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toppersbitch · 1 year

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Innocence // JJ Maybank x Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Summary: JJ overhears a convo between Kie, Sarah, and you and decided to take matters into his own hands.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: smoking marijuana, alcohol, teasing, praise kink, choking, begging, unedited work

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The heat of the fire lit your face as you sat leaning on Kie. Sarah sat across, roasting a marshmallow. The pipe was passed to you, you held the light and covered the hole, taking a long inhale. The back of your throat burned, and your head clouded as you held your breath. You finally exhaled, watching it mix with the smoke from the fire.

“Girls' night is gonna be so fun,” you giggled, “Finally we can gossip without the boys.”

“About the boys,” Sarah said, letting out she inhale of smoke.

“Give me more, I don’t wanna think,” you said grabbing for the pipe again. You took a hit, sitting there. You goofily flopped onto your side, letting the breath out.

“I don’t want to think about Kelce for another second,” you had just broken up with him, a year of your life down the drain.

“I don’t even know why you got with him,” Sarah giggled.

“It’s not like he’s even good in bed,” Kie said, staring straight at you.

“Why the fuck would you know?” Sarah asked, a baffled look on her face.

“Woah woah not like that, y/n told me.” Kie threw her hands up in the air signaling she was innocent.

“Wait tell all!” Sarah got up and skipped over to Kie and you. She kneeled and smiled widely.

“Okay well-“ you paused gathering your thoughts, “he doesn’t like foreplay.” They both dropped their hands to their laps, eyes wide.

“Like none at all?” Sarah started at you while hitting the pipe.

“Like maybe like a minute of fingering max,” you thought back to all the times, “oh and he never reciprocated oral.”

“Oh my god you have to be kidding!” Kie threw her hands in the air, “you never told me all that.”

“He’s also never touched my boobs, only grazed by fucking accident,” you rolled your eyes.

Kie and Sarah both looked at them with eyes wide open.

“And I’ve only orgasmed twice,” you smiled goofily.

“Out of how many times?” Kie added a marshmallow to her stick.

“Lik-“ you were cut off abruptly.

“AHHHHHHH” the boys come jumping out of the bushes, alcohol in hand.

You jumped up, terror filling you. Kie threw her roasting stick, marshmallow and all. Sarah covered her eyes and curled into herself.

They began to laugh, JJ falling holding his stomach with one hand and a bottle of vodka with the other. John B picked up Sarah, and Pope dodged Kie’s stick.

“You guys were supposed to come back till tomorrow morning,” you pouted, worrying they heard anything you said.

“Well coming early never hurt anyone,” JJ raised an eyebrow at you. You felt yourself blushing as everyone else laughed.

“Pretend like you didn’t hear please I’m begging,” you placed your hands together flat and shook them towards him. He began to laugh at you, holding his stomach.

“Maybe you should’ve done that for Kelce,” he slapped his knee, and you shot him a glare.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” his hands surrendered.

The conversations and laughs continued through the night, the fire slowly dying as you all stopped trying to keep it alive. John B and Sarah disappeared into the château, and Kie and Pope retired to sleeping bags on the HMS Pogue. It was only you and JJ, poking at the ashes on the fire.

“Soooo,” JJ dragged out, raising an eyebrow, “how are you feeling about your breakup?”

You rolled your eyes, the inevitable topic of the week. You dropped the stick you had been poking around with.

“Fine I guess, kinda lonely.” You laid back on the blanket, laying a hand across your stomach.

“You can’t be lonely when I’m here,” JJ jumped up, dragging his blanket towards yours. He laid down hitting his head on yours.

“Ow, watch it.” You said bringing a hand to rub the spot. You laid, top of head to top of the head. You felt his hair, softer than any hair you’d ever felt. You lost yourself, running your hands in it.

