Sub!idols

A thundering vibration startles you awake. You’re immediately overwhelmed– something too loud is pressed against your ear, something too tight is wrapped around your stomach, and something too stiff is digging into your back. You squirm away, rolling over the Pudeongie plush in your arms and propping yourself up on your elbow. Once there’s space between you and everything, your vision focuses and your awareness returns. No, there isn’t a freight train passing by, and you aren’t being kidnapped.  

Yunho is sleeping with you tonight. Your big, beautiful, bed-hogging boyfriend is finally back after a grueling stretch of touring.  

He’d stumbled into your apartment at an ungodly hour, immediately dropping his heavy bags and tossing his jangling keys on the granite counter. The commotion woke you and sent you shuffling into the kitchen. He was half-naked by the time you got there– his shoes and socks discarded by the door, the first layers of his airport outfit strewn over the rungs of your dining chairs. Lit by the warm diffused glow of the lamps you kept on for comfort, Yunho barely looked real. Angelic, even after hours of air travel, hair tousled and bottom eyelids shadowed. Seeing you, he stopped unzipping his slacks and crossed the room in three strides. Cradling your head in his hands, his pillowy lips parted around your own, flooding you both with the love you’d been craving for weeks.  

Another snore rips through the quiet morning air. Those heart-shaped lips are currently hanging open and spilling drool onto your pillowcase.  

You curse softly. He’s so lucky he’s cute.  

The faint light through your sheer curtains tells you it’s nearing sunrise. You check your phone and confirm that your alarm is set to go off in an hour. Truly the most annoying possible timing on Yunho’s part. You stick your tongue out at him and of course he snores back at you. Shining your phone screen on the nightstand, you locate your nearly drained vape. You depend on your choice substance more when your boyfriend is gone.  It pacifies the scratchy anxiety that prickles under your skin in his absence. And you can indulge freely when a professional singer with virgin lungs isn’t breathing your air.    

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you start to stand but are promptly yanked back down by the back of your t-shirt. Yunho paws at you, still dead asleep and drooling, but instead of a snort a barely audible whine escapes him. That high-pitched sigh you hear only when your lover is at his softest. Your heart somersaults, swelling with tender desire.

That’s my puppy. 

Outstretched arm falling slack, he lets out another tiny sound, the delicate muscles in his face twitching. His slender arm wraps around Pudeongie and tucks its yellow body tight to his chest. With a heavy exhale, he curls his large frame around it like he can’t sleep without something to hold. 

At the sight of him snuggling his beloved plushie, warm oxytocin-laced blood flushes through you. Tingly sparks dance in your nerves. Your mind darts to the black leather collar at the bottom of your bedside drawer and buckles it around his neck, flashing memories of Yunho kneeling, tongue lolling, nuzzling your stomach, eyes vacant and glassy. The time he brought a headband with floppy ears home from work… 

Your mouth is watering. 

With a stretch that pops at least three bones, you successfully get out of bed and into the bathroom, trailing a vapor cloud through the hallway. You consider committing to the waking world, but after a quick glance at your crowded notifications you decide against it. After washing your hands, you shuffle into the kitchen, grab a cup, and set it under the water filter. You sneak a final hit of your vape while the cool water chills the glass in your palm. Sighing out the sweet taste, you make your way to your bedroom with the cup and vape clutched in one hand and your phone in the other. Nudging the door open with your foot, you open your alarm to give yourself a few extra minutes of comfort. As you draw closer to the bed, you hear Yunho huffing deep breaths into the pillow, then fabric rustling against fabric. Rhythmically. A choked little groan. Your eyes snap up from the screen. 

“Oh, sweet puppy,” you gasp.  

Yunho’s long, graceful legs are sprawled open over the plush. His hand grips one of Pudeongie’s paws, pressing the stuffing into a mound under the powder-soft skin of his tummy. The flushed head of his cock peeks out from the waistband of his boxers, dribbling clear fluid onto the yellow fleece. The fleece of the stuffie… that he is humping. 

Like a dumb fucking dog.  

Your head spins like you took a gulp of helium instead of oxygen. Like bubbles are diffusing into your arteries, threatening to lift your feet off the ground. Then blood rushes to your pussy so fast your clit throbs with the change in pressure.    

You stare at him slack-jawed for an indiscernible amount of time. His eyebrows knit together in a wordless plea as his hips roll languidly. Pitiful whimpers occasionally interrupt the sleep-heavy pace of his breath. Little shudders race through his pliant body when a seam drags against the sensitive spot on the underside of his crown. When his foreskin slips back, precum gushes out of his tip into a soaked patch of Pudeongie's fuzz. 

Your brain stops signalling your hands to work, so your phone hits the carpeted floor with a thud. You startle, causing water to slosh onto your chest. Nipples budding against the wet fabric, you empty your hands and yank off your shirt and shorts, focus completely locked on your pup. He needs you badly.

As you settle beside him, you wonder if this scene has played out in hotel rooms around the world. You picture your boyfriend in empty beds, desperately fucking the mattress, moaning your name. Clutching a pillow to his chest, panting, rubbing himself silly. Squirting onto the linens faster than he means to. Cheeks blazing with embarrassment when he buries the soiled fabric in the wastebasket before checking out in the morning. 

You’re wet already. The musky scent of his arousal overwhelms your senses now that you are close enough to share breaths. Your fingers brush aside the layer of dark hair clinging to his forehead, and the unobstructed view of Yunho’s face steals the air from your lungs. He looks delicate– as vulnerable and miraculous as a freshly hatched butterfly. Eyelashes flutter like gossamer wings. Pink lips glisten like dewy rose petals. The pads of your fingers trace down his cheek and land on them gently. He freezes. So do you. For a moment, you worry that you’ve ruined his precious slumber, selfishly waking him from a dream he’s more than earned after exhausting himself on the road. 

