#sub jooheon

His lips twitch. He keeps his eyes fixed on something over your shoulder, his jaw tensing ever so slightly, like he's determined not to give you the satisfaction right now. But that won't do. He should know better. Your fingers pause at the chain around his neck.

"Jooheon...?" you coax sweetly. 

His eyes drop to yours immediately. 

There. That's better. 

You smile, small and satisfied, before straightening the chain flat against his chest. "You're so bad at hiding it, Honey." 

He lets out a laugh, but before he can say anything, the director calls everyone back to set. You smile amusingly as you step back, looking him over one more time. 

"Do I look good?" he asks, a hint of a grin still on his face. His eyes linger on yours a little longer than needed. You know how much he loves hearing you say he does. 

"Handsome as ever," you say as you move closer and smooth down a stray piece of hair before lowering your voice so only he can hear. "Go kill 'em, Honey." 

The shoot starts again, and he's back under the lights and cameras, music filling the room. You return to your spot behind the set as you watch him like you always do, half out of habit and half because you just can't help it.

He's a natural, slipping easily into that persona everyone else sees. He's confident, every move full of the charisma he's known for, making it all look much easier than you know it probably is.

He still checks in without really meaning to, a glance here, a quick look towards the edge of the set after a take, like he's searching for something only the two of you ever seem to notice. You've always met him the same way. You know how he gets, you know what he's looking for. A small smile, a nod— just something from you to let him know he's doing exactly what he's supposed to do and that you're watching him. Always watching. 

But there's something about the way he purposefully didn't meet your eyes earlier, how he pretended to ignore what you said... It makes you want to hold back a little bit.

So when he looks over between takes again, you make him wait longer than usual this time. His focus slips for just a moment before you finally give him that smile, slow and deliberate, before he recovers.

But the next time, you don't give him anything at all. You meet his eyes and then turn away, focusing on something else like he doesn't exist to you. 

It only lasts a few seconds before the next take, but it's enough. You see something in him tense before he's forced to hide it, slipping back into his role, but this time without your usual approval, that grounding he always needs from you.

You almost feel bad. Almost. 

The director calls cut, and you head back to the dressing room. Jooheon comes in, shrugging off a jacket and muttering about how many layers one music video scene really needs. You go to him right away, catching the collar of his new shirt before he can mess it up.

The second you touch him, he stills. You don't say anything about it. You don't need to. Your hand slows just slightly as you smooth the fabric flat. "Doing good," you say quietly. 

His eyes snap to yours as soon as you say it, a flash of relief softening his features, his posture loosening. Your hands still at his collar, fingers brushing his skin gently. 

"Wow," you say, tilting your head at just how fast he reacted to that. "You really need me that bad today?"

His mouth falls open a little, a shaky breath slipping out. "You didn't look at me," he murmurs, the words sounding more vulnerable than accusing. "Twice. You just... acted like I wasn't there." His eyes drop to your mouth, then back up. "So yeah. I needed you. I always do."

You hum softly, silently wondering if you should give him a little or let it sit a bit longer, when a voice interrupts the moment.

"Jooheon, we need you back on set!"

You step back, giving him a sweet smile. "Looks like I'm not the only one needed today," you say, lowering your voice. "We'll pick this up later."

You watch him as he heads for the door, and as soon as he reaches the frame, you call out, "Oh, and Honey?"

He turns around, one brow slightly lifted at you. You let your eyes drag down his front, taking in the way his shirt fits, the chain sitting against his chest, before meeting his eyes again. "You look really good." 

You know the compliment hits him harder than any teasing, making him forget his earlier frustration for a moment. He freezes in the doorway, eyes running over you like he's trying to decide if you're rewarding him or setting him up again.

"God, you're dangerous," he mutters, quickly wetting his lips as he fights back a smile, then finally turns and disappears down the hallway. 

The rest of the shoot passes by in a stream of more styling adjustments, coffee runs, and watching him work the set. You keep things professional like you always do, but the tension never quite fades, vibrating just under your skin every time you catch his eye.

