people (gaz) said johnny was the filthiest one when it comes to sex.
you expected a sex dungeon at the highest form of degree of nasty, slutty filth, and the lowest being a bit of public sex. you were ready to embrace it all, you were curious and needed that pussy fucked after a long while of dickless nights so whatever degree of sexification experience johnny had in store, you were ready to take them.
however, after dragging him into your bedroom after a days- no- months of him being away and kissing him with all the courage your body can muster, you were embarrassed to admit that you didn't need to be dicked down to weep underneath him.
oh he was a sweetheart and every word that left his lips sounded like a sweet song.
'you missed me tha' much?' you mewled and hid your face in your pillow as he kissed your cheek, 'i missed you too.'
his hands were doing wonders and as you shut your eyes tight you were seeing stars.
his palm smacks against your cunt, wet, filthy, and sloppy sounds echo along with your sounds of pleasure.
'you feel so good around my fingers' he groans softly against your ear and his sound sent tingles across your body, 'you're so pretty,' his fingers slowed and curled against that damn sweet spot and you wept, 'joh-johnny-'
'i know, i know' its that damn tone, that sort of babying and mocking tone- he knows what he's doing to you.
your back arches as your mind spins and spins, tummy curling-
'come for me, bon. come for me.' oh you did, you spilled and soaked his hand. sticky and wet with your juices, he brings his hand into his mouth and tastes you.
he hums at your flavour, gently caressing your thighs as you catch your breath. he chest rumbled with amusement as you wipe your eyes with the back of your hands with a pout.
'why're you lookin' at me like tha'?' he teased and you rolled your eyes. if him shoving his fingers in your cunt was enough to have you in tears, one can only imagine once his cock stuffs you full to the brim. you might be hysteric (although preferred, you can't become a brainless little slut when it comes to johnny...it would be embarrassing).
his touch soothed your breathing to a calm rhythm and before you can focus on how damp your legs were with cum and sweat you tugged his shirt.
'off.'
he raises a brow and instinctively you mumbled shyly, 'please...'
he closes the space between you and kissed your cheek, 'good girl' he gives you that cheeky grin before pulling away to unbutton his dress shirt.
he was putting on a show, hands carefully popping buttons with a delicate touch. the slow reveal of the curtains pulling back to his picture perfect body.
how did you even get to move in with a military guy? you can't remember.
you stared, stuck in an embarrassing trance as he lets the shirt drop behind him. if he stunned you just like that who knows what else he'll do to you.
by the time you blinked back to the current state of your reality johnny was knelt between your legs, thigh propped on his shoulder as he nuzzled against your flesh, 'bonnie~, you alrigh'?'
you pouted, 'what are you doing?'
his hand caressed your thighs delicately and pressed a kiss against the space close to your dripping cunt, 'ah think you know' his gaze lingered to that dripping slit and he was in a longing gaze, 'bonnie, can i get a taste?'
fucking hell.
he tears his gaze away from below and he meets your own flushed expression, eyes weak and pathetic and silently begging, yearning, to hear a 'yes' from you.
you nodded, 'please..'
it was like christmas day the way his spirits lifted along with his shoulders as he gently pulled you closer. he brings his face close to your pleasure and pressed both thumbs around the fat of your slit. wetness leaks more out of you and he groans from such a filthy sight.
'so pretty' he leans close and pressed a kiss on your cunt.
tingles ran as a shiver across your spine and as he pulled away to lick the traces of stickiness on his lips he parted his mouth and you hated how you quickly fall apart beneath him .
'o-oh my-' your breath cuts short when you feel him spread your puffy lips apart and he delves in like he hasn't eaten in days.
this was heaven... or hell- whatever it is johnny was taking you places you didn't realize you could even reach. he pleasures you greatly that you feel tingles run through your blood. your brain was turning to mush- thoughts weren't present anymore- just pure euphoria to dull your mind away from worries.
you'd lean forward, tugging on his hair and he doesn't stop (though not like you wanted him to), it only seemed to drive more of his desperation to eat you up even more. the vigor of a starving man was terrifyingly delicious, especially when you are on that platter.
'sensitive-' you mumbled through pathetic cries and as he opened his eyes to meet yours your stomach coiled, his thumb pads the hood of your clit and your orgasm crashes instantaneously.
johnny eats you up, prolonging your orgasm like he wants to have every last fucking drop.
tears of pure ecstasy blurs your vision, 'hold on- waitwaitwait!-' what were you even saying? your thighs were crushing either side of his head and he can't leave and as though a natural response he pushes his face further into you, left hand pushing the back of your thigh further into your chest, tongue flattening and sucking until his lips glistened.
wet slurping noise echo throughout your bedroom and your sheets were starting to dampen under you-
'johnny for -fu-fucks sake!-' your body was weak and you pat his head desperately, 'off! off!-'
he pulls away instantly and if your brain wasn't so high up in the air you would have caught the way his eyes were wide with worry as his palm wrapped around your thighs. the leg pushed up against you rests against his own, his other hand rubbing your waist as if to ease the upcoming ache your joints will be feeling from being folded in such a position.
'i need to-' someone get a doctor, 'catch my breath-' your chest heaves and you throw your head back on your pillow trying to calm your mind yet again.
'was tha' too much bon?' you nodded and you feel that glossiness from your eyes itch to leave your eyes 'mhm-' you take deep breaths and wipe the tears that dared to roll down your face, oh he was just that good youre crying?
