teees-position

[teees-position]

😭🫶🏻💍🐑🐑

In This Light Tonight

YangYang Masterlist || All Member Masterlist

summary: on your anniversary with YangYang, you each have surprises for each other, though it's hard to say whose is better

length: 4,865 words

tags: romance, first time (in a long time), oral sex, lingerie

When you started dating YangYang, you made it very clear to him that you weren’t just going to jump into bed with him. You’d done that in the past and gotten burned by men that just wanted to sleep with you then ditch you.

With YangYang, you weren’t taking that risk. You liked him far too much to find out after having sex a few times that he just wanted you for your body and nothing more. 

“Oh,” was all he said at first when you confessed that on your third date. “No sex?”

You look at him from across the table for a moment. “Is that going to be a problem?”

YangYang’s gaze touches on yours before he looks down at the menu in his hands. Your heart sinks as you fully expect him to tell you that he doesn’t think this is going to work for him.

But then his lips pull into a bright smile. He shakes his head a little, then looks back up to you. “No, it’s not going to be a problem. I’m perfectly fine with waiting until you’re ready.” YangYang reaches across the table for your hand.

“What are you smiling about?” You can’t help giggling a little as you let him pull your hand towards him. 

YangYang laces his fingers through yours. “It’s just good to know that someone wants to get to know me a little. I feel like most girls I meet see the idol, just want that physical connection more than anything else. So, yeah, I’m good with waiting. I like you, and I want to get to know you more.”

There are plenty of things to do other than have sex. 

Yeah, there are times that you’re making out with YangYang, or times when you’re cuddled up together, and you can feel him growing hard, but he doesn’t push you. And there are times when you’re feeling more horny, and you think about throwing all caution to the wind and just drawing YangYang in between your thighs. 

You fall in love with YangYang as time passes. What began as a fascination and a crush quickly turns into solid, real love. The longer the abstinence in the relationship goes on, the more comfortable you are with YangYang in every way. You want him to see you in every way before he sees you in that way that you consider your most vulnerable.

And before you know it, you’ve been together for three years. A hell of a long time to go without having sex with your boyfriend. But YangYang has been with you through thick and thin. He’s seen you through rough patches, through highs and the lowest of lows. He’s seen you sick and tired and grumpy and angry. He’s seen you and loved you through it all. And you’ve seen him in all the same ways, supported him through his career. You feel strange when he’s not with you. 

And on the evening of your third anniversary, as you’re eating dinner together, you decide that three years is long enough. You’re reached that last boundary that you haven’t yet crossed.

You’re sitting there in your shared apartment, eating a dinner that YangYang claims that he cooked himself (although you swear when you left for work this morning you overheard him talking on the phone to Kun about coming over to prepare it). The dinner is delicious, and he beams with pride every time you tell him that, so maybe he did act as chef tonight, but you just keep sitting there gazing at him while both of you eat. 

The words almost spill from your lips as soon as you think them. But instead you decide to edge subtly around your true intentions. 

“Why don’t you ever ask me for sex?”

 YangYang chokes on his mouthful of food, and while he coughs, trying to drown his surprise in a glass of water, you realize maybe that wasn’t so subtle after all. 

“I told you I wasn’t going to pressure you,” YangYang says a moment later when he can properly breathe again. “I don’t want to force you into it if you’re not ready, and I always figured that you’d let me know when you’re ready. You like to tell me what you want, I know that. And if you’ve been sitting over there overthinking things, I can promise you, I want to have sex with you. A lot. I have for a long time. I have an extensive mental list of things you do that turn me on belief, a backlog of fantasies, and I’m pretty sure I sprained my wrist one time because I couldn’t stop jerking off thinking about you.”

You snort a laugh into your glass of wine. 

“I’m serious,” YangYang says with a toothy grin. “Do you not remember when I kept complaining about how sore my wrist was? I couldn’t help you move that armchair into your apartment.”

“I remember.” You take a sip of the wine, then sit the glass gently back down. “I wasn’t overthinking, though. I was just wondering what your reason was, just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.”

YangYang nods, then goes back to eating for only a moment before his head jerks up. He stares at you. “Same page? Are we?”

You trace your fingers around the thin stem of the wine glass, smiling a little to yourself before lifting your gaze to your boyfriend’s. “I’m tired of resisting my own urges. It’s been fun to push our limits, a little bit like a very extended foreplay, teasing and edging. But, YangYang, I think I’m ready to finally fully have you.”

“Are you sure?” He asks. The legs of his chair scrape the floor a bit as he pushes back from the table, ready to go now. 

“Sit down!” You laugh, stretching your leg out beneath the table to hook your foot behind his calf, pulling to make him scoot his chair back up to the table. “We’re going to finish eating first.”

You’ve waited this long, so it’s not like another hour is going to hurt anything. You both finish eating, finish off your glasses of wine. You stand together at the sink as you wash dishes while YangYang dries them. 

He must be excited or nervous or something. Every now and then he’ll open his mouth while he’s wiping down a plate with a dish towel, only he’ll shut his mouth again without saying anything. You notice more than once his hands tremble when your fingers brush. He wipes his hands on the legs of his pants. 

“Calm down,” you tease as you kiss him quickly on the cheek. “You’re acting like a nervous virgin.”

“It’s not that.” YangYang shakes his head, sliding his hands against your hips to keep you standing right in front of him. He draws you closer so your chest meets his. His lips hover, almost touching yours. “I want to ask you something.”

“Hmm?” You tilt your head, skimming your lips along his jaw. “What’s that?”

YangYang swallows, fingers flexing against your hips. “I can’t remember while you’re doing that.”

You flick your tongue against his pulse point just beneath his jaw, nip lightly with your teeth, and suck. 

YangYang’s knees nearly buckle. “Stop that. Oh my god, I can’t keep my head on straight right now. Shit,” he moans as you keep going. 

When you pull your mouth away, there’s a pretty rosy mark left behind. You lick over it once just to hear the pretty sound your boyfriend makes. 

“What were you going to ask me?” You bat your eyes innocently. 

“Don’t worry about it.” YangYang’s hand flies to your hair, pulling you roughly forward so he can crush your mouths together. His kiss is intense, powerful, determined to turn your blood into molten arousal — something that he succeeds at. 

You consider letting him fuck you right there on the recently cleared kitchen table. It’s right there, and he backs you up until your ass hits the edge of it. 

“Bed,” you murmur into the kiss. “Take me to bed, YangYang.”

In your bedroom, YangYang’s hand slaps against the wall until he finds the light switch. 

“Wanna be able to see you,” he groans into the kiss when you make a soft questioning noise. “God, I want to be able to see all of you.”

You clutch him tighter, deepen the kiss, raise one of your thighs up to his hip. 

Despite having been in this relationship for three years now, you’re not even certain that you’ve ever seen each other fully naked. Yeah, you’ve seen YangYang shirtless plenty of times. You’ve seen him down to his underwear. You’ve seen his dick too on the occasions when you’ve walked in on him showering or when he’s come in to use the bathroom while you’ve been in there. And he’s seen you in a bikini, has seen you when you’ve been using the toilet while he was in the shower. He’s seen your boobs on more than one occasion (walking in on you changing, the time you had a crazy swollen bug bite under one of your boobs so you had him check to make sure it wasn’t like in need of medical attention, and more). 

You’d each seen bits and pieces of each other, but never all laid out like this. Never in this light — both the literal sense of the golden glow of your bedroom light, and in the less literal sense wherein you’d never seen all of YangYang’s bare skin with this sexual tunnel vision that you currently possess.

He’s all you can see, all that you care about. 

“Sit back,” you tell him, pushing lightly at YangYang’s chest. “Let me show you.”

He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, hands folding in his lap as you take a few steps away towards the small vanity table you’ve got. You can see YangYang waiting patiently and eagerly in the reflection, watching your every move as you reach up to pull the clip out of your hair. 

Your hair falls free around your face, and as you reach for the jewelry you’re wearing, YangYang makes a sound behind you. 

“Don’t take it off.” 

You turn around to face him. 

“Don’t take off the jewelry I gave you, baby. I want to see you in it. Wearing nothing but that necklace, those bracelets, those earrings.” His eyes shine as bright as the diamonds adorning the jewelry he’s been gifting you with daily for the past four days. Of course you’d worn it tonight, and part of you wondered if he was planning to give you more jewelry tonight; the anniversary gift from him was sitting in a nicely bound box on your bedside table. 

But you have more important things to unwrap right now. 

YangYang’s hands slide to his thighs as you lift your hand to the tie fastening shut the wrap dress you’d worn for dinner. A simple tug is all it takes on the carefully tied bow for it to fall apart, and your dress falls open. 

“Come here,” is all YangYang can say, the words somewhere between a command and a desperate request. 

As soon as you’re within reach, YangYang’s hands are on you, sliding beneath the dress to your hips, touching, brushing his fingers along the edge of the lingerie you bought just for this moment. 

You let the dress slip down your arms, pooling around your bare feet on the bedroom floor. 

YangYang wastes no time in coiling his arms around you, drawing you into his lap. You lower your mouth to his, sinking into him, falling into kissing him while his hands explore your body. 

This much is familiar – making out with him, being felt up over your clothes, and the feel of his erection straining against the front of his pants and pressing against you. He’s gentle with you, as if even now as you’re happily sat in his lap wearing nothing but lingerie and jewelry that you might tell him you’ve changed your mind.

“More,” you moan softly into the kiss. You reach for one of his hands where it’s cupping your ass, and you bring it around between your thighs. You’re sure you must already be soaking through the thin material covering your pussy, and judging by the sweet moan YangYang makes when you guide his fingers there.

It doesn’t take long before just touching you over the thin lingerie isn’t enough for YangYang. He drags the material aside so his fingers slide through your wetness. And he breaks the kiss so he can lower his mouth to where your nipples are peaked. 

You arch into the heat of his mouth, twisting your fingers into his hair. “More,” you repeat, tugging on his hair, which draws a moan from him. And he grants your request, filling your needy pussy with first one finger and then a second, his thumb drawing circles against your clit.

Although you’ve been with YangYang for three years now, he’s never even gotten as far as this. Making out, a bit of over the pants action, that was it until today. And it feels fantastic to finally have his fingers on you, inside of you, stretching you, and sending you teetering towards orgasm already. Too close, if you’re being honest.

You need something like a distraction.

“A backlog of fantasies, huh?” You gasp, trying to distract yourself and maybe YangYang too by referencing his earlier comment. He’s a little too skilled with his fingers, and it’s going to have you cumming very soon if he doesn’t slow down. “Tell me about them.”

YangYang lifts his head from your chest. “Where should I start? Maybe with one very much like we are right now?”

And then YangYang begins talking, his voice low and sexy, and with his fingers still stroking away inside you, it actually does nothing to help hold back your orgasm. The tone YangYang’s taking as he spills out in detail the fantasies he’s had about you has your body reacting more than you’d considered.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” YangYang asks after a few minutes of his erotic storytelling. You’re riding his fingers, wetness dripping down his wrist. “You sound like you want to, so come on, cum on my fingers and show me how much you’ve been needing me for the last three years.”

He crooks his fingers inside you, touching just against that spongy sweet spot in your pussy. His thumb flicks against your clit. YangYang leans in and scrapes his teeth over one of your nipples, and just like that your world erupts in pleasure, a supernova of starbursts fill your vision, a series of increasingly loud moans as YangYang keeps finger-fucking you through the orgasm.

You collapse against his chest, hips rolling to take everything he’s giving you on his fingers.

YangYang laughs softly, placing kisses along your neck and the top of your shoulder. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, clutching at his arm. “So good. Now I need the real deal. I want you inside of me, YangYang.” 

“Yeah?” He lifts his head so you’re face-to-face, and he scans your eyes for just a moment before dipping forward, leaving a very brief kiss, and then he’s rolling you over beneath him.

When he raises himself above you, and then removes himself from above you, you make a sound of complaint and lift up onto your elbows. “What are you doing?”

YangYang takes a few steps back from the bed, already working to undo his belt buckle with one hand while the other works at the buttons of the tidy button-down shirt he’d worn for dinner tonight. “I mean, unless you’d rather I stayed fully dressed, my love, I’m taking my clothes off.”

You stay propped up on your elbows to watch him, loving the way that YangYang shrugs out of his shirt, the way he drags off the plain white tshirt he’d been wearing beneath it. He whips the belt off in a way that honestly makes your mouth floor with saliva while you fight the urge to sink to your knees on the floor for your boyfriend. You’ll have time for that later. Right now, you need him inside you.

YangYang loses the pants, steps out of his socks, and then he’s just standing there in front of you in his underwear, his hard dick fully visible against the tight fabric. 

You could probably take hours and hours tonight just exploring and observing each other's bodies. You want to sit here and drink in the sight of YangYang like he is right now, especially as he fits his thumbs beneath the back of his underwear, as he tugs them down and his erection is revealed. Again, there’s that urge to sink to your knees, to take him in your mouth, and pour praises on his beautiful dick.

