#sub!donghyuck

The theory of genders having specific power roles was something you'd always been opposed to, as you do not believe a gender determines a level of power. Truthfully, you couldn't care less if your boyfriend wanted to break gender stereotypes or not — damn, he could wear 'girly' clothes and/or put make up on if he wanted to — but you did care about what he thought of himself.

He didn't like it when people commented on how much younger he looked than he was. He didn't like it when people described him as feminine instead of masculine. He didn't like it when people [excluding you and some of his friends] called him cute. He didn't think that having any of those characteristics was wrong; he just didn't want people to call him those things.

"Please?" He attempted to lure you in with his gleaming puppy eyes – which usually worked – but that method didn't work this time around, because the great amount of vexation he had brought to you today had made you fully resistant to his cuteness.

"No, I don't want to hurt you," you answered with a blank face, trying your best to find a seemingly interesting movie on Netflix, that you hadn't already seen, so your boyfriend could give up his dumb quest. It was a little confusing why he wanted to try these types of thing with you, knowing how he felt about being belittled by others.

"I thought you said that we should always be honest with each other and always be ourselves," he argued, making a valid point since you had said those words from the start of your relationship.

"But I also said I never wanted us to hurt each other," you retorted in defense, feeling more and more irritated by the second.

Leaning and sinking down a little bit on the sofa, Haechan wanted to be more comfortable as he knew this conversation would be long. Chewing on the strings of his pink hoodie, he looked at and studied you; frown, annoyed sighs, hard grip on the remote, darker lips from biting on them – everything pointed at you being mad, and thus rather sensitive.

Then a bulb lit above his head.

"But what if I like it when you hurt me?"

You turned your head to his side. There it was. Exactly what he wanted to see. An expression on your face that told him that if he continued this route, he would get fucked. Whether it was literally or metaphorically, he wanted to find out.

"I'm leaving," you announced and stood up as quickly as the short sentence ended. You had to leave, because Haechan was pushing your buttons and you knew that if you stayed for longer you could end up doing what you had been trying to avoid since he had found out about the femdom part of you.

His face changed from calm puppy to clingy puppy with separation anxiety, scared of its owner leaving. This was not the reaction he had tried to get from you. He stood up and followed your fast steps to the bedroom. As soon as he saw you throw one of your biggest bags onto the floor, followed up by some clothing pieces, he felt his blood freeze. Were you leaving as in leaving the relationship?

"Why are you packing?" he asked, scared of your answer.

"I'm going to Irene's. I can't stay with you when you're making me crazy like this." What you said was true; you were sure he'd crack your patience and make you go full sadist on him if you stayed in the same room as him for another minute – or even worse: another hour or whole night.

He felt relieved that you weren't breaking up with him over a silly argument, but he still didn't want you to stay over at your friend's when you both knew that it would be smarter to solve the tension instead.

"Stay with me," he pleaded lowly, sensing he didn't have many other options than pleading and hoping it'd be persuasive enough for you to stay with him.

"We need a night without each to calm down and have an adult discussion, alright?" you tried to explain, grabbing your now-fully-packed bag, and heading to the door to continue your journey to your awesome best friend.

When Haechan didn't talk back, you turned away from the doorway and to the bed to see why he was being quiet and not protesting some more like he usually would. He was looking you in the eyes as he pulled the hoodie off his torso and threw it your way. You caught it in your hand. Proceeding, he pulled down his pants, making sure he did it slowly enough to send you signals that he wasn't planning on putting on his PJs.

As he stood in only his boxers in front of you, a new bulb lit up above his head – and this one was even brighter than the last one – maybe he did have more options than to plead and strip.

With a smirk he sat down on the foot of the bed, maintaining eye contact, and pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. You were speechless when he had stripped down to almost full nudity, but what shocked you the most was that just speaking to him disrespectfully had turned him on.