His hand lazily draped itself onto your face, feeling your nose and eyes, and finally stopping to caress your jaw. His thumb found your lips and your hand halted it playing in his hair. His thumb slid across your upper lip, then pushed down on the bottom. You opened and his thumb slipped inside, he pushed down on your bottom teeth as you swirled your tongue around.

He slid the finger out, your lips smacking back together.

“Good girl,” JJ whispered, your stomach filled with butterflies as your body began to tingle.

His hand disappeared from view and his head came back into view shortly after. He had a gentle smile on his face as you sat up. The two of you sat across from each other.

“So Kelce really never touched your…” He finished by looking down, his eyes falling upon your breasts in the tank top.

“No,” you shook your head, looking down ashamed. You subconsciously began to pick at your fingers, trying your hardest to ignore JJ’s gaze on you.

“No, don't be embarrassed,” he grabbed your hands to stop the picking, “some men just don’t know how to please a woman.”

You let out a breathy laugh, your body shaking. His hand moved up from your hand to your arms. Squeezing lightly, his fingered tips were rough and calloused in comparison to your soft and tanned skin. He reached for the strap of your tank top, stopping.

“May I?” He made eye contact, and you nodded. He moved the straps off your shoulders, you pulled the top over your head. You became alarmingly aware of how much skin was showing now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he smiled down at you, his hands laying on your thighs, “here I’ll take my off too.” He lifted him off and you looked up and down his tanned and toned body.

“Come on, you can touch,” he pulled your hand to his abs, “I know you want to,” he smirked at you winking. You allowed yourself to run your hands down his abs, feeling every line. You felt your way down his happy trail, tracing the band of his swim trunks.

You pulled at them, letting them bounce back onto his skin. He let out a gasp and you a giggle.

“Cruel,” he said, his hand moving forward, his finger grazing over your clothed cunt. Your body jumped, and you looked up and saw a smirk on his face. He continued to move his hand, reaching for the button of your shorts.

He began to unbutton them, watching your face as you watched his hands.

“Is this alright?” He asked, you nodded eagerly. “Hm?” He questioned your response.

“Yes, it’s alright.” You said just wanted him to rip them off already. You laid back allowing him to pull them off. His hands met your hips, making you tense and relax. His finger plays with the bikini bottoms. His hands continued up until they were caressing your face, and he moved to straddle you.

“So Kelce never did any of this?” His thumb moved back and forth across your face.

“No,” you pressed your face into his hands, forcing more contact.

“Do you want to keep going?” His eyes met with yours, piercing blue into yours.

“Yeah,” your voice was barely above a whisper. He moved his head down towards you. Connecting your lips, finally giving you some release. His tongue pressed into your mouth, and you gasped for air. His tongue fought with yours in a playful way, leaving you on the edge of dominance.

His hands kneaded every inch of your body, finally landing on a breast. You moaned in response, you chuckled into the kiss.

“Such a good girl,” he praised your noises, and your body tingled again, “tell me how good I make you feel,” one hand moved up to your throat and squeezed lightly, “tell me.”

“Mhmm so good,” you barely responded through your moans.

He moved down, pulling your breasts out of its cup, his mouth attached to your tit. His tongue moved around widely while he sucked. His hand moved down slipping into your bottoms. His finger moved along the slit.

“Please,” you begged through moans. He slid a finger in, pumping it in and out. You moved your hips, wishing to feel more. He lifted his head from your chest and smirked up. He slid another finger in, making a different feeling arise. He began to move his fingers differently, hitting your g-spot. You bucked your hips up, he moved his fingers faster. Your stomach tightened, and your hand gripped JJ’s forearm. You could feel his muscles tensing with every movement. Your entire body tensed up, ecstasy taking over. You dug your nails into his arms, his fingers still pumping in and out.

“One more,” he urged you, his hand continuing its movements. Quickly your stomach released and tightened again. You pushed your legs together, JJ’s free hand moving to push them open, he continued moving his fingers in and out.

“Come on darlin.”

