#dark!jj

ᯓ★ “dude wtf?”

⋆˚꩜｡ pairing : fem!reader x dark!JJ MAYBANK.

⋆˚꩜｡ synopsis : this req 🫶. ꒰ wc .ᐟ 2.7k ꒱

⋆˚꩜｡ warnings : groping from john b, jealous and possesive!jj, mean!jj ( very mean ), degradation, elicitation to smut post fic, threats, yelling, mentions of alcohol, punching lol, excessive swearing, guilt tripping, light slapping, aggression; that sorta jazz.

    “ john b, what’re you doin’ man?” you giggle, feeling the brunette’s supple digits tracing up your thighs, starting to dip their fingertips into your skin. you can tell it’s john b — or maybe it’s pope — given the lack of callouses scattering his palms,  even if they are a little rough. his voice gives it away too, lacking that giddy childishness the blonde always carries around wit him; if you could only open your eyes and not feel the world spinning, maybe you just visually verify it.

thing is, it’s sorta hard to do that given just how drunk you are. it’s the yearly bonfire, meaning everyone from every nook and cranny of the island comes from the island — you wouldn’t even be surprised if barry was wondering around somewhere, calling rafe ‘country cluhhh’ while doing lines of coke. there’s one person that’s noticeably missing, however: your boyfriend, jj. maybe that’s why his best friend’s inching closer to you on the floor where your leaning against the wooden log kie’s sat chatting on the other end with who knows — you’re unprotected by jj’s utter possessiveness.

“jus’ checking out what jj’s always on about. ‘s nothin’, don’t worry.” you can hear john b’s smirk. maybe it’s because you’re just letting it happen, maybe it’s because you’re so reactive with each small touch from his fingers — i mean, why would you not; it’s not like he’s actually groping you, he’s just skimming over your skin.

you feel a hand snake behind your back, and a leg press against your thigh. his palm’s still kneading into your flesh, starting to sneak his way higher and teasing the hem of your shorts as his other pulls you closer. your head lolls to the side, resting against the fabric of his shirt that smells to similarly to jj, yet so different. if only jj was here.

“okayyy.”

you feel the pad of a finger tip push into your side, feather light, testing. you giggle instinctively, undoubtedly the gentle prodding tickles you over anything else. he adds another few fingers, sliding them around and poking into you to pull out more of those little laughs. damn, jj was right: you sound like heaven had sex with stars and made weird cosmological angel babies. ok, he didn’t say cosmological — big words confuse him, shown by at least half of the conversations he has with pope — but space babies sounds wayyy worse.

maybe that isn’t what anyone should be focusing on, given how dangerously close john b’s fingers are starting to creep closer upwards, and his unsubtle shifts beside you.

“you like that?” he asks, a low sort of grumbly laugh leaving his lips as you open your line of vision — meeting his own in an intimate feeling eye contact moment. it makes your skin ripple all over, but not necessarily in the way that it does with jj; you always feel comfortable, secure with him. with the brunette beside you? it’s hard to describe, but it’s not the same. “it tickles.”

a smirk places itself over john b’s usually friendly face, looking more like he’s leering then anything else. in any case, your heavy eyelids start to shut, shutting off your line of vision to the boy and the general rest of the party — drowsiness and alcohol mixing pleasantly in your veins. you can still hear the smugness in his voice through, there’s no doubt about it: “i bet it does—“

“ow, shit—“ the warmth surrounding suddenly vanishes as the brunette’s yanked up by his shirt and a set of clenched fists, right off his feet. your forced to look — you’ve got to, however little you actually want to — and there, before you, is the muscular build, golden blonde boy who you would recognise anywhere; his best friend would too, apparently: “jj, what the fuck?”

“the fuck are you doin’, bro?” your boy friend retaliates, his voice vicious and harsh as he tugs the other closer.

