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yornayyy · 8 days ago

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What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader -> reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

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yornayyy · 12 days ago

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Girl, I'm into it, I'm into it, I'm into it. RYOMEN SUKUNA

SUMMARY ୨˚̣̣̣୧ periods are shitty, annoying punishments for not getting pregnant. luckily, sukuna is sweet enough to help the pain.

NOTE ୨˚̣̣̣୧ i’m currently on my period & i also find period sex hot asf so there you go. i know a few people don’t like it, so if you are one of them— turn away! this was originally gonna be either noritoshi or choso (blood techniques) but i decided on sukuna 🫶🏾 please excuse typos & grammar mistakes i posted this late!

“Damnit woman, which one is it?”

“Sukuna, I sent a fucking picture for a reason!” You yelled down the phone, eyebrows pinched close as annoyance flooded through your body. Between your lover’s idiotic tendencies and the fact it felt like a hundred soldiers were tap dancing on your uterus— you had little care if your words were rude.

Still, the man gave a sharp watch your tone; before turning the phone to allow you to see the display case of pads.

“Just tell me which one, so I can leave already.”

You sucked your teeth, bringing the phone closer and squinting at the screen. You couldn’t be entirely mad at the man, given he went to the store for you graciously with only a single eye roll. A few of your female friends don’t have the same luck with their partners. But still, what was so hard about looking at the picture you sent— and then grabbing that pack?

A soft huff escaped, “That one.. it’s uh— the purple one. Long with wings.”

You watched as his tatted hand reached for the correct pack, even pushing it into the camera for further confirmation.

“These are huge..”

You felt warmth flood through your cheeks, giving a sharp just buy the damn pads, before ending the call. You tossed your phone to the side, turning to curl up into a ball whilst your arms hugged your stomach. Soft groans escaped you with each cramp, attempting to find a comfortable position to get into.

You tried a heating pad, a hot shower, and even pills to minimize the pain— and yet, it still remained. At the same exact intensity as it was this morning.

Another groan escaped you, body turning to lay on your stomach and your face into your pillow. The softness of your towel grazed your stomach and bare thighs, the only comforting thing at the moment.

Whilst delving in your own misery, the bedroom door opened, revealing your loving boyfriend and the bag of pads.

Sukuna took one look at your helpless state and laughed to himself, tossing the bag to the edge of the bed. “Cramps kicking your ass, huh?”

You could only groan, rolling onto your back and sinking into the bed. You glanced at the man, spotting his back to you as he snatched the black hoodie off his body; revealing his tattooed back. Your eyes then flicked to the ceiling, lids fluttering shut.

“I tried a shower.. pills, everything Kuna. This sucks..”

“Tried an orgasm?”

You gave a soft sound of disapproval. You were aware of the method, the pleasant feeling sure to rid you of your cramps— but the thought of such a mess wasn’t something you were into. Nor did you think Sukuna was in, either.

Until.. a tight lock around your ankle caused your thoughts to cease, gasping as you were suddenly dragged towards the edge of the bed. Your eyes flew open, staring up at the man who was currently situating your legs onto his hips.

“Sukuna, what..”

“You’re gonna keep complaining about the cramps, might as well get rid of them.” Sukuna claimed, acting as if it was the most obvious thing ever. He leaned down, lips finding yours in an instant, a heated kiss being shared between the two of you.

Your hands found his shoulders, sliding across his bare hot skin— groaning the moment his thick, wet muscle intruded your mouth. Naturally your hands were sliding up, fingers curling into his pink tresses for leverage. Despite how good the kiss was, your mind couldn’t shake the nervousness that surrounded you. Having sex on your period just seemed like a mess waiting to happen.

Surely Sukuna would get grossed out, right? But.. he did offer. You were going through the motions, weighing the options, and absentmindly pulling away from the kiss. You hadn’t realized until a sharp voice interrupted your thinking once more.

“Always thinking so damn hard..” Sukuna spoke, pushing his hips forward. The man grinned as your hand fell to his waist, watching you stifle a quiet groan. He began to reach down, gripping your wrist and yanking it up to press against the bed. The glint in his eyes was all too familiar, something that always caused a heat of warmth to spread throughout your body.

Yet, that still wasn’t enough to shake the anxiety.

“Sukuna..” You gasped as the man moved closer, finding your neck to kiss and nip. Your stomach was stirring, arousal pooling between your legs. “— it’s.. a mess, baby. Are you su—?”

“Would I be touching you if I wasn’t sure?” He interrupted, his free hand gliding down the plane of your body. Without hesitation the man was breaching your shorts and panties, spreading your wet folds to rub at your clit. “Keep interrupting me..” Sukuna warned, biting at your throat— causing you to whine.

Your hips rose into the feeling, his two thick digits rubbing tight circles onto your swelling bud. Your arousal was building, surely soiling both his hand and shorts— but neither of you cared in the moment. Instead, Sukuna seemed to chase this; gliding his fingers down to sink into your entrance, easily.

Plunging inside, curling at your spongy walls— your legs were opening wider as the pleasure began to consume your body, dulling your mind. You hadn’t even realized your hand was free until you felt him flip your shirt up and grab your breast. His thumb brushed across your nipple, it hardening under his touch and the cool air.

Sukuna continued to tweak the hardened bud, scissoring his fingers inside of you all while a grin played at his lips. “You were so against it just a second ago, and yet..” His eyes dipped to where his hand currently was, a third finger pushing inside to meet his other two. “— you’re moving your hips so eagerly.”

Your moans were more vocal at this point, pitching into whines each time his fingers curled to press against that special spot. Your stomach clenched with each thrust, feeling a pressure build inside of you. “K—kuna, mm..!” You could barely speak, hand gripping the towel underneath you as you began to fuck your self on his fingers. A difficult task given the position, but one the man definitely encouraged.

“Mm.. that’s it, keep ruining yourself on my fingers, sweetheart.” Sukuna was clearly enjoying this more than you, leaning down to swipe his tongue across your bud just to watch you shiver. You were sensitive, painfully so, that each movement had you trembling as if he had touched you hundred times. His watchful eyes were eating it all, casting an image to save for a later date.

Soon enough the pressure was forming, becoming too much like a bubble ready to burst. Your head leaned back into the bed, lips parted as soft whines escaped. “Su—sukuna, fuck, fuck! I’m close—!” Your back arched the moment his thrusts became more intense, a blinding white passing through your eyes before you came— legs shaking around his form.

Sukuna’s fingers slowed but didn’t stop, mixing up your fluids and throughly fucking you through your high. The man ignored your sensitive whines until he was satisfied, pulling his fingers out soon after. Your lover was unfazed by the red mess staining his tattooed appendage, simply wiping it against the towel underneath. “Made such a mess..”

“Don’t make make fun of me, Sukuna. That was embarrassing enough.”

Your boyfriend grinned, fingers hooking onto your shorts and panties to slowly tug down. “Embarrassing? I wouldn’t know, given how much you were moaning just a minute ago.” The cackle he released was downright maniacal, tossing your clothes to the side whilst going for his own.

Your body was hot, cheeks puffed as you attempted to glare at him. “Whateve—er..” Your words dragged the moment his cock began to tap against your clit, the man gliding it along your slit carefully.

“You say something?” Sukuna mocked, a hand reaching to your thigh and pushing you up farther onto the bed. He continued to glide himself between your folds, watching your stomach tense each time his tip made contact with your sensitive bud.

The anticipation was welling inside your stomach, fingers gripping the towel as you rose to grind against him— gasping the moment he began to enter you. Sukuna fed you inch by inch slowly, pushing deep into you whilst the reddened arousal was tainted his cock. The thought of doing this.. was gross, weird, and something you definitely wouldn’t do.

But now? While in the act. The only thing you could think about was how good he was stretching you; filling you up so easily and then some. Your legs were shaking around him, his name falling for your lips in a honeyed gasp as you slowly became adjusted.

Sukuna leaned over your body, a hand falling to your throat to direct you; forcing eye contact. “Don’t go dumb yet, I just started.” He grinned, rising you up a bit to snatch your lips in a deep kiss— while pulling his hips back at the same time.

The first thrust was always so deep and harsh, making your legs bounce and your thoughts go slack. Within a minute, Sukuna started a bruising pace inside; fucking you deep into the mattress all while kissing you so sweetly. The differences were making your head spin, unable to focus on a complete feeling before the other fought to take over.

You breathed heavily into his mouth, struggling to keep up with his tongue all while his length fucked into you. His hand suddenly fell from your neck down to your thigh, gripping it tightly and pushing it up.

The raise position caused your head to fall back into the bed, moans escaping you freely as your trembling hand suddenly fell to his waist. “Sh—shit.. Kuna, hah..! Feels so good, fuck—!”

Your cries were music to his ears, even enjoying the way your pretty manicured fingers dragged across his lower stomach with each thrust.

Sukuna leaned even closer, using his body weight to fold you like some damn chair. The stretch in your muscles washed away with each slam into your messy cunt, your walls clinging to him as a desperate pressure formed in your stomach. Your words were jumbling together, moans broken as tears welled in your eyes.

The man grinned at the display, cock twitching in your wet sex with each thrust. “Can’t even fucking think, can you? Should have fucked you dumb like this earlier..” Sukuna claimed, a hand falling between the two of you to press against your stomach. He felt himself inside you, his ego swelling more and more.

You were so close now, back arching up off the bed as your legs trembled. The band inside you was growing thinner and thinner, desperate moans escaping your lips.

And yet, Sukuna stopped suddenly— right when you were about to hit your peak. You felt the disappointment crash down on you in an instant, glaring up at the man with glossy eyes.

“Su—sukuna, why would you do that?!” You whined, feeling your irritation grow when you noticed the grin on his face.

Instead of replying, however, Sukuna leaned up from his previous position; your legs falling to his hips. In one swift movement he was switching you onto your stomach, hooking his arms under your legs to bring you to your knees.

Before you could think he was sinking back inside of you, hand sliding to your back to arch you even further. This position left you far too vulnerable, the man fucking you into the mattress with no way to move away or escape.

Your face was mushed against the wet towel and sheets, crumbling them within your hands as desperate, pleasurable cries escaped you. He was stirring with up inside, hips slamming against your ass and causing your body to shake.

Sukuna’s hands laid a bruising grip on your hips, eyes focused on your body. He was entranced by it; the recoil of your ass, the way a creamy ring was forming around the base of his dick, and the way you not so subtly tried to move away from the thrusts.

“Oh, is it too much, brat? You want me to slow down don’t you?..” Like he would. You and him both knew that wasn’t going to happen. The knowledge solidifying the moment his hand rose to grab a nice handful of your braids, gently tugging to get you onto your hands.

“..Messy fucking pussy— don’t try to run, take this dick.”

You cried out as his free hand suddenly slammed against your cheek, the stinging pain shooting right between your legs; increasing your arousal. Your walls were clinging to him, clenching each time his tip brushed against that perfect spot inside you.

The man suddenly released your hand, your body falling to the bed as he continued to fuck into you. Sukuna’s large hands fell to your cheeks, separating them for the perfect look. “Mm.. shouldn’t neglect this hole either.” Your lover suddenly dragged in a soft tone, one you nearly didn’t catch. Until his thumb was suddenly sliding against your puckered hole, pushing in carefully.

The sudden intrusion caused your body to lunge, shaking as whines escaped you. His free hand massaged your ass as if to soothe you, continuing to push it in until he reach the knuckle.

The foreign sensation took a moment, tight entrance clenching around the digit. But the moment you relaxed, a new found pleasure washing over you; your arousal increasing, and dripping all down his cock.

“Sukuna.. fuck! Please, please, please—!” You were pleading so loudly now, tears trickling down your cheeks, as you rutted back against him; pushing your ass into his lower stomach.

Sukuna grinned at this, leaning over your body; hitting your deep all while mocking your moans right in your ear. “Clenchin’ me so damn much, fucking close aren’t you? Bet you wanted this even more then I did, such a damn freak..” His words came out in a soft hiss, slamming himself deep as his cock twitched, his own climax quickly approaching.

You gripped the sheets, back arched into his hot body as broken babbles of his name escaped. Within minutes you were cumming, making a complete mess on both him and underneath you.

Yet his hips never stopped, the intensity never dulling despite your body going slack against the bed. You whined as the sensitivity began to grow, fisting the blankets for leverage.

“Fu—fuck, Sukuna— I can’t..”

“You can.. was being so fucking good for me, don’t stop now.” Sukuna groaned, fingers digging into you as his thrusts became desperate. “Milkin my dick, shit— want me to fill you up, don’t you? Maybe even put a baby in this pretty fucking stomach, so you won’t have to worry about cramps.”

The thought caused your head to spin, unable to say a word and instead nodding repeatedly. Sukuna chuckled at this for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed, pushing himself deep before releasing inside.

Heavy pants covered the room as you came down from your highs, a sharp groan escaping you as he removed both his thumb and length from within you. Your hips lowered to the bed, cheek brushing against the blankets.

As your legs moved, the sticky feeling between them caused you to cringe— tilting to glance at the man.

“Sukuna..”

He grinned a little at you, hand smoothing across your back. “Yeah, yeah.. I’ll help you clean up.”

comments & reblogs are appreciated

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yornayyy · 16 days ago

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i think i’m addicted to wanting a relationship but once i’m in it i don’t want one

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yornayyy · 21 days ago

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Two is better than one | an onynnie love story!

౨ৎ˚₊ tags : black chubby reader. ( bimbo themes ). two boys, one girl. bi!onynnie. plug!onynnie? threesomes, cream pies, oral, vagina sex, bxb, anal play. degradation, teasing, lots of pet names! lots of cum! ony and connie ARE GAYYYY!!!

- one ! | hot.

- two ! | two men who just wanted to please you, (and each other).

- three ! | “y-yall gone play like this?”

- four ! | onyankopon was a watcher

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yornayyy · 3 months ago

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𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑤.

PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: suggestive, no use of y/n GENRE: best friends to lovers SONG INSPIRATION: DIE FOR ME by chase atlantic WORD COUNT: 1.4k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: got a little carried away . . .

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

the cabin was quiet. the flickering flames in the fireplace cast small shadows across the room as the last embers of the night begin to fade into darkness. you were stretched out on your bed, the warmth of the fire still lingering in the air, even as the chill from the mountain outside crept through the windows.

everyone else had long gone to their rooms. the day had been packed with hiking, teasing jokes, and way too much food, now the others were all passed out, getting some much needed rest for whatever was going to come tomorrow. you should have been tired too, but here you were laid in your bed wide awake, staring at the wall beside you.

the soft creak of your door opening broke the stillness. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“hey,” josh’s familiar voice whispered from behind you. he was always the last one up too, unable to sleep when it got too quiet.

“hey,” you answered, glancing over your shoulder to see him standing in the doorway, his hair disheveled, looking sleepy and tousled. he had that half grin on his face that made you feel warm inside.

“can’t sleep again?” you teased, already knowing the answer.

josh shrugged, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor, making his way to you. “nah, i tried. it’s freezing in my room, and, y’know, it’s weird without you there.”

this had been a thing between the two of you for as long as you could remember. whenever you were on trips with the group, josh would find his way to your room after everyone else had gone to bed.

it started as something simple as after late night movie marathons or study sessions that turned into sleepovers, but over the years. it just became your thing. sleeping alone felt strange now, especially for josh. he always needed you close.

“come on then,” you mumbled, lifting the corner of the blanket without a second thought. there was no need for words. he was already climbing under the covers with you, fitting his body against yours.

he slipped his arms around you, pulling you back against his chest, the warmth of his body immediately chasing away the chill from the mountain air. his breath was soft against your neck, and you felt him relax instantly, his head resting on the pillow just behind yours.

this was normal. it had always been normal. the two of you had shared beds, couches, even floors when crashing at friends’ places after parties. josh had always been touchy, needing to feel you, as if that contact helped him settle. you never questioned it. after all, you felt the same.

his presence was grounding, the one constant you needed in your life.

his hand found its way to your waist, his fingers casually slipping under the hem of your shirt, resting against your bare skin like it was the most natural thing. it sent a shiver up your spine, but not because you were cold.

you were used to this, he always did it. he always wanted that skin to skin contact, as if the barrier of clothing was too much separation between you. and you let him, because it didn’t feel strange. it just felt like josh.

“you’re warm,” he murmured sleepily, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your lower back. he said it every time, but the way his voice softened whenever he said it always made your heart flutter.

you hummed in response, pressing back into him just slightly, the lines of your bodies fitting perfectly together under the thick blanket. his fingers continued their slow, lazy path across your skin, drawing shapes you couldn’t quite decipher but made you relax into him even more.

the room was quiet except for the faint crackle of the dying fire and the soft sounds of josh’s breathing behind you. this was your rhythm. an intimacy that had never been questioned.

josh had always been more than just your best friend, but you’d never dared to label it as anything else. the touches, the closeness, it was just how the two of you operated. you were comfortable, safe with each other.

but tonight, something felt… different.

maybe it was the calm of the cabin, or the way the mountain’s isolation made everything feel sharper, more intense. or maybe it was just the fact that your heartbeat picked up whenever his fingers slipped a little higher, his hand resting now against your ribs, dangerously close to the swell of your chest.

you wondered if he noticed the way your breathing hitched when he moved, the way your body tensed ever so slightly.

“josh…” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet of the room.

“hmm?” his response was a soft hum, his lips brushing the back of your neck now, almost absentmindedly.

for a second, you considered pulling away, setting up those boundaries that were supposed to exist between best friends. but the truth was, you didn’t want to. you never had.

the truth of it settled deep in your chest, an acknowledgment of something you’d both danced around for years.

instead, you turned your head just enough to see him from the corner of your eye. his face was so close, eyes half lidded in the dim light, his lips parted slightly in that relaxed way that made him look vulnerable.

your heart did that little stutter it always did when he was this close, and suddenly, the unspoken feelings that had always been lurking just beneath the surface felt impossible to ignore.

“josh,” you said again, this time turning fully in his arms to face him.

he blinked, eyes clearer now as he studied your face. his hand didn’t move from where it was resting on your skin, but his expression shifted, like he could feel the shift in the air too. “yeah?”

the weight of the moment hung between you, the closeness suddenly more intense than it had ever been. you opened your mouth to say something. anything, but the words died on your lips as josh’s gaze flickered down to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

you weren’t imagining it. the way his hand moved a little more deliberately now, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, skimming just beneath your shirt. the way his body pressed a little closer to yours, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with your own.

this was no longer just about comfort. something had changed.

“i–” you started to speak, but before you could say anything more, josh’s hand slid a little higher, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast so lightly you almost thought you imagined it. but you didn’t. the look in his eyes, now more awake and intense, confirmed that.

his breath hitched, the same way yours had, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the shared rhythm of your breathing, matching and uneven at the same time.

“we… we’ve always been like this,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, as if he was trying to remind himself of what this had always been. “right?”

you nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady. “yeah. always.”

but it wasn’t always like this. not with the way his lips hovered just inches from yours now, the way his hand slipped further under your shirt like he was testing a boundary you weren’t sure existed anymore.

“maybe…” he whispered, his forehead now resting against yours, his voice so soft it was barely more than a breath, “maybe we’ve been fooling ourselves.”

his words hung between you, heavy and raw. and just like that, the unspoken tension between you, years of shared beds, lingering touches, and blurred boundaries, came crashing to the surface.

you didn’t pull away. you couldn’t. because deep down, you’d known it too. this was never just about needing to be close. it had always been more. you just hadn’t wanted to admit it.

“josh,” you breathed, your heart pounding in your chest as his hand slid up to your shoulder, his fingers gently tilting your chin so you were looking directly at him.

and then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, his lips brushed against yours. soft, tentative at first, a question hanging in the space between. when you didn’t pull away, he kissed you again, deeper this time, the heat between you building until the air felt thick with everything you’d kept hidden for so long.

you didn’t know where this was going to lead, but in that moment, with josh’s hands on your skin and his lips on yours, you knew one thing for sure.

there was no going back to the way things were.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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yornayyy · 3 months ago

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I'm trying to see something

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yornayyy · 4 months ago

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eren jaeger is that one character I’ll always run back to because he’s just that fine

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yornayyy · 4 months ago

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love island — aot edition !

✎ᝰ — aot boys on love island

★ — eren, connie, reiner, jean x reader

★ — genre + warnings: fluff + boys being boys, casa amor, connie and reiner are the REAL lover boys and no one can change my mind !!!

