enchantedstarfish

[enchantedstarfish]

Golden Boy

Revenge - kook!JJ × fem!reader

author's note: this fic has very heavy and dark content, please read the warnings before reading it!

word count: 2.7k

general warnings: smut, p in v (first part of fic unprotected, last part of fic protected), fingering, shower sex, jerking off, voyeurism, making a sex tape

dark fic warnings: NON-CON, sexual assault of a female main show character, use of toys, cum play, use of drugs, jerking off, dry humping

IMPORTANT: you can avoid the non-con/dark fic part of the fic if you skip when the break line appears and start reading again after the second break line!!

Golden Boy masterlist

y/n: Can you get me 5 oz of cum?

That's probably one of the worst cold open texts y/n has ever sent to JJ, especially after not having seen or talked to her in two weeks.

JJ: Why?

y/n: Don't ask stupid questions. Just help me.

JJ: Anything else?

y/n: I'll be there in 30. Be ready.

He doesn't want to question why she would need any cum at all, especially in a cup, but he also really wants to understand why. And by the time she gets there, he's barely filled half the cup.

"Do I have to do everything by myself?" she asks when she walks in, completely unfazed by his dick in his hand, and how it twitches when she steps closer. "Why do you need my cum?" JJ asks and she exhales loudly. "Well, I don't specifically need yours, I just need some." "Why?" "For a little side project." "Can I help any other way too?" JJ asks and she smiles sweetly. "You can go back to fucking your hand, ass." But instead of sitting down and waiting for him, she starts stripping until she's standing in front of him in a dark green lace lingerie set. "Good?"

JJ doesn't even lose a single second. As soon as his hands are tight on her hips, he has her in his lap, impaled on his cock and driving into her from below. "Fuck, you're tight, baby," he groans, close to another orgasm. "You can't control yourself, can you?" she admonishes, and he nods absentmindedly before kissing her and filling her with his seed. His hand finds her tit and starts squeezing, harsh and bruising. "JJ, wait," she stops him before he can go and turn them around. Before he can fuck her senseless just 'cause he wants to. "I'll tell you everything, just wait," she begs, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Explain."

"There's this girl—" "Not interested. You're mine," JJ states, dipping his head and biting her tit. She jolts up and whimpers, pulling on his hair to make him stop. "She's a bitch, JJ." His head perks up at her words, eyebrows knitting together. "Who is she?" "Her parents own that nasty restaurant by the port. She pretends to be a Pogue, but her house is only two blocks down from mine. And she's Nina's friend," y/n says and JJ smirks. "So what's the plan?" "You don't even know why," she giggles when his lips travel up her neck to her ear, finding that sweet spot and making her squirm and bite back a moan. "I don't need to know more, love." His fingers are digging into her hips, moving her up and down his length as if she was nothing but a toy for him. "You will want to, because you will hate my alibi," she whispers, biting her lip when his cock hits that spot inside her. JJ looks grim, "tell me." "I'll fuck Rafe. He won't be able to keep his blabbing mouth shut around his dumb friends. No one will believe her. I wouldn't believe her," y/n says and JJ nods reluctantly. "What are you going to do?" But instead of answering his question, she pushes him to lie on his bed and starts fucking herself with his cock. Hands perched on his chest, nails digging into his flesh, while their moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room…

"You still haven't told me." JJ is sitting up in his bed, naked and sweaty, while y/n stands to go to the bathroom. "Any girl's worst nightmare," she smiles and leaves him alone. JJ never thought y/n to be that cruel, especially with how she treated him every time he did something similar. He goes to meet her under the shower, pressing himself into her back before kissing her shoulder. "If we do this, you'll promise to have dinner with me," he murmurs against her neck. "Deal," y/n smiles, turning in his hold. "But it's my play. My rules. You're just the assistant." "Deal." The word rumbles out of him, deep and with a certain gravel to it that makes her squirm. And she squirms even worse when his fingers graze over her cunt. Her lips part in a silent moan as he pushes his digits into her. He's slow and deep and has the perfect angle, curling and dragging his fingers through her cunt like he's the only one who knows how. She's staring directly in his eyes, pupils wide, so wide there's barely any color left around them. It's almost too erotic and nothing like anything they've done before. Too intimate. When she comes, convulsing around his fingers and moaning into his mouth in a sloppy kiss. JJ likes it. He never thought he would, but he does. Having the ability to bring her pleasure is more gratifying than using her simply for his own gain.

By the time they are done it's already dark outside, and they have to hurry to be at the Carrera home on time. The house is wrapped in tranquility, no lights on and everyone is soundly asleep in their beds when JJ picks the lock and y/n deactivates the security system with a code she got from Kiara's ex.

"What now?" JJ asks as they stand in front of the girl's bed, but y/n is already holding a syringe in her hand. "Hold her down," she orders and JJ does as promised. "What did you give her?" "Just something to make sure that if she wakes up she won't be able to fight us," y/n shrugs, pulling her ski mask down, so JJ does the same. "Just cause you think I do this all the time— I actually have never done this. At least not like this," he complains while watching her take the girl's clothes off. "Fake hippie," y/n snorts a laugh while looking at the clean-shaven cunt of her victim. JJ feels a little helpless when he watches y/n pull a massive dildo out of her backpack and ready it with lube, before squirting some more onto the girl's private parts. "How's that supposed to fit?" he asks quietly. "It's supposed to hurt." "Why exactly are we doing this again?" "She went around and told everyone I was a whore," y/n grits her teeth while holding the head of the toy against the girl's cunt, "she spray-painted my boat," the toy pushes in half an inch and the girl squirms, "then she spray-painted my car," another half inch and her eyes start fluttering, "and then she spray-painted my home." The girl's eyes shoot wide open, but she can't move, and her screams remain as silent as the night. "That's what you get for messing with the wrong girl," y/n hisses and drops the toy. She grabs her bag and pulls another syringe out, "give her this and she'll be back to sleep in no time." "Yes, ma'am," JJ mumbles, taking whatever poisonous cocktail y/n mixed up and injecting it into the girl's main artery. She goes slack a few seconds later.

"You're doing it wrong, you know," JJ says after watching y/n repeatedly attempt and fail to thrust the toy into the girl. "It's my first time assaulting someone, sorry that I'm not as pro at it as you, jerk," she grumbles, and he lets out a laugh. "Let me show you." JJ places himself behind her. His hand wraps around hers that is holding the toy, while the other comes up to the girl's clit. "You gotta be gentle at first. Bodies are like well-tuned instruments," JJ whispers in y/n's ear, and with a few strokes of his thumb over the girl's clit, they manage to burry half the length of the toy in her cunt. "Now just fuck her like you would any other girl," he says and wants to step away, but y/n wraps her hand around his and pulls him back. "Can you help me?" she asks quietly and he nods a yes. His hands go to her hips, holding her steady for a moment before he pulls the girl closer. "Hold the toy to your hips like it's part of you," he instructs and y/n follows. Her hand is holding the base of the toy to her crotch while the tip of it remains inside the girl. "Now just do what I do," he whispers once more before thrusting forward against her ass. It takes a few mistrials, but by the tenth thrust they have found their rhythm and JJ has to hold back from moaning while his hard cock, restricted by his pants, is rubbing against y/n's ass. "This shit turns you on?" she asks with a giggle and he nods. "Can't help it. You're so hot, baby," he grunts against the shell of her ear. "You wanna come? Wanna make a mess," she teases him, and he can't help himself. The low "yes" escapes his lips. Thirty seconds, that's how long it took y/n to pull JJ's cock out of his pants and jerk him off to come right onto the girl's thigh. "Shit, she's gonna be pissed," y/n laughs while JJ stumbles backwards. His knees are weak and his breathing labored. "Gimme the cup," y/n demands. She's thrusting the dildo at a faster, most likely bruising pace now. But he hands her the cup anyway, and then he watches her dump all of his collected cum onto her body and her sheets. "Doesn't that look just beautiful?" she asks and let's go of the toy, not even pulling it from the girl's pussy, as if it was a gift. "What?" y/n asks while cleaning off her hand with wet wipes and throwing them in the trashcan by Kiara's desk. "Nothing," JJ shakes his head, but it's not nothing. It's definitely not nothing to watch the girl you might be growing feelings for do something so vile so nonchalantly. "We have to meet Rafe now," y/n reminds JJ before walking out without him, expecting him to follow. With a last glance at the girl and a quick picture for evidence, he makes his way outside and meets y/n already ready to leave on her boat.

"What if she goes to the police? You left evidence, my evidence, at the scene?" JJ runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on it while staring at y/n as she's calmly driving the boat. "She won't. And if she does, we'll have an airtight alibi, and you forget that my dad is the best lawyer on this fucking island." "What do you mean we?" JJ gulps, but she simply smiles and keeps driving.

They make it to the Cut in no time, walking over an old, rotten pier towards Barry's trailer. "Shit, princess, didn't think you'd actually show up here," Barry slurs and laughs. "Is he inside?" y/n asks and as soon as Barry nods, she hands him an envelope filled with cash. "Pleasure doing business with you." He salutes and gets on his bike, driving off to God knows where. "Rafe?" y/n yells while walking inside, finding him with his head lying on the kitchen table, half a line of coke right by his nose. "Wake up, asshole," she yells and kicks his foot. Rafe's head shoots up, and his eyes fix on JJ. "What's he doing here? That wasn't part of the deal." "It is now," JJ growls. He likes his best friend, he truly does, but he has never even considered letting him close to y/n. She was off limits. "I hope you're cleaned up," y/n scoffs while eyeing him. "Showered this morning," Rafe smiles, bearing his white teeth. "If this turns into a threesome, I'm out." He holds his hands up and y/n rolls her eyes. "Fuck off. You can be glad I even let you do anything at all," JJ hisses and y/n laughs loudly. "Okay, first of all, I'm the decision maker here. Second of all, you have no right to raise any claim over me or my body. Understood?" JJ gulps but nods. Of course, he knows that. But he has also always been under the impression that y/n only exists for him and no one else. She was his first and his always. A constant in between everything that keeps changing. "We're doing this or what?" she asks and leaves for the bedroom.

