Right At Lunch Time Here How I Love Having Smut Fics As Meals

right at lunch time here 😋😋😋 how I love having smut fics as meals

𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 After breaking up mid tour, Johnny still joins you as part of your band. But over the course of the remaining shows, he falls back in love with you, completely regretting his choice to end things with you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 angst, post breakup guilt, forced proximity, oral sex (f! receiving), P in V sex, quickie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 Johnny Depp x f! reader

It was devastating, the pain you felt when Johnny told you things were over. It didn't help that he was in your band as you went on your world tour. But it was too late for him to back out, so he stayed. It was hard, singing love songs you wrote about him, but you had to put on a show, act like it didn't hurt.

You kept the break up quiet, until people started noticing how sad you seemed singing love songs, even being spotted wiping tears away.

The headlines were brutal.

(Y/N) splits from rockstar boyfriend, Johnny Depp

(Y/N), why can't she keep a boyfriend?

You were sick of it, but what could you do? You had rehearsals with him all the time, making sure everything was perfect between shows.

But dammit, you did it with a broken heart, you did it for the applause it gave.

All it made Johnny do was question why he'd let you go. He had this absolutely beautiful woman who sparkled under the stage lights, and he'd thrown it away for what? Because he didn't think it would work? Because he was scared of committing fully? It was all bullshit in his mind, and he knew it. He knew he had to make things right.

Before the show, he knocked on your dressing room door as you were changing into your sparkly bodysuit.

"Come in!" You called out, fixing your lipstick, your eyes on your own reflection in the mirror, until you saw Johnny's figure join you in the reflection. You quickly turned around, facing him.

"Johnny.." You whispered, like you were seeing him for the first time again.

"Can we please just talk?" He asked softly. "As two people, not as professionals doing a job. Let me talk to the girl I fell in love with, not the popstar that everyone else knows." He whispered, taking a few steps closer.

Your heart clenched for a moment before you nodded. "Okay.. We can talk." You replied, your lingering feelings making it hard to resist his presence.

He took another step forward until he was right in front of you, his hand gently reaching out to stroke your cheek. "I think- No, I know I fucked up. I threw away a good thing. I threw away you when you mean everything to me. I was just.. An idiot. I don't even know what was going through my head, I don't know if I was just.. Scared of the commitment. Which is stupid because I would go to the ends of the world for you. Baby, I would get down on my knees and grovel if that's what you needed me to do." He confessed, sinking down to his knees in front of you, like he was confessing his sins. You were the priest, he was the sinner in need of healing.

Your breath hitched, both from the impact his words had on you, but the erotic places your mind immediately went to from seeing him on his knees. Why the hell was your mind going there, especially now of all times?

He left you speechless, breathless, and he knew it. He started kissing your thighs, not parting your legs, more like extending an olive branch. "Let me make it up to you. Please. I'll do anything for you to take me back.." He pleaded, his hands finding their way to your hips.

"Johnny.." You whispered, breath wavering, his touch sending sparks to your core. "Jesus, you're not being fair. Not when you're making me feel like this.." You whispered, your voice strained with arousal.

You saw the hint of a smirk on his lips. "Really now? And how am I making you feel?" He asked, rubbing circles into your hip, feeling the sequined texture of your bodysuit.

You let out a heavy sigh before muttering under your breath, "Horny..". It was an admission that felt shameful to slip past your lips, but it was the truth.

"Well, I can't let you go on stage soaking wet for me, can I? Spread your legs for me, baby. Let me make it up to you." He rasped, eyes dilated and dark as he looked up at you.

You just nodded and spread your legs, letting yourself lean on the vanity behind you. Immediately, he pulled your bodysuit to the side, and licked up your wet folds. "God, I've missed this pussy.." He groaned at your taste.

He delved his tongue into your drooling hole, his nose nudging your swollen bud. "Oh Johnny.." You softly moaned out. It had been months since you'd been touched by him, and it was frying all your nerve endings.

You gently grabbed his hair, grinding on his face slightly. He pulled his tongue out of you, instead choosing to make quick flicks on your clit. He shifted your leg so that your foot was resting on his back, not caring that your heels were digging into his skin. All he cared about was making you cum all over his face.

"John- Fuck! I'm close.." You cried out, back arched. He gave you an encouraging tap on the thigh, silently telling you to let go.