★ — a/n: i have a bat boys version on my other blog :)

꒰ EREN JAEGER ꒱

ꔛ everyone’s favorite pretty boy or highkey most hated in america, no in between. I feel like he’ll be either very miguel codex or slightly rob coded, aka either open asf or an “onion”

ꔛ he was quite friendly and engaged himself with everyone, platonically or romantically. he gave like a brotherly vibe or “best friend’s brother” vibe

ꔛ butttt I will say that eren was a bombshell that EVERY girl was swooning for and loved all the attention that he got. he was being indecisive on which girl he’d couple with cause he really wanted to get to know everyone

ꔛ a lot of people in america either disliked the way eren moved in the villa or understood where he was coming from. he honestly has tried multiple connections but it seems like none can click in a way that he wanted, no matter how much he tried :/

ꔛ as days and couplings pass, eren decides on the person that was for him, another new bombshell that everyone loved as well. your aura was radiating soft colors, friendly, kind, and a safe space for eren. ever since then, eren has been nothing but smiles, laughs, and always exuding soft love towards his couple

ꔛ with you, he felt like he could see himself in the end, make your relationship official, and show you off. he’s always smiling after you guy’s chats, talking about the outside world and expressing how much he adores you, slight flirting here and there but that’s typical eren

ꔛ every time you guys recoupled, eren’s speeches were short and sweet. some of them weren’t his best but it was still cute how he tries to express himself for you

ꔛ neowwww casa amor, I fear all his respect flew out the window and he just did his own thing. did he think about his couple from time to time? sort of….but he did excuse himself by saying he was testing yall connection (typical male behavior). though, during the casa recoupling he felt his heart drop when he came back with another girl and saw you standing all by themselves, dolled up and waiting with open arms. just to be embarrassed by this man and the girl who stole all his attention

ꔛ for days, he would try to win you back but he started feeling like there was no going back after casa. he made breakfast, wrote cute notes, talk to your friends, any and everything he tried all he can to win them back. in the end, he accepted his actions, the feelings he hurt, and broke it off with the girl he brought back. even after that, he kept up with the little actions to show how sorry he is and slowly won his way into america’s heart :)

ꔛ in the end, eren got eliminated before the final 4. he wasn’t mad at it, sulked a bit cause he’ll miss his friends and all the amazing people he met but he does understand why he didn’t make it to the end. also gave himself time to enjoy you in the real world and potentially become a real couple

꒰ CONNIE SPRINGER ꒱

ꔛ oh connie, the lover everyone wants in their lives. he’s so kordell coded, it’s actually sick just thinking about it; he’s charming, sweet, patient, and funny asf. he was america’s favorite boy and you can tell he definitely didn’t mind the attention

ꔛ I would say he’s an og and got along well with everyone, however didn’t really have a connection. he was in a couple but that didn’t necessarily work out and it kinda broke him, he thought he was gonna be eliminated and don’t experience the love he deserves :/

ꔛ but God bless, you came in as a bombshell and stole that boy’s heart quickly. the boys teased him about how they can practically see heart eyes in connie’s eyes as you entered, but can you blame him? you were stunning, your outfit fitted you well, and your beauty made his pound, he thought he could it for a second

ꔛ ever since you entered, he was all over you and pulling you into multiple chats. he really wanted to get to know you and beg that there could be something between the two of you and there was! it wasn’t there initially but as time passed, you felt giddy when you saw him :)

ꔛ throughout your time with him, he would rave on about how much he adores you, compliment your appearance and personality, doing everything in his willpower to show how much he genuinely likes you. he didn’t force himself on you, he gave you enough space and let you figure out where you stand with him

ꔛ the first time, y’all coupled together, oh that boy was grinning ear to earrrrrr. your speech wowed him and made him fall for you even more. as he approached you, and spun you around, he just can’t get over you he can’t help it. it feels like bright colors and giddiness as he was around you

ꔛ oh casa amor was his BIGGEST villain. he contemplated on staying but the boys convinced him that this will be like a mini vacation from the villa, trust them!! oh how he wish he didn’t listen…

ꔛ casa was fun and he did enjoy the girls that he met, he kept his distance as well and tried to respect himself for those three days. however this one girl was just temptation in a bikini; batting her eyes, touching him in all the right places, knowing exactly what to say to win cornelius over and I fear it worked….

ꔛ one kiss outside challenges and connie became allured by this girl. his hands on her body, enjoyed being sweet talk by her, being clouded by everything she says and does. well, ‘til the morning after, he wakes up and realizes how great of a mess he made for himself. he kissed another girl which lead him into a slight panic cause he won’t know how you’ll handle the news; his heart dropped to his ass when he realized how much he disrespected you

ꔛ the recoupling after casa wasn’t the prettiest, even when he didn’t walk in with ole girl. he did enough in casa and bringing that girl back would’ve done more collateral damage. however, when he received news that you knew what happened, he knew he couldn’t recover from it. he became apologetic as you stood there with an emotion that was anything but excited or happy to see him

ꔛ he spent, and I mean DAYSSSSS, winning you back. he would try what eren did and he went above and beyond to win you back. cooking you breakfast, apologizing daily, write notes, pull you for a chat and try to explain himself, tell you how much he missed you during casa, and try to convince you how sorry he was. it hurts him extremely that you’re upset with him instead of joking and smiling with him like you guys used to, and he was even more hurt when he found out how much you cried while casa and after casa

ꔛ america screamed at you to please take him back cause he’s trying to prove himself that he does like you and didn’t wanna hurt you like he did. y/n pleaseeeee take him back, he’s been silently sobbing in his bed for four days cause he missed you :(

ꔛ the recoupling where you did forgive him, oh he almost lost it (in a good way). he almost cried when you chose him cause he misses your presence, your chats, your beauty, everything about you and no one could have replaced that for him. he didn’t want any chance to ruin what y’all built AGAIN, no matter how tempting

ꔛ connie made it to the final four and won WOOOOOO!!! america already loved him but the dedication and his authenticity to win you back made the perfect love story to win america over. I mean who doesn’t love male groveling ;) ?

꒰ REINER BRAUN ꒱

ꔛ THE BIG, SOFT BLONDIE <33333. he’s kind, sweet, a great helper, extremely understanding, and always there for others. he grew such great bonds with everyone and everyone in the villa loved him from day one

ꔛ an og in the villa that seems to be the most favorited but can you blame them? plus, he wears his heart on his sleeve and isn’t afraid to express himself with every person he’s interested in. he enjoyed his chats with everyone but he enjoyed yours the most, you bring this sort of energy that reiner can’t point out but adores it so well

ꔛ he instantly clicked with you from day one and expressed how much he’s interested in getting to know you. ever since then, you guys were joint at the hip and barely leaving each other’s side, and everyone in the villa always comment how much you two complement each other as you’re together

ꔛ he held your hand during your chats, let you lay on him, give you his full attention, giving you everything you need to know how much he’s invested in you. small compliments, breakfast with your fave drink, made you fruit bowls for snacks, given massages here and there, gave you small kisses, the list can go on how much reiner did for you

ꔛ every time the guys joked about how down bad reiner is, he just took it and agreed. he doesn’t mind being mister romantic for his couple, even after bombshells would pull him for dates and/or chats. he always found himself running back to you <3

ꔛ america’s lover boy and they couldn’t hate him one bit and the amount of fangirls he got? oh goodness, now everyone wants a reiner in their life

ꔛ oh reiner hated casa amor, he liked that he let himself experience it but one kiss outside challenges made you realize how much he missed you. he missed being your arms, he missed your smile, he missed your presence that brought him an immense amount of comfort and happiness. he could barely bare being without you

ꔛ thankfully, all the casa girls gave up and stopped trying to go after him from how much he sulked about missing you

ꔛ after casa was a bit….off. reiner was a bit anxious to tell you that he kissed someone and was scared that you were gonna leave him, he couldn’t let that happen! he worked up the courage to tell you and was ready to accept any sort of punishment that could come, including being apologetic until he was back on your good graces

ꔛ you and reiner ended up either being runners up or the winners! america couldn’t get enough of this big softie who had so much admiration and respect for his couple. he didn’t mind the results, he was just ready to get out the villa and make everything official with you <3

꒰ JEAN KIRSTEIN ꒱

ꔛ at first, america wasn’t really a fan of jean, just like with eren. came off a bit conceited but that ddin’t stop anyone to explore jean and they very much didn’t regret it

ꔛ I would say jean is also an og who quickly hit it off with the guys. some of the girls, not as quick or not as close as he wished to be. there was one person whom he wished he hit it off but it just couldn’t click for a period of time (you)

ꔛ it kinda hurt jean a bit that you guys didn’t get along romantically but it didn’t stop him from wanting to explore you with every chance he got. he’d pull you for chats, do small, romantic gestures, anything to get you

ꔛ even as he was coupled up, he made it clear that he was still open until the recoupling where the boys chose. oh jean was elated to be ready to pick you, his speech was so pretty and emphasized his growing crush on you

ꔛ as episodes passed on, they realized how much of a sweetheart jean is. his recoupling speeches were always thought out and held nothing back. he also made it a habit to kiss your cheek every time you guys recoupled

ꔛ there was a time where a bombshell stole jean and he did explore her. however, that was short filled and fizzled into just friends, mans was just too stuck on you

ꔛ mannnn, casa amor, oh casa amor. he didn’t mind going to casa, as he approached it with the mindset that he was just testing yall relationship, right? wrong! those three days lead to jean explore in a way that even he didn’t expect out of him. it’s not that he didn’t care about his couple but he sure tricked himself into that he was testing himself and boy did he fail!!!

ꔛ to make things worse than he already is, he brought a girl back like wtf. as you stood there, looking stunning waiting for jean, he brings in a girl and your heart shattered. you thought he genuinely liked you but now it seems to be a different reality of who jean is

ꔛ jean didn’t explain himself, he tried to but every excuse had himself look lousy. he gave up and couldn’t even look in you the eyes. a tear trickled down on his face as he realized the the damage he has done

ꔛ time after casa, he would give you space but still pull you to tell you how sorry he is. at times, he would ditch his chosen casa girl to apologize and show how sorry he is. additionally, he was quick to cut things off with the girl which didn’t end well…

ꔛ you would question if he was being genuine and did he ever think about you during casa. he said he did and he completely regrets casa for even existing. he spent days upon days to show remorse for what he has done. he didn’t need to and shouldn’t have tested yall connection just to prove something to himself, and he knew that

ꔛ he started to lose faith that he might lose you forever, around the villa sulking and being lowly. even as the boys encouraged him, he couldn’t bear to accept their advice and would instead go to your friends to figure out what to do

ꔛ you did take him back after one night where yall sat in soul ties and he explained how heavy his heart felt from potentially losing you, sighs coming out when he saw that your doesn’t light up when you see him, or how you would dump him and be with another man. it was a hefty speech that that included extreme emotions, ‘I miss you’, ‘please take me back’, lengthy explanations on why you’re the one he wants and not the other girl, how he would change for himself and you. he’s saying anything so you could take him back and thankfully it worked in his favor

ꔛ in the end, jean ended up in third place :). he enjoyed his time in the villa and felt like he came out as better person, to himself and to you. after the villa, you guys continued to grow what you had and became official in the way of a beautiful picnic and a heartfelt love letter

𖥻 I miss writing for aot BADDDDDDD. like yall don’t understand how much I miss writing for my babies 😣

𖥻 here’s how I see it. connie is kordell, reiner is kenny but white, and eren is miguel. change my mind !!

𖥻 I wanted to make connie and reiner’s longer but had to stop myself 🧍🏽‍♀️. blame champagne coast by blood orange

𖥻 bye babes, drink your water and I love you MWAH 💕

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: ephesians 3:20-21. glory to be God, I love Him so much

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yornayyy · 5 months ago

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god's test (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | inspired by this song amongst others

content warning: abusive parents; allusions to s3xual abuse; drug use/misuse; sexual content (female and male receiving; p in v); unhealthy relationships; brief mentions/discussions of fertility | Some heavy themes in this so please feel free to message if you're unsure.

word count: 18k.

blurb: what if the Pogues never found El Dorado? Life in survival mode at the age of twenty-two sure had lost its shine. In that tarnish, JJ wonders if your relationship has too.

“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til' death do us part.”

JJ sits crossed legged on the floor of his living room. To his right is a half empty can of Coke and to his left is the plastic case for the VHS tape which is currently whirring in the player, displayed on the TV through grainy, wibbly lines. His bright blonde hair sticks every which way. The Goodwill sourced t-shirt is too big on his frame but his dad insisted he’d grow into it, and to stop his moaning and bitching. Be grateful, was his last warning. The shorts on his skinny legs seem to be getting smaller everyday, perhaps because JJ only seems to get taller. That slight discomfort is a lost thought right now. Instead, JJ is glued to the wedding video on the screen. Glued to the image of his mother, smiling up at his father, the two of them unaged and undamaged. The two of them are in love.

“I do,” JJ’s dad, Luke, says in an almost unrecognisable tone. Then, he leans forward at the officiant’s approval and kisses JJ’s mother. JJ misses her deeply. His heart squeezes at the sight of her smile, turning to the camera with a beam. He finds his own lips twitching up too as if her happiness is contagious. Then the tape cuts suddenly to the reception. It seems a small affair with only a handful of friends and family. JJ can place his uncle and aunt, who cradles his cousin Ricky in her arms, and a few more of his dad’s crowd of so-called friends. His mother can be seen in the background talking to her parents - JJ’s grandparents. They’d made themselves scarce after she walked out on JJ and his dad. Never once did JJ think he’d lose not only his mother but his grandparents too. Loneliness likes company, it seems.

Another sudden cut and it’s his parents dancing. Their first dance. The dark lighting of the hall messes with the low-quality cam-corder's exposure. They’re painted in rays of shadows and glow almost ethereal-like as they sway to the music. Luke whispers something in his new wife’s ear and she giggles, soundless as the crooning voice of Rod Stewart sings their wedding song: ‘Have I Told You Lately’. JJ grins. He decides then and there, at the big age of eight, that that’s what he wants. That sort of happiness. As if blinded by the cinema of it all, he forgets the reality. The mess that surrounds him in the neglected house; the absence of his mother and the recklessness of his father; the strange definition of love that’s been tied to the Maybank name.

So distracted by the tape, JJ doesn’t hear his dad rouse in the other room. He doesn’t hear the sound of the creaking door or the aching floorboards, and when he finally catches sight of Luke staggering down the hallway, it’s too late. His dad has caught sound of the song and it’s as if he’s intoxicated again, only now with rage. He glares at JJ and makes a b-line to the television screen, coming face to face with his hidden wedding tape. He had no idea JJ had found it and stashed it for his own safe keeping.

“What the damn hell do you think you’re doing?” he barks, turning to JJ. He grabs him by the shoulder with one hand and hoists him onto his feet. JJ’s tiny body floods with terror. His feet go numb and cold and his face burning hot. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, huh boy!?”

JJ flinches at his father’s tone. His lip quivers. “I…I only wanted–”

“You only wanted to what, huh? Stealing things like the no-good son-of-a-bitch you are, eh?” Luke hollers, spit flying from his mouth and onto JJ’s rosy skin.

“I just wanted to see mama,” JJ blubbers.

“You ain’t ever seein’ her again, you hear me?” Luke shouts. He tosses JJ back onto the floor. He lands on his backside with a smack, flinching at the feeling, and looks up to see his dad aggressively messing with the player. A new wave of panic comes over JJ as he jumps to his feet, darting forward for the tape before his dad can snap it in two. To JJ, it isn’t just a stupid VHS. It’s his mother.

“No! Gimme it!” JJ screeches, scratching and clawing at his father’s arms as he attempts to wrestle the tape from his hold. His small hand latches around it moments before Luke’s own smacks him clean across the cheek. The force sends him flying onto his side, reuniting with the floor. Sobbing, JJ clutches the tape close to his chest. His dad yells abuse at JJ, tumbling cuss words in casually amongst his berates. Keeping the tape close and safe to his stomach, JJ manages to his feet and faces up to his father. An anger that he’s never known before takes control. “I hate you!”

Before his dad can lunge for him again, JJ darts for the front door. He almost trips down the stairs in his hurry. The sound of his dad’s footsteps behind him sound like a giant’s, pounding against the floorboards. He chokes on his sobs as he sprints away from the house. I’m never coming back, he thinks to himself. That’ll show him. He doesn’t dare check to see if his dad is following. Not until he’s well away from the house, almost completely shot of breath, panting and heaving, no tears left to cry. Finally, he stops. He looks down at the tape with shaking hands to find it safe and intact. Luke and Marie’s Wedding Tape, it says in black sharpie across the front. He hugs it against him as if hugging his mother.

The moment of tranquillity is broken by a loud whoop and holler. His head flashes to the side to find a girl climbing on the old pier. It’s nearly completely decayed, broken down by a hurricane a few years back. Now it’s just pillars of wood, splintering and misaligned.

Some adult on the new pier is yelling at you. “I’ll tell your father, missy! You listenin’? You get down from there now!” Beside them are some friends, blissfully ignoring the warnings, cheering you on. You turn to them and JJ catches sight of your smile. It reminds him of his mother’s and a warm feeling sparks somewhere in his chest, as if lighting a match in a damp cave. The sun twinkles above your head and that’s when JJ notices the streak of hot pink in your hair. Woah - Cool. And then you’re falling - hurling yourself into the air and flying down into the water - out of sight. He takes a step forward, as if to do something, and waits anxiously with the others for you to re-emerge. You break to the surface with a cackle. Your friends erupt in cheers and you giggle, splashing water as if aiming for them despite being metres down below the pier. And then you look straight at JJ. It's just for a second, only a second, but a second was enough. Eight-year-old JJ Maybank was in love.

6 Years Later

Confidence is a powerful armour. It makes you almost untouchable. Nobody messes with the mouthy kid. The kid who gets in fights; the kid who makes the room laugh. JJ knew what it was like to be on the bottom of the food chain and he was never going to willingly put himself there. At school, he made himself a staple. A delinquent, known for his short fuse and reckless choices. It kept the bully’s off his scent and gave him a good outlet for the repressed anger and hatred he held towards his father. Though, the older he got (now fourteen), the more JJ fought back. His dad could no longer throw him to the ground as easily. Not now that JJ had taken up working out and picking fights in the school yard. Luke wasn’t the only one who knew how to throw a right-hook now. And the most important lesson JJ had learnt? Never let them see you cry.

The downsides? Cut lips, lingering bruises, and detention. So much detention.

“Nice of you to join us, Maybank,” the teacher mutters, not bothering to look up from his newspaper as JJ loiters into the classroom after school on Thursday.

“Happy to be back, sir,” JJ casually returns. He scribbles his name down on the sign up sheet, confirming his attendance, then scans the room.

There’s the regulars: Tommy Peach, who’s always doing time for selling whatever pills he can get his hands on in the parking lot; Ashley, who has a habit of smoking in the girl’s bathrooms; Colin, who got spotted with a gun in his backpack just the other day, supposedly just to ‘show it off’; and Pearl, who skipped three classes in one day (her record being four and a half). He catches her eye and winks - they’d made out behind the bike shed last week. You can spot the one-time offenders easily. They’re usually hanging their head at the very back, biting back tears, full of shame for letting down mommy and daddy. JJ had a certain distaste for them. He supposed it was because he knew his father could give less of a crap if JJ wound up in detention. If anything, JJ preferred it. Less time for him to be in his house and less risk of getting a beating for some slip-up. This time, the new offender is Patty Grayson - a goody-two-shoes smarty pants who had forgotten her homework. JJ’s surprised they didn’t let it slide given her track record. Finally, his eyes land on another new timer.

You’re not hanging your head as if praying for forgiveness, nor are you sobbing your apologies into the abyss. No: you look rather comfortable and - if anything - bored, as you lounge in your seat. A bottle of silver nail polish sits on the desk as you paint your nails. As if feeling his stare, you glance up and meet his gaze. You frown. Right, yeah, I’m being weird. JJ decides to take a seat next to you. He watches you in his peripheral vision for a while as you paint and paint. At one point, the teacher heads to the staff kitchen for dinner, giving a half-arsed warning about sneaking out. Pearl is happy to skip detention, probably addicted to the thrill, but everyone else stays sat. Suddenly, you look at JJ.

“Can I help you?”

“Huh?”

“You keep looking at me,” you say, irritated.

