Can you do a part 2 to I tried to be good am I no good? Like im losing my shit thinking of criminal!Jj getting out of jail after a long time and going to her window to see another guy there holy shit
Anon! Thx for the request! 🩷
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, spitting, smacking, getting caught in the morning, them being broken up but making up, this is literally make up sex, JJ gets a tattoo
You’re sitting cross legged on the floor of his bedroom, hair falling over one shoulder, fingers tracing lazy spirals into the carpet. It's quiet, the kind of quiet that feels like it was made for just the two of you. The clock ticks somewhere far off, but you barely notice it. He's sitting at the end of the bed, legs hung off the side, smoke curling around him.
Your eyes follow the movement of his hand as he lifts the blunt to his lips. You’re captivated by the way he holds it, casual but skilled, it’s just another tool in the art of being JJ.
“Can I try?” You ask, voice small but hopeful, reaching a tentative hand toward it. He jerks it back just out of reach before your fingers can touch it, and your eyebrows furrow.
JJ exhales slowly, first through his nose, then through his mouth, letting the smoke drift lazily upward before he speaks. “Nah.”
“Why not?” You pry, frowning at him. He leans back a little, eyes closing, a smirk tugging at his lips as he takes another hit.
“Your dad would kill me.” He says finally, voice teasing but there's an edge of seriousness that you disregard.
“He’d kill you for other things.” you reply and he opens one eye, half lidded, regarding you like you’re nothing but trouble.
“I just want to try it once, JJ.”
He goes quiet, jaw working like he's chewing on the idea. His gaze drags over you, slow and assessing, and you can practically see him weighing it.
"Don't make me regret showin' you, 'kay?"
You smile and jump up from your spot. You slide into his lap, knees on either side of his. He leans his head back slightly, eyes dropping to your mouth, smirk deepening, proud and a little wicked.
His free hand slide to your hip automatically, fingers dancing under your shirt without a second thought.
"Breathe in slow," he instructs, holding the blunt to your lips. His eyes are on yours, won't let you look away even if you wanted to. "Real slow, baby. Like you mean it."
You inhale and it burns as it crawls down your throat. Your eyes water immediately. JJ's watching like he's studying scripture, like your discomfort is the most fascinating thing he's ever seen.
"Dramatic." He says when you cough, but his voice has gone softer and there's a faint ghost of a smile on his lips and his hand on your hip tightens.
"Fuck you." You manage between coughs.
"Later." he brings the blunt back up, his wrist turning so smoke curls between your faces. "Try again."
So you do. His pupils are blown wide, black eating up the color, you don't know if it's the drugs or you. When you take another hit, still ragged and coughing a little, JJ murmurs, "There you go, that's my girl."
The praise does something to you, makes you dizzy in a way that you don’t think has anything to do with the drugs. When you exhale he grins, and before you can think better of it you're kissing him. It's clumsy and desperate and probably terribly but he doesn't seem to care.
His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, smiling despite how heated the kiss has gotten, and when you rock against him he makes a sound that goes straight through you.
"Easy," he breathes against your mouth, but his hands are pulling you closer. "We got time, baby. I’m not going anywhere."
And you believe him, because how could he? How could anyone leave after this?
You huff and open your eyes, rolling onto your side to stare at the opened window on the far end of your room.
You think of him all the time, in all sorts of situations. Most things remind you of him, in some shape or way.
Last week was seven months since you last time you saw him. You tell yourself you’re not waiting for him, not missing him, but you still keep your window cracked just in case.
You’ve got his lighter. A simple blue one, but it's dirty with grease and carved with small drawings. Sometimes you flick it open and shut just to hear the click, the sound that used to mean he was near. Your hands shake a little when you perch up in the window pane and light the end of a new blunt.
It's one of the only things you have of his. It's not like you can wear his hoodies around the house or keep his sweatpants in one of your drawers, so the small things you're able to play off as your own if necessary is all you get.
Mad doesn’t cover it. You're furious, if anything. Furious at him for getting caught with those fucking drugs in his pocket. Furious at him for leaving you. Furious at yourself for falling for him in the first place, furious at the way your heart twists at the thought of him in that cell.
You knew this would happen, you knew it was only a matter of time. JJ always thought he was too slick, too smart, too good to ever get caught. He's not usually wrong, but he was about this.
You remember the day so clearly. It had started with JJ refusing to get out of bed with you in the morning, leaving small marks where no one would see, finding any reason to keep you with him.