But instead you bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together against the slick heat that coils in your core. God, you need YangYang now.

You flip over onto your hands and knees, repositioning yourself farther on the bed, and you feel the bed shift as YangYang moves to join you. You turn over onto your ass just in time for YangYang to pull himself over you, and together you sink back against the duvet.

YangYang’s body covers yours. His erection digs against your bare thigh, brushes against the barely-there fabric of your lingerie. Shit, you forgot you were still wearing that, and now you just want to feel all of YangYang’s bare skin against all of yours.

“Take it off,” you say, putting a hand on YangYang’s chest to stop him from pressing you entirely into the mattress. “The lingerie, YangYang. Take it off of me.”

“Fuck, uh, yeah, of course.” He kneels up then, hands curling against your thighs before sliding higher. His fingers catch on the sides of the panties before zipping higher up your sides to the lacy bralette. “God, you’re beautiful. I can’t believe I’m this lucky.”

Heat floods you – arousal and love and pride. 

YangYang’s fingers just seem to slide over the bra’s clasp before it’s undone. He brings both hands to your boobs, pulling the material away with one hand while the other dives beneath to touch, just needing to feel the soft skin of your bare breast in his hand as he whispers, perfect.

Again, your body flushes with heat. You arch into YangYang’s hands, hips trying to roll down for any friction or contact you can get, but you have no luck with that. 

And then he’s leaning in, leaning down. His hot tongue is on your boobs, soft lips, gentle nips of his teeth. Your body is covered in goosebumps, sensitive and coursing with pleasure with each move he makes. And as his mouth leaves your boobs, trailing lower and lower over the expanse of your belly down to the edge of those lacy panties, you can feel your heart racing, and your core is tight with anticipation. 

YangYang’s teeth catch on the front of the panties. His hands hook in the material at your hips. Slowly, so devastatingly slowly, YangYang drags your panties down – lower and lower and you’re going to lose your mind, you think. You watch as his head sinks down, as the panties lower so they’re not covering anything anymore, just banded around your thighs. 

YangYang’s mouth is still so warm and soft when he kisses your clit. His tongue sweeps down to gather your wetness, and you’re not the only one that moans at that. Your hands fly to his hair, and YangYang moans again into your pussy as he gets a good long taste of you. Your hips rock against his face, and YangYang lets you ride his tongue, lets you grind your clit against his mouth.

He pulls back far too soon.

You cry out, and reach for him, trying to pull him back in, but YangYang’s already backing out of your reach, dragging your panties the rest of the way down your legs. They disappear over the edge of the bed, but then YangYang is back, sliding back over you. 

Bare skin meets bare skin as he supports himself over you with one arm. The other hand dips between your legs, two of his fingers sliding right back inside you. 

YangYang looks down at you with a look in his eyes like you’ve never before seen. He’s absolutely in love with you, enamored by you bare for him, open and sweet and vulnerable, and he grins.

You laugh and reach up to touch your fingertips to his smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I love you,” YangYang replies, and his smile grows even wider. “You’re so wonderful, and I love you. I’m just happy to be here.”

“Just happy to be here,” you tease him a little, but you know exactly what he means. You’re so happy to have him there with you, about to take this step in the relationship, a step that should probably feel momentous after so long but instead it just feels right and easy. 

You reach up, curling your fingers against the back of his neck so you can pull him down for another kiss. 

You make a noise of complaint against his lips, but when you feel his penis bob against your thigh a moment later, you cut that noise off. You hold your breath and glance down.

You’ve never seen him like this before either. Sure, once you walked in on him in the bathroom, but it was just a very brief glimpse and he’d not been erect. Now YangYang kneels confidently between your legs, his erection standing slightly curved and dark in the air, engorged. Handsome.

You sigh and moan into the kiss as YangYang twists his fingers inside you just right, as he rolls his hips forward. You feel the hot glide of his erection against your thigh.

“C’mon,” you moan encouragingly. “Inside me, YangYang.”

“D’you want a condom?” He asks without hardly pulling his mouth away from yours. 

“No,” you gasp, bucking your hips up. “You can even cum in me. Just buy me a pill in the morning.”

YangYang laughs a little. and falls forward to kiss you again, and you both laugh when your teeth knock together, and then he’s rolling his hips forward, one hand on his cock to guide himself into where you need him most.

You sigh when the head of YangYang’s cock slips just inside your hole, catching like a key in a lock, and he pushes in further, stretching your walls. And the friction feels better than you imagined after so long without having a dick inside you. Three years with nothing makes you feel like a virgin experiencing this all over again for the first time.

And doing this with YangYang?

Incredible.

His hands rove your hips and your thighs, sliding down to touch your clit, exploring higher to your boobs.

“YangYang, baby, oh god!” You claw your fingers up his back, and grip his shoulders as he rolls his hips against yours. His cock feels so perfect inside you, the perfect size, perfect shape, perfect curve. You know it’s a cliche, but right now, you feel like you can’t tell where you end and he begins. 

YangYang presses his lips to your hair and lets out a breathy sound. “I love you. I’ve wanted this for so long, that’s why I—“

Whatever he was going to say gets cut off by a low moan as you squeeze around him, your pussy, your thighs, your arms all clenching around him at the wave of pleasure that jolts through you. 

“Do that again,” you moan, trying to roll your hips to meet his thrust, hoping to recreate the angle that he just hit because it was so damn –

You and YangYang fold yourselves together, bodies pressed tightly, moans blending between your lips when he picks up the pace, his hand on your clit matching the pace of his hips, and just like that it’s over for you. 

Your climax burns through your body, more intense than the one earlier. Your legs shake, nails biting into YangYang’s back. Your thighs squeeze his hips, your ankles locked behind YangYang as you arch your back, hips rocking on the bed, trying to get him deeper inside of you.

And YangYang groans, hides his face in the dip of your shoulder, and he bites down as he cums inside you.

“Oh God, oh fuck. I love you. YangYang.” The words fall out of you again and again as you come down from your high, holding him tightly, your pussy milking the last of YangYang’s cum out of his cock. Pleasure still courses through you, your stomach muscles still jolt and your chest heaves with the force of your breathing.

YangYang kisses your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, and lastly your lips.

You lie like that for a while, kissing and murmuring soft words of love to each other. But eventually, YangYang sits up, pulls away from you, leaving you empty, but that strong tether of emotion remains.

You close your legs, curling in on yourself while the last effects of the orgasm wick off of you, your whole body buzzing with the most intense orgasm you’ve had in over three years. 

YangYang climbs off the bed and walks off, ducking into the ensuite for a moment to grab a damp cloth to clean you up. He returns, gentle as he cleans at the cum between your legs, leaving affectionate kisses across your thighs and belly. His hands are soft and tender as he undoes the shiny necklace from around your neck, unfastens the bracelets from your wrists, and helps you take out the earrings.

“Did you like seeing me in them?” You ask, passing the second earring into YangYang’s waiting hand. “Dressed in nothing but the jewels you gave me?”

YangYang grins. “I like it more than I should have. I think I’d like to see you in the full set again, shining for me like the star that you are.”

It’s cheesy but sweet, and you laugh, lifting up on your elbows to kiss YangYang’s wide smile.

He leaves again for a moment to put the cloth in the laundry basket, and you close your eyes, sinking momentarily back into the passionate heat of a few moments ago. The intensity of it all, the pleasure and bliss. 

You can hear YangYang rummaging through a drawer for clean clothes, and when you open your eyes he’s coming towards you with a pair of underwear and a shirt. The shirt he hands to you, but he lingers a moment longer outside the bed to pull his underwear on.

You slip into the shirt and pull the collar up to your nose. It smells like him and you curl into the pillows and close your eyes, soaking yourself in the scent of your boyfriend, satisfied and settled in the moment, knowing that you finally feel completely 100% settled in this relationship, perfectly happy and comfortable and at home and in love with YangYang. And you can’t wait to have YangYang like that again, to show him all of your love to the greatest extent.

After a moment, YangYang slides back into bed, and you roll over to look at him, blinking because the lights are still on. One of you is going to have to get back up to turn them off, and it’s not going to be you.

But YangYang doesn’t look like he has any intention of it being him either. He sighs, sliding back down beside you. He drags the sheets up to cover you both, and in the soft heat that rises beneath the sheets, YangYang presses kisses to your shoulder and reaches for one of your hands. 

“I love you,” he whispers softly, the words uttered like the beginning of a declaration of love, but the silence hangs afterwards. YangYang just plays with your fingers, and you watch his face and his hands. You notice the way that his lips keep twitching at the corners into a smile, like he can’t fight down his happiness about what has finally happened between you. 

Outside, a car rumbles by, headlights bright and music blaring. You twist, turning to look at the window, hoping that the car keeps going and doesn’t stop to visit any of your neighbors. 

Something slides around one of your fingers, and you look back at YangYang, his hand around yours, two of his fingers holding something around one of yours.

A closer look reveals it to be a ring.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Happy anniversary,” YangYang’s voice shakes. “I thought you might like a ring to match the rest of the jewelry, but this one comes with one condition.”

Your heart is in your throat. Time feels frozen. Everything around you has gone silent except for the sound of your raging heartbeat and the sound of your breaths mingling with YangYang’s.

“Will you marry me?” 

a/n: originally, this was posted as A Proposal (a T**il fic), but while I was reworking this to eliminate that guy from all of my fics, I decided to just completely rewrite this. It's still got some parts that weren't really changed, but mostly it's just the plot of A Proposal adapted and improved (in my opinion) to this

I hope you enjoyed! I liked writing this because it was the first thing I've actually written in a while

[teees-position]

Born to don't wanna. Forced to gotta

[teees-position]

hai! could i request a mark idol! smut :( im just imagining him coming home all tired but reader is all worked up bcs of mark’s photoshoot (THE BOUCHERON ONE😍) n willing to release all his stress

MDNI, 18+

CONTENT | established relationship, pwp, dirty talk, use of the word slut, oral (m receiving), dick riding, unprotected sex (do not do this)

“baby?” mark’s voice echoed throughout the apartment, announcing his presence. he settled his keys down on the counter before heading straight to your bedroom, where he assumed you were. “i’m so tired. today was—” his voice faltered when he saw you laying in bed, with your hand between your legs.

“mark!” you exclaimed, pulling your hand away and covering yourself up with the duvet.

mark smirked, leaning against the doorframe as he caught you red-handed. “having fun without me?” he crossed his arms against his chest.

you felt your cheeks warm up under his gaze, feeling shy that you got caught. “can’t help it.”

“hm?” he hummed, approaching you. his fingers hovering over the duvet before pulling it off of you, exposing your bare bottom half. “all for me?” his eyes shamelessly roamed your body, licking his lips in the process. your glistening core all just for him. 

“you know it is.” you groaned. mark’s marie claire korea x boucheron photoshoot was released today, and you couldn’t help but admire your boyfriend. and by admire, you mean you couldn’t control yourself from being horny. he looked so fucking hot.

mark signaled you with his fingers, prompting you to move close to him. you sat up, moving to meet his body at the edge of the bed. you wrapped your legs around his thighs, hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt. he watched you with dark eyes, lifting his hand to caress your cheek.

mark leaned down, connecting his lips to yours. the kiss started soft and lovingly until you tugged him by his shirt. needing more of him, you slipped your tongue in his mouth, feeling him smile against the kiss. his hand dropped to the back of your neck, angling your head so he could kiss you even deeper. you moaned against his lips, his teeth grazing your lip as he lightly nibbled on it.

his touch immediately turns you on. you struggled to undo his buttons. mark pulled away, letting out a chuckle when your expression twisted into annoyance from the number of buttons he had.

“missed you so much today.” mark mumbled, his hand slipping down to the strap of your skimpy top that you purposely wore for him. his fingers toyed with the thin material before letting it slip down your shoulder, giving him a perfect view of your tits from above. “my pretty girl.”

you finally managed to undo all his buttons, pulling his polo apart and exposing his chest. he shrugged the fabric off, letting it fall to the ground. you bit your lip at the sight. god, he’s so perfect. you traced his chest down to his abdomen before your fingers halted at his jeans.

mark stared intently at you as if you were the only woman in the world. you quickly undid his pants, sliding them down his torso, along with his boxers. his rock-hard cock springing up his stomach, head twitching at the sight of you.

“let me help you, please.” you whimpered, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

in a swift motion, mark sat on the edge of the bed while you kneeled in front of him. his cock directly in your face. your heart pounded, feeling your arousal dripping down your thighs. you couldn’t wait to have him.

“go on, princess.” mark mumbled, leaning back with his arms prompting him. “take my cock like the good girl you are.”

that was all the motivation you needed. you wrapped your fingers around his length, stroking him while your thumb ran over the slit of his cock, smearing his pre-cum. you darted your tongue out, lightly licking the tip of his cock before taking him in your mouth.

mark let out groans, sitting up. he wrapped his fingers around your hair, making a makeshift ponytail. you swirled your tongue around, making sure to pay attention to the underside of his cock. his thighs trembled when your other hand reached up and cupped his balls, fondling them.

