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potatomountain · 3 months

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Pairing: Song Mingi x afab reader

Word Count: 3800

Warnings: cursing, smut, one night stand

Genre: enemies to lovers, one night stand

Summary: Public parties weren't your thing but for your best friend you could tolerate a dance club- even go home with someone for the night. Mingi was determined to make sure that was him, and after a little push from a hot stranger, you decided just for tonight you would give him a shot.

A/N: This was my third attempt, as I first tried a mingi/yeosang x reader enemies to lovers but i adore them as sweet beans too much so i stuck with the best puppy boy- Song Mingi. This is for you @mingsolo as you were right to put me on the suspect list as your secret admirer lol. Please melt like I did <3 Thanks!!!

This was done as a network event for @pirateeznet

People do anything for their best friends, including putting up with their boyfriend’s douchebag friends. You swore up and down that you were going to have a good time tonight even if that meant being nice to the other half of the partygoers.

It was your best friend’s birthday, and of course she wanted to spend it with her boyfriend of a year now, Wooyoung. Both of them were hyper and outgoing, and so into each other it was almost nauseating. You were what she called the scary dog friend with resting bitch face until you liked someone. That was all you were to Wooyoung’s friends, but he still wanted you there at the party he planned.

Party at a dance club, which also wasn’t your thing- but it was hers. You did your best to make the most of it however, dressed to the nines and intent of having a good night. If that meant getting somewhat wasted and fucking a stranger then so be it.

Now if only the thorn in your side, Song Mingi, would let you do just that. Your friend would swear up and down that he was a good guy, that he was sweet, but considering your few interactions with him, his very presence left a bad taste in your mouth. And by the sneers he often gave you, the feeling was mutual. Somehow, for some reason, he had made it his mission to see your plan for the night fail.

Every man you found yourself dancing with or flirting with, Mingi was right there, butting his nose in and saying something that would scare the man off. Weird habits, or just spouting some obscene lie about you that had the man running off.

Three or four drinks in, and quite the cutie was chatting it up with you at the bar. Slight aussie accent, tattoos, open shirt- you were more than a little interested. But of course the tall man in his red cap slipped into the seat next to you, leaning in a bit closer and grabbing your drink out of your hands. Shocked, you watched him sniff your drink before taking a sip, your jaw dropping. “Mingi!” “That’s my name.” Licking his lips he handed you back the drink, giving the man in front of you side eye. “Newest conquest?” Scoffing, you pushed him away. “Seriously? Can I not have a chat with a hot guy in peace? Is it really your intent to ruin my night?” You offered the tatted dreamboat a smile, hoping he wouldn’t run off like the rest. “Sorry about him, he’s a friend of a friend please don’t pay him no mind.” He and Mingi seemed to look each other over before he got comfortable again, pointing to your glass. “Let me get you a new one then and we can continue our conversation? Or we can talk about your ‘hot guy’ comment?” With a smirk he waved the bartender over, leaving you a little flustered. You had said that in the moment, too heated about Mingi’s constant interruptions.

Apparently it worked in your favor as you handed your current drink over to Mingi. “You can have this now. Go away.” You attempted to shoo him but he didn’t budge, instead pouting out his thick bottom lip and watching you from under the cap. “What?” “You really are insisting on this?” He muttered out while the other was busy with the bartender.

You didn’t get why he was being pouty about this, every time the two of you interacted it became some playful and childish argument. You couldn’t think of any reason why he would have any interest in you. And your only interest in him had been that he was attractive. Sharp eyes, pouty lips, deep voice… You shook your head and sneered your upper lip at him. “What I do is none of your business Mingi. Why don’t you go find someone to take home for tonight?”

Mingi stared you down, lips parting and shutting several times before he sighed and looked away. “I mean, I can always leave you two alone?” The aussie accent drew your attention back to the hottie that was your target. “This doesn’t exactly look like just a friend of a friend.” He still offered the new drink and you took it, downing it rather quickly.

“That’s all he is. But if he keeps this up he’s going to be a thorn in my side as well.” You made an effort to avoid Mingi now, leaning against the bar top and towards the man that really was drool worthy. Why hadn’t he run off yet? With Mingi acting like this? Instead he laughed, watching Mingi sulk off over the brim of his own drink. “I think you hurt his feelings.” “So? He’s trying to ruin my night.” “Or make it a good one for you?”

“And how would he be doing that if he is chasing off, on purpose, any guy I have even a little bit of interest in, hm?” You rolled your eyes before finishing the last bit of your drink, the buzz going right to your head. Mingi’s constant interference had sobered you up on more than one occasion, and the little bit of a buzz you had before had been chased away. Now you were eager to chase it again and just feel good for the night.

Christian widened his smirk, looking you over through hooded eyes before glancing over your shoulder. “So that he stands a chance of being the one to go home with you tonight.” You nearly spit out your drink, blinking up at him with evident shock. “Excuse me?”

“I mean no guy likes watching the girl they have a crush on fawn and attempt to jump on other strangers’ dicks. I’m perfectly happy being that dick by the way, but I also think you should give the poor guy a chance.” Setting his drink down, he pulled out his phone and held it out to you. “How about, you give me your number but tonight you try him out for size? If it doesn’t work, shoot me a text and I can take you out on a date. But if it does, well still text me because now I’m invested.”

Flabbergasted, you could only laugh. “You’re crazy, why would I want to sleep with him?” You still found yourself putting your number in his cell and texting your phone from his to get his number as well.

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat and bringing his drink up to his lips. “You find me attractive, so I’d say look wise he is your type. Don’t blame you either. Besides, ever had a hate fuck? Some intense shit right there, highly recommend at least one in your life.” You turned in your seat to look over Mingi once more, taking note of the way he idly danced to the music that was louder on the floor where he was. Some of his friends were nearby, Yunho having draped an arm around him and seemed to be trying to talk to him or get him out of the pout. You couldn’t deny that he had a point- several points.

“Fine. We’ll see if you’re right. Don’t go anywhere.” Setting your empty glass down you got up, making your way down the few steps to the dance floor and right towards the two towers. Yunho spotted you first, grinning as he nudged his friend a bit in your direction, saying something too quiet for you to hear. Not that you cared, not when the moment you locked eyes with Mingi your chest felt warmer.

You blamed it on the alcohol.

“You happy now?!” You yelled so he could hear you, putting your hands on your hips. “Since you keep chasing away the guys, I don't have anyone to dance with. You can take responsibility for that now.”

You tried to ignore the way his boyish grin had your cheeks feeling hot, as well as the cheers from Yunho and your best friend a bit deeper in the swarm of bodies who you hadn't realized had been watching or could hear you. It had you questioning a lot.

Not that you had a moment to process or ask, as Mingi was placing his hands on your waist and stopping all other thoughts. “I'll be your dance partner for tonight then.”

Well shit, was he right about Mingi? Did the brat have a crush on you?

Better yet… Did you really like that idea?

With a smirk you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back into the swarm of bodies and away from his friends. He didn’t seem to care, entranced by you only. Now that he wasn’t being a thorn in your side, instead pressing into your side, you had to admit he was hella fine. And you would definitely enjoy a little hate fuck with him.

You let the music guide your body, moving it against his and turning in his grasp so your ass was against his thighs. You could feel him, the tight and slim waist under the white shirt, the designer blue and white jeans. He had looked like a fuckboy tonight and here you were, planning to test just how much of one he was.

Damn, you fell quick.

Out of simple curiosity you looked up, right at the bar on the raised landing to find the man who had pushed you to do this. He was leaning back against the bartop, watching you both with a smirk that widened when you locked eyes. As if to tease you, he grabbed the junction in his pants, giving a squeeze before pointing at Mingi behind you. Mingi who had dipped his head into the crook of your neck, his breath hot on your exposed skin and his hand splayed over your lower abdomen and holding your smaller body back against his.

Fuck you were enjoying this, enjoying his attention and touch and Christian could definitely see that. He was even laughing a bit, mouthing ‘I told you so.’

You mouthed back ‘fuck you’ only for him to grab at his dick again.

As if sensing he didn’t have your full attention, Mingi’s hold on you tightened, lips ghosting against your flesh. “I thought I chased him away?”

“Ah Mingi, were you really jealous all this time?” You couldn’t help but tease, body swaying against his to the music, purposely rubbing your ass against his thigh.

He hissed out, bringing his lips to your ear. “I just wanted to be an option, pretty girl.”

Your head rolled to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you tore your eyes away from Christian. He wasn’t your target tonight and damn, Mingi was making you really glad that you had listened to the hottie at the bar. “You’re an option now. Just for tonight, so make it count Mingi.”

“Fuck. Come home with me now? Like right now and I’ll make it a night you won’t forget.” He whispered in your ear, lips brushing the shell and hot breath on your neck causing you to shiver.

How could you tell him no when he was practically begging and rolling his body against yours to the point you could clearly feel his excitement against your lower back? Glancing over at your best friend, you caught her watching with a smug grin. Fine then, you knew when to give in. “Are you sober enough to drive?”

“Had only one- grab your shit I’ll meet you outside?” He mumbled, pulling away reluctantly, his hand sliding down to your ass and giving a quick squeeze before he did.

“Don’t make me regret this.” You huffed out, heading to the lounge area you had left your small bag at with the two of the friend group that wasn’t keen on dancing for the night. They were chatting away, paying you no mind as you grabbed your bag. Sure you talked as if you were doing Mingi a favor but you couldn’t deny how wet you were and just from dancing to three or four songs with him.

How he managed to make you even more wet from just his hand on your thigh while he drove was also beyond you. He barely talked, focused on the road with one hand on the wheel and both tense as he sped within limits. The anticipation was almost too much and you were tempted to whine.

That was the only touch until you were behind closed doors. “Wait, don't you live with some of your friends?” It dawned on you when you noticed several items that you were sure weren’t his. “They’ll find somewhere else for the night.” He kicked his shoes off, turning to lift you up before you had a chance to take your heels off. “Keep them on for now.” You lifted a brow and held onto his broad shoulders, unable to see his expression from this angle because of the cap. “Suit yourself. Your room then? I am eager to see how you’ll win me over Song Mingi.”

“Mmm you’ll see soon, princess.” He carried you down the hall, not giving you much of an option of taking in your surroundings. Not that you cared, not when you could feel his lips on the exposed skin of your chest, dipping into the valley of your breasts and breathing you in. “So soft, I could drown myself in you.”

You wondered if he had more alcohol than you to drink with how blunt he was being, or perhaps you were just easily flustered at the moment. You hadn’t even thought of Mingi in this way or would’ve given him a chance if it hadn’t been pointed out and now you were kicking yourself for not thinking about it sooner. When his lips worshiped your skin and his hands were kneading the flesh of your ass as he carried you into his room.

If you thought there were sparks before, it was full blown fireworks in your stomach when he tilted his head back and kissed you. He was a little messy, but not in a bad way. You felt like he was devouring you, laying you back on the bed as you took his hat off and tossed it aside so you could have him closer. “Mingi~”

“Yes Princess?”

“Too many clothes- get them off.” You all but demanded, yanking at his shirt as he pulled away from your body.

He made a sound of agreement in the back of his throat as he quickly made work of your clothes and his shirt. But even with the clothes gone, his hands still worshiped every part of your body. Your sides, stomach, hips and thighs before he pushed them open, licking his lips at the sight of your drenched pussy. “Oh that looks fucking delicious- you don’t mind if I have a taste do you?”

He was already leaning in before you could answer, instead gasping out at the small kitten lick he gave your folds. With a low moan he buried his face against your cunt, lips and tongue making quick work of licking up your arousal and rubbing his nose against your clit. He hitched your legs over his shoulders, your heels a heavy weight on his back as he went. Fuck he knew how to use his tongue, eating you like a starved man with his favorite treat.

Your head rolled back as pleasure assaulted your senses, breathing hitching and hands gripping at the sheets next to you. “S-shit Min- if you keep that up-” You broke off on a loud moan as his lips latched onto your clit and he sucked, making your head spin with electricity. He seemed intent on driving you to and orgasm, lips switching from your clit back to tongue fucking your pussy, back and forth, playing you like an instrument he was well familiar with.

So really you shouldn't be that shocked when he pulled a climax out of you that had you soaking his mouth and shaking against his sheets after several moments of bringing you to the peak before driving you over it. He didn’t pull away, making deep guttural sounds against your cunt as he licked up every drop he possible could while not overstimulating your bundle of nerves. You had to tug him off though, trying to catch your breath and see the dim room normally and not in a post-orgasmic haze.

“Still think you are going to regret it? Calling out for me like that?” He grumbled against your inner thigh, leaving a soft trail of love bites before he stood up.

“Fuck you.” You lashed out, pushing yourself up on your elbows and watching him through your lashes.

“You’re doing that already Princess.” He hummed out with a cocky smirk, pulling his jeans down with his boxers and letting his fat cock spring free, slapping against his abdomen and smearing a little bit of precum in the process. “Let me get a condom first, no matter how amazing I’m sure your pussy feels raw.” Stepping out of his clothes and over to his nightstand. While he rummaged for the condom, you pushed yourself up onto your knees, kicking off your shoes now.

You couldn’t lie, you were eager for him, unable to tear your eyes off of his dick as he rolled the condom on, but you were also determined not to be outdone. “You were the one so fucking eager to fuck me you purposely chased away all the dick that I wanted.” You pointed out, patting the bed and demanding he lay down.

He seemed a bit flustered as he laid down, leaning on his elbows and watching you swing your leg over his hips. “Was I really that obvious?” “I just thought you were being an annoying prick.” Rolling your hips to drag your cunt against the condom, you observed his reaction.

Mingi couldn’t even look at you, his eyes trained on your cunt teasing him, biting down on his lip as he clearly enjoyed it. “What gave me away?” With a smirk, you reached between you and held him still at your entrance, teasing him with the prospect of sliding into you but not yet giving it. “Christian did. Even told me if you left me disappointed he would take me on a date.”

His eyes flashed up to yours, anger and jealousy so obvious now. “You’ll have to tell him it's no deal then.” Gripping the bed, he thrust up, burying his full length into you. His hands flew to your hips to hold you still as he rammed up again, and again, not giving you a chance to speak. “I’ll leave you so fucking satisfied you won’t remember his name.”

With the way he filled you up, and how deep he hit in your womb, for a moment you thought he could actually do it. For a moment, he did. He stretched you out so perfectly, hitting every part of you with his big cock that you were a moaning mess and could only think of how good it felt. And how good he looked beneath you like this.

Your hips slammed down to meet each thrust as you held onto his arms, pride swelling in your chest at his own parted and drooling lips. You weren’t going to be the only one so fucked out you couldn’t remember anything else. Intent on driving him just as crazy, you pulled his hands off him and pinned them to his sides, rolling your hips as you leaned forward and letting out a pornagraphic moan as he hit deeper. “Oh fuck- Mingi~” “Feels s’good Princess. Fuck fuck fuck~” His head fell back as he let you have control, brows pushed together as he desperately tried to meet your hips. “Ah… fuck… mm~ s’good…”

“Was it worth the wait Pretty Boy? This fucking cunt you were drooling over?” You panted out between moans, forcing yourself to stay focused on his expression because it was fucking hot.

He nodded, gripping your ass and digging his nails in as you two fucked each other. When he moaned, like a desperate and deep whine, you clenched down around him, so close. You wanted to tell him, but his desperation grew until you were the one just getting fucked dumb on his cock. Head rolling forward and hands on either side of his head, you tried to look down between you two to watch his cock disappear into cunt with each desperate and rough thrust, the sounds of wet skin just adding to the cacophony of sounds filling the room.

It was also so much better to hear him beg for you to cum with him. “Please please- cream on my cock baby, want to feel it. S’good already, give me more.” With a broken whine, you could tell he was close.

That was all you needed to do to come undone, forehead resting against his chest and drool escaping your parted lips as you shook from the force you soaked his cock. Your head actually spun with how intense it was, vision blurry and the only thing you could process was his hot cum filling up the condom inside you, so deep you felt full.

You collapsed fully on him when he became a puddle beneath you, both of you sweaty and chests heaving in their effort to get more air. You settled in your orgasmic bliss, letting the high fade until the puddle of drool you left on his chest began to irritate your cheek. So you were the first to move, sitting up weakening and letting out a soft whimper when his softening cock moved inside you. “Gotta clean up pretty boy-”

“I know- get you some water, rest for a second…” He opened his eyes and looked up at you, full lips pulling into a smirk. “Get you ready for the next round.” You didn’t fight off the blush this time, giving his chest a playful slap before pulling off completely. “Who says I want a second round?”

“Mmmh, I do. You’re not screaming my name yet.” He sat up and pulled you back against him, kissing your shoulder in a gentle contrast to his rough hold. “Sit on my face this time. In fact, I want to eat you out until I come untouched. You taste so good I think I can. Want to test that?” Trying to hide the grin that couldn’t help itself, you nodded. “You’re on.” That date idea no longer seemed like a fun idea- not when presented with options just like that.

Just one night? Debatable.

#pirateadmirer #pirateeznet #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi #mingi #mingi x y/n #mingi x you #for Isa <3

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storiesofsvu · 5 months

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Solace in Solitude Ch 7

Eventual Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, nicotine and weed consumption, mentions of trauma/death, nightmares & anxiety. Yup!! She is back y'all!! Let's just say I got very bored of writing for bingo, things are not very Christmasey around here so I decided to try and finish this entire thing by New Year's. Now, i doubt that'll happen, but i'm still aiming for a chapter per day meaning 4-5 more chapters by NYE which honestly is just under what I have planned for this series. I wanted this one to be better, I can't lie, but in the new year we will move on to a new series and it will be wonderful! Happy Holidays!!

Emily kept her braids in until the next time her hair needed to be washed, if you had said anything she would say it was purely out of convenience and nothing else. But she knew that she actually liked it, she felt as if a new style was something that would help her move on to a new phase of life, not to mention you were a wizard when it came to braiding her slowly growing bangs into the braids and keeping them off her face. A new, different look was her way of leaning into Valerie, making herself more comfortable with the idea of everything and sticking around Paris while she waited for it to all come to an end.

She finally had enough energy to get out of the apartment, making it down the block to the corner store to pick up a few things. You’d been working later and longer hours, mentioning something about picking up a new research project in passing one day (that or you were hiding at the hospital, she wasn’t entirely sure). Thanks to that, things around the apartment had started to get a little on the lacking side when it came to chores. Emily didn’t mind, she spent most of the time in her room anyway and she could always get food delivered. But she did feel a bit bad if she wasn’t contributing at all, especially considering the last time she washed her hair you wordlessly braided it without her even having to ask.

So she’d began using her daily out of the house walks to not only get some more energy and strength back, but to pick up a few things for the apartment. Some days it was food, others coffee and she’d taken up the habit of replacing the flowers in the living room whenever they started to wilt. It was another small change in her routine that was helping her feel more human once again and she was finally starting to get comfortable being outside and not being completely on edge the entire time. She used the time to start upping her profiling skills again, the city streets of Paris the perfect place to grab a cup of coffee and people watch. She didn’t really care if she was correct with her hypothesises, it got her brain working again and she felt bad whenever she caught herself profiling you at home.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t tell that you were getting more tired with each day that went by, mentally drained by living the life you hadn’t chosen. She knew that one all too well at this point. So she did her best to keep the apartment in order without overworking herself and keeping out of your way, which in the long run was benefitting her too.

Currently Emily was out on the balcony, her usual home for the time in the evenings when you overlapped and her second favourite place to people watch from. The sun had already began its decent, the sky painted with colours of teal and purple when she heard the door open and shut inside the apartment. Her eyes flicked to the cigarette in her hand, wondering if she should stub it out before you saw it but figured she was already ratted out by the scent wafting through the air, not to mention the half pack of butts in the ash tray. She took another drag of it, watching a family of three on the street below her, the girl in between her parents, a hand holding each of them as she skipped her way down the sidewalk and her lips curved up into a brief grin. The thought of setting out on a nice family adventure on a Friday night, her imagination took hold, ideas flowing through her brain about the multitude of places they could be headed.

She was broken out of the daydream by the sound of you quite literally kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag into your room. The tell tale sign of what she first thought was the fridge opening, the sound of ice cubes being dumped into a glass proving her wrong, that you’d gone for the freezer instead, the glug of the high end bourbon you’d stashed in the pantry flowing into her ears next. She thought the next sound would be the closing of your bedroom door as you disappeared for the night and nearly jumped when you stepped out onto the balcony beside her, swiping the back of cigarettes from the small table. It happened so fast she couldn’t even let out a noise of objection before you spoke, snagging the lit cigarette from practically between her lips.

