Foreverdy

Reblogging fics that I like ♡

[justwritedreams]

Yours | Doyoung

Husband!Doyoung x Reader, mafia au! Word count: 2281 Genre: smut. Warning: Rough sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), no protection (don't do this at home), praising, riding, cum eating, swearing, like pretty explicit words, nicknames (angel, baby girl), jealous Doyoung, Johnny being a little sassy, me putting a ridiculous gang name. MINORS DNI!!! THIS IS A 18+ STORY Author: Maari Note: Soooo hehe this is really filthy and I'm proud of it!! Since you wanted a smut with a jealous doyoung so badly, I decided to combine all these requests into one. So enjoy! Requests: can i ask for nct husband!doyoung + jealous, nct doyoung + praising, doyoung x praising x riding, jealous!doyoung smut

⪢ NCT Masterlist

You weren't stupid.

Your husband's business dinner had only one purpose, intimidation and your company mitigated that a bit, but the glances Johnny cast at your bust was dangerous. Mainly because your husband had also noticed, after all he wouldn't have gripped your waist so tightly if he hadn't noticed.

And the more ironic Johnny was, the more your husband clenched his jaw and laughed sarcastically.

While you were quiet, not afraid to say something, but because there would be nothing you could do to convince Johnny to go over to the side of the Neo gang.

Deep down you knew that Johnny was doing that to try to convince himself that it wasn't the best option, but he wasn't helping Doyoung to stay calm at all. And it made it worse when Johnny brought his attention to you.

"I'll come to your side if I have a beauty like that waiting for me." he said, looking straight at you.

Your response was to take a deep breath and look away at your husband. If Doyoung could kill Johnny with just his eyes, he would. Because the way he was staring at the man sitting across from him was like he could torture him, and in a way he could.

"Be careful if you want to keep your head on your neck." Doyoung spoke softly but in such an intimidating way that you felt every hair on your body stand on end. After that, dinner got even more tense. If Doyoung didn't keep his hand on your waist, he certainly had it on your thigh. Though you should have been scared of him, because seeing him mad wasn't the best thing in the world, the heat his hand radiated on your bare thigh might have sent a few shivers up your spine. And well, remembering what those hands, but specifically those fingers, were capable of doing to you was making you a little dizzy. It wasn't just the wine.

He was so close, if he went up a few more inches...

But Doyoung's hand stayed there, just squeezing your exposed skin, the whole dinner as if it was some kind of torture. Until finally he and Johnny agreed on something you didn't even pay attention to. And neither could you, because even looking at Johnny was a dangerous game you weren't going to fall for.

You were past the stage of being the bad girl. Your black wedding ring on your finger indicated as much. But Johnny wasn't done with the teasing yet, he made a move to say goodbye to you with a hug but Doyoung, seeing his intentions, pulled you by the waist and positioned his body in front of you in a protective and possessive way. Making Johnny laugh. “Don't worry, I don't intend to steal your woman.” “My wife. Remember that next time." Johnny raised his hands in surrender and you just took your hand to your husband's arm that was holding you by the waist, in a weak and failed attempt to make him calm down.

The way to the car and the journey to your house was in pure silence except for Doyoung's heavy breathing, you could see his fingertips turning white from how tightly he held the steering wheel and however much you wanted to say or do something to help him, you knew that at that moment the best thing to do was just remain silent.

His eyes scanned the street as if his thoughts were wandering on the myriad ways to torture Johnny. When you arrived and he opened the door for you, standing behind your body, you only managed to take a deep breath before Doyoung dropped the keys on any piece of furniture in the room, grabbed the back of your neck and made you turn so that the lips collided. The kiss was hurried and careless, his fingers tangled in the strands of your hair as his tongue thirstily sought yours. Doyoung tasted like wine but that wasn't the only thing that intoxicated you, it was the way his other hand held your waist with possession as he brought his body close to yours and felt the heat. He then abandoned your lips, trailing wet kisses down your cheek, jaw and neck. Where he didn't stop at just kisses, with goose bumps all over your skin and your head tilted to the side giving him full access, Doyoung preoccupied himself with sucking, biting and licking your skin. Every tiny inch he could mark and feel. Feeling his furious teeth against your skin was enough for you to start moaning low and grinding your hips against his, bringing your hands to his back and being prevented from leaving scratches all over the place thanks to his clothing. But it didn't stop you from digging your nails in any way.

The fact that you felt that he was determined to leave more than one mark on your body that night was enough to make your heart pound in every inch of your body and your panties start to get wet.

The heat and the need to have him had been there since the restaurant, but now a pool formed in the thin fabric.

“You’re mine, angel. Fucking mine.” he spoke close to your ear before biting your lobe and you just sighed, eyes closed and completely surrendered to him.

"Only yours."

Another kiss ensued as he walked with you across the room, taking your hands to his hair where you squeezed the dark strands as he bit your bottom lip, soon you were on the couch with him on top of you. You felt his erection and your body responded, wrapping your legs around his waist as your wetness welcomed his hard cock. Feeling your heat there made him growl and scramble out of your dress underneath, tearing the thin straps.

“So beautiful.” he whispered admiring your bust, taking his fingers to caress the skin firmly and you just moaned at the feel of his fingers on your hard nipples. And you gasped for air as he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it so hotly your legs were weak. You cried out for his name, it was the only thing that came into your head as you felt like you were going to combust, your body too hot as his saliva ran down your skin. He paid due attention to the other nipple as his fingers teased the other one, making you squirm beneath him. All you wanted was to feel him inside you, the muffled dreams of his moans were carrying vibrations that went straight to your panties, directly into your soaked pussy. He bit into your belly, making you open your eyes to stare at him and have the most pleasurable sight of him settling your legs between his shoulders to get ready to eat you. “Babe, please.” you pleaded, seeing him smirk.

He took a finger to your pussy, an almost imperceptible caress that didn't match the fire you felt, making you moan a little louder. Your panties were so wet that you would have been embarrassed if not for your husband's words. "I'll give you what you want, you know why?" he asked and you shook your head, trying to sway for him to come closer but his hands holding your hips on the couch prevented it. "Because you're a good girl. So good you deserve to have this pretty pussy eaten by me." You squirmed, his dirty words were making you even wetter and it bothered you not to have his tongue or fingers there. “Please.” “What do you want, hm?” he pushed your panties to the side and your pussy fluttered from the inside. “Tell me and I will give you, angel.” “Your tong-” your words caught in your throat before you could even finish because that's exactly what he gave you. He slowly licked your soaking pussy, making you whine louder, his skillful tongue explored from bottom to top, in a sensual and torturous rhythm, he was hungry for you but he didn't stop eating your pussy in the way he knew drove you crazy. He thrust deep into your velvet flesh and then back up to your clit, he didn't want to waste a drop, an inch of your pussy. He wanted to remind you that he was yours and you were his, to make you forget any trace of Johnny's eyes on you though none of that was remembered now. The only thing you remembered was moaning his name over and over again like a mantra. Your body temperature rose even more, that famous knot in your lower abdomen was there and you were closer to coming, noticing that Doyoung stuck two fingers in your pussy while his tongue took care of your swollen clit. “Oh my god.” “Come for me, baby girl.” groaning loudly, all you could do was obey and you came hard. He didn't waste your cum, swallowing everything while you tried to somehow regain lost air. He lifted his torso, letting your limp legs fall to the couch as he took off your panties completely. You breathed heavily and he leaned in to kiss you again, this time a little slower to share your own taste. You responded, taking your hands to the shirt he was wearing and started to pull it up, he laughed low against your lips and helped you take off the useless piece. It was your turn to kiss his neck, licking every bit of skin and his Adam's apple, which grew more prominent as he tipped his head back as your hands deftly went to the zipper of his pants. You both moaned as you also reached for his hard member, which practically begged to be released from those tight pants. And that's exactly what you did, with his help, the pants ended up somewhere in the room while you groped his hard member over his underwear. Moaning very close to your ear, Doyoung held tight to your waist and sat on the sofa, bringing you to sit on his lap, you helped him take off his underwear and was going down to return the pleasure when he stopped you.

"No." he spoke in a low voice and you looked at him confused. "Today is all about you, baby girl."

"But I want to return the favor." you pouted and he fit you better in his lap, smiling sideways.

"You can do that later." he winked and you reluctantly agreed. "Now I want you to ride me."

You bit your bottom lip, hearing it so down and dirty was just as pleasurable, not as much as actually riding him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he gripped his hard member to fit your pussy. "Keep being that good girl." that's what he said before you went down so he could enter you at once. Closing your eyes at the feel of him erect and pulsing inside you, you began to ride at a slow pace. He held your hips tightly, lost in how perfectly you fit together.

"Open your eyes, angel." he asked, then moaned, and you did so to find his eyes as lost in desire as his were. "Look, watch how you ride me, how your pussy was made for my cock, how your pussy swallows my dick perfectly. No one will ever fill you up like that.” And you could only nod as you moaned, up and down his cock. But he was impatient with your pace, so he grabbed your hips with both hands and made you ride even deeper, in and out faster of his cock. You then rested your forehead on his shoulder, the loud moans mixing with the wet sound of bodies moving together. Your pussy tightened every time his hard cock hit your g-spot, making you see stars even with your eyes closed. He went steady, deeper. He hadn't just marked your body on the outside but he was determined to mark the inside as well and it was all too pleasurable. Sweat trickled down your back, his short nails dug into your skin as he filled you in an intimate way and he would say the sweetest dirty words you had ever heard, he would praise you amidst the suffering moans of someone who was so close to coming but didn't want it to end yet, just like you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, babe.” you said in sobs as you rode him even faster, listening to the couch creak. “Right behind you, angel.” The ecstasy and anxiety of knowing he was about to come with you flooded through you and you lifted your head to rest your forehead against his and look him in the eyes.

“I want you to cum inside me, please.” you pleaded so softly he rolled his eyes peacer before putting his tongue into your mouth once more, your thighs trembled and he held you even tighter practically merging your bodies together.And then that whole wave of pleasure hit you again, moaning even louder but being muffled by Doyoung's mouth glued to yours he moaned together and came on you as you released your come. You still continued riding him at a slower pace to try to catch your breath while he hid his face in the back of your neck, without undoing the firm grip on your waist. “That's the sexiest sex we ever had.” he spoke, breathless against your skin and you chuckled softly. "Well, I guess we're not done yet, if I remember correctly I need to return you a favor."

[acnelli]

if you're comfortable, please can you suggest me romione and rarry smutty fics?

Hi anon,

sorry for the late reply. Here are my favorite smutty ones which are all available on either AO3 and/or FFN.

Romione

The Cure for Boredom by @remedialpotions

A Counterpoint to Working Launches by @constitutionalweasleymonarchy

Learning Curve by @aibidil

Same Time, Same Place by @cheesyficwriter

The Other Side of Life by kjc1123

A Day in the Life by KatieBell70

Reaffirmation by mugglemama

Rarry:

Treacle Treat by @orange-peony

Harry buys a house, but gets a home by Dane Wilshire

Avoiding the Subject by Dane Wilshire

What's eating Harry Potter by @reallycorking-art (comic)

Four Gallons of Oblivious by @cassiaratheslytherpuff

Ain't Got Time to Take a Fast Train by shes_gone (and every other Rarry story of hers)

@accio-broom wrote Four which has both Romione and Rarry.

Also check out the 'together or not at all' series by @ballerinaroy if you want to read some prime Golden Triad content.

Check out the author's other stories as well! And don't forget to leave the authors some love for their great work 💛

And for smutty Rarry stories, check out my AO3 bookmarks. I might or might not have been on a smut reading spree in the last months. Some stories in my bookmarks are not tagged with Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, so don't filter for the relationship tag.

Tagging @folk-melody because they always have the best recs for everything Romione, and @playitaagain, @acciorxses and @livingincolorsagain for more Rarry recs! 💛

[folk-melody]

Thanks for tagging me, Nelli! Love the fics you recced!

I tried to include everything in this small list - First Time, AU, Old!Romione etc. Please check the tags before reading!

I Must Not Tell Lies by @trademarkblue

Change Your Mind by @accio-broom

Hours and Hours series by HootieMcBoobs

Now or Never by @be11atrixthestrange

Unzipped by @romioneb

Delicate by @remedialpotions

Four Days of Fantasies by rosepddle

Ice & Fire by @mina-roman

Holding On To Me So Tightly by gracerene

Don't forget to leave kudos & comments if you enjoyed them!

[andthepotters-blog]

Ron Weasley offered the stranger sitting next to him on the train half his sandwich, even though it was all he had.

Ron Weasley sacrificed himself for the good of Harry and Hermione at age eleven, because even then he thought they were more important than he was, and the ones worth saving.

Ron Weasley was Harry Potter’s first friend, and the first thing Harry ever had resembling a family. 

Ron Weasley lived in a cramped house, and wore hand me down robes, and he didn’t even think twice about offering his room and food and family to Harry every break, he offered him every thing he could and gave him everything he had.

Ron Weasley took care of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger when they were too busy taking care of the rest of the world to worry about themselves. 

Ron Weasley stood on broken bones when he was thirteen years old, to tell a man infamous for murder that if he planned on killing his best mate, he would have to go through him first.

Ron Weasley was the person Harry would miss most in the world.

Ron Weasley was a pureblood wizard who, from a very young age, devoted his life to abolishing blood status, even if he didn’t quite understand his own privilege. 

Ron Weasley’s greatest fears and insecurities were tied up in his two best friends seeing him the way he saw himself. They were tied up in the idea, imbedded deeply in Ron Weasley, that he was somehow inferior.  

Ron Weasley gave Dobby his own clothes and socks to be buried in, because he understood how important it would have been to him.

Ron Weasley thought about saving the house elves when everyone else forgot. 

