misted-dream

[misted-dream]

ok this was funny

recently got hinge and oh boy…

[misted-dream]

recently got hinge and oh boy…

[misted-dream]

FLESH&FURY . . . dive into the world of an enigmatic underground fighting ring. full of bloodied knuckles and bloody noses; what stories do these twisted faces have to tell?

warnings for these fics will be released separately

I. FAIR FIGHT ﹒⌗﹒⚖️ ﹒ ౨ৎ˚₊‧ 제노 + fem!reader

in which . . . by day, you're a prim, poised, and composed lawyer. by night, you turn to unorthodox methods to release your pent-up frustrations. a chance meeting during one of these nights stir up old grudges and grievances. how will this fare in the court of fists and fury?

contents | fighter!jeno, old grudges, enemies to lovers, hints of forbidden relationship, tba

status: wip

II. FATAL FACADE ﹒⌗﹒🩹 ﹒ ౨ৎ˚₊‧ 도영 + fem!reader

in which . . . having been evicted years ago, you accidentally stumbled upon an underground fight scene. since then, you've been desperate to rewrite your life with the little money you make from fighting. however, a small injury sets you back even further than you can imagine.

contents | medic!doyoung, opposites attract, strictly friends to lovers, tba

status: wip

III. FRACTURED FATE ﹒⌗﹒⛓️ ﹒ ౨ৎ˚₊‧ 재현 + fem!reader

in which . . . having gone through a recent break-up, your friends and roommates decide they know just the place to take you to help you get over your good-for-nothing ex. there, you catch a glimpse of a mysterious stranger who looks just as out of place as you do, tempting you to go back week after week just for a chance to see him again.

contents | strangers to fwb to lovers, tba

status: wip

[misted-dream]

would u guys be interested in a dark fantasy, morally grey type of story...

[misted-dream]

js saw sm’s new gg being 2006-2010. ok should i js die then wtf

[misted-dream]

LOOSE ENDS ﹒⌗﹒📞 ﹒ ౨ৎ˚₊‧ 도영 + fem!reader

in which . . . you decide the office you share with your coworker is the perfect place to relieve some tension.

content&warnings | MDNI profanity, office sex (HR violations), switch/subby dy😈, dirty talk, unprotected sex, no foreplay, use of pet names, creampie

word count | 2.3k

a/n | told u i’d be back w dy content😼 anyway if u can’t tell by now, im insane abt dy, subby men, and creampies apparently. i think this might be up there as one of my favs

“jesus—”

your head springs up to the door. your glasses-donning coworker holding a folder up, half covering his face as he quickly shuts the door behind him.

you roll your eyes, hands going back up to button the remainder of your shirt up, leaving the very top one undone.

“i don’t even want to ask what you were doing in here,” doyoung grumbles bitterly, folder still held up to the side of his face as he sits down across from you at his desk.

“calm down,” you can’t help the subtle annoyance in your voice. “mark accidentally spilt coffee on me and i had to change. mind in the gutter much?” you raise your eyebrows, the tiniest sliver of a smirk accompanied with it.

the folder is finally put down, but it’s clear he’s avoiding eye contact with you. looking everywhere around his desk, his computer screen, anywhere but at you.

he clears his throat, “and you couldn’t have gone to the bathroom? like a normal person?”

“you couldn’t have knocked? like a normal person?” you retort.

“how would i have—” he glances up at you for a split second before dropping his gaze back down to his screen. “this is a shared office, last time i checked.” he pushes his glasses up with his knuckle, pretending to type away at his keyboard.

you lean forward, “oh, so you’re saying boundaries don’t apply?”

he snaps his head at you, studying the coy expression on your face. he hesitates for a moment before turning away again in his chair. “let’s—let’s move on before you get us both fired,” he mutters pointedly.

you get up from your chair and you can see him visibly tense up in his. walking around your desk to his, the clicking of your heels on the floor echo in the uncharacteristic silence of your office.

you lay your hands flat on his desk, sitting onto the edge of it. the fabric of your skirt stretched as you cross your legs. you watch his adam’s apple dip as he tries to keep his eyes on his monitor.

“how would i get us fired?” you ask innocently enough, leaning in closer towards him.

doyoung purses his lips together, still not looking at you. “i… have work to do,” he breathes out as if saying that out loud took particularly a lot out of him.

“right, like that’s ever stopped you before,” you pick up the end of his tie, toying with it between your fingers. he finally takes his eyes off of his monitor, watching you twirl and tug gently at the striped necktie.

he takes in a deep breath. then, he wraps his fingers firmly around your wrist. in a hushed tone, he whispers, “yn, it’s too risky—”

“there’s no one in the office,” despite his hold on your wrist, you continue ravelling his tie around your finger, “they’ve all gone out for lunch.”

he raises his eyebrows at you.

“it’s true,” you let go of his tie, slowly running your hand up his chest. “johnny lost some bet and now he’s getting everyone lunch.”

“really?” the skepticism is heavy in his tone alongside his expression.

“why would i lie to you?” you say somewhat impatiently, bringing your other hand to push his hair back.

he shoots you a look that says you have every reason to lie to him, but he doesn’t protest.

“you’re such a bad employee,” his breathes hitches when your cool fingertips reach his neck.

you lock your fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling yourself onto his lap. his hands find themselves naturally settling on top of your ass.

“i’m your favourite though, right?” you tilt your head, eyes focused onto his lips.

“what a dumb question,” he lazily mumbles before pressing his lips onto yours.

electricity surges through your body, and it’s clear not having each other for 2 weeks has taken a toll on both of you. you can’t help moving your hips against him, and what you feel rising between your legs only motivates you to keep going.

a moan rasps from his throat, lips still pressed against yours. doyoung pulls away briefly, chest filling with air as he quickly pulls his glasses off and tosses them onto his desk carelessly.

you cup a hand over his cheek, now sucking on the skin of his neck. his fingers tense, pulling you closer to him with soft and breathy sounds falling from his lips.

“not too hard,” he reminds you through a deep exhale.

reluctantly, you detach your lips from his skin. faces now inches apart, you stare into his lust-filled eyes as your hips grind down into him. a smirk emerges as you watch him bite down on his lip, head thrown back at your movements.

you don’t hold back either—the friction from rubbing against his clothed erection pulling all types of heavy breaths and subtle moans out of you.

his hands are pressed against your back, arching it into him as you move. doyoung can’t seem to take his eyes off of your hips and the way they swivel over top of him. “fuck,” he curses as he looks back up at your face. in a split second, he pulls you towards him and closes the distance between your lips with one hand on your jaw, and the other fumbling with his belt.

his kisses are sloppy, and needy, and desperate. as though you’re a craving he can’t get enough of.

you hear him tug on his metal buckle all the while his lips greedily envelope yours. then, you hear something hit the floor.

doyoung breaks away. “get up,” a command he utters ever so softly. and you oblige. sliding off his lap and turning so that your back is towards him. you glance back over your shoulder as he snakes an arm around your waist, perfectly meeting your lips again halfway. he gives a quick peck or two, then he begins to pepper a trail of kisses down the side of your neck; your hand reaching up behind you to grab ahold of his hair.

with his other palm, he roams it up and down your thigh, the warmth of it setting your skin ablaze. his fingers pinch and gather the fabric of your skirt, hiking it up inch by inch as he continues kissing down your shoulder.

a sudden chill goes down your spine as your skin slowly gets exposed. hiked up to halfway over your knees, doyoung grabs the hem of your skirt and pulls it all the way up over your ass. your legs press together instinctively.