“Give me that.” You muttered.

“I- hey!” She groaned, her brow furrowing when she looked up at you to find you using her smoke to light your own, the pack already back on the table.

Before she could fully process what was going on her cigarette was back between her fingers and you were dropping into the empty chair, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you sunk even deeper into it. She let silence overtake the balcony so you could use the time to decompress, shift from your doctor self into your home self and no doubt relax a little bit. She finished her smoke, stubbing it out in the ash tray not long after you’d lit yours. She debated going back inside but felt like her skin was still itching, desperate for more nicotine so without even glancing in your direction she picked up the pack, pulling the lighter from her pocket to light a second one while she prepared for the nagging she was about to receive. Instead you simply took another drag, shoulders sagging as smoke slipped from your lips into the cooling night air.

“Nothing, really?” She couldn’t help herself, nearly laughing as she pocketed the lighter, “I thought you of all people would be coming out here to lecture me about the dangers of smoking.”

You let out a scoff of a laugh, “it’s fucking France, everyone smokes.” Your eyes flicked down to the ash tray and your lips curved into a frown, “I won’t lecture you but you might wanna slow down on how many you have per day.”

“Not exactly like I have much else to do.”

“Yeah well, find a hobby or something.” You took another drag, “there’s a bakery two streets over with the best stuff in the city. You could make your walks longer.”

“Hmm.” Emily replied, the acknowledgement that she had been leaving the house and helping out was all either of you needed to discuss on the matter. You weren’t in the mood to be the rule maker right now, that was very clear.

Silence took over the balcony once more and as much as she didn’t mean to, Emily’s eyes flickered over to you, examining your body language, her profiler gears turning. You looked even more mentally tired than you had the last time she’d seen you, not that there were bags under your eyes, but the look of utmost defeat within them. You sunk down so deep into the chair, pulling your legs up into it, curling around yourself as if to protect yourself from the outside world. Your gaze lingered on the skyline, not daring to dart down to the street where people occasionally milled below and every drag of the cigarette between your fingers was long, deep, like someone who desperately needed a more intense vice they hadn’t indulged in in years.

“Rough day?” She finally asked, her voice soft, quiet enough you could ignore it if you wanted to.

“Yeah.” You replied, flicking the ash off your smoke while you glanced down, sighing heavily. “Lost a patient.” Emily watched as your staring contest with the sky ended and your eyes flitted through the street beneath you, “little girl, couldn’t have been more than eight. Came in ‘cause she fell off her bike, complaining of arm pain, admitting doctor said she was wearing a helmet and the initial exam was clear. She was alert, talkative, just the cutest fucking thing, reminded me a lot of my sister at that age. We figured it was a broken arm and were waiting for the x-ray line up to clear up to confirm.” You took a heavy breath, a long drag of your smoke and Emily knew the twist was coming, “turned out the Dad was lying to Mom about the helmet, he didn’t want to get in trouble for not enforcing the rules, thought it didn’t matter that the poor girl bonked her head. We didn’t catch the brain bleed in time…” You trailed off, your eyes glassy as they returned to the sky.

“I’m so sorry…” Emily whispered and you shook your head,

“A family doesn’t come back from that. Guilt’ll eat you alive, Mom’ll likely never forgive Dad, he’ll go insane trying to right a wrong he can’t fix.”

“Can only hope he takes it out on himself and not someone else.” She muttered, shaking her own head and she instantly felt your eyes on her.

“You see a lot of that in your line of work?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” She sighed, “something like today would be a stressor, it builds up higher and higher, fucks with your brain until you can’t take it anymore and it just sparks an explosion. He’s never gonna be able to look at another little girl on a bike again. He’ll see parents who let their kids ride without helmets as unfit, villains, could start lashing out towards them, likely verbally at first before a trigger hits. Could be divorce papers, could be the family ostracizing him, one month, six month, one year anniversary of her death, then he loses it…”

“Mmm.” In any other situation you would have been impressed by the way her brain worked, but right now all you were consumed by was grief, a weak laugh escaping through your lips as you should your head, “god we’re depressing.”

“At least you don’t have to sleep during the day.” She muttered and you let out a small laugh.

“We can adjust your meds again.” You replied before you glanced down to your smoke, your head titling before you looked up at Emily, “though there is something else we haven’t tried…. I mean, we’re already smoking.”

It took a moment for the realization to wash over her, her eyes widening when she realized what you were talking about, “is that legal here?” She whipped her phone out, hastily typing before she nearly shot you a glare, “no! It is not.”

“Oh don’t be a fucking narc,” you rolled your eyes, your voice quieting to not be overheard, “you’re not a fucking fed right now, and it’s fine if it’s medical.”

“That’s gotta be some kind of illegal abuse of your medical licence.”

“Yeah well… I wasn’t the one who shot some guy’s ear off for a threat.” You deadpanned and Emily choked on her words, grimacing as she settled back in her chair instead of trying to stop you as you stood, “a couple of puffs now, we’ll eat a late dinner, finish the joint and go to bed. If it helps you sleep, I’ll get you a prescription.”

“Fine.” She grumbled, willing to try anything at this point to get her back to a normal schedule, knowing that one day she was going to have to work through the day and sleep through the night again. She couldn’t keep this up forever.

You’d been the first to tap out, the exhaustion of a full work day on top of the glass of bourbon and weed, once your stomach was full, you were down for the count, saying goodnight and quickly heading to your bedroom. Emily felt fine, a little cloudy but relaxed, comforted almost and she knew it was probably not the greatest idea but she sipped on a glass of wine after you went to bed, feeling the night sink into the city. She thought nothing of it as she went through her normal nighttime routine, even though it was hours earlier, her eyes were drooping, it was at least time for a nap. She locked the balcony door behind her, washed the couple of dishes in the sink, filled up a glass of water and made sure the alarm was set. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and took whatever meds she normally did before bed and curled up under the blankets, letting out a soft sigh as she did so, sleep taking over much quicker than normal.

The major conflict being that Emily’s body was used to the new sleep schedule she’d implemented, the one that started at dawn and went ‘til dusk. Meaning it had been roughly twelve hours, not twenty four since she’d last taken her meds and even with the added weed, she’d only been awake four hours by the time you got home, there was no way it was actually bedtime for her. She could practically feel herself tossing and turning, her mind racing as images began to plague her dreams.

Though this time it wasn’t just Ian, they were at the villa, there was a weird haze over the entire thing but she was playing with Declan, wide smile on her face as he laughed while she chased him around. At first she looked like Lauren; Declan was as small as she remembered until Ian showed up and a darkness enveloped the room. She could feel her heart pounding, a gasp escaping her lips as she frantically looked around for the boy who was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Unlike the last nightmare this time it was as if she was having an out of body experience, watching the entire thing like it was a movie. She watched the fear spread across her own face as her hair darkened, became straighter, bruises started to purple up on her skin as Ian laughed at her.

“You’ll never find him. You’ll never be able to protect him.” He jeered, “he’s my boy after all. You gave up that chance, didn’t you?”

Blood started to stain her shirt, forming a circle on her lower abdomen before she let out a groan, hands shooting to the wound, trying to hold it together as red streaks began to drip down her clothing. She couldn’t help but collapse to her knees, choking on her own breath as she tried to speak, desperate to find the boy before he did.

“Declan….” She cried out.

Instead of his perfect blue eyes popping up from behind the couch, Ian’s hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her face up to his.

“He is my son.” He spat, “and nothing, not even you, will keep me from him.”

“Please!”

“Em!” A voice rang out, a hand closed around her shoulder and she could see it, the bodyless limb in her nightmare as she continued to sob. She felt like she was going to throw up, “Emily!” It repeated, this time louder, “hey! Wake up!” Her vision began to spin, blurring as the scene in front of her slowly vanished and suddenly she was jolted into her Parisian bedroom, the nightstand light on, casting a glow though the room and she realized it was your voice that was soothing her. “Hey… I’m here.. it’s okay.” You assured her, watching the way she slowly blinked to life, her chest heaving as her eyes darted around the room and she instantly shot up, shuffling back on the bed as if she was about to be hit.

“I-“ she struggled to find the words, her eyes flicking from each spot of the room that was a little too dark for comfort to the window, making sure it was shut before she felt your hand on hers, your thumb soothing across the back of it.

“You’re okay.” You repeated, “he doesn’t know where you are. You’re safe, I promise.”

She took a moment, calming her heavy breaths, not even bothering to wipe the tears away as she fought against every instinct in her to run out of the room right then. Grounding herself by the warmth of your hand on hers, the weight of your body next to her on the bed, knowing that this was reality, not the scene in her head moments prior. Once you could tell she was back on earth your free hand reached out to the nightstand, flicking through her pill bottles until you found the anti anxiety, twisting it open to hand her one.

“Here.” She took it from you, popping it under her tongue and waiting for it to dissolve. “You’ll feel better in a bit, get some rest.” You began to shift from the bed, knowing how much she hated when you even attempted to coddle her and she let out an uncharacteristic whimper, her hand instantly tightening in yours.

“Wait!” You were halfway standing when you turned back to her, frowning at the tears blurring in her eyes, “stay… please? Just for now.”

“Okay.” You shot her a weak smile, shifting back onto the bed, your heart sinking at the way the tears were still leaking over her cheeks, the way her body would occasionally shake in fear. Whatever tonight’s nightmare had been about was clearly affecting her more than the last one. You adjusted the blankets, making sure they were wrapped around her, and covering you enough you wouldn’t get cold and you were taken aback at the way she nearly collapsed against you, holding onto you as if you were the only thing keeping her from slipping back into another nightmare. “Hey…” you squeezed at her softly, “talk to me… please.”

“Thought you weren’t a shrink.” She bit back and you let out a huff.

“I know the basics, and you need to talk. You need someone right now and I’m the one that’s here, so let me be what you need, even if you hate it.” You felt the vibration of her grumble against you, your free hand soothing up and down her back, “wanna maybe start with who Declan is?”

Emily tensed in your arms, unaware that you’d heard that much, wondering just how much she was willing to share tonight before she let out a shuddering breath, “Doyle’s son.”

“Just… his…?” You asked cautiously and she let out another wavery huff.

“Yes.” Her hand reached up to wipe away a stray tear, “my job was to seduce him, but I mean, I was careful. I even slept with him and I don’t do that.”

“Well even I know sleeping with an international terrorist isn’t likely a good idea.” You muttered back.

“I meant men.” She replied and you almost stiffened beside her.

“Oh…”

Silence filled the room once again as she continued to try to calm her thudding heart, the medicine you’d given her slowly coursing through her veins.

“My job was to keep Declan safe, even afterwards. That’s why I moved to D.C, not because of the BAU, but because it was close to him. I thought I was safe for so long after Doyle was arrested, that things were fine, that he’d never find us again but I was wrong. If he managed to break out of prison, find me and completely destroy me… again… what’s stopping him now?” She took a shuddering breath and your arms tightened around her.

“He thinks you’re dead.” You whispered softly, “even if he hacks into Boston hospital records, that’s what he’ll find.”

“I just want to feel safe.” She sniffled again and you held back the instinct to wipe the new tear away, not wanting to end this chapter of her feeling comfortable talking to you, feeling vulnerable with you. “I knew he wanted to kill me, that he wanted me dead and I had the upper hand and didn’t take it. I died. I actually died in the ambulance and all I felt was… cold.. and darkness… that can’t be it.” Her hand clutched at your shirt again, “that can’t be the end…”

“It wasn’t.” You assured her softy, your hand slowly rubbing up and down her back, “and it won’t be. You deserve so much more than that, okay?”

“I just want to forget him.”

“I know.”

________________

@daddy-heather-dunbar @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @originalbrunettecharacter @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @nachofriess @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx

#emily prentiss #criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #solace in solitude #lauren reynolds #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss series

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telomeke · 2 months

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Get to Know Me Tag :)

I was tagged by @lamonnaie at this post here. Thanks for tagging me! 😍 It was such fun to read your responses; now here are mine. 🥰

do you make your bed?

Never ever. I'm pretty messy, and if I don't watch my hoarding tendencies I will morph into the worst pack rat. But I like a bit of clutter around me; I think it helps my creative side since my output (whether at work, or writing on Tumblr) is always tidy and tidied up to a fault, which can stifle creativity (at least that's what I tell myself! 🤣).

what's your favourite number?

Don't have one. However (even though I like to think I'm not superstitious) if I can I'll try to avoid the number 13 and anything with 4 in it...

what is your job?

Not gonna get too specific, but my work involves design, project management and construction.

if you could go back to school, would you?

I was too stressed out at school to want to repeat the experience. But I wouldn't mind a bit of time travel back to advise my younger self not to take things so seriously! 🤣

can you parallel park?

Yes. Not well, but the car will be fully in the lot eventually. 👍

a job you had that would surprise people?

Some minor modeling jobs when I was younger. Hush! I don't like to talk about it. 🤫 You wouldn't think it to look at me now (me 🤝 Ricky Gervais 😂).

do you think aliens are real?

There are too many planets out there for our little blue marble to be the only habitable one, so yes I do think there are aliens out there. I just don't think we've been visited by them yet though! (Aylin doesn't count. 🤩)

can you drive a manual car?

Yes. Mom taught me how to drive in one... until the day I jammed on the accelerator when she said "Step on it" and I almost up-ended us into a ditch. Then I was sent to driving school instead. 🤣

what's your guilty pleasure?

Ooh. It's this bad boy here:

Sadly I've been over-indulging, so chocolate is now banned from the house for the foreseeable future. I'm still lusting after it though. Other guilty pleasures: I do like a good nightcap, so any (gluten grain-free) alcohol makes me light up – cognac, cabernet, sherry, sake, port... (But I don't always know my limits, so this is now banned too.) And a steamin', stonkin', trashy BL every now and then (bonus if there's a nice muscley actor for me to get all googly-eyed over – shoutout Gap Jakarin!). 😁🥰

tattoos?

I like art and have fanboyed over beautiful tattoos before – but I'm put off by the permanence of them, so I have none myself. Don't like the idea of not being able to change them much once they're inked in, because I will always be wanting to change things up if I were to get one. And no, even for looking at I prefer an uninked bod over an inked one. It takes a lot of work to get a body in shape, and I can't understand someone wanting to cover up the results of their hard work at the gym. 🤷‍♂️

favorite color?

A deep, rich blue most of the time. But when the mood hits, I like a bright, bold red too.

favorite type of music?

My tastes are a bit eclectic, leaning lighter and not challenging. Anything with a strong melodic line will get me hooked. Bonus points if the lyrics can come together with the melody to tell a story, and elevate it even more. So – pop mostly, but I also like R&B, soul, light jazz and the odd heartfelt country ballad or foot-stomper (go Queen Bey! 😍). Also like things with a nostalgic bent (I melt at Karen Carpenter, Seals & Croft, and England Dan & John Ford Coley). And then throw in a couple of show tunes in there for good measure! My YouTube playlist is all over the place – Sheila Majid, New Country, Renaissance, Nunew, Miley Cyrus, Streisand, Li'l Nas X, Ayumu Imazu, The Carpenters, Clean Bandit, so many others, all side-by-side.

do you like puzzles?

I love them, especially word and logic puzzles. I'm always shouting over Pat and Vanna. 🤣

any phobias?

Oddly, not the usual suspects, but I'm a bit phobic about birds. They're just creepy up close, even though I find them fascinating and beautiful with a bit of distance. While the bog-standard creepy-crawlies don't bother me one bit – I'm the one always getting called in to whack the roaches and chase away rodents. I dream of getting a cobalt blue tarantula as a pet (but that's not going to happen for various reasons, alas).

favorite childhood sport?

I wasn't that sporty growing up (classic bookworm) but I did enjoy a bit of soccer when I got to play. But I guess my favorite was probably swimming, though I didn't compete.

do you talk to yourself?

All the time. There's a nonstop monologue going on in my head and I've been known to startle people by accidentally voicing that conversation out loud. So I've learnt not to do it around others. 🤣 And no I'm not hearing disembodied voices; it's just me keeping myself company (plus I find it helps me focus my thoughts).

what movies do you adore?

My all-time favorite: Cinema Paradiso; it really pulls unabashedly at the heartstrings, but then again I'm a sentimental fool and love it all the more for that. That's also why I like Love Actually, especially the scene where the repressed Jamie (Colin Firth) travels to Portugal in order to confess his feelings to Aurélia (Lúcia Moniz), having realized he loves her despite the language barrier, and doggedly learnt Portuguese just to make his declaration – and then he finds out that she, lovelorn and bereft, learnt English just in case ("just in cases") he came back. 💖 And my second favorite is from the other end of the spectrum, actually quite a bit before my time as well: Hello Dolly! 😆 Don't judge... A couple of songs in there are really amazing – Love is Only Love and Just Leave Everything to Me especially (which are not in the stage version) are mindblowingly good. The former is almost pithy in its bare-boned purity, all about looking at love without sentimentality while reprising themes heard earlier on in the musical; the latter has the among the cleverest lyrics set to music I've ever heard:

youtube

Streisand is in fine fettle portraying a campier, more youthful incarnation of Dolly. Such a shame it was not better received. The costumes are spectacular too.

coffee or tea?

Coffee (or rather the caffeine it contains) is my drug of choice, and I drink buckets of it. But I like a good cuppa when I'm feeling nostalgic and/or sentimental, because tea is what I drank a lot of growing up – at my gran's there would be a perpetually-replenished, giant kettle of dark, bitterish Oolong on the sideboard for whenever you felt like some (which was often), while at home there was always a big pot of tea on the table in the morning, that would then be set to chill in the refrigerator after breakfast. I would always have an ice-cold milk tea with the papers when I got home from school, and it was my favorite daily ritual.

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

A paleontologist – like a lot of kids I loved dinosaurs, and I can still rattle off the names of the more well-known ones (including every one in Jurassic Park 👀). But that got pushed aside for more practical considerations later. Still wish I'd explored my second childhood ambition more though, which was to be a writer/journalist. Maybe that's why I like posting so much on Tumblr! 😍

Onward tagging (too many people as usual, but no pressure to play if you don't want to or can't 🥰): @hughungrybear, @relativelydimensional, @neuroticbookworm, @wen-kexing-apologist, @waitmyturtles, @airenyah, @twig-tea, @solitaryandwandering, @recentadultburnout, @lurkingshan, @grapejuicegay,@bengiyo, @urikawa-miyuki, @pickletrip, @suni-san, @kattahj, @dimplesandfierceeyes, @7nessasaryevils, @imminentinertia, @befuddledcinnamonroll, @pandasmagorica, @nihilisticcondensedmilk,@shortpplfedup, @rokklagio, @thegalwhorants, @brazilian-whalien52, @callipigio, @respectthepetty, @corettaroosa, @colourme-feral, @virtualtadpole, @aroceu, @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas, @delesaria-blog, @dribs-and-drabbles, @inventedfangirling, @jiirotu, @visualtaehyun @happypotato48,@akawrites000, @kleopatras-cat, @dc-alves, @toschistation, @lovelyghostv

I've been tagged by others in various tag games over the past few weeks but have been too busy with work to be able to play. 😭 Not gonna post half-assed replies if I can help it, but then I'm always beset by dread thinking people might assume I'm ignoring them for whatever silly reason. But I just haven't had the time until now.

If you've tagged me and I've not responded, please know that I really wanted to but I just kept getting sidetracked by urgent deadlines. (In fact, my drafts folder is full of half-written tag game responses that are too far beyond their use-by date to ever see the light of day. 😮) So to any and all who see this, please accept my apology for not replying to your tags and invites, and if you'd like to play along with this one even if I haven't tagged you directly (and you have the time for it) – please do so! I'd love to read your responses! 😍

#tag game #get to know me tag

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silent-raven13 · 9 months

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Miles and Ganke!

(FYI still Punkflower. This about Miles' and Ganke's friendship and jealous Hobie! Buckle up, ya'll this is a long chapter!)

"Hey, Ganke! You ready for some All you can eat sushi!" Miles came ran up to his best friend. The two been so busy with their lives, they haven't had time to see each other. Normally, they always text, or send out videos from their social media from time to time.

Sometimes they play video games together, or do small FaceTime to talk about anything on that day.

Today, Miles and Ganke had time to enjoy dinner at this new All You Can Eat Sushi restaurants called Too Many Sushi! A popular place for college students around the area to enjoy sushi at a good price, everyone said good things about the place. Since Ganke and Miles are a fan of sushi, they had to try it out.

