Send Some In Folks! I Think These Would Be Really Cool To Do :)

Aw I love your recent Frankie imagine! Hope to see additional ones to that story, or just more in general! I really like your writing style 👍🏼

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!!!!!! you’ve made my day anon <3333 if you’d like to see more, i love getting requests and they’re always open! big love!!!

sex headcanons

note — NSFW. whelp. if anyone wanted proof of me being clinically insane, this is what you could show them. not only has all of my free time been devoted to watching anything with pedro pascal in it, this is also what i think about while watching these anythings. i know there are people out there who have loved him for longer and are even more obsessed than i, so i figured i would share my personal headcanons for the PPCU (pedro pascal cinematic universe, duh). big love for any fans of pedrito - nat

MANDO

- VIRGIN with a capital V

- did you see how he reacted when grogu touched his face? this man has not been touched since he was a child

- he grew up with the mandalorians but he was exposed to suggestive behaviors because, helloooo, bounty hunter

- you have to coax him into it, but it doesn't take much, since he plans on keeping you around long term

- plus, you're so good with the kid

- you provide him a safe space to explore both himself and also your body and he has no idea how lucky he is for it

- doesn't make very much noise, but loves to listen to you

- he won't last long, he’s so sensitive from years of going untouched, but this man's recovery time???

- unparalleled

- he also has the dick of a space porn star and doesn't know it

- but seriously, rice purity score is NOT lower than 90, and most of the boxes he checks are "running-from-the-police" related

- he really wants to be held and have someone run their hands through his hair and kiss his neck and hold his hands is that too much to ask???

EZRA

- his words are where he gets you

- who knew dirty talk could sound so elegant??? and poetic??

- what a tease he is, too

- he pants so heavily right in your ear holy sweet lord

- and loves to laugh during sex

- he doesn't take himself super seriously unless he gets super into it, which has been known to happen from time to time

- safe words have been used between you two, which there's no shame in, but he's so good to you afterward

- he loves aftercare, and being gentle and sweet after a rough session

- asks you what you want and makes you beg for it

- makes you feel like you're in control but really, he's the one in control

- will make you cum before he does

- kinky kinky boy, almost always willing to try what you want him to

- loves to pin you down, but after he loses his arm it becomes a bit harder, so he settles for holding you flush against his chest as you squirm in his strong grip

FRANKIE

- a little soft spoken, but will whisper in your ear in public because he knows it gets you riled up

- will stare you down from across the room with bedroom eyes

- he's got that pilot's precision if you know what i mean aha

- he's honest with you about what he likes and has no qualms about telling you up front

- gives off switch energy, but you're gonna have to really make it worth his while if you want to fuck him

- a very gentle touch, which he would love to be reciprocated

- he aches from years in the service, his back, his knees, his shoulders

- would probably drop dead if you gave him a massage as foreplay

WHISKEY

- what an arrogant piece of shit

- "gorgeous, darlin', sweetheart, sugar"

- he will butter you up like a roll on thanksgiving goddamn

- so straightforward, and very up in your face, but it got you to sleep with him the first time you met him, so you can't say it doesn't work

- not the best with his fingers, but dear lord that tongue does wonders when he's not talking

- is a man on a mission to please you

- will spend an absurd amount of time between your thighs, and loves to feel you try to push him away when you get oversensitive

- loves it when you get feisty

- pull his hair, bite down a little harder than usual, push him down onto the bed or forcefully unbuckle his pants and this man will be putty in your hands

- is SO LOUD, and expects the same from you

- doesn't understand that because you're not screaming to the heavens doesn't mean he's doing a bad job

- associates volume with pleasure which isn't always the case

- that's something you'll have to work on with him, but he's a patient man

JAVIER PEÑA

- keeps condoms and lube on hand at almost all times

- ohhhh boy is this man willing to go at it wherever, whenever, you name it

- will fuck you until he sweats, and keeps going afterward

- and will definitely do you right

- he fucks to feel in control, so good luck trying to take control with this one

- almost tries to distance himself from you at first, but really it scares him that he cares so much

- there's just something about orgasming at the same time as you that just makes his whole week, and your hole weak (ahaha)

