B - boobs or ass (are they a boob man or an ass man?) 

he’s an ass guy, the type to kiss your ass before slapping it. he just loves having handfuls of your ass to hold onto while he moves u along the length of his cock. his grip on you is always super firm, he doesn’t slap your ass a whole lot but he always squeezes it.

C - cum (anything to do with cum) 

fuma has breeder balls,,, hear me out y’all.. he loves to fill u with his cum and see how messy it gets. he always rubs your belly as well,, he just loves it sm. loves it even more when he keeps  fucking you after and it spills out and makes an even bigger mess <3

D - dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) 

he secretly likes when you’re more dominant, he thinks you’re so sexy when you demand him and boss him around. he also gets off on the thought of it because the thought of him being able to fully let go just excites him. also,,, sometimes he feels like crying when he cums but he holds it back,, but y’all ain’t hear that from me.

E - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) 

fuma is fairly experienced, he hasn’t had a lot of casual sexual partners but i feel like he’s been in 1-2 long term relationships in the past. he’s pretty experienced because of this but is always willing to learn more as he goes.

F - favorite position (what is their favorite sex position?) 

113 / 101

he likes to be on the bottom, he loves when he can see you bouncing on him. his hands would run all over your body, mostly resting firmly on your hips. he also enjoys this position because its easy for him to kiss you. he finds it so sexy how you bounce on him and also grind your hips against him, its just overall so sexy to him. another reason he loves these positions is because he's able to thrust up into you easily when you get tired and he can see the way you crumble on top of him.

G - goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) 

sometimes he full on bursts out laughing during sex like it's just something that happens from time to time but he's pretty focused and serious for the most part. he can be really silly, usually when you’re cockwarming him or when you guys are spooning and having conversation. he loves talking to you during sex so so much so its a huge possibility for him to crack little jokes.

H - hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) 

i feel like he’s pretty hairy, i think that’s more just his preference. he may trim himself up just to do a little something but other than that he likes having hair there. overall he keeps it very natural and nobody asks but he likes when you’re natural too.

I - intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

he’s usually very very intimate, especially considering how protective and possessive he is on a regular basis. he’s romantic and loves feeling your skin against his. he’s always touching you so so lovingly as well and he treats you like his little princess.

J - jack off (masturbation headcanon) 

i feel like when he jerks off he more likes to thrust into his fist instead of stroking his length, i don’t know why i feel that way but i do. he also moans while he masturbates, like he doesn’t ever wanna hold back.

K - kink (one or more of their kinks) 

spanking - whether it’s a small tap on your ass or enough for him to leave you sore he just loves this so much. like i said he’s an ass guy so if needed he’ll lay you across his lap so he can lovingly bruise your ass :( he just loves how you jolt and moan and how pretty it sounds when you’re super reactive to him.

mutual masturbation - he loves the intimacy of seeing the way you pleasure yourself. he loves to be close by and just watch as you touch yourself. he also really likes when you get each other odd, arms crossed over one another as you both try to make the other cum. this is his favorite after a really long and tiring day as well <3

L - location (favorite places to have sex) 

he's a traditional guy, he loves sex in the bedroom. he just finds it easier and more intimate to be in the comfort of your own home and in the comfort of your own bed, he just likes it a little better that way. 

M - motivation (what turns them on?) 

a lot of things about you overall turn him on but i think one thing that stands out is your innocence and obedience. when he asks you to do something and you follow him so willingly and blindly he loves that so much. like if he’s like, “hey can you do something for me.” and you eagerly agree and just are so attentive to him and so interested in what he’s gonna ask he just finds it so cute.

N - no (Something they wouldn’t do) 

he’s not the degrading type, he may tease a bit but he never wants to talk down on you. i feel like he doesn’t want to run the risk of hurting you even slightly (other than when he spanks you,, or when he squeezes ur ass), even when it comes to your feelings so i feel like he’d rather just not degrade you at all.

O - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) 

he’s very focused on your pleasure and he loves giving you head BUT,, he really really loves receiving head. he loves when he can push himself down your throat and he loves when he can see you struggle to take him a little bit. when little tears prick at your eyes he swipes his thumb on your face to wipe them away. its just something about having you be so determined to take him and allowing him to go as far down your throat as he can.

P - pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

on a regular basis i feel like fuma is slightly rougher, just with how harsh he is with his thrusts and the strength that he has behind them. it’s just what he naturally does but he can definitely be very very gentle and soft if you vocalize that you want him to be <3.