“god, you’re such a fucking slut,” he mutters, his tone a little short of exasperation. “no panties? really?”

as your response, you only leaned forwards onto your palms placed on top of his desk, arching your back for him the way you know he likes it.

“you were planning on this,” he says through gritted teeth—more so to himself than to you—with his thumb working at the button of his trousers.

before you can say anything back, you feel his tip running down your slit. when he takes it away, your body subconsciously pushes back onto him, needing to feel the sensation again.

“you want this bad, don’t you?” his fingers running along the contours of your body, gripping lightly onto your waist.

“don’t act like you’re above it,” you quickly turn your head around to see a smirk scrawled across doyoung’s face—a somewhat amused expression.

“you’re right,” his grip on your waist tightens as he aligns himself with you, “i’m not.”

the way his cock slides in stretches you so much so that you feel your legs buckle slightly.

“fuck,” his breath wavering as he buries his cock deep inside you. “you feel so good—you always feel so good.”

his hips meet your skin and he slowly drags his dick out against you before sliding back in again. building a slow rhythm, his soft moans fill your shared space.

“holy shit,” your voice is barely audible over the sound of his skin smacking against yours. his fingers are dug into the side of your hips, keeping a firm hold on you as he thrusts inside.

a sudden warmth creeps over your body shortly before you realise that his lips are back on your neck, suckling on your skin. you can hear his heavy breathing with every thrust right next to your ear, the heat of it spreading over your shoulders.

his lean fingers reach up from your waist, to your chest, and up your neck—wrapping them around it deftly.

“you make me feel so good,” he hums faintly, “god, i can’t—”

you start circling your hips, pushing yourself back on his dick and meeting his rhythm halfway.

“don’t do that,” his voice strained, “you’re gonna make me cum so fast.” words falling from his lips in an unbroken string. despite that, you continue pushing back onto him, and a little harder. “fuck, please,” he adds desperately, like a plea. “i want to make you cum first.”

“yeah?” you breathe out.

he nods fervently, eyebrows scrunched together and his lips pursed.

you turn around to face him. with a push from you, doyoung plops down into his work chair, legs spread, and you straddle yourself over him. you reach down with his cock upright against your stomach, running your fingers up and down his shaft gently. he can’t help but squirm at your touch, hips bucking slightly.

the grip he has on your hips is so tight that you can hardly push yourself up on your knees. you line his tip up with your cunt before sinking down on his cock, pulling from him a guttural, shaky whine.

you run your hands up his chest to rest atop his broad shoulders. “i’m gonna fuck this cock like a sex toy and you’re not gonna cum until i do, got it?”

he swallows, “yes, miss.”

his eyelids are fighting to stay open as you ride him relentlessly. with his hands on your ass, he holds himself back from bouncing you on top of his cock knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to take it if he did.

his face scrunches up, a mixture of restraint and pleasure evident on it. beads of sweat begin to form down your back. you’re digging your nails into doyoung’s shoulder to steady yourself as your hips roll furiously. every time you sink down entirely on his cock, your clit rubs against his skin, forcing rasped moans out of you.

“shit,” doyoung groans with his eyes clamped shut. “i’m so close, please—” his tone wavering with every word.

“what did i say?” you slow down ever so slightly. your fingers push back the strands of his hair that have broken out of their place. “hm? you’re gonna take it for me, right?”

he bites down hard on his lip, nodding reluctantly.

“use your words, baby.”

he squirms under you, hips bucking up into you to meet your movements. “i’m not gonna—”

you clench around him just to see his reaction; he’ll probably make you pay for that later on but for now, you’re enjoying teasing him.

“fuck, i’m not gonna cum until you do, miss.”

you smirk, “that’s my good boy.” picking back up your original pace, doyoung can’t hold in his sounds any longer. the melodic tone of his moans fill your ears as he fully lets himself go.

he opens his eyes to watch your pussy swallow the entirety of his cock over and over, jaw hung open as he lets you know audibly how good you’re making him feel.

“i love watching you fuck yourself on my cock like that, oh god.” he finally gives in, picking your ass up in his hands and aiding in bouncing you on top of him. “using me to make yourself cum, using me like a fucking dildo,” he strains between heavy, broken breaths. “i just want you to feel good, i swear to god.”

if you weren’t close before, you definitely are now. you feel your orgasm nearing with the filthy words that fall from his tongue. with one hand gripping the back of his neck, the other snakes down your body to run circles onto your clit.

“i’m close,” you mutter breathily. your fingers along with doyoung thrusting up into you is simply too overwhelming. you feel the pressure building up between your thighs, the heat rising to your cheeks. “fuck, i’m so close, doie.”

“yeah?” he licks his lips. “please, cum for me, miss. cum for me first—i want it so bad.”

you feel yourself unravel all over him. muscles in your stomach tensing, a blinding sensation taking over your entire body. his hips continue thrusting, fucking you through your orgasm.

“that’s it, baby. i can feel you clenching around me, god—” his hips stagger, his movements halted. his cock twitches inside of you, cumming so deep inside of your cunt.

the both of you revel in the fleeting pleasure of your orgasms. doyoung pants for air, his chest rising up then falling as he holds you to him as close as he possibly can.

as you’re catching your breath, you trace the tip of your finger along his jawline. his skin glistening with sweat under the bright office lights. you lean forward and plant a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

he chuckles lightly, “god, you drive me fucking crazy,” he tells you in a hushed tone, as if that’s the most intimate thing shared between the two of you today.

you tilt your head. as you begin to lean forward, you can feel his cum beginning to drip out of you, still stuffed full with his cock. “yeah, i know,” you say in the same hushed tone before kissing him. “i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

[misted-dream]

LOOSE ENDS ﹒⌗﹒📞 ﹒ ౨ৎ˚₊‧ 도영 + fem!reader

in which . . . you decide the office you share with your coworker is the perfect place to relieve some tension.

content&warnings | MDNI profanity, office sex (HR violations), switch/subby dy😈, dirty talk, unprotected sex, no foreplay, use of pet names, creampie

word count | 2.3k

a/n | told u i’d be back w dy content😼 anyway if u can’t tell by now, im insane abt dy, subby men, and creampies apparently. i think this might be up there as one of my favs

“jesus—”

your head springs up to the door. your glasses-donning coworker holding a folder up, half covering his face as he quickly shuts the door behind him.

you roll your eyes, hands going back up to button the remainder of your shirt up, leaving the very top one undone.

