Chase Stokes - Tumblr Posts

☀️💭 — I could take them (not in a fight)

madelyn cline icons.

please, like and reblog if you save.

madelyn cline icons.

please, like and reblog if you save.

madelyn cline icons.

please, like and reblog if you save.

madelyn cline icons.

please, like and reblog or give me credits on my twt @isabelsafe if you save. some of the icon photos are from @madelynsclines on ig.

who do you see more as harry osborn : rudy pankow or drew starkey?

best player, best bet.

pairings. hockey!jj maybank x fem!reader, hockey!rafe x fem!reader

part two of four.

about. jj makes a proposition and reader is unsure

part one, part two, part three

warnings. not my gif, swearing, short chap

ricky rocks. yuh, school sucks ass

“i want to make another bet with you.”

“maybank, you have to be about the dumbest person i know if you think-”

“hold on, hear me out.”

jj had driven you all the way out to north carolina’s end and virginia’s state beginning. the two of you were shoved into a booth across from one another that looked out over the splitting concrete of the parking lot jj had his truck parked in. snow begun to slowly fall and you felt chills crawl up your spine as you thought of the small, but cold snowflakes piling up for winter’s beginning.

jj slid his hot plate of fries toward you. you glanced down at the before looking back up to up to him. he had his forearms pressed against the table, slightly rubbing his finger tips against the sticky green surface, silver ring gleaming in the snowy late afternoon light. his face was slowly clearing from his summer tan despite obx always being sunny and the hair peaking out from beneath his snapback hat was turning darker from its usual sunny blonde.

he always looked good and it made you nervous.

“i know you want the best player award,” he mumbled, “and i know you won’t win it unless i step down.”

you raised your brows, waiting for him to emphasize.

“i’m already set, i know i’ll get a scholarship even without a piece of paper—or trophy that says i’m good,” your lip twitched at the sound of his slight bragging while he now clasped his hands on the sticky table. “you’re good at the game, like really good, but half the scouts are too misogynistic to allow themselves to notice it, y/n.”

your lips were pressed into a thin line, slightly caught off guard by his words despite you already knowing all of this. it was just strange hearing it from his mouth.

“what do you want in return?”

he smiled slightly, glancing down at his hands like he was embarrassed for even asking, “i need a date.”

you inhaled sharply, “to what?”

“ward’s hosting a party, or not so much a party but a get together that’s supposed to reel scouts in for a better chance of me and the team getting offers,” you glanced to the side, suddenly remembering when ward had done the same thing with rafe. it was a complete shit-show due to rafe still being knee deep in his coke addiction. “ward wants me to get a date because it puts out a better image and said it doesn’t matter who just as long as they have a pretty smile and can clean up nice.”

“so you want me... to be your date?” you were taken aback, leaning slightly away from him in your seat.

“you have a pretty smile, don’t you?” you inhaled sharply, causing his smile to increase, “relax, puck bunny, i really only chose you because your ass isn’t so bad to look at.”

you rolled your eyes, now shaken from your slight shock, “alright, asshole-”

“we have a deal or not?”

°•

“no, no deal,” rafe shakes his head as he scrapes the last of the pork from yesterday’s dinner onto his plate, “you haven’t even ‘repaid’ the last bet, so why add onto your debt?”

you watched him arranged and work around your kitchen while he spoke. your hands were folded and your posture was straight as you thought hard about this. you had left jj with the answer of ‘i’ll think about it’ just as he had dropped you off at home—and of course, you had to question rafe on the situation even as you already knew what his answer would be, which was—

“it’s stupid,” he shook his head once more, “knowing my father, he probably already has a girl lined up for him.”

“oh c’mon,” you slightly popped your lip out as he turned to face you and set his full plate at the island, “do you think they have as pretty as a smile as i do.”

rafe was silent for a minute, examining your face before scoffing in amusement, shaking his head, “don’t start.”

“what?”

“you know,” he shrugged, “i would’ve thought you were smarter than to fall for a guy who calls you pretty like once.”