And you did, making a mess of his face, your arousal smeared across his nose, lips, chin.. Anywhere you touched.

"Shhh.. Do you want me, love? Want me inside this pretty cunt?" He asked, pressing gently kisses across your skin.

You nodded eagerly with a soft whine, and immediately he was up, undoing his belt and unzipping his fly, just enough to pull his rock hard cock out.

Your eyes were hazed over with lust, as you pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I missed you, I missed you so much." You whispered as he pushed inside you, feeling your tight heat envelope him.

Feeling him stretch you just like he did before, you mewled out in pleasure, digging your nails into him. "F-fuck.." You whispered through a hitched breath.

He rutted up into you roughly, repeatedly slamming into your g-spot, making you breathe heavy and moan out his name.

"Shhh.. Need to be quiet, sweetheart. Don't want anyone to know how naughty you are got me, hm? That you're getting dicked down by your lead guitarist?" He teased, covering your mouth with his hand.

You heard a knock on your dressing room door as Johnny was rearranging your guts, your eyes rolling back. "Miss (L/N), you're on in 5!" The voice, which you recognized as one of your stage managers, called from the other side of the door.

"O-okay!" You choked out, trying to make it seem like you weren't getting pounded by Johnny.

Johnny seemed amused as your stage manager walked away, like he got a kick out of making you struggle for words. "Fuck that, I'll get you on in 5." He rasped, thrusting into you even harder. He moved his hand to hover over your clit, his thumb coming down on it to rub tight circles.

You head was thrown back, and you were trying so hard not to scream, the knot in your stomach tightening. "J-Johnny, I'm so close! I'm gonna cum!!" You cried out, but it was barely a warning more than it was a declaration, because you were already coming undone around his cock.

"There we go.. I'm right behind you, make me cum, sweetheart, fucking milk my cock." He pushed, quickly busting inside you, his orgasm overtaking him.

He pulled out, and his recovery was almost instant as he knew you both had places to be. He swiftly cleaned you up, before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Does this mean you'll take me to be yours again?" He asked as you adjusted your bodysuit to the way it was previously.

You just gave him a kiss as a reply, before whispering against his lips, "At least it'll make for a good breakup song or two." You teased, before giving him a wink and walking out of the door, heading to where you were supposed to be, leaving him starstruck for a moment, before he too headed to where he was supposed to be.

┆𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓┆

𝐀/𝐍 I hope this was okay! Kinda hate this but that's fine ig 😭

🎸 taglist: @littlerobbinphantomhive19 @ghsttk @kittenlittle24 @trekkitkat @amy-fontaine @chronicallybubbly @mgajdaaa @mininiamh @bennwazzhere @needz1nk Thank you for your support 💜

just to update you guys: yes, I am writing.

Private lessons. (889/~1100)

Under the table. [or something like that] (10/~1000)

Feast. (1600/~2000)

escorreu uma lágrima e não foi dos olhos.

Johnny Depp, Cannes

ai, para.. acho que a sopa de repolho tem seu charme, né? 😋

A ticket to your heart ★ Capítulo 1 ★

Um suspiro escapa de seus lábios quando finalmente avista a "boa" e velha casa caindo aos pedaços e, provavelmente, com algumas partes mofadas, mas ei, continua sendo uma casa, não?

Seus moradores são a família Bucket, que não eram uma família abastada, na verdade, eles mal tinham o que comer. O fato é que você e seu irmão eram as pessoas mais sortudas do mundo, apenas não sabiam disso.

— Boa noite, Buckets. — Você e Charlie falam em uníssono ao entrarem em casa.

— Boa noite. — Todos respondem como de costume, e, por 'todos', quero dizer, Vovó Georgiana, Vovó Josephine, Vovô Joe , Vovô George e a senhora Bucket, que estava fazendo uma sopa de repolho. Seu pai parecia não ter chegado ainda.

— Posso saber como foi o dia de vocês? — A senhora Bucket sorri e olha para vocês rapidamente antes de voltar sua antenção para a sopa.

— O mesmo de sempre. — Você diz se sentando à mesa. Não era uma total mentira, tirando aquele homen estranho, tudo havia ocorrido como todos os outros dias.

— Pois é. A única coisa diferente hoje foi a aula do professor Eujénio de álgebra. — Puxando uma cadeira na pequena mesa, Charlie senta ao seu lado e começa a tirar alguns livros de sua mochila — Foi mais chata que o normal. — Ele disse com um sorrisinho em seu rosto.