If you don’t love Ron Weasley, The Boy Who Cared, I don’t know what books you read but they weren’t the same ones I did.

[hogwartsvault]

Ron in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[accioromione]

Ron showing Hermione who she belongs to, based on your jealous fic

-Sequel to https://accioromione.tumblr.com/post/628917028483481601/i-loved-the-fic-where-hermione-was-jealous-can- SMUT

“Ready then,” Ron asked Hermione as she got her coat. 

“Yes love,” said Hermione. 

“Save it for Albert,” Ron scoffed, “is he still here?” 

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and the two of them left her office. To Ron’s pleasure and to Hermione’s horror Albert was in the hallway. 

Ron took Hermione a kissed her deeply, Hermione’s eyes widened but she quickly felt herself getting lost in the kiss. Albert looked at them and then walked away, Ron, who was peering at him from kissing Hermione, pulled away when he left. Hermione’s eyes were still closed in adoration. When she opened them she came back to reality. 

“Did you just... mark your territory?” Hermione said annoyed. 

Ron shrugged his shoulders, “maybe.” 

Hermione scoffed. 

“You started this... don’t think I don’t know how sick your twisted fantasies are.” Ron said and Hermione blushed. 

“T-they’re not fantasies,” said Hermione and Ron raised his eyebrows. 

“You’re a right little minx,” said Ron smiling and Hermione blushed. “But seriously,” Ron added, “even though you do this for your own sick fantasies, blokes like Albert will take that as an invitation.... and I don’t trust him.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “so you’re just going to do that every time you see him?” 

“Yes.” said Ron simply. 

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes, “well let’s go then.” 

The two of them apparated home and Ron was instantly on her. 

Hermione’s eyes widened in shock. 

“Ron- what- oh” Hermione breathed. 

“I told you I’m reminding you of why you’re with me-” growled Ron kissing her neck. 

“Oh my .. ohhhh.... b-but I haven’t even... taken off..... m-my coat.” Hermione struggled to say, closing her eyes in pleasure. 

Ron threw her coat off of her and lifted her up guiding her to their room, Hermione closed her eyes and bit her lip. She could feel her center getting tingly and wet at Ron’s touch. She was about to experience a dominant Ron and she absolutely loved when Ron was dominant. He tended to get like this when he got jealous, and turned Hermione on every time. 

Ron put his fingers over her centre, “does Albert make you this wet?” Ron growled and Hermione sighed in pleasure. 

“N-no,” she moaned. 

Ron put her on the bed and put her arms over her head. 

“Who do you belong to Hermione?” Ron growled. 

Hermione moaned. 

“Who do you belong to,” he said again. 

“Y-you Ron,” Hermione whimpered. 

Ron growled and started stripping off her clothes. Hermione took the opportunity to also take off his shirt but he stopped her and went back to holding her hands over her head. 

“No,” he growled. 

Hermione felt herself getting even more wet at this, she was painfully turned on by this Ron. 

Holding her hands over her head he unzipped his trousers and put them down. He had also managed to get Hermione out of all her clothes. Once the clothes were off Ron used his now free hand to choke Hermione’s neck. Hermione moaned. 

“Who is the only person that can see you like this?” Ron said possessively. 

“Y-You,” she whimpered. 

“Do you want Albert to do this to you? Huh?” Ron growled. 

“N-no” Hermione breathed, “j-just you, o-only you,” 

Ron pressed his lips agains her possessively, Hermione felt herself get lost in his yet again. He had so much power over her in this moment. She truly felt out of control, and the thought of it had her painfully turned on. 

“R-Ron,” she moaned. 

Ron bit her lip, she whimpered. 

“P-please,” she moaned, she was getting so wet that she was starting to crave him inside of her. 

“Please what Hermione,” Ron growled, pressing his hard on against her thigh, Hermione whimpered. 

“P-Please......h-have your way....w-with me....I-I’m yours.” Hermione moaned in anticipation, desperately trying to move to come into contact with Ron. 

“Bloody right you’re mine,” Ron growled and he entered her, making her scream in pleasure, him moaning at the contact. 

“Roooooooon!” she moaned at the contact, “Ronnn!!!!!” 

“Who’s pussy is this?” Ron grunted thrusting in and out of her. 

Hermione moaned, “y-yours all yours!” 

Ron was thrusting in and out of her, his right hand wrapped around her neck. 

“You think anyone else can fuck you like this Hermione?” Ron grunted. 

“N-no!” Hermione whimpered. 

“Who can fuck you like this?” Ron growled. 

“Y-You, o-only you- Ron oh my GOD!” Hermione moaned. 

“You love this cock huh? You crave it huh?” Ron said thrusting faster. 

Hermione was whimpered, “R-Ron I-I’m about to...” 

“You gonna cum for me Hermione?” Ron growled, “Because you can’t handle it? Who’s pussy is this... Tell me again.”

“Y-Yours!!!!! Ohhh Ron! I’m cuming!! Holy RON!!! Mmmmmm oh my God!” Hermione was screaming and her whole body shaking. Ron was grunting as he thrust in and out of her. 

“That’s right cum for me Hermione...show me who you belong to.” Ron moaned. 

“Y-Yoooooouuu!!!” Hermione was moaning and still shaking, “Ohhh my GOD!”

“Fuckkkkkk” Ron said and Hermione felt him spill inside of her, “fuck yes... you love it ... you love my cock... your pussy was made for my cock... yes Hermione fuck.....” Hermione’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she could only whimper and shake. 

“Fuck.” Ron said, slowing down his motion, Hermione collapsed on the bed, breathing heavy. Ron laid down beside her. 

“T-that’s what you wanted?” Ron breathed. 

Hermione bit her lip, her eyes were closed and she tried to catch her breath. 

Ron grinned and winked at her. 

“We’re not done,” he reminded her, breaching heavily himself, Hermione looked at him in anticipation and he looked back grinning. 

“You really are sick you know,” Ron told her. 

“Y-you like it too...” Hermione breathed, “I know you do.” 

“We’re both sick,” Ron told her happily and kissed her on the forehead. “Give me a moment and we can be sick again,” 

Hermione smiled at him slyly, her eyes sparking, Ron held her and she nuzzled her head into his chest, also trying to regain some energy for the rest of the night. 

All other things aside, she was very grateful that she had met Albert indeed. 

[accioromione]

I loved the fic where Hermione was jealous, can you plz do something similar with Ron? There's my idea. Ron finds out that a colleague of Hermione is flirting with her(maybe Harry told him😉) and like that's not bad enough the guy is handsome, wealthy, top of his class(head boy) at hogwarts and now has a very successful career in the ministry. Rons insecurities start coming back and he is afraid he is going to lose her😱.... do you best! 👍

“Harry I’ve told you countless times that-” Hermione began in the ministry elevator as the doors closed , but she was interrupted by the elevators opening once again due to somebody stopping the closing doors with their briefcase. 

“Sorry,” said a tall handsome man walking in, “didn’t want to wait for the next.... oh wow it’s Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, what are the odds,” he said. “Albert Wildsmith,” The man added, holding out to shake Harry’s hand and then Hermione. 

“Wildsmith?” Hermione asked, as she shook his hand. “As in Ignatia Wildsmith? She invented Floo Powder.” 

The handsome man chuckled, “it is true what they say about you then” Hermione blushed, “the one and only, I don’t take credit for her work though- the gold she left behind is more than enough.”

“Well nice to meet you,” said Harry, looking at him suspiciously. 

“What floor?” Hermione asked, going to reach to press a button. 

“Six,” said the man, 

“oh that’s my floor too, are you new then?” said Hermione. 

“Oh yeah, well here, after graduating I got a placement in France because I can speak it fluently, but I got offered the assistant head position, and it’s quite nice to be back in England. I missed it.” said Albert. 

“So you went to Hogwarts then?” asked Harry. 

“Yeah, I graduated in 1993.” 

“Yeah that would have been our third year-” said Hermione thoughtfully. 

“What house were you in?” Harry interjected. 

“Ravenclaw” said Albert, 

“Oh, you were head boy weren’t you? I remember an Albert who was a Ravenclaw head-boy!” Hermione said excitedly, Albert smiled. 

“That was me,” said Albert smiling, “impressive how you can remember, looks and brains you’ve got” Hermione blushed. 

“So you’ve been in France since?” Harry asked. 

Albert nodded sadly, “yes... I wish I could have been there...for you know.. the war.” 

“Well France didn’t ban you from coming back did it?” Harry asked. 

“Harry!” Hermione said. 

Albert smiled sadly, “I had ministry restrictions, France wasn’t prepared for me to leave.” 

“How lucky,” said Harry. “We know a girl from France, she came to England, married Hermione’s FIANCEE’S brother, she helped out even being from France and all.” 

“Harry!” Hermione said again. 

Albert smiled at her, “it’s okay- I understand, I would be that way as well. Fiancee eh? Lucky bloke.” 

Hermione’s face flushed. 

“Yeah Ron Weasley, sure you’ve heard of him if you’ve heard of us,” said Harry annoyed. 

“Oh...I have heard of him... well... lucky guy anyways,” said Albert. 

“Floor six” a lady’s voice said coolly. 

“Well that’s us I guess,” said Albert, “it was nice meeting you Harry,” 

“Oh I’m coming, Hermione and I have to talk about....ministry matters.” said Harry, Hermione looked at him confused.

“What?” Hermione asked. 

“Yes Hermione I have to discuss something of great importance with you,” said Harry puffing out his chest. 

“O-okay?” Hermione said. 

The doors opened and the three of them walked out. 

“Well, nice meeting you Albert,” said Hermione walking to her office. “Let me know if you need anything,” 

“Will do,” Albert said smiling at her  “pleasure again Harry,” 

Harry followed Hermione to her office and turned at her at once. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, annoyed. 

“What?” asked Hermione confused. 

“He was flirting with you!” said Harry. 

“Oh Harry stop...no he wasn’t.” said Hermione absentmindedly. “That’s seriously what you wanted to talk to me about?” 

 “You’re not going to cheat on Ron are you?” Harry asked sternly. 

“Cheat on.... are you crazy Harry? I would never.” said Hermione. 

“Good,” said Harry crossing his arms, “because once he hears about-” 

“What? Oh don’t tell me you’re going to tell him!” Hermione said. 

“Well why not? Since you don’t think its a problem!” said Harry angrily. 

“I don’t,” said Hermione, “but you know how Ron get’s... he’ll be jealous for no reason, don’t tell him Harry. It will cause trouble for no reason.” 

“Fine,” said Harry walking off, “he seems like a pompous git anyways.” Hermione rolled his eyes and Harry walked away. 

“Harry I’m serious, don’t tell Ron!” Hermione called back as he walked away. 

“I won’t!” said Harry, leaving. 

xxxxxx

“What’s his name again?” Ron asked. 

“Albert,” said Harry. 

“Sounds like a git,” said Ron. 

“That’s what I said.” said Harry. 

“Bragging about being in France during a war, Fleur’s from France, she helped.” said Ron angrily. 

“That’s what I said!” said Harry. 

“Well I reckon I need to place a visit to Hermione’s office today,” said Ron sternly. 

“Er-” said Harry. 

“What?” asked Ron. 

“I kind of told Hermione I wouldn’t tell you, she didn’t think much of it,” said Harry. 

“Right,” said Ron getting to his feet, “well, I’ll just pay a visit, make sure the bloke see’s me, and if I happen to injure him accidentally well, so be it.” 

“How tall is he again?” Ron asked looking back before leaving the room. 

“Still shorter than you,” Harry responded. 

“Right.” said Ron, “Well thanks mate, can always count on you.” 

Ron left the Auror department and headed for floor six. 

“Oh hi Ron!” said the secretary, 

“Hi Janice,” said Ron, “Hermione’s in her office right?” he said loudly. 

“Um, yes?” Janice responded, confused at the loudness in his tone.

Ron leaned into whisper, “do you know an Albert?” he asked, Janice giggled, “yes” she whispered back. 

“Do you mind telling me where his office is?” he whispered again. 

“609,” Janice whispered, giggling. 

“Right, thanks loads.” Ron said, he figured he’d ‘accidentally’ knock on room 609. 

He knocked the door to room 609, no response, he sighed, just his luck. 

He figured he’d go see Hermione to remind her that she was in fact engaged to him. He knocked Hermione's office door and opened it, “Hermione love?” Ron said entering the room. His mouth gaped open as he saw her sitting down at her desk, laughing, with another handsome man seated right across from her. 

“Ron!” Hermione said nervously. 

The man turned to face Ron. Ron was boiling with anger. 

“A-Albert this is my fiancee, Ron Weasley,” said Hermione. 

“Pleasure,” said Albert getting to his feet and reaching to shake Rons’ hand. Ron did not shake Albert’s hand back. 

“R-Ron this is Albert Wildsmith,” Hermione said, “he’s new to the department, just transferred from France.” 

Ron looked at him, “You’re fluent then?” 

“What?” asked Albert. 

“Oh you sure know how to pick them Hermione, fluent in French..what else?” Hermione glared at him and Albert’s face flushed. 

“Oh-oh yes.” 

“Nice, real impressive” said Ron, “I’ve learned a few phrases myself,” 

“Oh really?” asked Albert intrigued, Ron nodded his head. 

“Yes..let’s see...I’m a a bit rusty....umm oh yes!” Ron said snapping his fingers, “tu misérable petite baise” 

Albert’s eyes widened, “I er...” 

“A veela taught me that one,” Ron said proudly. “Funnily enough Hermione doesn’t like it when I talk to French Veelas, looks like she has no problems talking to French ... how do you say .... wankers in French?” 

“Ron!” said Hermione. 

“I-I’ll just go,” said Albert. 

“Oh no stay Albert, Alberto, Big Al, Al the pal!” Ron said, helping him sit back down

Albert looked at him awkwardly. 

