party 4 u | sjn
dj!ex!johnny x f!reader
summary: your ex left years ago to chase his dj dreams, taking your heart with him. now, johnny’s made it big and is back for a hometown show, except this time you make sure he takes all of you.
(or: he only threw this party for you.)
wc: 3.3k
genre: angst, smut, exes-to-lovers 18+ mdni
cw: unprotected pinv sex (no </3), mirror sex, backshots!, yearning, manhandling, sex in a dressing room, fingering, nipple play, possessive johnny, dirty talk, pet names: baby, love
the music is blasting, you can feel the beat of the bass in your chest, and people all around you are moving to the music.
you look up at the one they all surround, and you see him.
you haven’t seen johnny in years. he hasn’t been here in years.
he looks good—hair falling behind his ears, headphones framing his face, tattoos adorning his exposed arms. some you recognize and some you don’t.
you shouldn’t be here, not when he walked away from you all those years ago to chase his dreams.
you don’t blame him—he really had something going with his budding dj career, and the sheer crowd at his hometown show today is living proof of that.
that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt back then, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt now.
when your friend sent you the post saying he was coming to town for a show, you couldn’t even see the account—you had him blocked. you’d heard he’d made it big, seen some clips, but you never let yourself indulge.
against your better judgement, you unblocked him, and indulge you did, taking in all the content you’d missed over the years—his travels, friends, highs, lows—everything he’d posted showing how he’d been doing in his time away from you.
and god, he looked happy—like he didn’t think of you nearly as much as you tried not to think about him.
you’re happy, in a way, but he’s always lingered in the back of your mind, hanging onto your subconscious like a vice.
so why the hell are you here?
maybe you were hoping that coming here tonight could help you let go—that maybe, just maybe, if you saw just how far of a distance you’d grown apart with your own eyes, you’d be able to close your chapter with him forever.
but as you watch him sway to the music, a soft smile on his face as he scans the crowd’s reactions to the magic he works on the turntable, you know you’ve made a mistake coming here.
you should’ve never unblocked him, never bought this ticket, never come over here. it’s stupid, but you can’t bring yourself to look away.
you linger by the exit, but stay for the rest of his set.
and as he thanks the crowd for a great night, you feel your entire body jolt as he looks straight in your direction.
there’s no way he could’ve seen you, not from this far, but the way his whole body freezes is too noticeable. quick, but noticeable. he resumes his grateful smile, waving goodbye to the roaring crowd as you turn to leave.
you rush out the door, cheers of “encore! encore!” drowning out behind you. the muffled music starts back up through the walls.
you let out a heavy sigh as you walk away with an even heavier heart. after tonight, you’ll go back to trying to forget him, though any progress you’d made was probably undone.
so much for closure.
a call of your name in a voice all too familiar stops you in your tracks.
you turn around slowly, scared of who you’re going to see. but you know exactly who it is. that same deep voice that called your name with so much love until it didn’t—how could you ever forget?
and when you finally look at him, it feels like everything’s stopped. you can’t even hear the music anymore, not over the sound of your own heart racing.
“johnny.”
he’s catching his breath. did he run over here? what about his encore? how did he see you from all the way over there?
you have so many questions, yet you can say nothing more than his name.
“come with me.”
he grabs your hand, leading you back to the side entrance you assume he came out from, and you let him. the second you feel his hand in yours again, any resistance you could’ve had dissipates.
when he doesn’t feel you fighting his hold, he interweaves his fingers with yours, and oh, how you missed this feeling. you could tell the feeling of his hands on yours with your eyes closed.
you can hear the music through the walls again, and he leads you to a random dressing room. you still don’t know what to say to him, even as he clicks the door shut.
you don’t get the chance to speak.
in a second, you’re up against the door, his lips on yours—it’s messy, hungry, greedy, as if he’s trying to eat you whole.