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes before leaning forward on one your elbows, while reaching for one of grapes on rafe’s plate, “why’s ward even throwing this party anyways?”

he shrugged, “your new boyfriends really good, better than me, and knowing my father, he’ll take anything that benefits him. and jj seems to have a benefiting future ahead of him.”

°•

y/n: deal

jj maybank: ?

y/n: i’ll take your deal, but if you pull anything, i’ll punch you and the deals off

jj maybank: anything for you hockey puck

navigation | taglist

@rrosecar @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @greengarsstuff @thedeadlythoughts @i-love-scott-mccall @pradastardust @little-miss-naill @pogueslandia @rudypankowisdaddy @sunsetcurving @rottenstyx @ravi0liii @black-rose-29 @ishwiya @uselesssapphickitten @rejectedfan @barzysandmarnersbitch @cc13723things

country club killer.

pairings. rafe cameron x fem!reader

about. rafe is leaving, and he feels he owes it to you to let you know

warnings. swearing and angst

ricky rocks. fat crush on rafe cameron 😻

“hey, sweetheart,” a hand lightly clamped down on your shoulder, taking you by surprised as you turned, seeing rafe and relaxing with a soft smile that he always loved so much.

“country club,” you smirked, “it’s been awhile.”

“miss me?”

you rolled you’re eyes. of course you did, but you couldn’t say it. it wasn’t apart of the game, the taunting and teasing. admitting you missed his company and pretty face would be a humiliation of losing.. and you didn’t like losing.

“never.”

he scoffed lightly, shaking his head as he slowly eased into the seat next to you at your place at the bar. you were holding a glass of water that could be easily mistaken for straight vodka.. which is said because rafe did mistake it for the toxic drink when clasping the glass from your grip and sipping it lightly. he narrowed his brows in surprisal, questioning you as you watched him with a twinge of amusement.

“i’m cutting back.”

“oh really?”

“yeah.”

“didn’t know you were a quitter all of a sudden.”

“shut up,” you shook your head, turning your head back to the tv hinged high on the wall playing a tennis match.

he smiled, squeezing your shoulder before rubbing your back. he was hesitant about touching you when arriving and almost wanting to refrain from it, but he couldn’t help himself; grazing his fingers over the skin that was slightly exposed from your lower back underneath your tight green tank top.

you eased in it, almost leaning into his warm touch of grazing his knuckles against your already hot skin, but also sending chills up your spine from the metal ring he always wore.

“you play today?”

“mhm.”

“did you win?”

“mhm.”

“why’re you cutting back?”

your eyes diverted from the television, gazing over to the glass cup that sat between you and rafe, almost empty, “i kind of blacked out and ended up somewhere i had never been to.. before.”

he shook his head, continuing to rub your back, “you didn’t call me?”

“i don’t have your number, country club.”

“yes, you do.”

you shook your head, eyebrows slightly quirked.

“why wouldn’t you have my number?”

“you never gave it to me.”

rafe knew he didn’t. there was a reason why.

“how’d you get home?”

“topper.”

he hummed in reply, of course, “you shouldn’t be stupid.”

“and what, be more like you?” you arched your brow and he paused with caressing your skin, “the last time i checked, you were spending all of daddy’s money on coke.”

“don’t.”

“don’t what?”

“don’t be a brat.”

you smirked.

it was silent again and your eyes were back on the tv while his analyzed the side of your face intently, memorizing it.

“you’re being creepy, country club.”

he hummed.

“why’re you being weird.”

“what do you mean?”

“usually.. we’re fucking or at your house, but right now you’re doing a terrible job at attempting to make small talk.”

there’s a long silence and you almost swear you made him mad by the way he looks away from you and at the ground. but he isn’t, he doesn’t growl nor whisper a pointless insult or threat in your ear, he doesn’t do anything but stay silent.

and it worries you.

“y/n,” he presses his lips into a thin line, “i cant see you anymore.”

“what?”

“i cant see you anymore. i’m going away and i don’t know when i’ll be back,” he avoids your stare, “i don’t think i am coming back.”