“I um...” Albert began, 

“Oh let it all out Albert, heard you had lots to say with my fiancé over here, why you were just laughing five minutes ago,” Ron said. 

“Ron seriously you’re over-” Hermione began and Ron lifted her hand to silence her. 

“Listen pal,” said Ron loudly, “you may think you’re some big shot because you lived in France and you’re handsome and your great ancestor invented Floo Powder, but let’s make three  things clear.” said Ron now holding up his three middle fingers. 

“One,” Ron said, “I hate baguettes,” putting down his pointer finger

“Two,” Ron continued, putting down his ring finger so that only his middle finger was stuck up. “The Floo Network is a right MESS, and most people apparate or use portkey’s now.” 

“And THREE” he said touching Albert’s nose with his middle finger, “I don’t know who you think I am, but I am not afraid to fight any French pansies and ruin their handsome faces, GOT IT?” Albert gulped and nodded. 

Hermione put her head in her hands, 

“Now you’re off with a warning but if I hear you come near my fiancee again we’re going to have some major issues. Got it Napoleon? AU REVIOUR.” Ron said and Albert got out of the seat and ran out of the office. 

“Ron,” Hermione said shaking her head, “he was signing documents,”  

Ron looked at Hermione angrily, “must have been some funny documents,” he said snatching the paper from her desk, “ah yes policy eighty five, HILARIOUS” 

Hermione shook her head, “Why are you like this?” she asked desperately. 

Ron looked at her in disbelief, “You’re flirting with some random bloke! You expect me to be over the moon about it? YOU SET BIRDS ON ME WHEN I TALKED TO ANOTHER WOMAN.” 

“That is not the same thing, I wasn’t flirting,” said Hermione. 

Ron rolled his eyes. 

“first of all, who trusts a brit who willingly moves to France?” Ron asked. 

“Ron this is not the hundred years war- I should have never told you about muggle history” Hermione said. 

Ron looked at her furiously. 

“Fine, I’m sorry,” said Hermione “but you really have nothing to be worried about.” 

Ron crossed her arms and Hermione approached him slowly. 

“seriously,” she breathed, “that-that doesn’t even cross my mind,” 

“well letting him flirt with you is just as bad,” said Ron, slowly melting at her touch. 

She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, “what do you expect me to do? Be mean to him? He works in my department.” 

“Yes,” said Ron. 

Hermione laughed, “ugh you’re so annoying... but endearing at the same time,” she said as she placed a kiss on his lips. 

“He’s handsome,” muttered Ron. 

“So are you,” said Hermione, Ron’s ears turned red. 

“He’s rich,” said Ron. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “yes because I definitely am looking to get more money,” Ron laughed despite his anger. Him and Hermione had gotten so many promotions that they were making well above average income alone let alone together. 

“So I have nothing to worry about?” said Ron. 

“No you jealous idiot,” said Hermione, Ron grinned. 

“I will punch him you know,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “I know,” she said, “but no punching is permitted, we all know how brave you are,” 

“He was scared wasn’t he?” Ron said, “ran out like a pansy,” 

Hermione crossed her arms. “I told Harry not to tell you because I knew you’d be like this,” 

“Well I for one am thankful someone has my back in this god forsaken place,” Ron said, Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“Why must you be so dramatic?” she asked “now he’s scarred and will be too scared to talk to me again,” 

“Good” said Ron. 

Hermione looked at him, “fine, I’ll be nicer... but if he flirts with you again, it’s my fist he’s getting in his face.” 

“Noted.” said Hermione 

“And tonight... I’m reminding you of why it’s me you’re with.” Ron said sternly, Hermione’s face turned pink. 

“Oh?” she asked. 

Ron nodded angrily, Hermione bit her lip. 

“S-so like...y-you’re going to be l-like that other time?” Hermione asked, her breath hitching. 

Ron nodded angrily, “yes like that time Harry told me when you talked to... wait a second,” Ron said with a look of realization hitting his face. 

“What?” Hermione asked innocently. 

“You sneaky witch!” Ron said, “you did it in front of Harry on purpose because you knew he’d tell me because you... you... wanted me to... like last time!” 

Hermione’s face flushed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said. 

Ron grinned, “you’re sick.”  

“A-and what are you going to do about that?” she breathed. 

“Oh you’ll find out tonight... don’t overwork yourself... you’re going to need some energy when you get home.” Ron said, Hermione bit her lip. Ron shook his head angrily. 

“Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself exiting the office, Hermione smiled as he walked away, excited for what tonight had in store for her. 

[neowinestainedress]

Treacherous ; kim doyoung

title: treacherous | part of the “loving him was red” series 

pairing: kim doyoung x oc | side members: oc’s best friend jaehyun ; mentioned johnny, mark, jungwoo 

genre: fbw to lovers!au, getting together!au, smut, fluff, 

warnings: smut, fingering, minor nipple play, squirting, riding, soft sex, unprotected sex (this is fiction, wrap it up irl), public sex (it’s a bathroom of a club), jealous sex (kind of), rough sex, dirty talk (praise and a little little bit of humiliation)

summary: Loving Doyoung is treacherous, reckless, but she can’t help being pulled to him. She knows she should let him go, but she can’t stop thinking about him, his name haunting her every night. So she risks it all because it’s known that nothing safe is worth the drive.

words: 8.847

taglist: @meowniee @commentgirl @b1kon131 @blossom-rea​ | if you’d like to be added comment on the masterlist of the series 

a/n: So, here’s the first story for the series! I’m really excited to finally share this, I had fun writing this and I hope you’ll enjoy reading it. I appreciate feedback of any kind so if you want to, don’t be shy to let me know what you think about it. As always, english isn’t my first language so there might be some mistakes, I’m trying my best. Enjoy! 

Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch. Out of focus, eye to eye, ‘Til the gravity’s too much. And I’ll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands. And I’d be smart to walk away, but you’re quicksand.

Sunhee always thought there was something intoxicating about Doyoung. Something that pulled her to him silently, without him doing or saying a thing. There was this attraction, pushing her to him, naturally, almost as if they were said to be together. 

And now, that she stared at him, reading a book with his head low, and the warm light of the lamp hit his sharp features, she couldn’t help but wonder how she got there. 

When she first got to know him, it was never supposed to turn this domestic. She wasn’t supposed to feel this warmth raise in her chest every time she stared at him, or hear her heartbeat ring in her ears every time his name crossed her mind. 

It was supposed to be just sex, no strings attached, no love, nothing.

Sunhee had no idea when she started to crave him, not his body, not his touch, but him. Probably it was the fault of their nights spent up, talking about what he enjoyed the most. And she would just sit there, head on her knees, listening to him and his antics about the more and less. Right on that bed, while the city outside slept silently, and she was busy getting lost in his words about economy, and other things she couldn’t even get. 

Doyoung was incredibly smart and well-spoken, and she felt dragged to him with every single word. There was nothing sexy about the GDP of the country or the precarious conditions of some country she couldn’t even remember where it was placed on the map, but his voice somehow made everything interesting. 

“Are you okay?” Doyoung’s voice shook her out of her thoughts. He was still sitting on the armchair, the book was closed on his lap and his sharp brown eyes were staring at her. 

She nodded mindlessly and got up from the bed, fixing the crumpled sheets where her body applied pressure. 

“I was just… thinking,” she replied, putting her long brown hair in a loose ponytail, just to get them out of the way. 

“Thinking of?” Doyoung asked, voice low and head reclined against the back of the beige armchair. 

Keep reading

[neowinestainedress]

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

LONG FICS

Treacherous ; 8k — part of the “loving him was red” series — loving Doyoung is treacherous, reckless, but she can’t help being pulled to him. She knows she should let him go, but she can’t stop thinking about him, his name haunting her every night. So she risks it all because it’s known that nothing safe is worth the drive.

SERIES

₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆. fireplace ashes ₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.

DRABBLES

free use — requested | x reader [s]

kitchen sex — requested | x reader [s]

BLURBS / HARD HOURS

₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆. fireplace ashes ₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.

[ericssmile]

good girl || doyoung.k

pairing: doyoung x reader

genre: smut... just pure smut

warning(s): daddy kink; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it); mention of overstimulation; mention of blood

word count: 1.1k

a/n: happy birthday doyoung! (look at me getting something done in time)

The cool midnight breeze brushed through the open window; the stars shining bright in the sky and the moonlight glowing through the window, landing on the man above you; the light shining on his face, showing all his beautiful features.

The soft sound of Bruno Mars’ “Gorilla” playing in the background, although your ears weren’t focused on that. Instead they were focused on the low grunts and soft praises falling from the lips of your lover. His nails digging deep into your hips; his own thrusting deep and hard into you sending you into a world of oblivion; your heart racing as your own nails dig into his broad shoulders. His head was buried in your neck, his soft, plump lips trailing kisses along your skin.

The almost pornogrpahic sounds slipping from your lips fill his ears, making him smirk against your neck, his hips picking up a faster pace. He watches as your back arches, your head rolling back into the pillow as the his name rolls off of your tongue in a mantra; breathless, one of your hands moving into his hair, pulling slightly on the black strands and pulling his face to yours, wanting nothing more but to have his lips on yours.

And so he kisses you. The kiss filled with passion and lust, tongue meeting yours and his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. The sound of skin slapping skin filled your ears as he picked up the pace, a low guttural moan falling past his lips as he rolls his own head back, loving the feeling of you convulsing around him.

“Fuck, baby. You take me so well.” He moans, one hand moving to grip onto the headboard, the other still gripping your hip, his nails digging deep into your skin that if he were to move it away, little crescent moon indents would be found along your skin. “Take daddy so well, hmm?”

“Mmm, so full! Fuck, right there!” You gasp, your voice whiney and raspy. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible, the heels of your feet digging deep into the flesh of his ass. You hear him curse under his breath. He moves his head back into the crook of your neck, trying his hardest to contain his moans to keep his members from hearing him. But they probably already knew what was happening by the sound of the headboard constantly banging against the wall.

You could feel his warm breath along your sensitive skin, the sensation driving you mad like never before; his lips ghosted over the skin just below your ear. Your weak spot. Both of your hands moved to grasp onto his hips; broken moans and whimpers slipping past your lips. One hand moves up his back, nails scratching along his soft skin; the sensation drove the man wild, a deep guttural moan coming from deep within his chest, that the sound alone would’ve sent you to oblivion.

The harder and faster his hips moved, the more whinier and louder you became. You honestly did try to conceal your moans at the beginning. But there was always just something about Doyoung that drove you wild to the point you can’t contain yourself. Doyoung didn’t mind though. He loved to hear you; you screaming his name became music to his ears to the point it’s embedded into his brain, and just your soft, needy voice repeating his name always drove him crazy and would get an instant hard on.

One particular thrust however, sent you to heaven. Your head lolled back, eyes closed, nails digging deep into the man’s skin as you almost scream out his name, your toes curled and your whimpers never ending.

“Oh fuck! Right there!” Your voice came out broken, high pitched. “Mm god, please daddy!”

Doyoung growls under his breath, the feeling vibrating against your skin, sending another wave through you as you get closer and closer to your high. He moves his head back, his gaze burning deep into you. He smirks as he watches you. Leaning back slightly, Doyoung grasps onto your legs, his gentle and long delicate fingers wrap around both of your calves, pushing them forward into your chest, creating a new angle for him. Taking the initiative for yourself, you replace his hands with your own, holding your legs wide for him to completely wreck you. You feel his warm hands place themselves on your tummy to give himself some sort of leverage as his hips now pick up an inhuman pace. He was relentless. Skin hitting skin. The slight squelching sound fills your ears and at that point, you don’t know how much longer you’ll last.

Doyoung could feel you clench around him; he lets out a low, guttural moan. He let’s out a “fuck” from deep within his chest. “You gonna cum, baby girl? Hmm?” He watches as you nod your head, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Words baby. Use your words.”

“Fuck, yes! Yes I’m close. Daddy please! Please can I cum?” Your voice was whinier than ever, the tight feeling in your stomach on the verge of being let go. You feel him place his plump lips on yours, swallowing your moans and whines.

“Go on baby. Cum for me.” At his words, you immediately let go. Your back arching, vision turning white, your nails digging so deep into your skin you're sure you're bound to draw blood; his name falls from your lips like a mantra with a mixture of curses.

The sight in front of him sets a new fire alight in him, his hips moving faster as he chases his own high. Your soft whimpers fills his ears at the slight overstimulation. He feels the knot in the pit of his stomach, a mixture of groans and moans slipping past his lips. He places his forehead against yours. He feels the soft touch of your hand on the side of his face as his movements start getting slower and sloppy.

“You ready for me, baby girl?”

“Yes daddy. Fill me up.”

At your words, he lets himself go, decorating your walls in white, filling you up till every last drop was inside. You moan at the feeling, a hand moving to the back of his head, raking your fingers through his hair. You feel his hot breath against your nose as he pants to regain his breath.

He places a gentle kiss on your nose, watching as you scrunch your face up, the action causing Doyoung to chuckle at your cuteness.

“Always such a good girl for daddy.”

© ericssmile, 2022; please do not take or repost

tag list: @flowerboykun

[vad-hander]

CASTLE OF REBELLION

pairing: Doyoung x reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut, non-idol!AU, established relationship, rich!doyoung, series

warnings: cheating, degrading, twisted relationship

words: 6k

PART 1 | PART 2

“What’s in there for me?” the man in front of you seemed to not understand the offer. 

“You get a pretty thing on your arm for the evening.” you smiled confidently. He didn’t need to know you were burning with anxiety at the thought of suggesting yourself to him. 

“What money are we talking?” the man considered your offer before asking. 

