request: Hi! Can you do an imagine where the reader is surfing with John B en JJ on a stormy night and she gets hurts/almost drowns?
summary: john b., reader, and jj go surfing during agatha. they get hurt and the boys fuss and care for them.
pairings: jj x reader
word count: 1.5k
warnings: near death experience, near drowning, large cuts
a/n: no super huge romance, just some friendly post trauma kisses. nothin gay about kissin your homies. big love
You shouldn’t have gone with them in the first place, but by the time you realized the tides were too rough for you, for anyone, it was too late.
The waves were frothy white, loud, and gorgeous. It was impossible not to feel tempted by them, by mother nature’s intense beauty. They surged high, rolling in on themselves before pushing in as far as they could onto the beach.
At first, you weren’t going to go in. You were going to stand around, watching them in the cold rain, making sure they didn’t drown or get hurt. It was stupid, you thought, as they blared music in the van, harsh winds and pelting rains sounding loudly against the metal, almost pushing John B. off the road a few times.
But the crash of the waves and the peaks of the crests, the strong pulling of the tide at your bare, sandy feet were too much for you. It courses adrenaline through your veins at an unfiltered rate. The sides of the beach were blown out, so you’d have to stay in the middle. You’d be able to live with that.
As JJ and John B. paddled out into the water, you retreated back to the van, where your board sat, begging to be used in the storm.
Paddling out into the ocean, you feel how intense the current is. You have to duck under many waves before you get one that’s salvageable.
It’s incredible to see through the barrel of the wave, but only for a second, as the wave changes and you’re under the water, eyes and lungs stinging. Your hand catches your board before you go too far down, and you wait the wave out, before pulling yourself onto the board, stomach flat on the hardwood finish and paddling out further. You have to duck under the waves that have already started to swell, but you have a good feeling about one far out, forming in the distance.
You see the break line and you’re off, paddling as hard as you can to catch it before it peaks. Before you know it you’re up on the board, and you make the bottom turn, cutting through the wave like a knife, balanced out and eyes the clearest they’ve been all week. You curve up, and then back in, watching the water crest right in front of you. But the whole wave closes out at the same time and you go under again, water in your eyes and ears. The wave turns you over in the swell, and you start swimming back to the surface.
Only, you’re not. You feel the tug on your leg, and you realize you’re swimming in the wrong direction. Using all your strength, you make it to the top, but are pushed back under in another swell, breathless and disoriented.
You pull your leg up to find your strap, panicking, and climb it up to where your board was, getting pulled viciously toward the beach in another wave. You swim up to the top, finally getting some air, and try to find your board. You pant as you wipe your face, but you can see another wave coming. You go under as it crests right above you, and your lungs sting. You come up coughing.
After the wipe out you don’t realize how close you are to the rocks near the pier until you’re on top of them, scraping your legs and the palms of your hands. The ocean is pure white there, all froth and harsh currents. But it’s not as strong as the waves in the middle. You pull your board into you, and decide you’ve had enough for the day, when you see John B. on the beach, board in hand. You wipe your face again, and sit upright on your board. You survey the water and are surprised to see JJ making his way over to you. His hair is curled over onto his face, almost like a wave itself, his chest bare and his arms moving hard.
“Rocks!” You yell out to caution him, but he’s pulling his board to his chest and ducking under a wave.
He’s almost close enough to hear you when you watch him wince. He must’ve caught himself on a rock.
“You okay?” He yells, and you’re nodding, ready to go back in. He’s by your side and grabbing your arm to keep himself next to you. You grab his knee and feel the waves rock the two of you steadily.
“What happened?” He asks, and you know what he means but it’s too dangerous to hold a conversation out here.
“Let’s go in!” You yell over the swell, and he watches you with concerned eyes for a moment, before he makes you go first. It’s not as bad just riding the waves in, and as soon as you can stand, John B. is in the water, taking your board for you and walking alongside you.