Barry cleaned up just enough to not make it too obvious that they are in his trailer. He changed the sheets as y/n requested and put up the tripod she had ordered. "I still don't get why he's here," Rafe complains silently. He is standing too close to y/n, his fingers twirling a curl of hers while her eyes are fixed on his. "I wanna make him jealous. You're supposed to be the best at that, aren't you?" Her lies are like honey and Rafe is the fly that gets stuck in it. He nods, his eyes trailing over to where JJ is sitting, gritting his teeth. "You won't ever wanna go back to him after you had me," Rafe lulls and y/n smiles sweetly. "Of course not, Rafe."

It's pure agony for JJ, having to watch how his y/n is kissing Rafe, how she touches him through his briefs and how his fingers— "I don't think that's necessary. You can just fuck and get it over with," he interrupts and y/n gives him a mean glare. "Just make sure the camera is recording." And he does what he's told because, at least when he's looking through the lens, he can pretend it's not actually y/n but just someone who looks a lot like her. Someone who sounds a lot like her when Rafe pushes her legs apart and slides into her tight cunt. And then he's hard again, and he can't help it. Sitting back down in the chair, JJ pulls his hard cock from his pants and starts fucking his fits while the girl he would rather be defiling is getting railed by his best friend. "JJ," y/n whimpers, her eyes fixed on his cock, biting her lip and closing her legs around Rafe's waist. Maybe it's not what any of them wanted to happen, but at least this way JJ knows she won't be disappointed because he's there to help her out. His strokes get faster and meet Rafe's pace, imagining himself in the other man's space as if JJ hadn't spent most of the day already fucking his hand to the thought of the same girl he is thinking about now. The same girl he was watching now. "Oh God, I'm gonna come," y/n moans, her head still turned to JJ, but her eyes are screwed shut. "Fuck, she's tight," Rafe grunts, dragging his cock out of her cunt and slamming back in like it's nothing. The squelching sound and her scream of pleasure make JJ erupt in his hand, spilling his load onto his pants and the floor in front of him while y/n is panting heavily. "God! Fuck! Shit!" Rafe yells before falling down on top of y/n. She starts petting his back awkwardly while looking at JJ.

The camera was turned off and vanished in y/n's bag before she starts to get dressed again. "This was fun," she smiles at Rafe and holds her hand out for him to shake it. "I hope we never have to do this again." "I'm always open—" "Won't be necessary, bro," JJ interrupts Rafe almost immediately. He wraps his arm around y/n and kisses her temple, marking his territory. "I'm not gonna tell anyone I had a threesome with my best friend, that's crazy." "I know, that's why we filmed it," y/n smiles. "Have a great night, Rafe," she blows him a kiss and leaves, JJ right on her tail. "What do we do now?" he asks while they are walking back to her boat. "Now we leak a sex tape," y/n smiles proudly but when she wants to keep walking she's yanked back into JJ's arms, and he kisses her with so much fervor that she stumbles backwards when he lets go off her again. "Let's leak a fucking sex tape, baby. Woo-hoo!" JJ hollers into the night before jumping onto the boat and driving off, back towards home.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @atimynk @rafesteddy @myst1callz @sweetieheaers @chuuuchuuutrain @starfxkrinc

[enchantedstarfish]

Golden Boy

Girlfriend - kook!JJ × fem!reader

author's note: I've found my flow when it comes to these two. this time they are clearly not good for another, but they don't or won't stop anyway...

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut, p in v (unprotected), cheating, mirror sex, bickering, fighting, getting caught, usage of slurs towards queer people (mostly lesbians), talk about marriage

Golden Boy masterlist

When JJ spots y/n she's smiling, almost beaming, while talking to someone he doesn't know. Her body is wrapped in a white dress that flows over her silhouette like water. She takes her hand up to hide a loud, open-mouthed laugh while the other hand is holding onto—her entire arm is wrapped around the waist of a girl. Tall, dark hair, beautiful smile with perfect teeth. How did he not notice the girl?

JJ avoids the crowds, only spying to see when he can get y/n alone, until it finally so happens that she has to leave for the kitchen. "Fancy seeing you here," JJ quips, and her head shoots up, her hand loses control of a candle, and it lands lopsided in the cake's frosting. "What the fuck are you doing here?" y/n growls. JJ is sure there's fire behind those pretty eyes, but it's not the kind he hoped for. "You know me. I'd never miss a party." He smiles slyly, and she takes a step towards him. "Get the fuck out. You were not invited. Leave!" "Why so harsh, princess?" He tilts his head while looking down at her, fists balled by her side and nose flaring. "You're a selfish bastard and an asshole. Leave." "I wanted to talk to you." JJ keeps standing even when she pushes against him, trying to remove him by force. "I'm gonna chop off your dick and cut it in tiny pieces if you don't get the fuck out," she hisses, and he has to chuckle. "That's a good idea, but first I'd like to talk. Maybe you'll change your mind about the future of my dick afterward." "You wanna talk? Fine. Let's talk about how you said you'd text me and then ghosted me for a month." "I had shit going on," JJ shrugs. "Oh, you had shit? Go fuck yourself, JJ." "Yeah, fine, you got me. I didn't want to talk—" he draws quotation marks in the air—"because I don't know what the fuck that was… what we did." "I'm not interested anymore. You can leave. I don't give a flying fuck what you realized. I'm off the market for a long time." She seems almost proud to have evaded him so easily. "Who?" JJ's eyes darken, his jaw is taut, and his fists are balled. "I have a girlfriend, JJ, and I'm not gonna do anything that ruins this. I like her. She likes me—" y/n turns her head and snorts a laugh. "You know what? This is complete bullshit. I don't have to tell you why I'm choosing Nina over you. She's my fucking girlfriend and not some guy who thinks he has a claim on me just because we used to fuck once in a while." "Nina Voller?" JJ cocks a brow, and y/n folds her arms over her chest. "Yes, Nina fucking Voller. Because she likes kissing me just for it. Because she likes hanging out with me besides sex and trauma bonding. Because she likes me and doesn't just wanna fuck me." "My bad, I didn't know you were already in love with that dyke." He holds his hands up in defense, and y/n pushes against him, making him stumble backwards a few steps. "Don't fucking call her that!" "It's the correct term. She's a dyke, and Brandon's a fucking faggot, thank God for that. Have you seen his ass?" "I hate you," y/n shakes her head in disbelief and goes back to sticking the remainders of the nineteen candles into the cake. "Guess I'll leave then." JJ takes a few steps back, but when she refuses to react to him, he's gone.

Yet he stays at the party, once again keeping to the shadows while watching y/n play the perfect girlfriend who has a perfectly normal life with a perfectly normal girl by her side. He watches how Nina blows out her candles and how she kisses y/n so openly and without any shame. He watches them laugh and how completely enamored they seem with each other, and he hates every second of it. If he was dumber, he would split the crowd, hook his phone up to the big screen, and show everyone in attendance how good of a fuck y/n is. But he's not dumb, so he has to reserve that strategy in case his plan doesn't work out.

The next time JJ catches her is when she's walking upstairs, alone. He catches up with ease and wraps his arm around her biceps. Y/n gasps but doesn't try to shake him off either; instead, she stands still and lets him tug on her for a moment. "I'm not doing this. Leave me alone, JJ, please." "I don't care," he spits and drags her behind himself until he finds a door that has glittery letters on it that could spell the name Nina if they had been put in the correct order. "JJ, stop." A tear is rolling down her cheek, but all he does is stare at the door. "Who the fuck did that?" "Her sister is in her creative phase. She's six years old. Let it go, please." Usually JJ likes when y/n begs, but not like this. "I came here to talk, and that's what's gonna happen, princess." He rips the door open and forces her inside. Y/n goes to sit on the bed. Sage green pillows and duvet cover. Mahogany bed frame. Lilac walls covered in pictures. "What do you wanna talk about?"

"Does she know?" JJ is leaning against the door, making sure she can't run off. "Does who know what?" "Does Nina know that we fucked?" "She doesn't need to know," y/n shakes her head, and JJ disagrees, but he doesn't tell her that. "Does she fuck you? Here? On that bed?" he asks, and y/n looks away, swallowing hard. "That's none of your business." "Does she know what you taste like? What you feel like?" He's stepping closer, hovering in between her and the door. "We're not there yet," y/n admits, looking down at her hands, folded in her lap. "But that's still none of your business." "What a shame," he tsks, standing above her. He brings his index to her chin and slowly forces it up so she has no choice but to look at him. "I don't mind that you have a girlfriend, baby." "I mind. Please don't do this," she whispers, staring back at him with a quivering lip. "Do what?" "Don't force me into cheating on her. She's too good. Please don't do that." "You should've thought of that before you fucked with my head." Y/n pushes away from him and stands, but she doesn't even try to leave the room.

"Don't you see? I was trying so hard, and I was waiting because I thought that maybe one day you'd stop being so afraid of commitment and you'd finally ask me to be more than just fuck buddies," she sounds defeated and broken. "I like what we had going. What? You want me to take you out on a date?" JJ scoffs, and y/n shakes her head. "No, I don't wanna turn into another one of your date rape accomplishments." "Strong words there, missy. All of them said they were down for it-" "After you coerced them?" "Persuaded." "It doesn't matter. I'm done with this. You don't want a girlfriend; that's fine. But one day, you'll come by because your mom said you should take a look at your future and pick a good wife, someone with a name and standing, someone who doesn't entirely hate you maybe. But by that time I'm already married with the third kid on the way because I do not have time to choose, JJ. I can do what I want now, and until I have my degree, after that- Shit, he'll probably have me marry Topper for his connection to the judge. Do you want that? I don't." "Why would you marry Topper?" JJ furrowed his brows and scrunched his nose. "Because I won't have a choice unless someone better, with a better name and a better standing, comes along and makes me his little wife. And then my law degree will be for nothing because I'll be a housewife who drinks herself to death, hates her husband, and loves her kids, who are brats and assholes." "That's bleak." "It's the truth." "So what's this then? It's not like she can give you kids and all that." JJ waves his hand around, gesturing at both nothing and everything. "It's me spending my youth like I see fit because it's the only time I'm free."

