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aintnouseofpretending · 5 years

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Uncool. University AU, Queen fan fiction. (John Deacon x Tomboy!Reader)

For now, it can be read as a one-shot—as it was originally intended. If someone is interested in this to continue, please let me know! 😊😊

Warning: Cursing, fluff, a bit slow burn?

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It's a fantastic drowse in the afternoon Sunday. Nothing beats hanging out with your friends, smoking, eating pizzas, and tuning to some heavy metal and rocks on the college parking lot; especially, after your midterm exam. It’s not much of being glad the torturing is over, more of you know you nail the exam after studying hard, like the usual. Feels awesome still. But just hanging out isn’t the reason you all here. There’ll be more headbanging later tonight, one of the local metal band is coming to shake the building; whilst waiting, you and your gang are enjoying the quality and fun times together.

“Yo, y/n!”

One of your male classmates came, bringing more foods and forcing three people you don’t know to carry it when both his hands are free.

“How’s it, Dave?” You return the greetings with a handshake and hug. “Care to introduce your new mates?”

Dave points at a girl with long brown hair and purple streaks. She wears black leather spiked jacket atop of her purple tank, complementing her style with tight leather pants and black ankle boots. She also wears thick makeup that makes her face says "fuck you" to anyone it greets. You like her already.

“Jess Gun, call her G. Music student. Jess, this is y/n, our top dog. Mech like most of us.”

“Take a piss, Dave.” But you still take the compliment as you give G a warm handshake.

“How’s it, y/n.”

Then Dave points at a tall and large man. The man proudly showed off his brand new tan, covered in tonnes of tattoos by wearing only thin black sleeveless graphic metal band tee. The common theme of the night; leather pants and black ankle boots. But he’s much more complete with spiked armbands, bracelet, and chain necklace.

“This is Charles C. C stands for Colossal.”

Not surprising that C carried the most out of their raids, so you stopped him when he tries to pass it somewhere or to someone just so he can give you a handshake. Dave tap C’s shoulder, told him to move, uncovering the next new dog for the pack. Someone you didn’t quite expect to look for tonight’s occasion.

“This is John Deacon, Mr D. Ace of the electrics.”

“Just call me, John.” Say the man calmly with a much softer voice. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too…” You return, quite astounded by his symmetrical, handsome, princely features.

For some passerby, it might look like Dave bullies John and force him to carry around his things. And that might be correct, John stands out the most in your group; with his plaid brown shirt, light blue jeans, and a black tight vest. His kind, friendly downturned eyes don’t help either. Feels like looking down at a small puppy as a big black alpha. But lo and behold, he’s also into some deafening and blaring as his past time. Wait, is he?

“Big fan of the Devil’s Fork?” You ask him a bit later after the foods he’s carrying was savaged by your friends.

“Haven’t heard them yet, so I’m not sure. What do you think?”

What begins as your attempt to unfold a bit of mystery surrounding him and following your weird instinct to protect the poor puppy; ends with you blabbering about your obsession over the band—their unique harmonies, intense riffs, and sick styles. You even just noticed that despite his looks that perfectly fit how Dave describes him, he joins you as you power through your Marlboro, leaving nothing for the night. And that was your last pack too.

“Mind continuing whilst we walk to store?” You ask him as you check for your funds. Enough for another pack.

“Okay.”

Nope. The band black van that's showing off their logo on the sides—a small gremlin-like devil holding an oversized red flamming fork in exaggerated art style,—just parked right next to your pick-up truck.

“Well, that’s unlucky.”

“I will run and buy a pack before the gig starts if you’d like.” He says, somehow a bit guilty.

“Nah, mate, I will collect these peasants’ tax. Getting us more of a selection till morning.”

“It's okay. I’m good for today.” He smiles.

From behind him, Dave slaps his shoulder and practically shake the man; he yelped in a very high pitch voice, almost make you burst out laughing. You didn't blame him when he hit Dave's shoulder in return.

“D warmed up to ya’ quick, y/n. As expected.” Dave let out a hearty laugh. “Not many can do that to him. Or maybe that’s because you two are our top rank dweller? Can finally speak in your higher-intelligent language?”

You jokingly kick Dave away and he joins, pretending to be running away from his life, as John—and some that overhear Dave’s remark—laugh at your shenanigan. You hope John didn’t notice you staring at him; amidst the chaos that is Dave munching some arse-whooping from you. You savoured his shockingly cute laugh and face. No. You wish it was forever, so you can admire him to your heart content…

Well, crap.

