Latest Posts by pitaparka - Page 2

The threeway fic and john b, kie and reader fic were amazing!!! Would you ever write any more or a jj x reader x kie fic? ((If any one knows of any more pls lmk))

hey!! thank you so much :) i definitely would write more! i have a few asks in my inbox for that type of stuff which i plan to work on sometime soon, so look forward to that ;) how are you doing anon? are you kicking quarantine’s ass? if anyone else knows of any more threesome stuff obx related feel free to link in the replies for anon to find. big love! - nat

send some in folks! i think these would be really cool to do :)

A Kissing Prompt List

Places Where People Kiss:

In the rain.

In a vehicle.

In the street.

On the sidewalk.

In the shower.

In the kitchen.

In the snow.

Under the stars.

In the moonlight.

By the river.

In the water.

In the bedroom.

In a bar.

At a party.

At the other’s place.

By a campfire.

Reasons to kiss:

Life or Death

Love

Celebration

Longing

Missing the other

Relief

Lust

Need

No reason at all

Admiration

Power

First Kiss

Confessing feelings

A bet

Sad or hurt feelings

First date

listen to the waves

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

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

pairings: john b. x reader x kie

word count: 1.2k

warnings: cuddle pile. that is all. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the threeway fic is heavenly, well not heavenly because ya know, but it was amazing!!

thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! im so glad you liked it :) i really do love and appreciate the encouragement. you’re heavenly for reading it! well, not heavenly because, y’know, but... you get what i mean. big love my man!

pitaparka’s masterlist

updated: 2/7/21

*asterisks indicate smut!!

STAR WARS

PEDRO PASCAL HEADCANONS

sex*

when he’s sick

when you sleep with him for the first time

when you want him to choke you*

PEDRO PASCAL FANFICTION

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

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

THE AVENGERS

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

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

THE PUNISHER

hat trick - (billy russo x reader)

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

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

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

keepin’ busy - (frank castle x reader)

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

OUTER BANKS

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

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

coming attraction* - (jj maybank x reader)

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

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

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

eye of the storm - (jj maybank x reader)

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

hot and bothered* - (jj maybank x reader)

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

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

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

lazy river - (john b. x reader)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WRITING PROMPTS

quarantine prompts

writing prompt #1

allergic reaction prompts

christmas prompts 

halloween prompts

fall prompts 

flower meanings

a friend in need is a friend indeed

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

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

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

word count: 2.3k

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

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

The alcohol was overkill. She had to admit.

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

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

John B. watches from the doorway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJ gives John B. a look.

She smiles sweetly up at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJ stares at him.

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

JJ definitely is.

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

“No. I’m not gay.” He says, finally. 

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

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

He sighs loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s heavy breathing from all three of them. 

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

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

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

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

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

He sighs. He hates this part.

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

John B. looks at him suspiciously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pulls away.

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

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

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

ahhh thank you so much!! consider it written bby ;) she’s on her way

lock, stock, and barrel

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

pairings: scott lang x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: you have a big dumbass dog (but a cute dumbass) and your dad is your wingman (and if you dont have a dad im ur dad now have you taken your meds today? wanna go fishing?)

a/n: this is based off of a tiktok i found, which you can watch here (x) nobody requested this but i love scott so much. big love. 

A van pulls up to the house, and parks in front of the driveway. It’s repurposed, definitely, with the words “X-Con Security Consultants” lovingly (read: clumsily) painted (read: scrawled) onto the side. 

“That’s Hank Pym’s kid,” your father says to your mother, and she scoffs.

“No he’s not, he's the intern boy,” she argues, but you don’t care who’s son he is or if he’s interning. He’s beautiful. He has a wide smile on his face as he makes his way from his sketchy van with a bag of tools in hand.

“Scott!” Your father greets, leaving your mother to grumble amongst herself about the man’s origins.

“Hey! Morning, sir!” Scott calls back, and your father gives him a firm handshake. Your father doesn’t notice the pain in Scott’s eyes when he does this, but you do, and you like him immediately for it.

Your father leads the conversation as he guides him over to your car, you shamefully stand by the passenger side, treats and toys in hand. You come around to greet them both.

“—it’s good for extra cash since our expertise is locks and security,” Scott finishes, and your dad listens with intense curiosity.

“Tell Pym I said hi,” he says, before noticing you.

“Ah, Scott, here’s the culprit,” he says, leading him over to you.

“Technically, Delilah is the culprit, dad,” you complain, and he scoffs a little.

“Who locked her in there?” he says playfully, and you gasp.

“She did!” you say, laughing, and there are smiles all around.

“Hi,” you say, introducing yourself, and Scott holds out a hand for you.

“I’m Scott,” he says, and you notice his hands are firm and soft, “I’m here to save your dog. And also your car.”

You smirk, “Thank you.”

You notice he smiles a lot, which is not something you mind. He places a small work bag down on the ground near your driver’s side. He bends his neck at awkward angles to try and make out where your buttons are through your tinted windows.

“Tell him what happened,” your dad encourages, crossing his arms with an ‘I told you so’ look on his face, though it doesn’t apply to this situation.

“I put her in my car to take her on a ride, and I was walking around the other side to get in, and she hit the lock button,” you say sheepishly, staring at Delilah.

Your father laughs and shakes his head, telling you to call him if you needed anything, returning inside to catch the rest of the baseball game for a team he couldn’t care less about.

“It happens to the best of us. She’s really cute,” he says encouragingly, and you smile, because she’s not the only cute one in your general vicinity.

“Hi Delilah!” He coos, and she barks at him.

“Delilah, no,” your mother scolds, and she stares at you from the passenger seat with her tongue out.

“Well, I see how it is,” he mutters, and you laugh. He looks back at you when you do and you notice the light on his hair and how he squints just a little bit when he smiles. He turns back to your car, and works a car door wedge into the window of the driver’s side door. His focus is intense. 

“Where you guys headed?” He asks, budging the wedge in and turning a crank on the side.

“We were just going on a ride. I kinda wanted to take her to get Starbucks, but now I’m not sure she deserves it,” you say, crossing your arms, knowing full well Delilah would get her puppuccino anyway.

“Aw, of course she does,” he says, looking at her panting at him through the glass.

“Isn’t that right, Delilah?” He says. She pays no attention to him. But it’s okay. You’re paying enough attention for the both of you.

“She has beautiful eyes,” he muses, and you hum in agreement.