“I do?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, y’know…” You quirk a brow, waiting for his reply, and JJ scrambles for one. “Your hair.”

You frown. “What?”

“Your hair,” JJ uselessly repeats.

“What about it?”

“It’s purple.”

“Yeah. I dye it. It’s not my natural colour, idiot,” you reply.

“It looks nice,” JJ tells you. You’re visibly taken back, blinking at him for a second.

“Oh,” you mumble, lifting a hand to pet it, “thanks.”

“You ain’t ever been to detention before, right?” JJ checks, finding it easier to converse now that you’ve calmed down.

You laugh. It sounds just the same as when you were little, from the first time JJ saw you, but only deeper. More mature. “Cause I’m good at not gettin’ caught, unlike you.”

“Oh, you been keepin’ tabs on me or somethin’?” JJ grins.

“You hold the record for the most detentions, Maybank. Sorta puts you on the map," you say with a roll of your eyes.

Holy shit, she knows my name.

“Maybe you’ll have to teach me your ways some time,” JJ smoothly quips.

Shaking your head, you turn your focus back to painting your nails. “I work alone.”

Like some dork, JJ watches you for a while. Something tells him you know he is as there’s this little smile on your lips. His eyes trail down from your face to your arms and soon to your hands. Your knuckles are bruised and scabbed over and JJ frowns, curious and concerned despite having only just officially met you. Ever since the day at the pier back when he was eight, JJ had been vaguely aware of your existence. You were in the year above at school and undeniably cool. He’d seen you skating in the parking lot, caught you getting lectured for shoplifting at the local grocery shop for a candy bar, noticed you helping (who he assumed was) your dad fish, and seen you from time to time in the halls. The only person who was aware of his infatuation was John B, who tortured JJ relentlessly for it. Over the years, your hair has undergone many changes. At one point it was buzzed completely off. He didn’t see you much that year, come to think. Now it hangs just past your shoulders, a deep, enticing purple. It caught him off guard because only last week it was royal blue. Not that he was keeping track or anything…

“Here.”

JJ snaps out of his daydream to find you holding out something to him. A thin, white stick, rolled rather wonky.

“You want some?”

“Won’t we get caught?” JJ reflexively asks.

“Boo. Pussy,” you teasingly return, retracting the offer. You briefly glance to the doorway before retrieving a lighter: bright, shiny silver and square. You light the end and take a drag. There’s a sweet, sickly smell that comes from it.

“I ain’t a pussy,” JJ counters. There’s a smirk on your face as he takes the joint from you, guiding it to his lips to inhale. It catches uncomfortably in his throat and chest, making him cough. Laughing, you consolingly pat his back. He clenches his eyes shut: so embarrassing.

“You good?” you giggle.

“Never better,” JJ manages out through his chokes, giving you a shaky thumbs up.

“First time?”

He shakes his head but you’re unconvinced. Smiling, you dig about in your pocket to retrieve a set of house keys. JJ watches as you scratch something into the metal of your lighter. He takes another hit of the joint as you do so, managing better this second time around. As he goes to hand it back, you trade him for your lighter.

“Here,” you say, passing it to him. He takes it and looks at your inscription. JJ. His lips twitch in a smile. Glancing to you, you light-heartedly explain, “your first stoner lighter.”

As you finish taking another drag, the teacher’s footsteps sound from down the hall. Cool as a cat, you put the joint out on the underside of your chair and slip it back into a little metal box decorated with Powerpuff Girls stickers. It slips safely into your bag just as the teacher rounds into the room. At first, JJ worries you’re caught, as the teacher’s finger singles you out. But then he tosses his thumb over his shoulder.

“Your dad’s here early to pick you up,” he tells you.

If you’re happy to be leaving early, you don’t show it. If JJ didn’t know better, he’d even say you’re reluctant as you pack up your stuff. Shucking your backpack over your shoulder, you flash JJ a smile, rising to your feet.

“Well, hopefully I’ll see you around, Maybank.”

“Yeah, same here,” JJ says, smiling.

You walk past the desk and head out the door. JJ’s sure it’s the effect of you rather than the weed that leaves him feeling more dazed than ever before in his life.

Two Years Later

What better way to lay-low than by throwing a kegger? JJ’s logic was undisputed. Not only had he encouraged the Pogues to hang onto the money and the gun that they'd found in the motel room, but he also got them to throw a last-minute gathering at the Boneyard. Honestly, his genius should be rewarded.

As he mingles through the ever growing crowd, the sun growing darker by the minutes, JJ peruses the options. Some tourons had shown up: clueless but eager as they got roped into drinking games and conversations, and hit on constantly by locals. The kooks were mostly keeping to themselves, happy to drink the beers and cans brought by the people on the cut. Typical. Pearl catches JJ’s eye and she tips her cup at him in greeting from across the way, a seductive glint in her eyes and a telling message in her smile. JJ lazily tosses a hand up in return. They’d hooked up a few times now but he wasn’t feeling it tonight.

As if guided by fate, you come perfectly into JJ’s line of sight. You’re drinking from a red solo cup, chatting with some of your friends, pretty in an oversized tee and shorts. Again, just as you had in detention two years prior, your eyes catch onto his. This time, you smile. Saying something to your friend before heading over to JJ (who’s half certain he hit his head earlier and might be hallucinating).

“Enjoying yourself?” JJ asks the minute you’re in front of him. He’s taller now. Ever growing in his confidence; sex does that to a guy. It makes them feel invincible.

“I’m guessing your group is the one to thank for this kegger then?”

JJ grins. “We know how to throw a good party.”

“I’ll say,” you smile. “I wish there was more music though.”

“You dance?”

“Sometimes. If I’m with the right person,” comes your sly response, smiling up at him. “You look different since detention.”

JJ would like to think so: that was two years ago. “Really? Different how?”

“Taller. Fitter.”

“Hotter?”

You laugh as you say, “you’re pretty sure of yourself, huh?”

“I was told confidence is sexy,” JJ returns. “What’d you think?”

You don’t say anything but JJ knows he isn’t crazy when you take a sip of your drink, your eyes scanning over his body leisurely as you do. You give a small hum.

“So, got tired of the purple?” JJ asks, gesturing to your hair. It’s long now and seemingly your natural hue again, like it was that day at the pier all those years ago. There’s now little strands of tinsel in it that reflect different colours in a silverish shine depending on how the light hits it. Your nose ring is new too, though JJ noticed that the minute you had that done. He noticed you a lot, even if he never spoke to you. You never did to him so he just assumed to stay clear. Besides, there was a rumour that you went out with Tommy Peach a few months back and JJ didn’t feel like getting his ass handed to him. JJ was good at fighting now, as unfortunate as that was to admit, and he was aware he was in good shape, but Tommy was feral and tall. God knows why you wanted to go out with a scumbag like that, but JJ supposed he wasn’t much of a step up either.

“My dad hated it,” you say. “And I wanted a change.”

“Shame. I liked the purple.”

“So you don’t like it like this?” you wonder. “Bummer. I was gonna try and shoot my shot with you but guess I’ve lost my chance…”

JJ’s eyes somehow don’t fall out of his head. He chuckles, almost nervously, and clears his throat. “Say what?”

You roll your eyes . “When a girl gives you her lighter and says she hopes she sees you around, JJ, it’s her way of saying ‘you’re cute, we should hang’.”

Oh.

Laughing, as if hearing his inner monologue, you shrug. “Guess I got tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Lucky for you, I’m two beers in and that seems like enough confidence to come over”

“Two beers? I don’t wanna be taking advantage of you,” JJ teases, making you laugh.

“Can’t believe you’re accusing me of being a lightweight when you nearly died after smoking your first joint.”

“Woah! Low blow!”

“I thought I’d murdered you! I was scared you were allergic or some shit,” you giggle.

JJ grins down at you and tries to retrace his steps to how he got here, stood on the beach, talking to you and having you actively hit on him. It feels like a wet dream he’d concoct on lonely nights. He stays in that borderline stupor as the two of you talk and talk. You’re funny, but JJ already knew that, and you’re an adrenaline junky too, but JJ knew that as well. The two of you like the same kind of music so that leads to a huge discussion which almost becomes an argument of who was better: Kid Cudi or J. Cole? The more the drinks flow, the more your hand finds solace on his thigh, and the more his on yours. Soon enough JJ's foot’s rubbing leisurely at your ankle, personal space a long disputed myth, and he’s fighting the urge to kiss you. He’s not sure why he’s dragging it out when you’re obviously into him. Maybe he just wants to keep the anticipation alive for a little bit longer. After all, he’s wanted this since he was eight years old.

The moment is interrupted by someone hollering your name. As you look up, JJ realises how dark it is. It’s officially night now with the moon high in the sky. A few people have pulled on sweaters as the evening has cooled, especially with the seafront breeze, but JJ feels burning hot. He spots someone waving at you and beside them is a girl crouched in the sand. You cuss and get up.

“That’s my friend. I better go help,” you hurriedly explain. You pass JJ your empty cup and give an apologetic smile. Then, you press a brief kiss to his lips. It's so brief that it barely feels real, and JJ doesn’t register it until you’re already walking away. “I’ll be back soon! Sorry!”

JJ watches as you hurry over and help out your vomiting buddy. Sighing, bummed, he looks around and tries to track down his friends. The alcohol hits him when he stands, flooding from his brain, down to his body like ice cold water. He staggers for only a moment in the direction of John B, filling up the cups in his hands on the way as if willingly ignoring his body’s messages. He whistles out to catch his best friend’s attention, offering him one of the cup’s of beer. But Sarah Cameron and her douchebag boyfriend Topper make their way past, and something inside of JJ seeks mayhem. He offers it out to her instead but Topper tries to lay claim.

“That’s nice of you man, but I didn’t ask you,” JJ returns. “If you said ‘pretty please’, maybe. But you didn’t.”

“Oh! Pretty please!” a squiffy Topper checks.

“Yeah,” JJ replies. “So, Sarah, I promise–”

The beer hits JJ’s face in a non-refreshing wake-up. His anger tips quick like a nuclear bomb. His hands come up to Topper’s shirt, grabbing him before shoving him back. John B’s hand comes up to JJ’s chest, firmly trying to hold him back.

“You’re so funny man!” JJ sarcastically urges. Before he can push it further, Topper says something that has John B lurching at him and soon enough, a full on fist fight begins. Pope is quick to intervene with JJ, holding him back, and no matter how much the latter struggles, he can’t seem to get to his best friend. Concerning seeps into the anger as he watches Topper lay into John B, kicking him into the water. And then pride when John B starts to fight back. “Give it to him, man!”

The night feels as though it’s split into two as JJ loses himself in watching the fight. His conversation with you might have happened years ago as his attention homes in on the flying fists and chants of the watchers. And then it all turns sour. Topper holds John B down into the water, face smushed into the sand, and all he can hear is Sarah begging for him to stop. JJ fidgets nervously, eager to do something, unsure of what. Then, another genius idea.

It feels out of body as he retrieves the gun and checks the safety. As he makes his way over to the water and presses it against Topper’s head. It doesn’t feel like he’s in control of his body when JJ clicks the safety off. Topper stills beneath him.

“Yeah, you know what that is,” he warns through clenched teeth. “Your move, broski.”

Nothing but the waves. Nothing but his heartbeat. Nothing but John B’s choked breathes in the water.

“Put the gun down!”

“Did you say something, princess?” JJ asks Sarah, focus on Topper’s hands. Eventually, they lift off John B’s weak body. The rich asshole repeats that they’re good and JJ shoves him down. But he’s still so angry. He’s always so angry. The mentality comes back from when he first started school. Never be the weak one. Never let them get the upper hand. Assert your dominance. He raises the gun into the air and turns to the dying crowd. “Okay, everyone, listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!”

The gun fires twice, the recoil minimal. It cracks in the silence of the night. A few people scream, alarmed, and then they start to run.

JJ comes back to his body when Kiara shoves him. An argument breaks out between himself, Pope and Kie, and as the two others rush to help John B (who collapses back into the waves), JJ finally remembers the night. The whole night. He remembers you. As he looks out into the mass of bodies rushing away from the scene of the almost crime, he spots you. You look conflicted, for only a second, and then you leave too.

Shit.

The next day, JJ kills the time in the mid-morning with target practice in the back yard. The cops had swung by earlier and he thought it right to celebrate keeping the gun. Your whistle sounds like a birdcall. JJ’s head whips around at the sound, startled, and it seems to amuse you. He lowers his gun and frowns, confused at the sight of you.

“How d’you know I live here?”

“I have my sources,” you smile, tapping the side of your nose. You wander leisurely into his back yard toward him as if you’ve been there thousands of times before. Nodding to the gun in his hand, you quirk a brow. “So, they didn’t take it off you?”

“Let me off with a warning,” JJ shrugs. “They couldn’t find the gun and have no proof that I kept it…”

“Ah. Loopholes,” you hum.

When you come to a pause beside him, JJ awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. “Look, I’m real sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“Freak me out how?” you frown.

“With the whole…gun…thing.”

Laughing, you shake your head. “That ain’t why I left JJ.”

“It ain’t?”

“No! I mean, Topper looked as though he wasn’t gonna let up, so,” you say, shrugging in agreement with JJ’s previous actions. “I just can’t go back to prison anytime soon. My dad’ll kill me.”

“Back to prison?” JJ says. He shouldn’t be as impressed (or turned on) by that as he is.

“Ooo, the big scary place, I know,” you grin, teasing, before randomly making a grab for the gun. JJ barks out a laugh, holding it up and out of reach. “Come on! Lemme have a go!”

“You ever shoot before?” JJ asks, eyeing you up.

Rolling your eyes, you nod. “We have a BB in our house that I fire around all the time. I wanna see how this one feels.”

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t give a weapon to a known criminal, right?” JJ says, tone almost flirtatious.

“Come on. You can do the whole ‘let me show you’ thing.”

Lowering the gun, JJ chuckles, befuddled. “The what?”

“You know! When guys wanna feel a girl up they pretend to teach them how to do stuff. Like a tennis instructor or something. They’re all like ‘let me show you’.”

“You tellin’ me you got a tennis instructor?”

“Yeah, and a mansion with three yachts - now come on!”

Shaking his head, laughing, JJ relents. He hands you the gun, safety on, and partly to follow along with your joke, but mostly to feel your body close to his, JJ stands almost fully behind you. He checks which is your dominant hand and guides your arms up into position. He shifts the position of your fingers. Your hair catches slightly in the wind and the smell of fruit and herbs dulls his senses. When he speaks again, you giggle.

“Your breath tickles,” you mutter.

“It does?” JJ checks, purposefully speaking even closer against the skin of your neck. You squirm and laugh and JJ has no idea how any of this happened, but he sure as hell isn’t complaining. “You gotta keep still.”

As if to coax you to do so, JJ plants one of his hands on the side of your waist. Your breathing seems to catch with that, all giggles dead on your tongue, and JJ struggles to bite back his smirk. His chin rests comfortably on your shoulder as he follows your line of vision. You click the safety off under his instruction and then fire. He feels the power of the gun run down your arms, the recoil making your body jilt only slightly. Clicking the safety on again, you lower the gun and turn your head. Eyes half-hooded, you look up from his lips into his eyes. JJ notices a small, relatively fresh cut under your eye. Was that there last night? That train of thought derails when your tongue peaks out, dampening your lips. JJ loses all patience. His lips are on yours, kissing you, hand tightening just so on your side. You carelessly drop the gun to the floor and turn in his hold. Hands on his face, on his shoulders, around his neck, in his hair…JJ kisses you until he’s not sure what his name is anymore. Even then, he kisses you still.

From there, the two of you were intertwined in one another’s lives. There was no other way to put it: JJ adored you. It was as if you constantly shared a common thought: JJ had never met someone so like himself. Two sides of the same stone. The Pogues noticed it easily. You didn’t exactly have to ask to join the gang. The fact that JJ trusted you enough to bring you around spoke volumes to his friends. They’d never met one of his previous situationships or flings before, and from that they could recognise this was something different. Seeing the two of you together just drove that point home faster. Birds of a feather. When the wild goose chase surrounding the Royal Merchant cropped up, you joined that too. Pope joked that there was something wrong with your amygdala, which upon explanation meant that you seemed to have a pretty low fear factor. It came after you literally wrestled Barry for the gun when they got held at gunpoint. All you’d done was shrug and said that you’d known “true fear” and that wasn’t it. Nobody knew what that meant, including JJ, but he had a feeling that he might after he dropped you home one time.

The Chateau had become almost as familiar to you as it was to JJ. The pair of you had claimed the porch as your go-to smoking spot. One Tuesday afternoon, you sit sprawled in the armchair: head on one armrest and legs swung over the other. Your now lilac highlighted hair dangles in two braids. JJ is keeping himself entertained by tracing his eyes up and down your legs, over your stomach and chest, up to your dozed out face, and back again. The two of you were smoking hash, passing it back and forth leisurely, sharing mindless musings about life and the world and what things might be like if you actually found the gold.

“I’d buy a house,” you say.

“Lame.”

“A big house,” you continue, ignoring him and gesturing in front of you as if visualising it. “It’d be pastel blue with big white shutter-style windows and a wrap-around porch. There’d be one of those porch swings sat out front. Oh! And flowers. A shit ton of flowers.”

“You can’t even keep a cactus alive,” JJ snorts.

“I’d hire a gardener. Duh,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Anything else?” JJ wonders. He keeps a mental checklist: blue house; white shutters…

“A dog,” you smile. “And a cat.”

“Alright then.” Maybe it’s the manner that he says it that has you looking at him, amused. “I’ll do it.”

“You’ll ‘do it’?” you chuckle, raising your brows.

“Yeah. When we find the gold–”

“If we find the gold–”

“When,” JJ insists, making you laugh, “I’ll get you your house and your dog.”

“Don’t forget the cat,” you warn, pointing at him.

“Christ, lady! And your cat.”

“Good,” you smile.

You look back to the ceiling and slip your eyes shut, sighing contentedly. JJ chuckles, shaking his head, gazing at you as if you sculpted the planets and personally hung them in the solar system. It’s short lived bliss, however, because your phone pings. Then again, and again, until it’s nothing but an ongoing buzz of noise. JJ frowns at it and you quickly reach over to the window ledge where it’s precariously sat. The moment your eyes scan the screen, you sit up. Everything about your demeanour shifts. JJ sees the second you switch to panic.

“I gotta go,” you mumble. You swing your legs off the sofa and stand. JJ’s quick to follow.

“Everything okay?”

“I just gotta go home right now,” you reply, already making your way down the porch steps. JJ ditches the spoon pipe on the coffee table and catches up.

“I’ll take you on my bike,” he says, grabbing your hand and guiding you to it. You don’t argue and he doesn’t ask for an explanation for the urgency. Wordlessly, the two of you climb on - your arms tethering around his middle - and JJ starts the engine. Speed limits become a pleasantry rather than a courtesy as JJ speeds to your house. Your phone doesn’t let up the whole journey and with every ping, JJ bumps it up by another mile per hour. It’s a skidding halt when he stops outside your house. He’d only been there a handful of times before, usually to pick you up. Similarly to JJ, you didn’t like going home all that much. You’re climbing off the bike before JJ shuts the engine off. Seemingly at the sound of the engine, your dad emerges in the front door. You turn to JJ. He doesn’t recognise the look on your face.

It terrifies him.

“JJ, you have to leave - now,” you tell him.

He frowns, brows tugging together. “What’re you–”

“Just leave. Go. Please, JJ,” you push, glancing between him and your approaching father. Something softens in your tone, akin to desperation. “Please.”

JJ looks to your dad just as he passes the threshold of the porch, then looks to you once more as if needing approval. You nod as if understanding. The same thought, always shared. Then JJ’s turning tightly in the makeshift drive of your house and starting off down the road before your dad reaches you. He acutely registers the funny feeling, tight in his chest as if something was squeezing his heart and lungs in a vice. It was the same feeling JJ got whenever he went home.

The same feeling JJ got whenever he saw his own father.

As the months went on, the relationship you and JJ shared was soaked in marjuana and sweat. Smoking in the morning and fucking through the night. Not only did you encourage JJ’s idiocy, but you joined it. It was as if you were there to enable the other. Shoplifting beers, pier jumping in the thick of night, skinny dipping before dusk, pulling crazy stunts with the others that nearly wound up getting you killed more times to count. But just like JJ, you were loyal. It was as if the minute you became a Pogue, you wore it like a military title, nothing short of honoured. You’d lay your life down for the group and for the hunt for gold.