By the time everything wraps up, the energy shifts to something calmer, almost a relief. You're packing your bag when you feel a familiar presence behind you. You don't have to wonder who it is. You smile. 

"You ready?" you ask without turning, lifting your bag. 

He grabs it from your hand before it's even off the ground. "Ready for what?" he asks, a soft smirk on his lips.

"To go, of course," you say innocently. "Why? Were you thinking of something else?" You smile at him, winking subtly as you move closer and press a quick kiss that still somehow lingers on his cheek. "Come on, Honey. Take me home." 

He pauses for a second before following, like that simple touch alone undid something in him. He shakes it off, slinging your bag over his shoulder, and sets off behind you. 

The ride home is quiet. Not uncomfortable, just charged. He keeps one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. You glance over, biting your lip as you grab his hand, carrying it over to your thigh instead. You don't let go, your fingers following soft trails across the veins on the back of his hand absentmindedly.

He glances at your fingers and lets out a quiet, amused breath. "So," he murmurs, looking back at the road. "How'd I do today?"

You hum again softly, pursing your lips as you think. "Like... on the shoot? Or are you talking about...?" you trail off, letting him fill in the gaps. 

The corner of his mouth twitches. "You know what I'm talking about." 

You smile, just a little, and shrug. "You did okay," you say, short and sweet.

You feel his hand tighten against your thigh for just a second before he smooths it again. "Just okay?" He asks, glancing at you briefly again. "I feel like I deserve a little more than okay after holding it together while you ignored me all day." 

You raise your brow at him this time. "Oh? You want more than okay, do you?" You lean forward, your breath hot against his ear as he tries to focus on driving. "Then... do better," you whisper.

You sit back down into your seat, placing his hand on your thigh again, a soft smirk on your lips. "I'm waiting, Honey." 

His knuckles turn white against the steering wheel as he shifts in his seat. "You're killing me," he mutters, his voice rough around the edges as he glances at you once quickly. God, you love how easy it is to get him worked up. 

He squeezes your thigh, his fingers burrowing in just enough that you can't ignore it before something flickers behind his eyes. "I'll do better," he says, his eyes turning back to the road as he swallows hard. His foot presses down on the gas at the same time. "Just you wait." 

He pulls into the parking garage, the car jerking to a stop a little harder than needed. You laugh softly as you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Eager, are we?" you tease, but he's already out, the door shutting behind him as he hurries to the other side to open yours. 

"You have no idea," he murmurs, offering his hand to you. You take it happily, and it's impossible to hide the pleased look on your face. He gestures towards the elevator, guiding you over with his hand on your waist. 

You get to his apartment, and he walks in after you, setting your bag down on the counter. You turn to him to say something when he drops down in front of you. You don't even realize what he's doing at first. But then your breath catches when his hands find your ankle, fingers brushing against your skin as he carefully works at the straps, eventually sliding your shoes off. 

He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, his look more gentle now than it was in the garage. "You said do better," he murmurs quietly. His hands slide up, palms grazing over your calves and firmly squeezing. "So I am." 

His eyes meet yours again before he leans in and presses a slow, soft kiss just above your knee. His lips linger there for a moment before he pulls back, thumbs still brushing lightly against your skin. "Is this better now?" he whispers. 

The feeling of his lips on your skin sends shudders down your spine, the gesture alone doing something wildly dangerous inside of you, but you don't let him see just yet. 

You smile softly, one hand stretching out to run your fingers through his hair, gently tugging to lift his head up to you more. "It is," you murmur, more softly this time. "You're getting there." 

His eyes flutter shut for a second, a sigh escaping from his throat as he leans into your touch. A small smile tugs at your lips; you know just how much your fingers in his hair ruin him a little more every single time. 

"Just getting there?" he finally mumbles as he opens his eyes, drawing out a slow exhale like he's trying to ground himself to you. He turns his head, pressing a kiss into your palm before looking up at you with a hazy gaze. "You're setting a really high bar, princess." 

