thinking of frat!johnny who has genuine tears in his eyes when he sneaks his hand into your underwear during movie night and realises you’re clean shaven.
his head falls onto your shoulder and a sad little whimper leaves him. no, he’s not crying (yet), he’s just making his dislike known before he starts to mumble about how he’s grieving now and asking what he’s supposed to use to fidget during the boring parts.
his soft little heart breaks at how cold it might feel now that it’s missing its little jacket. let him warm you up with his mouth.
summary: you never thought you'd be the one asking your boyfriend to take your virginity but after so long getting wound up and pushed to the point of madness, you're the one who has to make the move
word count: 5.2k
cw: MDNI 18+, f!reader, the plot is porn, virgin!reader, a little dry humping/grinding, dirty talk, praise, oral f!receiving (all my fictional men are munches idc), fingering, handjob, protected sex, p in v sex, multiple orgasms
a/n: feedback is very much appreciated :)))
dividers from cursed-carmine!
There couldn't possibly be another man on the face of the planet that made you feel the way Johnny Seo did. Sure, you were inexperienced. Sure, you'd had crushes before, but none of that compared to being with Johnny. Despite your sexual and romantic naivete, he never made you feel like it was a hindrance. In fact, nearly a year into your relationship, 10 months to be exact, you hadn't done more than make out with some heavy petting.
He was so pleased to go at your pace, that you were beginning to think you were the only one with sexual needs. You were a virgin, but you weren't dumb. You had assumed that he would show how much he was affected just based on his basic bodily responses, but that only happened once in a blue moon.
In less than a year, you'd gone from having never been kissed to ending make out sessions half way through because you just couldn't handle how hot everything became. There was a mix of arousal and nerves that would sit heavy in the pit of your stomach and make you stop what you were doing. A tiny voice that was just loud enough to make itself known over fuzziness in your head that told you you weren't ready for more.
For months, you let yourself be controlled by that tiny voice until you decided to take charge for yourself. Johnny made you feel safe, cared for, beautiful, and he made you feel good. Even if the extent of the pleasure so far was tingling lips and a hand up your shirt. You were proactive and you wanted to be prepared, so you started to do your research: best birth control methods, different birth control pills and their side effects, lube, condoms, best positions to lose your virginity in, everything! You were basically an expert in sex without even having it yet. You just needed to build up the courage to make a move…
Thankfully, you didn't have to wait long. The universe sends you the best opportunity there is to offer: your ovulation window, Johnny laid beneath you in your bed in gray sweatpants, a rainy day, and no commitments for the rest of the day.
Your knees cage him in on either side of his waist, your sheets tangled beneath the two of you already from your passionate exchange. Somewhere on the floor your shirt has been tossed aside in favor of less boundaries between your bodies. His lips taste sweet like the vanilla flavored chapstick he religiously swipes on, hands warm and firm on your hips. The sound of your lips against his own is only rivaled in volume by the sound of the rain against your window.
The familiar buzz of barely controllable arousal starts to set in, making your skin feel alive and your hips begin to rock slowly, experimentally. Johnny's grip tightens and you breathe out a soft whine against his lips, turning your head away for a second to fill your lungs with fresh air.
His lips trail down your neck, finding the spots only he knows about, the spots that drive you crazy with wanton need. You begin to rock against him harder, nothing crazy, but enough to show you need more. At least, you hope it's enough.
You tilt your head back, granting his mouth further access, as his lips travel south, mouthing at the exposed skin of your collar bones when your oversized t-shirt shifts. You feel like you're being driven insane, taking minute moments of pleasure while he hardly reacts.
You suck in a sharp breath, fingers tightening in his hair as bites a mark beneath your collar bone. "Johnny," you breathe out shakily, earning a distracted hum in response, "I want to have sex. With you. Right now."
He tenses beneath you, pulling away from your chest as he meets your eyes with a look of concern, "are you sure, honey?"
You nod, "John, I've been sure for almost two months now. I was waiting to see if I'd ever see you as wound up as I always am, but it hasn't happened yet and I'm going crazy."
He lets out a low chuckle, "I have to force myself to remember the periodic table when I feel myself start to get hard. I wanted you to tell me when you were ready, didn't want you to feel pressured at all."
You swear you feel your heart skip a beat, "and I really appreciate that, but I think if you don't have sex with me soon, like in the next few hours, I'll have to be locked away for my own sanity and your safety. Only if you want to of course."
"Of course I want to, I'd be crazy not to," Johnny replies, a gentle hand tucking your hair behind your ear, "but I don't have any protection. I wasn't expecting this."
You feel your face burn with embarrassment, ready to reveal just how eager you've been for this. You climb off his lap, standing and pulling open the top drawer of your bedside table to reveal the multitude of items you've been collecting. You wring your hands together nervously, "I've been on the pill for just under two months but I bought condoms too. There are different sizes and features to them, I guess, since I didn't know what you preferred."
"This stuff has been here all this time?" Johnny asks incredulously with his brows raised in surprise.
"A couple weeks. Ever since I decided I had to say something and make a move. I'm not sure if I got everything right though," you mumble shyly, avoiding eye contact.
"We're more than prepared," Johnny reassures warmly, reaching for your hand. You let him tug you back onto the bed with a teasing smile with a box of XL condoms in his free hand, "how'd you know my size?"
"I had to guess based on your stature," you reply, suddenly feeling your heart jump up into your throat, "are you actually extra large?"
"My dick or the condom? Because the answer to both is yes," Johnny states with a deadpan expression before bursting into laughter.
He pushes you back onto the mattress, peppering your face with soft kisses that start to chip away at the nerves that have begun to build up. "Don't worry, honey, I'll make sure you're well prepared and try to make this the best experience for you possible. Make sure you tell me what you like, what feels good, or any changes I need to make."
You allow yourself to get lost in the familiar, addicting feeling of his lips against your own. Maybe you're in your own head again, but these kisses feel different— hungrier and unrestrained. You can hear him now over the pounding of your heart in your own ears, his soft grunts and growls as his hands slide their way to your waist. His fingers dip beneath your waistband and his hot breath fans over your face, "can I take these off?"
You nod dumbly, intoxicated by the kiss. He taps your hip and you blink, clearing your throat before answering, "yes."
"Good girl," he breathes out, sending a wave of arousal through your body as he tugs your cotton shorts down your legs, "using your words."
He focuses his lips on your neck next, nipping and sucking marks into your soft skin as you throw shame and shyness out the window, mewling wantonly to voice just how much you like what he's doing. Your hands wander across the broad expanse of his back, your whole body feeling hotter and more tightly wound than ever. Still, you find enough sense to mumble, "can you take your shirt off? Your pants? Something— god— I don't feel close enough to you."
He nods jerkily, peeling himself away from you to pull his shirt off, the bunched up fabric joining your discarded clothes on the floor in a heap. Soon enough, the gray cotton of his sweatpants joins the rest of the mess on the floor.
With his pants on the floor, there's nothing hiding the tent in your boyfriend's boxers. He's hard, tenting the fabric that covers his dick, but there's still no denying just how big he is. You can't tear your eyes away from the view, a mix of nerves and excitement building in your veins, still, you gulp.
A gentle hand on your chin breaks your gaze and a warm, familiar brown eyes look down at you, "we can stop anytime you want. You say the word, you tap me— whatever. If at any point you change your mind, we will stop. Alright?"
"Yeah," you breathe out shakily with a nod.
He nods decisively in return, hands on his knees as he sits back on his haunches, "I want this to be as good for you as possible, so I'm going to warm you up a bit. Are you alright with me eating you out?"
"You want to?" You ask with genuine curiosity, cocking your head to the side. Alright, so a lot of your research was made up of watching porn of all kinds within the virgin category and most your research led you to the assumption that he would finger you for a bit before fucking you. You seldom came across any videos —amateur, virgin, or otherwise— that started with the guy eating his partner out.
Johnny smiles, endeared as he reaches for a throw pillow, nearly pushed off your bed in your passionate exchange, "penetration will more than likely feel more comfortable if you're wetter and more relaxed. If you don't like it, we can stop."