Then his tongue laps the entire length of your pointer finger into his mouth. He suckles, humming sweetly when your fingertip brushes his silky soft palate.

“Oh my god, baby…” you whisper, slipping your middle finger past his sloppy lips. His tongue flits against your skin as it glides effortlessly into his maw. Your thighs start clenching, squeezing slick down your vulva. You can’t fucking take it anymore. You have to touch him. You pull his underwear off, and the rippling heat of his erection warms your fingers before they even make contact. You glance down and have to bite your lip to stay quiet.

Holy fuck.  

Yunho’s huge, heavy dick throbs helplessly against his quivering abs. The tantalizing friction of the fabric has rubbed him raw. A scarlet flush radiates from his crown to the middle of his shaft, his puffy tip so swollen it looks bruised. His balls look so full they might burst. 

“You poor thing,” you murmur, palming his cockhead. He whimpers around your fingers. 

“Shhhh, puppy. I’m helping you feel better. There we go…” 

You encircle him with your fist, skin slick from his steady flow of precum. His pelvis stutters back and forth, animal instincts kicking in at the relieving pressure.

“Good puppy. That’s it, just like that.”

Gripping tighter, you slide your hand all the way to the base. His mouth falls open, releasing your fingers with a full-chested groan. Your hole clenches at the sudden deep resonance, and your hips spasm against the plush that still separates your bodies. The velvety fabric tickles your clit deliciously. Suddenly you understand why Yunho loves this Pudeongie plush so much. 

Your spit-slick fingers brush against one of his nipples and his entire body shudders. Feeling his balls pulsate against your fist, you immediately release your grip, hoping to keep him wrapped in the cozy blanket of sleep. He’s so pretty like this, body melting like hot wax under your touch. Please don’t wake up.  

He snorts loudly, directly in your face, and you nearly jump out of bed. 

“Goddamnit,” you hiss, briefly regretting your decision to preserve his sleep cycle. 

But then he snuffles his nose into the pillow, arms and legs fidgeting like a dreaming dog’s. You want him like this forever– blissfully unaware of everything except the pleasure you’re pouring into his body. Sick satisfaction squirms low in your gut at the thought of milking an unconscious orgasm out of your boyfriend. 

Fuck, you need it now. Your cunt has soaked a second wet patch onto Pudeongie, who you fling in the hamper’s direction. Your fingers return to his perked up nipple, pinching and twisting slowly until he’s squirming. His eyes roll back so far that slivers of white show under his lashes. 

“I could take you apart like this,” you purr into his ear. You’re not sure if your words can reach his awareness through the fog, but he shivers and pants at the sound of your voice. 

“You’re so needy, Yuyu. You could cum from your nipples being played with, couldn’t you boy?” 

You roll the firm bud in circles. His slit drools so much fluid that it runs down his shaft and drips onto his sensitive balls. 

“My sweet boy, leaking all over my sheets. Does that feel good, pup? Oh, I know it does…”

Yunho’s hips start thrusting again, erratic and lacking something to rut into. His pathetic little whines dissolve the last of your self-control. You can’t deny him any longer. Turning your back to him, you part your thighs, clit shivering at the exposure. You take his burning hot girth into your hand and guide it between your legs. 

“Oh Yuyu,” you gasp.

Tilting your hips, you drag your slick folds down his length, moaning feverishly. When your legs close, engulfing him in your softness, Yunho grunts deep in his chest. His pelvis jerks forward, eagerly resuming its rhythm.  

“God yes, your puppy dick feels so good on my pussy.” 

His bulging veins squish deliciously between your labia. Your hips rock in tandem with his, grinding your swollen clit against his shaft. He’s so long that even when his thrusts draw back, the tip sticks past your thighs. Drool fills your mouth as you watch his foreskin glide back and forth over his cherry-colored head. The phrase red rocket wriggles in the filthiest corner of your thoughts. Shameful lust boils in your core. Your cunt throbs. 

“I’m going to make you cum now, okay baby?”

Even if he can’t hear you, you offer your voice as a lifeline. You’ll take care of your sweet boy through his dreams. Your fingers wrap around his cockhead.

“Just let it out.”

Your bodies melt together, pulses synchronizing as you surrender to animal instinct. Yunho fucks your hand with quick pumps, pathetically groaning unh, unh, unh with every contraction. He’s not even inside you, but your composure unravels like he’s buried to the hilt. 

“Puppy… oh fuck me puppy, you’re such a good boy,” you babble as your vision blurs. Your pulsing lips kiss his twitching cock, both of you careening towards the edge. Your thighs squeeze tighter. 

“C’mon baby, cum for me, make a mess, c’mon puppy–”

His balls clench, then his entire body locks up. Yunho returns to consciousness in the half-second tipping point of his climax.    

“Hnnguh–whuh–” 

Overwhelmed by the crashing wave, unable to stop the spurts of his release, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, catalyzing your orgasm. You fall apart with him, watching jets of his pearly cum spray across the sheets. His cock kicks into your clit with every squirt. You unroll your hand and flit it beneath his frenulum, determined to drain him completely. Drowning in pleasure, Yunho trembles and whimpers around a mouthful of your flesh, jaw still set. 

“Shit–! Owwww, puppy oh my god–” 

Your pained cry cuts through his addled thoughts and he instantly lets go. 

“Sorry, sorry– I’m so sorry honey, I… nnnggh ahh, ahh fuck…” 

He’s still cumming, pulsating between your legs. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay baby,” you reassure him, reaching behind you to stroke his fluffy hair, which relaxes him instantly.

“I know it’s too much, I know, you’re being such a good boy.” 

The fluid shooting from his slit thins and runs clear. Moaning open-mouthed into the back of your neck, he rides out the dwindling waves, fingers twitching on your chest. You place your hand on top of his and lace your fingers together. 