“get your dirty, fucking hands off of her. feelin’ up my girl like she’s yours to fuckin’ touch? you got me fucked up. get the fuck off of her dude, or i swear ima kill you ‘n’ the rest of your dumbass chickens,” he threatens, half snarls, eyes so full of rage he looks manic. people around start noting the situatio turning their heads to nose on the situation; pope’s among them, trying to step in and bring a voice of reasoning to the conversation. “jj—“

there’s no point in even trying — everyone around knows his attempts are futile — but at least now he can’t be held accountable for trying, right? he’s instantly cut off before he can so much as take another step, and jj doesn’t even look at him when he’s barking back in responce. “shut the fuck up pope. you wouldn’t get it— imagine if he tried to fuck cleo? you’d fuckin’ smash his fuckass face in.”

“jj—?! he wasn’t feelin’ me up—“ you squeak from your position on the floor, suddenly feeling all the more sober from the scene unfolding. “princess, he was drawing fucking shapes on your stomach. he guy was kneading at your thighs like— like he owns them, like he deserves t’be touchin’ ‘em. nah, your thighs are fuckin’ mine—“

jj’s hand balls, tightly. so fucking tightly that little half-moons are left under his skin.

time freezes — the mix of the crowd all around the pogues, the alcohol still coursing through your veins, and the raw rage so obvious behind your boyfriend’s eyes, and now the fist that’s cocked back ready to strike.

everything explodes lmost instantly when that fist connects with a jaw. john b’s jaw. his best friend’s jaw.

spit flies from his mouth. john b’s head goes momentarily limp. the people around you all surge forward, shouting and pushing and testing just how far they can move closer. jj tugs him closer, getting up in his face to connect his knuckles to john b’s face at least one more time before getting pulled off of him. curses spill from both boys mouths, just as pope and kie and sarah go to relinquish john b from jj’s grasp. it’s no use, he’s seemingly so overcome with his fit of fury that he’s still aching to land another hit over the other boys face.

“jj—!!” you squeal, scrambling from the dirty floor to try and pull off the blonde from john b, stumbling slightly from just how much you’ve drank. another punch lands on john b, this time on his cheek, this time with his rings digging in and leaving a deep shape over his flesh. the crowd roars — seemingly utterly enthralled by the scene unfolding in front of them — and pope’s voice goes almost inaudible against the sheer volume of eveyone else. “jj!! c’mon man!”

“fuck,” he curses, finally getting yanked off from the other boy and staggering back. he makes sure to throw john b into the ground, adding insult to injury to where his skin’s already growing pink from the recent contact, and spitting right by his supposed best friend’s face. “stupid piece of shit.”

the crowd’s still yelling — half trying to egg him on to land another couple hits on the brunette, the other half simply joining in on the chaos — because what else are they meant to do? your boyfriend scans at the people still closing in, more then half too drunk to fully realise what’s going on — before his ocean-blue eyes land on you, his feet instinctively striding towards your cowering frame. his hand then painfully latches into your wrist. “let’s go. we’re goin’—“

“jayj, you’re hurtin’ me—“ you whine, complaining about the vice-like grip he’s got around the bone. fuck it hurts, so bad you don’t even register how the distance between yourself and the crowd behind you grows larger, more obvious, the fervent cheers of people witnessing the event falling behind you. jj drags you somewhere, behind a wall, close to the bathrooms, right by that old bench you once saw john b and sarah making out at.

“good.”

“jj, c’mon—“ you pout, trying to drunkenly tug your arm back. shit, wrong move: jj suddenly turns to face you, his eyes still wide with fury, his fingers digging into your skin, his chest rising and falling at an unprecedented pace. “you fuckin’ let him.”

“what??”

“you shoulda seen your face: so fuckin’ smug. so happy. is one dick not enough f’you, huh princess? d’you not love me anymore or somethin’? d’you also think you can jus’ like, throw me away ‘n’ discard me like ‘m a used up beer or somethin’? you actually think anyone’s gonna love you as much as i do? fuck,”

“jj, no it’s not like that—“ “it’s not?”

“then what the fuck was that? the touchin’, the smiles, dude, you were literally giggling at him.”

“im drunk,”

“oh your drunk, are you, baby? fuck, wow, that really changes everythin’,” “get on your knees, cupcake.”

“what?”