He sits back up on his knees again, leaning forward to rest his head on your stomach, hands on your hip as he breathes you in. "Tell me what else you need... I'm listening." 

"The bar is high because I know what you're capable of, Mr. Lee," you murmur softly. Your hand drifts down, your thumb stroking the skin at the back of his neck there slowly as you take in the sight of him on his knees like this. It's a damn good look on him. 

"Right now..." you say, your voice softer but still steady. "I need you to take me to the bedroom." Your fingers tighten just slightly at the back of his neck, and so does his grip on your hips, before you continue. "And keep this energy."

 You tilt your head, watching him closely. "Think you can do that for me, Honey?"

He lets out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead into you harder, his grip tightening around your waist.

"Yeah," he breathes, his voice a bit rougher than before. "Yeah, I can do that."

He leans back slowly, looking up at you with these darkened, heavy eyes full of something to prove, as he lets go of your legs to stand up. He doesn't pull away. If anything, he crowds you closer, pulling you flush against him.

"Good answer," you smirk, your breath ghosting just barely over his lips. His hand is steady on your back as he starts to guide you down the hallway, keeping you close to him. 

You glance up at him as you near the door, biting your lip. You reach past him to push it open, stepping inside first and pulling him in by the front of his shirt. "Now show me."

He stumbles in after you, and you can't help but laugh softly at him being off-balance for a moment before he recovers, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel and crowd you back again.

He walks you back toward the edge of the bed, your knees hitting the edge, but he doesn't push you down. You can feel his breath hit against your face, his hands settling on your waist to keep you there with him. 

"Show you..." he repeats, his voice in that deep murmur that makes your stomach knot in anticipation. His eyes drop to your lips, then back up. He leans in slowly, giving you time to stop him, testing the boundary he knows you control. "Like this?"

He kisses you, but it's careful. Slow and deep... intentional, like he's waiting for you to take control of it, to tell him if it's enough or if he needs to give you more. 

You kiss him back immediately, your hands coming up to tangle into his hair again, tugging to tip his head back just slightly and making a low groan escape his lips. It's good. It's always good. But careful isn't what you asked for. 

You pull back enough just to speak against his lips. "Careful is boring, Honey," you whisper as you nip his bottom lip teasingly. "I told you to do better, didn't I?" 

For a second, he stills, then something on his face darkens even more. His hand tightens at your waist as he pulls you in again, this time without any hesitation. The kiss is different from the start, deeper, less careful. Like he's done second-guessing himself, needing to prove to you just how good he can listen.

He breaks just enough to look at you, his breath softly huffing against your face. "How's that?" he asks.

You smile, humming approvingly with your eyes still closed while you linger against his mouth. "There you go," you murmur, opening your eyes to meet his. "See? I knew you could do it." 

You don't give him time to respond. You pull him back in, fingers tightening again in his hair as you kiss him more, harder this time. He follows you immediately, gripping you tight at the waist, flushed against him with no space between. The kiss is hungry, all teeth and tongue and spit, deepening more with every touch. 

"That's it," you murmur against his mouth, your voice low. "Don't slow down now." 

He exhales quietly like that alone is enough to undo him, and it only makes him press in closer. You can feel how quickly he slips into it, how easily he gives you everything you're asking for. It's intoxicating. 

You turn, guiding him back until his knees hit the edge of the bed now, pushing on his shoulders just enough that he gets the hint and falls back onto the mattress. You straddle him before he has time to settle, your dress riding up your thighs, trapping him there. 

"God, y/n—" he breathes, a rough laugh slipping out as he stares up at you, his eyes bright with something like awe mixed with desire. His hands find their place on your thighs automatically. "You look so good like this."

"Mmh," you let out, voice low as you start to rock your hips gently over his, feeling him stir more by the second beneath you. "I know what would look even better." 

His mouth twitches, his chest rising and falling fast still. "What's that?" he asks. 