“You have really nice eyes too,” you compliment accidentally, and you can feel the heat on your face as you try to play it off.

“Thank you,” he says, and you note his smile in the reflection of your car window as he falters with the wedge and the crank.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you say, and he stops. 

“Uh, sure,” he says. He kneels down in your driveway to look for something in the small bag of tools he brought with him.

“I think we have coke? And orange juice probably, unless you want like, a water or something,” you say, and he accepts the water offer.

You turn to leave, but your mom is already halfway in the house.

“I can go get it,” your mom says, throwing you a smile over her shoulder. 

You’re stuck in an awkward silence for a few minutes as he wiggles and pushes and tinkers with wires through your window. He pulls out a malleable wire and shoves it through the window wedge. You watch him work, with precise hands and concentration plastered on his face. But soon enough, with persistence and skill, Scott unlocks your car from the inside, carefully removes the car door wedge, and subsequently frees your poor pooch from her automated prison. 

He opens the door, and Delilah moves to the driver’s side to smell Scott. She jumps out of the car and starts sniffing around him, her leash hanging limply on the ground.

You retrieve it and let Delilah do her thing.

“Thank you so much,” you say, as he crouches down to say hello to your pup.

“Ah, it’s no problem,” he says, and begins speaking to Delilah in a baby voice, “especially when I meet cute puppies like you, yes I do, yes I do!”

Delilah is loving the attention, and she smiles as he pets her behind the ears. You give her butt a few taps and go to speak to Scott again, but your mom returns from the kitchen.

“I cut up some fruit for you guys,” she informs, like you two were best friends having a sleepover. She balances two cold bottles of water, and, sure enough, a plate of fruit she stole from a platter sitting in your fridge.

“Mom,” you whine a little, and your dad follows soon after, in pursuit of the fruit.

“I’m alright, ma’am. Thank you though.”

Your mom yells your dad’s name in the direction of the front door, clearly not seeing him behind her. He steals a chunk of fruit off the platter and complains, “I’m right here, woman,”

“Oh,” she says, laughing in your direction, before she informs him Scott had gotten Delilah out.

“Someone had to,” he grumbles, and he runs back inside to grab his wallet. 

You watch as Scott stands and grabs his bag, smiling at Delilah and turning to return the stuff to his van. Delilah decides to follow him.

“Delilah, please,” you beg, and she stops pulling on her leash, sitting like a good girl. You watch as he puts some things in his truck, fiddling with something in there, before you realize you’re staring. 

You open your driver’s side door, letting Delilah hop in that way instead, and climb in after her, bumping her off your seat. You stare at her intently. She smiles back, none the wiser. 

“You, are going to be the death of me,” you assure her, and you're startled by a knock at your window. 

You expect Scott, but it’s your dad. You roll down your window. 

“I asked specifically for Scott,” he assures, and smiles at you.

“Dad,” you groan, head thumping your headrest. You sigh.

“Don’t be weird,” you plead, and he scoffs.

“When have I ever been weird?” He asks, followed by, “Don’t answer that.”

You absentmindedly pet Delilah.

“You want his number?” he asks, credit card in hand. You turn in your seat to look at Scott. He’s walking around to the other side of his van for something. 

“Not from you!” you muse, and that’s all your dad has to hear, grinning in triumph. 

“Dad!” you whisper harshly, “Don’t be weird!”

“I won’t!” he says, mocking your raspy whisper. 

You watch in your rear-view mirror as your dad goes up to Scott and hands him his credit card. Some words are exchanged, and then your mother goes up to him too. You decide you can’t watch anymore, and you hide your face in Delilah’s fur. 

“Delilah, what are we gonna do?” you say, and her ears perk up, because in her mind, you two are going to Starbucks for puppuccinos. 

“Not that, Delilah. Scott is so cute,” you inform her. She already knows, her eyes tell you, and you look back over at them. 

Scott is smiling at your car. He sees your face, and he waves, causing your parents to look over at you. You blush, and wave back at him. Your dad sends you a signal, but you don’t know what it means, and your mom’s exaggerated wink is overkill. 

You sigh and check your phone. No alerts, alarms, or notifications to take your mind off of the situation. 

You hear Scott’s truck start up, and he pulls away as easily as he pulled in, and that’s that. Just another candle in the wind, a cute guy you’d never see again. But apparently, your parents had other plans.

Pulling out of the Starbucks drive-thru, you pull into a parking spot to let Delilah enjoy her cup of whipped cream. You take a sip of your icy beverage, and you hear your phone ding. Checking your notifications, you realize it’s from an unknown number, and your heart jumps thinking who it could be.

Opening your phone, Delilah whines in anticipation for the whipped cream in the Starbucks cup in the holder. 

“Hang on, ‘Lilah,” you say and you open your phone to read the message.

did delilah get her puppuccino?

You smile at the text, and move to take a picture while you let Delilah go to town on her treat. Your phone chimes again and you hold the cup with one hand, skillfully checking your messages with the other. 

it’s scott by the way. didn’t know if you could tell.

You text back Delilah’s picture. You could tell it was Scott. 

“Delilah,” you say, “thank you so much for locking my door. You’re such a good girl,”

She knows. She decides to accept her payment in puppuccinos from now on.

coming attraction

request: first time giving jj head??

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

pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: oral sex. JJ wears banana boxers. that is all i will say ;) big love.

You clumsily remove your shirt from your body and lay back down on your bed. You’ve been restless and fidgety all day.

“It’s hot,” you complain to JJ, who already has his shirt off and is laying on his stomach at the end of your bed. One of your pillows is fluffed under his head, and he tries his best to take a midday nap. It’s not working.

“Uh, I think you mean, ‘I’m hot’.” He clarifies, tilting his head to look over at you. You watch him notice your tank top and discarded shirt.

“You’re right, I am hot,” you agree, before groaning and pouting at JJ. He scoffs playfully.

“What do you want me to do about it?” He asks, and you move to lay down next to him, on your back. You mumble something that sounds like ‘I dunno’, and sigh.

It doesn’t take long for you to accidentally fall asleep in the Outer Banks heat. The sun was hot on your face when you woke up, meaning you hadn’t slept for that long, and JJ was still asleep next to you, his arm cushioning his head on the pillow, turned away from you. You smile at the fact that he’s still here, and that you two were close enough that he could just nap in your presence, and not have it be weird. You sit up next to him and shake him so that he’d wake up.

He grumbles before he shifts a little in his sleep.

