Aloha, guys!! I’m back with some super tasty Doyoung smut, requested by an anon who understands that we. need. more. Doyoung! This scenario is where you’re just casually watching a movie when…uh oh, Doyoungie is a bit touchy! Also. I DON’T KNOW WHY IT TURNED INTO A DADDY KINK SCENARIO, BUT IT DID AND I’M EMBRACING IT. Enjoy!
P.S. This gif never fails to make my panties drop, everything about him is pure perfection jciowjevi
The winter storm warning alert you had received on your phone earlier that day certainly wasn’t wrong, nor did it disappoint. The ground was already completely covered in white and the darkening sky was blocked out with puffy grey clouds that shed snowflakes the size of dinner plates. Luckily for you, you were currently snuggled underneath your favorite blanket in your cozy living room while your boyfriend prepared dinner diligently in the kitchen.
You could hear Doyoung humming softly to himself as you stood up from your blanket cacoon to see what he was close to finished. You loved watching your boyfriend in the kitchen, his broad shoulders shifting underneath his red long sleeve shirt as he carefully tasted the soup. He wasn’t surprised to find you barely hovering behind him, a smirk on his face as he held out the spoon to you, “Open wide.”
Some pink found its way to your cheeks as your took the spoon into your mouth, tasting one of Doyoung’s special recipes. You watched the way his eyes lingered on the way your lip closed around the metal spoon, perfectly pink and sinful. He slowly dragged the spoon from your lips, his own mouth quirking ever so slightly, “How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you murmured, having sensed the sudden change in Doyoung’s demeaner the moment you walked in the kitchen. Oh, how he loved playing games with you.
“You can go sit down, sweetheart,” his voice changed again, back to his usual calm and sunny self, “I’ll bring it out to you.”
“‘Kay,” you smiled to yourself, thinking while you walked to the table that Doyoung was plotting something, what though? You didn’t know. All you knew was that it would make you feel really good in the end.
If you were aware of Doyoung formulating some sort of plan a minute ago, it was suddenly gone from your mind as Doyoung set a heaping bowl of soup and rice in front of you, “Order up.”
You and Doyoung chatted like usual, with him telling you about how freezing the van was on the way to his schedule, how he almost forgot to introduce a group on one of the music shows. You laughed as he described all the events of the day, much more exciting then your stay at home. You loved seeing him get excited about, essentially, his new job as a debuted idol. He’d flourished this past year, growing and surprising you time and time again with all his new talents. He was definitely, more often than not, tired all the time, but at least he was happy. You did all you could to help, but it always felt like it wasn’t enough.
Upon finishing your dinner, you suggested you watch a movie to wind the day down. The chilly Friday was a perfect day for just that and you couldn’t help but want to snuggle with him on the couch. Doyoung agreed, but called dibs on picking the movie out. You didn’t care very much though, knowing that he had pretty similar taste to your own. The two of you had a pretty vast collection of dvds to choose from, so Doyoung took his time perusing while you went to grab more blankets from your bedroom. When you came back into the now dimly lit living room, Doyoung was settled on the couch with the remote in hand as he waited for you to sit, arm slung across the back of the couch, just begging for you to snuggle in.
You were about to flop down beside him, when he suddenly spoke up, “Baby, I had a rough day today,” he murmured, his low voice commanding. “Why don’t you sit on oppa’s lap and comfort me?”
You gulped, the tone in his voice sending a delicious shiver down your spine as you made yourself comfortable on his thighs. You wrapped an arm around him, absentmindedly playing with the soft hairs at the back of his neck as you let your head rest on top of his. He placed his remote free hand on your thigh, stroking the soft skin as his eyes trained on the movie. Doyoung knew that your thighs were very sensitive, and he loved to exploit that weakness whenever he could, no matter how innocent the setting.
You were trying your hardest to pay attention to the movie, but the way Doyoung’s fingers gently dug into your thigh made you shift in his lap. You didn’t hear him give a sharp inhale of breath, your mind trying its hardest to be absorbed in the film; anything but realizing that Doyoung’s hand was far more distracting than you cared to admit.