You just met and you’re crushing hard on him already?

Wouldn't be the first time.

It won’t last long like the others. You assure yourself, tangling your arm on his shoulder as if you’re his old friend. Understanding boundaries and someone else personal space were not one of your strong suits; you get in a whole lot of problems that turn things awkward, but you’ll exploit that fact to get even closer to John.

“But, Dave’s right. You’re gonna have fun with us. And with me, mate.” You say, confidently.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

When you think it’s not possible for a man to be any more charming and stunning, he proved you wrong by just smiling a bit wider.

“I will personally guarantee it.”

***

“Fuck my life.” You sighed after Deacy left your home. You practically let your body fall on the couch as you put your palm on your chest. “What the fuck is going on with me…”

It has been several months since you have attended the best college gig. The same day Dave introduces you to John. You did promise to give John a good time—and it’s a hell of a good time for you and your friends as well. Even John tell you to call him Deacy—or Deaky? He never wrote it down,—the privilege that was only given to you. That might also the reason why your crush now develops into actual feelings.

“Absolutely. Not because he comes here almost every day. All studying together, rocking to music, the fact he makes cool riffs, shred his guitar, and even taught me how to play them…”

You talked to yourself in an attempt to calm down. It works. Partially. You scratch your head furiously and rolled about. Angry that you knew you catch the feelings, but mind goes on thinking it was not a big deal, that it’ll soon be gone. Only when you fall down the couch face first, your decision was made; you will be upfront about it, you will show him your interest. Then, when he returns them warmly, you will do a sneak attack, and ask him to be your boyfriend! Perfect! Maybe then you’ll figure out your feelings more?

“Fuck the tradition.” You exclaimed as you get up. “Says who I can’t woo and pamper my man?”

And so you did. At first, it was very subtle; longer physical contact, purposeful stare, spending more time with him, wearing things he likes, giving him gifts that he likes, listening to even the most curious of his nonsense when he’s drunk. Then it escalates slowly but surely, you have constructed a plan to ask him out to places he likes; arcades, music shop, buy him movies ticket, buy him tickets to concerts. You never fail the dates. And of course, you’re getting even bolder to the point that hugs that used to make your body numb, head empty, heart pounding, feels much too normal now. Occasional holding hands after college or hanging out. Cuddling when watching movies at your house, in front of your friends, even.

But what about him? How does he react? Is it warm enough yet for you to ask him out? You can’t tell. There might be a slight change, but you really can’t see it. It’s always you that initiate physical contacts, even for just a hug. He asks you out to hang, but never to his house, or even special places; just for shopping, to cafes, arcades, library, something very casual. Almost every dates now you try to kiss him, and every time too, somehow, he deflected it as if you purposely closing your eyes and get your face close to him with your award-winning kissy face was just an accident.

“That happens by the end of every date!” You mutter to yourself, burying your face in your palms. “What the hell did I do wrong? Don’t make it clear enough? What do you think, G?”

G stares at you whilst chewing on her gum and smoke at the same time. Now it’s almost on every date too that you drag G and told her your tales of woe. Although you’re paying for her foods, you can clearly see that it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s fed up and well-fed—apparently, she gained a lot of weight because of you.

“Fucking tell him you love him.” Her words came out like venom. “Ask him to be your boyfriend. Stop being a fucking pussy about it. Don’t come to me again if you didn’t do what I said when he’s dating someone else.”

She’s right, you think. Either Deacy is extremely stupid—unlikely for an honour student that beats the crap out of you score wise, or you were never one of the options he wants and simply think your shameless boldness was because you are in fact have zero sense of personal space, and getting used to it fast. Or maybe you're the one that's a wee bit dumber than you thought about not being able to read the atmosphere well most of the times? No other choice but to find out which answer it is.

You’re trying hard to gather your courage, but now you’re still stuck, trying to solve other mysteries instead. As he stares at you, sitting on the other side of the table, eating a giant pile of expensive ice cream quite seriously. Waiting.

You asked him out to an ice cream cafe a week after your date with G, and G said when someone is happy, they tend to give more positive feedbacks, reactions, whatever; because you use that trick and charm her to fatten herself up. It most likely works on him too. Of course, it will be like normal hangout after class, you never miss a day when taking him to places, even if they might be just a small store. It’ll be a hundred per cent chance that he thought today will be normal like thousandth days before. The surprise factor might contribute.

Excellent.