“knees. now.”

it’s nothing more then a command, and you have no choice but to fall to your knees in front of him, the hem of your skirt getting covered in dust and dirt from the ground. you stare up at jj, your bottom lip quivering.

he sighs, a hand running through his blonde strands of hair and over his face — leaving defined lines of red streaking across his face — before slumping down on the bench. he looks down at you, tongue darting out and toying with the corner of his lips, legs manspreading like the flood of people aren’t still roaring back at the bonfire.

he extends his hand out, his index and middle fingers motioning for you to shuffle closer. “c’mere..”

accepting the invitation, you scoot closer, deciding to slot perfectly between his thighs, fingers twiddling with themselves in your lap as you wait for jj’s next muttered words.

he smiles at the obedience you’ve so easily handed to him, the look behind his ocean-blue eyes shifting from their previous rage to something softer, more internally passive and satisfied. his head quirks to the side — sun-damaged strands of hair falling out of their place — his fingers wrapping around your chin to gently pull you closer.

“look at you, my lil’ princess. ain’t that right? so pretty. all f’me, right?” his digits trace the underside of your jaw, his rings pressing into flesh and making you shiver from the temperature difference. you know he knows what he’s doing: why else would he be smirking so hard? “runnin’ your pretty mouth ‘n’ flirtin’ with my friends? nah nah nah, i ain’t havin’ that.”

a sharp, prickling pain shoots across your cheek: a slap. 

it’s fleeting, the immediate sharp stab at your flesh — brief, and not yet harsh enough to sting deeply. in it’s wake, it carries a flash of surprise and a subtle reminder of a presence or emotion that pushes right up against that unsaid boundary that speaks volumes.

“ow, jj!! that hurt!!” you whine, your own hand coming to massage the area. it had been so sudden you couldn't have predicted it even if you could see into the future. equally, it was so tender you’re not sure if it would even count as a slap. his digits move back across your skin, chasing away your hand as he thumbs gently over the areas of your flesh he knows must be stinging; as much as you try to fight the urge, you lean into the saccharine gesture.

“my bad babygirl, lemmie try again.”

another slap, this time to your other cheek. it’s still small, still mild, still calculated, but a soft squeak escapes your lips and water wells your eyes, already starting to push against the dams of your waterlines. pain sears across your skin, shutting your vision as your lids press together.

“whatcha think of that one, huh? still gonna use that pretty mouth t’spread excuses or what?” jj scoffs above you, his tone so intoxicatingly condescending it’s hard to believe he loves you. but he always insists it, so it has to be true, right? he flexes his calloused digits over the fleshly stinging cheek, mimicking what he’d done with the other.

he chuckles over you, smirking at the single line of tears starting to stream down your face, leaning forwards slightly to caress your flesh back to health. or at least, that’s what you think; however his following, just as patronising words lead you in another direction. “one more, jus’ f’good luck, right?”

his final — or what he’s claiming to be his final — lands with a sharper edge, rehashing the prickles that had just died down over your cheek. it’s a sudden burst of pressure, a crack against skin that sets in stone what jj feels has no need to be said. the sting lasts longer, a reminder of the anger he’d taken out so viciously on john b.

“why’re you cryin’ babygirl? didn’t hurt that bad did it?” he coos, properly cradling the sides of your face in his palms. the pads of his thumbs skate over your undereyes, collecting the salty tears that had escaped your eyes and smearing them.

you sniffle, fluttering your gaze open and hazily peering up at the blonde above you. he looks so pretty from this view, the light from the distant bonfire still finding a way to illuminate half of his face — stripes of orange and deep yellows flickering across his face, revealing his smirk in full resolution — while the other glimmers with the darkness of the night, scattered lights from the moon and stars playing over his skin. “sorta did, jayj.”

“my bad. jus’ got so mad, y’know? ain’t pretty seein’ your girl ‘n’ your best friend almost fuckin’,” he kisses his teeth, pressing his palms slightly harder into your face. 

“we weren’t fuckin’ jay,” you insist, eyes growin wide and pupils engulfing your irises at the mere thought. the blonde scoffs above you once again, toying at the corner of his lip with his tongue, once again. his head tilts, and his ocean-blue eyes squint slightly, almost challenging you: “looked like it.”