“i don’t even want to ask what you were doing in here,” doyoung grumbles bitterly, folder still held up to the side of his face as he sits down across from you at his desk.

“calm down,” you can’t help the subtle annoyance in your voice. “mark accidentally spilt coffee on me and i had to change. mind in the gutter much?” you raise your eyebrows, the tiniest sliver of a smirk accompanied with it.

the folder is finally put down, but it’s clear he’s avoiding eye contact with you. looking everywhere around his desk, his computer screen, anywhere but at you.

he clears his throat, “and you couldn’t have gone to the bathroom? like a normal person?”

“you couldn’t have knocked? like a normal person?” you retort.

“how would i have—” he glances up at you for a split second before dropping his gaze back down to his screen. “this is a shared office, last time i checked.” he pushes his glasses up with his knuckle, pretending to type away at his keyboard.

you lean forward, “oh, so you’re saying boundaries don’t apply?”

he snaps his head at you, studying the coy expression on your face. he hesitates for a moment before turning away again in his chair. “let’s—let’s move on before you get us both fired,” he mutters pointedly.

you get up from your chair and you can see him visibly tense up in his. walking around your desk to his, the clicking of your heels on the floor echo in the uncharacteristic silence of your office.

you lay your hands flat on his desk, sitting onto the edge of it. the fabric of your skirt stretched as you cross your legs. you watch his adam’s apple dip as he tries to keep his eyes on his monitor.

“how would i get us fired?” you ask innocently enough, leaning in closer towards him.

doyoung purses his lips together, still not looking at you. “i… have work to do,” he breathes out as if saying that out loud took particularly a lot out of him.

“right, like that’s ever stopped you before,” you pick up the end of his tie, toying with it between your fingers. he finally takes his eyes off of his monitor, watching you twirl and tug gently at the striped necktie.

he takes in a deep breath. then, he wraps his fingers firmly around your wrist. in a hushed tone, he whispers, “yn, it’s too risky—”

“there’s no one in the office,” despite his hold on your wrist, you continue ravelling his tie around your finger, “they’ve all gone out for lunch.”

he raises his eyebrows at you.

“it’s true,” you let go of his tie, slowly running your hand up his chest. “johnny lost some bet and now he’s getting everyone lunch.”

“really?” the skepticism is heavy in his tone alongside his expression.

“why would i lie to you?” you say somewhat impatiently, bringing your other hand to push his hair back.

he shoots you a look that says you have every reason to lie to him, but he doesn’t protest.

“you’re such a bad employee,” his breathes hitches when your cool fingertips reach his neck.

you lock your fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling yourself onto his lap. his hands find themselves naturally settling on top of your ass.

“i’m your favourite though, right?” you tilt your head, eyes focused onto his lips.

“what a dumb question,” he lazily mumbles before pressing his lips onto yours.

electricity surges through your body, and it’s clear not having each other for 2 weeks has taken a toll on both of you. you can’t help moving your hips against him, and what you feel rising between your legs only motivates you to keep going.

a moan rasps from his throat, lips still pressed against yours. doyoung pulls away briefly, chest filling with air as he quickly pulls his glasses off and tosses them onto his desk carelessly.

you cup a hand over his cheek, now sucking on the skin of his neck. his fingers tense, pulling you closer to him with soft and breathy sounds falling from his lips.

“not too hard,” he reminds you through a deep exhale.

reluctantly, you detach your lips from his skin. faces now inches apart, you stare into his lust-filled eyes as your hips grind down into him. a smirk emerges as you watch him bite down on his lip, head thrown back at your movements.

you don’t hold back either—the friction from rubbing against his clothed erection pulling all types of heavy breaths and subtle moans out of you.

his hands are pressed against your back, arching it into him as you move. doyoung can’t seem to take his eyes off of your hips and the way they swivel over top of him. “fuck,” he curses as he looks back up at your face. in a split second, he pulls you towards him and closes the distance between your lips with one hand on your jaw, and the other fumbling with his belt.

his kisses are sloppy, and needy, and desperate. as though you’re a craving he can’t get enough of.

you hear him tug on his metal buckle all the while his lips greedily envelope yours. then, you hear something hit the floor.

doyoung breaks away. “get up,” a command he utters ever so softly. and you oblige. sliding off his lap and turning so that your back is towards him. you glance back over your shoulder as he snakes an arm around your waist, perfectly meeting your lips again halfway. he gives a quick peck or two, then he begins to pepper a trail of kisses down the side of your neck; your hand reaching up behind you to grab ahold of his hair.

with his other palm, he roams it up and down your thigh, the warmth of it setting your skin ablaze. his fingers pinch and gather the fabric of your skirt, hiking it up inch by inch as he continues kissing down your shoulder.

a sudden chill goes down your spine as your skin slowly gets exposed. hiked up to halfway over your knees, doyoung grabs the hem of your skirt and pulls it all the way up over your ass. your legs press together instinctively.

“god, you’re such a fucking slut,” he mutters, his tone a little short of exasperation. “no panties? really?”

as your response, you only leaned forwards onto your palms placed on top of his desk, arching your back for him the way you know he likes it.

“you were planning on this,” he says through gritted teeth—more so to himself than to you—with his thumb working at the button of his trousers.

before you can say anything back, you feel his tip running down your slit. when he takes it away, your body subconsciously pushes back onto him, needing to feel the sensation again.

“you want this bad, don’t you?” his fingers running along the contours of your body, gripping lightly onto your waist.

“don’t act like you’re above it,” you quickly turn your head around to see a smirk scrawled across doyoung’s face—a somewhat amused expression.

“you’re right,” his grip on your waist tightens as he aligns himself with you, “i’m not.”

the way his cock slides in stretches you so much so that you feel your legs buckle slightly.

“fuck,” his breath wavering as he buries his cock deep inside you. “you feel so good—you always feel so good.”

his hips meet your skin and he slowly drags his dick out against you before sliding back in again. building a slow rhythm, his soft moans fill your shared space.

“holy shit,” your voice is barely audible over the sound of his skin smacking against yours. his fingers are dug into the side of your hips, keeping a firm hold on you as he thrusts inside.

a sudden warmth creeps over your body shortly before you realise that his lips are back on your neck, suckling on your skin. you can hear his heavy breathing with every thrust right next to your ear, the heat of it spreading over your shoulders.

his lean fingers reach up from your waist, to your chest, and up your neck—wrapping them around it deftly.