"But she doesn't even fuck you," JJ laughs, running the palm of his hand down his face. "I don't care," she lies, and his eyes narrow. "So you get a girlfriend who doesn't even wanna touch you while—fuck, while you look like you do—to spend, no, to waste your time being happy?" "Maybe that's exactly what I want. Have you considered that? I don't wanna be some side chick. I don't wanna have to fend off assholes who then call me a bitch. I want security. I need security," she argues, and JJ does get it; he understands because of his mother. "I don't know," he shakes his head and turns around. "Can I go? Or is there anything else you so desperately need me to know?" Her voice is soft and quiet, but it doesn't help him understand what he should say, should feel, or should do any better. He doesn't say anything until he hears the door open behind him, but it doesn't close. "It's better this way," y/n sighs. It's a split-second decision to leap over and slam the door shut, but he doesn't have to decide to kiss her; he simply does it. His lips move against hers; it's like kissing a steady pillow. His hands squeeze her ass, and she gives in, finally kissing him back and slowly winding her arms around his neck. "One last time," JJ pants into her mouth, and she nods, somewhat unknowingly.

There's a mirror positioned diagonally from the door. One kiss after the other, JJ guides y/n in front of it, turning her around in the last moment and kissing her neck. "You make me crazy, princess," he growls in her ear, bunching up her dress and holding it at her waist. She puts her hands in her back, fumbling with his zipper but ultimately pulling his cock from its confinements and her slip to the side. "A farewell. That's all," she says but whimpers as soon as his dick slides through her slick folds. "Bend over for me, baby, just a little bit," JJ instructs, and she arches her back, standing up on her toes. With the dress now bunched right under her tits, y/n has a clear picture of JJ teasing her with his length. The red, leaking tip of his cock bumps against her clit, and her eyes roll back for a second. "Can you be quiet for me, love?" JJ's breath is hot against her ear, but she nods, and finally he lets himself slide into her wet, pulsating cunt. "Oh God," y/n gasps, slapping her own hand over her mouth. "You fucking missed me, didn't you?" It's not a question but a simple fact. Of course she did. She has to. He knows it from the way she's already creaming around his length, letting a white ring form around his base. JJ can't take his eyes off her, how her face contorts and her eyes keep drifting down to where he's pounding into her. She's so close to her climax she forgets to keep quiet. "Please- harder, JJ- fucking God," she moans and grunts and turns her head around to kiss him, open-mouthed and sloppy, spit dribbling down her chin and pooling in the crevice between her boobs. They are both too focused on each other to notice the heavy steps in the hallway. The steps that get louder with every passing second until they stop—

JJ's eyes drift to the side of the mirror, catching Nina staring at them, and he smirks. "You can let go now, baby," he whispers into y/n's ear, and she crashes down. Screaming his name and squeezing the life out of him while his hand is wrapped around her throat to keep her upright. "Open your eyes, princess. Look at you," he orders, and she does, but what she hadn't expected was for her girlfriend's mirroring image to be looking at her. Nina gulps and turns to leave while JJ finishes and pumps her girlfriend full of his cum, just like he had done since he first learned how to have sex.

Y/n is a sweaty mess when she runs after Nina, begging her to stop and listen to whatever lie she was cooking up in her head. "It's not like that—" she stops and reconsiders, because it truly was like that; there was no denying it. "He coerced me, okay? I didn't even want to." Half a lie. Quarter a lie, maybe. She knows saying no wouldn't have helped, but she hadn't said no… "I don't care! You fucking bitch! Who cheats on their partner on their birthday? In her fucking bedroom? You're sick, y/n!" Nina yells at her, but her eyes dart away from y/n and towards JJ, who is slowly coming down the stairs. Nonchalant. Too nonchalant. Nina takes a glass of whiskey from the table next to her and throws it in his direction, but he evades it, looking down at the whiskey that starts to run down the stairs where the glass had smashed. "I should've known better than to date a bi girl. You fucking whore!" Y/n's face is tear-stained when JJ manages to sneak a look at her. "Slow down there, carpet muncher. It's not her fault you don't wanna fuck her," he speaks up. "I mean, you didn't even try, did you? Your loss. She's got amazing skill in that tongue, I tell'ya that much." The slap that follows comes from his right, and it stings just a smidge. "You're an asshole," y/n laughs in his face before turning around and walking off, slamming the front door behind herself and leaving them all staring after her. "Wow," JJ sighs, a smile forming on his face before turning to look at Nina one last time. "I would ask you what her ring size is, but you wouldn't know 'cause you never even had her fingers up your dried-out cunt."

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @atimynk @rafesteddy @myst1callz @sweetieheaers @chuuuchuuutrain @starfxkrinc

[enchantedstarfish]

Golden Boy

Trial Kiss - kook!JJ × fem!reader

author's note: a small continuation of The Girl

word count: 1.4k

warnings: making out, mentions of drugs, getting caught

Golden Boy masterlist

"Why can't it be both?" Doe eyes stare at him. Burrow themselves into his soul where he doesn't think they belong. But it can't be both because he doesn't want to. He doesn't like the way couples act. He doesn't like the idea of being bound to someone and not being free in every imaginable way. He doesn't like the way she looks at him now because it makes his stomach feel off, like he ate something bad or has a bad hangover. So that's why it can't be both. "I don't need a girlfriend," he shrugs his shoulders and turns away, leaving her to gnaw at her full lips the way she always does when she's thinking a bit too hard. He likes it though. The way her eyes focus on nothing and her brows knit together while her teeth sink into her own flesh. It looks almost the same as when she reaches her climax, and JJ likes that the most. It's so easy with her.

The first time JJ and y/n had sex they were both still virgins. Each other's first. A perfect arrangement to get rid of a social barrier. And it hadn't been that bad. Maybe because she wanted more and he was selfishly generous. After that they didn't hook up for quite a while, until the Midsummers party a year later where she got so drunk she could barely walk, and JJ was the only one who didn't mind. By the time he had her in his bed she was already sobering up, babbling about how no one can make her finish, so he took it upon himself to rectify that problem. She came as soon as he bottomed out and JJ decided that it would be better for her to keep with him — in private — just in case she needed "help" again.

"Can I try something?" y/n rips him out of his memories. He leans his head to the side and looks at her. Soft curls framing her face. "What do you wanna try?" His voice is hoarse and deep even after clearing his throat. "I wanna make out with you, as a test. See, how can we know what we don't like if we've never tried it, right? And if you don't like it, we'll stop, and I'll never ask it again. Besides, you have to do it because you owe me." She smiles triumphantly while JJ chuffs and puts the bud of the joint down. "Alright, fine."

Y/n lifts out of her seat to stand in front of him, and he knows already that he lost. He reaches out and hooks his index into the hem of her panties, pulling her towards him. He wants to kiss her stomach, her thighs, to soothe the bruises he left on her earlier. But she won't let him. "My game," she reminds him, and he nods, sitting back and putting his hands up in the air. Y/n giggles once before she finds her seat on top of his thighs, straddling him in his seat. She takes his hands and guides them to her hips. His fingertips are running over her skin, hips and thighs and ass, but she doesn't seem to mind. Her eyes are fixed on his, a smile on her lips when she leans in and kisses his neck, then a bit farther up. His jawline down, one, two, three, just for her lips to ghost his and making him crave it. He grips her a bit harsher to let her know he didn't like the teasing. Her hand comes up and rests on his cheek. "Should I stop?" she whispers and JJ shakes his head no. If she stops now, how'd he explain that he's trying so hard not to get hard? She leans in again, her eyes closed and her forehead resting against his temple. "Please don't hold back on my account, JJ." Her voice is like a siren's song. Sweet and seductive and especially addictive when she says exactly what he wants to hear. Then there's this moment where their eyes meet again, and it's like the first time. There's no escaping this, even if he keeps fighting.

Has a nose ever felt so good brushing up against his? Has a hand ever grasped his biceps for dear life as much as hers does? Has a kiss ever been so tempting because she refuses to let it happen? JJ doesn't know if he's allowed to take it for himself. It's her game. Better not ruin it. "Kiss me already." He doesn't even notice that he's the one begging until her lips finally meet his. She tastes like heaven when her tongue meets his. It's very different from most of their kisses before, mainly because she's picking the pace. For the first time in his life JJ isn't the one in control, but it's less scary than he thought it would be. They keep kissing, breathing each other, and he no longer has any capacity in his mind to stop his growing erection. Her tongue is licking in his mouth and her hips are moving against his and JJ thinks it might be a dream. He has never felt like this, at least not while clothed and definitely not without his dick getting wet one way or the other. He can feel her fingers running through his hair, tugging and scraping. He likes it a little too much.

"JJ, I brought you some- Oh, God! I'm so sorry!" The two break apart instantly, staring at the woman who came in unannounced. Larissa has her back turned to them, a plate of sandwiches in her hands. "I didn't mean to interrupt," she apologizes while JJ scrambles to put on a fresh pair of shorts, one that doesn't have a wet spot on them. And y/n tries to put her clothes back on, but her shirt seems to have gone missing. "Take this," JJ hisses quietly, holding a shirt of his out for her to take. He has never done that for anyone. But he also hadn't had a run in by his own mother yet. "We're decent," y/n says and Larissa turns around slowly. Decent they might be, but the room gives a clear story on what they had been doing. "You two having fun?" she smiles politely. "Mom," JJ sighs, shaking his head. "I saw your boat docked and thought I should say hello. We haven't talked in so long, dear," she's only looking at y/n, who is standing there in a shirt that should be too big for her and still stretches over her chest. "It's always a pleasure," y/n smiles. JJ ponders if he died and went to hell. No, hell would be less awkward. "How are your parents?" his mother asks, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "They are good, yeah. Just the usual," y/n laughs as if it would make the lie more believable. JJ looks from her to his mother and takes the few steps over, his hands take the plate, and he leans in to kiss his mother's cheek. "Thank you," he smiles at her with all the love he has. But she still doesn't move. "I should be leaving," y/n speaks up. Her footsteps sound hollow and JJ wants to follow her, but he doesn't think he should. "Talk later?" he asks and she nods. "Sure. It was nice seeing you again, Ms. Genrette."