“I got you, puppy. You’re here with me.”

You lay tangled together in the afterglow– endorphins flowing, breaths slowing, heartbeats easing. His softening dick stays snuggled between your thighs, a comforting presence for your most vulnerable parts on your journey back down to earth.  

“Sorry I bit,” Yunho murmurs. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just… I couldn’t…”

“Sweet boy, it’s okay,” you turn to meet his angel eyes. “I’m the one that touched you while you were sleeping.” 

Your gut twists with shame as the past few minutes replay in your memory. You had plenty of chances to wake him up, ask what he was feeling, check what he wanted. But you didn’t. You liked how helpless he was. You got despicably turned on by the sight of him defiling his favorite stuffie like wound-up dog. 

“I’m sorry Yunho, I– I wanted to take care of you. I shouldn’t have pounced like that, I should’ve asked, I–”

“Baby, you’re perfect.” 

He kisses you gently, cupping your face with his hand. You nuzzle against it.  

“It’s not your fault I sleep like a fucking rock.” 

The sound of his chuckle soothes you, soaking up the anxiety seeping into your brain. A smile tugs at your lips.  

“I’m only awake because you snore louder than a construction zone.”

A sheepish look dances across his face. He draws his hand back to scratch behind his ear.

“Sorry I woke you. Do you work today?” he asks. 

You nod, and he pouts his bottom lip. He looks so cute you feel the impulse to scream.

“I’ll make coffee and drive you there.” 

Before you can protest, he climbs out of bed, yawning and stretching as he stands. The first beams of dawn stream through the curtains, lighting his willowy figure with a halo. He bends at the waist to grab clothes on the floor, showing off the lithe expanse of his legs. He’s exquisite– a living Grecian sculpture. 

The discarded plush, laying limp and disheveled, catches his eye.  

“Hey, why’s Pudeongie on the floor?”

He scoops up the yellow dog and hugs it without noticing the damp patches first. Then the scent of his own arousal wafts into his senses. His eyes widen cartoonishly. 

“Oh my god, was I…”

“Humping your stuffie in your sleep?” you smirk at the opportunity to tease.

“Yep, like a horny mutt. Don’t worry, you looked cute.” 

Heat burns his cheeks so pink they match his nipples. Giggling, you walk over and stand on tip toe to kiss him on the nose.  

“You can wash Pudeongie with all of your crusty socks from the tour.” 

“You little–”

He swings the plush at you, but you evade and dart into the hallway, laughing wholeheartedly. You whip around when you reach the bathroom, and he’s behind you with a wicked grin. Pudeongie sails through the air and bounces off your face. Echoes of joy ring through your apartment as your boyfriend embraces you, naked bodies blending together seamlessly. Yunho is home, and everything is a bit more right in the world. 

This is a work of fiction. Characters within are based on artist personas and do not represent real people.

teehee uh... idk what to say lol. this is really self-indulgent and lowkey embarrassing to post, but im being brave for you atiny!! kind words especially appreciated on this one :)

Chan

Switch 100%

Will give or receive he does not care as long as he’s getting praised for whatever is happening

Biggest praise kink in all of skz I think (no I KNOW)

And his stamina?? Holy god he can and will go multiple rounds

As many as you want, it’s all up to you

He’s also vocallll as fuck, doesn’t matter if he’s fucking you or he’s getting fucked he’s talking and moaning and whining

His little voice breaks when he’s close :(( he’s so cute

Lee Know

Switch + dom leaning, but when he’s subbing he’s such a fucking brat omg

Equally okay with giving or receiving

(When subbing/being a brat) will be riling you up until you shove his face into the mattress (he’s getting exactly what he wants lmfao)

But then when you keep going after he cums the first time and he starts to get hazy and glassy and weak omfggggg

Just keep going after the first round, dw he’ll tap out if he needs it (he won’t need to tap out)

Rope bunny :(( tie him up with cute little designs and everything

But when he’s domming omg

Firm. Not necessarily mean he just knows you’re going to be good (unless you wanna get punished)

He uses short orders, uses his body language to communicate, he’s so fucking observant with you

Changbin

Prefers to give, is almost entirely a sub

He! has! muscles!! Use them!!

His stamina is also crazy omg

Service top !

Please please please scratch your nails down his arms and shoulders :(( he’d look so pretty marked up by his lover

Omg if he lets you tie him up. Omfg I’m frothing at the mouth

The way it would dig into his skin and muscles?? Yeahhaha lemme get a bite of that rn

Tease him like that until you’re too desperate to keep going and he’ll take care of you both

Hyunjin

Switch + sub leaning + A BRATTTT

Prefers receiving, will happily give tho

Masochist ass mf

He wants to be humiliated, he wants to be edged, he wants to be overstimulated-

Ahem. Please put him in his place

When he pushes your buttons and riles you up what he’s actually doing is begging for you to step on his dick

Or do anything with his dick really, just make sure he’s tortured a little bit

Han

Sub 😭 bruh no way in hell we’re looking at the same person if you’re calling him a dom

Will receive or give, he just wants to be called a slut (your slut, specifically)

Praise/degradation get him going equally, but when you mix them???? Lmfao yeah he came

Another vocal mf, he’ll be whining into your ear the entireeee time (gag him.)

Pleaseee make him cry. Please. He needs it so badly

He’s messyyyy. Cannot control his mouth or his dick

Felix

Switch with a sub lean, has no preference giving or receiving

Probably has a collection of toys, lovesss using them on you and himself

Dirty talks like no other, just right up until he’s about to cum

Then it breaks off into shaky breaths and whimpers

His voice absolutely goes up into his throat when he’s about cum but I’m getting ahead of myself here

His fingers are so good omg I just know they are

Pull his hair!!