“you make me feel so good,” he hums faintly, “god, i can’t—”

you start circling your hips, pushing yourself back on his dick and meeting his rhythm halfway.

“don’t do that,” his voice strained, “you’re gonna make me cum so fast.” words falling from his lips in an unbroken string. despite that, you continue pushing back onto him, and a little harder. “fuck, please,” he adds desperately, like a plea. “i want to make you cum first.”

“yeah?” you breathe out.

he nods fervently, eyebrows scrunched together and his lips pursed.

you turn around to face him. with a push from you, doyoung plops down into his work chair, legs spread, and you straddle yourself over him. you reach down with his cock upright against your stomach, running your fingers up and down his shaft gently. he can’t help but squirm at your touch, hips bucking slightly.

the grip he has on your hips is so tight that you can hardly push yourself up on your knees. you line his tip up with your cunt before sinking down on his cock, pulling from him a guttural, shaky whine.

you run your hands up his chest to rest atop his broad shoulders. “i’m gonna fuck this cock like a sex toy and you’re not gonna cum until i do, got it?”

he swallows, “yes, miss.”

his eyelids are fighting to stay open as you ride him relentlessly. with his hands on your ass, he holds himself back from bouncing you on top of his cock knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to take it if he did.

his face scrunches up, a mixture of restraint and pleasure evident on it. beads of sweat begin to form down your back. you’re digging your nails into doyoung’s shoulder to steady yourself as your hips roll furiously. every time you sink down entirely on his cock, your clit rubs against his skin, forcing rasped moans out of you.

“shit,” doyoung groans with his eyes clamped shut. “i’m so close, please—” his tone wavering with every word.

“what did i say?” you slow down ever so slightly. your fingers push back the strands of his hair that have broken out of their place. “hm? you’re gonna take it for me, right?”

he bites down hard on his lip, nodding reluctantly.

“use your words, baby.”

he squirms under you, hips bucking up into you to meet your movements. “i’m not gonna—”

you clench around him just to see his reaction; he’ll probably make you pay for that later on but for now, you’re enjoying teasing him.

“fuck, i’m not gonna cum until you do, miss.”

you smirk, “that’s my good boy.” picking back up your original pace, doyoung can’t hold in his sounds any longer. the melodic tone of his moans fill your ears as he fully lets himself go.

he opens his eyes to watch your pussy swallow the entirety of his cock over and over, jaw hung open as he lets you know audibly how good you’re making him feel.

“i love watching you fuck yourself on my cock like that, oh god.” he finally gives in, picking your ass up in his hands and aiding in bouncing you on top of him. “using me to make yourself cum, using me like a fucking dildo,” he strains between heavy, broken breaths. “i just want you to feel good, i swear to god.”

if you weren’t close before, you definitely are now. you feel your orgasm nearing with the filthy words that fall from his tongue. with one hand gripping the back of his neck, the other snakes down your body to run circles onto your clit.

“i’m close,” you mutter breathily. your fingers along with doyoung thrusting up into you is simply too overwhelming. you feel the pressure building up between your thighs, the heat rising to your cheeks. “fuck, i’m so close, doie.”

“yeah?” he licks his lips. “please, cum for me, miss. cum for me first—i want it so bad.”

you feel yourself unravel all over him. muscles in your stomach tensing, a blinding sensation taking over your entire body. his hips continue thrusting, fucking you through your orgasm.

“that’s it, baby. i can feel you clenching around me, god—” his hips stagger, his movements halted. his cock twitches inside of you, cumming so deep inside of your cunt.

the both of you revel in the fleeting pleasure of your orgasms. doyoung pants for air, his chest rising up then falling as he holds you to him as close as he possibly can.

as you’re catching your breath, you trace the tip of your finger along his jawline. his skin glistening with sweat under the bright office lights. you lean forward and plant a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

he chuckles lightly, “god, you drive me fucking crazy,” he tells you in a hushed tone, as if that’s the most intimate thing shared between the two of you today.

you tilt your head. as you begin to lean forward, you can feel his cum beginning to drip out of you, still stuffed full with his cock. “yeah, i know,” you say in the same hushed tone before kissing him. “i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

[misted-dream]

SWEET TOOTH ﹒⌗﹒🍨 ﹒ ౨ৎ˚₊‧ 마크 + gn!reader

in which . . . both you and mark can’t sleep so your solution is a guitar and some tiramisu.

contents | friends/roommates with tension, fluff idk is this what fluff is

word count | 1k

a/n | oh i’m so in love with mark. also came across a yt video abt guitar that inspired this whole thing

the cool winter breeze blows past you as you open the door to the fire escape. you step outside, careful to not drop the spoons on the plate you’re holding. mark’s back is turned towards you. a guitar in his hands, the low strums blend wistfully with the nonstop strains of the city, even well into the night. the sky, neither fully dark nor yet touched by dawn, drifts in a liminal hush.

he looks back at you, then at the plate in your hand. “what’s that?” he asks with an amused smile.

“tiramisu,” you set the plate down gently between you and mark before sitting next to him, overlooking the horizon.

“never known you for a midnight snacker,” he comments as he picks up one of the spoons.

you pick up the other, “guess you don’t know me well enough.” you dip the edge of your spoon into the tiramisu, cutting through the layers with barely any resistance.

mark does the same, and without a word, both of you bring the dessert to your mouths in unison.

the sweetness and the bitterness mingles together in a quiet, unspoken agreement.

you look up, and mark is staring back at you.

“what?” you pull your eyes away in favour of another scoop.

“nothing,” he breaks into a gentle chuckle. “it’s good, where’d you get it?”

“is it so hard to believe i can make something good for myself?” you put forward before taking another bite, leaning towards mark with your palm planted on the cold, metal platform.

“no, no,” he shakes his head, eyes widened slightly. “it’s just… it’s good, that’s all i’m saying.”

you can’t help but smile. “i lied—i got it from a bakery 2 blocks away,” you put the spoon in between your lips, freeing your hand so you can point in some obscure direction that mark can pretend to know.

mark tilts his head, “y’know, you have to stop doing that.” he sets down his spoon on the rim of the plate.

“doing what?”

“lying,” mark seemingly turns his attention back to the guitar rested on top of his lap, positioning his hands over the strings. “have you never heard of the story? the one with the boy and the wolves?”

the metal clinks against the ceramic when you put your spoon down. “the boy who cried wolf?” you ask, stifling your urge to laugh.

“yeah, that one,” he strums a soft chord following his words.