“Stop it,” he murmurs, “That hurts.”

“Get uppp,” you whine, and he jerks a little so you’d get off of him. He turns to look at you again.

“No, ‘m tired.” He says softly. You roll your eyes.

“Sleep when you’re dead. I’m bored.”

He flips his head again, presumably to fall back asleep, but you’re not having it.

“JJ.” You demand.

“Yeah. Right now isn’t… the best time for me to get up,” he says.

You give him a quizzical look.

“What? Why?”

“I got a problem.” he says. He shoves his face into the pillow and mutters something else.

“What problem?” You ask, amused. You sit up and cross your legs, rocking back and forth a little bit.

“Hmph,” he sounds. You poke him in the side and he shifts his weight, shoving his hands underneath his body.

Your eyes widen with recognition, and you laugh.

“What?” he says, face tinting pink.

“Nothing,” you clarify, but keep smiling at him mischievously.

Suddenly, you start to move one hand up his back, fingertips tracing his muscles and tanned skin.

You lightly graze his neck, and you feel the goosebumps that spread over his body at your touch.

“Turn over,” you suggest, and JJ complies, revealing the slight bulge in his pants and tucking his hands behind his head.

It takes a second before you make eye contact with him, but when you do, you notice his bright blue eyes are slightly darker, and his pupils a little bit blown out. He smirks.

Your eyes trail back down to his shorts, and you lean across his legs to unbutton them. He lifts his hips and you shimmy them down to his ankles, but he doesn’t kick them off.

The bright yellow banana print boxers made you smile. You’ve never actually given JJ a blowjob before, but that didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest.

You run your fingernails right under the waistband, and he brings his hands down to his side. Your other hand goes to feel up his thigh and abs. He places his hand on yours, and brings it to cup his bulge, which you can feel is hard, and likely not going away anytime soon.

Squeezing slightly, you get a feel for his dick, and he slides your hand into his boxers. You grab his cock, hot and pulsing. He closes his eyes when that happens, and lets his head fall back onto the pillow. He hums in approval as you start to move your hand in firm strokes. He pulls his boxers down more to free his cock, and you continue to pump it, slowly, with a solid grip.

“Can you, ah… go faster?” he asks, voice breathy as you progress, but you decide to do him one better.

You move your mouth over the tip of his head, red and glistening, and you spit. You watch it run down the side of his cock as you take your tongue to the underside of it, where sensitive veins ran.

His breath hitches and his hips buck slightly at the pressure.  

Letting your tongue do most of the work, you lick and press wet kisses to the underside of his dick, using one of your thumbs to flick his wet slit, your hand cupping his shaft.

He lets himself enjoy the attention, eyes still closed and cock still hard. His hand moves to hold the back of your head and you open your mouth and let him fuck up onto your tongue, licking his whole shaft.

You move slightly to straddle his calves, leaning down to bring your tongue back to the head of his dick.

“Oh, fuck that feels good,” he encourages.

You begin slowly, sucking on the tip with hollowed out cheeks and he can’t help himself. He moans and his breath sputters softly.

As you start to bob your head, avoiding teeth and trying not to go down too far, he keeps his hand on your head, encouraging you to take more and more down until his cock touches the back of your throat.

You gag a little and pull back, strings of spit connecting your lips to his cock still.

“Please, don’t stop,” he begs, his neck craned to look down at you, watching your mouth on him.

You decide to take a different approach, and push the tip of his cock back into your mouth, letting him buck up softly into the inside of your cheek.

He groans, and you take him back onto your tongue, towards your throat again, but not too far this time.

“Ah, I’m gonna…” he starts, but whimpers as you pick up the pace.

“I’m cumming, oh fuck, fuck, I’m—”

And you feel his cum pool on your tongue. You decide to swallow it, sucking so that his hips buck again, and he has to grab a fistful of the blanket underneath him to resist from plunging his cock to the back of your throat.

He moans in pleasure, and you pull away, cum still pooling at the tip of his penis. You carefully wipe it away with one hand, and he sits up, grinning.

“Come here,” he says, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him forcefully, pressing kisses to your neck.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you protest, wiggling out of his grasp and bending down to wipe his leftover cum on your discarded t-shirt. You had to wash it anyway.

“Aw, come on,” he protests with puppy dog eyes, “that’s not fair.”

“No no, now, you have to do something for me,” you say, and he looks wary of your suggestion.

“Like what?” He asks.

“Like, take a cold shower with me. Because I’m still hot.” You whine, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“Now that, I can get behind,” says JJ, springing himself off the bed, bare ass naked, in the direction of the bathroom. You admired his body until you couldn’t see him anymore

You hate to see him go, but you love to watch him leave.

He sticks his head out from behind the door frame and stares at you.

“You coming?” He asks.

“I know you’re coming,” you reply suggestively, and he rolls his eyes as you laugh, getting up to follow him.

ahaha ;) tis true. 

Do you write NSFW stuff?

hey dude! unfortunately, i do not. i can write slight smut but… full on NSFW? no. i’m very very bad at it!

but!!!!! @pitaparka is not! and she’s a great writer! who is accepting request for a bunch of stuff rn including obx. if you have any NSFW ideas you wanna see, shes your girl

between the devil and the deep blue sea

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

pairings: jj maybank x reader / john b x reader

word count: 3.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” the other one says.

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

“What are you doing here?” You ask

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is your brother there?” 

“No, he’s not here… who is this?”

“Ah, okay, sorry! Have a nice—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brunette glares at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you mutter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart races.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Know them? We’re practically besties.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your story?” she says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On your way somewhere?” Kie asks.

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

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

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

“Have you guys always lived here?”

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

“Hopefully not for much longer,” clarifies Kie.

You quirk a brow at her. She continues.

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

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

Everyone except John B.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything?” you ask hopefully.

John B. stares at you. 

“Well, it’s still a boat.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I desperately need a haircut. Will you try to cut it for me? Please?” w billy

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

pairing: billy russo x reader

word count: 1.8k

a/n: that billy gif does somethin’ to me man...

Billy had been wearing a hat every day for a week. In the house. Not going anywhere.

It was driving you insane.

"Take that stupid thing off, Billy," you’d say to him. His hair had been abnormally soft since he hadn’t been gelling it for work lately, not that you could see it. It was a stupid thing to get mad about, but tensions had been running high in your apartment. After Billy moved in, it had been much easier to spend time with him, and you were grateful for that. But during this quarantine, you both had been a little on edge.