"She's such a sweet girl. Horrible mother, though," Larissa shakes her head as they watch y/n drive off in her luxury bow rider. "Her dad's an asshole too," JJ mutters and turns. He places the plate on the coffee table and goes to clean up his room. "So, are you two-" "Mom, I'm not going to talk to you about my private shit. And we're friends, I think," he says just as his eyes catch on a colorful piece of fabric under his bed and a smile steals itself onto his lips. "You could do much worse," Larissa exhales while sitting down on the couch. "Although those parents- Ah, doesn't matter. I barely ever saw my in-laws too." "Mom!" JJ admonishes and she laughs. "Oh, you look so adorable when you get annoyed. C'mere," she taps the seat to her left, and he comes thudding over, falling down into the seat and into her arms. "You know I love you no matter what," she whispers into his hair, kissing the top of his head. "Love you, too, mom," JJ sighs, wondering if she would still say it even if she knew all his secrets.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @atimynk @rafesteddy @myst1callz @sweetieheaers @chuuuchuuutrain

[enchantedstarfish]

Golden Boy

The Girl - kook!JJ × fem!reader

author's note: I didn't expect this to go as it did when I started writing, but hey, smut :) but yeah, JJ has a bit of a complicated relationship here that I would love to get into more later on

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut, dub-con, cursing, p in v (unprotected), oral (male receiving), biting, use of drugs (weed), bickering/fighting

Golden Boy masterlist

"I'm coming over." Her text reads like a threat and JJ knows well enough that it is one. He jumps out of bed and throws a pair of boxers on while also trying to maneuver his latest hookup out of his bed and, at best, off the island before she would get there.

JJ doesn't know if he wants to call y/n his friend but she has always been more than just an acquaintance. They grew up around each other, where each other's go-to date to social events that needed attending to suit the parents. Maybe they are friends after all but JJ hates labels…

"Did you molest the maid again?" y/n asks while walking in and dropping down on the couch, kicking a pair of used boxer out from under the table and right in front of JJ's feet. "Funny," he grits his teeth. "Why are you here?" "I don't know, maybe 'cause my dad's pissing me off and I hate my bitch ass friends?" y/n doesn't even try to smile and he likes that she doesn't give a shit what he thinks about her. They agreed to never lie to each other, and he kept that promise just as much as she did. "You don't hate me," JJ smiles, slumping down into the armchair across from her. "And yet I don't like you enough to suck your dick." She flips him off and pulls her phone out to scroll something that JJ doesn't have any interest in, still he watches her intently until she groans and throws her phone to the side. "God! Can you open a fucking window? It's disgusting in here. Seriously, if you did touch that poor girl again, I need to know," y/n stared at JJ who rolled his eyes. He got up and pushed the balcony windows open to let all the air in she needed. "Who says it was a girl?" he asks while walking back, his smile turning to a smirk. "Spare me. I don't wanna know what you do with Cameron." "He wishes," JJ snorts and it takes just a glance between the two and they are both laughing.

"I'm serious, though," y/n sighs, tapping the couch cushions to her right and motioning JJ closer. "I think he would be much more relaxed if he'd get manhandled, but I know he's not your type." "He's also not gay," JJ points out but y/n giggles. "Of course, he's not. And I'm not either. You're not too. Like, please open your pretty little eyes, Jackie." "Don't," he warns her and her smile deepens. "What if I do, Jackie?" y/n taunts but a second later her arms are pinned above her head and she's lying underneath him on the sofa. "Told you never to call me that," JJ hisses through gritted teeth. "Was just messing with ya'," she smiles, trying to pull her hands from his hold but he's stronger and maybe the glint in his eyes is a little intriguing.

He doesn't ask when he starts kissing her, not waiting for her to kiss him back. He doesn't ask when he slips his hand into her pants and rubs his palm over her wet slip, not waiting for a yes or no because it doesn't matter anyway. JJ takes what he deems fit, and right now all he wants is to fuck the girl he doesn't want to commit to. "Don't," y/n thrashes under him, trying to free herself but it won't work. "I know you want it, princess." The words rumble out of his, deep and seductive. "Not like this," she complains, finally gaining some control and pushing him off to fall to the floor. "Ouch," JJ complains, a smile on his lips, watching her sit up. "You could just ask me you know," she crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Way more fun like this," he is still grinning when he gets up and leans over her. "You could still ask," she pouts and turns her head to look elsewhere, anywhere but his face really. Yet she isn't allowed to. JJ's fingers dig into her cheeks while forcing her head back. "You only come here to get fucked, princess, so don't complain when it happens." There's a moment of silence where all she does is stare back at him, unrelenting and her blood boiling, but as soon as his lips hit hers, she gives in a little.

JJ forces her off the couch and onto the floor, ripping her pants down and slapping the round of her ass until she begs him to stop and the flesh is all bruised. "Just fuck me, asshole," y/n hisses through gritted teeth and a sniffling nose. He forces her to lie flat, pressing her head into the rug while spreading her legs. "You're real pretty like that, y/n," he hums, cupping her cunt and pressing his thumb to her hole. "Don't," she begs and for once he listens and lets off. "Always fussin'bout that," JJ tsks. "Just let me do it and we'll be over with it." "If you wanna end up dead," y/n turns her head a bit more to get a better look at him and the mean smirk on his face. "You wouldn't kill the best fuck of your life, baby." "Oh! It's in already? Didn't know you shrank," she bites back and his hand closes around her throat, restricting just enough airflow to make her lightheaded. JJ leans down and growls in her ear, "don't piss me off."

He stands back up and drags her towards the bed, hand fast around her neck but a smile on her lips. "Something funny?" JJ looks like he wants to rip her to shreds with his bare teeth when she licks her lips. "You never once managed to fuck me without looking at my face," she giggles. "S'cause I like seeing you cry," JJ shrugs his shoulders and she laughs a bit louder. "No, that's not it." But he's heard enough and he wants her to stop talking. He wants her to stop infiltrating his mind. He wants her to stop being able to read him even through his facade of asshole-ness. So, he forces her shirt down to reveal her perfectly round tits caged in a pretty lacy bra. "I can take it off, you don't have to make me look like one of your dates," she pushes against him and he lets her, gives her space to rid herself off most her clothes, leaving only the pretty red lingerie set to adorn her body. "My dates never look this pretty." JJ lets out a whistle, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor to rendezvous with his pants.

Y/n cries out when she feels his teeth sink into her hips, the stinging pain clouds her mind and she goes back to trying to pry the man off her body. "No, stop!" JJ looks up with a mean glare, visibly annoyed that she's interrupting him while he tries to leave as many bite marks on her as he can. "You wanted to get fucked, now you gotta take it, princess," he grows and dives back down to sink his teeth into the fat of her thigh. It's torturous, the way he bruises her skin and finds joy in her pain. Bite after bite until her tears run dry and her voice is hoarse from begging him to stop. "Look at you," JJ sighs, standing in front of the bed and looking down at her as if she were a piece of art. "I'm gonna make it better now, baby. I'll make it all better," he soothes, crawling to lie down on top of her.

She gasps and whimpers with every move he makes, working his way into her until he's satisfied. "Almost there," JJ breathes into her ear, holding his fingers out for her to suck on and she does it without question. That's one of the things he genuinely likes about y/n, her ability to follow his orders when she knows it's beneficial. He also likes how she moves her tongue along his digits, wondering how good it might feel if she were being silenced by another part of his body. He forces the idea down, once again, not wanting to dwell on it too long, especially when he is already feeling pretty good with her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock. JJ also likes that y/n wants him to make her feel small, at least like this. She needs it to get off. He's gathered that much. That's why he's pressing her into the mattress, using her cunt like a cheap flesh light and marking her up for everyone to know to not touch her.

"Faster," y/n moans around his finger, slinging her arms around his body and digging her nails into his skin. JJ pulls his fingers from her mouth with a plop, forcing her head around and kissing her so hard that, for just a moment, he forgets where he is. His hips move on their own accord; fast, heavy thrusts that make y/n's eyes roll to the back of her skull. JJ feels her cunt tightening around him, her legs trembling as they try to hold onto his hips but fail, her breathy moans faltering as they escape her. He pulls out, sitting up and forcing her legs together in front of him. The small gap between the top of her thighs looks delicious like that, all wet from her orgasm. The girl screams through her overstimulation when his cock rubs over her clit as he is reaching his climax, panting heavily while squeezing his cock between her thighs and spilling it all out onto her soft skin. JJ grins when he forces her legs apart once more, his eyes wandering over her body. Sweaty and heaving and all messed up with his cum sticking to her skin. He likes it too much, how good it feels to have robbed her of her voice and body.

He gets up and leaves for the bathroom. The lukewarm water of the shower feels refreshing, mind clearing. He doesn't know how long he's been standing there when he hears the door close and the soft pad of a pair of feet gets closer. He doesn't turn around to look at her. It's always like that. Sex between friends who aren't even friends at all. "Can you hand me the soap?" y/n asks from her end of the shower. When he finally turns he's amazed by how little everything he did seems to affect her now. Usually he left girls crying and wondering why they liked it although they were so against it all at first. But not y/n. She wears his obsession with pride.

"Earth to JJ!" She waves her hand in front of his face. A bad idea, really. It takes him less than a second to regain his composure and even less time to grasp for her and yank her against himself. "Not done with you," JJ growls and she bites her lip. "You didn't come back to bed. I was waiting," y/n sounds so innocent. Her voice is like a soft summer breeze, quiet but saccharine. He kisses her once before pushing her down to kneel. His cock is pulsing for her, hard and angry looking as a single drop of precum drips down his shaft. JJ pries her mouth open with his fingers digging into her cheeks. His other hand is fisting her hair and then he's inside and she gags. He pulls back enough to let her breathe around him but there's not much else that would give her comfort. JJ is using her throat like a cock sleeve and she does all she can to keep herself pliable and open. It's obscene how deep he forces his cock down her throat, nuzzling her nose against his pubes until she pinches his hips to make him stop. But she stops gagging as much and she doesn't throw up on him either or complain much else, so JJ sees no point in stopping until he's finished. And once he does she starts coughing, falling down on the shower floor and holding her throat. "Asshole." Her voice is hoarse, worse than before, but he doesn't feel even a little bit guilty. No, JJ likes looking at the girl lying at his feet, that's where she belongs after all. "Stop being a bitch about it. I know you liked it," he scoffs, letting the water drench him for another minute before walking out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his hips. If he is honest with himself, he doesn't care if she liked it or not, because he loved it enough for the both of them.