“fuck, baby.” he mumbled, watching as his cock perfectly sunk in your mouth. “so pretty like this. you like having my cock stuffed in your mouth, huh?”

you hummed, bobbing your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks in the process. his hands curled into fists as you licked his slit.

you pulled away from him, making him look down on you with confused eyes. but he immediately threw his head back when your lips connected to his balls, sucking on it before taking it in your mouth. your fingers wrapped around his length, paying equal attention to it, stroking it just the way he likes it.

“shit—fuck!” mark chanted, hips jerking from the amount of pleasure you were giving him. “s-stop, baby, get up here.” he said, lightly tugging your hair, making you release him from your mouth. “need to cum inside your pretty pussy.” his words sent a shock to your core as if you weren’t already wet enough.

you climbed on his lap, making him lean back against the mattress. he quickly lifted your shirt off of you, your tits on full display for him. his arms around his head as he watched you mount him.

“so handsome.” you whispered, admiring his face. sweat trickled down his forehead, and his hair was a mess, but you didn’t care; he still looked so good. “been wanting you all day.”

mark smirked, “yeah? show me how much you want me.” you lifted your hips, grasping his length. you aligned his cock with your entrance, sliding the head along your folds, collecting your wetness. his hands flew to your waist, gripping the skin. “stop teasing.”

you giggled before sinking down on him. “oh my god.” you gasped, face scrunching from the sensation. you had sex with mark a bunch of times, but every time, it felt like it was your first time. he was so big.

you whimpered once his cock was fully buried inside you. groans left mark’s mouth as you slowly lift your hips before sinking down again, trying to get accustomed to his size.

“move for me, baby?” mark mumbled, slowly guiding your hips to bounce on his cock. you placed your plans against his chest, supporting yourself, before moving your hips. a moan left your lips every time you sunk down. “fuck—you’re so wet. what got you this wet?” he teased, and you glared at him, making him laugh as if he didn’t know what got you so worked up.

“all you, markie.” you let out. his cock was stretching you out in the best way possible, your back arching from each bounce.

mark hands flew to your breast, kneading it while his fingers grazed your nipples. you leaned down, wanting to feel him close to you. he took this as a sign to take one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking on the sensitive bud while his other hand continued to play with the other. you whined, rolling your hips, feeling every inch of his cock. he pulled his mouth away but only to pay attention to the other nipple.

“oh god.” you cried out, holding onto his shoulder before sitting up, making him release your nipple with a string of saliva forming.

“keep going, baby.” mark’s grip on your hips tightened, continuing to move your hips in a steady rhythm. your thighs began to burn from exhaustion, but you kept going. his nails digging into your skin as you continued to ride him. “shit—you’re amazing.”

mark could sense you were getting tired so he held onto your hips, prompting you to stop. you paused, instead, he began to lift his hips to meet yours. you gasped at the immense pleasure. he picked up his pace, his cock hitting the perfect spots to drive you inside.

you clenched around him, feeling your release form at the pit of your stomach. “mark,” you moaned, “so close.” tears welled in your eyes. you needed more.

you sat down again, grinding your hips against him, gradually increasing speed. you couldn’t contain the noises that slipped past your lips—relentlessly rutting your hips against his, your thighs doing all the work.

mark sat up, kissing you sloppily as you continued to grind on him. “that’s it, baby. fucking use my cock like the slut you are.”

you cursed out his name. your orgasm washing over you when he reached in between your bodies to toy with your clit. his fingers drawing circles on it, enough to push you over the edge. your thighs trembling as you rode out your high. you felt his cock twitch inside you, and you tried to lift yourself off of him, but his arms kept you in place.

“no, no.” he mumbled, “keep going.”

“but—“

“no buts, come on, baby. i’m so close.” he kissed your forehead. “you said you’ve been wanting me all day, or were you just pretending?”

with his encouragement, you supported yourself by holding onto his shoulders. you tried to bounce on his cock, but your legs grew tired.

mark tsked before flipping your bodies so that you were lying on the mattress. he moved his hips, thrusting his cock in and out of you, making you gasp. your wetness coating his cock as he increased his speed. your mind went hazy from overstimulation, gripping the sheets beneath you.

“so,” he thrusted in, “fucking,” he pulled out, “wet.” he slammed his cock inside you. you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

“mark, please.” you pleaded, back arching. his hands fell to your waist to steady you as he buried his cock inside you.

“almost there, baby.” he muttered, dark eyes watching you writhe beneath him. he absolutely loved it. his pretty girl, all weak because of him. “fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

your eyes roll back, feeling his cock throb inside you. your second orgasm forming as his thumb circled your clit. “so good.” you moaned. “don’t stop!”

“i’m—fuck—cumming.” mark grunted. with a few more thrusts, his warm cum released inside you. it didn’t take long before your orgasm washed over you. your entire body trembling from the pleasure.

mark pulled his cock out, your cum mixed with his spilling out of you, making him smirk at the sight. he leaned down, kissing you softly.

“i should accept more photoshoots if it gets you this worked up.”

[teees-position]

Warning!Nsfw audio

Jeno pounding your pussy when other members are sleeping🩶

[teees-position]

i need number 11 with yangyang PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏

yangyang + ‘quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials’

w/c: 553

a/n: ugh you’re so smart this is so yangyang coded. i really like this one actually I’ve outdone myself this is so hot

tags: idol!yangyang, unprotected pinv (reader is on the pill), dirty talk

“Time-” you gasp, winded as Yangyang presses you against the wall, trails wet kisses down your neck. “How much time do we have-?”

“Five minutes?” He mutters, attention anywhere but your words. “Maybe six. I can do a lot with six.”

You groan as his hand dives under your skirt, greedily pushing your panties out of the way. There’s no denying how very turned on you are, you just wish you’d made him aware more than five minutes before he went on stage. Six.

“You’ll be late.”

“Oh, but baby,” his fingers emerge, soiled with your wetness. “You’re already soaked.”

“Do you-” you start, a little embarrassed to be so desperate, “I’m on the pill, can you just-”

“Oh, wow.” His eyes widen with desire, he’s already unbuttoning his pants. “You need me that bad?”

“I do, Yang.” Casting your eyes down to his exposed erection, a wicked smile forms on your lips, “so do you, clearly.”

He laughs as he yanks your panties to the side. Your skirt drapes over his hand as he guides his cock between your legs, strokes it against your folds, coating his length in your juices. “No denying that. You think you can cum quick for me, princess?”

“Yes,” the nod comes more eagerly than you meant, your whines more needy. “Just need you inside me, please.”

Normally he’d take his time teasing you, he’d rub his tip to your clit in slow, tight circles, really working you up before he eased himself in. But this is not normally, this is four minutes until showtime. His boxers aren’t even off when he takes you standing up, hands gripping your shoulders and his knee to the wall to leverage quick, hard thrusts inside you.

“Oh, fuck.” You cry out before he muffles your wanting moans with a kiss, with his tongue in your mouth, with fevered grunts of his own as your walls clench tighter around his cock.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans into your ear, breath tickling your neck. “Got this pretty little pussy all to myself, got you dripping on my cock, all fucking mine.”

You know dirty talk is the quickest route to both of your orgasms, not that either of you need much navigation. Still, this has to be quick, so you grip his collar, careful even in your desperation not to ruin his stage outfit. “Need you to cum inside me, Yang, fill me up, I’ll cum so pretty for you, all for you.”

“Fuck, y/n.” Breath shaky as he reels from your words, from the friction on his twitching cock, “I’m gonna cum- fuck-”. His release floods your pussy, dripping down your thigh as he tenses and rocks into you. He holds you close through the wave of pleasure that follows soon after, holds you up as your legs quiver beneath you.

A sharp rap at the door pulls you from your post-orgasm haze. “Yangyang!” A voice calls, “Thirty seconds, man, come on!”

With a chuckle, he pulls out of you and wipes himself off with a nearby cloth. Once he’s buttoned his pants up, it’s impossible to tell he was just inside you, that he just came. That there’s a girl backstage still reeling from being fucked senseless.

“I’ll see you later, doll.” He smiles and pecks your cheek. “Coming!”

[teees-position]

could you maybe please write something about mark fingering shy virgin reader and she’s nervous and flustered but mark keeps complimenting and praising her the whole time :(((

Stress Relief (M)

Warnings: sexual content, fingering, shy/virgin reader, kinda proof read

Word count: 2,6k

A/N: jumped for joy when I got this req I need this man so bad

Mark tried, he really did. He tried to suppress those thoughts about you, wanting to touch you, feel you in ways you hadn’t before. He knows you’re inexperienced and currently uncomfortable with the idea of sex, but you’re so perfect to him.

Pretty lips, pretty eyes, perfect body, perfect voice. He’s obsessed with you, but even though you’re his girlfriend, you’re still oblivious to things you do to him. You don’t know that when you sit on his lap, it makes his mind stir, whining his name drives him insane, even playing with his fingers does it for him. It’s not like he’s never tried to slip sex into a conversation, you always shut it down.

But this time, he needs it. He can’t wait.

You run to your door, Mark’s signature knock making you shoot from your couch. Swinging the door open, you see him. Oversized T-shirt, basketball shorts, and his slides, your favorite outfit on him. His long hair was beginning to cover his eyes a bit, glasses almost completely covered.

“I missed you,” you said, shyly taking his hand pulling him inside.

Mark didn’t say anything, just giving you that smug smile he always does when he hears something he likes. “Kiss me.”

You smiled, his directness making your heart flutter. You pulled him closer to you, pressing a light kiss on his lips, your hand resting lightly on his forearm. Mark could practically feel the blood flowing to his dick, even your small touches making him delusional. “How are you babe?”

You shrugged, a small pout appearing on your lips. “between work and school, I’m so tired. I need to release some stress.”

Mark clenched his jaw, eyes scanning your body slowly.

“Release some stress.” You make it too hard to resist you. You’ve been pushing his buttons for so long he's going to burst at any second.

“That sucks. I wish I could help you.” His voice was low, softer than usual. Mark’s gaze made you feel like prey, like he wanted to eat you but you secretly loved it.

“That's why I told you to come over. I wanted you to help me.”

Mark licks his lips, pulling you into a deep kiss softly. You were taken back by his actions, so flustered you gripped his bicep tight while he pressed his body against yours. Your chest presses against his tight, a small whine leaving your lips. Mark places his hands on your waist, letting them trail down to your ass, squeezing the flesh in his hands.

“Mark that hurts,” you whine, slapping his arm softly.

“Let me release some stress,” he says, eyes flickering from your lips to your cleavage.

His predatory gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, the grip he has on your body making your heart race. Your body is hot, stomach beginning to tingle when he bites his lip.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he said almost in a whisper.

“how?”

“Want me to show you?”

Mark could cry when you nodded, your shy gaze averting to your feet after he spoke. He takes your hand, leading you to your bedroom. He can’t see you, but he knows you’re looking at him, eyes wide and brows scrunched in worry. Your hands are sweating, the thought of losing your virginity finally setting in as you take your first step into your room. Mark sits on your bed, a tiny smile on his lips as he watches you stand in front of him awkwardly.

“Why are you so far,” he laughs softly. You move up, standing between his spread legs. Mark looks up at you, his big brown eyes even bigger because of his frames. The man grabs the back of your thighs, rubbing and squeezing your legs. His fingers brushed dangerously close to your aching pussy making your breath hitch.

“how are you gonna help me,” you ask, hands resting on his shoulders. Mark loves speaking with actions more than with his words, so when he pulled your shirt up, kissing your stomach slowly. His lips were soft on your skin, his lip balm leaving residue but you didn’t mind. With every kiss, his tongue touched your stomach, the feeling of the hot muscle making you want him more and more.

“I know you’re nervous,” he says, planting more kisses. “We can take it slow okay?”

You nod, making him smile.

“sit next to me okay?” you sit, barely having a second to get comfortable when Mark grabs you by your waist kissing you roughly. His hands gripped the skin of your sides, unable to stop them from letting them fall further down your body between your legs.

Unconsciously, your legs part, wanting him to continue touching you. You feel his fingers ghost over your clit, the very soft, faint touch of his fingertips through the fabric making you jump, gasping softly.

Mark takes notice, continuing to run that spot slowly, your gasp tiring into shaky breathing. He parted from your lips resting his forehead on yours as he watched your brows furrow. You rested your body against his, allowing him to hold up.

“Does that feel good hm?” Mark kisses your jaw, his hand squeezing your waist softly while his other hand plays with the waistband of your pants. He smirked, biting his lip when you nodded. “Would you let me finger you?”

Your eyes shot open, he stopped rubbing you through the thin fabric staring at you for an answer. “I-I thought we were taking it slow.”

“That is a slow baby.”

You gulped, your nervous facial expression tugging at his heart. You were too cute, it made him want you even more. “O-okay. What do you need me to do?”

He chuckled, kissing you softly before answering. “Well first,” he says, pulling away from you, “these need to come off.”

