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ladycaramelswirl · 6 months ago

Text

Tease

Aaron Hotchner x girlfriend reader

Summary: Hotch is a workaholic and you’re just… helping everyone out (mouth fucking him senseless). Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: reader is kinda bratty 🤭 Hotch is canonically a giggly kisser and weak to teasing, sooo… I did what I had to do. Idc. Porn no plot. warnings/tags: adult content, mdni. Sex in public? Don’t do this at your workplace guys. No use of y/n. Praise kink if you squint.

enjoy 🤍

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You wait until everyone’s distracted to slip into Hotch’s office and close the door behind you. He smiles at your presence.

“Hello”, he says softly.

You walk over to seat yourself in his lap and he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady.

“Want to do something fun?”, you tease, playing with his tie. He looks at you apologetically.

“Honey, I have so much work to do”.

Lying workaholic. He needs a break and you both know it. You give him a playful shove.

“No you don’t. You’ve already finished everything for today. Let’s go home”, you insist. He rubs his thumb against your hips.

“I know, but I want to get this extra stuff done today”, he says, taking your hand off of his tie to kiss it.

You take the other hand and palm him through his trousers and he groans. You grin, sliding in closer and grinding against him. He doesn’t do much to stop you, losing himself in the movement of your ass on his cock.

“L-look”, he stammers, his breath hitching in pleasure. “Maybe later we can-“

He stops talking as you unbutton your blouse to reveal your breasts, held in place by lacy black lingerie. He groans into your neck and you grin, feeling his cock swell under your hips. You lean in to put your lips to his ear.

“Want to see the matching underwear?”

His eyes immediately darken in interest, and he practically picks you up and places you on his desk. Giggling, you unbuckle his belt.

He smiles as he leaves soft kisses down your neck.

“You’re so perfect”, he murmurs into your skin.

It almost makes you feel bad to push his face away start buttoning your shirt back up. He frowns.

“What are you doing?”

You smile at him not-so innocently.

“I thought you had to work?”

He smirks.

“If you don’t take off your skirt right now-“

A rap on the door makes you both freeze.

“Agent Hotchner? It’s Anderson. May I come in?”, a shaking voice asks.

You look down at your half open shirt and his unzipped trousers. Shit.

You push Hotch into his chair and crawl under his desk. You hadn’t exactly told anyone you’re dating yet and this is not how you want them to find out. So somehow you find yourself on your knees in front of Aaron’s cock, with an agent only 10 feet away.

Hotch straightens his tie and you settle into a slightly more comfortable position. The precum from when you were grinding on him earlier glistens in front of you. You feel yourself throb at thought of it in your mouth.

“Yes, come in”, Hotch calls out.

You pull his chair closer into the desk. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help but run your tongue up from the base to his tip, lightly sucking the head. Hotch takes a sharp inhale, barely stifling his gasp. You grin as you slowly lower your mouth onto his cock and see him grab onto his desk for dear life. This was what he gets for refusing to go home on time.

Anderson walks in, his anxious hands fiddling with a file.

“Sir?”, he asks. “I was wondering…”

You hear him shuffle his feet on the carpeted floor. Hotch furrowing his brows in a desperate attempt at a poker face was probably not helping the poor agent’s nervousness. Hotch runs a hand soothingly along the top of your head, trying to signal to you to slow down. It only makes you hollow your cheeks and squeeze the underside of his cock with your tongue, causing his stomach to flex in restraint. The young agent is still stammering.

“Spit it out Anderson”, Hotch grits through his teeth.

From his angle, he can see the way your lips look on his cock and your breasts peeking out from your barely-there bra.

You make sure to catch his eye before taking him all the way all the way to the hilt. It makes your eyes water a little, but the way he has to literally close his eyes to take a deep breath makes it totally worth it.

“I was wondering if I could go home early today?”, Anderson asks. “I know that I’m-“

“Yes. Sure, just go”, Hotch says breathlessly. But your movement makes him frown in an attempt to stifle a moan, which gives Anderson the wrong impression.

