Walk Em Like a Dog
Part 2
Warnings: Sub!JJ, oral (fem!recieving), spanking, hair pulling, idk, a lot of stuff
Word Count: 3,300
Part 1
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The door shuts behind you, the sound of the party fading behind it. JJ’s already there, hands braced on either side of you, mouth on yours, kissing you like he’s been holding it in his entire life. It’s deep and urgent, tongue slipping against yours, breath hot and uneven. You can feel how badly he wants you, the way his body presses close like he’s afraid to leave even an inch of space.
“Are you gonna do everything I say?” you ask quietly.
You pull back just enough to breathe. His lips hover near yours, eyes dark, unfocused, half-lidded like he’s still chasing the kiss.
He doesn’t hesitate. He nods, slow, sure, his voice low and wrecked when he answers. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs. “I’m not sayin’ no.”
Your mouth curves into a smirk.
He smirks back, lazy and heated. Excited beyond belief.
“Lock the door.”
He does it immediately.
You cross the room and sit on the edge of the bed, steady and unhurried, eyes never leaving his. He’s still standing a few feet away, chest rising and falling like he’s trying to remember how to breathe.
“Do you want me to get undressed?” you ask softly.
The question alone does something to him. He's quiet for a second, jaw tightening, eyes darkening instantly and then he nods, a little too fast, then catches himself. “Yeah,” he says, voice rough. “I— yeah. Please.”
You smile at that. You absolutely love the way he looks like hes already falling apart. You can't help but be overwhelmed by how insanely handsome he looks, leaned against the door like it's the only thing holding him up, blond hair all messy from your hands.
You begin to pull off your top, taking your time. His gaze follows every movement. His lips part just a little, jeans tightening significantly faster as he stares at your lacey pink bra, just see through enough for him to see the slight outline of your nipples. When your shirt finally falls to the floor, he breaths out hard through his nose, almost a laugh, like he can’t believe his luck.
“God,” he murmurs under his breath, eyes glued to you. He swallows, throat bobbing.
You reach to the back of your bra, looking up at him just as his tongue slips out absentmindedly and brushes over his bottom lip.
When you finally unclasp it and let it slip away, he lets out a sound he doesn’t mean to—a soft, helpless exhale, like his body’s reacting before his brain can catch up.
“You okay?” you ask sweetly.
He nods, a crooked smile breaking through. “I’m perfect,” he says, completely wrecked. “You're fucking perfect.” He stares at your breasts completely unashamed.
"Thank you," you blush.
You stand then, slow and deliberate, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts and sliding them down your hips. The room feels quieter with every second that passes, his breathing and the bass thumping behind the door the only thing breaking the silence as he scans your almost completely naked body. The body that he'd visualized doing things to a million times— but nothing came close to the real thing.
When you sit back down on the edge of the bed, you look up at him through your lashes.
“I want you to take these off for me,” you say, gently tugging on the edge of your matching lacey panties.
He nods immediately. No hesitation. No question. Just obedience and the pure need to get close of you. To see every inch of you.
He moves toward you and kneels, movements slow and reverent, like this is something sacred. When he looks up at your face, his eyes are hungry but somehow also so soft. Awed. Like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and he can’t quite believe you’re letting him this close.
“I got you,” he murmurs quietly.
His breath catches like he forgot how to take the next one. His eyes drop like gravity pulls them there, and then flick back up to your face, torn between wanting to look and wanting your permission to keep looking.
His hands are warm when he takes slides the fabric down your hips. And then he sees you. Perfect and pink and glistening just for him.
His lips part. He licks them unconsciously, gaze drifting again, helpless to stop it.
“Jesus,” he breathes, awe thick in his voice.
He leans his head against your knee and you run a hand through his hair, heart squeezing. His eyes flutter shut for a moment.
Then he looks up at you again, completely gone. “What do you want?” he asks quietly, voice rough. “Tell me.”
“Want you to kiss me,” you say softly. Then, after a beat, you move a finger down to press it to the center of your folds. “Right here.”
You whimper softly as his lips finally press against your core and he lets out a groan that vibrates straight through your body.