You could feel his eyes burning into your body the moment you stood up. Your fingers lingered at your waist band, playing with it to try and subside how nervous you were but nothing was going to calm you down. “Before we do this can I just be honest,” you say, looking down at him. 

“go ahead.”

“I'm sorry if I do something or say something wrong,” you start. “I’ve never done anything like this before so I’m trying to stay calm but you know how I get when I’m nervous. I can stop rambling and talking and-“

Mark chuckled, looking up at you with adoration. “It's okay baby. It’s just me.” 

“I know it’s just you. You have all this experience and I have none.” You pout, expecting to be shown pity but he does nothing but smile. Mark doesn’t let you regain your sanity, dipping his fingers into your pants, pulling them down. Your eyes were so wide they almost popped out of your head. “Mark!” 

“sit right here,” he said, patting between his legs. His entire energy shifted. He was sweet and understanding before, but now it’s like a whole new story. Slowly, you sit down, putting both your feet on the mattress. your legs are closed tight together, head down in complete embarrassment. Mark sat behind you, basketball short riding up his legs, his glasses now off and on your nightstand as he tries to focus on anything but your ass on his raging boner. 

“Don’t be shy, open those pretty legs for me,” he cooed in your ear. He was almost at a loss for words seeing how wet you were. You’re soaking through your panties, the cold air hitting you making you shiver. You swallow, watching his fingers trace around the wet spot. You wanted it so badly, but your body felt like it would collapse if he touched you again. 

“Mark,” you whined, covering your face as you turned away from his lewd sensual actions. 

“You’re such a dream.” He was breathing in your ear, fingers lightly pressing on your hard clit. Your hips unconsciously pressed against his hand making him bite his lip softly. “Do you like that? When I touch you right there?” 

He chuckled when you leaned into his body trying to close your legs once more. 

“Tell me what you want. I need you to speak to me.” His voice was calm and soothing, evoking more emotions from you that felt a bit foreign. 

“Mark..I can’t,” you say quietly. “Please just do whatever you want.”

“no no no, I need you to say it.” He watches you uncover your face to reveal an extremely flustered expression, brows furrowed with your lip between your teeth. 

“I want your… fingers in me,” you say, cringing at the words coming out your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says. Mark slides your panties to the side, the amount of slick sticking to them making him almost moan out loud. Mark would never admit it, but when you told him you  were a virgin, he was ecstatic. Mark loves virgins. So easy to turn on, so wet, and when they get comfortable, they get extremely confident. Mark knows how shy and self conscious you are, but it never bothered him one bit. 

“Fuck, look at that,” he whispers, taking his index finger scooping your juices from between you legs. “Do you get like this by yourself?”

You couldn’t say anything. Every cell in your body was telling you to get up and run away, but you needed him so badly it hurt. “don’t tease me,” you squeak out. 

“Oh baby, I wasn’t teasing. I love that a pretty girl like you gets this wet when you think about me.” You could hear the grin as he continued to speak. “I bet you taste as good as you look, hm? You think so?” 

You body freezes in shock watching him raise his fingers to his lips, maintaining his eye contact. Mark sucks his finger, a smirk on his mouth watching your legs shut. You seemed shocked on the outside, but your stomach did about 15 flips already. These were the things you read in books but you never imagined it could happen to you in real life. 

“Baby don't look away from me,” he cooed, turning your head to face him. Mark kisses you deeply making you taste yourself on his tongue. He takes his other hand, prying your legs open. Mark rubs your inner thighs, the feeling of him so close to your core making you squirm. His fingers ghost over your swollen clit, the feeling of being touched there by him making you jump. 

“Mark, please,” you whimper softly on his lips. 

He keeps kissing you, passionate and deep as he rubs your clit slowly. Your brows furrow, gasp escaping your lungs when you feel the surge of pleasure run through your body. Mark pulls away smiling at the way you chased his lips as he parted from you. 

“You like it don't you,” he whispered, watching your hips grind on his hand. 

You nod, brows knit, feeling his kiss your cheek. Your body leans into his back flat against his chest. You can feel his rapid breathing, the sensation sending you into a deeper spiral. Mark stops rubbing, taking two fingers and slowly pushing them inside you. 

“Fuck,” you moan softly, taking his other hand as he pulls his fingers pump in you slowly. “W-wait, can we just-” 

“Shhh baby let me take care of you,” he said softly. He keeps pumping his fingers, hissing at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing around him. The sound of you squelching making him harder and harder, the sheer wetness between your legs being everything he's ever wanted. 

Hearing the sounds of your own whimpering and wetness combined made you cringe, starting to bother. You whine starting to shut your legs in embarrassment, but that didn't slow his movement. 

“M-mark, please,” you whine, face hot from embarrassment.

“Are you embarrassed?” His soft chuckle made a fire light in your belly.

“I hate the sound.”

“Why?” Mark fingered you faster, lip between his teeth watching you fail to keep your knees together. “I love that sound. It's so fucking hot.”

Your whines and whimpers get louder and louder the faster he goes. Your grip on his other hand loosens while your head falls back on his shoulder. You've never felt your body get this weak, not even from touching yourself. 

“Pretty girl,” he whispers in your ear. “My pretty girl.” 

Your hips begin to move on their own, grinding with his hand. Goosebumps form on your skin with the way his rough palm keeps brushing against your clit. 

“You like that? You like my fingers fucking you hm?” He could almost moan when you nod, pushing your hips in his hand even more. Mark moves his other hand away from yours, tugging up your shirt instead. His hand attached to your chest almost too naturally as if he's done this before. 

“Prettiest tits, prettiest pussy,” he says low in your ear. “Fucking perfect.” 

“Mark, I'm so close,” you whine, head turning to look at him. You had the most beautiful teary eyes look on your face, the pleasure becoming too overwhelming for you. 

“Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum.” He maintains eye contact. the way he looks at you makes you want to melt. Your hips moved fast “There you go baby. Good girl. Just keep grinding.” 

“I love you so much,” you whine, taking his lips into a heated kiss. At this point Mark completely stilled his hand, letting you move on his fingers until you came, but you hadn't even noticed. You're so wrapped up in your own world that you can't tell that the extra friction has worn off. “I-Im cumming”

Mark feels your squeeze tight around his fingers, your juices soaking his digits. The look of complete bliss on your face would be enough to make him cum if it wasn't for the blue balls he was experiencing at the moment. “That's it, there you go. I love those pretty sounds.” 

“Shit…oh my god.”

Mark watched you regain consciousness, your face going from complete relaxation to shy in a couple of seconds. “Hey, you okay,” he asks softly, a smile on his face as he watches you still trying to regain some sense of reality.

You close your legs, the air hitting your skin making you shiver. “I'm fine,” you mumble, “I've never done anything like that.” 

He chuckles, soothing your sides with his thumbs. “I know.” He wants to be a good boyfriend, he really does, but the way you look at him through your lashes, your pretty doe eyes looking back at him like you're begging for his cock. He needs you to, he needs you to say you want even more. Mark knows that he won't be able to hold himself back anymore, especially after this. He just wants to reward you for being the best girl he could possibly imagine. Mark wants to make you cum over and over again, show you what it feels like to be stretched out for the first time. 

“Mark, stop looking at me like that,”you whine, covering your face in embarrassment. 

“Looking at you like what?” he continues to gaze at you like he was to devour you whole, the tension making you sweat. 

“Like you wanna eat me.”

“But I do.” Mark loved the shocked look on your face coupled with your legs squeezing together. “You like the sound of that dont you?”

“Maybe.” 

“Would you let me?” 

But Mark knew he didn't need the answer to his question, not when you smile, kissing him softly. Little didnt you know you were about to get yourself into the longest night of your life.

[teees-position]

what do you think 7dream (legal) kinks are?

Thanks for the question! I think these are some of their kinks and/or things that they would be very interested in trying if they haven’t yet.

Mark - dirty talk (giving and receiving); gagging; cumming down your throat

Renjun - spanking (giving); praise (giving and receiving); light bondage (giving)

Jeno - stockings/garters (on you); public sex; clothed sex (him and/or you)

Haechan - role-play; cock warming; marking/branding with hickeys (giving and receiving)

Jaemin - light spanking (giving); wax play (receiving); sensory deprivation (giving and receiving)

[teees-position]

BEAUTY

241028 WINWIN Studio's Weibo Update

[teees-position]

CUTEEEEE

vogue winwin

[teees-position]

day 10 - DILF

nct 1.5k words female reader insert Reader x Qian Kun NSFW

🖤 warnings: the kids next door, kun in white linen pants, wine? idk this one is very safe 🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

This Airbnb has everything.

Weiterlesen

[teees-position]

WINWIN???

[teees-position]

[teees-position]

[teees-position]

[teees-position]

I‘M LOOKING for a smut fanfiction of Kun from NCT/WayV. Where he’s recording his relay cam. And (I think) the reader is giving him a bj from under the desk.

Does anyone know this one? PLEASE send me a link if you find it!!

[teees-position]

🙈🐶🔥

I hate fall - K.JW

Kinktober Day 4

Petplay: Petplay is a in role in which the focus is on the sub entering the altered mind space of a different species.

INTRO: You're stressed. Another year where the dreadful season of fall has won against you, a continuous torture it seems. Your boyfriend, Jungwoo, is ever so loving and eager to please. The perfect little puppy to change your mind.

GENRES: Smut

PAIRING: reader (afab) x boyfriend!jungwoo

WARNINGS: swearing/profanity, puppyplay/petplay, oral (F), overstimulation, edging, dry humping (jungwoo cums untouched), slight humiliation, choking, collars and leashes, switch/dom reader, sub/switch jungwoo - overall explicit content - PLEASE, IF YOU'RE UNDERAGE DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST OR BLOG. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i'm late, i'm late, i'm late! this is already going to shit if you can't tell (=_="). But rest assured beloved readers, i WILL finish kinktober. even if it is late, all 31 days of kinktober will be posted. whether or not that happens before next october is still yet to be determined... ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა enjoy!

*unedited*

Leaves blow through the door, surfing the wind as you try to slip inside. It’s been a long day and Jungwoo can tell by just reading your body language. He comes up behind you as you place your drenched coat on the hanger and kick your sodden shoes off. “Are you alright, my love? Long day?” He asks, genuinely interested as he wraps his arms lovingly around your waist. 

You lean into him, a sigh escaping your lips, “You could say that, baby.” you say, closing your eyes. “Or you could say that this morning the wind blew a trash bag into me that smelt like dead fish.” You cry, hands flying about. “You could say that on my way home it started bucketing down and to top it all off, I lost my umbrella.” you pout, arms crossing over your chest. “I hate fall.” you conclude and Jungwoo laughs.

He listens to you rant on as you try to blow off your anger towards the elements, but it unfortunately doesn’t help. You're tense, frustrated and have got a wild look in your eye that makes Jungwoo lick his lips. Your boyfriend is what people might refer to as a golden retriever. Simply, this is because he makes it extremely easy to be in a relationship with him. He’s easy-going and only wants to make you happy. On a more intricate level, Jungwoo is your good, good boy. Your puppy. 

‘Would playing help?” He tentatively asks from behind, lips touching the shell of your ear. You smile, it might help. “Depends on whether or not you’re a good boy.” You muse turning around to face him. Your hands find their perch on his small waist as you pull your bodies together, looking up at him.  

His hands grip your waist while his head dips to connect his eyes with yours. “Always good for you.” He mumbles, tufts of hair falling over his vision. You smirk, finger tauntingly running up his covered chest, reaching his collarbone before lightly tracing up and down his jugular. His eyes watch your face, a look crossing them that tells you to do it. 

Your eyes narrow as your fingers lace around his throat, his soft skin hot to the touch. Squeezing, you watch as he gladly lets you cut off his air supply. “Why aren’t you on the ground then, pretty puppy?” you ask, a condescending tone threading through your voice. 

He instantly drops to his knees before you can utter another word as a groan emits from his mouth. Luckily, Jungwoo is tall enough that you don’t have to bend down to hold your grip on his throat making it easier for you to slowly choke him. Your fingers tighten, enjoying the way his mouth gapes open and eyelids hood in pleasure. 

His large hands clutch your wrists, his loose embrace letting you know he can take more. You smirk, “What an insatiable little pup you are.”. He only whimpers as your hold cramps around his airway, effectively cutting off his oxygen supply. He relishes in it, his body trembling as his mouth opens in a silent ‘o’. Finally, he tightens his own grasp on your wrists, signalling the need for relief.

You release the tension in your grip, leaving your fingers looped around his neck as he gasps for air. It takes him a moment to come back to you, as you kneel down to hold his face in your palms. You kiss his right cheek and left before planting a light peck on his lips. “Good boy.” you say and he glows at the praise, leaning into your touch. 

Once you’re sure he’s got his breath back, you stand again. “Dogs stand on all fours, pup.” your voice is softer now, he notices and drops so that his palms are holding him from the ground. You smile as he looks up at you in anticipation. “Where’s your collar?” you question but when he goes to answer you ‘tut’. 