Miles wore his Nike gym outfit; a loose Yoga black tank top with his tight sports leggings all perfectly combine with his Panda Jordans. He looks slim and fit having lean muscle that look so appealing that people would look at his rear to see how well tone he is. His thick thighs looks great with those leggings. Some curious fellows were looking at Miles' bright smiles as if the sun was in the room, his septum piercing giving a daring attitude on his face. Even with those tattoos on his right arm.

"Hey, Miles!" Ganke went up to his best friend to give him a side hug.

Ganke wore his preppy outfits: A white collar shirt with a light sky blue knitted vest and some kaki slim pants and white Yeezy shoes. The nineteen year old had been working out over the years, so his shirt and vest look a bit fitted on his upper body. Even his hair styled in a slick back messy spike style, wearing his large square glasses still looking boyish with his round face.

The people around them gawking at the two handsome young men looking so adorable as they hug each other. Something about those two had this beautiful glowing sparkles. "Are they together?" One woman asked her friend feeling her cheeks blushing at the supposed cute couple.

"I dunno, but they look like it." Another answered.

Even the men couldn't help but be awestruck at the two. "Those two are like the perfect duo! So noble and loyal!" One said to his friend being dramatic.

"Huh? Dude, it's not that deep..." Then one saw Miles handsome face, having to blush, "I mean, the one with the panda Jordans look hella fine."

"Dude, what da fuck? You're straight!" The guy looks at Miles' rear, "But he does got a nice ass..."

"Bro, and you were shitting on me?" The friend shouted at him.

Miles and Ganke weren't aware of the group of people staring at them, since they were busy talking about their busy lives. "Two, please." Ganke said to the hostess in the restaurant.

"Right this way!" The Hostess said seeing at the two being so cute together. "Wow, so adorbsss!"

"So how's your engineer classes? I heard you guys had some intense projects with that professor." Miles asked as they went to their booth. The hostess handed their menus seeing the two seating across from each other.

"Your waiter will be right with you in a bit." She said with a smile on her face.

"Okay, thank you!" The two said in union making her awestruck by their cuteness.

"They are even more cuter when they talk together. Ahhh!" She happily walks away.

Ganke explained, "Yeah, it's been hell, man. I don't get why he keeps giving us project after project. It's annoying. I haven't slept in three days from this recent one." He looks at the menu.

"Yikes, man. I feel for you. Hope, you're not drinking those fowl ass energy drinks." Miles took napkins from the dispenser and packet chopsticks from a cup handing one each to his best friend.

"Guh?" Ganke winced being caught from his friends' words, "Me? Drinking energy drinks? When?" He casually lies having to sweat bullets. That's one of his bad habits he needed to stop, he loves drinking Monster energy drinks whenever he can, sometimes he drinks four a day. Since, Miles dorm with him through out all high school, he was able to stop Ganke from drinking so much.

"How many?" Miles crosses his arms with a pout on his face.

"It's not a lot." His friend drag his wording long as he fixes his napkin and chopsticks to his right side.

"Ganke."

"Like six a day." His Korean American friend boy his head in defeat.

"All three days?" Miles asked.

"Each day." Ganke groans being too honest, he's not a good liar. Not to mention, Miles got his mother's eyes that can read anyone's lies.

Miles' honey brown eyes widen in shock, "Dude, what the fuck! Those things can kill you! I knew, I should've dorm with you! But nooo, you wanted to be your own man."

"Are those two bickering? That's so cute! Awe, look at his cute boyfriend scolding him!" Everyone near the two would watch or glanced over hearing the two's conversation. They couldn't help but admire their cute relationship.

"The one with the black tank top is so cute! Look how he lectures his baby." One girl said to her friends in one table.

One of the college girls leans over with her camera, "They are so cute. I need a pic on them to show my friends or maybe my inspiration for my new BL series."

"Ohh, yeah! You just finished your Hearts 2 Luv manwa, huh?" Her other friend giggles at her brunette friend being a BL artist.

"Yes, and this couple makes me want to write another explicit BL." The artist spoke with a white mask covering half her face as she almond shape eyes were on the two. "Hmm, who would be top?"

"It obvious the Asian guy." The brunette with pale skinned giggles.

"I think the other guy is a power bottom, have you seen that ass." The Latina said to her friends as they saw their waiter coming to them.

"Hmm, I like that idea." The BL artist smiles under her mask, then remove it when the waiter placed their drinks and took their orders. Her dark eyes on Miles, "He looks like a Sunflower and the other guy has a sort of goody toe shoes attitude. Like he's innocent bubbly in person, but underneath it all, he's a ravaging lustful man."

Her two friends nodded, "Oooohhh, that makes sense."

"A lustful man that keeps his Sunflower protective, and they would have a forbidden love." The Bl artist nodded while explaining, "Or should our little power bottom cross dress into a woman at night and they found each other in a club. Or they were roommates in college and fallen for one another."

The bubbly brunette friend giggles, "I like it when one of them is a serial killer. It gives so much fucked up angst!"

"I fancy myself Omegaverse!" The Latina friend said.

"Oohhh, those sound like amazing ideas, but I feel like I'm missing something. Let me observe." Their Bl artist friend's black eyes gleam at the two couple.

Miles and Ganke met their waiter having to make their first round orders of sushi and drinks. "So, how are your parents?" Miles asked, "I bet their proud of their son been getting straight As."

"Hahaha, yeah. They're fine. My mom was asking about you, she wants you to come over dinner." Ganke said.

"My mom, too! And Billie-Boo been asking about you too." Miles smiles widely having his facing beaming, "I can't wait to have dinner with your parents again. I want to hear about the last Red Sox game from last week!

"Dude, he was super pissed off. He wanted to talk to you about that, too!" Ganke laughs, "Also, will your mom cook that fire ass pernil?"

"I'm sure. And will your mom make black bean noodles? That was stupid dumb fire, man." Miles happily asked, "and I really like those side dishes she made last time."

"Really? My dad didn't it. My mom was trying an old recipe. I thought the plain kimchi tasted okay." Ganke chuckles.

"I love the cucumber salad too. The amount of sesame seeds was perfect!"

"Awe, look at them!" The other people from the tables admire them.

The waiter came by to the two to place their drinks. Both order glass of water, and special drinks. Miles got himself a Wintermelon sparkling drink with sweet green tea mixed into. Ganke got a Strawberry sparkling soda with creamy peachy vanilla mix into it. They slurp their drinks having a joyful reaction.

"Ohhh, sweet drinks and staring to each others' eyes. How romantic!" One girl said to her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend lost for words, "Bae, I think you been reading to many BLs..."

"Mmm, this is so good. Here try!" Miles sips his drink being amazed by the flavors. Wintermelon has a unique light crisp grass with a bit of sweetness from the green tea mixture. He slide his drink towards his best friend with his own straw to try.

"Mines good too!" Ganke share his drink toward Miles. The two try each others drink having some to love the drink.

"Amazing! They are begging to be BL characters!" The BL artists' eyes widen at the cute scene, "This will be perfectly. A cafe date idea! But with a fluff manwa isn't popular if there's no drama."

"I know, make one of them a serial killer." Her friend with the brown hair and pale skin giggles. "Those are always popular. I say you can make the one with the glasses a dangerous killer."

"Well," The Latina began as she stare at her Bl artist friend, "your Ex-Lovers manwa was popular for a whole year and remained top ten still."

"Right, that one had a serial killer lover that collects blood, and he's a photographer. His ex-boyfriend been is obsession for these killings. It was the perfect manwa of the year." The brunette said all dramatically and in love with her friend's manwa.

"Heart 2 Luv is a romantically fluff manwa. It was trending for awhile, too. Was there trouble making it?" The Latina friend asked.

"It's hard when it's just fluff, besides cute... what is there? It took me a while trying to figure the perfect climax of the story since I wrote the couple to be so in love with each other." The BL artist explained, "It was written longer than expected. Honestly, as much as I enjoy creating that manwa, it was a pain in the ass. Now, I'm here trying to think a more interesting trope. We don't want the same boring ass top being loyal or and bottom gets cheated on."

"Those are getting boring. Last night I read Jinx and honestly I was over it." The Asian American girl with pale skinned sighs from boredom, "A twink with no ass takes on a twelve inch dick gets stupid boring." Unaware the next booth next to them were men, that were shocked and confused.

"Honestly, the whole bottom being twinks trope is boring. I prefer two muscular men with unique personalities." The Latina pointed it out.

"Exactly, BLs these days are following the same formulas as with Yaois. It's honestly needs a new refreshed story. Hmmm, maybe these two will give me the spark I need." The artist rub her chins. The waiters came by with their foods.

Then Miles being loud to Ganke, "HEY, HAVE YOU READ THE LAST CHAPTER OF HEARTS 2 LUV!" Their waiter came by with their sushi.

"AHHH, OMG! They're talking about you manwa!" The brunette giggles.

The BL artist blushes, with her hands clasp togethers, "I've been blessed!"

"You always like it when your fans talk about your work." Her other friend giggles.

Ganke chews on one of his rolls, "Yeah, it was great. I bet, you cried."

"I did! It was beautiful! When Joji give up his family's name to marry Woo, it was just perfect. You need to understand that on chapter 32, Woo given him that beautiful flower pin and- and Joji wore it in the end! Ahhh, so much has happen and they adopted a cute girl! Ahh, I can't take it." Miles nerd out from the manwa he fell in love with. "I dunno how FizzyPop does it. She's truly a genius! Even her vampire manwa was so good."

"And her Ex-Lovers was crazy too. Did you read that?" Ganke asked.

Miles' cheeks turns warm, "Yes, and I thought the killer was fucking cute! Ahh, I was questioning my own sanity!" He panics when he have mini crushes on fictional characters. "Like, I can expect having Zoro as my husband, but Seko?"

"Honestly, I thought it was too bloody for me. I had to stop half way, but the story is interesting." Ganke admits, "And Seko, really? That guy was crazy!"

"I know, but I'm a sucker for hunks! Like have you read Jinx!" Miles pouts, "The story is boring but Jaekyung is fine! Something about cold, cool demeanor gets me."

"Well, at least you got Zoro in your heart. Loyal ass man." Ganke chuckles, "Also, have you tattoo healed?"

"Oh yeah, look!" His dark skinned friend revealed his One Piece X tattoo on his left arm, "Hehe, cool huh?"

"Yeah, mines came out fine, too." Ganke rolled up his left sleeve to show his. "See! I'm still thinking if I should get Robin's tattoo on here or on the shoulder."

"Shoulder would look cool. That means I should get a Zoro tattoo then." Miles giggles.

"Ain't your parents gonna kill ya for having a fourth tattoo?"

"Yeah, but if I wear long sleeves they won't notice." Miles grins widely having a mischievous side.

"My mom freaked out when I show her mine. She started to lecture me but my dad didn't care." He said.

"It's our bodies. Why should they have control over that?" Miles asked as he picks up his roll to eat. "Mmm, this is so good. Try it. Say ahhh, Ganke!"

"Ahh!" Ganke open his mouth when Miles feed him sushi with his own chopsticks. The Korean American chews the sushi roll, "Mmm, spicy mayo is amazing!"

"Kyaaa, so cute!" Everyone around watches.

Ganke fed his sushi to Miles, "This one is has jalapeños on it. Careful, dude."

"Nom! Mmm, so yummy!" Miles' taste buds danced by the spicy crunchy tun roll. "The jalapeños gives a good kick."

"Ahh, so freakin' cute. I need like a five eight pages of them doing the nasty!" The brunette young woman said to her friend.

Latina softly chuckles, "You and everyone are reacting the same way."

"Cute, but I feel like we're missing something." Their artistic friend said, "I need something to spicy them up."

Miles smiles happily at Ganke, "Man, this place is so good. I wish I can bring my parents here."

"Oh yeah, they don't like sushi, huh?"

"They always questioned why they have to eat raw fish. My dad tries to use chopsticks one time and ended up stabbing his roll into pieces." Miles sighs.

"Yikes, man." Ganke chuckles, "Does Billie likes sushi?"

"I dunno. I never thought of giving her a roll. Can a two year old eat sushi?"

"I think it should be fine." Then, his friend with glasses snickers, "Imagine if she just whacks it off!"

"Oh man, Boo-Boo always does that when she doesn't like something." Miles laughs, "Oh before I forget. Selfie time!" He took out his Smartphone and took a selfie with him and Ganke. They did the Korean heart hand sign.

The people around them admire the two being such an adorable couple, they were unaware what's to happen. While Miles and Ganke sharing their sushi, laughing about their own life and catching up on their favorite anime and superhero comic books.

"Wow, they are the perfect pair."

"I think the are meant to be!"

Different voices muttering to their other friends and partners about the two. Miles posted his photo on his social media to show off the food. Then, posted some videos of him and Ganke eating.

"That one with the nose piercing is sort of a cutie." One guy from the bar eye on Miles, "I wonder if he's really with that guy."

"He looks taken, man." One of the guy's friend said.

Then another one sips his drink and glanced over, "All thought you do have a point. He is a fine one."

"Wow, they make the perfect pair for a vampire manwa!" The brunette said as she hold her hands out in a rectangle shape doing a picture frame.

"They look attractive no matter what. I'm just wondering what's your ideas." The latina with the long black hair looks over at her BL artist friend.

"Hmmm, so many possibilities," She began, "I'll wait for a sign." Her dark almond shape eyes gleam again, as she stare intensely at the couple from afar.

Then, the front door open having a tall dark skinned young man walks in. The hostess was about to welcome the man, but stood in shock by his demeanor appearance. "Welco- Uhhh..." Her smile fell when she met a scary tall punker with face full of piercings, with a dark look on his face. "Ummm-" He walks passed her.

"Wa-wait, sir1" She called him out.

The punker ignores her walking inside the restaurant with his heavy combat boots making loud thud sounds. His dark eyes scan over the place to find a certain someone, ignoring the stares.

"Wow, look at those piercings!"

"His outfit is pretty wicked."

"He looks so scary."

He heard all of this before, it didn't bother him. Then, he spotted a certain someone from across the room. The low muttering and chattering didn't faze him when he got close to his min target.

"Whoa, who's that?" The black haired Latina asked.

"Wow, he's sort of a bad boy." The brunette giggles.

"Huh! He's gorgeous!" Their artistic friend stop sipping her drink to say. "He can make a perfect noir character!"

"Noir?" Her brown skinned friend with long black hair asked.

"Honestly! Noir films or novels is a type of genre where there's a lot of violence, nihilistic AND dark! It's an amazing genre!" Her brunette friend spoke with loving passion.

"You would know." Her Latina friends sighs at her friend's passion for dark and scary genres.

The punker finally got to the table causing a certain ruckus among the people around him. A mere dark glare got everyone to shut up, then turns his head back at Miles and Ganke.

Miles looks up being surprised, "Bae?"

"Sunflower." His voice deep.

"HE CALLED HIM BAE!" Everyone around the table overhears this being in shock.

The BL artist's eyes dropped, her body frozen as if a new inspiration course through her veins. "He's-He's that guy's boyfriend and he called him, Sunflower!"

"Looks like she's getting her story ideas." Her Latina friend chuckles.

"For real." The other young woman giggles.

"This is amazing! A punker and a ball of sunshine a couple. It's the perfect combo to a heated BL story!" The artist lowly explained, "I need photos!" She took out her Smartphone taking pictures of the group, "Not only that, but he's one sexy man. Look at those piercings, his posed, his hair! It's not everyday you see this beautiful work of art!"

"Gurl, can you try to be sneaky? You're gonna get us in trouble!" Her friend said.

The brunette giggles with her hands clapping together, "Ohh, what if he's a serial killer and stalker of the sunshine cutie?"

"You and your dark genres." Her Latina friend being perplexed by her pale friend's love for thrillers.

"What are you doing here?" Miles asked his boyfriend being confused.

Hobie casually sat next to his partner, "I saw, your story on your social media and thought I should drop by." His jealousy was showing.

Miles let his boyfriend lay on his shoulder making him chuckle, "Baby, I told you, me and Ganke were hanging out today."

"Mmm."

"I told you, me and him are just friends."

"Yeah, I know." Hobie snuggling his boyfriend being cute, he acts so childish sometimes.

"How is he dating HIM?" Some were having mix feelings about the cute guy dating someone with dark scary look.

Ganke chuckles, "Dude still think I'ma take you away, Miles?"

"Yeah, Hobie is still jealous of you." Miles explains, "I never get why."

"Are you kidding me! Have you seen this perfect man for you?" Some of the strangers glanced over then tilted their head seeing the punker being childish.

Hobie merely bury his face into his Sunflower's chest, "Luv, you don't have to tell him!"

"Well, he is my best friend and you're always jealous of him." Miles snickers, "baby, it's ok-WHoa!" Hobie made Miles sit on his lap, being protective of his Sunflower. Fitted arms wrapping around his lover's waist, he gave another jealous look from Ganke. "Your mine."

"Looks like he never change." Ganke chews on his roll.

"Yeah, no kidding." Miles laughs along his best friend.

Luckily, Ganke isn't afraid or annoyed by this, he knows how much Miles loves his punker. It's best to just be unbothered by the whole thing. "Excuse me, but is he bothering you two?" Their waiter came up seeing the ruckus happening.

"No, we know him." Miles felt Hobie's lips on his neck, "Hobie, chill. No one is gonna take me away."

"Well in that case, if he's planning to sit here. We would have to charge him for the All You Can Eat, if that's okay." The waitress pointed one.

"It's fine. I'll pay for his seat." Ganke said as he chews.

Miles said, "No, Ganke. I'll pay for Hobie's."

"Nah, it's fine. Besides, my internship pays me." He smirks widely.

"Tsk, I brought my wallet." Hobie rolled his eyes.

"Bae, remember your money doesn't work here." Miles reminded him being in another world, his cash is from a different timeline and country. "Don't worry, I'll pay for it. Since your here have some sushi. Say Ahhh!" He pick a roll for his boyfriend to try.

Hobie had his eyes looking to the side, not the biggest fan of sushi. Something about raw fish doesn't work with Jamaican side, fried fish with fried plantains. "Mmm, luv. I don't think-" Miles shove the roll in his mouth, "Your gonna eat at least three rolls, bae. You're in an All You Can Eat Sushi."

"Alright, Sunflower." He chews then his eyes widen liking the roll, "Mmm, this one is good."

"It's Spicy crab with mayo and cucumbers. I'll order you the cook ones. Me and Ganke are planning to order some nigiri!"

"We should get some Salmon and Tuna!" Ganke said to his best friend.

"Yeah, I really want to try the seared scallops, too!"

"Oh, and order some maki!" Ganke looks at the menu.

Hobie was lost at the orders they were talking about, never went to a sushi bar. No, him and his bandmates always fancy fried fish and chips. He watches Miles looking at the menu while he rested his chin on the nape of his Sunflower's neck. "Mmm, what do you like, bae? I'm thinking you should try the basics."

"Have your mum try sushi before?"

"Ahh, you and her are kinda the same." Miles thought out loud, "Okay, maybe some California roll, oh maybe you'll like eel?"

"Eel... darling isn't that a sea snake?"

"It's really good. It's one of my favorites. We'll order one." Miles turns to Ganke, "Oh, have you watched the latest Jujutsu Kaisan?"

"Yeah, it was awesome. Gojo is a dope character." Ganke commented. The two kept talking and talking about everything again. It seems like they never seem to have an awkwardly paused. The waitress came by to take another wave of orders from the two, while Hobie stay quiet.

"Oh, can he have Coca Cola?" Miles remembers his boyfriend didn't have anything to drink.

"Sure, thing." The waitress happily took their orders before leaving. Then the two went into deep conversation.

Hobie got bored hearing the two, his ears decided to focus on the other chatter from the people around them.

"Wow, he's dating that cutie?"

"Awe, I was rooting for the two to be together. They look so cute together."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. They don't look good together. I thought the cuties would be a couple. Shame."

"The whole punk aesthetic is overrated. Who's he trying to look mean for? The sweet guy looks like he can do better."

"Man, too bad that hottie is taken. I was about to ask him out."

Hobie glares over to the nosy crowd, seeing them tensed by his scowl. They quietly shut up feeling the punker's death stare.

"Baby, relax. It doesn't matter what they say. I'm happy with you." Miles caress his boyfriend's cheek, "Don't get too upset, mi amor."

"Kiss me and I'll feel better." Hobie took his boyfriend's face to make him stare deeply in his eyes.

Ganke said, "Just do it, Miles. That way he'll be happy for the night."

Miles said, "Hobie, how about later? Ganke is here. I don't want him to be weirded out, you always used tongue." Then his boyfriend became all gloom and moody. "Ugh, fine. Here," Miles kisses his boyfriend on the lips.