- likes to fuck you from behind and fuck you roughly, hands both occupied at the same time, mouth on you, and dick inside you

- very hands on, but can be sweet afterward

- this man kisses like no other you've ever kissed before, he leaves you breathless

MARCUS MORENO

- leads by example wink wink

- will show you what he wants done to him, and is pretty vanilla, but in a good way

- is big on foreplay and also aftercare, probably one of the sweeter ones on the list

- he's almost methodical in his sex, very routine, but willing to deviate for you

- gentle, but deep, languid strokes

- thinks he's quieter than he actually is

- always has a lot on his mind, so he really appreciates it when you can ease some of his tension

- secretly was really experimental in college

- very attentive to your needs and likes to tease

- morning sex is his thing. when he gets home from a long day, he wants to eat and relax and sleep. but in the morning? before anyone is up and before breakfast is even being considered, he likes to wake you up with sweet bruises and roaming hands

MARCUS PIKE

- marcus is the type of man to respect your boundaries fully, keep copies of toys he knows you like at his house, and surprise you at work with flowers and a dirty quickie in the bathroom because you've wanted to try it so badly

- a more traditional way of thinking on sex, and semi-reluctant to do anything involving his ass, but will try it for you if you really want him to

- a very quick learner, this one, and incredibly intuitive

- what he lacks in skill he makes up for in enthusiasm

- it's almost like he can read your mind, when he uses just the right amount of pressure and uses just the right motion to make you cum for him

- you have no idea how anyone could give this up, let alone break his heart

- his favorite thing is having you ride him, your face buried in his neck as you grind your hips down as he whispers praise in your ear

- marcus isn't super kinky, but i'm sure you can convince him to try something new every once in a while

MAX PHILLIPS

- OFFICE. DESK. SEX.

- "a private word with you in my office, please."

- so very seductive. the hand on the small of your back gets you going and he knows it, but he'll have to be more subtle if he wants to keep you

- another one who will butter you up to get you to sleep with him. he's very obvious about it, so it may or may not work first time. regardless he's up for a challenge

- pays so much attention to your neck. you will have to invest in many turtlenecks if you want to be with max

- big on eye contact, except for the exception of fucking you senseless over his desk

- obviously, a vampire, so he's absolutely magic between your thighs

- is very personable with everyone else, mainly because he's a business major, but he LOVES to make you jealous, this man LIVES off of it

- will one hundred percent expect you to be putty in his arms immediately, and treats it as a competition if you aren't

- he WILL take it personally and will make it a personal goal of his to get you to like him and want to fuck him without using his powers

- a game of cat and mouse

- does not care at all about being loud in the workplace, but he likes to see you struggle to keep quiet, even if everyone else can hear you anyway

MAXWELL LORD

- has suCH a praise kink wow

- his favorite thing is to hear you moan and tell him he’s doing a good job

- a little more vanilla than his counterparts but does like to take control and be a little rough

- a switch sometimes, falls into ruts where he just wants someone to take care of him

- but he WILL NOT ASK FOR IT. his pride won't let him

- at first, he’s not as mindful of you as you’d like him to be

- his sex is fast and unpleasant with hands everywhere and mouths and teeth and touch

- so you sit him down, and show him what you like. very slow and sensual

- you take your time with him, and he eventually starts to do the same with you

OBERYN MARTELL

- remember din's rice purity score? yeah, oberyn's is maybe ten. which is pushing it

- when you meet him, he knows what he likes, and is very particular about it

- he's done his fair share of experimenting, but he's willing to try new things, if there's anything new to be tried

- takes control inside and outside the bedroom

- not afraid to show you your place

- he's the kinky one in the relationship, and he will let you explore his body all you want

- if he doesn't like it he will kindly redirect you, his hands on yours, stroking and tugging and redirecting pressure and placement so that you learn his body in and out

- loves to watch you with his girls and boys. what an exhibitionist this man is

- for most people, they have to choose between quantity or quality in their sex lives. oberyn martell is not most people

- he is a prince, and will not let you forget it, but likes it when you talk back and he has to punish you