'bonnie? im sorry.' his voice was rough with worry, 'are you okay?' you peek to read him and he sat there patiently like an obedient little thing. bright blue eyes gazing down at you with those pure puppy dog eyes like he didn't just eat your pussy out you saw the clouds. '-i told you to wait!-' you kick his side lightly, 'oof'
you feel the warmth of his palm and you push yourself up from your elbows as you begin to slowly regain your breath. he caressed your thighs softly, back and forth, back and forth.
'i'm sorry bon..' he takes your hand and pressed his lips against your fingertips, 'how can i make it up to you?' he nuzzles his face into your palm, his weak blue eyes constantly on yours as sweat and the flushing burn of his blood rushes to the surface of his skin.
your brain short circuits and you were embarrassed to hear that right after that you fainted.
Love comes when its right, dressed in disguises and scenes where it is unexpected, though love does finds it way to reach you during a nice Friday afternoon in a crowded cafe where an aspiring novelist asks to sit at your table to read a book.
Trigger Warnings (TWs): Fluff, Comfort, Angst, Character Death, Self-Harm, Depression
[CHAPTERS]
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 1: The Meet Cute
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 2: The Start of Puppy Love
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 3: The First Move
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 4: The First Date
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 5: The Result of Love
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 6: The Favour
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 7: A Form Of Gratitude
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 8: A Series of Problems
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 9: A Nightly Call
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 10: A Miraculous Coincidence
٠࣪⭑ Chapter 11: A Slip of a Secret
―୨୧⋆ ˚ Disclaimer. Bungou Stray Dogs characters, and art featured is strictly not mine and belongs to the rightful owners.
“Please don’t tell me we’re lost.” Chen sighed, feet practically numb from the long walk from the parking lot to La Dolce Vita, a restaurant that Johnny has come to learn is owned by Tony’s older brother whom he had never met before. However, he did hear from Diane that Renzo (Tony’s brother) was a practical copy of Tony despite being five years apart and the only difference was his accent is so strong he’s incoherent when he speaks english.
Nathan is leading the trip to La Dolce Vita after fetching Johnny and Chen from their respective addresses. Though, halfway through the trip to the restaurant, Nathan remembered the cake his wife Christina baked the night before who instructed him to bring the homemade lemon cake to the party. Needless to say they had to drop by quickly to his apartment building which added an unnecessary twenty minutes worth of travel time to the restaurant right after collecting the cake.
Christina was wonderful though, Johnny had to admit. She welcomed them with the warmth of a woman from a different world and as she ushered them inside he could smell the faint scent of oil and mechanical parts from her uniform. She wasn’t much of a chatterbox like her husband, in fact she speaks only when spoken to and when her voice reached Johnny’s ears he could hear an ironic mellowness and detachment to her Australian accent as opposed to her husband whose voice reaches unimaginable pitches and volumes when he expresses himself. When Johnny sat on the couch with Chen he felt an oddness of distant familiarity.
When he closed his eyes he could remember the exhaustion his body felt when he was fifteen after playing football on those strangely arduous Thursdays. The ache tingled faintly in his muscles, so close yet so far, simply just a memory that he felt through his skin, like phantom pains only there was no hurt here.
His ears caught the news and he is reminded when his exhausted body would just lay flat on the couch and listen to absolutely everything. The sounds of the newscaster listing on again how his motherland just loves to have skies of gray, his mother cooking in the kitchen, the faint sounds of vegetables being diced with inconsistent cuts when served and his father mumbling to his own mother from nonsense to the inflation of the economy. Johnny remembered that she’d usually hum and responded by saying, “Will a cup of tea fix that dear?” His father would usually follow that with more grumblings only his dear ma’ could understand.
When he opened his eyes and ducked his head slightly to check on Nathan and his wife all he saw was the chokehold of romance in Nathan’s eyes as he stood there, lovestruck, and so damn in love while his wife berated him for forgetting the lemon cake and having to bring Chen and Johnny himself into their apartment without a message, saying she could have cleaned herself up appropriately if she knew they were coming.
Chen recorded the whole thing without Nathan knowing and on the drive to the restaurant she said, “So… You like being degraded.” She says flatly though there was that hint of a smile on her lips.
Nathan just rolled his eyes as he threw her the middle finger, “Shut up ye’ fackin’ cunt.” There was no intention in those words. Johnny just laughed and patted his shoulder, “It’s alrigh’ mate. We are open minded blokes, just be who you are,”
“Up ye’r ass MacTavish.”
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Neon lights flickered up ahead, La Dolce Vita illuminated across the vastness of the building's dull background, one of the letters pulsed faintly, its bulb clearly in need of replacing. “Chen, be glad we don’t have to give you a new set of legs. We’re here.” Says Nathan who quickly exited out of Google Maps on his phone as he led the team inside the Italian restaurant.
Tony greeted them with open arms, clipped lips broken into a wide smile as he spread his arms open to embrace Nathan who reciprocated the hug respectfully. The Italian ruffled Chen’s hair, muttering something in Italian before saying, “Quickly sit down and tell me what you want to eat.” Johnny followed suit and Tony grinned as he patted his shoulder, “You are going to love it here.”
As Johnny followed Tony’s lead, he was at awe at the buzzing and lively energy. Chatter fills the air from every table he passed, he noticed a majority of the customers seemed to be pure Italian all of which spoke in their native tongue as they chatted heartily with another about… well Johnny wouldn’t know, he attended a German class for his four years of high school and all that knowledge on German’s sentence structure and words he threw around proudly faded as he spent more of his time training and planning for his next course of action when he entered the military. He should pick German up again or maybe French for a change. I mean he is working at a French restaurant and there was an influx of French customers during the fourteenth of July.