“nope, never heard of it.” you reposition yourself, crossing your legs and leaning back against the building.

mark shoots a glance at you over his shoulder, eyes squinting at you slightly.

he turns back around, head down focused on the movement of his fingertips. you feel the coldness of the bricks through your shirt against your shoulder blades, spreading through the entirety of your back. in the distance, stars flicker like the streetlights below you—some burning bright, others barely a whisper.

mark begins to play a familiar melody, the same one you’ve been hearing throughout your apartment the whole month. it opens with a gentle hesitation, as if the notes themselves are unsure of their place in the world. he’s been working on this very piece for a while but he’s never played it for you. you’ve asked and he’s critical of his work, but sometimes listening through the walls that separate the two of you at night was enough. you don’t suppose he knows exactly how thin the walls are.

the tune fills the air. you take in a deep breath, shoulders relaxing, and you can feel your heartbeat starting to synchronise itself with the rhythm of his music.

each strum feels deliberate, carrying with them the weight of his thoughts. there’s solace intertwined into the song. the low, resonant notes hum steadily, grounding the piece, while the higher strings weave a wandering tune above—a certain lightness pricking at your skin and reverberating in your bones.

there’s an unexpected pause that lingers for a few brief moments before mark picks the melody back up again right where he left off. you notice the subtle bobbing of his head along to the rhythm, a habit he has with anything music-related. there’s a rawness in the sound. a flourish that suggests an impromptu riff. the tune comes alive, shaped delicately by his bare and calloused hands.

the final note rings out, hanging in the air like a quiet exhale. it doesn’t demand applause or recognition; it simply exists.

and before long, it fades away into the skyline.

a heavy silence follows. one that mutes all the city noise under you. one that blankets the two of you under the void of the sky.

“so…” his voice teetering on a whisper, “…what do you think?”

you lean forwards coming off of the wall, pulling your knees together and wrapping your arms around them. mark meets your gaze with a sincerity so profound it renders you speechless for a moment. “i think it’s perfect.”

he rolls his eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “don’t make me bring up the wolves again.” he drops his head, mindlessly strumming at a string.

“shut up with that,” you give him a gentle push that nudges him away from you. mark chuckles. “i’m not lying. i love it.”

when your eyes lock again, it’s like a flame has set you ablaze. a heaviness that weighs down on your chest with every second his eyes linger on yours.

he mutters, “thanks,” sheepish all of a sudden.

mark turns his head towards the horizon. “the sun’s gonna rise soon,” he comments, prompting you to look off into the same direction.

“yeah, we should get some rest,” you say as you stand up, dusting off your hands on your pajamas.

you’re about to head back inside when mark’s voice stops you.

“same time tomorrow?”

[misted-dream]

this doyoung fic has been getting quite a bit of attention recently and it makes my heart so happy

PORNSTAR MARTINI ﹒⌗﹒🍸﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧ 도영 + fem!reader

in which . . . a suspiciously handsome stranger you meet at a bar seems to pique your interest in all the wrong ways.

warnings | MDNI alcohol consumption, recklessness (pls don't do this irl), big dick doyoung agenda, oral m receiving, dom-leaning/switchy dy, degradation + praise, unprotected sex, doyoung is filthy and calls you his pornstar

word count | 5k

a/n | this literally started out as a timestamp. i really intended this to be just pure smut and something quick to write but what do you know.

10:33PM

it's your—what—second? third? cocktail of the night and you’re convinced that you’re still as sober the second you walked into this bar.

you trace over the rim of your empty glass with the tip of your middle finger mindlessly, your other arm hanging off the rest of the stool. with every loop that you make, the annoyance within you grows.

you can count the amount of customers in here on two hands, and on one if you’re only taking into account who’s actually sat at the bar. yet, the bartender’s attention is solely focused on the group of men sat on the opposite end of the counter.

3 of them are sat down while the last one stands, leaning forward on the glass counter. you can’t make out what they’re saying, but by the looks of it, you can probably assume that they’re regulars here.

this pisses you off even more.

you stare into the back of the bartender’s head, thinking that maybe if you tried hard enough, you could will him over here.

instead of willing him to turn his head, one of the men sat down in the group looks over at you. you glance back at him, and seeing as he doesn’t look away, you don’t either.

the man only holds out for a moment longer before he snaps his head away. with how far he is and the moody lighting, you can only barely make out what he looks like, but you swear he was smirking as he looked away.

great.

well, you suppose that this could be another way to get yourself another drink—the drink that you wanted to order about 15 minutes ago now.

in your head, you start counting down the 60 seconds that you’re predicting it will take before smirky stranger gets up and comes over to you.

you drop your eyes down onto the empty basin of your glass, wrapping your fingers around the stem and rocking it back and forth in your hand. as you reach 1, you catch the movement in your peripheral of someone pushing their bar stool out and getting up from over there.

as the man walks all the way down the bar over to you, you choose to pretend you don’t notice any of this.

“hey.”

you tilt your head. your eyes drag up the torso of the man slowly before scanning his face until you meet his eyes. he’s not bad looking.

“yes?” you raise your eyebrows, a somewhat critical look in your eyes.

now that he’s closer to you, you can see clearly the smirk that he’s wearing on his face as he leans on the counter with his forearm. “you here alone?” he swipes a stray strand of hair away from his forehead as he asks.

“does it matter?” you tuck your chin inwards slightly, eyes directly looking up at him.

the man hangs his head forward as he chuckles lightly. you notice him fidgeting with the ring on his hand.

“i like you,” he says, meeting your eyes again.

you sit back as far as you can on the bar stool. the leg you have over the other bounces rhythmically as you return to drawing circles over your glass.

you study the man’s face. the cockiness that he wears is one you know all too well. his unearned confidence seen in the way he’s standing lazily.

you glance at the ring on his finger, then back up at him, “what does your wife think about that?”

the expression on his face doesn’t slip. usually, that particular rhetorical question catches them off-guard, but without even missing a beat, he answers, “does it matter?”

the movement of your leg ceases. unable to tell whether he’s being sarcastic or not, you squeeze out a weak smile before getting off your stool. quickly grabbing your phone and your purse in one hand, you head past the man to the door of the bathrooms on the opposite wall—leaving him standing by the bar alone.

you hear the man calling out after you. as you make your way past his entourage on the other end of the bar, chuckles and murmurs can be heard from behind you. actively ignoring his yells, you head straight into the bathrooms without glancing back once, calling out, “i don’t fuck married losers,” before you disappear inside.

if you thought the bar was too dark before, the bathrooms do you one better. the wall tiles are black; the floors are glossy, and black; everything that you can see is painted black—with the exception of the golden sconces next to the mirrors over the sinks. but the light emanating from them is so dim they may as well not exist.

you balance your phone on top of the soap dispenser. rummaging through your purse, your fingers dig for the rectangular tube of lipstick in there; it being black as well really doesn’t help you out. and the fact that your head is starting to feel like the beginning stages of an implosion doesn’t benefit you much, either.

you finally pick out the small tube from your purse, uncapping it instinctively. you hold the lipstick in one hand as the other grips onto the edge of the sink, allowing you to lean forward into the mirror without toppling yourself over.

you go over your lips with the pigment as carefully as you can, perhaps too carefully. when you’re done, you drop the tube back inside your purse as you pull away from the mirror.

running a hand through your hair, you analyse your reflection. in your judgement, you think you can still pass for sober.

grabbing your phone, you hesitate before going back out again. what if the man’s still in your place?

whatever.

if he is, then you’ll take it as a sign to leave and go to another bar, pub, club—whatever—at least the bartenders there might actually do their job.

there’s a sense of dread forming in the pit of your stomach as you pull the door open. a feeling that’s quickly replaced by relief when you see the lack of boisterous men at the bar table.

you make your way over to where they previously were. sliding back up onto the stool, you wave over the now free bartender.