You get to dry sand and rip the velcro off of your ankle. The waves are still loud, but at least now you can hear when John B. tells you, “You’re bleeding.”
You look down and see the culprit: a large scrape down the entire side of your calf, which stings with the salty air. He puts your board down in the sand and kneels down by it to get a better look when JJ makes it in too. He drops his board to the sand and doesn’t even bother unstrapping himself from his board.
“You okay? We saw you wipe out pretty bad,” JJ says, and there’s no pride in his voice. Just concern.
“Yeah, I’m okay, I just cut my leg on the rocks over there,” you say, watching John B inspect the cut.
“I think I have a first aid kit in the car. We have towels too,” John B. informs, and he picks up your surfboard and his own, waiting for you to start walking.
JJ is on you in a second, throwing your arm over his shoulder, his board under his other arm, as his hand wraps around your side. You smile and hobble with him over to John B.’s van.
The walk is silent save for the wind, and is entirely awkward.
“You’re shaking still,” JJ whispers to you as he sits you down on the floor of the van.
“I’ll be fine,” you reply. He moves to the back of the van as John B. starts it up. You wipe your sandy feet carefully on the asphalt before JJ comes back with a towel, pressing it carefully to the cut. You wince.
“Sorry,” he mutters, lifting it off the cut to inspect the blood. He places it gently back down and applies pressure.
“Ugh, JJ stop doing that. I’m gonna pass out,” you tease, but JJ is not laughing. He glares up at you, and you watch him with warm eyes.
John B. enters from the other side of the van and closes the door, surfboards piled up in the back. He looks under the seat and finds an old first aid kit, probably from when his dad bought the van. It’s dusty and yellow and disgusting looking. He sits down behind you and starts going through it. You turn to him.
“If you take anything from there and touch me with it I’m gonna drive home and leave you here,” you say, and JJ chuckles.
“Be careful, man, she’s bleeding. There’s no telling what she’ll actually do,” JJ says, and he tries to tie the towel around your cut. He’s having a hard time.
“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” you tell JJ, but he ignores you. Until he laughs out loud.
“A hoe never gets cold,” John B. says from behind you, and JJ remarks, “Hey! I was gonna say that!”
You shake your head and roll your eyes.
“That’s not true. I’m freezing,” you tell the boys, and they both laugh, which fades into silence between you three as John B. puts the kit back under the seat and JJ finishes tying the towel.
There’s a radio station playing ads from the front seat.
“Get in. I’ll close the door,” JJ says, and you scoot backwards as he hops into the back, sliding the door behind him. John B. strategically maneuvers his way into the front of the van. JJ sits next to you, inspecting your fingers and bending them, as if to make sure they’re all in working order.
“You scared us, y’know,” John B. comments from the front. You rest your head on JJ’s shoulders as he notices your scratched palms that have since stopped bleeding.
“It’s okay,” you chide, and JJ runs the pads of his fingers over the cuts.
“It’s just a bad wipeout. It happens all the time to you guys,” you explain, and you feel JJ kiss the top of your head. You pull away to look at him, eyes wide, but he’s not looking at you anymore. He’s watching the rain pelt the window on his side. You two should probably be in seats, but it doesn’t matter at this point.
He refuses to look at you, so you don’t make him. Instead, you place your head back on his shoulder, bring his own palm up to your lips, and plant soft, inaudible kisses there.
You feel him smile as John B. takes his time cruising down the highway.
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.”