“I- do you want me to pay you?” your eyes ran over the young man’s figure. He was probably around your age, most likely a year or two younger, his auburn hair definitely being a thorough job of a hairstylist. You thought of the options of his position at the company but nothing quite fitting to his looks was coming into your head. 

Back to his question though, did he catch it in the way you looked around that there was something you needed behind that closed door? Did he want to benefit from you?

“How much do you want me to pay you?” 

“I-, uh.” it hit you. You tried to not lose your composure in front of the young man who thought you were selling your body. “Depends on your behaviour throughout the evening. I’ll make sure the price is nothing you could not handle.” you winked seductively. 

“Okay?” the man looked at you still confused. 

Maybe it wasn’t the very high point of your life - catching the first attractive man that headed towards the doors of the hall the merger took place in. Most likely it was a very low point of your life - showing up at the LTY merger event uninvited just to take a glimpse of Doyoung. It’s been forever, since you were able to spend your time with him, see him, talk. 

It’s been a week, in fact, but it felt like forever. 

You were going insane in the shortest period of time and the last sanity cells left you as you made the decision to go here. Wearing the dress he gave you as well. “Shall we?” The man’s brows raised in question, inviting your hand to loop around his. Was it… that easy? Should you be concerned at how easily the man agreed?

“Sure.” you smiled at the man, hiding the tremble in your knees. 

The ball room was beautiful, all those people in beautiful dresses that screamed money and success. It seemed regular employees were not invited to the party, at least the largest part of the people filling the room seemed to have expensive tuxedos on.

“Would you like champagne?” 

“What’s your name, by the way?” you asked in return. 

“Na Jaemin.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Jaemin.” you smiled kindly. “I’m Y/n.” 

“Sweet name.” he smiled in return. “Would you like champagne, Y/n?” 

“Yes, please.” you stretched out a smile. 

-

“Who are you for the company, by the way?” you asked finally, the question lingering on your tongue for the past hour you’ve been mingling around. The man seemed to be known for the people, they greeted him happily, hugged, laughed and talked about you with him. It was overall a sweet experience, no shame or harassment that you were so afraid of. 

Sweet experience of your heart tingling whenever a man in black tuxedo somehow represented Doyoung from the back and turned out to be not him with his front to you. It felt like he was hiding from you, he was obviously obliged to be at the party so the fact you were not able to see him while not so subtly by now looking out for him was making you frustrated. 

“Marketing director for the new company.”

“Promoted?”

“Yes.” he shot a satisfied smile. 

“Congrats. You’re pretty high up.” you wondered if he knew Doyoung. He obviously, most likely, knew him. 

“I am, thank you.”

“So the new big bosses liked you?” 

“I guess they did. They’re actually up to say a word in a couple of minutes.”

“A word?”

“Yeah, like a we rock, let’s fucking do it type a thing.” you looked at the man hiding a giggle. You knew exactly what he meant by that, imitating all the big boss speeches you ever heard in your life. 

“Is there like a big scene I don’t see?” 

“I think over there.” he pointed with a hand behind your shoulders. “Where the mic is, seems like the place. Shall we come closer? As a higher up I gotta be in the first row, you know.” Jaemin rolled his eyes annoyed. 

“Are you not ashamed of being in the first row with a random girl?”

“Mmmh… no?” Jaemin took your hand in his, walking you up closer to the mic and you shivered terribly. From the realisation that seeing Doyoung was now inevitable. 

Quickly people stumbled over the lonely mic stands in the corner of this giant ball room. Before you could even process, people began to clap, you looked around and saw Doyoung walk accompanied by his father and a couple of other men you had never, obviously, seen before towards the mics. Your heart jumped into your throat even though Doyoung was just staring at the way his feet moved over the floor, there was no way he’d acknowledge you and there was no way for you to see his face too. 

The other side of the deal popped quite literally right in front of your eyes. His wife’s father and the wife herself. You felt hot and ashamed, you should’ve run away or what could’ve been a better option - never showed up in the first place. 

The woman wore a pretty dress that covered her feet, a little loose over the waist, prettily covering her chest. Did Doyoung like to pick dresses in general, for all his women? Regardless of their status in his life? Maybe he picked out clothes for his wife too? What if… what if he did? You had to fight with lamp in your throat. 

The woman walked straight to Doyoung, grabbed his fingers and kissed the corner of his mouth. He didn’t protest and he didn’t seem to not like it, of course, he could not act that way but he acted so natural… so fit in?

You grabbed onto the fingers of the man you stood next to, not getting a single question from him at the sudden touch. Jaemin just held your hand in return and you leaned in on him a little more. 

You were boiling hot and about to burst in tears, Doyoung could probably tell you were on the verge just by looking at you, and suddenly you didn’t want him to see you, acknowledge your presence and the rest of the things. Your mission of coming and making him regret his life decisions over the fact you were out of reach crumbled down because currently it seemed he was completely out of reach for you. You loved him so much that fake interaction for their parents made you hyperventilate almost. Made you want to snap her neck, and his too. 

“Those two are the kids of the CEO’s” Jaemin commented, leaning in to your ear. “What a coincidence they’re married, right?” the guy played with his eyebrows suggestively. You mastered a shocked face expression biting your tongue. If only he knew that the marriage was in fact arranged by Doyoung’s father who could only dream of buying off the company for the past decades. 

“They seem like a happy family to me.” 

“Yeah, sure.” he cackled in response. “No way a family like that could be a happy one.” 

“Why?” you looked at him fully emerged in what he had to say. The voices of the men in front of you began to fill in your background hearing. 

“I’m no visionary I just saw them be cold towards each other on different occasions. She’s putting up a happy family show for the parents, I swear to god.” 

“Funny you have an opinion on your boss.”

“Why is that?” he turned his face to look at you closer. 

“Shh.” your finger raised up to your mouth “we should keep quiet, not catching their attention. You’re a big boss, that’s an important moment.” you snickered, watching Jaemin turn his head towards the people doing what felt like a little presentation. 

Doyoung stood there next to his father not more than two meters from you. You wondered how on earth did he not hear your whisper, distinguish it was you? How on earth did he not  acknowledge your presence by this point? He must’ve somehow already noticed you were there in front of his eyes, but his hobby was playing dumb when it came handy to him and you finally gave in to the crawling thought he wasn’t the one for you. 

Doyoung’s head suddenly raised, you weren’t even listening to the words that left his father, you were not able to work out whatever he tried to get into his employees heads. Probably, something along the lines Jaemin said earlier. Doyoung’s eyes ran over the people standing in front of him, you held your breath, hiding half of your body behind Jaemins, doing your best to not attract his attention. Your eyes lowered to your feet as if you were fully submerged in counting the squares on the floor. Jaemin was taller, there still was a chance Doyoung would not work out it’s you just because he’s not expecting you here. Just because through the decade you’ve known him he tried to be not too attentive for his own good. 

They gave him the mic; the moment his voice filled in the room it suddenly became the only source of sound you could hear. Every next word became more clear than the other and it made you shiver. Doyoung was talking about the business, how his hoping they’ll be able to build a great company after merging the two pharmaceutical companies their family’s owned. How happy he is to be able to work with his family members, have his wife by his side-.

Your head rose up without a second thought, you had to see his face expression as he praised his beautiful wife. He shot her a smile, slowly turning it into a smirk as his eyes lowered in a weak attempt to seem shy. You could not not notice how both their fathers suddenly smirked to whatever thought they had in their mind. 

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, his free hand trying to make your fingers let go of his palm from the hold that almost broke his bones. 

“I think I got hot and dizzy from the champagne. I’ll go take a breath of fresh air.”

“I’ll bring you water when they’ll finish.”

“Sure.” you pursed your lips. You did really need a minute alone, while everyone were submerged in their bosses speech getting out onto the terrace was a great opportunity to recompose. 

You shivered even more as you got outside even though the weather was nice and the barely blowing wind was a reminder it still wasn’t too far into the autumn. 

It wasn’t about you wanting to cry, it was about a realisation inside of you that you were in no place to make Doyoung feel weak, he was the one to make you feel weak. You shouldn’t have come. You should’ve held back longer from him. What if he was going through a decision making process and now if he’d see you he’d just go back to whatever was on his mind before.

You should leave and that’s the best move you could possibly make now that you realised you acted like a fool. You leaned over the metal fence of the terrace, farthest corner to have your privacy, even though the terrace was private enough by being empty. Jaemin walked in with two bottles in his hand, not needing a single sign from you to work out where you were standing. 

“Hiding?”

“Yeah.” you nodded unsure of what else to say. 

“I brought two bottles because I didn’t know if you’d want still or sparkling.” 

“Thank you.” 

“So which one do you want?” 

“Ugh, hm, I actually feel much better by now. I’ll take still, still… thank you.” 

“If you want none I’ll just take them back.”

“Okay? Yes, please, thank you.”

“Wait for me here. I have a thing to ask.”

“What thing?” Jaemin started to walk away, turning his back at you. 

“Payment.” you gulped. Payment, right, you weren’t hanging out with a friend or a boyfriend, you did stupidly act like someone who’d sell their presence and body for money. You turned around to look at the moon and the black sky. Stars weren’t seen in the big city and it made you subconsciously go to the summer house you spent so much time at. How the winter veranda, however absurd that sounds for a summer house, had the glass ceiling, through which you would star gaze with Doyoung glued to your body on the floor. His warm fingers run over your bare skin, while your eyes inspected the sky thoroughly, as if you had any knowledge on real astrology. It almost felt like you were lucid dreaming when you felt arms wrap over your body, pulling your back against the man’s chest. 

You didn’t have a one second panic before you realised who it was, you didn’t need that much time as a second to work out who’s body you were pulled against of. You were already melting at the sudden affection but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to know you were bursting and burning inside because he did notice you were there, he did come to find YOU, when his wife was somewhere literally around the corner. But still, you needed to keep your guard up. 

“Jaemin?” you asked high pitched, grabbing the fingers over your waist into your hands. You wanted to lean back in, feel his lips on your neck, while you were holding his hands, listen him say how tired he is of the work and life and everything that’s surrounding him. “You’re not Jaemin.” you sounded truly confused, at least you hoped so, running your fingers over the man’s boney fingers. “Who are you?” your brows furrowed as you turned around to face the man and his smug face expression. “Doyoung?” your hands pushed him at least a step away. 

“Jaemin?” he asked in return. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“What are YOU doing here? At the party as far as I remember I didn’t send out an invitation to you.” 

“My boyfriend did.”

“Who?” he cackled. 

“Boyfriend.” 

“Baby are you drunk? I did not give anything to you.” 

“Baby are you drunk?” you mocked his tone. “I have an actual boyfriend, the world does not revolve around you, sadly.” 

“Yeah? Who’s your actual boyfriend? A week ago you were moaning my name in my fucking car somewhere on the side of the road. Remember?” he hissed, stepping in closer. 

“I played along for you. I had him on the side for a while and now that we’re taking a break I’m more with him. I didn’t know he works for you, that’s such a stupid fucking coincidence. We’ll leave.” you tried to walk past him, Doyoung blocking every possible way for you to leave. 

“Wait here.”

“I won’t.” you mumbled, standing still while Doyoung walked back to the door, turning the locker into a horizontal position, meaning he locked the two of you outside. “What are you doing!” you cried out, staying next to him was sickening. Staying next to him meant you’ll want to touch him, kiss him, hear him whisper your name. 

Doyoung stopped you midway, grabbing your face in his hands, simply making you walk backwards as his lips trailed yours with nothing but hungriness. 

“Stop it.” you held onto his shoulders not understanding yourself if you were holding him in place or tried to push away. He stopped moving when it was obvious your back hit the fence, you two getting back to that farthest deepest corner. 

“Whatever.” Doyoung clicked his tongue nonchalantly. “While you were more with your new boyfriend, I missed you like crazy.” Doyoung’s fingers ran lines down your cheeks. “Can I have a hug?” His eyes roamed over yours. 

“I’m here with my boyfriend, you do not care at all?” 

“Baby.” his fingers moved down onto your neck, drawing lines and making you even more dizzy than you already were just from his presence. “With the way you’re looking at me wearing the dress I got you… i just know you still feel things for me. I know you’re playing. You’re witty and cunning but definitely not something you’re trying to play.” Doyoung’s hands just pushed you onto him more, making your face hide in his shirt, covering you from the world completely. Your hands weakly held onto his waist while Doyoung’s hand practically squeezed life out of you. 

“I’m so glad you came here, I really-really needed you here.” you forced him to move back.

“If you did, why didn’t you invite me?” you pressed palms into his shoulders, trying to push the man away. 

“I wouldn’t be allowed to-.” it seemed like he didn’t finish his sentence, but you let him be. Anyway, why would you even come here with someone else when we’re in a relationship?”

“In a relationship? I wonder what would you introduce me like to people inside of that building? Your girlfriend? The love of your life? A mistress maybe, huh? You really do wish you had the balls to say anything at all.” you chuckled unamused, you didn’t know what you expected for an answer. “You’re going to say I’m your college friend. Your father will anyway have a stroke the moment he sees me, I can feel it.”

“Should I care about that? I’m having a stroke right now because I haven’t seen you for a week. That’s what really matters to me.”

“Can you open the door? Jaemin’s definitely looking for me by now.” 

“Who’s Jaemin anyway? Not the marketing dir-“ You nodded watching his face expression drop a little. “You didn’t do anything with him?”

“Why? Hurts your pride I can have someone else too?”

“No, you can have whoever, but it’ll be different. I don’t fuck with my wife and I don’t like her, I don’t love her. I’m with her because that’s what makes this merger possible, if I’m not doing what I’m asked to then everyone’s fucked, but I love my job, I don’t want everyone to be fucked.”

“Yes, I know you prefer to fuck me over”

“No, I don’t. It just… happens to be easier in the circumstances?. I don’t like it one bit but I’ve said sorry a million times and you know I mean it.” 