“Sir I know that it’s last minute and I should have asked earlier, but I just want to say-“

You use your hands to move with your head up and down his shaft which causes Hotch’s hips to buckle up slightly.

“Anderson”, he hisses. “Go. Home. Now.”

The poor agent scurries away, barely remembering to close the door.

Now without the threat of someone overhearing you, Hotch whimpers, which only makes you move faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, he whispers breathlessly.

He’s desperate to not make any sounds but he can’t help but let out a soft moan. You feel his cock twitch.

“Sweetheart I’m- fuck- I’m going to come-“, he splutters. “God, you’re so-“

You cup his balls and fuck him so good he sees stars, throwing his head back in ecstasy as his cum explodes in your mouth. He’s gripping his chair so tight to keep himself from shouting out your name.

When you’re certain he’s come down from his high, you release him. He brushes your hair away from your face and pulls you up into his lap.

“I can’t believe you just did that”, he whispers.

“You liked it”, you smirk, giving him a kiss. He smiles, but doesn’t deny it as he kisses you back.

“I’m going to get you back for it someday”, he grins.

You raise an eyebrow. He is going down.

“You still haven’t seen my underwear”, you tease. Hotch immediately perks up.

“I’m calling it an early day today! Everyone go home!”, he yells through his closed door. Outside Hotch’s office, everyone looks at each other, confused. They can’t tell if he’s joking and no one moves to get up.

You, however, get up from his lap, seating yourself on his table and bringing your hands under your skirt, slowly peeling off your now soaked underwear. In the process, Hotch catches a glimpse of your glistening cunt.

“If you don’t go home now I’m making you do 2 hours of extra paperwork!”, Hotch barks.

You giggle as you hear everyone frantically packing up their things.

Hotch watches as you drop your underwear to the floor, followed by your shirt.

“You’re going to be the death of me”, he whispers.

“Lock the door”, you tell him.

He looks at you with a glint in his eye, and you know you’re about to get exactly what you deserve for being so naughty.

It’s really only fair that he makes you come so many times he has to carry you to his car.

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masterlist

#criminal minds #bau team #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner smut #i need him biblically

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killerplink · 12 days ago

Text

FRENZY

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Plot: You are so drunk. Tipsy isn't even the right word anymore—you're in that sweet spot: warm, loose, and desperate for him.

Words: 4,7k

CW: established relationship, 18+, smut, drunk sex, praise, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, rough sex, aftercare, domestic fluff

Jason sprawls against the bed, shirtless, hair tousled from where your fingers tore through it earlier. His broad chest rises and falls with steady breaths, but his eyes—dark, heavy-lidded, locked on you—burn. He looks wrecked and so fucking gone for you, jaw tight, lips parted just enough to show how much you've undone him.

Your legs tremble as you straddle his hips, back to him, thighs spread wide over his. His dick is buried deep inside you—thick, hot, stretching you open—and even after all this time, it still steals the air from your lungs.

"Fuuuuck," you moan, head tipping back. "So big, Jay."

Jason groans, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. His cock throbs inside your dripping cunt, and fuck, he loves this—loves watching you ride him like you own him, your pretty pussy clenching around him so tight it has him seeing stars. Creaming all over his dick like that, goddamn.

His voice is rough, strained. "Baby, you're—"

But you're already moving again—rolling your hips slow, savoring the burn, the stretch, the way he fills every inch of you. His cock drags against your walls, stroking all those sweet, sensitive spots inside, making you gasp.

"Shit," Jason breathes, his fingers flexing on your waist.

His thighs tense beneath your hands—strong, solid—and he fights not to thrust up and ruin you too fast, too soon. God, the view is fucking criminal: your ass bouncing, that needy little cunt swallowing him whole. You're so wet, slick noises filling the room each time you grind down, and he can feel it—feel how messy you are, how you're dripping down his length, even without looking.

"Fuck, fuck—" His breath catches as you rock harder, faster, back arching. "Jesus, baby, you're so drunk."