“a pornstar martini, please,” you say, trying to hold back your still-pending irritation from the events earlier.

looking straight ahead, you see that someone else has also occupied your previous space. you watch as he downs the entirety of what was in his whiskey glass and slams it down onto the counter. he doesn’t look up.

his black hair is gelled back but the day has allowed strands to fall out of place. his shoulders rise and fall visibly just once before he pushes his glass a few inches forward in front of him.

your cocktail is placed on a coaster alongside a small shot as the bartender pushes it towards you, murmuring a quiet, “enjoy.”

the first sip of anything alcoholic is always vile, no matter how much you’ve been drinking beforehand. you down the shot, feeling the acidity burn as it travels down your throat.

then, you alternate to sipping on the martini.

it’s now that you recall your new year’s resolution from the start of the year: drink less.

probably not the best time to stick to a resolution like that in the middle of the bar. but the increasing intensity of your headache is pleading with you to do so.

you’re already halfway through your drink before your moral consciousness kicks in. but the important thing is that it did, you tell yourself, as you push the glass with a third of what was in it left away.

you fish for the £20 notes that you know you shoved inside your purse somewhere. when you finally find them crumpled and hidden under your keys, you lay a couple of them out onto the bar table, sliding it under your drink.

before you can up and leave, the bartender hurriedly makes his way over to your end of the counter.

“miss, your bill is already covered.”

you look at him, somewhat puzzled. there was no way in your head that the guy you insulted like a middle schooler would’ve paid your bill for you.

and as if catching onto your facial cues, the bartender continues, “the gentleman over there covered it.”

you glance over in the direction he gestures towards, over at the only person on the other side of the bar.

“thanks,” you reply quietly and curtly. you take back one of the notes off the counter, and consider taking the other as well, but decide against it last second.

when you gaze over at the man who bought your drinks for you again, he doesn’t even look up.

you make your way over. the least you could do is thank the man who saved you 20 quid tonight, you thought.

the closer you get, the more visible his features become to you. the last guy wasn’t bad looking, but the man sitting there is clearly not on the same level.

his face is of full of sharp, angular planes. the way his cheekbones catch the light from above, you can swear he looks something out of a painting.

“hi,” the coyness in your voice being something that made you want to punch yourself over.

the man doesn’t even so much so as spare you a glance as he takes another sip of his now-replenished drink, one that you're presuming to be whiskey.

“can i help you?”

his tone is somewhat surprising to you, to an extent. you’re used to being the standoffish one in the conversation, not the other way around.

you reposition your stance, standing up taller than before. "figured i'd thank you for the drinks." didn't expect you to be a prick, though.

that earns you a small smirk from him. he rests the drink on top of his pinky, his thumb grazing over the ridges in the glass. he purses his lips for a quick second as he swallows his sip, "well, you've thanked me."

he looks at you for the first time. his eyes hooded and slender, the glassiness of them shrouded in the dark atmosphere.

you nod, "i have."

he rips his focus from you back onto the dark liquor he's swirling around in his glass. giving no sign of further conversation, your body begins to turn towards the exit on its own accord. you take one step forward, the heel of your shoe clicking against the marble flooring.

then, you stop.

something about the man sat there piques a morbid curiosity within you. there's some sort of... magnetic allure that you can't simply walk away from.

you double back over to him. "you know, mr..."

"kim," he follows seamlessly. once again, he doesn't even look up at you, as if he expected you to turn back. "kim doyoung."

"right," you regard him fixedly. "and what exactly do you want from me?"

doyoung clasps his hands together and sighs dramatically. he peers at you out of the corner of his eyes, "what makes you think i want anything from you?"

the line between rudeness and banter has never been stretched thinner in your entire life, and you really can't tell what side he's on.

you put your purse on the counter, leaning in closer as you do so. "does this act usually work for you?"

a strange semblance of pride resonates in your chest as he turns his head to face you.

"what do you mean by that?"

"i'm asking: do you usually get laid by acting like you have a stick up your ass?"

he looks amused, "i have a stick up my ass?"

your eyes dart across his face in a confused, and slightly defensive manner.

"oh, i'm sorry. at least my ego isn't so big that i go around thinking everyone wants to sleep with me."

you push yourself up onto the stool next to him, "yeah, i really don't believe that."

doyoung watches as you position yourself comfortably on the seat. then, he leans in, closer than you'd expected and whispers.

"then, don't."

he leans back into his seat. one hand rested on top of the counter as the other throws the rest of the drink back in a huge swig. his face doesn't even so much as flinch when he swallows it; even just watching him makes your throat burn. he sets down his glass and gets up. snaking a hand around to the back pocket of his trousers, he pulls out his wallet, and from that, a 50 pound note.

he slides the money forward and shoves the wallet back inside his pocket. your gaze follows him as he begins to walk off, though, not in the direction of the exit.

stopping a few feet away, he turns his head back around to you, "you coming?"

on a regular night, you'd probably say 'no' to going somewhere with a stranger. an even higher likelihood if you don't know the where it is that you're even going. but you don't meet curiously handsome strangers on regular nights. and although you follow him, you're still well aware that this could possibly be the dumbest idea you've ever had.

he leads you down a hallway, as dimly lit as the rest of the place. at the end of it is a locked door that he conveniently has the keys for. who this man is and why he has keys to doors in this place, you truly do not know.

behind the lock is a lounge. a vip lounge in fact, as it suggests on the door. you step through the doorway and doyoung pushes the door shut behind you. you drop your things onto the couch right next to you and he tosses his keys on top of some side table.

you look up at him, suddenly being all too aware of every limb hanging from your body.

fuck.

you try to steel your undeniable nerves.

is this where you die?

no.

stop jumping to conclusions.

to the best of your ability, you try to ignore your speeding heart rate. "i thought you said you didn't want anything from me."

doyoung stands facing you, head slightly tilted back. slowly, he unbuttons the cuffs of his sleeves. "question is..." his voice drags out as he rolls his sleeves up to the elbows, "what do you want from me?"

his velvety tone puts your prior conjectures to rest. and now with the added knowledge that he probably doesn't want to kill you, you expected your nervousness to cease. yet, it doesn't.

perhaps it makes you even more nervous knowing he wants to fuck you rather than kill you.

if you were a virgin, that would make sense. but how fast the man standing before you makes your heart beat, how tense he makes your chest feels is the furthest thing from making sense.

you can only take the pumping in your chest for so long and you're blaming the alcohol, but the only thing running through your mind now is the image of you pushed up against him.

not wanting to restrain yourself any longer, you crash into his torso. arms reaching up and wrapping around his neck as your lips meet.

his hands pull you in closer by the waist. your lips envelope his perfectly, as if they were sculpted from each other. his lips are warm, the taste of whiskey now confirming your earlier assumptions. a faint hint of a minty aroma emanates from his skin.

using your arms to leverage yourself, you press your chest tighter against him, earning you a muffled hum as he kisses you deeper.

his palms drop from your waist to your thighs, kneading the muscle underneath slowly with his fingers.

you pull yourself away, breathless.

he looks at you in a way he hasn’t done previously the last few times. it’s like he’s looking at you expectantly; for an answer, a sign, anything.

