John B X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Incorrect Quote

John B: I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter “s”.

Pope: *looks over at JJ and Y/n*

Pope: Is it “sexual tension”?

This picture right here I’m unwell

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. 

pitaparka’s masterlist

updated: 2/7/21

*asterisks indicate smut!!

STAR WARS

PEDRO PASCAL HEADCANONS

sex*

when he’s sick

when you sleep with him for the first time

when you want him to choke you*

PEDRO PASCAL FANFICTION

a steadfast heart will conquer - (frankie morales x reader)

you show up at frankie’s doorstep in the middle of the night after your boyfriend gets violent. he invites you in to stay the night.

THE AVENGERS

lock, stock, and barrel - (scott lang x reader)

your dog locks you out of your car. the locksmith who shows up to let her out? is kinda hot

THE PUNISHER

hat trick - (billy russo x reader)

billy’s hair gets a little too long for his liking. you decide to take it into your own hands. literally.

band-aids and bullet wounds - (frank castle x reader)

frank comes home with bumps and bruises. you sing him a little tune to brighten his night.

keepin’ busy - (frank castle x reader)

frank’s been a lot more… tense, since quarantine started. whether that’s because he’s not taking his rage out on bad guys late at night or because he’s stuck in your house without a little privacy? that’s anyone’s guess… 

OUTER BANKS

listen to the waves - (john b. x reader x kie)

john b. and kie take you to the beach with the rest of the pogues. tooth rotting fluff ensues 

coming attraction* - (jj maybank x reader)

it’s pretty hot in the Outer Banks. that’s not the only thing that’s getting hot though.

you’ve got a friend in me - (jj maybank x reader)

jj tries to watch Toy Story with you and takes you on a walk down to one of the old playgrounds in the outer banks

eye of the storm - (jj maybank x reader)

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

hot and bothered* - (jj maybank x reader)

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.

don’t you wish - (jj maybank x reader)

jj is really upset you’re going to college. you hold him before you go.

lazy river - (john b. x reader)

it’s been a long time since you’ve been to a water park. jon b knows this, and wants to change that.

a friend in need is a friend indeed* - (jj maybank x reader x john b.)

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

between the devil and the deep blue sea - (jj maybank x reader / john b. x reader)

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.

sit down you’re rocking the boat - (jj maybank x reader)

you watch JJ emerge from the water like an atlantean prince and it makes you want to help him clean the boat, even if he doesn’t really need it.

WRITING PROMPTS

quarantine prompts

writing prompt #1

allergic reaction prompts

christmas prompts 

halloween prompts

fall prompts 

flower meanings

listen to the waves

request: Okay can you make an imagine where your dating either two of the guys or one of the guys a kiara? And just how cute the relationship between you three would be

summary: john b. and kie take you to the beach with the rest of the pogues. tooth rotting fluff ensues 

pairings: john b. x reader x kie

word count: 1.2k

warnings: cuddle pile. that is all. 

a/n: this is super cute guys. big love. hope you enjoy it :)

The ocean had been shit all morning. Waves had only been breaking at knee length, and the winds had cleaned up but high tide was not looking good. 

Early in the morning the surfers had decided to go to the beach, and since they invited you, of course you’d tag along. It took almost no time for you to pack sandwiches into a cooler, accompanied by beer, water, and whatever salvageable snacks John B. had in his fridge. Of course, at your request, it was hardly hampering to stop at the twenty-four hour convenience store for melon cubes and grapes. 

“We’re not going for a picnic on the beach,” JJ complained in the back. He sat up against the boards that were blocking the door. 

“You like fruit too, JJ, shut up,” John B. defended. 

They waited in the cool blue morning before sunrise, the only sounds coming from John B.’s low playing stereo.

At the beach, you watched on from the old beach comforter you had packed in the back of John B.’s vintage van for trips like this. It was still cold and blue when you got there, but soon, yellows and oranges started to emerge from the horizon with the sun started to come up.

You didn’t mind watching them, boards curving and bodies contorting with the waves that they could catch, but mainly it was them lying around on their stomachs, waiting for one that they could ride out. When the sun came out, you put on sunscreen and laid out on the quilt. A few minutes on each side, flipping intermittently. You only look up when you hear the cooler open. 

“Hey,” John B. says, leaning over the cooler, dripping water everywhere. 

“Hey,” you reply, and watch him pull out a sandwich and tear into it like it’s the first thing he’s eaten in weeks.

“Wabes ‘re shit,” he comments, mouth full of ham and cheese and bread.

“I can see that,” you say, taking a look at the other three islanders sitting, waiting on their respective boards for anything salvageable.

“Didn’t you guys check the surf index before you decided to come out?” You ask, and John B. hands you a beer.

“Yeah.” he says, popping his own top off.

“You shouldn’t be drinking and surfing,” you chide, but you pop off the top and take a sip anyway.

“What ever did we do without you?” He speaks sarcastically. And lets his board fall into the sand. He takes the strap off his ankle and takes a seat next to you on the cooler. He leans down and rests his head on your head.

“Kie really wanted to surf today, so we thought if we came early there’d be enough waves, but apparently not.” He says, sandwich in one hand, beer in the other. The beach was almost empty, save for a few fishermen down one end.

You look up at him and plant a kiss to his salty forehead.

“How’s your knee?” you ask. He takes a look at it. It’s a lot more purple than it was before, but you can barely see any scrapes. That's what you get when you pick fights with kooks.

“It’s okay. The ocean will take care of it.”

You two watched silently as Kie caught her last wave in. 

“Morning,” you greet as she makes her way over, and she bends down to kiss you, playfully shoving John B.