“It looks like shit. I need a haircut,” he’d say, running his fingers through it in front of the mirror in the morning. He still woke up at an ungodly hour for some reason. It’s not like he had to. All of his meetings happened after nine o’clock in the morning, but the smell of a fresh pot of coffee brewing wasn’t the worst thing in the world to wake up to. Either way, the hair thing was stressing him out.

“It’s embarrassing,” he said, grumbling in bed after a long day of zoom calls and meetings on the phone. It was incredibly inconvenient to be running a company during this time. Especially because the people he was in charge of did most of their work in person, manually laboring away on a typical schedule. Billy had been trying to work that out over the phone, face to face with his higher-ups who were also confined to their houses.

“Just cut it yourself, Billy,” you say, sitting at your desk, typing away at an assignment that was due later on in the week. You sigh and sit back in your chair, leaning back to recline your feet on your desk and put your hands behind your head.

“I don’t know how. I’ve never had to before. I’d fuck it up,” he says, running his hands over his face and letting out a loud yawn. 

“There are videos online?” you suggest. Billy’s ears perk up.

“I think I have clippers somewhere…” he muses. He sighs.

“I desperately need a haircut,” he says, pulling a lock of hair down over his face. He goes almost cross-eyed to look at it, and it comes down to about the tip of his nose.

“I know, Billy. You complaining about it isn’t going to make your hair shorter,” you clarify, and he huffs in frustration.

“Have you ever cut hair?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbow to take a good look at you. It was easy to see you in the soft light of the lamp on your desk. You let out a little laugh.

“No… Actually, yes, once. I think I was like five? My mom was not happy. I gave myself bangs.” You laugh at the story, but that’s only what you had been told. It’s not like you knew the first thing about cutting hair.

“Come on, I’m serious. Will you try to cut it for me? Please?” he asks, and you check your clock.

“Right now?” you ask, and you rub your arms softly.

“I have stuff that’s due,” you say to him. He just looks at you in response.

“You could do it tomorrow if you want,” he finally says, and you close your laptop.

“No, let’s just… let's get it done tonight. I don’t want you complaining if I give you a bad haircut though,” you say, planting your feet on the ground.

“I don’t want a whole cut, just a trim. Let me go find the clippers,” he says, getting out of bed. You resist the urge to slap his ass as he walks past you.

“You don’t get to be picky, Russo,” you mutter after he leaves the door slightly ajar behind him. You take the opportunity to look up some articles and videos about cutting hair.

Billy’s setup includes one chair he got from the dining room, an old towel from the closet, and his face trimmer from under the bathroom sink.

“Okay, do you know how he cuts it? Does he just hold it like this or does he like… run a comb through it?” you stand behind him like his barber would to demonstrate, holding sections of his hair.

“I don’t know, he just, cuts it…” Billy says, adjusting the towel around his shoulder.

“Wow Billy, that’s… such a wealth of information you just gave me.”

“I don’t have eyes on the back of my head! How am I supposed to know—”

“Okay, so you’re gonna get what you’re gonna get and you’re gonna be happy, okay?” you say, and you hear him chuckle and mutter, “Oh god…”

“I can’t blend the hairline with the clippers we have,” you say after he explains the settings. You clip his hair back to see the lines the barber left behind from his last cut. It hasn’t been so long that they’ve faded too much.

“That’s okay. We can do just, high and tight on the sides. No fades.”

“You can’t move.” You clarify, and he plays with the trimmer before handing it to you.

“I know. Thank you for doing this for me by the way,” he says. He can’t see himself in the mirror, so he just has to trust you.

“Mhmm,” you agree absentmindedly as you focus, bringing the trimmer to the back of his head. You go over one spot repeatedly, but the hair doesn’t look like it’s getting any shorter.

“What do you see back there?” Billy asks, obviously scared you’re going to make him bald.

“It’s like, barely even cutting anything,” you say. You pull the clippers away from his head. He shifts in his seat.

“Uh oh. Let me feel it?” He asks and touches the hair there.

“Nope,” he agrees and gets up from his chair. He looks at the attachments and fiddles with the trimmer for a bit before he figures out the attachments were wrong, and the one you were supposed to be using was on the counter, not on the buzzer.

You turn it on and put it back to his head, and it seems to work better.

“Is that any better?” Billy asks, almost reading your mind.

“Yeah, I think so,” you respond, taking slow, precise movements through his hair. You can feel the hair gather in little piles around your feet. You find yourself in a groove and it becomes a lot less scary when you’re not worried about having him end up with some god awful buzz cut. You hold his head steady, one hand cupping the side of his face.

“It looks, chunky,” you complain, and you can feel his face scrunch up a little bit.

“I don’t know if that’s what I want to hear,” he says, tilting his head back more when you press your fingers into his jaw and guide him slowly.

But after a little while, it all starts to come together and looks much more even. You turn off the trimmer and admire your work, which is pretty darn good if you do say so yourself.

Getting up from the chair, Billy admires himself closely in the mirror. He runs his fingers over the newly buzzed sides of his head.

“I mean, up close you can tell it’s not faded, but it looks like I got a fresh cut,” he says, sitting back down. You can’t help but feel a little pride over it.

“I can clean up the sides without the guard on, like the ears and stuff,” you say.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he says, taking off the blade guard from the clippers.

He puts the trimmer back at your hand and now the metal gleams intimidatingly at you. It’s oddly intimate for the two of you. Something about having the blade so dangerously close to his skin was personal. Just the persistent buzz of the clippers and the stories coming from Billy about bad barbers. You can feel the goosebumps on his skin as you clean up the hair on the back of his neck. Then came the lines around his ears on both sides.

As you finished up, you offered him a mirror to see the back of it.

“If you want, I can round the edges a little more,” you offer.

“No, this is perfect. It looks great back there,” he says, moving the mirror from side to side, examining the back of his head. 

“Okay, I think we’re done!” he says, and you correct him.

“With the clippers.”

“Yes, with the clippers.” he agrees.

You wet his hair with a spray bottle newly filled with water you had retrieved from the closet, and with the smallest scissors you could find you take off little sections of hair from the top of his head. The reaction from Billy is physical, his shoulders standing a little taller, a little more confident in his new look. Some pieces of hair still cling to his t-shirt and shoulders, making him scratch at his neck.

