John B Imagine - Blog Posts

lazy river

request: hell yeah prompt list time! kissing john b in the rain for love and longing? love your content btw summary: it’s been a long time since you’ve been to a water park. jon b knows this, and wants to change that.

pairings: john b. x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: super fluffy. real cute. might rot your teeth.

a/n: requests still open! i got an AP exam this week. i also have to finish a create task i’ve had weeks to work on and haven’t, so... wish me luck. big love! 

It’s just how you remember it as a child; all funnel cakes and water slides and screaming children and too hot pavement. Exactly where you want to be when summer's in full swing. 

Probably the best unofficial date you’ve ever been on.

You don’t know how much money John B. had to save up in order to get you there, but the topping on the cake was his ability to score a free bus ride to and from going with a small church group. You'd never known him to be religious, but it was an eventful ride for the two of you. John B. was playing the role of full blown Christian boy, and it was so hard to hide your smiles and giggles that everyone must've thought you were his even more Christian friend. K-love plagued the speakers, and you and John B. agreed some of it wasn't bad, but most of the kids were insufferably nice, to a point where it was almost disingenuous. Standing in line with them was a pain, but as soon as you were able to, you two booked it off to the umbrellas, searching desperately for two lounge chairs. Maybe even one at this point. Anything really, until you found a small bunch of chairs left secluded by a family whose child was not having a good time. It was a perfect spot right under the umbrella allowing you to spread your towels out and leave the cooler by the chair. John B. was fast to attack the food in there; sandwiches, chips, fruits, cheese. You name it and JJ had gotten (stolen) it from somewhere for you two. “You’re gonna get sick,” you commented, as he scarfed down a sandwich. The smell of sunscreen plagues the area. You rubbed some onto your face. John B. had miraculously thought of everything except spray on sunscreen, so you were forced to either buy some from the gift shop at a ridiculously inflated price, or use the lotion. “Sick shmick. Do you want to go on some rides?” He says, wiping his dirty hands down on his towel. The towel that was supposed to wipe down his wet body. You grimaced, but then he slipped his shirt off and shimmied off his flip flops. He was so well toned and tan already. You can’t imagine him wanting to get any tanner. “Yes I do, actually. Can you get my back first?” You say, and wonder if John B. actually forgot the spray on sunscreen or opted for the lotion instead for this reason. His hands were firm on your shoulders as he applied the sunscreen, rubbing the taut muscle there and going dangerously low down your back. It sends a shiver down your spine and he can so obviously tell because he does it again to gauge your reaction. He ruins it though, by sending you off with a buddy pat on your shoulders. “Let’s do pirates plunge first,” he said, and it made you smile how excited he got. You wondered how long it’s been for him too. “No,” you argue, “we have to work our way up to that.” "Do NOT tell me you're planning on staying in the lazy river the whole time," he said, turning to where the middle aged adults who obliged their children lounged, floating leisurely under bridges and waterfalls. It made him shiver. "It's a great place to tan," you teased, and he glared at you. You smiled, and  stretched upward. "You want sunscreen?" You ask, and he looks like he's about to say no, but he nods his head yes. His back is smooth under your hands, and you make sure to lather his shoulders up nicely. You hand him the bottle when you're finished, and he scoffed. "You only did half," he says. "You can do the rest," you assure, and he rolls his eyes, squirting a glob of cream onto his palm before smearing it over his chest. "This kind of half-assery won't be tolerated," he jokes, "I'm going to have to report you to the manager." "Oh please. You're the king of half-assery." He gasps as he rubs his palms down his face, leaving streaks of white there. "How dare you. You're fired." He claims, looking over to one of the smaller two-person slides. You lean over to him and rub in the white with your thumbs, cupping his face a little. He watches your face the whole time, which, you have to admit, is a little creepy. When you're done, you shove him for good measure, before taking off in the other direction. The sun beats down hot on your shoulders, and you two spend hours waiting in lines and talking and spending time together. You could see the burn on John B.'s face and expected you were going to feel the burn too later on that night. It was a blessing whenever clouds rolled through the sky, blocking out the sun for a brief period before she cleared them away. The rides were subpar, but you two didn't notice in the slightest, screaming and yelling at each other down the slides and in tubes. The two of you dodged children and concerned parents and other teenagers, bobbing and weaving in and out of lines. Dripping wet, bodies glistening in the hot sun, you two decided funnel cakes were in order. You stood in line as John B. toweled off by your seats, and he ducked under the belt to stand with you. It got him dirty looks, but he didn't notice. "When are the church kids leaving?" You pondered, stretching on your tip toes to look in front of John B., trying to catch a glimpse of any of them. "In like an hour," he says, glancing up at the big clock poised over the food shack. There was only one in the entire park, which must've been good for business. They were so hot when you got them that the powdered sugar on top was melting. But as you made your way back to your seats, you felt it. “Oh no,” you whine, the water droplets on your bare shoulder. You turn to look at John B., but his gaze is not with yours. His eyes are on the sky, the grey storm clouds rolling in above. You sigh loudly. It’s not like you’re afraid of getting wet. Of all the places to be when it rains, a water park ranks at least in the top ten. But now all the rides were going to be closed. For god knows how long. He looked back down at you, grinning, and then noted your crestfallen expression. He pouted. “Why the long face?” He said, grabbing your chin and shaking it. You jerked away from his grasp to sulk. “Our day is ruined,” you grumbled, walking down in the direction of your chairs, planted conveniently under one of the large umbrellas. He jogged to catch up to you, intertwining his hand with yours. He swings it back and forth childishly. If he could, he’d probably skip down the concrete path to your area. "We have to eat these anyway. It'll probably be done by then," he assured. Much to your dismay, it was not in fact done by then. "That bus is probably going to leave early now," you mused, checking the notification app they made all of you download before you left the bus. “No way. This day’s not over. It’s just getting started,” he said, plucking your phone from your grasp and burying it in the bag he had brought. He left the rest of the conversation to your imagination before he took off running, pulling you in tow. “Hey!” You cried out, but you couldn’t help the giggle rising out of your throat when he stumbled over his own bare feet a little. He hushed you as you caught up to him on the side of the lazy river. There was nobody in it. All the employees were at the front entrance of it, escorting people out. "Wanna do a river run?" He said, slipping down the ladder. Your eyes bulged. "They're gonna kick us out," you said, hopping in after him anyway. You two stood downstream, and waited for tubes. It only took a few seconds before John B. was passing you one, rain falling on his hair and chest. "Now it's cold," you complained, but John B. chastised you. "Stop being a baby. Hang on," he said, standing up for you to grab onto one of the handles of his tube. The lazy river in the rain was a lot more fun than a lazy river in the sunshine. It would only be a few minutes before you reached the front of the ride, where all the workers were stuck trying to collect the tubes. John B. was splashing water at you, and shaking your tube to get you to fall out. You return the favor by flipping him over near the waterfall. He came up sputtering, and in return tried to flip your tube as well, but you latched onto his neck. It was easy for him to support your weight in the water, and he grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist as the tubes got away from the two of you. They floated sadly down the river, under the waterfall by themselves. John B. chased them, hands supporting you, your arms wrapped around his neck. He moved slowly towards the waterfall, and threatened to throw you under it. You squealed and pushed yourself up against him as much as you could, cradling his head to your own. If you were going down, so was he. But he stopped just short. You pulled away just a bit, and he was looking at you, eyes intense, smile bright. Your heart skipped a beat and you swear you saw him move closer. You couldn't help but do the same. Until his lips were on yours, moving in sync with you, rain pelting your bodies. His hands were firm underneath you, and you knew he wouldn't let you fall. It had been so long since you realized you wanted to kiss him for the first time. You could settle for him kissing you. "I love you, you know that?" He remarked. You thought it was sweet, until he tossed you under the waterfall. You swear you could hear his laugh from under the water.