JJ falls down on the couch, a pair or swimming trunks on his body that sit so low you can see his entire happy trail, while he's lighting a joint. Y/n puts her underwear back on as soon as she's out of the bathroom and goes to sit beside him. "I hate when you do shit like that," she murmurs and he huffs a laugh, breathing out all the smoke that he had still wanted to keep in. "And yet…" he grins at her and holds out the joint. Her fingers tremble when she takes it and guides it to her lips. "You come here to get fucked, because you like it. If you wanted some lovey-dovey bitch you'd have one already, princess." JJ takes the joint back while y/n coughs up the smoke. "That's not true." There's no reason to lie, and yet she does it, maybe to soothe her mind or conscious or something. But a lie remains a lie, and JJ knows. He leans over and gazes into her eyes, they are a deep brown, almost black, and her breath hitches when his nose grazes hers. His lips are soft and he tastes mostly sweet, as if he'd eaten a whole bunch of cotton candy without her knowledge. But the delightful kiss is over as quickly as it occurred. "That's what you want?" he asks and she bites her bottom lip, staring at his mouth, the shape of it that intrigues her so before her eyes snap back up to meet his gaze. "Why can't it be both?"

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @atimynk @rafesteddy @myst1callz @sweetieheaers @chuuuchuuutrain

[enchantedstarfish]

Golden Boy

The Greenhouse - kook!JJ

author's note: weed business

word count: 480

warnings: talk about substances/substance abuse

Golden Boy masterlist

Hidden in the voluptuous flora of Goat Island lies a Greenhouse. Filled with beautiful greens and the best equipment anyone would ever need to care for the precious plants.

JJ is walking through the rows of planters, checking the temperature and humidity and how far along his "babies" are. He loves taking care of his plants. And he loves the money they make him even more.

When JJ turned 14 Luke had gifted him his first pre-roll, introducing the boy to a world that was much more fun and relaxing than his day-to-day life. Since then JJ had become obsessed with the drug. He invested all his pocket money — which wasn't a small amount — into figuring out how to grow the plants for himself. But a few plants just for himself weren't enough. JJ wanted more. He wanted to rule parts of the island he didn't have access to and weed was his gateway…

He started selling small amounts at parties, hooking up Kooks for a high price to build a clientele that kept his money flowing and would extend word of his product to the middle class of Kildare so it could trickle down to even the last corner of the Cut. But JJ didn't trust anyone enough to sell for him, not wanting anyone to know that he was deliberately charging the rich assholes on his side of the island double the price the Pogues on the Cut had to pay.

So it didn't make quite a lot of sense why Barry kept asking him why he doesn't want to use him to sell. "I don't get it. You could be doing all kinds'a shit, bro. Not be wastin'ya time sellin' when some other asshole could be doin' that," Barry shakes his head and JJ snorts. "Sure, cause you sell so much through this asshole?" he points at Rafe who is lying face down and coked up on the couch in Barry's trailer. "Always comes out with my money though," Barry lets his golden tooth shine with a smile. "That's all I care about." "I'm not going wastin' my money," JJ put his foot down and the discussion was once again done for.

Instead, the young man let his eyes wander around the trailer, jumping from raggedy clothes to dirty dishes and curtains for doors. JJ likes to imagine that his life could've been like this if it wasn't for his mom and her insurmountable amount of wealth that got passed down from a grandfather JJ barely knew. He thinks about what it might've been like to grow up with Luke as his dad. Not that he hasn't grown up with him, no, JJ is quite happy with how his life has panned out so far, but maybe — he pictures a childhood filled with laughter and parents that loved each other freely. A childhood without pain and regret.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @atimynk @rafesteddy @myst1callz @sweetieheaers

[enchantedstarfish]

Golden Boy

Sweet Little Cameron - kook!JJ

author's note: the vibe JJ brings to a function... he's def weird and nasty, nothing can ever change that, it might actually be way worse now

word count: 352

warnings: tw sa (it's just a kiss tho), tw violence, sexist talking

Golden Boy masterlist

JJ wasn't one to ask for permission, and besides if he had a sister he'd let Rafe do anything he wanted to her. They were brothers. Right?

So, his lips press against Sarah's, and she shoves against him, but he's too strong, too heavy when he presses her back into the wall behind her. It takes Topper ripping him from her to make him stop. But then JJ starts beating Topper until they both end up in a holding cell. Not the best of his ideas, really, but claiming the Princess' first kiss for himself was just who he was. JJ wanted everything to be his, even if it meant taking it by force.

"Topper is pissed," Rafe laughed the next day, following it up by snorting a line of his own product off JJ's coffee table. "Let him. Did him a favor—" JJ takes a drag of his joint, dropping his head in his neck to blow the smoke out, "— she's gonna be all over him now. That's what he wanted, right?" "Actually, I don't care," Rafe snorts a laugh. "Sarah's always bitchin'round. Serves her right. Could've gotten it worse." "Yeah, could've been you," JJ laughs at his best friend, who flips him off in return. "She needs to loosen up. Always so fucking stuck up. Might just check if she's got a stick up her ass next time I'm over." "Be my fucking guest," Rafe is indifferent to it all. "Just tell me about it after." "About her ass or?" "You know what I mean," Rafe waves it off, but JJ leans forward and looks at him intently. "No, I don't. Say what you mean, bro." "If she wasn't my sis, I would've tried it already, is all." JJ simply nods before sliding his phone off the table, letting "Sweet Home Alabama" boom out of the boxes that hang from the ceiling. "Ass," Rafe grunts and throws the first thing he can grab. The glass shatters on the wall behind JJ's head and they both start laughing as if nothing had happened. As if it was just another normal Sunday.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @atimynk @rafesteddy @myst1callz @sweetieheaers

[enchantedstarfish]

Golden Boy

Make him proud - kook!JJ

author's note: a tiny look into the relationship of JJ and his dad Chandler Groff

word count: 233

warnings: angst

Golden Boy masterlist

It stings. Then it burns. Pulsing flesh. Swelling. Tears brim but won't fall. He bites his tongue, grits his teeth, swallows hard. "You do as I say!" Chandler Groff barks at JJ, and JJ stares straight ahead. Head held high. Carrying the pain with pride.

He has long forgotten the reason why his father hurt him the first time. After that it became easier to live with. He was an angry drunk and the young boy was an easy target. Always running around where he didn't belong. Talking when he should be quiet. Touching all his fingers could reach. But JJ never told his mother. Didn't wanna break her heart. "Got into it with some kids at the beach," JJ would say when she asked about bruises. Surfing accidents followed by bike accidents followed by clumsiness. The lies piled up until he was old enough to hold himself up and fight back.

The flip side is shiny and bright and clean. It's lessons in power play and deception. Lies and threats and persuasion. It's knowing how far you can go and when to take a step further. There's money to be made and there's little that JJ likes more than money. He learned to be charming and cunning. How to wrap everyone around his finger in a matter of seconds.

A slide of hand is a remarkable skill, even if it comes bloodied.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @atimynk @rafesteddy @myst1callz @sweetieheaers

[enchantedstarfish]

Golden Boy

Father and Further - kook!JJ

author's note: a tiny look into the relationship of JJ and his dad Luke Maybank

word count: 214

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

Golden Boy masterlist

Picture it. A son and his father. Throwing balls in the backyard. Watching TV together. Learning how to shave with no beard in sight. A "normal" white picket fence upbringing.

Now picture it again. But the ball throwing becomes learning how to fight. The TV hours turn into half a business major in the making. The shaving stays but the man changes.

Blood runs thicker than water, and it hurts like a bitch. Bruised knuckles and a split lip. The Maybank way.

Do street smarts outweigh book smarts? Does time spent emote love? Do wounds heal quicker with a kiss? Does anger occur genetically?

What about learning to fish and nearly drowning? When his tiny hands wrapped around the fishing rod, not letting go, holding on even when the fish pulled and pulled and dragged him under. He woke up on the shore, a man hunched over him, tears in his blue eyes, while the boy kept coughing. "Thank God, boy. Your mama would've killed me," Luke Maybank tried to laugh, but it sounded so desperate and painful. "I caught a fish," is all JJ said, raspy but with a smile on his lips.

Luke Maybank was a dangerous father to have. But he was also the most fun one JJ had, too.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @atimynk @rafesteddy @myst1callz @sweetieheaers

[enchantedstarfish]

Golden Boy

What we're made of... - kook!JJ

author's note: let's start by answering the question of parentage for a young boy

word count: 774

warnings: none ig

Golden Boy masterlist

When JJ was five years old he saw something peculiar, something that would change his view on life entirely.

On a sunny day in late August, a Tuesday to be exact, he heard a noise he had never heard before. It sounded like someone was desperately trying to move a piece of furniture but kept bumping up against something else, but what had made his ears perk up was the combination of the bumping and a low but sweet whimper. JJ had always been a curious child, so he placed his toys to the side and started to investigate where those sounds could be coming from. He started on the first floor, checking every single room before making his way upstairs. Room after room he investigated the sounds that were getting louder up there, until he found a single door locked. No matter how hard he pulled on the door, it wouldn't open, wouldn't reveal to him the noise that had intrigued him so. But the young boy would not give up so easily.

Bending down a little he decided to take a peak through the keyhole. His eye caught view of two pairs of feet with ankles, one of them looking a lot like his mom's, but he didn't recognize the other pair. However, there was one thing JJ could be sure of, the man behind the door was not his father, because Chandler Groff had been on a business trip for the last week, and he wouldn't be coming home all that quickly. JJ kept his eye fixed on them, watching silently and holding his breath. Although he didn't fully understand what was going on, he knew it wasn't anything he should tell anyone, lest they made him have to stop watching.