your first instinct is to push him away, to ask him why he’s doing this after all this time, but you don’t. you can’t, not when having his lips against yours feels so right. it’s the feeling you’ve been missing, only appearing in your memories and dreams.
he explores your mouth as if he knows it like the back of his hand—like he never forgot it.
so you kiss him back with just as much force, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers threading through his short locks, gripping them as if he’d disappear if you let him go.
he groans into your mouth at your reciprocation, pressing his body even tighter against yours. you shiver at how firm his body feels against yours. it was one thing to see him up there, but being caged between those arms you couldn’t keep your eyes of is another. he’s always been big, but he’s definitely bulked up since the last time you saw him.
one of his hands makes its way to your waist, down your hip, and back to your ass, giving a light squeeze. he trails it down, hooking it behind your knee as he raises your leg to wrap around him, slotting himself between your legs.
you can feel how hard he is, aching against the confine of his perfectly fitting jeans. he rocks against you slightly, your mouths still melded in a heated embrace, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth at the feeling.
it feels like there’s a fire in your stomach, but there’s also a giddy feeling—like butterflies fluttering around.
you can still get a reaction out of him. he still wants you, even if you can only see it from the way his body reacts to you. for now, that’s okay.
you move your hips to meet his eagerly, and with your arms still gripped around his neck, his other hand falls to your other thigh, lifting you into his arms. your mouth separates from his in shock at the feeling of your being lifted into the air, clinging tighter to him so you won’t fall. you’re both breathless, but his mouth chases yours, settling right back into a deep kiss.
your ass lands on gently on the vanity table jutting out from the wall, and as johnny parts from you, a trail of saliva separating your lips, you finally get a good look at him. the lights on the mirror behind you illuminate him.
he’s grown so much. you can see the way his face has lost the roundness it had in your younger years and the slight bags under his eyes, yet he’s still the same johnny you loved.
he seems to be taking you in, too, his eyes moving between your eyes, and back down to your lips. his hands bunch up the sides of your shirt, letting his hands run over the bare skin of your waist. you shudder as his fingers dip into the waistband of your pants, not quite reaching as far in as you’d like them to.
he tugs your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra from behind you with practice, and as he removes your bra, he breathes out in awe.
“fuck, you’re just as beautiful as i remember.”
you don’t get to reply before he drags you off the table, flipping you around in a flash. your hands move to steady yourself against the table, bent over slightly with johnny pressed up against you.
you look up and see the two of you in the mirror, and immediately you’re clenching at the thought of what you’ll see him doing to you. he runs his hands up your chest, loving the way your tits look in his hands, his fingers brushing your nipples carefully.
he watches the way your expression twists with every pinch and flick of his fingers, his mouth coming down on your neck. his warm breath fans along your skin before he’s leaving deepening kisses along your neck and shoulders, every so often nipping harder in a way that you know will leave marks.
you want him to leave marks, you want reminders of him to come.
you press your backside against him, whining out pathetically. “johnny, please.”
he obliges you right away, knowing exactly what you want. he’s always known exactly what you want. he wastes no time tugging your pants and soaked underwear down, and you gasp at the feeling of his fingers sliding between your folds, coating his fingers in your juices.
“i’ve got you, baby,” he mutters, mouth falling back on your shoulder, and your head dips at the feeling. he runs his fingers up and down your slit, dancing around your entrance, before carefully teasing a finger into you. you gasp at the feeling of his long digit easing into you, feeling each knuckle until its to the hilt.
he feels you clench around him, and after he slides his finger right back out to the tip, he dips back in with another finger in tow. mewls of pleasure leave your lips as he scissors his digits in you, stretching you just right, picking you apart like he always did.
with the way his other hand snakes around your front to toy around with your clit, you know he wants you to fall apart. you want him closer, to fill you up to the brim, but you know he won’t do it unless you cum first. he’d always made you cum first.
you move your hips in times with his hands, knowing this has to go exactly as he wants it to, and you’re okay with that. you’re more than okay with that—trusting your body into his hands.
he thrusts his fingers in and out of you in time with his swipes over your clit, and you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening as the seconds pass.
you finally gain the strength to tilt your head up just enough to see your reflection, and when you make eye contact with johnny through the mirror, his gaze dark and fixed on you, you’re finished.