“Fuck,” you whined out, and your leg began to shake involuntarily. Your body is filled with static, an overwhelming feeling taking over your body.

“Good, just like that,” JJ said, his voice gruff and demanding. He stopped, slowly pulling out his fingers. His hand traveled up your mouth, his fingers lightly grazing your skin. He pushed his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself, “so good for me.”

He pulled up your bikini bottoms, his hands resting on your hips.

“Thank you, JJ,” your voice was surprisingly light and quiet.

“Anytime you need baby,” he laughed his normal JJ laugh, laying down on his back, “now go to sleep,” he was using his fake authoritative voice. You did so, watching the stars above you, the view interrupted by tree branches above

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I won't lie this has been sitting in my drafts unfinished for so long(like fr since season 2 was released)! I figured this was the perfect time to finish and post it. I hope everyone enjoys!!!

Find my other stuff HERE

#jj maybank #jj #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x y/n #obx jj #jj obz #outerbanks season 2 #outer banks fluff #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #jj smut #obx smut #obx fluff #outer banks season 2 #outer banks season 3 #toppersbitch

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twinklelilstarkey · 4 months

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Tutor: Dress Picking

Words: 2.4k Type: Angst? Warnings: This is literally a chapter just to announce that I'm back, so, yeah, settle in folks :) because shit is about to hit the fan, but not yet.

Tutor Masterlist

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

Hours later, when stepping into school, you are more than in a good mood. You must admit, you almost got to school late due to oversleeping with Rafe after having conversations that led until 5AM. Your headache has gone away with a simple aspirin, and most of your worrisome thoughts are in the back of your mind, safely tucked away.

You also were able to leave the house with Rafe without his family noticing, and the same thing goes for your parents. You made it home safely, put on new clothes as you had already showered at Rafe’s house, and he dropped you off at school. Your parents would never know of such a thing as they weren’t home when you got there, and you, supposedly, were with a friend of yours the whole night – one they know very well, but have no idea you don’t even speak to anymore.

Almost late or not, every minute of this morning was better than any other. You wish you were still in bed and that today was a Saturday, not a Wednesday. A day where you could just lie in bed with Rafe, talk about life, and get affection. Gosh, you would sell a kidney for that. Your poor kidneys.

You still got a few minutes in the car with him, even though different, it was still minutes that you had for yourselves. A lot of kisses and reassuring words were exchanged. As well as promises that everything will go well and nothing bad will happen. And if it does, he’ll be parked outside as soon as you call, ready to get you home.

Because of this, when the bell rings to tell you to get to class, your mind is still cloudy and warm.

You sit on your chair and stare at the empty page of a notebook while remembering the dumb ways Rafe made you laugh this morning, from the time in bed to the shower. The way his kisses were always soft and warm, and his arms would always hug you tightly and close enough for all your worries to fly away. Ugh, that kidney is about to go.

The classroom's door closes as the teacher walks inside, and the class begins. You lift your eyes off your notebook and notice a bit of movement beside you. You don’t have to look to know. Kristy wasn’t missing school again. She’s in class. In her usual seat, beside you. Her eyes are currently drilling a hole into the side of your head with all that staring, kind of hard to ignore.

Overall, the class itself is very uneventful since school is about to end, and there isn’t much the teacher can do to make everyone still find it in their will to study or work further. Due to this, the hour is slow, and there aren’t many notes that you can take from what is taught and discussed between the teacher and the other students.

In the corner of your eye, you see a small piece of paper being slid over to your side of the table, but you look away as soon as you can. You’re sure that Kristy is better than sliding small pieces of paper asking for an apology or time to talk, but maybe after the stunt that she was able to pull on you in that car... You probably need to draw new conclusions about this girl.

Throughout this one class, you continuously saw how Kristy tried to get your attention by sliding the piece of paper closer and closer or even trying to write a completely new one. You ignored all of her attempts. But also hesitated to check your vibrating phone as the possibility of it being her was just as large as the piece of paper she last tried to slide into your field of view.