PERO TOVAR

- the roughest one on the list, but not the kinkiest

- sex to him when he's at his worst is just a way for him to feel good and relieve stress

- when he's at his best, it's a way for him to make you scream his name

- very possessive about what's his, and if he has to show it in front of everyone else for them to know that he will do it

- this man fucks like a rabbit. how does he find the time??? nobody knows

- his libido is so high. you have no idea how he isn't absolutely spent at the end of a long day of fighting and training and wandering, but he'll fuck you where you lay if you let him and you're too tired to move

- once you accidentally walked in on him stroking himself, and the AUDACITY OF HIM

- he smirked, groaned, and asked you to help him out

- who could resist a man like that

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.”

when he’s sick headcanons

note — can you tell i was in a francisco morales mood when i wrote this? also, i’m incredibly soft. i just wanna hold them :’( also also send me your  own headcanons!! i wanna hear ‘em!! big love <3 - nat

MANDO

- he doesn’t know how he survived all those bouts of sickness alone when you step in to help him for the first time

- his body aches, and not the usual after-bounty-capture either

- his head is foggy, he can feel the sweat in his helmet, and his breathing is hard

- he can’t tell if it’s coming through the modulator, but when you bring soup up to the cockpit for him, he knows you know

- he takes it gratefully, knowing that if there was nobody else here he would have just gone to bed to sleep it off, dinner vetoed for the night

- your cold fingers wrap around the back of his neck, moving his cape as you do so, and he melts into you

- he doesn’t know that he lets out the smallest whimper when you do this, and it makes you want to tear off his helmet, pull him into your arms, and hold him until he’s better

- but you can’t, so you settle for a hand on his neck, and the tilt of a helmet when he drinks the soup in front of you, as requested

- he definitely has a fever, and maker knows what else

- so you tell him to get some rest, that you’d watch the ship and get him if anything went wrong

- you supervise him down the ladder, just in case, which he finds funny and sweet

- you wish you could squish into his bunk with him, but you don’t want to invade on his personal space, especially while he’s hot and sick

- you you settle into the cockpit, the ship on cruise control, and you check on him every once in a while, keeping grogu occupied and quiet while he gets some well deserved rest

EZRA

- you knew he would get it

- right after you recovered from your illness, he started displaying symptoms of the same one you had just gotten over

- shortness of breath, fever, aches, lethargy

- he had taken such good care of you, so it was only fair that you’d do the same in return

- resources were sparse and quarters were cramped on the green, but you did what you could to make him as comfortable as possible

- his feverish back was pressed up against your chest in a cot designed for one after he’d stripped down to his underwear to avoid overheating

- he really enjoyed you being the big spoon sometimes, and now was one of those times

- when he got too hot from your shared body heat though, you would sit on the floor next to the cot and stroke right behind his ear to get him to fall asleep

- you made sure he ate as much as he could keep down, and you gave him all the fluids you could spare for his speedy recovery

- it broke your heart to see your usually verbose boy so quiet and in pain

- he muttered fever nonsense to no one and whimpered in his sleep

- you moved your cot directly next to his in order to keep a close eye on him

- but you knew that with time he would heal, and that as soon as he started talking to you again he was getting better

FRANKIE

- he sweats through the sheets next to you in the early hours of the night

- you’re the one who wakes up first, and you honestly thought one of you had wet the bed because of how much liquid there was

- but you realize that it’s frankie, back drenched and sweating out whatever flu he had acquired from whoever he had gotten it from

- you wake him from what seemed to be a not great dream anyway, and when he realizes what happened, he apologizes, groggy from sleep and illness

- “no, no! i’m not mad, frankie, you just can’t sleep in this sweetheart. you’ll get more sick. how are you feeling?”

