#he’s givin ya an order Johnny… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lavishl0ve · 4 months

Note

Hiii it's me again HAHAHA I rlly love your writing, especially the last one😍

Could u please write about reader who loves biting? Both herself and Johnny? HAHAHAHAHAHA it's so weird but😭😭 anyways love youuu🫶🫶

-🫀

hii sorry for the late response on this request life hit me like a wreck 😵‍💫 but tyy !! enjoy 💋 (the song mentioned is down below if you’d like to listen!!)

Shot in the Dark plays for the fifth time this night. It does every shift I take, I’ve learned to blur it out although I find myself bobbing my head here and there. I wipe the counter, pouring a whiskey. Neat, just how he likes it. The bells strung above the door jingle as I hear his boots approach.

I turn facing him, drink in hand, placing it on the bar counter.

“Aw. You’se expecting me so early today?”

I scoff turning to him, he watches me, head slightly tilted to the right,

“Nope. You just mighty consistent comin’ here at ten each night Mr. Slaughter.” I reply, wiping the glasses.

He swishes the liquor before taking a sip, “I told ya, no need for the formalities sweetheart.”

Formalities, sure. The man didn’t even know my name, and I sure don’t plan on givin’ it to him either. He’d always come in each night, ordering that same drink. Only difference? The lady he hits on. Too bad he’s taken an interest in me.

Too bad he doesn’t have my interest.

I give him a simple mumble, “agreeing” with him. As our silence fills the bar I can tell how loud the song is now. I tend to do my job, but if I was honest… I was doing useless things, anything to look like I was busy.

“Cmon’.” He breaks the silence, “lemme get you a drink.”

I chuckle, turning toward him, “How many times I gotta tell you Mr. Slaughter?”

“I can’t drink.”

He gestured with his hands apprehensively, seeming to back off. Then he leans toward locking his eyes with mine. He glared at me through his thick eyebrows.

“Ain’t no one here Darlin’.”

His response was almost intimidating. I give him a sly smile resting my chin in my hands, hands supported by my elbows on the bar.

“My Boss.” I drag out.

He gave me a slow nod, his tongue toying with the sharp tip of his canine.

He leans in slightly closer, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt em’.”

I scan his face, up close I notice a scar that lashes along his left eye. It somehow compliments his face so well. I take a moment just to stare before answering him.

“Take a hint lover boy.” I break the tension returning back to my very important cup cleaning.

He huffs, “You ain’t no fun.”

I glance back at him, “Bite me.”

I hear the clink of him placing the glass down.

His voice is slow and smooth, “But you’d enjoy that too much.”

His words made my stomach flip, stirring something inside me, but I couldn’t show that. Instead I just shake my head. Moments pass.

“Don’t wish for things you can’t handle.” He growls.

He catches me off guard, I turn ready to fight back against his statement yet when I look at him he’s different. His eyes had darkened with criminal smirk painted on his face, he pulled it off dangerously well. Like I was his next victim.

My mouth had probably been agape for a good minute, thank god the creak of the employees only door redirected his attention. My eyes linger on him a little longer before I’m snapped away.

“Y/N I need ya to take the trash out before you close up.” My boss dawns on that same worn baseball cap he always wears, “Have a nice night y’all.”

And just like that we’re alone. I can hear my name replaying in his head. There goes my plan of not telling him. I try to avoid that small talk with him, walking over to the trash can pulling the hefty bag out. I spin around catching myself before bumping into his wide frame. There he stands towering over me, a little too close. I hadn’t even heard him walk over. He drags his calloused hand over my arm, trying to free my grip from the trash bag.

“Lemme help you with that.” he smirks.

He never broke eye contact, and there I stayed stunned again. Maybe this plan couldn’t work out. He was mighty fine and dare I say charming… but I was one of the many girls he did this to. Just remember that y/n.

I wanted to argue, say this was my job and that I was assigned to do it, nonetheless I was speechless. And with a simple break of my grip he hurls the bag over his shoulder like it was nothing, walking out, triggering that same bell over the door. I can finally take a breath.

Maybe multiple.

I had lost track of time, almost two in the mornin’. I had been long overdue to clock out but talking to Johnny had me attentive. The soft music in the back with the glow of the neon lights made it felt all too surreal. A little liquid courage helped me cool down a bit too, although I hate to admit he got what he wanted. I did have a few drinks. We were chatting for hours, talking about the basic things like favorite colors and ages to random stuff. It had all begun to blur into my mind past one point. His company was strangely nice.

He chuckled slightly, “It’s late Darlin’ can I drive ya home?”

I roll my eyes sarcastically at his remark, “I’m capable of handling myself Mr. Slaughter.”

He looks at my eyes, glancing down at my lips and back up again.

“I’m sure you could.”

I raise my eyebrows in response. His voice cuts through again.

“But chu’ been drinkin’.”

“And you haven’t?” I toy.

“I think you’d know I can handle my alcohol just fine.” He winks.

Each time he did one of those moves I felt all fuzzy. Stupid, like I was a school girl with some crush. But no, I didn't like him. I wouldn’t allow myself to.

I walked to the back room to clock out, turning off the lighting inside the bar, he stands leaning in the doorframe waiting for an answer.

I walk up towards him, he doesn’t budge, “Scuse’ you.”

“Scuse’ me?” he laughs “You the one who ain’t gave me an answer.”