But you’re running out of time; Deacy is powering through the ice cream like it was nothing. If you keep on failing, he might end up like G. Not that it'll affect your feelings towards him.

You took a deep breath.

“Deacy.”

“Yes?”

And there it goes all the courage you have collected for the past ten minutes. Shattered completely as he stopped the scooping mid-way to his mouth.

“See. That’s what happens when you let cats get into your mind. When your guard is lowered, thinking they’re just small creatures that can do you no harm; they took the chance and get your tongue.” He says, then continues eating.

“I am sorry, good sir. But I am willingly and consciously serve my tongue for their enjoyment. Speaks nothing but praise. And they’re very pleased, so they return it.”

He gave out a very monotone gasp.

“They’ve got my best friend under their control. I must go on a journey to find the materials so I can create the machine to reverse the effect of their alien-like ability.”

“She’s your best friend? How sweet, oh, puny mortal. But there’ll be a legion of our army that’ll stop you. By the time your machine is done, she’ll forever be gone. Nothing and no one can save her.”

"A hero will never give up. With the power of friendship, love, and bravery, I will not let anything stops me."

Usually, the odd banter lasts longer and gets weirder by the minutes, to the point that both of you forgot of what you two are previously doing or talking. But this time it doesn't work. What you expected was that you'll just magically drop the L-bomb in between the exchange. Instead, that thought makes you aware of the possibility and suddenly words were lost.

"Y/n? You okay?"

"Yeah. Things get progressively harder to overcome."

"Our made up stories, exam, or something else?"

"Something else."

"What is it?"

You're extremely frustrated by how easy it is to continue talking when it’s just jokes or normal trivial conversations. But when it comes to serious business, you suddenly have no power to speak...

Then you get an idea.

"I got a joke. Knock knock."

"Okay? Who's there?"

"Will you."

"Will you who?"

"Will you be my boyf—."

"There you are! Always leaving us with the dust! Not this time, mate!"

After the initial shock that quite visibly makes you—and Deacy—jumped, you immediately throw your spoons at Dave and his friends that suddenly came. Pouting and fidgeting in your seat in silent anger as they approach you.

“How’s it, mate?”

“Shove those spoons right up your arse!”

It makes you even angrier that no one seems to care about why you’re very angry being disturbed. Not even Deacy himself, as he joins the others and laughs at you and Dave’s yet another antic when you keep hitting him as he tries to sit next to you. You ended up sitting next to Deacy after kicking the other boys that previously sat there.

“That’s his fucking food. I paid it specifically only for him. Shoo!” You yell again at some of the boys that try to put their spoon in Deacy’s ice cream. Slapping them like flies. “The waitress is coming back, buy your own!”

“It’s okay. Do you want some too, y/n? You did pay for it.”

It’s pretty clear that Dave can’t stop staring at the both of you when Deacy keeps on feeding you ice cream before you can even say yes or no. There’s something in the metalhead's eyes that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. Though you did feel a little bad, he’s used to be the one that receives your attention the most, now you can’t even remember the last time both of you hang in a college gig.

“How long have you two been dating?” Dave asked, almost makes you jump in a surprise.

Deacy answered in lightning. “No no no. We’re not dating. I’m not sure we fit each other. I think I only pair with shy girls...”

There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you hear that. You stare at Deacy that’s not even giving you a side-glance after hearing such question. Does he even think about your relationship at all? It’s not even one year, wouldn’t that makes him question why you seem to not only clingy and protective of him, but also very forward? Or does he thinks that’s just how you really are?

“Not the first time you’re rejected like that huh.” Dave jokes.

“Go fuck yourself, David.”

You try your best to repress people’s laugh when they still think this is just the usual friend-insulting-friend jeer. But when you didn't join, the sounds quickly dies down, replaced with conversation and the sound of clanking. You want to change seat so bad; being too close with Deacy right now is very uncomfortable, after he straight up rejecting—well, softly saying he’s not into you. Eventually, you let the pang of pain in your heart submerged by the busy sounds of people talking, spoons clinking, and bustling streets as you play with your freshly ordered strawberry cheesecake. Never really a fan of sweet stuff, you think.

But I need it. Hell of a rejection.

One spoonful almost makes you cringe, but you chew them anyway, enjoying the sweetness in the now duller ambience. Has it always been this orange-ish brown in this cafe? Huh, this is the first time you noticed how warm this place feels. Maybe that’s why both you and Deacy always the frequent here. Whenever you are here with him, it’s always fun. Would it stay the same once your feeling is gone?