Seungmin

Switch with a sub lean, wants to give more but it just feels so good to feel good :((

Listen I enjoy imagining him as a mean dom as much as the next person but I know what he is. A switch! With a sub lean!!

Changbin manhandles tf out of him no way he’s just a dom bro 😭

Anyway he likes getting manhandled. And he can handle it too

Getting folded in half is a regular occurrence for him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way

Definitley a masochist, wants to be edged until he’s dumb so fucking badly

Jeongin

Switch. Lovessss giving and receiving equally (he just wants you both to feel good)

His fingers are also absolutely incredible

Goodluck putting a coherent sentence together once they’re in you

Breathless and giddy and teasing the entire time regardless of if he’s domming or subbing, giving or receiving

A biter, needs to stiffle his moans somehow and your skin is literally right there-

you were on his lap, using him for your pleasure after a long day at work. his arms were tied behind him to keep his hands from wandering. he could only watch as your hips rolled against his, the weak bed frame knocking rhythmically against wall as you rode him.

he was still dressed in his pajamas, a soft worn shirt pushed up to reveal his abs and plaid pants shoved down just enough to expose him. he bit his bottom lip to keep his pathetic whimpers in as you neared your climax.

"yun..." you panted, your hands squeezing against his broad shoulders as your thighs shook from exertion. "fuck, i think -- i'm gonna--" your touch drifted up to the base of his neck, feeling over the softness of his skin.

"cum for me, sweetheart..." he breathed out, looking up at you with desperation filled eyes.

your hands squeezed against the sides of his throat as you locked eyes with him, the molten heat at the bottom of your core suddenly imploding within you. you heard his breath hitch as your grip tightened, not only around his cock, but his neck too.

"fuck--" his voice was breathy and hoarse as you continued to hold him. his eyes rolled back as he follows your climax, hips fervently bucking upwards to feel the depths of your heat around him.

---

he never mentioned it after it happened, but there are signs he still thinks about it.

you see the way he looks at your hands, how his body shudders when you start to feel over his shoulders, or the way he leans against your mouth as you suck marks against his neck.

but he never asks you directly.

he doesn't know it, but you've been teasing him for days -- getting so close to what he wants before pulling back.

yunho is bad at hiding his disappointment -- those puppy dog eyes and pouty lips come out every time you drag your thumb over the pretty column of his neck, pressing ever so slightly against a pressure point before moving on to his flushed ears and tousled hair.

you know exactly what he's craving, but you want him to tell you first. it's so much sweeter when your shy boyfriend becomes desperate enough to beg for you.

---

you already have him worked up in your hands, pliant and aching as you edge him for the third time. he's pink all over as he struggles to hold himself back, his hips stuttering as your thumb glides against his dripping head.

"i'm sorry, baby, i swear," he groans, "i didn't hear you when you called."

"that's right." you hum, "because you were busy on your game, hm?"

"my friends just kept queuing us--" his voice cracks when you squeeze him teasingly.

"but it wasn't just this time that i called. you've been distracted all week." you try to look him in the eyes, but his gaze is foggy and distant as you speak. you swear he can't hear a word you're saying.

"p-please--"

you tilt your head, "please?"

he picks up your wrist and places your hand over his sternum. "touch me here." his voice is weak as he begs you.

"why should i?" your hand remains still against the base of his neck.

"b-because! you've been teasing me all week..."

"i haven't done anything!"

"that's the point!" he's on the verge of whining out his responses. "i need you."

"fine." you finally wrap a hand around his neck and slowly tighten your grip around him. "then take it."

you watch as his body starts to react -- first, his breathing; then, his fluttering eyes; and finally, his cock.

he twitches in the hold of your other hand. he barely gets out a choked moan before he starts spilling over your fingers. his body trembles as he climaxes, spurting rope after rope, as if he hadn't cum in ages.

you release your grip and stare at the panting man before you.

"that's it? that's all it took?"

"i-i...i didn't think i would finish so quick..." he says sheepishly, a dazed look still in his eyes.

"yunnie," you caress his cheek with you clean hand, "next time just tell me what you want."

"it's embarrassing."

"oh, c'mon, we've done worse."

He's been messing with you all day.

He knows it, you know it, hell, you're pretty sure Chan knows it by the way he sends the both of you an exasperated look halfway through lunch.

It's like Seungmin doesn't have a single nice thing to say. He'll insult every little thing about you while still someone making it sound needy. Your hair's not sitting right (let him fix it for you by ruffling it), your coat looks frumpy (so he's going to tug on it until you snap at him), that bag doesn't match your outfit (he has to carry it, then, because the color works better with his fit), your makeup looks cakey (an excuse for him to squeeze and rub at your cheeks until they're pink from friction), your jokes aren't funny (he's retelling them to all of his friends a day later) - anything that he knows will piss you off, he's saying.

Alternatively, he doesn't even have to say anything. He might laugh too loud while talking to one of his hyungs and then glance at you like he's talking about you negatively (you know he's not), or he might swat your hand away when you reach to hold his. He'll act like you smell, or shirk away from your affection just to be all over one of his hyungs two seconds later. You would be genuinely offended if you didn't catch him stealing glances at you the whole time, eyes sharp and sparkling with something you can't place.

He's a brat who's very smart about being a brat. After being together this long, he knows your limits. He knows what's going to make you actually break, just what to say to make you actually drag him away to a seclude corner and punish him for his behavior. But he doesn't want that - he wants it to build all day, just inconvenient enough to piss you off but never enough for you to reasonably drag him away and take it out on him after each infraction. He thinks that it's going to be sooooo good when you get home tonight, already dreaming about how you're going to tie him up or make him eat you out until he's drunk on your arousal. Because he's done this before, and in his head, this is his secret little trick to get his favorite kind of "punishment", the kind that isn't really a punishment to him at all. Sure, you might edge him a little, or not let him touch, but what he gets every time is your undivided attention on him, which outweighs any of the things you think are punishments for him.