“Sure.”

“Baby.” he got closer once again. “Can we leave?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I’m not going to your stupid summer house, we’re taking a break.” 

“We’re not going to the summer house, I have a surprise for you.”

“Again?”

“I swear to god, you’ll like it. I wanted to arrange everything in time for our anniversary this year but then I realised I should be quicker to even have you by my side… by the time our anniversary comes.” Doyoung’s eyes searched for an answer, you didn’t have words to say. You just blinked silently at each other. 

“I… I want to see your wife. Face to face.” Doyoung wrinkled his forehead confused. “Then we can go wherever you want us to.” 

“Why?”

“Actually, I’d love to see your father too.” you ignored his question completely. 

“But why?”

“I’ve missed him, what if he missed me too?” 

“He-. I don’t think he did, we both know that.” 

“Then…” You moved your face closer to his. “Doyoung-ah.” you finally wrapped your hands over his shoulder, feeling his hands on your waist immediately. “I love you so much, I’ve missed you a lot, but I didn’t come here with you nor did I come here for you. Please go back to your wife.” you pecked his lips because the wish was burning in your chest. 

“Fine. Fine.” he hissed. “You,” he pointed a finger towards you, his scolding face made it hard for you to keep a straight one. “You’ve been acting like a whole different person lately and it’s been hard for me, you know that?“

“Mmh“ you moved your face to be more in front of Doyoung “Very naughty of me, right?“ you smirked slightly.

“Right.“ He sighed, pecking your lips, taking both of your hands on his shoulders in his, making a step back to take a full look of your presence. “As beautiful as you could ever be.“ Doyoungs eyes glistened making your heart swell. Your heart get more at bay, he did love you, his eyes were enough of a proof, you gulped.

“So, are you leaving?“

“No, we’re leaving together after seeing my father.“ You smiled, trying hard to hold it back but failing. 

“Since you’re not yourself lately, I just have to warn you.“ Doyoung stopped on his tracks as the two of you walked back to the ball room. 

“Mmh?“ 

“Don’t act provocative.“

“Depends on what you consider provocative.“ You turned your head to the side. 

“You know exactly what I mean.“

“I wouldn’t do anything that could possibly hurt your job. I love you and that means I love everything you love.“ 

“Honey.” he let out a hitched breath, staring into your eyes. “Will you let go of my hand?“ Doyoung stared down at your tight grip over his fingers. 

“What if I really don’t want to?” You let his hand drop immediately after, hiding both yours behind your back.

Doyoung reached out his hand to the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. “Have you decided what to tell them?“

“About what?“

“Me, then maybe about the fact that we’re leaving, together, now? Didn’t you say you have a surprise.“

“Yeah, yeah. I do, I don’t know. I doubt they’ll ask.“ his eyes were busy running around the room, making his brain hardly recall what you were asking a second ago. “Oh, here.“ Doyoung gripped onto your waist protectively, pulling you more into his side, before letting go of you completely, calling out his father.

“Dad, do you remember my college friend Y/n?“ 

“Who?“ Doyoung moved to the side more so you’d be visible for everyone standing in front of you. His father, his wife’s father and her. Other people were chatting to them but you hardly could recall if they were men or women, if someone asked. You couldn’t care less about those random people when pure astonishment ran over Mr. Kim as he finally recalled your name and face. It actually surprised you it took him a while, you were sure it wasn’t like he didn’t know his son was spending most, if not all, of his time next to you. “Oh, you mean Y/n. It’s been a very long while.“ He made sure to underline with the tone of his voice that you popped out of nowhere for him. It only made you sure he was pretending. “What brought you here?“ 

“I just wanted to congratulate you on the successful merging of your companies. It’s a pleasure knowing your family and seeing your business grow.“

“Thank you.“ He smiled “Doyoung, you never mentioned before you keep contact with your college friends.“ 

“He doesn’t.“ You waved Doyoung off “I came here with my boyfriend, never even realised what the event was until I ran into your son.“ 

“Good for you.“ he said randomly, turning his head away. You swallowed not being even merely surprised by the lack of interest and coldness. Doyoungs hand slightly touched your back to signal you two should leave. If only you would let him get out of that ocean dry. 

“Is that your wife? I heard you’re married now, right?“ You turned your attention to Doyoung, seeing his body stiffen at the question. You tried to be loud, to attract attention of the people next to you, that way Doyoung wouldn’t be able to just shut you up. You couldn’t just walk away. The woman stared you down intently while you were mindlessly chatting with Doyoung’s father. You could feel her stare at you even without looking in her direction and the attention she very obviously wanted to attract was only fair to give. Doyoung looked at you slightly annoyed, the question definitely went under provocative type of actions in his book. 

You almost chuckled aloud, at how absurd did it that sound, that you’ve never spoken to her before, that you haven’t looked her in the eyes once throughout the years. Sometimes you wondered if she even cared where Doyoung was spending his time, if they talked things through with him, if she had someone she actually loved too, did she know you were the one he loved?

“That is her.“ Doyoung smiled, your eyes catching both of their fathers attention attracted back on you. “Honey?“ Doyoung left you by yourself, making you feel vividly how your skin turned red in rage. “Let me introduce you to my college friend.“ Just a mere moment ago you were the one called out by the pet name. 

“Nice to meet you.“ You pursed your lips in the slightest bow. 

“My pleasure meeting my husbands friend.“ She smiled sweetly, snaking a hand around his. “Were you two good friends or just school mates? I don’t think Doyoung’s ever mentioned anyone from school.“ 

“That is surprising, Doyoung have many friends from college.” you thinned out your lips. “Answering your question though, yes, we were good friends.“ Your eyes really could not move anywhere from her grip on Doyoungs sleeve. “I was his first love, as silly as it sounds.“ You cackled and finally raised your eyes. “But it’s all in the past, right, Doyoung-ie?“ 

“Of course.“ She replied instead of Doyoung. Doyoung’s face seemed a little paler than before, you wondered if cold sweats ran down his spine by now. 

The woman blinked couple more times lazily in your direction, focusing her eyes on Doyoung. 

“Great pleasure spending time with you but I’m afraid I have to leave.“ You lowered your head to gesture you were really sorry. “If you don’t mind, of course.“ 

“Of course, I’m in no power to hold you back.“ she took a step back and lost any interest in you, turning away. The territory was marked, what was the point of keeping up with you, right?

“Do you remember where the exit is?“ Doyoung asked, stepping in closer to you. You wanted to ask him about her. Did she love him?

“This champagne got me real dizzy, I wouldn’t mind your help.“ You sighed dramatically, making your chest go up and down in your dress. Doyoung placed his hand back on the small of your back as soon as you took not more than four steps away from his family. 

“Very, very provocative of you.“ he commented as soon as the two of you got into the elevator.

“What is?“ You cornered the man in front of you. 

“Everything you did.“

“Should I make commentary on your wife? She’s so much prettier than on photos, you’re such a lucky man, Doyoung.“ Doyoungs hands on your waist pulled your lower body against his while your fingers over his cheeks made space between your faces. 

“Shut up.“ He mumbled, trying his best to get to your lips before the elevator doors open once again. “Let me kiss you.“

“No, I’ll feel bad kissing you after the encounter I had with your wife, she seems like a sweet soul.“

“When we’re getting married, I swear-.“ Your heart stopped beating, that was the very first time in your lifetime Doyoung mentioning getting married to you. He stopped mid sentence when the elevator door dinged at such an inconvenient time and you had to get out to the parking lot. 

“Wait what?“ You caught up onto him walking swiftly, not trying to hold back your smile. You practically hung onto his arm to make him go slower and talk. “What does that mean, Kim Doyoung?“

“I’m not telling you everything I have on me. Show a little patience.“ His hand brushed your cheek, leaving a peck on your forehead. “One surprise at a time.“ 

“You’re fucking with me right now.“ You rolled your eyes at him, pulling on the door handle to sit down. 

“Let’s say I am for now.“ he chuckled. 

“Cruel.“ you turned your body more onto the window, listening to Doyoung starting the engine and driving away.

[anashins]

Hey babes may I request some rough make up smut with husband Doyoung after a heated argument? Perhaps a bit power play and breeding kink? 👀

-✨ℒ

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Genre: drama, fluff, smut

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You and your husband have always wanted children - until he starts doubting himself and you have to show him that he has no reason to at all.

A/N: I think this is my first time writing something with such a specific kink? I hope you like it, L 🥺💗

“We’ve been married for almost two years already, Doyoung. And never have I heard you speak about doubting getting a baby.”

“Aren’t I allowed to voice out my opinion?” he asked coldly, and at that moment, you completely lost it. 

With a bang, you slammed the entrance door to your apartment shut, totally furious. “When we started dating, we talked about this, because that’s what couples do before they vow to commit to each other for a lifetime.”

He hurried into the living room, throwing his jacket into the corner. “Opinions can change, okay?”

“But not in front of our friends during a casual gathering! You can’t just throw me under the bus and flat out tell them you’re unsure about starting a family when I was so excited about it before!” you called out in frustration, stopping him by holding him back by his arm. “No, don’t run away now, this is something serious we have to talk about!”

Giving it all to avoid eye contact with you, Doyoung reluctantly let himself get stopped by you, but you noticed how uncomfortable he had gotten after spinning around. There was much more to your husband’s sudden change of opinion, you just questioned yourself what exactly that could have caused. 

“I’m sorry that I made everyone uncomfortable and forced us to go.” His once maddened features had flattened out, his gaze soft and apologetic now. “I just felt under so much pressure when they asked when we plan on having a baby after seeing them with their children. In fact, lately, I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

You bit into your bottom lip, feeling your heartbeat close to your throat now. You were so, so afraid of the answer to this question that could decide over your entire future together. “And to what conclusion did you come?” You swallowed, hard, a cold shudder running down your spine at the same breath. “Don’t you want a family with me anymore?”

“You deserve the family you’ve always wished for.” You finally locked your eyes and saw all the pain and regret in Doyoung’s eyes. “But what if our children will get all of my bad traits? What if I don’t know how to be a good father? What if I will never be able to give them the life they deserve? What if I can never compare to our friends? That’s what I meant.”

You were totally taken aback. “This is what your doubts are about?”

Your husband let out a long sigh and wanted to turn away in annoyance over how you downplayed all his worries, that was how well you knew him. You cut off his way though, got on tip toes and cupped his face.

“Listen to me,” you spoke slowly with a smile on your face. “All your bad personality traits mean nothing as long as you’re a good person. And you are a good person, Doyoung, so every single one of your future children will be too. Nobody is born a parent, and of course we’ll make mistakes along the way, but as long as we’ll raise our children fair and good, and provide them with the best life and with all the unconditional love we can offer, we will be good parents.”

You wished you were able to capture what happened next. The change in Doyoung’s eyes from worry, to doubt, then thinking and finally insight. Then, nothing but love.

“I don’t deserve you,” he finally said, tilting his head and nudging against your warm palm.

“You do.” You let your hand trail down his arm, reaching for his fingers. “Now prove to me how much you deserve me.”

____

“Not like this,” you whispered into Doyoung’s ear and pushed him away from you. 

“I wasn’t done yet!”

“You’ve finished already, now it’s my turn.”

He landed on his back, totally naked and with wonder written all over his face, but when you pulled up your skirt and climbed onto his lap, that quickly turned into desire when it dawned on him what you were about to be doing. 

“You need a pause before round two?” you mocked jokingly. “A glass of water?”

Your husband let out a laugh and pressed his palms into your sides. “I only need to be inside of you.”

“Okay, one moment.”

You leaned to the side and reached for the nightstand to pull another condom out of the box which would later lie next to the used one from only moments before. 

But Doyoung stopped you. “How about we chance it?”

“What?” You looked at him, totally confused.

He smiled and brushed with his fingers over your cheek in an encouraging gesture. “We’ll take our chance.”

“For a baby?”

“For a baby.”

Overwhelming love flooded through your body, and you bent down to him, kissing him passionately while simultaneously raising your hips. Doyoung moaned into your mouth when he nearly effortlessly slipped into you, and you flattened your palms against his chest, starting to move up and down along his length.

Your husband's fingers entangled in your hair, and the way he subconsciously tugged at the strands encouraged you to move even faster. You threw your head back, red marks showing on his skin where the tips of your fingers had grazed.

“Yes, just like this,” Doyoung murmured. “Good idea of you to go on top.”

“Shut up and enjoy,” you chuckled, bending down and kissing him. 

You alternated your motions between lifting and slamming down, going forward and back, and sometimes even drawing circles which your husband liked especially much as he let out noises you had only heard on very few occasions before.

Your breasts were bouncing in front of him, and he loved kneading them, giving you double the stimulation. It was especially intense tonight as you had done it without protection only once or twice in your entire relationship, and those times had only been the products of accidents.

Now, you felt him deep inside you without any barrier, all on purpose, and it felt better than ever before. Whether it was real or only all in your imagination because you were finally trying for a baby, you didn’t know. But in the end, it also didn’t matter.

You came so fast like never before with the rhythmic movements of your hips that caused sweat to collect all in your cleavage and forehead, and lured a scream out of you of which you were sure could disrupt all your neighbors’ sleep.

You collapsed on Doyoung’s chest, your own heaving up and down before he clawed your bum so hard, it nearly made you scream out in pain. But you endured it all when you noticed how stiff his body had become, an indicator for the fact that he was close to cumming himself.

“A-are you s-sure?” he still managed to ask before it was too late, stroking the back of your head. “I can still pull… out.”

“I want it,” you breathed. “I want your baby, please.”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he shot his seed all inside of you with a few pumps, and you laid still in his arms, with a content smile on your face.

Shortly later, when you two were cuddling, you were talking about who the child would come after. 

