[SMUT WARNING!]
He had seen flames immediately. Being paired with Sal already meant he was going to lose (unless the people in the room really pitied him and his miserable attempt to explain what the hell had happened to the 'rouge gay' who had been swept ashore several years before this so-called establishment had been overtaken by them) but the second they had introduced the 'How Not to Treat People on the Grounds' slide, Joe had known he would get irritated. First his sister, and now you.
"You don't want to be harassing anybody. And if you touch somebodyinappropriately," Brian pauses on the screen, turning to you and sliding a hand down your rear, teeth locking over his lower lip as he gives you a firm squeeze. The discomfort on your face, though feigned, makes Joe's heart constrict, a feeling of fire in his gut setting his lips into a tight line. "Don't be surprised if you get punched in the face!"
And then Murr had walked onto the scene, his mouth mere centimeters from your ear. You had made an exaggerated shuddering motion, the man's arms coiling around your stomach before he presses a single kiss to your neck. At this point, the Joker pulls away and says: "You don't wanna be touching people without their consent, stupid!"
The pair had brought their arms back, had slapped you on the rear at the same time, one hand per cheek. The sound resounds in Joe's head, has him seeingred as you tense up on the screen.
"Don't do it!"
Needless to say, he loses the challenge with his tongue barely caught between his teeth when he goes back into the back room. And seeing you laughing with Q and Murr? Well that just adds insult to injury.
"About the presentation," Joe speaks up as he unlocks the door, letting you in whilst you roll your eyes and kiss his nose before sliding through the hall and hanging your coat up. "That wasn't without your ok, right?"
"C'mon, Joey," you reply, a little sardonically as your hands move to cross over your chest. Coat discarded, lips pulled into a tight little frown, you break out into a giggle as he peels his scarf from around his neck and looks over at you. "You think I'd not break their faces if they touched me like that without my ok?"
Those words bring a somewhat cruel pang of laughter from the man. He loves his friends more than anybody - except you. When you close in and wind your arms his neck, Gatto has half a mind to pull away and slink off to sulk for a couple of hours... but then you lean in and catch his lips in a quick kiss before pulling back and raising your eyebrows in that gorgeously mock-judgemental way of yours.
"You're not jealous, are you?"
Joe scoffs, leans in once more and kisses you more fully, arms winding around your back as he sighs against your lips. And he'd intended to leave it there - but the images attacking his subconscious, the slam of the other men's palms against your backside, the ghost of Murr's lips on your neck, the phantom fingers of Q delivering a squeeze hard enough to elicit a sound from you, have him kissing you harder, walking you back into the wall as his tongue forces its way past your lips.
Surprised by his growing intensity, you pull away and murmur his name to bring him back to earth; but you lose yourself when his lips are against your neck, in the same spot Murr had been, sucking flesh hard enough to leave a mark. You lean back into the wall, work your hands up the back of his neck and tug his hair lightly. He growls, and primitively at that: a sound that turns you on immensely.
"Mm, Joe, are you punishing me?" you breathe, bringing his face to meet yours in a sloppy kiss, his breath heavy as he begins to walk you into the living room, sitting down and bringing you into his lap.
"No," he whispers, a hand sliding down to your ass and squeezing hard. You moan for him, lips by his ear so as to evoke even more of that delicious intensity from the man as he bends you over his knee. Arms shoot out to make sure you don't slam against the ground (and he'd anticipated that, the cheeky bastard). Feeling your pants and underwear being pulled down your legs, you crane your neck over your shoulder and stare at him helplessly. He heatedly looks down at you. "I'm reclaiming you."
"You can't just– a-ah!" A hand flies over your mouth to conceal the high-pitched squeak that passes your lips as his hand slaps your ass. With stunned astonishment, you lay there in silence, feel his palm stroking over the spot with care that has you bristling under his touch. He does it again, your hands unable to remain over your mouth as you sag to one side; supporting yourself once more, you bite your lip and try to keep quiet.
"I don't know, [Y/N], it seemed like you were enjoying it–" Joe murmurs, palm landing smack against your flesh once more. You groan low in your throat, feel his free hand slide down to your throat, thumb turning your jaw up to look at him. You're glowering, but your cheeks display embarrassment and arousal galore as he stares down at you. "Maybe you should ask Q to treat you this way instead."
"Don't be stupid– fuck!"
His stare doesn't waver as he slaps you again, ass sporting a bright red hand print as he strokes the flesh soothingly and purses his lips at you. The idea that you're being petulant, tiresome, you're angry to admit that it makes you wetter, a soft gasp passing your lips as his fingers leave your throat and stroke your entrance. Fingertips dance along your slit, eyes glancing to the mark on your ass before he inserts fingers inside of you.
All you can do is moan uselessly, arms shaking as he fucks you with his fingers, dripping wet core accepting him whole and aching for more.
"Yes, yes– more, Joe, more–"
His palm flattens against you, forefinger pressing against your clit before he pulls away altogether - making you whine in protest - before he unbuckles his belt, unzips his fly and takes his rock-hard shaft out of his pants. Joe lets you get up, adjusts you on his lap and you sink onto him before he says so, tearing an off-guard groan from his throat that has you leaning in and scraping teeth down his throat, fingers digging into his shirt-clad shoulders.
Your lips travel along his jaw, his hands slipping to your ass to squeeze each cheek roughly as you descend onto his hard length again and again, brow leveled off in a dark concentration as he thrusts his hips upwards and into you.
"Want it?" he croaks, voice thick and dripping with seduction as he forces you chin up with a free hand and kisses you hard. Your nails scrape down his neck, leave marks, and all he does is moan, motions speeding up. "Need it?"
"Fuck me–" you order, before your voice cracks all together and you repeat it in a tone so pleading he takes pity on you and reaches between your bodies and stimulates your clit with a firm thumb. Throwing your head back and feeling your neck being assaulted by nips and kisses and bites that search for sounds he knows he can elicit from you, you cling to him for dear life as he pounds into you impossibly hard.
"Don't you ever agree to let them touch you again. Nobody touches you like that except me, got it?" His firm tone, coupled with his hard thrusts, has you bucking into him, ragged moans dragged from your throat as you scream that you won't, that he's the only one who can make you feel this way, that you needhim. "Now tell me that you're mine."
"God, I'm yours! Nobody could make me feel this way, Joe, so just–!" But your words are cut off by a scream of his name, cum dribbling down your thighs as your explosive finish has you seeing stars and fireworks and flames. He's whispering dirty things, coaxing further spurts of release from you as his thrusts become sloppy and slow, a mess of euphoria overtaking the pair of you as you ride your highs out.
"Oh fuck oh fuck– God, [Y/N], you feel so good, baby..." Joe hisses low in his throat, clinging to you as he eventually begins to calm down. The continuous groans and heavy breaths have you collapsing into his chest, head craning so that you can kiss his jaw and close your eyes. Breathing him in, inhaling the very essence of the man you adore... it's almost too much for you.
He pulls out of you, listens to your hard breathing as he strokes your back with contentment.
"It was never a debate that I was yours, asshole," you pant, though a breathless smile stretches your lips. Your lover chuckles, turns his head and kisses you softly before pulling his head back and raising his eyebrows at you.
"And don't you forget it."