content warnung: masturbation, sexual innuendo, overall just smut, minors dni
liquid spills and drips past the walls, getting licked away, the taste weird. like a fetus, the mind is swimming as the only picture visible in its true colors is the one of a pale, lean and naked body, water running down it's wake. the trunks feel tighter and tighter each second, the water's touch as arousing as a partner's hand. escape. an escape is needed. legs take the human body covered by wet skin to the bathrooms and shower stalls. after the door closes, the back feels a cold contact, breaths coming out in relief and frustration. finally, the water turns on, the warm rain falls, trunks now discarded as the wet hand runs over the shaft with desperation, the pace picking up to a max as the white milky liquid leaks.
hey guys, I'm back. this piece is somewhat old (at least a year) so I'm sorry if it sucks but I hope you still find some enjoyment :D
what is art punk erotica?:
"art punk erotica" is a piece of erotica (smut) characterized for its use of vulgar and apathetic language, often sounding cold, harsh or unpersonal. It's supposed to be somewhat brash, weird and abstract so that everyone can read it (male, female and gn readers).
note.1: I really wanted to do something about Jim Morrison, but I don't know much about him, so I tried to do some research and bring some headcanons here. So please don't judge me, I know this can't be very good 😭
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Headcanons - Jim Morrison x Reader
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★ He doesn't say "I love you" often. When he does, it's almost a whisper, and always in the most random moments — you washing the dishes or him simply putting on his seatbelts.
★ He finds it beautiful when you're angry. He told you that once. You nearly threw a cushion at his face.
★ He has the weirdest sense of humour — he'll show you a deeply profound poem and then the last line is some stupid joke that makes you snort
★ He watches you sleep. You woke in the early hours and found him propped on his elbow, just looking at you. "Was trying to memorise you," he murmured.
★ When he's too drunk, he gets very quiet and asks things like "Do you think I'm a good person?" You say yes. He never quite believes it.
★ There are days when he doesn't answer, doesn't look you in the eye, doesn't touch you. You've learnt it's not about you — his head has just gone too far away. You leave a glass of water next to him and wait.
★ You argue badly from time to time. He says something cutting, you fire back, he storms out. Hours later, he returns with two coffees, sits on the floor beside you, and rests his head on your knee. It's the closest to "sorry" you'll ever get
★ He hates crowds, and you discover this at a party where he disappears and you find him sitting alone in the garden, smoking and watching the stars. He offers you half his cigarette without a word.
★ Jim disappears on tour. He sends short letters: "I'm alive. Paris is cold. I hate you for not being here." You know that "I hate you" is his way of saying "I love you" in those moments.
★ He has an obsession with collarbones. He can't explain it, but whenever he's distracted, his fingers find their way there, tracing the bone slowly.
★ His kisses are always slow and wet. He kisses as if it was more than just two lips togheter, but something only the two of you know, exploring every corner of your mouth.
★ He has a habit of stopping mid-act just to look at you. It's not teasing — it's worship. He wants to memorise your face in that exact moment.
★ Away from the roaring crowds and the Lizard King stage persona, reading is his grounding anchor. When the weight of fame or his inner demons get too loud, reading to you — or letting you read to him while he rests his head in your lap — is his only real peace.
★ He tests you by handing you obscure, heavy-hitting philosophy or symbolist poetry without context, watching your face intently to see your reaction and how your mind works
★ His flat or hotel room is perpetually overflowing with paperbacks. You constantly trip over copies of Arthur Rimbaud, William Blake, Friedrich Nietzsche, etc.
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note.2: I hope this is decent. I'll write some fanfiction about him later, and I'll do more research on Jim and see what he was like in a more..."intimate" way
The fic that bothered me for so long until I finally wrote it down. It's a sweet little story set in Paris 1971. I think I wanted to give Jim a bit of happiness, that's why this story came to be. But yeah, enjoy this Jim Morrison x Female Reader one <3
Likes, reblogs, kudos and comments are appreciated!
Title: Lost Together
Summary: The feeling of being lost was always somewhere near you, only getting worse once you've found your way to France. Not knowing the language turned out to be a big barrier you couldn't deal with. Meeting people who you could understand felt like a blessing, especially during that one rainy day that brought a very close friend to you.
can i request slow morning smut with morning voice jimbo plsss ☺️☺️
pairing: jim morrison x fem!reader
warnings: explicit content, smut, very little plot, fingering (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, praise, pet names, finger sucking, d/s if you squint, bit of overstim and slight dubious consent? (you wake up and jim immediately wants to jump your bones LMAO), use of the word cunt, unedited, i think that's everything?
wc: 902. my bad guys 😭.
a/n: im so sorry this took so long!! ik u said slow but i uh. think i got a bit carried away😭. this is my first time writing smut in a while so pls pls PLSS lmk what u think (but also go easy on me🙏)!! and send in requests if youd like
You wake up in a tangle of sheets and to lips brushing against your skin.
"Good morning." Jim's voice made deeper and huskier from sleep rumbles in your ear. You shiver against it, squeezing your legs together.