- he curls up deeper under the covers and you get out of bed to kneel next to him

- your hands card through his matted, sweat soaked hair, and you wipe the drops from his jaw

- “do you want a cool shower, baby? you’re soaked.” you suggest, but frankie is so out of it

- he was fine last night, you remember

- sure he didn’t eat dinner, and went to bed early, but you thought maybe he had a late lunch and a long day

- now, helping him out of bed to the shower, you understand that it was early onset symptoms of whatever he was battling

- he pressed heavily to your side and you’re nervous as you strip him down and get him into the tub

- he sways, and you’re not sure what you’ll do if he passes out, or hits his head, so you sit him down, take off the shower head, make sure the water coming out is room temperature, and you run she showerhead over his overheating body

- you’re careful not to get any water in his face and ears, and you don’t wash his hair, just his body with a gentle soap

- you figure this is one of the only times frankie will let you take care of him like this, so you milk it for all it’s worth

- you blow dry his hair on a low setting, just in case he has a headache, you change the sheets of your bed, you lay him down on his side and you bring him close to your chest

- which is how he falls asleep for the next few nights until his illness eventually subsides

WHISKEY

- he curls up in your lap on the couch as soon as he gets home from work, which is how you know something’s wrong

- but you ask him anyway

- “i don’t feel so great, sugar,”

- which scares you, because did he get drugged? is this just a regular illness? is this like a biowarfare mission gone wrong?

- you leave him to get the thermometer, and when you come back, he’s got sad eyes looking up at you that just break your heart

- turns out, it’s not biowarfare. just a fever of 100.4

- you slip your hands up the back of his shirt and it’s so warm, along with his forehead

- he moans weakly at your touch, worn and tired from his extensive mission that day

- he’s definitely been overexerting himself

- as you settle back onto the couch, he settles into your lap again

- you let him rest for a while, but not after long, you realize he’s fallen asleep, and you’re stuck there for god knows how long

- you turn the volume down on the tv just in case, and you stroke behind his ears and you play with his fingers

- it’s best to just let him sleep it off, and you're not opposed to letting him do it on your lap

- you imagine there are statesman resources you can use to help him, but if he’s feeling better after he’s slept it off, then maybe you won’t need to misuse them

JAVIER PEÑA

- you scared the shit out of him, knocking on his door like that

- in your blinding rage, filled with thoughts like “how dare he take the day off to bang hookers, to recover from his hangover, to generally be a hindrance to the fucking DEA,” you had not pondered the possibility that THE javier peña, was sick

- he’s pulling on a t-shirt just as he opens the door, wearing pajama pants, and it startles you to see him so disarmed and casual

- his eyes and nose are red, his hair is disheveled, and he looks... exhausted

- “wow, you look like shit."

- “i feel like shit,” he says, walking away from the door, sniffling

- you take this as an invitation in, and close the door behind you

- he collapses back onto his couch, where you assume he’s been all day, and wraps himself up in a thick afghan blanket

- his hands shake the slightest bit as he opens his lighter to ignite his cigarette

- you take a seat next to him and help him with his lighter, and he nods his thanks to you

- “you’re gonna be late,” he mutters, taking the cigarette from his mouth and blowing out smoke into his apartment, coughing it out halfway

- “i’ll call out,” you offer, eyes wandering up his blanket clad body

- he closes his eyes and lets his head rest on the back of the couch

- “go in. i’m just gonna sleep it off anyway,”

- you lean in close to him and press your hand against his forehead and he freezes, staring at you

- you run your hand down his neck and feel his warmth, and he melts into your touch just a little bit

- you offer to only call out for a few hours to get him settled and make sure he doesn’t die or something, and he lets you, simply because he knows his illness will only get worse

- when your time is up and you have to go back to work, javi’s eaten, gotten some fluids in him, and taken some pain meds

- you let him know that he can call you if he needs anything, and before you even walk out the door is sleeping contently on the couch

MARCUS MORENO

- you find out he’s sick when he calls you, and asks for a favor

- “hey, can you do me the biggest favor ever?”

- he’s super congested. at first you think it might not be him because of how grainy his voice is

- “i hate to do this to you on such short notice, but would you be able to pick up missy? i’m not feeling too hot right now.”