"Mmm," Hobie purrs happily in the back of his throat being kissed by his Sunflower.

"Ohhhh, so the cutie is the one in charge of the relationship." People were glancing over.

"Lowkey that's kinda hot."

"Like a punker with a sunshine boy is such a cute couple."

The three younger women from afar smiling at the view. "So, what do you think, Xina?" The black latina friend smiles at her BL artist friend.

"Yeah, isn't this a twist. I think he'll make a perfect uke." The brunette giggles with her girlish bubbly sound.

"Well," Xina smiles widely at the view, then had a nosebleed, "This is the perfect love triangle! I see it now, the main character being the cutie Sunflower trap in two delicious men; a goody two shoes and bad boy! Yes, with lots of steamy hot sex."

"Please, make it a bit toxic." The brunette friend begs, "I want bondage!"

"Geez, Dana. You really like the rough fucked up kind, huh?" The Latina said in a calm tone.

"You know it!" Dana playfully stick her tongue out being cute. "And you like it too!"

"She's right, Tempest. You didn't stop obsessing those fan made BLs of Spidermen and their forbidden love." Xina grins at her.

Tempest blushes having to sip her drink, "I dunno what your talking about!"

"She got you there, hehehe. Or how we were in love with gay vampires!" Dana getting hype.

"What da hell is wrong with those girls..." The next booth with men thought to themselves.

Xina grins widely, "I already have all the material I need for my next manwa! Get Ready or Not!"

Later that night, Miles and Hobie went back to his place after dropping Ganke at his home. Luckily Hobie was able to sneak in the back window, while Miles' family fell asleep. The two spend a passionately sex with a lot of love bites.

The punker knocks out having to wrap his arms around his Sunflower's waist. He softly snores away. Miles looks at his tablet having to send messages back at his best friend.

Ganke: Dude, ya'll good?🧐

Miles: I put the badussy on him real good! 👍🏽 😊

Ganke: LMFAO! Bro, was heated. Will ever get over us?

Miles: Nah, he's the jealous type. 😌 Lowkey I like it. I think its the Latino in me, I love shit like that- SOMETIMES!

Ganke: Hey, if I had a girl like that I wouldn't complain too.😅 Also, you saw this -sents a link-

Miles clicks on the link going on to Twitter to find the famous BL artist of Hearts 2 Luv posted her upcoming next project. His eyes widen at the front cover, "Wow, that's so fast. How did she find time to create this so fast? Does she have models?"

It's the front cover of FizzyPop's next BL manwa, she wrote in with a devil smiling emoji.

FizzyPop: Ready or Not, Here I come! 😈

The artwork shows a dark skinned young man with a big sparkling eyes and big plump lips having a short afro. The two men around him is a much darker skinned young men being a punker with spiked hair and tons of piercings with a devious looks. The other man being the typical handsome Korean man with black hair, glasses and muscular. Two muscular men wrapping around the main character, who's well fit, too.

Miles chat to Ganke: WHOA! She made that so fast. Why they look so hot! 😳🥵 That punk guy is so damn fine!

Ganke: They all are! I'm surprised she's being different. I thought she was planning to do another Fluff RomCOm.

Miles: And the comments are going crazy. They said they want a threesome chapter! Horny asses- me, too! 😞 I'm no better.

Ganke: SAME! 😂 I wanna see how that would work out! But lowkey, does these characters remind you of anyone 🤔 I feel like I've seen them somewhere.

Miles: Highkey, huh! 🤔 But where? I felt like I met these guys before, hmmm. Maybe it's all those character designs from her pervious works mashed to one, huh?😅

Ganke: Your right! I guess that's what it! 😅 Also, are you done to play Animal Crossing?

Miles: Hell yeah! Me and Billie got are town cleaned for you! Let me get my switch!

The two play their game together through the rest of the night, while Hobie happily sleeps away.

(Hey guys, Hope you like 1610 Xina, Dana and Tempest. For those who don't know, they were Miguel's boos in the comic books. They exist in this world but completely different- well, they all dated 1610 Miguel 😂 Currently Tempest is dating Miguel. They are all in college being two years older than Miles, who's nineteen. 1610 Xina is Korean American. Dana is mixed, Italian with Chinese. Tempest is mixed with Black and Dominican. They are great friends and they are baddies loving Kdramas, BLs, and Beyonce/Rihanna 🤭)

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #spiderman #across the spider verse #spider verse #fanfic #spider man #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #hobie x miles #miles x hobie #miles morales 1610 #earth 1610 #flowerpunk #flowerpunk fanfic #punk flower #punkflower fanfic

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moonangelxo · 1 year

Text

Something for your mind

wanda maximoff x avenger!reader

please follow my new (side)blog here !

summary: reader has been having nightmares due from the stress of their last failed mission. But good thing their crush Wanda is there to save the day!

warnings: fluff! hurt/comfort, unspoken feelings for each other, reader has a nightmare of said mission. Lmk if I missed anything?

note: this is my first fic… I’m very nervous to post this. Please lmk what you think 🥹 also the gif is not mine nor do I claim it to be! The nightmare is all in italics!

All you could hear was screaming. Dust clouding your vision from everything, filling your lungs as you tried to catch your breath from the impact you had just took. The mission had gone sideways.

“Wanda!”

You remember calling out, but it was no use. Your throat was all too dry, and with all the people still screaming in horror and the rubble falling, there was no way she could’ve heard you. Crying as you tried to stand, the pain in your ribs almost unbearable.

“Wanda please!” You cried out yet again for your teammate, knowing you were too hurt to go on. And for once, truly scared for your life.

Suddenly you flung yourself upwards in your bed as you screamed with almost all your might. Shaking, no, more so trembling. You immediately started to rock yourself in your bed as you took in the surroundings with a shaking breath.

You’re at the avengers tower, in your room. You’re home. Immediately your chest started to feel at little better at the thought.

Although the small comfort in your chest didn’t last long, as you heard the door to your room literally fly across the room. You almost let out another scream, until your eyes noticed the scarlet red mist surrounding the now broken door.

“Y/n! Oh my god, are you okay?” You saw Wanda rushing in, her facial expression showing nothing but concern as she gave you a look over.

“M-my door!” You say, completely ignoring her worries for now.

“Did you really just use your magic to breakdown my door?!” You leaned over your bed to get a better glimpse of the cracked and crumbled door now laying at the other side of the room.

“It was locked and I heard you scream! Now hey, hey, look me,” Wanda said, her voice getting softer towards the end.

She grabbed your cold face softly in her warm hands, as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes looking all over your face to see if you were hurt. Her presence immediately comforted you. It always did.

You leaned your face into her hands further as you slowly closed your eyes, sighing softly as you did.

“I’m fine, Wands.”

Wanda leaned in slowly and gave a soft kiss to your forehead, the act sending butterflies straight to your stomach.

It had been like that for as long as you’ve known her. Wanda never failed at making you feel wanted. Loved. Appreciated. Accepted. She was comfort in a person.

“Was it another bad dream about..” she didn’t finish her sentence, as if saying it out loud would be too much.

“Yeah.. unfortunately..” you sighed out. Pulling away from Wanda’s hands. You could feel the tears swelling in my eyes.

Wanda watched you for a moment as you played with your fingernails, it was a nervous habit that you do that she picked up on. To her it was adorable.

“Cmon,” Wanda said in a breathy voice, climbing more into your bed further. She moved the blanket over so she could lay under it.

You two had done this a few times before, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it more and more each time.

You laid down next to Wanda, immediately putting your head on her chest as you held her tight, Wanda tugged at you even tighter.

“I’ve got you y/n, you’re safe. Get some rest.” Wanda laid yet another kiss on your forehead, this one lingering just as long as the last. It was nice.

“Thank you..” you said lowly, listening to Wanda’s heartbeat as you slowly closed your eyes. Sleep finding you easily as Wanda held you tight.

You weren’t even worried about the stupid nightmare anymore, or even about how mad Tony will get once you tell him about your door. For now, you were in Wanda’s arms, and that’s all that mattered. You would be okay, she was here.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda fanfic #wanda x reader #moonlights writing <3

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spreadyovrwings · 8 months

Text

64 Olso Square

"Companion' Middle English. From Old French 'compaignon', literally 'one who breaks bread with another.

Strapped for cash, John gets a job at a bakery as their new delivery boy. Juggling school and Queen and work is exhausting, but it's more than worth it. It's worth it because of you.

Warnings for this chapter: some light… thoughts of…. smut….. lots of flirting and these two dancing around each other even more.

Chapter Seven

Rita Caine went into labour on the morning of 1st June 1972. Her baby girl was born at seven o’ clock precisely, so her parents decided to call her Dot.

Dorothy Angela Caine was healthy and happy, and so were her adoring parents. Which was nice. Lovely, in fact. Except it meant that, for the last week, you had been running the bakery entirely by yourself.

You didn’t mind. Really, you didn’t. You couldn’t be more thrilled for Mickey. He’d been talking about starting a family ever since he met the girl of his dreams three years ago. His happiness gave you the strength to face that wall of hungry customers every morning and your cantankerous old kitchen.

But after one day on your own, you could barely summon the energy to hold yourself up. You simply let your body sink into a heap behind the counter, sliding down the wall until your bum hit the floor. You didn’t even have the energy to cry.

It didn’t matter that you’d spent days prepping, it didn’t matter that you were getting just a few hours of sleep and you hadn’t seen your friends or family in weeks, it still wasn’t enough to keep you ahead of schedule. Much as you tried, you couldn’t do the job of two people already doing the job of five.

As always, John was your only source of comfort.

You hadn’t admitted to anyone just how much pressure you were under. Mickey was able to come in a few days a week but you wouldn’t ever ask for more, and Gladys was like one of those comets you only see every 70-something years. You were barely getting by but hadn’t said a word. Somehow, John was able to sense it. Probably something to do with the way you gasped with joy and relief every time he stepped through the door.

That day, John was off on his rounds, dropping off little white boxes around the city on a bike borrowed from a girl on his floor, the same girl who leant him the flowery, red helmet. It turned out she’d painted the bike to match. When John turned up one morning, scowling atop his new wheels, it had kept you smiling all day.

When he finally returned to the bakery later that afternoon, just a few hours from closing, you were so relieved to see a friendly face, you almost kissed him. Almost.

You settled for resting your hand over the one he rested on the countertop and squeezing gently.

“Thank God, you’re ‘ere.”

John just smiled, puzzled but obviously pleased that you were happy to see him.

“Has it been bad?”

“No,” you lied. “Not really. But the last few hours are always a rush. How were the deliveries?”

“Great! Although, when I knocked at, er…” He checked his list, scrawled down by several different hands over the course of the week. “The one in West Brom? This one here. They weren’t in. The lady in reception said they’d gone out for breakfast instead, so.”

“‘appens.” You shrugged. “That’s your lunch sor’ed, then.”

John gave you an almost weary look.

You only beamed back. John always liked to make a show of refusing every time you gave him food to take home but he’d never once left empty-handed. Today would be no different.

John couldn’t keep a straight face for very long. He shyly raised a hand to cover his smile, but he couldn’t hide those crinkles around his eyes and the way his cheeks bunched up, still pink from his bike ride.

He was much smilier now than when you met, like he’d almost been out of the habit of it back then. You weren’t sure what it was, his friends, the band, this job, but things seemed to be going right for John. A small, selfish part of you wondered if you might have something to do with it too.

Things had, admittedly, taken a bit of a pause in that area. There was still tension, little looks and touches that lasted far longer than they needed to, but John hadn’t said anything more about the date he’d proposed, and you were too terrified to bring it up yourself.

That wasn’t to say there hadn’t been any progress. If you could call unbearable sexual tension progress.

Exactly three weeks after he was mugged, John invited you to another of his band’s gigs. He was right, it went a lot smoother than the last one. The hall was bigger, there were far more people, and John didn’t look like he’d rather be anywhere else the whole time.

After digging through your wardrobe, you managed to find a sheer top with long, bell sleeves and some black velvet flares. You made sure to stand as near to the centre as you could so that you could get a good look at him and, more importantly, so that John could get a good look at you. You felt his eyes on you the whole night.

There was another gig just a few days later at a school hall in Wandsworth. By then, you knew most of the words to a few of their songs. You even brought along a few leftover treats from the bakery for them to give out to punters.

Nothing, nothing, compared to the feeling of looking up at John while he played, his long fingers tugging at the bass strings, his head bowed. The way he moved, it was so different to how he acted offstage. There was a confidence about him you’d never seen before, and when he shook his long hair over his shoulder and smiled down at you, his hips swaying to his own beat, you suddenly understood why people went mad for musicians.

John always managed to find you, despite the low lights and the now heaving crowds. It sent a thrill through your blood every time his eyes met yours. Of all the people in the room, all those pretty girls and boys who were beginning to worship Queen, John only had eyes for you. He walked home with you after every gig.

You fell into a routine together without having to say a word. If John’s shift ended late in the evening, he would come up to your flat to watch telly for a while before heading back to his lonely digs, or you would walk up and down the high street a few times, just talking and talking, laughing and talking. If he worked the morning shift, John would stay to help out, but only after you’d made sure he wasn’t just trying to get out of studying.

And then there was The Incident. You blushed to think about it, even now.

It happened last week, at the end of a very long shift for the both of you. The bakery was so busy, John had offered to stay behind to help.

Working beside him again was so lovely. John didn’t often have time to hang out with all the essays he’d been lumbered with, so you had lots of catching up to do. Standing there behind the counter, chatting away about everything and nothing while you made tea and dished pastries, it was the happiest you’d been in months. Your cheeks began to ache from all the smiling.

When things finally started to wind down, you took John back into the kitchen with you and, after he expressed an interest, you showed him how the bakery’s signature bread was made, a darker loaf made up of rye flour, as well as wholemeal and white.

You shaped the dough between your hands, weighed it, then rolled it over a tray of seeds that shone like tiny jewels under the bright lights above. Together, you and Mickey made forty of these loaves every day. You could probably do it blindfolded now.

After a while, John’s questions petered out and you worked in a comfortable silence, which you only broke to remind him of the next step or to compliment his technique. No words could describe how hard you worked to not stare at John’s big hands as they rolled and patted and kneaded the dough.

Whatever walls you both had, they were gone now, there was no denying it. Being around John had always been easy, even though your heart was usually pounding so hard you could hardly hear him speak over it. But now there was no shyness, no awkwardness or uncertainty. There was no one else you could just be yourself around, and you liked the person you were when you were with John.

You realised you were smiling to yourself and quickly glanced up to see if John had noticed.

To your surprise, he was watching your face, his eyes soft and faraway. It wasn’t the first time you’d caught him staring but you’d never actually been brave enough to call him out on it. For the life of you, you didn’t know why that day felt different, but you smiled and asked,

“What are you thinkin’ about?”

John’s eyes seemed to focus again and he looked embarrassed. Maybe he hadn’t been staring at you at all. Perhaps he’d just zoned out and his gaze had only happened to land on you.

Feeling sheepish, you tried to laugh it off, but then John said,

“I was just wondering if I’d get flour on my face if I kissed you.”

You froze, the dough heavy in your hands, and stared. It was all you could do.

“What?”

John blinked.

“You’ve got flour…” He pointed at his cheek, then at yours. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You were thinkin’ about kissin’ me?”

John baulked, shook his head, and made an odd sort of sputtering sound, all before he managed to choke out,

“That’s not what I said!”

He seemed so certain. For a moment, you wondered if you’d somehow misheard or even imagined it. But no, no, John had let whatever was in his head come tumbling out of his mouth, perhaps for the first time in his life.

“You said, ‘I was wondering if I’d get flour on my face if I kissed you’.”

“Well, exactly! So-”

“So you were thinkin’ about kissin’ me.”

“No! Well, I…”

You couldn’t help it, you had to laugh. It was just so silly. John looked like he was about to turn grey and keel over, he was so embarrassed. For some reason, it only made you want to keep pressing.

“So, would you?”

“What?”

John’s voice cracked. It made your stomach flip.

“Get flour all over your face?”

It was a dare. You knew it. You knew John felt it. Suddenly the kitchen had gone very quiet.

You watched his lips press together. His steel grey eyes searched your face.

“I don’t know,” John said slowly, almost like he couldn’t believe he was really having this conversation with you. “Only one way to find out, I s’pose.”

He’d seen your bet and raised you. More than that, he’d given you permission, laid his cards out on the table and said, ‘Go on, then. Put your money where your mouth is’.

Your gaze dropped to his mouth again. He couldn’t have been more than a foot away. All you’d have to do was lean forward and he was yours.

John watched you, those clever eyes clear and bright. Were you imagining it, or had he turned himself towards you? Opened himself up to you and lowered his head a little?

Slowly (too slowly, you knew that now) you began to smile.

“I s’pose.”

John’s mouth twisted, then he laughed softly. It sounded hollow. He turned back to the dough and asked if it looked good enough to you.

It was only later that you realised your mistake. You’d been echoing him, a positive. John had heard an uncertain negative. You’d never wanted to kick yourself so bad.

It didn’t come up again.

On a bright day in the middle of the second week of June, you were setting up the chairs and tables outside the bakery when you heard a familiar bell chime.

John pulled up by the curb, his bike tires skidding across the asphalt. He looked pleased with himself, it was obviously a move he’d been practising. He’d certainly come a long way from careering into oncoming traffic, oncoming pedestrians, and several oncoming trees.

“You’ve mastered tha’.”

John smiled, wide and relaxed.

“You know, I had a scooter when I was a teenager.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Used to drive it everywhere. I’d choose that over this deathtrap any day.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

You tried not to sound too distant, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off John as he took off his helmet and shook out his long hair. He was so insanely beautiful, and you knew he liked to dress nice sometimes and he was always talking about what he wanted to do next with his hair, but John really didn’t have a clue just how gorgeous he was. At least, to you.

“I was big on The Who. I had this little Vespa 180.”

You nodded as if you knew what that was.

“Had the parka and the hair, and everything," John went on. “I was stopping by my friend Dave’s house once; he was in the band I was in back then. This car pulled out of nowhere and I skidded and came off it. Cut up my arms and my legs,” John scratched at his chin. “Had a nasty scrape here. Nearly fainted on my mate’s living room carpet from all the blood.”

You laughed because he did, though really, the thought of John as a teenager, just a kid really, hurting himself so badly that he was that shaken, it made your stomach twist.

He’d been doing that more often lately, telling you stories. Not just about his friends, his band, his classes, but about his home and his family, about the people he grew up with and the fun they used to have. It had taken almost half a year but John finally seemed to have relaxed.

“You were in a band back home too?”

You watched John dismount the bike, grinning to yourself when one of his long legs got caught in the frame. Still as graceful as ever.

“The Opposition, we were called. That’s where I learnt the bass.” John smiled, looking you up and down quickly. “You look lovely.”

You looked down at yourself. A skirt you’d pulled from the washing basket, an apron, and your coffee brown uniform shirt didn’t seem worth mentioning. With a pang, you wondered if you’d led the conversation down a path John didn’t want to follow and the compliment was just a distraction.

You looked back up at him, eyebrows raised.

“Do I?”

“Yeah, you’re…”

He looked you up and down again, slower now, taking his time, then smiled sheepishly like he’d forgotten himself for a moment. There was something so innocent and genuine about that smile too. It made John’s eyes sparkle and his nose wrinkle, and the small sound he made, a soft, shy laugh, was so endearing, all you could think about was kissing him.

“Thanks, er…”

You huffed, not sure what else to say. But John was still smiling. He knew.

Even though he’d bottled it, once again, passers-by must’ve been able to feel the tension radiating off of you. Your heart was pounding so hard, you were sure John would be able to hear it, even over the roar of morning traffic.

“Listen,” You shot him a look, wryly acknowledging that you were changing the subject. “I need to talk to you.”

John heaved an exaggerated sigh and turned his bike around.

“Oh, dear…”

You followed him down the narrow alleyway that separated the bakery from the haberdashery next door. There was hardly enough room to manoeuvre around the bins and potholes on foot, let alone fit a bike through, but he had the knack by now. You still managed to admire John from behind as you wound your way around the skips like an Olympic gymnast.

“I can’t make it tomorrow night. I’m really sorry. Gladys needs me to close up, she’s goin’ out with…” You pulled a face. “Well, she’s goin’ out. And I’m basically gonna have to work through the night to cover not ‘avin’ Micky still.”

You’d made plans to meet up before his next gig, what should’ve been your fourth. But there was just too much to do, and after two weeks of on-and-off help from Mickey and Gladys, you were exhausted.