What he doesn't realize is that you've caught on. You know the glint he gets in his eye when he's doing this, the way his body gets taut with mischief and how he always gets exactly what he wants every time. You let him play his little game, react just the way he wants you too in public - exasperated and pissed off, but not so angry that he gets punished now. You know this is what he wants now when he pushes you again and again, never enough to break you now but enough for you to remember his transgressions for later. He likes to put them in the bank, you suppose, until he's so in debt to you for his actions that he lets you take take take until he has nothing left to give.

The day drags on, endless comments and little jabs from Seungmin driving you insane. You have half a mind to not even let him play this game anymore, to call him out for it in front of his hyungs and dongsaeng. Say something nasty, about how he's just acting like a brat because he wants to get fucked. Tell him to be patient, that maybe if he's good you might let his members watch, might even let them join.

(You save that thought for later, filing away the way that Seungmin flushes when Changbin manhandles him or the way he melts a bit when Chan uses the leader voice on him. Another time, another time.)

Chan brushes your hand once under the table at dinner, a quiet question of whether you're okay or not, if Seungmin's being too much, and you send him an appreciative smile.

"I'll be okay," you murmur, just low enough for only him to catch your words, "He'll get it later. Trust me."

He flushes, but gives you one sharp nod and drops it. You slide back into conversation, well aware of the questioning look that Seungmin's giving you. He can be so bratty, but the second you do one thing that he might do it gets 1000% worse. He can't take it back at all, unable to handle the idea of getting out-bratted, you suppose.

The drive home after dinner is tense. He had told you to "slow down" while you were eating dinner, rested his hand dangerously high up your thigh on multiple occasions, stolen bites off of your fork enough times that even Minho, agent of chaos, was scolding him, and made a comment about how you really, really should've worn different shoes ("those ones don't match those pants at all"). The idea of dragging him to the restaurant bathroom and walking back out with him all ruffled and high on sex got more and more appealing throughout the night, but you held back. Took deep breathes whenever he kicked you leg under the table. Talked to other people when the conversation with him turned to sharp teasing.

The walk into your apartment is silent. You hadn't invited him over, per se, but it was an unspoken rule that these kinds of days led to long nights in your apartment, and one too many close calls with Felix made it worth the risk of Dispatch potentially seeing the two of you out here. He was fidgeting with the hem of his coat now, unused to your silence. There was a pattern to these nights: you quietly tell him the whole walk up what you're going to do to him to watch him mouth back, knowing that every filthy word you were saying was making him squirm internally. You slip the key into the door, and the two of you barely get inside before you're either making out near the front door or you've forced him to kneel and wait for you while you get supplies.

He could feel it in the air now, that something in the game had shifted. That the rules had changed without him even realizing it. There was a swirling feeling of dread in his stomach that he couldn't place, but he shook it off. You were probably just waiting until you were inside. Perhaps tonight's punishment was too filthy for even you to vocalize just yet. He prides himself with his patience with these kinds of things, so he lets it slide, taking deep, even breaths to center himself. Your behavior wasn't abnormal, he was just needy. He needed to get a grip.

But now you were in the apartment, and the silence still lingered. There was no command to kneel, no quick spin to press him to the door. Just you shrugging your coat off and hanging it up in the entryway closet. Just you carefully unlacing your shoes and sliding your house slippers on. Just you...walking away from him? You don't even say anything, just trek into the house. He watches with confusion as you round the corner towards the bedroom without so much as a glance back at him.

Whatever new game you're playing Seungmin can't place. He can tell you with confidence that he doesn't like it, that's for sure. Ignorance wasn't something that he handled very well - he was needy, damn it! What he does know about this game is that if he admits he needs you, that the reason he's been acting out if because he wants you, then he loses. He can see that much written in your cold indifference.

So he just follows suit, slipping his coat onto a hanger and his shoes onto the rack. Two can play, he supposes, even if he's been dealt into a game he's never played before. He catches you padding to the bathroom as he rounds the corner, pajamas neatly folded into your arms.

"Gonna take a shower," you call behind you, voice indifferent and light, "I'll be a bit."

That's all he gets before you're closing the bathroom door and locking it. You've never done that before, either, and Seungmin realizes with clarity that perhaps he's already lost. This was an open-door house: he doesn't even lock the bathroom door when he pees anymore, used to you slipping in to grab something from around the sink or to brush your teeth. Showers usually meant Seungmin sneaking in with you, and sex under the hot steam and then another round in bed. Whatever this was wasn't on the schedule.

"Whatever," he huffs to himself, slipping into your bedroom, "I don't care anyways."

He's a big fat liar.

He's checking the door every few minutes, every creak of the building or sound from down the hall making his head snap up, eyes locked on the door. He thinks you're joking at first, as he slips off his slippers and settles on your bed. Surely, that must be it. You're messing with him (he'd never admit that it's working), and you'll come back out in a cute little number and rock his world until he can't remember his name.

But then the water turns on and all hope is lost. He doomscrolls through reels and TikToks until his brain feels like it's melting out of his ears, not even really watching whatever's on his screen. His cock has been half-hard since the two of you left the restaurant, and your negligence is only making him harder, cock twitching on its own accord. He feels pathetic in the worst kind of way, because this wasn't how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to be having the night of his life, not...whatever this was.

He hears the water turn off and he locks back into his phone, trying very hard to act nonchalant. He doesn't want you thinking he was waiting for you, or anything like that. That would be admitting his defeat to your face. Seungmin doesn't admit defeat - you have to drag it out of him.

He stays scrolling on his phone when he hears you press into the bedroom, the padding of your feet getting closer and closer until he feels the bed dip next to him. He's laying on his stomach now, just aimlessly scrolling TikTok, as you sidle up next to him. Your cheek presses to his shoulder, peering at his phone screen with mild interest. He angles it towards you without thinking and you hum.

