that strut tho. those trousers 👀
STL is 15k away from 600k reads! That is absolutely amazing and i honestly can't thank everyone enough for all the love and support i got while writing it! 💕
as always, the ** means smut and like i always do, i shall put some in just when it's about to start but tbh, it's pretty much the whole chapter...enjoy!
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Roxy's surprised to see that when she walks into the flat to see that John is still wide awake, watching some late night tv show.
"Hey," she says softly, closing the door behind her, "I thought you'd be asleep."
"Can't sleep," he shakes his head, "My body clock is all messed up."
Of course, he'd still be on American time.
Shrugging off her coat, Roxy makes for the bedroom so she can get changed out of her jeans, seeing that the two cats are spread out over the bed as if they own the damn thing.
"Hm," she scratches under both their chins, "Don't you get too comfortable."
Amos miaows and stretches out some more, and she shakes her head and pulls on a shirt that belongs to John and as she changes, she starts thinking about Brian and Kayla. How long had it been going on? Why hadn't they said anything? Though she'd think about it more in the morning because right now, all she wanted to do was cuddle up with her adorably jet-lagged boyfriend.
John scoots over so she can lay down on the couch beside him, "You don't have to wait up with me, love."
"But 'm not tired," she whispers, resting her hand on his cheek, "I missed you."
Turning his head slightly so he can kiss her palm, a smile tugs at his lips, "I missed you too."
Biting her lip, Roxy rubs her thumb gently across his soft skin, "Can you kiss me now?"
He grins, "With pleasure."
Both of their intentions had been innocent; a sweet kiss after a whole month of being away from one another but when John swipes his tongue along her bottom lip well, that all goes out of the window.
**
Slowly, so neither of them fall off the couch, John manoeuvres them so that he's hovering over her but he has to pull away when her hands find the bottom of his vest.
Normally, Roxy would be positively embarrassed by how desperate she's being but as John pulls the sweater vest over his head and starts working on the buttons of his undershirt, she finds that she doesn't fucking care.
It's been a month and she hadn't really realised how much she wanted him.
Once he's done messing around with the buttons, he tosses the fabric off to the side and helps Roxy sit up so he can pull her shirt (which in hindsight was a waste of time even putting on) over her head.
Her bra is gone in a blink of an eye and she lets out the breath that she didn't know she was holding as John places open-mouthed kisses over her now exposed skin.
He's glad that all she'd decided to wear was his shirt because that meant that all that was left on her was her pretty white underwear.
As he kisses up her neck, back to her lips, his hand tiptoes down her stomach, slipping under the lace of her underwear until he finds what he's looking for.
Roxy lets out a choked gasp as he slips a gentle finger inside her, her hand clasping around his wrist as he starts to move it.
"John," she breathes and he leans down to connect their lips again as she tries to grind against his hand, "John, please."
"Shh," he whispers, lips trailing down her neck and she whines when his finger leaves her. "You're being awfully impatient tonight," he hums as his lips move down her stomach.
She props herself up on her elbows as he slips the pretty white lace down her hips, raising them so he can get rid of them easier, "It's been a month, John. A month."
"Far too long," he agrees as her legs part for him and Roxy's head falls back against the cushions as he kisses and nips at the sensitive skin of her thighs.
As soon as his lips find her centre, one hand tangled in his hair while the other blindly reach out for something, anything to grab onto because Jesus, he's fucking good at that.
Her hips jerk up as he finds her clit but he braces his hands over them, keeping her pressed against the couch and on their own accord, her eyes slip shut and her breathing is erratic no matter how much she tries to keep it steady.
"Eyes open," John's voice is low, lower than she's heard it before but she obeys without a second thought, looking down upon him.
He's not looking at her - his own eyes are shut, focusing on the task at hand and he moves his mouth from her clit to press more open-mouthed kisses over her thighs before licking a thin stripe up her folds.
Again, on their own accord, Roxy's hips try to jerk up again but John keeps them pressed down and when she looks back down at him, their eyes meet.
The knot that's been building in her stomach starts to unravel - this, this is a record time orgasm for her and she wonders if he can sense that she's close.
John is a constant chant coming from her lips.
She swears that she's just a second away from toppling over the edge when John pulls away, a cry of his name leaving her.
She was so fucking close.
His head rests against her thigh for a few moments, watching is she comes down from the height of her denied pleasure.
"John, please."
"I don't want you to cum in my mouth, love," he whispers, slowly moving so he's hovering over her and she can feel the denim of his jeans brush against her.
In the state she's in, Roxy almost lets him take her there and then but as he moves to undo his jeans, she remembers the condoms that are in his bedside drawer.
"John," she presses a hand against his shoulder, "John, wait."
"What is it?" he asks, voice soft, "You alright?"
"Protection," she mumbles.