“Good morning,” you rasp, one of his hands reaching up to grope at your breast, kneading it softly. He doesn’t hold it for long, emitting a small whine from you but he shushes you gently, trailing his fingers down your stomach, past your waist, and nudging your thighs open.
“Jim,” you whimper, one of his fingers barely grazing your clit.
His tongue traces your neck tenderly. “Shh.” He whispers. “Lay on me, baby. Lay on me and let me make you feel good. I’m going to make my girl feel so good.”
Your mind goes blank as he starts massaging your clit, rubbing it in circles. You tremble against his touch letting out a moan as you feel two other fingers between your folds, gently prodding you open. You let them in easily, still wet from last night, and feel them go deeper and deeper until they’re out again.
You make a noise of protest but then Jim’s voice is by your ear again. “Shh. I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you,” and his fingers start sliding back in, going somehow deeper than before. You squirm against the feeling, against the fullness of it, the warmth. It’s so good, so good, and you want to sit up, fuck yourself onto his fingers, his cock, anywhere you can.
You feel his other hand on you, stilling your movements. “No.” Jim’s tone is firm but gentle. “What did I say baby?”
You can’t speak, not with the fluttering feeling in your stomach getting stronger. You shake your head weakly.
“What did I say baby?” His fingers curl inside of you and a cry rips from your throat.
“Lay- fuck- lay on you,” you manage to say in between gasps. “Be a good girl and- ah!- lay on you.”
“That’s right. What a good girl for remembering.” His pace starts to quicken and you grip his arm tighter. His fingers are moving in and out of you faster, thrusting and curling harder and harder inside your heat. Your stomach starts coiling and you squirm and shake as you feel your orgasm build.
“Jim,” you moan, back arching against him. “Jim-ple-please-I-“
“I know baby, I know.” He says, almost croons. “My good girl. Such a good girl for me. Make a mess on my fingers baby. Be a good girl and show me how you cum when I fuck you with my fingers.”
His words go straight to your cunt. Your vision goes white as you part your lips, gripping his arm desperately. Your thighs shake as you feel yourself clench, hips bucking uncontrollably, crying out as you writhe on his fingers.
Jim holds you as you ride the waves of your orgasm, whispering soft praises against your ear, ‘so good, my good girl, so beautiful like this, so gorgeous.’ You’re still twitching when he slips his fingers out of you and brings them up to your lips. You swirl your tongue around them, drinking and sucking your wetness.
You stay like that for a while, with him holding you as you clean his fingers. When your breathing is finally calm, he draws them out of your mouth with a small ‘pop.’
You turn around, facing him, leaning your forehead against his. “Hi,” you smile.
“Hey honey.” He brings his mouth closer to yours and you kiss him, long and hard, tasting yourself on his tongue, before you look down to see his hand stroking his hard cock. You bring your lips towards the head, licking the beads of cum. When you look up Jim is watching you, pupils blown with arousal and want. You move to straddle his waist and he kisses you again, moaning against your lips as you sink onto his length.
He’s so big. You throw your arms around his neck, whining his name. “I’m here baby,” he groans, thrusting his hips into yours. “I’m here. Don’t need to worry about anything else, just let me fuck you. Just let me make you cum.”
He brings a hand up towards your swollen clit. You whimper, it’s already so sensitive, but Jim’s deep, lush voice urges you, “You can do it for me, baby. Cum all over my cock. I’ll give your tight pussy what it needs if you cum for me.”
A few strokes to your cunt is all that it takes. You feel yourself tighten around him, thighs spasming, waves of pleasure rushing through you. You can tell by the way Jim’s hips are rutting into you fast and desperate that he’s close too. “I knew you- fuck,” he hisses, cock throbbing and twitching inside you, “gonna fill you up baby, gonna fill- shit - gonna fill my girl’s tight, wet pussy,” and he thrusts inside of you a final time before he cums with a moan of your name.
For a while, you lay in Jim’s arms as he softens inside of you, rubbing circles onto your back. You close your eyes, content and happy against his touch. Eventually, he pulls out, gently resting you down on the bed and lying next to you, hand stroking your cheek.
“So,” you say, smiling. “Round three in the shower?”
Warnings: Sex lol. (Also, it's been at least 7 or 8 years since I've stepped foot in a hotel, so please correct me if I screwed up on anything about the hotel.)
Requested: Yes
Summary: You visit Jim in his hotel room.
I park my car in front of the hotel and unbuckle my seat belt. I get out and stretch, slightly tired, as Jim called me late at night. Now, why he would call me this late? I have no clue. Anyways, I walk into the hotel and (check in? tell the lady at the desk that I'm here to see Jim Morrison? Not sure...). I walk down the hall to Jim's room. Finally, I reach his room, at the very end of the hall.
I knock on the door and almost immediately the door is opened, revealing a wide-awake Jim. How he can be this awake at nearly midnight, I'm not quite sure. "Hey Jim. You called?" I say.
He grins and grabs my hand, pulling me in and shutting the door behind me. "Yeah. I have a bit of a situation." he replies.
I raise an eyebrow. "What kind of situation?"