"What if you don't like it?" You shyly respond, lifting your hips enough for Johnny to wedge the pillow beneath your hips.
He shakes his head, "not possible. Is it okay if I take you panties off?"
You're stuck in the heart racing realization that you've managed to bag a munch. You've heard stories about this, watched TikToks and read comments all about men like this and how lucky the women felt, but you never expected it for yourself. You bite the inside of your bottom lip, thankfully feeling more aroused than self-conscious, "that's fine."
You lay your head back against the pillows against your headboard and force your body to relax, though the drag of your panties down your legs makes your heart pound loudly. Johnny's hands are warm as they finds your knees and gently pry your legs apart. He whispers a drawn out, "fuck me," before lowering his body to be eye level with your center.
For just a second, your bare ceiling is enough to hold your interest. Just a second though. Suddenly there's the feel of Johnny's mouth in places it's never been. A trail of kisses up your right thigh, then up your left, a smattering of kisses over the bottom of your stomach and right back to either side of where you need him most, where you're already dripping for him. It draws a long breathy moan from your lungs that heightens in pitch at the sharp bite of his teeth on your right inner thigh.
"John—" you barely get a chance to breathe out before there's a sensation unlike any other against your clit. He swipes his tongue in a slow, teasing drag against the bud before sucking with a pleased hum. He sounds pleased, hands gripping your hips tightly while you feel like you're already on the brink of melting into your mattress.
You let yourself get lost in the mind-melting swirl of his tongue on your clit. His lips suck slowly, creating a pleasurable suction feeling as he bobs his head, burying his face into your cunt like he can't get enough of you. You bury one of your hands in the silky strands of his hair, thighs instinctively clamping on either side of his head as if your body already knows he doesn't belong anywhere else. Months ago the idea of being intimate with Johnny brought you anxiety, you were nervous about how you'd look, or sound, or act. Now, those things are the furthest things from your mind as you wantonly mewl beneath his expert tongue.
Just when you think it can't get any better, there's a new sensation dragging down your sex and slowly circling your entrance. "Can I finger you?" Johnny asks in a husky tone.
Even as quickly as he asks it, the brief loss of his mouth against you draws a whine from your mouth, "yes. Don't stop using your mouth though."
He chuckles in amusement, taking your consent and pushing his finger into you with a playful tsk, "bossy Bee."
You don't have any fight left in you when your body focuses instead on the curling, calculated thrust of his thick finger and how it curls against that spongy spot inside you. It makes your walls clench, eager to suck him in and keep his digit inside you. It's good, it's so fucking good and then he returns with an impassioned drag of his tongue against your clit before sinking another finger into your heat.
Your fingers tighten in his hair, your free hand finding purchase in the messy sheets beneath your writhing body, looking for anything to keep you steady and anchor you to your sanity. There are mindless moans and whines of pleasure escaping your lips as the ecstasy grows past anything you've ever felt before.
It's the rhythmic pumping of his fingers against that sweet spot inside you that has the knot in your stomach tightening to its breaking point and your leg flying up to dig your heel between his shoulder blades. A gasp mixes with a shriek, your head thrown back pure, white heat begins to spread from your center and spread outward.
Gone is the languid lap of his tongue against your clit and the slow thrust of his finger in your heat. You can hear him growl as his tongue speeds up, circling the pads of his fingers against the gooey spot inside you as his tongue flicks rapidly against your clit.
You pull helplessly at his hair, tears of overwhelming pleasure building at the corners of your eyes, "Johnny! I— fuck!"
His hot breath fans against your sex as he devours you. With one more calculated curl of his fingers and a sharp rub against your inner wall, you curl forward with a scream of pleasure. Your orgasm washes over you in a way you've never felt before. None of your toys or even your own hand have made you feel this good. You never even dreamed that being with Johnny would be this good.
Your heart is still racing in your chest, pounding in your ears when the pleasure stars to ebb away, leaving you feeling like a shell of yourself. When all your senses have returned, there's the sudden realization that Johnny hasn't moved. His head is still buried between your legs, lapping at the excess wetness with his hands gently, but firmly holding your legs open.
You moan lowly, loosening you grip on his hair to a soft rub of your fingers against his scalp, "if you don't stop, I might cum again."
Johnny laughs against you, his mouth slowing until he stops completely. He props his chin up on your thigh, chin shiny with the evidence of your release and a frustratingly handsome cocky grin stretched across his lips, "would that be such a bad thing?"
You roll your eyes playfully, reaching out to wipe at the wetness coating his chin with your thumb. He pushes your hand away gently, "I'm saving that for later, Honey."
You lie back with your hands covering your heated cheeks, hating how his crude comment is making you smile. He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your hip, "what did you think?"
"I couldn't think," you mumble shyly, "is it always that good?"
"Sure, if I have any part in it. Which I will," he stresses before asking carefully, "you good, Honey?"
You sigh wistfully, uncovering your face to look down at him with a nod, "I feel really good."
"Good," he smiles in return, surging forward to press a loving, wet kiss to your cheek before laying beside you.
For a few minutes, only the sound of rain hitting the windows can be heard. Johnny's fingers trace circles on your hip as you trace mindless shapes over the expanse of his abs. You feel comfortable and warm, closer to your boyfriend than ever before and glad that you chose the right person to trust with this experience.
It's there that your mind begins to wonder. Of course, the oral sex was good, but what would actual sex feel like? Would it feel as good? Would you cum? Before you can begin an anxious downward spiral, you pick your head up, resting your chin on his pec, "can we have sex now?"
"If you're ready," Johnny replies, a gentle hand pushing your hair out of your face.
"That's why I'm asking," you giggle, sitting up to tear into one of the boxes of condoms. You tear a packet off the strip and pass it to your boyfriend while arching a brow, "are you ready?"
"I'm leaking in boxers like a damn teen again. Yes, Honey, I'm ready," he borderline growls, large hand finding your cheek to draw you in for a kiss. The kiss is sloppy. There's more teeth and tongue than have ever been present in any of your shared kisses. There's a striking new flavor on his mouth, the taste of you that he pushes past your lips with every prod of his tongue and breath against your mouth.
You hear the crinkle of the foil and tear yourself away from the kiss with pleasantly tingling lips as you pant, "can I put it on you?"
Johnny gulps, nodding fervently. "I'm gonna take my boxers off now Honey," he tells you, waiting for your nod before he pulls his underwear down his legs and throws them onto the floor.
There's an excited static in your fingers as you drag our tongue up the length of you fingers before spitting into your palm. You lift your eyes, innocently asking, "like this, right?"
"Holy shit," Johnny breathes out, "you have no idea how fucking sexy that was— fuck. Yeah, Honey, that was perfect."
Confident with his approval you reach for him and tentatively trace the prominent vein that travels up the underside of his cock. You suck your bottom lip in and trap it between your teeth, swiping your thumb over the pearlescent wetness at his tip.
His hips buck with a choked back moan and you smile proudly, gripping his length, slowly pumping him. His thighs tense, hips jumping off the mattress before he manages to hiss out, "you can grab me harder. And twist your wrist a little."
You nod, following his instruction as you twist your wrist and grasp him more firmly. He reveals the delicious length of his throat when his head falls back with a deep groan, "Just like that, Honey. Shit!"
You hum giddily, speeding up your movements before his hand clamps down around your wrist, halting your movement instantly. Your eyes widen, cheeks burning hot with the idea that you were doing something wrong. Johnny, as if he can read your thoughts, shakes his head with a hard swallow, "if you make me cum like this, I don't know if we'll get to the actual sex any time soon."
"Oh," you breathe out, relief and bashfulness flooding your veins and you release him from your grip and reach for the condom. You rip the foil between your teeth, listening to Johnny walk you through how to put the condom on, step by step.
With proper protection applied, you find a comfortable spot against the mattress, the same throw pillow from earlier beneath your hips as your heart thrums in your chest. You feel nervous, of course you do, Johnny is fucking hung, but you also feel so happy. Your face shows as much as you beam up at Johnny, puckering your lips to accept a chaste kiss before whispering, "I love you so much, Johnny."