The movie was about a third through when you felt Doyoung move underneath you, his long fingers tightening their grip and slipping further down your inner thigh, “Doyoung?”
“You’re really pushing your limits, aren’t you? Huh, baby girl?,” he groaned, his lips grazing your neck as you squirmed to look at him.
“What are you talking about?,” you furrowed your brow, only to have your eyes widen as Doyoung dropped the remote and gripped your waist tightly. You realized the moment you felt something very familiar and hard poke at the bottom of your pajama shorts. “Oh…”
Doyoung looked as calm and collected as can be, turning you so that you sat sideways on his lap, “So what are you going to do about it? I was trying to watch the movie and you just can’t seem to sit still, can you?”
“W-what?,” you stuttered, not being able to remember the last time you saw such a predator look in Doyoung’s brown eyes. Maybe you had pushed his buttons a little, but your thighs were so ticklish you couldn’t help wiggling. It was as much his fault as it was yours, and you knew he liked it anyway.
“Come on, baby girl,” he drawled, nosing into your neck. “You know Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself. Especially when he’s annoyed.” He emphasized his point with a quick nip, making you gasp at the sudden pain.
You swallowed, eyes big and pleading, “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t realize…”
“You didn’t realize you were rubbing your little ass all up against Daddy’s dick?,” he finished, quirking an eyebrow, pulling away from your neck to look at you. You were treading dangerous waters right now, and Doyoung was doing all he could to get you to drown. You can’t even remember the last time he demanded you call him daddy, probably because he had practically fucked you into a coma. All memory of that night had faded into one collective feeling of pleasure and lust, all you remembered was that you had enjoyed yourself immensely.
Doyoung lived for when you acted compliant, bite the bullet now and you’ll get what you wanted later. You tried to look as sorry as possible, coming off more as shy and embarrassed, “Yes, Daddy, I did. I really want you, so I couldn’t help myself.” You played with the loose threads of Doyoung’s shirt, biting your lip and waiting with bated breath for his response.
Doyoung seemed to be measuring your response, sizing you up like a piece of delicious prey that had stumbled into his lap. You saw him trace the corners of his mouth with his tongue, fingers flexing where they rested on the curve of your hip. Eyes half-lidded with lust, your boyfriend smirked down at you, his thumb coming up to stroke your bottom lip, “Well then, sweetheart. That means your pretty little mouth is going to be doing some work tonight.”
You nodded eagerly, stomach churning with your bundle of pleasure, “I want to make you feel good, Daddy.” You were already sliding off his lap and kneeling on the floor rug in front of him, the carpet digging into the skin of your knees.
He looked rather pleased to see you on your knees before him, one of his hands lazily going to unbuckle his belt, but he didn’t say a word. The clinking of the metal set you on edge, wanting nothing more than for him to use the leather belt on you, sick as you were.
Doyoung slid the belt from the loops of his dark wash jeans, about to toss it when he thought of something better. He placed it on the arm of the couch as if saving an idea for later, leaning back into the plush sofa as he waited for you to finish stripping him. Your fingers clumsily scrabbled to unbutton his jeans, looking far too tight as the outline of his member pressed against the denim. Once freed, your boyfriend’s dick proudly sprang against his toned stomach, the tip swollen from your accidental teasing during the movie. You licked your lips in anticipation, watching as he let out of a sigh of relief when your hand softly grasped the base. You directed the tip into your mouth, tongue lavving against the underside of his dick.
“Oh, kitten,” he groaned, hand coming up to grasp your hair, already in control of your movements as he directed you to take him deeper into your throat. “Just like that.”
You hummed, satisfied as a cat that you were eliciting such delicious moans from him with only your mouth. You fervently bobbed your head, careful to not seem too eager as you took him as far back in your mouth as you could before you choked and released him with a wet pop of your lips. You were both panting, but Doyoung still remained composed even after you did everything in your power to shake him. He calmly reached forward and gripped your jaw strongly, forcing your mouth open as he inserted his cock once again, dissatisfied with your sudden stop.