The moment he started touching his cock and moaning like a bitch, you realized that he had purposely been naughty so you could punish him. He had whined in you ear all day, stripped and masturbated when you wanted to leave because he wanted this; he wanted to be punished.

So, you decided to do it.

You dropped the bag and went to your wardrobe, taking out a box you'd kept secret from Haechan. He looked your way curiously, analyzing your reaction while still stroking his cock rudely. Damn, he hoped you were doing something femdom related.

"Safeword?" you asked, examining the nostalgic box of memory-making apparatuses, trying to decide which ones you wanted to use to make memories tonight.

"Sun," he answered, smiling at the victory; he was going to get fucked literally.

"I hope you understand that I'm going to have to punish you for being such a naughty boy."

"Yes, Mommy," he said oh so naturally.

You looked back at him after he said the last word, watching him lay down on the bed, boxers in a random corner of the room. He seemed experienced or like he'd had a fantasy about calling you that word for a while, no stutter, and thankfully that made it easier for you decide on which toys to use on him.

"Naughty boys don't deserve to touch Mommy," you turned to him with a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs. He blushed a little, not expecting the object you chose to punish him with to be so adorable. Did he seriously think that was all you were going to use as punishment when he'd riled you up like this?

How cute.

Walking slowly to him, you threw the cuffs onto the bed beside his legs and startled him a bit at the suddenness of the action. He had teased you, and you wanted to make sure he'd feel teased as well – and what better way to do that than to use one of his biggest weaknesses against him? Smirking, you pulled off your shirt, leaving your upper body in only a bra – a pink one. He had always liked that color – though he denied it since it wasn't manly to like pink.

You climbed on top of his body and took the cuffs in your hands again, getting ready to restrain him. He was breathing heavily, getting aroused by your body above his, and especially by your boobs that were clad in such a lovely color. Although he liked the bra, he would've loved to see your boobs without anything covering them.

"Hold your arms up for me, Channie," you ordered, to which he listened to instantly. He held them up against the bed frame, assuming you were going to cuff him to it. But he was wrong. You didn't want him to predict his punishment; you wanted everything to be a surprise that not even his fantasy could come close to.

Instead of cuffing his wrists to the frame of the bed, you cuffed them to nothing. Yes, nothing. It may sound boring to restrain your partner to nothing, but it was the opposite; restraining him to air meant that he still could choose to disobey you further by bringing his arms down. "You're going to keep your arms here, and if you at any point put them down and touch me it'll add to your punishment, understood?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Oh, don't act like a good boy all of a sudden. You're getting punished for a reason, Haechannie," you scoffed lightly, feeling soft from the sweetness that seemed to ooze naturally whether he tried to or not.

"But I am a good boy," he pouted, adding to the cuteness you adored so much.

"Only if you can manage this punishment, but until then you're a bad boy," you explained and turned back to the box to grab the last part of the punishment. He continued pouting, until he saw the object you took out: a strap on. After removing your pants, you put the fake dick on and adjusted it to your hips.

The strap wasn't bigger than the average dick as you didn't know how used he was to having dildos shoved up his ass – and even though you wanted to hurt him, you were still cautious over how harsh you were with him. He was your squishy Haechannie after all.

"You ready, Channie?" you asked as you crawled back to him, searching his face for any uncertainty. His big eyes and toothy smile hinted at him anticipating what you were about to do, but you still wanted a verbal answer as you wanted to make sure he was OK with being pegged.

He nodded quickly, "Yes, Mommy, I'm always ready for you."

✧ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

❝ Violins playin' and the angels cryin'

When the stars align, then I'll be there

No, I don't care about them all

'Cause all I want is to be loved

And all I care about is you

You're stuck on me like a tattoo

No, I don't care about the pain

I'll walk through fire and through rain

Just to get closer to you

You're stuck on me like a tattoo ❞

“Let me touch you, please,” you pant out, already slipping one hand underneath his t-shirt.