The bell rang, and the teacher screamed the small assignment over the loud chatter that quickly erupted. You took a quick note of it in case you forgot it and got up to put your things away. Five different pieces of paper are just by your notebook now, and you almost want to scoff at the stupidity. Curiosity is also biting at your skin for wanting to know what is written in all of them, but you are better than that. Kristy sits there as you put your things away, almost as if waiting for you to address her or pick up her papers.

You slide your bag over your shoulder and take a step to the side to begin walking to the door. You ignore the hand that stretches in your direction to get a hold of your arm (but fails) and walk out of the room. Once outside, your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket, and you pull it out, knowing for a fact that Kristy isn't that ridiculous. The caller: Mom.

“Hello?” You say as soon as you accept the call and put your phone by your ear.

“Guess who just got invited to a party?” Your mom asks excitingly.

“You?”

“All of us!” She corrects excitingly. “Rose Cameron just called, saying that there will be a small get-together with the few families close to the Camerons at the country club. We’re all invited to celebrate your and many others' graduation. Isn't this amazing?”

You open your locker while an expression of surprise is more than obvious on your face. She continues to talk to you all about the details of the party, like how many people, what to wear and what will be there for decoration. You move your books around in the locker to switch classes, and not once do you need to speak because your mother speaks for the both of you.

The call drags out until the next bell calls you into class, yet not a new word has been said by you during the whole thing. You smile at your mom’s rare excitement for a party because, sincerely, it's hard to forget how any event organized by Rose has left your socialite of a mom more than pleased with the range of guests, food, or conversations. You’re in for a hell of a night.

“When is it, exactly?” You ask right as you get near the classroom.

“At the end of this week. Rose said something about it being a great way to celebrate the end of classes for all the graduating students invited.” She explains, leaving you to nod to yourself, “When are you free to go dress shopping?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, we won’t need more than an hour,” a lie, “to find a good dress for you, so as soon as you know a day we can go, call me back.”

“Will do.”

“Now, go to class. Your bell must have rung almost 5 minutes ago.”

You chuckle at her exactness and say your goodbyes before ending the call. Inside the classroom, you find everyone already seated, but the teacher is still absent. You walk towards the back of the class and ignore the same pair of eyes as before - since it seems the person has failed to gain something more interesting to look at lately.

You take your usual seat and think back on the conversation with your mother. The party doesn’t seem bad, but you can only wish for good company during it. Usually, your company in parties such as this is not exactly talking with you, much to their disappointment. And standing by your parents the entire evening doesn’t seem exactly exciting, as the conversations will be quite… uninteresting for your ears, surely.

While you occupy your free time on your phone, ignoring the constant whispering and glaring from all directions of the room, the teacher continues to take his sweet time to appear. Long enough for the guy in front of you to turn around and hand you yet another piece of paper. At this point, trees cry with all the attempts at communication Kristy happens to do.

Maybe it was how annoyed you felt. Maybe it was the fact that all their attention left you as soon as the teacher decided to walk in with a mug of hot coffee in hand. But you opened this last piece of paper. Truthfully, you did it so quick the unfolding and folding back up wasn't noticed by a single soul, and you read it.

Are you going to Cameron’s party? – Kristy

(…)

“Definitely not my color, mom.” You say for the thousandth time while looking at yourself in the mirror of the boutique.

“Are you sure? I like it on you.” She says while tilting her head to take another good look at you.

“I like the style, just not the color.” You admit to her, in a calm tone, nothing to start fights over - as you usually tend to do when picking a dress for a party your mom is so excited about. “The red looks better on me.”

