pairing: idol bf!hongjoong x gf!fem!reader
synopsis: Behind closed doors, the dynamic between you and your boyfriend, Hongjoong, completely flips. To the rest of the world, he is the charismatic and commanding presence on stage, but in the private sanctuary of your relationship, he gladly surrenders that control.
warning(s): Dom!reader, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, teasing, marking, riding, sub!joong, face riding, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, begging, dirty talk, marking, praise kink, choking, rough sex, etc.
Song: freak for you by Haiden Henderson
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The heavy click of the front door locking felt like the official end of the world outside.
To millions of fans, Hongjoong was a force of nature—commanding, hyper-focused, and completely in control of every stage he walked onto. He carried the weight of a leader, a performer, and an icon, moving through the world with a sharp, untouchable precision that left people breathless.
But the moment the two of you crossed the threshold into the quiet sanctuary of the apartment, the suffocating pressure of his public life simply evaporated.
He didn't say a word as he shed his heavy leather jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a nearby chair. When he turned back to look at you, the sharp, intense gaze he used to hold entire stadiums captive was completely altered. The fierce, unyielding edge was gone, replaced by a quiet, heavy focus meant entirely for you.
Hongjoong took a slow step forward, his movements deliberate but entirely devoid of the authority he wore like armor out there. He stopped just inches away, looking down at you through the dark bangs falling over his forehead, his breathing already shallow.
Without you having to say a single word, he sank slowly onto his knees right there on the floorboards, his hands resting flat against his thighs. He tilted his head up, his sharp jawline defined under the soft evening light, looking up at you with absolute, unblinking devotion.
"Tell me what to do," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that betrayed just how desperately he had been waiting for this exact moment all day.
You didn't answer right away. Instead, you took a slow, deliberate step closer, letting the tips of your boots brush against his knees. The faint friction made him track your movement, his chest rising and falling in a slightly quicker rhythm now, though he didn't dare move an inch without your permission.
Slowly, you reached down, your fingers sliding beneath his chin. You tilted his head back, forcing his gaze to hold yours completely. The contrast was striking—this was the man who, just hours ago, had a stadium of thousands hanging on his every word. Now, he was looking up at you, completely vulnerable, his lips slightly parted as a quiet, trembling breath escaped them.
"Did you behave today?" you asked, your voice low and even, dripping with an easy authority that made a visible shiver run down his spine.
Hongjoong swallowed hard, his throat bobbing against your fingertips. He leaned into your touch just a fraction, a subtle, desperate plea for closer contact that he tried to restrain. "Yes," he rasped, his eyes dark and wide, entirely focused on you. "I did exactly what I was supposed to. I promise."
"Good." You let your thumb trace the sharp line of his jaw, watching the way his eyelashes fluttered at the praise. "Because you don't have to be the leader in here, Hongjoong. You don't have to carry anything."
A soft, broken sigh left his lips at your words, the tension draining from his shoulders as he fully surrendered to the weight of your command. He reached up, his hands hovering just an inch away from your waist, waiting, begging with his eyes for the permission to touch you.
"Please," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of how badly he wanted to please you. "Just tell me how you want me."
You let the silence stretch between you, enjoying the way his breathing hitched under the weight of his own anticipation. His hands remained frozen, hovering just off your hips, trembling slightly with the effort of keeping himself back until you gave the word.
"Hands on the floor, Joongie," you commanded softly, using the nickname like a velvet leash. "Don't touch me until I say so."
He didn't hesitate for a single second. His hands dropped instantly to the floorboards, planting firmly on either side of your boots. He bowed his head slightly, exposing the pale line of his neck, completely compliant. The utter lack of hesitation from someone so powerful outside these walls sent a sharp thrill right through you.
Slowly, you stepped out of your boots, the quiet thud of the leather hitting the floor the only sound in the room. You moved backward, sinking onto the edge of the plush bed, looking down at him from your new vantage point.
Hongjoong looked up, his eyes dark, heavily hooded, and entirely consumed by you. He crawled forward on his hands and knees, slow and deliberate, never breaking eye contact until his chest brushed against the mattress between your parted knees. He rested his chin on your thigh, looking up at you like a devotee at an altar, completely at your mercy.
You slid your fingers into his soft, dark hair, gently gripping the roots. Not enough to hurt, but just enough to let him know exactly who held the reins. His eyes closed, a low, needy hum vibrating against your leg at the sudden contact.
"You look so beautiful like this," you murmured, tilting his head back to expose his throat. "So eager to please."