His reaction’s fast yet predictable after so many attempts: he playfully pushes your hands away, almost like it’s an element of foreplay, but no, it’s not. And it’s not the first time it happened either, but usually you simply let it go because as long as he’s happy you’re happy. However, you can’t always control the hurt that overcomes your senses when his body tenses next to yours from the mere touch of your fingers.

“Donghyuck,” you say, pushing him away when he tries to kiss you again.

For some reason, he loves touching you, yet he never lets you touch him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks immediately with a worried expression on his face.

“Funny, I was about to ask the same thing,” you chuckle bitterly, looking up at him.

“I don’t understand,” he says, sitting up, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Do you not like it when I touch you? Every time I try to do so, you push me away,” you sigh, rubbing your forehead with your hand.

“Of course not,” Donghyuck answers without hesitation.

“Quite the opposite, I’d say,” he adds quieter, averting his eyes bashfully as pretty blush blossoms on his cheeks.

For someone so outspoken, blunt even, he becomes adorably shy when he has to put his feelings into words. It makes them even more precious in your eyes.

“In fact, the mere brush of your fingers makes me feel like I’m a teenager again,” he chuckles hesitantly taking one of your hands into his.

“Then why won’t you let me touch you?” you repeat, a little confused by his answer.

“I want to, I really do, I just–,” he trails off, lowering his head in defeat with a sigh.

“I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do, Hyuck. I’m just asking for an explanation because your silent rejection hurts me.”

“No, no, I don’t–,” he starts but cuts himself off almost immediately shaking his head.

He’s visibly conflicted: his eyes glued to the floor, teeth gnawing at his lower lip anxiously as he absent-mindedly caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. Finally, he takes a shaky breath and looks up at you with a determined stare.

“My body’s not an attractive one,” he starts hesitantly, long eyelashes brushing his cheekbones as he lowers his eyes bashfully.

“I never got a proper treatment, so my skin’s covered with scars. They’re everywhere, really, those jagged thick lines that make me look unsightly, and I–,” he cuts himself off again, biting on his lower lip harshly before continuing.

“You probably noticed that I don’t like to show off my skin, that I prefer to cover myself as much as possible. It’s because I don’t want people to gape at me because of them, and, well, I don’t want you to see them either.”

All those long slaved t-shirts, jackets, and oversized hoodies – all this time you thought that it’s just his style. It never crossed your mind that there’s something behind it, and it makes you feel ashamed that it never occurred to you. But now, now it all makes sense: the fact that he prefers to take a shower when none’s around, the fact that he never undressed in front of you no matter how many times you subtly hinted that you definitely wouldn’t mind that.

“Tell me Hyuck, do you really think I wouldn’t find you attractive because of that?” you ask in a serious tone, gently grabbing his chin to make him look at you.

“I–I don’t know,” he stutters out, suddenly not sure.

“But I like everything about your appearance, love,” you say matter-of-factly, causing him to make a rather dumbfounded face.

“What?” he mutters in disbelief.

“You heard me, Donghyuck. I like your pretty smile, I like how your eyes shine when you’re happy, I like to see you getting all hot and bothered around me,” you chuckle tenderly caressing his cheek with your fingertips.

“I really like you because it’s you, Hyuck. I swear to god, I like you so fucking much you probably can’t even imagine.”

“I–I really like you too,” he stutters out bashfully with the softest of smiles playing on his lips as he rubs his face into your hand.

“Besides, it doesn’t really matter how you look, I’m still going to like you in the end. I fell for your personally in the first place, your handsome face’s more like a pleasant addition,” you say jokingly, hoping to make him feel more at ease.

When you kiss him, it’s tender and careful, and it’s your turn to be afraid that you’re going to be pushed away. What a crazy feeling it is, really, when you wear your heart on your sleeve, and anxiously wait for it to be crashed.

“May I?” you ask, gently tugging at the hem of his t-shirt.

He nods slowly, more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen him being.