— Charlie, não diga isso! Tenho certeza que esse senhor Eujénio dá uma ótima aula. — A Sra Bucket repreende o olhando de relance enquanto o risinho de certas 4 pessoas pode ser ouvido.

— É Charlie, não diga isso. — Você cópia o tom de sua mãe, oferecendo um "toca aqui" e uma piscadela pra ele. Você se vira para a cozinha. — A senhora precisa de ajuda, mãe?

— Oh, não. Não se preocupe com isso querida. — Ela sorri para você como um gesto de gratidão. Nesse mesmo momento a velha porta se abre com um rangido, a figura de seu pai é iluminada pela luz da lareira.

— Boa noite, Buckets.

— Oi, pai! — você e Charlie o cumprimentam.

— Olá, querido. Trouxe alguma coisa para colocar na sopa? — O senhor Bucket olha para a panela cheia de água e repolho e suspira tristemente.

— Err, não. Infelizmente não.

— Ah... Tudo bem. Repolho sempre cai bem com repolho! — O senhor Bucket dá um sorriso, envergonhado por não conseguir dar um conforto suficiente para a sua família.

— Ah! Charlie, eu tenho uma coisa pra você. — Ele coloca a mão em seu bolso e retira duas tampas de tubo de pasta de dente grudadas. Um erro da fábrica de onde seu pai trabalha.

Charlie solta um audível suspiro de surpresa e alegria ao receber a notícia. Saltando para fora da cadeira, ele corre até seu pai para pegar a tampa.

Agradecendo brevemente, o garoto anda para um canto da sala e tira uma maquete feita com tampas de pasta de dente da famosa fábrica junta de um bonequinho no centro.

— O que é isso, Charlie? — Vovô Joe pergunta. Você se senta ao lado dele, fascinada pela criação de seu irmão.

— É uma maquete da fábrica! A única coisa que estava faltando era o chapéu do Willy Wonka. — Ele posiciona as duas tampas na cabeça do boneco de forma que elas se pareçam com uma cartola.

— Charlie, isso é incrível! — Você sorri, seu peito se enche de orgulho por seu irmão mais novo. O resto de seus familiares concordam totalmente com você. Um rubor aparece no rosto de seu por estar sendo o centro das atenções. Ele agradece suavemente com um sorriso envergonhado.

— Ficou igualzinho. — Disse vovô Joe.

— O senhor acha? — Charlie pergunta se virando para ele.

—Se eu acho? Eu sei que ficou!

— Vovô Joe viu o Willy Wonka com os próprios olhos, Charlie. — Você sorri ao lembrar Charlie sobre as histórias que seu avô tinha para contar.

— Isso é verdade. — Ele acena com a cabeça. — Eu já trabalhei para ele, sabiam?

— Foi? — Pergunta Charlie.

— Foi. — Afirma vovô Joe.

— Foi sim. — Concordou vovó Josephine.

— Foi.— Disse vovô George.

— Eu adoro uvas! — Exclama vovó Georgiana com um sorriso banguela. Você e seus pais concordam com a cabeça.

— É claro que naquela época eu era muito mais jovem. — Vovô Joe falou com um olhar distante.

— O Willy Wonka começou com uma única loja na rua Sherly, mas o mundo todo gostou do doces dele. — Ele olha para vocês novamente. — O homen era um gênio!

— Você sabia que ele inventou um jeito novo de fazer sorvete de chocolate que fica gelado por horas fora do congelador? Você pode até deixar no Sol num dia quente e ele não derrete!

Você não tem outra escolha a não ser sorrir. Seu avô, que nos últimos tempos tem todo uma aura tão melancólica, estava sorrindo como uma criança. Ele falava tão bem do chocolateiro que você não pode negar o desejo, mesmo que impossível, de conhecê-lo.

— Isso é impossível. — Contradiz Charlie. Por um momento você quase achou que seu irmão tivesse lido sua mente.

— Só que o Willy Wonka inventou. — Rebate vovô Joe.

— Pouco depois, ele decidiu abrir uma fábrica de chocolate. A maior da história! Cinquenta vezes maior que qualquer outra!

Vovó Josephine sorri ao ver seu marido tão feliz e seus netos tão interessados em suas histórias. Não querendo que esse momento acabe tão cedo, ela intervem. — Conte a eles sobre o príncipe indiano. Eles vão gostar de ouvir.