You gasped through your mouth full, choking delightfully with lusty tears in your eyes as Doyoung face fucked you. He was panting, hips rutting roughly even as he gripped your hair in one hand, forcing you to take his dick. Doyoung’s words came out choppy from his rapid movements, “You don’t stop unless I tell you too, kitten, understand?”
Your eyes were practically rolling back into your head from the sheer animalistic nature of the whole situation, your body trembling as you managed to moan around him. Without your hands busy, you had, in your pleasure, grabbed the cushions of the sofa in an iron grip. You let one of those hands sneakily wander down to your pajama shorts, where your soaked heat practically begged to be touched. You knew Doyoung’s rules well, but you couldn’t help yourself as you got lost in the desire.
Slipping your fingers past the waistband of your panties, you’d barely brushed your clit before your mouth was suddenly empty and your wrists were being grasped in Doyoung’s much larger hands. Your vision refocused, taking in Doyoung’s annoyed face, brow furrowed in a cross expression, “I know you know the rules, baby girl. Why do you like to break them so much?”
You thought quickly, writhing in Doyoung’s grip as you leaned into him, “I’m sorry, Daddy-”
“Save it, kitten,” Doyoung cut you off, dragging you to your feet with his dick still hanging tantalizingly from his open pants and bending you over the arm of the couch. “I’m starting to think you’re only apologizing to get what you want.” He tugged your shorts and panties down your legs, tossing them carelessly behind him.
You shook your head hastily, toes curling as you craned your neck to look back to him, “No, Daddy- Ah..!” You cried out suddenly, feeling the sting of where Doyoung’s hand had smacked your ass, the skin already turning pink.
“You’re talking too much,” he simpered, reaching for the belt that was beside you, a small smile reaching his lips, but not his eyes. You felt his dick rub against your soaked core as he leaned over you, teasing and prodding, not seeming to care that you were practically dripping down your thighs.
“Open wide, kitten,” Doyoung smirked, remembering those same words being spoken earlier in the kitchen. You listened obediently, mouth wide as he buckled the belt behind your head, creating a makeshift ball gag of sorts. “That’s better,” he licked his lips. “Now, where was I? Oh, that’s right.”
You were prepared for this slap, feeling your ass jiggle under his hand as he smoothed over his now very visible handprint. You let out a small moan, enjoying this far too much. Doyoung noticed and smirked, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” To your pleasant surprise he began to stroke your dripping heat, his fingers dipping briefly inside of you, eliciting a keening moan from behind the belt in your mouth.
Another smack, another, and another close enough to your core to make your fingers dig into the arm of the couch in pleasure. Doyoung fucking loved the sounds you were making for him, your moaning muffled by his belt. You were practically dribbling from your mouth, tears pricking at your eyes as you silently begged for Doyoung to finally fuck you.
He didn’t seem in any rush too, but your body couldn’t take anymore waiting, so you pulled out your trump card. You managed to push a few more tears out, attempting to look as pathetic as possible for him. Through the belt you managed to whimper, voice weak, “D-daddy, please!…I can’t take it anymore!”
That seemed to snap Doyoung from his reverie, body coming to life as he looked down at your pitiful state. He saw the way your hair stuck to your sweaty forehead, your eyes brimming with tears that leaked from your big doe eyes as you pleaded with him, “Daddy, please fuck me!”
Doyoung cock visibly twitched, his hands coming up to unbuckle the belt from your mouth, allowing your sore jaw to relax. He silently pushed you back down into the couch, his body crawling hungrily over yours as his hands found the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head carefully. His uncharacteristic silence confusing you as his warm hands rubbed your most sensitive areas with care, lips pressing to your skin as he sucked hickeys in various places. You moaned wantonly as he allowed his thumb to press on your clit, his dark eyes meeting yours as he finally groaned, “Baby girl, I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be seeing stars.”