His smile makes your heart skip a beat, "I love you too, Honey. You have my whole heart."
Johnny reaches for the lube you'd purchased weeks ago and spreads it over the condom thoroughly before taking the excess on his fingers and spreading it over your center. You gasp, hips bucking involuntarily which draws a look of concern from your boyfriend. "I'm still sensitive," you mumble sheepishly.
His hands press into the mattress on either side of your head, your legs already spread wide enough to accommodate the width of Johnny's body. "I'll take it slow," he reassures, one hand tracing down your thigh before gently lifting your leg and hooking it around his waist.
"Wait!" You suddenly exclaim, a hand on his bare chest with gentle pressure as you lift yourself onto your elbow.
"What's wrong? Did you change your mind? We can stop," Johnny immediately responds.
"No," you answer almost shyly, "I want to take my bra off. I don't want you to be more naked than me."
"That's not an issue for me," Johnny promises with a sweet quirk of his lips.
"I want to take it off," you assure, hands shakily reaching back to unclasp your plain bra. The darkened pupils in Johnny's eyes makes you feel hot, skin prickling with arousal as you lay back down, bare to his hungry, appreciative gaze. "I want to feel as close to you as possible, Love," you add quietly.
Johnny feels his heart grow 10 sizes at your comment. All he wants to do is hold you close and cover your face in kisses or adoration, but he knows there's other business to handle.
He presses his lips against your own and you lose yourself in the sensation. Soft lips moving in perfect unison like you've done a thousand times before. It's a kiss of reassurance, a promise that you're safe and loved here with him.
You barely notice the absence of his right hand beside your head. It's when there's the weight of him at your entrance and his breath fanning your face that you realize that this is actually happening.
"Breathe for me, Honeybee," Johnny instructs softly, waiting until he hears you exhale before he presses his tip into your entrance.
You tense, eyes clamping shut at the pressure of the intrusion. Your breathing becomes more rapid, your chest rising and falling in quick succession.
"Honeybee," Johnny croons, a gentle hand cupping your cheek, "you have to relax, pretty girl. We'll take this as slow as we need to, but it won't feel good if you can't relax."
You nod shakily, keeping your eyes shut as you force yourself to take deep, calming breaths. You focus on Johnny's warmth with every inhale, filling your stomach rather than your chest, and exhale while allowing yourself to be soothed by the gentle rub of his thumb against your cheek.
After what feels like forever for you, you open your eyes and nod, "I'm ready."
"It might hurt, you'll feel some pressure and stretching. Just remember to breathe, focus on me and not my dick that's hurting you," he says with a small smile, "remember, we can stop for any reason, alright?"
You nod, lifting your chin to press a kiss against his mouth, hooking you hand around his neck and nervously playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You keep your breathing calm, body relaxed as he sinks in another inch.
"You're so beautiful. Most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You have the most beautiful heart too. No one knows me like you do."
Another inch and a hitch in his breathing, "best woman I know. So smart and kind. You put up with all my shit and all my dumbass friends when you don't have to."
"Are you all the way in yet?" You ask breathily, voice soft and nearly shattering Johnny's resolve.
"Barely halfway Honeybee," Johnny chuckles, choking back a grunt before continuing his praise with another inch sunk into you tight heat, "you take care of me. Take care of everyone around you. You're so generous."
He gives a soft thrust, pushing himself in further, "you don't even know how crazy you drive me. Love when you send me those selfies of you in bed before going to sleep." Another push in, "those god damn sundresses you wear when it's hot."
A grunt and increased pressure as he's almost fully hilted inside you, "those tiny ass fucking shorts you go to bed and laze around in all the time."
His breath trembles and you whimper as he presses his body against yours, as close as they can be. "Just you, Honey. Fuck— everything about you," he rasps out as his hand flexes on your hip to stabilize himself. He stays frozen for a minute or two, eyes tightly shut as you accommodate o the feeling of him inside you. He has to breathe deeply, remind himself that this needs to be good for you, but damn it, the feeling of your slick walls clenching around him is going to make him finish faster than he wants to.
Your fingers tighten in his hair, a barely audible "move please" heard, and it's like something breaks in him. His constraint is gone, leaving behind a steady rhythm of his rolling hips and breathy curses whispered right into your ear.
You moan, your free arm wrapping around his shoulders, feeling your eyes roll back as pleasure begins to build, erasing any trace of pain you felt before. He shimmies his hips, finding a new angle that has your nails sinking into the muscles of his back with a wanton moan.
"Oh, Johnny," you whimper, body shaking with every snap of his hips, "I— feels so good."
"I know, Honey. Fuck, I know" he growls, his hands gripping your hips to keep your body still as he carves himself into your tight heat like a man possessed. The sound coming from your bodies is obscene, wet skin slapping and heavy panting that causes your window to become fogged up, obstructing the view of the storm outside.
"Can feel you so deep inside me," you keen drunkenly, feeling him rock up against your cervix with every push of his hips, "you're so fucking big."
He grunts, releasing your right hip from his grip while trailing his fingers over your abdomen before his palm settles just a few inches below your navel. Before you can even begin to question what he's doing, he presses the heel of his palm down, adding pressure to increase your pleasure.
You throw your head back with a high pitched moan, thighs tightening around his hips as your fingers helplessly trail down his back. The euphoria you were feeling before no longer comes in slow waves, the once soft, steadily building laps of pleasure now come like a tidal wave. You get pulled under, overwhelmed with pleasure and unable to catch your breath as Johnny maintains a maddeningly steady pace.
At least, that's what you think until his pace falters and becomes erratic. Curses fall freely from his lips, sweat trailing over his hairline, down his neck as he fights hard to send you over the edge before following you into the descent of ecstasy.
"I wanted this, wanted you so badly," you hiccup weakly, the sound mixed with a shattered moan. Your nails rake down his back, landing on his ass in the hopes that your grip there would keep him lodged inside you, keep you from going crazy, be an anchor in your downward spiral into pleasure unknown. It doesn't help. Instead, your orgasm finds you before you're ready, stronger than the previous one as it smashed through you. You toes curl, shoulders shake, trembling with a force you can't even dream of controlling.
Above you, it takes all of Johnny's willpower to keep the rocking of his hips even semi-steady with the vice grip around his length to allow you to succumb to your orgasm. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, a throaty groan sounding out as his own orgasm pulses through him, causing his muscles to tremble and his grip on your hips to tighten— no doubt leaving some finger-shaped bruises on your waist. He's dizzy, unable to control the ecstasy that leaves him feeling weak and powerless as his hips rut, slowing into weak grinds of his hips until he feels his release flood the latex.
He has just enough strength to stop himself from crushing you, but still he settles onto your sweat slick body. For a few minutes, your room is nearly silent save for the heavy rainfall against your window and you and Johnny trying to catch your breaths. His breath is hot against your neck, your fingers gentle as the trail over his back and through his dampened hair. He lets his eyes flutter closed for a few moments, lulled into peace by the sound of your heart and the feel of your body pressed against his own.
He sighs dreamily, propping himself up on his hands with a tired grumble you barely register as, "I'm gonna pull out now." You whimper at the sensitivity between your legs, pushing his hips away with a pout. He tsks with a weary smirk, a swift pat on your thigh before he disappears into the bathroom, reappearing moments later with his boxers on and a wet washcloth. He wipes you down carefully, his heart constricts at the sight of you so worn, relaxed, and messy because of him. "You feeling alright?" He asks with concern.
You hum softly, nodding your head. You let him pull a T-shirt over your head before you ask, "I know I don't have a lot to compare to, but that was amazing."
Johnny's heart skips a beat, kneeling on the bed to cup you cheeks in his hands. Adoration floods his veins at the sound of your giggles under the flurry of his kisses. He's breathless and smiling so hard his cheeks hurt, "it's never felt that good for me with anyone. You have a magic pu—"
You clamp a hand over his mouth with your eyes wide and cheeks burning with bashfulness, "John! We were having a cute moment!"
"I was going to say that you have a magic… puppy," he trails off, confused by his own word choice.
You roll your eyes and let out an amused huff, "Right. Because of that, you can put my sheets to wash while I shower."