He looks offended before she shoos him off the cooler to grab a water and the small bucket of grapes. 

When one came in, they all started coming in, and soon, JJ and Pope were also back with you, sand caked to the bottom of their feet, ocean water dripping from their hair, boards in hand, strapped in at the ankle.

Kie puts her board down next to you and sits on it, leaning her head up against your shoulder.

“You guys need sunscreen,” you comment, and Kie agrees.

“I’ve given up on sunscreen. It’s a plot by the government you know,” JJ says, and everyone gives him a weird look.

“Are you high?” Pope asks, and he sits down next to you, dripping salt water all over your dry bathing suit. You gasp a little, but he smiles and pops a piece of cubed fruit in his mouth and smiles again, so that it sticks in his cheek like a chipmunk. You poke it, and he starts chewing.

“No, I’m not even kidding. They’re making you buy something that you don’t even need! They just want you to spend money. Watch, I’m not even gonna burn,” JJ says, laying down on the blanket, soaking in the sun.

John B. comes over to you to steal melon from your tub. He leans down to grab some, but while he’s there he plants a kiss to your lips.

“Woah!” Pope cries, and JJ springs up.

“No Pogue on Pogue!” He cries playfully, fully aware of the relationship between you three.

“Actually,” he reconsiders, “I don’t mind if you and Kie kiss,” Pope clarifies, and JJ agrees. John B. wipes a sandy foot on Pope’s knee and he jerks it away. He goes to sit back down on the cooler.

“Shut the fuck up,” Kie says, rolling her eyes halfheartedly.

“But no macking on John B.,” JJ says defensively, going over to sit in John B.’s lap. John B. wraps his arms around JJ and JJ throws his arm over John B.’s shoulder.

“He’s mine,” he says, glaring at the two of you. 

“Damn, Pope never gets any love,” Pope says, and Kie pulls him off his board and pushes into your lap. You laugh and wrap your arms around his stomach. 

“It’s okay Pope, we still love you,” you say, and kiss his cheek. He wraps his arms around yours that are tight around his stomach, and you sit up against Kie. She wraps her arms around both of you and suddenly the other boys feel left out. JJ hops off of John B. quickly and sits in front of you all, letting Pope wrap his arms around him with no reluctance at all. 

“Sex train!” JJ yells and blush tints your face. You hear John B. get off the cooler and take his rightful place behind everyone, arms wrapping around both of his girls, his cold hands resting on your stomach. You can feel his breath on your shoulder when he leans his head up against Kie’s. 

“That means you’re the bottom, JJ,” John. B clarifies, and he takes a tiny shell from the sand and throws it back at him before settling back into Pope.

“Pope, give me a massage like a good husband,” JJ says, and Pope moves to squeeze JJ’s shoulders, hard, in a very rough manner.

“Of course, anything for my wife,” he says.

JJ arches his back away from Pope and contorts his face, before crying out in pain.

“That’s… you’d be a terrible massage artist,” JJ says, and you laugh into Popes ear. 

“You mean masseuse?” You clarify, and chuckles are heard from behind you. 

“Shut the fuck up, you knew what I meant,” JJ says, trying to get up, but you grab him by the hips and pressure him back down between Pope’s legs. He’s not really, mad, so it doesn’t take much pressure at all. Your hands hold him by his stomach, but you readjust them over Pope’s shoulders to grind out the knots in JJ’s. 

This is all sweet and nice, until someone yells, “CRAB!”

The five of you scramble up, wiping sand off of your bodies respectively and jumping around, trying to avoid the fake crab John B. was keeled over by, laughing his heart out as the tide came in.

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.

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.

Bubble | OneShot

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You and Rafe have alone time before life completely changes.

Warnings: OBX SEASON 2 SPOILERS, SMUT (not that hardcore tbh) dry humping, mentions of choking. lil bit of fluff. hot rafe.

this is my first oneshot ever so yea, enjoy lol

•

You were glad to be the first one awake, despite the blaring horn of the Coastal Venture and the morning rays of sunlight peeking it's way into the small room and into your tired eyes, a small smile made its way across your face. You flipped onto your side and bent your elbow, resting your head in the palm of your hand to admire the man next to you. The blonde had moved positions in his sleep, his arm that had started around your waist was now under his head, his right arm spread out beside him with his head facing you. He was shirtless, his tanned back exposed from the blanket being pushed past both of your waists. Your hand went to his back, your fingers tracing the length of his spine and the dip of his shoulder blades, softly tracing invisible doodles until you watched your boyfriends eyes flutter open.

Rafe groaned a bit at the sun getting in his face when he flipped onto his side to try and fall back asleep, your hand moving from his back to his bicep, squeezing the muscle softly to let him know you were awake too. He groaned again, moving his body closer to yours, trapping your arms against his chest and putting his chin on top of your head. You giggled, eyes not tired anymore as you pushed his chest. "Rafe," you sighed, "It's almost eleven." The digital clock on the tiny bedside table read 10:47am. They missed breakfast. His bottom lip puffed out and he opened his eyes again, this time bringing his hand up to wipe the sleep out of them. He focused on you after, sighing quietly as he let his eyes adjust to the light in the room.