Sua mãe traz o jantar para seus avós na cama enquanto você olha com curiosidade para seu avô. Príncipe indiano? Você não havia ouvido essa ainda.

Seu avô, muito satisfeito com a pergunta de sua esposa, começa a contar a história. Parece que um príncipe enviou uma carta para o Sr. Wonka, pedindo que ele construísse um palácio colossal de chocolate. Ele avisou para o príncipe que não duraria por muito tempo e que ele deveria começar a come-lo, mas o príncipe não deu ouvidos. Enfim, um fatídico dia escaldante chegou e todo o castelo foi reduzido a uma enorme poça de chocolate. O príncipe enviou um telegrama pedindo um novo palácio, mas Wonka não respondeu.

Você segura uma risada. — Também não responderia se fosse ele. Seria uma grande perda de tempo, já que o palácio provavelmente derreteria de novo.

Vovô Joe dá um pequeno sorriso e acena a cabeça. — Mas Willy Wonka tinha seus próprios problemas. Todos os outros fabricantes de chocolate tinham inveja do Sr. Wonka. Começaram a mandar espiões para roubar a receita secreta.

— A roubalheira era tanta que um dia, sem avisar, o sr. Wonka mandou todos os seus funcionários embora e anúnciou que iria fechar a fábrica de chocolate para sempre.

— Mas não fechou pra sempre. Tá aberta agora. — Charlie fala após engolir uma colherada de sopa.

— Ah, é que as vezes quando os adultos dizem "para sempre" querem dizer "por muito tempo". — Sua mãe explica.

— Exemplo: parece que eu vou tomar sopa de repolho para sempre! — Interfere vovô George.

— Papai... — O Sr. Bucket o repreende.

— A fábrica chegou a fechar, Charlie. — Explica vovó Josephine.

— E parecia que ela iria ficar fechada para sempre. Então, um belo dia vimos fumaça saindo das chaminés. A fábrica voltou a funcionar! — Vovô Joe fala num tom alegre.

— E você voltou pra lá? — Perguntou Charlie. De repente ficou difícil de engolir a sopa. O ambiente ficou tenso, ninguém ousava falar alguma coisa. Todos sabiam a resposta para essa pergunta. Todos menos Charlie.

— Nem eu, nem ninguém. — Vovô Joe sussurrou voltando seu olhar para a tigela de sopa.

— ... Mas deve ter gente trabalhando lá. — Charlie quebra o gelo.

— Acho que já teríamos visto alguém saindo ou entrando na fábrica, caso estivessem. — Você fala num tom gentil, não querendo alimentar ainda mais a melancolia dali e nem ser grossa com seu irmão.

— Mas então quem opera as máquinas? — Indagou Charlie.

— Ninguém sabe, Charlie. É um mistério. — Você responde.

— Alguém já perguntou o senhor Wonka? — Charlie pergunta.

— Nunca mais foi visto por mais ninguém. Ele sumiu. — Responde vovô Joe — A única coisa que sai daquele lugar são as barras de chocolate. Embaladas e empacotadas. — ele suspirou. — Eu daria tudo na vida para que vocês pudessem entrar e ver aquela fábrica. Para vocês presenciarem a mesma magia que eu presenciei. Talvez eu conseguisse um emprego para você lá, minha querida. Daí você não precisaria trabalhar tanto naquela loja. Tenho certeza que seria muito divertido. O Sr Wonka podia até ser um homen muito introspectivo, mas tenho certeza que ele gostaria de você. — Vovô Joe vira para você com um grande sorriso no rosto.

Com o coração transbordando de amor, você se levanta e dá um beijo na testa de seu avô. — Obrigada vovô. Isso seria muito gentil da sua parte.

Vovô Joe ri baixinho. — Ora, eu apenas quero o melhor pros meus netos. É pedir demais? — todos da família sorriem ao ouvirem isso. A casa volta a sua aura feliz.

Sua mãe se levanta. — Bem crianças, acho que já está na hora de deixar seus avós descansarem. — Você e Charlie acenam com a cabeça, pegando seus pratos e levando-os á pia. Dão boa noite para o resto da família e sobem para o sotão, carinhosamente apelidado de seu quarto.

Nele há apenas uma cama velha, grande o suficiente para caber você e Charlie, e uma cômoda caindo aos pedaços que guarda suas poucas roupas e pertences.