JJ wasn’t sure who said I love you first. He’s not even sure if either of you ever said it. You don’t have to say I love you to say I love you. Besides, two avoidant, daddy issue riddled teenagers didn’t make for the most textbook healthy relationship. The two of you would fight and it was bad when you did. But it was a rarity. There was little time for blow-out arguments when you were running from one place to another, chasing lead after lead. Hell, even when you seemed to have time to breathe, something else always came up.

“I never make good grades in school. When I get out, I act like a fool. I come in the party and cause a commotion. Yeah, I’m smooth they call me lotion.”

JJ cracks up with the others, breaking his beatboxing rhythm, as Pope loses his verse. He has a more than comfortable buzz going: energised by the beer and mellowed out by the weed. JJ thought he could handle his stuff well until he met you. This was the first time in a long time the two of you had properly partied together, outside of sharing a joint or doing edibles on an evening. You were about seven cans deep, one joint smoked and two lines of coke snorted. Your hair, now red, was damp from the hot tub; your nose ring sparkling in the disco ball’s reflecting light. JJ tried to keep his attention on the gang but no matter what, his eyes kept running back to you. The bikini top you’re wearing is truly a cruel design. Whoever invented it hated anybody who admired the female figure: they designed it to torture them. The liquor certainly didn’t help the situation, nor did your knowing glances and sly smiles.

"Think Kanye might have some serious competition there," you sardonically quip.

“Alright, alright, let’s hear it then,” Pope challenges, turning the focus to you. Everyone ooo’s dramatically as you laugh. You take a hit of your freshly rolled joint and shrug. As you rise out of the water, moving to sit on the outer edge of the hot tub, the gang erupts into cheers. JJ's mesmerised by the way the droplets of water race down over your tits, trickling down your chest.

“Okay, alright, well someone gimme a beat, at least,” you say.

JJ’s happy to indulge. Laughing, you bop your head along and try to follow.

“I failed the first grade in school, but my teacher told me I’m a cool dude. The kids in the playground scattered, cause my bars would leave them battered–”

The gang whoops and you crack up, trying desperately to stay on track. JJ’s trying desperately not to stare at your chest and lose track of his makeshift beat.

“When I fuck they call me lewd, cause I get freaky when I’m in the wrong mood. My boy never seems to complain, but his dick might be in some pain.”

JJ practically chokes on his laughter. There’s a symphony of cheers and jests and (in Pope’s case) groans from the others, and you throw your hands up in surrender.

“Y’all asked for it! I’m jus’ saying!” you giggle, sinking back into the water. You take another hit of your joint and wink across to JJ. His dick twitches uselessly in his swim shorts as you do so. Such a fucking tease.

“You two were made for each other, Goddamn,” Kiara chuckles.

The pair of you laugh it off but JJ feels his heart stir at the notion. Maybe it’s the weed talking or the alcohol intoxicating his thoughts, but the more time JJ spends with you, the more he’s certain that you two were meant to find each other. There’s no other explanation for it. You were an entire world in one small human being, filled with stories and secrets, some of which he might never know, but most he’d spend his life wanting to.

As the night stretches on and the drinks continue to flow, the mood simmers down from a bubbly celebration to an almost sentimental reunion. The hot tub has been abandoned as the mosquitos began to gather and the air began to cool, and JJ was sick of hearing you and Sarah drop hints about how you were “turning pruney.” So now you sit in the deck chairs with Kiara and Sarah and John B, watching JJ and Pope wrestle. Grappling on Pope’s upper arms, JJ tries to get the upper leg.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, go for the leg,” he lightly encourages his lesser violent friend. With that, Pope tackles JJ onto the floor. He hits the ground with a gentle smack. “You got a new technique now, huh?”

Pope rises in victory, pretty drunk, arms in the air. JJ laughs, sitting up to notice a beer extended out to him in offer from you. He takes it with a grin, having two large swigs.

“I’m done. I’m out of here,” Pope announces to nobody in particular, walking away from the campfire.

“You want a round two?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll take my losses,” Pope replies. JJ begins wandering back over to you with a shrug just as Kiara suddenly gets up from her seat. She flashes Sarah some kind of look that girls must track better than boys, as Sarah and yourself gape at her.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Way to be discreet!” JJ hollers after them. When he steals Kiara’s chair, sitting beside you, you’re still giggling.

“Okay, am I just oblivious or did nobody else notice them vibing on each other?” you wonder, looking to the others.

“Dude. Seriously?” JJ sniggers.

“I didn’t notice!”

“How could you not– You know what? It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Only one of us needs to be the love expert here,” JJ reassures, stretching his arm out over the back of your chair in what he thinks is a rather suave manner. You snort, gently brushing it off.

“Love expert? Uh-huh. Sure, kiddo.”

“Kiddo,” John B mutters, amused.

JJ scoffs, grinning at you. “Oh really?”

“Yep,” you return, not quite sure what you’re arguing over now. JJ decides to put an end to it by squeezing the sides of your exposed stomach, tickling your skin and causing you to squirm. As he does so, John B mumbles something about being out of beer. Sarah follows him and leaves you and JJ in the company of the music, the cicadas and chickens.

“Thought you danced,” JJ says, referring to the music, thinking back to the night at the kegger.

“I might do later.”

JJ just nods and the two of you smile at one another, the playfulness of the moment easing away the same way the arousal had earlier in the hottub.

“You’re so handsome,” you quietly tell him. "My good looking boy, huh?"

JJ chuckles, looking down, bashful whenever you threw compliments like that at him. He could handle ‘sexy’ or ‘hot’ rather well, took them in stride, but words like handsome were like flakes of gold being sprinkled in his hair. They felt valuable, especially when they came from your mouth. Not always the best with words, JJ thanks the self-medication for what falls out of his mouth next.

“You’re the prettiest Goddamn thing on this planet.”

You’re visibly stunned and JJ wants to high-five himself. Giving him a coy smile, you lean your head back against your seat, staring into the star scattered sky.

“God, I could just stay here forever,” you sigh.

JJ mimics your actions. He traces the stars and tries to see if he can make constellations of your face. He glances at you and notices how they reflect on your eyes, as if scattering diamonds into your irises to make them shimmer. Your skin is kissed amber by the fairy lights strung in the branches above. Everything just makes you glow: ethereal. A foot kicking his own snaps JJ out of his lovesick stupor. A rather amused John B smirks knowingly down at him.

“It’s creepy to stare, man,” John B joshingly berates.

“He does it all the time,” you mumble. “That’s why I asked him out.”

Sarah laughs at that and you crack up too, but before another conversation can begin, your laughter dies down and your brows furrow.

“What was that?” John B asks, as if reading your mind.

“Your chickens?” JJ wonders, having heard nothing but the incessant clucking of the birds.

“It sounded like a car door,” you mumble. JJ, distracted, begins to cluck like a chicken, hoping to lighten the mood, more drunk than he thought he was, but your hand presses over his mouth to silence him. You rise to your feet slowly and JJ decides to follow. He squints into the distance.

“I think someone’s here,” John B mutters.

“Up the trees. Quickly” you instruct, fast to take action.

You shut off the music as Sarah hurries to put out the fire. JJ decides to help her, tossing handfuls of sand atop of the flames. He looks to the tree to find you already a decent way up. He stands by the bottom of the other tree with John B to help give Sarah a boost, aware of the fragility of her stitches, and then lets John B go up before himself. He settles on the same branch as you, a hand protectively settling on your waist. You’d already taken a rather reckless course of action in Charleston with Renfield, trying to tackle the taser from his hands to buy all of you more time to run. In case you felt the urge to drop from the trees in some surprise attack, JJ could now hold you back.

Sure enough, only a couple of minutes later, Rafe and Barry creep into the backyard. JJ feels you stiffen and he tightens his grip just slightly in reassurance. They didn’t know you were in the trees. God bless your quick thinking. Barry makes his way into the house, gun raised and ready, whilst Rafe studies the spots you’d all been relaxing in only moments prior.

“Where the hell are you?” he mumbles to himself.

None of you speak. None of you dare breathe let alone move. JJ looks to John B and Sarah, who look just as troubled as he feels. Rafe was unpredictable. Unstrung. And it was easy to assume that JJ was not on Barry’s nice list, that was for sure. As they sit and lie in wait, praying not to be spotted, Barry and Rafe seem to decide that nobody’s home. As he’s about to take a sigh of relief, Rafe fires the gun up into the trees. His heart jumps and his chest heaves. The bullet ricochets off the trunk of the tree near his back. You flinch in JJ’s hold at the gunshots and the shock nearly has you losing your balance. JJ quickly shifts his hand higher up your side, leaning as close to you as physically possible to whisper in your ear.

“I got you,” he reassures.

Barry thankfully ushers Rafe away at that point but none of you dare move until you the car is long out of sight. Sighing, you relax against JJ and him against you. It was ironic how the two of you were no strangers to violence and yet, the same spark of fear was alight anytime either of you were faced with it.

You see, the same way ‘I love you’ didn’t need an explanation, neither did yours and JJ’s homelives. JJ never intended to introduce you to his father and he never met yours. More times than not, you’d meet and hang and sleep at the Chateau. If you spent time at one of your two house’s, it was when it was empty. The cuts and bruises that would appear on either of your bodies never came with questioning. Somehow, someway, the two of you knew how and where. You’d soundlessly clean them and console the other and the whole thing would be as forgotten as a terrorist attack: over, in the back of the mind, but never fully erased. The anger JJ felt whenever he saw you after you’d had a run-in with your father was different to that which he felt when he had a run-in with his own. Deeper, darker, more vengeful. One night, it reached its crux.

JJ wakes up with a start. At first he isn’t sure what snapped him out of sleep. Then, he hears it again. A faint creaking in the floorboards from the main body of his house. His house that he now lives in alone. What if his dad came back? JJ gets out of bed dressed in nothing but a pair of sweatpant shorts. He slowly picks up a spanner that’s laying on his bedroom floor, ditched after a day trying to switch out the deck of his skateboard, and pushes his door open carefully. He slowly inches down the almost pitch-black hallway. The only light is that from the window: moonbeams that shine through the glass.

At the sight of your silhouette, JJ lets out a heavy sigh. The spanner falls to the ground with an echoing thud.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the crap outta me,” JJ says with a relieved laugh. He makes his way across the room to you but his smile fades when he notices how stiff you are. “You a’right?”

This close, he can begin to make out your face through the dark. It’s haunting.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” JJ breathes, horrified.

Dark bags sit under your eyes which are hollowed out as if you’d been lost at sea, a vacant stare that almost looks past him. Your lip is quivering. Small, shaky, shallow breaths come in and out of your mouth. The worst part? The blood.

His hands fly up toward your face and your eyes clamp shut quickly as preparing for a hit. JJ freezes before he touches your skin, slowing his movements, trying to ease his own panic. His eyes scan your features, counting the injuries, trying to see the damage beneath the gore.

“What the fuck happened?”

You don’t talk. Nothing but that same ominous silence. You’re in shock. JJ’s seen it before from when he pulled over at a motorcycle crash. It’s as if the mind retreats in on itself and guards from the unpredictable. JJ swallows and clenches his jaw, trying to steal himself.

“A’right, we, uh, we gotta clean you up,” he manages. He carefully links his fingers through yours and feels your barely tangible grip. Then he guides you into the bathroom. Lowers you gently onto the toilet seat. In his peripheral vision, he sees no sign of movement or acknowledgement as he retrieves the beloved first aid kit from the bathroom cupboard. It balances precariously on the edge of the sink as he digs about for cleaning supplies.

JJ starts with your face. Your upper lip is busted at the edge, coated in dry blood but already beginning to scab. When you get in as many bruise ups as JJ, you learn to have a strange appreciation and fascination with the human body in how it heals. The antiseptic must sting but you don’t even blink. You just stare past him. Even before, you’d never been this detached. You might be angry or frustrated or even upset, but never absent. Never this. The blood around your eye comes from a gash just across your right brow. There’s an impressive bruise on the apple of your left cheek and a telling pink handprint that refuses to fade on your right. The fury begins to chip at JJ’s resolve.

Following your bizarre routine, JJ moves to unbutton your shirt, to check for any signs of internal bleeding, broken ribs, open cuts or ugly bruises across your upper body. The minute his fingers brush your sternum, your hands fly up. He’s not even sure how he winds up on the floor and it takes a moment to piece together the seconds and register that it was you. Frowning, thoroughly alarmed, JJ’s head shoots up to find your chest heaving. You make a noise as if you’re crying but no tears fall. His lips part in horror and his mind scrambles for any explanation other than the obvious.

“Woah, woah, woah, hey,” JJ hurries, rocking onto his knees and planting his hands reassuringly on yours. Your whole body is shaking. “It’s a’right, yeah? Jus’ me. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Your eyes clamp shut and the tears begin to fall.

"You're safe now."

After a trembling inhale, you begin to sob. Heartbroken, hideous, harrowing sobs. JJ feels tears swirl in his waterline at the sight and sound. He knew you better than anyone - better than the Lord himself - and to see you so far from who you are was like seeing someone’s body turn inside out. Unsure of what to do, he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace and lets you fall into him.

You just cry.

Later, JJ sits outside the bathroom. His back is pressed against the door. Inside, he can hear the slosh of the bath water from time to time when you shift. He meddles with the rings on his fingers. His teeth gnaw on his lower lip. JJ assesses his options. He knows the “right” thing to do and he knows the “wrong” thing to do, and he knows the one he prefers out of the two, even if he shouldn't. His eyes flit over to the pile of your clothes that he’d taken out the room with him, back turned to give you privacy when you changed (as if you hadn’t given your body to him countless times before). The blood stained shirt. The shorts that had a telling rip at the crotch, the zip practically shattered. The missing panties. His throat turns thick and his eyes clench shut, forehead falling down against his clenched fists. He tries desperately to breathe through the anger. Before he can reach any sort of conclusion, he hears you get out of the bathtub. A few minutes later, the twisting doorknob prompts him to stand. You stand dressed in his clothes and offer him a small smile, and JJ feels his whole body sigh with relief.

“How you feelin’?” JJ asks.

You shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Exhausted.”

“Anything hurting still?”

“No,” you say. You walk past him and into his bedroom and he follows. Climbing onto his bed, you wrap yourself up on his side in the blankets. JJ heads to the kitchen to grab some water and pain meds before coming back and joining you, sitting against the headrest, unsure whether to touch you or not. You seem to answer the question for him. You cuddle into his side and nestle your head against his upper chest. His hands coil safely around your body, holding you close, and he plants a kiss on top of your head. Then he finally speaks.

“We need to go to the cops.”

You sigh and close your eyes. “JJ, no–”

“You don’t even gotta press charges but they have to know.”

“I don’t want to do that.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you know how it is, JJ,” you argue, sitting up to face him. “It’s my word against his and he never technically did anything. They’ll take one look at him and listen to my story, and then probably get me to recount it a million times over to a million other strangers. To a million other men. It’s humiliating and it’s pointless and I don’t want to do it.”

“It ain’t pointless and there’s nothing humiliating about it,” JJ insists. “You’re the victim here–”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, glaring at him.

Sighing, JJ closes his eyes and clenches the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his cool. The last thing you need tonight is another fight. Besides, it’s not as if you’re wrong. JJ trusted the police as far as he could throw them; he didn’t doubt that they’d be useless. But the thought of you going back to your dad and for him to get away with what he did…JJ didn’t know what other option you really had. Your fingers gently wrap around JJ’s hand, easing it away from his face, coaxing his eyes to meet yours.

“Two more months, JJ.”

He sighs again but you’re quick to continue.

“Two more months and I’m eighteen and he isn’t my legal guardian anymore! I don’t have to deal with the whole rigged court system or with a foster home - I can just be rid of him for good.”

“Two more months? You think I’m gonna let you go back there for two more months after this?” JJ scoffs, eyeing up your injuries. His stomach churns and jaw ticks at the thought of what could’ve happened if you hadn’t managed to get the upper hand. You sigh and look away.

“I don’t know…Maybe he won’t do it again.”

“If he does it once, he’ll do it again,” JJ mutters. He remembers having the same thought the first time his dad hit him. It was an accident. He apologised. He didn’t mean it. By the end, JJ was on cloud nine if he went a week without a smack. But your situation was somehow even heavier than that. His stomach churns again.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, sounding nothing short of defeated.

JJ just tugs you back against his chest. You trace a finger over his chest in swirling patterns as if personifying the state of his mind. Maybe you could live with JJ. I mean, you practically already did. The two of you were rarely away from the Chateau these days, and once you were eighteen - just as you said - your dad had no hold on you. Maybe if the Pogues could get the cross then JJ could finally afford that big pastel blue house for you, with the wrap around porch, and guard dogs to sick ‘em anytime your dad came within a fifty mile radius of you. Maybe–

JJ’s eyes widen. It hits him. His best idea to date.

“Marry me.”

JJ isn’t sure he actually said it for a while because you don’t speak. You don’t even move.

“What did you just say?”

“Marry me.”

You immediately start to laugh. You shake your head against his chest. “Jesus Christ. Did you slip and hit your bed whilst I was in the bathtub?”

“I’m serious. Marry me,” JJ says. Maybe it’s his tone that cuts off your hysterics. You quickly break out of his hold again and look at him, studying his expression. Your eyes widen.

“Holy shit, you really are serious,” you mumble.

“Marry me,” JJ repeats as if those are the only words he knows how to say.

You laugh, bewildered, “JJ, we’re seventeen.”

“So.”

“So? So…We’re seventeen!” you cackle. “We can’t get married JJ.”

“Who says?” JJ shrugs, beginning to smile. You haven’t said no.

“Um let’s see,” you mumble, lifting your fingers to count. “The court…The law…Our parents.”

“We don’t have parents.”

“Maybe not good or present ones, but we still have legal guardians, JJ.”

“Those are all technicals–”

“-Technicalities-”

“-Whatever. Point is, those are irrelevant,” JJ says, wafting it away. His hands grab yourself in a tight clutch. Your mouth remains perfectly parted, slightly upturned at the corners. It only pushes his smile. “I know you’re it for me. I ain’t good at all the sappy-dappy-love-crap, but I’ve been in love with you since I was a kid–”

“--JJ–”

“--And I don’t want anybody else! Ever. We’re a team, ain’t we? Hunt for gold together, spend our life together.” When you study him in silence for a while, JJ tags on, “I mean, I’m gonna do it eventually so I might as well do it now.”

“That is insane reasoning to propose, JJ,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. Even if your face is half beaten beyond recognition, JJ knows you’re the most beautiful girl on the planet. The moment he knew he shared the same earth as you, JJ wanted you to be in his life. And you still haven’t said no.

“I love you,” JJ says, plain and simple. Shaking his head slightly, he grins. “P4L, right? I mean, we really got nothing to lose here.”

You stare at him and scoff, quiet and underbreath, almost fascinated. Your eyes slip shut and JJ begins to grin because he knows. A deep, heavy sigh, and you laugh again.

“God help me, I must have gone crazy,” you mutter. Your eyes open into his. Then you smile the prettiest smile the world has ever seen. “Yes. I’ll marry you, JJ Maybank.”

JJ wastes no time in connecting his lips with yours. You giggle against them, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding him closer and closer. When you break apart, barely a hair’s width between your damp lips, you smile as you speak.

“My good looking boy.”

Five Years Later

Whiskey isn’t quite caramel. No, it’s more tawny. More gingerbread coloured, especially in this hue, illuminated by the crappy bar lighting hanging above JJ’s head. His knuckles knock against the side of the cool glass, mesmerised by the sound of his metal rings clinking, distracted in his drunken haze by the bobbing of the three ice cubes in the liquor.

“JJ.”

His head sluggishly lifts at the sound of his name. He comes face to face with the long-time bartender, Corbin.

“It’s last orders, man. You wanting a refill?” Corbin asks.

JJ sighs and shakes his head. “Nah, I better not. What time is it?”

“It’s nearly one,” Corbin replies.

JJ nods then repeats, “nah, I better not.”

“You wanting to settle up for that now?” he wonders, glancing down at JJ’s half full drink.

JJ swallows and rubs tiredly at his eyes. “I, uh…Just put it on my tab for now, a’right?”

Corbin sighs. “Look, JJ. I’ve known you a long time so I’ve been letting it slide but this tab’s starting to stack up. You gotta pay it sometime.”