“I’m so sorry, John.”

“It’s alright, love. Don’t worry. It’s tough at the minute, I know.” He squeezed your elbow gently, reassuringly, then turned to chain up his bike. “You’re gonna miss out on seeing my new outfit but…”

“Well, that’s why I wan’ed to talk to you...” You wrung your hands, half agony, half hope. “To make up for it, I wondered if you… If you wan’ed to come over after work tomorrow night? I could make dinner, help you get ready, do your make up…”

John laughed, soft and bright, all gap-teeth and eye crinkles. You could get used to seeing him this relaxed, you really could.

“I’d really like that,” he said, nodding sweetly, then he laughed to himself again.

You tried not to look as happily surprised as you felt.

“Good!” you said. “Cool.”

John beamed then raised his arm, gesturing for you to enter the bakery before him.

“Cool,” he repeated, teasing you.

You beamed.

“Cool.”

“Good.”

“Cool.”

“Good.”

Friday night should be the best night of the week. You should be out with your friends, maybe going to the pictures or getting a drink in a nice bar in town. Instead, you were so exhausted, you could barely put one foot in front of the other, and climbing the stairs to your tiny flat felt like traversing the foothills of the Himalayas.

But you had become used to not seeing your friends, and there was never anything on at the cinema, and even when you could summon the energy to get all dressed up and buy yourself a drink with a fantastic name, all you could think about was the bakery, and all the work you could be doing instead.

That night, it took all your strength to not flop down onto the sofa, or even better, your bed. Today had been tough, tougher than usual. Fridays always seemed busier than you could handle, even though in terms of numbers, they couldn’t be much different to any other day. Everyone was desperate to get home, hardly caring that you were too.

Feet dragging the carpet, you went into your room and stood in front of the mirror. Blurred eyeliner, tangled hair, and an empty sort of look behind your eyes.

“C’mon, kid,” You patted your cheeks, then tilted your chin up, dragging your open palm down your throat. “You’re alright. You know you can do it. You’re alright.”

You slipped your fingers under the collar of your shirt and pressed them into your pulse.

“Still goin’.”

You stayed there for a moment, just looking at yourself as you felt your heart beating against your fingertips. You tilted your head to one side, then the other.

There was a threatening red patch by the arch of your left eyebrow where a spot was brewing, and the bags under your eyes were growing darker and darker by the day.

“Mickey will be back soon.”

Lying to yourself was a new low. Mickey hadn’t said when he’d be back permanently. Gladys had actually made a rare appearance that afternoon but you were both so busy, you hadn’t had a chance to ask what the plan was. You were just treading water, and the storm showed no sign of clearing.

There was a knock at the door, four short, sharp knocks. Very John. Right on time, as always, and just when you needed him.

You eyed your bed longingly.

When you opened the door, John was covering his head with his hands, pulling down on the edges of a brown baseball cap. He looked agitated and embarrassed, like you’d caught him in the middle of something.

“Hi,” he said, and despite his obvious uneasiness, he still managed a sweet little smile.

“Hi.” You laughed. “What’s that in aid of?”

John’s expression darkened.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” He dropped his hands with a sigh. “I tried to do my hair but I don’t think I did it right. Had to hide it all the way here.”

“Hide your-? How bad is it? What ‘ave you got under there?”

John gave you a look so hopelessly crestfallen, you had to laugh.

“Come in, come in. We can sort it. I hope you’re hungry.”

That brought back his smile.

“Starving,” he said firmly, and followed you into the flat.

He left his bag by the front door, beside your untidy pile of shoes. You half expected him to flop down onto the settee and stick the telly on, or go into the bedroom to get changed, but John stuck close to your side, waiting for you to tell him what to do. He still had that stupid hat on but you sensed it wasn’t a good idea to ask about it yet.

“You lookin’ forward to tonight?” you asked instead.

You moved to the cupboard to grab some bits for dinner, nothing fancy but definitely soul-soothing. You sensed you both needed it.

“Yeah, yeah it should be good fun. Brian reckons we’ll pull a good crowd and he’s never wrong, so…” John rolled his eyes. “How was work? I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to help today. I could probably do tomorrow though and some days next week?”

“I’d love that. And it was good. Busy but… And I think I might’ve convinced Gladys we can afford more help.”

“Another baker?”

“Just someone to watch the front of the shop.”

John pouted.

“I thought I was gonna be your new sales assistant.”

“What? You’re joking. You’ll be busy touring the world soon! You’ll forget all about us.”

The moment the words left your mouth, your heart sank like a stone. You were only teasing, but there was a thickness to your voice, a tell-tale edge of self-pity, that John couldn’t have missed.

The thought clouded your mind most days. Whenever it threatened to sink its claws too deep into your chest, you had to turn the radio up or start a new dough, anything to distract, if not completely switch off your whirring brain. John couldn’t stay forever. You knew that. He knew that. But you were having a hard time accepting it.

John gave you a soft smile.

“I wouldn’t forget you, love.”

As he spoke, he raised his hand and slipped it round your wrist, gently, carefully.

“I couldn’t.”

His fingers were so long, they could wrap all the way around your wrist, his rings cold against your burning skin. It was all that kept you grounded.

He could barely hold your gaze when you first met. Now John could touch you like it was the easiest, most natural thing in the world, because it was.

You kept your eyes on his hand. You couldn’t look at him, you couldn’t let John see just how much the thought of him leaving pained you, or how desperately you wanted to rest your hand over his and pull him closer.

He squeezed your wrist once, then took back his hand. It took everything in you not to grab it back.

John cleared his throat. His cheeks were a little pink.

“Anyway, the band is just a… It’s not forever. It’s just a laugh. Something to get us a bit of money.”

You frowned.

“Is that how you all see it?”

John looked away.

You’d obviously touched a nerve so you changed tack.

“D’you mind chopping the veg?”

You worked together in a comfortable silence. The only sounds were the soft chip chip chip of John’s knife against the chopping board as he sliced carrots and onions, and the crooning radio in the corner.

You let your mind wander to what it might be like to hear one of John’s songs on the wireless someday, what the DJ might say about him and his friends as they lined up the next track. Would they mention his degree? How hard he’d worked to get their little band off the ground? Would they mention him at all? John seemed happiest in the background, a silent but steady column keeping everything upright.

They wouldn’t mention you, you knew that. Or Mickey, or Gladys, or this bakery. They’d never know what a good influence 64 Oslo Square had been. They would never know how insular John was when he started, and how proud you were of him for wanting to get better. They would see someone quiet, distant, but smart, so smart, and never know just how far he’d come.

You weren’t part of his story. Or maybe you were, in a way. A book, tucked away in a corner of the library that only you and John knew was there. Either way, it wasn’t important. DJs and music magazines and record sales didn’t matter to you. Knowing John was better for meeting you and your home was all the acclaim you needed.

You looked over at John. He was smiling to himself as he fiddled with the papery skin of an onion, probably trying to decide if he’d chopped enough.

Memories of the boy who walked into the bakery on that rainy night flooded your mind. So nervous he could barely get his words out, so thin he was shuddering despite his old jumper. Now here he was, in your home, making dinner with you, smiling at you-

John had caught you looking.

You cleared your throat awkwardly.

The song on the radio changed to something more upbeat, a Slade song.

“So, this show, where is it again?” you asked, turning back to the pasta boiling on the stove.

“A club down in Soho, I think. The Regent? Le Régent? I don’t know. Freddie saw the name and picked it. God knows what the place is like.”

You shrugged.

“Sticky floors, horrible loos, grabby men. They’re all one in the same.”

“Yeahhh, I don’t mind you missing this one, to be honest. It won’t be glam.”

John turned and leaned against the sideboard. He was so tall, he could perch on the side without needing to hoist himself up.

You just kept your eyes down. If you stared at his hips for too long, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist pinning them against the counter.

“Don’t worry, when we go out, I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

It was such a bold statement, it surprised you, and all you could think to do was laugh.

“Oh, really?”

“Only the best for my boss.”

“I’m not your boss.”

“Aren’t you?”

When you looked back over your shoulder, John had turned his back again and was chopping vegetables innocently. His face was half hidden by his long, wavy hair but there was no missing the smirk in his voice.

You watched his arm move up and down, up and down, and marvelled at how slim he really was. You could see his bony elbow poking through his brown chequered shirt with every shunk of the knife against the chopping block, though you were pleased to find you could no longer pick out his ribs as his body turned. Your plan to feed him up a bit was clearly working.

Against your better judgement, you let your gaze travel slowly, slowly down.

John’s tiny waist seemed made for your hands. The contrasting curve of his hips made you dizzy. You could almost feel your fingers sinking into them, see his pretty face flush with embarrassment at how much he enjoyed you touching him, until your palms began to tingle. You rolled your open hands into fists, squeezing tight.

You could sweep his long hair aside and press kisses down his spine, your hands still kneading at his hips, until he had melted beneath you. So tall, far taller than you, especially in his heels, and now there was a thought.

All it would take was one hand on the small of his back, pressing down gently until he was bent over the counter, his face pressed into the cold linoleum and his arse in the air.

You couldn’t help thinking John always wore those tight trousers just to antagonise you. You ached to run your hand over him, to feel the soft black velvet against your skin, to hear John gasp as your fitted your hips against him and leaned down, your chest against his back, your hair tickling his neck, your mouth near his ear as you told him how pretty he looked and how long you’d been thinking about fucking him, just like this.

“I know a place near my uni. It’s nice there, you’ll like it.”

You looked up, your eyes heavy.

John was smiling at you. It was such a lovely smile, but all you could think about was the warmth of his flushed skin against yours, the pathetic whines and moans that would fall from his funny mouth, and the ache between your thighs.

He was right there. You could have him if you wanted. All you’d have to do is cross the kitchen and kiss him, hard, so hard he couldn’t possibly doubt how much you needed him, and then he’d be yours.

He’d be in your bed, looking up at you with those big, clever grey-green eyes and begging you for more, grinding down on your fingers, his pretty hair spread across the pillow, his legs wrapped around your waist.

“Fuck me, love. Ohhhn… Want you inside me, darlin’. Fuck…”

His mouth would fall open as he watched you spread his legs even further apart, boots still on, his pink tongue pressing against the little gap in his teeth.

“What do we say?”

“Pleasepleaseplease, make me cum, please.”

“Good boy.”

“I promise, no sticky floors and no grabby men.”

John sipped his cup of tea.

You swallowed thickly.

“None at all?”

He laughed and shook his head at you, but didn’t rise to your challenge, much to your disappointment. Instead, John poked at a slice of onion with the tip of the knife.

“Are these alright?”

They were perfect. Of course they were.

After dinner, John disappeared into your room to get changed into his stage gear. When he came back, you had to pick your jaw up off the floor.

You weren’t sure what you’d expected. The last few times you’d seen John perform, he’d either opted for jeans and a T-shirt with his band’s name on it or borrowed things from his friends. It seemed he’d finally gone shopping.

“Do you like it?”

John beamed as he turned this way and that, showing you his black satin suit from every angle. The material shone in the light, framing his body neatly. The jacket pulled in at the waist, its shoulders contrastingly broad, and was open enough to show off the silk shirt he wore underneath.

“Yeah.” You took a breath. “I love it.”

John grinned. He clearly felt good. He ought to, looking like that.

You let your gaze follow the length of the suit, from his open collar right down to his red woollen socks. They offered a sliver of another part of John’s personality, a homely frugality that you couldn’t help finding endearing.

Cute as it was, you soon found yourself staring at his chest again. John was usually so bundled up against the cold, to see any of his skin sent you into an almost Victorian stupor, and now here he was, his chest bared down to the bottom of his sternum. You realised you were biting your lip.

“It’s thanks to you guys that I could buy it. I’ve been eyeing it in the shop for weeks. Thought you ought to be the first to see it.” John was peering in the mirror above the mantle, angling his chin this way and that. “Do you really like it?”

“You look great.”

You meant to say more but John started to play with the buttons on his shirt, toying with the idea of undoing one more.

“Come on, then. Let’s see this hair,” you said quickly.

With a woeful sigh, John turned away from the mirror and went to remove his hat but stopped with his fingers wrapped around its brim.

“You promise you won’t laugh?”

“I promise,” you lied. “C’mon, you’ll be late. How bad can it be?”

With an awkward smile, John took off his hat.

You pressed your lips together. When you were sure you had control of your smile, you tried to think of something reassuring to say. You came up blank.

“Oh, John…”

He groaned and let his head fall back, his eyes squeezed shut as if in agony.

“My sister does it when she wants to make her hair curly,” John moaned. “She taught me over the phone but I don’t think I did it right.”

You couldn’t resist, you had to laugh. John had wound two pencils into the front pieces of his hair, not the craziest idea in the world, but they’d somehow become tangled and were now stuck. One pencil was sticking almost straight up in the air. You couldn’t imagine how long it had taken John to get them under his hat.

John looked wretched.

“Is it bad?”

“No.”

“You said that a bit quick.”

You offered what you hoped was a reassuring sort of smile.

“It’s fixable.”

“Darling,” John moaned, drawing out the sounds so woefully, you’d finished laughing by the time you realised what he’d called you.

“It’s alright! It’s alright, we can sort this. God, all those brains and you can’t curl your own hair,” you laughed and shook your head. “God help us all if you ever do become an engineer.”

You directed him to the sofa so you could get a proper look at the top of his head. While you poked and fiddled with the pencils, you tried not to think about how you’d ended up standing between his legs again, and how nice it was to have him looking up at you.

After a moment or two of you muttering under your breath and John wincing every other second, the silence clearly became too much for him.

“Where are you from?”

You frowned, carefully turning one of the pencils between your fingers.

“What?”

The stereo in the corner was still crooning on, something low and slow that the DJ had swooned over. ‘For all you lovers out there…’ he’d schmoozed. ‘Something to set the mood and get you feeling good…’. You and John had just tried your best to ignore it.

John shrugged as best he could considering his precarious position.

“I’ve just realised I’ve never asked.”

“You won’t know it.”

“Try me.”

You looked down, smiling.

“Wandsworth.”

John thought for a moment then shook his head - carefully.

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know it.”

You laughed but stopped when you accidentally tugged too hard and it made John yelp.

“Sorry, sorry. How did you even manage to- It’s on the other side of the river.”

“Oh, the nice part of town?”

You snorted.

“Johnny, this is the nice part of town.”

“Ahhh, so you’re from the wrong side of the tracks? Or river.”

“That’s me, a real wrong’n.”

“Yeah, I see it now, you’ve got a streak a mile wide.”

Your fingers slipped and you accidentally tugged on John’s hair again. This time, the little whimper he gave in response made you press your thighs together.

Trying you best to keep your expression neutral, you asked,

“Murderous?”

“Hmm… Maybe when Alastair is about.”

You looked down at him again.

There was something about John knowing you, what you liked and what you didn’t, who you hated and what you wanted out of life, that made your chest lurch. You couldn’t recall anyone ever wanting to learn about you, to see you, or even listen to you like John did. Even if he did use it as ammunition to tease you.

“He won’t be around long. Gladys will see sense soon enough. She’s not as green as she is cabbage-looking.”

John exhaled sharply through his nose, agreeing.

You just smiled and tried to ignore the nagging doubt in the pit of your stomach. Hope that your boss would see sense, that Alastair would just leave you alone, was always closely followed by a grim stab of dread.

With one final twist, one of the pencils came free and you gave a triumphant little cheer.

“One down, one to go. No WHSmith trip for you.”

John leaned back, craning his neck to try and catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror about the mantle. As he did, his hands came up to rest on your hips, an anchor so that he could lean back far enough without toppling over.

“How does it look?”

“Well…”

You couldn’t fault John’s sister’s logic. The pencil had certainly done the trick. John’s already wavy hair had pinged up into a perfectly coiled curl, though it probably wasn’t quite what he’d imagined.

Considering he had less than two hours to get to the venue and sort himself out, you decided you’d hold off on delivering the bad news for now. Instead, you slipped your hand around his jaw and turned John’s attention back to you. The other pencil was at a more hopeful angle but was much more tangled.

You grimaced, then gave a low whistle.

“I don’t know, New Boy. Might have to get the scissors.”

John snapped his head up, his eyes wide.

“Kidding! Kidding.”

His hands didn’t leave your hips until he got up to leave.

In an empty lecture hall in South London, rehearsals had been rolling on for seven hours now, and Queen had been arguing for at least six of those.

“I just think if we keep the refrain going for, you know, a more… It would sound better.”

“We’ve already got enough bloody refrain on this track. It’s practically trippin’ over itself with how much bloody refrain you’ve stuck on it.”

“Oh, don’t be fucking childish.”

Roger and Brian had started to bicker from the moment they picked up their instruments. What was meant to be constructive criticism had come out much more condescending than was probably intended, which led to muttered comments under Roger’s breath, which, in turn, led to Brian getting defensive.

“I just think it needs a bit more towards the bridge, there. It’s stopping and starting at the moment.”

“It’s stopping because you keep stopping it! It’s fine as it is! There’s more than enough guitar on this one already, the bloody concert’ll be- People wanna get home, you know!”

Fearing they weren’t going to get much work done at this rate, Freddie attempted to act as peacekeeper, but he couldn’t resist dropping in the odd unhelpful comment. Soon, they were all squabbling like boys on the schoolyard, arms crossed and bottoms lips jutted out.

John sat in the corner and watched. He had one long leg slung over the other, his bass a familiar, comforting weight in his lap. While he waited for his friends to finish their argument, he sighed and rested his chin on the instrument’s rib, its sleek black body cool against his skin.

His fingers itched to play. It felt like ages since he’d been able to just switch off his mind, close his eyes and pluck out a rhythm that would slot in nicely with songs formed months before he joined the band.

He shifted his bass again, so that it lay across both his thighs. It reminded him of you, of how wonderful you’d felt sitting in his lap the night you patched him up and saved him from the cold. John felt something in chest tighten, then roll through his body to his stomach. He blew out a long breath.

He couldn’t believe you’d actually worried about being too heavy for him. He couldn’t believe you had no idea how much he’d loved being close to you and how his body had missed yours ever since. John hugged his bass closer, wrapping his arms around it and catching his own wrist to hold it tight, until he could almost imagine its body was yours, warm, soft, and everything he dreamt of.

“John won’t go for that.”

He looked up at the sound of his name. Roger was smirking at him. Beside him, Freddie looked worryingly hopeful.

“Go for what?”

“I just think our look could be vamped up a bit!”

Freddie was already on the defensive and he hadn’t even explained his idea yet, a tell-tale sign that John wasn’t going to like this one bit.

John glanced at Brian, who looked indifferent, and Roger, who seemed excited to see his reaction. He raised his eyebrows and Freddie sighed.

“I just think we could try coordinating a little better. A strong colour scheme. All of us looking like a band.”

“Yeah, okay,” John said, shrugging. “I’ve got no problem with that.”

“And I was thinking we could wear a bit more makeup.”

John’s face fell.

“No.”

“Deaky.”

“No way.”

“Everyone does it!”

“I don’t!”

“Deaky, it’s fine,” Roger rolled his eyes. “It’s just a bit of eyeliner, it��s not gonna kill you.”

John wrinkled his nose but stayed quiet. He knew when to pick his battles and, more importantly, he knew when he was outnumbered and likely to lose. Still, logistically there were still some issues.

“Where do I even get eyeliner?”

John thought he heard Freddie mutter something like ‘oh, for fuck’s sake’ under his breath, but Roger cut in before he could protest.

“Shops, Deaky. Come on.”

“I won’t have time! I’m always either at uni or work. I barely make it to gigs with enough time to get changed as it is.”

“Why don’t you ask your girlfriend! She wears eyeliner, I’ve seen it. And hey,” Roger grinned like a cat. “She could even put it on for you.”

John didn’t have the energy to argue. He shut his mouth again, his skin prickling with embarrassment as his friends murmured in agreement, smiling wicked smiles and whistling like teenagers.

“I’m not wearing any bloody makeup,” John said firmly, crossing his arms over his bass. “That’s the end of it.”

That’s how you found yourself between John’s knees, again, leaning in so that you could rub an eyeliner pencil dangerously close to his eyeball.

John was not taking it like a champ. For one thing, he kept bloody blinking. And he was gripping your elbow so tightly, you were starting to lose circulation.

“You know, John,” You smiled as you prised your arm from his grip for the third time. “This’ll only take a second if you just let me do it.”

John’s forehead creased, his funny mouth drawn into a thin line as he begrudgingly set his hands down by his sides. He slipped them under the lip of the table and held on so tight, his knuckles began to pale. So lanky, so smart, so sensible, and terrified of a pencil.