He leans slightly over me.

“You got your answer.” I reply tilting my head up to him.

I push my way through him, aiming for the door. The cold air washes over me as I’d open the front door. The nights here aren’t usually this cold. I shiver slightly, his warm hand catches my arm again. I turn to him, he walks, pushing me backwards.

“Lemme do this one thing.”

His tone was soft, sort of pleading. He had sounded so sincere, I had almost felt bad.

I breathe in deep, “Johnny…” I long out, hoping he’ll give it up.

I hit the back of his truck, he presses his body closer to me than ever and just stares. He won’t give it up. I notice that now. His eyes bore into mine just waiting. But not for my response. I can feel his body against me with each breath he takes. The air now feels hotter and thicker than ever, my heartbeat in my throat.

His hand moves the hair from my face, he also hesitates for a moment. I can’t help but give him a soft reassuring nod. That was all he needed, that simple understanding. And then, in that suspended moment, our lips met—a gentle collision of warmth and lust. It felt a dance of intimacy, a symphony of emotions conveyed through a single, lingering kiss which had built up this night. His lips were warm and cracked, his fingers tangled in my hair. He was hungry, craved for more as he pushed deeper into the kiss. His taste of whiskey and smoke invaded my senses, I felt blurred and my mind gave in. I pushed back with the same amount of force, needing all of him, all of his taste. Fuck. How he tasted so good.

It had become a power struggle, seeing who gave in first, nevertheless I knew it would be me. I break away, gasping for air, he doesn’t stop for a second, moving down to my neck, he kisses and marks as his hands explore my body, moving all over. He suddenly bites down lightly, a gasp escapes my mouth. The sting courses through my veins. The vibration of his chuckle beneath me revives me from the pain.

“J- Johnny…” I stutter.

I intwine my hands through his hair, lightly pulling it away, a sign to stop. I had pushed him too far, he was going after he wanted.

“No.” He mumbles, slipping his large hands under my tank top.

I breathe in deep as he works his way up and under my bra. We have to stop, my mind knows I can’t do this with him. But my body’s telling me differently. Was it the alcohol? Maybe.

I moan lightly from his touch, from the drag of his tongue, he suddenly breaks away.

“Get in the car.” He demanded.

Johnny had looked like a starved wolf, staring me down waiting to obey his order. With each step I take back he follows keeping us in close contact. I do not turn away, I do not break eye contact. He can watch me as much as he wants. I open the back door of his white truck, crawling backward inside. He follows shortly after, topping me, urgently resuming that kiss. His hand glides along my left leg propping it up, slipping his hand under through my shorts. He toys with my panties, twirling them in his fingers. We can play this game.

I slip my palms into his jeans, past his belt. I stroke him softly as he gasps into my mouth.

“Need some help there Mr. Slaughter~..?” I amusingly ask.

He rises above me, unbuckling his sliver belt, “You gon’ fuckin’ get it tonight.”

I chew on my fingernail savoring him, he glides the leather belt off. He suddenly grabs me, flipping me onto my stomach.

He leans close into my ear, “I think you needa be shown some discipline darlin’.”

He grabbed my hands, locking them within the leather. Propping me up, my back to his chest as he runs his hands down under my bra, teasing, rolling his fingers making me squirm with every touch. His arm gripped tight around my waist keeping me in place. He pressed his lips against my ear causing me to tilt my head slightly backward.

“You wanna give in.?” He growls.

I turn my head to look at him, “But you’d enjoy that too much.” I remarked.

That same juvenile smirk reappears on his face. If only I knew what I was getting myself into.

His hands work down to the button of my pants, throwing me toward he rips them off my legs with my shirt following after. I can hear the ripping of fabric behind me, in turn, he holds the remains of what my tank top once was. Taking a piece Johnny twists it and wraps it around my mouth.

“You gon’ need it.”

He then pulls back on the part of fabric secured in his fist causing me to be thrown back upright. He sweeps the hair off from my collarbone, giving himself free access to my neck. He digs his canines deeper than the first time, the pain shooting straight down my spine. I arch back in response to the pain but his mouth follows my body close digging, deeper and deeper. Skin breaks and I feel warm liquid drip down my shoulder, nonetheless he doesn’t stop like a starved wolf. It became an excruciating tearing sensation, as if he had been pulling my person apart. The pain surged through every fiber of my being, and the world blurred into a chaotic whirlwind of agony. Darkness enveloped me, tearing through my senses with an unrestrained brutality. I felt the sucking of his lips on my sweet liquid, the pulsations only made the pain more relentless. With each drip of life he took from me the stinging intensified.

The ripping of flesh peaked, I would try and pull away only to be met with his hard thrust into me. I scream out from the impact as he catches me from the fall, he breathes in deep, arms tightening around me. Johnny's muscles tense, his grip around my breasts squeezing. His other hand slides down my body, between my shaken legs, finding the spot driving me wild. He uses this leverage to push deeper inside, claiming me completely. Johnny's pace fastened, his rhythm trying to push himself as far into me. His girth stretching me out, met with that same stinging sensation. The symphony throbbed all throughout my body, the bittersweet harmony conjoined as the sensations danced on the border between pleasure and pain. The subtle sting of desire intertwined with the electric pulses left me breathless. Every touch was a harsh contradiction, a merging of pleasure and a hint of agony that made the experience all the more intense and unforgettable.