"Mm-hmm," you hum, drunk and needy, grinding down just right.

Jason's head drops back, jaw clenching as your movements speed up—each bounce making your ass jiggle, driving him insane. His hips jerk up to meet you, punching a sharp, broken moan from your throat.

"Goddamn," he rasps.

Fucking perfect. Your cunt squeezes him so good, so fucking good, making his grip tighten, his control slip. Every drag of your pussy is like heaven and hell—hot, wet, and dangerously addicting.

"So good, huh?" you slur, looking over your shoulder with that fucked-out smile he lives for.

You grind down again, angling your hips just right, and he's the one moaning now—deep, guttural sounds that make your stomach flutter. Jason growls, losing it. His hands clamp down on your waist, helping you move, guiding you to bounce faster, take him deeper.

"Just like that, doll. Fuck—yeah, just like that."

"Jay," you whimper, head tipping back, vision blurring. "Fuck, baby, s'so deep—"

"Yeah?" His voice is pure gravel, rough with need. Christ, the way you clench around him, so greedy for his dick. "Tell me how good it feels, baby."

Your breath hitches. God, you love when he makes you say it—makes you talk, makes you own it. Makes you admit just how desperate you are for him, how wrecked you feel with every thick inch stretching you open, leaving you no choice but to surrender to it. You love how it strips you bare, how he doesn't let you hide, doesn't let you play coy, not when you're dripping down his cock, not when your walls are fluttering around him.

It's embarrassing, but in a good way, because you know he's memorized the way your voice shakes when you beg, and you love giving him that—handing over every little piece of your pride until all that's left is you, fucked-out and trembling, just for him.

"Feels so g-good," you moan, hands sliding up to squeeze your tits. You arch into your own touch, whining as you tease your nipples. "You're so big, Jay... fuck, stretching me so good—"

That's it. Jason snaps. His grip tightens, bruising, hips thrusting up to meet you hard. His cock slams into you deep, hitting spots that have you seeing stars.

"Fuck, baby."

His voice is wrecked, but he lives for this: for you, drunk on him, taking every inch like you need it. Watching your pussy milk his cock, so messy, so fucking wet—it's too much.

But you're too lost, too drunk, too needy, and too far gone. You keep fucking yourself on his cock, overstimulated beyond reason—three orgasms already tearing through you, leaving you a shaking, needy mess—but it's not enough. It never is with him. Not when you're drunk like this, mind hazy, body warm, everything buzzing with that sweet, dizzy desperation. You need more.

Jason's got the view of a lifetime: the curve of your back arched perfectly, your ass bouncing as you ride him, thighs shaking from overstimulation. His hands grip your hips, fingers pressing bruises into your skin, and he swears he's never seen anything more perfect.

He can't see your face, but he doesn't need to because he's memorized every inch of you. He knows exactly what you look like when you're lost in pleasure: lips parted in messy moans, eyes fluttering shut, that fucked-out expression that drives him insane.

His jaw clenches. You're wrecked—completely ruined—but you still want it. Still riding him like you'll die if you stop, your thighs trembling, cunt gushing with every bounce. His cum from earlier, thick and warm, mixes with your slick, dripping down over his balls, making a mess of both of you.

"Look at you," Jason grits out, voice a low growl. "Fuckin'—shit, baby—you're insatiable."

His hands slide down, rough palms dragging over your waist, hips, ass. Goddamn, that ass. Perfect. Round, jiggling every time you drop down on him. He can't help himself—smack. His palm cracks against it, sharp and hot, making you yelp before moaning louder, grinding down harder.

Your thoughts are a disaster.

So good—so fucking good—can't stop—don't wanna stop—his dick's so big—God, I'm so full—so full—need more need more need more—

Jason groans, hips jerking up to meet you. "Fuckin'—baby, touch that pretty little clit for me."