“go ahead, baby,” he instructs, and you fall apart in his hands, mouth parted in an oh as the knot unravels, legs closing around his hands as he works you through your orgasm. you can barely keep your eyes open with the way he still plunges his fingers in and out of you, fighting through the grip your clenching pussy and closed legs have on his hands.
he finally pulls his fingers out of you and you collapse against the table, supported by one of his arms wrapping around your middle to keep your legs from completely giving out.
he brings his free hand, the one he pulled out from your cunt, to his mouth, and you cry out as his tongue darts out, lapping up your juices from his fingers, his eyes still trained on yours. it lights another fire in you.
with some newfound strength, you reach behind you, palming at the painfully hard tent in his jeans, trying to blindly fumble with the buttons of his pants. you don’t care how desperate you look, you need him inside of you, now.
a smirk lights his face as he watches you fumble with his pants, his own hand moving down to take care of it for you, unbuttoning his pants with ease and pulling them down just enough to untuck his raging member from his underwear. “you want me that bad?”
you want him so badly, more than anything right now, and you let him know that.
“yes, yes—johnny, please fuck me.” you press your dripping mound against him, gasping as you feel the heat slot between your lips, grinding up and down. “johnny.. i need you.”
that seems to do it for him, and he wraps his hand around his cock, pressing his tip into your waiting hole. you hiss at the stretch as he slowly eases in, not quite used to taking anyone as big as he is in such a long time.
“so fuckin’ tight—fuck, so tight for me.”
you lean back into him, feeling every ridge of him as he inches in bit by bit and as he bottoms out, you feel like you could cry. he fills you up so perfectly.
he lets you settle for a bit, swiveling his hips to get you readjusted to him, little gasps and cries leaving you with each movement.
“god, baby—you feel so good around me.” your eyes, which closed tightly sometime during his bottoming out, open back up to meet his, and his gaze narrows into a glare that sends shivers down your spine. “have you had anyone else here? let anyone else in what belongs to me?”
you clench around him at his possessive streak. he was always a laid back lover, never one to get unreasonably jealous, but he knew how to remind you who you came home to.
you’d had a few flings in the past few years, even had one relationship that lasted a few months, but no one ever compared to johnny—you don’t think anyone ever could.
he pulls out, thrusting back in at once, your body jolting against the table. “answer me, love.”
love. his voice is still harsh, but he reminds you of a time where the soft nickname was synonymous with your name in your world with johnny. your voice trembles, but you’re honest. you could never lie to him.
“y-yes.”
he thrusts again, harder, his hands moving to grip at your waist, fingers digging into the plush flesh.
“fuck,” is all he says before he drives into you harsher, angrier, setting a steady pace that has you seeing stars, his front slapping against your ass with every thrust. “fuck,” he repeats, more agitated.
his pace picks up, slapping sounds and moans filling the room, his grip surely leaving bruises that will reveal themselves in the morning. you can barely form any thoughts, but an ugly feeling rears itself in your stomach.
“what about you?” you ask, quietly—scared of the likely possibility that he’d had other people in this position, that he’d shared himself with them. held them just like he held you.
his focus momentarily falters, but he returns his attention to you, still moving his hips against yours as he responds breathily.
“no. never.” his whole demeanor softens just slightly, but you think you still know him enough to recognize even the slightest shift. you watch as his face falls into a pained grimace through the mirror. “even if i thought about trying to, all i could think about was you.”
his words send a wave of both relief and confusion through all the pleasure. you remember the shell of a person you were after he left you, waiting for him by the window dreaming he’d come back, calling his phone only for it to ring and ring until you reached his voicemail.