It made me feel alive.

Johnny pants out, the moisture of his sweat and breath transferred onto my bare body. His movements became jerkier, more erratic as he held on. With a final slam of his hips he collapses onto me, trapping me between the car seat and his body. His heavy breaths dig into my ears, swooshing my messy hair back over my shoulder I can feel his eyes analyzing me.

“I got cha’ good hm?” he mocks pressing into me.

I’d assume the bite was worse than I had thought since the stinging became more prevalent than ever now, it had felt like my skin was on fire. The cold feeling from the lick of his tongue cools off the burning. He cleans off each trail of blood from my body. Savoring every essence. I run my hand over the bite, the indentation of his teeth marked into me.

I was now his.

#tcm #tcm game #johnny slaughter #johnny tcm #johnny sawyer #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny x reader #texas chainsaw game #fanfic

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eliniei · 5 years

Text

Those Hard Days - Chapter 6

Summary: Rae’s brother always made sure she was tough as nails. But when her father flips her world upside down, will she find that there’s a limit on how strong she can be?

Warnings: Rape/Non-con (non-graphic, fade-to-black), child abuse, underage drinking, underage smoking, drug use, violence, major character death

A/N: Ok, really, I fucking love this chapter. It’s got some blood and it’s got some food and it’s got some sweet, super fluffy moments. Darry may not be my favorite character but I really love how I wrote this scene with him and it totally makes me tear up.

AO3: here Fanfiction.net: here

Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 6 - Family

When Rae heard the screen door slam shut, she peeked her head out from the kitchen. She found Johnny setting his jacket on the arm of the couch. Ponyboy followed, sifting through the mail.

"Oh, hey guys," she said. Johnny greeted her with a nod and Ponyboy went to the kitchen to find her standing over a cutting board. She was chopping up some vegetables. He dropped the small pile of envelopes on the counter and looked over her shoulder.

"What’s that?" Pony asked, curiously.

"Dinner," she replied. "What's it look like?"

"I didn't know you could cook," Johnny said, leaning against the doorway. Rae shrugged.

"I can make some things,” she said. “If Dally wasn’t home, I didn’t eat unless I made it myself.” All three of them were silent for a few moments, processing what she’d said.

“You could’ve come here, you know,” Pony mumbled. “Darry don’t care.”

“I know.” She smiled, sadly. “But you had your own troubles after…” She looked down at the spoon in her hand.

"What ya makin', anyway?" Johnny asked, trying to change the subject. He stole a piece of raw carrot from the cutting board and popped it into his mouth.

"Beef Stew. Hope you like it," she replied. Pony and Johnny watched her get a large pot from the drawer underneath the oven and dump the uncooked vegetables into it, along with a broth and some spices. She set it down on the stove and turned on the burner. Then, she moved a slab of beef to the cutting board and set to work slicing it into small pieces.

"Rae!" Two-Bit's voice called, through the front screen door, his voice strained. She looked at the two boys, and then hurried to the door, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel as she went. Her eyes went wide. Her friend stood in the doorway, struggling to support Tim Shepard’s large frame. Tim's arm was around Two-Bit's shoulders. His face was beat to hell, even more so than usual. His brow was split, a scrape ran down the length of his shin under a large rip in his jeans, and his nose was dripping blood down his chin and white t-shirt. One of Two-Bit’s eyes was swollen shut and the knuckles on one of his hands bloody. Whose blood, she couldn’t say.

"What the hell?" Rae cried as she hurried to help them. "Pony, go get a clean towel. What happened?" They set Tim down on the couch.

"Found ‘em near the lot. Bunch of kids were givin’ it to him when I got there. Didn’t get a good look at ‘em, but they were definitely Socs. Just had enough time to chase ‘em off before ol’ Tim here nearly fell off his feet. He gave it right back pretty good ‘til the end.”

"They need to stay in their own turf," Johnny commented, a visible shiver running up his spine. “It’s getting worse.” Rae noticed the unmistakable look of fear in her friend’s wide, dark eyes. She opened her mouth to say something but Ponyboy ran into the front room with a clean dish rag and held it out to her. She pressed it against Tim's forehead.

“No kidding, especially if they had the stones to pick on a Shepard,” Ponyboy concluded.

"I imagine one Greaser is as good as another and four against one is easy pickings,” she said with a frown and turned to Pony again. “Bring one more, would ya?" she asked. He immediately obeyed her and left the room again. When he came back, Two-Bit took snatched it from his hands and helped Rae clean Tim up. Eventually, he opened up his uninjured eye and peered up at her.

"Hey, kid," he said.

"Rae,” she corrected him, again.

"Pony, do ya’ll have any bandages?" Two-Bit asked when he was finished. Tim sat up with a pained grunt and Rae helped steady him. He took the bloody dishrag from her hand and started wiping his own nose.

"Johnny, could ya check on the food?" Rae asked. He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Ponyboy led Two-Bit into another room in search of bandages.

"Thanks, Rae," Tim said once they were alone.

"Well, you did say we Greasers gotta stick together," she reminded him. He slowly nodded.

"Have a seat." Tim ordered, and motioned to the couch cushion next to him. She did. "You seem a lot better than this mornin’." She shrugged. “You sure you’re okay?”