“Hop in the shower quick and then I’ll blow dry it before you get into bed,” you tell him, and he listens, but not before he rudely kisses you, hands cupping the side of your face.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, before stripping off his clothes before he even turned the shower on. You leave the bathroom, face hot as you hear him turn it on. Maybe another day, you’d join him.

He comes out smelling good and looking fresh.

He pokes his head into the bedroom, his hair dripping wet onto the floor, with the need to tell you that he was done, not that you couldn’t hear the shower turn off all by yourself.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he says smiling, and there’s something childishly innocent about him getting excited about you blow-drying his hair.

The loud blow dryer made for little conversation to be had, but you were both fine with that. The heat on Billy’s skin made him tired, especially after the hot shower he had just taken. When his hair was sufficiently dry and you put away all of the tools from the night’s impromptu hair cutting session, Billy came up from behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder. You watched him in the mirror.

“Thank you for this. It feels so much better,” he says, planting a kiss to your shoulder. The one he plants gently on your neck makes you smile. You wrap your arms around him, holding them there, around your body.

“I didn’t mind,” you clarify, “I like how it came out.”

“Now I don’t feel like I have to wear that fuckin’ hat everywhere,” he says, and pulls away, making his way down the hall to the bedroom.

“Oh thank god,” you whisper under your breath, and follow him.

In bed, you stroke Billy’s newly cut hair. Under your fingers, he pulls you just a little bit closer to him, chest to chest under the warmth of your blankets. The darkness of the night filled the room, the only light streaming in from your window was that of the moon and the stars. You smile, but Billy is already fast asleep.

It really had gotten softer.

;)

CARING FOR STUBBORN MUSES. for when the person you’re trying to care for insists they don’t need your help.

“at least let me clean the wound!” “you’ll be even worse off if you don’t let me bandage this.” “i really think you need to see a doctor.” “i made you some soup, and i’m going to sit here until you eat it. i can wait.” “your feelings matter too! i can’t help you if i don’t even know what’s making you upset!” “..i’m here if you need anything, okay?” “stop trying to push yourself! you can’t do this on your own!” “listen, i know you don’t want to, but.. maybe you should rest for a while. you’re not going to get anywhere like this.” “i’ll make you a deal: i’ll just get you some bandages, and nothing else, and you stop making a fuss over it.” “how long has it last been since you slept?” “have you even been taking your medicine?” “i know you think you have to get through this by yourself, but you have people here to help you.” “let me take care of you, for once.” “you’re gonna hurt yourself even more if you do stupid things like that!” “i hate to break it to you, but you’re not supposed to do any strenuous physical activity for the next couple weeks, and if i have to personally make sure you don’t every waking hour of the day then i’m fully prepared to do that.” “it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” “stop trying to act like you’re not bleeding out in front of me!! this is serious!” “listen, asshole. i’m gonna carry you home whether you like it or not. you’re not in any condition to get there yourself.” “oh my god, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?!”

maybe a war is what i need.

quarantine prompts

and they were q u a r a n t i n e d

oh my god they were quarantined—

hey guys! i figured, hey, we’re all stuck home, we all wanna read some quarantine fics, why not make some quarantine prompts? here’s a prompt for every day i’ve been locked in my house :))) enjoy !!

1. “Wanna go on a walk with me?”

2. “Six feet apart! At all times! What’s wrong with you!?”

3. “It’s allergies I swear—“

4. “Why don’t you go back to your own house before we get stuck together for a month.”

5. “I know a few ways we could keep busy...”

6. “I’ve cleaned this house twice in my life. Both times today. I’m going crazy.”

7. “Oh my god, that’s why there was no traffic near the train station.”

8. “I’m not coming over if you have it, asshole.”

9. “I’m gonna leave it on your doorstep, and then I can wave at you from my car.”

10. “Well if you can’t cook and I can’t cook and we can’t get takeout... how are we supposed to eat?”

11. “Hey I need to ask you a favor... so you know my massage class? It’s online now and I need a body to massage. Will you help me out?”

12. “Will you teach me how to do that? Now you can’t say no, because you don’t have any plans.”

13. “Are you actually going to help or are you just going to sit around going through my photo albums.”

14. “I didn’t MEAN to wake up at 3pm. It just happened.”

15. “I really miss you. How long has it been since I’ve seen you?”

16. “I can’t even storm off! Because I can’t leave this goddamn house!”

17. “Are you sure everything is gonna go back to normal?”

18. “I don’t know how you’re gonna get home. Delta just cut 80% of their flights.”

19. “Pornhub is giving away free premium right now you perv. Get away from me.”

20. “That’s a dangerous game to play if we’re gonna be stuck with each other for the next four weeks.”

21. “They just cancelled classes for the rest of the year.”

22. “Please call out today... I want you to stay with me. I’m scared you’re... I’m scared you might get it.”

23. “No no no no no, I’m not a nose swab person, I hate those fucking things.”

24. “D’you wanna, maybe, I dunno, facetime and have dinner with me later? A quarantine date?”

25. “Oh no, start getting out the dry food and the powder milk guys, it’s basically the apocalypse.”

26. “The news has been really freaking me out lately.”

27. “If I have to go on another walk, I think I might actually lose it.”

28. “Oh. I didn’t know other people lived in this building. I guess you learn things when you’re stuck in your apartment all day.”

29. “I desperately need a haircut. Will you try to cut it for me? Please?”

hE knOWS hiS HeRbS 🌿

writing prompt #1

person A: “I’m kinda hungry.”

person B: “For what? Revenge?”

person A: “No, just for like, Chinese. Maybe some fries.”

allergic reaction prompts

1. “Does this have (allergy) in it? I’m super allergic to (allergy.)”

2. “It’s getting hard to breathe.”

3. “What do you mean you don’t have an epi-pen on you?!”

4. Is it better to sit down or lie down?”

5. “Okay, just try to breathe, the ambulance is on its way.”

6. “Don’t just stand there, call 9-1-1 you idiot!”

7. “Are you sure there’s (allergy) in this? I feel fine...”

8. “Did he just pass out?! Is he breathing!?”

9. “He’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up in the hospital.”

10. “I have an epi-pen in here somewhere, I know I brought it...”

11. “Take off your shirt, I need to see if there are hives on your back and chest.”

12. “Is that a rash? What did you eat?”

13. “My mouth feels kinda weird. Like, furry. And my tongue is too big.”

14. “Oh god, I think i’m gonna throw up—“

15. “Have you ever been stung by a bee before?”

16. “Is anyone else really really itchy all of a sudden?”