This one will go away too. Not the first time.

You hope it’ll be fast this time. Just another heartbreak. Not a big deal. You’ll move on, and Deacy will be like Dave, one of the lads that reject you from being a tad too tomboyish for their taste. You wonder will the next love ended up the same? You hope not.

***

“You look like shit.”

“No shit, mate.”

The gal just cut her hair short and now fully coloured it purple, as per your suggestion, and she looks great. C also think so and accepted G’s confession. You’re happy for them. Very happy. And wish that it’s just happy, and not incredibly envious feelings about her moving on fast from being rejected by Dave. Because of your misery from last rejection, that’s far before G is forcing you to start hooking her up with Dave. And right now G is about to celebrate her four months relationship with C.

That’s also why you are here. To cover G’s shift in the electronic shop G hook you in. As thanks for helping you get a job when you quit the car repair shop right after you see John flirts with one of the regular customer’s daughter. Cute girl, a wee bit younger, long blonde hair and blue eyes, always wear a bright coloured dress. Well, you have to admit, she’s very gorgeous. And one more thing; she does look like a perfect fit for Deacy. But that’s not what makes you immediately call the manager and formed your magnificent bullshit reason to quit. It was when she calls him Deacy.

“Hello?” G snapped her fingers again in front of you.

“What?”

“I’m going? But now I’m not sure that I should, with you like that taking care of the shop. You’re already on your second warning, y/n. Are you really okay if I leave?”

“Go on ahead, mate. C’s waiting.” You push her out the door. “I will be fine, it was just a couple hours. Worse case I will be zapped dead repairing Mrs Carla’s TV. Have fun!”

You purposely laugh out loud to make sure she buys your bullshit and didn’t stop until she’s out of the shop’s front. You slumped down a chair near the cashier and starts flipping the magazine you just bought; hopefully, it can kill the bore and the sadness. Alas, you bought a guitar magazine, and all you can think is now John. He invades your mind like he owns the place, jumped on the couch and start ordering you to listen on how important he is to your heart and soul. How you’re a queen that sits on a throne of liar for denying the truth that you missed him so much. This is the first time this happens. It was never like this, even with Dave—and you meet the dude almost everyday afterwards,—you moved on from him quick as lightning. But why? Why with Deacy—John?

What the fuck is going on with me?

It’s the same question you asked when you first realised how deep you have fallen for him. And then he rejected you softly, you try to drift a bit apart from him so you can move on and swoon on someone else. A cooler dude, perhaps, that’s just as cute, and as awesome as John when he shreds his guitar. But that never happened. You keep on staring at John and only John. His laugh always makes your heart warmer. A simple gesture like when he asks you out and helps you carry your project to the cafe. It’s not only the good, but the bad part also happens; you’re now very much aware when John uses his softer tone whilst talking to another girl, or how kind he is with them. He might just be friends with them, but it pains you so much to see it. Then you start making more distance, hanging more with your old pack. But then the arsehole Dave says that he saw John hang with this one particularly pretty redhead from another college.

“She’s all shy and cute. They look like a real couple, you know. But when you and D’s hang, you look like you’re bullying him.”

“Piss off, Dave.”

And that might be true. You always force yourself on him. Drags him places. What if all this time he’s saying yes not because he likes spending time with you? That he just doesn’t want to hurt you if he says no? You did say you are bad at reading people and knowing what the hell is going on sometimes. It is almost a year you slowly stopped hanging with John, and not once did John approach you, nor did many—which is a lot—of your mutuals mention John’s looking for you. Even worse, the one time they mention John, it’ll always be about him having a new girl holding hands with him. Maybe all this time you are just delusional?

Even so, you have tried your darndest to forget about him since his rejection. You tell your friends about your sadness—G, mostly, poor her—it doesn’t work. You try to pour it in form of letters and later burn them. As the fire is ablaze, so is your love towards him, so that also doesn’t work. C suggest you to make it into a poem, he said it helps him, he even sang them in gigs and people loves it. And you do it—not the sing in front of people part, just the poem. It’s still a fruitless effort. And your score took the brunt of it. You have been nothing but stressed, even more so knowing the final exam is near. You haven’t been studying.

“Good work today.” Say your coworker. “You know, if you’re sick, you should just tell Gun you can’t cover her shift.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been on autopilot.” Yet another bullshit excuse. “Exam, you know. But I will manage. Thanks for worrying about me.”

“I don’t. But getting you fired when we have many stuff still needs fixing is like shooting oneself in the foot.”