Q - quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) 

he loves them sm, loves to quickly fuck you before you guys finish getting ready. he loves to make you cum 20 minutes before you need to be at work, like he just has so much fun with it and he loves the rush and pace of the situation.

R - risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) 

like i mentioned before, he likes to learn along with you and in order to learn you kinda have to experiment. he's a huge fan of experimenting and trying new things out with you. it keeps things fun and he loves trying new fresh things so he's very willing to take risks. nothing that can harm you though! 

S - stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) 

he can go for as many rounds as you need him to go for. he doesn't run out of energy quickly, especially considering how athletic he is. he knows the amount of time he needs to properly recover between orgasms and he knows how to occupy the time accordingly by doing other things with you as well. he's pretty good for going however many times as you want. 

T - toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) 

i feel like he owns a fleshlight or one of those sleeve things with the texture on the inside if anything, he likes something to thrust into when he masturbates sometimes. i feel like he may get some toys for you, but only if you ask him to cuz he's skilled with his own hands and he's confident in his abilities. but he's definitely not opposed to toys, he just doesn't think to get them (but if u ask him to he'll find that he really enjoys bringing toys into the bedroom). 

U - unfair (how much they like to tease) 

only a little bit here and there, he loves to treat you like royalty and he loves to give you everything you could ever ask for. sometimes he’ll feel silly goofy and may tease a little bit but he gives in the moment you beg or whine.

V - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make) 

he’s not necessarily loud but he is vocal, always praising you and letting out moans and groans. he makes sure that you’re able to tell that you’re doing good and that he’s enjoying the sex. he doesn’t hold anything back and he doesn’t want you to hold anything back either <3

W - wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) 

fuma will call you and talk you through your orgasms when he’s away. he’ll just guide you and tell you how much he wishes you were there with him so he could care for you himself. especially if he knows you love his voice he’ll call you late at night to help you sleep as well. he’ll just ramble randomly, knowing it soothes you. 

X - x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants) 

he’s closer to average size when it comes to length but he’s pretty thick. he provides a nice stretch when he presses into you.

Y - yearning (yow high is their sex drive?) 

his sex drive is very in between but its likely that you’ll be needier than he is. you guys most likely have sex very regularly but not every day unless you’re that needy. he can go a little while without sex though.

Z - zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

if im so fr he’s kinda like a grandpa so he falls asleep kinda fast after. he just likes getting all cleaned up and cuddling up with you after sex, he just feels extra cozy and warm so he holds you insanely close and dozes off like that.

a/n - i honestly don't know how i feel about this but lmk what u guys think!

he feels like his bones were made to accommodate the slope of your hands along his neck and along his mountainous shoulders. you liked stirring swirls with the tips of your acrylics into his messy black hair in the morning.

the sun streams through the half-broken blinds of your apartment, blanketing san in a patterned ray of light. his gentle eyes closed sleepily, practically purring at the feel of your hands and your body warmth beneath him. you lie with your back against the headrest, pillows stuffed beneath your lower back, whilst san lounges comfortably with his head in your lap.

his big, soft hands hold your thighs together like a pillow he fears will iceberg beneath his ear. the comforter is thrown haphazardly over your bed, the fitted sheet lifting off the corners of the mattress. proof of a… busy night.

every time you all but shift beneath him, he grumbles and holds your thighs together. “move again, and i’ll lock your legs together.”

tempting, but you did not need to rile him up this early in the morning. san was much like a cat. cute, fickle. particular.

you wont sit still? he'll do something to help you to relax.

the fingers on your thighs splay wider as if to grab more of your flesh, and he turns his head and begins dusting the tops of your thighs with kisses.

“my sweet, pretty girl.” san murmurs against your skin, a teasing, pouty tone to it. this is how it starts. with buttering you up.

he moves the blanket so his broad shoulders are exposed to the gold morning light, the grey tanktop doing little to hide the proof of his hard work. he can almost feel the way your eyes laser in on his back, and he can't help but smile as his wandering hands move to slip your panties down your legs smoothly. his warm kisses never cease, sensual and promising.

your hands slip away from his hair in surprise, and he nearly throws a fit as he grumbles and grabs your wrists and brings them back to the top of his head. his hands are back on your body in no time, holding both sides of your waist as you might melt through his fingers and massaging your hips with that perfect amount of pressure.

the feeling evokes a content sight out of you, and you find your upper body stretching subconsciously.

“there we go, big stretch, babydoll. good morning to you too,” san teases you with that stomach-flipping grin, and you narrow your eyes to tease him back. he, however, drags his worked, big hands down your waist, along the curve of your hips, back down to your thighs, where he wastes no time in spreading your legs in a way that can only be described as greedily.