"There goes shower sex," Johnny playfully grumbles, wordlessly holding a hand out to help you off the bed.
"There's no way we were having shower sex right now, John. God, your monster sized dick just tore apart my fucking insides, was that not enough?"
He cackles loudly, leaping off the bed to tug you back into his chest with your sheets tangled around his feet. He smacks a loud kiss to you cheek, "I love you my Honey. And seriously, thank you for trusting me with this."
You smile up at him brightly, making Johnny's heart skip a beat, "thanks for being so amazing. I love you, Johnny."
a/n pt2: if you're here and interested in the love island au, please vote here if you haven't yet! Don't forget to let me know how you liked the fic!
summary: he's busy, he's working, he doesn't have time for you... Johnny's many collegiate obligations catch up to him, leaving you scrambling and desperate to figure out how to win his attention and affections like you once had while wondering if you'll ever get your Johnny back
OR the My Man on Willpower fic
word count: 5.9k
warnings: pet names, relationship neglect, Johnny is a mega dick, angst but with a happy ending
a/n: is it weird to say that I had the time of my life writing this? Well, I did and I don't think I'm done being inspired by man's best friend either! mwahahahaha! Anyway! Any and all feedback will earn you a loving smooch from yours truly on the forehead <3
This story is a part of my fratboy!Johnny universe!
divider from iwonbin <3
There were a lot of things college had taught you so far. You learned how to study effectively, how to pick the best classes, and even how to date. And Johnny was great… at least that's what you naively believed when you first got together. Now, Johnny may have been your first boyfriend, but you knew him and your relationship well enough to know that things weren't normal. In fact, things were bad, not that your boyfriend even seemed to care or notice. But you did and you were past the point hoping things would go back to normal.
It had been weeks— weeks— since you last really spent time together. It had to have been at least a month since your last real date or since you even had a real conversation that was longer than five minutes. Dates now at the end of the spring semester seemed to have become quick exchanges of coffee and even faster kisses, more like pecks. Even when he spent the night, he wasn't fully present. He was always on his phone, always tired, physically present, but not mentally.
You sighed as you stared up at your ceiling, your room was dark and beside you, your boyfriend had passed out as soon as his head met your pillow. He was going to be up and out of here before you even woke up for early basketball practice.
The Johnny laying beside you now was almost an entirely different man from the guy who swept you off your feet and made you fall for him in the first place. Your Johnny now was so distant, busy, barely fit you into his busy schedule compared to the Johnny who had once gone to great lengths to woo you. You couldn't even remember the last time he randomly popped by to see you in between your tutoring sessions.
You know it wasn't entirely his fault, he was a busy guy. If it wasn't basketball, it was school, or the frat. His mornings started off with basketball practice and his nights ended with late studying. If he did have extra time, he was glued to his phone, answering countless messages from his frat brothers as they started planning for the coming school year. There was never a moment of peace, never time to just be together without the worries of other commitments.
Your fingers tightened anxiously around your sheets as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You didn't think you were needy or clingy. You had no issue going a day or two without texts exchanged because you got busy, but these days were made up for with mountains of affection and attention. Now, you were going weeks with crumbs, feeling grateful if he even looked up from his phone to meet your eyes for a second while you tried to make conversation.
You knew relationships couldn't be perfect all the time, but this wasn't even feeling like a relationship anymore. You didn't want to keep feeling like this. You rolled onto your side and stared at Johnny's handsome, sleeping face. If he was too busy, then you'd have to step up, step out of your comfort zone and channel your inner Johnny to save your relationship. You so badly want to save your relationship.
You started a few days later, making your way to the gym right as practice was let out. You'd listened to him complaining about his morning practice being too close to his 9 am lecture too many times for you to forget it. Just like you expected, there he was with his hair wet from a shower, backpack slung over one shoulder and gym bag over the other as he hustled with his head hung low to stare at his phone. Your breath caught it your throat just like it always did when you saw him.
You rushed to catch up to him, legs pumping quickly to catch up to his long stride, "hi, Love! I brought you coffee!"
Johnny freezes, looking up from his phone, though his fingers don't stop typing, "Bee, what are you— don't you have a class right now?"
"Class was cancelled so I decided to surprise you! Coffee and a pastry," you reply with a soft shrug, extending the cup and parchment paper bag in his direction.
He holds up a finger as if to say 'just a second' before he lifts his phone to his ear, "bro, you need to listen to me. You need to get your ass to the bank to get this issue cleared up. The fundraiser is in two weeks and our account is frozen because you forgot the fucking PIN. This is literally part of your job as treasurer!"
Your eyes widen as your boyfriend borderline yells into his phone. You've never seen him this upset, this stressed, or angry.
"No, this can't wait until tomorrow! We're already behind in planning for our booth—" Johnny stresses before stopping. His face falls, "what the hell do you mean the freezer broke? We have food in there for the booth! Jesus— fine, I'm on my way back to the house."
He hangs up, dragging his hand down his face with an exhale you assume is to calm himself down, "Bee, I have to go. I'll see you later, alright?"
He leaves you with a press of his lips on your temple, not even taking the coffee you'd bought for him as he practically runs away with a stressed hiss of, "I have class in 20, shit!"
You stand outside the gym, feeling a knot form in your throat at his casual dismissal as your arms fall to your sides. You shake your head, blinking away the stinging sensation in your eyes as you try to make sense of what just happened.
It was a poor coincidence. He had bigger issues to handle than sitting for coffee with you. A broken freezer sounded serious, so of course he had to handle that.
You closed your eyes and let out a long sigh, much like Johnny had. You just had to try again, stay hopeful and optimistic that next time, things would go your way.
A few days later, after a full day of studying for midterms, you decide you need a break. You scroll through your phone, mindlessly tapping through your go-to apps until you ultimately end up on your messages with your boyfriend. The messages that show the last three messages sent from you with no response and the last message from him from five days ago. Biting your bottom lip, you swipe into his location and find him at the frat house.
It's not too late and you know Johnny's schedule. Today, there's no practice, no labs, no classes to steal his attention. You remember clicking through Instagram stories and seeing that the guys didn't seem too busy. A spontaneous visit to the frat house had never been an issue before, so surely it wouldn't be today.
You start making your way over to the frat house before you can change your mind. The air is warm, sun setting in pink and golden hues which makes you feel a little hopeful that your efforts tonight won't be in vain.
You let yourself in, greeting the guys with a smile and a wave as you make your way up the stairs and down the hall to your boyfriend's room. You knock, receiving a grunt which you take as an invitation to enter.
"Hey, Love," you greet softly as you close they door behind you.
Johnny looks up from his textbook with his brows raised, "hey Bee, did I forget you were coming over?"
You crawl your way into his side and press a kiss to his cheek, "I finished studying for the evening and needed a break. I felt like seeing you."
He hums in agreement, "I get it, I've been studying for a few hours myself. I have a midterm tomorrow afternoon and I'm still rereading material from week two."
"You'll ace it, you always do, Love," you reply softly, kissing your way up his neck.
Your heart races in your chest, a mix of anxiety and optimism. You're not usually one to initiate any affection beyond a swift peck or hand holding. You love Johnny, more than anything, but you don't have the charisma he does. He's never turned you down before but you just feel shy trying to do something that makes you feel so out of character. He encourages your spontaneity and tells you that he loves when you surprise him with affection, but you can't help the way your heart kicks up with anxiety.
There's a flicker of excitement that ignites in your veins as a familiar sigh of relief is heard from Johnny. It makes all the anxiety melt away and allows a familiar warmth to spread throughout your body. He tilts his neck, giving you more access to his skin, even as his eyes are still glued to his textbook.
You take this as an opportunity to initiate more, he doesn't seem to find you too bothersome as your lips find his own. He sets his textbook aside, hands finding your waist as he pulls you onto his lap. His lips are slight chapped, though just as sweet as you remember as his tongue swipes against your lips to seek entrance.
You moan softly, allowing his tongue to prod into your mouth, licking against your own. His fingers tighten on your hips as your fingers tangle in his hair and tug. He groans against your mouth, lips hungry against your own. He couldn't possibly know how reassuring this is for you. He still wants you and you take full advantage of it. You kiss him hungrily, greedy to make up for all the time you've spent apart from each other.