“Aw, geez, May, I’m fine! Don’t kill yourself worried like that!” You slap the lanky man’s shoulder. Damn, he’s tall. “If you keep it up like that, I might fall for you, and that might be a problem.”

“How so?” He challenges.

“One man making me miserable is enough. I can’t have you rejecting me as well. This lady only has one heart after all.”

He fell silent. Whoops, your jokes might go too far, or he simply couldn’t care less. But as you grab your jacket and get ready to be sorrowful again on your way home, May joins you.

“Going to the store?” He asks awkwardly. “You know, all that smokes will kill you someday.”

“It can’t come any sooner.” You joke again as you puff one. “I mean, sure, if you meant by the store is my house as well, you’re very much welcome, mate. Need some witness for my pity party.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, y/l/n. Don’t just give up on love just because of several guys happens to see less agressi—more composed girls.”

“Hah. At least you admit they're not up for the adventure. You’re right, they’re missing out big time; when I am committed to someone, I will love them with the entirety of it. But well, maybe that’s why I’m so bloody depressed right now.”

He looked at you softly. His hands are twitching, but then he put it in his pockets.

“You’ll find there are many men in your life that’s close to you, and the right one for you might just be around the corner.”

“He can’t come any sooner.”

The walk is a bit uneventful from that onwards, just a bit of conversation. You thought he was just bitter and hates fun—the way G describes him, but he’s cool. He knows a couple of good rock and metal bands, attended some, in fact, which makes you a bit curious whether you have met him before or not. Although you thank Brian May for making you forget about John even just for a bit by promising to buy him tea one day and in the end he tells you good luck on your exam. And, hmm, he's a bit cute? And you particularly like his kinky hair.

But as you arrive home, in an instant, your head and heart instantly switches back on thinking and feeling your love for John. The room is cold and empty. How you wish, somehow, John was here, waiting for you as he makes you both teas. Last year, today will be a horror movie night. You’ll play the guitar together, or some scribble, or heck, you’re close with final exam, both of you would most likely studying right now. You will bring home cheesecake from keeping him waiting.

And I did.

It is just a an empty wish for him will be here as impossible it is. But you still bought home two cheesecakes when you can’t even finish one. It was one of his favourite food. It’s too sweet for you, but you will gladly eat one with him. Now what should you do with two cheesecake? Call Dave to come? He used to be in John’s place after all, but it was a very long time ago. May? Even for someone as shamelessly bold as you, you know that’s a bad idea. Or maybe not?

But why? Why can’t I just be alone?

Because you know why, yet you dare not admit how much you miss John. How much you love him. Tears start welling up on your eyes. You know why you can’t forget about him; all the smallest hints that reminded you of him is everywhere. Cheesecakes, cafes, electronics, your house, horror movies, studying... And the acoustic guitar that you bought specifically so he can teach you how to play it, the more excuse for you to invite him to your house. Without you even realised, you grab the guitar and you sit on the terrace. Then you sing. Sing to your heart content. You don’t care how ear wrenching it is to listen to your own voice that breaks everywhere, and not to mention false. But you keep on singing and strumming the guitar with the only notes you’ve learnt. You wish to scream to your heart content.

I have suffered, but the love stays. If I can’t forget, then please, please, allow me to cherish my dreams. For without it I might die. For without it, for without him; I have no more reason to live.

“Please... I still love him... I missed him... I—.”

You are wide-eyed when you see a dark figure standing on the street, facing you. Maybe it’s just someone a bit disturbed and/or petrified by your awful symphony. But, no. It has to be him. Just as wide-eyed as you. Perhaps he has been that way? Or maybe you both spooked each other? Has he been there the whole time? Watching your dramatic blue moment; the snots and tears, voice cracks, and shit guitar skill?

Fantastic. He’s head over heels from the sight.

You wiped your tears with your t-shirt as you put down the guitar. The man is still there, and so you approach him, pretended nothing happened. You always know how to deflect with jokes, so you’re confident.

“O-oh, hi, John. What you got there?”

Not so confident... As you get closer, you can see his appearance clearer; even more handsome than the one in your mind. He wears that particular worn out button up shirt that you bought him as his birthday present long ago, the same dark blue jeans he wore the night you two met, and his school bag. But what caused you to ask is the same carton bag you get when you bought the two cheesecakes just now.

“How’s it?” You ask again, find it a bit rude not asking it after a long time no see. But you say it as you reach the carton bag. He pulled it away slightly from your hand.