"What are you watching?" you ask, your breath tickling his cheek.

His cock twitches with interest below him.

"Tiktok." He responds, dry and strained.

You watch for a moment more before shifting to prop yourself against the headboard. His head is resting right near your thigh now, though you've created some distance between the two of you. You grab your book off the nightstand and open it, making a quiet sound in your throat as you start to read.

He wonders briefly how you're even focusing on your book right now. A part of him hopes that you're having just as much trouble holding it together as he is, though the steady flip of pages indicates that you probably aren't. How are you not aching for him? Doesn't he deserve his punishment?

He only lasts about 10 more minutes before he's squirming, shifting in his seat. You don't even glance, even when his movements gently rock the mattress at points. That's what makes it even more frustrating. You just keep reading, like the book is more interesting than your very real (and very horny) boyfriend. Each page turn is like you're stabbing him with your apathy, and Seungmin's face is pressed to your thigh in 10 minutes' time. You don't even glance down, just let him rest against your bare thigh, like this was just a normal Friday night.

He goes back to scrolling in his new position, his own mask of indifference slipping when you laugh quietly at something in the book. He glances up at you, waiting for you to catch his eye and elaborate on the joke like you always do, but you don't. You just keep reading, moving on like you didn't realize you were driving him insane. Did you even realize you were driving him insane? He's pretty sure the button on the jeans might burst from how hard he is, so needy that he thinks he can catch a glimpse of a little wet patch forming on the front of his pants.

He only lasts 5 more minutes before you shift a little, just readjusting yourself to sit more comfortably, and he whimpers. He clenches his jaw when he does, daring a glance up at you, and somehow, once again, you couldn't care less. Your eyes are still on the page, and your breathing stays the same - calm and annoyingly even.

He thinks this might be how he dies.

It's one more minute before he's turning his head and pressing lazy kisses into the skin of your thigh, big boba eyes glazed over and staring up at you, all wide and pleading. Your thigh jumps under his mouth, your body reacting even when your emotions seem under control. He thinks maybe this might break you, but you just sigh and keep turning pages, face neutral and eyes still not finding him.

He tries this for a little longer before he can't take it anymore, and he bites. It's not a fun, playful bite either - the area around his teeth marks go red, and the indents are deep enough that you know they're going to bruise. This makes you yelp, the sharp spike of pain something you can't ignore, and he grins triumphantly when you glance down from your book to look at him incredulously.

"Ow, Minnie, what in the world was that for??" You say, swatting at his head once, "Uncalled for. Do you need something?"

He doesn't like the way you worded that at all. He can tell it's deliberate, because there's something meaner hiding in his eyes, and he flushes a bit under your gaze. You've made it about him now, not about you. If he says he wants something now, it makes him look needy.

"Your very handsome, sexy boyfriend is bored," he says, lightly nipping right next to the already-bruising mark he left, "Surely your book isn't that interesting."

"It is," you respond, hand already coming back up to hold it again, "I just need to finish this chapter then we can go to bed. Don't bite me again."

He thinks he might cry. Should that not have been enough to get you to put that god forsaken book down? He knows that the bite has to be throbbing, the skin irritated and discoloring, but you don't even acknowledge the pain beyond the initial yelp. He even gave you his biggest, shiniest boba eyes, the kind of puppy eyes that aren't outright puppy eyes, but have the same effect anyways.

His hips roll once into the bed, his body frustrated with being this turned on for this long. Heat rushes to his cheeks, and he watches your face for a reaction. When he gets nothing, you seemingly being so engrossed in your book that you don't even spare him a glance, he rolls down one more time. The relief of friction is enough for him to rock once, twice, before he stops himself short, clenching his jaw to hold himself back. Humping the bed like a dog? He can't believe he's fallen so low. He can't believe how easily you broke him down like this.

But it hurts so bad. He can feel how much he's leaking, and a wandering hand down to his cock confirms that he's leaked so much that the outside of his jeans are a bit sticky with precum. He doesn't realize that he's breathing heavily until he hears it filling to room. He's panting like a dog in heat, cock leaking and straining in his pants like some puberty-riddled teenager who just discovered boobs on the family computer.

"Please."

It slips out before he can stop it, low and panted out against your skin. You raise an eyebrow but don't look away from your book. He whines, honest to god whines, and he feels the way it makes you shiver.

"You can punish me, you can slap me around, you can do whatever you want," he starts, heat creeping down his chest at the vulgar words slipping out of his mouth, "I don't care. Just-just touch me."

You look like you're thinking for a moment, pondering, before you shake your head. The book in your hand gets bookmarked and placed down on the nightstand, forgotten now that Seungmin has broken down and begged for it without you having to even lift a finger.

"No."

It's all he gets. He makes a choked, confused sound, fingers reaching to dig into the fat of your thigh.

"Please?" He tests, far enough gone to warrant begging.

"No," you start, though it's followed by a long sigh, "Though I suppose if you must get off..."

He nods against your thigh, cheek squishing so cutely you almost think about rescinding your idea, but you stay strong.

"I suppose you can use my thigh."

"What?" He yelps, incredulous.

"You heard me," you say, reaching for your book again, shifting so you're sitting a little more upright against the headboard, "If you want anything from me, you'll have to do it yourself. You can use my thigh to get off."

"Fine," he huffs, horny beyond belief and in a desperate need to prove that he can break you, "Fine. I don't even need your help, anyways."

He shucks his jeans and underwear as fast as he can, though his t-shirt stays on. You see a peek of his hard cock in your peripherals, leaking like a faucet and so red you think for a moment that he won't even make it to your thigh without coming.

