OMFJDJDS I JUST READ THE THREESOME IMAGINE.... WHEWWWW That Was Hot

OMFJDJDS I JUST READ THE THREESOME IMAGINE.... WHEWWWW that was hot😳

thank you! i have more smut coming (hah) soon! outer banks and also something special with everyone’s favorite husband, frank castle. i’d also like to start writing for more marvel characters as well and maybe even star wars! so please feel free to just send something in :) big love, pals 

You’ve outdone yourself again. “ hot and bothered” chef kiss -🐞

im so happy you exist. you have a beautiful soul my little ladybug friend. keep doin you pal. big love :)

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.

you’ve got a friend in me

request: ur writing is so good i love ur fics :’) can u do a confessing feelings kiss with jj

summary: 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

pairings: jj maybank x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: healthy family dynamics. i'm ur dad now.

a/n: this is super fluffy and i love swings ;) big loveeee

“This is worse than I remember it being,” you comment, and JJ stares down at you in his lap.

“What? The cinematic masterpiece that is Toy Story one isn’t good enough for you?” He says, and you turn your attention back to the screen.

“It’s just Toy Story, and sorry to burst your bubble, but… It’s… ugly,” you comment with a chuckle, and he gasps.

“How dare you. Get out of my house, I’m kicking you out,” he says, and stands, ejecting you from his lap onto the floor.

“Ow!” You cry playfully, staring up at him in disbelief.

“This is my fuckin’ house,” you say to him.

A loud, “Language!” comes from the kitchen, courtesy of your father. JJ stares at you with wide eyes, and you both break out into giggles. You sit down next to him on your couch, resting your head on his shoulder, him resting his head on yours. The movie plays on. You feel JJ sigh softly. You’re both comfortable with each other there.

Your dad pokes his head into the doorway.

“Hey! No touching! Ten feet apart. You on that end, you on that end,” he chides, pointing a spoon covered in red sauce at the two of you. You shake your head and sigh, scooting away from JJ.

“I don’t want you even looking at each other. Move over more,” he says to you, and you do, moving to the edge of the couch. He’s still not satisfied.

“More.” He says, and you glare at him.

“Do you want me to just go to my room, and JJ can stay here, and we can just text each other about the movie?” You say. He ponders it and you roll your eyes.

“It’s not like that, dad,” you say. You can practically hear the disbelief on his face. JJ readjusts himself in his seat.

“It’s not like that dad,” your father mocks.

“Yeah, it wasn’t like that with your mother and I. Look what happened. A baby. A house. A dog.”

“We don’t have a dog.” You say, wondering if he’s lost his mind already. At such an age, too.

“What’s on the couch over there?” He says, pointing the spoon at JJ, and you gasp.

“Dad!” You cry, but JJ seems to find it a lot funnier than you do.

“That’s cruel sir. That’s cruel,” He comments playfully, and your dad smiles at him.

“He’s kidding JJ,” your mom says, smacking your father on the shoulder and poking her head into the living room now too. No privacy in this house.

“Are you staying for dinner?” She questions. JJ puts his hand on his heart and looks at her with love in his eyes.

“Ma’am. It would be my pleasure to eat your cooking.”

“I’m the one doing all the cooking!” Your father exasperates, gesturing to his apron.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s doing any cooking,” you mutter under your breath for JJ to hear, and he smiles at you, all round cheeks and tight lips.

“The attitude is unreal,” your dad jokes, going back into the kitchen, leaving the two of you to the movie once more.

It takes you a few minutes and some comments that go unnoticed to realize JJ isn’t watching the movie. He’s staring at the screen, but he’s thinking. Hard.

You scoot closer, tossing a cautionary glance over your shoulder. Your dad is at the stove, out of sight, tending to some pasta.

“What’s up?” You ask, and he puts on a fake smile for you.

“Nothing,” he replies. He goes to stare at the screen again.

“Really? What just happened?” you question, and he looks at you quizzically. You cover his eyes with your hands.

“What just happened in the movie?” You quizz, and his shoulders fall.

“Buzz and Woody just did that thing. They got kidnapped.”

You remove your hands from his face and tuck your feet up under you.

“You’re not even watching it. What’s the point of keeping it on,” you say, reaching for the remote on the coffee table.

“No, I wanna finish it!” He whines, racing to grab the remote before you do. He gets there first, and tucks the remote underneath him, effectively changing the channel to some home renovation show.

You smile and throw your hands in the air. He rolls his eyes, taking out the remote and turning off the TV.

“What do you want to do then?” He says, putting the controller back on the coffee table, next to the centerpiece your mother loved oh so dearly, no matter how ugly it was.

“I want you to tell me what’s up with you,” you say, resting your arm on the side of the couch.