You were smiling, your (Y/E/C) eyes shining from the midday sun. Rafe couldn't stop his smile from showing up on his face at the sight of yours. You felt warmth flow through you when he copied your features, it'd been a while since you had seen him be happy. Yesterday was rough. You didn't know the full extent of what happened, all of it had been a blur, and being with Rose and Wheezie amongst all the chaos throughout the whole thing, you didn't really have a lot of information. "G'mornin babe" he said, this time flipping onto his back. You shuffled onto your stomach, crossing your arms over his pecs to rest your head on them. Your right leg swinging to rest over his. "Hi," you mumbled, staring at him. He stared back, bringing his hand up to run it through your hair, from the crown of your head to the ends of it. He repeated the action a couple times before stopping his hand to rest at your neck, his thumb stroking the little purple mark he made a couple days ago. You brought your hand up to hold his wrist, "So, what's the plan today?"

Rafe shook his head, leaning his head back on the pillow, his eyes on the ceiling while he contemplated. He blindly intertwined his fingers with yours. "We're gonna watch a couple movies and sleep and fuck-" You laughed loudly at his boldness, removing yourself from him and off the bed before he could prove his statement. He lifted his head, frowning at the loss of contact. "What?" He sounded genuinely confused. "It doesn't have to be in that order, I'm down for whate-"

"Rafe, it's almost noon, and Rose said yesterday we'd be at the port around three or four," you told him, standing in the doorway of the bathroom that was thankfully apart of the room. His eyes ranked over your body, from the tight tank top that hugged your chest just right to the cute black cotton boyshorts that had a little bit of your butt hanging out, it was enough to make him stir in the bed. He wasn't listening to you, he vaguely caught that you both had to get ready and visit Ward, make sure Wheezie didn't forget anything on board from her exploring habits. He hummed along though, just enjoying the view of his girl. His girl. Damn, he liked that; never got tired of it. Throughout your rambling he had gotten up from the bed and made his way behind you, wrapping his arms across your chest and tucking his face into your neck, dancing tiny kisses across your skin. His nose nudging into your hair when he went to suck another hickey behind your ear. You let him, knowing no one would see it, and not really caring because it felt good. "And," you kept going, turning around in his grasp, the small of your back pushed into the counter. "The faster we do that, maybe we'll have enough time to do whatever you want."

He feigned sadness, blowing out a dramatic breath, "What? You don't want to reenact movie sex scenes with me?" Another laugh came out of you, making him chuckle too. He was joking, he knew there was a lot to do today. The gold and the cross had to be moved, and with his father on bed rest, he'd be the boss of the operation. You would be helping Rose move into their new home. It was all just a couple hours away and he just wanted to live in his little bubble with you for a little while longer. He shrugged, "Fine, I get it. Whatever, guess I'm not hot enough for your nee-" You scoffed at him and without any warning you wrapped your arms around his neck, tugged him down to your level and pressed your lips against his. He grunted in shock before taking back control and lifting you onto the counter, spreading your knees with his hips and pressing his body into yours. You tugged at his hair at the nape of his neck, knowing it got him riled up enough to kiss you harder like you wanted him to. You pulled back too soon for his liking, he chased your swollen lips until your head hit the mirror softly, and you let him get another kiss in before pushing him away. You smiled and patted your hands against his chest, "You, Rafe Cameron, are definitely hot enough for my needs." He smirked with pride, playfully leaning his head down to get another kiss. "Damn straight," he mumbled, not moving away and instead dragging his palms up your body to cup your boobs, tweaking his thumbs against your nipples before pulling your shirt down to let your breasts spill over the material. You moaned loudly into his mouth, arching your back into his hands and grabbing at the waistband of his boxers, all thoughts of responsibilities leaving your mind. You could only think of him and his big hands and broad shoulders. Rafe, Rafe, Rafe. He pulled away to catch his breath, a sexy chuckle leaving him at how easy it was for you to give him what he wanted without asking. Such a good girl for him. He dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and pushed your body closer to the edge of the sink so he could grind himself into your heat. "Fuck," you gasped, moving your hips with him. You don't know how he did it; he was always able to make you feel good no matter what he was doing, kissing, fucking, and now, dryhumping like two desperate teenagers. "Just like that, oh my god," you threw your head back again, this time hitting the mirror harder than before but you didn't care, the pleasure Rafe was giving you overpowering the feeling of anything else. "Yeah?" He moaned with you, lifting one of his hands to grab your neck, "look at me, baby." His pupils were blown out, a sheen of sweat collecting on his forehead while he watched you work yourself over his bulge. He loved the sight of you, a mess just because of him. Your breath labored because of what he was doing to you. The look on your face when he made you cum under him, not breaking eye contact. That is the hottest shit ever. He followed after you, the sound of you gasping his name like it was a prayer making him fall apart. He hummed, pulling away with a champions grin, loving how you shook in his hold.

You shook your head at him, arms falling over his shoulders as you jumped down from the counter. He steadied you, your legs still shaking like a baby deer learning to walk. "You always get what you want, huh?" You laughed breathily. Rafe nodded, pushing back his hair from his face and jerked his chin towards the shower, pinching your waist. "Always, now lets shower. You were the one saying we have to get ready." You rolled your eyes, "Oh, my bad, now you want to get ready," you said, stripping out of your clothes, the wet spot on your underwear making you blush. Rafe peeked his head out of the doorframe, looking at the time, oblivious to your sarcasm. "Mhm, it's 11:30am," he shut the door, locked it, and leaned against it as he watched you get in the shower with his bottom lip between his teeth. "What're you waiting for, Cameron?" You teased, running your fingers down past your belly button. He followed right behind you, your laughter echoing through the shower when he almost tripped getting out of his boxers. "Ready for round two?" He teased back, grabbing at you again. He didn't think he could ever resist you. A little while longer in his made up bubble couldn't hurt.