Tony led all three of them to the very back of the restaurant to the outdoor dining area, the ground was a flourishing garden with flowers and herbs of every kind, pots filled with greenery towered high around the wooden beams of the pergola where vines of grapes blended with the fairy lights that were strung around the criss cross beams which added a sense of whimsicalness to the dining area below where Johnny’s coworkers greeted them with bright grins and excitement, glasses filled with a sinful amount of wine.
Diane sat composed right beside where Tony definitely sat. Her hair curled and done like a 1920’s dancer yet her dressing style was the same as how she worked, sleek, clean, proper, and formal. It was as if work never left her. Glancing down, a french bulldog pawed and bit a small squeaky toy beneath her feet. Johnny quickly ushered by its side to pet and ruffle its adorable fur, under his breath he uttered how much of a good boy the pupper was before he found himself a seat next to Nathan.
Chen meanwhile was caught in a would be endless conversation with Tony, something about gas prices, her family’s living situation and other bits and bobs that Johnny decided to force himself not to listen to.
Glancing over to the lively expanse of the scenery, everyone was beautiful and alive, filled with the energy of someone who finally had a breather in their busy world. They all seemed so happy. Smiling and cracking jokes that have them erupt in a bubble of bellyful laughter. Their eyes creased and light seeped out quiet spills of joy in the space.
Johnny’s skin crawled, not like how a millipede would have him shiver as he braced himself of its bite that would never come, rather as though he is living this life through someone else’s eyes. A memory he was never meant to bear witness, a record of a time that was never meant for him.
Everything before him was a photograph of someone else’s life and he lingered at the table like a spirit in them. Alive and present at a time that he wasn’t born into.
Yet he craved this life for once, his mind tingled for this wish. This life he swore was in a movie, this life he thought ended the moment he sat on the chair to have his hair shaved off as a commitment to his renewed path after highschool. He deeply desired this normal life once again. This feeling was rare, it happens once every blue moon and it never failed to surprise him how much his heart stung to return to this normalcy.
Though he has it now. It’s literally in the palm of his calloused and dirty hands, but he doesn’t know what to do.
What do you do next once you have what you wanted?
He never mulled on this thought enough to properly have an answer.
Though he does try to live it like how a normal human being would, he tries. Unfortunately, despite the weeks that have passed since he was in the hospital, his body is taking a long time getting used to this life. It was taking awhile for him to finally feel like a normal human being. It was taking awhile for him to feel like he was home.
As Johnny thanked Tony for pouring him wine his reflection rippled through the gentle swirl of his hands as a thought popped in his mind, perhaps this was why his smile never reached his eyes? How could he be so far away from home when home was right where he stood?
He tipped his head back gently as the tanginess took over his palette. These thoughts were best reserved for nights alone in the pub. He should settle down.
Nathan leaned over the table where Diane’s eyes glossed over the hanging lights, “Diane, where is (Name)? For someone who is meant to be celebrated she is taking a long time to even arrive at her celebration." Diane’s nose sniffed and she glanced down at her watch, “I don’t know.”
“How about Tony?” Johnny chimed in and she glanced over to the Italian, “You’ll have to ask him.”
Nathan pouted, “You suck at providing information.”
Diane mocked his expression before glancing away.
The Australian sighed then looked over at Johnny, “D’you mind if you asked Tony when (Name) is coming?”
Nathan followed through with Johnny who stood up and pushed his seat back. “I gotta piss.”
A ludicrous expression found its way on Nathan’s expression, “What.”
Johnny cheekily grins, “Yer’ on your own, mate.” He makes his way through the double doors of the restaurant, “Johnny!” He yelps, exasperated. “Can’t hear you!”
Once he returned his ears caught the table’s voices growing louder with cheer and as he pushed through those double doors to the pergola he was met with waiters filing in and out, some of them with empty trays in hand and others with filled trays filled with dishes that has his belly rumbling with hunger.
Life moved continuously like a flowing river in his absence and as he stepped in the scene like he was meant to be there he caught sight of the head chef. Her hair was pushed away from her face with a simple headband made from a plaid handkerchief. She was much livelier than that day he ran into her in the storage room. Her face didn’t sink with that mournful expression and when she grinned it was radiant with colour.
Everyone distracted her from his sudden presence and he eased himself swiftly through the crowd to find his seat. Once he found his spot he made himself comfortable and skimmed through the dishes displayed on the table. Nathan followed suit, hand fiddling the pages of the laminated drinks menu then he nudged Johnny slightly as he leaned in to mutter in his ear, “The moment you left she arrived.” Johnny nodded, then ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the faint bump comforted him slightly, “I guess that says a lot about my presence.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know either” Johnny chuckled then an eruption of laughter followed from the crowd that surrounded (Name). Nathan turned to the origin of the noise before shaking his head, “The food is going to get cold if they keep chatting away like that.”
Johnny hummed and as he glanced he got a quick view of your expression and as quickly as he saw you he looked away, “Bonnie looks like she’s enjoying herself.” Then his attention goes on the dishes, pasta drowning in carbonara sauce, and cheese embodying gluttony with how much of it is sprinkled on top, salad filled with greens, tomatoes, and goat cheese with dijon mustard or some sort of dressing coating its organic elements with a lovely sheen, chicken breasts beautifully plated with La Dolce Vita’s signature buttery sauce drizzled on top.