“No talking, baby. You know that.” your tone is accusing and Jungwoo blushes before crawling to the living room. You follow as he makes his way to the coffee table, where his collar sits on the surface. His eyes peer up at you as you choose to sit on the couch. “Bring it to me then.” you say, gesturing him to you. 

He turns to where his collar lays, biting it gently between his teeth before he crawls to your feet. You stroke your left hand through his hair, while the other takes the collar from his lips. “Well done.” your approval makes him smile up at you as he wiggles his hips in pretend to be ���wagging his tail’. 

You giggle at his excitement while you hold the collar out to him. He moves his head towards you before whining at you to put it on. It only makes you snicker at him as you put the collar around his neck, clasping it in place. God, you can’t even lie when you think that there’s nothing prettier than your gorgeous boyfriend in his collar, all proud and happy. 

You reach to the side of where you’re sitting to grab ahold of the fabric of his Jungwoo’s leash. When you pull it into his view his eyes say it all. He moves even closer, all but jumping into your lap. “Calm down.” You demand and he gives you wide eyes as he sits back on his knees. 

You attach the lead to his collar, tugging him close again. “Want to go for a walk?” you ask and he shakes his head, letting out another whine. “What do you want then, silly pup?” your done is slightly degrading and Jungwoo loves it. Loves the way that nasty words can spill out of your mouth so easily, he wishes you’d be meaner. 

He moves closer to your closed legs, pawing at them. Your eyebrow rises as he realises you won’t open them before his head is nudging at them. A whimper escapes him. Jungwoo just wants to please you and make you feel better, this will make you feel better. It always does. 

You slowly part your legs, eyes watching him as his zone in on the wet patch in your panties beneath your skirt. His gaze catches yours as he begs you with his puppy eyes. With his pupils blown wide and tongue practically falling from his mouth, how’re you supposed to say no? 

“Go ahead, puppy.” you confirm as he lurches forward, sucking at the damp spot. He groans as he tastes you on his tongue, though getting frustrated that he can’t feel your skin in his mouth. You moan out as his teeth nip at the fabric, pulling it from your soaking pussy, indicating he wants your panties gone. 

A grumble resonates from his chest that sends heat to your core as you lift your hips from the couch. Pushing your panties from your hips as Jungwoo patiently (not really with the way his eyes watch you) waits. Kicking them the rest of the way down your legs, he wastes no time diving into you again. 

The way Jungwoo eats you out is pretty and calculated while at the same time being uncoordinated and rough. He knows all the right places to get you really going. Fuck, he could make you cum on his tongue in less than a minute if he really wanted to, but you can tell by the way he’s working you up quickly that that’s most likely not the case. 

Although in your relationship you seem to make the shots and Jungwoo simply obeys, that’s not always the case. It’s very push and pull in your relationship. For the most part you do decide what’s what, but in situations like this, Jungwoo tends to do his own thing. Which can be torturous for you if he’s not in the right mood.

If he’s in the mood to make you forget about your bad day, you’re going to forget. You know that much as he sucks your clit between his lips harshly. His teeth graze gently over your sensitive nerves making you buck your hips into his mouth. A series of moans float throughout the room as your orgasm rushes up on you. 

Jungwoo knows your body too well. The signs when you're upset, angry and he’s especially good at telling when you're gonna cum. You’re not the most subtle, you will be the first to admit, but he does has it perfected. So well in fact, that the second you start to sit on the edge of your orgasm, it’s gone. 

You cry out as he starts sucking at the skin of your inner thighs. “Brat.” you scowl pulling at his lead, tugging him to your needy pussy again. His dark, wide eyes look up at you, begging to be humiliated, and who are you to deny him such an act?

You smile as he moves his lips to your dripping hole, slurping and lapping at your juices as lewd sounds fill the room. You grip his hair harshly, a whimper escaping him, “What a dirty whore you are, puppy.” you spit as his head hangs limp in your hold. 

You pull his greedy lips from your leaking pussy, a loud whine echoing the room, “Those who tease their owner, don’t get pussy. Look at you, on your hands and knees like a fucking desperate slut.” You hiss, “Now make me fucking cum or your ass will be so sore you won’t sit for a week.” you threaten and you can tell it affects Jungwoo by the way his cock protrudes from his sweatpants, making you lick your lips. 

You tug at his leash once more, pulling him closely to your heated pussy. He doesn’t resist as your hand in his hair pushes his face into you. With no choice, you feel his lips circle around your clit. It makes you toss your head back as you focus on the feeling before his tongue dips into your pussy. It’s surprising how far he can push it into your tight hole and it makes him moan the way you clench around his hot muscle. 

Curses and broken moans emit from your own chest as the hand in his hair begins to drag his head up and down over your pussy. He flattens his tongue out as you use his face like your own personal toy. The thought makes Jungwoo so hard it’s painful. 

You feel a pressure on your leg as you drag his mouth over your pussy, too lost in your own pleasure you pay it no mind until he starts moaning repeatedly into you. You feel your orgasm begin to build up as the vibrations of his moaning send your sensitive pussy into overdrive. 

You glance down at  Jungwoo to see why he’s making so much noise, only to watch as he’s rutting his clothed cock against your bare leg. “Dirty fucking dog.” you spit, making his eyes look up at you from where he’s shoved deep into your soaking heat. A lingering flash of embarrassment shows in his eyes as you observe your juices dripping down his face. 

The visual of him and the magic of his tongue speed up your orgasm as you feel his hard cock thrust into your calf. A strained groan passes through your parted lips as you feel your orgasm rush through you. You try to no avail to hold back the high pitched moans that begin to escape you as his tongue keeps swiping over your abused clit. 

Your body shakes in overstimulation as Jungwoo keeps his lips on your sensitive bud, sucking harshly making you cry out, “Jungwoo.” The way his name rolls from your lips makes his hips stutter into your leg as both your hands grip his hair. The painful pleasure on your pussy as he rides out your orgasm until he reaches his own. 

His groan into your pussy is muffled, the sound akin to what you would expect a drowning man would sound like. He pulls back from you, gasping as your hands leave his hair in favour of gripping your thighs. His sweet moan bounce off the walls of the small room, echoing in your ears as you watch him come apart without even being touched. 

You stroke his head soothingly as he leans against your knees, short, puffed gasps breaking from his lungs. His hair, damp and sticky from your cum, sticks to his forehead before you push it back from his face. He’s dripping from your cum, lips chewed and wet as your juices drop from his chin to the floor. 

You bring his chin up to look at you and he shoots you a content smile. “Good boy.” you whisper, your own body relaxed and exhausted. 

“I might have to do this everyday if you’re gonna keep  walking through the door stressed as fuck.” He grins and you only wobbly stand, holding a hand out as you help pull him up from his sore knees. Directing him towards the shower, you interlock your fingers with his, leaning against his side. 

In that case, fall might become my favourite season after all.

[teees-position]

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

F.U.C.K

pairing: enemies to lovers! doyoung x fem! reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff

word count: 9.7k

warnings: alcohol consumption, oral (female receiving), public sex, sex under the influence, praise kink, breathplay, groping, dirty talk, doyoung lifts the reader at some point

summary: “If there was one person you’d imagine taking as a plus one to your cousin’s wedding, it definitely wouldn’t be Doyoung - your definition of a sour know-it-all in flesh and bones. Blame it on your friends that are never there when you need them, or your annoying curiosity for his cold demeanor, but there he is, downing expensive champagne with you.

One glass and you can still stand him.

Two glasses and he’s not so bad after all.

Three glasses and he’s in your bed.

Does the boy drive you mad or are you mad about the boy?”

“This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had in the one year we’ve worked together. I don’t think you're smooth enough to convince me to sleep with you. Besides, didn’t you say you’d never sleep with me like, ten minutes ago?”

“That was different. Now I have something to prove.”

“Which is?”

“That you still find me attractive enough to sleep with me.”

“Please”, you scoff, “don’t flatter yourself. In fact, I bet you can’t turn me on even if you tried.”

“Oh really?”

“Yup. You can try. Right now.”

Doyoung goes silent in thought for a couple of seconds, looking more determined than ever when he speaks again.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes”, you answer immediately, gulping dryly at the thought of your coworker’s hands on you.

“Okay.”

a/n: This is my extremely late submission to @slightlymore 's Doyoung collab "mad about the boy" <33

general taglist: @naomis-sins , @jjaeyoonoh, @infnteen , @babyksworld, @kaja2016

“What do you mean you only have a room with a double bed?”

Your fingers threaten to rip your hair out with how tight your grip is on your locks, trying your hardest to explain to the young receptionist that you’ve explicitly requested a double room with separate beds. You must look so miserable, huffing and puffing in the lobby of this beautiful summer resort that your cousin booked for her wedding. Stoic and bored, your plus one waits for you to get your room card already, toying with a plastic spider plant next to your luggage in the meantime. As if the whole thing doesn’t bother him in the slightest. As if he doesn’t hate you just as much as you do.

You met Doyoung at the high school you work at. He’s a Physics professor while you teach Math, and for the rest of the teaching faculty this was enough of a reason to convince you to go on a date with each other. “It’s meant to be!”, they’d tell you during break time, urging you to go up to him and ask for his number. Your mouth would gape in shock as they’d recount stories of how fun he was at their birthday party, or how helpful he was in their time of need. A new student would come up to you every week, handing you a hand-written love letter with trembling hands, and ask you to pass it on to their favorite Physics teacher.

What was so great about the guy anyway?

He’s handsome, sure, long limbs and royal stature making him stand out in the crowd. His rich academic career and leading abilities demanded respect from his colleagues, while his youthful face made him approachable to the students. If you wanted something to be done and executed well, you’d leave it up to Mr. Kim. But why should all of this matter to you when the guy hates your guts from the moment he stepped foot in this goddamned school?

You can only conclude he does, with the way he avoids you like the plague. Parent-teacher meetings, field trips, school dance chaperone duties - he’d change and bend the schedule so that he ensures he’s in the same room as you for the least amount of time possible. Your wounded pride combined with his cold demeanor was enough for your silent hatred towards Doyoung to slowly boil in your heart.

Your third cousin’s wedding invitation got shipped to your house on a cold winter night. The ceremony would take place on an island three months from now, while the accommodation and plane tickets would be covered by the couple. She actually used to teach at the same school as you, something that brought the two of you closer, and while you love her to bits you also want to block her on Facebook so, so badly. You can only handle so many posts of her perfect dog and her perfect house and her rich husband that flies her out to Bali every summer before you lose your mind.

When you opened up the envelope, a black tear full of your mascara soiled the pretty handwriting. You were finishing up a bottle of wine, mourning the end of your latest relationship - a personal trainer who convinced you to sign up to his stupid gym and couldn’t make you orgasm even if he had a gun pointed to the back of his head. “Fuck you!”, you screamed at the lifeless piece of cardboard as you drunkenly circle that you will bring a plus one, and he will be much more fun and interesting and hot than the all-purpose flour of a man your cousin’s getting married to.

You only got reminded of your drunken mistake a week before the wedding, when your cousin called you to confirm you’d still make it to the venue with your company. Stressed and confused you said yes, as you’d rather die than admit that it was all due to an unwanted gym membership and a head full of alcohol. Plus, you really wanted to be there on her special day. It wasn’t like you couldn’t find one person to bring along, right?

Wrong. You were stuck on your phone for an entire day, your ear burning from the overuse and the heat of the consecutive rejections from your friends and family. A birthday party, a football game, a baby shower - they were all seemingly more important than a week’s notice destination wedding, each apology pushing you deeper and deeper in your quicksand of desperation.

You moaned about it to one of your teacher friends and fellow wedding invitee that Monday at the break room. You’d all met when your cousin still used to work at the school.

“I’m really sorry y/n. I’d come with you but I’m bringing my husband along”, she cooed apologetically, rubbing your loneliness even harder all over your face. “Why don’t you ask someone from here?”

“No one’s available this weekend”, you sighed out, pointing at the people in the room one by one. “She has a kid, he has vacation leave, her dog is sick, his wife would say no and -“

“I’m free.”

Your finger wavered awkwardly, pointing at the person whose name didn’t even have the chance to leave your lips. Doyoung didn’t move his head in your direction, even though he was addressing you, his hand still robotically grading a student’s test with a red ballpoint pen.

A sharp pain numbed your side as your friend nudged you excitedly, her face stretching out in a suggestive smile.

“See? Mr. Kim will take you! It’s about time you two get to know each other better”

“Oh no you don’t have to!”, you reassured him with a voice two octaves higher in pitch, “I’m sure I’ll find someone -“

“It’s fine”, he interrupted, removing his glasses and finally looking at you. This was one of the very few times his eyes fell on you, and you know this because the same chills run through your spine every time they do, “Think of it as returning the favor for that one week you substituted me when I was sick.”

Now that sounds more like him, calling it even. Not wanting to be indebted to someone he dislikes made sense to you, but spending an entire weekend with them to do so is still a bit much. You opened your mouth to argue back some more, when your friend managed to speak up before you did.