- when you make it back to their home, it's very clear why he thought he wouldn't be able to make it

- he's curled up in bed, tissues piled on his nightstand, trying to get some sleep, but clearly failing

- he notices the two of you come in, and you quietly usher missy away to her own room to entertain herself while her dad tries to get some rest

- he thanks you for picking up missy, and you tell him you'd be there for him whenever he needed you to be

- you make a special phone call as you care for marcus, keeping his curtains closed and running your cool hands up and down his back and shoulders until he felt like he could fall asleep

- you let him know that you'll be right back, that you were going to pick up a few things for him and that if he needed anything at all, just call

- knowing your chicken noodle soup skills were rusty, your special phone call had been to marcus' mother's house, where she had tupperware containers full of soup waiting for you to pick up for him

- when you get back to his house with pain meds, gatorade, and the soup, marcus is passed out in bed

- you don't want to wake him up, but you have a hunch that he hasn't eaten all day, so you whisper his name softly and lightly shake him awake

- he's so grateful and only eats a portion of what he normally does, but anything is better than nothing

- and you don't want him feeling even more sick as a result

- you end up eating the incredibly nostalgic and rich soup with missy at the table and talk to her about your day while marcus gets some sleep

MARCUS PIKE

- it's only when you get home from work that you realize something's wrong with marcus

- he's asleep on the couch

- which would have been fine, if you had worked overtime, or had gotten out late, but it was only four thirty

- plus, you two had planned on going to see a movie you he was excited about tonight in theatres and maybe grab dinner after

- the tv plays lowly in the background, and he hasn’t changed out of his work clothes yet

- he startles when you close and lock the door, and rubs his temples, eyes squeezed shut in pain

- "marcus, are you okay?"

- "yeah, i'm fine." he tells you, and when you mention the date, he looks shocked that he forgot about it

- "oh my god, you're right. i can’t believe i forgot, i’m so sorry babe, i'll get ready right now."

- you tell him it's no biggie, but he insists

- after you've taken off your work clothes and showered quickly for your date, you realize the two of you are most definitely staying in

- he's promptly fallen back asleep on the couch, and he looks adorable

- you put on your pajamas and he does too, and you settle into the couch behind marcus, flipping through channels with him

- he says he doesn't care what you watch, as long as it's not too bright or loud

- so you choose some old black and white movie with the subtitles on

- normally you're the one between his legs, as he rubs your shoulders and plays with your hair

- but this time, he's curled up into you, his back pressed up against your chest, his head tucked into your shoulder using it as a pillow

- you figure you didn't really want to see the new movie anyway, and decide takeout and casablanca was a better way to spend your time with your sick boyfriend

MAX PHILLIPS

- a big baby

- but he IS a vampire and DOES NOT get sick, which slips your mind completely when you come home after some overtime and find him paler than usual on the couch, his head in his hands

- you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, and he refuses, but he caves when you sit down next to him and start stroking his head, and playing with the hair at the base of his neck

- he tells you that after the whole vampire fiasco with the company, he was set for a while, and has been feeling great, but he hasn’t had human blood in so long that it’s made him weak

- he gives you a sad puppy dog look, and you know he’s being an asshole about it, but you hate to see the dark circles under his eyes or the color his skin turns when he’s like this

- so you oblige, but you give him STRICT instructions to follow, otherwise you won’t do it again

- don’t take more than a pint, don’t leave unnecessary bruises, if you use your safe word he has to stop immediately, and he has to make it as quick and painless as he possibly can

- he nods enthusiastically, and pulls you into his lap

- he nuzzles into your neck, and grabs your chin, anchoring himself to you

- he blows softly on your skin, and presses hard kisses to the area to get your blood flowing and disarm you

- which isn’t fair because he knows your neck is so sensitive

- it’s a sharp prick when he ejects his fangs into your body and you stop moving completely, your hand fisting at his shirt, just listening to your breathing and his soft moans echoed against your skin

- out of habit your rub soothing circles into his back, more to sooth yourself then anything

- minutes pass, and you start to feel light headed and are about to tell him to stop when he pulls away, grinning ear to ear at you

- he’s back on your neck in seconds though, licking and sucking the leaking blood from the small holes he’s left in your skin

- now that, that feels much better than the bloodsucking that was going on originally

- you jump when he presses soft kisses to the sensitive area along your throat and dives a hand between your legs

- looks like someone’s feeling better already

MAX LORD

- tries to power through it as much as he can with pain killers and cough syrups, but after he almost passes out at dinner after a week of symptoms, you beg him to take at least a day off to recover

