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The apartment was quiet, too quiet, when you stepped inside. No music. No talking. Just a strange hush, punctuated by the sound of something soft: a breath? A whimper?

You kicked off your boots and slid your bag to the floor, eyebrows lifting. “Boys?” you called, voice even. “I’m home.”

No answer, just barely audible came a moan from the living room.

Your brows rose higher. You padded silently toward the door, stopping just before the corner. You didn’t announce yourself.

“…Minho w-we’re not supposed to- she said we can’t-” Chan’s voice, breathless, nervous.

“Oh, come on,” Minho drawled. “What she doesn’t know won’t kill her. Or us. Unless you want her to catch us.”

A whine. “That’s not- Minho, fuck”

You peeked around the corner.

Chan was flushed and naked from the waist down, legs spread on the couch, back arched and thighs trembling. His hands were in his lap, desperately trying to cover himself, but you could still see the flush in his chest, the shame and arousal all over his face.

Minho was curled beside him, fully clothed, smirking like the devil himself. His fingers were ghosting along Chan’s inner thigh.

“Let me guess,” you said coolly, stepping fully into the room. “I tell you to behave for a few hours and come home to find you corrupting my good boy?”

Chan jumped, practically scrambling off the couch, while Minho just smiled and stretched like a cat. “Oh. Welcome home, sweetheart.”

You raised a brow. “Minho.”

“Yours truly.”

“Hands off Chan.”

He lifted his hands mockingly. “You’re no fun.”

“Sit,” you ordered.

He tilted his head, but obeyed, plopping into the armchair like he hadn’t just been caught red-handed. Chan was standing now, blushing hard, trying not to meet your gaze, hand ghosting over his erection trying to hide it.

You turned to him, voice softer. “Come here.”

He crossed the room quickly, eyes wide, still panting.

“Chan,” you murmured, reaching to brush your fingers over his cheek. “Did you forget the rules?”

He shook his head immediately. “No- I didn’t- I told him, I swear, I tried to say no, but he-he”

Your fingers curled under his chin. “Breathe.”

Helmet out a shaky breath.

“You didn’t touch yourself?”

His voice was small. “No! But- he's so pretty- I-.”

You looked into his eyes for a beat, interrupting him. “You still want to be good for me?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Please.”

“Then strip the rest of the way and kneel on the couch. Hands behind your back. Legs spread.”

He shivered at the command, but obeyed without hesitation, shedding his shirt and climbing onto the couch. Kneeling upright, hands locked behind him, thighs apart just enough for you to see how hard he was already.

You turned to Minho.

“You, on the other hand,” you said, voice icy, “are going to tell me exactly what you were doing teasing him when you knew damn well he’s not allowed to come without permission.”

Minho shrugged. “He looked bored. I was doing him a favor.”

“Is that what you call trying to fingerfuck my good boy into disobedience?”

“I didn’t touch him-” he grinned. “Well. Not really.”

You crossed the room in two slow steps and gripped his jaw.

“Do you want to be punished?” you asked quietly.

His eyes glittered. “Maybe. If you’re offering.”

You smiled and turned back to Chan.

“Look at him,” you said, gesturing at Minho. “Smirking, fully clothed, like he didn’t do anything wrong.”

Chan whimpered. “He said we’d stop before you got home-”

You brushed your thumb across his lower lip. “You think he ever listens?”

Chan shook his head, eyes big and eager. “No.”

You moved behind him and ran your hands slowly down his sides, then slid a hand between his legs. He was already dripping.

“Poor thing,” you cooed. “He got you so worked up, didn’t he? But you didn’t come.”

“No,” he breathed.

You bent down to whisper against his ear. “You want to come now?”

“Yes please- please”

Minho scoffed from the chair. “Pathetic.”

You turned sharply. “Say that again.”

He opened his mouth, but paused.

“You think you’re so smug,” you continued. “You get off on pushing him over the edge, but you can’t stand that he’ll always be my good boy. Why can't you behave?”

You nodded to the floor. “Strip and crawl.”

Minho’s expression flickered, challenge, excitement, obedience tangled in one, but he stood. He stripped slower than he needed to, clearly putting on a show, and then dropped to his knees and crawled toward the couch.

You stopped him with a foot to his chest. “Back. Hands behind you. Watch only.” 

He obeyed, breath catching.

You turned to Chan. “Touch yourself,” you said. “But don’t you dare come until I say.”

Chan moaned already, fingers wrapping around his cock, hips twitching at the first stroke.

You kissed his shoulder, lips soft. “That’s it. Good boy. Just like that.”

He whimpered. “Feels so good”

“You look so pretty like this.”

Behind you, Minho let out a low groan. You turned toward him.

“Hard already?” you mocked. “All I did was praise him.”

He glared, but his flushed cock betrayed him.

“Maybe I should keep praising him,” you purred. “Let him come all over my hand while you watch.”

Minho made a sound, such a desperate sound.

You grinned. “Oh, you don’t like that idea, do you? What’s wrong, brat? Want me to touch you instead?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“I don't think you deserve it.”

Minho gritted his teeth.

“You wanted to play games,” you said sweetly, “but I make the rules here.”

He clenched his fists behind his back. “Please.”

You tilted your head.

“Please what?”

“…Please touch me.”

“Why?” You pretended to think. “You were such a little shit earlier, though. And now you’re whining like you don’t love being denied.”

Chan gasped again, faster now, hand stroking quick.

“M-mommy~ please- I-”

“Don’t come yet,” you warned him, placing a hand around his wrist to still him. “Just a little more, baby.”

He nodded frantically, tears in his lashes.

You turned back to Minho, cocking a brow. “Look what you did to him.”

Minho licked his lips. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not. But I’ll make sure you are.”

You moved to Minho, finally giving him a single slow stroke of your hand, and he arched, eyes fluttering shut, hips chasing you.

“One touch,” you whispered. “That’s all you get right now.”

He growled. “That’s not fair!”

You grinned, leaning in. “I don’t play fair with brats.”

You returned to Chan. “Sweetheart,” you said softly, tugging his hand away. “You’ve been so good for me. Ready to come?”

“Yes- yes, please~”

You wrapped your hand around his cock and stroked him firmly, just once, then again, fast and tight, he cried out, body jerking as he spilled into your hand, moaning your name like a prayer.

You kissed his jaw as he trembled. “Good. Such a good boy.”

Then you turned to Minho.

“Now you,” you said, voice dark. “On your back. Legs open.”

His eyes went wide.

You leaned in close. “If you’re going to act like a needy little slut, I’ll treat you like one.”

He obeyed without a word this time, lying flat, legs parted just enough.

You sat between them and ran a teasing fingertip over his cock. “No touching. No squirming. You’ll come when I say. Understood?”

“…Yes.”

"Yes, who?"

"Yes… Mommy,"

You smirked. “You want to be my toy, brat? You’re going to learn what happens to toys that misbehave.”

He bit back a moan when you start slow, steady strokes, your palm firm, your lips murmuring filth into his ear. “You want to be a good boy now, don’t you? Too late.”

Minho whimpered.

“Chan’s such a good boy… why can't you behave and just be good” you taunted. 

“I- fuck please-”

“Beg better.”

“Please, mommy! I need to come- need you- anything-”

You finally relented. "Fine," you feign disinterest. 

He screamed, whole body arching as he came hard over your hand, into his stomach, legs trembling, eyes wild. You watched him fall apart with a smug grin.

Minho groaned from the floor. “Fuck.”

You chuckled. “Next time, I won't be this nice… Let go clean up”

Changbin & Hyunjin :

Han & Felix :

Seungmin & I.N :