"It...it was a rough morning," she admitted, quietly. He watched her closely. “I’m trying, but-,” she continued but her confession was cut short.

“Found some,” Two-Bit said as he briskly walked back into the room holding a roll of white gauze and a couple Band-Aids, Ponyboy on his heels. His knuckle was wrapped up tight.

"Why don't you stay for dinner, Tim?" He searched her face for a few more seconds, then shrugged. “We’ll get ya cleaned up and you can relax a while.”

"Why not?" He gave her a slanted smile- a lot like Curly’s. Two-Bit handed a Band-Aid to Rae, who carefully stuck it over the cut on Tim’s forehead. Tim took the roll and wrapped it around his own shin. When he was all taken care of, Rae went back to the kitchen and relieved Johnny of his stirring duty. She noticed he’d finished slicing up the meat for her so, she dropped it into the simmering liquid and covered the pot.

“Hey Rae?” Two-Bit’s voice filtered in from the other room. “There any bags of frozen veggies or some ice in there?”

“Yeah,” she called back. “I’ll bring it out in a minute.”

Half an hour later, Rae was setting the table with Johnny, when Soda and Darry walked through the front door.

“Nice to see ya’, Tim,” Darry said, laying his work belt on to the coffee table. “What the hell happened to you?” The two launched into their own quiet conversation.

"What smells so good?" Soda yelled through the house.

"Prob’ly dinner!" Rae yelled back. Soda waved at Tim and Two-Bit and went to the small dining room.

"Did you make it, Rae? What is it?" he asked, visibly excited, as he stood in the doorway, unbuttoning his work shirt. She smiled.

"Yeah. Beef Stew. Hope you like," she answered, and left Johnny to finish. Everyone else was sitting in the front room. "It's ready, guys."

"What is 'it'?” Darry asked, oblivious to the previous conversation.

"Beef Stew," Pony answered for her.

“Really? Ma used to make a killer stew.”

“Yeah, I-I used her recipe...I hope that’s alright.” The oldest Curtis brother smiled, warmly, albeit a little sadly as he put a hand on her cheek, his face brimming with pride.

“Of course it is.”

The boys all crowded around the small table. Rae smiled, watching them.

“Rae, join us,” Darry demanded, motioning to the empty seat between him and Tim. She hesitated for a moment, her smile faltering, but took the seat and let Darry ladle some stew into the bowl in front of her. She pushed the food around with her spoon while she listened to her friends talk about their days and joke around. One by one, they finished and started disappearing from the table. Tim made his exit first and after thanking them, limped out the door, Johnny not far behind him. Tim spared a wink back at her before he left. Pony went to his room to work on his homework, as ordered by his brother, and Soda went with Two-Bit to play cards in the front room. In the end, only Darry was left at the table with her, but his bowl was empty.

"It was delicious, ya know. Just like mom’s. You should give it a try," he insisted, trying to coax her into eating. She looked at him out of the corners of her eyes, but lowered her head and stared into the bowl. Her stomach roiled, threateningly, at the thought.

“I want to, but…I...” He sighed and shifted closer to her. He folded his hands on the surface of the table and stared at them for a few moments, trying to find the words.

"Look, I-I know what you’re feeling. After-after...well, I didn’t want to eat, either. And I know it's only been a couple of days, but you can't let it drag you down. If you do, it’ll get worse. Believe me when I say I understand," he said. She didn't argue because of course he knew what this pain, this grief, felt like. This loss. She felt tears filling her eyes again. He leaned forward on his elbows so that he was closer to her. "Rae, it'll be alright. Let us worry about this for you. Please, eat something. We don’t want to see you waste away.”

"I'm sorry, Darry," she said, finally, her voice shaky. She felt a tear slide down her cheek. “I don’t wanna be a burden.”

"Please don’t apologize," he said. "This is not your fault. If we'd gotten there sooner- if we had just left earlier, we could’ve- We'll make sure you never go back there again. Let us help you. You know we will, without complaint. I know you an’ Dally are a lot alike but it’s okay to rely on others sometimes." Darry wiped her wet cheek, the calluses of his thumbs scratching her skin. "Come here, little sis," he said, trying to cheer her up. She gave a strangled laugh and let him pull her into a tight hug. “We love you, alright?” She nodded into his shoulder as more tears spilled out and wet his shirt.

"Thanks," Rae said as they let go. "I think I am up for some food." He nodded his approval as she picked up her spoon and started eating.

“Just promise me you ain’t gonna turn into a drunk like good ole Two-Bit, over there.”

“Dally’d beat some sense into me if I even tried it.”

“Speakin’ of, I’ll try to find him. I know that this is all prob’ly a lot worse without him here. I don’t know what I would’a done if Pony and Soda hadn’t been here...” He got up from the table and went for the telephone.

Once she had finished eating, she went to sit with the boys in front of the TV, but Two-Bit was grabbing their jackets and her bag.

“Ready to head home? The sun’s fixin’ to go down and we gotta walk.” She took a deep breath and nodded. He handed over her jean jacket and shouldered the bag. “Mom’ll prob’ly be home tonight.” The two said their goodbyes to the Curtis brothers, a special smile reserved for Darry, and left. When they reached the house, Two-Bit’s mother was standing outside, smoking a cigarette.

"Welcome home Keith" – she was the only one who always called him by his real name, which made Rae snicker- "Hi Rae. Sleeping over again?" Rae nodded.

