johnnie guilbert & jake webber imagines

rough day

all credits to @/sh4wty18 on tumblr!!

pairing: johnnie guilbert x you

summary: johnnie has a bad day and you comfort him.

cw: fluff, language, suggestive but nothing major

word count: 1.1k + edited

---

You knock on Johnnie and Jake's front door anxiously, staring down to re-read Johnnie's most recent text over and over:

J: please come over.

Y/N: please come over? johnnie we're dating, you don't have to be so formal when you want to have sex lmaooo

You had answered him, but never received a reply. You read it at 4:48 pm. He read your reply at 5:01. No response. Not even an "lol". Johnnie always replied to your texts immediately– he's head-over-heels and everyone knows it. So when he doesn't respond, you know for a fact something is wrong.

Jake answers the door then, causing you to jolt, startled. "Hey, is Johnnie here?" you ask immediately.

"Woah, it's good to see you too?" Jake teases, clearly oblivious to any issue Johnnie was having, "Yeah, he's here, in his room. You're his girlfriend but don't constantly know his location? Damn, someone doesn't care about their relationship!" He makes a fake judging expression that can only be described as "yikes!", and tugged on his shirt collar while pointing at you with his other thumb. He was joking, of course, but you weren't particularly in the mood right now.

"Jake this is fucking serious. I'm going upstairs," you push past him and run inside, hearing the front door close as you jog up the staircase to knock on Johnnie's bedroom door.

"Hey baby, it's me," you say gently. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," Johnnie replies, barely audible.

You open Johnnie's bedroom door to find him laying in bed, buried deep under the comforter, with only the setting sun shining through the curtains to light the room. You close the door, take off your shoes and pants (for comfort), and walk over to Johnnie's bed to crawl in with him. He stretches out of his curled position, and turns toward you, cheeks flushed and tear-stained.

"Oh, baby, what's wrong?" You lay next to him and pull his waist towards you, indicating to him to lay on top of you. You wrap your arms around each other and he rests his full body weight on you.

"I don't know. I have nothing to be upset about. I'm famous, I'm wealthy, I have amazing friends, amazing family, and I've found the love of my life at twenty six. I am so fucking privileged and lucky, and yet I still feel like shit all the time. Why can't I just feel fucking normal?" He sobs at the end of the question, and tucks his face into your chest, crying quietly onto you.

You don't quite know what to say in response. So instead of offering unhelpful advice, you run one hand through his hair, pulling him firmly against your chest, as if holding him tighter would somehow transfer his pain to you. You kiss his head and whisper, "I love you," over and over again until you hear his breathing slow, and feel his body go limp against yours. He needed to rest. Eventually, you feel yourself drifting off as well. You know that when you both wake up, you'll both be in a better headspace to discuss the situation.

–

Two hours later you begin to regain consciousness. Somehow as you slept, your positions reversed, and now Johnnie was laying on his back with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close. Your head rests in the crook of his neck, and your arm is draped over his stomach. You squeeze him lightly, and lean to kiss his nose softly. His eyes flutter open slowly, and he gives you a small smile.

"Hi, beautiful," he says, blue eyes meeting yours.

"Hi, pretty boy," you respond, "Are you feeling any better post-nap?"

He lets out a giggle, and presses his lips gently to yours, "I feel better now that you're here. I'm sorry I sent you that cryptic ass message with no response. That was shitty. I knew you'd be worried but I still couldn't bring myself to reply. It was like I was stuck. I couldn't move out of my covers until you got here. I was frozen, and all I could do was think about how fucking sad I feel right now, and also how fucking stupid I am for feeling shitty when I'm literally one of the most privileged people of all time."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. Sure, you're privileged, but you recognize that, and you're grateful. You're still allowed to be sad, even with privilege. You can't help how you feel, you're human. And you've been famous for a decade! Most of your youth was spent online!! That's fucked! You deserve to feel all these emotions! Not that I want you to be sad. I only ever wanna see you smiling. And I wish there was something I could do. I wish I could just take all your pain away forever. You are the best person I know, Johnnie. I hope you know how much I love you," you say into his neck, where your face rests.

Johnnie tilts your chin towards his face with his free hand, "I love you more than anyone on this earth, you know that? I have no fucking clue where I'd be without you. And I know you think you suck at giving advice, but that was actually exactly what I needed to hear." He kisses you again, passionately now, and pulls your body on top of his.

You run your hands through his hair while you kiss, his hands gripping your thighs as they straddle him, "Getting all deep and emotional with me made you needy, huh?"

Before he can respond, (and before the fire ignites in your lower stomach), you decide to pull away and hop off the bed.

"Noooo, girlfriend, come back," Johnnie whines in a joking, childish voice. He gets out of bed too, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. He buries his face in your neck to kiss it as you walk in unison towards his bedroom door.

"You need to eat something, Johnnie, c'mon," you say.

He doesn't respond, instead he starts lightly sucking at your neck as you attempt to open the door. Your breath catches, and you let go of the door knob to wrap both hands around the back of Johnnie's neck and pull him closer.

"Johnnie..." you mumble.

"Mmm?" he replies, lips pulling away from your neck and brushing against your ear, "I wanna show my, kind, smart, funny, gorgeous girlfriend how much I love her," he whispers.

He spins you around to face him, and, walking backwards, leads you toward the bed.

You know he doesn't feel completely better yet. He won't for a while. But you're not worried anymore. You have confidence that whatever happens– to either of you– you'll go through it together. There is no one else either of you would rather experience life with– the highs and the lows.

---