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”
note—it gets a little suggestive during oberyn's part, but nothing too crazy. i use sleep here in it's purest form by the way, so enjoy! let me know if you have any ideas for the next one! me and the boys are open to suggestions ;)
MANDO
- mando has always allowed you his bunk to sleep, whenever you like
- when you stayed with him on the razor crest and watched the kid, he was always more than willing to give it up anytime you needed sleep
- he didn't sleep much anyway, and usually your sleeping schedules didn't overlap
- but boba fett's ship doesn't have much space to begin with, let alone enough space for all of the crew mates he's happened to find recently
- which mean's you and mando, having already been living together and already know each other, were sleeping together, in the same small bunk, at the same time
- he offered to sleep on the floor, or pressed up against the wall
- but you got mad at him for even suggesting such a thing
- there was more than enough space for the two of you to sleep, you argued, though there was barely enough room for one
- it was comical, trying to press up against him, and find a spot comfortable enough for the both of you to lay
- it was jarring to you when he removed a single pauldron for you to rest your head on his clothed shoulder
- you felt like you had violated him in some way, seeing him just the lightest bit more bare than usual
- though you were slightly uncomfortable from the rest of the beskar pressing up into your body, you were lulled to sleep in minutes from the sound of his steady heartbeat
EZRA
- the cots had never been a long term solution
- that you knew
- so when the morning comes around, and your cot drops your ass on the floor, you wish you gotten new sleeping arrangements the last time you were in town
- you were just wishing it had taken longer for them to fall apart the way they had
- there wasn't much on the green, in terms of furnishing markets
- the cots had been the only barrier between you and the floor, and now, there was nothing protecting you from the frigid, uninsulated ground of your broken down ship
- it was ezra who offered up the idea: put one blanket down on the floor, and use the other one to cover the both of you with
- you took a second to ponder it, thinking of any idea, any reason that could be used to save you from having to sleep next to ezra, the man who had been so warm and kind to you, but you had frozen him out, because of your ridiculous crush on him
- you offered up the idea of just disassembling the cots and using the cloths as protection from the cold
- but this wiseass pulls out the cloth from the cot and his blanket and compares the two, and there's no way the cloth is going to have any integrity making contact with the ground
- so you agree, and when nightfall comes, you're too exhausted from harvesting all day to fight with him
- he puts his blanket down as protection, and you all but collapse on top of in
- ezra does you the service of tucking you in, before climbing in next to you, and you're soothed by his warmth
- not soothed enough that you fall asleep immediately, still unnerved by the idea of sleeping so close to him, hearing him breathe, feeling him move
- but he throws his good arm over your body and pulls you into him, muttering something about the cold
- and your heart melts just a little bit as you fall asleep, pressed up against his chest
FRANKIE
- frankie had been upset for weeks after his divorce, which was to be expected
- but everything had been so stressful on him, and you were getting worried for his mental health
- he hadn't been answering calls, he'd cancelled plans with you last minute, which is something he never did, and he hadn't been doing anything for himself, just living in a rut of paperwork, sleeping, eating, and going to work
- so when he calls you up to ask you to go camping with him, you obviously say yes
- it's almost a two hour drive to the campsite, and frankie is fairly quite, which isn't usual, but you get some good music going and some good conversation going, and soon enough, you and frankie are laughing and singing your heads off on your way there
- it's getting dark when you arrive, and you make quick work of getting everything out of his car when he realizes something is off
- "oh no" he exclaims, and you fear the worst
- "what? what's wrong?"
- "I brought the small tent."
- "how small is the small tent?"
- "i brought the four-person tent, not the ten person tent."
- "are you kidding frankie? i'm sure we'll fit in a four-person—“
- "i'm telling you, it's not as big as you think it is, trust me."