His voice is rough, wrecked, commanding. He loves making you do it, especially when you're drunk like this. You're always bolder, shameless and so fucking hot, giving him everything he wants without hesitation. And just like he knew you would—

Your fingers find it. Your swollen, puffy clit, so sensitive it makes your whole body jolt. The second you touch yourself, your pussy clamps down on his cock, tight and fluttering, squeezing him so good it knocks the breath from his lungs.

"Fuck—yes, baby—just like that," Jason groans, voice fraying at the edges.

His grip tightens on your hips, guiding you, helping you ride him faster, rougher. You're moving like a woman possessed, chasing something you can't even put into words—just need need need—

Your moans are wild—loud, messy, filthy. You don't care. Can't. Not when every thrust has his dick grinding against that perfect spot inside, stretching you so wide it borders on overwhelming. God, you're soaked, slick squelching around him, spreading down your thighs, making everything wet, hot, and obscene.

Jason's mind is equally wrecked, focused entirely on how you feel, how you move, how filthy your moans sound. His palm smacks your ass, sharp and satisfying, and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him again.

"That's it, baby," he growls, voice wrecked. "Fuckin' take it."

And you do—God, you do—like you can't get enough.

Jason's chest heaves, sweat slicking his skin. Jesus fucking Christ, he's close, but he can't look away. Can't stop watching the way your cunt takes him, milking his dick with every roll of your hips. And that sweet little clit, that he just knows it's glistening under your fingers, your hand working it just like he told you. Obedient. Perfect.

"Yeah, baby—fuck, keep goin'," Jason growls, voice pure wreckage. "Look at you, ridin' me like you're starving for it. So fuckin' greedy, shit—"

Your body burns, thighs shaking, every nerve ending lit up and sparking. You don't know what's hotter: the filthy things he's saying or the way his cock fills you, dragging against your soaked, sensitive walls. All you know is you need it—you need him.

Your voice breaks on a sobbed moan, head falling back. "J-Jay, fuck, feels so good... 'm gonna—gonna—"

And Jason—eyes locked on where you're connected, where your messy, drenched pussy is wrecking him—just grins, breathless and feral.

"Cum for me, doll."

Your fingers work faster over your clit, desperate, chasing that high that's been simmering just beneath the surface. Every thrust of his cock pushes you closer—deeper, harder, rubbing right against that perfect spot inside. Your body tightens, thighs shaking, breaths coming in broken, high-pitched gasps. Almost there—so close—fuck.

And then it hits you.

Your orgasm crashes over you, a blinding, white-hot wave that steals the air from your lungs. Your pussy clamps down on him hard, squeezing and pulsing around his cock like a vice.

It's intense, overwhelming, sparks firing through your entire body as you sob out his name—"Jay, fuck. Oh my God—"

Your hips jerk uncontrollably, fucking yourself through it even as pleasure burns through you. Your clit throbs under your fingers, hypersensitive but you don't stop, can't—not when it feels this good. Slick gushes around him, soaking his cock, dripping down your thighs in messy, filthy streams. Your mind is a mess—so full of him, so fucking good, can't get enough—

Jason feels it. The way you clamp down on him, how your walls flutter and squeeze like you're trying to pull him even deeper.

"Fuck, baby, look at you—"

His voice is rough, wrecked, and it feeds the fire still flickering under your skin. You keep grinding, riding out every pulse, every aftershock, until your body's trembling, overstimulated and soaked in bliss.

Your breath stutters, hips finally slowing, but your pussy still twitches around him, milking every last bit of sensation.

And you can't stop moaning—messy, breathless, still drunk off him. "So good—fuck, Jay, love your dick—"

Your fingers keep rubbing over your clit, each swipe sending electric jolts straight through you. It's throbbing, pulsing under your touch, but you don't stop—you can't—not when his cock is stretching you open so perfectly, thick and hot, dragging against every sensitive spot inside you.

Your rhythm turns sloppy after a few minutes, hips stuttering, thighs trembling with exhaustion. Jason notices immediately. Of course he does. His hands tighten around your waist, and before you can protest, he pins you in place and fucks up into you—hard, deep, fast.