It's exactly what he was hoping you'd say. He nods and begins placing gentle kisses up your thighs, switching from side to side, worshipping you. Teasing in a way that he doesn’t even mean to. He inches closer and closer until suddenly his lips hover just above where you're throbbing for him, warm breaths brushing against you before his eyes flick back up to meet yours.
You hum and thread your fingers through his hair. He can’qt help but smile at the sound, like his one goal in life is to make you feel good.
He runs his tongue up through you experimentally, gently, eyes flicking up to watch your reaction.
"JJ," you breath, leaning back on your forearms to watch him.
He smiles again, harder, gripping your hips and repeating the action. Over and over. Before beginning to swirl his tongue, suck your clit into his mouth and then release it, then nips at you and making you practically squeal.
"Feels so good," you whine. "Keep going, please don't stop."
He doesn't. Not until you're grinding against his face, thighs shaking, letting go against his hungry mouth.
You’re still catching your breath, chest rising and falling as you stare up at the ceiling for a second, overwhelmed in the best way.
He scans your face like he’s checking in like your reactions matter more than anything else.
"Fuck," you giggle, breath ragged. "That was so good, J. You made me feel so fucking good."
He smiles proudly, lips glistening with your slick. "Good."
"Come up here," you say, scooting back until youre completely on the bed.
And he does, gladly, climbing over you and pressing his lips back to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
“Love making you feel good,” he murmurs.
You giggle and ball your fists up in his shirt, pulling him closer. Then you pull back just enough to look at him, smiling. “Take your shirt off.” Then you giggle again. "I've always wanted to say that."
He laughs, a bright, happy sound. “Yes ma’am,” he whispers, already reaching for the hem.
You chew lightly on your lip as he does, humming softly when the fabric lifts and disappears. Your eyes track every inch of his skin, appreciation written all over your face. You reach out immediately, hands sliding over his stomach, his sides, his arms.
He watches you watch him, clearly loving the reaction, his smile turning slower, more confident. “Yeah?” he murmurs.
You nod, fingers tracing muscle like you can’t help yourself. “Yeah.”
Your hand drifts lower, tugging lightly at the waistband of his jeans. “These too.”
"And those." You nod down at his boxers.
His breath catches, but he’s smiling as he nods, already moving, completely willing. Completely yours.
He grins wider. "Coulda asked if you wanted to see it, sweetheart."
And they're gone. And your mouth drops open when you see him hard and throbbing and very much above average. Your eyes flick up to his, smiling wide. "You been hiding that from me this entire time?"
You huff out a breath and reach down to tug on him gently. The noise that escapes him is low and rough, slipping out of him before he can stop it—and the sound alone sends a sharp wave of heat through you.
"You wanna fuck me?" you whisper, just wanting to hear him say it.
He nods. "Yeah, I wanna fuck you. More than anything."
"Good," you smile. "'Cause I need that gorgeous fucking dick in me. So bad."
He laughs quietly, wrecked beyond belief. "You got it."
He pushes inside of you, slowly. Both of you can barely breathe at this point.
"Oh my god," you both say in unison.
As he begins to thrust, slowly, to let you get used to his size, neither of you can help but let out pitiful little whimpers.
The closeness steals the air from both of you. The world narrows to heat, movement, the way your bodies find a rhythm that feels inevitable. Every breath is shaky, every sound a little uncontrolled.
The way he's sliding in and out of you feels too good—full and overwhelming in a way that makes your toes curl and your hands clutch at his shoulders. You gasp his name, head tipping back, the sensation blooming everywhere at once.
He groans softly, forehead dropping to yours, eyes squeezing shut for half a second like he’s holding onto control by a thread. “Okay,” he murmurs, devoted. “I’ve got you.”
“JJ,” you breathe, voice trembling. “Harder.”
He listens. Always does.
He fucks you harder, more confident now and the sound of your moans and skin slapping against skin fills the room. Your breaths turn into little sounds you don’t even try to stop.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “You feel so good. So fucking tight. God, baby—just like that. Takin’ me so goddamn good.”