"I am," he choked out, his hands now resting flat on the mattress on either side of your hips, still strictly obeying the command not to touch you directly. His gaze locked onto your lips, his breathing ragged. "Please. Let me do something for you."
You let your fingers tighten just a fraction in his hair, keeping his gaze locked onto yours. The sheer desperation rolling off him was palpable, a heavy tension that filled the space between you. He looked completely undone already, and you hadn't even let him touch you yet.
"Since you've been so good," you purred, your voice dropping to a velvety whisper.
Slowly, you eased your grip on his hair, sliding your hand down the side of his neck, your thumb tracing over his pulsing artery before hooking under the collar of his shirt. You shifted back into the mattress, parting your knees a fraction wider, inviting him into the space.
"You can touch me now," you murmured. "Take off my clothes. Slowly."
A ragged exhale broke from Hongjoong's lips, a sound of pure relief and intense hunger. His hands, finally released from their restraint, moved instantly. They slid up the denim of your jeans, his palms hot and slightly damp against your skin, tracing a path up to your waist. He didn't rush—even in his eagerness, he obeyed the command to be deliberate, his fingers trembling slightly as he worked at the button and zipper of your pants.
He leaned forward, shifting his weight onto his knees on the bed, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he slid the fabric down your hips. His hot breath brushed against your collarbone, sending a fierce shiver through your entire body.
"You're so perfect," he muttered against your skin, his voice muffled but entirely breathless. "Thank you... thank you for letting me."
Once the barrier of your clothes was gone, he didn't immediately go further. Instead, he stayed exactly where he was, hovering over you, looking down at your body with a reverence that bordered on worship. His hands came up to frame your waist, his thumbs smoothing over your hip bones, leaving burning trails in their wake.
You raised your hips slightly, hooking your legs around his waist to pull him closer, but you kept your hands flat against his chest, holding him back just enough to keep yourself in control.
"Look at me, Joongie," you commanded softly.
He lifted his head instantly, his pupils so blown out that the dark irises were almost entirely swallowed up. His lips were parted, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.
"Down," you said, nodding toward the space between your thighs. "Show me exactly how much you wanted this all day."
Hongjoong’s chest heaved with a heavy, ragged breath as your command settled over him. For a fraction of a second, his gaze dropped to the space between your thighs, a dark, intense hunger flaring in his eyes before he looked right back up at you, silently asking for that final, silent confirmation.
When you gave him a slow, single nod, he moved.
He slid down the length of your body, his hot palms sweeping down your outer thighs to gently urge your knees wider apart. He settled between them on his knees, moving with a reverence that made your pulse skyrocket. The cool air of the room hit your bare skin, but it was immediately replaced by the radiating heat of his body as he leaned in.
Hongjoong didn't rush. He hovered just inches away, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, making you twitch beneath him. He looked up one more time, his dark bangs falling into his eyes, completely glassy and utterly devoted.
"Tell me if it's too much," he whispered, his voice incredibly low, gravelly, and entirely stripped of any pretense. "Tell me exactly how you want it."
"Just start, Joongie," you breathed, your hands reaching up to grip the headboard behind you as the anticipation became almost too much to bear.
He let out a soft hum against your skin, a vibration that made you gasp, before his lips finally made contact.
He started with slow, agonizingly soft kisses along the inside of your thigh, marking his way upward with deliberate patience. Every press of his lips was hot and damp, a deliberate slow-burn torture that had you arching your hips off the mattress in a silent plea for more. But he held your hips down firmly with his large hands, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to anchor you, keeping you exactly where he wanted you to be.
When his tongue finally flicked against your center, a sharp, breathless cry escaped your throat.
Hongjoong groaned against you at the sound, the praise fueling him instantly. His pace picked up, his tongue moving in long, deliberate strokes that had your fingers tightening around the headboard until your knuckles turned white. He knew exactly what he was doing, swirling and pressing with a devastating rhythm that had you completely at his mercy.
"Hongjoong..." you gasped out, your head tossing back against the pillows.
Hearing his name unraveled whatever restraint he had left. He used his fingers to part you further, exposing you completely to his heat.
His mouth became hungrier, his suction deeper, a soft, wet sound filling the quiet room as he worshipped you.
He swirled his tongue over your clit while simultaneously sliding two fingers inside you, the sudden fullness making your eyes snap open.
You looked down, your vision blurry, only to find him looking right back up at you. Even with his mouth buried against you, his dark, blown-out eyes never left your face.