“If they don’t come here right now I might just inhale everything.” Johnny breathed out and he swore he felt his stomach get filled from the sight. If that’s the case, he might just die from whatever dessert will be displayed right after this.
Nathan glanced at the crowd then shamefully grabbed the handle of the classic spaghetti pasta and scooped a hefty amount to fill his plate, “No one said you weren’t allowed to.” Why did he say that? Doesn’t Nathan know that was the green light to embrace the neverending hunger his fifteen year old self had?
“Let’s take advantage of their ignorance to this blessing.” Johnny muttered and with that he was gone. He grasped the tongs and lord knows that soon after he slapped the chicken on his plate along with stromboli he blacked out.
Oh the way his mouth watered from each flavourful taste. How was he even more hungry and filled at the exact same time? This was gluttony doing its sinful work. It sincerely was. When Johnny glanced at Nathan’s direction, he was just as gone. Eyes blanking out and he wondered if he was in a food coma or if he’s seeing another dimension because he didn't breathe for 20 seconds as he chewed.
“You look like you’re enjoying yourselves.” Johnny eagerly nodded like a starving boy from France in the seventeenth century with his mouth stuffed to the point his cheeks puffed like a pastry dish and oh don’t even get him started with the amount of sauce that stuck to his beard. Oh someone save him from looking like he has no owner.
As he turned to face whoever was speaking to him, he froze and suddenly he wanted to crawl inside himself. His blowfish expression exploded with embarrassment and shame. What made it worse was he felt some of the carbonara sauce dribbling down his chin and on to his shirt. Like a fucking five year old child.
Nathan peered next to him and he was no better either, lips coated in red tomato sauce, fingers greasy with oil and other suds, and dear lord did Nathan’s manners leave along with his hunger because as he started to speak with food in his mouth, bits of pieces of what he ate accidentally flew and smacked the side of Johnny’s cheek.
Humiliating. This was absolutely humiliating.
“Shit! Johnny- sorry mate!” Nathan’s grubby fingers grabbed a handful of tissues and clumsily swiped them across Johnny’s face. It didn’t help because Nathan’s saucy fingers decided to have a trip on Johnny’s own face.
They looked like clowns. They might as well just throw on some squeaky shoes, a red ball for a nose and a rainbow afro wig from the absolute comedic act they are showing.
Embarrassment, shame, and every synonym the thesaurus could offer burned a hole through Johnny’s stomach as he awkwardly pulled Nathan’s hands off his already burning face. “Mate- I-I got it-” Nathan shook his head, expression firm as he tried wiping his face. “Nah mate- I got this- oh, I missed a spot-”
Fuck me gently in the asshole with a chainsaw. He was dying inside and he felt (Name)’s confused gaze still on him. He didn’t want to know what thoughts were running through her head as he was babied by the other toddler on the table.
“Mate- Mate- this is goin’ nowhere-” Johnny awkwardly pushed Nathan’s hand off his face, “I’ll go wash my-my face” Oh his tongue gave up now, the embarrassment was stronger than him and that for one was a first. Usually the most embarrassing person in any friendgroup- even with 141 he never felt shame. Have you seen the way he drunkenly asked that mother from Tesco if she ever made butter out of her own breastmilk? Shame was afraid of him and his weirdness! How come a surprised perplexed expression from a woman he barely knew was what triggered embarrassment to take over him?
He awkwardly leaves the table to head off to the toilets to wash his face. When he passed those double doors he missed the frame that emerged from the ground and he stumbled forward- nearly meeting the floor before he caught his balance and straightened himself.
This was starting to look sad.
He was not going to turn around to see the snickering expressions of his coworkers so he stiffly hobbled to the men's room.
As he washed his face with cool water his mind replayed the embarrassing scene just then on loop. Mind melting with regret and awe of his own carelessness to act like an uncivilized caveman in the presence of his own damn boss too! What is everyone thinking? What are they saying? He should leave La Perle, two months was good work experience, it's time to work somewhere else. Time to work as a stripper or something because that is less embarrassing than eating like a dog.
As Johnny faced his own reflection he caught sight of his nice button up stained with sauce on the left side of his chest. He awkwardly hobbled to the toilets and wrapped the roll of tissue around his hand a few times before rushing back to the sink to damp it slightly with water and pat it on the stain.
The toilet’s exhaust hummed loudly and Johnny’s rushing thoughts came to a slow halt for a moment as he cleaned up himself. The overthinking by now eased and all he could do now was brace himself with endless teasing from Chen and the giggling chatter of everyone else.
“Way to go, MacTavish ye’r an absolute goldmine now.” He mumbled in surrender to social convention. He glanced up from his hand dealing with the stain and he couldn’t even make eye contact with his own reflection. With his free hand his fingertips gently touched his cheek and it was even warmer than before.
(Name) must have thought I was- That thought nearly killed him with what embarrassment he had left in him and he just wanted to go home.
A heavy sigh left his lips and he pulled the damp tissue off his chest and the stain seemed to spread even more than just get absorbed by the damp roll.
Great. This was absolutely fantastic. Johnny loved the way this evening was going. It was so fun. This is so fun he wants to vomit what he ate.
He gives up with the stain and tosses the roll in the bin then steps out of the men’s room.
“You alright?” Oh it was her. It was her. What the hell does he do- maybe he shouldn’t stare at her? That would be a good start.
