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Aug 12

your reneé x reader was so good can you pleaseee write more 😫

𝑰𝒏 𝑴𝒚 𝑩𝒆𝒅 ꨄ︎ (Renée Rapp X FemReader)

Content: Smut, Dry Humping, Scissoring, Friends With Benefits, Amy Winehouse Cover n references!!!, Idk What Else To Tag

You were standing in the VIP tent, the bass still vibrating through the soles of your boots, when Renee stepped back up to the mic instead of walking offstage.

The lights dimmed to a deep red. She pushed her hair out of her face, grinned that slow, knowing grin she only ever used on you when no one else was looking close enough to notice, and spoke into the mic like she was telling a secret.“Alright. I’m changing the setlist real quick.”

A ripple of confusion moved through the crowd. She let it settle, then continued, voice low and a little husky from singing for almost two hours.“There’s someone in this room tonight who is… very special to me. Someone who has been driving me completely insane for months. In the best way. In the worst way. In every way that makes me want to do stupid things on stage just to watch their face.”

She paused, eyes scanning the VIP area with deliberate laziness until they landed on you. Held. Didn’t move.

“This person is obsessed with Amy Winehouse. Like, properly obsessed. Knows every breath, every crack in the voice, every time Amy’s heart is breaking in the middle of a note. And I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. About how some people get under your skin so deep you start wanting to sing their favorite songs just to see if they’ll look at you the way they look at the music.”

A soft laugh left her. Almost private.

“So I’m gonna do something I don’t usually do. I’m gonna cover a little Amy for them. And I want them to know—this isn’t for the crowd. This isn’t for the cameras. This is for the person who has been in my bed more times than I can count and still pretends we’re just friends who fuck. The person who leaves marks on my neck and then acts like they don’t own me the second the door closes. The person who is standing right there in the VIP tent looking at me like they already know exactly what I’m about to do to them later.”

She tilted her head, still staring straight at you, and the corner of her mouth curved sharper.“In My Bed,” she said simply. “Because some of us never really leave it.”

The first soft notes of the guitar drifted out. Renee closed her eyes for half a second, then opened them again and locked them on yours as she started to sing—slow, intimate, like she was already between your legs and every word was meant only for you.

The first lines left her mouth slow and velvet-rough, her eyes locked on yours like she was singing straight into your mouth instead of the mic.

“Wish I could say it breaks my heart Like you did in the beginning…” She rolled her shoulders back, one hand sliding down the mic stand as her hips shifted in a lazy, deliberate circle. The movement was small, almost private, but you felt it in your stomach. The way she moved was the same way she moved when she was on top of you controlled, teasing, already knowing exactly how wet she was making you. “It’s not that we grew apart A nightingale no longer singing…”

She stepped closer to the edge of the stage, boots planted wide, and let her free hand trail down the front of her own thigh. Just once. Slow enough that you could track every inch. Her gaze never left yours.“It’s something I know you can’t do Separate sex with emotion…”

A small, wicked smile curved her lips as she delivered the next lines, voice dropping lower, almost spoken.“I sleep alone, the Sun comes up You’re still clinging to that notion…”

She rocked her hips again, slower this time, the motion rolling through her body like she was already grinding against you. The crowd screamed, but she wasn’t performing for them. She was performing for the girl in the VIP tent who had been inside her last Tuesday and still pretended it didn’t mean anything.“Everything is slowing down River of no return Recognise my every sound There’s nothing new to learn…”

Renee’s eyes darkened. She dragged her tongue across her lower lip between lines, then kept singing, voice thick with something that wasn’t just the song.

“You’ll never get my mind right, like two ships passing in the night In the night, in the night Want the same thing when we lay Otherwise, mine’s a different way A different way from where I’m going…”

She turned slightly sideways so the stage lights caught the curve of her waist, then looked back over her shoulder at you deliberate, filthy before facing forward again and locking eyes once more.

“Oh, it’s you again Listen, this isn’t a reunion So sorry if I turn my head Yours is a familiar face, but that don’t make your place safe In my bed, my bed, my bed…” Her free hand rose and brushed over her own collarbone, fingers tracing the path she always made you kiss. The movement was pure provocation. She knew you were watching. She knew your thighs were pressed together. She knew exactly what this was doing to you.