“ ‘m sorry jj,” you mutter, trying to avoid any further confrontation — or any extra slaps — and instead leaning into the warmth emanating from his palms. your lids shut, a soft comfort spreading through out your chest as you allow the blonde to thumb over the stings and pricks. you stay like this for a while: listening to the noise of the party, kooks and pogues alike now over the fight between jj and john b; catching the scent of beer, burning wood, and sea salt carrying in the wind; and locked in place by the mix of your boyfriend's hands and gaze. 

“ ‘s okay baby. don’t worry, jus’ don’t do it again, aight? we clear on the rules? c’mon stop cryin’, you’re good,” he croons, his voice feather-light like a breeze rustling leaves, soothing away any of the fear, anxiety, hurt that could possibly be lingering around.

he tilts your head up, intentionally getting your eyes to open by a sliver — his features prettier than ever, still glowing with the combined light of the moon and the bonfire — before removing his palms entirely. he could’ve predicted your bottom lip jutting out, and the small furrowing between your brows from a mile away, and he's prepared for it too. he pats his hand twice over his thigh, right by your head, leaning back against the bench to give you enough space. “c’mon, princess. get on pap j’s lap.”

without a second thought, you drunkenly stumble to your feet and place yourself over your boyfriend — adjusting yourself accordingly to fit in just the right spot, able to nuzzle at just the right area of his neck — and melting against him as his muscular hands wrap themselves around your waist, your thighs, and ass. his smirk returns, his lips pressing into every inch of skin he can reach and his breath hot against you. 

“atta girl. so perfect, all f’me.”

ᯓ★ a / n : # rather late but at least it’s here ? planning on writing the ex!jj fic tmr guysss.

ᝰ.ᐟ divider cred : @enchanthings .

cw: stalker!jj x camgirl!reader, smut/angst adjacent, stalking, creepy/obsessive & perverted behaviour, voyeurism, masturbation (m.), slight somnophilia, violence but not toward reader, wc—600.

JJ watched from the shadows, hood up, fists clenched so hard they left crescent-shaped imprints on his palms.

You were on a date. Some loser with too-white teeth and hands that hovered too close. You giggle, a cherry popsicle in your mouth, twirling your tongue around it like you knew exactly what you were doing. The shift in your date’s posture. The twitch in his jeans while he squirmed in his seat, painfully hard and trying not to show it, JJ sees it.

JJ had to hold himself back because he couldn’t snap his neck right there in the open. So he followed him home instead. Two blocks. A dark alley. One punch to the gut. Two to the face. Then JJ grabbed him by the collar and hissed, “Look at her again, and I’ll slit you open slow.”

By the time JJ left, the guy’s curled in a puddle of himself, choking on blood and panic.

Now, JJ’s back where he actually belongs: in your room. In your space. Inches from your bed, where your face is peeking out from under your covers—bare and his.

The clock says 2:17 a.m. You’re asleep, like you didn’t just perform for someone else. It makes his blood boil. He stands there, his presence looming over your unconscious figure. His breath is heavy, hard, ragged.

He yanks the blanket down far enough to expose your whole body. “You really did that,” he mutters, voice low. “Licked that thing and let him watch. I should’ve made him blind.”

He falls to his knees near the edge of your bed when you whimper in your sleep. His hands trace your thighs, hesitant, twitching to wake you up, shake you, scare you, look you in the eyes.

But he stops himself. Not now. No, you weren't ready. Not yet.

So he stares down at your sleeping face instead—mouth parted, breath steady, chest rising and falling like you're not breaking him apart.

“Wanna know what’s fucked?” he whispers, mouth pressed to the inside of your thigh. Close but not too close. “He got hard watching you eat that popsicle… and so did I.” He lets out a humorless chuckle.

His hand drags down his stomach, under his jeans. Presses his palm flat against the ache and breathes. Breathes you in, the scent of you, the air in your room, the vulnerability of you so open, so ready, so clearly needy for him. He tugs his dick out, pressing featherlight kisses to your thigh.

He’s silent. Slow. Careful. Hand stroking his cock as he breathes your scent in. Eyes closed, head resting on your thigh, bottom lip between his teeth as he swipes his thumb over his tip, he's already leaking beads of precum.