Johnny collected himself and nodded, “Yeah, yeah I’m alrigh’” His fingers gently ran through the hairs at the nape of his neck, “-jus’ embarrassed is all…” He muttered briefly and as his eyes met hers his heart was melting with how mortified he was she witnessed him in such an embarrassing position.
She tilted her head slightly and the easy expression she usually had returned itself to her face though her eyes were smiling from pleasure she didn’t say. (Name) rummaged a hand through her sling bag and pulled out a small wet wipe and handed it to him as she gestured her jaw and neck, “You got a bit of something here…”
He followed her motion and wiped the spot. “You got it.. Nice…” She gave an awkward thumbs up and he nodded stiffly.
Then silence.
Clattering of silverware, customers chatting in the air, and two socially awkward birds who do not know how to interact with each other.
There was a moment where their eyes met then just looked away to observe the really interesting choices of colour that were painted on the wall (it was just white. No need to overthink it) only to have their eyes meet awkwardly once again. (Name) looked down the tiled ground as her heel tapped the ground and Johnny looked up to the small chandelier at the center of the restaurant. The direction of this moment wasn’t on whatever map they both have yet they still trudged through anyway (you go rockstars!).
Smoke from the nearby kitchen wafted through the air and rather than having the feeling of hunger return, Johnny wanted to go back to the bathroom and sit under the humming vents until everyone was gone. He swallowed and wet his lips as he dug a hand in his pockets.
“Do you want to get some fresh air?” She offered.
══════════════════════
Summer was coming to its end. Johnny could feel it with the cool winds whipping past them and the skies were dimming much earlier than it usually was. He breathed in the cool damp air caused by the rain earlier as he hid himself in his own jumper. He glanced towards (Name)’s direction and noticed the way she dug herself deeper in the comforts of her wool sweater, ears and neck red with circulation.
“Autumn is a little colder this year.” She said, her eyes searching for some form of agreement through his eyes. Johnny nodded, “Bit worse up north.” The memory of his dear mother and father sitting by the fire made him smile, he should visit them soon.
She quietly huddled closer to him for warmth and he didn’t move an inch, perhaps he was searching for warmth too. Her eyes focused back on the now slightly barren streets and he did the same. The road hummed slightly with the light thumping of cars that hit the speed bump a few meters ahead.
(Name) wrapped her arms around herself and tucked under her hands under her armpits for warmth as she turned to face him again, eyes wide with unsatiated curiosity, “Did you get shot?
Johnny’s attention from the array of cars was cut short as his expression morphed with absolute confusion, “I’m sorry?”
The woman leaned forward, a little closer like muttering a secret, “Did you get shot.” It sounded more like a statement than a question and he wasn’t sure what she was referring to. He gave it some thought, replaying the collection of long term memories in his mind of interactions with her until he settled on that day he witnessed her weeping, “The assignment?”
She nodded then pursed her lips. Her wide eyes didn’t falter with doubt, she must have been sure with her guess. Either that or she read his file which is a breach of confidentiality and privacy but that is for another day. Johnny crossed his arms over himself as he leaned back on one foot, he cocked his head to the side and a grin eased into his expression, “Are ye’ confident with that guess?”
She bobbed her head once again, “You only get one chance, bonnie.” He warned her. (Name) was quiet and her confident stare had the same effect as before and he felt like an open book.
Johnny unconsciously shrank himself further in his own jumper as he continued to hold her gaze.
“You never said there were chances…” She broke eye contact and looked around the ground, her heel tapped the damp floor once again as she leaned back to find her balance, “Or a prize for guessing…”
Oh. She’s right, he recalled ending that night’s conversation telling her it’s an assignment, then venturing off to help Nathan make the soup broth for the following day’s menu. After that they never really spoke to each other again, save for the occasional greetings when they passed by each other or when he ran into her after exiting the bathroom during his break.
She seemed nervous, maybe uncertain, did she actually want something from him? There’s nothing he can really offer her right now and one night stands with someone you work with is bound to have some work tensions developing somewhere in the future.
As Johnny’s silence stretched longer. (Name) nibbled her lower lip and her little foot taps on the ground quickened its pace. It was amusing to see her thoughts gnaw at her a bit, she was getting antsy, he could tell. He had to hold back a snicker from her plight.
He looked towards the sky and embraced the nonchalant character of Simon for a moment, “Did you want there to be a prize?” The innuendos and suggestions that could be made from that simple question was astounding.
“What are you offering?” She retorted back quickly. Well that wasn’t the response he was expecting. He feigned a thoughtful expression and hummed with exaggeration, “What do you like?” She wasn’t impressed and she crossed her arms over her chest, “Why can’t you just tell me?”
Johnny shrugs, “It’s entertaining to have you think so hard.” She froze then rolled her eyes playfully, “How funny.” She jabs back sarcastically.
She spun around for a moment and took a few steps forward and backwards, then she silently started pacing back and forth with thought. The Scotsman quietly observed her, the way her expression hardens when she thinks and the incoherent mumbling under her breath he is now realizing is a part of her character.
A suspicious feeling from before swirled in him and thoughts of surrendering himself to her was insane. What is warranting him to feel this way about her? Has he really craved another connection with someone to fully abdicate to her whims and mercy? No, this was just his body telling him he needs to get laid, maybe after a good scroll through Tinder and a one night stand he will have some mental clarity. This whole- praise thing and glorifying her presence and kneeling down to her feet was something his delusional mind was concocting.