"Fuck, baby," he growls, voice wrecked.

His thighs flex beneath your hands as you brace yourself, nails digging into his skin. Every thrust punches a moan out of you, high-pitched and desperate. His dick drives into you relentlessly, so deep you swear you can feel it in your stomach.

Jason's brain is a haze of lust—so fucking tight, so warm, clamping down on me like she doesn't wanna let go. Your slick coats him, making everything filthy and wet. He watches your ass jiggle with every thrust, sees how your pussy's creaming all over his dick, and it's driving him insane.

"Jay, fuck, fuck—" You're slurring now, alcohol and pleasure tangling in your head. "So good, so big, baby... fill me up, please—"

That wrecks him.

His pace gets rougher, hips snapping up fast and hard, balls slapping against your soaked cunt. He grunts, jaw clenched tight, chasing that peak. Almost there. Fuck. You're squeezing him so tight, walls fluttering around his cock, sucking him in. He can feel it, you're close again, but so is he.

Then—fuck. He cums.

It hits him hard, shoving his dick as deep as it'll go and holding you there while thick, hot spurts of cum flood your needy, drenched walls. You feel it—feel him, how his cock pulses, how his cum gushes into you, filling you up, sticky and warm.

He groans, deep and guttural, hips jerking through it, fucking you through every wave of his orgasm. His mind blanks out, just you, just this, overwhelmed by how good you feel wrapped around him.

"Shit—baby—fuck," Jason pants, still moving, dragging it out until he's spent, cock twitching inside your soaked, cum-filled pussy.

And you? You're gone.

Still rubbing your clit, whimpering, mumbling out filthy praises between breathless moans. "Love your dick, baby. Fucking perfect, fills me up so good—need it, need you—fuck—"

Your words are messy, drunken, filthy, but he loves it. Loves how wild you get, how shameless you are when you're like this.

And he can't stop watching—your ass bouncing, his cum dripping down your thighs, your cunt still greedily milking him for every drop.

You whimper as Jason stills, his cock buried deep inside you, thick and hot, stretching you out perfectly. Your body trembles, aching, nerves on fire, but it's not enough—you need more. You glance over your shoulder, eyes half-lidded and lips parted, voice barely a murmur, soft and pleading.

"I wanna cum again, baby... please."

Jason doesn't hesitate. He never does when it comes to you.

A low groan rumbles from his chest as he sits upright, one strong arm winding tight around your waist. He keeps you right where he wants you: dick buried inside your dripping, overstimulated pussy, pressing your back flush to his chest. His breath is hot against your ear, lips brushing your temple, and then—fuck.

His free hand slides down, fingers slipping between your trembling thighs. He finds your swollen, sensitive clit and teases, circling it slowly, making you shudder against him.

"Yeah, doll?" His voice is low, rough in your ear. "Still wanna cum again, huh? Greedy little thing."

You moan, hips giving a weak roll, but he pins you in place with ease. His cock stays deep, so deep, pulsing inside your fluttering walls as he drags his fingers through the slick mess leaking from you both. Warm cum oozes out of your cunt, spilling around his cock and dripping onto his thighs, his balls, and fuck, that just makes it worse. Makes you needier.

Jason's fingers stay on your clit—puffy, sensitive, throbbing—and keeps rubbing slow, tight circles, gathering more of the mixed slick. "So hot, baby," he murmurs, lips grazing your temple.

You let out a needy little moan, hips twitching, but his arm around your waist keeps you still. Keeps you right where he fucking wants you.

"So greedy," he murmurs, his fingers pressing down a little harder, rubbing just right. You gasp, muscles tensing, back arching against him. He feels every tiny squeeze, every flutter of your cunt around his cock. "So sensitive, so fuckin' good for me. Keepin' my dick inside this pretty little pussy, squeezin' me so good, aren't you?"

Your head tips back against his shoulder, lips parting, but nothing comes out except a soft, wrecked sound. Your mind is blank—nothing but white noise and Jason Jason Jason. His cock is still inside you, thick and pulsing, stretching you wide as he keeps you there, his fingers rubbing your swollen clit with devastating precision.