- that morning, his hair is a mess, he missed a button on his shirt, and his tie was uneven

- he was about to put on two different colored socks when he begrudgingly obliges

- you unbutton his shirt and help him take off his tie

- it’s easy to bring him back to bed after that, and you let him hold you from behind like a teddy bear, no matter how uncomfortable his arm is shoved under your neck

- usually he likes to be held, but he can feel his own back burning up, so he decides to hold you instead

- he whimpers in his sleep, plagued by fever dreams and his traumatic past

- so when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, something he so very rarely does, you’re concerned

- “i’m sorry, for waking you, i just... i just need... you... i want—“

- it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he needs a hug

- you hold him and rub his back until he falls back asleep again, in your arms

- when he wakes up with a killer headache, you fight to keep him in bed again, rubbing his temples and pressing kisses to his forehead

- he falls back asleep in less than five minutes

- needless to say, one more day off couldn’t hurt

OBERYN MARTELL

- it’s not often than he gets sick, surprisingly, considering how close he gets to so many different people

- when you arrive at his chambers that morning, the guards seem keen on not letting you in

- you argue with them, but they insist oberyn didn’t want anyone in there

- you call them out, obviously upset and visibly frustrated when his doors creak open and you see him, in a robe, hair messy and pressed down to his forehead

- he quietly tells the guard to let you in, and you’re a little confused

- he sits down on his bed and looks up at you with guilty eyes

- “apologies, my love, but I don't want you to see me like this”

- you scoff and roll your eyes at him, moving in front of him

- you take his head in your hands, and he stares up at you

- “apology accepted, but i’m offended, my prince.”

- he scrunches his eyebrows and presses his chin to your stomach

- you run your hands through his hair and he brings his hands to your waist

- “you think mere illness could keep me away? keep me away from you?”

- his confusion melts into a small smile, and he lets his head rest against your belly as you pull him into you

- “can i get you anything, oberyn? wine, medicine?”

- “no, my love. just you is enough for me.”

PERO TOVAR

- wants to be left alone for the most part

- grumpy in general, and it doesn't get better when he's sick

- he'll let you wipe a cool cloth over his forehead and neck, and doesn't complain

- he says he doesn’t want you there because he doesn’t want you to catch what he has

- you know, survival rates are low for things like this at this point in history

- but really, like oberyn, he doesn’t want you to see him weak

- he’s afraid it’ll ruin your image of him in your mind

- william asks you to get some rest, as they can’t afford to risk more days at the campsite with sick travelers

- so you oblige, keeping your distance from pero, but you stay vigilant

- you stand guard for him for most of the night, listening to him breathe, watching his chest rise and fall, until you eventually fall asleep too

- but you’re up early, with the rest of the men, except pero, who sleeps well into daylight

- the rest of them take off, desperate to find something for dinner, but you stay back with him, stroking his forehead, a gentleness that’s rarely ever been afforded to him, listening to him ramble half in english, half in spanish, but he has your full attention

- it would be a rough few days until he recovered, but his muttered thanks and appreciation for you was more than enough for you to do it all over again if he ever needed you to

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

so um wow ok um not to sound creepy, but my name is natalie, i’m a sagittarius, i’m a griffindor and i’m 17 (i can’t handle the word penis though because i was an overachieving child that didn’t interact with the opposite gender so don’t worry i don’t read any of your 18+ fics but don’t judge please im just severely awkward when it come to sex and physical intimacy 👉👈) but um hi twin

hey twin!!!!! that’s the craziest thing ever, now we HAVE to be friends it’s a crime if we’re not!! i also was an overachieving child but that manifested itself into the person writing before you today,  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

so yeah, shoot me a message, sagittarius-gryffindor-natalie who is 17! maybe we’re even more alike than we originally thought!!!!

;)

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.

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.”

Outer banks JJ fics are amazzzing. Sending good vibz for you to continue writing them.

good vibz received. this is how i feel when i get messages like this. im a high schooler at three am contemplating my existence listening to tongue tied and i love you and life is great and if you listen to it too we can vibe together and be buds. i will continue writing them :) big love bby