- when the tent is complete, four-person is an exaggeration
- it's a four-person tent if the four-people were sardine packed and the size of children
- it's going to be just enough room for both you and frankie to lie down in with your sleeping bags
- but that's for a later time, because frankie has marshmallows to roast and lots of things to tell you after he's been ignoring you for a whole week
- he apologizes and you sit next to him at the firepit on your site, and you listen to him talk, and give him advice, and rest your head on his shoulder
- and when it's late into the night and you two go to retreat to bed, you have to squish up against his broad shoulders that seem so much broader in the small tent
- and when he wakes with nightmares of his fighting buddies and far too many sleepless nights, he pulls you close to him, and falls asleep again, until the sunlight streams through the front flap of the tent far too early in the morning
WHISKEY
- that day’s mission was harsh
- it had you spent, not only physically, but mentally as well
- as you lie awake in your bed, you realize you’re not getting to sleep tonight, whether or not you had another important mission that morning
- the hotel bed was creaky and entirely not your bed from home and the air conditioner was broken so it was freezing
- you figure there’s no better time than the present, and you’re well aware whiskey is right next door
- if he’s awake, you’ll ask him to have a drink with you, and if he’s asleep, you can just hop into bed with him
- he’s a deep sleeper anyway
- you’re careful turning the knob into his room, just in case he’s asleep, and you spot him in his bed, on his side, breathing softly, room cloaked in darkness
- you come around on his side of the bed and you whisper his name
- he stirs a little
- you debate going back to your room and just toughing it out, but he doesn’t give you the chance
- he’s up, groggy and hair tousled and in just a plain t-shirt
- “sweetheart? what are you doin’ here? what’s goin’ on?”
- you tell him you didn’t want to sleep alone tonight, and he wipes the sleep from his eyes and squints at you, using only the moonlight to help him see
- “what kind of gentleman would i be if i refused you my bed?”
- this makes you smile, and he lifts the covers for you to get in with him
- you plant your head on his shoulder and drape an arm over his chest, cozying up to him as close as possible
- his hand rests comfortably on your back, and he breathes rhythmically
- and you’re silently grateful he doesn’t ask questions, just lets you curl up into his side ands lets you fall asleep with him there
JAVIER PEÑA
- it happened in a flurry of passion and kisses, hands roaming his body and yours after a far too close dance with death
- if it had not been for his bulletproof vest, he'd be lying in a hospital or a morgue
- but he wasn't
- his body was warm and so was yours and the ride to his apartment was far too quiet for your liking and his
- it was only appropriate you accompanied him for a drink after such a great victory for the DEA, but it had taken a toll on both of you, mentally
- you more so than him, which is why you ended up drinking much more than you normally would have when you drank with javi
- he tried to laugh away the stress, complaining about his sore and bruised ribs, but the room was still tense
- emotions ran rampant through your body, and when he brings it up, tears start to pool in your eyes at the thought seeing him for the last time, in a suit, at his own funeral he wouldn't attend if he had the choice
- he sets his drink down and pulls you into his arms, holding your waist and cupping the back of your neck, stroking behind your ear as he listens to you cry softly in his shoulder
- he reassures you he's fine, nothing happened to him, and you pull away from him, grab his face, and stare into his eyes
- he smiles kindly at your own red ringed eyes, irritated from crying, as you try to memorize each streak of brown in his own
- it's too much for the both of you, and you pull him into a kiss
- his mouth is surprisingly soft compared to your own drunk passion, and as much as he'd love to take you right then and there on his couch, he knows he'd regret it if you woke up the next morning and regretted it too
- so he entertains the kiss, not that he minds, and leads you to his bedroom
- where the silk sheets and heavy comforter that smell so strongly of javier peña pull you to sleep next to him, faster than you'd like to admit
MARCUS MORENO
- missy and your daughter had always gotten along very well
- you were very familiar with marcus, and could even call yourselves friends to an extent
- your daughters were very intelligent little girls, and knew that if they got the two of you talking when you came to pick your daughter from his house, they would have at least another hour to play while you two chatted endlessly about boring adult things
- for missy's birthday party, she had wanted all of her friends over for a huge sleepover, and of course her father caved
- he couldn't say no to her no matter how much he tried
- marcus, the genius he was, figured that if the kids were all under one roof having fun, why not let the adults have fun too?
- everyone was invited
- the kids would have lots of different fun activities to choose from, from swimming, to games in the backyard, and a movie night under the stars outside
- and the adults were welcome to stay, chat, drink, and play adult card games marcus had saved for special occasions
- the night of the sleepover, a dozen children and adults were packed into his backyard, watching some new movie he had rented the missy was excited about
- but it was freezing, and you hadn't expected to be outside for so long
- marcus realizes this and he leans over quietly, so not to disturb the movie
- "are you cold?"