Slowly, oh so slowly, you pull the fabric up his chest, not looking away from his eyes even for a moment. When it reaches his shoulders, he rises his arms wordlessly, letting you take it off completely. He’s still nervous, you can tell.

“Hyuck,” you murmur carefully pressing your lips against his.

The world could have ended here and now, and neither of you’d give a single fuck.

“May I?” you ask once again, the tone of your voice even softer this time.

“Yeah,” he answers just as softly.

You move away then to take a proper look at him, and for the love of god, you have to swallow hard seeing his upper body for the first time: his neck thick yet somehow still graceful, sharp collarbones nicely emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders, muscled chest that melts into a slim waist.

The biggest scar is placed on his left breast just above the nipple, another one similar in length adorns the skin on his ribs while a few smaller ones are scattered over his lower abdomen. You can also see some jagged lines on his biceps and forearms, but not as much as on his chest. When he takes a shaky breath, the muscles of his abdomen tense, and you want to scream, really. All this time he was truly worried about your reaction, hiding his body from you in fear of being pushed away, yet here you’re being more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life. You want to touch him, you want to kiss him, you want to embrace him – you want him.

“Donghyuck,” you say in a trembling voice, desperately trying to get yourself together.

“You don’t like it, do you,” he murmurs, lowering his head in shame.

You can’t help but chuckle as you shake your head firmly.

“Oh, love, you can’t even imagine how hard it’s for me to keep my hands to myself right now. You’re so fucking gorgeous, it’s not even funny,” you sigh, raking your fingers through your hair.

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out. For a moment you’re just sitting there quietly, not looking at each other.

“What,” he finally croaks out, completely stupefied.

“I know how worried you were about my reaction, Hyuck, but, fuck, you look so good I can barely process it.”

He’s shocked by your words, but then you look up at him, and he’s taken aback even more by the pure desire that swirls in your suddenly darkened eyes – you look at him like you want to eat him up, and this time it’s him who can barely process it.

“Your body’s just so fine. If I add that fact on top of your personality, I don’t think I’ll be able to cope with how perfect you’re,” you groan rubbing your face with one of your hands.

“You think I’m perfect?”

Maybe it’s the way he says it; soft and a little unsure, maybe it’s the way he looks at you with those dark eyes of his – either way, you can’t help yourself. A surprised gasp leaves his lips when you push him onto his back and straddle his thighs. You make sure to hold an eye contact with him as you lean forward and press a kiss to that big scar on his breast, not missing the opportunity to lick his nipple oh-so-accidentally. The way he bites his lower lip trying to not make any more sounds causes you to smirk.

“Hyuck, love, you know that I like to hear you.”

He knows that very well. When you rub yourself against him teasingly, curses mixed soft moans start to fall from his swollen lips. Lovely.

“You sound like an angel,” you murmur before placing another kiss on his warm skin.

His hands move towards your hips, but you have none of it –you grab his wrists swiftly and place his arms above his head. One stare from you is enough for him to know that it’s better for him to stay this way until you say otherwise.

“Please, fucking hell, please,” he groans when you start to move your hips in a circular motion, the friction making him giddy with pleasure.

His body’s hot all over, and he’s not even sure what exactly made him feel that way. Is it because of your words? Because of your body pressed tightly into his? Because of your hungry stare? He doesn’t know. He only knows that he’s losing his head for you and for you only, and that he absolutely loves it.

“Do you have any other scars that I could kiss?” you whisper into his ear as your fingers caress his sides teasingly.

“Y–yeah,” he murmurs shyly in the answer, causing you to move away slightly and rise your brow at him with a suggestive smirk playing on your lips.

His face’s on fire when he motions you to get off him, so he can stand up. Your eyes follow his movements greedily as he unzips his pants with shaky hands and pushes them down his thighs, uncovering another collection of scars. There’s more of them than on his chest, but they’re smaller and less jagged, however, they cover his whole expanse of his legs.