And then he got a call, and the JJ you had before pretty much disappeared. He was all but ignoring you now, and when you did try to get his attention he’d silence you with a not now that made you panic.
He said he needed to leave, to get something done. Left without a kiss or fifteen extra minutes where a hug turned into something more, nothing. And then he was in cuffs, being shoved into the back of your dad's squad car 45 minutes later.
There was about three weeks of time where you thought this could work. The sheriff’s daughter sending pathetic love letters written in red ink to some guy cooped up in a jail cell. But you could only face that lie for so long.
You had only called him once while he was in, and it was to break up with him. You told him in your best, polite voice that you loved him but this wouldn’t be able to last in the long run. JJ had fought with you the entire time, saying this was silly and he’d be out in no time and there was no need to do this.
You’d hung up before he could get a sensible word out. Of course, he’d have his friends, shady or not, try and reason with you. Drug dealers and pogues pulling you to the side in places they’d normally just walk past you.
Sometimes, in the quiet, you pretend he’s still there. Leaning on the dresser, laughing at you, telling you not to take life so seriously. Sometimes it hurts more than it should.
You text your dad you’re going to your girlfriend's for a movie night. Popcorn, bad romcoms, all the usual stuff. He gives it a heart, doesn't really respond because he's out of town with your mama for the next two days and doesn't really care what movie you're watching.
But mostly it's because he has no reason to question you. You're a whole year older now, a real full grown woman. He has no idea about you and JJ from almost a year ago.
The boneyard is dark tonight. The wind blows your hair wild, and the air smells like sand, fish, and smoke—the distinct beach smell you've become indifferent to. Music thumps faintly in the distance from the party being held. Ethan is next to you, telling a dramatic story about running from your dad and his deputy once to the girl his friend has an arm around.
JJ introduced you and Ethan. He was JJ's dealer before he got locked up, and he became yours when JJ couldn't be the middle man. He was nice—tall and lanky, with brown hair that flopped in his eyes and an easy smile that made you feel less freaked out about buying weed from some kid.
He'd become one of your closer friends in the months JJ had been away. Ethan knew JJ already, knew what you two have had. So, it was easy for him to understand when you sat there almost every night for the first few weeks and ranted about how frustrated you were. He was a good friend.
The first time you met with him, he'd said “you're JJ's girl" and he never forgot—but that didn't stop him from toeing the line sometimes once he heard about your separation.
He'd teased you at first, but when you'd sniffle or want to stay in instead of going out, his jokes quickly turned to something supportive.
One night, a few months in, it had tilted into something else. One kiss that neither of you had really talked about since. It hadn't felt wrong exactly, it had just felt like the wrong person. You think Ethan knew it too.
It's casual, easy, the kind of flirting that doesn't mean anything but makes your chest feel a little less hollow. Ethan's been good at that. Filling the spaces JJ left behind without trying to replace him.
There’d been a couple other guys. They’d never made it far past a first date or a conversation, but you felt it was important that they still counted. They were always brunette, never blond. You made sure they never looked like JJ.
You’d still felt a little out of place, like you did with JJ and his friends. You were still the timid, kind girl you were when you and JJ had met in the station all that time ago. But unlike JJ’s friends, Ethan’s didn’t seem to mind.
The boneyard hadn't given whatever you were looking for. You were tired, bored, and hungry. Ethan didn't hesitate to drive you home from the party.
He parked in the driveway this time, no need to hide his questionable presence from your father. He made himself comfortable on your bed, flopping onto his stomach, as you sat against the headboard. He's rambling on within seconds, one of his crazy stories he's always telling.
You're smiling when he off hands some dumb comment, reaching over to grab the little wooden box where you kept your rolling papers. You started breaking up the weed, your movements still a little clumsy but better than they used to be.
Then, there’s a sound. soft, almost too small to hear over your own heartbeat at first. A scrape, a shhick sound of the window opening just a little more. Your chest lurches before your brain even catches up and your head snaps toward the sound.
Ethan's still talking, more to himself now than anything, but your mind is completely elsewhere. Your hands halt their movement, and you’re stuck staring at the opened window with wide eyes.
You think, no way. Not now. He couldn't possibly be out. Someone would have said something. He couldn't possibly be coming here at this exact moment. There would have been some kind of warning. Why would he be here?