“So, this was Freddie’s idea?”

Immediately, you regretted asking. John scowled, almost making you drag the eyeliner across his temple.

“Stupid idea. I’m gonna look ridiculous.”

You couldn’t help smiling. You’d never seen John so cross and moody before.

“You’ll look fine.”

“It won’t suit me,” John pouted. “I haven’t got the right… Face for it. Roger and Freddie, even Brian, they’re…”

He trailed off, closing his eyes with a woebegone sigh.

Oh, no. You weren’t going to let him wriggle off the hook that easily.

You lifted John’s chin with three fingers, thinking it would force him to meet your eyes, but his stayed closed.

You slipped your thumb over his chin, his slight stubble rough against your skin, and pressed down gently.

“What?” you asked, giving his chin a little shake.

John didn’t open his eyes but you did manage to encourage a little smile out of him.

Pleased with your small win, you brushed your thumb across his chin again, more gently now, the tip of your thumbnail just skirting along the edge of his bottom lip. You ached to reach just that little bit further and tug it down. That would get his attention.

“You’re just as pretty as those idiots, Johnny. And twice as talented. And you’ve got one thing they ‘aven’t got.”

“What’s that?”

You grinned.

“Me.”

John finally opened his eyes and gazed at you softly. He looked tired, too tired for a boy his age, tired right down to his bones, his soul.

You watched his silvery green eyes cross your face, and found yourself wondering, not for the first time, what on earth he was thinking about when he looked at you like that.

“I’ve got you, do I?” he said quietly.

You tapped your thumb sweetly against his chin, then finally let him go.

“Actually, could you close your eyes again? It’s easier like that.”

John flinched when the tiny brush met his eyelid.

You felt bad. To his credit, John had never worn any makeup before so you knew it must feel odd for him. When he shyly brought it up earlier that afternoon, you thought he must be joking, but John had looked so mortified, you knew he wouldn’t put himself through it unless someone was making him.

You glanced at the clock on the mantle. Just half an hour before he needed to get going. John was already dressed and ready to go, you just had to make him look presentable, he’d said. A laughable idea. He looked amazing tonight. He always did. So amazing, you couldn’t help yourself.

“You smell nice. What is it?”

John opened one eye, almost sleepily.

“Hm?”

“What are you wearing?”

“Nothing.”

You laughed softly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

John blinked, then shot you an embarrassed, lopsided smile.

It was difficult to ignore just how good it felt to be close to him again. John’s bony knees were at either side of your hips, pressing in ever so slightly whenever your eyeliner poked somewhere it shouldn’t.

You hummed to yourself, turning his chin to the left, then the right, making sure you’d jabbed the pencil everywhere you needed to. Neither of you seemed to realise there really was no need for you to be touching each other quite so much.

Instead, you just tried to focus on making sure you didn’t poke his eye out. It was infinitely more difficult putting makeup on another person, it was taking all your concentration not to make John look like a B movie monster.

“How’s school going?” you asked, breaking the silence.

John smiled against your palm.

“I love that you call it that.”

“It is school!”

He was grinning now.

“It’s going well.”

You held up two blushes, one deep red, one pale pink, then told him to open his eyes again. John wearily chose the latter, probably hoping it would be less visible than the other.

You dabbed a brush that had definitely seen better days into the powder and told him to smile.

“Are you top of your class?”

“It doesn’t really work like that.”

“But?”

You raised your eyebrows and John’s forced smile turned a little more real.

“Yeah, I am.”

“That’s my boy.” You dabbed at his cheeks, hoping it would look something like what Freddie had envisioned. “Teach me something.”

John shrugged then laughed when you told him off for shuffling around too much.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Which pliers are your favourite?”

John shot you a dark look as you lifted his chin again.

“You tease me far too much for someone who also claims to like me.”

“And you get shy far too much for a boy who once said he ‘fancied me like mad’.”

“I might’ve had a drink or two that night. Sorry.”

“Ahh, so you don’t fancy me like mad, that was just the Stella talking.”

John shot you nervous, crooked sort of a smile.

“I didn’t say that,” he said quietly.

Stunned, you stopped painting his cheeks. You knew you must be staring but you just needed to see him, to see into him, to know if he was just teasing you or if behind that shy smile, John really meant what he was saying. You saw nothing but real, if bashful, honesty in those clever eyes. It knocked you for six.

“See,” You poked his chest with the end of your brush. “Gone all shy again. You’re blushing.”

John rolled his eyes.

“That’s the make up.” Then, as if realising he had no real reason not to be honest with you, he added, “It’s hard not to blush when there’s a pretty girl holding my face and teasing me.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your ears.

“You like it when I tease you?”

“God help me if I didn’t, it’s all you do.”

His hands were warm on the backs of your bare thighs. When did that happen? He was keeping you close but without any urgency or force, his touch so gentle you hadn’t even registered his hands resting there.

“You’re easy to tease. You’re so ridiculous.”

You felt John’s fingers tighten, ever so slightly, against the backs of your thighs. You were suddenly acutely aware that you were wearing a skirt. All it would take was one act of bravery, from either of you, and those hands could be sliding up under it.

“How!”

“You’re just all…” You gestured at him, up and down. “Skinny little thing with huge hair and big fuck off boots and… You’re just brilliant. I like you so much.”

Those last few words came out a lot quieter than you’d intended. In fact, you hadn’t intended them at all. A shyness you weren’t at all used to began to settle over you as John’s kind, clever eyes searched yours again. He was smiling such a lovely smile.

“I like you too,” John said softly.

Was it your imagination or had he moved closer? His back was straighter, his chin raised. John’s fingertips were now pressing into the backs of your bare thighs in a way that was impossible to ignore or pass off as an accident.

But then he let go, and all the tension between your two bodies dissapited at once, like all the air had been let back into the room. John gave you another wonky smile, tucking his hands under his own thighs for good measure.

“Marks on the outfit tonight?”

Letting out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding, you tried your best to stoke a smile.

“Oh, ten out of ten. Especially like the, um… What is this?”

When John came into work that morning, he had carried with him several bags and his bass guitar, all balanced precariously on his borrowed wheels. After his rounds, he stayed to help in the bakery and to your delight, had asked if you’d help him get ready again.

You’d only caught a flash of dark silk cloth when he showed you his outfit, stuffed unceremoniously into one of 64 Oslo Square’s own pristine white bags. Now you could see the whole ensemble and you still weren’t entirely sure what it was meant to be.

John tugged at the front of the black tunic. It had long flowing sleeve and stark, white panels that fell like a cape down his sides and his back.

“It might’ve been a wedding dress at some point? I think that’s what Freddie said?”

You flicked at the ruffles at the tops of his sleeves and shook your head.

“Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. I do love it though. All of it.”

You let your gaze slip down his front, from the white stripes that hung across his chest, to his shiny black and white platforms.

You loved those shoes. You’d often fantasised about telling John to keep them on while you tugged down his stupid, tight, faux leather trousers. There was just something about them. They made John’s already insane legs look even longer and so elegant, and the thought of him bending over the bed in them… But you’d only thought about John like that once. Honest.

You tapped the back of his hand, now sitting neatly in his lap.

“I love this ring.”

You couldn’t be certain but you thought you’d seen John wear the onyx signet ring almost every time you’d seen him. It was part of what made him John.

“It’s just an old thing.” He spun the ring around his finger a few times, then took it off and handed it to you. “My sister gave it to me. Well, my mum and my sister. For my eighteenth.”

You could feel John’s eyes on you and you studied the ring. It really was beautiful. Simple but wonderful, just like him.

Without thinking, you slipped the ring onto your index finger. The black stone shone as you held out your hand, turning it this way and that to catch the light.

“It’s lovely.”

John beamed and you felt like you’d unintentionally pleased him, like you’d struck a chord that ran deep through him. You liked the ring his family had given him. That was important to him, whether John realised it or not.

You tried to get it off. Stuck. You held your breath, trying not to panic, and twisted the ring just like John had before he took it off, but it wouldn’t budge. He’d been wearing the ring on his little finger, you remembered, it was only tiny really.

“Oh, shit.”

You twisted it again and again, your bottom lip clamped between your teeth, until John rested his big hands over yours.

“Hey, hey, don’t panic.” He closed his fingers around yours, smiling softly as he raised your hand up so he could get a better look. “I’ve got a trick.”

“W-”

“I’m not gonna bite you. Just- Look, trust me.”

You watched, heart in your throat, as John raised your hand to his lips. He gently folded down your other fingers, leaving your index sticking out.

“Saw this in a film once.”

John kept his eyes down, his eyelashes dark against his cheeks. They were short and blunt, you’d never noticed that before. He was so intriguing. How could someone be so masculine in some ways and so beguiling in others?

Then your fingertips brushed his wonderful, funny mouth and you forgot how to think altogether. John carefully lowered his head until your finger had passed between his lips.

You stared, open-mouthed, as John put his teeth around the edge of the ring and gently pulled back, slowly, steadily, until it finally slipped off your finger.

He grinned, the ring caught between his teeth, then flipped it back onto his tongue and held it out for you to see.

You laughed, your cheeks burning. John was still holding your hand.

“See!”

John held the ring up with a flourish, as if he’d just performed a grand magic trick.

You nodded, breathless.

“Yeah.”

It was all you could think to say. You couldn’t think much at all.

John’s gaze slipped over your shoulder. He must’ve seen the clock on the wall, because he checked his watch and sighed.

“Shit.” He squeezed your hand before letting go. “Listen, I’ve got to make a move but- Thanks, love, for everything. Dinner was amazing and so were you and- Just thank you.”

Still feeling a bit dizzy, you tried to summon a smile.

“Anytime, Johnny.”

He had started to gather up his bags and his guitar, but stopped just to tell you,

“I really like it when you call me that.”

“I know. You’re not as difficult to read as you might think, New Boy.”

John looked away for a moment, shaking his head, then he said,

“Thanks again for the…” He gestured vaguely at his face. “I wish you were coming with me.”

“So do I. I’ll be humming your songs to myself all evening, I promise.”

John looked like he wanted to say something else but, again, seemed to think better of it.

“See you tomorrow,” he said instead, then gave you a little wave as he turned to go.

Always so taciturn, never speaking unless he felt it was important, never saying more than was needed, never putting his oar in when he knew it wasn’t necessary. John never said anything without careful, quiet consideration, and even though it had been lovely to watch him slowly relax, trust, and grow in confidence, it was also wonderful to know he was still so uniquely him.

He never spoke without meaning to. The thought chimed like a bell, echoing through your head again and again until realisation finally began to settle in. John never spoke out of turn. He never said what he didn’t mean. So when he said that he’d been thinking about kissing you, all those weeks ago, it hadn’t been a slip of the tongue. It hadn’t been a mistake. He meant it. John meant it.

Suddenly, it felt like your feet had been frozen to the ground. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. And all the while, a prickling, breathless ache swept through your body, until it felt like your heart might beat out of your chest and you had to ball your hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

John had one foot out of the door but when you called his name, he immediately stopped. He leaned back in, surprised.

“Yeah?”

Tell him. Tell him now. Tell him how much you like him, how much you love him, love every bit of him, from his mad, fluffy, lovely hair, right down his ugly socks and his ridiculous shoes. Tell him that he’s the cleverest boy you’ve ever met and you love that he never makes you feel stupid. Tell him that he’s the best part of your day and you’d give anything to have him stay just five more minutes, because watching him leave is always torture.

“I…”

Tell him that you want to take care of him, listen to him, protect him, be there for him, love him, for as long as he’ll have you. Tell him. Just tell him.

But the moment you opened your mouth to speak, those worries that you so often had to push down, finally broke through the dam you’d built to keep them at bay.

John was top of his class at one of the best universities in the city. He was an incredible musician in a band whose popularity was growing by the day. And if all that wasn’t enough, he was gorgeous. What did you have to offer? What would he want with a girl who had never stepped foot in a university and whose future was bolted to a tiny, old, struggling bakery. Why would he want you?

John was still looking at you expectantly, the corner of his funny mouth tugged up into a small smile.

“You okay, love?”

You took a deep breath.

“Do you know why the bakery is called what it is?”

John looked bewildered for a moment, then he laughed.

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

John still looked a little confused but he must have sensed you needed him to answer. He shuffled around his bass and his bag of clothes, then braced his shoulder against the front door to keep it from closing.

“Erm… Gladys was so happy to have her own business that she threw a bit of a do? So she was a bit drunk when she was filling in the forms. Put the address in the wrong place. And she spelt ‘Onslow’ wrong. It just stuck.” John laughed, shaking his head. “She told me it’s because she was in A Doll’s House in secondary school. She’s a mentalist, that woman. Why?”

Because you’re brilliant. And you love this place almost as much as I do. You know it and you know us. You care about something I care about, even though you have a million and one things going on in your life and the stakes are so much lower for you. Because you’re gorgeous. And kind. And just because it feels so new and odd and wonderful to be seen, to be known.

“Nothing,” You smiled and pushed the strap of his bass case further up his shoulder for him. “Have fun, rockstar.”

Queen played well that night. They were always brilliant but tonight just felt different.

Maybe it was because Mickey was able to come in today and you hadn’t worn yourself out to the point of tears. Maybe it was because Roger had grabbed you excitedly by the shoulders when he saw you, kissed your cheek and told you to come backstage after the show. Maybe it was because you’d spent the afternoon doing John’s make up again, and seeing a flicker of jealousy cross his painted and usually impassive face sent a surge of excitement through your chest.

Not even your deep running insecurities could deny that John, shy as he was, seemed to be playing to you that night. For once, he stayed near the front of the stage where you could see him. And what a sight.

You’d always been a sucker for a pretty boy, but John was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen, and standing there, his legs spread, his satiny clothes clinging to every inch of him, you found yourself pressing your thighs together with every thrum of his bass through the speakers.

You watched, transfixed, as his long, elegant fingers danced down the neck of his bass, the fingers of his other hand tugging and pulling at the strings with such strength and dexterity, you couldn’t help imagining how he’d use them on you.

You raised your heavy gaze to meet his. John was bobbing his head to his own beat, lost in the music. When he saw you looking, he smirked and tossed his hair back over his shoulder, his hips rocking enticingly back and forth as the music suddenly picked up its pace.

You couldn’t take much more of this.

After the show, you headed backstage as instructed, your ears still ringing from Brian’s outrageous guitar solo and the pounding of drums through the speakers.

You’d never been backstage before. There were no bodyguards, no dark heavy curtains or growled requests to see a pass, but it was backstage after a great gig, and that was pretty cool.

You picked your way through the cold, narrow corridors, following the signs that lead you to what had generously been called a green room. Queen’s name was sellotaped to the door.

Pushing your way inside, you found the band busy meeting their fans. There was a big crowd, surprisingly big actually. You stood in the doorway, taken-aback. You knew the boys had fans, but you didn’t realise they were this popular.

Brian was talking with a man in a dark suit, probably the owner of the club. They stood seriously in the corner, plastic cups full of something amber-coloured in their hands.

Roger and Freddie were in the midst of a big cluster of kids - a mixed group, all shapes and sizes - chatting, signing programmes and tickets, and posing for the odd photograph.

It took you a moment to find John. He was sitting in the corner on a small leather sofa, keeping out of the way. He had a drink in one hand that he hadn’t touched and was chatting quietly to a girl.

You hesitated. They were sat very close together. The girl was beautiful, all dark hair and big brown eyes, and she was listening intently to whatever it was John was saying.

Roger noticed you first. He thanked the lad he was talking to, then made his way over to you.

“Bakery girl! I’m so glad you’re here. Did you bring any cake? I’m Hank Marvin.”

“Hi, Rog. Sorry, love, not tonight.”

“I’m coming by tomorrow, you can’t lead a boy on like this,” Roger beamed. “Deaks, your girlfriend’s turned up empty-handed!”

At that, John looked up. When he spotted you, he immediately brightened.

You gave him a thin smile and mouthed that you’d meet him outside. You didn’t wait for him to respond before you slipped back into the corridor and out into the cool night air.

John was still hiking his bass onto his back when he found you standing under a lamppost, just a few feet away from the entrance to the club. Your eyes were down, your arms crossed over your chest. You hadn’t noticed him yet.

John was so pleased to see you, he wasn’t looking where he was going. He walked right out into the middle of the road, his feet barely touching the ground, he was so excited to reach you.

A car horn blared.

“Look what you’re doing!”

John almost jumped out of his skin and hurried the rest of the way across the road, just as an old Cortina went whistling past with a rude gesture out the rear window.

“What is it with you ‘n’ not looking where you’re going?”

You were shaking your head, smiling softly. The lamplight from above meant your face was partly in shadow, but the half he could see was looking at him so fondly, John couldn’t tell if his racing heart was from the shock of the car horn or because of you.

He shot you a lopsided sort of a smile.

“Distracted. Sorry.”

He offered to walk you home and to John’s delight, you accepted. You weren’t far from the bakery, maybe a ten minute walk, so you set off together instead of heading for the tube station.

John didn’t notice the quiet at first. He was never usually the first to start a conversation or the one doing most of the talking, but tonight he found himself chatting your ear off about the gig, the audience’s reaction, the trouble they had with the sound, everything.

When you finally did speak, it was quiet and considered.

“Lot of fans you lads have now.”

John laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s funny, I never really thought about that side of it. It’s funny hearing people sing along to the songs still. I had a bloke ask me to sign his shirt the other day. Me!”

You nodded slowly, lips pouted. John should’ve known he was in trouble then.

“Lots of girls around you back there.”

John shrugged, suddenly feeling bashful.

"Oh, I’m sure it's just that when they come round to get autographs, they move in a cluster from one person to the other.”

“That girl you were chatting to was pretty.”

John glanced across at you. Your head was down, your arms still crossed over your chest. He sighed and came to a halt, his bass knocking against his back.

You took a few steps past him before you realised he’d stopped. When you finally noticed, you shook your head at him, your eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown.

“What?”

You seemed to be making an effort to keep your voice steady and stern, but there was a flash of something behind your eyes. You were hurt.

John stuck his hands in his pockets, his shoulders almost up to his ears. As comfortable as he was with you, it was still strange to speak his mind. It didn’t come naturally but he wanted to get better, for you.

“Can we not do this?”

“What?”

“You being cross with me for something I haven’t done.”

“I’m not cross!”

That came out a lot louder than you intended. You looked away.

John watched you swing your arms, hardly able to meet his eyes. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you so nervous. He couldn’t help grinning. You were jealous.

“The girl I was talking to is Freddie’s sister. She’s in the year below me, she was asking about uni applications.”

He watched, still smiling, as you visibly deflated.

“Oh.”

There was a painful sort of pause.

John waited for you to speak again but you seemed to be struggling to string together a sentence. He resisted the urge to tease you about it. As much as you liked to toy with him, you’d never once made fun of him for being quiet. And he loved you for it.

John stepped closer, keeping his hands in his pockets and his eyes on yours.

“There were a lot of girls back there, yes. But I’m walking home with you,” he said, steady and quiet and sure. “It’s you who got me a job, and looks after me, and makes me laugh.”

You scoffed.

“That’s all you like me for, is it? Cos I gave you my bike and I make you laugh and feed you like a stray cat?”

“Yes. And…” John smiled. “And you’re kind to me. And you listen to me. And you’re beautiful and smart and… You’re so beautiful, you make my chest feel like it’s… I only want to walk home with you. I only ever want to be with you.”

John waited, heart pounding, for your verdict. You seemed stunned. In all honesty, he couldn’t believe he’d said those things either. But he meant it. He meant every word. It was about time he stopped mucking about and just told you how he really felt.

After what felt like an eternity, your astonished expression sank into a sweet smile, then a full on grin.

“You’re always full of surprises, New Boy,” you said, and laughed softly.

You fell into step beside each other again, stealing glances at each other just to catch the other doing it too. It was thrilling, the start of something wonderful, or just two people realising they had been in the middle of something for a long time and were relieved to find the other there too.

John couldn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed, so completely at ease, but it would probably be the last time he was with you.

“It’s mad that you live around here,” he said as you walked down a row of gleaming department stores. “It’s so posh, I don’t even wanna look in the windows.”

You snorted.

“I couldn’t even afford their coat hangers.”

“It’s strange the bakery’s struggling so much considering where it is. And there’s always a queue round the corner. Is it the rent, or..?”

“Er…”

You didn’t know how to answer. In fact, you looked a little embarrassed, like you’d never really thought about it before. Gladys had just always said that the bakery was barely getting by and no one thought to ask. Everyone was struggling right now.