“what, rafe, why?” your chest tightens and you feel as if you’re going to have a melt down, you didn’t know why. “what do you mean you’re leaving?”

he looks up for a split second, enough time to recognize the hurt beginning to swarm your eyes, “something.. something bad happened or not really bad but- somethings come up and i have to leave.. with wheezie and rose.”

your body was now fully averted to face rafe as you were stunned and taken aback, not knowing how to consume this information.

you weren’t sure why you felt this way. why you felt as if someone had dropped a million pounds on your stomach and it was getting hard to breathe from the lump forming in your throat. you knew you had some feelings for rafe, just not so much to the point someone could mistake you as love sick at this point.

“why?”

“hm?”

“rafe,” you paused, thinking of what you could say and you truly didn’t know, but you stopped yourself from saying anything stupid or anything that would clue that you cared a lot more than you should. you slowly stood, clasping his bicep lightly, “good luck, country club.”

you pressed a kiss on the side of his cheek before walking away, holding your breath from any noises that would indicated the pain you felt in your chest from it shattering.

navigation | taglist

@rejectedfan @barzysandmarnersbitch @cc13723things @smartgirlhuh

okay but

jd's dog being jj's dog in season two

that's it

everyone say thank u brooke starkey🥺🥰

two of my favorite boys🥰🥺

so incredibly proud of this cast :) they deserve this so much. this time last year they were just a couple kids with some dreams🥺

LOOK AT DREW

BROOKE KNOWS WHAT WE ALL WANT

they’re so precious🥺

he’s the cutest babieeeee🥺🥺🥺😭😭🥰

THE POWER THIS MAN HAS OVER ME-

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.”

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.

don’t you wish

request: ur writing is so good i love ur fics :’) can u do a confessing feelings kiss with jj summary: jj is really upset you’re going to college. you hold him before you go. pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 1.4k warnings: sadness, fluff, reader getting ready for college a/n: this was really sweet to write. thank you for the request! keep em coming yall! Slowly but surely i will get to them all :) big love.

You didn’t want to chase him. He was being dramatic.

It would have been so much easier to let him go. To let him storm off.

But having that be the last time you see him before going off to college for the rest of the year? Not happening.

“Jay,” you call out, chasing him out the back door to John B.’s place. He wouldn’t care if you two were there when he was at work.

“Just fuck off. Go get ready.”

“I don’t want to leave you like this,” you say, and he stops.

“If you didn’t want to leave, you wouldn’t. You obviously want to go.”

“I have to go to college. What am I gonna do if I stay here? Mow lawns for kooks for the rest of my life, JJ—”

“The fuck is wrong with that? That’s probably what’s gonna happen to me! So what’s so bad about that—”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”

“What’s so bad about staying together, huh? What’s so bad about being with your friends?”

“We’re teenagers, JJ! Do you really think…” You shouldn’t say what you’re thinking, not out loud.

“Think what?

You avoid his gaze. He’s fuming, hard lips and flared nostrils and really, really red ears.

“You think we’re gonna stay together for the rest of our lives, JJ?” You whisper.

You look up at him with sad eyes.

He shakes his head, a sad grin on his face.

“Wow. Alright. Tell me how you really feel—”

“No, you know what I’m saying,” you say, stepping closer to him.

“If you’re saying that you don’t think we could make it, you don’t think we could be friends for the rest of our lives just because you’re moving away to your fancy college, yeah. I do know what you’re saying. And I—I don’t fucking agree.”

“Don’t do this, JJ…”

Your shoulders feel heavy. There’s a knot in your stomach.

“Fuck, don’t you get it?”

“Obviously not, JJ! So why don’t you just tell me about it, instead of—”

“—You’re all I fucking have! I love you! Okay?” He turns from you with fervor and runs his hands through his hair before bringing them to rest on his hips, letting out a sigh and bringing eyes to the sky like he was asking for a reason this all was happening.

“JJ,” you say softly, “you know I love you too.”

He lets out a humorless laugh.

“And you know we can’t, because of—”

“—No pogue on pogue, right, and I don’t want to be the one who messes this up, because I fuckin’ mess everything up! God, dammit!”