Your nails dig into his back as the feeling builds, your body responding to every change, every adjustment he makes just to keep you right there. He kisses you between words, like he needs the closeness just as much as the motion.
When you whimper again, he smiles against your mouth, completely undone by you.
"Can you—ah!—can you fuck me from behind?"
He stills and smiles a little. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
You position yourself so that you're face down, hugging a pillow, ass up in the air facing towards him.
He groans without meaning to because God, you’re beautiful.
The thought hits him so hard it almost knocks the air from his lungs. The curve of your back, the way you look when you’re choosing him, open and sure.
He slides himself against your entrance, emitting a quiet, overwhelmed whimper from your lips.
And then he pushes back into you and you have to whine into the pillow as he completely bottoms out.
"Shit," he whispers, tightly gripping your hips. "Feel ok, baby?"
"Mm hmmmm," you nod. "Feels so good. So fucking good."
He begins to thrust again, bottom lip between his teeth in concentration, brows furrowing, hands pulling you against him over and over and over.
You moan loudly. "Oh my god, JJ!"
"I know, holy shit. I know," He groans in return. "Fuck. So fucking sexy like this."
"Want you to spank me."
He does.
"Harder."
He does that too, surely hard enough to leave pink imprint of his hand on your flesh. You yelp loudly, surely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the party if anybody were to be standing outside the door.
"You like that, princess?"
"Yes," you giggle. And then he does it again. "God, yes!"
And again.
"Shit," you gasp, then giggle more, uncontrollably. "Want you to pull my hair," you order, looking over your shoulder, once you slightly regain your composure.
You arch instinctively, a soft, choked sound spilling out of you, and the reaction alone makes him groan. He pulls again, firmer this time, guiding you back into him.
His smile falters into something darker, more focused. “Yeah?” he asks quietly.
When you nod, his hand slides up slowly, fingers threading into your hair at the back of your head. He tightens his grip just enough to make your breath catch.
“That good?” he murmurs, voice rough, chest pressed close.
“Yes,” you gasp. “Just like that.”
He obeys immediately, hand steady, controlled, like he’s learned exactly how much you want. Your back curves under his touch.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he breathes, awe threading through the roughness.
You moan happily, taking everything he's giving you, pleasure soaring through your body but not wanting it to be over for one second.
Then you feel him start to shake.
"Don't come yet," you beg, almost desperate.
"I—I'll try," he laughs. "Been trying."
“I wanna be on top first.”
He doesn’t hesitate to give you what you want. He just exhales a soft, wrecked laugh and lets himself fall back beside you, open and willing, eyes never leaving your face. Like this is exactly where he wants to be—under you, watching.
You take your time climbing over him, sinking down and settling yourself there, moving slowly enough to make his breath hitch.
“You’ve been so good,” you murmur, leaning down just enough that your noses almost brush. “Let me take care of you now.”
Your back curves under his touch, every nerve lit up by the combination of him inside of you and the way he’s watching.
You begin to ride him, going back between bouncing and grinding. He just lays there, mesmerized, moaning, still in disbelief.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he breathes, awe threading through the roughness as he watches your body. Especially the way your breasts bounce with each movement. He reaches his hands up to them, squeezing and then rubbing your nipples with his thumbs. "That's right baby. Love how you're usin' me."
Your hand slides into his hair, fingers tangling at the back of his head, and he lets you guide him without resistance.
"Look at me."
When you pull gently, he follows the pressure, head tipping up until he's looking directly at your face, throat exposed and eyes meeting yours.
The look on his face steals your breath—pupils blown, lips parted, smiling like he can’t believe this is happening to him.
You lean closer, voice low and warm. “Good boy.” You can’t help but let out a quiet giggle at the inside joke.
A breathy laugh escapes him. His hands tighten on your hips and he pulls you down harder against him, moving you faster. And you happily let him guide you now.
You tilt your head, watching him like he’s yours to command. “Look at you,” you murmur. “You love when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”
His lips part wider. He nods, breath shaky, eyes never leaving your face. “Yeah,” he admits, quiet and honest. “I really do.”