“Well, yeah, I suppose,” you said, shrugging. “And there’s ingredients and the energy bills…”

“You just always seem to sell out and your customers are always pretty well-off.”

“Gladys does all the books herself. Maybe she’s just shit at maths.”

“I could take a look?”

He knew as soon as he said it that that was a step too far. They didn’t need his help. They could look after themselves just fine. He hadn’t meant to sound patronising but John still felt awkward.

“I’m sure Gladys knows what she’s doing,” he added quickly.

“Well, let’s not go mental.”

You gave a scornful laugh, then squeezed John’s hand to make sure he knew he hadn't offended you. He squeezed back gratefully.

You nodded at a glossy car showroom on the other side of the road. Ferraris. Chevys. Bentleys.

“You know, I’ve lived in this city all my life and I’ve never been in any of these shops.”

This part of the city was a honeycomb of luxury stores you would never dream of touching, let alone passing through their doors. They hurt to look at.

John shook his head.

“Me neither.”

“You might soon. Roger was telling me someone from a record company might come see you perform.”

John spoke without his teeth separating.

“They might.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” John’s smile was forced. “Yeah it would be. Good, I mean. It’d be good. Great, even.”

Of course, you never missed a trick.

“John?”

He sighed, pushing his balled up fists deeper into the pockets of his jumper.

“It really was just supposed to be part-time. This wasn’t part of the plan.”

“What plan?”

“My plan.”

You knew a little about his childhood, the uncertainty and worry of it all, so he felt comfortable talking about it. Unpredictability made a boy grow up thinking about every penny. John liked to plan and think and organise because his life, so far, had been anything but. There was control in order, and safety in the ordinary.

You slipped your arm though his.

“It’s going to be alright, you know. If things do pick up with the band. I know it sounds terrifying but,” You grinned. “It’s also very, very cool, John.”

Your smile helped to ease the ache in his chest a little, but John’s mind was whirring.

“But what if-”

You stopped, and your arm looped through his meant he stopped too.

“You’re gonna keep them on track. You’re going to keep them safe. You’re going to make sure no one messes you around, or takes you for granted, or tries to take something you made and put their name on it. They need you, John. They can’t do it without you.”

He looked down at his shoes, shaking his head, almost in disbelief.

“You’re so lovely.”

Still staring at the floor, he missed your soft smile, but John felt you move closer. Just as his heart began to flutter, you took your arm back. He immediately missed your touch but before he could begin to feel disappointed, you slipped your hands into his.

“You said they went through how many bassists before they met you? They were looking for a good musician, yeah, but you’ve got something they didn’t. A brain.”

John looked up, laughing softly, but your gaze was clear and steady. He’d never felt so seen, so held.

“You’re so smart, John. You see things other people don’t. And if one day you decide you don’t wanna do it anymore then that’s fine. But if you don’t do it because you’re too scared? Well, then…”

John felt something in his chest shift. There had been a belt wrapped around his heart - growing steadily tighter and tighter by the day - ever since he learned about this man from the record company coming to see them play. You’d finally loosened it.

“It means I wouldn’t be able to be your delivery boy anymore,” he murmured.

That was perhaps the worst thing of all. His time was already fractionated into countless pieces. If music became a full time thing, he wouldn’t be able to see you every day. John wasn’t sure how often he’d be able to see you at all.

He thought your smile looked pained as you squeezed his hands. You’d been worrying about it too.

“You were always too good for me, darlin’. Us. For us. The bakery.” You smiled, soft and sad. “I knew you were too good to be true.”

John wanted to argue. He wanted to tell you that you were wrong, he wasn’t too good for anything, but especially you. He wanted to stay. He loved his life, he loved the bakery, he loved being with you, learning from you, talking to you, making dinner with you, making you laugh, all of it, every moment. He wanted to tell you that he wasn’t going anywhere. But he also didn’t want to lie to you.

“They need you, New Boy.”

“Don’t you need me?”

“I want you, that’s different.”

John raised his eyebrows. To his utter delight, you shyly glanced away, your lips pressed together as you tried to keep back a smile.

“It’s not up to me,” you soldiered on. “You need to do whatever you need to do. But I’m gonna support you, no matter what.”

His heart was going like the clappers. John could hardly piece a sentence together at the best of times, least of all around you, but now, he could hardly gather a solid thought.

You were so good. He couldn’t believe he’d found you. In all the world, all its mess, all its people, he’d made one decision and found you, as easy and as simple as crossing the road and spotting the one shop with all its lights still on. A lighthouse, he thought, calling him home.

“Think maybe you’re the one who’s too good to be true, love,” John whispered.

Those soft, gentle eyes. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. You had this way of looking at him, of being with him, it made John feel like the only man in the world. You liked him, he knew you did. So why couldn’t he just lean forward and kiss you? Why shouldn’t he?

His gaze dropped to your lips, just for a second, but when he met your eyes again, John knew you’d noticed.

You started to smile.

His heart in his throat, John placed your left hand on his hip so that his right was free to hold your cheek.

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch with a soft sigh.

“Of course, if you want to stay, you can,” you said quietly. “I’ve got used to having you around, New Boy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

You seemed so small in his hands, but there was something there, in the way you’d looked at him before your eyes slipped shut, in the way your fingers pressed into his hip, ever-so-slightly pulling him into you. You weren’t surrendering to him. He was only taking the lead because you were allowing it. The thought set John’s heart racing.

“Maybe I could still do a couple of odd shifts. You know. Every now and then.”

“Weekends would be good.”

“You’re in charge, Captain.”

You opened your eyes. They were dark and full in the low light.

“I’ll hold you to that, Johnny.”

John swallowed hard.

A shout across the street made him falter. There was a crowd of young men, all six sheets to the wind and staggering on uncertain legs. They started whooping and hollering at you, waving bottles of beer starwards.

John let his hand drop back to his side.

“Idiots,” he muttered, mostly because he was fairly certain he’d been about to kiss you just then, and now he couldn’t feel his legs.

You rolled your eyes.

“Do you wanna come in?”

You nodded over your shoulder to the bakery, now just a few shops down.

It pained John to shake his head.

“Can’t. I have an exam in the morning, I should get home.”

You blinked, then laughed.

“You amaze me, Johnny.”

“Thanks for coming tonight… I haven’t told you… I’ve been meaning to… I wanted to tell you that it’s been really nice seeing you, um… I can’t think of a nice way to phrase this.”

You squeezed his hip in what he was sure was meant to be a reassuring way, but it took everything in him not to whimper.

“Just go for it,” you said, smiling.

John took a deep breath.

“Things are mad here, I know. And they always have been but especially now, with Mickey away so much and Gladys… You haven’t had any time for yourself and I can see it, you’ve been… You’re like me, you’ve felt stuck. But lately you’ve been going out and making time for yourself and… Look, I don’t really know what I’m talking about but it’s just really nice to see you so happy.”

It was probably the most he’d spoken in one go in weeks, maybe even months, but it didn’t feel as exhausting as it usually did. John knew that was because of you.

You squeezed his hip again. John had to bite back a moan.

“Thank you for reminding me that I’m allowed to have some fun,” you said, beaming.

You were good for each other, John knew that now. Physical touch no longer felt painful, because of you. Speaking his mind no longer felt like an impossibility. You hadn’t fixed him, as so many had tried to. You’d just given him the room to feel comfortable, to feel at home, and that was all he’d needed. You were good for him. Good to him. How could he ever give you up?

“Thanks for doing my makeup.”

It was a stupid thing to say, John knew it, but you were almost at the bakery door now and he didn’t want the conversation to stop, or this night to end.

“Oh, it was a pleasure. A very genuine pleasure.”

You reached up and delicately swiped your thumb under his bottom eyelashes, brushing away smudged eyeliner that he couldn’t wait to be rid of.

“It’s easy when you have such a willing participant. You were such a good boy for me.”

John almost tripped over himself at that. He recovered well, or at least he thought so. You were smiling ever so mischievously as you slipped your key into the door.

“You sure you won’t come in? The sofa’s got your name on it. Or, you know…”

Your boldness could’ve knocked him flat.

John wanted to say ‘yes’, and many other, much lewder things, more than anything in the world. He wanted to hold your face in his hands again and press his lips against yours, back you up against the door and kiss you and kiss you until you could hardly breathe.

He wanted you to pull him inside and up the stairs to your flat. He wanted you to shove him down on the bed, straddle him and just have him, take him, make him yours, and maybe even allow him to make you his in return.

But it was late. And your conversation had made him sad, though the conclusion had been a reassuring one. He was tired, and worried about the future, and not looking forward to getting up at the crack of dawn for this stupid exam.

“Soon,” John said. “I promise.”

He wasn’t sure if that last part was for him or for you. Maybe both. John just hoped you knew how painful it was to step back from the bakery, turn away from you for the night, and head home to his lonely, lonely bed.

Master List

#john deacon #john deacon fic #john deacon x reader #john deacon reader #queen #queen fanfiction

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to-the-stars8 · 2 years

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Learning To Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3 --Long author's note at the end

27-Sherlock Holmes and Reading Habits

Everyone knows why vigilantes exist in Gotham because the city is amazingly fucked up in several different ways, but no one talks about what it’s like to live with those vigilantes. Most of the time, they do exactly what anyone would think. They come in and beat up the bad guys before fading into the shadows. Most people think about them all that much--Not now anyway.

At first, everyone was on the edge of their seat to know what Batman and his batfamily were doing and how they were doing it. Now, since it had been so many years, hardly anyone glanced at the newspaper and it wasn’t surprising anymore to see a vigilante hanging around on a random fire escape or rooftop. Then, if it was so common, why the hell were you freaking out when you saw the Red Hood in your living room?

You were walking in from a late shift when you saw him walking out of your living room, looking around like he was looking for something. It took you a full ten seconds to not only noticed him but also ask yourself what the hell you did for him to be there.

You didn’t scream, which surprised you, but, instead, asked, “Oh my God, who are you?” The moment the words slipped from you you tried to cover your tracks, to explain away as to yes, you knew who the Red Hood was. You could feel your heart quicken because the man was built like a Greek god and tall. It could have been the straps on his thick thighs or the way his arm muscles flexed, but you could feel your cheeks heat up. “Wait-uh, no, I meant why are you here?”

“I’m looking for a lady named…” He held up a phone, reading the name. “Sacha. She lives here?”

“What the hell did she do?” You asked, hoping, greatly, that the only nice semi-crime-free apartment building you lived in wasn’t turning into a new criminal point. “Please don’t say she’s a new crime boss or something.”

Under the mask you could hear a snicker, “And if she was?”

“Then I hope you and I could go out to coffee sometime to talk about how to get her out of here.” Maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t see his face, or maybe just the need for sleep frying your brain, but you hadn’t meant to be flirty.

There was a pause that hit the air and you wondered if that was the thousandth pick-up line he had heard that week. Before you could apologize for basically hitting on this man while he was working probably for the umpteenth night in a row, a low rumble came from him. A laugh. You realized he was laughing and you joined in awkwardly.

It only lasted for a few seconds before he approached you, stepping closer, but far enough away that, if need be, he could easily defend himself. “I don’t drink much coffee.”

“With what you do every night? I’m shocked, Mr. Red Hood,” You jested. After a moment you added. “Well, do you like tea? There are some good tea places around here.”

“Sure, how am I gonna drink it, then?” He pointed to his mask. “Can’t really drink with this on and, lovely, this thing isn’t coming off. Especially not with Sacha around.”

You smiled. “You’ll have to come by more often to figure that out.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” He said, leaning closer as he pulled his wrist around to look at his watch. “Looks like I may have time during the week.”

“Good,” You leaned up a bit and he backed away. “Sacha lives in the apartment to the right of me.”

Cursing under his breath, the Red Hood thanked you before practically running out of your apartment to the one next door by leaping off the fire escape. You watched the window for a minute, completely shocked by what had just happened before shaking your head. No, you wouldn’t see him again.

Well, what you had told yourself was a fucking lie because you heard tapping on your window. It scared the shit out of you, especially since it was Gotham, but your heart quelled once you realized that it was the Red Hood. With shaky hands, you undid the lock on your window and he climbed in. He looked down at you for a second before moving around your apartment, touching all the nick nacks and looking at the artwork on the walls.

“Hey,” You meekly managed out.

He stopped and turned halfway to you before saying, “Hey. How’s your night going?”

“I should be asking you that,” You said, going over to the couch to continue working on something for school. Your hands had to be doing something, they were shaking too much.

Red Hood groaned. “Gotham rouges are the dumbest fucking people on the planet. Unless it’s someone like Harvey Dent or Black Mask. But, someone like Condiment Kings? Dumb.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Condiment King seriously is just sad.”

“Yeah,” He paused, coming around to sit on the other end of the couch. “You go to school?”

He pointed to the papers and notebooks on the table. You nodded, looking down briefly at the paper you were writing. “Yeah. I go to Gotham University. Do you?” Even through the mask, you could feel him give you the kind of stare that he had to give Condiment King whenever he talked. “Right, you can’t say.”

“Unfortunately, not,” He got up again, walking around until he hit your bookshelf behind you. “You read?”

You got up, following him to the books. “I’m a big reader. You?”

“Can’t say.”

“What will I get of your identity by your reading habits? I’m not Sherlock Holmes.”

He scoffed. “You could just be saying that to get a hold of that valuable information.”

You giggled despite the fact that it was a wildly stupid joke. It was the start of a long conversation. He stayed for almost full three hours before he went out into the night again, promising to come back. Before he left, you stopped him.

“Take this,” You said, slipping him a piece of paper. “Maybe I can convince you over text to tell me what you like to read.”

“It won’t work,” He said.

You grinned up at him. “You haven’t given me enough time to try.”

You were laying in bed watching YouTube when an unknown number popped up across your screen with a text.

Just read a great book. You have to guess what it is. Three hints only. The only chance I’m giving you to get insight into my reading habits.

AN; Hi! Sorry to bother you at the end of your reading, but I promise I need to tell you this before I forget and it's important. You might have noticed that there was a really long (long for me at least lol) pause between the last chapter and this one and the quality of the chapters kind of falling short (at least in my opinion), and that is because I am currently on vacation/getting ready for uni. I'm not gonna lie, I am getting pretty used to a whole new country so I might want to/get distracted by focusing on that for a while. So, basically, updates might not be as frequent for a bit. Tho, who knows, I may update like ten chapter tomorrow. I wanted to let you guys know that I am currently dying because writing is literally one of the things that help me cope. lol. I also want to say this too but hearing from you guys really does help, too! I don't always respond bc I am a very shy person but it really does fill my heart up, I really want you guys to know that! love yall!

#jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason fluff #robin jason todd #red hood x reader #romance #red hood #batfamily #alfred pennyworth

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vinxhwrites · 7 months

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fanfic: ghost is your neighbor, part 1 (?)

[I've just started reading fanfics again last week and it has awakened something very deep from my teenage self that had been asleep for years. now I can't stop writing ideas, so I thought I'd post some. (still figuring out how the girlies make the posts look so nice).]

18+, nsfw (i guess), f! reader

cw: nothing so far, really

summary: you move to a new apartment and have simon as your neighbor. kind of a slow burn

not proofread, I literally should be studying for a test right now

It was the third time you were moving in less than a year, but you tried your best not to let it bring you down, trying to think of all nice things you liked about the new apartment: nice big windows, open kitchen, quick commute to the office and, most importantly, safe building.

The movers had already done most of the work, installed the heavy curtains and the TV on the wall, assembled shelves, carried your mattress, etc. Now, all that was still left were a few boxes of books and cutlery.

Every time you had to move you wondered why you owned so much stuff, you tried making your collection smaller and smaller with each move, but still cursed yourself over having kept so many miscellaneous items each time.

One downside of this new building was the lack of an elevator, so you had to carry your boxes for three flights of stairs. As you carried the last heavy box, you reached the fourth floor just in time to run into your new neighbor leaving his apartment, right across from yours. You were so distracted watching your steps not to fall over, that you were caught off guard when, in a slight glimpse at your neighbor, you were hit with the image of a big man wearing a black balaclava. Already thinking the worst, you gasped in absolute fear, you dropped your box, almost falling down the stairs you had just climbed and clenched the handrail.

He stood still for a moment in the hall, and put his arms up a little, in an attempt to demonstrate his innocence. He had his apartment keys still in his hand.

You took a deep breath and tried to recompose yourself, before you could reach the floor, he was already gathering the few books that had fallen from your box and put them back inside, handing you the box afterward.

"I'm sorry, sir" you said, unable to look at his eyes. "and thank you".

The truth is, Simon had just come home a few days ago and hadn't adjusted back to people's reactions to his habit of covering his face. He felt he was toning it down with the balaclava, really. He felt a bit bad for you, when he noticed your hands were shaking when he gave you your box back, but he didn't really say anything. Just nodded at your words and moved down the stairs quickly.

You opened your door as fast as you could, resting the box on the counter as soon as you stepped inside. You locked the door behind you and took another deep breath. You thought of calling a friend to talk, maybe call your mom or your sister, but ended up deciding you were ok and just served yourself a glass of white wine.

The next morning, after a few long minutes of hesitation, you confidently knocked on his door, praying that your grandma's cookie recipe was as good as you remembered it to be.

You heard him sigh a few seconds before opening the door. He must have seen you through the peephole, God, he already hates me, you thought, feeling your cheeks burn.

The door was opened to reveal his tall figure in front of you, only a black surgical mask this time. He looked bigger than you remembered, but a little less intimidating now that you could see his hair and eyes.

"Hey," you started with your best smile "I wanted to apologize for yesterday, it was really...impolite of me."

"It's alright" he shrugged, his voice made your legs a bit weak.

"I brought you some cookies" you felt pathetic handing him the tupperware "I've just moved in, you know?" of course he knew "and I don't really know anyone here, so..." you continued, but didn't really know where you were going with that, so you decided to just stop talking. It felt a bit unnecessary to confess that you'd enjoy having a good relationship with your neighbors, for some reason.

He seemed a bit confused, but accepted the gift, taking the cookies from your hands slowly, as if to make sure that you really meant it. "Thank you." he said, looking at it in his hands and then back at you "I'm Simon"

You introduced yourself, shaking his very firm hands before taking a step back and finding an excuse to go back to your apartment and hide your face on a pillow.

The next afternoon, just a few minutes after you came home from work, he knocked on your door. Two loud knocks.

You looked through the peephole and felt a little spasm in your stomach before unlocking the door. You greeted him with a smile and leaned at the door frame.

He wore the black surgical mask again, you noticed the tattoos on his arms now that he had a short-sleeved t-shirt on, and he smelled of nicotine and good shampoo. Does he live alone? you wondered.

"'wanted to return this" he said simply, offering you your now empty and cleaned tupperware back. "they were really good."

"Thank you." you grabbed it from his hands while your mind tried to look for new things you could say, but it wasn't necessary.

"Do you have more of them?" he asked bluntly, following up immediately with "Sorry to ask."

"It's ok!" you responded and said you could bake more but didn't have any at the moment, which wasn't entirely true but you kept the looped mantra in your head of not inviting strange men inside.

He insisted that it wasn't necessary, although his eyes seemed a bit disappointed. You guaranteed you'd make them anyway, cursing your people-pleasing tendencies in the back of your mind. You had the urge to invite him inside and keep talking to him, but you were able to be brave and not do it, having to watch him mumble an excuse to leave.