With that he thrust his entire length into your waiting core, slipping in oh so easily. You both groaned in relief, finally getting what you so desperately wanted. Doyoung didn’t wait for you to adjust, knowing how you liked him to fuck you up completely with no bars held. He sat up on his knees, never stopping his perfect rhythm as he pulled his shirt off, revealing his lean chest and broad shoulders. You wanted so desperately to rake your nails down his chest, taste his skin as you sunk your teeth into his shoulder, oh you wanted it so badly.
He stayed sitting up, rutting his hips into core as he smirked, “You want to touch me, don’t you?” Damn, at this point you were sure he could read your mind.
Your boyfriend came back down from his towering position, caging you in his arms again and obviously allowing you freedom to roam. Your hands scrabbled across his chest, groaning in appreciation as you finally felt his gorgeous body. Finger nails scraping angry red lines across his pecs and abs, lips coming up to meet the sensitive part of his neck. You sucked a dark purple bruise into his neck spitefully, secretly loving to mark his perfect porcelain skin in the most dirty ways possible. Doyoung enjoyed your touch too, rocking his hips into you faster than before, your mouth on his neck egging him on.
You gasped when one of his hands came down to rub licentiously on your clit, causing your breath to be sucked from your lungs and your back to bow. Your chest rubbed against Doyoung’s, the feeling of your peaked nipples against his warm bare skin almost too much for your body to handle. You were having sensory overload, unable to do anything except pant and hang on to Doyoung’s shoulders for dear life as he hammered into you relentlessly, close to your high.
Doyoung seemed close too by the way his breathing increased, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as his body rocked into yours faster than ever, his hand still working diligently on your clit to bring you closer. Your breathing picked up too, air leaving your lungs in gasps as Doyoung’s hips began to stutter, you could feel every vein in his member drag against your walls. You clenched around him, urging him to come as you tangled your fingers in his hair, whispering, “Come inside of me, Daddy! Please!…”
Hearing you whimper such a lewd request was all it took for Doyoung to finally come undone, his hot seed shooting deep inside of you. He didn’t stop thrusting his hips, voice strained as he groaned, “Oh, fuck, kitten.”
“Daddy!…,” you wailed, hips rutting up into Doyoung’s as his fingers brought you over the edge, the knots in your stomach snapped as you orgasmed around his member. Your clenching walls milked Doyoung of every last drop of cum he had ejaculated as you came, head thrown back in pure pleasure. He let you ride out your high, his hips rocking slightly into you and his fingers rubbing you until it felt like you would black out.
Finally settling down, you looked up at Doyoung shyly, gauging his emotions to see how he felt. You were happy to find a lazy smile on his face, his lips coming down to meet yours softly. Your boyfriend wrapped you into his arms, gentle with your soon to be sore body, mumbling into your shoulder, “Sorry about the belt. I-”
You cut him off with a quick kiss, fingers stroking the hair away from his forehead, “It’s fine, I liked it. Although, maybe something more comfortable next time? And maybe less leathery tasting?” You looked over at the television, realizing the movie was scrolling through the end credits, “There goes watching a movie…”
He laughed sheepishly, nuzzling into you again before he stood up and took your hand, “I’ll see what I can do about the belt, and sorry about the movie too, baby. For now though…shower with me?”
You rolled your eyes, but let him lead you off to the bathroom, stomach already churning anticipation for what could only be round two.
Miami's joyous Cubans hope for change with Castro's death
MIAMI — Wearing his “Bay of Pigs Veteran” shirt, 80-year-old Rafael Torre stood amid hundreds of Cuban-Americans celebrating the death of Fidel Castro and marveled that he remained in power for so long.
Cuban exiles such as Torre tried numerous ways to dislodge Castro after he took power in 1959, including the failed 1961 CIA-backed invasion memorialized on his shirt. Now, like many others, Torre is hopeful for Cuba’s future with the bearded revolutionary leader finally gone.
“We tried for more than 50 years but couldn’t do it. Now he’s dead, and maybe things can change,” Torre said. “It might take three or four years. Maybe the revolution will be on the streets in three or four months.”