17. “You have to lay down, it’ll help you breathe better.”

18. “Woah, the hives are all over your back now.”

19. “I barely know him. How was I supposed to know he was allergic to Penicillin.”

20. “I’ve never had (allergy) before. Honestly it might be my new favorite thing.”

christmas sentence starters

just a few cute sentence starters because... ‘tis the season? or something like that? please reblog if you use! i love christmas stories!

1. “That’s not holly... that’s mistletoe...”

2. “Is it just me or does Santa look extra hot this year?”

3. “When Brenda Lee said rock around the christmas tree she didn’t mean literally. Please go put them back outside, they’re not cute.”

“I think it’s rustic.”

4. “(Name)! Why is our bathtub filled with snow?!”

5. “You didn’t have to get me anything. No seriously, I’m Jewish...”

6. “Fine! I’ll put up the lights all by mySELF.”

7. “Please come with me? ‘‘Tis the season!”

8. “Okay this was fun at first but now i’m cold and covered in pine needles, pick one and let’s go.”

9. “Wait, I thought we were going to my parents house this year?”

10. “YOU SPIKED THE EGG NOG???”

11. “Should we make christmas cookies or build a ginger bread house?”

12. “You woke me up at four in the morning to open christmas gifts like a child. At least let me make a cup of coffee first. We don’t even have kids!”

13. “If you’ve seen one Hallmark movie, you’ve seen them all.”

14. “Your nose is so red! Like Blitzen.”

“Wrong reindeer.”

13. “Iron Man 3! My favorite Christmas movie!”

“FOR THE LAST TIME. IRON MAN 3 IS NOT A CHRISTMAS MOVIE.”

14. “She wanted a puppy, not a litter.”

15. “Guys! Wrapping paper rolls are NOT lightsabers!”

16. “Do you wanna build a—“

“I swear to god if I hear you sing Frozen ONE MORE GODDAMN TIME.”

17. “Those aren’t poinsettias. They’re red chrysanthemums. And they mean death.”

18. “Where I grew up, we didn’t have snow at Christmas time.”

19. “You FELL through the FROZEN LAKE? ARE YOU CRAZY?”

20. “Is that... tape? On your gingerbread house?”

21. “Oh... Did I not tell you? The dog likes to eat cardboard. And also wrapping paper. It’s her way of getting in the Christmas spirit.”

22. “Can you come with me to get the ornaments out of the basement? I don’t want to go alone, it’s scary down there!”

23. “Your gingerbread house looks more like a... gingerbread pile.”

24. “The Christmas party is tonight? But I don’t even have an ugly sweater!”

25. “It’s Christmas Day! The only place open is the emergency room. And 7-eleven. We are staying IN.”

hi just a reminder that alex brightman is bABY

halloween word prompts

eerie fall prompts for your enjoyment! take as you please :)

1. pitch black

2. true crime

3. cabin fever

4. broken mirrors

5. scary movies

6. injuries

7. heights

8. needles

9. potions

10. raking

11. needle in a hay stack

12. harvest moon

13. friday the thirteenth

14. jumps scares

15. clowns

16. haunted maze

17. ghosts

18. sweet tooth

19. black cats

20. pumpkin carving

21. bugs

22. costumes

23. goosebumps

24. trick or treating

25. bones

26. pranks

27. devil

28. poison

29. blood

30. spiders

31. soaked

fall sentence starters

hey y’all! i’ve been in the writing mood so here are some autumnal writing prompts, both tricks and treats!

1. “I don’t really like candy corn.”

2. “I have no one to go apple picking with...”

3. “Do you... maybe wanna have a scary movie night?”

4. “Did you bring an umbrella?”

5. “My hands are so cold.”

6. “Can I borrow your hoodie?”

7. “Look at all the leaves!”

8. “Can you light a candle or something?”

9. “I know a way to warm you up.”

10. “What kind of candy should i get.”

11. “My nephew wants us to take him trick or treating this year.”

12. “Haven’t you ever seen the leaves change colors before?”

13. “Oh no, it looks like it’s gonna rain.”

14. “Your sweater is so big!”

15. “Lay with me?”

16. “Why is it so hot? It’s October!”

17. “Why did you get such a tiny pumpkin? We have to carve this!”

18. “You didn’t tell me we had to carve this!”

19. “Be careful with the decorations! That ladder won’t hold your— weight.”

20. “Are you seriously going all black this month?”

21. “What is the point of pumpkin spice pringle’s.”

22. “Summer is over. Stop wearing sunscreen.”

23. “The sun doesn’t go away just because it’s fall.”

24. “It’s raining so much.”

25. “But you’re so tall! Can you pleaaase come apple picking with me?”

26. “We are NOT dressing up my animal in a halloween costume.”

27. “You make a pretty cute ghost, babe.”

28. “I don’t want to go either but it’s a company party and there’s free food and we might as well have fun with it, right?”

29. “When was the last time you went to a Halloween party?”

30. “What are you going to dress up as?”

31. “You’ve never been to a corn maze?!”

32. “If you want to go to the haunted house I’ll go with you, just so you don’t get scared, y’know?”

33. “They have the best plain donuts here i’ve ever had in my life.”

34. “Cider is the best drink. Period.”

35. “But I’ve never made an apple pie before.”

36. “Come on, aren’t you excited to see the little kids trick or treating?”

37. “I don’t have to have to hand out candy alone, just put on the costume!”

38. “I picked it out especially with you in mind! You’re hurting my feelings!”

39. “They have good stuff down at the farmers market.”

40. “Why are your eyes so... red?”

41. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

42. “Did you hear that?”

43. “Is that an... actual skeleton?”

44. “It’s just your imagination.”

45. “Maybe it’s just a scary prank.”

46. “Is that your blood!?”

47. “Is this what being poisoned feels like?”

48. “Help them! They can’t breathe!”

49. “It’s just a scrape...”

50. “How did you break your leg? And so close to Halloween, too?”

51. “Do you know what death smells like?”

52. “Is that a real knife?”

53. “Your nose is bleeding, like, really bad.”

54. “Just sit down, I’m gonna take the nail out.”

55. “It’s Halloween, they’re probably just in a costume.”

56. “You’re scary good at that. For a beginner.”

57. “I love that sound.”

58. “There’s nothing better than fresh meat.”