"See you later." he said, before walking back to his apartment and, although you didn't know when "later" was, something inside you hoped it'd be soon.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod smut

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littlemoneytoes · 29 days

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Finn and Pete's relationship in my AU

I completely forgot about this post I did on DA so I am here to share it on here)

hello hello again my superstars thank you so much for waiting and giving me ideas it has helped a lot now some people have asked what Finn and Pete's relationship is like in my AU well I will be sharing it right now so sit back and relax and enjoy

name: Pete the rat

age:24

likes: being on time ( @drechastory idea) , a nice warm cup of tea, his business, being with friends, books, learning new things every day, his manager ( Henry), some baked goods, soap operas, his siblings, quietness, a good book, his therapist Dr. Havertmichial, P.B, toy Chica, Manglem Chica dislikes: a bad soap opera, lukewarm tea, burnt baked goods, bullies, being late, learning something inappropriate that he doesn't want to know about, his ex, his "dad", sexual novels, the fandom people shipping him with Finn or his "dad", siblings x siblings ship, child x parents ships, Freddy, Foxy, and Shadow Freddy's behavior, Goldie's pranks, Bonnie

background:

Pete has a so-and-so relationship with his siblings but not so great relationship with his "dad" and always has to do what "dad" said without question, after he and Dottie were forced out of their home ( their manager couldn't keep up with the payments of keeping the copycat pizzeria open after so many complaints and employees leaving left and right on him so the bank had foreclosed on that copycat pizzeria for good and he lost his license of keeping the animatronics or have any animatronics live with him due to a complaints and a further investagation) and go to Freddy fazbear's pizzeria, Pete was very hostile and aggressive when they first arrived and kept Dottie and Finn close by to him on the first night, but after a month of living in Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria that no one was going to hurt him or his siblings, Pete calmed down but kept his siblings close, and would out of habit called Henry, dad every so often, he has been put in therapy for a while ( Henry's idea of wanting to help him along with Finn and Dottie) he had realized that his "dad's" behavior was both not normal and very emotionally, mentally abusive or sometimes physically abuse too, Pete keeps going to therapy to help him both cope and get better of being a better brother towards his siblings but old habits die hard sometimes for Pete, he had broken all contact with "dad" to get not be held back from his journey of healing and coping, and he likes his therapist, who treats him like a normal person but listes and helps give Pete advice

( I forgot to mention their manager has bipolar disorder in this AU)

name: Finn the sea pirate pup

age: 13

likes: his sword, his friends, snuggles, Dottie, Mari, his therapist Dr. Teamoresone, comic books, his papa (whom he calls Henry, papa when he is terrified, stressed, or way overwhelmed), Chica's pizza and other bake books, his dark pleasure ( having his belly rubbed ad being called a good boy), root beer, fish sticks, Pete, Goldie, Foxy's tail ( because it's a really fluffy tail and Foxy does mind but puts it up with it for Finn's sake), 3rd papa ( P.B) dislikes: cold hardened food, loud noises, being touched in the same places ( his tail thanks to his "dad" always grabbing Finn by his tail when he is mad or doing it to Finn to keep him from running around), warm soda, Foxy's short temper, Freddy, his "dad", Pete's ex, burned food, being alone, the quit, being abandoned, ruined books, fandom always shipping him and Pete, or sometimes his "dad" or Goldie sometimes too, shadow Freddy, toy Chica's pitch fangirl screams ( I mean she can fan scream that henry has to replace the windows several times a day, being tickled, his past, the dark, tight spaces

background: When Finn first comes to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, he is both scared, but also a bit hostile around everyone including Herny, he didn't have a great relationship with Pete at that time, but after seeing that everyone treats him with kindness and not a burden after a few hours, he slowly warms up to everyone but still kept everything for him for a while, till he had a nightmare about his "dad" hurting him in many ways that no animatronic should go through and Henry had found out what happened behind closed doors at the copycat pizzeria ( he was in a room Henry put him in to stay for the time being till he could find out what was wrong with Finn and his coding of what mistakes were made), he slowly got better when he was around Henry and Mike learning they weren't like his "dad" and goes into therapy to help him cope and ease his nightmares, he been on meds and given a new costume ( after Henry fixed his malfunction codes) ( @saltv2 idea), everyone gives Finn space, he gets reunioned with his siblings when he heard they were coming to live and preform with him at Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria, of course he got questioned by Pete when Pete and Dottie arrived of course he didn't Pete for asking so many questions and pretending that he didn't care about him but knows deep down Pete is still the big brother he knows and loves, and needless to say Pete and Finn's relationship got better then how it was before, their relationship is getting a bit better but they give each other space when one is not in a great mood or is overwhelmed from work, Finn like his therapist, who is a sweetheart and gives Finn welcome hugs and lets him draw or color when he has his therapy appointment

well I hope you have enjoyed learning about these two's relationship let me know what your AU Pete and Finn's relationship is like I would love to learn more about them, have a great day, and stay safe superstars ( bonus:)

#ask goldie anything #ask me anything #ask goldie #aga #ask goldie anything au #fnaf #fnaf au #five nights at freddy's #Finn's fact you didn't know #Pete facts you don't know

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cowboycakes · 1 year

Note

Hey dude! You know I gotta ask about our boy Johnny :D I'd love to see what you have for letters ADEZ. Please & thank you!

JULIEN!! i would love to write for our boy Johnny ♡ i hope these silly headcanons amuse you

★ DIRTY HEADCANONS WITH JOHNNY JOESTAR ★

MINORS DNI (18+)

warnings: johnny uses/rides a dildo. sub johnny. penetration/masturbation. masochism. praise kink. crying/dacryphilia (as always.) spanking. rough(ish) sex. use of crops. leaving hickies/marks. mentions of - finger sucking, nipple play, bondage, biting, oral, gags. little bit of gyjo in the first headcanon.

wc: 650

dirty a-z headcanons list

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

Inspired by this nsfw johnny art on twitter bc it's been on my mind for fucking weeks. He's got a vivid imagination and a bad habit of thinking up dirty shit in his head. He doesn't stop his mind from wandering, either, even when he isn't alone (i.e., in public, sleeping in a tent next to Gyro, etc.) Then he'll get all embarrassed when he realizes he's hard because of it. When he does get alone, he'll sometimes play out little fantasies. He loves to involve his kinks and fetishes or pretending his giant dildo is Gyro's cock. He always starts things out slow, dedicating ample time to lubing himself up with his fingers and teasing his hole with the head of his toy. Sometimes he'll try it laying down while his legs are spread as far as he can get them, sometimes he'll try to ride on it. Either way, he gets super vocal from the second he shoves it in, panting and whining while he ruts his hips down onto his toy desperately. He'll moan into his own hand or suck on his own fingers when it all gets to be a bit much and no one is there to tell him how good he's doing :(

D - Dominance (do they prefer to dominate, or be dominated? do they have experience as a Dom? Do they have a Dom that they trust already? What kind of things do they enjoy as/with their Dominant partner?)

He's a brat who turns into a slobbering, whining, submissive little bitch by the end of it. My evidence? ↓

gif creds

E - Extra info (any other fetishes? feet? leather? role playing? blood? fantasies that they might want to experience not on this list?)

This is me acknowledging his canon fetish... and now I'm going to ignore it. Here's a list of Johnny kinks: Loooves praise and has a hard time admitting it. Needs you to tell him how pretty he is and how amazing he feels. Ropes and bondage. Likes to be tied up and have his mouth fucked nice n rough. Likes to wear gags or have something covering/inside of his mouth while he gets railed. He's a little masochist. Spank him. Bend him over your lap and put a crop to his ass 'til he cries cause it hurts so good. Whines and cries a lot, but that's a good sign. Also, I think Johnny is less experienced than people make him out to be. He gets nervous trying new things but ends up enjoying it more than he thought he would.

Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?)

Here's another list... Neck/ears: Joni fucking melts when you lick his neck and nibble on his ears. Whispering in his ear or breathing on his neck gives him chills and makes him wanna nuzzle into you a bit. Nipples: Swirl your tongue on his nipples and he's hard instantly. Likes you to keep pinching and playing with them while you two fuck. Great way to make him whimper. Tummy: I've said this before but Johnny loves tummy kisses, especially in the lower, softer part of his stomach. Gives him butterflies. Thighs: This is an area where he wants you to leave marks. When you give him hickies on his inner thighs, he'll stare at them and trace over them with his fingers for days (and look at them while he jerks off.) The reminder makes him horny. Ass: Spank it. Pinch it. Bite it. Run your hand over it gently. It's perfect, and he knows it. So pay attention to it, dammit!

i apologize for all of the self indulgent bullshit i just put in here. hope everyone can forgive me <3333

#jojos thirsty adventure #johnny <3 #johnny joestar x reader #johnny joestar smut #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #jojo smut #jjba smut #sbr x reader #sbr smut #steel ball run smut #jojo's bizarre adventure smut #johnny joestar x you #johnny x reader #johnny joestar headcanons #tw: praise kink #tw: masochism #tw: dacryphilia

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bekaroth-reads · 2 years

Text

Astarion x Tav/reader x Gale

[So, I have the characters use the name Tav as that’s the default name in the game, so that way it could be a reader or OC insert, whatever you want. Also they/them pronouns are used for that purpose as well. This is also a scenario where everyone travels together and not just four to a group. Also aside from saying also too much, I’m still a bit new to the game, so some people might be a little out of character.]

The day was a rather nice one. You were all thankful for that as the plan was to walk for the majority of the day. It was going to be a bit before you got to the next town, so you all wanted to make as much of a dent in that journey as you could while it was pleasant. Well, most of you did. From one of the bedrolls you could see nothing but a few shocks of white hair fluffing out from under the cover. “Come on, Astarion. It’s morning and we’ve got a lot of walking to do today.” You called as you shook the lump under the cover with the toe of your boot. There was a grumble followed by a muffled, “Please, don’t remind me!” You sort of felt bad for pushing Astarion to get up because you knew that there was a chance that he either slept very little or not at all. But, there were things that you all had to do despite his sleeping habits. “Let the pasty bastard lie, I say. A soul that doesn’t enjoy a beautiful morning is not a good one!” Gale called over to the two of you with a slight sing-song tone to his last few words. This was what caused those two red eyes of the vampire to emerge from hiding, narrowed from squinting from the light and glowering at the wizard. His icy gaze had death in it as he looked at the almost chipper man getting his gear ready to go. “And, they call me unnatural.” Astarion hissed as he begrudgingly started to get his own things gathered.

“Why are you spending this wonderful morning with such a drab mark on it?” Gale seemingly said to you as he walked over and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, but he was looking at the undead elf the whole time so he knew he was talking about him. Astarion usually would have sassed something back, but at the moment he was too tired to bother with a response, much less think about Gale at all (truthfully, he always gave the wizard more thought than he would like to.) “Come on, Gale.” You did your best not to give in and laugh at his antics as you tried to lead him away from the sleepy half-elf to buy more time for you and the others before you all had to listen to the two of them bickering. “Not everyone wakes up as quickly as you do.” There was still mirth in his eye as he remarked, “Perhaps, but no one wakes up worse than him.” There was a nod of Gale’s head toward Astarion to accompany this. “Gale.” You huffed at his insistence at trying to start a fight this early in the morning. “You know I can’t help myself.” He pulled you closer to himself and hummed, “Especially, when I have such a lovely day to look forward to.” Just as he was about to say something else, someone quickly rescued you from his hold, “It would be a nice day if someone stopped talking so much and giving everyone else a headache.” Shadowheart grumbled as she kept walking you away from him and toward your things.

After the small incident that morning the rest of the day up to this point seemed to be going smoothly as Astarion and Gale hadn’t had much interaction with each other. Then you stopped to rest for a bit in the afternoon. “Pathetic.” Lae’zel snorted as she looked behind you. You turned to see what she was insulting this time and saw…nothing. Looking back at her with a questioning look, she clarified, “We seem to be two people short in our party. They cannot keep up with the group.” Now that you looked around, you did notice that Gale and Astarion were nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t but a minute or two later that Gale arrived where the rest of you were with Astarion right behind him. “You two off exchanging sweet nothings in your alone time?” Wyll laughed as both of the other men looked like they would murder him right then and there. “Hardly!” Astarion sneered. “Not a bloody chance!” Gale snapped at the same time. “Then why did you both fall behind?” Lae’zel demanded, not having the same sense of humor that Wyll had about the situation. Their ire shifted to her, and Gale quickly went to defend himself. “I know exactly what you are implying. And, I’ll have you know that I am by no means a weak man. My strength simply lies in the mind and in short burst of carrying things around my study.” And, when this didn’t seem to sway the rest of you to sympathize with him, he added, “It’s not my fault that the rest of you are practically jogging rather than walking!” Shadowheart rolled her eyes as the rest of you looked at Astarion expectantly for his answer. He didn’t seem to be paying attention, but quickly noticed the feeling of being watched. “Hm? Oh, yes. I could have kept up with you. I simply didn’t feel like it.”

“Oh, please!” Gale scoffed. “You were even further behind than I was.” Astarion’s lip twitched as he had to take a millisecond to compose himself before retorting. “A purposeful choice, I assure you. Your struggle to do something as basic as walking has been making for quite the treasure trove of entertainment for the day.” It was at this point the you all knew the volleys of insults were about to start. “Well, the quiet was nice while it lasted.” Shadowheart huffed as she went to sit down a ways off from the rest of the group. “That would be a flattering statement from anyone but you.” Gale snarked and crossed his arms at his chest. “Flattering?” Astarion was genuinely confused. “We both know the real reason that you wanted to walk behind me was to look at my ass.” Gale snorted, proud of the jab he just got in. The vampire spawn looked disgusted at the thought. “Oh, dear, was that what I was looking at?” Astarion started once he had recovered, “I had thought that was your face. They do look strikingly similar.” Gale rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t even make sense! My robe was in the way!” Without missing a beat, the white haired man snapped back, “I merely thought you had done the world a favor by finally covering the monstrosity.” Gale looked like he was about to explode, but he stopped and took a deep breath. You all hoped that meant that they were done for now, yet were proven wrong when the wizard added, “At least my face isn’t as horrifically distracting as the awful hair of yours; especially that glaring bald spot.”

You all knew that was a low blow as there was nothing that Astarion loved more than that hair of his. If Wyll and you didn’t jump in between them, Astarion would have actually attacked Gale. “Alright, the both of you need to give some space. Cool off a little.” Wyll encouraged on deaf ears. “He’s right.” You agreed and the two obliged begrudgingly. You both watched to make sure there was a decent distance between the two and that no projectiles of any kind were thrown. After sometime Lae’zel approached you. “Could you talk some sense into those fools?” You gave her a teasing smile and asked, “Are you that worried about them?” She gave you a look that let you know that if you weren’t you then you would get hit right now, and even then you were on thin ice. “No. We have spent too much time resting already. But, neither of them will move from where they are if that means seeing each other; like children bickering in a nursery.” You knew that she was right and that you all needed to keep going. So, you agreed. Because Astarion was closer you decided to start with him. Going over to the stump he was sitting on, you noted that it was where he could watch a nearby stream, but far enough away to be safe for him. “I’m in no mood for conversation, Tav.” He grouched as he heard you approaching. You didn’t respond and simply walked over and sat next to him. Both of you knew that he usually had plenty to say unless he was really angry. After a few moments he spoke, but hesitantly. “Tav, I have something I need to ask you.” He sounded rather earnest and solemn, so you listened intently. “I… gods, how do I say this…” Astarion stopped and took a deep breath before starting again. “Am I actually balding?”

Of course it was what Gale said to him. “You see, I can’t really feel any patchy spots. But, it’s not like I can actually check as you well know.” Astarion whined as he fussed with his hair, feeling around his scalp. You clicked your tongue and moved his hands away from his head before he actually did give himself a bald spot from messing with it so much. “No, you don’t. Gale was just trying to get under your skin.” He made a sour face and you could tell that he was already planning his revenge. “Come on; quit scrunching your face up like that.” You start as you think on how to play into his good side, distract him from his ongoing feud at least for a little bit, “Your face is too pretty to give yourself wrinkles from all that frowning.” That seemed to catch his attention, and his trade mark, devious grin crept onto his face. “Playing that game, are we?” Astarion mused as he leaned in closer to you. He placed his hands on either side of you, effectively pinning you to the log you were both sitting on. “I’ll have you know that flattery will get you…everywhere~” the last part he hummed into you ear, his baritone voice sending shivers down your spine. He took a deep breath, savoring the closeness to you and starting to say something else. But, before that something else came from his lips, there was another all too familiar voice wailing in disgust. “At least pretend you have some shame!” An approaching Gale did not at all look too happy with the scene he had just walked up on.

Astarion knowing how riled the wizard was getting, kept his proximity to you to further the burn, only slightly turning his head so he didn’t deafen you when he went to reply. “The only shameful things here are your impeccably horrid timing and your constant stench of cat piss!” You, who had found yourself unable to move due to Asterion’s unnatural strength, had to admit that you never thought Gale smelled like that, so either it was something that only Astarion’s heightened senses could pick up on, or, more likely, he was just trying to think of any insult he could hurl. Gale, not wanting to bring his precious cat into this even more, brushed off the comment in favor of asking, “And, what about poor Tav there? Certainly they don’t wish to be your next meal!” Astarion gave a deep, conniving laugh that you felt rumble in his chest. “Then I’d say you’ve underestimated our dear teammate.” The vampire’s lips moved down closer to your neck as he teased both you and Gale, “I don’t think they mind the biting at all.” That seemed to be the push that Gale needed to close the distance between him and the stream you were sitting by, and pull you away from the half-elf’s hold. Since Astarion had lost himself in the temptation of actually biting your neck, he didn’t notice Gale had gotten to you until you were ripped from his hold, causing him to lose his balance and fall face first into the stump with a loud thump echoing though the hollowed wood and dazing him slightly.

“There you go, my poor Tav. Did he rough you up too much?” Gale fussed as he walked you along back toward where the others were gathered. Usually, he was gentle with you, but not quite this doting. The difference between this time and the rest, however, was that the other times he shown affection he hadn’t just walked up on Astarion trying to get up close and personal with you. Well, he had; but, nothing to the extent that it was today. “I-I’m fine, Gale. Really!” You tried to insist, but it seemingly didn’t convince him. “See? You’re hardly able to get a sentence out. The vile creature has done something to you, and I’ll be damned if I don’t fix it!” You were trying to think of ways of telling him without giving yourself away, that the reason you were having trouble talking was because you were just manhandled by a hot elf to then immediately after manhandled by a hot wizard. But, you would never verbally tell either of them that they had that effect on you as they both already had egos that could fill a whole room and then some. “I insist! Let me at least look it over.” Gale tutted at your stubbornness, before looking at the area that Astarion had said he would bite. Now you had Gale nosing around your neck, which would seem like it was similar to when Astarion did it, yet in reality it was oh, so different. His breath and the hand that he slid along the side of your neck were a comforting warm instead of the pleasantly cool of Astarion’s. And, while he looked over the area for any scratches that the vampire spawn dared leave with those fangs of his, every so often the edges of his beard tickled the side of your face. You both knew that he didn’t really need to be that close to see, but neither of you said anything; yet, he had the back up excuse of the trees block any good lighting if you did happen to ask.

In similar fashion to when you were interrupted just a little ago, the indignant call of Astarion, who now had a decent welt, as well as some dirt and moss smeared on his face from hitting the log, pulled you from this moment Gale was trying to steal. “I beg your pardon!” Astarion hissed when he saw how tenderly the wizard was holding you. “Of all the people I would give pardon to, Astarion, you are not one of them.” Gale stated flatly in response. The white haired man’s shoulder’s stiffened, and his proverbial hackles rose even more. “You are well aware of what that phase meant in the context. Unless you have indeed proven to somehow be impossibly more idiotic than I thought.” Astarion’s words were dripping with as much venom as his glare was. “Oh, I’m the stupid one? Seems someone had a bit of trouble spotting some sarcasm.” Gale retorted as he turned away from you and toward his rival. “Oh, did I? Or are you just so expressively dull that it didn’t register?” Astarion parried. “Would you care to say that again?” Gale growled and took a step closer to the other man. “I believe I told you,” Astarion stepped in kind, “that you were dull.” There was another step from Gale. “Where do you get the gall?” Gale hissed. “From the knowledge that my theory was correct. Why else would you be so upset at the accusation, hmm?” Astarion purred at the man that was practically chest to chest with him at this point. “Well, I suppose dull is better than ugly.” Gale went for one of the elf’s biggest weak points. Astarion snarled and barked back, “Now, you listen here, you-“

“There is a lot of… well, a certain type of tension between those two.” Wyll, who approached with the other three as they were looking for the rest of you, commented on the scene he was watching. “It’s probably over Tav. You know how they are with them.” Shadowheart added. They were all surprised when they heard you start talking right next to them. “Not this time, I don’t think. I haven’t been near either of them for a little bit now. “Oh,” Shadowheart shrugged, “sorry, I didn’t notice you aren’t over there anymore.” You laughed at that. “That’s alright. I don’t think they have either.” That pulled a laugh from Wyll as well. “Honestly, you not being there explains even more than if you were.” Shadowheart and yourself both had to agree. Lae’zel had other ideas. “The only thing this proves is that they’re both children, and squabble like them!” You all agreed with that point as well. “Regardless, we need to keep moving. Break them up and make them follow.” Lae’zel ordered as she started back toward the path. “Well, you’re their nanny. They only listen to you, so it’s your job, I suppose.” Shadowheart teased as she patted your shoulder. “Wait, who decided that?” You asked, not up for the gargantuan task ahead of you. “They did.” Wyll pointed at the two men who were practically nose to nose by this point. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, they were right. And, for some reason, you didn’t actually seem to mind.

#astarion x reader #bg3 gale x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 gale x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #astarion

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