Your mom gives you her usual look, ‘Well, but I hate red’, which only lets you know that this discussion about a dress will lead you to another hour of dress shopping. Nothing ever made you feel as grateful for yourself for clearing your schedule the way you did for this entire evening. As always, your mom is against any color that isn’t light and sweet or any cleavage that isn’t conservative enough. While you happen to like a lot of different styles of dresses and have dealt with your mother’s antics for years, your tastes still tend to clash.

“Red is too much, I think,” she comments, turning to look at the large number of dresses she has asked the worker to get for her. “What about blue?”

“Depends on the shade.” You try to ignore the look she sends you over her shoulder but fail miserably while looking down at the ground to chuckle.

“This one is too dark, I think.” She says while holding a silk dark blue dress with thin straps, “What about this one?”

“It almost looks white, mom. I’m not getting married.”

“Okay, Miss Picky. You pick one, then.”

It went on for hours, but soon you two came to an agreement after much begging on your part and almost on the store’s worker's part as well. You settled on a blue, not too light or too dark, dress with straps (your mother insisted). It has a straight neckline, but due to it being silk, it sits well on your chest. It tightens at your waist (again, due to your mother’s request: not too much), and its length rests gracefully at your feet – leaving you enough room to walk, but not much.

The moment you dramatically took in the fresh air outside, your mom wasn’t shy to pinch the back of your arm for the drama you decided to drag throughout the day. This also helped keep her distracted as your phone continuously received texts from a certain group of people who still are desperate to know if you were going to the party. They made it impossible for you to show her anything on your phone, like dress ideas, without her seeing the messages constantly being sent.

You take your seat on your mom’s car seat and set the bag with the dress inside by your legs, beginning to block the entirety of the group of girls on your phone. They have been asking you for, you assume, the same thing that Kristy had written in those papers yesterday in class: another conversation among all of you.

In all the messages you’ve received from them, you’ve read the ridiculous words of ‘unfair’ and ‘selfish’ all directed at you for either not answering the messages or not speaking to them in school, though all they did was stare at you once they saw you. You’re not sure you heard a single word come out of their mouths the day before or this morning. They all stayed silent while their eyes scanned your every move. It was obsessive, and they were driving you insane for it.

You’re just thankful that you were able to spend the evening with your mom, away from their gazes, as well as for the recent silence coming from your phone now that all contacts are blocked. Now you can finally relax and stop thinking about them and your conversation. But maybe you spoke too soon.

“Is everything alright between you and the girls?” Your mom suddenly asks while driving you both home. Her tone is calm and sweet, with nothing hidden behind it.

“Why do you ask?” You try to sound as calm as possible.

“I just feel like they haven’t been hanging out in our house that much lately. You’re always the one going out to see them,” She explains, not knowing that all the times you’ve gone out to see ‘them’ lately have been to see Rafe or Patty instead. “I sort of miss having the house full of girls.”

You two sit in silence while you simply look out of the window into the night, trying not to make any faces or sounds that could lead you into a lie that will snowball into the avalanche that is your current situation.

“We’ve just been busy, you know? With finals and all.”

“Will they be at the party?” She asks, still unphased by anything you’ve said.

“Yeah,” You assume, yet still make sure your tone makes you sound sure of your words.

“Well, good. I’ve missed talking to them. Maybe we can plan something.”

You almost zone out as soon as she begins to talk about the possibilities of having something cute like an afternoon tea party, or anything along those lines. How will you even be able to tell her the truth? You'll break her heart.

“Yeah…” You look out of your window again, “We could do that.”

As you continuously look away, your mother takes a look at you when stopped at a red light, with her smile still bright and sweet, ready to get one in return. But your eyes and mind are elsewhere - far away from the conversation you’ve just had. She noticed how your tone had just dipped from dramatic and happy to something so different it was hard to pick apart with such a short answer.

Your mother opens her mouth to say something, maybe even question your sudden change of mood directly, but the light turning green was enough to take her attention away. Some other time, she’ll be able to make you talk to her, confide in her about what could’ve happened to make you so moody. She’ll be there to hear it no matter what, right?