listen to the waves

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

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

pairings: john b. x reader x kie

word count: 1.2k

warnings: cuddle pile. that is all. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

pitaparka’s masterlist

updated: 2/7/21

*asterisks indicate smut!!

STAR WARS

PEDRO PASCAL HEADCANONS

sex*

when he’s sick

when you sleep with him for the first time

when you want him to choke you*

PEDRO PASCAL FANFICTION

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

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

THE AVENGERS

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

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

THE PUNISHER

hat trick - (billy russo x reader)

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

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

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

keepin’ busy - (frank castle x reader)

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

OUTER BANKS

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

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

coming attraction* - (jj maybank x reader)

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

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

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

eye of the storm - (jj maybank x reader)

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

hot and bothered* - (jj maybank x reader)

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

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

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

lazy river - (john b. x reader)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WRITING PROMPTS

quarantine prompts

writing prompt #1

allergic reaction prompts

christmas prompts 

halloween prompts

fall prompts 

flower meanings

a friend in need is a friend indeed

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

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

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

word count: 2.3k

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

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

The alcohol was overkill. She had to admit.

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

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

John B. watches from the doorway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJ gives John B. a look.

She smiles sweetly up at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJ stares at him.

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

JJ definitely is.

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

“No. I’m not gay.” He says, finally. 

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

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

He sighs loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s heavy breathing from all three of them. 

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

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

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

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

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

He sighs. He hates this part.

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

John B. looks at him suspiciously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pulls away.

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

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

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.”