One of his hands holds your thigh gently while he bucks his hips into the other, chasing his orgasm. The room is filled with his muffled moans. Part of him hopes you wake up, watch as he falls apart for you, smile down at him and let him touch you. Give him permission to kiss you. Devour you. Own you.

He groans, tilting his head back as the coil in his stomach tightens. He imagines its your hand jerking him, up and down, squeezing him, looking up at him with those eyes you use on camera. He moves his head closer. Close but still not close enough, his nose nudges at the edge of your panties. He can smell you, it drives him feral.

He whines as his cum shoots out in thick spurts. Messing up his hand, dripping down his balls, staining his pants. He stands up instantly, realising he's stayed too long. He can't risk waking you. He swipes a dribble of his cum on your thigh. A twisted claim on you, before climbing out your window.

He'll see you again tomorrow. Even if you dont know about it.

your roommate never knew when to keep his hands off, even when you were asleep

cw: dubcon, somno, dark!jj

jj knew what he was doing was disgusting, he knew that it was pervy and creepy and gross and every name under the sun for just straight up wrong. it’s not that he didn’t feel bad but the pleasure and satisfaction he gained every night, jerking off into his hand with the image of you naked, with the pellets of water trickling down you wore greater than his conscious

when you’d moved in,a couple months ago, there was a silent reminder in his head to not scare you away or push any boundaries but he couldn’t help but have a slight inkling that you wanted him to prey, you wanted him to push and play to his limit. the way you would leave your panties laying out on the floor, it was like you wanted him to pick them up and fist them around his dick, inevitably cumming into them

or how you’d shower with the door open just enough so he could see the outline of your tits through the foggy shower door. he knew he sounded like a perv when ranting on about it to the brunette boy, hands flailing about, mumbling about how ‘she’s gotta be doing it on purpose…i mean - wh-why else” earning a questionable stare from john b who scoffs out about him being a full on classic creep

it was so so conflicting, he knew he shouldn’t - you were probably just being naive, your usual sweet mindset blurring the sultryness within your actions but he couldn’t help but use your actions as justification for what he was doing. you would’ve said something by now id it bothered you, right?

but it wasn’t always weird,there were quiet domestic moments aswell, like tonight.

the loud rumble of thunder was enough to make you squeal eliciting a soft laugh from the blonde in front of you, who continued to stuff food in his mouth “jayyy” the slight tease in your whine was impossible to miss as the word left your mouth “lets sleep together tonight” you ask, eyes opened wide and focused on him, leaving him to struggle to understand the meaning behind the question

“what” the blonde in front deadpans, ears in disbelief of what he’s hearing - mind already rushing to the stickiest of ickys

“just hate storms and m’gonna not be able to sleep” you respond and as the words fall from your mouth, his figure visibly relaxes as soon as he hears the nonchalance in your voice in your words - god he has to get his head out of the gutter!

“right-right…uhh yeah- i mean i don’t mind” he rambles, struggling to hide the rising pink in his cheek aswell as the rising boner in his pants. it was going to be so so so hard to behave well when you’d be right next to him, your pretty pussy just a couple inches away, how was he supposed to resist himself

“thanks jay’ make sure not to kick” you giggle before pressing a light kiss to the side of his cheek, continuing to walk off towards the bathroom. he couldn’t describe the feeling in his stomach as he watched you, excitement? guilt? shame? whatever it was, it had to be pushed down until the late night dawned upon the both of you - when he’ll find out how bad he can really be

the sight of you softly snoring in his bed, arms tucked beneath your head as you curled away from the wall, would have been cute if it wasn’t for the raging boner that poked through his boxers. you’d hit the sack quite early leaving jj and his twisted mind alone, jerking off in the shower of all the lewd fantasies stored in his head.

he wouldn’t. he couldn’t. that’s what the blonde repeated in his head as he rest beside you, keeping some distance between the two of you, trying to close his eyes and sleep - hoping his mind could clear before the morning. his large figure slowly relaxed, slowly drifting to sleep. and that’s when he felt it your leg carelessly shifting underneath the covers, grazing against his dick, making it jump.