Beautifully Simple | OneShot

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: You lose your favorite necklace

Warning: alcohol consumption, make out sesh, & mention of nicotine

•

To say Rafe's room was big was an understatement. The king size bed in the middle of it didn't even seem to take up space. It baffled you as got up from your knees, eyes scanning the bedroom again as you huffed in frustration. If it wasn't under the bed, you honestly couldn't figure out where else to look since you basically tore apart the bathroom looking for it. You did another perimeter check, walking to the door and scanning the room from a different angle. Maybe that'll work? Looking over his dresser, you shook your head. You already looked there practically a hundred times. You could have sworn you left it on your side of the bed along with every other piece of jewelry you had on before you showered. The Pandora bracelet with meaningful charms gifted from nearly everyone you knew was on your left wrist, the two rings from the same brand Wheezie got you with her birthday money on your index fingers, and lastly, the blue heart Gucci ring Rafe had given you for Valentine's Day a couple months back. You went over to Rafe's cluttered desk, biting your lip as your heart beat faster and tears welled up in your eyes. How did you manage to lose something so valuable?

You didn't realize how much you zoned out until you heard Rafe's door open, your boyfriend stepping into the room. He had a grin on his face and a beer in his hand and he looked like he was gonna tell you something before he noticed the state you were in. "Hey, hey," Rafe said, walking towards you with his brows pulled together. He sat his CoorsLite next to a stack of papers resting on his laptop before running his hand up your arm and turning you into his embrace. You were shaking. "What's wrong, baby? Why're you crying?" He asked softly and you grabbed onto the sides of his dark blue polo like a guilty kid. He moved his hands to cup your cheeks when you looked up at him, frowning at the sight of your tearful eyes and wobbling bottom lip. "I," you exhaled a big breath, trying to match your uneven breathing to Rafe's calm ones. "I-I can't find t-the necklace," you stuttered out, a tear falling down your cheek and into the crevice of your lip. You weren't one to cry about materialistic things, but this was important. It was the first gift Rafe had ever given you. He used his thumb to wipe it away, realization hitting him immediately and his eyes widened but you didn't notice, your own (Y/E/C) eyes switching between staring at his chest and hardwood floors. "The silver one with your name," you mumbled guiltily. You felt so stupid. Rafe bent his knees to get you to look into his eyes, and when you did, he had the biggest fucking smile on his face.

"What?-" you started but he just pulled you into his chest again, shushing you with a little bit of laughter. His hand cupped the back of your head while the other dug into his pocket. You felt heat rise to your face, whether it was from anger or embarrassment you didn't know. Why was he laughing? Getting another wave of frustration, you pushed at his chest, a deeper frown set on your face when it barely moved him an inch. "You jerk, what is so funny about this?" You began, but before you could get another word out, Rafe pulled his hand out of his pocket and opened it to show the expensive necklace resting in his palm.

You gasped, your eyebrows raising in shock as you reached for it immediately. Rafe smiled in amusement. "Where was it?" You questioned, holding it up between the two of you. You brought it to your chest in relief. Rafe rested his hand on your hip, pulling you between his knees as he leaned against his desk. "It was exactly where you left it," he explained, picking up your ring clad hand to press a kiss to the blue heart on your ring finger. "I brought it downstairs to clean it with Rose's jewelry cleaner. It's been a while and I wanted to do something nice. Sorry, baby, didn't mean to scare you," he finished with an apologetic kiss. "That's why I came up here, to give it back to you." His hands ran up the soft material of your strapless blue dress, before he dragged them back down to rest his hands on the small of your back.

You gave him another quick kiss, giving him the necklace and thanking him before turning around. "Put it on for me?" You asked. He did so and you turned around again, flipping your hair through the chain and behind your bare shoulders. Rafe couldn't help himself from dragging his eyes all over you. You had on little black heels with a strap at the ankle and that blue fucking dress that made him go nuts. He remembered the first time he caught you looking at it on one of the many shopping dates he took you on; you never let him buy you too much, much to his dismay, but when you were admiring it, you didn't think he was anywhere nearby as you had left him by the watches in the jewelry section. He remembered walking towards you as you lifted up the dresses tag, your mouth forming an "Oh" as you dropped the tag and tucked the dress back into its spot, shaking your head. He had snuck up behind you and plucked the dress off the rack, holding it in the air when you tried putting it back.

He smiled at the memory, raising his hands to straighten the necklace that rested between your collar bones. You leaned towards him, putting your hands on his jean clad thighs. It truly was a beautiful piece of jewelry, the simple cursive font with the diamond heart connected to the "E" matched you perfectly. Beautifully simple. You loved it almost as much as you loved him, and you never failed to wear it everyday. "So," you said, moving your hands to connect them with his and taking a step back, pulling him with you to the door. "You ready to go? Because that was the last thing I needed." He nodded, kissing your shoulder as you both walked down the stairs.

Topper and Kelce were sitting at the bottom of the steps, both holding beers and ripping Rafe's juul. They both stood once they heard the couple, Topper slurring, "Took you both long enough" as they both looked up to see Rafe help you down the last couple steps. Kelce whistled, "Damn, (Y/N/N), lookin good-" Rafe moved forward quick to smack the back of his head, Kelce dramatizing it and holding his head as if he'd been shot. "Ouch! Jesus, man, just giving your girl a compliment," he whined. Rafe rolled his eyes, pulling your laughing self under his arm. "Yeah, my girl, keep it respectful or keep your mouth shut, dude," Rafe said, chuckling to keep the air playful. Kelce was harmless, but Rafe meant what he said, didn't matter if it was his best friend or not. "Alright, alright, alright," Topper started walking towards the door. "Let's get this night started!" He hollered, chugging back the rest of his drink as he walked out the front door of Tannyhill, whooping loudly. Kelce grabbed the box full of beer, following the blonde out the door, almost dropping the alcohol when he tripped over his own two drunken feet.