She kept going, voice softer now, almost intimate even through the speakers.“I never thought my memory Of what we had could be intruded But I couldn’t let it be I needed it as much as you did…”

Renee’s hips rolled again, slower, filthier, like she was already fucking the air between you. Her eyes stayed on yours through every single word.“Now, it’s not hard to understand Why we just speak at night The only time I hold your hand Is to get the angle right…”

She finished the last line with a small, breathless laugh into the mic, still staring straight at you, and the look she gave you said everything:

“I know you’re wet. I know you’re thinking about my bed. And I know you’re going to be in it the second this show ends”

The final note still hung in the air when the lights cut to black.

You didn’t wait for the crowd to clear. You moved the second the house lights came up, slipping past security with the badge Renee had given you weeks ago, the one that said plus-one in a way that felt more like mine. The back exit was already open, a rectangle of cold night air and cigarette smoke. You leaned against the brick wall just outside, heart still hammering from the way she’d looked at you the entire song.

Five minutes later the door swung open.

Renee stepped out in the same stage outfit, hair damp at the temples, cheeks still flushed from the lights. She was laughing at something one of the crew said over her shoulder—until her eyes found you.

The laugh died.

She didn’t even finish the goodbye. She just walked straight toward you, boots clicking on the concrete, that same slow, knowing look from the stage still burning in her eyes.

You didn’t let her speak.

The second she was close enough, you grabbed the front of her shirt, yanked her in, and kissed her like you’d been starving for days. Your mouth crashed against hers, open and desperate, tongue sliding past her lips the moment she gasped. You felt her stumble a half-step from the force of it, then her hands were on your waist, gripping hard, pulling you flush against her as she kissed you back just as filthy.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was the kind of kiss that said I heard every single word you sang and I’m about to ruin you for it.

Renee made a low sound against your mouth—half groan, half laugh—and bit your lower lip hard enough to sting. You answered by shoving her back against the brick wall, one thigh sliding between hers, and she let you, hips already rolling into the pressure like she’d been waiting for this exact moment since the first note of the cover.

When you finally pulled back just enough to breathe, her lips were wet and swollen and she was smiling that dangerous little smile. “Fuck,” she whispered, voice wrecked. “Took you long enough.”

You pulled back just enough to look at her, lips still brushing hers, breath uneven.“Wow,” you murmured, voice low and rough. “You really said the ‘angle right’ part out loud. On stage. In front of thousands of people.” A slow, wicked smile tugged at your mouth. “I mean… scissoring is not that hard.”

Renee’s eyes flashed. She let out a short, breathless laugh and tightened her grip on your waist, pulling you even closer so your bodies were pressed flush from chest to thigh.“You say that ‘cause you’re a fucking top by heart,” she shot back, voice dripping with challenge. Her thigh pushed deliberately between yours, grinding just enough to make her point. “Always so sure. Always so ready to take control.”

You didn’t answer with words. You kissed her again—harder this time, slower, dirtier—sliding your tongue against hers like you already knew exactly how she tasted when she was losing the argument. When you finally broke the kiss, your lips stayed against hers as you whispered,

“And you’re a fucking pillow princess.” Renee’s breath hitched. For a second she just stared at you, pupils blown, then a dark, delighted grin spread across her face.“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” she promised, voice thick. “The second we get somewhere with a door that locks.”

You barely made it to the hotel.

The second the black car door shut, Renee’s hand was already between your thighs, fingers pressing hard against the seam of your jeans like she was trying to feel how wet you’d gotten during the entire drive. You shoved her hand away only long enough to yank her into another filthy kiss, teeth and tongue and the low sound she made when you bit her bottom lip again.

By the time the car stopped under the hotel canopy, both of you were breathing like you’d run there.

You pulled the black baseball cap lower over your eyes. Renee did the same with hers, sliding on a pair of dark sunglasses even though it was almost midnight. You mirrored her, the lenses hiding the way your pupils were still blown from the way she’d been looking at you since the stage.

The lobby was quiet. Too quiet.