“Great, it’s decided then! As always, Mr. Kim is the man to step up when someone is in need”, she sang and Doyoung flashed his gummy smile at her, the sight so foreign to you that you had to blink twice to make sure you weren’t hallucinating from a caffeine overdose.

The bell rang and with it he got up on his feet, collecting the rest of the papers to be graded and making his way over to your desk. He looked like an Italian supermodel with his expensive slacks and poise in his walk, and when he gave you a small piece of paper with his number written in bright red ink on it, your friend almost passed out in sheer thrill.

“Text me the details, I’ll come to pick you up after work on Friday”

And that he did, carrying your overfilled suitcase with impressive ease all the way to the airport. The ride there was just as awkward as you imagined it to be, with the two of you switching the other’s desired radio station back and forth. It was insufferable just how stubborn he could be, and with every minute of silence you got from him the more it became clear to you that bringing him along was a terrible idea. The plane ride was just as boring. Even his socks annoyed you, grey and lifeless and something your grandpa would wear. Come to think of it, your grandpa would have made a more entertaining plus one than Mr. Downyoung.

Defeatedly, you take the room key from the receptionist and call for Doyoung to follow you to the fourth floor. He refuses to let you carry your luggage to the elevator, making the rest of the hotel staff coo at what they probably thought was a couple starting their summer vacation.

As soon as the mechanical door slides closed you sigh in frustration, rubbing your temples to alleviate some of the tension in your body. You wish you could just travel through time, fast forward the whole three painful days to come until you’re lying comfortably on your bed again.

“It’s impressive, really”, Doyoung deadpans just as you thought you might’ve actually forgotten what his voice sounds like, “You’re a math teacher and you can’t do the simple task of booking the right room.”

“I told you”, you groan, exasperated, “I asked them for twin beds.”

“Well did you call to check again yesterday?”

“No? Why would I bother the couple for something so trivial?”

“Trivial”, he repeats lowly as he stares at the floor buttons glow one by one, the elevator music taunting him. “I’ll sleep on the couch”, he states after a second of silence and follows you down the hallway.

The room was really nice, you admit, decorated modernly and with a beautiful sea view from the big balcony. But there was no couch. Only a luggage rack and an armchair, both too small and uncomfortable for either of you to sleep on. The bed on the other hand was long, perfect for Doyoung’s height but not particularly wide, forcing the accommodated couples to get closer for a couple of nights. You groan at the uncomfortable realization, and slowly start to unpack.

“The wedding rehearsal starts in half an hour”, you remind him as you unzip your suitcase, flipping it open, “we should start getting ready”. He lets out a hum of acknowledgment, and hangs a nicely tailored cobalt blue suit in the available closet space before he grabs another outfit and locks himself in the bathroom. You take this as a chance to quickly change in the bedroom, opting for a light dress that fits the hot climate of the island. You were freshening up your makeup when you hear the lock click open, and then your jaw drops.

You’ve never seen Doyoung look like this in your one year working with him. He’s wearing a patterned shirt, the coral reds of the flowers on it bringing out his porcelain skin beautifully. It is slightly unbuttoned at the top, letting sharp collarbones and a couple of stray hairs peek out, and your imagination takes liberty in heading even more south. You just can’t believe Mr. Kim hid such thighs in those grandpa slacks, a comfortable pair of shorts melting over them now instead.

“What is it?”

His voice jolts you out of your dream zone and your face burns from getting caught. His calculating eyes stare back at you, and your mini dress suddenly makes you feel naked.

“Nothing, you just look- different.”

“Bad different?”

“No no!”, you exclaim, pulling up some more fabric over your decolletage. “I’m just so used to seeing you in those boring black and grey sweaters”

“Ouch. You’re not runway ready either”

“Ugh- You look good!”, you blurt out frustratingly and then yelp, cringing at your slip up. “I just wanted to give you a compliment, damn. Can we go to the main hall now?”

Doyoung thanks you under his breath, muttering something about the color of your dress and reminding you to take the room card with you before you head out.

The wedding hall was absolutely beautiful. Tulle decorations welcomed the guests right off the gate, evening light shone beautifully through the windows. People were bundled together in small social circles, and the foreign faces made you stick even closer to Doyoung’s side. You notice that he’s wearing one of those sweet-smelling body sprays, and the scent is so surprising for him that it excites you.

A female shriek makes you fall with your ass back to reality, and you’re suddenly engulfed in a tight embrace. When you realize it’s your cousin, in a white simple dress that resembles a wedding gown, you relax into her arms, glad to have actually made it.

“Oh my God, I’m so happy you’re here!”, she exclaims in genuine joy, and before you manage to take a breath she already moves onto her next victim.

Doyoung freezes in the hug, not used to your cousin’s affectionate nature and trying his hardest to at least pat her back in the confinement.

“And you brought your boyfriend with you! Oh, he’s so handsome! Are you guys thinking about taking the big step? Y/n, you better squeeze your way forward during the bouquet toss-“

“He’s my friend!”, you interrupt her, your heart pounding from the series of inappropriate questions. Doyoung snickers at the word ‘friend’ but you ignore him, focusing solely on your cousin once again. “He’s my coworker, actually. Doyoung’s a Physics teacher.”

“Ohh, I see. You say physics but I see a lot of chemistry between you two~”, she lilts suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows in the process. “Wait- is that Mr. Kim? The new, hot, young teacher that you told me all about?”

Fuck, you forgot about that. A couple of months after your cousin moved schools she’d suggested you go out for a drink or two to catch up. Things were still new with Doyoung and your first impressions were quite good, especially considering his looks. You may have gotten a little drunk that night and spilled way more than you should’ve.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“The Physics teacher, yes! My replacement! You said how he’s all serious and proper and probably nasty in be-“

“Y/n! Mr. Kim!”

The sound of your coworker’s voice sounds like honey to your ears as it interrupts the embarrassing conversation, and you use up the extra time it takes for her and her husband to greet the bride to cool yourself down. You still haven’t checked up on Doyoung, you don’t dare to look at him, and you can only hope he somehow didn’t finish the rest of that sentence in his head.

“I was just chatting up with my cousin’s plus one over here, so tell me- is it true that they came as friends? I don’t buy it.”

“If anything there’s always a lovers’ quarrel between the two.”

“I work better in more organized environments”, Doyoung butts in. You can’t keep yourself from rolling your eyes.

“And I work better with people who actually take the time to talk to me. You know, the bare minimum.”

“Oh come on y/n”, your coworker nags as she stands between the two of you, looping each hand through one of your elbows, “didn’t you say the other day that he was frustratingly fuckable?”

“You must’ve misheard me”, you murmur from her left side, “I probably said he is irresistibly punchable.”

“And you, Mr. Kim. Don’t pretend like you didn’t ask me if y/n was single on your first week at the school.”

Your head snaps at the speed of light, eyes studying the man who hardly wobbles on his two feet under the weight of the accusation. Why on earth would he ask if you were single? Why would someone who barely handles being in the same room as you even care about that? The signals were mixed, swirling with each other inside your head and you have to order your heart to stop beating so loudly before someone hears.

“Leave the kids alone”, the husband sighs, just a little more exhausted from the conversation than you, “don’t mingle in their personal business”

“We’re just happy they’re spending some quality time together”, your cousin says, and you wonder which part of the silent airplane trip or elevator argument would even qualify as that, “How about you all take your designated seats now?”

You shuffle with Doyoung through the row of wooden chairs, searching for your names in the printed papers that lay over each of them. You don’t comment on the previous conversation, at least not until you’re seated, not sure which one of you will be more flustered at the mention of what was said.

“So we’re friends, huh?”

“You’re the one who offered to come with me to this damn wedding. Don’t act as if I dragged you here.”

“I just saw someone needing my help and I-“

“I’m not your damsel in distress.”

Your icy tone makes him flinch and he loosens one more button of his shirt, in need of more air. The exposure of his skin makes the atmosphere feel stuffy, and it’s easier to blame it on the humid climate of the island than the indisputable sexual attraction you have towards him. Why did his thighs have to look so damn good in the middle of an argument?

He’s about to say something back when the bride-to-be slowly starts walking down the aisle. Everyone is in their casual clothing, someone’s unruly child cries in the background. The wedding planners are running around in pure anxiety to get everything right, yet the sight is still undeniably beautiful. You notice your aunt tearing up in the background, and you cannot blame her. Your cousin is absolutely glowing even in her simple slip dress, smile beaming as she locks eyes with her fiancé. There’s a clear moment of realization in their eyes, like the fact that they’re about to start a new chapter in their life finally kicked in.

You steal a quick glance at Doyoung, curious of his reaction. He’s probably thinking of how little they’ll last. How marriage is a stupid little social construct. How no woman could ever be a match for a great brain like-

“Doyoung, are you crying?”

Your date jumps at the sudden interrogating question, quickly rubbing the wet corners of his eyes with the thin fabric covering his shoulders.

“It’s a beautiful moment”, he sniffles, and clears his throat after his voice cracks a little. You still stare at him incredulously. “What? Are you that shocked that I have a heart?”

“Kinda.”

The morning light kisses your eyelashes through the window, forcing them to part. The first sound that your ears pick up is that of running water, nicely mixed with the birds’ song coming through the window. Checking your phone, you realize you overslept, with the wedding being only a couple of hours away. You’re lying right in the middle of the double bed, your roommate already awake and taking a morning shower, apparently.

Last night’s events flash before your eyes like a film strip. Remnants of embarrassment from having to ask for three extra pillows from the reception desk warm up your cheeks. Then the both of you, two fully grown adults, went up to your room to line them up in one straight pillowy border that separated the double bed evenly. Your blood boils at the memory of Doyoung telling you, a math teacher, that you weren’t dividing the mattress into two even halves. “I wish I could split you into two even halves”, was the last thing you remember murmuring before falling asleep. Curious, you look around for the missing pillows, noticing they’re scattered on the floor, and that is when the bathroom doorknob turns.

The first thing you notice is Doyoung’s naked torso, toned abs and tiny waist triggering your eyes to close. You feel him move towards the center of the room, and when he turns around to look for something in the closet you squint your right eye open to steal a peek. His hair is damp, waterdrops falling from the edge of his locks and dancing over his shoulder blades. You follow one as it travels down from his broad shoulders to the deep line of his spine, landing on the towel that hangs lowly from his hipbones. He bends over then, showing off a nice outline of his ass, and you are so invested in the view that you barely manage to go back to feigning to being asleep when he walks towards you.

You feel the bed dip next to you, and a little droplet of water falls on your cheek. His chuckle almost startles you as you fake deep, steady breaths.

“You know, I never pictured you to be a cuddler.”

Pretending not to hear him, you keep your eyes shut tight, yet you can’t stop the blood from accumulating on your face.

“As soon as you fell asleep you threw all the pillows to the floor and grabbed on my waist like a koala. It was cute.”

Cute.

The urge to scream and hide and ask about the details of your embarrassing actions was overwhelming. You can feel his hot breath as he examines your face closer, begging your racing heart to calm down when he chuckles again. A small yelp leaves your lips when you feel a towel thrown at your body, convinced that it is the same one you wished would magically slip off of Doyoung’s hips a minute ago. Opening your eyes, you see his lower body covered still, and yours veiled with a clean hotel robe.

“Stop playing dead, you’re a terrible actress. You should go get a shower now if you don’t want us to miss the wedding.”

You swirl the champagne around in your glass, staring at the bubbles that float to the top until they burst one by one.

The ceremony went as smoothly as the rehearsal, with the sky staying bright and the bride looking brighter. Nighttime came already, and everyone had now settled down for the reception, gathering around their designated tables. Your eyes wander away from your drink for a while, focusing on Doyoung’s lithe fingers instead. They toy with a small baby’s breath from the bundle of flowers you caught earlier during the bouquet toss: your cousin couldn’t have aimed at the top of your head better even if she was a javelin throw champion.

The mere sound of his breathing next to you annoys you at this point. By the end of the night, there wasn’t a single guest at this damn wedding that didn’t gush over your date. Why the hell did he act so completely different when he was around you? What kind of sick satisfaction did he get for being an ass?

“Are you ready to address your little problem?”

You feel the little hairs on the nape of your neck rise up as his low voice grazes your ears.

“What problem?”

“Your little staring problem. Staring at me to be exact.”

Instantaneously, you rip your gaze away from his hands, glaring at the glass in front of you instead as if it was the most interesting thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t try to catch me naked this morning.”

“Excuse me?”, you shriek before lowering your voice after collecting a few worried stares from the people at your table, “I didn’t ‘try to catch’ you. You got out of that bathroom barely naked on your own!”

“Oh?”, he feigns surprise, his lips forming into a smirk that you weren’t sure whether you wanted to kiss or punch off his face, “I thought you were asleep?”

“I was trying to save us both from the embarrassment”, you mutter under your breath, placing the back of your palms on your cheeks to force your face to cool down.

“In my defense, I didn’t know you’d wake up anytime soon. You were snoring really loudly.”