He watched every single expression of pleasure cross your features, drinking in the sight of you coming apart under his touch, completely satisfied to be the one on his knees making it happen.
The sudden fullness of his fingers inside you, paired with the relentless, soaking friction of his tongue, had you arching wildly off the mattress. Your hips stuttered against his mouth, but Hongjoong’s grip on your thighs only tightened, holding you perfectly steady against the onslaught.
He didn't miss a single beat. His fingers curled inside you, finding the exact angle that made your toes curl, while his thumb applied a heavy, rhythmic pressure to your clit.
"Too fast?" he murmured against your skin, his voice muffled, hot, and vibrating directly against your center. He didn't slow down, his eyes locked onto yours, completely dark and pupils fully blown. He was reading every twitch of your muscles, every ragged hitch in your chest.
"No—don't stop, Joongie, please," you choked out, your voice breaking as the coiled tension in your lower stomach tightened down to a sharp, unbearable point.
A muffled, deeply satisfied growl rumbled in his throat at your begging. The sound was pure submission, yet the sheer intensity of his pace felt utterly dominant as he drove you closer to the edge. He increased the friction, his tongue swirling in relentless, soaking circles while his fingers moved in a swift, demanding rhythm inside you.
The quiet room was filled with the wet, heavy sounds of his devotion and your own breathless, unraveled cries. You were completely at his mercy, your hands gripping the headboard so tightly your arms trembled.
"Look at me," you gasped, your vision swimming.
He immediately tilted his head up slightly, never stopping his hands or his mouth, looking up at you through his damp bangs. His lips were wet and glistening, his jaw tense with the effort of holding his own desire back just to give you everything first. The absolute worship in his eyes was the final fuse.
"Hongjoong—I'm going to—"
"Go," he rasped out against you, his fingers flexing deeply inside you one more time. "Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel it."
The peak hit you like a wave, a violent, blinding rush of heat that fractured your vision. You screamed his name, your hips spasming uncontrollably against his face as the first hard ripples of your orgasm tore through you.
Hongjoong didn't pull away. He drank in every single drop of your pleasure, burying his face directly into your heat and riding out the waves with you.
His fingers stayed buried deep inside you, curling gently to catch every internal contraction, anchoring you to the bed as your body trembled and finally, slowly, began to come down.
He stayed right there for a long, quiet minute, his face buried against your inner thigh as your breathing gradually slowed from a ragged pant to a steady, heavy rhythm. The tension had completely melted out of your muscles, leaving you tingling, warm, and entirely pliant against the sheets.
Slowly, Hongjoong pulled back. He slid up the mattress, his movements heavy and loose, until he was hovering over you once again.
He looked completely wrecked in the best possible way. His dark bangs were damp, clinging slightly to his forehead, and his lips were flushed and glistening under the dim light.
The intense, hyper-focused gaze he usually held was entirely gone, replaced by a soft, heavily hooded look of pure contentment. He rested his forearms on either side of your head, taking care not to put all his weight on you, but staying close enough that you could feel the frantic, rapid thumping of his heart against your chest.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice incredibly rough and gravelly. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, then your cheek, before resting his forehead against yours. "So beautiful when you take everything from me."
You let out a soft, breathy laugh, your hands lazily sliding up his chest to wrap around the back of his neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gently tugging to make him look at you. "You did so good, Joongie."
A visible shiver ran through him at the praise, a quiet, needy whimper catching in his throat. He shifted his hips against yours, and the heavy, rigid heat pressing against your thigh was a stark reminder that despite everything he had just given you, he hadn't touched himself once.
He was completely at his limit, his chest heaving as he stared down at you with a desperate, unspoken plea.
"Can I..." He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he struggled to find his words, completely unraveled by your touch. "Please. I want to be inside you so bad."
You arched your hips up slightly, feeling the friction of his weight, and smiled when a low growl rumbled deep in his chest at the movement.
"Take off your shirt," you commanded softly, sliding your hands down to his waist. "And then you can have exactly what you want."
Hongjoong didn’t need to be told twice. He sat back on his heels instantly, his fingers hooking into the hem of his white graphic tee. With one swift, fluid motion, he pulled it over his head and tossed it blindly onto the floor, exposing the sharp, tense lines of his chest and shoulders. His skin was slick with a thin sheen of sweat, gleaming under the low light of the room.
He didn't wait. He leaned back down over you, his bare chest pressing against yours with a heat that felt almost electric.