“don’t tell me you’re not getting anything from this,” you breathe.

“did i say that?” you catch the end of his brow flicking upwards before kissing him again.

you run a hand down his chest, feeling the contours of his body underneath the button-up shirt.

your lips are pushed against his so hard that you’re beginning to feel the pressure from them. you force yourself to break away, catching your breath. through an exchange of lustful glances, you trail your fingertips all the way down his torso to his belt. you can tell he’s trying to hold back a smirk at your teasing.

you bring your other hand down to help with the unbuckling of his belt. suddenly, you feel the firm hold of his hand on one of your wrists, stopping your movements.

“you’re gonna let me have it that easy?” his grip on you loosening a little.

you look up at him with a sly smile playing on your lips, “you said i have a big ego,” you hook your fingers inside of his belt, “i’m trying to prove i don’t.”

using some strength, you pull him off of the wall that you pushed him up against and swing him around so now he's in your spot, back towards the couch. with a single finger, you push his shoulder back and compliantly, he plumps down onto the seat.

you kneel in between his legs. without wasting a second, your hands land on his knees and forcefully push them wider apart to make room for yourself.

just simply watching you seems to make him revel in pleasure. as you undo his belt, doyoung leans back and helps in whatever way he can by lifting his hips. your fingers slip inside the waistband of his trousers and pull them all the way down in one swift motion.

the cloth of his boxer briefs is stretched tight by the bulge underneath.

you sit back on your heels, hands running up his thighs slowly before stopping just shy of the hemline.

"are you going to ask?" you bat your eyelashes up at him.

his bottom lip recoils from being bitten back by his teeth. "you're fucking bossy, aren't you?"

"fine," you begin to pull down his shorts. "i'll make it easier for you." slowly, and that's agonisingly slow, you tug at the band, inching it lower and lower until it springs up in front of you. the tip of it passing your eye level.

you drag the briefs down to his ankles at a much quicker pace.

you wrap one hand, then the other around the shaft of his dick, and still there's the head of it left, burning pink and red. you watch him watch you. his breathing deepens as you give him a lazy stroke.

"do you want me to suck your cock?" a raspiness in your voice that tells him you want this as bad as he does.

"yes," doyoung breathes out, eyes focused on your hands. then, he looks at you, "please."

satisfied with his response, you begin to wrap your lips around the head of his cock. your tongue swirls over the tip of it, eliciting a quiet moan from him. your hands working together pump up and down his shaft in unison—you feel every vein between your fingers.

you can already feel it filling up your mouth with both of your hands still on it. you breathe in as deeply as you can before sinking your head down a little further. the strained moans that he lets slip does more for your ego than the both of you probably realise.

as you go deeper on his cock, you take away one of your hands to let yourself more space. you're only halfway down when you feel the tip hit the back of your throat. at that, you start to push back up. dragging your wet lips on his cock and letting his dick slowly slide out of your mouth as you pull yourself back.

you stroke the entire length of his dick with your hand while you readjust how you're kneeling in front of him. your attention entirely focused on his cock, you don't even notice his arm reaching out to you until his thumb lands on your face and his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up at him.

he hovers his thumb over your lips, gently grazing over them as he wipes something from the corner of your mouth.

you shoot a look at him with your eyebrows raised and he lets go—as if apologising for interrupting you—and his arm falls back beside him on the couch.

refocusing your attention, you spit onto the tip of his dick and smear it together with the precum dripping out from him, covering his entire shaft with it.

you work in a few rubs with your hand before taking him in your mouth again. as the tip of his dick hits your throat, you begin bobbing your head up and down while your hand works the remainder of his shaft.

it’s clear that he’s trying to hold back his sounds, but every time your teeth grazes a vein, he can’t help but groan. you watch him carefully as he throws his head back in ecstasy, hands balling up beside him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he drawls breathily.

the muscles in his thighs twitch. he brings a hand up over his forehead and bites down hard on his lip. doyoung knows that if he were to look at you right now, he would lose it.

your hand reaches the base of his cock, and instead of sliding it back up, you give it a tight squeeze. this has him bucking his hips up into you, thrusting his dick deeper down your throat. “shit,” he pants, with his voice finally above a half-whisper.

he can’t help it; he has to watch. his eyes meet yours—pure euphoria in them. he keeps his steady gaze on you as you take his cock deeper and deeper every time.

a piece of your hair falls in front of your face and doyoung reaches out to push it behind your ear. he runs his fingers through your hair, gathering it all behind you and holding it back in a ponytail.

slowly, slowly, slowly, you drag your lips up. you make sure your tongue swirls over the tip over and over before you finally pull away.

“look at you,” he curses under his breath. “sucking my cock like a fucking pornstar.”

you have to hold back a smirk from showing on your lips. and suddenly, you become too aware of the lipstick that is most definitely smeared all over you.

“get up,” his voice takes on a demanding tone. one that makes you obey his words without even giving it a second thought.

using the back of your hand, you wipe away the drool on your chin as well as your smudged lipstick.

doyoung holds his palms out, waiting for you to take them. as you place your hands in his, he pulls them closer towards him.

you plant one knee next to his hip on the couch, followed by the other so that you’re straddling him. doyoung intertwines his fingers with yours. he brings your left hand towards him, softly kissing your fingers and your knuckles.

“you want to show me how good you can be, don’t you?” he mutters in between brushing your fingers over his lips.

you only nod in response, entranced by his fluttering touches.