You walked side by side toward the front desk, close enough that the backs of your hands brushed with every step. Renee’s pinky hooked around yours for half a second—quick, secret—then let go like nothing had happened. The receptionist looked up with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, the kind of look that said she recognized the silhouette even if she couldn’t see the face.

Renee slid a black credit card across the counter without taking off the sunglasses. “One room. High floor. As private as you’ve got.”

Her voice was steady. The only giveaway was the way her thigh pressed against yours under the counter, deliberate and warm.

You didn’t speak. You just stood there beside her, heart hammering, already imagining how hard she was going to shove you against the door the second it locked behind you.

The second the hotel door clicked shut behind you, you didn’t even wait for the lights. You grabbed Renee by the front of her shirt, spun her around, and kissed her like the entire night had been building to this exact second. Your mouth crashed against hers—hungry, open, messy—tongue sliding past her lips the moment she gasped. She tasted like the stage, like adrenaline, like every filthy look she’d given you during that song.

Renee answered by shoving you backward until your shoulders hit the wall. Then she climbed you.

One leg hooked around your hip, then the other, and suddenly she was wrapping herself around you like she belonged there—weight solid and warm, thighs tight against your sides. Her hands buried in your hair and pulled, hard enough to tilt your head back and make a sharp sound leave your throat. She used the angle to deepen the kiss, grinding down against you as she licked into your mouth like she was already fucking you with her tongue.

“Fuck—look at you,” she breathed against your lips, still gripping your hair, still rolling her hips in that slow, deliberate grind. “Coming in here acting like you’re in charge… and the second the door locks you’re already letting me climb you.”bShe tugged your hair again, sharper this time, and kissed you even dirtier—biting your lower lip, sucking on it, then sliding her tongue back in like she was claiming every inch of your mouth. Her body pressed flush against yours, heat and pressure and the soft sound she made when you gripped her ass to hold her up.

Neither of you had even turned the lights on yet.

You didn’t make it three steps toward the bed. Renee’s mouth was still on yours when her weight shifted and both of you went down hard onto the mattress, the impact knocking a breathless laugh out of her that you swallowed immediately. She landed half on top of you, thighs straddling one of yours, and the second your backs hit the sheets the clothes started coming off like they were on fire. You yanked her shirt up and over her head without even breaking the kiss. She did the same to yours a second later, tossing it somewhere behind her. Your hands went straight to the button of her stage pants while hers worked open your jeans, fingers clumsy and urgent, both of you breathing hard against each other’s mouths.

“Fuck—get these off,” she muttered, voice rough, already shoving your jeans down your hips. You lifted just enough for her to drag them lower, then returned the favor, peeling her pants down her thighs while she kicked them the rest of the way off. Her underwear came next—yours too—pulled down in the same frantic motion until there was nothing left between you but skin.

Renee sat up just long enough to unhook her bra and throw it aside. You did the same, and the second your breasts were bare she was on you again, pressing you back into the mattress, bare chest to bare chest, the heat of her skin making your stomach tighten. Her mouth found your neck, then your collarbone, then lower, kissing and biting as her hands roamed every newly exposed inch of you.

You tangled your fingers in her hair and pulled her back up for another messy kiss, hips already rolling up against hers. She answered by grinding down hard, the slick heat of her cunt sliding against your thigh, and the low, filthy sound she made into your mouth told you she was just as gone as you were.

Your hands slid down to Renee’s ass, gripping hard as you shifted both of your bodies on the bed until her thigh was hooked high over your hip and your cunt was pressed flush against hers. You guided her with firm pressure on her cheeks, pulling her tighter, rolling your hips up so the wet heat of her slid perfectly against you. The first real grind made both of you gasp.

“Fuck—look at this,” you muttered against her mouth, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass as you set a slow, deliberate rhythm. “I love your fucking ass. Love how it feels in my hands when you’re grinding on me like this.”

Renee let out a broken sound that was half laugh, half moan, and dropped her face into the curve of your neck. Her lips parted against your skin, kissing you there—open-mouthed, wet, messy—while her hips started moving with yours. Every time you pulled her closer by the ass she answered with a sharper roll, cunt sliding against cunt, slick and hot and perfect.