He proves to be resilient, though, and soon he's straddling the meat of your thigh. This position is embarrassing, and you're still holding that damn book in between the two of you, but he supposes this is less embarrassing than wanking one out alone or rutting against the mattress.

One experimental roll of his hips is enough to confirm to him that is what he needed. He groans, low and rumbling, a sound that he couldn't quite hold back like he usually would. In actuality, he's pretty sure he's struggling to hold back any sounds, mouth parting into a pretty little 'o' as he moans and rocks against your thigh.

The whole bed is rocking once he loses himself in it, the headboard knocking into the wall as he humps against your bare thigh desperately. Your sleep shorts have streaks of his precum on them now, but you can't acknowledge it, because you're still pretending to read your book. You're pretty sure you've read the same three lines on this page ten times at this point, brain far too focused on the needy puppy on your lap.

He keeps going, movements sloppy and uncoordinated, just chasing his pleasure against the soft flesh of your thigh. Except he can't do it. He feels like he's at the edge, but he can't tip over. It's starting to burn, that's how bad he needs to come, but for some reason he can't. He realizes forlornly that he hasn't come without your guidance in months now, and an embarrassed heat sinks into his skin when he realizes that perhaps now he can't. It feels so good, and the friction is perfect, and he thinks he's coming and coming but nothing's coming out.

He wails, a broken sound, head falling back and tongue lolling out uselessly as he keeps humping, hard and fast and uneven. He's made a slippery mess against your thigh, and it's made a perfect place for him to rock against, but it still isn't enough. He needs your help, it hurts so bad, he can't do it alone anymore, you've broken him.

"Please?" He whimpers, voice cracking and pitchy and a huge juxtaposition to the bratty Seungmin who was mouthing you off earlier.

You let out a long sigh, like he's the greatest inconvenience known to man. You bookmark your book (you haven't flipped a page once, not that he would've noticed) and buck your thigh.

"Off."

He scrambles to listen, mind too scrambled and lust-filled to even think about not listening anymore. You roll over and getting on your hands and knees, glancing at him over your shoulders.

"You can use my thighs. I don't want your dirty cock in me right now." you say, letting your chest fall to meet the bed.

He mounts you just like the desperate puppy he is, cock slipping into the pillow heaven that is between your thighs. You press them together for him and it's over. He's not even saying words anymore, just loud babbles and something that sounds vaguely like your name. He's humping you so hard that sometimes he pulls back too far and his cock slips out from between your thighs, and it makes him let out a devastating whine, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Because while this is better, it's still not enough. He can't do it, he can't. It's still him guiding it, him humping and you just laying there, totally silent and unreactive. He needs you to tell him what to do, he needs you to tell him that he's allowed to let go.

He's choking on his own sounds now, hiccups mixing in with the moans and babbles, a sick gurgling sound choking out every once and a while when his saliva gets thick from crying. He's totally mindless, rutting against you like a dog in heat, cock leaking and leaking but never coming. Everything is on fire and he's sinking and drowning and-

"Dumb puppy," you coo, and his sob turns into something like relief, "Can't do anything yourself, can you?"

He shakes his head dumbly, hips still rocking into you with so much force the mattress shift on the bedframe.

"Apologize for earlier."

And he thinks he does, words spilling out of his mouth, more words than he usually says in a whole day. He's rambling now, humping into you and prattling on and on about how sorry he is and how you have to let him come, please.

You hum, head tilting. "You won't do it again?"

"No!" He wails, hiccuping and slobbering, his voice snotty and tear-filled.

You sigh, and then nod to yourself.

"Okay. Then come."

It's like a trigger word. All the weight that's been sitting on his since he started teasing you, since he decided that he was going to rile you up, shatters, and he's coming. And oh god, it's so much, spurts and spurts of milky come splattering across the bedsheets as he keeps humping you through it. The friction doesn't even feel good anymore, his cock red and angry and aching, but he can't stop his hips anymore, humping into your thighs through every painful thrust as he keeps coming. He's wailing and crying and sobbing out little calls of your name (you think - it's hard to tell what he's saying right now) as he does, like somehow you are the reason he's still humping. Like he's not in control of his own hips.

When you can tell the overstimulation is genuinely hurting him, and that he's finally done coming, you slide your thighs apart, wincing at how sticky they feel. He whimpers as you do, the pressure and warmth of your thighs disappearing around his soft cock.

"Nooooo..." He whines, flopping forward onto you.

His full body weight presses into your back, making your groan.

"Minnie. Puppy. Jagiya. C'mon, get up!"

He shakes his head into your neck, licking long, lazy stripes up it and not moving. He doesn't say anything in response, just somehow presses even further into you. Your knees are going to give out at this rate.

"I need another shower. You can join me this time."

You say it like a person might say the word "walk" to get their dog excited. He perks up, and slides off of you. He doesn't even let you do anything - he just scoops you up and heads towards the shower. You can imagine his metaphorical tail wagging right now as he walks you both to the bathroom, shockingly still strong despite how dumb he is right now. You suppose there will probably be a round two (and three) in the shower at this rate, but you can't complain. Not when you've finally got your brat tamed into a good boy for the night.

his hands roamed your body. he stared and took you in freely as he wished. it was fun until he realized that he just couldn’t go for long, he had to make you release.

he never realized how hard of a task that was until he found out how excessively skilled you were with self-control.

“hwang hyunjin,” you breathed, “make me cum in ten.”

he dropped his weight onto you and latched his mouth on your chest.

“nine.”

he hurriedly stuck a finger inside you.

“eight.”

he curled it, thinking it could elicit something out of you, but it didn’t.

“seven.”

he quickened the pace but you only ever clenched. you kept counting.

“six.”

he added a finger and then another. he tried to stretch you, scissor you, go faster, reach deeper. you stared at him with a cocked eyebrow and nothing more.