59. “When I said trick or treat, I meant just treat.”

band-aids and bullet wounds

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

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: general frank castle injuries :(

a/n: back to posting! although it’s still irregular, i have a break from school on the horizon in which i may or may not have some prompts lined up. in the mean time, i love writing for lovable trash men, so please send in requests!

She woke to the sound of jangling keys in the doorway. Shuffling feet, and a clang of them falling to the floor had her up and out of her uncomfortable position on the armrest. Her feet patter against the hardwood floor of Frank's apartment, and behind the bed she hid, her eyes peeking out from above the comforter. She groped the floor for a gun she knew was there. There was a grunt of pain, the keys jangled again, and watched with baited breath. She sighed in relief as Frank walked through the door. Then furrowed her brows in panic as she quickly surveyed his bruised body.

Before she can do, or even say anything, he collapses into a chair near the door and bends down in pain, wincing as he attempts to undo his large combat boots.

"Frankie..." She criticizes, almost pouting as she makes her way over to his seat.

"Oh, don't start," He begins in an attempt to comfort her. He's hunched over, breathing shallow, yet laborious.

"What did you do, Castle?" She asks quietly, getting down on one knee to undo his boots.

He leans up slowly, allowing himself to relax into the shitty upholstery of his chair. He’s pretty sure he got it from a garage sale. It certainly feels like it. Frank gives no response. Instead he grimaces and sighs, closing his eyes and moving his hand to run it over his hair and face.

Without words, she's up off her knee, extending her hand to him. He mindlessly moves his to rest in hers. A gentle tug from her and a grunt of pain from him, and he resists, instead pulling her in towards him. She stumbles over his boot and whimpers as she accidentally bumps into his leg, her face planting straight into his severely bruised shoulder. He whimpers, but drowns it in her neck, letting himself lay idle there as she tried to figure out where to place herself in order to not hurt Frank. She settles for his knee, and for also wrapping her warm arms around his broad, tough shoulders.

"Frank," She murmurs into his jawline, her body rotated so that she could turn into him.

"What happened?" She inquires, running her hands over his freezing ears.

"Just a few bad guys, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it. Nothin' I haven't handled before." He reminds, letting his frigid hands run under her shirt for warmth. He hears her sharp intake of breath, and her chuckle into his ear and he melts. All the cold from outside and the pain from a few hours ago just melts away and he lives in her breathing for a second, before she removes herself from his lap carefully.

"C'mon," she encourages, taking his hand and gripping it tightly. With intent.

He sighs and removes himself from the chair.

She drags him unceremoniously into the bathroom, and sits him down on the side of the tub. Frank closes his eyes and, seemingly, for the hundredth time that night, sighs. He watches her, and wonders how he got to be so lucky. These patch-up sessions happened so often now, that he just let himself be cared for. Maybe he was getting sloppy. Did he deserve the aftercare? Probably not. But he had resisted long enough to realize that whether he likes it or not, if he comes back home and she’s waiting for him, he’s getting stitched, bandaged, and iced.

“What hurts?” She asks. He doesn’t answer.

“Frank—” She begins, but he interrupts her.

“I’m okay.” He lies.

“Bullshit. You’re sitting there, looking like Barney the dinosaur and you’re just gonna, fuckin', lie to my face?” She jokes, halfheartedly.

“Sweetheart,”

“No—don’t even, don’t even pull that shit with me, Castle. God. You know—do you even know what you look like right now, Frank?” She says, opening the mirrored medicine cabinet wide, so that frank could take a good look.

The dried blood on his temple immediately stuck out to him. A large gash where the skin was frayed definitely looked like it would hurt tomorrow. Not to mention the bruises. The cut on his lip would make eating anything spicy a pain. Though he had to admit, he’s seen worse.

“Would you believe me if i told you I won?” He asks, grinning at her.

“Unfortunately, 100%.” She answers. She rolls her eyes and takes the first aid kit from the cabinet.

On the floor next to him, after he takes off his jacket and his shirt, and all other unnecessary clothing items, she spends a ridiculous amount of time deciding what to use on him. Band-aids, gauze, ice packs, and a small suture kit were intermittently attended to as she cared for Frank. Not before long, the gash on his head was closed as best she could, and the majority of the larger cuts were bandaged up. The only things left were the small thin scrapes, littered over his face and arms, and the medium sized laceration on his bicep.

In the middle of applying comically small band-aids to the wounds, she decides that the fastest way to get through the process would be to murmur a very relevant, catchy tune. She sings it proudly yet quietly, applying one of the sticky ends methodically to Frank's face.

"I am stuck on band-aid brand, ‘cuz band-aids stick on me,” she sings under her breath. Frank recognizes the melody. It’s the only commercial that came on kids television, apparently.

“What?” He questions anyway.

“I am stuck on band-aid brand ‘cuz band-aids help heal me,” She croons, looking up at Frank’s incredulous expression.

“I can’t deal with you,” he chuckles, and turns away to watch the wall, before his gaze falls back to her smiling widely on her knees, getting the alcohol to disinfect the scrapes. Without warning, she pours the alcohol into the gash in his arm. He growls. 

“Ah, watch the fuckin'... thing, please.”

“I’m gonna put a band-aid on your mouth,” she mutters, “maybe it’ll fix your language.”

“Ah shut up,” he retorts, and tries to run his sticky, dirty, bloody hand through her hair.

“Nooo!” She whines, dodging it.

“I’m almost done, and then, ah shit—“ she cuts herself off, realizing she should’ve had him take a shower first. Too late now

“Well, we can have it sit for a while, then I’ll hop in the shower with you?” she suggests. He rests his hands on the edge of the tub.

“Sounds good to me,” he responds, listening to her hum and take paper off of band-aids. 

He watches as she meticulously covers each cut with nurturing hands. He doesn’t mind the touch. The cheap whiskey stings a bit when first applied, but the pain become dull after a while. Like a tattoo needle. He only realizes he’s tired when he yawns, and then again when she reaches up to rub the back of his neck after she’s finished. He closes his eyes, just for a moment, and relishes in the undisturbed tranquility of the night. A clock ticking from somewhere inside his apartment. Nearly ancient walls creaking. A car driving by every now and again. He’s glad he’s not alone, is the only thing he can think of when his lips meet hers.

flower meanings

Just some flower meanings I wanted to get out there. It seemed pretty cool to me and was a lot of work, so I hope y’all enjoy it! Now updated with pictures of each one! 