You pull back just enough to sit up on him more, lowering your hands to his that are resting on your thighs, and slowly start to move them underneath your dress. "Your hands on me..." you say softly. "Touching me..." 

You let out a breathy sigh as you continue to move his hands up your sides now, your eyes fluttering shut as his thumbs brush lightly over your ribs. When you open them, he's watching you with a soft yet hungry look, almost like he's waiting for permission. You let go of his hands intentionally, and he doesn't miss a beat. 

His hands slide up the curve of your breasts now, slower this time, paying attention to every little reaction you give him. "Is this what you wanted?" he murmurs, his voice lower but more certain now. 

His thumbs brush against your nipples beneath the fabric, and a soft gasp slips out of you before you can stop it. "Mhm," you breathe, biting your lip and nodding your head. "Yeah." 

He smiles when you say yes, and then he sits up with more intention, wrapping one arm around you to keep you close to him while the other moves to lift your dress completely. You lift your arms instantly, letting him slip it over your head and tossing it somewhere on the floor before his hands are back on you again.

His mouth finds your throat now, pressing hot and wet open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin there. Your eyes shut again as your fingers instantly bury themselves in his hair, keeping him close. "God, your mouth..." you breathe, tilting your head back to give him more access. "So good."

He hums against your skin, the vibrations causing a shiver straight through you and down your back. You pull back slightly to look down at him, eyes dragging over his face, his mouth wet and swollen from your kisses, eyes darkened with arousal. 

You smile, running a finger across his chin. "You're doing so good for me, Honey," you say softly. "But I want to see the rest of you, too."

You tug at the hem of his own shirt now, pulling it up. "Off." 

He doesn't have to be told again. He pulls back, lifting his shirt up and over his head in one quick second, adding it to the growing clothes pile on the floor. He sits back on his hands, like he's letting you look your fill, and oh, you do. Your eyes drag over his body, his toned chest, that perfect dip in his shoulders that was made for your teeth to sink into. He's a work of art, truly. 

There's a slight grin tugging at the corner of his mouth when he pushes up deliberately, letting you feel him hard and heavy beneath you. "I'm all yours, princess," he says. "Just tell me what you want me to do... I'll do it right."

You smile at him. "There's my good boy," you murmur, your voice warm as your fingertips brush over his skin, sliding down his chest.

You lean in, pressing a painfully slow and soft kiss just above the tattoo on his stomach, your lips lingering as his muscles jump beneath you.

"I know you will," you whisper, dragging your mouth up to his neck.

His grip tightens where his hand rests on you, like your approval alone is enough to push him forward. Then he moves, his hands sliding to your hip as he guides you back onto the mattress. 

His fingers come to trace the edge of your panties, slowly but intentionally, giving you a look that comes across more like a question.

You raise your brow at him, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand exactly where you want it. "Don't make me wait now, Honey," you murmur, voice breathier than intended. 

He smirks as he gently pushes the fabric to the side. "Never," he mutters, more to himself than you, and then he slowly drags his finger through the wetness that's waiting for him.

Your mouth falls open as he circles your clit slowly and tests the pressure, watching your face for every reaction, noting every time your breath catches a little more. Your hips buck up into his hand, chasing after him, your breathing getting heavier by the second. 

"Mm," you breathe, "that's it... just like that." 

"Like that?" he repeats, always so eager to get it right for you. You moan in response, nodding your head as he slides through until he pauses just long enough to push two fingers inside you slowly, curling them instantly to find that spot that always makes you—

"Fuck," you gasp, hips lifting to meet him more. His thumb presses down on your clit, moving in tight circles that make your head spin, his fingers pumping into you at a steady pace. 

You grab onto his other forearm, nails digging into his skin. "You feel amazing," you murmur softly, breath still uneasy as you look him in the eyes, gently squeezing his arm. "But I think I'm ready for more than just your fingers now." 

Your hand comes up to trace his cheek, then to his lips, your fingers brushing over them gently. "You've been so good for me, Honey," you say, your voice sinking low. "Do you want to be inside me?" 