But sure enough, one boot slips past the frame, then another, then the rest of him follows, fluid and quiet despite his size. He lands with barely a sound, quiet enough 3than doesn't even notice, straightening up slowly as he pulls the window closed behind him with one hand.
He's there, standing in your bedroom. the hood of his sweatshirt is still up, casting shadows across his face, but you'd know him anywhere. know the way he moves, know the set of his shoulders, know the way he tilts his head, assessing.
He pushes his hood back, and he's still JJ. You don't know why you're kind of surprised to see him look, well, exactly the same.
His hair's a little longer now, if anything. he's got small bags under his eyes like he hasn't slept well, he's lost a little of his tan from being inside all the time.
But he's still JJ. A traitorous part of your brain echos still your JJ.
You watch his eyebrows rise, watch him take in the scene with an almost clinical detachment—Ethan on your bed, you with weed in your lap, the close to scared shitless look on your face.
“Well, this is fucking cozy."
Ethan whips his head around so fast you think you hear his neck crack. His eyes go wide when he sees JJ, and he scrambles up so fast he nearly falls off the bed. "JJ? Dude, when'd you get—holy shit—"
"Couple hours ago." JJ says, his voice easy, conversational. His eyes are sharp though, tracking between you and Ethan like he's doing math in his head.
You're still frozen in place, staring at him like you're seeing a ghost. Ethan, standing awkwardly by the end of the bed now, decides it's the right time to defend himself. "This isn't what it looks like. We're just friends, just hanging out, I swear—"
You look over at Ethan, eyebrows furrowed with an expression like, what the hell? But Ethan is already backing up towards the door. "Look yn, JJ's here! Isn't that awesome?"
“Yeah," you roll your eyes, narrowing them as they flick between the boys. "Awesome."
"Don't sound too excited, baby." JJ's just standing there, and now that the initial shock is wearing off, you can see the smirk playing at his lips. Like this is funny. Like catching another guy in your bedroom is somehow entertaining to him.
However, the casual endearment of baby after seven months of nothing from him makes your throat tight. "I'm thrilled."
What the hell is he doing here?
Ethan is still rambling in the background, something about the bro code and loyalty and "I'll literally leave right now, I'm already leaving. Look, I'm going—"
"Ethan," JJ's voice cuts through Ethan's rambling. "Breathe, man."
"Yup, thanks. Love you both. JJ? Missed you like hell, man, good to see you, We'll catch up later. Yn? I'll text you."
And then Ethan is gone, you hear the front door open and close, and then the house falls silent again, leaving you and JJ alone.
He moves further from the window, looking around the room as if he's seeing it for the first time again. His eyes land on the lighter on your nightstand, and something flickers across his face. Satisfaction, maybe. "Kept it, huh?"
You nod, it's all you can manage.
"How sweet." He says it absently, distracted. Your throat works, but no words come. You're still trying to process that he's real, he's here. "So, you and Ethan, huh?"
"We're friends." You deadpan.
"Yeah, I heard it the first time." He moves closer, and there's something lazy about it that annoys you. "Ethan seemed pretty worked up for just a friend."
"He was just surprised to see you."
"Uh huh." He nods. "How'd that happen? You two."
You bristle at his tone. "He was helping me. After you left."
"After I got arrested," JJ tips his head, like you've made a mistake and he's correcting it, clicking his tongue afterward. "Not really the same thing as leaving."
"Aw, come on." He crouches down in front of you, hands falling to your knees. "Really? That's how it is?"
"Yes. that's exactly how it is." You kick your leg out but not with much effort, JJ's hands don't go anywhere. "We are broken up, JJ! What the hell are you doing here?"
He lets out a short, quiet laugh and it tells you he's not taking you the least bit seriously. “We’re not broken up.”
“Yes. We are.” You stare at him hysterically.
“You went on a rant and then hung up before I could get a word in. You did it when I couldn’t do anything about it. That doesn’t count.”
You stare at him, jaw tight. "I've moved on, JJ."
His head shoots back a little bit with a scoff, eyes narrowing. "What, with Ethan?"
Your mouth drops open at the bluntness of it. "What? No."
Immediately, his whole face shifts. The annoyance smooths out and what replaces it is worse. "Ohh." He says it slow. "You guys just kissed. How cute."
You can't believe him. He is so fucking sure of himself, so full of it. You kick your leg out again, and again JJ doesn't move away. "Why are you here, JJ?"
"I don't know." You lean back a little. "Literally anywhere else? You got out and the first thing you did was come here?"