Disclaimer: None of these photos are mine, and this post is obscenely long. Like, super long. Beware. But also enjoy ;)

Alstroemeria - Wealth, prosperity, fortune, friendship

Pink/red alstroemeria - warmth and affection towards a friend

Orange alstroemeria - keeps you working towards your goals

Yellow/white/blue alstroemeria - express your concern to a loved one who isn’t feeling well

Amaryllis - Splendid beauty, worth beyond beauty


Anemone - Fading hope, forsaken, anticipation 

Pink/Red Anemone - forsaken or dying love

White Anemone - death and bad luck in Eastern cultures where white is the color used at funerals

Purple/blue Anemone -  anticipation and protection from evil meanings

Anthurium - Hospitality, happiness, abundance

Red Anthurium - Love and Passion

White Anthurium - Innocence and Purity

Pink Anthurium  - Compassion, Femininity, Motherly Love


Aster - Patience, a love of variety, elegance, daintiness


Bird of Paradise - Joyfulness, magnificence, wonderful anticipation


Bouvardia Double - Enthusiasm, zest for life


Calla Lily - Magnificence, beauty, purity, innocence


Carnation - Pride, beauty


Red Carnation - Love, pride, admiration


Pink Carnation - Love of a woman or a mother


Purple Carnation - Capriciousness


Yellow Carnation - Disdain, rejection, disappointment


White Carnation - Innocence, pure love


Striped Carnation - Refusal


Chrysanthemum - Fidelity, optimism, joy, long life


Red Chrysanthemum - Love


White Chrysanthemum - Truth, loyal love


Yellow Chrysanthemum - Slighted love

Daffodil - regard, chivalry, rebirth, new beginnings, eternal life, unrequited love


Daffodil (Single) - Foretells a misfortune


Daffodil (Bunch) - Joy, happiness


Daisy - Innocence, purity, loyal love, “I will never tell.”


Gerbera Daisy- Cheerfulness


Delphinium - Big hearted, fun, lightness, levity, ardent attachment


Freesia - Innocence, thoughtfulness


Gardenia - Purity, sweetness, secret love, joy, conveys loneliness from the giver


Gerbera - Cheerfulness

Gladiolus - Strength of character, remembrance


Lavender Heather - Admiration, solitude, beauty


White Heather - Protection, wishes will come true


Hyacinth - Playfulness, sporty attitude, extreme rashness, constancy


Blue Hyacinth - Constancy


Purple Hyacinth - Sorrow


Red/Pink Hyacinth - Play


White Hyacinth - Loveliness


Yellow Hyacinth - Jealousy


Hydrangea - Heartfelt emotions, gratitude for being understood, frigidity, heartlessness


Iris - Eloquence


Purple Iris - Wisdom, compliments


Blue Iris - Faith, hope


Yellow Iris - Passion


White Iris - Purity


Larkspur - Levity, lightness, fickleness, haughtiness


Lilac - Youthful innocence, confidence


White Lilac - Humility, Innocence


Field Lilac - Charity


Purple Lilac - First love


Lily - Purity, refined beauty


White Lily - Modesty, virginity


Orange Lily - Passion


Yellow Lily - Gaiety


Lily of the Valley - Sweetness, purity of heart


Easter Lily - Virgin Mary


Orchid - Exotic beauty, refinement, thoughtfulness, mature charm, proud and glorious femininity


Peony - Bashfulness, compassion, indignation, shame, happy life, happy marriage, good health, prosperity


King Protea - Change, transformation, daring, resourcefulness, diversity, courage


Queen Anne - Haven, sanctuary, complexity, delicateness


Ranunculus - Radiant charm, attractiveness

Snapdragon - Graciousness, strenght, deception, presumption

Statice - Remembrance, sympathy, success

Stock - Lasting beauty, happy life, bonds of affection, promptness 

Sunflower - Pure thoughts, adoration, dedication, dedicated love, haughtiness

Sweet Pea - Delicate pleasure, bliss, departure after having a good time


Tulip - Declaration of love, fame, perfect love

Rose - Love

Red Rose - Love, longing, desire, respect, admiration, devotion

Deep Red Rose - Regret, sorrow

White Rose - Purity, chastity, innocence, new beginnings, sympathy, humility, spirituality

Yellow Rose - Exuberance, joy, warmth, welcome, friendship, caring, purely platonic emotions

Pink Rose - Gentleness, admiration, joy, gratitude, appreciation, elegance, grace

Orange Rose - Passion, energy, desire, pride, fervor, fascination

Lavender Rose - Enchantment, love at first sight, majesty, splendor, fascination, adoration

Blue Rose - Elusive, unattainable, mysterious, desire, I can’t have you but I can’t stop thinking about you

Green Rose - Harmony, opulence, fertility, best wishes for a prosperous new life or wishes for recovery of good health

Black Rose - Death, farewell, elusive

Mixed Roses - Mixed feelings, I don’t know my feelings yet but I care about you enough to send roses

Moss Rosebud - Confession of love

Thorn-less Rose - Love at first sight, early attachment

Leaf Rose - You may hope

Hibiscus Rose - Delicate beauty

Burgundy Rose - Unconscious beauty

Christmas Rose - Relieve my anxiety

Dog Rose - Pleasure and pain

Damask Rose - Freshness, Persian ambassador of Love

Garden Rose - I am from Mars

Tea Rose - I will remember always

Rose of Sharon - Consumed by love

Carmine Rose - Deceitful desire

Cardinal Red Rose - Sublime desire

Amaranth Red Rose - Long standing desire

Wild Rose - Simplicity

Musk Rose - Capricious beauty 


Rosa Mundi - Variety 


Single Red Rose - “I love you”


A Single White Rose - “My feelings are pure”


A Single Yellow Rose - “You bring joy to my life” “Let’s be friends”


A Single Pink Rose - “I like you“


A Single Orange Rose - “I am proud of you”


A Single Peach Rose - “Thank you” “I sympathise with you” 


A Single Lavender Rose - “I am enchanted by you”


A Single Blue Rose - “You seem like an unattainable dream”


A Crown Of Roses - Reward of virtue


A Bouquet Of Roses - Gratitude 


A Rose In A Tuft Of Grass - There is everything to be gained by good company 


One Red Rose - “I love you” “You are the one for me”


Two Red Roses - “Let us be together”


Three Red Roses - “You and me and our love for company”


Five Red Roses - “I am halfway in love with you”


Twelve Red Roses - “Be mine”


Twenty Five Red Roses - “Congratulations”


Fifty Red Roses - “My love for you is limitless”