“I’m... Good. How are you? Are you alright?”

“Where have you been, D? Don’t get a final exam in your college? Lucky.”

“Ah, every engineering students’ wet dream.” He joins. “It wouldn’t be counted as lucky. My college is on the planet Mercury.”

“Shame. I could not wish more than for your college to give you lots of exams once you get back. But, surely you have seen me. Undoubtedly, a human like me can’t resist the fiery passion, just like everyone else, when it comes to the final exam.”

“I don’t think it’ll be much of a blazing flame for the two of us.” He says as he hides the carton bag behind his back, forcing you to face him.

“Oh, absolutely not! Who ugly cries and screamed like a dying cat that actually is fine from the inside? They do. But certainly not me, excuse me for doing it ironically. How about you, fine sir?” You raised your hands in frustration and also to add to your dramatic statement, at the same time, distancing yourself away from him. Your heart is pounding like mad being that close.

“What happened, y/n? Are you really okay? I haven’t seen you for so long, it’s very worrying.”

“Oh, it’s a perfectly adequate! I have a crush on you, it turned serious. Ask you out, invade your personal space. Turns out I’m not your type. You know, blah blah blah, the common gossip. Now, what you got there? Cake? If it’s not for someone else, might I have it? To be honest, I am very hungry.”

There’s a small victory noise you make when you catch the bag and stole it from him. But as you check what’s inside, you take a peek at him only to find him covering his mouth with his hand; his face is bright red, eyes smiling, and eyebrows sky-high on his forehead. You feel as if your entire being is a firework, blasting through the air and exploding in bright colours when you realise why he’s like that.

“E-exam fried your brain, mate. Your sarcasm detector is rusty.” You say, try not to be too happy; you might be wrong.

“Most definitely. And I will just let you insult your way out of your own fake confession, you know, like a cunt that I am. To keep deflecting your obvious and incredible attempt at seducing a man. Thinking I was too uncool to be your boyfriend. You’re right, just another common fucking gossip.”

Now, you’re actually blasting off. You jumped in surprise when he yells that. He never yelled at you; hell, you never hear him raise his voice, even though he curses a lot too sometimes. But this time he full-blown raise his voice to almost the screaming level, especially when the colour of his face could match a ripe tomato, showing a very visible sign that he’s angry you still can joke about it. About your feelings.

But no words were uttered after that; you’re a silent statue, cheeks red, eyes wide, mouth’s open. Whilst he twiddles about, walking, trying to find something as he covers his mouth still, calming himself down. Hoping there’s a shovel he could use to dig himself a grave. Both of your heart is about to detonate, but you’re used to it at this point.

“Mate, if you’re not serious, know there’ll be consequences. And you wouldn’t like it.” You say with gritted teeth; from holding back your almost spilt feelings of joy.

He takes a quick step towards you, it’s also very clear he’s holding back his smile. He retorts out of habit; “what sort of punishment awaits me if I’m guilty your honour?”

In an instant, you grab his hips and get you body practically touches his; feeling his chest raise and fall, and his heart that’s beating also has hard as yours. You screamed in your mind for not thinking, and now you feel like passing out from the blood that’s rushing to your head.

“I will crush you and kill you with my love, and hugs, and kisses, and cuddles—everything. Don’t make me buy us engagement rings. So, until you plead guilty; that you are absolutely serious.”

John can no longer hold his smile. His eyes’ basically twinkling stars. Cheeks pinkier than the electronic store’s neon sign.

“Then I plead guilty.”

He cupped your cheeks and pushes his lips on yours. You closed your eyes, savouring the sweet taste of his mouth—it taste like cheesecake! He ate one before you that bastard! You punishes him by not letting him let go to breath. After couple more seconds that you wish were forever, you finally part lips.

“You are a demon!” He exclaimed, voice breaking as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. But he’s smiling wide.

“Oh you have no idea, and in fact, I could show you more if you’d like?” You say cheekily as you encircle him like a hungry shark.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“I will personally guarantee it.”

And you both smiled as your hand's links.

End (?).

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Omfg, it’s been long time since I write a reader-insert fan fiction, so writing this kinda makes me blush, especially at the end 😳😳😳😵😵

I really hope you enjoy it! There’s a big potential for this particular Tomboy!Reader’s story to be broadened into a serial, although I’m not sure if I can do it now since I have to study for final exam. But if anyone want to know about it, please let me know! 😉

One more thing! Feel free to request imagines or one-shots! :D

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