JJ glances toward the kitchen, where your parents worked away, cooking and washing dishes for that night’s dinner.

“Let’s go on a walk,” he suggests, popping off the couch, bounding over to your door.

“Okay?” You question, and getting up, you pop your head into the kitchen.

“We’re gonna go on a walk,” you say, and your parents stare at you with accusations written all over their faces.

“Okay,” your father starts, “But no hand holding. You’re both old enough to know how to cross the street by yourselves—actually, stay on opposite sides of the street, you on one side, him on the other—” as your dad rambles on, your mother smiles at you, waving you off. You grin, practically running out the door. You meet JJ outside, and as you both turn to go, your dad pops his head out the window.

“Don’t talk to strangers! Stranger danger!” He cries, and is pulled back into your house, presumably by your mom.

You push JJ off and you both start running nowhere, in no particular direction toward no particular place, JJ leading.

You both stop on a side street, panting, small pogue houses surrounding you, covered in greenery, the setting sun painting the empty street a golden orange.

JJ smiles at you, then stands and keeps walking. You follow behind him until you can catch up.

‘Where are we going?” You ask, but JJ doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look back at you. He’s walking into the sun.

“JJ, where are we—”

You get cut off, by JJ taking off again, and you sigh, before you yourself take off into a run, then realize that JJ is sprinting.

“JJ!” You cry, breathless.

“Slow down, asshole!”

He stops at the end of a street, waiting for you, breathing heavily, bent over, hands on his knees.

“Language,” he says, as soon as you’re next to him, “we’re near a school,”

He gestures to the mother and child on the crosswalk sign, then crosses the street without looking. On this side of the island, it’s darker, the sun obscured by trees and the school, eclipsing the playground JJ was hopping the fence of. You cross the street more carefully to join him.

You find him on the swingset, waiting for you. Once he was small enough for it, but now, his knees are bent and he’s crouched down into it, swinging slow and low with his feet planted on the ground. You smile as you take a seat next to him.

“The fuck is wrong with you,” you question, and he leans his head against the chainlink metal holding his seat up.

“Do you really want to ask that,” he says, before launching himself into a full swing.

You watch him push himself back and forth getting higher and higher up into the air with each kick.

“JJ,” you say, but he ignores you. He’s trying to go as high as the swing will let him. You’re afraid it’s going to snap, or he’s going to go too high and fall right out of it. Your feet stay on the ground as you swing yourself leisurely back and forth.

“JJ,” you say more sternly, and he laughs up in the air, high on adrenaline. He takes one look at your cautious face and catapults himself off the swing at the highest point, jumping into the wood chips that would most definitely find their way into both of your shoes for the walk home. The sun is even lower now.

He sits in the chips, knees pulled tightly into his chest, staring at you, a hyena grin on his face that you’ve grown accustomed to.

“You should try that,” JJ comments, but you keep swinging. You used to do that too, when you were younger. It makes your heart hurt to think you’ve outgrown it, so you push yourself just a little bit higher.

JJ sits next to you again, still in his seat. He grabs the chains on either side of him, twisting back and forth.

“Your family is really nice,” he says, out of the blue.

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m… I’m lucky to have them—”

“I don’t want to be…” JJ cuts you off, trails off.

“I want it to be like that,” he says, and you’re confused. The sky is blue. Mosquitos will start to come out soon, but you’ve only been out for a little bit.

“What?” You ask, and he stares at you. You drag your feet in the wood chips, a little divot under both your swings. There’s only two of them. You remember racing to them after school with your best friend, hoping to get one before the other kids got there.

“I want us to be like that,” he says, and you’re dumbfounded.

“Not like your family, or your parents… well, kind of, but like… ah, I’m stupid, don’t listen to me.”

“What do you want us to be like, JJ,” you say, and you’re surprised at how low your voice is. You stare at your sneakers and one of your shoes is untied.

“You said…” he starts, and you can feel him looking at you, “You said it wasn’t like that. When your dad was like…” he trails. He traces nonsense patterns into the ground with the tips of his sneaker.

You take the opportunity to look at him. His eyelashes are long, and you lick your lips looking at his.

“And you want us to be like that,” you finish. JJ shakes his head.

“I’m fucking stupid, don’t even listen to me,” he says.

“I just thought your family was nice and…” he cuts himself off, and you place your hand over his, which is still holding the chain link metal keeping him off the floor.

He looks at you. His eyes are unsure.

You realize the ball is in your court.

You reach over him, grabbing the other chain from the swing, and it takes more effort than you realize to face him, so you get up and stand in front of him.

You’re taller than he is when in the swing. The sky is a dark blue now, and it paints JJ’s face, his sculpted sharp features. The edge of his nose and the cut of his jawline and the way he looks like he’s about to cry.