“Um, well, now you’ve seen it all,” he says jokingly, but the anxiety in his expression betrays him.

You stand up slowly, and look him straight in the eyes as the tips of your fingers move over his chest, his abdomen, and hips, gently exploring the scarred skin. He lowers his head to kiss you, his naked body pressed against your still clothed one. When you motion him onto the bed, and kneel between his legs, he’s barely breathing.

“Honestly, what are you doing to me,” he chuckles, raking fingers through his tangled hair.

“Nothing you don’t want me to,” you answer simply with a smirk just before your lips meet the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.

You make sure to kiss every single scar you spot on his thighs, placing hickeys here and there as your hands teasingly move up his knee and back. Your lips move up without rush even though you know, or rather see, how turned on he already is – you just like to tease him. He knows that too.

“You like to play with me, don’t you? Almost like you want to expand the boundaries of my patience,” he rolls his eyes at you with an adorable pout to which you can’t help but laugh.

“Isn’t it nicer when you have to wait for something rather than to get it immediately?” you ask in the answer, and he rolls his eyes again, not wanting to admit that he agrees with you.

When you finally take the tip of his cock into your mouth, he grabs the sheets, so tightly his knuckles turn white. You take your time even then, slowly taking more and more of his length into your mouth to not strain yourself. Besides, is there something better than a desperate man completely at your mercy? You think not.

“My goodness,” he groans hoarsely as you finally swallow around him, his whole body shaking from the effort as he somehow manages to not thrust into your mouth.

Soon your jaw starts to hurt, but you don’t even think about stopping – his reactions make it all worth it. There’s nothing you love to hear more than your name said in that breathy, desperate tone that he uses when he chants that one word like some kind of prayer. His eyes are closed tightly when you look up at him, thick brows furrowed, deep blush colouring his cheeks – gorgeous.

“What a shame you can’t see yourself right now,” you say breathlessly as your fingers curl around his length.

“You look absolutely magnificent.”

Your hand moves faster and faster until he can’t control himself any more and starts to thrust into your fist. You know that it won’t take long for him to orgasm– he’s far too gone at this point.

“Come, Donghyuck,” you say nonchalantly as you twist your wrist expertly.

And he does: his muscles tensing, eyes rolling back as he falters and falls onto his back, breathing heavily. After helping him ride his orgasm, you sit on the bed next to him, and stroke his head soothingly, leaning forward from time to time to place a kiss to his sweaty skin.

“You did so well, love,” you tell him, caressing the scars on his chest with your free hand.

He takes some time to get down from his high before he manages to get up and clean himself up. You’re already waiting for him in the bed when he comes back and snuggles against you with a content sigh.

“Beautiful,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Donghyuck smiles softly in the answer as he tangles his fingers with yours.

You roll your eyes, annoyed at how quickly his patience had worn thin. Once he got in these moods, you knew he wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted, but that didn't mean you were gonna give in that easily. 

"Like I said 30 seconds ago, I have to finish this. Wait."

He pouts, dropping his chin onto your shoulder and whining. His phone was long discarded onto the couch next to him, choosing you instead as his new form of entertainment. 

You ignore him, trying to finish the document you were working on drafting. That is, until he grabs one of your hands. 

He plays with your fingers and you just let him, refusing to look over or give him any satisfaction whatsoever of him interrupting what you were doing. When he sees no reaction from you, he brings your hand down, placing it on top of his crotch and his hard little problem.

"How about now?" He asks again, equal parts hope and mischief in his voice. 

"Nope," you reply simply, patting his crotch twice before bringing your hand back to the keyboard. He lets out a low noise at your action, and turns to grab his phone again.

You want to believe that's the end of it, but you know your boyfriend. And sure enough, you're proved right when he tosses his phone to the side again a couple minutes later. Before you even realize what it is he's going to do, his lips attach themselves to your ear. He softly bites and licks along the cartilage, moaning softly in your ear. 