"lift this up," he nods his head down at your skirt. without hesitation, you pull the hem of your skirt up over your hips.

the tip of his cock is directly under your clothed cunt. you roll your hips back, grazing against the head. doyoung bites back a chuckle, "i can't believe you're this fucking wet."

you suck on the inside of your cheek, "i can't believe you're this fucking hard."

he smiles lazily, "well, i wouldn't want to offend you."

you land a soft blow to his chest, one void of any real strength. this does nothing but amuse him further.

he cocks his head to the side. "pull them over," he eyes your lace panties.

you slide a finger underneath the sheer fabric, bunching it together and pushing it to the side. your bare cunt practically dripping on doyoung's dick. subconsciously, your hips start grinding back and forth, brushing your folds against his tip.

you're this close to sinking down on his dick when doyoung stops you with a single tap of his finger and a look.

"uh-uh. where are your manners?"

the smugness on his expression leaves you no choice but to roll your eyes at him. "fuck you," you spit out.

"yeah, i don't think that's the magic word," he leans back onto the couch.

"seriously?"

"if you want this dick inside you, you better ask for it, princess."

seeing how stubborn he is, you decide to play along. you lean your body closer towards him, arms once again wrapping around his neck. you plant a quick peck on his lips, then another on his cheek. your kisses trail all the way to the top of his ear before whispering deliberately slowly.

"i want you to fuck me senseless."

his expression says he's unaffected but the twitching from below you suggests otherwise. doyoung looks at you contentedly but still not giving in, yet.

you pull the top of his ear in between your teeth, softly biting down, causing him to grunt quietly.

"please."

immediately, it's like something switches on inside of him. he lines his dick up with your pussy, and without warning, thrusts his hips up into you.

you choke out a moan, the sudden stretch being almost too much for you to take.

he grunts, pushing himself deeper inside you inch by inch. "fuck, you okay?"

despite wanting to speak, the only thing that comes out of you are whines and whimpers, so you resort to nodding your head eagerly instead.

"you can take it, can't you?" doyoung groans, a noise so deep and guttural as he pushes the last of his length inside you.

he throws his head back once he's all the way inside. just the sight of your pussy swallowing the whole of him drives him insane.

he stays still inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. his fingers grip tightly onto your hips, his thumbs digging into your pelvis.

your eyes are clamped shut. you don't want to say it but his dick inside you makes you feel like you're getting split into two. your knees can barely hold you up, having to claw your nails into his shoulders to support yourself.

doyoung reads your expression carefully as he slides himself out, and then in. slow at first. so slow that it feels torturous for him when the only thing on his mind is fucking you dumb.

the more he thrusts, the more you begin to take pleasure in this. building up a steady pace, his hands hold you in place as the sound of your skin slapping onto each other echo in the room.

the friction occasionally rubbing against your aching clit works you into a frenzy.

doyoung begins to pound into you faster and harder, illiciting a long string of curses from you. crying out, you let yourself slump over his shoulder as he bounces you up and down his cock.

you can hear his heavy breathing right next to your ear. "this pussy was made to be fucked like this, wasn't it?" he spits in between his groans. "perfect little slut, made to take big dick so well, huh?"

in all honesty, your mind is clouded by the sole desire to cum. not hearing a word he says, but you agree anyway with tears threatening to spill out the corner of your eyes.

you reach a hand down, rubbing tight circles on your clit. the need to cum has made you desperate. willing to do anything to just to push yourself that little further.

nothing can turn doyoung on more than seeing the desperation scrawled across your face. every time he pounds into you, the tip of his cock twitches inside, swiping against your g-spot.

“my pretty slut’s gonna cum? huh?”

you whine in response, the ability to form coherent words absolutely out the window by now.

“fucking do it then.”

you bury your face in the crook of his neck as you’re nearing the verge of your orgasm. the muscles in your leg begin to spasm.

“cum all over this dick, baby, i know you can do it.”

his sudden use of the pet name for you completely unravels you with his dick all the way inside. legs shaking uncontrollably. you clench around his cock, your pussy walls tightening the harder you come.

as you gush all over the entirety of his dick, doyoung can’t hold out any longer. your screams of pure ecstasy drives him to his orgasm, shooting thick ropes of cum inside of you. his hips buck sharply, pushing his cum into the deepest crevice of your womb.

his jaw hangs slack, eyes closed as waves of pleasure ripple through him. his chest rises and falls dramatically, hands shaky although he tries to steady them on your hips.

“fuck,” you both repeat as you begin to come down from your high.

no longer blinded by your orgasm, you can still feel his cock throbbing inside of you, twitching as your cunt drains the last of his cum out of him.

breathing heavily, you meet his lust-filled gaze.

your thumb runs up his jaw lightly, drawing yourself closer to his face. visible beads of sweat form by his hairline.

you press a soft kiss onto his lips. smirking, you watch him keep his eyes closed for a few more seconds, revelling in the euphoria he’s experiencing.

you reduce your voice to nothing but a whisper, “that definitely doesn’t help my ego.”

[misted-dream]

i need more of your doyoung works because your writing is js perfect 😭

i love love love when i have dy stans in my inbox truly makes my day🤍

thank u sm that means a lot to me that u like my writing😣

i wish i could say i have something in the works rn (i do actually, im just not actively working on it😖) but unis been busy so im trying to not get my ass whooped on that front.

but trust i will return with something to feed all my dy lovers !!

[misted-dream]

I love love love a waltz in the dark. It’s so well written and I love the dynamic between the two of them <3. Also like that one person said you are carrying doyoung fics on your back bc they are sparse and I haven’t found any that are rlly good( like yours) . DOYOUNG LOVERS RISE PLEASE AS ANOTHER DOYOUNG ULT. I am also eagerly waiting for the next part hahaha, ignore my rambling :)

hi!! thank u so much for enjoying my work😕 AND U GUYS R TOO KIND TO ME PLS but it is true that i rarely see dy fics out here, we need to congregate.

but the full fic’s actually been out for a bit! here’s the link ! <3

i hope u enjoy it and i hope it lives up to the expectations😣 thank u again for being so sweet. i cant wait to see what u think!!

[misted-dream]

they did this for ME!! they look so .

[misted-dream]

i saw a fic on my recommended that featured a panty stealer and that always reminds me of that one episode of victorious where they just had a pair of tori's underwear and passed it amongst themselves and used it as a tissue. what was that about...

[misted-dream]

HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYY IDK IF ITS LATE BUT YES HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEN WE LOVE YOU

HI THANK U SM! thank u guys for all the birthday wishes😕 enough to bring a grown man to tears fr

[misted-dream]

happy happy birthday isa! i hope uu have a great day today! thank uu for being an incredible writer and a sweet friend! happy 20th i hope it's even better than the other 19 (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶)

i think u must’ve saw isa’s ask and mixed us up for a moment😭

but thank uu😕🤍 i’m trying to tell myself it doesn’t change anything and it doesn’t really but 20 seems so daunting for some reason. but thank u again for the sweet wishes ily!! <3

[misted-dream]

ur account is literally gorgeous ic an't stop looking at it

ahh thank u that is very sweet!! i try my best😓

[misted-dream]

happy bday mootie 💗

thank u isa😖💝!