"Fuckin' idiots," Rafe muttered, walking with you out into the night, locking his home behind you both. You laughed, and grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him down for a kiss, tasting the beer on his tongue. It wasn't a short peck, like Rafe expected, but he wasn't planning on stopping your advances. He groaned into your mouth, his strong arms wrapping around you until his hands grabbed at your ass, pulling on the flesh as you sucked his tongue into your mouth. You pulled away just as he bit your bottom lip, moaning quietly when be pushed you closer to him. You could vaguely hear Topper and Kelce complaining about y'all from the car, Topper repeatedly trying to jiggle the door handle open to no avail while the keys to the vehicle rested in Rafe's pocket. Rafe grinned, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, his hand resting on the side of your neck. "What was that for? Not that I'm complaining," he said. You shrugged, grabbing his hand and walking towards the car, "Just another thank you," you smiled, giggling when Rafe moved you in front of him while walking, pressing your back into his chest. You could feel his excitement pressing into the small of your back and your hand flew up to cover your mouth when you laughed again, happy to see what you're able to do to him with a simple kiss. He sneakily grabbed at your ass again, groaning at the way it jiggled when he let his hand drop. "Oh, yea?" He asked. His imagination carried himself away as his hand traced up your figure. "You wanna thank me again later, baby?" He joked, giving you one last searing kiss before unlocking the car and opening the passenger door for you. Topper and Kelce fell into the backseat, the former still chanting how this was gonna be the night of their lives. Rafe shut the door, walking to the drivers seat with a smirk on his face. Rafe laughed to himself, he didn't know where the night would take the group, but he knew it'd definitely be one he won't forget.

Wrong Place at the Wrong Time | OneShot

   Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

   Summary: Your ex-boyfriend confronts you

   Warning: Mentions of abuse, unwanted touching, mentions of alcohol and drugs

~

Keys jingling in your hand, you walked out the front door of Tannyhill, a small smile on your lips as you walked through the homes horseshoe driveway. In the distance you could hear Kelce and Topper whooping loudly, the sound of water splashing following their voices. It had been a good day at Rafe's house; it was Topper's birthday and it had been Rafe's idea to have his party in his backyard. "We'll make it a day to night thing," he had said to you and Kelce the week before, "Have it start at three, people won't show up until four, get people wasted at seven and they'll be outta my damn house by twelve or one." It wasn't a bad plan, especially since Ward and Rose's plane landed back in Outer Banks at 3pm the next day.

The day had went exactly the way Rafe said it would. Friends from high school you all had known for years and new ones from out of state colleges that were just on the island for the summer had come to wish Topper a "Happy fuckin birthday, dude; finally old enough to bang a country club milf." Your boyfriend's backyard had looked like a scene out of Project X; people were packed in their own little friend groups, random dance circles were created when one particular song came onto the speakers that was "too fire not to blast" and there were even teens on his family's dock, letting their feet sit in the water while they blew out clouds of yellow smoke. Drinks were thrown back and laughs were let out and by the time it was midnight, it was just you, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce sipping on seltzer's while swimming.

You were sitting on Rafe's lap when you remembered how far away you had to park your car. You had left to pick up Topper's two cakes, one of them being used specifically for a cake fight that had happened around nine-ish. When you had came back, the streets parking was minimal, forcing you to park a little farther down than usual. The blonde pinched your hip when you moved to get up, frowning at the distance. He was drunk, not messy drunk, but definitely drunk enough where he didn't care about putting on his tough facade in front of his boys as he whined at you to sit back down. "I have to move my car, I forgot I left it so far," you stumbled when you slid your sandals on, steadying yourself with a hand to Rafe's shoulder. He groaned, "Why?" You shook your head, "You know Rose will ask why my car is so far." Putting down his drink on the wooden table, he stood up with you. You quirked a brow, "Where're you going?"

He blinked at you, "With you?"

You shook your head, pushing him back down in the cushioned chair and putting his drink back in his hand. "It's right down the street, I'll just be five minutes, baby." He sighed, not thinking much about it when he agreed. You were on Figure Eight in his home; if it were anywhere else he wouldn't even have been so lenient, but he was as comfortable here as he was in his own skin. "Okay, hurry back." You pressed a quick kiss on his jaw, asking him to grab you a fruity drink before Kelce drank them all. The nineteen year old insisted that he liked a nice cold beer, but after knocking back shots Topper would pass to him when he couldn't drink them, he indulged in his guilty pleasure of colorful drinks.

Looking up from your feet and the cracks in the road, you spotted your white car, but when your slightly tipsy mind processed a man standing at the drivers side with his hands cupped around his eyes to look in the tinted window, you froze in your tracks. The sound of your keys in the air made the man turn around and you gaped at him. He seemed to be pleased with your reaction, clapping his hands in fake joy. "Just the girl I was looking for," he took a step forward and pressed his hand to his heart, faking hurt, when you took a bigger step back from him. "Awe, don't be like that, bunny." You flinched at the old pet name, remembering how he would call you that after you'd hit a bump, licking the white powder from nose playfully. You shivered at the way his blown out pupils trailed over you, wishing you had something else other than a swimsuit top and jean shorts on. "What're you doing here, (Y/EX'S/N)?" Your voice came out shaky and you fisted your hands when you realized how bad this situation really was. You straightened your shoulders, trying to seem less intimidated than you really were. "Heard you went full kook, got clean with the king of Figure Eight," his glossy coked out eyes looked at Rafe's house in the distance behind you and he scoffed, "Didn't think it'd be true. You run away and disappear from me, scare me half to death, and you think that's okay?" His voice was low with anger, and it scared you more knowing he was high, scared you to think that he convinced himself that that's what really happened. You wouldn't let him gaslight you like he had in the past before you built the courage to get away from him. Bringing your hand in the air, you dismissed him in pure disgust. "You're fucking crazy," you told him, taking in your surroundings and bringing your keys between the spaces of your fingers for a makeshift weapon. (Y/EX'S/N) caught you glance at Rafe's house and rose his brows at you threateningly when he watched you think through a hundred different scenarios. "Don't think about it, (Y/N)."