“i wanna say good morning to her too…” he growls very quietly under his breath, hastily pushing your thighs back and up against your stomach. “she's always so happy to see me.”

the evidence of “her excitement” is clear: strings of arousal that cling to your lips, spread nice and pretty from the way san holds your legs open. his hands travel along your outer thighs, up your sides, all the while his head lowers between your thighs, eager.

“you were excited first,” you attempt to retort, to resume some semblance of control. you knew you had none; you were so weak for him. and when his heated tongue lay flat against your cunt, and his thumbs pressed into your lower stomach, you had only been proven right.

he squeezed your body like a stress toy, the muscles in his back twitching with every register of your taste. he moaned, so prettily. his mouth moved slowly and deliberately. leisurely, open-mouth kisses. deep, wide licks and hungry swallows. anyone he could tell he was doing it 100% for you would know he was lying if they saw and heard the way san was making out with your pussy.

your head falls back against the headboard, the bones in your legs liquefying as your boyfriend eats breakfast.

“hello, beautiful,” he purrs into a suckling kiss against your clit, and you feel an overwhelming mix of emotions come over you. you grip his hair harder, and he bites his bottom lip with a grin and a laugh as he spits between your pussy lips.

shame, embarrassment, arousal that burned too bright, it ached low in your stomach. you hated it when he talked to your cunt. but the way your stomach tightened in response spoke volumes every time.

when he starts kneading your lower stomach, deep and slow like he was working knots out of you, and gently kitten licking right under your clit, you pull his hair so hard he hisses in pain.

“aww, baby, you’re making this so hard for me.” san pouts and one of his hands lightly smacks your stomach. “i'm tryna keep you clean, but you won't stop dripping all over the sheets, always so messy!”

you sniffle and moan, one of his hands falling away from your waist and slithering between your legs, gathering the stickiness he's pulled out of you all over his middle fingers.

your body twitches at the new touch, and san moans long and low around your clit as he slides his fingers knuckle deep inside you, quick to scrape against that spot, and stars were bursting at the back of your skull.

“d-oh fuck… s-san, mmm…” your words dissolved into mindless, blissful pleasure. a horny smile spreads across your lips as san pushes his fingers deeper into your cunt.

“my gorgeous, sloppy girl.” san slurs against your pussy, his eyebrows furrowing as he eats you like he was imagining it was your lips. his eyes close and his hand squeezes tighter, his thumb presses deeper. his fingers curl harder inside of you, his tongue turns merciless against your clit, and his moans drag feelings out of you that should be illegal.

for some reason, you just could not take it this morning; it all felt so intense for some unknown reason. your hips bucked against his mouth, his fingers repeatedly caught on the ridge inside of you, and your legs began to shake.

san pouts and clicks his tongue out of pity, moving his fingers in deep, wavelike strokes that made your throat feel like somebody was trying to pull it out of you through your stomach. “aww, babydoll, you’re shuddering. it feels so wrong when you cum without me kissing you.”

this is true. he loves to drink your noises when you cum, feel the warmth of your teeth as you shatter on his dick, fingers, abs… etc. he would normally abandon the meal and just finger you until you snap, but, god. he couldn't stay away from your pussy.

warm and sweet and wet. your plush thighs hugging his ears like muffs. your nails against his scalp like a reminder of how he makes you feel. he frowns, like some innocent, wronged cat whose tail you’ve stepped on. but the way his fingers curl and the way he kisses your clit tell different stories.

the hand still holding your waist, and effortlessly your body against the bed, lands another slap against your stomach, and your limbs jerk.

“c’mon, let go, sweet girl. cum. it'll feel so good if you do, and it’ll make me sooo happy,” and he really couldn’t help himself at this point. his lips suction to your clit one last time, pulling away with a wet pop, wasting no time and lifting himself and swallowing your parted lips in a heavy kiss.

his fingers fucked you faster, his thumb moving up to circle your slick clit in place of his unfair mouth. he nibbles your bottom lip with a grin and kisses you so deep with a desire to take you can’t find your breath.