“Yeah, sorry Mrs. Mathews.”

“Oh, honey, it ain’t any trouble. If ya’ll get hungry, help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen.” She liked Two-Bit's mom. Everyone said that's where Two-Bit got his sense of humor from, but she always welcomed any of their friends with open arms. If she could ever have a second mom, that’s who Rae would pick. Mrs. Mathews smiled and let them head inside.

"I'm going to sleep," Rae declared when they got back to his room. She sat down on her makeshift bed and started unlacing her shoes. "I should probably get up early to shower.”

"You’d better, I can smell ya from here," Two-Bit joked, with a grin, dropping onto the couch, next to her.

"Very funny," Rae said with smile and shoved him with her shoulder. He got up and wandered off to change out of his jeans. While he was gone, she reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of pajama shorts and quickly changed into them. She slipped her shirt over her head, leaving the plain white camisole as her sleepshirt. Two-bit sauntered back in and dropped onto his own bed. He propped himself up on an elbow.

“Goodnight, Rae.”

“Goodnight, Keith,” she teased.

#The Outsiders #outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #rae winston #those hard days #dally winston #Dallas Winston #darry curtis #Ponyboy Curtis #Sodapop Curtis #Steve Randle #Two-Bit Mathews #Johnny Cade #curly shepard #Tim Shepard #stay gold ponyboy #stay gold

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vickyvicarious · 7 years

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max, johnny, and the future (bmw 7)

bullymagnet week, day seven: older

read day one, day two, day three, day four, day five, and day six first. also available on AO3.

Johnny got over beating up nerds a few years ago, but he’s never quite left the habit of terrorizing innocents behind. Max, balancing on the handlebars of his boyfriend’s parked bike, sighs as he watches him leer menacingly at two freshman.

“It’s really not fair of you to be their first impression of high school,” he comments when Johnny finally finishes up his conversation. “They’re gonna have nightmares tonight, yanno.”

“I was givin’ them valuable advice ‘n life guidance,” Johnny retorts, shoving Max in the middle of his chest. He wobbles, but doesn’t quite fall. “Also directions to the science lab.”

“If that’s even remotely true, you wouldn’t have done that thing with your face.” Johnny scowls at him, that crazy-eyed snarl only he can pull off. It’s by far not the most frightening expression he can make, but it sure is disconcerting. “Yeah, that right there.”

Johnny yanks him by the shirt this time, his brute strength overpowering Max’s anyday. He tumbles down, but refuses to hit the ground, just latching on to Johnny’s side and clinging. Undignified, maybe, but it gets Johnny to crack a smile for the first time all day, so hey.

“Get off me ya circus freak,” Johnny laughs, and Max tightens his grip.

“No way, the floor’s lava. Carry me to class, would you?”

“I’m gonna be lava ‘f you don’t let go,” Johnny grumbles, but his body doesn’t actually heat up and he starts to walk. They get a few weird looks on the way into the school building, but mostly only from the new students; this isn’t the first time this has happened by a long shot.

Of course, there’s a method to Max’s madness – for all his complaining, Johnny clearly adores when Max clambers all over him. He loves physical contact a ridiculous amount, in general. He pretty much will crawl into everyone’s lap during movie nights, he regularly greets people by hanging on them, he likes to high five and hug and hold hands and just, cuddle. With Max in particular, all of this is doubled if not tripled, with the bonus addition of his getting really embarrassed whenever he’s called out on it. He’s like, super into PDA, and also very scandalized by the thought of it when he actually realizes what he’s doing. It’s genuinely adorable.

And, sure enough, the clinging does the trick for at least the time being: Johnny’s scowl melts away, replaced by that hilariously equal split of obnoxiously proud yet blushy he gets whenever Max does this in public. Max is well aware this is far from a permanent fix, but Johnny’s been moody for several days now without explanation and it’s getting to the point where he’s legitimately bothered about it.

They don’t share a homeroom this year, so Max is expecting Johnny to shake him off at some point, but instead he delivers Max all the way inside his room, drops him on top of his desk, and then kind of just hovers there for a second with his hands on Max’s hips, watching him.

“Hey, you okay?” Max asks quietly. The smile he receives in response is truly angelic, in the way that only Johnny’s fake ones ever are. Years of staring in fascination at his boyfriend’s elastic face have given Max a very thorough comprehension of his expressions, and Johnny only ever smiles with his mouth closed when he doesn’t mean it. When he’s actually happy, he exposes his freaky medium sharkteeth in this huge manic grin that’s just, really impossible not to smile back at.

“When’m I ever not,” Johnny scoffs.

“Are you my teacher?” Max scoffs right back. “Don’t test me.”

Johnny’s teeth peek out at one corner in a half-grin, and without warning he drops his forehead down to Max’s. He closes his eyes and sighs.

Overcome by a wave of concerned fondness, Max kisses his nose.

“HYAGN,” Johnny yelps, leaping a foot straight back and going bright red. He stage-whispers, “Stop this is school.”

The rest of the class don’t even bother looking their way.

“You’re gonna have to tell me what’s up sometime,” Max threatens pleasantly. “I’m not above making out in the middle of lunch.”

“I tolja I’m peachy!” Johnny snaps back, retreating fast in the face of such a prospect. In the doorway, he hesitates. “But uh unrelated I got somethin’ to ask ya after school so consider yourself bookmarked.”