He flips you onto your back and you whine, breaking the kiss with a hiss as your rub your back, "your book is hard." You push the book aside and cup your hand at the nape of his neck, arching up to kiss him again.
Johnny starts to apologize and blinks, a sudden clarity in his gaze, "My book… I was studying. I have to study right now. I just… I don't have time for this right now." He runs a hand through his hair as crawls off of you, "get home safe, okay? I'll call you."
He grabs his book and makes his way to his desk without a second glance in your direction where you still lay on his bed with glossy, swollen lips and out of breath. Your heart falls right into your stomach. You feel like an old toy cast aside and forgotten. You clear your throat, forcing down the thickness in your throat as you stand and straighten out your clothes, "alright… good luck on your test."
"Thanks," he mumbles, scribbling down some notes as you let yourself out of his room.
You find yourself lost in your head as you leave the house, your mind a whirlwind of anxious thoughts fighting to take root. You force those thoughts away and instead force yourself to look on the more reasonable side of things. He's just busy, he's just studying, and the frat just gets more of his attention because of the fundraiser coming up this weekend. You breathe out and wipe away a stray tear as you remind yourself that he loves you and he still wants to be with you.
Your last attempt comes after his first play-off game. The gym is filled with an electricity of excitement. The stands are filled with fans, all on the edge of their seats to see if the team will be able to secure a win. The team is just two points down, having played hard for four whole quarters, each player tired and nearly worn to the bone. There's a hunger to win, a need to prove that all the hours of extra practice weren't for nothing.
Johnny charges across the court with the ball in his possession, expertly evading the opposing players. His hands arc up at the curve of the three point line as the seconds dwindle down. The stadium goes silent, everyone holding their breath as the ball floats through the air, hits the hoop, and circles the rim, once, then twice. On it's third rotation the ball slips into the net with a satisfying swish just as time runs out, sending one half of the stadium into an excited frenzy.
Fans flood the court as the team cheers and celebrates making it to the next round of play-offs. You smile at the sight of Johnny cheering with his teammates. He's worked so hard to perfect his game, putting in so much effort at practice, the team deserves this win.
And as much as you'd love to stay an celebrate, you have a surprise for Johnny. A well-earned treat for all his hard work and playing a perfect game. He'd already told you that he was going to spend the night with you whether he won or lost, so you know your last ditch effort to save your dying relationship can still go according to plan.
As soon as you get back home, you're quick to style your hair, turn on the lamps in your room, and light every candle. Tonight has to be perfect. If it's not, you'll know what you've been dreading all along— that Johnny doesn't want you anymore.
You stare at your reflection in the mirror nervous and critical. You don't look like yourself, but you suppose that's the point. The silk camisole that covers your top half feels revealing even with most of your skin covered. The thin material does little to make you feel comfortable or confident like you'd hoped it would. You turn, letting out a judgemental hum at the sight of the tiny lace-trimmed shorts that barely cover your ass. The gloss thickly layered on your lips, shines in the low, warm light if your bedroom before you crouch down and grip at the roots of your hair with a groan of frustration, "what am I even doing?!"
You don't look like yourself, hell, you don't even feel like yourself. You don't wear lingerie! You've never felt the need and Johnny has never made you feel anything less than desirable even in your usual cotton under garments or pajamas.
Is this who you are now, a girl who uses sex to win back the affections of her boyfriend who has clearly lost interest? And it's not like you're against sex either, to each their own, everyone's bedroom life is their own business, but you never thought this would be you. You guess love makes you do crazy things and if this is what you have to do to keep Johnny, then so be it. You love him.
You hear the front door open and sprint over to your bed, situating yourself on your covers with your legs extended as you arch your back and tilt your neck in a manner you hope is sexy.
Johnny enters with a tired yawn, tossing his bags aside as he begins recounting how his coach made them all stay back to review footage that was shaky and unfocused. He'll have a team meeting in the morning to review better footage, early as usual. You hum along, barely hearing him over the pounding of your own heart in your ears as he undresses himself down to his boxers.
He hasn't even looked at you, hasn't noted the sweet scent of your special occasion perfume, or the candles that create sensual lighting in your room. He plops onto your bed with another yawn, tossing the covers open as he lays down. He finally looks at you, eyelids low and eyes red, "I'm pooped. G'night, Bee."
You blink, watching as your boyfriend succumbs to his slumber, falling asleep faster than you've ever seen before. He didn't even notice everything you did— scratch that, he didn't even notice a single thing you did. Your pajamas hardly drew his attention, hell, they didn't even make him blink.
This was the end. You've tried everything you could possibly think of and nothing worked. It's done and he doesn't even have to tell you because he's shown you. He's been showing you for weeks and you've just been too stubborn and stupid to accept the reality of the situation.
You slide off your bed and blow out each candle, turning off all the lamps, and slip into the bathroom to wipe away all your makeup before you let yourself break down. You hold your head in your hands, feeling beyond stupid for trying as hard as you did. You've made a total fool of yourself time and time again, making an effort when he didn't reciprocate even once in the last few months of your relationship.
You change out of your silk pajamas and angrily throw them in the depths of you closet in favor of your usual t-shirt and shorts. You hope you never have to see those pajamas again or relive any of the humiliation that came along with wearing them. Johnny sleeps soundly, none the wiser as you take you pillow and pad out of your room in favor of sleeping on your couch.
You cry yourself to sleep that night, tears soaking into your pillow as you experience your first heartbreak. You don't think love is even worth it if this is what the pain of losing it feels like.
You decide that you'll just slip out of his life quietly. You won't make a scene, you won't make a fuss. You don't make it anyone else's problem but your own because well, hasn't everything regarding this relationship for the last— who knows how long— been your problem anyway? You'll just take yourself off his plate so he has one less responsibility to deal with. He can go back to school, the frat, and basketball without having to juggle you too. He did it to you, so you'll just do it to him. Seems fair enough, albeit a little petty. Isn't all fair with a broken heart?
You spend weeks slipping and dodging potential meetings. You leave the library later, linger in your classes a little longer and even take the long way home. You know he won't be looking for you. He hadn't made time for you in over a month and you don't imagine he will now.
You don't answer his texts, which you figure is fine. He's not texting you about anything dire anyway. They're lighthearted texts that he's probably sending his brothers too. It's easy to forgo your usual routine of good morning texts and updates when you merely take a scroll and see all the texts you've sent that have already gone ignored by Johnny. A few had received a heart or even a thumbs up but very rarely is there an actual response. The responses are nothing more than a "I'll be by around 8" or a "sounds good." It may be seen as self-torture to constantly read and reread your text thread, but you need the reminder so you don't fall into old habits.
You purposely skip the frat fundraiser. You know it's a big thing, Johnny had told you and you'd assumed as much. Every time you went by the house in the last few months, it was all any of the guys could talk about. It was a whole Greek life fundraiser weekend where every house had some sort of booth to bring in extra funds for potential pledges and their families. Nu Chi Tau would be barbecuing, some of the sororities were doing custom key chains or sweaters, other fraternities were having games. It was something that had sounded fun at first, spending time with your boyfriend and all his friends— your friends with good food and good times. This was probably the easiest to waive. You weren't a big fan of crowded areas or loud volume, mostly you put up with it for Johnny. Not anymore.
You decide not to go to his basketball games either. You're not his girlfriend anymore and you were never a fan of basketball before him so it's not out of the ordinary. You were never particularly fond of the whole ordeal anyway. Just like the frat events, it was always loud, expensive, crowded, and confusing. You get updates from people gossiping around campus. You know that the team has been doing well because you hear people watching the highlights or discussing big moments. You always know when there's a game on campus too. The campus is more quiet than usual as you leave the library but you can always hear the distant cheers from the gym. A part of you wishes this was totally avoidable, but basketball, Johnny in general, will never be. Johnny is an enigma and whether you like it or not, he can't be forgotten.