“don't you wanna make me happy, babydoll?” he practically begs into your mouth, and everything inside of you screams to make your heaven of a boyfriend happy. you cum so hard you would’ve thought he was fucking you.

then again, that's how it is with san every single time, and you still haven't gotten tired of it. he just knows what to do, so assertive, so caring, such a man.

coming down from your high, your grip onto his tanktop and bury your face into his neck, huffing and puffing, whining softly as his fingers slowly circle inside of you, working it out as he whispers praises in your ear.

you breathe in the smell of his cologne from the day before, and it makes your stomach tingle. vanilla, whiskey, patchouli, something so intoxicating it's hypnotic. the sun paints his tanned skin a radiant gold, and suddenly you get overwhelmed with the urge to bite him.

you do. he complains with a return bite to your shoulder, and you moan in response. he pauses and licks the bite and smiles, squeezing your waist with anticipation.

you’ve riled him up again.

He knew that the moment you had asked him to accompany him to the mall to buy presents for your best friend’s baby shower, his dick twitching at the prospect of seeing you run your hands over baby clothes. Earlier that week he had already seen you fawn over your baby nephew, holding him close to your chest and bouncing him up and down, all wide smiles and laughter that sounded poetic to him.

Murata Fuma was a fucked man everytime he thought about having children with you, laying you down on your bed and drilling you with his cock all damn night, pumping you full of his cum and waking up the next morning to go to the gynaecologist.

“Not green enough.” He chuckled, leaning against the shelf as you scanned your eyes with laser precision through all the shades of green of baby clothes neatly folded in front of you.

“Well, can’t say I trust you, baby.” You laughed, reaching to the very back of the shelf, “If it was up to you, we’d be shopping for Pokemon baby toys.”

“Hey, gotta get them in young.” Fuma shrugged his shoulders, crossing his arms and feigning deep thought as you pulled out an olive green shirt the size of his biceps, “Perfectly green enough.”

“I know right?” You smiled at him, looking down at the cloth in your hand with shining, triumphant eyes, “God, I hope she likes this.” 

“Of course she will, darling.” Fuma stepped forward slowly, filling your senses with his cologne, “You picked it out didn't you?” His hands came up to your waist, eyes fixed on your lips as he ran a tongue over his. 

Fuma stepped closer until the shelf behind you pressed lightly against your back, the tiny green shirt still clutched in your hands. You barely had time to raise an eyebrow before he leaned in.

“Fuma—” you started. But his lips met yours first.

Warm, oh so warm and certain, like he already knew you were going to laugh about it a second later. His hand stayed at your waist, steadying you as he kissed you, gentle but lingering enough that your protest turned into a muffled giggle against his mouth.

You pushed lightly at his chest. “We’re in public,” You whispered, breathless and amused.

“And?” He pulled back just a fraction, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of his breath, “Can I not kiss my darling wife in public?” The playful look in his eyes made your resolve wobble.

You shook your head, trying to look annoyed, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. For a moment you simply looked at him and something about the closeness, the familiar comfort of it, pulled you right back.

Before you could overthink it, you leaned forward again. This time the kiss was yours, soft and unhurried, your lips brushing his as if you were testing the moment rather than stealing it. His hand tightened slightly at your waist in quiet surprise, and he leaned into it instinctively, deepening the warmth of the kiss. You tasted faintly like the honey he’d put on your pancakes earlier in the morning.

When you finally pulled away, your cheeks were warm and your heart was beating a little faster than it should have been for a quiet aisle full of baby clothes. The moment sparked a memory so vividly that it made you smile.

The first time you had ever kissed each other was on your third date, You could still see the scene in your mind—your apartment lit softly by the ikea lamps you got on sale, the city lights outside the window flickering against the glass. A half-finished glass of wine sat on the table between you while the two of you talked about everything and nothing and the newest pokemon cards.

He had been sitting beside you on the couch, turning the stem of his wine glass slowly in his fingers, pretending to be calm but clearly working up the courage to do something. You had noticed of course—call it a lover’s intuition.

And when he finally leaned in that night, the kiss had been messy as messy could be, teeth accidentally bumping into each other, you almost biting his lips off and a glass of spilled wine. 

But here you were, years later, wedding band on your finger and his wine stained shirt sitting somewhere at the back of your closet. 

How beautiful a thing love was, you thought, even after all these years, kissing him felt exactly the same.

“You wanna go checkout?” You smiled, pressing your forehead to his. Fuma laughed softly.

“Five minutes more.” 

___________________

Spring had arrived softly that year.

The air in the backyard carried the faint sweetness of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass, sunlight filtering through the branches of a large maple tree that stretched comfortably across the yard. Someone had strung delicate pastel ribbons between the branches, and they fluttered lazily whenever the breeze passed through.