JJ shoots him a glare; his emotions twisted by the alcohol. “And I’m gonna. I just…Things are a lil’ tight right now so I can’t settle it just yet.”

Corbin decides not to push the topic. He does as he’s asked and adds JJ’s three whiskey on ice beverages to his resume-like tab. When he leaves to square things away at some other end of the bar, JJ glances around the room.

Corbin’s bar, Grub Bucket, hadn’t changed in anybody’s lifetime. JJ could recall coming out here as a kid on the hunt for his dad and sneaking past the intimidating bikers out front, weaving through the drunken fools of Kildare to find his dad almost paralytic near the pool tables. The smell was the same too: musty and beer drenched and tired. JJ wonders if he finds the smell comforting - nostalgic maybe. At the sight of several patrons leaving through the door into the pitch-black night, JJ remembers himself and the time, and he downs the last of his drink. The bitter sting is soothing on his tongue and eases the ache, and it goes down easy like a crisp, cool apple juice back in grade school.

He staggers out the bar and stumbles the familiar route home. It’s as engraved in his mind as the journey to the shops or the docks. Home appears through thick overgrowth. It’s a piece of shit trailer, obvious even in this lighting, that’s discoloured and dirty on the exterior. There are weeds that protrude from below the body of the home and gas canisters lined beside overflowing trash cans and countless fishing, surf and mechanic crap. The recycling bin is always full of empty wine bottles and cans of beer.

The stairs creak in concern as he makes his way up them. The third is broken in the middle and even intoxicated, he has the sense to avoid it. A squeaky door that needs the entirety of his body weight to open, his shoulder slamming into the upper left, and the instant smell of damp desperately trying to be combated with some cheap candle from Goodwill.

There’s few rooms in the trailer. A kitchen with about one empty counter to cook, that shares the same area as a living space. A couch that JJ found abandoned on a roadside sits before a crackly television, divided by a thrifted coffee table. The World Atlas was proving useful keeping the latter piece of furniture upheld on the far right leg. The area is littered with belongings, tight on space and storage. Trash takes up a lot of space too, as much as he hates to admit it. A strategically placed poster-print conceals a concerning dent in the wall that may signify rats at one time had made this trailer their home. That could explain the steal that JJ got it for.

The bathroom is where JJ’s legs take him next. Here, with the door closed, he can turn on the light. It takes three flicks of the switch and the buzz that it generates might remind a war veteran of a looming grenade. The shower is permanently discoloured and runs warm perhaps once a year, so JJ skips that stage. Instead he looks into the dirty mirror. His exhausted face greets him through blurry vision and speckles of toothpaste. A well-used toothbrush is rushed around his mouth and he spits into a dusty sink that drains frustratingly slowly. A quick piss and JJ is all washed up.

He’s careful not to turn on the light when he makes his way into the bedroom. By now, it must nearly be two in the morning. The boots come off first, followed by his shorts, socks and shirt. Clad in only boxers, JJ can make out the bed through the dark and slides under the covers. His eyes slip shut and his body tries to relax.

“It’s late.”

His eyes clench shut. Shit.

“I, uh, didn’t know you’d still be awake.”

“I was waiting up for you to come home,” comes your mumbled response. JJ looks over to you: your back facing him as he lies on his.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Hard not to when your husband’s out until two in the morning without texting or calling.”

JJ’s brows knit together. “My phone died,” he mutters.

“Convenient.”

Sighing, JJ runs a hand along his forehead and rubs tiredly at his eyes. “Look, I’m really fuckin’ tired, a’right? It’s been a long day and I just wanna–”

“You’re tired?” you hiss, turning over and sitting up. Fuck. “You’re fucking tired, JJ? Where the hell where you!?”

“Out!”

"Oh! Out! God, I don't know why I didn't think to check there!" you tunefully say.

JJ grits his teeth. The exhaustion and booze make a sticky concoction, flammable to the smallest fuse. “I don’t have to fucking give you a play by play of what I’m doing. I’m my own fucking person.”

“Okay, sure, JJ. You can finish work at five in the Goddamn afternoon and not reappear until two in the Goddamn morning without a text or call. I mean, what a fucking evil wife I am for worrying about you being - oh, I don’t know - dead in a ditch somewhere or sat in a fucking cell. I mean, I’m just bitter to the bone.”

At your spiel, JJ sits up in bed, propping himself up with his elbows. “Yeah, it’s such a fucking Goddamn surprise that I’m in no rush to come home when this is the fucking greeting I get!”

“Don’t come home at two in the morning and you won’t get this type of greeting!” you screech back.

The two of you meet eyes through the dark. Your faces are contorted in anger: brows tugged close together, lips downturned in ugly frowns, tired eyes narrowed at one another.

“Jesus Christ - what? You need me to give you a text every two minutes or some shit? Tell you where I am every two seconds?”

“Right, yeah, that’s what I said, JJ,” you argue, gesturing violently with your words. “I said, ‘send me a text every time you take a breath of air’. No, no, you’re right: I said, ‘put a tracker in your fucking penis and then maybe I know where it’s going’.”

He studies your face a moment and scoffs, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you’re try’na incinerate there but–”

“It’s insinuate - you fucking idiot - and I think you know damn well what I’m referring to,” you spit. Your voice sounds almost as bitter as the liquor JJ was drinking peacefully only an hour ago. Maybe he should have just stayed at the bar.

“Go on, then. Say it with your fucking chest, then,” JJ urges, sitting up in bed too.

You glower at him. “Pearl.”

“Oh my fuckin’...” JJ can’t help but laugh right in your face. It’s ludicrous! It only seems to worsen your rage, not that JJ could care at this moment. “You really think I’m out hooking up with someone? Is that seriously what you’re accusing me of?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” is your all-to-quick reply. “You spend all night in a bar and come home smelling like booze. Wouldn’t be surprised if you were hooking up with her, or some other whore. I mean, who else would want you?”

JJ can’t think clearly through the blinding rage. His vision goes blurry and this time, it isn’t from the alcohol. There’s the distant fear that he might crack a tooth from how tightly he’s clenching his jaw. He feels his fist close up around the sheets.

“You better think really fucking hard about what you just said to me,” he lowly says.

Your brows raise. “Is that a threat?”

JJ doesn’t reply. Decides it might be best not to. It’s hard to side with that thought process though because a smirk slowly but surely begins to sneak onto your face. There’s this viciousness in your eyes that JJ used to be unable to recognise, before El Dorado. Before life got somehow all the more real.

“Starting to sound like your dad now, huh, Maybank?”

Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. Don’t say–

JJ leans in close to your face. Can feel your heavy breath on his cheeks. See the emotions swirling like a thunderstorm in your eyes. The thin veil of tears in your waterline. He hardly recognises his own voice.

“I wish I was fucking some whore. Anything’s better than being in this bed with you.”

Your whole demeanour shifts. It’s palpable. The room is hot and suffocating. The words hang in the air and JJ hates himself for not being sure if he even wants to take them back, even if he doesn’t mean it. He just wanted you to hurt. And what an awful thing to want.

JJ hates this. He hates how the two of you know just the right buttons to press and just the right things to say to make the other furious. To break one another down. When two people fall in love, you learn everything about the other. It’s not just the intimate details - how somebody looks naked, the way they react to every touch, every kiss, their favourite song, the way they talk when they’re drunk - but also the sensitive stuff. The traumas and the skeletons and the insecurities.

“Get out,” you spit.

“Get out?” JJ laughs incredulously.

“Get out! Get the fuck out of this bed now,” you seeth. JJ doesn’t move. As if possessed, you grab at your pillow and toss it at him. “Get out!” Toss your book too.

JJ dodges them, bats them away. “You’re fucking psycho! Do you fucking see yourself!” he shouts.

“Get out! Get out, get out, get out!” you scream.

But JJ doesn’t. He should. In fact, he should go for a walk and let the two of you calm down, and then discuss it in the morning with a civilised conversation, just as you would do when you were both younger. But JJ was never the one to make the right decision. Instead, he feels himself smile. Then, he settles leisurely on his back, snuggling into the sheets like a child returning home after a long day out. His body aches from a hard day’s labour at the docks, stomach empty save for the booze. Even with his eyes closed, JJ can see your glare. It’s ice cold and sends shivers along his spine.

“Fuck you, JJ,” you mutter.

Another rustle of the sheets, the mattress dips, heavy footsteps, a slamming door, and you’re out of the room. The door shivers in the rickety frame and the noise seems to echo around the room. JJ slowly opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. He runs a hand along his jawline as he sighs, feeling the ever growing stubble that he can’t find the motivation to shave. He used to, wanting to keep up appearances for the job market, but it seemed futile now. Pointless. The feeling of satisfaction that came from winning the fight was fleeting, passing as quick as a poppers-buzz. Now, the ugly emotions seep in as JJ wallows in the lonely silence. The emotions JJ usually wards off with whiskey and beer and weed and cocaine. The guilt and the shame and the self-loathing. The sympathy and the heartache. The awful things he said to you bounce around in his head like a ping pong ball. The awful things you said to him bury deep in his heart. When he closes his eyes again, trying to mellow out his breathing and drift off, he can hear your sniffles through the door.

You never used to hide your tears from him.

Sighing, JJ clamps his hands over his face and fights the urge to scream. Why does he do this? Why does it keep happening? Why can’t you both just stop?

After thirty minutes, sleep is nowhere to be seen. The sniffling has stopped in the other room but JJ doubts you’re asleep either. Soon enough, he can’t stand the internal struggle anymore. He gets to his feet and makes his way into the living room before he can lose his nerve.

You’re lying on your side on the sofa, bundled up with a moth-nibbled blanket. JJ can’t see your face from here but he knows you’re awake. Dating you for five years meant he learnt to pick up on things like that. Walking over, he comes to the back of the sofa and reaches over to gently place his hand on your shoulder.

“You awake?” he rasps.

A pause, and then, “yes.”

“Come to bed.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve got that stupid interview tomorrow and you’re going to hate yourself for sleeping on this fucking thing in the morning.”

And I can’t fall asleep unless you’re next to me.

“You remembered I have an interview?” you mumble.

“Course,” JJ mumbles back, as if embarrassed that he remembers something his wife told him. “So come to bed.”

You don’t say anything else. JJ has a million things he could say. They’re things that he should say and that he wants to but it’s like his mouth is soldered shut. He can’t let them pass as if they might incriminate him. Oh no! She’ll know I care about her! Instead, he swallows and removes his hand, sighing as he turns to return to the bedroom.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” he says. Again, there’s no response.

Only after JJ has closed the bedroom door does he hear movement from the sofa. By the time you reappear, he’s already in bed, curled up on his side, facing the wall. You make your way to the right of the bed. There’s the thud of the blanket joining the floor before you sneak under the sheets and shuffle about until you’re settled.

The two of you don’t cuddle that night just like you don’t most nights. Neither of you apologise. Neither of you say a word. But just as JJ’s about to drift off, he feels the faintest press of your lips to the back of his bare shoulder.

When JJ wakes up in the morning, you’ve already left. His head hurts the moment he opens his eyes. Groaning, he tosses the sheets off and sits up on the edge of his bed. JJ’s aching back was a common companion to his life since El Dorado. He’d fallen funny on the adventure and seemingly fucked it up for life. Lifting heavy cargo at the docks probably didn’t help much but what choice did he have? You both needed the money desperately.

The hunt for the gold went sour. Not only did Ward Cameron steal it and use it, but Rafe stole the cross and melted the timeless relic down into chunks. At first they thought El Dorado - the timeless mystery - was a possibility. JJ believed it too. In trying to get himself and John B there, he’d got himself in pretty hot water back in Kildare. That and the eviction notice plastered to his dad’s house meant that coming back home, empty handed, meant tough living. At first, the two of you persevered. You took the loss as best you could and started out on your life together. A courthouse wedding marked the beginning of your new life, gold-less but not loveless. The Pogues threw a party at the Chateau afterwards. JJ sent out an invitation to his dad at his last known address but he never showed. You never invited yours and thankfully he stayed away. Not long after was he arrested. That was a good day. You’d sold your father’s house and used that money to buy the trailer you and JJ now resided in. It was supposed to be a temporary spot but you fell on rough times. That was almost four years ago.

The day at work dragged on like any other. After missing one shift at the local grocers, JJ was fired and had to take the next available job to let the two of you meet rent. Now he spends his hours (nearly seven days a week) fixing up old fishing rigs. It was gruelling work: lifting and slamming and hammering and loading. Even in the September air, the summer less stifling than before, JJ works up a sweat. He doesn’t have enough food to spare for things like pack dinners so he goes off an apple during his breaks. Sometimes Pope would offer JJ some food if they crossed paths but JJ didn’t want to be a charity case. He was aware how frail the two of you looked though: having about one semi-decent meal a day. Just as the day begins to wrap to a close - the amber sun low in the sky - does Billy, his employer, come over to JJ as he’s scrubbing his hands.

“Goddamn oil, swear to God,” he mutters under breath, scratching tirelessly at the skin.

“Hey, JJ, we gotta talk,” Billy sighs.

JJ looks up and wipes his hands dry on his shirt. “What’s up?”

“Look, uh…” The moment Billy clears his throat, JJ knows what’s coming. “I hate to do this, man, but I gotta let you go.”

“Dude, seriously?” JJ sighs.

“Look, it ain’t your fault, Jay. I just…The business is going under and I can’t keep all you guys on anymore. I hate to do this to you, I really do, man. I've got your last paycheck here but you, uh, don’t gotta come in on Monday,” Billy not-so-delicately tells him, digging in his pocket and retrieving a white envelope. As he hands it over, he adds, “sorry.”

“Yeah, well,” JJ sighs, taking the money, “sorry don’t pay the bills, does it?”

Before Billy can reply, JJ pockets the paycheck and sets off from the docks towards his truck. He had to trade in his bike a few years back when the two of you married: a truck seemed more practical, especially for the plans you had. The anxiety seeps in as he starts his engine and only rises the closer he gets to home like a flood caused by a running tap in a home. Rubbing at his heart, trying to alleviate the nerves, JJ takes a breath and turns up the drive. He never used to feel this way when coming home to you. In fact, it used to be the highlight of his day. Now he just prays that he can get through the door without the two of you falling into an argument.

You’re standing at the stove, steam billowing up from the pan that you’re stirring, and at the sound of JJ shoving his way through the entrance, you turn and offer a small smile. It seems like an olive branch for last night.

“Hey,” you say.

“Yo,” JJ hums, closing the door. He heads for the pile of envelopes on the cluttered breakfast bar and flicks through them. Every FINAL NOTICE makes him cringe. One is already open and he slips the letter out, but you speak before he has a chance to read a word.

“We got a week until they shut the gas off,” you tell him.

“Well, I got the solution to that.”

JJ tries his best to smile as he holds the envelope up. Gasping, you abandon the stove and grin, taking it from him and scanning over the amount. He’s ashamed by his surprise when you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him. He doesn’t have a chance to respond; you’re back at the stove, stirring dinner, within seconds.

“Yeah, well, that’s the good news,” JJ says.

Frowning, concerned, you look over your shoulder to him. “There’s bad news?”

JJ can’t meet your gaze as he tells you, “I got let go.”

“What? But I thought–”

“Yeah, me too,” JJ sighs, shaking his head. He leans against the fridge and feels it shudder at his weight. The bottles of cheap wine clink together tellingly and JJ tries not to cringe. “Anyway, how’d your interview go?”

You shake your head, looking back to the pan. “They said they’d let me know in three or so days but I don’t know…They were hard to read.”

He watches you in the artificial light, your now naturally coloured hair looking almost unrecognisable in the glow. You’d stopped dying it a couple years ago because you thought it might make finding work easier. It didn’t. Two ex-convicts, one of which had arguably the worst reputation in Kildare, who disappeared for several months at a time as teenagers. No high school degree, no college degree, no qualifications or former training, and no reputable name to fall back on. JJ contemplates coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you against him. He wants to dance with you in the kitchen to non-existent music and then cuddle up on the couch, sharing a joint and putting the world to right. But he doesn’t. Instead, JJ stays by the fridge.

“I’m sure you’ll get it.”

“Maybe. You going back to the job centre tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” JJ echos. He should. It’s hard though. It feels as though every time one of you picks yourself up and dusts yourself off, you get kicked to the dirt again. Jobs felt as unstable and unpromising as a rebound relationship. If either of you can hold down a job in the shaky economy that was the Cut on Kildare, then something in the house needs replacing, and you’re somehow still as broke as you were to start.

Neither of you bring up the argument from last night even though you should. Instead, you eat your dinner in mostly silence as the radio drones on in the background about the weather and the news. JJ’s apology lingers on his tongue but with every mouthful of his grits, it gets brushed away. It stays that way as the evening drags on. One glass of cheap red wine turns into two and three. Somewhere in the tipsy haze, the two of you find one another, naked under the sheets. His bare chest brushes against yours as he kisses desperately at your neck, thrusting into you. As his hands caress along your familiar figure, it feels as though you’re miles away. Or maybe it’s him. Maybe he isn’t the one that’s present, as if standing across the room, watching it all unfold. Your heavy breaths in his ear don’t excite him as they did before. The feeling of your walls squeezing around him doesn’t send him spiralling the same way it used to. It feels as if he’s just going through the motions. Chasing the brief wave of euphoria and distracting himself from the maelstrom of anxiety that is his mind lately. No job, no family, no future.

“Harder, JJ,” you sigh against his shoulder, your breath warm on his damp skin.

He hardly registers your words and only responds when one of your hands coaxes his hips deeper. Something about the new angle hits JJ just right. His eyes slip shut, a groan falling past his lips as he shudders against your body. He comes rather quickly: the white hot pleasure fast as it passes through him. He lingers inside of you a moment. You lay stone still underneath him.

“Did you just come?” you ask.

“Yeah, I just came,” JJ sighs, pulling out of you. Sighing, chest heaving, he flops onto his back beside you. He can feel your stare the same way he did last night. As if trying to escape it, his eyes slip shut.

“Are you fucking serious, JJ?”

“You know your body better anyway. Go to town,” JJ mumbles. He’s aware of how douchey he sounds but he feels a thousand miles away. He’d only disappoint you anyway. It feels like all he does is disappoint you.

“Fuck you,” you mutter, climbing out of bed and heading presumably to the bathroom to piss. The door slams the same as it did last night. More arguments and JJ will have to replace the hinges. Just another thing in the house that’ll be added to the list of repairs, with the thing at the top being your relationship. As JJ works through the list in his mind, he drifts off to sleep. He isn’t sure if you ever came back to bed. You’re gone when he wakes up in the morning.

“I don’t understand man,” John B says. “Why don’t you two just get a divorce?”

JJ’s head snaps to face his best friend. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying–”

“--John B–”

“--You guys are miserable,” he finishes, not letting JJ cut him off. Groaning, JJ shakes his head and paces away. “It’s not like divorce is frowned upon in your family! Your parents did it, hers did it - hell, mine did it too!”

“I don’t wanna divorce her,” JJ says, turning around. He takes his cap from his head and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s damp with sweat from the humid heat of the day. He’d been at his lifelong best friend’s house since eight in the morning, helping to clear up the yard and fix the jetty. Whilst unemployed, JJ may as well keep himself busy. As always, the conversation had veered into relationship territory: John B and Sarah, and JJ and you. The fight was two weeks in the past. You hadn’t let JJ have sex with you since. JJ wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. It just made him feel more confused and disconnected. He didn’t like being the reason you were upset.

“There’s no shame in it,” John B assures. “You guys were a good fit when we were teenagers but now you’ve grown up and life’s gotten hard. That’s okay.”

“She’s it for me, JB,” JJ states. He wanders over and lovingly pats him on the back, making his way to the cooler for another beer. “I ain’t giving up on us.”

“Cool. So, you’ll just stay stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life then. Awesome,” comes John B’s sardonic response.

“It’s not loveless. It’s just…going through a rough patch.”

“A two year long rough patch?”

“It’s not as simple as ‘divorce her’,” JJ sighs. The crisp crack of the beer sounds like heaven’s gates opening. “She’s the girl of my literal childhood dreams. And things have been hard for her too. We don’t mean to fight, we just…do.”

“Denial is a six-letter word my friend. You know what else is?”

“Don’t say it–”

“Trauma.”

“JB–”

“I get it! Your dad was shitty and you’re trying to break the cycle! But maybe you can’t! Maybe there isn’t a cycle! Maybe that’s just life!”