So you can’t help it when you place your hands on his again, and you lean down, and he leans up, and you smile, before you kiss him for the first time.

He slides his hands out from under yours, and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

When he pulls away, he places his forehead on your chest, his head moving with your breathing.

“I wanna be like that too,” you murmur into his hair. He holds you tighter for a second, and you rub his back.

He jerks back when he gets bit by a mosquito, pulling his arms away from you to slap his forearm.

“We’re gonna get eaten alive,” he says, and you back up.

“You ready to go home?” You ask, and he extends his hand for you to take. You pull him out of the swing, and the two of you walk back to your house, hands intertwined underneath a twilight sky. You don’t let go until you reach the front door.

In his seat, JJ’s foot brushed yours, and you smiled at him. He was scoffing down pasta like nobody’s business, your mom gleaming at how he loved her cooking, your dad’s concentration on his own food, almost as vivacious as JJ.

You rub your foot back over JJ’s. He knows what it means, because he stops eating to smile at you, for a brief, almost imperceptible second.

For now, you could be his family.

thanks for writing the john b fic i requested it had such good vibes, especially at the end! i loved it!!💜💜

THANK YOU SO MUCH. I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU! keep the requests coming in!

pls yell at me about having unprotected sex pls i’ve been slacking sm and it doesn’t feel important to me anymore oops

LET ME FUCKING TELL YALL. ABOUT SAFE SEX.

- IF YOU HAVE UNPROTECTED SEX WITH ONE PERSON YOU’RE HAVING SEX WITH ALL THEIR PARTNERS. which doesn’t sound bad bc you know they have good taste (obviously if they’re sleeping with you duh) but if you’re the upgrade what the FUCK were they coming from yk??? “If you play with trash, you’re gonna get dirty.” - Kie’s dad.

- STDs AND STIs ARE FUCKING UNCOMFY. LIKE, ITCHY EVERYWHERE. BURNING CROTCH. IT BURNS TO PEE. PUS. FROM YOUR COCK OR VAGINA. DISGUSTING. SWELLING UGH EW. YOU MIGHT NOT KNOW YOU HAVE STDs FOR UP TO TWO WEEKS. and it’d be kinda mean if you gave someone an STD so please don’t

- LITERALLY IT’S SO EASY TO GET FREE CONDOMS GUYS. TYPE YOUR ZIPCODE INTO THIS WEBSITE AND IT’LL SHOW YOU THE CLOSEST PLACE TO GET FREE CONDOMS NEAR YOU. for guys and gals and nonbinary pals who have vaginas and like others with vaginas, dental dams are also a thing.

- P R E G N A N C Y. THE BIGGEST FUCKING BIRTH CONTROL EVER. CHILDREN ARE LOUD. AND MESSY. AND SO EXPENSIVE. THEY NEED CONSTANT ATTENTION. THEY WONT EAT WHEN YOU WANT THEM TO. YOU’LL CHANGE THOUSANDS OF DIAPERS. YOU’LL HAVE TO GET UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT TO BRING THEM TO THE HOSPITAL WHEN THEY HAVE A FEVER OF 103 AND THEN PAY FOR THE HOSPITAL BILLS. PREGNANCY IS PAINFUL. CHILDREN ARE ALSO ASSHOLES.

- PULLING OUT DOESNT WORK. PRECUM CAN CONTAINS TRACES OF SEMEN WHICH CAN MAKE ITS WAY INTO THE EGGS.

- PLEASE DONT LISTEN TO ANYONE WITH A PENIS WHO COMPLAINS ABOUT BEING TOO BIG FOR A CONDOM. THEY ARE LIARS. OR HAVE DANGEROUSLY HUMONGOUS DICKS THAT SHOULD REALLY GET IT CHECKED OUT BECAUSE AT THAT RATE IT SHOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE TO WALK. IT’LL BE LIKE  A THIRD FUCKING LEG DUDE HONESTLY.

- FOR YALL ON BIRTH CONTROL, MISSING A PILL CAN SET YOU BACK THREE DAYS

- GUYS. PORN IS FREE. PORNHUB IS FREE. XHAMSTER IS FREE. SMUT IS FREE. EVEN YOUTUBE HAS SOME SUGGESTIVE AUDIOS THAT MIGHT RUFFLE YOUR FEATHERS. i mean during quarantine you shouldn’t be fuckin anyway. why not get to know yourself a little better. you’re home all day with nothing to do. why not have some fun.

so, in short... be safe. have fun. do the do. but don’t do it at the cost of your health or the next eighteen years of your life. children never go away. like, ever. just jack off. mutual masturbation. phone sex. zoom sex. skype sex. anyway, big love, guys. 

pitaparka, out.