His cum leaks from you, thick and warm, dripping down where you're still connected, and Jason sees it. Feels it. His breath shudders, his grip tightening, and fuck—he loves this.

"Look at you," he rasps, dragging slow, lazy circles around your throbbing clit. "So fuckin' desperate. So perfect, baby."

You whimper, thighs twitching, nails digging into his forearm. It's too much—but not enough, never enough. You don't care how overstimulated you are, don't care that your body is trembling, aching. You just need to cum again.

"You gonna sob for me, baby?" Jason's voice is low, teasing, rough as he rubs you harder, just how he knows you like it. "Gonna let me get you there again? Wanna feel you shake for me, doll. C'mon, pretty girl, let me have it."

Jason's fingers don't stop. If anything, he presses harder, rubbing your throbbing clit in those perfect, tight little circles that make your entire body tense, trembling against him. His arm around your waist locks you in place, cock still buried deep in your fluttering cunt, and you're a mess—soaked, overstimulated, clinging to him like you'll fall apart if he stops.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs against your ear, voice like dark velvet, warm breath fanning over your skin. "C'mon, doll. You're gonna cum for me again, aren't you? So good for me. So fuckin' pretty when you fall apart like this."

You sob, your body shaking, legs quivering as you press back into him. "Yes—God, yes—please, baby, I need—"

"Shh, pretty girl," he soothes, nipping at your jaw while his fingers keep working you, relentless and precise. "I know what you need. Let me give it to you, huh? Let me feel you soak my dick, doll."

Your breath hitches, your world narrowing down to the heat coiling in your gut, the burning need tightening, tighter, until it snaps.

Your orgasm hits like a freight train—toe-curling, mind-numbing, ripping through you with such intensity you sob, shaking as your body locks up. Your cunt clamps down on his cock, gripping him, milking him, slick walls fluttering as your vision whites out. Heat floods through you, and then—fuck.

The pleasure crashes into you, violent and all-consuming. Heat pools low in your belly, that molten coil snapping as you moan, sobbing out his name—"Jason, oh fuck..."—and then you gush, your release spilling out around his cock in a sudden, messy rush.

It's hot, wet, and relentless, soaking his lap, dripping down his thighs, splattering the sheets beneath you. Warmth pools under you, spreading between your legs, the slick mess seeping into the sheets.

You can feel it—sticky and slippery, dripping down both of you, coating his skin, soaking his hand where he keeps working you through it. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, the mess spreading as you keep gushing, overstimulation leaving you gasping.

God, he loves this. Loves how fucking wet you get for him. Loves how you can only ever do this when you're drunk—a sloppy, soaked little mess, gushing all over him—and honestly? He doesn't get how that works, doesn't understand why it only happens then, but fuck if he cares. It's hot as hell.

Christ, you're soaking him—his lap, his thighs, the sheets—all of it. He can feel it, warm and sticky, dripping down both of you. Squirted all over his dick, his hand, the mess absolutely filthy.

He should probably be concerned about how wrecked you are—but all he can think about is how you gush for him, how you fall apart so perfectly in his hands. Messy. Soaked. Perfect.

"Fuck, baby—fuck, look at you—"

His voice is strained, hungry, eyes dark as he watches you soak him, his grip tightening when he feels you gush around his dick. His hips jerk up, pushing that thick head deeper, brushing your cervix again just to hear the way you whimper. God, he lives for this—for you losing yourself, cunt pulsing and fluttering around him, slick dripping everywhere.

His fingers don't stop. Slow, deliberate circles on your clit, drawing out every last shudder, every last shake until you're whimpering, nails digging into his arm, fresh tears pricking at your eyes from the sheer overload.

"That's it," Jason murmurs against your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Ride it out, pretty girl. I've got you. Fuck, you're incredible. So messy, so fuckin' hot."