“So while I was sleeping I snored, threw the pillows off the bed, and cuddled you”, you groan, exasperated. A numb headache was moving slowly but steadily from the inside of your brain outwards, and you try to shut it out by pouring yourself another glass of champagne. “Great. Anything else?”

“Stop drinking so much”, Doyoung scolds you, grabbing the bottle out of your grasp just as you manage to fill your glass to the rim.

“Doyoung. I had at least ten people today ask me when I’m getting married when I don’t even have a boyfriend, and now I’m stuck in this lame wedding reception with a person who hates my guts. I am going to drink. Now if you pulled that stick out of your ass and had a glass yourself maybe we’d even manage to have some fun instead of subjecting me to that nonstop nagging of yours.”

“You tried to kiss me.”

“What?”

“Last night, in your sleep. You tried to kiss me.”

Frustrated with the situation you found yourself in and completely embarrassed, you have no other choice but to take a brave sip of the champagne you just served, emptying half a glass.

“Guess I’m doing charity while sleeping. If you’d experienced the loving touch of a woman maybe you wouldn’t be such a dick.”

“When your friend said that you were wild in bed I didn’t think that practically attacking me in my sleep was what she meant.”, he fired back, ignoring your insult.

“Did she tell you that before or after you asked her if I was single?”

“Like I would ever sleep with you. You’re insufferable.”

“Please. You’d probably cry after I was done.”

Doyoung scoffs and grabs the champagne bottle again, this time filling a glass for himself. He downs the drink in one go, and the burning in his throat fires a new passion inside him.

“Fine. You want us to have fun? Let’s play a game then.”

“A game?”

“Yes”, he replies, determined, and fills both of your glasses again. “We’ll ask each other questions. It can be anything, but we’ll answer genuinely. If you don’t want to answer, you drink. Got it?”

“Fine, but I’ll go first.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you offer to come with me to this wedding? And I want a real answer.”

“Do you really think I hate you so much?”

“You can’t answer my question with a question!”

“Technically, it’s a clarification. Doesn’t count.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying”, you groan, wondering if it’d be against the rules to drink even if you don’t lose a round, “You barely talk to me at the school, you avoid me and argue with me on practically anything. So I’d say yes: I do think you really hate me that much.”

He sighs and withers in his seat a little, looking regretful.

“I don’t hate you. I think you’re a good friend. And a brilliant teacher. And you can be fun when you want to be. That’s why I came with you to the wedding.”

“You still haven’t stopped arguing with me since we came here though.”

Doyoung shrugs.

“It’s hot when you talk back.”

He doesn’t look at you, his hands and eyes occupied on the baby’s breath from earlier to ease his nerves. Just as you open your mouth to say something, he asks you a question.

“Why didn’t you say anything after I came out of the bathroom this morning? You know, to let me know you were awake? I truly thought you’d be sleeping. I mean, you yell at me for way less.”

For a passing moment, you consider drinking and opting out from giving an answer. Your hand twitches and almost reaches out to the champagne in front of you, yet eventually, you decide against it. The questions will probably get gradually harder anyways.

“At first I saw all the pillows on the floor. I was sprawled out in the middle of the bed, the door opened and I panicked. And then…”

You hesitate to continue further.

“We said truthfully, remember?”

You exhale a deep breath out.

“Then I saw how you looked fresh out of the shower.”

“And?”

“And I wanted to look at you a little more.”

Doyoung hums, the corner of his lips tugging up subtly.

“If you don’t actually hate me, why do you avoid me at work? And don’t you dare deny it.”

The man next to you laughs, dropping his head back and letting his black locks hang freely. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol that’s heightened your senses, but you submerge yourself in the silvery sound of his laughter. You stare at the pretty blue veins on the side of his neck, watching his adam’s apple bob up and down. When he smiles like that he looks nice, you think. Mellow.

“I take my work very seriously. I want to do things well. And when you’re around, I can’t do that. You distract me, I guess.”

“I distract you? How?”

Doyoung’s eyes rake at your body twice, suddenly making you overconscious of every inch of skin that the mini dress you chose to wear tonight manages to cover up. Or rather, the parts of your body that it doesn’t.

He doesn’t answer further, drinking instead. You can see his eyes getting glossy from the alcohol, his pupils dilated. You’re certain you look like that as well.

“My turn. At the rehearsal, you were shocked that I teared up. Do you not believe in marriage?”

“I don’t know about marriage”, you admit after pondering for a bit, “But I do believe in lifelong partners. Do you?”

“I want one”, he confesses, “But I don’t know if I’m meant to have one.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know”, he sighs almost defeatedly, a bitter smile on his face, “I’m scared of that level of happiness, I think. I tend to avoid love.”

You both take a drink out of your glasses, feeling like it’s needed after a conversation like this. As you wait for Doyoung to come up with another question, you gaze at your cousin and her husband slow dancing in the distance. The sight triggers a stinging feeling of longing inside you, pulling on your heartstrings.

“Did you really say I was ‘irresistibly fuckable’?”

You blink three times at the unexpected question, cursing your friend under your breath and her big mouth. The kick that the champagne gave you allows you to answer way more bravely than you normally would.

“I think we’ve made it clear by now that we both found the other attractive when we first met.”

“When we first met? Not anymore?”

“This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had in the one year we’ve worked together. I don’t think you're smooth enough to convince me to sleep with you. Besides, didn’t you say you’d never sleep with me like, ten minutes ago?”

“That was different. Now I have something to prove.”

“Which is?”

“That you still find me attractive enough to sleep with me.”

“Please”, you scoff, “don’t flatter yourself. In fact, I bet you can’t turn me on even if you tried.”

“Oh really?”

“Yup. You can try. Right now.”

Doyoung goes silent in thought for a couple of seconds, looking more determined than ever when he speaks again.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes”, you answer immediately, gulping dryly at the thought of your coworker’s hands on you.

“Okay.”

The first thing he does is grab the apron of your chair, dragging you closer to him. Worried, you look around you for the reaction of the people also sitting at your table. No one seems to really pay attention to you; some of them had already withdrawn back to their rooms, the rest focusing on the people grooving on the dancefloor. The cool night breeze grazes your bare arms, making you shiver.

“Relax”, Doyoung tells you softly while taking off his jacket. You watch entranced at his shirt hugging his chest, the white fabric stretching over his biceps. His fingertips pet your nape then, sweeping your hair to the side before throwing his jacket over your shoulders. The heat emitted from his body warms up your side, making you melt in your seat.

And then he places his left hand on your knee under the table. Closing the small distance between you, he lets his lips touch lightly the shell of your ear.

“Tell me when to stop.”

He starts off relatively gently, drawing circles on your bare skin with his thumb. You look at how short the skirt of your dress is, regretting your decision to leave your thighs exposed like that. You’re making his job so much easier.

“You like that?”, he asks you then, the rasp of his voice sending another shiver down your spine.

“It’s indifferent to me”, you lie, making him laugh.

“God, why are you so tense? To quote you, if you pulled that stick out of your ass maybe we’d even manage to have some fun.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“You’re into anal baby?”

“I-”

Doyoung laughs again, his gummy smile contagious. His naughty kind of humor surprises you, and the nickname sends a wave of warmth to your face. A small moan leaves your lips as he drags his nails lightly against your skin.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“I want to make you feel good.”

His fingers move up higher, to the fleshier part of your thighs. He keeps drawing the same design over your sensitive skin, and you soon realize that it’s actually his name.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“W-What?”

“I didn’t think anything could top that summer dress you put on yesterday. But then you wore this-”

He points vaguely at your black strapless dress, eyes dark as they take you in.

“You like it?”, you ask boldly, not easily intimidated.

“I’d rip it off of you in a heartbeat if you let me.”

You squirm in your seat at his words, feeling wetness pool between your thighs. Desperate, you cross your legs to discreetly rub your thighs together, hiding your arousal from the sharp observer next to you. Doyoung doesn’t let you off the hook, kissing his teeth disapprovingly at your movement.

“Did I give you permission to do that?”

“You’re not the boss of me, Kim Doyoung.”

You’re almost panting under the pressure of his stare, feline eyes commanding you to do as he says. His hands squeeze the meat of your thighs in a warning, making the rings he wears dig deeper into your skin.

“I won’t ask again. Spread those little thighs for me.”

Feeling small, you uncross your legs back to their previous position, parting them slightly.

“Good girl.”

All your thoughts evaporate in an instant when you hear him praise you. As his fingers move to the highest part of your inner thighs, just a few inches away from the place that aches to have him most, you can only hope he mercies you. You barely make the conscious effort of biting your tongue to not make a sound and attract unwanted attention. The tablecloth can only hide so much.

“So, are you ready to address your little problem?”

“My staring problem?”

“I was talking about the one between your legs this time. You’re soaking.”

A needy sound from the back of your throat reaches Doyoung’s ears, breathy and desperate - exactly like he wanted to have you.

“You sure moan a lot at my ‘indifferent’ touches.”

His fingers still pet your inner thighs, reaching the crease of your hips now. You can feel his digits spreading your wetness around, fully dipped under your dress.

“All this mess for me? How cute.”

You’re on the verge of losing your mind, right in front of all these people, especially when his index hovers right over your-

“Enough!”, you squeal before he gets the chance to gain full control of you, admitting defeat. Doyoung retracts his hand slowly, almost disappointedly, with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

When you see him lift his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean, you can only finish your glass of champagne to cope.

You were two of the last people to leave that ceremony, your little game keeping you occupied. The small path to your hotel room was void of any people, with only the sound of your heels interrupting the lulling sounds of the night. You almost trip in your step and you blame it on the wet poolside tiles, yet you know that that’s not the reason. Doyoung’s suit jacket is still hanging comfortably from your shoulders, his scent coiling around your body and making your head buzz even harder.

In a moment of forgetfulness, you get an intrusive thought asking you where you’d kept your room key. Halting abruptly, you start looking through the contents of the tiny bag you dragged along in panic, Doyoung staring at you questioningly.

“I can’t find the room key.”

“You asked me to hold it, remember?”, he reminds you calmly, fishing the keycard from his slacks before putting it back in his pocket.

You sigh, exhausted. “You’re right, sorry”

“You seem distracted”, Doyoung observes, “Is it because you lost the bet?”

The clacking of your heels stops again.

“What? I didn’t lose!”

“You let me touch you, I did. You liked it and asked me to stop because you couldn’t handle it. I think this qualifies as a win.”

“I couldn’t handle what?”

“It felt too good'', he shrugs.

“Right”, you spit sarcastically, knowing damn well he’s right but still arguing with him like it’s a reflex. “I was worried I was gonna cum from you rubbing my knee so hard. Oh Doyoung, don’t tell me that’s where you think the clit is.”

The man addressed kisses his teeth, trying to ignore how good you look in his jacket and how the ripples of the pool water illuminate your face. You’re overwhelmed by the animalistic instinct to keep the argument going, wishing it turns into something else. The champagne made you both a little too bold.

“Like you could do any better.”

“I absolutely could.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d have you begging for it.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Before any logic manages to make its way to the decision-making part of your brain, you shove Doyoung to the nearest wall, pushing your body against his. He smells even nicer in this proximity, the scent of his aftershave added to the things that mess up your thinking, yet you don’t let that distract you from your goal. Taking his larger hands in yours, you guide them across your waist to your lower back, right over your ass.

“You talk a big talk for someone who admitted to wanting to rip my dress off of me tonight.”

The man swallows dryly, eyes staring down at your exposed chest. You see his eyes open wide for a second before diverting his attention to the pool in the back, anything to take his focus off of you. The hardness that is poking your thigh is telling enough. You grab his chin, making him look at you again.

“You’re making this very hard for yourself by pretending like you don’t want me, Kim.” Determined, you start a line of kisses across his jawline, sucking lightly on the skin below his earlobe. The moan he lets out makes your knees shake a little. “Say you want me, and I’m yours.”

Unable to contain himself, Doyoung lowers his hands enough to grab your ass. You mewl in his ear at his roughness, just to taunt him.

“Shit, y/n.”

“I’m not wearing any underwear, thought you’d like to know.”

You can’t look at his pretty face, yours still buried in his neck, but you can clearly sense the torment he feels.

Finally, he gives up.

“Fuck this”, he mutters, pulling you into a kiss.

Doyoung moves his lips against yours deeply, with need, like he knows he’s never gonna get enough. You kiss him back just as eagerly, letting your tongue slide against his. The kiss feels perfect, as if his lips were only meant to be pressed against yours. Your whole body buzzes in the desire to make up for lost time.

“I want to taste you again”, he whispers into the kiss. “We can go back to hating each other in the morning.”

Doyoung slips from your hold then, falling down onto his knees. His hands move upwards from your calves towards your thighs, pushing up the fabric of your mini dress until you’re exposed enough for him. He leaves a bite on the soft skin of your inner thighs, on the place that he pet so diligently under the table earlier tonight.

“You look good like this.”

Confused, he pinches the collar of his dress shirt, tugging it a little.

“In this shirt?”

“On your knees.”