“i’m yours, love,” he grunts.
how can he come back after all this time and tell you everything you’d needed to hear since the day he left?
you convinced yourself he didn’t love you, and part of you wishes he would just treat you like someone that he never loved—it wouldn’t have your heart clawing its way out of your chest as he fucks into you desperately.
but as if trying to rewrite every bit of uncertainty you experienced, this johnny is making it so, so clear.
“and you’re mine,” he growls, though underneath his strong facade is the hope that what he’s saying is true. “no one could make you feel as good as i do—no one can fuck you like this, fill you up like this.”
your eyes rake up and down your forms in the mirror. his hands around your hips, his lips on your shoulder, marks blossoming over your skin.
“say it—say you’re mine,” he almost pleas, his face still pained. as your eyes drag back and forth between the two of you, you know. you love the way you look in his arms, how he makes you fall apart like no one else ever has.
so you admit it.
“y-yeah—oh-,” you stutter with an angling of his hips. “i’m yours, i’m yours.” you cry out as he snaps against you even more intensely at your confirmation, like it’s broken the last bit of restraint he had.
that’s all the two of you need, your eyes not leaving his as he snakes a hand around your front between your thighs, rubbing quick, harsh circles into your clit, hissing as you clench around him at the sensation.
your eyes flutter, and your head threatens to fall, but you use your strength to keep your eyes on johnny through the mirror—on both of you. you want to burn this sight into your memory so that you’d never forget it again.
he bites his lip, deep, gravelly groans leaving his throat as he chases both of your highs, but as his lips part, words spill out before he can catch them.
“i love you, i love you, i love you.” his voice is still deep and rough, but filled with pure desperation, and it’s this confession that has you tumbling over the edge with a loud cry, your legs trembling under the force of his thrusts pushing you into overstimulation.
he follows soon after, pulling out at the last second and releasing over your ass and lower back, the warm spurts painting your skin.
you lean your head against the cool glass of the mirror as you both catch your breath. he slowly but carefully uses his shirt to clean his cum off of your back, tucks himself back into his pants with a sharp intake, and spins you around gently, holding you against him.
you let him hold you, not that you think you even have it in you to deny him. you don’t know if it’ll be the last time, but you don’t want it to be.
you break the silence.
“why did you leave?” you mutter against his chest. you breathe in his scent, taking in the combination of cologne, sweat, and a faint hint of cigarettes.
he pulls apart from you, holding your face in his hands before laying a sweet, deep kiss on your lips.
“because i’m stupid,” he admits with a sad smile. “i thought about coming back, but it also felt unfair to both you and me.”
a brief silence passes. you want him to expand on that, but you have an even more urgent question at hand.
“did you mean what you said earlier?” you ask. it hurts to doubt what you’ve wanted for so long, but you’re so scared it was in the heat of the moment. it’s the last confirmation you need before trusting yourself to him again.
“i told myself if i didn’t see you tonight, i’d let go of you forever. i—” he pauses, taking a deep breath, and you feel the way he tenses. “i only put on this show hoping you’d come.”
he holds you to him again, his embrace feeling just a bit fearful, yet still so certain. he lets his head drop onto your neck, breathing you in, rememorizing the feeling of you in his arms.
“i love you, and now that i have you back, i won’t let go of you again.”
you close your eyes, leaning your head against his. it feels as if you’ve just placed the last piece of a puzzle you left long unfinished, and it’s time to start a new one that you’ll figure out in time. together.
you love him, too—you never stopped.
end.
a/n: first song fic? is anyone else in emotional mental physical anguish whenever dj johnny comes up on the tl…. he’s crazy.. but anyways here’s something short and bittersweet, once again trying to get back into the groove of writing! feeling a bit freer now not including weed in everything tho i do miss writing stoner!nct (hopefully will be back soon)
i love this song and i love dj johnny be w my whole heart
feedback and shares always appreciated!
ദ്ദി(。•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊
-coco ♡