And it's not just the mess—it's you. The way your body shakes, the way you sob through the overstimulation, how your cunt keeps fluttering, clinging to his dick. How you lose yourself so completely, pretty little head thrown back against his shoulder, breath hitching in broken gasps, mind blank except for him.

Jason's fingers slow, easing the pressure on your clit until he's just tracing soft, lazy circles, helping you ride out those last tremors. Beneath you, the sheets are ruined, soaked through. His lap is a mess, cock still buried deep, his own restraint hanging by a thread as he watches you—so wrecked, so beautiful.

"Look at this fuckin' mess you made," he whispers against your skin, smirking against your temple.

His words melt into your overheated skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Your chest heaves, breaths ragged, sob slipping past your lips as your cunt pulses, fluttering helplessly, still aching for him.

"Pretty little thing, soakin' me like that... Fuck, I'll never get enough of you."

Your body melts into him, spent, every muscle trembling, heart pounding against your ribs.

"Hey," he murmurs, voice a low rumble against your ear as he presses a warm, tender kiss to your temple. "You okay, baby?"

His hand soothes over your skin, grounding you while you sniffle, legs weak, cunt still twitching with aftershocks. You can't do anything but nod, body limp, still buzzing with heat.

His dick is still buried deep inside, stretching you wide, and your pussy flutters, oversensitive and soaked. You nod, half-embarrassed, half-overwhelmed, but Jason keeps soothing you, thumb brushing soft along your hip.

After a few minutes, he shifts, careful, and eases you off his cock. You whine, empty and aching, and your body shudders as his length slides out, sticky with both your releases. Cum leaks out of you in a slow trickle, coating your inner thighs, and your stretched cunt twitches, pulsing as air rushes in.

"C'mere," Jason chuckles, guiding you into his arms like you weigh nothing.

You don't even move—you collapse, boneless and wrecked against his chest. His skin is warm, solid, and you nuzzle in, cheek pressed to those broad, muscular pecs.

His hand rubs slow circles along your back, voice soft. "You did so good, pretty girl."

But then—of course—he grins. "Fuckin' soaked the sheets, huh?" he teases.

You groan, pouty and drunk, burying your face in his chest. "Jay... I ruined them.."

"Nah, baby, fuck the sheets, we'll just wash them," he says, lips against your hair, voice satisfied. "That was hot as fuck."

Your sniffles turn into a soft, bashful laugh, still too gone to argue, but Jason? He loves you like this. Soft, fucked-out, messy, curled against him with his cum dripping out of you. His heart is full, mind stuck on the image of your cunt gushing around him, soaking him completely.

You tilt your head up, gaze blurry and soft, lips swollen and pink from how much you've bitten them, your chest still heaving. Jason's eyes drop to your mouth, and—fuck—he can't help himself.

"C'mere," he murmurs again, and before you can think—before you want to—he's leaning down, catching your mouth with his.

The kiss is messy, hot, his tongue licking into you, claiming every soft, sweet sound you let out. You whimper, body melting, and let him, lips parting under his like you were made to. His mouth devours you—warm, demanding, tasting like lust and need, and you moan, the sound spilling into him.

Your thoughts? Fucked. Hazy and lost in him. God, you love him. Love his lips, his hands, his dick, everything. He's everywhere, everything, and you can't think—don't even want to. All you know is Jason. His heat, his taste, the way his hand cradles your jaw like you're precious, even as his tongue fucks into your mouth, hungry and needy.

Jason's head? Gone. Fuck, he loves kissing you. Loves how soft you are against him, how your lips cling to his like you need him to breathe. His chest tightens with it—all that fierce, aching love. God, he loves every inch of you. Your messy hair, your swollen lips, the way he knows your cunt still throbs, sticky and wrecked.

And you—God—you kiss him back, hungry, slow, like you never want to stop. Your fingers curl into his hair, and he groans, hips twitching because fuck, you always get him like this.

His mouth moves against yours—slow, claiming. And you? You let him take whatever he wants. The kiss stretches on, turns messy, filthy, tongues sliding together in a wet, heady tangle.