Thousands of people took to the streets of Miami and nearby cities Saturday shortly after the early morning announcement of Castro’s death at age 90, and kept the party going all day. They banged pots with spoons, honked car horns, waved Cuban and U.S. flags in the air and whooped in jubilation on Calle Ocho — as Little Havana’s 8th Street is universally known.
Police blocked off streets leading to Cafe Versailles, the quintessential Cuban-American hotspot where strong cafecitos — sweetened espresso — were as common as a harsh word about Castro, the nemesis of so many exiles for so long. Many said they recognize his death alone doesn’t mean immediate democracy or freedom for the communist island.
“We need for the people of Cuba to have the freedom we have in the U.S., but this changes nothing. There won’t be change until the people revolt,” said Juan Cobas, 50, who came to the U.S. from Cuba at age 13.
Others saw Fidel’s death as a sign that a generation that has ruled Cuba for decades is passing from the world stage, many noting that his brother, current President Raul Castro, is 85.
“I’m feeling this is the beginning of the end,” said Alex Pineiro, 32. “Fidel was the architect of what’s going on. It’s a mix of emotions, I’m happy he’s dead, but I’m celebrating hope.”
There were no reports of violence or any arrests during the demonstrations, Miami police spokeswoman Kenia Fallat said Saturday. Miami-Dade County officials said there were no plans to activate the emergency operations centre — another sign of the more subdued reaction to Castro’s death than might have previously been expected.
“They are celebrating but in a very peaceful way,” Fallat said of the demonstrators.
The U.S. Coast Guard was running regular patrols and not increasing staffing levels or taking other emergency steps, said Petty Officer Jonathan Lally. The Coast Guard has seen a sharp uptick recently in Cubans attempting to arrive in Florida by sea, with at least 7,411 Cubans attempting to migrate over the Florida Straits in the fiscal year that ended Sept. 30 compared with 4,473 in the same timeframe last year.
After Castro took power, Cubans fled the island to Miami, Tampa, New Jersey and elsewhere. Some were loyalists of Fulgencio Batista, the president prior to Castro, while others left with the hope they would be able to return soon, after Castro was toppled. He never was.
Many other exiles believed they would never be free under Castro and his communist regime. Thousands left behind their possessions, loved ones, and hard-earned educations and businesses, travelling to the U.S. by plane, boat or raft. Many Cubans died on the ocean trip to South Florida. Some had land and possessions taken by the Castro government.
The ones that made it to Miami took a largely, and vehemently, anti-Castro stance.
“He should not be revered. He should be reviled,” said U.S. Rep. Ileana Ros-Lehtinen, a Republican who was born in Cuba.
Some people said the election of Donald Trump as president could lead to a tougher stance against the Havana government that might hasten change.
“I hope that Trump takes a hard line against the Castro regime,” said Henry Marinello, 60, who left Cuba as a child in 1961,
On New Year’s Eve every year, Cubans in Miami utter a toast in Spanish as they hoist glasses of liquor: “Next year in Cuba.” But as the Cuban exiles aged, and as Castro outlived them, and as President Barack Obama eroded the embargo and younger Cubans returned to the island, the toast rang silent in many households.
News of Castro’s death was long anticipated and had been the subject of countless rumours over the decades, so that it became something of a running joke. This time, though, it was real.
“We’re all celebrating, this is like a carnival,” said 72-year-old Jay Fernandez, who came to Miami when he was 18 in 1961 after he was jailed twice by the Cuban government. He and his wife and another woman held up a bilingual sign he’d made four years ago when Castro first became ill. “Satan, Fidel is now yours. Give him what he deserves. Don’t let him rest in peace.”
Lush reported from St. Petersburg, Florida, and Anderson from Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Associated Press writers Adrian Sainz in Memphis, Tennessee and Josh Replogle in Miami contributed to this story.
Curt Anderson, Ian Mader And Tamara Lush, The Associated Press