“Look, I don’t therapise you so how about you don’t therapise me,” JJ suggests. He tosses a beer to the brown haired man. His face isn’t all that different from when they were young. The crows feet around his eyes are deeper set, as are the laughter and frown lines along his forehead. The stubble on his beard challenges JJ’s. “I’m not gonna give up on us. We just need to reconnect. I feel like we’re always at odds.”

Sighing, John B relents. He clinks his can against JJ’s in an informal cheers. “Well, I hope you’re right and you guys can figure it out. I just want you happy, man.”

Happy. JJ hardly knew the meaning of the word these days.

He lingers at John B’s house until sunset, when Sarah returns from the hospital. She’d managed to get a spot on a nursing course and was blazing through it. She’d tried to get both you and JJ employed there too but the criminal check killed any chance. She offers for JJ to stay for dinner but he declines, saying that he should head home. The walk back is filled with unnecessary diversions. He goes to the pier where he saw you jump as a kid. He goes by the grocery store that the two of you used to shoplift beers from. He wanders along the coastline where you used to skinny dip in the dead of night. Somehow, JJ ends up outside what used to be his home. Nobody had bought it after the bank repossessed it. Sitting in dilapidation, nature reclaims the isolated structure. It’s barely recognisable to JJ. Seeing it in such a way makes JJ question if his childhood was even real. The traumatic memories feel as though they don’t fit well on this canvas: it’s too peaceful and serene. He leans down and grabs a large rock from the floor and hurls it towards one of the windows. It shatters through the glass and thuds as it lands on the floorboards inside. A small smile pushes onto JJ’s ageing face. That’s better. He continues to walk home.

It’s pitch black outside by the time JJ makes it back. He wonders if you might have gone to bed as he walks up the porch steps, dodging the broken one, reminding himself to fix it. The house is cast in a warm glow from the living room floor lamp when JJ walks in. The kitchen has been cleaned up and for once seems almost homely. His eyes are immediately drawn to your frame, sat crossed legged on the sofa. A large shoebox sits on the coffee table, the lid off, and a stack of old VHS tapes sit in a pile to its right. There’s a bottle of open red wine and a half filled glass too. You’re looking down at something.

“Hey,” he says, closing the door behind him.

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing?”

You finally look up. You’d put your nose ring back in and it shines under the gentle glare of the lamp. A smile blesses your features. “I was going through the closet to see if I could sell some old clothes and found the picture box. Remember how we were gonna hang some up when we first moved here? I think we still should.”

JJ grabs a glass for himself and joins you on the sofa. You smell like soap and shea butter. He pours himself a glass of wine.

“Look,” you say, holding the picture out for him to see. He places down in his glass on the table and takes the photo from you. JJ chuckles quietly under breath. It’s of John B and JJ when they were younger; they sit on their surfboards, legs submerged in the water, hair damp, smiles brimming and big. “Cute, huh?”

“Very cute,” JJ agrees. He places it amongst the pile of scattered pictures strewn across the table and picks another out. It’s of Kiara, pulling a stupid face as she lounges outside the Chateau. Sarah throwing up peace signs. A candid of Pope and John B playing cards one afternoon. You, dangling upside down from the slats of the jetty, lilac hair barely scraping the surface of the water.

“I like this one.”

JJ leans into you to see the picture in your hands. He smiles at the sight. One of the Pogues must have taken it. You both look about eighteen. You’re sat on one of the deckchairs that resided outside of the Chateau, talking vivaciously, hands gesturing wildly and smiling wide. JJ’s just staring at you, a lovesick smile on his young face, chin resting on his fist. For a while, the two of you sit in the drip-drip-drip of the kitchen sink, staring at the picture as if in a trance.

“You used to adore me,” you whisper.

JJ’s brows knit together. He looks down at you. “I still do.”

Your laugh is sad. Your eyes remained trained on the moment frozen in time. “Not like you used to. Not like before.”

“Before what?” JJ mumbles, heart suddenly heavy.

You look up and meet his gaze. Whatever emotion is on your face makes JJ want to cry. “You know what.”

He shakes his head, his lips quivering. “That’s not true.”

“Everything changed after that.”

“It’s not true,” he says again. His hand slips up, cupping your cheek, and his body sings when you lean into his hold. “That weren’t your fault. It never was and never will be.”

“But would you still have married me,” you begin to ask, voice turning thick as the tears start to build, “if you knew? If I knew before.”

“Yes,” JJ swiftly answers.

“JJ–”

“--You’re it for me,” he says. His forehead gently falls forward, resting against yours, needing to be closer. “Girl of my dreams.”

“Even if…” You take in a shaky breath, trying desperately not to cry. “Even if I can’t give you a family.”

“You are my family. I got everything I need right here.”

Something between a sob and laugh shakes your body. You sniff and nod fervently against him. JJ sweeps his calloused finger across your cheek. He feels the warmth that radiates from your skin. Inhales the soothing smell that is you. Counts the smattering of blemishes and freckles and scars that decorate your skin like cracks in an antique painting. They don’t take from your beauty - they just speak to the value.

“I’m sorry,” he hears himself say.

It’s your turn to frown now. Opening your eyes, they shimmer with unshed tears. “What’d you mean?”

“I’m so sorry I let you marry me,” he says in brutal honesty. “This ain’t the life you deserve.”

“JJ–”

“You deserve so much more than this. More than all this scrimping and saving. You deserve your house. Your pastel blue house, with those white shutters and the porch - that damn wrap around porch - and your cats and dogs.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. Your own hands come up, cradling his face just as he has your own, and you smile dotingly up at him. For the first time in months, JJ feels as though he recognises you. JJ feels as though he recognises himself.

“I don’t need all that, JJ,” you tell him. “That’s just stuff. Things. You said it best: I have everything I’ve ever needed right here.”

“You don’t gotta say that,” JJ gently argues. “This trailer isn’t a house, baby.”

“No, it ain’t,” you agree. “It’s a home. It’s our home.”

“Baby,” JJ sighs. His eyes slip shut, unable to look at you, feeling nothing less than a failure.

“You remember our wedding day?” you ask him. JJ can’t help but snort.

“Course I do.”

“Remember our vows?”

His lips can’t help but upturn as he follows your train of thought. He was always good at following your mind.

“For richer–”

“--for poor,” JJ finishes.

The caress of your finger along his jawline has JJ close to tears.

“We’re gonna be okay,” you tell him softly. “We're gonna get through all this. It’s just God’s test, that's all, and we’re gonna pass it, and it’ll be okay again. I promise.”

JJ manages to open his eyes and face you. You’re smiling up at him, gazing as if he was the entire solar system laid before you, and the anxiety slips away as suddenly as winter changes to spring.

“My good looking boy,” you whisper.

JJ’s never been good with his words. But sometimes words aren’t needed.

His lips find yours like a bird migrating home. You immediately hold him close to you, tilting his face with yours to deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours. The taste of red wine is strangely erotic and it spurs JJ on. He sighs against you, pushing deeper as if to consume you. Your fingers slip into his hair; nails teasing at his scalp, combing through the sea salt treated strands. JJ’s hands sink away from your face, tracing along your arms, down to your waist. You sink into the cushions of the sofa on your back as JJ climbs atop. His lips map across your cheeks, along your jaw, find home on your neck and collarbones.

“I missed you so much,” he confesses in a breath against your sensitive skin.

The removal of clothes is like a ritual: each piece commemorated with kisses and love bites and praises. Your hands explore one another’s naked bodies as if it were your first time. Like a blind man regaining sight, JJ is in awe of your effortless beauty. The way your back arches at the trace of his finger along your sternum, down to your weeping cunt. You clench helplessly around his digits as he fingers you, slow and sensual, savouring every moan and whine.

“Missed you so fucking much, baby,” JJ sighs against your thigh. Presses kisses against the stretch mark decorated skin, like watering tree roots. “So fucking pretty.”

“JayJ,” you croon, eyes clenched shut, a balled up fist rubbing helplessly at your forehead.

His tongue laps at your clit, suckles at the wet, driven by the feel of your fingers knotting in his hair. You climax with a gasp, soaking his fingers and lips, overstimulated until you’re gently pushing him away and pulling him up to you. He’s painfully hard as he kisses you. When your hand softly takes hold of him, he sighs against your mouth.

“I missed you,” you tell him between kisses. Your hand rubs at him in long, meaningful strokes, thumb occasionally teasing over the tip. JJ groans against your chest, eyes pressed shut, trying to revel in the feeling of having you so close, having you jacking him off, whilst trying desperately not to come. But you know him better than anybody else. You know when to guide him to your entrance, coating him in your slick. JJ kisses at your nipple as he sinks into you. He doesn’t feel miles away this time as he fucks you into the sofa. Doesn’t feel like he’s stranded across the room as he makes love to you for the first time in months, maybe even years.

Your begs and pleas and praises are like words from the lord being spoken into JJ’s ears in your breathy whimpers. Harder, deeper, feels so fuckin’ good, faster. JJ’s no better, slurring anything that slips into his mind as he sinks in and out of you. So fuckin’ wet, prettiest fuckin’ pussy in the world, tell me how bad you need it. His hand holds an almost mean grip on your hip whilst his other finds your left. JJ intertwines your fingers as the two of you chase your highs, the digits slick with sweat, slipping in the hold but never letting go.

"I'm s'close," you whine, hooking your legs over his hips, driving him deeper.

"Fuck, feels so fuckin' good," JJ grunts, ploughing into you. "So fuckin' good for me."

"Please, JJ," you gasp. You're so close. JJ fucks you hard and fast. "Please, please, please..."

You come first, gasping and panting against JJ’s ear, and he follows, moaning desperately against your clammy skin. His eyes slip shut as he rests atop of you.

JJ blinks awake, somewhat disorientated. For the first time in forever, his aching back isn’t the first thing he registers. Instead, it’s the steady rise and fall of the warm body underneath him. He slowly lifts his head to find you, sleeping soundly, still naked. He’s soft inside of you and gently slips out with a small shudder. You stir only slightly but soon drift back off to sleep. JJ gets up carefully so as to not disturb your slumber. The bathroom doesn’t feel as grimy when he goes inside to pee, and his face looks younger, lighter, refreshed, when he checks the mirror as he washes his hands. After tugging on a pair of boxers and an old t-shirt, he returns to the living room. You’ve curled up on your side, snoring quietly, and JJ smiles. How could he forget how beautiful you are? He lays a blanket over your body and plants a kiss to your hair. Then, he begins to tidy away some of the pictures. As you requested, he leaves out some that he thinks you might like to be framed, one of which is from your wedding day: the two of you laughing as you smush cake against one another’s mouths. His eyes fall on the tapes and he picks them up, flicking through them. He takes pause at one. Luke and Marie’s Wedding Tape. He stares at it like the box of Jumangi, both terrified and enticed.

JJ powers up the TV, ensuring it’s on silent, and turns on the old tape player. By some miracle, it still works. He slips the tape in and swallows the lump in his throat, and sits on the sofa beside where your head rests. You’re still dead to the world, snuggled up cosy in your blanket cocoon, and JJ’s weirdly grateful for your company as the tape kicks to life. It’s grainy at first, the picture wobbly, but soon enough the image comes to life. His dad who JJ hasn’t seen in years stands young and stupid at the altar. His mother who JJ wouldn’t know if she passed him in the street stands young and forgiving opposite. They’re speaking soundless words, smiling. JJ isn’t aware that he’s started crying until a teardrop lands on his hand. He wipes his cheek absently, eyes fixated on the screen. He watches as they dance: giggling, graceful, giddy. Just as you were the day JJ laid his eyes on you.

Maybe John B was right. Maybe JJ did want to break the pattern. It wasn't either of your faults that you both reacted to adversity the way you did. Years of built-up anger and rage and pain with nowhere to go but within was like a boiling over crockpot of disaster. Two borderline-abandoned, abused teenagers married at eighteen? Of course you didn't have the blueprint for how to be a functional couple. Neither of you knew the definition of compromise, or backing down, or making peace. All you knew was pain and betrayal and self-defence. But that could change. It would take time and patience, but it could. JJ wanted it to. He was sick of working against you. You were a team before and you would be a team again. JJ never wanted to go to war against you, not when you were the best soldier on his team. JJ had always feared love because he feared what it would make him. Would he be like his father or his mother: resent or retreat?

As JJ's eyes sweep down to your sleeping self, he decides what he'll be. He'll be neither. He'll be himself. He'll be resilient.

One of JJ's hands raises and his fingers lovingly stroke at your hair. You don’t wake, just shift a little, and a barely there smile slinks onto your face.

“Don’t give up on me, baby,” JJ mumbles, petting the strands of your ever changing hair. His good looking girl. “These times are hard and they’re makin’ us go crazy, but don’t give up on me. Cause I meant every word.”

For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish…

"Til' death do us part."

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yornayyy · 5 months ago

Text

cherry, eren jaeger

—synopsis. you never really learned how to properly cope with your dad’s passing so you tend to shut everyone out

—chapter 7 ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚content!: au-high school, teenage romance, black reader, cheesy romance, depressive episodes, restrictive behavior, talk of loss of family member

previous ౨ৎ next ౨ৎ

eren practically jumped when he saw you'd posted new pictures of yourself from mikasa's party.

these pictures were some you and lana took at the party on a digital camera and then ones he figured you took in lana's car.

he shamelessly saved the thread of photos. it was 3 am now and he was laying bad thinking about what happened just five hours ago. he couldn't believe you'd trusted him enough to have your first sexual experience. as much as he told you not to worry about the hard boner in his pants, he was very worried about it.

it was insane how much of an effect you had on him. with your beautiful dark brown hair, your eyes, your lips, your somehow perfect body, the way you danced, the way you dressed, the way you carried yourself in general. you were so tantalizing.

for the past two months, all eren's thoughts had to do with you. his mind was running wild knowing that just a few hours ago he had you in his mouth. he pulled out his phone to text you.

eren 🎀: hey, you awake?

y/n 🫦🫦: yeah what's up? can't sleep?

eren chuckled at your contact name, forgetting he'd put those emojis next to your name as a joke.

eren 🎀: no, i'm hungry

and i miss you

y/n 🫦🫦: aw that's cute 😉

i guess i miss you too

eren 🎀: 😒

y/n 🫦🫦: ☺️

eren 🎀: do you wanna go get something to eat? i think the burger place is still open

y/n 🫦🫦: it's 2 am...

eren 🎀: so?

y/n 🫦🫦: so...i'm in bed lmao

what do you want me to do, sneak out?

eren 🎀: 👀

y/n 🫦🫦: ugh fine lemme put some clothes on

eren 🎀: oh? 👀

lmao okay, i'll be on my way

you - as quietly as you could - rolled out of your bed. you put on a pair of oversized grey sweatpants on, they were your dad's. you put on a tank top and threw on a zip up sweater. your pants draped over your brown slippers.

eren texted you that he was outside, and you were a little nervous. not just because he'd be seeing your bare face for the first time, but because his face was just buried inside you four hours ago.

you opened your window, stepping onto the roof before climbing down the pillar that held up your porch. you walked around to the front of your house where you saw eren waiting in his car. you walked up to the passenger seat and sat yourself down.

"hey" you smiled, putting on your seatbelt. "it's so cold out tonight" you were hoping eren couldn't tell that your nipples were standing at attention from the goosebumps on your body.

eren looked at you for a moment, you weren't wearing makeup he realized. you still looked gorgeous though, face bright and beautiful even at two am without makeup on. "hey princess" he reached over to kiss your cheek.

"burgers at two am is kind of insane...but i'll just get some of their cheesy fries" you reached over to hook up your phone to eren's aux, a custom you've gotten used to ever time you were in his car. eren payed attention to the music you played and added a few songs to his own playlists, they reminded him of you.

you pulled your legs up to sit criss crossed in the seat and eren rest his hand on your thigh, while the other held the steering wheel. you watched him through the side of your eye, the way his jawline always stayed on sharp, the way the street lights illuminated his face - he looked so beautiful.

you sneakily opened your phone camera to take a picture of him. "i saw that" he smirked, leaning over to kiss you again when he was at a red light.

he turned into the drive thru to order a burger and soda while you ordered cheese fries and a small lemonade.

he pulled into the parking lot so you guys could eat there. you fell into conversation about your lives, until the conversation led to what happened last night.

"okay wait, so i'm the first person to ever do anything with you?" he took a bite of his burger. "yeah...i mean i've had my first kiss before and he like touched my boobs, but like that was it" you explained.

"can i ask who it was?" "it was marco..." you told him. "are you for real?" eren chuckled. "stop what's wrong with marco" you bumped his arm. "i thought you guys were friends?" he asked you. "we are, we joke about it sometimes. it was when we were like fifteen" you giggled.

"well, was it good?" he smirked. "yeah, but i don't really have a frame of reference. maybe i should do it with someone else and then we'd know for sure" you teased. "oh don't even joke" eren rolled his eyes. you scoffed. "says the boy who hasn't even asked me out yet"

eren smiled as he thought it over "okay, y/n will you please go out with me. i'll treat you somewhere real nice" he held your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss over your knuckles. "when?" you grinned. "not this weekend because it's senior night and then i have a tournament....so maybe next weekend." you nod your head.

ପ

eren asked if you could show up to his basketball game friday night, so you did.

you and lana walked in a little late and sat about half way down the bleachers. "do you even understand basketball?" lana asked you. "no but let's just cheer when everyone else does" you smiled.

eren looked up at the bleachers for a second, hoping to see you - smiling when he did. you waved at him and he did the same before turning to focus on his game again.

after another half hour, and eren getting into a heated argument - almost altercation - with a kid on the other team, the game was done and your school had won. you watched as eren joined his teammates in jumping around, you thought it was adorable.

all the seniors on the team began taking pictures together and with their families. lana dragged you down the bleachers so she could meet connie.

eren came up behind you and hugged you from the back. "did you see me make the winning shot?" he crossed his arms. "i sure did" you smiled as he bent down to kiss your cheek.

"ohhhh did you guys finally figure things out?" carla watched the interaction. "we are. i'm taking her out next weekend" he threw his arm around you to pull you in close and you playfully rolled your eyes.

"glad to see you took some initiative" carla squeezed eren's cheek. "not even that. i had to remind him we still haven't gone out yet" you laughed to which carla scoffed.

you woke up the next thursday morning with the weight of the world on your shoulders. every year for the past four - now five - years, you'd been dreading this day. today was the anniversary of your dad's passing.

it broke your heart all over again year after year. you would wake up, see the date, and immediately start crying until an unbearable headache came along. then, you would text your mom and tell her, not ask, that you weren't going to school that day.

then you would go back to sleep until three in the afternoon, skip brushing your teeth or washing your face, go downstairs and grab every snack you saw and absolutely down them. then you would go back to your room and cry because now you just felt disgusting and eating your feelings didn't change the fact that he was gone.

you would put on a movie, that you ultimately ignored and then go back to sleep. it felt like you were stuck in a loop that you refused to get out of. your mom offered therapy and you shut it down, you promised her you were fine and this was just how you coped. so what if one day out of the year your mental went to absolute shit.

except it was never just that one day, it took at least three days to snap out of your funk and remember you have a life to create and be a part of. you would shut everyone out, not bothering to answer texts, and if you did they were one word responses.

you felt awful when you saw eren texting you calling you about your date the saturday after. but you just couldn't bring yourself to go. you slept through the entire saturday and told your sister to specifically tell him 'y/n think it's best if the two of you left each other alone'.

you heard when the doorbell rung and your mom answered it. you knew it was eren who was at the door when two minutes later, you got a text from him.

eren: wait did i do something wrong?

i thought we had plans tonight??

you haven't been at school the last two days either? did something happen?

are you doing okay? :(

you never bothered to answer his questions, just responding with a simple 'sorry' and then nothing after that. you felt evil for it but maybe it was for the best. you didn't wanna let anyone in just for them to get hurt.

after your depressive episode over the weekend and skipping out on your date, eren came up to your locker on monday.

"hey" you jumped, not expecting him to be there. eren took a second to note your appearance. you were a lot more dressed down than usual but most importantly, your eyes just looked melancholic.

"hi" you practically buried your face in your locker so you didn't have to look at him.

"um are you okay? you didn't really answer my texts this weekend" he asked you. "i'm fine" you shrugged. "are you sure? did something come up?" he pushed. "i said i'm fine, seriously. i'm sorry about saturday but..." you just sighed, not finishing your sentence.