He chuckles, putting his mouth on your pussy finally. His lips are plush and soft, his small exhales make you shiver. You look around for any unwanted viewers yet your mind goes blank once Doyoung starts to move his tongue. Every lick feels like heaven, circling around your opening and entering you with his tongue. Biting your lip to stay as quiet as you can, you lift your right knee and rest it on his shoulder, grinding against his face.

“That’s it, use me.”, he sighs against your sensitive skin, making you want to scream at the sensation. His hands find their way over your ass again, grabbing you gluttonously. The mess of slick and spit helps your movement, his nose bumping against your clit with every circle of your hips. You’re already on edge from his teasing earlier, and when he starts to suck at the sensitive nub, you just can’t take it anymore.

You come embarrassingly fast, whole body tingling as he continues to flick his tongue against your clit during your high.

“I…”, is all you manage to whimper, but Doyoung doesn’t need anything else from you. The sight of you falling apart against his face is more than enough, patiently waiting for your legs to stop shaking and cleaning up the mess between your thighs in the meantime.

With a satisfied grin and a half-soaked up face, he gets on his feet again, holding you by the waist so that you don’t collapse. You’re still drunk by the orgasm and a bit disoriented, yet you still manage to slip your hands between your bodies, finding the outline of his cock. You start to massage his member over his clothes and Doyoung hisses, buckling his hips against your palm. The fabric under your fingertips starts to get wetter by the minute.

“I want you in my mouth”, you confess, dragging the zipper of his pants down and freeing his dick. He feels hot and hard and so fucking big in your palm that your mouth waters, precum already dribbling from his tip.

He stops your lazy strokes with a hand on your wrist before he kisses you again, and you can clearly taste yourself on his swollen lips. Not one to easily give up, you guide the tip of his cock between your wet folds, languidly dragging it back and forth until he groans in your mouth.

“Not here. Let’s go to our room.”

You nod, almost too desperately, letting him lead you forwards as you separate your back with the wall. It could be the champagne’s fault for your disorientation but it feels like you’re moving the wrong way, yet you don’t want to part your lips from his so you trust him blindly. The last thing you remember was floating on air.

Before you feel your body submerging in the pool water, that is.

You spend a few moments in panic before you realize you’re underwater, Doyoung quickly pulling you to the surface. You’re both panting when you finally manage to breathe again, and you curse at him when he flicks his wet hair out of his forehead, the droplets blinding you.

Your small designer bag floats just a couple of meters away from you, everything inside it ruined but you’re too tipsy to care about it now. All it takes is a glance at Doyoung’s flushed face for a nervous laugh to bubble up from your stomach, contagious as it makes him laugh as well. This is the lightest you’ve felt in a long time.

He swims closer to you, and you instinctively wrap your hands around him, locking your legs around his waist. He looks so handsome in the fluorescent lighting of the pool, his wet skin reminding you how good he looked this morning when he came out of the shower. You appreciate the little droplets decorating his eyelashes, fluttering as he blinks, staring at you. He looks at you so deeply that you’re scared he’s gonna see right through you, past the layers of skin and bones, and discover something that you’re not ready to admit just yet.

“What is it?”

“Even now, you look beautiful.”

You’re taken aback by his compliment, your face getting hot. In the ambiance of the night, you fail to remember what it was about Doyoung that you disliked so much. He lifts his thumbs to your undereyes, gently rubbing the running mascara off your face. You lean closer, giving him a peck at first, your hands smoothing down on his chest before kissing him again. And again. And again.

Soon, your back hits the wall of the pool, your body trapped between the hard surface and Doyoungs warm body. He sweeps his tongue across your lower lips, asking to enter your mouth again and you gladly let him. You’re shamelessly making out again, in the water now, and you feel his right hand slide from your face to your neck, grabbing at your throat.

He breaks the kiss, taking the time to admire how good you look deprived of oxygen. Your eyes are unfocused, mouth gaping open and lipstick smudged, tongue hanging out slightly. You look fucked out and it turns him on, cock painfully hard under your bare pussy.

“But you look more beautiful with my hands around your throat.

A thumb rubs your cheek before moving down to press onto your lips, and you lick his finger tentatively before sucking it inside your mouth. Your wet tongue moves around the digit slowly, making sure you show him just how talented you are before you let him go with a loud ‘pop’. God, he regrets not taking up your offer earlier.

“I need you”, you mewl with the little air still in your lungs, and Doyoung lets you go to hear your voice more clearly. “I need you now.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait either”, he agrees, looking around to make sure no one’s around. He turns you around then, the front of his body pressing against your back, and you rest your elbows on the pool tiles in front of you. Doyoung hikes your dress even higher, over your hips, kissing the top of your shoulder sensually. “You’re gonna have to be quiet. Okay, doll?”

You blindly agree with his words, already grinding your ass against him. He growls at your impatience, stilling your hips, and blindly looks for your entrance. You both gasp when he bottoms out inside you.

“Fuck”, you mutter at the feeling of him filling you to your gut, the stretch starting a fire in your stomach. He reaches for your chest, letting your boobs spill out from the hem of your dress to play with. The sensation makes you shiver, whimpering when he starts to tug at your nipples. Doyoung’s fingers that you love so much intertwine with yours as he starts to push his hips forward faster.

The pace is barely manageable, and when you push against him he finds that spot that has you seeing stars. If you were bad at being quiet before you were terrible now, long moans covering the sound of the small ripples you’re both creating.

His palm startles you when it covers your mouth suddenly, your sounds successfully muffled by his chlorine-flavored fingers.

“What’s wrong, does it feel too good?”, he asks smugly, snapping his hips even faster.

Your pride crumbles as you nod, biting on his fingers as his own snake their way over your already sensitive clit. The circles he draws around it have your eyes roll to the back of your head, your body putty in his hold.

“You said you could take it, but here you are, moaning like you don’t care who finds you getting all fucked out in public.” You whimper in his hand, gasping for air when he lets you breathe again. “The only thing you’re allowed to say from now on is my name when you come. Got it?”

“Doyoung!”, you moan out when your second orgasm washes over you, hitting you so hard that you think you might pass out right then and there. Your walls clench around his length, triggering his own orgasm, and he quickly pulls out of you before cumming in the water. His arm is still protectively wrapped around you as he thrusts his cock over your ass, riding it out.

You swim in complete silence for a while, catching your breaths. Doyoung helps you pull down your dress, picking up the floating bag for you as well. His jacket had survived the fall, dropping from your shoulders right before you took your involuntary dive, and he gets out of the pool to retrieve it as well.

“Are you okay?”, he asks you softly, helping you get out as well.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

It only took a couple of steps for you to realize that soaked heels on a wet tile floor are probably a bad idea. You stepped carefully, trying your hardest to keep your balance but still looking like a deer learning how to walk for the first time.

You stare in confusion when Doyoung crouches in front of you with his back facing you.

“Hop on. It’s too dangerous for you to walk like this.”

“But I-”

“The reception is not that far. Come on.”

Reluctantly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, jumping a little for him to hold the back of your knees. The alcohol moves in your belly, making you dizzy, and you rest your forehead against the top of his head to ground yourself. You can smell the hotel’s shampoo he used this morning, and if you weren’t as embarrassed to have him carrying you you’re certain the scent alone could relax you enough to be put to sleep. You’re only hoping that he can’t feel your beating heart thumping against his back.

Doyoung doesn’t put you down even when you reach the elevator, the receptionists gossiping about you yet he doesn’t seem to care. You tap on his shoulder shyly, wanting to tell him you can handle it from here. Before you can even open your mouth, he repositions you higher on his back, his body language shushing you.

You wish you hadn’t caught your reflection on the elevator mirror. You’re both soaked to the bone, Doyoung’s clothes stuck on his body and his dying erection semi-visible on his thigh. His eyes are red from the alcohol and his lips pink from your lipgloss, but it’s not like you look any better. Your wet hair is messy, your makeup gone. You can’t wipe that stupid smile off your face.

He still carries you to the room, even opens the door for you.

“Here princess”, he mocks you, letting your feet touch the floor finally. You thank him quietly and move over to your suitcase, looking for your pijamas and some fresh underwear to put on. You’re not sure how to address the situation, it’s ridiculous how you can barely look at the man that just made you cum twice in the eyes. Not in a bad way, of course: he just didn’t feel like the same Doyoung that got in that flight with you yesterday, and you couldn’t stop the feeling of hope from growing enthusiastically in your stomach.

You grip the bathroom door nervously until your knuckles turn white, mustering the courage to spill out at least half of what you’re feeling. The sound of his name grabs his attention.

“What we did tonight-”

“...was a mistake.”

“Huh?”

You blink back at him twice, cursing at the tears that burn your eyes.

“It was a one time thing, right? Like I said, we’ll go back to hating each other in the morning.”

The room is dark, and you hope the dim lighting hides the obvious hurt that manifests itself on your face. You hate how a part of yourself still wants to grab him by the collar and take him in the shower with you. Beg him to love you again before that ‘morning’ comes. Kiss you so hard that he forgets whatever it is about you he despises so much that he can’t let it go. You can barely keep your voice from breaking.

“Right. I’ll take a shower and then I’ll pass out. Goodnight.”

“Good-”

You don’t let him finish, closing the door between you. He shouldn’t see you cry.

In the midst of all the laughter on such a beautiful morning like today, pressing on the power button of your phone while hoping it still works out of a miracle, you were the obvious stand out. You move your legs absentmindedly, only your feet dipped in the water, body slumped and looking miserable next to the children’s pool. You hoped that the sound of shrieking children might distract you from recalling the big rejection of last night, yet your growing headache makes you gradually regret yout decision more and more.

As you stare at a mother forcefully smear her child’s face with sunscreen, your phone still dead in your lap, your fingers toy with the buttons of your shirt. Doyoung’s shirt, actually. The same printed one he wore two days ago at the rehearsal. The need to have his smell on your body too intense for you to resist. God, you’re so pathetic.

“It looks better on you than me.”

His voice from behind you startles you, and before you can excuse yourself nicely he’s already taken a seat next to you. He looks rough, jaw stubbled from not shaving and with dark circles under his eyes. You wonder if he had a sleep as restless as yours.

“I know”, you reply and he chuckles. “I’m sorry for taking this without asking. I was planning on returning it before you woke up.”

“It’s okay”, he shrugs and you’re met with silence again, the atmosphere heavy with the memories of last night weighing you both down. You were ready to pretend taking a call from your useless phone when he speaks up again.

“Let’s play last night’s game again.”

“The question game?”

“Yeah.”

“Doyoung, I can’t handle any mimosas right now.”

“No alcohol, just questions. Just-”, he sighs, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Just talk to me.”

“Theres nothing to talk about. We did what we did, you regret it. It’s fine.”

“No it’s not fine-”

“It’s fine!”, you insist, lifting your shoulders and dropping them again disappointedly. “I can’t force you to like me back.” You can tell your words upset him, but he still decides to let you finish. “But I was kind of hoping you’d at least be my friend.”

You hear a muffled groan from your side, turning to see Doyoung rub his face with his hands.

“I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because I do like you back.”

“You- you do?”

“God, y/n, are you serious? I’ve liked you ever since I walked into the school and saw you on the teachers’ lounge for the first time. I like the stupid pins you wear in your hair. I like the little songs you make up on Monday mornings. I like your handwriting on the chalkboard. I like the way you say my name, I like how you feel around me. And now you’re sitting next to me looking all pretty in my shirt and all I can thing about is-”

You press his open mouth against your lips, muffling his words, kissing him fiercely. He’s surprised but only for a second before the heat of your body thaws his frozen state, digging his fingers in your hair as he kisses you back. His rough stubble scratches your chin but the dull pain only makes you kiss him harder, pulling your body against yours until your heart hammers loudly in your ears. Your lips part open and tongues meet, minty from the toothpaste you used that morning and you’re ready to fully succumb under his body weight, let him lay those broad shoulders on top of you fully.

“There’s children around!”, an angry father from afar yells so you push him away, embarrassed, rubbing your lips. The pure serotonin that you get when you see his gummy smile again is irreplaceable, and you both laugh in the ridiculousness of the situation. You wonder what your coworker would say if she saw the two of you like this, getting carried away by each other at such a place, and you giggle thinking of her reaction. Doyoung is the first to speak.

“In conclusion, yes, I will be your friend.”

“Is that what you do with your friends?”

“Sure”, he jokes, and you shove him a little with your elbow. “I’m always here for you if you need shoulders to cry on”

“Awww”

“...or to lay your legs on.”

“Doyoung!”, you squeal and kick some water his way, like a cat that needed to be reprimanded. He laughs heartily, lightly, patting his skin that got wet dry.

“All jokes aside”, he adds, intertwining your fingers and resting your connecting hands on his thigh, “when we get back, I want to take you out on a proper date.”

“Fine”, you agree, giving him another kiss and hoping it won’t get you kicked out, “As long as you promise that you won’t throw us fully clothed in a pool again.”

“Keep it up and I’ll throw you fully clothed in a pool right now.”