“You know what?” Doyoung declared after a while, hugging you close to him so that you felt his heartbeat close to your ear. “The majority of the time, it doesn’t work out at the first go.”

“I know.”

“That means we have to try often.” You heard his voice changing to a sinister tone, and when the tips of his fingers slowly crawled across your skin, you knew what he was up to. “We shouldn’t lose any time.”

[yutaholic]

dangerous (M)

↣ PAIRING: Doyoung (NCT) + reader (female)

↣ GENRE: smut without plot; Doyoung is a professor and you are his student

↣ WARNINGS: mild language; explicit sexual content

↣ NOTES: this is a drabble, there will be no sequels; check the masterlist in my description for more of my writings; happy reading!

Keep reading

[allaboutthedongs]

Weak knees and apologies | 18+

☆ Pairing: Doyoung x Female reader

☆ Genre: Angst, smut and some fluff if you squint.

☆ Word count: 1 K

☆ Warnings: Dom!Doyoung, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, kinda rough sex, angry sex, bitting, cursing.

☆ A/n: Don't forget to like and reblog if you like it, so it could reach more horny people.

“Just get the fuck out of my room, Doyoung!” You screamed, your face flushing a deep shade of red. Your heart was pounding and you felt sick to your stomach.

“I’m not leaving until this is sorted, Y/N.” His voice was frustratingly calm, which only enhanced your anger towards him.

“You can’t just kiss someone and expect me to forgive you. We’ve been together for 2 years and now you go and do this, for god’s sake!”

You could feel your eyes welling up as the anger shook through you.

“I know, but I already told you how things happened. She kissed me against my will! My only mistake was being too drunk and not reacting in time to push her away from me. It's not what it looks like, I swear!” He enunciated the last sentence as if you hadn’t understood him. His eyes bore into yours begging for forgiveness.

“I know exactly what I saw and it doesn't look like she's forcing you to do anything, Doyoung!" You said, tossing him your cell phone. 

That afternoon, an unknown number had anonymously sent you a photograph of Doyoung kissing another girl at what seemed to be a party. 

Doyoung took your cell phone from the floor and looked ashamedly at the photograph. Although his conscience was clear, he recognized that you were right to be so upset. The photo really made him look bad in your eyes, but it was obvious to him that the whole thing was staged to separate the two of you. 

“I don’t know what else I can say to make you trust in me.” His voice was quiet now, as he furrowed his brow and dropped his eyes to the floor. A tense silence fell upon the room.

“Just… leave, I don't want to see you right now.” You pushed your hands firmly against his chest towards the door.

Suddenly you found yourself pressed up against him, his hands clawing madly up your back as his tongue forced its way into your mouth making you gasp. Your head was spinning and had no idea how you ended up there. You were still furious at him but couldn’t control yourself, you loved him so much and lust overflowed your body anytime you were with him. 

You tugged hastily at his t-shirt and hauled it over his head, removing yours immediately after. He walked your body back to the bed and pushed you roughly onto it, straddling his knees on either side of your waist. Crashing his lips on yours, you purposely bit down hard on his bottom lip, causing him to suck in breath sharply.

“I’m still fucking mad at you.” You hissed, wrapping your legs around his waist and drawing his body into yours. He flicked his hot tongue along your jaw before planting wet kisses down your neck.

“I know,” He murmured into your skin. “but you know I’m yours and only yours.”

He continued making his way down, tugging eagerly at the waistband of your leggings. You exhaled deeply as he pulled them past your feet along with your panties, the cool air abruptly meeting the aching area between your legs. You tangled your fingers through his black hair as he began flicking his tongue fiercely across your clit and dug your fingers into his scalp as he briskly introduced two fingers inside you, catching you off guard.

“Doyoung...” You moaned his name, wrapping your legs around his neck when you felt his fingers hitting the sweet spot inside of you. His other hand slid up your body as he began massaging your breasts. “Now you’d better hurry up and fuck me, or you can forget about being forgiven.” You teased him, your anger slowly beginning to subside as you succumbed to his skillful touch.

He kissed his way back up your body until his face leveled with yours.

“Well, if that’s an order…” He smirked, unzipping his trousers frantically and kicking his boxers to the floor, he drove himself into you without any warning. 

You couldn't help but scream, his urgent thrusts gave you no time to adjust yourself. You moaned uncontrollably as he fucked you relentlessly. Dragging your fingers down his back, you pulled his hot body into yours, bitting hard the soft skin of his shoulder.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned in pain as you continued nipping at his aching skin. You didn’t care, he deserved it. He deserved it for kissing someone else.

“Harder!” You begged, clinging desperately to his neck.

He obeyed your needs flinging your legs behind his shoulders, allowing him to thrust into you way deeper than before. You tightened your hands around his biceps as you felt yourself coming close to your high.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” He crushed your knees into your chest as he brought his sweaty body close to yours, whispering into your ear.

You moaned in response, digging your nails into his delicate skin as he pushed you over the edge. He continued fucking you as you rode your orgasm out. Powerful waves of intense pleasure surging through your body right to the tips of your curled toes. 

Letting your legs fall on either side of him, he quickly pulled out. A mixture of profanities escaped his lips as he spilled all his hot cum across your stomach and breasts. He rolled to your side and onto his back, your chests rising and falling rapidly.

You cleaned yourself up, put on your panties, and crawled back to bed. Doyoung held out his arm for you to rest your head on as you snuggled into him.

“I'm really sorry. I swear I didn't kiss her back.” He spoke, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger. His voice was soft and sincere, and you knew that he really was.

“I know.” You sighed, softly tracing circles on his bare torso with the tips of your fingers.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his warm chest. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, and you both lay there exhausted in a comfortable silence until falling asleep.

[caratzen]

Designer

<time apart allows for you and Doyoung to come to terms with your feelings. How’s this reunion gonna play out?>

contents: smut. daddy long dick Doyoung (real). mutual pining in secret, friends to lovers, repressed emotions that lead to sex, mutual teasing, dirty talk, it’s kinda sick how much they’re into eachother.

wc: 5k

It's fitting day. 

Weddings weren’t your favorite, but it gives you a reason to finally talk to your best friend who seemed like he’d been purposely dodging you. Worry nibbles at your conscience when you think about the lack of communication between you two, but you chalk it up to the responsibilities of adulthood.

You texted him months beforehand, not wanting to spring the project on him out of the blue. His responses are too concise, carrying a certain formality that shouldn’t exist between someone you’ve known since middle school. But you let it slide, he’s talented—in demand, busy. 

Yeah, that’s it. Right?

You shiver, attempting to dispel the thick cloud of anxiety that threatened to envelop your body. Muttered affirmations leave your mouth, There is no use in worrying about it anymore because, remember? It’s fitting day.

The concerns gnawing at your mind suddenly become sated the second you walk into his private shop. Light walls contrast with the mannequins that dawned dark, earthy colors. Each design is so clean and sleek, so modern and classy; so unmistakingly Doyoung.

Waves of ease crash into your nervous system, inundating you in a pool of serenity as you finally notice him standing near a large oak desk, littered with bolts of fabric and scattered patterns. 

He's a smidge taller than you remember, with thin steel rimmed glasses that sit pretty on his nose and a yellow vinyl tape measure wrapped around his neck.

You’re not aware of the smile that makes it to the corners of your eyes, “Goodmorning!”

He doesn't take his eyes off the small notepad in front of him, beckoning you with his voice as he rolls up the long sleeves of his fitted button up shirt, “Over here.”

You settle both palms on your sternum, trying to sound as if you’d heard the most heartfelt words leave his mouth, “Oh my goodness Doyoung, I missed you sooo much too.”

He mutters something under his breath—what you presume to be a nag of some sort—before grabbing his notepad to step in front of you. A pencil lazily drags on the paper, “So I have an idea but the thing is, I don’t want to show it to you until it’s completed, do you trust me?”

He should know this by now. You shoot him an incredulous glare, “Of course I trust you, I’d trust you with my life.”

There it is, the not so subtle reminder. The reason he’d been so adamant on keeping his distance. 

He internally swats at the butterflies swarming in his stomach.

Being in the same vicinity as you had begun to place a lofty weight on his shoulders, unbearable, unresting. Foreign feelings settled in his chest, manifesting in the sweat between his fingers, rapidly increasing his heart rate as he stood completely still. 

He briefly acknowledges his feelings with contempt, Who the fuck falls for their best friend? 

Everyday Doyoung wakes up to fight the thoughts that would randomly appear in his head—thoughts that would consist of you and him, in scenarios you shouldn’t be thinking about with your best friend. Worst part is that the battle never seems to end; he’d brace himself after completing his nighttime rituals, tugging on his armor to fend off the thoughts that are starting to occur in his sleep too. 

Visiting his mind during the day wasn’t enough? You had to be there at night too?

The nervousness of making a move that could possibly put an end to the time he’s spent with you is what caused him to hold back, never daring to act on his true feelings. 

He’d continue to bite his tongue if it meant you’d stay by his side. It’s how he found himself willing to take on your project, because it meant he’d get to see your face again, under the pretense of work. There’d be no need to address the pounding in his chest that way. 

Pathetically settling for mere minutes of being within your close proximity. For meaningless drags across skin, as long as it’s yours.

“Hellooo, anyone in there?” 

Your voice interposes on his inner warfare. The tip of his lead snaps in half at the sudden pressure applied. He quickly snatches up another pencil off his desk, holding it in his slippery grasp as he begins to jot down some ‘notes’ that consist of nothing but random scribbles, because at this point all he’s doing is trying to distract himself from your gaze.

“Y-yeah, I’ll start measuring now.”

You ponder if this is who he’s become during the time you’ve spent apart. It’s unsettling to perceive your usually confident, sure of himself Doyoung as nothing but an eye-averting, stuttering mess. 

He moves behind you to measure your shoulders. Fingers tenderly drift along your exposed skin due to the tanktop you decided to sport. You’d worn it because you’d figure it would make it easier for him to measure, clueless to the effects you’re having on your best friend.

He internally preens at your softness. Butterflies persistently emerge from their chrysalises, slowly but surely inhabiting every available crevice in his stomach with each slight graze his fingers give to your bare shoulders. 

“How have you been, Doyoung?”

You feel him jump at the sound of your voice suddenly filling the quiet room. He clears his throat, forcing out a dry “Good” before silently attempting to restore some of the moisture in his mouth.

A few moments pass by before you realize he’s not going to elaborate. 

He appears on your left, pencil lodged between his teeth as he moves back and forth between you and a small table to jot down your measurements.

You think about letting him be, but if you’re being honest the stiff answer pressed you, “Months of not seeing me and all I get is ‘good’?”

Dismay imbues itself in your voice, “Don’t you miss me? I’ve missed you.”

Sparks of rage glow in his chest at your implied assumption. His days and nights have been full of you. You’re the only face he wants to see and he’s been depriving himself of it for months now. 

He snatches the pencil out of his mouth, incognizant of the way he hisses out a response, “Of course I’ve missed you, don’t be stupid.”

He quickly brushes you off to resume his notetaking, instructing you to spread your arms out. 

Droplets of ire slowly begin seeping into your bloodstream, “What has gotten into you?”

His hands don’t let up, moving to your right to continue measuring. Your irises are burning holes into the side of his face but he's purposefully ignoring it, unsure of what would become of himself if he made eye contact with you at this current distance, as his hands still diligently glided over you.

His voice comes out low, monotonous—severely overcompensating for the fact that his heart is about to beat out of his chest, “Nothing, what’s gotten into you?”

You scoff, impressed by the effort he put into not looking you in the face. Internally deciding that if he’s going to keep up the attitude, you’d rather not speak to him at all. Mind already set on filling up the room with nothing but the breaths your lungs demanded of you. 

To each of his requests you comply with ease; “Arms up”, “Hands down”, “Relax for me”. Requests that made his movements even more jittery as he approaches the measurements he’s been dreading to take. 

He takes place behind you now, for the sole purpose of saving face. Hiding every single sweat drop and tremble of his fingers behind your back. 

The tape wraps around your bust, just over your nipple. He adjusts it, swaying the vinyl back and forth before pinching it together. Phew, done.

Your waist follows next, he inserts his arms under your own in order to wrap the tape around you. The inclination he gives into your body allows him to get a peek at the swell of your chests—a view that has him sharply inhaling a breath before he quickly turns in any other direction. 

His numbers slowly become illegible, chicken scratch on paper due to his nerves.

The thin yellow band falls to your hips, it's taking him everything not to imagine the weight of his palm settled into your warm flesh. It seemed like the perfect slot, carved out by the gods and made exclusively for him, solely accommodating the size of his palm.

His dispassionate demeanor takes a hit with every tick of the antique clock he’s got hanging on the wall.

Doyoung suddenly appears on your front, pinning the tape to your shoulder before crouching down, trying to find the appropriate length for the dress. You see him sort out some calculations before slinking back up to his original height, still avoiding your face as he begins walking over to his desk. His once tucked in wooden chair crepitates with the newfound weight, he gives his numbers a once-over before piping up, “All done.”

The scuffle of your shoes on the hardwood flooring goes unnoticed. Your warm palm perches itself onto his shoulder, effectively stirring him out of his scrambled thoughts, “What is it, Doyoung?”

He goes slack in the rickety chair, drooping as a defeated sigh leaves his lips.

For the first time since your arrival his eyes finally connect with your own. The oxygen in the room weighs heavy on his lungs, an arm makes its way up to swipe at his forehead—his attempt to conceal the response his body gives to your touch. 

His line of sight quickly veers off to the right, eyelids rapidly shuttering as he gives a not so subtle shake of his head, a silent reprimand of some sort.

Limbs move on their own accord at your end. Index finger and thumb planting themselves below his chin, slightly tipping it upwards so he’d have no choice but to face you.