“How about my prize is the truth?” She finalized then spun back to face him, her eyes gauging his expression. It was about time he stopped keeping what kind of medical injury he had a secret from her. Who knows she might resent him for being so secretive and we wouldn’t want to have any strains with work relationships now do we?
“You are morbidly curious.” She didn’t seem to deny the fact as her expression didn’t change, “Your curiosity won’t fly easily with my other mates, Bonnie.” He sighed and began to parade the night through a nightly stroll. She trailed right by his side like a lost duckling, “So will you tell me?”
Footsteps squelched underneath their feet , “You got it right.” Johnny admitted.
She was quiet, he wondered if she regretted asking in the first place or for insisting he tell her the truth, however such thoughts ended quickly, “Did you get shot multiple times?” her curiosity knows no bounds and her questions have crossed lines he knew his fellow men would not take too kindly.
He scoffed softly, “Just once.” His voice was a soft whisper and she caught it and held it tight in the thoughts of her mind like a secret should be.
Before she could utter another question he cut her breath with a question of his own, “I don’ think it’s fair for me to answer multiple questions without me askin’ stuff ‘bout you too.” He stopped abruptly and she followed suit. There was a few seconds where she stopped breathing to consider the proposition before she met his gaze and nodded rather reluctantly, “Don’t ask weird questions.” He had to hold back from saying ‘you’re one to talk’.
Johnny knew what question he wanted to ask first but he pretended to think of one anyway.
“Why’re you late today?”
She began their stroll and they turned left where the streets are lit with dim flickering lamp posts, “I was collecting stuff from my ex’s apartment.” She confessed briefly and her face didn’t seem to change from its easy expression.
The scotsman was surprised, “D’you mind if I asked what happened?” They stopped once again, right in front of a fish and chips store that definitely barely passed health and safety inspection. The ground was grimy with footprints from customers before that ran in and out. If Johnny peered on the cooking stove close to the window where you would order, he would have seen the build up of charred grease, oil, and all the lovely things that would have people hurl because they contracted some form of food poisoning from that stove.
(Name) looked up at the sign of the store and he noted the shape of her face and her eyes that twinkled in different hues from the store's lights, “Do you mind if I just..” She looks to her right, “vent? About it?”
He shook his head and they began huddling close to the walls to chat, “We were together for three years, I thought we were -” She scoffed and shook her head in absolute disbelief with what fuckfest happened then, “-I thought we were stable enough to just- y’know, not break up? But apparently he thought differently.”
Her voice cracked slightly then she sighed, out of breath from the well of emotions and she quickly wiped the tears that dared to roll out of her face, “Sorry- I.. Anyway, you know I was away for a bit? I did a bit of studying overseas at other restaurants to just learn more stuff and improve my skills.” When Johnny began working at the restaurant, the head chef was gone for overseas work. He didn’t really care much for it then but it’s good to know the purpose of her absence.
She tapped her heel against the floor as she continued, “Coming back he had brought in this younger, prettier girl from his friend’s birthday party over at our apartment. Apparently she was there for the last month!” Her voice trembled and rage overwhelmed her, “I knew something was up. I’m not fucking dumb!” By now her heel had stopped tapping against the ground and her voice was guttural with aching hurt.
Johnny nodded solemnly, understanding her plight.
She craned her neck to look at him, her eyes were sunken with sadness, “You know what he said when he came back? He had this dumb look on his dumb face and said, ‘I thought you were coming back next month?’” She imitated and mocked his face. From what Johnny was understanding, that ex partner of hers seemed to plan and continue this whole charade with her until her ‘supposed return date’.
“What a numpty cunt.” He commented and she sniffled slightly, “He’s on a ‘business trip’ right now. I’m taking this opportunity to take all my things to storage and stay over at my dad’s while I try to find another apartment.”
Johnny nodded thoughtfully, “Have you found one yet?” She nodded, “Kinda, I’m trying to schedule a day off for open inspection, but I just…” A fond look softened her teary eyes, “I really missed working at La Perle and frankly it’s the only thing saving me from crying myself to sleep in the morning.” Her face bloomed with surprise and she slapped a hand over her mouth, “That was embarrassing. Sorry- that must’ve been sad to hear.”
Johnny leaned back against the wall as he shook his head. There was simply no reason for him to judge her or pity her, rejection and failure for relationships to fully blossom under terrible weather conditions or poor maintenance were a part of life. People are complements to each other's lives, like a roadtrip to your final destination. Along the way you run into people who bring snacks and games for the trip, some are there for the journey, some are there to help fix when your car fails, some are there to get to one stop and some are there to reach that destination with you. That was simply just life.
“‘Sometimes in our lives, we all have pains we all have sorrow.’” Johnny started, “‘But if we are wise, we know there’s always tomorrow.’”
“Huh?” the scotsman grinned lightly, “Bill Withers, Lean on Me?” She shook her head from the lack of recognition and he was perturbed, “How- What?! You don’ know Bill Withers?!” His Scottish accent seemed to swiftly take over him and he began snapping his fingers on beat as he clumsily sang the intro of Ain’t No Sunshine and she stood there, hands tucked by her side as she watched him sing through several Bill Withers songs desperately (with actions!).
“You can’t be serious.” He gripped the sides of his head, vexed. She held back a smirk, “I just don’t like older music.” She explained.
Johnny shook his head, tutting to himself, “That is depressing.” Shaking his head he threw in another suggestion, “How about Just The Two of Us?” She shook her head, “You uncultured swine!” She erupted in cackled laughter at his desperate attempts to educate her on what he referred to as ‘music of the ages’.