His dick, hot and rock hard, presses against your belly, sticky with remnants of cum and fresh precum already leaking out, but you don't care. All you want is him. His mouth, his heat, the way his fingers keep you close, holding you like you belong there.

Your drunken mind spins—God, how does he taste this good? How is he still so hard after wrecking you? But then his tongue sweeps into your mouth again, and thinking becomes impossible.

His brain is fucked, caught between how good you taste and how your warm skin drags against his aching dick. God, you're soft, you always are, and the heat of you—fuck. He can feel the smear of slick and cum between you both, messy and hot, and he loves it. Loves how you don't care, how you just keep kissing him, hungry and needy, your fingers digging into his hair.

Your chest presses close, nipples hard and brushing against him, and his dick throbs, precum smearing your skin as you grind up a little without thinking, chasing that heat. Neither of you pull away, tongues sliding, breaths hot and mingled, until your lungs burn. You pant into his mouth, fuzzy, heart pounding, body buzzing from him—his touch, his taste, the love spilling between lust and haze.

And still, you kiss him.

Until you're breathless, lips swollen, hearts racing. Until you both slow, soften, mouths parting with one last lazy swipe of his tongue, his hands steady on your waist, yours tangled in his hair.

His forehead drops to yours, breath warm, shaky. Your mind? Spinning. His thoughts? A mess. And between you? Heat. Love. Need.

But for now... just you and him. Breathless. Close. Jason pulls away just enough to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips soft, breath still warm against your skin. You melt into him, arms curling tight around his torso as your cheek rests against his sticky chest, body still buzzing, heart slowing. His fingers trace lazy patterns along your spine, soothing you with those gentle little touches that always calm you down.

When you look up at him, your eyes hazy, face flushed, and that bratty little pout he loves makes an appearance. He chuckles because he just can't help it—God, you're adorable.

"What do you want me to order?" he asks, voice still rough from kissing you stupid.

Your voice goes all soft, that particular tone you get every time you want food, and he knows what's coming.

"Can we get pizza?" you murmur, blinking up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

He laughs, genuine, fond. "Yeah, baby, we can get pizza."

Your eyes brighten, that tipsy happiness radiating off you like warmth. "With extra cheese?"

"With whatever you want," he grins, thumb brushing your cheek. "Say it and I'll get it for you."

But then your pout deepens, lips plumping up in that way that makes him wanna kiss you all over again. "But we need to clean up first..."

He snorts, shakes his head. "Nah. I need to clean you up first. And the sheets."

His gaze flicks to the bed, still soaked from earlier, and he grins, teasing. Your eyes widen, face heating up, and you whine, "Jay, stop that—"

Smack. His hand lands on your ass playfully, and you yelp, swatting at him with a giggly, half-hearted shove.

"Brat," he says, grinning.

"But you loooove me," you sing-song, drunk and smug, eyes sparkling.

"You know I do, baby," he murmurs, softness bleeding into every word. He leans in, playfully nips the tip of your nose, making you giggle all over again. "C'mon," he says, "let's get movin'."

Later—showered, clean, and still tipsy��you're curled up against him on the couch, a box of demolished pizza on the table, extra cheese and all. You'd insisted on finding something to watch, flipping through garbage TV until settling on some random show neither of you cared about.

He knew you'd fall asleep. Knew it. But you'd pouted when he suggested skipping it, so here you are—your head on his chest, breath evening out, body warm and soft against his. His arm drapes over your shoulders, pulling you closer, and he glances down to find you completely gone, lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

And God... he wouldn't change a damn thing. Not the mess you both made of the sheets. Not the pizza crumbs on the blanket. Not the soft little snores escaping you as you nuzzle in closer, like you're meant to fit there.

This? This is it. You and him. Laughing. Loving. Messy, loud, quiet, bratty, perfect.

Jason smiles, presses a kiss to your hair, and lets you sleep, his heart full.

Yeah, he wouldn't trade it for the fucking world.

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