Doyoung melts into your hold, head now swaying under your command. He holds off as much as he could before longing vanquished any fight left in his bones, allowing for his pupils to lock onto yours once more. 

Now is when you realize his body is hot to the touch, yearning finally presenting itself as something tangible, unmistakingly detectable.

Your pulse rings in your ears. The fingers you planted under his chin gently drift upto his cheek. Soft pads swipe delicately before he closes his eyes to lean into your palm, like a cat who’s been deprived of attention, “Doyoung, you can tell me anything, you know that right?”

It's now or never. You’re giving him an in and he’s not stupid enough to let it go to waste. He brings himself to his feet, slightly towering over you. Stepping close enough to feel the warmth radiating off your body—but not enough to where he loses all grasp of his motor functions. He takes in the details of your face, burning each and every pore into his memory as if the next words he’d spew out would cause you to disappear off the face of the earth. 

Forces intercept. Brusquely massaging at his shoulders, roughly whisper-yelling their encouragement straight into his ear. You got this. Just tell her already. 

Vision turns to darkness out of pure self preservation as the words he’s kept repressed claw up his throat. 

He’s meek but a curtain of certainty drapes over his words, “I think I’m in love with you.”

The faint ticking of his clock was all that followed the confession. Surely if he were to drop a straight pin onto the floor, it would echo as well. 

He’s prematurely envisioning the disappointment on your face, already setting up defenses around his heart to shield him of the rejection he’s sure will come. 

He figured you’d be upset, but to not say anything at all? Had you already begun to deny him access to you? To your reactions? Your words and thoughts and feelings? You’d be able to drop him that fast?

The palms cupping his face soothe his nerves slightly, but he doesn’t dare open his eyes, too scared of what expression might be dawning your face.

“Do you mean it?”

Shy irises peek from under his heavy lids, sudden curiosity quickly swapping places with his fear.

You finish closing the few inches that kept your bodies apart, nuzzling yourself into his chest where you could feel his heartbeat thumping frantically in your ear. 

You come clean, spilling your truths as your arms tighten around his waist, “Doyoung, there hasn’t been a single day that I haven’t thought of you these past couple of months.”

Reluctantly, you pull back from his warmth. Lachrymose orbs bore into his widened ones as your voice threatens to crack, “So please, I have to know… Is it true?”

Piles of anvils weigh on his chest. Long svelte fingers move to card into your hair, brushing loose stands out of your face. His voice trembles, whether it’s the result of his body finally succumbing to his lust or seeing the tear finally spill down your cheek, he’s unsure. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

A thumb lightly drags under your eyes to wipe away the excess water, “How can I prove it to you?”

The electricity floating in the air could kill anyone who dared to venture into the shop, that sole fact led you to believe you’re making the right choice—if one could even call it that.

You lose the fight against your desires. To the fantasies you would even dare to let play out in your mind. Breathlessly you plead out, “Touch me.”

It’s gone. The equanimity he prides himself on is a thing of the past. Instantly his hands are on your body, finding refuge on all the surfaces he’d only dreamed of touching. Dreams that don’t compare to the real thing. 

Teeth clash out of pure ardor, but you'd both rather drown in the taste of each other than pull back to acknowledge the sting.

All his senses are bombarded, on edge with every brush of your fingertips, every whimper that falls from your mouth, the heat that your body emits.

He pulls back from your lips before he gets too caught up in his needs, “I don’t have a condom.”

He sees the way you resume your ministries, paying him no mind. Stuttering when he feels you kissing wet trails along his neck, already undoing the second button of his shirt, “T-There’s a store not too far,” He gulps when your palms settle on his bare chest, “I’ll be quick—it’ll… Hmmm— I won’t.. I’ll umm—”

“I want to feel you, Doyoung.”

Eyes roll past the back of his head at the prospect. Your wet warmth, served on a silver platter, just for him.

Your whispers tickle his ear, “Without any gaps, just you and me.”

A groan resonates in your eardrum and you could’ve sworn it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever heard, “If you keep talking like that I won’t be able to hold back.”

“So don’t.”

Hands immediately drop from your waist to under your thighs, hoisting you up onto his desk. Your poor excuse for a shirt is the first to go, lips inseparable as he struggles to unclasp your bra.

Once off, his fingers don’t waste time connecting with your stiffened peaks, rolling them in his grasp as he kisses at your neck, slowly traveling downwards. The warm saliva he leaves behind turns cool with each jagged breath he forces out his nose. 

Your head lolls back when he wraps his tongue around your nipple. Smiling against the bud when you run a hand through his hair, softly tugging at the strands to keep him in place. Fuck, you’re so sensitive.

Doyoung looks up expectantly—drinking up each and every one of your reactions. Reactions that make precum dribble down his shaft knowing that he’s experiencing this in real life and not just in a r.e.m induced coma.

Arms reach out to tug at his loose collar, bringing him up to connect with your lips in a desperate, sloppy kiss. Your legs wrap around his waist, moaning into his mouth when you feel his stiff length poke at your clothed core through his trousers.

Dizziness is springged on by a lack of air. Only out of necessity do you pull away, chest heaving as you catch your breath, “Don’t ever leave me like that again.”

He cradles your face in his palms, staring into you with a crinkle of fondness in his eyes before something darker takes over, “I don’t plan to.”

One of his hands travels to your nape, fisting at your hair to guide your movements, while the other drags aimlessly over your body, leaving a pebbled path in its wake.

He swallows up every one of your whimpers—savoring the vibrations you’re spilling into his mouth. Vibrations that travel down directly to the tip of his cock, making him rutt against the cloth of his boxers in search of any friction. 

He quickly realizes that the pathetic rubs against cotton only magnify the ache he feels. Nimble fingers quickly unlatch the belt that adorned his waist, pushing his pants along with his underwear down in one swift movement, letting his cock spring out into the air conditioned room. You feel him sighing into your mouth when it’s free from its previous constraint.

Fuck he’s big. Without a doubt the biggest you’ve ever taken. A new gush of wetness sticks to your panties as you try to imagine the stretch he’ll give, how deep he’ll reach inside you.

Your hand moves to thumb at his slit, smearing the droplets of precome, coating his angry red head with a slight sheen. He draws his lower lip into his mouth, doing a poor job of suppressing his groans as he bucks into your touch.

Holding Doyoung in the palm of your hands gave you an indescribable amount of power—ego suddenly understanding the appeal of despotism.  

Sadistic laughter trickles into his ear, “I’ve wanted this for so long Doyoung. To touch you, have you touch me… Feel you inside of me.”

The combination of your words and the way you tug at his length is lethal.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, “You’re all I've dreamt about this time apart, you know that?” 

The hairs at the back of your neck stand up at the revelation, “Yeah? Show me what you do to me in your dreams.”

Bolts of silks and scattered patterns cling into your spine as he slowly brings you down to his desk. Mouth going slack when you feel him settling on your clothed pussy, twitching against your leggings the moment he feels a slight dampness through the thin, cheap excuse of a fabric.

He pulls back to make sure it wasn’t a part of his imagination. You part your legs at his unwavering interest, presenting the small patch of wetness like some sort of medal, “Don't you see what you do to me? Aren’t you going to take responsibility?”

You fucking tease. He’s aware of your dirty tricks, but he’ll let you think you’re winning. He likes the twinkle of cockiness in your eyes. He can’t wait to eradicate it.

His hands move to remove your bottoms, swiping everything off in one tug. You mewl when you feel the cool air hit your exposed core, suddenly writhing on the desk when you feel his thumb gliding along your folds. He weighs it on your entrance, adding pressure but not giving you the satisfaction of inserting it, “Do you really want me that badly?”

You mindlessly nod as you feel his finger slowly traveling up towards your clit, hoping that’d be the only answer he’d need.

He chuckles to himself, an inflated sense of victory weighing heavy on his lids as he watches you furiously clench around air, “I’ll give you anything you want. But how am I supposed to know what that is? Use your words—you're a smart girl, right?”

He hears the beginning of a whine as he pulls his thumb away, “Please, I—”

You gasp when you suddenly feel a new, longer finger inside of you, very slowly pushing into your warmth, “You what—what is it, hm?”

The new intrusion is enough to have you feeling a little hazy. Considerably thicker and reaching deeper than yours ever could. If this is how a single finger makes you feel, you can’t imagine what his cock would do to you.

He feels you tighten around the lone digit, fuck. 

“I believe in you, come on, tell me what you need.”

You start tweaking at your nipples to try to get some relief, “More Doyoung please—another finger.”

Immediately, he obliges. Relishing the sigh that leaves your lips. A single peck to your forehead serves as your reward, “See, easy enough, right?”

“Mmmmh.”

Your eyes are screwed shut so you’re not able to see that he sinks in between your legs, vigilant of the way you clamp around the two fingers. Observing the clear viscous wetness oozing out past the digits and trailing under you. He’s gripping at the frayed strings of self control he’s got left, doing everything in his power to not rip his hand away and just bury himself into you right then and there. 

He feeds his intrusive thoughts by pulling his fingers out and dragging them along the underside of his shaft, smearing the stickiness all over protruding veins—giving himself a few pumps before returning them back to your warmth.

His free hand rakes along the soft flesh of your inner thigh as his fingers still languidly pump into you. The pace is making your head spin, making you slowly lose your hold on your sanity. 

Rather than doing something about it, you play into his little game—or whatever he wanted to call this sick torture. Your hand rests on your mound, taking two fingers to spread your lips apart, effectively showing off your neglected clit, “Here, can you touch me here? Please?”

Honestly, you didn’t think it’d be that easy, so it takes you as a surprise when you feel his mouth wrap around your throbbing bud. Applying pressure with his warm tongue, dragging it in tight circles. 

You prop yourself onto your elbows to get a look at him, pleasure painted across your features as you roll your hips into his face in an effort to match his movements, “Mmmh, just like that Doyoung, fuck.”

Maybe he’s into praise because his pace speeds up unannounced. Tongue suddenly sitting heavier. Fingers pump faster, delving deeper with targeted thrusts. You can feel a tightness coiling in your lower abdomen, locking your toes in a curl. 

Seconds away from pure bliss until he decides to withhold it.

Before you have a chance to complain you feel his hardness sit hot and heavy against your sopping cunt. He presses down lightly with the pressure of his thumb. Gliding himself over your folds at an agonizing pace, coating himself in your slick that seems to never stop oozing out. Making an effort to graze your clit with the crown of his cock every time he pushes up. 

Doyoung mutters when you rock with his movements, pushing your hand down on his dick to rutt yourself against him like a poor puppy in heat. 

This was all part of his plan, a sick ploy to see how desperate you’d get before you start begging for him, just like he’d imagined you in his dreams for countless nights, “Fuck, what am I going to do with you, hm?”

Pained rambled whines spill past your lips, “You can do whatever you want to me Doyoung, anything. Just please do something—I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

Finally, your breaking point. He had to live with his relentless thoughts of you for so long, he figured it was only fair for you to experience a morsel of the suffering he’d gone through. 

A hand moves to press your thigh up, taking his cock in his free hand to line himself with your entrance, “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable and I'll stop.”

You shake your head in acknowledgment, eyes pleading for him to get on with it. They roll to the back of your head when you feel his slick covered tip push past your entrance. 

He brings his hand up to play with your tits to try and distract you from the pain. Immediately regretting it when you clench around him, eliciting a sudden whimper from the man above you.

Your expression quickly morphs from one of pain to self satisfaction. Your haughty giggles spills into the air, “Am I living up to it? It is everything you’ve ever dreamed about?”

You purposely squeeze around him as he struggles to even make sense of the words you’re saying.

His brows furrow as his head turns up to face the ceiling, the veins running along his neck become fully displayed, “No—Fuck. ‘S better—way better.”

He brings his head back down to face you, eyes hungry and silently begging for your approval, “Are you ok? Can I move—can I please go deeper?”

You’re nothing like him, the simple grovel is enough to feed your ego.

He slowly pushes in after you finished nodding, keeping an eye on your face to make note of any discomfort. Kissing away the silent stream of tears that flowed down your face as he gradually sheaths himself inside of you. Hushed murmurs land on your cheeks, punctuated by soft pecks, “Just like that. You take me so well.”

Eyes travel down, marveling at where you’re conjoined, “So perfect. It’s like you were made for me, hmm?”

Perfect was… One way to put it. It helped that his gritted praises were painted genuine, playing in a soothing loop in your ears, adding to the lubrication between your legs.

It takes a moment for the pain to mildly subside, but he effectively lulls you into a relaxed state. You’re able to feel his every twitch, every one of his veins imprinting themselves into your walls. It’s enough to drive you mad, “Doyoung, you can start moving. Please.”

He starts off slow. Conservative shallow thrusts as he nips at your shoulders. The choked out moans you let out play like music to his ears. Sounds infinitely prettier than he’d ever imagined. 

Plush lips settle at the shell of your ear, hot breath frying the few nerves that remained intact for this long, “Do you know how difficult it was to keep myself in check?” 

Your mouth opens but any words you did plan on letting out get drowned out by your whines. His ego swells, tightly grasping at what's left of your composure in the palm of his hand. 

“Any idea how many times I made myself come to the thought of you?” 

The image adds to the wildfire spreading across your skin, unconsciously clenching after each confession.

Breathless pants land on the crook of your neck, “And now look at you,” He lifts himself up to admire your fucked out face, “Are you still with me? Is there even anything going on in your head?”

“You—Oh fuck. You.”

He could swim in your validation all day, float in the warmth of the attention your teary eyes give him till his body starts to cramp up. He reaches his hand to smooth circles onto your clit, “All you have to do for me is feel good, understand?”

You’re surprised that you’re even able to nod your head in acknowledgment.