He scrolled through his Spotify Liked playlist and proceeded to play songs from the seventies to nineties and for some ungodly reason she didn’t seem to recognize anything that wasn’t the British National Anthem.
Now he had a reason to judge her. He was judging her so hard his eyebrows are so furrowed together they might as well become a unibrow. He tongued his cheek with thoughts and criticisms over her lack of taste. He broadened his chest and leaned from one foot to the other, his hips jutting to one side. Truly a fruity pose.
“How is a child more cultured in our era of music than you?”
Her expression was light and easy with joy, “If anything, I like Taylor Swift?”
“So do five year olds.” He snapped back.
“Un-fuckin’-believable.” For some reason he was hopeful, “You’re jokin’ right?”
reader's defense mechanism against affection is punching people and gender neutral in reference to reader
When Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish first gave his partner a hickey, he was met with a swollen black eye the next day and a lot of coddling from his lovely partner who was the suspect that boxed his face to the earths crust.
Not his fault he didn’t ‘see’ it coming (pun so intended) but it all started on a nice warm Sunday morning just right before church where his partner woke up early to prepare some coffee for the both of them.
He followed their trail and he melts at the fact that he is home with the love of his life who is standing right there unaware of the chaotic and overwhelming love swelling within him. He wants to show the world that, that stunner of a human who’s brains rivals his own is his.
His body moves before he could even think and he settles his hand over their hips, face nuzzling into the crook of their neck and he breathes them in.
He gently peppered kisses on their shoulder then delicately swooped their hair to the side as he pressed a kiss at the nape of theirneck. They shivered and giggled breathlesly, “Johnny…”
He chuckles then pressed another set of kisses from their nape to the side of their neck, their hair falls pliant behind them and as he reached that spot below their ear he began to build the foundation of building his mark.
Perhaps he sucked too hard, perhaps that spot was too sensitive, but the layer of sensuality within the scene was broken with a quick spin and an instinctive box to his face.
“What are you doing?!” They panicked before panicking even more as they see Johnny groaning in pain as he gripped the right side of his face with redness surrounding his eye.
“Oh my God. JOHNNY!-“
They rushed over to Johnny’s side with a long apology as they cradled his face and kissed him with sincere sorrow and regret. By that point the pain Johnny felt was subdued because he is coddled by a wave of affection from his beautiful and amazing partner.
“I’ll get some ice. Johnny? Hun?-“ He nodded in a daze, before laying flat on the ground.
“If I knew you could pack a punch I would have recommended you in the military, love.” He said a pang of pain hits him and his world spins as he felt his partner pull away from him.
When they return he was, well, marginally feeling slightly better with an ice pack cool against his swelling eye and some pain killers to save his life. Best of all his face is cradled in the warm hands of his lover.
"I'm so sorry baby. I- I just didn't expect you to do what you did."
"So you decided to give me a black eye?"
They rolled their eyes before pulling the ice pack away from his face to inspect the damage.
"It looks terrible.. I'm horrible."
"You're not."
His love covered their face in shame, "It was just a big surprise- I don't know.. My body just reacted. I'm sorry."
Johnny laughs and though the pain in his right eye was stinging and pulsing hot with aching and swelling he pulls their hands down their face and kissed their cheek.
"I'm not mad. I'd rather get hit by you than anyone else any day."
They pouted, "Don't say that." Gently, they cradled Johnny's face and peppered kisses everywhere, and honestly Johnny liked where he was at.
The best part was he sort of got what he wanted. Rather than a hickey on his partner he got a bruise and a red eye to show for it.
⋆.˚ Chapter 1: murder investigations on a boy who used to love me
tw. mentions of death, grief, and violence
“Thank you for the weather report, Nancy. Twenty-two-year-old Christopher Miller was found dead in his residential home stabbed with his own kitchen knife; the murder suspect is nowhere to be found…”
The newscaster’s voice buzzes like white noise in my ears as I feel all the blood rush from my body, leaving me cold. My grip on the towel was tight, so tight my knuckles whitened.
“Oh my God, (Name) isn’t that your high school sweetheart?” My friend Rivka gasped and rushed to my side, “Are you okay?” I take a deep breath; my body is rattling with blood curdling shock and fear.
“I can’t believe it.” I glanced over Rivka's face, the sight of her breathing and existing fine filling me with ease, “I’m okay, I’m just shocked he’s-” The fact was difficult to say, I cleared my throat and croaked, “Dead.”
She hugs my side, “I send my sympathies and condolences (Name),” she quickly does a sign of the cross and whispers her prayers. I tossed the hand towel on the counter, the base of my palms meeting the edges of the counter as I glanced down at my shoes, taking in the information, the fact, that my high school sweetheart is as dead as it comes.
The silence weighs itself in me like a pulley system that never seems to pull itself up. God, it’s been five years, should I even attend his funeral? If there’s a funeral at all, I’m not sure if there will even be a funeral when a murder investigation like this is open.
I remember back when we were seventeen, he stole his dad’s car to drive us around the city where we blasted all the songs from his CD’s. Now it’s difficult to even drive a car reminiscing memories that have him in it without feeling a twang of grief over his death.
My legs were weak, the only strength and reason I’m standing at all is my denial. My mind has taken the fact he’s dead but if it’s someone dear to you especially someone who you dated and practically became your everything at seventeen well, my heart couldn’t take it.
A deep breath I took erupted in a painful explosion in my chest, “I think I’m leaving early…” Rivka hummed and gently squeezed my shoulder, “Please take care of yourself (Name).”