You'd like to say you're happy that the break up is going so smoothly. You slip out of Johnny's life with an ease you'd never imagined. Somehow that makes it hurt more than you anticipated. It feels like you've cried yourself to sleep every night and his life hasn't seemed to change in the slightest.
So much so that it takes a loss in the quarter finals, the end of midterms, and a total of 16 days for you to even see Johnny in person again. Not that you had planned it. He pops in at the end of one of your tutoring sessions with a huge smile and a bouquet, "flowers for my honeybee!"
You force your eyes away from him as you clean up your stuff, "no, thank you."
The person you were tutoring lets out a peep at the tense atmosphere and scurries out of the study room quickly. Johnny's smile falters at your reaction, but he continues, joking in the hopes of lifting the mood, "did you develop some kind of allergy?"
You sling your bag over your shoulder and shrug, "I don't think it's appropriate between us anymore."
Johnny watches as you make your way to the elevator with his face drawn in broken confusion. Not appropriate? What do you even mean by that? In what way would it be inappropriate for a boyfriend to bring his girlfriend flowers? It's not like it would be the first time he brought you flowers anyway.
By the tine his brain flicks back on, the elevator doors have already closed. He's running down the stairs to catch up with you just as you push through the doors of the library. "Honey, wait! Can we talk?" He asks breathlessly, legs burning from his sprint down far too many flights of stairs and across the first floor.
You keep walking, barely turning your head as you reply, "I don't think it's appropriate for you to call me that anymore either. Please, just keep this like we've been doing so it stays easy. On the both of us."
"Can you stop walk-" Johnny begs, finding that you're walking faster than he's ever seen before, "make what easy?"
You stop, turning in your heel which makes Johnny stumble in his stride to keep up with you. Your voice is steady even as heartbreak begs to make itself known, "this, John. Our breakup. We're done and you made that crystal clear, now leave me to heal."
Johnny feels his heart plummet right to his ass as your words register in his brain, "b-break up? No! No, we didn't!"
Your eyes instinctively flit to the people who are nearby, watching campus heart-throb, Johnny Suh, chase after the shy, history nerd. God— it makes you want the ground to open up and swallow you whole! Why is he drawing so much attention to you?! Now, he wants to give you the time of day?! "Stop chasing me!" You hiss, keeping your head down as you try to get away from everyone's judgment stares.
"We have to talk about this!" Johnny cries out, using his height advantage to stop in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.
His heart breaks at the sight of the tears lining your eyes, "You don't have the time to talk and I don't even want to! I can't do this! I don't want to do this right now and now you're making everyone look at me. Just… leave me alone and stop acting like you suddenly care again."
The back of your hand wipes away a tear as you continue walking, leaving Johnny standing in the middle of campus with a broken heart and a bitter taste creeping up his throat. The plastic of the bouquet he's still clutching crinkles as his grip tightens and he clears his throat. He smiles sadly at somebody walking past him before forcing his feet to move.
As much as he wants to chase after you, he knows you need space. As much as every step away from you physically pains him, he doesn't want to be the guy who forces you to listen to him make himself sound better. He needs to show you he's better not just tell you he is.
He pushes the door to the frat house open, barely looking up from his feet on his way up the stairs. Mark pushes his door open at the same time Johnny comes to the top of the stairs looking downtrodden and frankly… broken. Mark looks at the flowers and asks with no ill intention, "hey bro, was Bee not working? She sick?"
Johnny stares distantly at the floor beneath him, "she was there but… we— we're not together?"
Mark's eyes widen in shock, "since when?!"
"I don't even know," Johnny replies with a weak shrug, trying not to break down into a sad puddle of tears and flowers.
Mark nods slowly, not sure how to react, "I guess that would explain why she stopped coming around."
Johnny's heart breaks clean in half as his head snaps up, tears in his eyes, "she did?"
"Bro, we haven't seen her around here or anywhere for over a month," Mark adds, suddenly feeling protective of you because your own boyfriend hadn't even paid attention your absence, "you didn't notice?"
Johnny feels his heartbeat start to speed up and his palms start to sweat, "I-I— no. I was so busy with play-offs, practice, midterms, and the frat. God, I'm such a piece of shit!"
Mark grimaces, not sure if he should stay here and handle Johnny's break down or if he should be heading to class. You don't give him much of a chance, not as you come stomping up the stairs with fire burning fiercely in your eyes and more amped up than Mark has ever seen you.
You'd made it half way home when the sadness turned into anger. Who did Johnny even think he was to just waltz up to you and act like everything was normal? To force you to listen to you bed? Before you even had a chance to fully process your burst of emotion, you found yourself barging into the frat house in the hopes of getting all your emotions off your chest.
You falter at the sight of Johnny at the top of the stairs, but you swallow back your hesitance, "I need to talk and I need you to listen."
Johnny nearly chokes as he hears you, but he's quick to open the door to his bedroom and let you enter. You bite your lip as you begin to pace and convince yourself not to give up. You've already made it here, you owe it to yourself to speak your mind, don't you?
The door shuts behind you both and you begin speaking before you even turn around, not giving yourself a second to fall for his stupid handsome face and sad eyes, "in the course of the last two months of our relationship I have felt the most undesirable and stupid that I have ever felt in my entire life. While I understand that you had priorities, the very least you could do was communicate that with me. Do I understand that your commitments will sometimes come before me? Of course, I do, but you didn't even say that. You used me when it was convenient for you and didn't care in the slightest about how your actions or rather, lack of actions, affected me."
"The boyfriend I had in the last month or so of our relationship was a guy I didn't recognize in the slightest. You didn't act like a boyfriend and you didn't even act like my friend! I tried to kiss you, I tried to ease your stress, I tried to do nice things for you and even went out of my comfort zone to seduce you a-a-and you made me feel like some kind of animal with fleas! I could hardly get you to even look at me or text me back and when we spent more than even 15 minutes together it was because you were using me for my bed! I'm not a hotel! I was your girlfriend!" You snap, finding your groove as you let out everything you've been holding in for weeks.
"If that was the real you then I don't want him! If the real version of you is the version who makes no time at all for a relationship that you initiated then we're done! I can't keep chasing you and putting my time and effort into a relationship where I'm made to look like a total fool time and time again. And for what? You made it quite clear that you don't want me so I acted on that."
"I want to be your boyfriend!" Johnny speaks up, voice thick with emotion as he processes all your words and just how horrible he made you feel.
You scoff and laugh bitterly, "you hardly noticed the distance between us. How long did it even take you to notice my absence, John?"
He blinks. It had taken him a long time, too long. "I know it took me a while but that doesn't mean that I don't love you. That I won't fight for our relationship and for you. You mean everything to me and I… can't lose you."
"Your words and your actions are completely contradictory. You can't ignore me and pop back into my life at your convenience. A relationship is a two way street wherein both parties make an effort, not just one of them. That's not fair at all and I'm not going to put my life on hold for my boyfriend to decide when he's ready to bless me with his attention. You may have been my first relationship, but I know that I'm not supposed to be helplessly waiting around to wait for your attention. I deserve more and I owe myself more than that."
"Honey, you deserve the world," Johnny's voice cracks as he steps closer to you, a sob choking him as he steps toward you, "I was horrible and I know that, but I'm not ready to give you up. I'm going to be better, I'm going to make time for you. I'll quit basketball and I'll leave the frat and drop some of my classes. Honey— I love you. I love you more than I've loved anyone and I would go to the ends of the earth to make you happy. I know I haven't shown you that and that I've been the worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, but you know that's not me."
"You can't do that," you argue with pinched brows, "if you leave the frat then you'll have no place to live. If you quit basketball then you'll lose your scholarship. You're thinking irrationally, John. People break up all the time. You love, you learn and you move on. It's time for us to move on. I want to move on and I need you to let me do that."
"You're not people to me! I love you! I would leave everything for you and do anything for you," Johnny exclaims, cupping your face as your bottom lip begins to tremble.
You let out a shuddered exhale, "you didn't make me feel that way."
He swipes one of your tears away with his thumb, disregarding his own tears streaming down his cheeks, "I was awful, Honey, I know that. I got so hung up on everything that was happening, my head was a mess and my time management was even worse. Please trust and believe me when I tell you that I won't do the same thing again. I know I hurt you and I will never do that again. I promise on my mother's life."