“That’s not h-” The door slams shut behind as Johnny bolts into the hallway. Sighing, Max slides down into his chair.

He’s a little scared about what this could be.

It’s not that he really thinks Johnny is going to break up with him. For all his numerous flaws, Johnny is marvelously talented at making people feel loved and appreciated when he wants to. Watching him interact with his gang was kind of the reason Max started to crush on him in the first place, and seeing his growing relationships with the Activity Club didn’t help. He actually realized he was a goner because of Johnny giving him comic books he wanted Max to pass along to PJ – once Johnny actually really likes a person, he pretty much constantly goes out of his way to make them happy, and never even considers it as especially thoughtful or special.

So Max, who has been the recipient of Johnny’s extremely intense if awkward devotion since seventh grade, pretty much never feels unwanted. It’s really, really nice, to be so secure in the fact that your boyfriend loves you even if he’s never actually said the words. Max is pretty sure he’s tried to, a couple times, but knowing Johnny it’ll be another three years before he hears them all said at once in the right order. He could probably speed up the process if he said them first, but he’s not exactly all that much better at this, so he’d kind of rather just let Johnny tackle that hurdle first. It’d be way preferable to just casually say, ‘yeah, me too’ back when the time comes.

Anyway, the point is that he doesn’t need the words to know… but, at the same time, somehow despite all of Johnny’s extremely effective affection, Max manages to have doubts popping up on the regular. He doesn’t actually believe any of them, when he stops to think, but sometimes it’s hard to trust in the better thing. It kind of goes against his whole nature, really. Max is so used to being the cynical pessimist that just being happy feels like he’s massively beating the odds, and whenever any hint of trouble on the horizon crops up he gets anxious.

He never talks about those nerves, mostly because Johnny would take them as a personal failure when it’s really nothing to do with him. It’s all Max’s, and he knows it, and he tries not to let it sabotage him anymore. He already messed things up for like two years just by being oblivious and then doubting what was painfully clear to everyone else in the world until Johnny finally confronted him with a demand for a date that Max knew was a date. And yeah, that whole conversation was very romantic and all, and his fourteen year old self swooned for like a week straight over it (not that he’d admitted it), but he’d rather not have such grand gestures be necessary again, not when he apparently broke Johnny’s tweenage heart a couple of times before he got so fed up. So he tries real hard not to spend all day thinking that Johnny wants to break up with him. He reminds himself of the many and varied ways Johnny has no chill about loving him, that Stephen at least would never have been able to keep something like that hidden from Max, refrains from making out in the middle of lunch but does lean a little heavier than usual into Johnny’s side and enjoys the automatic way his boyfriend supports him and starts feeding Max his French fries without even pausing in his conversation with Stephen and Ed, doodles in his afternoon classes and thinks about Johnny’s snaggly smile.

None of it quite does the trick, but Max’s got himself pretty much under control all the way up until school lets out and Johnny meets him at his locker, looking genuinely nervous himself.

They gather up their stuff and head out, wandering off the road and into the woods about halfway home. Johnny knows his way around every inch of Mayview, maybe especially the wild parts, so getting lost isn’t a concern. What is concerning is the way Johnny hasn’t looked at him in fifteen minutes, his grip on Max’s hand verging on painfully hot.

“You ready to fess up yet?” Max asks once all he can hear is their feet crunching through the leaves. There are a few owlish spirits in the branches above them, but otherwise he and Johnny are completely alone. “What’s taking up all the space in that puny brain of yours?”

“I’m gonna punch you.”

“Wow, real estate must really be lacking if that’s all the thinking you can take.”

Johnny lets go of his hand to punch Max in the arm. Max dodges. They hold hands again and keep walking.

“’S just… my uh, guidance counselor was askin’ me about college plans,” Johnny mumbles. “An’, um, I wanna y’know tell you about it and stuff.”

“Okay, so tell me,” Max says.

“I… I wanna be a teacher,” Johnny declares. Max turns to stare at him; he flushes, and rushes out, “like, little puny kids, like six or seven or eight or whatever. Y’know, when they’re still a good size to just pick up and throw an’ all, and… um… I don’t have to know too much complicated stuff so I think I could prob’ly do it –”

“Oh god,” Max says. “You’re going to get them all worshipping you.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I can see it.” He really can; Johnny grinning terrifically behind twenty or so equally hyper kids, god probably at least half of them are gonna have dyed red hair and want to punch their way through all their problems, he can see it so well. “You’re going to be terrifying.”

“Issat. Uh, good?” Johnny asks in this very small voice, and Max is pretty sure his heart physically wrings itself out in his chest.

“Yes, you doofus,” he laughs, “Johnny, you’re so good with kids. That’s perfect.”

Weirdly, Johnny doesn’t look very relieved. He doesn’t stop walking when Max tries to either, just clinging onto his hand and tromping along through the leaves.

“Well, good,” he sighs. “But Ollie’s, y’know, going off to win the Nobel Prize and whatever, and I was thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

“Me?”

“Leaving,” Johnny says very bluntly. It takes a few seconds for Max’s brain to even process the word, because. Because the idea of Johnny, confident down to his core Johnny having any doubt about Max is stunning, and impossible, and he feels incredibly guilty that he could’ve ever let it happen, and – what.