"Fuck," he whispers, "Two minutes, love."
He presses another heavy kiss to her lips before he goes into the bedroom; swearing that he's never moved faster as he rifles through the small drawer until he finds what he's looking for and thankfully, there's some left and he grabs one before returning to Roxanne, he pulls his jeans off.
She's resting her chin on the back of the couch, blanket over her shoulders as she looks him over as he stands in the doorway, stood in only his boxers where she sees just how turned on he is.
She's got a feeling that this isn't going to last very long for either of them.
"They'll be alright in there for a bit if I shut this, yeah?" him speaking snaps her out of it and she raises an eyebrow.
"Hm?"
"The cats," he clarifies, "They'll be alright?"
"Oh yeah, they'll be fine."
"Are you sure? What if they need to ear or-"
"John," Roxy interrupts, "They'll be fine. Now, can you please get over here?"
"Right, yes." he closes the door behind him and returns to the couch, where he kicks off his boxers before sitting down.
Roxanne shuffles closer, kissing along the top of his shoulders to his neck while he rips the small square packet open with his teeth.
Once she's sure that the condom is on properly and secure, she wastes no time in slinging a leg over him so she's sat in his lap, the blanket long forgotten.
"Eager, are we?"
She kisses him again so he shuts up, skimming a hand down his chest so she can take him in her hand and he lets out a breath as she positions herself above him.
John drops his head back against the couch as she sinks down onto him, his hands moving to her hips where he rubs the skin gently.
Roxy's head falls to his shoulder. She needs a moment to think -to breath- because it just feels so good.
"Rox?" he whispers, "Rox, you're going to have to-'m not gonna-"
She silences him with a roll of her hips and to silence herself, she focuses on sucking a dark mark onto his neck.
The first movement is always the best, Roxanne thinks and since it's been a while, it definitely feels so much better.
John's hands move to underneath her thighs, helping her move against him and he marvels in the small gasps and moans that leave her.
Like she thought, Roxanne knows that she's not going to last long, the orgasm that he denied her earlier is already building again in her stomach.
Pushing his hands away, Roxanne raises herself up, legs shaking as she drops back down.
John's moan is almost louder than hers and she leans in to kiss him again as she keeps moving, "Roxy, christ love,"
"I missed you," she whispers, nipping his bottom lip gently, "I missed you so much."
"Missed you too," he breathes, "Rox, 'm not gonna-"
"I know," she nods, kissing him again, "It's alright."
He tries to hold off as long as he can but the way she feels around him, the way she's moving - he just can't. His hands grip her waist as he feels her clench around him once more and that's it - he's gone.
Roxanne continues to work herself against him, chasing her own high and it's not long before she too is toppling over the edge.
John keeps his forehead pressed against her chest and she can feel his warm breath on her skin.
He's embarrassed. God, is he embarrassed. That was quick, far too quick and he can't bring himself to look at her.
"I'm sorry."
His words are muffled against her chest, tickling her and she bites her lip to stop herself from giggling - she doesn't want him thinking that she's laughing at that. She tips his chin up so he's looking at her and sees the faint splash of pink that's on his cheeks.
"It's alright," she whispers, kissing him softly, "John, it's alright."
**
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The following morning, Roxanne wakes up completely and utterly satisfied.
They'd gone for another round (that first one didn't count, love) last night and Jesus, she was feeling it this morning.
Her muscles are tight and she's sure she's got bruises on her hips that she'll see later on but god, she's happy.
At some point, they'd moved through to the bedroom and after John had shooed the ats off the bed, she'd passed out pretty much as soon as her head hit the pillow, feeling John's arm wrapping around her before her eyes slipped shut.
She's on her stomach and from beside her, she can hear John humming quietly under his breath and she stretches her arms out in front of her.
"Morning," John says softly, "Or should I say afternoon."
She turns over, making sure to keep the blanket held up against her chest, "Hi."
He looks positively wonderful like this; hair a mess from her hands constantly running through it, blanket resting just above his waist...
"What are you doing?" she asks, dragging her mind from the gutter and she tries to take a peek at the paper but he folds it over, hiding it from her view.
"Writing."
"Well, I can see that," she mumbles, kissing his bare shoulder, "But what are you writing?"
"A song," he hums.
"Can I read it?" she asks again, trying to peek again but he laughs and puts the paper down on his bedside table.
"It's not finished yet."
She pouts but before she can give him a verbal reply, he's hovering over her, "Can I hear it when it's done?"
"Maybe," he teases, leaning down to connect their lips and she hums, running her hands up his arms until they're connected at the back of his neck.
"Again? Really?" she asks, feeling him brush against her thigh and he grins.
"What can I say?"
Giggling, she pulls him down toward her lips again, "Welcome home, John."
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i tried 🤷♀️