- "oh! no, it's okay, i'll be fine—“ you try to excuse yourself, but he gets up without a word, and returns with a sweatshirt of his
- it fits snugly over your head, and completely eliminated the chill in your bones
- it doesn't take long for your eyes to start getting heavy, and soon enough, you're passed out on marcus' shoulder
- "what if we camp out here for the night?" he suggests, and the kids are more than excited
- the adults know what he's up to
- but they let him anyway
- it'll be great to tease him about later, and besides, you guys are adorable together
MARCUS PIKE
- working together with marcus was always a joy
- he was always very respectful and funny
- you knew he had his heart broken more than once in the past, so even though you dropped hints that you'd want something more with marcus, you let him take it at his own pace
- when you dropped by his place that night, with important new documents you had received right before you left work and chinese food, you're ecstatic when he lets you in
- you spend hours pouring over the documents, making sure every single detail was covered and examined, when you realize how tired you are, and how loud the rain is coming down outside his window
- "it's getting really late. i should leave," you say, but marcus stops you
- "you could always, y'know, stay the night if you wanted. i'd let you have my bed."
- you smiled at him, but politely decline, as you wouldn't want to kick him out of his bed, but you yawn again
- "look, you're exhausted, and it's pouring" he points out, "you know most accidents happen by people falling asleep behind the wheel when it's raining?"
- you laugh at him
- "you just made that up,"
- "i did, but you should stay. if you don't want to i totally understand, but you'd be missing out. my bed is really comfortable."
- "is that why you're always late to work?" you quip, and close the files
- he gasps in mock shock
- "that was one time, and my alarm didn't go off," he claims, smiling at you
- he lends you a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and you pretend to not see a slight blush on his face when you walk out into his bedroom with them on
- marcus was right when he said his bed was really comfortable
- somehow, in the middle of the night, you two find each other, his face pressed into your shoulder, your arms wrapped around him, and the rain comes down even harder
MAX PHILLIPS
- "i just need some space from him, is all."
- that's all you had to tell him for max phillips to be on your side, rubbing your shoulder and telling you that all men suck anyway, you didn't need that jerk of a boyfriend to be happy
- well, now ex-boyfriend
- of course he had ulterior motives, and you knew this, but you didn’t care
- your heart wanted someone to watch movies with and eat a pint of ice cream out of the tub with you, and if max was the one who would do that, you’d settle with him for the night
- the way he pulled you into his arms, and pressed his body up against yours, was more than comforting
- he made funny jokes, tried tickling you, anything he could think of to get you to smile for him
- and for the most part, you did
- you were sick of your ex bringing the mood down the way he did, no matter how much you missed him
- the movie has gotten boring a long time ago, but you listened to max’s breathing, and felt his chest rise and fall behind you, and it was enough to lull you to sleep
- and he would’ve woken you up, to take you to his bed, but he was scared you’d leave to go home if he did
- so he took his couch throw, pulled it over the two of you, turned off the television, and settled back as you got comfortable on his chest
- this was a side of max phillips you’d never seen before, and you didn’t expect to see any time soon
- so you relished in it, and let sleep pull you in
MAXWELL LORD
- his head aches, and his eye is still bleeding on the plane back to washington d.c.