But from that day on, the boy noticed the reoccurring pattern of his dad being gone and his mom inviting the mysterious man over to stay with her and do what no one else seemed to manage. Every night after his mother had indulged in her secret affair, JJ would ask himself what all of it would mean for him and his entire family. And yet he never said anything.

Just once was enough, a single glimpse of a pair of boots, and JJ knew who the ankles and feet belonged to. After that he stopped looking through the keyhole. He stopped wondering. He stopped lying, at least to his mother. "Who's my dad?" JJ asked after Larissa had tucked him in and kissed his forehead. She blinked twice and smiled. "You know who your dad is silly." "What about that man from the guest room?" JJ's question made her lose composure for a moment before she started smiling again. "He's an old friend of mine. You know Luke, he helps around the house." "It's okay, mom. I won't tell anyone. Not even dad," JJ whispered, pretending to lock his lips with an imaginary key and throwing it away. Larissa chuckled at his antics, brushing a few blonde curly strands from his face. "You're my golden boy, Jackson," she hushed and booped his nose. "I saw you, behind the door, in the bed," JJ whispered. If it had been anyone else he might've been scared of what they might do to him after such a confession, but Larissa would rather die than punish her only child in any way. "I would like if you didn't, sweetie. Will you promise me not to do it no more?" She asked, and he nodded, she didn't need knowing that he already had planned to never do it again. "Jackson, you can't tell anyone about this. Especially not daddy." She gave him a sorry smile. "It's not right for you to know and people will judge." "People suck," JJ giggled and she frowned. "Who told you that?" "Mr. Luke did." "Well, I'll tell him to not tell you such things. It's inappropriate," Larissa shook her head, her blonde hair swaying with the movement. "Will you tell him he's my dad?" JJ asked and it sounded so innocent. The sweet voice of a five-year-old with the weight of a lifetime to it. "Oh, sweetie," was all his mom said before hugging him so hard he was short of breath until she let go again, pulling the blanket over him up to his nose and turning off the lights. She wished him a good night and left him to wonder if this meant he had two dads who were barely around or if he had to simply become enough man, so his mother would no longer need either Groff or Maybank to take care of herself.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @atimynk @rafesteddy @myst1callz @sweetieheaers

[enchantedstarfish]

Golden Boy - concept masterlist

kook!JJ × fem!reader

concept idea: what if… JJ Maybank was born a Kook, and he wasn't named JJ Maybank but actually Jackson "JJ" Genrette?

general warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

author's note: interaction appreciated !!

⟡ What we're made of...

⟡ Father and Further

⟡ Make him proud

⟡ Sweet Little Cameron

⟡ The Greenhouse

⟡ The Girl

⟡ Trial Kiss

⟡ Girlfriend

⟡ Revenge

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

[enchantedstarfish]

TROUBLE IN PARADISE | day one

STRANGER!JOHNNY X READER

18+ | dubcon/noncon, stalking, fawn response, johnny’s just so big he doesn’t mean to hurt you :(

Based on this post of mine that I simply could not leave be. When all the parts are up I think I’m going to post it on AO3 and link it here!

“Happily?”

You’ve heard it probably seven times over the last two hours, accompanied by a smarmy smile and a boyish laugh. Salad-days charmers either calling your bluff or believing you can be swayed if they bring their hot breath close enough to your face.

Happily?

It’s their one comeback for your defense. ‘I’m married,’ to them means ‘convince me.’ Means you’re playing coy, hard to get, even. Means buy me another shot, means give me an excuse. You keep hoping they will take it for what it really means:

Fuck off.

Like the one sucking up your oxygen now. Neon pink swim-shorts with umbrellas on them, stringy, greased back hair, limbs so thin you have to keep an eye out for a stiff breeze. Foam from the murky pool clinging to his shoulders as he drips chlorine and alcohol onto your toes. He murmurs into the shell of your ear, low tones droning over the pulse of the club music, something about your ‘husband’ letting you leave the room dressed like that.

You can’t hold too much against him. He’s on vacation, too. You’re in a ludicrously small bikini. You’re standing alone at a pool party, nursing a sad rum and Coke not for the alcohol, but for the caffeine. To keep your eyes open.

But you’re annoyed. At your friends, who promised a relaxing beach getaway, a girl’s trip, and are now paired off with juvenile college grads wearing far too much cologne. And at every pushy, handsy, loud guy who wants to take their shot at you and not take no for an answer.

It takes confidence to start a conversation with someone. You know that.

You’d just have more sympathy for him if he would take the hint.

“Where is he?”

“What?” you yell back.

You have to yell. Everyone else around you is yelling, laughing. Bass blares over the speakers. Neon lights strobe. Partygoers dance, grinding and bumping into you with their sweat-slicked skin. Bubbles stream from the ceiling into the large, two-foot-deep pool in the center of the open-air atrium. The club staff walk around in loud, glittering costumes, pouring shots into people’s mouths and keeping the party alive, fun.

It would be fun - if your friends were with you. You could dance and drink and let the music float you away, let the bass thump into your chest and laugh and joke with all the rest.

But leaning against a table by the pool, alone, you're stuck on the defensive.

“Where’s your man? He here?” the boy asks. His hand slips to your waist - whoops, just leaning in to hear you better, that's all - and squeezes.

You picture swatting him out of the air like a fly.

“He’s …” you begin. You scan the crowd for your friends. If one of them were here, they could pull you away - see the call for mercy in your eyes and snatch you into their protective bubble. You think you see a swish of Ally’s skirt amidst the crowd, and then it’s gone.

You could also tell the pest to buzz off … but some ingrained instinct gives you pause.

Despite everything, you don't want to be rude.

It’s a club. He’s only doing what people do at clubs. There’s no need to hurt his feelings; you just want him to go away.

You’re about to say that your husband is back in the room - ate some bad shrimp, is working remotely, doesn’t like loud music, etc. - when you see him across the way. Sitting alone at the crowded bar, bottle of beer in his massive paw, turned around on the stool so the great expanse of his naked chest is facing the open room.

He’s just a strobing, multi-colored face in a sea of others, indistinct and blurry in the distance - but you saw him before. Beth bumped into him in the lineup outside, already too drunk to offer an apology so you had murmured one on her behalf. He was huge, towering over the heads of everyone around. Certainly not someone you wanted to piss off.

Intimidating. But the quicksilver flash of his smile, canines sharp and impish, that he gave you before you were tugged through the doors softened him just a fraction in your eyes.

He’d help a girl in need, surely.

It’s a split-second decision when you point a finger at him across the pool.

“Right there,” you finish. The boy at your side follows your eyes to the man at the bar, landing on him out of all the faces in the crowd.

It helps that the man is already looking at you, rim of his beer bottle turning up into his waiting, open mouth.

The boy laughs. “The big one?” he asks. Scoffs. “What’s he doing over there?”

His bemusement rankles. You imagine for a moment that the man by the bar really is your husband, and is watching this pink-footed irritant bother you with mirth. Waiting for the moment he steps over the line. Itching for it.

“Keeping an eye on me,” you say. You dip your head and take a gamble, twinkling your fingers at your ‘husband’ through the throng of bodies.

It’s a powerful, heady feeling - watching the boy's face fall when the man waves back, wide palm dancing in the air for a moment before landing back on his large thigh. Makes you feel safe. Protected, even. And a little cruel, as the boy goes a shade of green. His hand slips from your waist as he straightens his spine.

You offer him a simpering smile, suddenly having fun playing this part. “Have a good night,” you say, and walk away.

But the boy isn’t done yet.

He’s scorned, now.

“S’not your husband,” he scoffs from behind you.

It shouldn’t matter. Even if you’re lying - which, you guess, you are - the message should be clear. I don’t want to talk to you. Your breath smells like cod and tequila. Go away. You should just tell him. Crush his confidence and hope he doesn’t get too mad about it. But they never listen to you. The only excuse that works is some imaginary man at your shoulder, and that's only sometimes.

So you turn around. Raise an eyebrow at the boy. “No?”

And you hustle through the crowd toward the man at the bar.

You take the winding route, sneaking along the edge of the pool so you can be seen the entire journey, even if it means you’re almost pushed into the water a couple of times. Halfway to your destination, a thought hits you:

What if he’s taken? What if he actually is married?

You should probably figure that out before you take this any further. Sure, male friends of yours with girlfriends have saved you at bars before - happy and willing to pretend for the length of a conversation that you were theirs - but those were friends. You knew their other halves, and they knew you. If the man had a scrappy woman in the wings, you needed to know first.

Yeah, he waved at you, and he’s been alone all night from what you’ve seen - but you can never be too safe.

So:

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Even seated on the stool, the man has to lean his head down to hear you. He watched your approach with hungry eyes, tracking every step that brought you closer to him.

He’s even larger up close. All bright blue eyes and dark scruff and corded muscle under plush flesh. Spine bent on his seat, the soft bulge of his stomach spills over the waistline of his shorts, black hair trailing from beneath all the way up to his barrelled chest. Ams like trunks, expansive thighs barely fitting on the stool. A man.

Compared to him, the others populating the club seem limp, sickly. Your mouth goes a little dry, suddenly feeling nervous.

The man shakes his head, amusement tip-toeing across his blunt features.

“Can you be my husband?” you ask, before you can decide against it. Not your most poetic moment, but you’re feeling very small and silly in front of him. A little desperate to explain why you’ve come over and bugged him. “Please?”

The man finishes his drink in one quick swig, the beer swirling around the bottle and funneling past his pink lips. Then he sets it down on the bar top and levels you with that sneaky grin once again.

“‘course I can, doe, when ye ask so nicely.”

Oh. You weren’t expecting the accent: a thick brogue that rumbles from deep in his chest like an old diesel. But you’re relieved.

“Thank you,” you say, gesturing the the boy still staring from the other side of the pool. “This guy won’t -”

“Ach.”

The man cuts you off, waving your words away before planting two, sweaty paws on your waist and tugging. Just like that, your center of gravity is pulled off kilter, and your feet have to stumble their way back under you. You’re corralled into the open, humid yaw of his legs, the coarse hair of his thighs rubbing against either side of your hips.