Tables were arranged across the lawn with soft cream tablecloths, each one decorated with small glass jars filled with pale pink roses and sprigs of baby’s breath. A long wooden table near the patio held the gifts—colorful boxes stacked in cheerful towers. Somewhere near the fence, a group of guests laughed over plastic cups of lemonade and iced tea.

It was the kind of afternoon that felt warm without being heavy, the perfect afternoon for a baby shower.

And the perfect afternoon for Fuma to internally combust whenever he saw you.

You had chosen a soft pastel summer dress for the occasion, the color somewhere between blush pink and pale peach, the fabric light enough to move gently whenever the wind touched it. The hem reached your lower thigh, brushing lightly against your legs as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

Your hair caught the sunlight every time you turned your head, strands glowing gold for just a second before settling again. You sat beside the mother to be—your best friend—talking excitedly with animated gestures, your hands moving as laughter erupted.

Even from across the yard, Fuma could hear the brightness in your voice. He leaned casually against the wooden railing of the deck, a plastic cup of lemonade in his hand that he had completely forgotten to drink. His attention was fixed entirely on you, watching the way you smiled when your friend showed you a tiny pair of baby socks.

Something about it made his chest feel tight.

“Man.” The voice beside him cut through his thoughts. Yudai appeared at his shoulder, arms folded as he followed Fuma’s line of sight across the yard. It took him about half a second to realize exactly what his friend had been staring at.

“You look ridiculous.” Yudai snorted, looking ridiculous with a flower crown on his head.

“What?” Fuma said absentmindedly, not moving his eyes away from you.

“You,” Yudai said, pointing directly at his face, “look like a wide eyed idiot.”

That earned him a small huff of laughter from Fuma. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” Yudai continued, leaning his elbows on the railing. “You’ve been standing here staring at her for ten minutes like she’s the last person on earth.”

“That obvious?” Fuma finally looked at him. Yudai stared at him for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, it’s worse than I thought.”

Across the yard, you had crouched down beside the stroller someone had brought as a decoration display, picking up a tiny stuffed bear and holding it up with a delighted smile. Your friend said something excitedly, and the two of you dissolved into laughter.

Fuma turned his attention back to you without even realizing he had done it. The sight made something warm, like coffee steam, settle in his chest.

“Oh wow,” Yudai said slowly, noticing immediately, “How close is your heart to giving out right now?”

Fuma sighed heavily, “Extremely.” The admission slipped out more easily than he expected. Yudai tilted his head, studying him.

“You know,” He said thoughtfully, “I used to think you were exaggerating when you talked about her.”

“What do you mean?” Fuma frowned, turning his attention to his older friend now.

“I mean,” Yudai gestured toward the yard, “the way you talk about her sometimes? I figured it was just normal relationship stuff.” He paused to adjust his falling crown, “But that look on your face right now?” he added with a grin. “That’s like……the exact same expression every male lead in a romance anime makes.”

Fuma leaned back against the railing, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.” He admitted quietly.

“You’re not even going to deny it?” Yudai blinked, the only time he’d ever seen his friend like this was at an eevee convention.

“What’s the point?” Fuma said, “I didn't marry her for nothing, you know.” His gaze drifted back to you again. You were still laughing with your friend, holding the tiny stuffed bear to your chest, the sunlight catching the soft folds of your dress, making the pastel fabric glow softly.

For a moment you looked angelic.

“I just….love her so much.” Fuma exhaled slowly.

“And?” Yudai’s brow arched.

Fuma watched as you stood up again, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear while listening to someone else talk.

“She’d be such a good mom,” He murmured, almost to himself. Yudai followed his gaze again.

“You’re thinking about that already?” He said, nudging his shoulder.

“It’s been two years already.” Fuma shrugged slightly, “Is that too fast?”

Yudai studied his friend carefully, watching the way his eyes went all droopy and drunk every time his gaze landed on you. 

“You’ve got it down bad, man.” A giggle came from Yudai. 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Fuma chuckled under his breath.

For a moment they stood there in silence, the sounds of the party drifting through the yard—laughter, soft music playing from a speaker near the patio, the clinking of glasses.

“You should tell her.” Yudai nudged him with his elbow.

“Tell her what?” Fuma blinked at him.

“That.” Yudai said simply.

“What do you mean, ‘that’?” Fuma frowned.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Yudai replied. “If you’re standing here thinking about having kids with her, maybe you should actually say something.”

Fuma hesitated. The idea made his stomach twist slightly. You two hadn't had a proper conversation about kids before getting married—he knew it was an immature thing to do, but love always seemed to make time seem like an ephemeral thing, passing by like the honest wind. And he would rather die than put that burden on you.