Você e Charlie se deitam na cama, ouvindo alguns estalos no processo. Charlie chama o seu nome.

— Hum... — Você murmura, sinalizando que está escutando.

— Você acha que um dia a gente vai poder ir para a fábrica?

Você respira profundamente, pensando na melhor maneira de responder sua pergunta.

— Eu não sei, Charlie. Mas é bem improvável.

Você não queria baixar o astral de seu irmão, mas também não queria levantar falsas esperanças.

— Mas improvável não é impossível, não é? — Charlie sorri.

Você não responde, apenas desarrumando o cabelo dele com sua mão, o que causou uma risada de vocês dois. Depois disso ambos vão dormir.

Não é como se Charlie estivesse errado afinal das contas. O futuro é cheio de surpresas e você não sabia o que ele tinha guardado para você.

Do mesmo jeito que você estava completamente ignorante à presença de certas pessoinhas dirigindo lambretas vermelhas contendo notícias que chocariam o mundo e virar sua vida de cabeça pra baixo.

★

Olá pessoas! Me desculpem mesmo pelo tempo q levou pra postar o primeiro capítulo dessa fanfic.

Mas não se preocupem! Eu não a abandonei e nem pretendo fazer isso!!

O intuito desse capítulo é mais pra aprofundar a sua relação com os Buckets, então sem Willy por enquanto. Mas só por enquanto! Já que ele já vai tomar uma vitamina D nos próximos capítulos.

Infelizmente não posso garantir que o próximo capítulo vai sair rápido, então, para compensar isso, pensei em começar a fazer oneshots curtos sobre os personagens do Johnny Depp e outros personagens.

Muito obrigado @ghsttk por ter me dado o pontapé final pra eu postar isso ♥

“you’re a writer, can you explain your process?” yes. first, i panic. then i procrastinate. then, in a fit of productivity at 3 a.m., i create chaos.

my current situation.

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐒

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 Your best friend, Johnny, finds out about all the dirty little fantasies you've been having about him. Not only does he make you confess every single one, but he makes them a reality.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 pulling panties off with teeth, P in V sex, panty stealing (kinda), couch sex, romantic sex, slightly drunk sex? reader is a bit tipsy, friends to lovers, unprotected sex (WARNING: THIS IS DONE BY PROFESSIONALS DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME), creampie

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 Johnny Depp x f!reader

You were at your best friend's, Johnny's, house, just drinking, eating dinner, catching up on life. Somehow, the topic of conversation turned towards dating endeavors.

"Oh, I've sworn it off. Even hookups, though I wouldn't mind a dick appointment from you." You teased him, biting your lip, giving him a sultry look, before taking another sip of your wine. Jesus, what were you even doing? The rush of alcohol in your system making your brain fuzzy, incoherent to rational thought.

"What?" He choked on his wine, leveling himself.

But your stupid brain still wouldn't take the hint that maybe you shouldn't keep talking. "Mhm. It's shameful.. The things I think about when I'm alone.." You whispered, running your finger tips up your thigh. You wore a satin blue dress that went to your midthigh, a soft floral pattern along the chest.

He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the way you were talking without any filter. "Do tell me, dear, what do you think about me doing to you?" He asked, eyes hungry as he stood up. "Hm?"

"Mmm.. Well.. I imagine you laying me down.. Us making out for a bit until I'm practically squirming underneath you.. Then you'd lift up my dress, pull my panties off, and fuck me like I'm more than a friend to you." You admitted, standing up as well with a slight wobble.

He walked you back, pushing you to lay down on the couch. He was quickly on top of you, arm around your waist, the other tangled in your hair, cradling the back of your head. "Is that so? Would you say you want me now, sunshine?" He asked, training open mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck.

"Yes." You croaked out, caught off guard by the feeling of his lips on your neck, feeling his warm breath on your skin.

"Your know there's no going back from this, yeah? If I fuck you, we're not just friends anymore. Friends don't do this type of shit. You're mine, and I don't share, got it?" He whispered, before crashing his lips onto yours. Soft, yet powerful, hungry.

You let out a soft sound of approval as you savored his lips, your arms wrapping around him, holding him like a lover.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered, grinding against your thigh. "None of those bastards you brought around were ever worth your time." He sounded almost jealous.

"I never thought...I'd have a chance with you." You whispered back between kisses, him occasionally cutting you off with desperation and a need to claim you.