In the floundering, your watered-down drink splashes over the rim and all over your front - a shock of cold that makes you gasp, indignant and startled.

The man either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

Wet palms slide down your sides until his fingers dig into the meat at the top of your ass. Searching, assessing. Inappropriate for a stranger. A sudden, heavy-handed violation that sends tingles up your spine.

Completely normal, though, for a husband to do to his wife.

His thumbs and index fingers slide just a hairsbreadth under the elastic of your bikini at your lower back. An accident, surely. He’s just playing the part you asked him to - wandering eyes drinking in the view of your chest pressed against his, the way your top has slipped just a bit, swallowed by his own muscle so that bird’s-eye, you could almost be naked.

It strains your back, bending into him like this. Your upper thighs dig into the thin strip of the barstool not devoured by his mass. Your toes struggle to find purchase on the slippery tiles beneath them.

“What’s -” Your voice is shakier than you want it to be. Aborted when he hefts you again, rearranging your form to rest impossibly closer against his. Shovelled into his space like a rag doll. The condensation on his skin slides against yours, trails of warm sweat sticking to you in his wake. Your hand flies to his shoulder, just to keep yourself upright.

“What’s your name?” you try again. Try to inject some normalcy, some manners, into this situation that is rapidly spiralling out of your control.

“Johnny,” the man murmurs, like an afterthought.

“Johnny,” you repeat. “I’m - oh!”

His mouth is on you. His mouth. Partway through your words, he descended, cramming his face into the side of your neck and nudging your jaw away. You’re frozen, stock-still as his wet, warm lips mouth against your pulse point. His tongue follows, hot and slippery as it drags from your collarbone to below your ear. A confusing, unwarranted pulsing starting between your legs. Shock. Amazement at the gall of him.

Heat, raging and sudden, bursts over your face. Maybe embarrassment, maybe chagrin, but maybe something else.

The coarse stubble on his cheeks and chin scratches the column of your throat raw. “Taste s’good.”

Oh my god.

Your head is bent at an awkward, upward angle, spine twisted as you gulp for air. You feel crushed, like you’re strangled in a pulsating crowd, straining over the mass of heads for a fresh sip of oxygen. Shoved by your shoulders into a pool of traitorous arousal, just trying to keep your nose above the water line.

The delicate, thin flesh of your neck is sucked between his teeth, blood vessels giving in under the assault as his hands knead your ass, and you gasp again.

“Johnny!” you whine, piqued.

Your mind reels for the words you shouldn’t have to say. You shouldn’t have to tell this stranger not to put his mouth, his hands on you. You look out at the club, at the flashing lights and tipping party-goers, and find no one to come to your aid. Even the boy has escaped into the masses.

Johnny groans when his name leaves your mouth, a guttural, growling thing that resonates into your bones deeper even than the thumping music. His hips shift on the stool as he cows you further, further, into him until your feet are off the ground. Something long and hard digs into your belly, something burning and thick and poking.

Oh my god!

Turncoat desire floods from to top of your head, cracking like an egg from your crown and dripping until it reaches your core. Repulsion, disgust, and scalding want mix into a dizzying cocktail that leaves you flailing. Reeling. Panting for some modicum of thought so you can do something other than whimper in the constriction of his arms.

Salvation comes, mercifully, in the stumbling form of your friend, tipping along the corner of your vision. Beth toes along the edge of the pool, hair a soaking wet mess. Hands clutching her stomach and dangerously unsteady on her feet. The guy you had seen her with earlier supports her weight and laughs, corralling her toward the exit.

It’s cold water on the coals in the sauna of your mind. Reality bleeds back in.

She might have pissed you off earlier, but you’re not letting some smarmy-mouthed pond-reed drag her back, skunk-drunk, to his room.

You push Johnny’s great shoulders away from you - with more pressure than would usually be required - and eventually he sets you free. It’s a battle, though. You can see it swirling in his acid-blue eyes. He’s not particularly happy about letting you go. Annoyance settles into the crease between his thick brows.

You fawn. You can’t help it.

“Sorry, sorry,” you bleat, untangling your limbs from his. Every inch of space between your bodies is hard-won. “I have to - my friend, she’s …”

You gesture to her stumbling form on its path to the exit, her glassy eyes and open mouth, the guy hauling her home like he’d just won her in a raffle. Desperate for Johnny to understand, to accept your excuse.

You feel scrutinized, flayed as his eyes flick from your face to your friend. As if you are waiting on his decision to let you.

As if he has any say in what you do.

Anger bubbles in your chest. You tell yourself that if he tries to stop you, then you will let it out. Give him a piece of your mind, tell him exactly how much power he has over your actions. None, you tell yourself. None at all. Johnny’s jaw clenches, mouth ticking to the side as he fights a frown. Because he is fighting it. Irritation, ire, scalding temper, flash over his face until they are smothered one by one. Your pulse picks up, adrenaline igniting as your blood goes cold.

His grin wins, eventually.

It comes easy and quick, as if it were always there.

“Sure, doe. Go an’ help yer friend.” Giving you permission, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Thanks,” you say. Immediately regret it. You shouldn’t be thanking him for assaulting you. But … he did get that boy to leave you alone. And he is letting you go. You have no doubt he could keep you there with him if he decided so.

“See you,” you say, if only to fill the heavy silence between you two.

Then you run.

Later, safe in the air-conditioning of your shared room, your friends laugh at you in the mirror.

“I look like a teenager!” you whine. The mark Johnny sucked into your neck looks rotten and bruised in the harsh white light. A deep red, rapidly turning purple. In the morning, it will be green and garish. Ghastly. A beacon to everyone who sees you.

Know what she was up to last night!

Your friends giggle from their pile on the bed, dazedly shovelling soggy, buffet nachos into their mouths. Beth gags into the toilet bowl beside you.

“It’s not funny,” you murmur, poking at the hickey. A hickey. What are you, fifteen? Getting marked up like this on day one of a seven-day vacation was certainly, decidedly, not funny.

“Was he hot?” Destiny asks through a mouthful of cold cheese. Ally titters. Beth hurls, spine straining over the porcelain.

It shouldn’t matter.

But already the memory is being warped. Laughter and distance diminish it into something soft, silly. If your friends took it seriously, maybe you would too. But they’re not, so … maybe you don’t have to either.

Maybe it can be a good story, something to giggle about years later - the weird guy who tried to eat you alive at some pool party at a resort you can’t even remember the name of. Maybe it would settle the sickening nausea roiling in your stomach when you think of it. Of him. Like an antacid, soothing the images until they’re smooth along the edges. Digestible.

The muscle of his tongue laving against your skin, the weight of his hands kneading your flesh like warm dough, the anger swimming in his eyes as you pulled off of him.

It could all be just a funny memory.

Easier that way, you think.

“Yeah,” you admit, pulling your hoodie up to your chin. “Super hot.”

[enchantedstarfish]

pre relationship jason thinks getting hard over you is humiliating because unless he takes care of it, it takes hours for his cock to soften on its own. in the meantime, focusing on anything else is a herculean effort. he's had imaginative flashes of you coming home when he's chubbed up in his sweats while he does something innocuous like unload the dishwasher and jason thinks about how he'd have to just carry on with his obvious erection in front of you. oh it turns him so red, the idea of him being unable to hide his fat, heavy cock from you, shame not flagging his arousal enough for it to go down. he pictures your narrowed eyes and how you'd tease him, impressed by his body but disappointed at his control. are you a stupid dog? can't think about anything but your dick? jason thinks yes. 100%.

it wasn't always like this, but ever since he's realized his feelings for you, anything about you gets him aching, his balls quickly tightening. if you discovered him like that and made him jerk off in front of you as punishment, jason would do it. you could rest a foot on his dick and press and that would probably make him black out from an orgasm. he despises how out of control he feels, but god, does he like you.

[enchantedstarfish]

the incest diary, anonymous.

[enchantedstarfish]

breeding kink - price

price who has such a bad breeding!kink that whenever you two fuck thats all it turns into.

he doesn’t realize how bad his breeding kink is until you tell him about how you had a dream about the two of you having a baby, one that was so real you woke up heartbroken their was no little baby girl running around with price’s eyes. you had complained the whole day, draping yourself over him as he worked on files, begging him just for one. because just one won’t hurt.

its not until he’s fucking into you brutally, palm sprawled out on your flat tummy, does he realize; yeah, his baby needs a baby. his hips are slamming into yours, face contorted and grunting with effort, sounding like an absolute animal on top of you. loves the way you try to push at his stomach, head thrown back as he fucked you raw for the first time. he’s thinking he’s probably never going to use a condom again, not when your pussy clamps down so tight, not when he has to work it into you like a virgin— with you begging him to stop— slow down— literally anything!

he loved feeling your nails drag down his back, creating deep crimson lines that were sure to stay.

whispering the most foul of sentences, making you clamp around him even tighter, “my fucking girl” he grabbed your head, pressing your foreheads together, “y’gonna give me some kids? gonna be my perfect little wife?” “how many you gonna carry for me?”

he didn’t even notice that such things were falling out of his mouth, all he’s thinking of is watching you walk around the house pregnant, laying you down on the bed and eating you out… maybe even fucking you gently while your belly was still round. something primal in him clicks when he realizes everyone would see you like that, fat and sweet, carrying as many babies as he fucked into you. everyone would know that he claimed you.

he couldn’t wait to parade you around the base, and the thought alone made him press balls deep into you, cock twitching in your deep heat as he came— lips pressed together in a tight line. he stayed there for a long while, feeling himself completely empty inside of you. he pulls out to watch it dribble down your folds, creating a mess everywhere on the bed.

he’s stroking his cock while playing with the cum leaking from your pussy, pressing it back inside with his fingers, watching as your over-sensitive body spasms, trying to roll away from him but to never avail.

he grabbed your ankles, spreading them wide before he mounted you again, pushing the head inside with a little force. you came to clutch your entire body around him, arms throwing themselves around price’s neck— anything to get as close to him as physically possible as he settled back into your pussy.

“shh, shh” he whispered “you’re gonna take it baby” “i’ll make a good wife out of you”

ahh im so good at dialogue in my head but not actually writing it wtf. Also not proof read bc im going to bed— will edit later.

