❝YOU'RE ADORABLE, YOU REALLY ARE.
why don't you and i get out of
here and go on some more
adventures, yeah?❞
𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐟 (in which you and davy
jones, two...
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Honestly, neither of you know how you ended up in a church. Here you are though, pushing your way through the big doors of the house of worship you used to attend when you were younger.
"They really should lock these things." you comment, sarcastically and he laughs that golden laugh.
You make a note to yourself that you've found your new favorite noise.
"So, tell me why we're here again." he says as you grab his hand and lead him to the sanctuary.
"Well, we were in the area." you reply, opening yet another set of doors and flicking on the lights.
"I had to run 5 miles." he quipped.
You twirl on your heel and look at him, fondly. "And you looked so cute doing it, too!"
More laughter out of him and you never ever want to stop talking if this is the reaction you're going to always get. Turning back to the sanctuary, you walk in and feel the nostalgia surge through your veins. You remember the people you talked with every Sunday, the songs you sang albeit off-key, the horrid dresses your mother insisted you wear and the fun times you had.
Damn, church was a hell of a good time.
"I never had you pegged as a super-Christian, I mean you were grinding on that guy with the doe eyes at the club after all." Davy's voice pulls you back into the present.
You shake your head at the reference to Paul. He had gotten so drunk that he was rubbing himself all over everyone and exclaiming, 'It's my birthday! It's my birthday!'
"That was just my friend." you explain as you plop down in a pew.
Davy sits next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.
"If that's how you treat your friends, can I be one of your good friends?" he asks, cheekily and you slap him on the chest as you're both laughing.
You stay there, just laughing until you come up with a witty reply. "Trust me when I say that you wouldn't be one of my good friends."
He lets out a gasp.
"What? Why not?" Davy calls out in somewhat mock horror, his brown eyes flashing with hurt.
You smirk and straddle his lap. "You'd be my best friend."
And boom, you're kissing him again but this time it's heated, open-mouthed and - pardon the pun - sinful.
After a little, you make your way down to his neck, leaving a trail of kisses and love-bites. When you take off his Nehru jacket, he shoots you a smirk and raised eyebrows.
"What?" you ask.
"Nothing. I'm just thanking Jesus up there for my new best friend."
After he said that, it was set in stone that you were going to fuck him and guess what? You did.
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I OBVIOUSLY CAN'T WRITE SMUT THAT WAS THE WORST FADE OUT IN THE HISTORY IM LAUGHIONG SO AHR D
FUN FACT WHEN I WROTE IT IT LITERALLY HAD THIS SMILEY FACE :~) AFTER IT IM CACKLING