You knew you had no choice, knowing that he was bigger, stronger, and faster than you. As loudly as your throat could manage, you screamed Rafe's name, your terror laced voice cutting through the late night air for a couple seconds before (Y/EX'S/N) ran towards you, backhanding you, a pained yelp leaving you at the feeling of his nail scratching your cheek. Your elbow hit the ground, your keys falling out of your hand, but you didn't have time to register the pain before he grabbed your bicep, lifting you off the pavement roughly to throw your back against the side of your car, the back of your head hitting it at the same time. He pressed his hand against your throat, fingers holding down the sides of your neck as your nails clawed at his arm, desperately trying to breathe in air, but he was too high to feel how deep you scratched at his wrists. He probably wouldn't even remember this in the morning. He used to always question your bruises when he had come out of his high, and you had protected him by giving ridiculous excuses, never telling him he was the one that constantly hurt you. You lifted yourself to your toes, leaned your head back to escape the pressure of his hand but he just pushed up harder, lifting your body almost half a foot off the ground as he used his other hand to help himself choke you out. He was mumbling random nonsense to hisself; "You shouldn't have left" and "This is your fault."

The edges of your eyesight turned black and just as you felt yourself get too lightheaded to fight back, his hand was off your neck and you fell to your knees as you gasped loudly, coughing when you felt oxygen flow through you again.

Rafe couldn't explain the rage that went through him when he saw (Y/EX'S/N) above you in the road, having gotten up and leaving his backyard in record time after hearing your petrified scream in the distance, calling out to him for help. Topper and Kelce followed quickly behind him, disregarding the fact they were shirtless and barefoot as they went to aid you. Rafe didn't know how many times he had punched (Y/EX'S/N) at this point, he was so angry he didn't even remember ripping the junkie off of you. A loud ringing was present in his ears and a fury was in his eyes no one had ever seen before. Topper was making sure you were okay, using his body to block your eyesight of what your boyfriend and Kelce were doing to your old abuser. Rafe had heard stories of what (Y/EX'S/N) had done and every time he promised that it was "on sight" for him if he ever did see him. (Y/EX'S/N) was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Rafe made sure to do the most to him in the moment while he could. The sound of you crying brought the blonde out of his stupor, and he looked down at the piece of trash under him, sweat on his forehead. (Y/EX'S/N) almost looked dead. Blood covered his face and neck, his nose was definitely bent in a way it wasn't supposed to and deep cuts from Rafe's ring were starting to look more gruesome by the second. Rafe gripped his shirt in his fist, pulling his battered body off the ground to make him look in him in the eye. His voice was clear with anger, "If you ever come near her again, I'll fucking kill you," he promised and with that shoved him back into the ground, turning to you and replacing Topper's spot, the other blonde joining Kelce to inflict their own share of pain onto (Y/EX'S/N).

Rafe's demeanor changed instantly at the sight of you. You were terrified, your body pressing into the side of your car to try and make yourself smaller. Rafe shushed you, gathering you into his arms and tucking your head into his neck to get you to avoid looking at the damage he had inflicted. Topper and Kelce stopped their fists from hitting (Y/EX'S/N) when he became unresponsive and through your panic you heard Rafe tell them to drive your car into his driveway, vaguely caught a glimpse of Kelce dragging (Y/EX'S/N) into a space between two bushes. Rafe whispered to you to calm down, pressing kisses against your temple when he stood up with your arms around his bare shoulders and legs clinging to his waist in fear. He felt blood drip from your arm onto his chest, the feel on it making him walk faster towards the front door of Tannyhill.

Your crying subsided by the time Rafe carried you through the doorway of his bedroom, but you clung to him tighter when you felt him place you on the edge of the bed. Rafe gently trailed his hands from your back to your wrists around his neck, whispering that you needed to let go so he could get the first aid kit. You complied, your tearful eyes opening and adjusting to the few light sources in the room, letting your hands sit numbly in your lap. Rafe came back into your line of sight with the white box in hand, and he sat down next to you, putting a finger under your chin to take in the damage properly. You had a long scratch from the corner of your eye to the side of your nose, thankfully not deep enough to leave any kind of permanent mark, but definitely enough for it to ache for a couple days. Your elbow was scratched up from the concrete, staining your skin with semi-dry blood. The worst of your injuries though was your neck. Rafe could already make out the bruise in the shape of a hand developing on your throat, and it took everything in him not to do the same to (Y/EX'S/N), but he knew he couldn't leave you right now, not when you were so vulnerable. He picked up the grey throw blanket on the corner of his bed to wrap it around your bare shoulders before his big fingers picked out the small antiseptic wipes. "This is gonna sting a little, I'm sorry, baby," he fisted the blue comforter next to your thigh. "I'm sorry, shoulda gotten there quicker-" You shook your head, pulling away from the little cloth to look into his sad blue eyes. "You got there as fast as you could," you reassured, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, making sure to avoid staining the soft material with the blood from you elbow. "Please don't blame yourself for something you didn't have any control over," you mumbled quietly, not breaking eye contact with the man that was so obviously in love with you. He just nodded, interlacing his fingers with yours atop your thigh as he moved to wipe the blood off your arm.