You don’t know what to say. He’s so frustrated he collides his foot with a tree, bark flaking off the old oak, with it’s long curly limbs, having been around since you became friends. You used to climb that tree all the time, sit under that tree, sheltering yourselves from the hundred degree weather, talking about how you would build a tree-house with your own bare hands, just the five of you—The Pogues.

How your heart aches for a simpler time, where summer meant tubes of flavored ice and endless cartoons and learning to swim under the hot North Carolinian sun. Where summer didn’t mean you packing up your things and applying to colleges and trying to spend time with your friends who were always busy with jobs or scholarships, supporting themselves full time at sixteen years old. It hurt. Your face stings with unshed tears and you don’t want this to be the last time you see JJ. The last memory you make with him before you go off to some fancy college up North and never come back to the Outer Banks.

You come up from behind him and wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his back. He doesn’t know whether to pull away or lean into it, so he tenses up under your touch.

“You’re the one I go to, man…” he whimpers.

You hold him a little bit tighter.

“You… you help me out. You’re the one who… what am I gonna do without you?”

You two listen to the birds in the trees and feel the warmth of each other.

You pull away after a minute, and your eyes dart around the place before you meet him. His eyes are glossy and dangerously full.

“I don’t want you to leave us,” he mumbles, and his face scrunches up like he’s trying not to cry, but a single perfect tear runs down his cheek. He goes to wipe it away with the back of his hand, but you beat him to it.

He sniffs loudly, hands by his side as you caress his cheeks with your thumbs, wiping away tears and as soon as his eyes become too intense, the sadness there palpable in the atmosphere, you rest your forehead on his cheek, and he cries.

You can’t help but plant soft, inaudible kisses to his face, where the tears are. You bury your nose into his neck and feel your own tears, hot on your cheeks, soak into his shirt.

You pull back to rest your forehead against his, and he leans into you, making it easier.

But he keeps leaning in. And keeps leaning in. Until there’s nowhere else to go, but you don’t really want to be anywhere else and his lips are so close and he smells like honey and boy cologne and mint so you close your eyes and kiss him.

His lips are salty from the tears, but there are nerves in your lips you’ve never felt before. JJ cups your face and you cup his and he’s crying and you’re crying and you never want the kiss to end.

There’s pressure and warmth and butterflies that are landing and taking off in your stomach because this is JJ, your JJ, the same JJ you grew up with and teased and cried to and laughed with. The boy you love more than anything. The boy you would do anything for.

You wish you could preserve the memory of kissing JJ, his skin wet and lips raw from all the biting he does to them.

It’s hard to pull away from him, knowing it would be the last time. You rest your head on his shoulder and he holds you tighter than he’s ever held you before in his life. Harder than the time you broke your arm riding his bike. Harder than the first time his dad hit him. Harder than when you came back from your first vacation away from him. Harder than the time you had your first breakup. Harder than the time you found out you had gotten into the college of your dreams.

You count down from 10 in your head, and when you reach zero, it’s over. He lets out a shaky breath and wipes the remaining tears from his face before he shoves his hands into his pockets.

You both smile sadly, you down at his shoes, but he’s smiling at you, his eyes glossy. He wants to never forget this moment between you two. He can only hope you’ll come back for him, come back for your childhood friends. Your home. Your boys (and girl).

“I guess this is it,” he says, finally.

You try to look him in the eye, but you notice something.

There’s a single eyelash on his cheek.

“Wait,” you say, and pick it up for him.

“Make a wish,” you encourage, holding it in front of his face.

He looks between you and the eyelash.

Usually he doesn’t believe in that type of thing.

Though instead of his usual protest, he surprises you.

He closes his eyes, and makes his wish, blowing the eyelash off your thumb.

He opens his eyes, smiling.

“D’you know... do you want to know what I wished for?” He asks. He pulls you into his chest and tears start to well up in your eyes again.

“No,” you laugh, sniffling, “Then it won’t come true, dummy.”

“I don’t care if it comes true or not… I know it’s going to come true.”

“I don’t want to know your wish!” You cry into his shoulder. You feel him shudder with laughter.

He traces patterns on your back, his head resting on your shoulder, his ear pressed up against yours, his clean shaven face pressing into your jaw.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, JJ.”