- the ride back is silent, save for the rumbling of the engine
- he rests his head against the wall of the airplane for most of the ride there, and you take comfort in knowing while he’s asleep, he’s not in pain
- when he starts getting restless, having what you think is a nightmare, you start holding his hand, stroking your thumb up and down his soft skin
- it takes him a minute, but he calms down, and you don’t let go of his hand
- with nothing to do but watch him sleep, you decide taking a nap too would be your best option
- which is when the plane hits a particularly rough patch of turbulence
- he bounces awake, nervous and alert, and you tell him it’s just the plane, everything’s fine
- when you pull him into your shoulder, he takes the opportunity to fall back asleep
- you can feel the tension in his neck just by having him rest his head on your shoulder
- you keep a firm grip on his hand, when your own eyes start to get heavy
- your head rests on his, and the rest of the ride there is smooth and painless
OBERYN MARTELL
- he had been pursuing you for quite some time
- as the second son of a king, he was more than accustomed to people saying yes to appease him
- he was forward with you, and you were forward back with him, and he liked that
- it was your words that told him you weren't looking for anything long term, that if he were to pleasure you, and you him, he would be nothing more than a simple one night stand
- boy did he prove you wrong
- your legs were so weak afterward, you couldn't bare to get up
- he took incredibly good care of you, squeezing your sore thighs and rubbing your aching muscles, pressing kisses up and down your back, brushing the hair out of your face
- it only increased your attraction to him when he brought in more people, caring for them and having them care for you, and by the time you had finished, you felt as though you couldn't physically go another round that night
- he purred in your ear that every night with him would be a night like this, and you whined back, making him grin and capture your mouth in a passionate kiss
- you didn't mean to fall sleep with him, but all the nibbling bites at your ear and the serotonin coursing through your veins had you spent for the night
- he let you sleep, and even stayed for a while before being summoned for an important meeting
- you made a mental note that eventually, you two would need to do that again, because you slept like a baby the whole night through
PERO TOVAR
- it's below freezing when you settle down for sleep that night
- no matter how much wind the tent tried to keep out, it just wasn't enough
- you're bundled up in all the clothes you had brought with you, the only blanket that could be spared, anything that could try to keep you warm, but nothing’s working
- the cold just bleeds through the blanket and your clothes, into your legs and chest and bones so that you can’t fall asleep if you tried
- you figure the only way you’ll be able to get any rest to be ready for the next day, is to go find a warmer place to sleep
- if the fire’s still going, you’ll rest there
- you shiver as you pick up your things, but your interrupted by tovar, who comes in with a thick fur blanket wrapped around his shoulders
- “where are you going?”
- “i was just going to sleep next to the fire,” you say, trying to keep the chill out of your voice
- “it’s going to be cold tonight. lay down.” he instructs, and you oblige
- he lays the blanket down over you and climbs underneath it next to you, so that your shoulders touch and watch him for a second before he turns over and tries to go to sleep without a word
- you pull the blanket up to your shoulders and you feel ten times warmer already, but it’s the heat from tovar that really entices you
- so you push back against him, your back against his, and fall asleep with the warmth of his muscles against yours
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.”
oh shit who stole ur stuff
it doesn’t matter anymore, i filed a copyright claim against them and they took it down quickly afterward. just keep an eye on wattpad “imagines” books, because that’s where i’ve noticed most of the plagiarism is going on. big love y’all!
thanks for writing the john b fic i requested it had such good vibes, especially at the end! i loved it!!💜💜
THANK YOU SO MUCH. I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU! keep the requests coming in!
masterlist?
you can find my masterlist here! it’s consistently updated, but if you ever notice im slacking call me out please :) and there’s also a link in my bio, called masterlist which send you straight to, you guessed it, my masterlist
🌺💘🌷 Get to know your mutuals! When you get this, it means someone wants to know more about you, so list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know! They can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing. When you’re done, send this to 10 people you want to get to know better!🌷💘🌺
this is so sweet, thank you sophia!
1. I’m going to be a high school senior next year and still have no idea what i want to do with the rest of my life :(
2. i match my shirts to my shoes, and i wear strictly converse everywhere i go
3. my favorite song to play on the guitar is let her go by passenger and i know it by heart
4. i’m a hair dye virgin! I’ve only ever used spray-wash out dye for like halloween and stuff
5. i listen to holiday music all year round. working out? christmas music. eating breakfast? halloween music. fourth of july? thanksgiving songs. it’s the best.
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.”
your frank imagine was so good!!
you restore my faith in tumblr anon :) big love. for you, i will keep writing for our favorite boy
nat | she/her | gryffindor | sagittarius | xviii
54 posts