She kissed your neck again, harder this time, teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear as she breathed,“You’re so fucking obsessed with it…”

You squeezed harder in answer, guiding her into a deeper grind, the wet sound of the two of you scissoring already filthy in the quiet room. Renee’s mouth stayed on your neck the whole time—kissing, biting, sucking—while her hips kept following every pull of your hands like she couldn’t get close enough.

Your hands stayed locked on Renee’s ass as you started moving her properly—pulling her hips into yours in a steady, filthy rhythm, forcing her cunt to drag against yours over and over. Every roll of your hands made her grind harder, the wet heat of her sliding perfectly against you, slick and hot and so fucking good it made your stomach clench.

Renee’s head dropped back for a second, a broken moan tearing out of her throat.“Fuck—yes—”

You kept going, guiding her with both hands, using the grip on her ass to control the angle, the pressure, the exact way her clit rubbed against yours. The wet sound of the two of you scissoring filled the room—obscene, rhythmic, getting louder with every thrust of your hips.

Renee’s moans turned sharper, higher. She braced one hand on the mattress beside your head and started meeting every movement you forced on her, grinding down hard, chasing the friction like she was already close. You answered with a low, ragged sound of your own, head tipping back into the pillows as the pleasure built fast and dirty between your legs. “God—Renee—”

She moaned again at the sound of her name, louder this time, almost desperate, and dropped her mouth back to your neck, panting against your skin while her hips kept moving exactly the way you were making them. Both of you were loud now—unrestrained, filthy, moaning like the only thing that existed was the wet slide of cunt against cunt and the way your hands kept pulling her tighter, harder, deeper into the grind.

Your hands stayed locked on Renee’s ass, keeping that filthy grind going, but you lifted your head and dragged your mouth down the center of her chest. The second your lips closed around one of her nipples she made a sharp, broken sound and her hips jerked harder against yours.

You sucked. Slow at first—tongue circling the tight peak, lips sealed around it—then harder, pulling it into your mouth the way you knew made her lose control. Renee’s reaction was instant. Her movements turned hungrier, more desperate; she started grinding down on you with real force, cunt sliding against yours in short, urgent rolls while you kept sucking.

“Fuck—don’t stop—” she gasped, one hand flying to the back of your head to hold you there.

You switched to the other nipple without breaking the rhythm of your hips, sucking just as hard, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Every pull of your mouth made her move faster, wetter, the sound of the two of you scissoring turning even filthier. Her moans spilled out louder now, unrestrained, and she kept rocking against you like she couldn’t get enough friction, couldn’t get close enough. You kept your mouth on her, sucking and licking while your hands forced her hips into that perfect, relentless grind. Renee was shaking above you, thighs tight around your hip, every movement of her body growing more frantic the longer you stayed latched onto her nipples.

Renee’s hips were moving wild now—short, desperate grinds that kept her cunt sliding hard against yours while you still had your mouth latched onto her nipple, sucking like you were trying to pull the orgasm straight out of her. Your hands never left her ass, forcing her tighter, deeper into the wet friction until the sound of the two of you was pure filth.“I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—” she choked out, voice breaking.

You didn’t answer. You just sucked harder and rolled your hips up to meet every frantic movement she made.

The first pulse hit her like a shock. Renee’s whole body locked, a broken cry tearing out of her throat as she started coming—hard, shaking, cunt clenching and then releasing in a sudden, hot gush that soaked your thighs and the sheets beneath you. The feeling of her squirting against you dragged you over the edge with her.

Your orgasm slammed through you a second later. You moaned against her breast, hips jerking as you came just as hard, your own release spilling out in messy pulses that mixed with hers. The wet heat between you turned filthy and overwhelming—both of you squirting, grinding through it, shaking and moaning while the sheets grew soaked under your joined bodies.

Renee kept moving even as she came, riding out every wave against you, her forehead pressed to yours, breath ragged and broken. You held her through it, hands still gripping her ass, bodies locked together while the last aftershocks kept making both of you twitch and spill a little more.

Neither of you could speak for a long moment. Just heavy breathing, the wet sound of the mess you’d made, and the way her body stayed draped over yours like she had no intention of moving anytime soon.

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