You let out a thick laugh, "you can't swear on her life."
"I already did, Honey. I can't tell you how much more I mean it, but I can show you. Will you let me?"
"I don't want my heart to get broken again. If you're gonna break my heart or just forget about me again. I can't do that again."
He presses his lips to your forehead, feeling his heart skip a beat as you melt into his chest. You fit perfectly against him like you're meant to be there and his heart aches all over again for the fact that he even for a second let you believe he didn't want you. It hurts his heart even more that you were just going to let him walk out of your life like you meant nothing to him, but that's for him to work out. He rubs your cheek with his thumb, his gaze warm and loving, "it will never happen again. I swear on everything in the entire universe that holds any meaning to anyone."
"One more chance, Johnny," you whisper.
"It's the last and only chance I'll ever ask of you, Honeybee," he smiles, feeling a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. He hadn't even realized how hard it had been to breathe without you. In neglecting your relationship, he'd also been neglecting himself. These past few weeks had put him though the wringer.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders to bring you in for an embrace. He lets out a shuddering breath, a weight off his chest, even though the guilt of what he'd done to you sits heavy in his heart. He knows he can fix this, he doesn't have another choice, because just a few minutes of knowing he lost you felt like his heart had been ripped right out of his chest. He would never let that happen again, ever.
He sniffles, a gentle hand running over your back in small circles, "I love you, Honey. I love you so much it's overwhelming sometimes, and I hate that I ever made you doubt that. I'm going to spend every day of the rest of my life making this up to you."
You sigh, nuzzling into his chest, "it won't take the rest of your life, John. Just remind me how much you love me, show me how much you mean what you said."
He presses his lips to the crown of your head, "I promise, Honey, I promise…"
I think frat!johnny has secretly paid for one of those etsy witches so they can do readings on his love life and confirm that you are, indeed, also into him.
He is not paying them for love potions and stuff, ‘cause that feels icky and he’s not too sure how the concept of consent works with that kind of thing. HOWEVER, he did pay an extra fee so he could get a sign that confirmed your feelings.
He’s waiting excitedly for the first couple of days, getting a bit nervous around the fourth day in, and feeling like he should give up by the time it’s been a week. Maybe he was scammed out of 25 quid, maybe you really don’t want more than sex with him.
Sadness lasts about an hour. Because when he gets to your usual table, seeing that you’re already waiting with your own usual order and his usual, he pretty much makes the rest of the way skipping.
Honestly, you had asked him for a date because you had noticed he seemed a bit off, shoulders a bit slump in a way you’d never seen from him. Seems like it fully resolved on its own, though, given the fat kiss he plants on your forehead before sitting across from you. Now you have to deal with a Johnny that is more hyper and clingy than usual, and have no idea as to why.
Was there really a sign or did you just get him a croissant because the coffee shop had a 2x1 offer and you were meeting him anyway? WHO CARES. He’s giving the witch a 5 star review and sending in a new request a few days later.
I don’t know how i got here, but I've been thinking about Frat!Johnny who is known for being a man-whore, who always finds one (or multiple) pretty things in a party to follow home. He’s the life of the party, incredibly friendly and charming, charismatic in a way that lets him become friends (and get himself in bed) with anyone he chats with.
The same Johnny that spots you at a party, that easily guesses your drink of choice and your major, that chats with you for who-knows-how-long and casually offers —at the perfect time for it, too, when the alcohol has you right in that giggly and carefree state and his light touches have made all your blood rush from your head to between your legs— for you to spend the night in his room, so «you don’t have to worry about going all the way across the campus back to your dorm, bonnie».
You know about his reputation, with how many people he has slept before, how he’ll simply move on from it the next morning and find someone else in the next party. And frankly, you don’t really mind it, because you’ve also heard the rumour of how good he is at what he does, and you’re pretty sure you’re winning much more than you’re losing by the time he has you pressed against his locked door, his lips trailing from your jaw down your collarbone while his hands work on getting the both of you naked.
It’s easy to lose count of the amount of times he’s made you come, how many rounds you’ve been able to get out of the other, but when you wake up with that light soreness and his heavy arm loosely wrapped around your waist you can’t help but confirm that every rumour had been true.
It all goes quite naturally, no sense of shame or rush when you both roll out of bed, you shower while he fetches some breakfast, already in a perfectly convenient to-go cup. You’re halfway dressed by the time he gets back, and you both settle in one last -pretty damn good- kiss before you’re heading out of the frat house and he’s hopping in the shower.
Johnny goes back to his usual routine, the same one he’s had since he joined the fraternity, he nurses the light hangover he has and focuses on spending the rest of the day on his classes and with his brothers. He’s done this so many times before, that his day goes on without any hitch, nothing to worry about until whatever comes first, the next party or the deadline.
Except he spots you in one of his elective classes and his eyes linger on your for longer than he’d like to admit, a little too excited to wave at you when you finally meet his gaze, and even more disappointed when you just give a light wave in return before going back to the conversation you were having with your friend.
It makes him feel like everything has come to an screeching halt, because that had never happened before. He has never looked for someone he has already slept with, and he doesn’t understand why his eyes always seem to move around crowded halls and busy coffee shops in search of you. Still, he pushes through, he’ll get over it. He shrugs it off, focuses on the few projects that have a close deadline and forgets about it with the excitement of getting the frat house ready for a new party.
Only issue is that when he sees you mingle through the crowd, he completely forgets about what he was about to say to Kyle, mouth hanging halfway open as the words quickly die down. “Found your new purchase?” his eyes flicker from you to Kyle’s knowing grin.
Much to his disappointment he has to give a shake of his head. “Nah, jus’ last week’s,” he tries to make it sound casual, even adding a light shrug. But he can see the way Kyle’s brows lift in a mix of surprise and amusement as he realises that he’s really witnessing the Johnny Mactavish regret his own rule of never sleeping with a party-hookup more than once.
“You’re screwed mate,” he feels Kyle’s hand clap on his shoulder, both of them watching as you entertain the random guy that leans closer to chat with you.
My masterlist
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Frat johnny begging for some form of friction from you or even sex and you give him the laziest handjob ever but he cums within 2 minutes because your annoyed face turned him on too much and your little huffs and degrading terms made him lose itttttt
Look, you love frat!johnny to absolute pieces, okay? He’s a great lad, even better lay. He’s genuinely fun to be around, such a good listener and pays amazing attention to detail. You two are not officially together in the sense that neither of you has used titles, but you’ve both been exclusive since the second time you slept together.
All of that is to say, that as much as you’d both live and die for him, there’s moments when you’re just trying to focus on something that isn’t him. And he takes it personally, every time.
Like right now. You’re not even sure why you said yes when he asked if he could drop by your dorm, your warning of needing to study for your upcoming midterm clearly falling on deaf ears. As soon as he walked in, he started to talk about whatever came up to mind, hovering around your desk and fidgeting with all your stuff.
Dumb of you to think a stern warning would work, too. Because as soon as the chastising words leave you, tone dry and firm, a tent forms on his sweats. His wide, glassy eyes make a deep sigh leave you, the light tilt of his head making him the clear picture of a begging puppy.
“I can’t stand you right now,” your hands rub over your face as the grumble leaves you, still there’s no need for you to see him to know that the groan that leaves him is purely out of pleasure. “You’re messed up,” you accuse when your hands drop back to your lap, holding his pleading gaze for a little longer before begrudgingly pointing to the bed.
That’s what lead to you being like this. Sat on the bed, notes sprawled over your lap as you read and revise through them with one hand, the other loosely wrapped around his cock. It’s a little pathetic, how hard he already is, and how much harder he has gotten since you’ve stopped paying him any mind. That’s what turns him on the most. His head is thrown back against the headboard, eyes tightly closed and hands holding onto the bedsheets for dear life.
Your hand is barely even moving, just lazily dragging up and down the shaft, no attention being paid to the pressure you use, much less to his whipping tip. It’s just a slow yet constant back and forth, one that causes light huffs and sighs to leave you in complaint whenever you have to use your non-dominant hand to flip through your notes.