You can practically see how hard that question hits him. It always does. His lips part softly. 

"Yeah," he breathes out, his voice rough and wrecked already. He leans into your touch, pressing a soft kiss into your fingertips before they leave his lips. "God, baby, you know I do. I want it so bad." 

He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, earning another soft gasp from you as you watch him stand up. He strips the rest of his clothes off, the desperation in his movements impossible to hide, before he's back, hovering over you. 

"I'm ready," he says, his voice just above a whisper. "Please."

You smile up at him, reaching out to pull him down closer to you, crushing your lips together in a messy, lingering kiss. 

"Then give me what I need," you murmur against his mouth, opening your legs invitingly. You can feel him, hard and thick against you, the anticipation making you ache. "Show me how bad you want it." 

He doesn't waste any time. He pushes into you slowly, his teeth gritting at the tightness as a groan escapes from his chest. He buries his face into your neck, your arms reaching around him and holding him there as he sinks deep inside you. 

"Fuuuuck.." he breathes, pulling back just enough so he can push in deeper again. "You feel perfect." 

You gasp, back arching off the bed as he drags over that perfect spot, filling you completely. His eyes drop to your face when he hears the gasp, studying you as he does that motion one more time, waiting for your reaction again. "Does that feel good?" He asks, starting a steady pace now. "Tell me, baby."

Your fingers tangle in his hair, bringing him down closer so that his forehead rests on yours gently. "It feels amazing," you breathe, "you're doing so good... don't stop, Honey." You rock your hips to meet his thrusts, taking him even deeper. "Just like that."

He groans at your approval, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, his pace stumbling for just a second before he finds it again. "I won't," he growls, voice rough against your skin. "I won't ever stop making you feel good." 

He shifts his weight then, one arm moving down your side to grip your hip to pull you closer with every thrust. You can feel yourself getting closer, the pressure coiling low in your stomach, building with every drag of him inside you. He watches you, eyes dark with something like eagerness with desire, like he only cares about one thing right now, and it's watching you fall apart. 

"I'm close," you manage to breathe out, your fingernails digging into his shoulders now. "You're gonna make me cum, Honey." 

His breath catches when he hears his name, and he feels you start to flutter around him. 

"I want it," he pants as his grip tightens, keeping you right where he needs you and angling his hips to hit that spot one last time, hard and deliberate. "Cum for me... I wanna feel it. Please, baby. Let go for me." 

The tension snaps, and you see white, a cry stuck in your throat as your orgasm crashes through you. Your body shudders beneath him as he keeps fucking you through it, holding you close. 

Finally, your breathing evens out, his movements slow as your body grows limp around him. You look up at him with hazed-over eyes, a lazy but tender smile on your face. "So good," you whisper, reaching out to brush your thumb across his cheek. "My perfect boy." 

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him down to kiss him soft and deep, pouring everything he just gave you back into it. You pull back slowly, hand still resting on his cheek as your thumb caresses over his skin. 

"Now," you murmur softly, "since you've been taking such good care of me..." Your fingers slide down his chest, easing him back just enough. "Let me take care of you, too." 

You don't give him any time to think before you're pushing him back onto the mattress now, straddling his hips again. Your hands roam over his chest and down his stomach, just appreciating the view for a moment. 

"So, so handsome," you mumble, leaning down to press kisses along where you just traced. "And all mine."

You reach in between your legs, positioning yourself to sink down onto him, earning a sharp hiss of pleasure from him as you take him fully again. His hands fly to your hips as you moan softly at the stretch of him. 

"Fuck, y/n—" he breathes, the sound rough and uneven like he's barely holding himself together.

You can't help but smirk, leaning down to drag your tongue up his neck to his earlobe. "I know, Honey," you coo, nipping his ear as you start to pick up the pace now, rising and falling on him harder as the sound of skin on skin slaps through the room. 

"You like this, don't you?" you murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth now. "You like being underneath me like this? Being mine."