"Yeah." he says it like it's obvious. It's the look on his face that lights you up, the silly, duh look. It pisses you off so much you push him off you completely.
"You don't get to do this, JJ. You got locked up like an idiot and left me. So don't act like some goddamn saint when this is all your fault."
There's a beat of silence, and then his face transforms completely. The hard edge melts into something that looks almost delighted.
"Shit," he says slowly, and that smirk spreads across his face. "You're mouthy, when'd that happen?"
Your eyebrows furrow, head shaking. "What?"
Then it clicks. The way he's looking at you, the grin spreading wider, the way he's come right back to you and his hands are back on your knees, a little higher this time. He likes this, he's enjoying this.
"Are you serious?" You gawk. "I'm yelling at you."
He looks thrilled about it. "It's hot as fuck."
"You—" You almost lose it just from the way he's looking at you, like you're the most interesting thing he's seen in seven months, which you probably are but that's not the point. "Don't call me that."
"I know you are." he nods his head at you. "C'mon, keep going. Wanna hear what else I don't get to do."
You glare at him and sigh. If he wants it so badly, then you'll give it to him.
"You don't get to show up and expect me to forget everything." You say.
"Uh huh." His hands slide up your thighs slow.
"You don't get to be jealous. You don't get to say a single word about Ethan when you're the one that left."
"We'll come back to that one." He squints at you, leaning in. "Keep going."
"You're going to apologize."
"'M really sorry, sweetheart." JJ says immediately. He doesn't sound even a little sorry.
"You're going to mean it."
"I do mean it." he grins.
"What else?" His hands push the hem of your dress up just slightly with his voice laced in sarcasm. "You're on a roll, don't stop now."
"You're going to make it up to me," you say, straightening a little. "properly."
"Yeah?" His eyes drop, come back up. "How'm I supposed to do that."
"Figure it out. You're smart enough."
He laugh, and it's so familiar the thought of this hits you in the chest. His hands are pulling you closer, and you're letting him. "Anything else on this list?"
You think about it, then lift your chin. "Yeah. You're not allowed to think this is fixed. We're not fixed."
"JJ." you dead pan, giving him one last glare even though you're pulling at his sweatshirt now.
"We're not fixed," he repeats. "I hear you."
"Good." You hold his gaze for a second. "You're going to have to work for it."
"Whatever you want, baby." His hands slide to your waist, pulling you in. "You feel better? Got it all out?"
"You are such a dick." You shake your head, pulling him towards you with a harsh tug.
His smirk breaks out into a full smile, standing up and falling back onto the bed with you in one quick motion.
There's no time for a sweet, slow kiss. Finally kissing JJ again after all this time feels like a high you'll never get from drugs, it's addicting, you never want to stop.
He's all over you in seconds. kissing you, then pecking your cheek once and quick before leaning down to your throat.
JJ peppers light kisses across your neck, then bites down hard. You gasp, lifting your hips up into his. He groans into the spot he just left a bite mark at, kissing it again. "Fuck, I missed you."
You roll your hips up into his again, surprising yourself with the amount of need you're feeling just by having jj this close again. JJ brings his face back up to yours, giving you one wet kiss before happily returning a press of his hips.
Your hands pull at the hem of his sweatshirt, bunching it up over his waist. He leans back on his thighs, pulling it and his shirt up and over his shoulders and head in one motion, then tosses it on the floor.
You barely see it before he's back down on you, but the dark ink on his chest makes you frown into his kiss.
"JJ." You mumble out against his lips, pushing him back.
"Hm?" His hand comes up to your hairline, smoothing it over as he places another kiss to your lips.
"JJ." You repeat, and this time he leans back away from you and you get a good look at the tattoo below JJ's collarbone that was definitely not there when he went to jail.
It's handwriting, it's your handwriting. Cut from one of the few letters you wrote to him before you ended things, tattooed messily right there on his chest.
He sees you looking at it, pale in the face, and looks down at it for a second before his eyes land back on you. "What?"
You look up at his face, eyebrows crinkling. "Did you get my writing tattooed?" Your voice comes out strange and quiet.
"Mhm." He hums, leaning back down to kiss you again.
"You got my writing tattooed." You process it, blinking into space.
JJ leans back a little more, noticed you're freaking out. His eyes move over your face, taking it in. He lets you stare at it for a second.
"Meant it when you wrote it, didn't you?" He asks, his hand going back to your hairline.