"Now," he gasped out, his hands framing your face, his thumbs smoothing over your cheekbones with a desperate intensity. "Please, tell me I can."
"Now, Joongie," you whispered.
He let out a ragged, broken sound—halfway between a sigh and a sob of pure relief. He reached down, his fingers guiding himself to your opening, which was still slick and sensitive from before. He paused for just a fraction of a second at your threshold, his eyes locked onto yours, silently checking one last time that you were ready to let him lose control.
When you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling him down, Hongjoong sank into you in one deep, slow push.
The sudden fullness made your eyes snap wide, a breathless gasp escaping your lips. Hongjoong groaned deeply, the sound vibrating right against your collarbone as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He went entirely still for a moment, his muscles shaking with the sheer effort of restraining himself as your body tightly accommodated his weight.
"God, you feel so good," he choked out, his voice completely wrecked. "So tight. So hot."
Slowly, he began to move. He pulled back just enough before driving deep again, establishing a slow, heavy, agonizingly perfect rhythm. He wasn't the leader right now; he was completely at the mercy of the friction, his hips stuttering slightly whenever your hands tightened on his bare back, digging your nails into his shoulders.
Every time he pushed deep inside you, a soft whimper left his lips. He was entirely unraveled, giving up every ounce of his usual composure, completely content to let you hear just how weak he was for you.
The slow, agonizingly deep rhythm quickly began to fraction. As the heat built between you, Hongjoong’s composure fractured entirely, his breath turning into short, ragged gasps against your ear. Every time his hips met yours, a low, desperate sound tore from his throat—a raw vocalization of how deeply he was losing himself in you.
"Look at me," you choked out, your hands sliding up his slick back to grip the damp roots of his hair.
He lifted his head instantly, his face flushed and his eyes completely dark, wide with an intense, unblinking focus. There was no stage persona left, no guarded expression—just pure, unadulterated vulnerability. He was looking at you as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded in the universe, entirely dependent on your expression for his next breath.
"Faster, Joongie," you commanded, your voice strained under the tightening coil in your stomach.
The permission broke the final thread of his restraint. His pace turned urgent, hard, and unyielding, driving into you with a relentless fervor that had the headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall. The wet, heavy friction filled the quiet room, a devastatingly loud testament to his surrender.
"Ah, god—sweetheart," he gasped out, his jaw clenching tightly as his movements grew slightly wilder, his hips stuttering against yours. He was chasing the edge blindly now, his fingers digging into the mattress on either side of your head, muscles in his arms tensing until they trembled violently.
You wrapped your legs higher around his waist, locking him in, arching your hips to meet every deep, frantic thrust. The sudden shift in angle pushed you both right over the precipice.
"Hongjoong—" Your voice broke on his name as the second wave of your climax hit, tight internal contractions clamping down around him.
The feeling of you coming apart around him ruined whatever control he had left. Hongjoong let out a loud, broken cry, his head falling back as his eyes closed.
He delivered three more deep, desperate thrusts before embedding himself completely inside you, his entire body locking up as a heavy, shuddering release tore through him. He spilled inside you, his chest heaving violently against yours as his pulse ran completely wild.
The heavy, frantic thumping of his heart gradually slowed against your chest, the loud, echoing sound of his breathing filling the quiet room as the aftershocks of his release slowly subsided. Hongjoong stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment, completely spent, his forehead resting heavily in the crook of your neck as his muscles finally unlocked from their tight tension.
Slowly, with an almost agonizing gentleness, he shifted his weight. He pulled back, a soft, quiet gasp escaping his lips at the sudden loss of contact, and rolled onto his side right next to you on the tangled sheets.
He didn't let you go, though. The moment he settled, his arm slid around your waist, pulling your back flush against his bare chest. He buried his face in the damp hair at the back of your neck, his breath still hot and slightly uneven against your skin.
"Don't move," he murmured, his voice incredibly rough, deep, and completely laced with exhaustion. He tightened his grip around your middle just a fraction, pulling you so close there wasn't a single inch of space left between you. "Just stay right here."
You reached down, wrapping your fingers over his hand where it rested flat against your stomach. His skin was warm, his fingers still trembling slightly from the sheer intensity of the last hour.
Out there, the world was waiting for him—schedules, cameras, stadium lights, and the relentless pressure of being the perfect leader. But in the quiet dark of the bedroom, with the door locked and your hand in his, he didn't have to carry any of it. He was completely stripped bare, entirely yours, and perfectly content to let you hold the reins until the morning came.
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