You can’t stop looking at where his body smashes into yours. Length glistening with your arousal, watching him pull all the way out of you just to plunge himself into your wet heat, filling you up even more than each last thrust. 

There’s a sudden hunger to be as close as humanly possible. Craving his weight on top of you—a closeness that would makeup for all those months spent apart. The entanglement of tongues and limbs makes it difficult to differentiate where your skin starts and ends, the two of you becoming one big web of sweat and desire.

Obscene squelches reverberate in the room, the sting of embarrassment spreads over your face. He feels the pulsing of your walls become sporadic, urging him to speed up in an attempt to chase his high.

The fingers that were rubbing your clit detach, laying flat on your stomach. Just below your navel, pushing down to where he can feel himself pumping inside of you. 

Liquid heat pools in your abdomen. His thrusts become sloppier, lips on your skin greedier. 

You manage to hold back choked out sobs, “Come for me, Doyoung. I’m so close.”

The request makes him feral. Putting his own pleasure as priority for the first time since touching you. He digs his fingers into your hips, lifting them up so he’d be able to fuck into you deeper. The human he’s loved for over a decade diluted into a tight, warm, pulsing pussy, just for his use. 

You’re completely lost in the way his thick cock stretches you out, sobbing as he repeatedly hits the spot that adds white specs to your vision.

His fringe sticks to his forehead, entire face glossy due to the coat of sweat he’s built up, “Look at me while I fuck you.”

It’s his way of showing you how weak you make him—in case his groans bouncing off the walls and the pathetic look in his eyes wasn’t enough. How every drop of rationality and sense dissipated from his body under your gaze, your touch.

His eyes rake over your figure, diligently watching you spiral into pleasure.

“That’s right, let go. I've got you.”

[sinningchan]

DID U SAY DOYOUNG THOUGHTS. BECAUSE I AM HERE WITH MANY.

ive always thought he had such pretty hands <3 so sooo pretty and i wonder how good theyd look like around ur throat or inside u… or around his cock god

k bye lit died reading this ask

spending an afternoon with your boyfriend was always so relaxing. you and doyoung either watched a movie or cooked together, and it’s a time you have come to cherish. ending up passed out on the couch in doyoung’s arms or covered in flour that he poured on your shirt, of course, you loved it! but something just has to ruin it.

you were in the middle of setting the oven’s temperature when your phone buzzed. you reached for it on the countertop, seeing four new messages from your best friend.

it wasn’t that doyoung was bad at sex, he was good at it even. you love him the way he is and how he pleases you, but things like these always bothered you. your friends always bragged about getting new lingerie and how their boyfriends would gawk at them and have an awfully good sexy time.

having a pretty vanilla sex life with doyoung, you never really got to experience these things your friends are saying. you know that doyoung would never even try to hurt you, but if he was such a tease to you outside of the bedroom, it’d be such a delight to bring it in sexual times. you tried talking about it once, but boy did he not get it.

maybe your boyfriend just wasn’t built like that. and although you’re jealous of your friends, you just have to live a life without that kind of spark in your sex life. you never ever want doyoung to change just because of some of your stupid sexual fantasies.

“what are you reading, love?” doyoung comes to wrap his arms around your waist, turning your phone the other way as you smile at him.

“hm? oh uh, just the recipe for the cake. i-i’ll be right back, gotta change my shirt.” you plant a soft kiss on his lips, earning a smile from the man. he had ruined your shirt again, so of course, you had to change. also because you can’t stand blushing too much in front of your boyfriend and not being able to tell him why.

your footsteps fade out of the kitchen, leaving doyoung to set the oven himself. after placing the cake in, doyoung smiles to himself, happy that he gets to spend another weekend with his dear girlfriend. he knows he’s busy with work so this is his time to make it up to you.

whilst smiling, doyoung notices your phone buzzing yet again, curious about who’s been spamming you.

you:

shut up, doyoung does those things too

really? last time you said you wished doyoung chokes you or sumn like that

i still do but it’s not like i can tell him that, he’s not that kind of guy

well whatever, come back to us when you’ve finally told him you wanna be treated like a whore😘

he can’t believe it. doyoung stood there, repeatedly reading your messages with your friends. it was an invasion of your privacy but that wasn’t in his…lewd head right now.

“w-what are you doing?!” you had just come down from your shared bedroom after changing your shirt, rushing to the kitchen to see your phone in doyoung’s hands. you tried to get a hold of it, but the man was obviously much taller than you. seeing the opened message chain on the screen, you wanted to die right then and there.

“you…said this?”

oh no, is he sad? is he mad?! disappointed????!!!!!

“I..t-they’re lying, i was only playing along- d-don’t take it seriously-”

“you’re keeping things from me now, huh?”

your hand immediately landed on the kitchen countertop behind you, your face inches away from doyoung’s. oh god, he’s mad! the look in his eyes, there was no way he was not taking it seriously.

“d-doyoung?” you felt so confused, he looked mad, but it was like his whole mood changed like something shifted. like, like he has a blank face, but mixed with a growing smirk plastered on his face.

oh, and his hand comes up your neck as it wraps itself around to cut off your breath.

gasping at his actions, your thighs rub together to get at least a little friction between your legs. is it what you think is happening?!

“didn’t know i had such a dirty thing in my hands.”

your hand clinging onto doyoung’s wrist with much satisfaction explained in your eyes, not believing that this is really happening. your sweet, lovely doyoung…having his pretty hands choking you like how you had wished all these months.

“please..” you manage to gasp out a word, finally being able to breathe when he lets go. doyoung smiles at how your legs were pressed together tightly, awakening something in him.

if doyoung had known that you were this type of person, he would also have told you earlier that he was happy doing so. how long he’s waited to have you like this, under his full control. he couldn’t help himself, grabbing both your wrists harshly till you elicit a whimper from his knee suddenly kneading on your clothed cunt.

“you should’ve told me, princess. should’ve told me you wanted to be my slut. i would’ve gladly used your pussy however i liked.”

-

© original story by @/sinningchan. Do not copy or steal. Translations are not allowed.

[ncteez]

#8 and #28 with dy where reader is a stripper and doyoung is her rich private visitor, lets him watch her alone for free unlike others. made a bet with her that he can’t touch her while she’s seducing him otherwise he’d have to pay her like half a million LOL but dy doesn’t care in this scenario cos she looks especially sexy so he just fucks her raw on the couch 🤷‍♀️ men will be men and reader gets the cash $$$

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now” + “ Touch me and you lose”

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

wc: 4.3k

paring: doyoung x afab reader

taggs: pussy drunk and rich as hell doyoung, stripper reader, unprotected sex, cream pie

note: slight change of the prompt, she doesn’t give doyoung free dances because this drabble contains his first dance by her. HOPE YOU DON’T MIND NONNY. 

minors dni 

Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. You don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show, what’s not to love about it? 

There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire. 

Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, with children, with stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their doors. To them, you are their secret little stress relief, and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, dancing a little longer for them when they pay for private dances. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage. 

Doyoung was one of those men. You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling in his seat to hide the boner he gets just from looking at a woman he could never have. He wasn’t though, and you swear he bought out the entire club because he was there for hours watching each woman, silently judging. You remember when he made eye contact with you for the first time too. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear your heart skip a beat over the music you were dancing to. 

You kept eye contact with him due to the amount of money he had slipped to the other girls. One of your best friends walked into the back with two hundred dollars. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when she told you it was from the quiet guy you had already deemed as shy. 

He was rich. Even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though, he was tipping with bills that showed his status. So, naturally, you stayed on his side of the stage to dangle yourself in front of him. You kept your eye contact with him until you managed to get three of those big bills from him.

After that first night of meeting him, you never thought you’d see him again. A week went by, a week of good money, a week of eating fancy lunches paid for by the lust of men– and then he shows up again on the busiest night of the week. Saturday. 

You called dibs on his as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though because who the man chose was who would dance for him. Doyoung never chose a girl though. He never paid for dances, never spoke, never so much as shivered in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. 

Weeks and months had gone by at this point and Doyoung became a regular Saturday night face. He became the talk of the back room for a long while until it just became a normal thing. Sometimes the girls would come back with tears in their eyes noting how the man didn’t tip them a dime that time, only to feel better when one of the bouncers brought back a tray of expensive drinks and an envelope with her stage name on it. Other times the girls would roll their eyes at his presence in the club, wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does. Still, that didn't stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of that money.

That is, until now. Half a year since Doyoung became a regular, you walk into work on Saturday night as the sun begins to go down. You had gotten new shoes, big and pretty platforms to slide across the stage in. You bought them with the money he gave you the week before, almost regularly receiving three to four hundred dollars from him alone. He was a big tipper, and annoying because he never offers a chance to let the girls really blow his mind for the bigger tips. Again, until now. 

You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you. 

“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”

You look at yourself in the mirror and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass. 

“Mark, again?” 

The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Mark would be there soon to try and get you to dance for him again though. 

“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe. 

“His name is Doyoung,” 

“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”

“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.” 

Nothing else was said by the owner, he just turns on his heel and walks out. 

“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”

“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays. 

“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”

~

You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good. This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity. 

Whoever Doyoung is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.

“Hi,” You whisper, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always liked when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even. 

The lights are even dimmer when you walk in, and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others. 

The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.

Oh.

“Doyoung?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?” 

He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him. 

“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him. 

“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”

Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.” 

With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it was a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with. 

You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice tonight, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him. 

The pole is cold, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips. 

Doyoung mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now though, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he looks up and down your mostly-exposed body. 

Noting that you’d never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Doyoung actually react to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had came in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it. 

“You’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. “Do you know the rules?” 

Doyoung nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night. Lap dances, personal pole dances, even just lounging and talking, all of it could happen. 

“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It was lap-dance time, and like always, you recite the most important rule. 

He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap. 

Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has. 

You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Doyoung is stoic beneath you, but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face. 

Usually, he is great to compose himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here, that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure. Doyoung can’t embarrass himself by showing you just how much he’s wanted to fuck you since he’d seen you grinding on the stage. 

“I imagine you’re struggling, Doyoung–” You break him out of his thoughts, turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?” 

He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.

“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him. 

“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him. 

When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.

“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh. Deep down, you’re perfectly fine with him touching you, because damn, he’s attractive and has money? You'd marry him right the fuck now, honestly.

He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to, just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.

“How much?” He instantly says, smirking. Because suddenly, hearing you offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has him well aware that he could pull it off regardless of the number you speak out. 

You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion was still there if he were the type to . . . y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper. 

“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm. “Touch me and you lose”

You didn’t expect him to nod back at you. 

“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”

You’re fucking floored. Half a mil is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free. 

The game was on now, as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over him, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out. 

You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”

Doyoung groans, slapping a hand on his forehead with a laugh. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care. 

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand and looks at you with a crooked smile. 

You smile at him, that half a mil is yours. 

“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You wanted to fuck me before?” 

Doyoung nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock. 

“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.

“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers and lifting your head to look at him. When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win. 

“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face in place so you can’t look or wiggle away. 

“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?” 

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin. 

“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, but Doyoung is definitely a client you want to fuck.

“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?” 

You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. 

“No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you. 

“I mean. . “ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”

Doyoung’s cock instantly twitches against his pants. 

“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you.

Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.

You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “You want this, right?” He groans out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.

Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky him, he thinks. 

Doyoung doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is that you want it. Not because it’s your job, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special. 

You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching. 

Doyoung slips a finger into you with ease, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you were more wet than he could have imagined. Seeing it alone confirmed it, but feeling the warm slick envelope his fingers had his cock on fire to be inside of you. 

“Do you want it?” He asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it again with your sweet voice. 

You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him. 

“Good girl.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment. 

His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against him. “Letting your clients fuck you now, hm?” He grunts against your ear when your back is flush against him.

You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. 

“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.

When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you. 

In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out. His cock is pulsing inside of you and all you can do is sigh out with him. 

“Good?” He asks, finally releasing your middle and letting you fall forward against the back of the couch. 

You hum against the cushions, feeling him slowly fuck into you. 

“Hold onto the couch.” He advises you, staring down at his cock disappearing in and out of you, he can’t keep this slow pace up for much longer. 

You do as you’re told, lifting yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Doyoung is pulling his hips back and slamming into you. You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard, that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.

When he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, and lays his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure. His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy. But then he starts talking again, reminding you that you’re the one being fucked and you will not be the one fucking him tonight. 

“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans against your shoulder when he snaps his hips back into you sharply. “I’ve waited so long for this.” As if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Doyoung on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture. 

“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out again, trying to lay claim on you if you’ll allow it. “Don’t ever let another man make this deal with you.” 

You nod, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you. “I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens, finally lifting himself back up to resume a quick and aggressive pace. 

And as if the one-sided conversation never happened, you feel Doyoung release himself as he fucks you at an aggressive pace, cumming inside of you without so much as a warning. He grabs you by the hair, pulls you back up against him, and holds you so tightly that all you can do is cock warm him throughout his orgasm.

The sounds he let out against you were so erotic that you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway, and for some reason, having Doyoung act all possessive over you is much less offensive than it should be. You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow men to pay for bets of sex. Doyoung seems to know and trust that this isn’t a normal occurrence, though if it were it would be none of his business. If anything, you decide he just gets possessive when his cock is wet.

The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money was attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again. 

And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and give your pussy a little tap. He knows you didn't cum, and to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop.

By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.” 

You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you.  He's actually paying you?

“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit of the deal.”

Doyoung shrugs. “You wouldn’t.” He laughs.

Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held. 

“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.

“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”

He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely? What a stupid man. 

“Doyoung–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.

“Just take the card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.” 

“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just left it lying against the couch. 

“Listen, I don’t normally do this..” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”

“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door. 

“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”

You watch him reach for the doorknob. 

“Saturday?” You ask.

“Saturday.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.