JJ made breakfast. The only reasonable other option was wearing one of John B.’s shirts.

JJ greets you with furrowed brows.

“Is that John B.’s shirt?” He asks immediately, shoveling pancakes down his throat. Everyone else at the table looks up at you, and says nothing.

“Yeah,” you say, and quickly come up with an excuse. “It was… My tank top got all sweaty from last night, because it was so hot,” you say. You don’t know if they believe it, but JJ pushes an empty plate toward your seat. John B. is the only one who doesn’t look up at you. His eyes are locked in on the scrambled eggs on his plate.

Pope, seated next to John B., immediately points out his bruises.

“Woah, who’d you get into a fight with?” He asks, and John B. goes to cover up the hickey on his neck.

“Someone’s lips last night,” JJ jokes, taking a sip of his juice.

“I walked in on his getting down and dirty,” He explains, and the table ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’. Except for you.

Talk resumes until JJ notices the almost identical bruise on your neck.

“Wait, is that a bruise? Is that…” he says, leaning over the kitchen table to pull at your collar.

“Who the fuck did you get a hicky from?” He asks, and you pull away.

“None of your business, stop being weird.”

Kie gasps, pulling her hands up to her mouth.

“You guys did not…” She starts, and your eyes go wide.

“Did not what?” John B. asks fiercely, trying to play dumb, but just coming off as defensive.

“Guys,” Pope chastises, putting his fork on his plate and leaning back in ihs chair to run a hand through his hair.

JJ finally connects the dots.

“THAT WAS YOU?!”

The table erupts into madness.