“I’m not leaving,” Max says, uselessly. He feels like it’s probably time to stop walking around aimlessly and continue this conversation face to face, so he turns to his boyfriend and grabs his other hand too. “I mean, I don’t know what I’m gonna do, but I’m not–”

“Fixed the Ghost Train,” Johnny says, head tucked down. “You can, ‘f you want. That’s fine.”

“…Say what?”

“I, jus’.” Johnny looks up finally, and, oh. That’s… his face is bright red, and sure that happens fairly regularly, but this is a whole nother level, Max is pretty sure he can feel heat waves. He’s pretty sure he could literally fry an egg off this blush. But still, Johnny’s eyes are focused right on his, and his words are firm when he says, “Go wherever ya want. Just come back here.”

“Johnny,” Max says. He’s been burned before, literally, so he doesn’t touch his boyfriend’s face even though he wants to, just grabs his hands a little tighter and leans in closer and, what the hell, they’ve just barely started senior year.

“I’m prob’ly gonna buy us a house,” Johnny announces a second later. “Also.”

Max is dying here.

“J-Johnny,” he manages, after about two full minutes of strangled nonsense, “we’re seventeen, what– ”

“You’re fine with it though right?” Johnny demands.

“I – I mean I guess, sure, that’s. Yeah.” Max’s everything is on autopilot right now, he can’t function at all, he really wants Johnny’s face to cool down so he can smack it and also kiss it a lot. “Y-you realize you’re basically proposing right now?”

“Don’t hafta get married to live together,” Johnny huffs, in a voice Max recognizes as ‘quoting from Stephen’ – “Marriage is a government scam an’ tool of the patriarchy, anyway.”

He hesitates.

“But I mean if yo-”

“STOP,” Max shouts, flinging all caution to the wind as he slams both hands over Johnny’s mouth, “oh my god don’t say anything else, don’t actually propose to me.”

Johnny’s brows knit together.

“’Mnoff,” he denies. Max still doesn’t feel like it’s safe to let go.

His heart is beating so fast he can feel it bouncing off his ribs. He feels hypersensitive to everything: the slight breeze in the air, the far-off whisper of dry leaves sliding across the ground, the uncomfortable warmth of Johnny’s mouth under his hands.

“You haven’t even said ‘I love you’ yet, but you’re planning to buy a house,” Max wonders out loud. “Y-you’re incredible.”

“Thanks, love you too,” Johnny snarks back, shoving Max’s arm off his face and also shattering every last bit of composure left in him (and also, stealing his line).

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU JOHNNY,” he shouts, grabbing him by the collar and just shaking him. It does disappointingly little good. “I don’t even know what I want to do! I’m not legal for, like, anything right now! I can’t be expected to be making major life decisions at this stage!”

“…’Kay,” Johnny mumbles.

“T-that wasn’t a no. I mean, sure, after my hypothetical out-of-town college life I’ll move into your theoretical future house paid for with an elementary teacher’s imaginary salary, but, Johnny, why?”

“Apartment wouldn’t have enough room for m’ true hearts foreverboys, and whoever. Plus I wanna cat and a dog.” He says it in a combative kind of way, like the mere prospect of one person owning both is groundbreaking and more than a little scandalizing.

“Not what I meant, but, fair enough.”

“I mean, I get it,” Johnny scrubs a hand behind his head, shrugging. “Yeah, it’s really early and stuff, but. I just wanted you to know I’m uh, I’m thinking about it.”

This is more than Max can physically take.

“Well I am too now,” he grumbles, reaching up and fanning Johnny’s cheeks. It takes a second, but the heat starts to fade as he catches on, though they remain flushed. Max puts his hands on them, tilting in until their foreheads are touching. “And yeah, sounds good. I just can’t believe you’re planning something.”

“Shaddup I’ll punchya boi,” Johnny says.

Max kisses him.

“You’re a huge weirdo,” he says, after breaking away. Then, self-recriminating: “I’m even worse for liking it.”

“Heheh,” Johnny snickers. “Thanks.”

“That wasn’t a compliment–”

“Kinda was.”

“Stop,” but Max knows he’s grinning, wide and manic to match Johnny’s stupid pointy smile, knows he doesn’t actually want Johnny to ever stop really (even if in this moment, yes, he needs to quit), knows he’s just as in love as Johnny is, knows now much to his surprise that at some point in the next five to seven years they will be living in a house together. RJ in their basement recording death metal, most likely, and a cat and dog with no doubt either a very combative or codependently close relationship, and Max will be doing [redacted] while Johnny is molding the minds of young Mayview children, lord help them.

How the hell is he gonna be the resident cynic now.

#bullymagnet week #bullymagnet #my fic #ahhh what is this #can you believe originally this chapter was going to be the first real date #but i got stuck and it wasn't flowing #and then johnny decided to go completely offtrack what the flip #um anyway #it's been a ride #thanks guys for all the support i hope you enjoy this chapter too #oh hey an alt text thingy: stephen isn't mentioned but i feel like he gets a job as a national geographic photographer #he can get very close to the hyenas very easily for some reason #paranatural

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mclennunf · 7 years

Text

This Boy - Chapter 34

A/N: im so sorry this update took so long, but i hope you enjoy! this is the last chapter unfortunately, and im so so sad. but please keep being the best mates ever and continue reading my other story (which will also be updated soon) In My Life. LOVE YOU ALL!

