My girl
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
pairing is johnny davis x f!reader
in which you've felt johnny drifting away from you for weeks. for once, you accept playing pool with one of the newbies at the bar. a little fun has never hurt anyone. the thing is, johnny doesn't seem to enjoy it as much as you do.
word count: 2,8k
warnings: angst, strained relationship, drinking, slight violence, comfort and smut (happy ever after, y'know?)
The familiar hum of chatter filled your ears as you leaned against a wall, nursing your drink. The bikeriders’ meeting place was packed that night, and you had lost count of how many men had brushed up against you to get your attention. At least those who knew you were Johnny’s girl wouldn’t try anything, so you were a bit safe.
You weren’t particularly close to that world, where men drank until they passed out and violence had its own rules. You’d have rather gone out to the movies with friends or stayed home watching TV. You didn’t belong here.
At the start of your relationship with Johnny–when everything was easy and pretty–you had been worried about having different interests. But it wasn’t bad, was it? It made the conversations at home more lively. Johnny would tell you about his day at work while you cooked something, and he would listen to your blabbering as you sat on the couch. It had become the routine. At least, when he talked to you.
With your pop in hand, you tried to catch his gaze. It felt like you had taken a huge step backward in your relationship. Now, Johnny was too tired to ask about your day. He barely looked at you. And the main reason was the very sight in front of you.
The club.
Johnny was drifting further away from you every day, and there was nothing you could do besides trying to hold his hand a little longer when you could. There was this superpower force pushing him away from you, no matter how hard you pulled. Every day, the same questions made you uneasy. Had we moved in together too fast? Shouldn’t he have proposed by then? Is there someone else in his life? It wasn’t like you could tell him to leave the club aside for some time. This whole thing was his life.
Your second anniversary was in two days, and you weren’t even sure he’d remember.
Without warning, warmth brushed your side. One of the new guys–blond buzzcut and cute smile–was towering above you. It would have been intimidating had he not been leaving a step or two between you both. Clever one, you thought.
“Wanna try to beat me?” he asked you, and by the time you had registered his question, looking like an idiot, he had already repeated himself.
“Oh, um,” your gaze narrowed to the pool table, clearing your throat as it started to burn. “Why not. Yeah.”
You usually weren’t the kind to mingle with the men, but this time you really needed to be distracted from everything. Before the guilt pounding behind your breastbone became unbearable, you followed the guy to the pool table, where a few men were already gathered.
Discomfort nipped at your edges as you stood there, tightening your grip over your drink. You greeted those you hadn’t seen quickly, not knowing what to do.
“Charlie,” the blond guy introduced himself, shouting in your ear.
You gave him your name back, finally making a move to set your drink down on a table nearby.
“What do I get if I win?” Charlie asked, handing you a cue.
You chuckled, and suddenly your chest started feeling a bit lighter. When was the last time you had fun?
“What d’you want?” you replied with a quick shrug, breaking eye contact when you realized how flirty this sounded.
“A kiss,” Charlie didn’t hesitate. “On the cheek, if you’d rather.”
“Right. I’m Johnny’s girl.”
With a raise of his eyebrows, Charlie invited you to start. You doubted he would give it a response or care, so you moved to the end of the table and inhaled sharply as you bent to take your first shot.
“Ya won’t hit it from that angle,” he interrupted, pointing at the cue ball. “Ya need to move over there, see?"
“Is is obvious that I’ve only played once before?” you straightened, beaming at his burst of laughter. "I’m so bad at this."
“Nah. You’re okay,” Charlie rounded the table to stand beside you. Close. “Want me to start instead?”
Perhaps it was universe, or something linked to that superpower you often thought of. That thing beckoned you to glance over the tables against the wall. Johnny was watching you, his glass frozen against his lips.
You imagined running your hands through his hair and feeling his muscles flexing under your touch. Asking him for things you had never had the guts to ask before. Bend you over the pool table.
For a moment, you wondered if he could read your mind. You averted your gaze, reminding yourself of how distant he was. Even sex couldn’t fix things up.
You heard a low whistle as the white ball hit the grouped balls with a sharp stroke. The men’s loud chatter brought you back to reality, in which Charlie was waiting for you to shoot.
“Woah,” you forced a smile, although you hadn’t seen anything. “Bet I can do better.”
“Yeah?” Charlie grinned back, looking at you like he could eat you on the spot. "I can help if ya need.”
You imagined his hands on his waist, and suddenly you wanted to stop and go home. For real this time. Too uncomfortable to admit it, you willed yourself to get a grip on yourself and blamed your sheepishness. If you ended this quickly, you could go back to Johnny’s table.
“I should be fine.”
Bending again, you mustered all your concentration and tried hard to ignore Johnny’s hot gaze on you, as well as Charlie’s.
From his spot, your man probably had a very straight, public view of your bra.
“C’mon,” you muttered to yourself, right before getting one ball into the far corner pocket with a smooth, hard stroke.
“Look at that!" Charlie exclaimed, brushing a hand against your lower back as he slipped to the other side. “That was good.”