he was convinced. you were doing it on purpose, you had to be. but when he saw your limp body, pressed against the bed, dead to the world around you, he couldn’t help but groan. what if you were truly so naive that all your actions were done out of pure thoughtlessness, he’d be disgusting- you’d probably never want to speak to him again

but it was getting impossibly hard to ignore your foot dancing around his already hard cock leading a soft groan from him. the call of your name from him falls on deaf ears as you continue to sleep, not aware of the turmoil you’re causing him. ‘god m’going to hell” he whispers to himself as he shifts closer, forehead hovering over yours

he wished he could blame it on something like he’d drunk to much or that he was high out of his mind, but he wasn’t - the only drug that consumed him was the presence of you, clouding his every thought and action. the long strand of blonde that kissed his forehead now grazed against yours as his fingers traced down the length of your body, dipping between your legs, rubbing against your clothed mound.

the heat between your legs was enough to warm him on the unseasonably cold night, thumb stroking against your clit causing you to shift. he panicked for a second, taking your stirring as a sign of you waking up but he was wrong. you were moving because you liked it - he watched as your mouth parted softly, a soft whimper filling the air as you continued to squirm beneath him

it didn’t take long before he slipped your panties off, throwing them to some corner of the room - careful not to wake you. he watched as you writhed at the feel of the cool air breezing against your bare pussy, fingers having a mind of their own as they pushed into you. god you were so tight, he could feel the ache in his pants as he continued to thrust his finger into you. he couldn’t help but watch your eyebrows raise, mouth opening to let out an inaudible moan “m’sorry so so sorry” he heaved out, before adding another finger, watching you hiss at the intrusion.

you were making a mess on his hand and between your legs with each thrust of his and all he could think was how good you were taking it, wondering what noises you’d be making if you were awake - would you grab at his wrist and make him slow down if he went too fast? would you reach down and rub your aching clit?would you whine at him to stop?

he felt a sudden urge, he wanted to kiss you. he wanted to feel your lips against his as he curled his fingers that were wedged deep inside you. he moved even closer, dipping his head down, pressing a sloppy kiss against your lips as he thrust his fingers harshly in you making you all putty in his arms

it was rough the way he pulled out, fingers resting against your thighs but he was desperate, his cock had been painfully poking against the fabric of his shorts waiting for some sort of stimulation. it was bad, it was so so bad but what was worse was that he stopped caring,it was a need to feel your gummy walls sucking you in, to watch your face contort into a mixture of pain and pleasure as he slams into you

you’d understand right? i mean you had to with the way you’d tortured him for so long, how you’d walk around wearing next to nothing or how you’d rub up against him. he remembers wanting nothing more than to bend you over the nearest surface and dick you down like the good little whore you were but how could he, you weren’t a whore - far from it actually, you were his sweet little angel that he wanted to corrupt, the little lamb that the big bad wolf wanted to bite into

he spent every minute trying to savour this moment, slowly pulling of his boxers throwing them next to your panties - making a mental note to take them later. he wished he could’ve been gentle and soft and sweet but he didn’t have it in him that night, he wanted you to feel the ache he’s been feeling.

the whine that left your mouth was loud as the blonde slammed into you, stilling with his movement - soaking in the feel of your velvety walls wrapped around him that left him wanting to paint your insides with his cum.shocked at your still state, deep sleeper he thought- who knows maybe he can have more fun

for a minute he stayed stilled feeling every pulse or clench of your little pussy, he was disgusting! but he didn’t care, what he cared about was how your face would look like when you cum? how you’d look like when you wake and see the pool of white between your legs? that was enough for him to begin drilling his cock into you, the once silent room being filled with his low groans and the sound of skin slapping

“so good f’me… huh?” he breathed out “wanna cum so-fuck so-deep inside you….fill you with all my babies” his pace didn’t falter as you’d tossed against him, body shocked by the harsh and sudden intrusion. his right hand travelled down from the side of your hips to your bright red clit, pinching it softly causing your brows to furrow

“sorry baby…. just needed to do that” he laughed out, head falling down to the dip in your neck, breathing against the skin “fuck-” the blonde could feel his high coming close, he fastens his face getting ready to empty himself inside of you “fuck fuck fuck m’coming” the blonde curses, eyes screwed tightly as he spurts out a fat load inside you, moaning with every slight movement. he watched as you spasmed around him, your own high being provoked by his - he couldn’t miss the way your back slightly arched, he’d bet you were in heaven right now - well atleast he was

Haven't had many ideas for Toxic!JJ, even though he's one of my favs, but here we go anyways, enjoy :D Its been sitting in my drafts, waiting to be finished.. 😐😐😐

Warnings: hitting, kicking, acting like children, falling off a bed.. etc.