"Me too." He says, nodding. He leans down and kisses you once. "Okay?" He murmurs.
"Okay." You whisper against him. He smiles, and kisses you harder.
That was JJ. You couldn't get a dramatic confession out of him, even if you wanted to. This is how JJ was, this is how you liked JJ.
You’re back into it, letting the tattoo become something you’ll lecture him about later tonight. His hands pull your dress up until it’s around your ribcage.
You sucked in a sharp breath when his finger hooks around the fabric of your panties, pulling it to the side as he leans back.
He doesn’t waste a second. His touch was blunt, direct, two fingers sliding through your folds with confident, knowing strokes.
You jolt, another gasp tearing from your throat. He remembered exactly how you liked it, the pressure, the rhythm. Your hips arched off the bed, seeking more.
JJ licks his bottom lip and smiles.
“Pussy’s already soaked for me,” he mutters, watching the way your hips twitch. “Like she knew I was coming home.”
His fingers your clit with a lazy friction that made your toes curl. “God, JJ. Please.” You whisper.
"I know," JJ leans down to press another kiss against your mouth. "I know, baby, I know. Gonna make it up to you."
His finger presses into you and curls, working you open so he can add another finger.
His free hand, previously busy running up and down your thigh, pushes your dress up and over your freed tits.
JJ looks down at your bare chest, then up at your flushed face and smiles.
He lowers his mouth to one breast, sucking the nipple hard into his mouth while his fingers never stopped their work below.
The dual sensation, the sharp pull at your breast, the relentless pace he’s set between your legs, scattered your thoughts into pure sensation.
JJ releases your nipple with a pop and leans back again. “You think about this? When you’re in here all alone, you fuck your fingers and think about me?”
You throw your head back against your pillow and screw your eyes shut, letting out a delighted moan.
His pace quickened, his fingers fucking you harder, his thumb pressing firm on your clit.
“Do you ever get this deep on your own?” He taunts, curling up again, hitting that spot that makes you cry out. “Don’t think you do. Probably try, but you can’t get it right without me, huh?”
You reach out and grab at his hair, pulling hard enough to make him hiss. “All you do is talk shit.”
“Sorry, baby. Can’t help it.” He runs his free hand back up your body and squeezes your tit again. “Fuck, you’re fucking gorgeous.”
You were panting now, grinding against his palm like your life depended on it.
Your orgasm builds fast, a wave forming with shocking force after months of dormancy. Your body tightens around his fingers as a sharp, blinding pleasure ripped through you. “Fuck JJ. Fuck—”
“That’s it, sweetheart. Soak the sheets. Make a fuckin’ mess for me.”
You’re breathing hard when he pulls his fingers from you, popping them into his mouth.
You watch him, hazy, as he sucks on his fingers.
He pulls them out, hand coming to tap against your pink cheek. “You okay?”
You nod enthusiastically. “Mhm. C’mon JJ.” You pull at his sweatpants, grabbing his hip.
He pulls your underwear from your hips down past your ankles, stuffing them into his sweatpants pocket.
You can see how hard he is through the fabric and your breathing picks up when he pushes them down to free himself.
Sitting up a little, you pull your dress over your head and throw it into the corner of your room, eyes never leaving JJ’s.
JJ strokes himself slow as he stares down at you, like he still doesn’t quite believe he gets to have you like this.
“Been jerking off to the thought of this for months,” he mutters, leaning forward a little to thumb your clit, and you jerkingly arch off the bed. “Couldn’t fuckin' wait for it."
You reach for him, but from where you’re lying you can only grab onto his arm. He replaces his finger with the head of his cock, running it through your folds.
“Missed you, JJ.” You whisper, biting your lip in anticipation.
He looks up, licking his lips as he smiled sweetly. “You have no idea how much I missed you, baby. Not a fucking clue.”
“Then show me.” You push your hips up into his.
When he pushes in all the way in one thrust and fucks such a pornographic moan out of you, it makes him grin. “Yeah, let it out. That’s what I like to hear.”
He gives you a moment to adjust, after all this time with nothing, it takes a second. JJ leans over you, rubbing your hair again as you grip his shoulders.
He started to move, dragging himself almost all the way out before plunging back in, slow at first.
You revel in the feeling of it, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.
His pace speeds up slightly, his thrusts become harder as his skin slaps against yours.
JJ moans against your lips, hand falling from your temple to your neck. “Can you feel how much I missed you?”