A couple quiet minutes passed of Rafe cleaning up the cuts on you, being especially gentle when he wiped at your neck, a frown on his face throughout the whole process. Is this how you felt when he came home after the countless fights he'd been in? He hated how sick in the gut he felt, the thought that he should have gotten to you faster digging into his head. A knock rang through the room, and you looked up to see Topper and Kelce standing in the doorway, both having changed into sweats and t-shirts. "How you doin, (Y/N/N)?" Topper asked, his voice quiet to keep you calm. They walked in as you shrugged, accepting the cold water bottle Kelce had grabbed for you. Rafe used one hand to unscrew the lid for you, and you took a couple sips, not realizing until then how thirsty you were. You urged Rafe to drink some when you were satisfied and he did it just for your peace of mind, raising his hand to cup your cheek in his hand.

"Thank you, for saving me," you said, looking at your friends in the eyes before turning your gaze to Rafe, who was already staring at you. You turned your head to kiss his palm, bringing your hand up to hold it instead.

Kelce dropped his hand onto Rafe's shoulder, "The fucker's lucky that your man didn't kill him," he joked, looking pointedly at Rafe's split knuckles. Rafe flexed his fingers, scoffing lightly, "Motherfucker better not still be there in the morning, or I will."

Topper shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I doubt he's that stupid, he got his warning." Rafe's simple last words to (Y/EX'S/N) ran through his mind again and he shook his head, exhaling a big breath as he stood up from the bed. "Y'all take your pick of a guest room, we're gonna head to bed," Rafe said and the duo nodded, telling you to feel better and rest up before leaving the room, Rafe's door shutting behind them.

You had opened another antiseptic wipe, unfolding it as you stood up to stand in front of Rafe. He held out his hands to you, already knowing the routine and used to the familiar sting as you cleaned his knuckles. He took the wipe from your hand when you were done and walked to the bed to grab the other ones, throwing them away in his little trash can before setting the first aid kit on his dresser. His hand found its place on your hip, pulling your body into his softly. "You wanna take a shower or wait until the morning?" He asked, dragging his palms up and down your bare back under the blanket soothingly. You were exhausted, and you didn't know how you were still standing. Rafe's bedside clock read 1:16am and the sight of it made your eyes feel heavier. Rafe nodded, not needing an answer, "Morning shower it is."

You felt his hand pull at the string holding your bathing suit top to your breasts, and you shrugged out of it, letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and onto the floor with the swimsuit as Rafe opened his shirt drawer, giving you the shirt he got at a surfing competition a year or so back. He knelt onto the floor to open your drawer, pulling out a fresh pair of underwear you stepped into as soon as you took off your shorts. "Go lay down, baby," Rafe whispered as he grabbed a pair of boxers to change into.

He joined you under the covers a few moments after you climbed in, clapping once to get the lights to turn off. You buried your head into his chest, placing little kisses to his shoulders and collar bones as your arm draped itself over his waist. He kissed your forehead, his muscles relaxing at the feeling of you pressed up against him. You looked up at him one more time, your eyes making out the outline of his face in the dark. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his fingers threading into your hair as he dipped his chin down to press his lips to yours delicately, as if you were a china doll that would break if he cradled you too tightly. You kissed him for a couple more seconds, pulling away and pecking him lightly before tucking your head back into the crook of his shoulder. "I love you," you mumbled tiredly, running your hand through the top of his hair.

Rafe admired you, moving his hand to rest on the small of your back. "You're my whole life; I love you too, (Y/N)," he whispered back before watching you fall asleep, him following right behind you.

•

TAGLIST: @rafeseggplant

Oatmealisweird Masterlist-

Obx, Daisy jones and the six, criminal minds, Hunger games

OBX

JJ maybank

I can't do it anymore - angst

gold rush (blurb)

John b

I’ll never let you go - fluff

Rafe Cameron

Why'd you have to break me? - angst (blurb)

Sarah Cameron

Our big day - fluff

Topper Thorton

As the sun sets - fluff ending

DAISY JONES AND THE SIX

Camilla Dunne

Stay a little longer - light angst

Daisy Jones

Coming soon…

Billy Dunne

Don't go - Angst

Don't go PT2 - angst, fluff

Karen Sirko

Coming soon…

HUNGER GAMES

Finnick Odair

Home is with you (blurb) - Fluffy angst

Peeta Mellark

Coming soon…

CRIMINAL MINDS

Spencer reid

Coming soon…

Aaron Hotchner

Coming soon…

Derek Morgan

Coming soon…

all john b wanted for his birthday, was to watch you cum. over, and over again.

he still wore the birthday crown that you gave him as he curls his fingers inside you, working you over once more. john b wasn’t being mean, nor was this any type of punishment. infact, he was being incredibly generous, letting you take each round of pleasure without any resistance. he simply was enjoying the show.

“gonna cum again for me?” he asks through a smile, voice deep and raspy and delicious in the way that only pushed you further to that point. with how many orgasms he’d given you, your juices dripping down his wrist — it was hurting. but the good kind of hurting that sent you into a greedy delirium of wanting more, knowing nothing but your brunette boyfriend and his magic fingers.

despite this, even in your hazy subspace you attempt to withdraw, not wanting to seem too confident incase you couldn’t deliver another. “i can’t!” you shudder through teary eyes. with sympathy, john b nods slowly — all whilst placing his thumb over your nub and stroking it in that way that made your legs shake. your legs fall open wider.