[enchantedstarfish]

Inky Confessions

Or: Alternate!Marks finding out you have a tattoo of their name

An: please don’t get tattoos of men’s names 😕 also idk why but this feels different, lmk if it sucks lmaoo

Mohawk!Mark

You and Mark are alone in your room when you turn to face him and take your shirt off, bra underneath forgone.

“Y’gonna bend me over of wha?” You ask him, watching as his eyes darken and he approaches you.

He twists you around, fingers pulling you by the loops of your belt when he spots it:

Cursive ink on your lower back. ‘Marky’

He grins, thumbs caressing you from either side as you shiver at the feeling, and just when you’re about to make another remark, he’s grabbing you and flying through the air.

You look at him, eyes crazed and hair wind-swept. The lights from the houses twinkle like ants below you, and you've never been more turned on.

"Y'gonna drop me, Marky?" You ask, voice teasing.

“No,” he growls. “I’m gonna fuck you so good they’re gonna hear you all the way down there.”

Lenseless!Mark

We all know he’s one crazy son of a bitch. So when you go and get his name tatted on your lower back, he’s grinning and lifting his shirt up, revealing a tattoo of your name across his abs, right above his waist line.

“It’s forever now, babe.” He says, eyes wild and dilated.

You don’t know it, but he would brand himself many other ways for you, if you’d let him.!

Viltrum!Mark

You’re sparring in the gym when he finds it. It’s sweaty and the air is charged as you dodge and land hits.

You grin as you get the upper hand, tackling Mark and straddling him on the floor. He smiles up at you, proud of your accomplishment, and this disarms you, allowing him to take charge and flip you around, hands held behind your back.

Thrashing as you try to gain back the advantage, you feel him pause and pull your tank top further up. You gasp at the feeling, the soft caress a contrast to the harsh hits he was dealing just a minute ago.

“What’s this?” He asks, curiously. You huff and groan when he pulls your pants off, leaving you in your panties while he straddles you.

“You can see what it is.” Is all you respond, whining when he pulls you up and against him, hands on your neck and abdomen. Even his embraces feel tactical.

You know what he sees this as. A label. His. And you’d gotten it nonetheless. You’re trying to decipher his reaction when he groans in your ear, thrusting his hips against your backside.

“You like?” You ask, smirking at the obvious signs.

“Very much.” He hisses against you, pushing you back down against the training mat as he climbs above you.

You were his, and he was gonna show you just how much.

Main!Mark

He first sees it when you’re both naked. His favourite position is missionary, cause he likes to watch your face as you come apart on his cock, and he thinks it’s more polite, and he doesn’t want you to feel objectified.

But sometimes, you wished he’d just make you shut up and take it. That’s why today you’d insisted on being face down, and he was both happy and reluctant to oblige.

You smirk when you feel him pause behind you, knowing what he had spotted on your lower back. His name.

You wiggle your ass in front of Mark, whining, pretending like you don’t know what it’s about.

“Shit.” Is all he says, and for a second you panic, thinking maybe you’d got the wrong message. You begin to sit up, ready for the mortification of a lifetime.

But then he’s pushing your head back down, thrusting into you all the way as you scream, cunt squeezing him tightly.

“Fuck, Mark.” You exclaim.

“Y-you’re crazy. You’re crazy and sexy and so mine.” He repeats this mantra as he fucks into you, one hand holding your hip and pulling you back onto him.

The pleasure is already mind numbing, but then he’s reaching down and rubbing fast circles on your clit, and before you can warn him you’re coming fast.

He pulls out and you frown, but then you realise he’s jerking himself while staring at the tramp stamp on your back, releasing onto it.

Maybe he’d start fucking you from behind more now.

Taglist: @l1zard-l3ague @needylittleprince @repairheartzz @cosmiiwrites @cheeyan

[enchantedstarfish]

More Livestock Guardian!Ghost and Sheep!reader but make it, like a little gross 🫶🏻 part one here

cw: +18 mdni pls, dry humping thats abt it, afab reader

You wandered too far. Always one for going further for that better berry patch or shadier groves, especially now that Ghost was here. You explored the woods around the field without fear, the wolves driven miles away and not bold enough to return. You’re free to swim in the stream and laze around the plush moss, it was your own little oasis. But don’t notice the dark clouds or feel the static in the air, not until the sky opens up.

The rain is ice cold and so dense you can’t see through it more than a few feet. In seconds you are drenched and shivering, frantically trying to find some reprieve from the downpour. You run in the direction you think your pasture is in, blinding groping along familiar towering boulders when you find a crevice. Close to the ground and probably some small animals den, you wiggle and stuff yourself inside. It’s bigger than you expect, big enough to curl into a tight ball as you sniffle and try not to get mud in your mouth. The thunder rattling in your ears only makes you whine, wishing for the safety and warmth of the barn. 

He hears you. He can’t smell you in the rain but he follows your warbling cries as far as he can. You’d taken too long to come back to the herd, probably napping by the stream and unaware of the darkening sky. He doesn’t make it far when the rain starts, left to follow your tracks in the mud. Smart lamb, stuffing yourself in a hole too small for predators like himself to dig you out. He tries anyway, claws raking through icy mud but it only startles you further, pushing yourself to the very end of the burrow and bleating in distress. He can taste your fear scent in the back of his throat, heady and raw and the animal part of his brain revels in it. Digging harder and faster with a deep snarl, reaching in and groping around to feel even a bit of you. He’s able to wedge his head in, eyes zeroing in on you in the dark as you wrap your arm around yourself like a shield.

You really do start crying when you see him, big fat boo-hoo tears. Not because you are scared, you just wanted to go home. But home came to find you. 

“G-Ghost-“ you bleat miserably as he noses at your cold ears and lets you grab at him, dragging him in and soaking up the warmth radiating off him. 

“Don’t hide from me like that.” He growls, a warning you ought to be better about listening to. He gives you a long suffering huff and squeezes in with you, the rain beating down on his back as he reaches in to pull you from corner.

“Shouldn’t wander ‘s far. Now look’t you.” He grumbles, his fur is rough and scratchy against your face as you press into him, tucking under the spiked collar and breathing in the smell of home and herd. 

“You found me.” Your voice, clogged with tears, has him rumbling, claws digging into the mud beside your head. You don’t understand it yet, but that's okay. He’ll always find you, no matter how far you roam. But maybe that's why you let him do what he does, let him snuffle and nip at your soft, downy ears with the same teeth that snap bone and rend flesh. You don’t know any better when you lean into him, making yourself small and neat for him to latch onto and tuck away under his ribs, right in the hollow space near his heart. 

He thinks you just might want the same when you stick your cold nose in the space just below his ear and sigh like you have nothing to fear from him. You don’t even push him away when he starts drooling, feeling his hot, humid breath on you like a brand as he huffs your scent. You only wrinkle your nose a bit and let him move you to wrap your legs around him, crushing you to his chest. 

You think he may be rocking you, much like what you do with the small new born ewes, only his big meaty paws are grabbing at your hips and pressing them down onto him. You’re pulsing and warm, he can even feel it through your layers. He’s only warming you up, lamb, quit running from him. 

At least out here the others won’t come looking when they hear your soft sounds and hiccups when he’s got you under him, rutting against your puffy little sheep cunt with his teeth digging into your shoulder. Not enough to bleed, never, only to hold you still like an unruly pup. It was enough, more than enough to get him there, relishing in the weak mewl you give when his thick tip throbs against your puffy clit. It was disgusting, the way you go from shivering in fear to rolling around in the mud like you’re in heat, humping against each other in the dark.

Your fingers are shaking when they reach up, but you sigh when your fingers slide under worn leather, curling around the cold iron spikes, tugging it tighter and tighter. Feeling your plush cunt through thin fabric and the pressure around his throat has him snarling, teething and drooling on the unmarred skin on your shoulder. Is this what it’s like to be devoured? Is this what the others are so scared of when the wolves howl outside the barn? You extend your neck into his waiting maw and hope they understand, to be devoured is to be loved. The marrow sucked from your bones and delicate flesh stuck between his teeth, burrowing so deep in his cracks and crevices that he’ll never be rid of you. 

[enchantedstarfish]

Livestock Guardian!Ghost x Sheep!Reader anyone???

The collar is thick and the iron spikes are mean. It’s the first thing he was ever given, first thing he ever belonged to. Feeling it dig into his throat was more comforting than the barn he slept in at night, brought him more courage than a kill made with his own teeth. It told those going for his throat that he’s protected and he would protect in turn, no matter the cost.

Big and scarred, the farmers that took him in washed him clean and showed him his new purpose: the soft and docile sheep hybrids that roam their fields. More importantly, you. Soft wool and velvety black ears that droop, twitching little tail over your rump. Peace oozed from you like violence poured from him, it was bred bone-deep in both of you.

The herding dogs stayed weary of him, eyeing him as he stood on the edge of the fields, watching and waiting. The little lambs and skittish sheep were even worse, keeping their distance from his yellowing teeth and shying away when he lumbers around them in silent vigil. It suited him just fine, content to listen to their gentle bleats and watch over them from a distance.

The wolves in the area are voracious and Ghost understands why they kept him despite his feral nature, to hunt the hunters that stalk his gentle herd. He smells them from leagues away and snaps at your heels to drive you and the herd to a far corner before he gives chase. They are skinny and starved and no match for Ghost and his mass. When it’s all said and done, one lies dead at his feet and he graciously accepts the head pat he gets from the farmers oldest daughter as a job well done. But nothing is as rewarding as seeing you break away from the herd, approaching with a bowed head and soft eyes.

Your steps are careful and Ghost stands very still for you. He’s rewarded with a shy smile and your soft head bumping into his, ears flickers nervously. When you pull away the blood of wolves paints your pretty plush fur. He can’t stand the sight. It’s your turn to stand still as he licks you clean, free from the gore still clinging to his own patchy fur.

That night you stay glued to his side, head drooping with sleep when the others from the herd join you. Ghost is only slightly alarmed when he’s become surrounded on all sides by happy snuffling sheep, the sleepy creatures crowding him until he’s buried in the middle of the herd.