~Paul's~

He was sentenced.

15 years in prison with no chance of parole for 10 years.

We drank a lot that night.

Back at home, everybody was all smiles. Mike was running around the house, chanting "the big bad wolfey is gone!" over and over again. It was quite adorable. John was trying his absolute best to stay with me, but there were a lot of people around. George, his family, Ritchie and his mother, Mimi, and a few of our school mates. I was already drunk when John found me sitting on the front step outside smoking a cigarette.

"Macca?" He questioned as he sat down next to me. I looked over at him with glossy eyes. "Ello, handsome." I smiled at the sight of him. "Shh, love. People can hear us." John warned quietly as he lit his own cigarette. "T'hell with them all, I'm in love - and it's a beautiful day!" I jumped up onto my feet and pulled him up by the hand, pulling him in close. "Paul," John had a tense tone in his voice. "No, don't stop me, not now," I mumbled into his shoulder. He took charge and put his hands on my hips, quickly glancing around before guiding us beside a big tree, hiding beneath the light of the moon. "John," I mumbled again, this time my lips found their way to his neck. "Johnny... Johnny," I began kissing up to his jawline. "Want you.. no, need you," I moaned, bucking my hips into his. "Paul, not now... baby, no.." John's voice was scarce and hardly heard. I kept kissing at his neck. "Fuck... need you, too, baby," John pushed me hard against the tree, his hands slowly moving from my hips down around my arse.

"Paul?" A soft voice called. We both jumped nearly fifty feet in the air and unfortunately, away from each other. We peaked around the tree to see Mike standing in the doorway, pyjamas on, sucking on his thumb. "Mikey," I adjusted my trousers to hide my stiffness, and approached him. "Told ye t'stop suckin that thumb. You'll loose it, mate." I smiled down at him. "I'm sleepy," he informed me. "Auntie can take you t'bed." I told him, brushing a few pieces of hair out of his eyes. "No, I want you and John, to.." he pointed at John, who's frustrated face quickly softened at the words. "Okay, Mike." I scooped him up onto my hip and went up the stairs to Mike's bedroom, John close behind. I lied Mike down in bed. "So he's gone," Mike said through a yawn. "Yes, love. He's gone." John answered for me, knowing I was too drunk to have a serious conversation about such things. "Thank you." Mike said, eyes beginning to fade shut. "For what?" I asked, tucking him in gently. "Protectin' me," he barely got the words out before he was asleep. I sighed and looked up at John, who's eyes were already locked on me with a proud look spread across his face.

John took my hand and helped me out of the dimly lit room, and back downstairs to the party. "Mike's gone to bed!" John warned everybody. "Aye," I agreed, noticing his fingers still laced with mine. I quickly pulled them away before anybody could notice, and thankfully, they did not.

"Oi! A celebratory shot is in order, isn't it?!" George called from the kitchen counter, pouring a line of small glasses full to the brim. I smiled widely and skipped over to him. "I think you might be right on that, Geo!" I slumped over the counter and stared at the line of drinks. "Mm, husbands givin' ye a look, mate." George said under his breath. I turned around and looked for John's face amongst the crowd, and my drunken eyes would not focus enough to find him. "Ah, well!" I grabbed a glass and slammed it back, feeling a burn in my throat. I quickly set it down and grabbed another. I pointed this one up in the air over my head, gesturing with my head for George to grab one as well, and he did. "Fuck you, Jim!" I yelled as we clinked glasses. Everybody cheered, and we slammed the drinks back. It didn't take long for my stomach to flip, though. I could feel the drinks coming back up. "Bloody hell!" I yelped and pushed my way through my company, and ran for the loo.

I hugged the toilet and spilled all of the alcohol I'd drank out of my stomach. I felt a hand on my lower back, rubbing in circles. "Macca, I'm here... Right here, babe." John's voice soothed me. "People, they're.." I tried to tell him to get back to our company, but I was rudely interrupted by my stomach evacuating more alcohol.

"Shh, babe, I sent them home. S'just us."

...

The next morning I was completely and utterly fine. I expected a mean hangover due to the fact that the last thing I remembered was vomiting. But, I cleared my system and woke up even before John. I rolled over and saw his beautiful face. His auburn hair fell into his eyes, almost covering them completely. I brushed the hair out of his eyes, and thankfully, his eyes opened. Slowly, sure. But they opened. "How are you feelin'?" John asked as he stretched his arms up above his head. "Bloody great, surprisingly." I chuckled. He brought his arms down around me, and pulled me in, so our bare chests were touching. "Are you happy?" I asked, looking into his eyes, our noses nearly touching. "I'm very happy, Paul. Are you happy?" He asked, not breaking our gaze. "Yes, Johnny." I smiled, leaning in and pressing our lips together gently. "My my, Macca. Look at you now." John gave me a quick once over. "What do you mean?" I hid my face in his neck, feeling my cheeks go bright red.

"You grew..." John began, placing a quick kiss on my head. "Ye went through hell, and came out on the other side a stronger, better man. You're raising yer younger brother, y'know, and he's going to be such a great man. Ye allowed me to be here with ye along the way, and I gotta tell ya babe..." John stopped and positioned himself to look into my eyes again.

"This boy is glad."

#this boy #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction

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