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The drive home was weighed with grief filled silence. I refused to turn the radio on because of the risky reminder that I might hear something evermore gruesome when Chris was about to die. Well, I also regret not turning the radio on because my mind has plenty of creativity to make scenarios and imagine myself in his position when he took his last breath. It pains me.
Christopher was a great guy and for him to lose his life so quickly after graduation when he barely even started his new beginning as a full-fledged adult, it makes me feel like throwing up.
I remember he volunteered in Red Cross blood donations every month because his sister had leukaemia, when I went with him for his monthly blood donations, he told me that he wanted to do this so people who are ill like his sister have a chance to live.
Well, chances of his life to properly live has been stolen because of a rogue murderer.
My indicator clicks every few seconds as I look left and right in the intersection before swerving my car to the left. Out of nowhere, a man came into view of my windshield, and I screamed unbelievably loud as I switched my footing from my accelerator to my break. My heart pounds in my ears as I dread the idea of adding another statistic into the news of car accidents.
I was following the speed limit of my suburb, yet I felt like I was going 90. My car screeches to a halt and the man stares me down as he crosses the street, his dark eyes glaring at me as if I ruined his day for life. At least I didn’t kill him. His blood all over my car would be enough to bring me trauma to my already hellish day.
I sighed and continued the road to my apartment, this time a little more careful of any more random pedestrians who wanted to teleport in front of my car for a death wish.
I guess my mind has been too preoccupied to even notice that I arrived at my apartment though once I do, I park my car by the driveway and shut the engine off. I can’t tell you how long I just sat inside there in silence, occasionally I rolled my windows down to listen to the whispers of the wind against the rustling trees that would sway in the breeze’s current. Then I’d wonder if Chris was still alive, how would he feel sitting in his car listening to trees like I was. He was always very down to earth, appreciated what was around him, I can only assume he’d say something like, the wind reminded him of his summer home back in Glendale, California and how he hoped winds like this wouldn’t change, but global warming is in the air, and I doubt the ice caps are withstanding humanity’s self-destruction.
Once I felt like my moping session was done, I hopped out of the car and got ready for my nightly routine with a heavy heart.
══════════════════════
There’s no way people thought that plastic straw was labelled a saint. All these grieving people are throwing their never-ending sympathies around for this dipshit they barely even know, they say things like, ‘He was a good kid.’ or ‘He passed too soon.’ It’s all stupid, in the end their words are nothing more than diluted forms of essence that lack any sort of substance. They know nothing about that boy.
My brows furrow and I feel my well of anger start to stir. No one, not even dad, spared their sympathies when Lyra died because they thought I was a freak. Those fuckos.
“To think some people are still on to you Toby. I’m surprised.” I had nothing to say to Brian, so I stared at that damn mask, my ticking making a show of itself on my body as I sighed. I want to go home.
I flinch at the sudden blood curdling yell from inside the home and Brian chuckles at the sound. A sudden thrumming twisted inside my brain, something like what people called a migraine or some shit and I massaged my temple. I can already feel skinny boss yelling his balls off for this. Skinny boss was always particular when we did shit like this.
Make sure no one hears and clean up after yourself.
Well Tim, you have made yourself a prime example of what we shouldn’t be doing. There goes covering our tracks, the dumb shit inside is making them scream their heads off in a populated neighbourhood and it isn’t even through sex.
I can already imagine the visceral scene Tim was making. The floor is pooled with blood and splashes of organic tissues will be all over the space the victim is being shanked, the walls will have splatters and hand marks that are dragged across the floor. The victim will be shaking like a newborn bird learning to fly and like a new baby bird will only plummet to its doom when we hear the familiar scream of “HEL-!”
Then silence.
I look up at Brian, “Tim’s mad, isn’t he?” my hands find the radio and for some reason Jack’s CD is playing Usher’s, There Goes My Baby. Brian hums and chuckles, before reaching into his black hoodie for a cigarette, “I pissed him off.” He summed it up before turning his lighter on, lighting the nicotine stick, his index and middle finger swiftly pulling the stick from his lips before a blur of smoke clouds the pick-up truck.
“You know I hate it when you smoke in the car.”
Brian shrugs and shoves the pack of cigarettes in my face, “Learn to love it or cry like a bitch.” I leaned back into the seat with my arms crossed and I could just tell Brian was loving the fact I couldn’t do anything about it.
It wasn’t long when the lights of the house were turned off and Tim walked out of the front door, his stride similar to those snobby business men who walk fast paced because they are meeting with very important people, only his pompous walk was slower due to his top heavier build, his footsteps echoing with low thuds until he reaches the car and swings Brian’s door open and grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie before throwing flat on the ground.
“FUCK YOU.”
Brian’s a bit, no not even a bit, he is psycho, so he started laughing. The kind of laugh that makes your stomach hurt and lungs crave air. Tim ripped his mask off and tossed it in the window of the car before balling his hands up into a fist to beat the shit out of Brian again.
There goes my baby~ For sure Usher, there goes the fuckwits who were supposed to be a prime example of the order and yet here we are.
It’s kind of comedic to hear Usher sing so passionately in the background while Brian is getting manhandled and clobbered close to death. I should record this.
I feel my back pocket for my phone.
“Shit, I think I left my phone outside that Christopher fucker’s backyard.”
Tim stopped beating the shit out of Brian and stared at me, brows furrowed and eyes screaming something beyond furious and pissed off.