“five.”

he was whimpering, lost on what to do. he stood up and stopped sucking on your chest. he repositioned his crotch to align with yours.

“four.”

he slid himself in you and whined louder when you didn’t react at all.

“three.”

“please, please,” was all he could say. he lost all the words. he grew desperate for something, anything. reactions were validation at this point. he wanted to be so good for you.

“two.”

he thrusted hard and fast into you. he rutted and chased his high, hoping it would chase yours, to no avail.

“one.”

“please, mommy, please!” hyunjin cried out, finishing inside you. he trembled as he held onto the ropes lifting your body up.

“oh, poor boy couldn’t make me cum.”

you peered over his face only to see him crying. he was shaking from the overstimulation, the warmth of your walls and his own cum trapping him in a spot that was in between both too good and too much.

“i wanted mommy to feel good. wanted to make them cum. i’m sorry.”

“no need to be sorry baby,” you cooed, “you tried your best.”

“am i good enough?”

your heart shattered. you could see through his glossy eyes. there was a sorrow in it that you haven’t seen from him before.

he’d always been good enough: he was always leagues more than just that. he’s the best one for you, always has and ever will be.

at that, your heart uncontrollably softened. you couldn’t help but be honest.

"P-please...please!"

A small chuckle escapes you, nearly drowned out by the electric buzzing coming from the vibrator you're currently pressing against your boyfriend's cock. He looks like a damn dream, lithe body trembling, hands gripping the sheets below him so tightly that his knuckles are white...and that gorgeous satin blindfold wrapped around his eyes.

"You've only cum twice, baby. You know our rule," You hum, your hand wrapping around the base of his length, moving the vibrator up to his angry red and leaking tip. He cries out, his abs tensing at the almost unbearable pleasure coursing through him. "You have to cum at least five times."

His face twists up, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he frantically shakes his head. "I c-can't...nngh...p-p-please!" He cries out, although his hips betray him as he tries to buck into your hand.

"Shh, yes you can, angel. Mommy's right here to take care of her sweet boy. Just three more and then we can stop."

The sight of his painfully hard dick standing taut against his lower abdomen is always so beautiful to you, and sometimes you wish you could have it etched into your eyelids. The feeling of his cock twitching and leaking all over your hand might serve as competition though.

"Fuck, f-fuck!" His voice comes out in a whine, his entire body writhing as the third orgasm rips through him. His cum coats your entire hand, making a small moan escape you. "M-mommy please..." He whimpers, one of his hands letting go of the sheets and blindly reaching out for you - a rule he's not allowed to break, but it's obvious that he's more overwhelmed than usual, so you intertwine your hand with his to remind him that you're there.

"I'm here, angel, I'm here." You say sweetly, but his grip only tightens on your hand.

"I-I need it...o-off! Nngh- ah! Please...p-please!"

You're confused for a moment before realizing that he's talking about the blindfold, a loud whimper escaping him at the painful overstimulation from the vibrator still buzzing against his tip. You don't want to push him too far since the aftermath is never fun for either of you, so you remove your hand from his length and reach up to carefully pull the satin material off from around his head, though your breath gets caught in your throat as your eyes meet his.

Gorgeous, sparkling tears have welled in his wide eyes, now slipping down his flushed cheeks. His swollen lips are parted, desperate pants escaping him as he tries to fight off his fourth orgasm. He looks ethereal.

"You're so pretty when you cry..." You murmur, removing your hand from his so your thumb could gently grace the side of his face, eliciting the sweetest sounding moan from him at your mere touch.

His eyes squeeze shut, wet lashes sticking to his soft skin as the tears continue to paint his cheeks. His hips buck yet again, his eyes opening to find yours.

The sound of his whiny, raspy cries almost puts you into a damn trance, but his words are quick to keep you grounded. "I- ah~! I n-need your...fingers." He desperately tries to bring your hand up to his mouth. "F-f-fingers, please."

Normally you're in full control over him, but in times like this, you can't help but give him what he wants. Besides, he sounds beautiful when he begs.

"Open up then, baby, they're right here." Your voice makes him whimper yet again, mouth falling open as you slip two cum covered fingers inside, his plush lips closing around them. It makes sense why he needed them as his fourth orgasm washes over him the moment your fingertips are meeting his tongue. "That's my good boy...fuck, you sound amazing." A groan escapes you as his body trembles and shakes, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head at the now painful pleasure, but he loves it so much.

He begins to cry harder, tears wetting his sweaty neck, his tongue working on your fingers like they're the sweetest lollipop he's ever sucked on. He can taste his cum that was coating your fingers, his cock twitching as a result. He's completely overwhelmed, not knowing what to do with himself as he helplessly sucks on your digits and cries.

"One more for me, Hwa. Be my little angel and cum for me one last time." You coo, knowing that he needs the extra support to push him over the edge.

He's desperately pulling your fingers from his mouth as your words help his fifth and final orgasm slam into him, his cum shooting up and coating his stomach. "Mommy!" He cries, body falling forward into yours as he shakes, his muscles aching with the strength of the pleasure coursing through him.

You only leave the vibrator long enough to help him ride out his high before quickly turning it off and tossing it aside, gathering him into your arms. "Shh, take deep breaths...you did so good for me, baby." You whisper, one of your hands soothing over his hair.

His entire body is trembling, cock numb, hair damp, and tears still streaming down his face, but he wouldn't want to be anywhere else or with anyone else in this moment. "I love you." He whimpers out, hands weakly rubbing your back as he grounds himself.

A small smile appears on your face as you turn to press a feather light kiss against his temple. "I love you too, Hwa."

Once he's completely back on earth, you whisk him away for a calming bath, and if anyone were to see you two whispering sweet words, tangled in each other's arms beneath the warm water, they wouldn't have the slightest clue that he was a shaking mess for you only minutes ago.