"How about now?" He asks one last time, and brings his hand up to squeeze your breast to punctuate the last word. 

He was, quite literally, asking for it. 

You slammed your laptop closed, causing Donghyuck to flinch a little at the sound. But when you look over at him, all you see is smugness on his features. He's knows you're finally gonna give him attention and he's living for it.

You grab his wrist, pulling it off of you and using it to drag him down the hall to your bedroom. When you get there, you turn him around and push him on the bed hard, and he laughs. 

"Finally," he says, seeing you absolutely fuming and choosing to ignore it. He pulls his shirt over his head as he speaks, not waiting for permission or anything. "I've been waiting so long." 

"That's what you call waiting?" You ask him. "I really needed to finish that."

"And I really needed you."

You take a deep breath, trying your hardest to keep your composure as you remove your shirt and pants. He watches you as you do, and takes your actions as a cue for him to remove his pants as well. 

You turn around without a word, going to your drawer to grab something. He cranes his neck to try to see what, but you keep them out of his line of sight until you reach him and he can see the ties in your hand. A flash of fear crosses his features before he remains his cocky facade. 

"Why can't you ever behave?" You ask him.

"Because I don't want to," he responds.

"Can't even answer a question simply, can you?" You climb on him as you speak, and his hands immediately try to go up to grab your ass. You smack them off quickly, using the ties in your hand to quickly hit his, and his hands fall away.

"Lay back."

"No."

He struggles against you as you try to push him down, but when you move your hands to brush your thumbs against his sensitive nipples, he falters for just long enough for you to push him back by the shoulders. He whines as you pull his arms up over his head, but doesn't fight back nearly as hard as you tie his wrists together and secure them to the headboard. 

But when he sees the blindfold in your hand, it's a different story. 

Donghyuck loves touching you, teasing you as you have his way with him. He could handle not being able to do that. But not being able to see you, too? That's too much. 

"No, no, please," he begs softly, shaking his head wildly in an attempt to prevent you from being able to wrap the cloth around his head. You grab his chin, sternly holding his head in place, locking your eyes with his. 

"Now you wanna behave, huh?" You ask, and you chuckle at his wide eyes. "Too late."

You cover his eyes and move to bring the fabric behind his head, ignoring his whines and protests as you secure it firmly around his head. When you let go, he drops his head down.

"I don't like this game." He tells you, pulling at his restraints already and pouting. 

"Are you sure?" You ask him, crawling up his body to place a kiss on his pouty lips. He chases yours as you detach from him, moving down to his neck, softly kissing around the sensitive column. 

"I think you do."

You suck down on the skin right under his ear, and he gasps at the feeling, shuddering slightly under your touch. 

"You wanna know what I think?" You ask him, starting to trail kisses down."I think, deep down, you like being spoiled. Desperate. I think you act like a brat because you know I'll put you in your place. I think you want me to fucking wreck you."

He whimpers at your words, and at the feeling of your lips getting lower and lower, kissing down and down until they reach the spot on his soft stomach right under his belly button. And still, you bring your lips lower, hovering them right over the bulge in his boxers, allowing your breath to fan over the fabric and the wet spot his excitement has created on them. 

And then you pull away completely. 

"But, I mean, if I'm wrong, I could always just leave you here."

He panics, thrashing as much as he can with his limited range of motion.

"No, no, don't," he pleads, breaths already sounding labored. 

You remove your underwear while you're up, leaving your bra on. You go to your drawer quickly to grab something else, placing it on the bed next to him as you come back, sitting on your heels in between his legs. 

"And why not?" You ask, your tone teasing.

"Cuz I want you."

"Is that so? What do you want me to do?"

"Fucking touch me."

"Ooh," you say, moving so your face hovered mere inches away from his, grabbing his chin again and turning it down so you could be level with him. "So demanding for such a needy baby boy."