You nod, too overcome with pleasure to speak. Your lips slightly parted as each thrust forces an uh uh uh out of you.
“Open your mouth, baby.” He whispers, grabbing your jaw and smooching your cheeks.
You obey without questioning him, opening your eyes just enough to watch him collect the saliva in his mouth and spit.
It lands on your lip and tongue and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to get it all, swallowing it after.
“Fuck, yn. Fuck.” He groans, eyes closing and head slacking down.
A moan tears from you when he hits the perfect spot and his hand leaves your face to give your neck a quick squeeze.
JJ leans back, hands spreading your thighs open so he can watch himself fuck into you. He groans deep, voice rasping through clenched teeth.
“Fuck. Look at you. Watch how good you take me. It’s fuckin’ heaven.”
One hand drops to your clit and rubs tight, fast circles and your body aches further into him.
With one quick, brilliant idea, you wrap your legs around JJ’s hips and flip the two of you. You’re straddling him before JJ has a second to think about it.
The act of it was a little messy, so he slipped out of you in the process. You grab his dick, guiding it back to your entrance.
JJ looks up at you, carefully watching your face contort as you slide down onto him.
You use all the strength in your legs to bounce up and down, hands splayed against his stomach for some support.
You’re a moaning mess, high pitched gasps and wails falling from your lips as JJ holds onto your hips to guide you.
He reaches up to grab at your tits again. “Yeah, baby. Ride me like you mean it. My sweet, dirty girl.”
You somehow manage to roll your eyes. “Shut up, JJ.”
“There you go again, talking back. Love it. Love you.” He breathes out, pulling up down so you’re lying on his chest.
He takes over, drilling up into you so hard you stop breathing.
Your hand finds his, pulling them up by his head. Your fingers lace together and he squeezes once as he kisses you.
This is starting to feel like him getting out of that cell this morning never happened. That this is just a normal night and he's still your boyfriend and everything is fine.
He sits up, taking you with him as he thrusts up into you one more time before twisting and flipping you.
He puts you on your knees, him behind you, and pushes your back down so your face and tits press into your mattress.
JJ slides back into you with one, harsh thrust that has you seeing stars. He’s fucking you so hard the whole bed in moving, the quick rocking filling your room.
“Oh fuck, JJ. Oh my god.” You moan into the mattress, gripping at the fabric of your sheets to try and ground yourself at all.
“C’mon sweetheart. Tell me what I want to hear. Whose are you? Who do you belong to?”
You’re quiet for a second, unable to form a word. You let out a cry when JJ smacks your ass, hard.
“You,” you gasp out. “You, JJ. Always you.”
“Damn right. Nobody else gets this, nobody else gets you. Ethan can go back to being somebody else's friend now."
JJ leans over you, fingers lacing into your hair and pulling your head back so far your neck is craned.
You push yourself up onto your elbows as a way to relieve some of the pressure and you realize why JJ’s got you in this position.
The mirror up against the far wall of your bedroom is giving you a perfect view of JJ behind you. He’s looking at you through the mirror, smirking.
“Yeah baby. Stay right there. Watch me fuck you.”
He kisses your shoulder, then delivers another sharp slap to your ass that echos through the room.
JJ’s thrusts are getting harder, sloppier. He’s close, you’ve learned his tells.
“Fuck baby, I’m—” he stops, hand leaving your hair to snake between your legs and rub your clit.
The shock of it makes you cum again, much harder this time.
JJ’s right behind you, a mess of swear words and your name and I love you’s. You collapse against your bed, face hot.
JJ sighs, running a hand through his hair. He pulls you up, molding you against him as he lays down.
"I really did miss you." You admit quietly.
"I know, baby." His arms wrap around you, holding you close. You get an overwhelming feeling in your chest.
"You better not leave again."
"Won’t." His lips kiss your hair. "Promise."
You know he can't promise something like that, that he'd probably break it and get sent back to county within the next year.
In the late morning, JJ’s still next to you in bed. He’s wrapped around you tight, refusing to let you go.
The only reason you wake up is from the front door slamming shut.
"Yn, honey, you in there?" Your dad's voice is muffled from behind the door. And then, it’s right there when he opens your bedroom door, "Yn—"
You shoot up, gasping as you go to cover yourself, even though you're wearing JJ’s shirt.
Your dad looks like he might die from a heart attack right then and there. JJ just rolls onto his back, putting a hand behind his head.
"Mornin' Sheriff. You’re home early.”
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