His eyes squeeze shut for a second, grip tight on your hips as his head falls back onto the pillow, his hips bucking into you involuntarily. 

"I fucking love it," he pants, eyes glued to yours like he can't look anywhere else even if he wanted to. "Love being under you... being good for you. I— mm, fuck baby—" he practically whimpers, his head thrashing to the side. "I'm—I'm not gonna last much longer like this." 

"Mm, but you have no idea how gorgeous you look right now," you murmur, leaning back to take him in fully, slowing your pace just slightly. His cheeks are flushed, brows furrowed from the concentration of holding himself back. He's moaning with every roll of your hips, completely lost in you, "I could watch you fall apart like this all night." 

You grind down on him harder, deliberately slowing down right when you know he wants it faster, dragging out the pleasure. "But you have been so perfect for me... so patient." 

You lean down, brushing your lips against his in a featherlight kiss, pulling back out of reach just so you can watch him chase it and groan out of desperation. 

"I think you deserve to let go. Do you want that?" you ask sweetly, your pace picking up now, watching his expression tighten. "You wanna be a good boy and cum for me, Honey?" 

The sound he lets out is almost a whine, nodding his head frantically. "Yes—" he gasps, his voice breaking as he looks at you with those big brown pleading eyes of his. "God, yes, please let me cum for you. I wanna be so good for you, baby... please." 

His grip on your waist turns bruising at this point, and you know he's there. You lean down, riding him still as you cup his face gently. "Then let go," you murmur against his mouth. "Give me everything, Jooheon." 

You roll your hips down hard, and that's all it takes to push him over. You watch his face contort in pleasure before he lets out a loud and straggling cry, spilling himself inside you. He clings to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down close, whimpering softly as his body convulses beneath you. 

You slow your movements to a gentle rock, letting him come down, stroking his hair and pressing soft kisses to his sweaty temple. "You did so well," you croon softly, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. "So perfect for me." 

He turns his head slightly, his nose brushing up against your jaw as he presses clumsy kisses against the corner of your mouth. "Jesus..." he breathes, his voice hoarse. "You... you wreck me, y/n. In the best damn way." 

You smile softly, kissing him one more time before climbing off of him, settling in beside him, your head resting on his chest. "Mm, I try," you tease, a pleased look on your face. 

Your fingers move up to push his hair back from his forehead again. His eyes flutter shut at your touch, and you can't help the small laugh that slips out from under your breath at the sight of him like this. Flushed, wrecked, completely undone by you. He's beautiful.

"You know," you murmur softly, "earlier at work, you did look really good in your MV outfit."

His brows lift at you, his breathing still evening out, smirking. "Oh, yeah?" he huffs. 

"Mhm," you nod. "And working the set, doing what you do so effortlessly. I love watching you like that." You pause for a moment, your thumb brushing lightly across his cheek. 

"But this?" you say, gesturing to him, your smile softening. "This will always be my favorite version of you." 

His expression softens at that, something quieter settling in his eyes as his hand drifts up to your face, tracing along your cheek now. 

"Is that so?" he murmurs, voice lowering. "My favorite version of me is the one that gets to be with you." 

You smile softly at that, something warm blooming in your chest as you lean in and press a deep, slow kiss to his lips. When you pull back, you settle into his embrace, your cheek finding its place against his chest, perfectly content. 

"God, I love you," you murmur quietly into his skin. He smiles, pulling you closer.

"Patience, Honey baby," you must before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock once again. You closed your eyes, savoring his taste and the sounds of his whimpering and begging.

Jooheon pulled at the ties around his wrists that bound him to the headboard. He waited for what felt like hours, enduring the masochistic pleasure of you constantly edging him just to deny his orgasm. He wasn't sure how much longer he could withstand it.