He gulps at your words, but doesn't respond. You move away, back down his body and he perks up, hoping you're finally going to give him what he wants. But you bring your hands to the inside of his biceps, letting your nails drag along the sensitive skin there as you attach your lips to one of his nipples. 

He gasps at the feeling, trying to pull his arms down to hide the exposed skin to no avail, the ties keeping him securely in place. His moans come out breathy at the feelings along his sensitive skin. You suck at the nub, swirling your tongue around it before you release, and blow lightly on it. He shudders when the cool air hits him. 

"Is this where you wanted me to touch?" You ask, and he starts to answer before you cut him off, attaching yourself to his other nipple and giving it the same treatment. His words die on his lips, replaced instead by a long moan. When he composes himself enough to answer, his voice is strained.

"No.”

"No?" You ask tauntingly, moving from that area to instead give him soft kisses on the inside of his thighs, letting your nails rake along the tops of them before echoing his words back at him. "How about now?"

He rocks his hips at the feeling, bending his legs and squirming around uncontrollably at the feeling. Donghyuck is always sensitive, but with the lack of vision everything is just so much more heightened. 

"No," he repeats, his voice more whiny and slurred than before. You don't respond this time, and instead silently sit back up. 

"How about now?" 

You bring your hand down to graze over his clothed member, nails dragging up and down, up and down over the fabric. He groans, thrusting his hips up hard into the feeling, and you place a hand on his hip and shove them down, holding them in place.

"Yes, but no," he whines. 

You remove your hands completely and he whimpers, unable to help it. You can't hide the smile on your face as you taunt him.

"Well dammit, Donghyuck. What do you want then?"

"Take them off," he rasps, and he's already panting, sounding so desperate that you almost feel bad for him. Almost.

"Oh, silly me. Of course."

He lets out a sigh of relief as he lifts his hips, and you use the motion to grab his boxers and pull them down his legs. He drops his hips back down with a smirk, and before he even says anything, you can tell that he's got a dumb idea in his head. 

"There you go," he says, daring to sound smug despite everything. "I was starting to think you forgot how to fuck me properly."

You seethe at his comment, but decide not to say anything. Instead, you pick up the item you discarded before, and let it speak for itself as you turn it on, the sounds of vibrations filling the air. 

You can't help but smile at how his face falls.

"No, no, wait," he starts, attempting to talk himself out of the corner he backed himself into, but it's too late. 

He yells as you grab his dick and place the vibrator, set to medium, right under his head.

Donghyuck hated vibrators, but not because he didn't find them enjoyable, but because they had the unmatched ability to slingshot him over the edge, and with the increased sensitivity built up by your teasing and the blindfold, he knew he was doomed.

He reacts immediately, pushing his hips up into the feeling of pleasure and pulling them away from the overwhelming vibrations. You follow his movements, using one hand to cradle the back of his dick as you press the vibrator into him, moving it in tight circles right under the ridge.

"Holy hell," he cries, twitching and squirming and moaning and getting closer and closer. He twists the ties around his wrists, grabbing onto the fabric securing his hands there so hard his knuckles turn white. You bring your supporting hand up just a little bit, and you use your thumb to press into the underside of the head, rubbing it in small, firm circles. 

He breaks instantly.

"I'm close! I'm close!" He's yelling at this point, whining and groaning without any shame or care about his volume. You still your thumb, and flick the switch on the vibrator down to low. He whines at the decrease in stimulation.

"Do you have something you want to ask me?"

"Please, please, please, can I cum? I need to cum. Can I, please? Please?"

You chuckle, satisfied at his begging.

"Of course, baby boy," you tell him, and before he has the chance to say anything else, you flick at the switch again, turning it to high as your thumb resumes its actions. 

His reaction is instantaneous, almost screaming as his orgasm hits him hard and fast. His release spills all over your hand and his stomach in long, sticky ribbons, and you keep the stimulation going until it stops. You turn the vibrator off and toss it to the side, and you reach your other hand around to untie his blindfold. 