Your thumb brushes his jaw, slow and deliberate, making him shiver. “You're doing so good, JJ. Fucking me so good.”
The sound he makes is soft and helpless, as you grind even harder. Impossibly deeper. He leans up to kiss you, deep and desperate, like he’s thanking you with his mouth. You let him for a moment, then pull his hair again, just enough to remind him that you're in charge.
“Tongue,” you tell him.
He obeys without hesitation, lips parting immediately, sticking his tongue out for you. When you lean in, sucking in into your mouth over and over, teasing and slow, the low sound he makes is pure bliss.
You hum against him. Everything feels so overwhelmingly filthy that you don't want to stop but the pleasure is stacking inside you so fast and his breaths are coming out so shaky that you don't know how much longer either of you are gonna last.
"You wanna come for me?"
You pull back from him, mouth parted, a string of spit stretching between the two of your mouths and your breath shudders as you watch him lick your your saliva from his lips. Then he laughs softly against you, forehead dropping to your shoulder for a second like he’s also extremely overwhelmed by it all.
He nods, desperate, voice coming out in a whisper. "Please."
You smile. "Come for me."
His hands grip your ass, hard, grinding you against him needily, whimpering your name, cursing against your neck.
You pull back to look at him, watching him come undone underneath you as you chase your own release.
The moment stretches—breaths tangled, bodies pressed close—until you can’t quite hold yourself up anymore. You stay there for a few moments longer than necessary, perched on his lap, him still as deep inside you as he can go, forehead resting against his as both of you try to remember how to breathe.
He laughs softly, a little dazed. “You okay?”
You nod, smiling, still a little wrecked. “Yeah. More than okay. That was...” You have no idea how to finish that sentence.
"Yeah," he laughs. "It was."
Eventually you slowly slide yourself off him, legs shaky, and tumble back onto the bed with a breathless laugh. He follows right after, collapsing beside you, turning onto his side so he can look at you properly.
His fingers brush sweaty hair out of your face. You do the same for him, pushing his blond waves back and kissing him—slow, unhurried, full of that soft hum that lingers after everything else fades.
"We should do that again," you laugh quietly.
"We should definitely do that again," he agrees.
You squeeze his cheek. "Maybe next time I'll let you be in charge."
He laughs at that and hugs you close, not wanting to stop touching you. Not wanting to not be as close to you as possible. As usual.
After a few minutes, you reluctantly pull your clothes back on, giggling every time your eyes meet. It’s quiet, happy laughter—the kind that keeps spilling out no matter how hard you try to stop it.
When you step back into the party and slip outside, your friends don’t even try to be subtle. They take in the flushed skin, the messy hair, the way you and JJ won’t stop smiling.
“So,” Sarah says slowly. “What were you two doing in there for the last hour?”
“Dancing,” you answer easily.
There’s a beat. Everyone looks at each other.
John B raises a brow. “What, dancing naked?”
Kiara bursts into laughter. "I knew it! I told you guys tonight was the night!"
You and JJ don’t respond. You just laugh at the same time, dropping into a pair of lawn chairs like nothing happened.
Even though everything did.
JJ scoots his chair closer to yours without even thinking about it. You lean your head on his shoulder, familiar as breathing. It’s something you’ve done a hundred times before—but this time his arm tightens around you just a little, like he’s grounding himself.
After a moment, you lace your fingers through his.
He stills.
Not pulling away. Not surprised, just… caught. Like he’s suddenly very aware of every eye on you, of the weight of your hand in his, of what that means. His thumb brushes over your knuckles once, then again. His heart flips in his chest. He exhales through a soft smile you can feel against your hair, squeezes your hand back, proud and a little awed, like he can’t believe he gets to do this.
The party keeps going—music loud, people laughing, the night buzzing the way it always does. On the surface, nothing’s different.
Nobody says anything. They just notice.
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But everything is. And somehow it’s also exactly the same.
Taglist: @daggersanddresses @outerbanksgirly @shayyaps @andrealux21 @wolfwar @obxobsessedbitch1 @maybanksbambi @bambigirl10 @holyfujjj @kookmaeli @moonlitpogue @mmayii