“She might think it’s weird.” He said, gaze flickering down to the grass.

“Why?”

“It’s a baby shower.”

“Exactly, you stupid man.”

Fuma blinked at him as Yudai sighed and gestured toward the yard again, clearly done with the lack of romantic tropes in his best friend’s life. 

“You’re literally surrounded by baby decorations, gifts, and people talking about parenting. If there’s ever a moment to say something about wanting a future together, this is probably it.”

Fuma glanced back toward you. You had moved closer to the gift table now, examining the olive green baby shirt you had picked out together. The sight made him smile automatically. You looked so proud of that tiny shirt.

And suddenly, without warning, the thought appeared again. A family with you. You laughing in a backyard like this again someday, except the baby everyone was celebrating would be yours. The idea sent a strange mix of excitement and nervousness rushing through him.

“Oooh you’re thinking about it.” Yudai teased, his voice a pitch higher as he giggled at the expression on Fuma’s face, “Go tell her, already!”

Across the yard, you turned slightly, scanning the guests as if searching for someone. For a brief moment, your eyes met, your face lighting up instantly as you waved to him. Fuma felt his heart stumble in his chest as he raised his hand in return without thinking.

“She’s looking at you like you hung the moon,” Yudai said casually.

“You’re exaggerating.” Fuma laughed softly.

“I’m really not.” He nudged Fuma again. “Seriously. Go.”

Fuma looked at you one more time. You were still smiling at him, waiting for him to come over. And suddenly the world felt like the simplest thing ever—just you two in it, sitting atop clouds and drinking lemonade wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Alright,” He said, “But I’m doing it when we get home.” 

“That’s my guy.” Yudai grinned, triumphantly pushing up his crown.

Fuma pushed himself off the railing, setting his untouched drink down on the deck table. As he stepped onto the grass and began walking toward you, the sounds of the party seemed to fade slightly into the background. The only thing he could really focus on was the way your smile grew wider the closer he got.

Love was a simple thing really, or at least the definition of it was.

Every version of it always started with you.

_________________

You stepped through the front door of your home, the faint scent of baby powder and cake from the baby shower still clinging to your clothes. The afternoon had been sweet—eating cake and getting pumped with lemonade as you cooed over baby clothes with your friends. It was one of those rare moments when the world felt like something more than gray matter.

But now, exhaustion tugged at you, and you kicked off your shoes, heading straight for the bathroom. Fuma had left before you did, tugged away by a work call which he apologised at least fifteen times for before you placed your hand on his and told him gently that it was alright.

He was already home; you'd seen his car in the driveway, but the house was quiet, save for the distant hum of the refrigerator.

The hot water cascaded over your skin in the shower, washing away the day's stickiness. You lathered up with your favorite lavender soap, letting the steam fill the small space. By the time you stepped out, wrapping a towel around yourself, the sun was dipping lower outside the window.

You dried off and slipped into your lace camisole and matching panties—soft, sheer fabric that hugged your curves, the delicate patterns whispering against your skin, perfectly comfortable for a lazy evening, you thought, as you padded into the kitchen to make yourself a snack.

Chopping fruits at the counter, you absentmindedly hummed a tune, unaware of the absolute storm brewing behind you. You were completely absorbed in your task, blissfully unaware of his presence.

Fuma stood in the doorway of the kitchen, admiring you from behind. The soft glow of the setting sun cast a warm light across your silhouette, highlighting the curves of your hips. 

He stepped closer, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every detail. The way the soft lace of your camisole clung to your skin, the way the sheer fabric revealed tantalizing glimpses of what lay beneath. He felt a surge of desire, a hunger that grew with each passing moment.

It had been like this ever since the afternoon, ever since the moment you leaned into his touch when he wrapped his arm around your waist to tug you closer whilst you both ate cake. The way you had teasingly sucked on his thumb when he reached to wipe cream off of your lips sent blood rushing everywhere in his body.

His footsteps were silent until they weren't. Suddenly, his presence loomed behind you, heat radiating from his body like a furnace. 

“Oh.” You made a soft noise as the smell of soft cotton filled your senses, “Hi baby. Want some strawberries?” You held up a piece to him.

Your husband didn't answer you, his lips finding your neck instead. He began to trail soft kisses along your skin, starting at your collarbone and working his way up. Each kiss sent a shiver down your spine, your body responding to his touch instinctively.

“Alright then, more for me I guess.” You chuckled, used to being bombed with his love randomly at times like this. As he continued to explore your neck with his lips, his hands began to roam, slipping under the hem of your camisole to caress the smooth skin of your stomach. His touch was gentle at first, but as the heat between you grew, his kisses became more urgent, more demanding.