His enthusiasm almost made you smile.
“Uh-huh,” was all you said, locking eyes with Johnny again.
Nerves crawled through your veins as you felt Charlie’s hand again, this time poking your side playfully.
“Hey, don’t go all sad on me. Ya can still beat me.”
No, but Johnny might.
Under the heat of his stare, you tried not to shrivel. You didn’t even know if you wanted to kiss him or make a run for it. That attitude–giggling with other men–was something you had never done before. Clearly, he hated that. And you, it made your heart pick up pace. Was it how it was between you now? Making each other jealous to get some attention?
Sitting uneasy at the table, Johnny didn’t think he owned you or anything. He just couldn’t stand the idea of someone treating you with less respect than you deserved. Getting physical wasn’t the solution–he was well aware, as you’d already warned him about it once–but he wanted to show you he had your back no matter what. Those young guys didn’t even give a fuck about getting to know you properly. How would they know you loved flowers more than anything else?
“What’s up?” Charlie asked, so close to your ear you smelled the booze on his tongue.
You slightly shifted backward, pretended to be focused on the game. “Nothin’.”
Your hand sweated against the cue as you saw Johnny pushing his chair back and striding over to you from the corner of your eye. It was only when he stood at the other end of the table that you saw those dark, suspicious eyes. They glanced at you, and back at the man standing proudly.
“I suggest ya take your hand off her now,” Johnny feigned nonchalance, resting both hands on the table.
You didn’t miss the second glance at your lips. Beside you, Charlie replied, but you were barely listening. Your mind was still stuck on the idea of touching Johnny and hearing him say that he didn’t like when guys got too close to you. That you were the only one. Deep down, you knew it was closer to insecurity than lust.
Even your name had never sounded so sensual coming from his lips. It snapped you out of whatever dreaming haze you had been in, finally making you move away.
“I guess we both lost,” you tried to lighten the mood, shooting Charlie a quick look.
It was useless. His attention was tethered to Johnny as he moved to get closer. Their mouths moved, but you could no longer hear what they were saying over the roaring of your ears. Something about your right to be playing, and Johnny’s response about doing whatever the fuck you wanted to do. You didn’t dwell on the semantics. Charlie had clearly had a drink or two already, and the flush in his cheek only made you assume the worst. He would get physical, and it would be over for Johnny.
“If she can’t be left on her own, then maybe you’ve got somethin’ to worry ‘bout,” Charlie pointed out, glaring at Johnny like he wasn’t afraid of throwing a punch first.
“What?” an offended gasp left your mouth, confused by his sudden aggressivity.
You’d never understand men. The sight of him turning from a sweetheart with a bright smile to an evil jerk calling you a whore was jarring.
“Not sure I get it,” Johnny replied, calm as ever. “What are ya callin’ her exactly?”
“Dunno,” Charlie didn’t lower his gaze as he retorted instantly. “The bitch’s been flirtin’ with me, and I’m in the wrong?”
You froze on the spot, knowing if you talked, an embarrassing sound would come out. Or maybe you would slap him.
The lights cast the area in dim light, and yet it was bright enough to see the flicker of red behind Johnny’s gaze. Time for you to step in.
“Listen to me,” Johnny was somehow nose-to-nose with the younger guy. “She’s under my protection. Right? She can do whatever she wanna do, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let a shithead like ya touch her the way ya did.”
“Yeah? She didn’t seem to complain ‘bout my hands earlier.”
You cringed at the words they were exchanging, although none of them truly gave a damn about the men listening in.
Before you could even blink, Johnny had backed him up against the wall, pressing so hard the guy gasped in a breath.
A curse left your lips as you rushed forward, trying to pull him away. “No, no, no. Let him go.”
“Say one more word about her, ‘n I’ll cut your dick out ‘n feed it to the dogs,” Johnny said, pretending not to hear or feel you. “Next time I see ya anywhere close to her, I’ll kill ya. Understood?”
You were glad Charlie kept silent, swallowing harshly as he gave Johnny a death glare. You hadn’t noticed Benny until now, waiting for a sign to step into the fight. He gave you a quick look, and you tried to reassure him with a quick smile. Like Yep! He’s going to kill him but it's all good.
“Fuckin’ wanker,” Johnny inhaled sharply as he let go of him, stepping backward.
You only figured Charlie didn’t fire back right away because he was being pulled away by two bulky men. He probably wouldn’t even remember after some sleep.
Putting a cigarette between his lips, Johnny yanked the door of the bar open before body slamming his way into the small crowd gathered before the bikes. You were trying to follow closely, getting frustrated at all the fucking people on your way, stomping over feet and puddles.
“Johnny!” you yelled as he made it to his car, his arm stiff as board on his side, his fist and his jaw clenched. “Hey!”
You’d seen him mad as hell once or twice, but never like that. He usually threatened guys calmly, like the boss he was. Losing his composure in front of the men–it had never happened. Dense fog swirled in the air, obscuring your view, so you nearly glued your body to his to have a good look at his expression. You were glad he hadn’t chosen his bike tonight. You hated it when he rode in a bad mood.