“B-bonnie…” it’s a whimper, one that makes him sound so much more wrecked that he should be given how little effort it’s taking. You don’t really answer, just give him the side eye, a mean look that substitutes any words needed to make clear how much he’s bothering you. It just makes him moan louder.
You’ve barely made it through a couple pages before his hips start twitching, his breathing quickening and his whimpers only getting louder. He’s spilled so much precum in the few minutes you’ve been in this position that his cock easily glides through your hand now. You can’t help the light chuckle that leaves you, finally turning to look at him. “Seriously? Already?”
There’s something in the mocking tone, in the way you have refused to acknowledge him until this point. The fact that you’ve only looked at him at his weakest. The mix of shame and pure pleasure that your words cause has his hips speeding up, properly fucking into your closed fist now, his eyes closing tightly again. Mostly to avoid letting them roll into the back of his skull.
You click your tongue then, “look at me.”
His eyes snap open, glassy gaze meeting yours, his lips —red and swollen from bitting down on them, from trying to hold back at least a little bit of how much this is wrecking him— mouthing around words that never come out. Instead there’s just shaky gasps and whiny moans.
“There we go,” he could swear his brain almost turns off at the mix of your condescending tone and praising words. “I’ve got a mid term to study for, sweetheart. Gonna cum for me?”
The way you ask, as if it were a chore on your list, something you have to get through to finish your responsibilities for the day, does it. His eyes almost close, but quickly widen to stay open when you give his base a warning squeeze. His jaw goes slack, no shame in the way he moans and groans while his hips piston into your hold. It barely takes him a couple more thrusts before he’s letting out the whiniest moan of your name you’ve ever heard anyone produce.
Strips of white land on your hand and his abs, even managing to slightly soil the bunched up hem of his shirt. He just gives a few more residual bucks, but less than a minute later he’s slumping into the bed, eyes tightly closed as he tries to recover his breath.
His ears are still ringing when he feels you lightly tap on his cheek, teary eyes cracking open to see you hold your hand up. In an instant he’s leaning forward, licking himself off your skin before melting back into the sheets. He pointedly ignores the half-chub that has started to form again due your wordless order. Feeling to wrecked to think about another round, he settles for sluggishly reaching down to tuck himself back into his sweats.
You finally look at him, eyes much softer than they had been until now. He goes right along when you reach over to pull him closer, more than happy to rest his head on your lap and wrap his arms around your waist. “Nap for a bit while i finish this,” your offer has him humming in agreement, body relaxing further as one of your hands begins to play with his hair. “I’m sure you’ll have to recover from those strenuous three minutes.”
The teasing words only earn you a muffled groan against your stomach and a squeeze to your hip. He’s for sure going to remember that an use it against you some other time, but for now he’s happy to snuggle up to you while he processes all the new things he’s learned about himself in those few minutes.
Likes, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated. Askbox is open. Do not copy, repost, plagiarize, translate or feed any of my work into ai.
Heads up, 18+ MDNI: bodily fluids (spit) and light choking (just a mention of holding by the throat).
For how much the lads love teasing frat!Johnny about how down bad he is for you, they have to admit it's cute. Cute and definitely handy. In situations like right now, it was more about the latter.
John had been the one to reach out, calling you to say that no one in the fraternity knew what was happening with Johnny, but he'd been in a terrible mood all day. He'd been short with everyone, skipped group activities and refused to have any dinner.
Which is how you end up getting a hoodie and your keys, making your way to the fraternity at almost midnight.
Simon is the one to open the door, his brows raising in amusement at the contrast between your serious expression and soft-looking pajamas. He gives you a quick greeting, clarifying that your objective has been locked in his room all night before happily standing to the side to let you through.
You march right on over, giving a few cordial nods and waves to the lads you do recognise, taking the stairs two at a time and going through the familiar path following the hallway to the left.
It takes knocking three times before the door opens, a damp-haired and headphone-wearing Johnny opens then. His expression is probably the most serious you've ever seen him before, a murmur of "oh, it's ye" leaving him before he's heading back to his desk. At least he has the decency —although you probably could call it audacity— to leave the door open so you can come in.
"Could we have a chat?" It only gets a shrug from him, headset being pulled back on while he gestures in the desk's general direction as if to say he's too busy for it.
"What are you doing?" You keep your tone soft, wanting to give him some grace for his likely shitty day, arms crossing over you chest after closing the door behind you, slowly stepping closer. However all it earns you is a shrug, another noncomital gesture to his laptop, followed by a muttered "stuff".
"Seriously?" a light huff leaves you as your hip comes to rest with the edge of his desk, your eyes quickly scanning the screen on his laptop. He really is shameless enough to be looking for music while you're right there. "Johnny, I want to talk to you."
"An' ye can. Am usin' my ears for it, nae my eyes."
You stare at him for a moment, completly baffled, never having heard him backtalk you before. Then you're moving, pushing the stupid headphones away and gripping his messy mohawk, pulling on it to tilt his head back. "Well, i expect you to use both when i'm trying to have a conversation with you."
He goes to complain, to throw out another sassy retort, but your fingers tighten a bit and pull his head a little further back. It has his breath shaking and his brain seems to blue screen when you hold him like that and move to lean over him.
"Are you going to listen to me now?" He's nodding, or doing the closest he can given his situation, almost immediately. His heart is speeding in his chest, pupils dilating and eyes going glassy as whatever attitude he had melts away. "Let's see how good you do then, open your mouth."
His jaw drops immediately, breathing only getting shakier as fidgety hands move to hold onto your hips, his thighs easily moving further apart so you can stand between them. You hum lightly in approval, and gathering some spit in your mouth you lean over him.
The slick glob slips past your lips and into his mouth, a thin tendril connecting from your tongue to his. You stare into his eyes for a few seconds, although if someone had asked Johnny he'd probably would have said it lasted hours. Finally you give a light nod, giving his hair another light tug and finally concede, "swallow."
As soon as the word leaves you, he's doing it, mouth closed only long enough to get it down before he's eagerly waiting again.
"Nuh-uh, not that easy. Are you going to have a conversation with me now?" Despite the whimper of disappointment that leaves him at being denied, he nods his head, having the decency to close his mouth instead of drooling like an over-eager puppy.
You hum in approval, and his eyes flutter closed for a moment when he feels the blunt edge of your nails gingerly scratch at his scalp as a form of praise. "Use your big boy words then, what's the attitude for?"
It takes him a minute, body overheated and sluggish brain too focused on the feeling of your saliva spilling from your lips to his tongue. When you grip his hair again, giving his head a light shake, he finally gathers himself enough to answer. "Am sorry bonnie. Had a shite day, but it was nae yer fault."
That gets him another head scratch in reward, making a needy little sound leave the back of his throat. His adam's apple bobs as he swallows, glassy eyes searching over your face to see how good he's doing.
"Do you think you could tell me why your day is so bad instead of being sarcastic about it?" He's nodding before you're done speaking, and despite knowing it's a risky move, his hands are holding onto your waist and your thighs. Touching as much as he can as he pulls you closer, until your fronts are pressed together and his chin is leaning on your chest.
Despite the warning you give by wrapping your free hand around his throat, he keeps holding you that close. "Prof said i did nae pass the plagiarism test, but i would nae do tha'. Been trying tae fix tha' all day."
You make a soft sound of acknowledgment this time, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead before looking down at him like you had been until now. "Right. Here's what we're going to do. You're going to listen to me and let me take care of you so we can get all this tension out, and after that we fix the plagiarism issue. How's that sound?"
Just like before, he's agreeing long before you've even said what the plan is, giving a light squeeze to your thighs and just clinging onto any part of you he can reach.
"Mhm, good. Now open your mouth for me." A chuckle leaves you at how quick his jaw gives, baby blues begging through a haze of tears while he just waits for your next order. "Atta boy."
a/n: I have a different version in the proverbial slow cooker, however because this idea won't leave me alone, i've decided to share what it started as instead.
Likes, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated. Askbox is open. Do not copy, repost, plagiarize, translate or feed any of my work into ai.