“Fuma, sweetheart, you alright?” You asked, tilting your head back. Before you could turn, his hands gripped your hips, pulling you back against him. His breath was hot against your neck, ragged and urgent. 

He nipped at your earlobe, sending another wave of pleasure through you. His hands moved higher, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples until they hardened beneath his touch.

You let out a soft moan, your head falling back against his shoulder, lost in the sensation of his touch. He took advantage of your position, his lips finding the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, and he began to suck and nibble at the skin, leaving a trail of red marks in his wake.

“You’re so beautiful.” Fuma sighed, lips brushing your ear, “Too damn beautiful." Fierce, open-mouthed pressed along the curve of your throat, teeth grazing just enough to send shivers racing down your spine.

Your body arched against him, your hips pressing back into his own. His hands continued to explore, one moving down to slip beneath the waistband of your panties, his fingers brushing against your most intimate area.

You gasped, the knife clattering to the cutting board as your hands braced against the counter. Fuma's worship was consuming; his mouth trailed lower, sucking at the sensitive spot below your jaw.

His arousal pressed hard against your ass through his jeans, unyielding and insistent. He nipped at your shoulder, pushing the strap of your top aside to expose more flesh, his tongue laving over the mark he'd made.

The intensity built like a wildfire, you tried to steady yourself, but Fuma spun you around, backing you against the kitchen wall with a thud that rattled a nearby cabinet. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with lust, as he caged you in—forearms braced on either side of your head. 

“So beautiful, darling.” He repeated, crashing his lips to yours in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, devouring you, “Looked so perfect today.” His hands roamed, one sliding up to cup your breast through the lace, thumb circling your nipple until it peaked hard and aching. He broke the kiss only to drop to his knees, his gaze locked on yours, feral and reverent.

“Fuma…” You sighed as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, glancing up once to make sure you’re alright. When you gave him a small nod, he yanked them down your thighs in one swift motion.

You had no idea just what had gotten into your husband today—he was never one to initiate sex, always waiting for your approval and arousal and following through. A gentleman, in many ways.

There was nothing gentleman-ly in the way Fuma gripped your thighs now, his strength unyielding, and hoisted your legs over his broad shoulders, god his strength turned you on so much. 

The idea that this man could you probably crush you between his arms with one gentle squeeze, and yet here he was, worshiping your pussy like it was his only diety—werent you the luckiest woman on earth? Your back pressed flat against the wall, the rough texture scraping lightly as he buried his face between your legs.

His mouth was ravenous, sweet tongue flat and broad, he licked a long stripe up your slit, savoring your taste with a guttural moan that vibrated through you. “So sweet for me, darling.” Fuma praised, words muffled as he delved deeper. 

He sucked your clit between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, relentless in his assault, as you practically rode his face. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as the pleasure coiled tight in your belly. Fuma's grip tightened, holding you open, his nose bumping your mound with each eager thrust of his tongue inside you.

He ate you like a man starved, alternating between broad laps that coated his chin with your arousal and precise circles around your swollen nub. One hand slid up your inner thigh, fingers teasing your entrance before plunging two inside, curling them against that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. It was his favourite spot, the way it made his pretty wife shake in his grasp always made his dick twitch.

“Fuma!” You cried out, hips bucking involuntarily, “Right there, right—ahh fuckkkk…” Fuma pinned you firmer, devouring every drop as your thighs trembled over his shoulders.

“Relax, baby.” He urged, “Let go for me, that’s a good girl.”

The pressure built until it snapped—your orgasm crashed over you, walls clenching around your husband’s fingers as you flooded his mouth, body arching off the wall. You cried out his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. He held you close as you rode out the waves of pleasure, his own breathing ragged as he watched you come undone in his arms.

When it was over, he pulled back slightly, looking up at you with his beautiful eyes. “Are you alright, darling?”

“That was….” You breathed, as he lowered your legs gently and rose, “What horny demon possessed you today, my dearest husband?”

“I’ve been asking the same question.” Fuma chuckled, claiming your mouth in a deep kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, “It's just….” 

Fuma stopped in his tracks as he saw the way you looked at him, wide, loving eyes that held nothing but trust in them. God he felt so stupid, he could have just told you what he wanted. But—akin to a spoiled child—he had to go and fulfill his whims, and now he didn't know how to breach the subject.

