#jay simmons

ugh seeing him tied up in that movie awoke something in me i fear so im writing about that

…

jay’s wrists pull against the silk, muscles flexing as he tests the restraints.

he’s not struggling—no, he’s letting you have this, letting you take control, but there’s still tension in his body, like he’s fighting the instinct to grab you, to flip the script.

you can see it in the sharp rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers curl and uncurl, aching for something to hold onto.

“look at you,” you murmur, trailing your fingers down the center of his chest, barely touching. his breath stutters. “so fucking pretty like this.” his eyes darken, jaw tight.

“fuck, baby…” he shifts beneath you, the sheets rustling, his hips pushing up just slightly. “don’t tease.”

but you just smile, dragging your nails lower, scraping lightly over his stomach. he twitches at the sensation, biting down on a curse.

“i think i like you like this,” you say, voice softer now, almost thoughtful as you lean down, your lips ghosting over his pulse. “all tied up. all mine.” jay swallows hard, fingers clenching in the restraints.

“yeah?” his voice is rough, wrecked already, and you haven’t even done anything. “then do something about it.” the challenge in his tone makes heat pulse through you, makes you shift just a little, just enough to brush against him in a way that has his head tipping back, a groan ripping from his throat.

you press a slow, open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, your teeth scraping just enough to make him shiver. “fuck,” he grits out. “baby, please.”

his voice is so raw, so desperate, and you feel it everywhere, the way he’s holding himself together by a thread, the way he’s giving in to this, giving in to you. and god, you’re not going to make it easy for him.

you press your palm flat against his stomach, feeling the way it tightens under your touch, how his whole body is strung tight with need.

“please what?” you murmur, watching him struggle to form the words, to admit just how badly he wants it. “c’mon, jay. use your words.”

his head tilts back against the pillow, a low, frustrated sound rumbling in his throat. “need you,” he finally mutters, voice rough. “need you so fucking bad.”