"God, I knew you were naive, sweet girl, but I didn't think you were mad. Everytime I see you, my heart stops. Everytime I see you in the sunshine, the light bouncing off your features, I think, 'This is heaven. God is a woman, and I've just seen her.'" He whispered, holding you closer, pouring his affection into your every pore.

You tried to grind back against him, but he just put a flat palm against your pubic bone, pinning you down.

"Don't tease tonight, J.. Let me feel you." You whispered, kissing him with your eyes open, peering into the dark brown windows of his soul.

"Okay.. Okay. Whatever you want, princess." He whispered, trailing kisses down, over your dress, feeling the smooth satin against his lips, before his face was hovering over your sex.

He pushed your dress up over your hips, before leaving kisses along your clothed pussy. But you begged him not to tease, so he used his teeth the grab the fabric of your underwear, pulling down the black lace. "God, she's gorgeous. Look at that.." He praised, referring to your cunt, rubbing a thumb over your clit, seeing how you'd respond to him.

He pocketed your panties before kicking off his jeans and boxers. You looked like you would go crazy if he wasn't inside you in the next 5 minutes, your whole body filled with need. "Shhhh, I know. Just let me-" He cut himself off, grabbing his wallet off the end table, pulling out a small foil package.

"Johnny. Not now, please. I need to feel you." You begged, your hands extended, wanting to pull him closer.

He stopped for a moment, not expecting you to make that request, but God, the thought of being skin to skin with you like that.. It drove him crazy. You were begging for the most intimate thing, no barriers between the two of you. "Yeah? You sure, baby?" He asked, putting the condom and his wallet back on the table.

He leaned over you, closer to your body. "Absolutely." You whispered, a softer intimacy present in your voice as you put a gentle hand on his jawline, fingertips touching his skin.

He took in a shaky breath, before straightening himself back up, spitting in his hand before he stroked his painfully hard cock. It was thick, with a pretty pink tip. He shifted over you again, rubbing against your folds, before pushing in, feeling the way your cunt stretched around him. "God, baby.." He rasped, feeling you raw.

"Deeper, Johnny, please!" You whined, hands finding and caressing his body.

"Yeah? You want deep?" He asked fully bottoming out inside you, making you gasp and moan. "I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Let me know how good my cock is making you feel." He whispered, rocking his lips inside you.

You let out a soft moan as he leaned down to kiss you. You tangled one hand in his hair, the other resting on his cheek. You were having sex, but it was so much more than that. It was a confession, a sharing of vulnerability, a moment of becoming one with each other.

He started off slowly, testing the waters, before he found a rhythm that had you crying out.

"Yes! Oh fuck!" You moaning, almost screaming out as you wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him deep inside you.

The sounds you made, the way you were wrapped around him, it was driving him wild. He picked up the pace, his lips finding your neck, leaving kisses and bites in their wake, his head swimming with the feeling of all of you. "You like that, baby? Is this what you wanted? This what you've been thinking about this whole damn time?" He asked, panting, slightly breathless as he mercilessly thrusted inside you.

You nodded, mouth open in a loud moan, with that cock drunk expression on your face. The pressure was quickly building up in your stomach, pleasure flooding your body, like a dam about to break through.

"Good girl." he murmured, his breath ragged. "Just let go, baby. I wanna hear you. I wanna make you feel good." He moved his lips to your ear, his teeth gently biting down on the lobe between words, "You look so amazing like this, all mine."

"Johnny, I'm so close!" You cried out, head leaned back against the couch.

He wrapped an arm around your body, holding you close, drinking up your sounds. "I wanna feel you let go. Cum for me, baby. I've got you." He whispered so sensually.

It only took a few more thrusts before you were crying out his name as you came undone around him, your heat clenching around him. "Johnny.. Johnny.. Fuck.." You mumbled, a breathless whimper.

The way you said his name, the way you felt around him, it sent him careening over the edge. He buried his face against the crook of your neck, your name a breathless chant of a mantra on his lips. "Oh, God, baby." He groaned. "You feel so good. You're so perfect. You're mine. You're my girl. Say it. Say you're my girl."

As you both came down from your highs, you pressed a kiss against his lips. "I'm yours. Your girl." You confirmed.

┆𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓┆

𝐀/𝐍 Hope that was okay, because I am NOT proofreading it ‼️

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