He blinks a couple times as his eyes readjust, and then looks up at you. You see the snide remark he has in his head before he even has a chance to say it. So instead, you move forward to sit on his hips, and take your cum stained fingers and shove them in his mouth. 

He makes a surprised noise at the intrusion, but doesn't complain as he tastes himself, sucking on your digits and swirling his lips around them to collect every drop onto his tongue.

It's truly sinful; Donghyuck laying there with his hair matted with sweat and his arms spread wide and his eyes just slightly out of focus as he sucks on your fingers. It burns red hot arousal into your belly. 

You remove your fingers from between his lips, and he's still catching his breath when he looks up at you and smirks. You can hear it now; the little brat bragging about you giving him attention, about how he always gets what he wants. You can't have that. 

He parts his lips, his comment dangling on the tip of his tongue when you pick your hips up and grind them down right onto his dick.

His eyes roll back into his head, and whatever he was gonna say melts away with the rest of his brain, leaving a long, high pitched moan behind instead.

It's your turn to smirk now as you do it again, setting a pace to grind down on him again and again, and his arms immediately start fighting with the restraints, trying to somehow free himself. 

"Shit, shit, shit," he whimpers, his voice cracking on the syllables as you overstimulate him. 

"Did you think I wasn't gonna cum?" You ask him, and all he can manage is a whine in response. You reach behind you and unclip your bra, throwing it to the side before speaking again.

"It's not all about you, baby."

You set a slow pace, more concerned with the way and force of your bare clit grinding against him than the pace, and not wanting to overwhelm him.

"Too much," he manages to moan out, and your hips falter for a minute. 

"Do you want me to stop?" You ask, but he's shaking his head before you even finish getting the words out. 

"Please, please, please don't stop," he begs, and he sounds so desperate that you push down harder on him. The friction feels amazing, and your juices drip down onto him, smearing across his still hard dick and allowing you to move easier. You feel yourself getting close just as he is, the fiery ball in your gut threatening to detonate any minute. 

"Getting close. So good," he sobs, and you see the tears spilling down onto his cheeks, the pleasure consuming all of his senses. 

"Me too, baby boy."

"Want to come inside you," he says, the words sounding strangled at this point. You lean down, to bring your face close to his.

"Baby boy, you can't always get what you want." He moans louder, but tries his luck one last time. 

"Want to touch you," he says instead, and his voice is frantic. You can hear just how close he is from the pure energy in his words. You think it over for a second. 

"Fine," you reply, but make no move to loosen his hands. He realizes quickly, and as you start to sit back up, he leans forward and sucks a nipple into his mouth. You groan, pushing yourself harder against him, and the motion sets off a chain reaction, triggering both your orgasms. 

He cums with your chest in his mouth, trying and failing to muffle his sounds as he screams and trembles through it. You screw your eyes shut, lost in waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You roll off of him when you're both done, immediately moving to wipe his tears away and kiss all over his cheeks, helping to calm him down. He melts into the feeling, letting his eyes flutter closed at the feeling. You reach up to loosen his wrists, and bring his arms down as you rub at the tender skin to soothe it.

You move quickly to get a rag to help clean up the layers of release on his stomach, and he lets out a low sound, the sensitive skin twitching under your touch. You discard it when you're finished and you cuddle into each other, your naked bodies sticking together as you lazily kiss. It's soft and playful and peaceful, and you move some of his hair off his face.

"Gorgeous," you tell him, stroking his face softly, and he leans forward and gives your lips an extra peck in response that causes you to giggle.

"You're good?" You ask him.

"Perfect."

You snuggle closer into him, wrapping an arm around his torso as you rest your head on his chest. He plays with your hair as you lay there in comfortable silence.

That is, until he speaks.

"I knew you'd pay attention to me," he mutters, the smirk evident in his tone.

You chuckle and slap his chest lightly, not even dignifying that with a response as you lay together, allowing sleep to creep in as you fall asleep together.

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