It was early morning; you were lying in bed, wrapped up in the sheets of your bed, hiding your body from last nights.. activities. You were half asleep-half awake.

JJ was sitting up against the headboard, his toned chest shining in the morning light: a cigarette hanging from his lips, he was wide awake.

He would cast a glance to you, every time you made a slight movement, before going back to his phone. He exhaled the smoke from his cigarette, before letting out a sigh and throwing his phone on the bedside table, causing it to clatter.

ofccc!! this is fun lol - 80s!slasher!jj

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, violence, jealous!jj, death, slight breeding kink, threats, obsessed!jj, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

you and jj would have never become friends if you both hadn't met while working together at the little fast-food diner inside the mall. he was usually working in the back, preparing the food, and you were usually on server duty. with your short white tennis skirt and the diner polo shirt uniform you could usually draw attention from guys who wanna take you out and possibly eat you, you were so sweet. but there were days when you and jj would both be on cashier duty, those were his and your favorite days, it was basically like hanging out all day side by side.

the fabric of his trunks are still damp with sea water as you grind down on it, the thin fabric of your bikini pulled to the side to ensure better contact. your hands brace his mighty shoulders, eyes shut to ensure focus in the calculated movement.

jj's having a blast, hands settling around the curves of your waist as he watches you squirm, going so far as to press a thumb into your navel to watch as you jump up with a cry. "gonna.. gonna." you shake your head, lips pressing together. "just need to go pee first, then i'll be back, i'll.. i'll be back after." but the motions fail to cease, and your fingers press harder into the muscles you're gripping at.

but jj's shaking his head, burrowing his head into the junction between your jaw and jugular, biting giddily at the delicate flesh there. "just go for it, cupcake. little mess never bothered me, hm?"

but you're so adamant against it, bottom lip quivering with the threat of tears, but he's drinking up the cries of woe with a sloppy kiss, drool dribbling from your bottom lip as his tongue swipes against it. "just do it.." he breathes.

and you do, thighs clamping around the one you're riding, a whimpering cry rolling off your tongue as you comply, urine bleeding over the thick ridges of his thigh, seeping into the fabric of his swim trunks.

beside the warmth between your thighs, there's another type that seems into the apples of your cheeks and into the tips of your ears, discomfiture nearly overtaking the pleasure that shocks through your system with simultaneous orgasm.

FATHERS DAY | DARK SERIAL KILLER! JJ| IMAGINE | BABY DADDY! JJ

PAIRING: Serial Killer! JJ Maybank x Mother!Reader SYNOPSIS: Your plan to celebrate father's day goes side-ways when your convicted baby daddy returns. WORD COUNT→ 400 (its short!) WARNING(S): serial killer!JJ, Dark!jj, Milf!Reader, Dilf!JJ, newborns, threats, breaking and entering, You have a kid, Convict!JJ.

AUTHORS NOTE: someone take my phone away from me so I can stop writing these!! seriously!! so yes, once again this is inspired by a tiktok and wanted to finally write a dark story with JJ.

JJ MAYBANK MASTERLIST | OUTERBANKS MASTERLIST | TAG LIST |

Warnings: cursing, dark!JJ, dark!Rafe, knife play, blood, blood kink, carving initials, degrading kink, fingering, teasing, punishment

Pairings: Dark!Rafe x Female Reader x Dark!JJ

Summary: you boyfriends Rafe and JJ get jealous when they see a guy flirting with you and well.. things just escalate from there lmao.

Word Count: 1.4k

a/n: I really just wanted to do a dark!Rafe and dark!JJ threesome so lmao. This fic is dark though so if you are uncomfortable with knife play, blood, stuff like that then please don't read this.

JJ Maybank Masterlist | Rafe Cameron Masterlist | OBX Masterlist | Navigation

© Maybanks-Luver, please do not steal or translate my work