jj can’t stop copping feels . . .
cw: clingy!boyfriend!jj x reader, SMUT, oral (f.rec), piv, rough-ish, slight size/dom-sub dynamic, manhandling, mild praise/possessiveness.
You were just standing in the kitchen, looking too good for your own damn safety, tiny shorts, tank top, hair a mess and JJ swore you did it on purpose. Because the second he walked into the room, his brain? Gone. Useless. All he could think about was getting his hands on you.
“JJ, don’t—”
But he was already there, already behind you, big hands sliding over your waist, fingers splayed wide, palms rough against your soft skin. His mouth was at your ear, voice low, wrecked. “Baby, you don’t get it, do you?” His breath was hot against your neck. “You walk around here lookin’ like that and expect me to just not touch? Fuck that.”
You gasped when his hands dipped lower, gripping your hips so tight you could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes. “JJ,” you tried, weakly, but you were already leaning into him, his hands swallowing you up.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he groaned, rocking his hips into you just enough for you to feel the hard line of him through his sweats. “Can’t even help it, soon as I see you, my dick’s hard. Just like that.”
His hand slid up, sneaking under your shirt, fingertips dragging along your stomach, higher. “Always gotta cop a feel. Every damn time. You’re just so—fuck—so soft everywhere.”
Your head fell back against his shoulder, your breathing all shaky now, and that just made him worse. His hand cupped your chest, thumb brushing over your nipple, and he felt the way you arched into it, desperate and whimpering.
“Yeah,” he muttered, grinding into you, hands everywhere now, like he didn’t know what to touch first. “See? This is why I can’t keep my hands to myself. You love it.”
You tried to act mad, but your hands were already tugging at his, pulling him closer. “JJ, you’re—”
“—So fuckin’ hard,” he interrupted, turning you in his arms so he could kiss you, filthy and hungry. Lifting you onto the counter while his hands kept wandering, hips, ass, under your shorts, anywhere he could get to. tugging your shorts and panties down in one rough motion, cursing under his breath when he saw you, flushed, needy and perfect.
Your breath hitched as JJ dropped to his knees between your thighs, big hands gripping tight. His eyes were wild, dark and hungry when he looked up at you. “Fuckin’ look at you,” he rasped, voice thick with want. “All spread out for me. My perfect girl.”
And then he dove in. Mouth on you, tongue working you like he was starved, like this was the first and last meal he’d ever have. His hands held your thighs wide, keeping you open. You gasped, fingers flying to his hair, and that just spurred him on. Groaning low, the sound vibrating through you, making you whimper and grind against his mouth.
He pulled back for half a second, lips slick, chin wet, eyes blown. “Yeah? That good, baby? That good bein’ all mine?”
Before you could answer, he was back on you, hungrier, rougher, tongue and lips and teeth, worshiping you and wrecking you all at once. His hand slid up, two big fingers pushing inside you, stretching you out.
“Shit, baby,” he groaned, fucking his fingers into you slow, deep, curling them just right. “So tight. So fuckin’ perfect.” He stood up suddenly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, watching you through hooded eyes as he shoved his sweats down just enough to let out his cock, thick and heavy, already leaking for you.
“Look so good spread out like this for me, baby,” he growled, voice nearly wrecked. “Legs wider, sweets, Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
He lifted your hips with one hand, the other—dragging his tip through your slick folds, teasing you until you whined and begged, until he couldn’t take it anymore. Then, he bottomed out slow, watching your face, watching your body stretch around him.
“JJ—” you whimpered, overwhelmed in the best way.
“Yeah?” He was panting now, hips grinding deep, hands everywhere—your hips, your ass, your waist, your tits, like he couldn’t get enough. “You take it, baby. You take all of me.”
He set a rhythm. Deep, slow, grinding so good it had you seeing stars. “God, I love feelin’ you like this. Love how perfect you are under me. Love how you fuckin’ fit me.” Every thrust had you falling apart, his name a broken prayer on your lips, and he ate it up. Fucking into you harder, faster, stronger, chasing both your highs.
His hand left your hips to reach between you both, flicking at your clit in fast movements, craving the way you fluttered around him at each pass. “Say it,” he demanded, voice rough. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, JJ, I’m yours—” you whimper out, your orgasm pushing your vision into black spots. Your walls clench around him, forcing him to still his thrusts and feel as you milked his dick. He groaned, loud and desperate, hips stuttering as he filled you, warmth spilling deep, hands clutching you tight like he never wanted to let go.
And even after, even while you were both trembling and wrecked and breathless, his hands stayed roaming, tracing your skin, squeezing your hips, brushing your hair back.
“Always gotta have my hands on you,” he murmured, kissing your forehead, your cheek, your lips. “Every damn time, baby. Can’t fuckin’ help it.”
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