“yeah you think so? you done now bubba?” he lilts sympathetically, the kindness in his tone never diminishing as he watches your stomach tense, drawing you closer.

dumbly you respond “yeah.” with a pout that he returns. again, he wasn’t being mean at all.

“aw okay. let’s try though, yeah? gooood girl.” he croons like it’s just so simple, and for some reason it is. it was like your body knew that whatever john b said to you, you had to listen. like clockwork, he feels you clench around his digits, and your clit throb.

“m’cumming!” you admit in a quiet tearful squeak, panting as you squeeze your eyes shut. he nods slowly in approval, despite you being unable to see him.

“i know baby, iiii know.”

J.M with goth reader hc's

Warnings: Reader is female, suggestive content (its JJ, come on-), witchcraft, pogues macking on each other

Tropes: Sunshinexgrumpy, opposites attract, poguexpogue,

Bree rants: I really want to write this as a whole oneshot, so if you like these head-cannons, please give me some feedback on if you want more oneshots with goth reader. ALSO, read-a-thon is tomorrow, so go check it out, its pinned! I do also take requests, but if you do request something, please be patient, I have a busy life and I am a new writer. AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, I AM ADDING THIS TO ALL POSTS, AND IF I FORGOT IT @brokenwingsgalore WILL PUT IT IN THE COMMENTS. IF YOU DONT LIKE IT, DONT READ IT!!!! Thank you! I love you and make good choices kiddo.

(still dont know how to make aesthetic boarder things.)

JJ! Meeting goth reader at a beach party. Only noticing her because she stood out. The only one wearing a black dress that went to her ankles, dark hair with specs of purple in it, holding a red solo cup filled with some non-alcoholic drink. The rest wearing short dresses or bikini's.

JJ! Noticing how reader groans and rolls her eyes at the music playing.

JJ! Nudging John B, pointing at goth reader, telling him how he thinks you're cool.

JJ! Then telling Sarah to get her man to stop being a dick. Goth reader wouldn't have a clue about this.

JJ! Walking to goth reader, getting shy and nervous as she reapplies her black lipstick.

JJ! Basically recreating the scene in Scott Pilgrim Vs the world where he first meets Ramona. "So, do you like parties?" JJ says, ending his sentence with a shaky breath. Goth reader sighs and simply says a deadpanned no. JJ quickly says me too, despite loving them. Goth reader gives them an awkward smile, not knowing what to do with this golden retriever of a man beside her. JJ slowly and embarrassingly leaves.

JJ! Who comes back to the pogues telling them what happened, letting them make fun of him.

JJ! Who sees goth reader come back to him because her friend told her she needs to socialize. JJ who is ecstatic, while goth reader is awkwardly waving.

JJ! Who rapidly takes goth reader away from his friends before they can embarrass him

JJ! who talks to you and slowly you get out of your shell. Telling him how you hate parties, and hate the music, eventually telling him you liked rock music, as if it wasn't obvious.

JJ! Who tells goth reader he has to go to the bathroom. When in a reality he's forcing the DJ to play the music you like so he can dance with you.

JJ! Who comes back and acts surprised when Metallica, All American Rejects, System of down, My chemical romance, and so on plays.

JJ! Who gets you to dance and has the best night of his life with goth reader.

JJ! Who gets goth readers number at the end of the night, setting up a date with you.

JJ! Who takes goth reader to an old creepy bookstore and buys all the books she looks at with a small amount of money in his pocket. And at the end, they watch the sunset while having a picnic.

JJ! Who falls in love with goth reader after a week of dating because she's the opposite of him. He says, "Its boring when people are like me, the conversations are as bland as John B's cooking." When deep down its because she brings balance to his life.

JJ! Who makes goth reader sleepover at the chateau because he sleeps better when she's there.

JJ! Who lets goth reader do all the witchy stuff to him. Whatever makes his doll happy right?

JJ! Who lets goth reader sage his dick because "too many girls with negative energy have been on it."

JJ! Who lets goth reader put crystals and incense all over the chateau.

JJ! Who is so so so in love with goth reader and loves their differences.

JJ! Who brags to John B about goth reader, because she's into freaky things during bed. (She asked him to put healing wax on her back and he took it as sex.)

(STILL DONT KNOW HPW TO USE THOSE AESTHETIC BOARDERS)

Why is Harry Potter lowkey obx but with wizards.

HOLD UP.

John B- Harry Potter

Hermione- Kiara

Ron- JJ.

YOU GET IT MAN?

Kiara is half kook but shows to be a pogue. Hermione is a muggle but proves to everyone she can fight like a pureblood.

John B does everything for his dad, the treasure? His dad. His will to kill Ward? His dad. The series is about him getting revenge for his father. OH AND HARRY POTTER? THE WHOLE BOOK SERIES WAS LITERALLY ABOUT HIM FIGHTING FOR HIS PARENTS.

Ron may have family (sorry JJ-) but they always choose him last. He’s the funny character and goes along with anything that Harry says. Unless he thinks it’s stupid, which is all the time. THUS, making him JJ.

I don’t have one for Pope since I just woke up and i immediately thought of this. So if you have any more please put them in the comments-

mean!john b ohhhh i need him so bad like he definitely puts you in your place when you get mouthy with him 😵‍💫 just holding your face gently, rubbing his thumb softly across your cheek before pulling back and slapping you. "You didn't like that hm sweet girl?" he says SOOO condescending. you whine like you hate it but your cunt is leaking waiting for him to slap you again😵‍💫

sofia x reader when??