"but what?" he furrowed an eyebrow. "but i don't know maybe we should just like i don't know stop this for a while. i've got a lot of shit to focus on" you unpacked your backpack.

"where's this all coming from? did i do something wrong?" he seemed genuinely concerned but you disregarded it. "oh my god it's not about you" you scoffed. "so then what's it about? this is coming out of no where bro. something had to have happened" he crossed his arms.

"you barely know me, why do you care? it's not like we're dating" you mumbled. "i care because i fucking care about you. and that last part could've been different if you actually cared to show up on saturday"

you scoffed, closing your locker. "whatever"

"y/n just tell me what's wrong." he held your wrist. "i already did. i need to focus on myself right now. i don't need distractions" you continued. "plus i don't want you getting hurt" you shrugged. "don't you think it's a little late for that? that shit you pulled on saturday wasn't exactly highlight of my week" eren scoffed.

"okay well what do you want from me??" you rolled your eyes. "i want you to be fucking honest and stop being so weird. what happened that you need to be acting like this" by now a few people were looking over at you.

you sighed "why don't we just stop, whatever this is, now." "are you serious?" he shook his head with a disbelieving smile on his face"oh my fucking god stop acting like you don't have other bitches lined up. why don't you go find that tiny blonde bitch and get back together with her"

"maybe i will. at least i'd know what i'd be getting into. instead of with someone who fucking switches up one day!" he raised his voice, it was more stern now. "whatever eren, you're not about to fucking embarrass me in the halls like you embarrassed yourself and historia last year. i'm gonna be late for class. goodbye" you walked away.

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yornayyy · 6 months ago

Note

male squirting.... Satoru being overstimulated to the brink of tears ? 😵‍💫♡

contains: fem reader, kiinnndaaaa sub gojo :3, whiny gojo, hand jobs, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, praise, so much dirty talk, dacraphillia, lots of talk of cum

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You were scrolling through Twitter and came across a video of a man tied to a chair, naked. A pair of hands that were neatly manicured was jerking him off rapidly, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of his cock. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen on twitter before, but twenty seconds later you would see something new. The woman was jerking him after his orgasm, the man whining and crying, his body trying to jerk away from her touch as he was pushed into overstimulation.

He started pleading with her to slow down, saying something felt weird, and that's when it happened, he squirted. It looked so intense, his body trembling and hunching over as he screamed through another forced orgasm. You squeezed your thighs together feeling yourself grow aroused between your legs, a vivid image popping into your head of trying this with Satoru. You replayed the video over a couple times, pretending the faceless pale man in the chair was your boyfriend, even though they shared no resemblance to one another.

You were sure Satoru would be up to trying something like this, the two of you had a very adventurous sex life and were always sharing new ideas with the other on fun things you could do in the bedroom, and this looked very fun. You quickly copied the link and switched to messages, sending it to your boyfriend who was currently at work. You hoped he wouldn't see your message until he had a break, but you had sent him worse things during worse moments, so it would be fine.

Moments after you had sent the video to Satoru, your phone lit up with his name big and bold on the screen, vibrating in your hand. "Satoru? Why are you calling me at work?" You asked, pressing your phone to your ear. "Tell me you want to do that to me, thats why you sent me that right?" He asked rushed, excitement laced in his tone. From the backround noise from Gojo's end of the call of birds chirping and leaves rusting through the trees with no voices besides his to be heard, you guessed he was supervising sparing and had stepped away.

"I dont think I need to ask if you want to try it then~" You laughed into the receiver. Gojo was currently leaning his head back against a building of Jujutsu high, his eyes scrunched shut as he imagined your hands on him, overstimulating him like the woman had done in the video. "Are you kidding? I'm all over that~" He cracked his eyes open, a smile gracing his features. "My pretty girlfriend making me squirt? didn't even know that was possible, I've been missing out." He sighed.

"Wanna give it a go tonight then? Wouldn't want you to miss out any longer." You said teasingly, biting your lip as you pressed your thighs together once more. "Why wait that long? I get off in an hour, I'll see you and your pretty hands then~" Gojo said singsong like into the phone. The two of you said your goodbyes before you ended the call, your fingers taking you back to the video so you could watch it over and over again, picking up some techniques the woman used that you could use on Satoru."

"She used a lot of lube so.. this is gonna get messy." You said, popping open the lid to the lube bottle you kept on your side table. Gojo was laid down on the bed, a towel under his ass as you sat on his thighs, one hand stroking his cute leaking cock, while your other squeezed the plastic bottle, watching the slippery substance drip down onto his cock in thick strands.

Gojo hissed when the cold lubricant came into contact with his dick, keeping his eyes on your slender hands wrapping around him. "If you make me squirt it's gonna get a hell of a lot messier too~" Gojo chimed in, biting his lip when you used one of your hands to wrap around his tip, rolling it around in circular motions in your palm, the other slowly jerking the rest of his massive length. "You will," you assured him, your eyes sliding up to make contact with his.

"Gotta say the safeword If it gets too much, kay Toru?" You asked, making sure he acknowledged your words before things got too intense. "Yeah yeah, F-fuuuck, I won't though~ I can take it." He said confidently, flashing you a cocky smile as you slowly and steadily jerked him off.

"Fuck.." Gojo murmured under his breath, his eyes dropping as he watched you work slowly on his dick, the copious amount of lube you used creating a loud and vulgar slick noise every time your hands moved on him. "It's so wet," Gojo groaned. You could feel his thighs flexing under your ass as he started getting into it. "Yeah? Does it feel good?" You asked, picking up the speed of both your hands a bit. "Yeah.. fuck- feels like I'm inside you." Gojo groaned, his jaw falling open and his breath picking up as he watched you jerk him off, both of your hands now screwing down the length of his cock together, making sure to squeeze at the tip.

"I feel this wet?" You almost laughed, taking note of how the lube coated his balls and was steadily dripping down the insides of his thighs. "You're wetter." He smirked back, his smile quickly fading when you paused one of your hands, opting to rub right under the head of his cock while the other kept jerking him off. You bit your lip, noticing how his eyes were rolling back in his head. "Feel good right here, Toru?" You asked, pressing your thumb into his frenulum with more force, a shaky whimper leaving his lips.

"So fucking good," Satoru praised, pulling his hip between his teeth. You slid the pad of your thumb from his frenulum to the slit on his tip in a smooth rhythm, up and down, up and down, making Satoru groan through clenched teeth. "Oh fuck- keep fucking doing that- sh-it." Gojo was humping his hips into your fist, chasing the stimulation, making your body bounce slightly on top of his thighs. "Satoru quit moving, let me do all the work." You spoke softly, giving his shaft harsh strokes that made him whine.

"Okay- okay, baby- just please don't stop, please." He replied with an aroused smile plastered on his face. You giggled at his desperation, continuing your ministrations on his cock so he didn't grow any needier. "I won't Toru, I got you~" you assured. His head flopped back onto the pillows with a groan when you started stroking him with both hands once again, rotating your hands up and down the length of his cock, making the coil in his tummy rapidly tighten itself up.

"Fuck- fuck me baby fuck-" Satoru whined through his teeth, the words strung together as he tipped his head down, nodding as you jerked his cock quick and rough, making his body wiggle around on the sheets. "You like that? Like when I jerk you off like this?" You cooed, biting your lip as you darted your eyes back and forth between his flushed cock and his pretty face scrunched up in pleasure.

Your words went straight to his cock, if you weren't gripping him so hard you might've been able to feel how hard he twitched in your hands. "God I fucking love it, baby, makin' me feel so g-good." Gojo groaned through his teeth. He really wanted to keep watching you but he physically could not keep his head up anymore. He let his head fall back into the pillows once more, screwing his eyes shut as he let you work him up to his high. "Shit.. I feel it coming pretty girl.." Your boyfriend let you know, his breathing picking up when he felt his balls start to tighten, the warmth in his belly growing warmer and warmer, all telltale signs of his orgasm approaching.

"You got this baby, gonna fuck you through it and you're gonna take what I give you like a good boy, isn't that right?" You spoke sweetly, a teasing tilt to your voice as you hyped him up. He nodded his head against the pillows, keeping his eyes shut, face still screwed in pleasure, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to brace himself for what was to come. "Gonna take it, 'm your good boy, baby~" Satoru responded, trying to smile through his arousal.

You felt his warm cock pulse strongly against your fingers at the same time his breathing stilled, right before the first rope of his cum shot out of his dick and splattered onto his abdomen. Gojo groaned loudly through his teeth, his body jerking inwards at every wave of his orgasm. "Yeah~ Good boy, just like that, keep cumming for me Toru~" You praised, jerking your hands rapidly over his dick, coating your fingers and his cock in his cum, mixing with the lube already smothered on his cock.

"Shit- s-shit- nnghhh-" Gojo groaned through his orgasm, his hips jerking up into your hand as he came. You continued to stroke him through the aftershocks of his high, which was bearable for the first four seconds before he started fighting the pleasure you were giving him. Whines and gasps were being pulled from his lips when you didn't slow down your hands on his cock, keeping up the mean rough pace on his length, simultaneously twisting your palm over his too-sensitive cockhead.

His hips jerked back, into the sheets as he tried to excape your ruthless hands, his chin shot down to his chest as he watched you sit on top of him, lip pulled between your teeth as you tried to work him through his overstimulation. "Ffffffuck!" He finally vocalized, his entire body thrashing and twitching agaisnt the sheets, knees trying to curl upwards, thighs pressing together, anything to excape the overbearing pleasure that wouldn't stop coming.

"You're doing so good baby, so good, don't fight it." You talked him through it, trying to get his overwhelmed brain to slow down. "Oh-ohmygod it's too much-" He cried, his hands heaving the pillows he was gripping next to his head and slapping down on your thighs, digging his nails into the skin there. You swear you saw tears forming in his eyes before he screwed them shut once more, his jaw falling slack as he turned his head back and forth against the pillows, he looked so hot like this.

"You wanna squirt don't you baby? I thought you could take it, must not want it that bad." You teased, trying a different method to instill the confidence in him that he needed in this moment to get through this. "N-no I want it- wanna- wanna squirt-" He whined, his breathing starting to even out, his overstimulation must be fizzling out. "That's right, that's my good boy Toru." You smirked proudly down at him, finally noticing your own arousal that was throbbing between your legs.

"Goddd~ l-love when you call me that~" He giggled, his eyes cracking open as he tilted his head to the side so he could see you, keeping his head pressed into the pillows. You giggled before rubbing your thumb against his frenulum again. His breath hitched, his nails digging into your thigh right before cum shot out of his cock again, weaker this time. The ropes of his seed barely made it to his abdomen, most of it coating your fingers and easing the slide over his cock, making it impossibly more slippery.

"You really like it right here, huh?" You asked, continuing to massage the spot in little circles as you worked his seed out of his shaft. Gojo's body jerked forward, his legs shaking with the intensity of his second orgasm so soon after the first. He stayed silent, his mouth agape as he let you work him through his high. He came down with a gasp, greedily swallowing air into his lungs, panting when he was once again granted the short intermission before his cock was assaulted with your hands overstimulating him.

This time, you did see the tears fall down his cheeks when you didn't stop. The squelches emitting from his cock were sooo loud, so lewd, you guaranteed if you pulled your panties down right now, they would be flooded. The lube and cum created such a mess on your fingers as you rapidly stroked over him, your hand looking like a blur from how fast your pace was. One of Gojo's hands gripped your wrist harshly, almost stopping the movements completely. Good thing you had another hand, you used it to rotate over his tip, slightly punishing him for trying to stop you.

"Baby s-stop- stop I c-cant I c-cant do it-" Gojo cried, fat tears falling over his flushed cheeks, wetting the hair on the side of his face. He didn't say the safeword, but he sounded so desperate so you slowed your hand ever so slightly before you spoke, "This is gonna be the one Toru, just one more and you're gonna squirt for me, promise." You encouraged, nodding at him when he cracked his lids open, teary eyes locking onto yours. "Ohhhhmygod I don't know If- Ugh-" He tried protesting, raking his nails into your thighs.

"You can do it, you're so close baby, so close, it's gonna feel so fucking good." His hand had loosened his grip on your wrist, his head weakly nodding at your words. "I- I think I'm gonna cum already-" His words cut off with a whine, his chest heaving as he took sharp breaths into his lungs, high-pitched wines spilling from his lips as he felt his third orgasm come on. This time it felt a little different, it felt deeper, stronger, he couldn't really explain it, all he could do was take the painful pleasure, letting your hands milk him dry as his tired body tried its best to relax against the sheets.

The towel under his ass was already soaked with cum and lube, and you figured it was about to get a whole lot wetter, you weren't sure why you bothered putting a towel down in the first place.

Gojo started leaking under your thumb, a substance thinner than his cum spurting out of his cock in little amounts. "Baby- baby fuck- It- I cant- I cant-" He wined, losing his composure when he felt it creep over him. This new sensation was taking over his whole body, everything from the tips of his toes to his ears felt flushed, he felt like he was suffocating with how hard it was to take a good breath into his lungs, the feeling making him hyperventilate.

"You can, I got you, baby, I'm right here, let it out, squirt for me Toru~" You encouraged, jerking him off with more vigor, continuing to rub your thumb over his frenulum and flushed tip, steadily leaking the liquid. His thighs rapidly clenched under yours, his chin dropping to his chest to watch his dick, his intense eyes waiting to see something miraculous happen right when his orgasm hit. And fuck did something happen.

A clear liquid sprayed out of his cock, the stream coming out stuttered as you jerked him through it, moaning with him. "Oh my god you're doing it baby, good fucking job, fucking give it to me Toru~" You groaned, slamming your hands down on the length of his cock, fucking his orgasm out of him. He was being so loud, you were lucky your neighbors lived a good distance away, or they might call the cops because it seriously sounded like someone was being tortured, and in a way, he was.

His body shook and trembled, even after you slowed your hands on him. Tears streamed down his bright red face as his eyes fought to stay forward in their sockets, his hands weakly twitching against your thighs, nails digging into the skin. You leaned forward, wiping your hands off on the bed sheets before you took his teary face in your hands, pressing kisses to his open mouth, sweaty forehead, blushed nose, anywhere your lips could touch.

"Good boy Toru, good fucking boy." You giggled, wiping his tear-soaked hair away from his face as his glossy eyes made eye contact with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist. "How did that feel? Was it everything you thought it would be?" You giggled. His body twitched under you, your boyfriend's chest still heaving up and down rapidly. "Better, I love you, l-love you." He stuttered, closing his eyes as you pressed kisses to his tearstain cheeks and eyelids.

"C-couldn't have done that without you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing your weight onto him, his sticky cock sticking to your clothes in the process, but you would worry about that later, Satoru needed your utmost attention to calm down right now. "I love you too, my amazing boy~" You praised, letting him pull you tighter, your head digging into his neck as you pressed little kisses into the skin there.

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yornayyy · 6 months ago

Text

“We should get married.”

The question in and of itself is a strange one, made more so for the fact that it’s coming from Zoro of all people – and the fact that he’s asking you in the middle of a fight. Your back is pressed against his, the heat of his skin seeping into your clothes – and you wonder if he’s gotten hit in the head too many times. Or thrown through too many things – too much of something.

“Are you seriously saying that right now?” Your tone is incredulous as you swing your weapon, scowling as you watch another enemy drop with a cry and a splatter of blood. “We’re a little busy right now, aren’t we?”

Zoro grins, expression manic with the deepened shadows of his face from his bandana, adjusting to place the hilt of Wadou Ichimonji in his mouth. “Is that a yes?”

You have the brief moment of considering knocking Zoro out for your opponent – clearly his daily naps out in the sun have baked his brain more than you previously thought. “No!”

–

The question doesn’t turn out to be borne from a brain-based injury flaring up, because Zoro doesn’t let the subject go. He bides his time, waiting about two weeks from when he first asked before he tries again.

This time, the stars are a witness to his buffoonery – now fueled by the bottles of sake he seems to have squirreled away everywhere on the Thousand Sunny. You watch as he tips the bottle to his lips, the brief shimmer of liquid that beads at his lips before it disappears as he swallows.

“We should get married,” he says, and this time, you scoff. It isn’t one of disdain, rather of amusement as you wait for the alcohol induced flush to rise to his cheeks. “‘m serious, you know.”

“No,” you counter softly as you scoot closer to him, reaching up to wipe a drop of sake from the corner of his lips and bring it to your own for a taste. As ever, his own choices in alcohol seem to be tailored for him and him alone – sake still isn’t your thing. “You’re drunk.”

Zoro hums, eye flicking from the night sky above to you. “Is that a yes?”

You press your lips to his warm cheek. “Ask me again when you’re sober.”

–

The third time that he asks, he’s waited so long that you’ve almost forgotten that he ever asked in the first place. After all, Roronoa Zoro has never seemed like someone interested in the intimate entanglement of marriage – you have absolutely no clue what has possessed him to suddenly ask you with this kind of tenacity.

“We should get married,” he says, and you resist the urge to sigh as you stare at him, his head pillowed against your thigh. Below the shade of Nami’s tangerine trees, you can hear Luffy’s bright laughter intermingled with Usopp and Franky’s.

This time you aren’t in the middle of a fight, nor is he drunk. This time, you take a moment to study his face, the dapple of sunlight through waxy green leaves, the scent of citrus in the air. You love him, you’re sure of that – as sure as you’ve been of anything in your life.

“We’re pirates,” you answer, tapping your fingers against his cheek in an echoed rhythm of one of Brooke’s songs from the night before. “Pirates don’t get married.”

“Sure they do.” He’s watching you now, with the kind of intensity he usually only reserves for battle, and you look away. “Captains can officiate marriages. I asked Robin about it.”

You blink and let your attention shift to Luffy for a minute – you love your captain, you do. But the idea of him being serious about much of anything beyond what matters to him (food, his crew’s safety, finding the One Piece – in that order) makes you giggle. You can’t imagine him officiating something like a marriage.

“What if I want a ceremony?” Your fingers find his cropped green hair, stroking gently across his scalp. “Those are expensive.”

He shrugs. “We’d find a way. I’m sure Nami would help.”

Your lips curve in an amused smile for a moment before it dims at the edges. “It’d be dangerous,” you point out, and he answers with a short bark of laughter.

“Not any more than shit we’ve already faced.”

“Rings?”

“We don’t need that fancy stuff.”

Your smile fades completely, hand stilling in his hair. “Why do you think we should get married?”

There must be an edge to your tone now, because Zoro refocuses on you, all signs of mirth gone. “Because we love each other, right? Sounds like the next logical step.”

Your gaze hardens. “So you’re asking because you think we should? Or because you want to marry me?” He sits up, and you get to your feet.

“Is that a no?” he asks, and you pause.

“Ask me again when you figure things out, Zoro.”

–

“Marry me.”

This time, his voice is quiet. Soft and vulnerable – for the late hour or the intimacy of his bare skin against yours, you aren’t sure. His hand drifts up and down your back, counting the bumps of your spine over and over.

You shift against him, face nestled to rest against his chest. “Zoro–”

“I’ve thought about it,” he cuts you off. “So just be quiet and listen, okay?” You don’t say a word, waiting for him to continue on his own. “I don’t want to marry you just because I think that I should, I want us to get married because you...you mean a lot to me. You’re important to me, and I –” He pauses, struggling. This kind of thing is not Zoro’s forte, you both know that – but after a moment, he resumes. “I don’t see myself being like this with anyone but you. I don’t want to be like this with anyone but you. Just want you.” A moment of silence, hearts beating in tandem.

You move, adjusting enough that you can look at him properly, the gleam of moonlight against his face. And you kiss him. Slow and sweet, eyes sliding shut as you linger for as long as you can before you pull away.

“Marry me,” he repeats.

This time, you don’t squawk at him like he’s crazy. You don’t accuse him of being drunk, don’t deflect him for fear that he’s doing it because he thinks he should, not that he wants to. This time, you smile.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll marry you.”

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yornayyy · 7 months ago

Text

𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐇𝐎 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊.