"Well," he starts as he sits on his bed. "I don't exactly have the most patience at the moment, so I'll get straight to the point. I want you."
I sit on the bed next to Jim. "You have me."
With those words, Jim pulls me into his lap and kisses me softly. As seconds go by, the kiss deepens until we're making out. As I shift in Jim's lap, I finally understand why he's so up-and-moving at this hour. He was turned on.
I moved my hips against Jim's, pulling a grunt from him. I pull away from Jim to take a breath. "Do you want this? I have to have your consent before I do anything." Jim asks.
I nod. "Yes, Jim. I want this."
"Good." he replies before laying me on my back on the bed and pulling his pants off. I do the same, pulling my pants and underwear off as well. I take off my shirt and bra, throwing them aside while Jim pulls his shirt over his head.
"I want you to be a good girl and get on your hands and knees.." he tells me. I nod and do as he says, getting on all fours. He holds his hand in front of my mouth.
"Spit."
I spit into his hand and he pulls his hand away, rubbing it up and down on his dick, lubing it up. "Ready?" he asks.
I nod. "Never been more ready."
As soon as I say that, he lines himself up with my entrance and thrusts into me, filling me almost completely in one push. I bite my lip to hold back my moans, keeping in mind that we're in a hotel. Once I've adjusted to Jim's size, he begins moving his hips, fucking me slowly.
"Moan for me, Y/N. I wanna hear you~" he groans out, speeding up his thrusts slightly.
"Mmh... Fuck, Jim.. Feels so good~" I moan softly. He fucks me harder.
"Louder. Wanna hear how much you love being fucked by me~" he demands.
And so, I moan louder, loving the feeling of Jim's dick being buried deep inside of me. He reaches under me, rubbing my clit in quick circles as he fucks me hard and fast. He occasionally grunts, thrusting even faster.
"M'not gonna last long if you keep squeezing me like that~" he moans.
I cry out in pleasure at a particularly hard thrust. "I-I'm gonna c-cum!"
"Cum for me, Y/N..." Jim groans as he continues to fuck me. I moan loudly as I cum all over his cock. A few thrusts later, Jim pulls out and cums on my lower back. I feel him get off of the bed and grab a towel from the bathroom. He comes back seconds later, and wipes me off.
"Let's shower in the morning, 'kay? I'm kinda tired..." I tell Jim. He nods and tosses the towel aside, getting back on the bed and wrapping his arms around me.
Hello, I'm here with a little request, because there's this small idea in my head which I can't get out. What about a fanfic where Jim takes reader for a date and the reader is very shy and nervous about it? It's the reader's first date, with the one she loves and she doesn't want to blew it
This is so cute! Sorry, this came out a bit cheesy, but I hope you like it 😅
Your heart raced with nerves as you walked down the busy city street, careful to maintain your composure. You had always admired Jim, and you were ecstatic when he invited you out on a date. It was your first date ever, though, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was bound to go wrong. You met Jim outside and entered the restaurant, stomach fluttering as the server brought you to your seats.
The table was small and circular, positioned right next to the window. The tablecloth was a rich red and there were two seats positioned across from each other. It looked like a stereotypical date night setup from a movie.
“I’m sorry that the restaurant isn’t fancier," Jim explained, "Everywhere else was booked.”
You mustered up a reassuring smile. “Oh, this is perfect.”
You ordered your drinks and as the waiter left, Jim reached across the table, taking your hands in his. Your heart beating rapidly, you forced yourself to gaze into his blue eyes. A hot blush creeped up your cheeks as you grinned nervously.
“I’m so glad you came tonight,” he said quietly, ”How are you?”
You gulped, heart pounding in your ears. "I'm- fine."
That was all you could get out before you noticed how clammy your hands were becoming. Oh no, you thought, please not now.
Panicked, you tried to dry your hands, pulling them away quickly and discreetly wiping them on your pants. Jim looked at you with obvious confusion and you swallowed, frantically avoiding eye contact. You looked out the window, desperately trying to regain composure as your face completely flushed with red.
Jim awkwardly shifted in his seat, pretending to adjust a button on one of his shirt cuffs as you sat in silence. Every wordless second felt like hours, but you were too paralyzed to speak. It was the first date of your life and everything was going wrong, and you were certain that one mistake was costing you the man of your dreams. Finally, Jim broke the silence with an apologetic sigh.
“I’m sorry if you’re not enjoying yourself.” he mumbled, “I shouldn’t have forced myself like this.”
The knot of dread tightened in your stomach. “No!” you exclaimed, “I love it, I promise."
Jim gave you a small smile, unconvinced. "You don't have to lie if you don't like it."
You shook your head. "The restaurant, everything- it's all amazing. I love you Jim. I'm sorry if I seem rude, or uncomfortable. This is my first date, with you of all people, and I just don’t want to mess this up.”
Jim’s eyes widened.
“You should have just told me you were nervous, I would have understood." His smile gentle, he added, “I wouldn’t have invited you out, anyway, if I didn't love you already.”
You let out a grateful sigh of relief.
"I love you, Jim."
Jim grinned, playfully squeezing your arm. "I love you too, y/n."