The night was calm, the men having already dispersed or made their way back inside. Tire noises and sirens were steady in the background, but even louder than that was the way he said, “What?”. Like you were getting riled up out of nowhere.
The air settled around you, as though everyone had left to let you discuss. A pit of guilt burned in your stomach, but you couldn’t help but feel mad.
“What the fuck just happened?”
Johnny huffed. “Ya wanted me to let him grope ya?”
You almost rolled your eyes. “Lighten up. He was… really respectful at first. If I’d wanted to, I’d have left.”
“Where to?”
“We were in a bar, Johnny. Not a stadium. I’d have figured my way out. And you knew this guy just wanted to fight anyways. That’s all he was lookin’ for.”
His lack of response pissed you off. Johnny blew the smoke away from your face, and you weren’t sure if he kept silent because he was still maddened or because he didn’t want to have this conversation with you.
“I’m not the dummy you think I am,” you added, spurred on by his eyes trained on you. “I appreciate you standin’ up for me, but–”
“But what?” he cut you off, a bit of smoke mixing with your air.
“But I don’t want to get your attention only when you’re jealous.”
Johnny glanced over at the bar’s entrance, where a couple was making out against a bike. “Bullshit.”
“Do you even love me anymore?”
Thick tension rolled off him, sucking all the air until you were left breathless, putting a shaking hand over your heart. It wouldn’t slow down. Not until he told you the truth.
“Do I love ya?” Johnny kept his gaze on you, reading your face like you were high or something. “I could have killed a guy for ya in there, ‘n you’re askin’ me if I love ya?”
“Well, it’s not been very obvious lately,” you hissed as you remembered how he had barely greeted you the night before. “You haven’t kissed me in three days, Johnny. You… you could barely keep your hands off me at the beginnin’–”
“Jesus,” he mumbled, stamping out his cigarette to grab your face between his palms. “Look at me. I’m sorry ‘bout that, alright?”
Your face scrunched up, but you managed to suppress the tears.
“What’s goin’ on?” you asked. “I thought we were havin’ something beautiful, and now, shit, we barely talk. You barely touch me.”
Johnny swallowed, finally coming to the realization that the situation was worse than he’d imagined.
“I’m sorry. Ya hear me? I’m sorry I’ve been leavin’ ya out. The club’s been draining me lately.”
Your eyes softened, a hand coming to rest upon his cradling on your cheek. “Talk to me, then. I was startin’ to think you were tired of me.”
Johnny frowned. “Fuck, no. I need ya.”
Your heart squeezed as the steady breeze made you shiver. “I miss you so much it breaks my heart.”
“I’m here,” he kissed a corner of your lips. “I promise I’m here.”
His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair.
“Say it again,” you breathed. “I can’t stand stayin’ away from you. Not talkin’ to you all the time.”
A thumb ran across your lips with the perfect roughness. “I promise I’m not goin’ anywhere. Ya want me to take a few days off?”
“No,” you sighed. “I’m not sure we can afford this.”
“We can. I’ll rent somethin’ cute and we’ll celebrate our anniversary. Just the two of us. What d’ya think?”
A small but sincere smile pulled at your lips. God, you loved him.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
The next second, he was kissing you until you couldn’t breathe anything but him. His palms skimmed up the backs of your thighs as you stood on your tiptoes. Without warning, he pulled back to look at you, that spark in his gaze mirroring yours.
“C’mon. I’m not fuckin’ you here.”
Relief and a spike of heat ran through your veins during the ride home. His warm hand rested on your thigh, squeezing it gently until he parked in front of the garage door. The silence only fuelled you, playing with your patience.
He quite literally glued himself to your back while you tried to unlock the front door, cursing at yourself for your trembling hands.
And finally, finally, he apologized with slow strokes of his cock and kisses on your breasts. Your clothes had been thrown aside haphazardly, abandoned in the heat of the moment. You had thought he would make you come like this, but he instructed you to roll over and lay on your stomach, and who were you to refuse? Those weeks apart, even when you had been in the same house and bed, had left you both pent up, wanting and missing each other more than anything else in the world. You didn’t even know how you had managed to stay silent this whole time.
“Shit. I love you,” you moaned, eyes screwed shut as he kissed up your spine, his hips flexing in time to make sure he was fucking you as deep as he could.
Exhaustion hit you like a train, and it felt so heavenly lying there as he whispered that you meant the world to him.
“So pretty,” Johnny mumbled, his words muffled as he nipped at the sensitive skin between your shoulder blades, “Got me so hard just from lookin’ at ya, sweets.”
You fisted the sheets and dug your nose in the pillow when you came, and Johnny quickly followed. He stilled on top of you, his chain sitting on your back and shining in the cold light pouring through the window.
“Gimme one minute and I’ll fuck ya again, right?” he breathed in your ear, making you grin against the pillow.
From that day on, he always did as he said. A small house was rented in the woods, and you spent your second anniversary making love, promising each other the truth.