But you knew. Your hand stroked what you didn't fit into your mouth, sucking gently to drive him closer to his release. Your other hand ran gently over his leg, keeping him grounded with a soothing touch. "Please, please, please," he whined, tossing his head back. His hips rutted up towards you, and you released him from your mouth just before his came all over his stomach and your hand.

however, on the other hand... you’re unreliable. everytime he tries to get close to you, you back away. you can’t seem to decide where you want to stand with him. one day you’re kissing his jaw faintly and all he wants is to be yours, but the next moment you pretend he doesn’t exist. it’s so frustrating! and it’s tiring. he can’t keep getting so hopeful just for you to wreck it because you decide you find someone better.

he tells himself he doesn’t need you, and in a way, he’s right. but he wants you. you make his mind foggy in the perfect way and he can’t let the ghostly feelings of pleasure you give him disappear, he needs to feel it all.

but now the door of the hotel room is locked, and every inch of his body is on fire. he wants to cry out when your hand finally brushes his painfully hard cock, but he keeps himself together.

“hey,” you repeat, finally drawing his attention. he’s so terrified and confused and excited at the prospect of what the night holds for him, but he can already tell by the way you handle him that you’re here for the power, not for any feelings. the rush of the high he feels is almost enough for you.

he feels conflicted. part of his is crying out. he feels so much more than you do, and he knows he feels so more than you do. it’s a terrifying prospect because all he wants is your love and he knows it’s the one thing he can’t have.

“yeah?”

“you’re quiet now. what gives?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, and he wants to chuckle at how pathetic he feels. all you care for is the feelings it’ll give you, and all he cares for is the feelings he has for you.

he doesn’t want to make the request, but he knows it’s his only option if he wants to forget it all. he pulls hand that was previously resting on the back of your neck to keep you close to him forward and his thumb faintly brushes your skin as he whispers, “make me forget it all, please.”

you raise your hand to hold his against your cheek, smiling softly, and for a second, he has hope, and that’s all he needs, “of course, sit down.”

he sits on the edge of the bed, still fully dressed and miserable about that fact. you take your time to unbutton your shirt, teasing him by turning around to take it off. your skirt is next, and once again you take it off painfully slow with that smirk on your face. the lights in the hotel room are soft and dim, so he doesn’t get the perfect view he wants, but he supposes it’ll do.

your undergarments are next, and he loses all thoughts of anything but you once your bra hits the floor. every inch of you was perfect. every mark and every scar made you looks so real and so beautiful.

“you gotta strip too, big boy,” you giggle, and that is more than enough to get him to rip off his clothes as fast as he possibly can. his desperation keeps you giggling, and you both smile softly. it’s a more gentle moment when you finally sit on his lap, pressing ghostly kisses on his neck. his hands gently hold your waist as he breathes. he gasps when you bite down, and he can feel you smirk against his skin, “can i tie your wrists?” you whisper, and he nods.

you don’t have much to tie him up with, so his belt will have to do. you make sure it’s loose enough for him to get out of if need be, and you resume marking his neck and chest. his breaths are heavier and he looks wrecked before you even got to the main part, “please.”

and you don’t care to tease him, not today. today is all about him, and you’ll make him feel higher than he’s ever been no matter how long or what it takes. you’re already so wet, as you can tell by the shine on his thigh, that there’s no need to wait any longer.

you take a breath before sinking down completely. he sighs shakily at the feeling. it’s far too much for him all at once, but by all means, he wants to feel overwhelmed. you experimentally start rotating your hips ever so slightly, but it’s enough to get a reaction out of him, “s-shit! oh my god— you’re incredible.”

“i know, babe,” you smirk, leaning in, and snapping your hips forward, making him cry out, “and you’re beautiful like this.”

your comment barely registers in his head, but he smiles genuinely. maybe it was just a heat of the moment declaration, but he refused to let it go. you’d have to rip the hope right out of his heart.

you don’t speak for the rest of the time, instead focusing on the noises he makes. he’s getting so close— you both can feel it— and it’ll only take a little bit longer until he’s there, “forget it all, baby, the only thing you have to remember is that you’re mine.”

he’s yours, he’s yours, he’s your—