꡴𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠ꨄ 𝑦／𝑛 𝑥 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟

꡴ 𝑖𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝

꡴𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡ꨄ 𝑖𝑑𝑘 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑙

꡴ 𝑐𝑤ꨄ 𝑠𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔， 18+

꡴ 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 cafekitsune 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃

“ugh,connie just admit that you're lost.“

exasperation filled your voice as you fiddled with the large map spreading it across the dashboard.your eyebrows were pulled together as you tried to figure out where the fuck connie had you two at.your phone had long since lost service as your stubborn boyfriend drove further and further into the desert terrain.so here you were looking at a map you had no damn idea how to read.you could feel a headache throbbing behind your skull, maybe the california heat was finally getting to you.

heat kissed at your glistening brown skin and you were glad you had put your black girl sunscreen on yourself and your boyfriend who’d protested the entire time. stubborn son of a bitch. you already knew in the back of your head that when connie springer had suggested a road trip there’d be some bullshit.the first problem was you’d be embarking on this journey in his car, a white 1992 chevrolet Camaro rs that had more problems than it was worth.

the heat nor air worked and sometimes the car would sputter and jerk and you’d have to get into the driver seat and steer while connie pushed from behind.it was practically a freaking death trap and you suggested thatyou guys drive your honda accord but connie refused. you wanted to fight him on it, tell him that it wasn’t safe, tell him that you two could be a pile of ash in mere seconds if his shitty car blew up. but when you looked into those puppy dog hazel eyes you couldn’t resist saying no to him.

damn where was your back bone?

your eyes shifted over to the picture of you and connie tucked on his speedometer.

you remembered that night like yesterday it had been thundering and you were terrified.connie had snuck through your window,face wet with rain water.when you called him explaining that your parents weren’t home and you were scared he’d decided that you guys should do face masks, you knew was trying to help you calm down because he hated those facemasks,claimed they were too girly.you thought it was sweet he had printed off the picture, even somehow making it look like a cute little polaroid.he had brought snacks and the two of you watched netflix and cuddled with you all night until you fell asleep.

you and connie were pre-k sweethearts and you’d think you wouldn’t be susceptible to his little trick by now and yet it tugged your heart strings all the same.every time.you still remembered when you’d fell off of the swing at school.you remembered wailing loudly as you examined your scraped skin and pink hello kitty dress with a rip now.you’d felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around sniffling to see connie.he’d helped you up, pulling a flower from behind his back with a ‘tada!’ such a stupid little move now that you recalled, but little you was awestruck.and although the entire moment was cheesy it was a day you’d cherish forever.

after that you two were pretty much inseparable.you guys went through all of middle, elementary and highschool where connie finally asked you to be his girlfriend.you two got your first apartment after graduating highschool and you couldn’t be happier having your own space with your man.

“we’re not lost.” connie argued,ripping you from your thoughts.

“right.any minute now we’re gonna be hunted down by some inbred mutant freaks because of your poor navigation skills.” you snorted, only half joking.you pulled down the sun visor and inspected your appearance, your makeup was creasing around the corners of your mouth and you looked like a greaseball.had you known it was gonna be this hot you would’ve went bare faced.

thank god for sweat proof lace glue.

you could feel connie side eyeing you as you touched up your makeup,beauty blender smoothing out the creases and dealing with the oily spots.snapping the sun visor shut into place you peered over at him and crossed your arms with a cocked eyebrow.”you’re fake as hell connie.when were you gonna tell me i looked like a greasy pizza?”you questioned.

“what’re you even talking about, you look beautiful as always.” connie assured, not getting what his girlfriend was getting at.he wasn’t lying you did look beautiful to him.with your dark hair pulled into a ponytail, sides pulled out to frame your heart shaped face.your lips were pulled into a snarl as you tired your best to intimidate him but with those big doe eyes and pouty lips you looked more like a scowling puppy.

you wore an orange sundress that hugged your curves and complimented your ass perfectly,you decided to not wear a bra and connie could see your nipples outline.you wore those big hoops he loved to play with even though you hated when he stuck his hand through them.and your lips,they were glossed with a clear gloss over your lip combo.overlined with a brown pencil accompanied by butterscotch and cinnamon roll butter gloss.

connie squinted at you,” actually you do look a bit ugly.”

you rolled your eyes at him and turned your entire body to your window,wind offering you a breeze.

“oh come on take a joke! just trying to lighten the mood baby.” connie grinned, poking at your side playfully.each time you’d slap his fingers away and he’d swerve the car purposefully.convinced his car would take this as a sign to blow its head gasket you gave in with a sigh and turned your annoying man.your stomach growled in irritation and hunger and you groaned, if connie hadn’t gotten you guys lost you would be face deep in a juicy burger right now. your mouth was drooling at the thought.

“yeah me too.” connie mumbled at your stomach.

his eyes focused on the road and you felt his warm hand settle against your thigh,your stomach flipped.you never knew you had an attraction to hands until you began dating connie in highschool.you knew it couldn’t be a fetish because you only liked his hands.they were big and veiny, nails clipped short with a clear polish on top, connie was very big on keeping himself groomed and you loved that.

and just like that, your cunt was watering and you were horny.you were sure you’d seep through your dress because you weren’t wearing underwear and you clenched your thighs together.connie noticed your constant shifting and looked over at you, concern spread across his face like wildfire.

you cleared your throat and nodded.

you see you and connie had made a bet two weeks ago during an argument.you two wouldn’t fuck for an entire month and whoever caved first was stuck on dish duty for three months. he had called you a spoiled bratty nympho freak that couldn’t keep your legs shut and you were determined to prove him wrong.just because you liked a little sex here and there…and everywhere doesn’t mean you were a nympho.

right?

he hadn’t been making it easy for you to win, walking around shirtless with that sculpted body, pants always hanging just below his v line to where his trimmed pubes peeked out. he’d oh so conveniently have to squeeze past you and you could feel his dick in your back, he’d kiss you so roughly with his hand wrapped around your neck just to pull away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

it was driving you nuts.

“you okay babe?”

“yeah i’m fine, just hungry…”

you weren’t lying, you were hungry for some meat.just a different kind of meat.

“hmm.let me pull over and we’ll look at the map together, im sure there’s a dinner somewhere.”connie frowned,feeling bad that you were hungry.you’d offered to pack a couple of sandwiches and other various snacks for the road but connie said you guys would just hit dinners and there was no need.stupid, you know.but he claimed it would be fun going to different places to eat but he didn’t think they’d get so turned around so fast. they’d been driving already for eight hours, trying to find their location for an hour and a half.

connie seemed to loom over you at six four as he spread the map across the hood of the car,muscles flexing as he doodled on it with a pen.you gulped as you looked at him, you were standing slightly behind him so you were free to gawk in secret.his eyebrows were pushed together in concentration, jaw clenched as he rested his body against the hot hood.he wore a black compression shirt and you could see every fucking muscle he had under there and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was teasing you with the black sweatpants he had on.

each time the wind would blow you’d get a hint of his smell,husky with a hint of spice.

it was fucking intoxicating.

you wished he would fuck you right here on the hood his car, you didn’t care if people could see you getting your poor pussy pounded by him. you just fucking needed him.

connie snapped in your face.

“y/n, are you even listening?”

“i am.” you lied, acting like you just weren’t fucking daydreaming about connie pulling your dress up.he rolled his eyes at you obviously annoyed that he’d have to repeat himself.

“i said i know where we are, there’s a dinner forty minutes from here. i’m fucking starving.” connie repeated,rolling the map up and tucking it underneath his arm.

“good, let’s get back on the road.” you smiled sheepishly in embarrassment at have been caught staring like a creep.

you and connie were back on the road, his hand placed on your thigh.you couldn’t take it anymore, you were gonna burst from anticipation.connie was right, you’re a fucking sex addict and you needed him.

you unlatched your seatbelt and leaned over the arm rest, a gasp leaving connie’s lips as you opened the fly of his sweatpants and pulled his dick out.bastard knew what he was doing, he didn’t even have underwear on.

“i knew you’d crack you fucking nympho, now suck daddies dick. show me how much you missed it.” he rasped,one hand burying into your hair and the other gripping the wheel.your mouth practically watered at his pink glistening tip and it was clear he had been struggling to refrain himself from taking you on the hood of his car as well.

you gulped,holding the base the base of his dick and swirling your tongue around the tip slowly.

“a-shittt.” he groaned out gripping the steering wheel.he wasn’t sure if this was safe to be doing this while driving but he didn’t fucking care, the way you swallowing and choking on his dick had him mewling out in pleasure.his tip was hitting the back of your throat and you nearly threw up but held it down,if having the back of your throat bruised meant you were gonna get your pussy stretched out you didn’t care.your face was a mess,saliva covered the entire bottom half of your mouth as you slurped and sucked.

“mm’, you’re sucking my dick so fucking good. like the little slut you are.” connie cooed rubbing your back reassuringly.tears prickled your eyes as connie violated your throat, sliding in and out of your mouth which a wet slurp sound each time.you decided to give your poor throat a break and grabbed his dick with both hands,stroking and twisting at the same time.

connie eyes snapped closed in pleasure as he forgot he was driving, his head resting back against the headrest as he moaned from pleasure.he jerked forward as the car began sliding off the road,you continued stroking him and he whined as his tip dripped precum.you knew it was risky doing this, knowing there was a chance that connie could lose control of the wheel.but you didn’t care you were gonna suck him dry, it was his job to watch the road not yours.

“s-shit we were on the brink of death and you’re sucking my cock like a whore.” connie groaned in bliss.he was nearing his end and with each tug of his dick around your soft hands he found it harder and harder to control the car.he wanted nothing more than to buck his hips into your mouth and use you as his personal pocket pussy.

connie abruptly swerved to the side of the road and put the card in park,grabbing your head with both hands all you could could was open your mouth wide as he used you for his own pleasure.cries of pleasure left his lips as you choked repeatedly, connie wasn’t aware he wasn’t letting you breathe he was just focused on getting his nut.

with one last buck of his hips his cum sperm was spurting down your throat and you swallowed every last drop.

“ugghhhh.” connie gasped out as you sucked him through his high, making sure to lick every drop of cum off of his dick and clean him up.

he nearly snapped the seatbelt trying to get off it,telling you to get out the car and you happily obliged.he tugged his shirt off and you almost fell to your knees, sharp abs heaving heavily as he recovered from his recent nut.he placed the shirt on the hood of the car as so it wouldn’t burn you,you heard his sweatpants fall the ground and you knew he was about to rock your world.

it had been a whole two weeks since you felt him inside of you.

and you yearned for it.

a smile crept onto your face as he hiked your dress up,eagerly you placed your hands flat on the hood of the car.a small whimper leaving your lips as he forced your cheek against the car,pinning your arms being your back leaving you to his mercy.

“this is what you wanted right?” he husked,a loud crack of his hand against your ass.you bit your lip as you almost screamed.”you wanted me to hike your dress up and fuck you here in the open, where anyone can see huh.” he hissed,hand cracking off your ass again as he hit you again.

you could do nothing as connie spanked you,your ass was red and sore and yet you wanted him to continue.you wanted to be punished for giving into your needs.a whimper left your lips are you felt his tip glide across your twitching clit, he groaned in pleasure as he glided himself between your wet cunt.he wasn’t even in you yet and you were leaking.

“look at you,so fucking needy.” he said breathily.

he was right, you were needy. and you needed him.

“connie!” you screamed as he pushed his thick length into you,stretching your walls to the max.he hadn’t let you get adjusted to his size before he was fucking you mercilessly.pulling his hips out just to slam back inside of you,your hands were pinned behind your back and he used them to leverage his thrust.

you were too blinded by the rough thrust to care if people saw you,saw you with your ass tooted in the air as you got fucked like the nympho you were.connie felt so good,a soft thudding filling the air as connie rocked his hips into you.his hand ran over your connie tattoo on your ass and he smirked, my crazy ass girlfriend he thought.maybe you were delusional but you loved your man and you loved tattoo's, so it was only right you get nis name tatted.

“c-connie!” you sob as his he pulls you down and angles his hips so that’s he’s deeper inside of you.his thrust are relentless and they hurt but in the pain is pleasure.his grunts are so fucking sexy behind you and you beg for him to let your hands ago so you can rub your clit.

“p-please,let me touch myself.” you beg, tears spilling from your eyes as he delivers a couple of more thrust and finally release your hands.one hand smacks down on the hood of the car and the other finds your tingling bud,rubbing in circular motions matching the rhythm of connie’s thrust.

“mmm, fuck me please daddy!” you choke out.you feel one of his hands reach into your hair and the other is placed in the middle of your back for support as he thrust.your eyes shut in bliss as your stomach clenches.

connie’s head lulls back as he fucks you aganist his car,you feel so good around his dick.wet and tight around him,he couldn't believe his sex addict girlfriend had him out in the open,fucking her.

“y-y/n...“ connie groans as you began twerking on his dick,his hands digging into your ass and breaking skin.it hurt but the pleasure was far greater and you found yourself choking back a loud moan.

you nearly screamed as he began meeting your thrusts,your ass slamming against his toned stomach.

"f-fuck r-right there." you cry out in bliss,teeth digging into your lips as his tip prodded into your g-spot.you were fucking helpless underneath him and he used this to his advantage.he was using all the pent up sexual tension he had been holding out on you.

his balls slapped against your soft ass as he snapped his hips into you with force, you looked so breedable to him.he wanted to decorate your walls with his nut.his head was so foggy he didn’t care if he busted and got you pregnant, because you were wrapped around his twitching cock so beautifully.

"baby." you rasped drawing out his name in a pathetic whine.he was fucking the shit out of you and it made your head spin.you were so glad that no one could see or hear you getting slutted out by your boyfriend, you’d be so fucking embarrassed.

a string of profanities left your lips in pleasure as the knot in your stomach suddenly snapped.

"let it out baby. cum on this dick." connie encouraged you, slowing his thrust.they were still deep just slower now and you shook as his hips steadily rocked into you,fucking you through your high.

his thumb sloppily found your clit and you moaned softly as his fingers rubbed in circular motions.you were so fucking sensitive but didn’t have the energy to protest.you knew connie was close as his thrust got sloppier, his legs shook underneath him as he suddenly pulled out of you.his spurts of cum shooting onto the hot gravel, a throaty groan escaping his lips as he stroked the last of his cum out.

“fuckkk.” he drawled.

exhaustedly you pulled your dress down and stood up nudging your boyfriend.sweat slicked his body and he looked fucking heavenly standing there mouth agape in pleasure as he held his softening dick in his hand.you stood on your tippy toes and placed a kiss on his cheek.

connie grabbed your face so that your lips puckered.his usually hazel eyes were now dark, laced with please.you could tell he wasn't done with you from the way he was looking at you like a fucking piece of meat.he basically dragged you to the car, shifting the seat back as he sat and you wasted no time straddling him, hands desperately tugging your dress up again.

trembling in need, you grabbed the base of his dick.connie tensed at your actions,a breathy moan leaving his pink lips as you lined him up with your entrance,wet pussy folds grinding against his dick causing his leg to twitch a little bit.

connie knew you were teasing him and it only made him hornier,his tip was dripping precum the way your wet folds glided across his tip.his head lolled back aganist the headrest as you finally sunk onto him, your hands gripping the leather seat in bliss as he stretched and filled you again.

"fuck y/n." his deep husky voice sounded, his hands moving over to the curve of your back as you adjusted to his size. he could tell it was slightly painful for you and as much he wanted to buck his hips up deeper into that pretty little pussy but he refrained because he didn't want to hurt you.

"doing so good princess." he cooed and your stomach swarmed with butterflies at the words of gratification from your boyfriend.you placed your hands on connie’s shoulders for balance a you began sliding up and down him, a boost of confidence rippling through your body as his needy gasps filled your ears.your walls were tight and wet around him, the two of you like a perfect fit.

he was pussy drunk, the way you felt,the way you were fucking him.he fucking loved all of it no other female had ever made him feel this way, you had him in the palm of your hand and you knew it.

your ass dropped on connie at a constant speed, squelching queefs leaving your pussy as you rode him with urgency.he looked so fucking sexy, mouth agape with his eyes screwed closed and you could see him drooling a bit in pleasure.

who's the sex addict now? fucking satyriasis, you thought.

“ooo baby, your pussy feels so good. “ connie cried out,toes curling as you fucked him sloppily.you bent down and placed a kiss on his lips,connie immediately taking action and grabbing the back of your neck and thrusting his tongue into your mouth.you moaned as your tongue fought is for dominance.

“o-oh f-uckk.” you whined into his mouth as he began bucking his hips up into you,the car rocking on it wheels as you two fucked like animals in heat.

connie’s mouth moved over yours sloppily and you knew your lips were gonna be swollen, but you didn’t care.you whined against his lips as you felt that familiar knot in your tummy.connie could feel your walls contracting against him,” look at that greedy little pussy eating me up fuck.” he breathlessly stated.

you were creaming on his dick at this point you were so fucking horny and he was so hot.your head fell back in pleasure, one hand holding his chain and the other placed on his shoulder.you were so wet that occasionally he’d slip out and his dick was rub against your clit, a shaken moan leaving your lips each time it happened.

“wet ass pussy,so messy for me I can’t wait till’ i clean you up.” he murmured,with one more thrust of his hips you came.a scream emitting from your lips as you welcomed your sweet release, connie eyed you like a hungry animal.the site of you losing your shit pushed him off the edge and he was suddenly cupping your thighs and pulling you off, dick rising up and down as cum spurted onto his chest.

a drawn out shit coming from his glistening lips.

“it’s so much.” you giggled, leaning over and grabbing napkins from the glove compartment and cleaning him up.connie chuckled,”can’t help it, you’re so fucking tight. shit makes me crazy.” he rasped, toned body glistening as he tried to collect his breath.

your cheeks flushed.

“get in the back,i wanna clean you up.” connie demanded softly whilst tapping your thigh.he didn’t have to tell you twice and you wasted no time climbing into the backseat of the car while connie adjusted the seats for optimal space.you were pretty sure you’d melted off your makeup by now and you were thankful you had makeup wipes packed in your purse.your choice in fluffy baby hair was a good idea seeing ass they’d probably have melted off by then.

you were retracted from your thoughts when connie’s hands spread your legs apart, one hand cupping underneath each though as you lay on your back.half of his large frame was out of the car and he’d put his pants on the hard gravel as to not scrape he knees up.

your pussy watered as he began placing kisses on your thighs,starting from your gold ankle bracket with a ‘c’ charm on it, to right where your pussy was.you stiffled a moan as his middle and index finger pushed into you,thumb circling your clit slowly in a circular motion.

"i-it’s sensitive."you cried out, hands cupping your titties as your legs began to shake prematurely.you felt his fingers pull out and his mouth now on your wet cunt, lapping you up hungrily.your head fell to the side and your back arched involuntarily as a gutteral moan escaped for your lips, his tongue wildly flicking over your pussy now.

"you taste so fucking good." he spoke, pausing after each word to take a long lick with his long tongue.you whimpered and squeezed your eyes closed whimpered as you felt him pull your pussy lips apart, revealing your pretty pink throbbing clit.connie’s eyes glistened and looked like he'd just hit the jackpot, without a thought latching onto the sensitive bud.all you could was whine whine and squeeze at his shoulders,his arms looping underneath your thighs to hold your squirming body in in place.

"fuck," you choked out," you're eating my pussy so good."

"this shit is wet." connie groaned out,fingers back pumping in your pussy with a squelching sound.he made sure to curl his fingers each time he hit the base of your walls.tears streaked your face and your lips trembled with pleasure, pussy pulsating around his fingers as your eyes rolled back in bliss.you almost snapped your legs closed as she felt him brush against her g-spot,arms pulling your down further onto his face.

“i’m close, so fucking close.” you gasped as his fingers fucked you quickly.you were embarrassed to be cummimg this fast but connie knew how to work your pussy,knew every little fucking thing about your pussy to the last detail.his tongue was back on your poor little clit and you realized he was spelling his name.

c o n n i e

as soon as he spelled out the last letter the knot in your stomach snapped one again and your body convulsed with pleasure,legs snapping closed.connie made sure to talk you though your high,placing kisses your ass as he caressed your face.

once you had calmed down you opened your eyes to see connie tugging his shirt back on.his eyes met yours and he smirked,”good to have you back let’s eat im fucking starving.”

“agreed.” you huffed.

“also, you’re on dish duty for three whole months.”

“whatever,it was worth it.” you shrugged.

“nympho freak.”

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🍒

＠ ᴄɪɴɴɴ4ᴍᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ.ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ sᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴏʀ ᴍᴏᴅɪꜰʏ. ᴍᴡᴀʜ, ʙʏᴇ♡︎

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