“What happened baby?” You tilted your head, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. Fuma melted into your palm, closing his eyes for a brief second, letting himself get lost in the cotton of your touch. 

“You know how we were at the baby shower?”

“Uh huh.” You said, suppressing a giggle. 

“And you know how we went to shop for baby clothes the other day?” 

“Baby—”

“I want to do that again.” Fuma pressed a soft kiss to your palm, “I want to do that all over again, but—” His hold on your waist tightened, as if to ground himself, “—I want to do that for our family.”

When you married Fuma, a little voice in your head had told you that this would be the man you’d spent the rest of your life with, and it had asked you, are you sure? And you had answered back, yes. If life was three seconds, three days, three months or thirty years long, this man would be the person you’d spend the rest of it with. To run through dandelion fields, to talk about everything and nothing all at once under a starry sky, to celebrate the poetry of life with. 

“Our family?” You repeated softly. 

Fuma nodded once, though the movement was small. “Yeah.” His heart was beating fast now, faster than he would have liked, suddenly looking far less confident than he had a moment ago. “I mean—not right this second,” He added quickly. “I’m not trying to rush you or anything like that.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your face at that. Your husband looked like a child in trouble.

“But…” He continued, searching for the right words. “Standing there today, watching you with your friend, seeing how excited you were about everything…” He glanced down briefly, then back at you again. “You’d be amazing.” He said quietly.

“Amazing?” Your expression softened.

“A mom.” The word seemed to surprise the both of you. Fuma laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck again.

“See, this is why I didn’t plan to say this out loud.” He muttered, the tips of his ears turning faintly red.

“You’re doing great so far.” You laughed softly. He looked at you carefully, trying to read your expression.

“I just—” He paused, then tried again. “When I think about the future, you’re always there, every version of it.” You didn’t interrupt him this time. “And today just made it… clearer, I guess,” He finished.

Fuma reached up to brush a strand of your hair back behind your ears, another shuddering breath from him as he saw how damn beautiful you were. Two years of marriage and he still couldn't help but feel like a stupid 20 year old boy everytime he looked at you.

“You really thought about this a lot, didn’t you?” You asked

“A little.”

“Fuma.” You raised a brow.

“Okay.” He admitted. “A lot.”

That made you laugh again. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly when he heard it. Then you reached up again, your hand returning to his cheek.

“And what if I said—” You smiled sheepishly, “—I thought about it too?”

Fuma didn't know if it was relief or something else that washed over him at your words.

“Say sike right now.”

“Oh god Fuma.” You laughed, slapping his chest, “What has Maki been teaching you?” You laughed with him for a second before sighing and smiling softly, “If I’m being a hundred percent honest…the thought has come into my mind a few times, especially whenever you held a baby.” You ran a tongue over your lips, “You look exceptionally dashing when you do that.”

“Dashing?”  Fuma cocked a brow, eyes flickering to your lips, “Go on.” 

“Well,” You continued, “It’s been two years already.” Your hand reached down slowly, “And we’re both logical adults.” You palmed his cock, “And we’re both very horny right now.” He was already so hard beneath your touch, “And I don’t think I can sleep without another orgasm tonight." 

Whatever Fuma did in his past life to get you in this one, he was thankful he did it. He let out a soft groan as you palmed his cock straining through his pants. God you were such a perfect fucking wife.

“You’re sure darling?” Fuma asked, “It’s a really big decision you know.” 

“Good that I make really nice decisions then hm?” You squeezed his hard length through his pants, a playful smile on your lips, “Need you so bad Fuma.” You rocked your hips against his, fluttering your lashes. 

Fuma groaned at your words, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily into your touch. "You're going to be the death of me."

With that, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you off to the bedroom with a determined stride. The mattress dipped under his weight as he laid you down, the lace camisole still clinging to your sweat-damp skin, his eyes roaming over your body with a hungry gaze. Two years of marriage and he was still putty beneath the power of your gorgeous face.

Fuma crawled onto the bed, covering your body with his own. He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you—though you were already his. His hands roamed over your body, caressing every inch of your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

Your husband took a moment to admire your chest, running his thumbs over your hardened nipples. You gasped at the contact, arching your back to press yourself further into his touch.

Fuma stripped quickly—shirt tossed aside, sweats kicked off—revealing his toned body, cock thick and straining, tip red hot and angry. He slowly (very very agonizingly slowly) settled between your thighs, propping himself on one elbow while his free hand traced lazy patterns over your hip. 

“You’re so beautiful, darling." He breathed, repeating the same praise for the fifteenth time that evening, eyes tracing every inch with worshipful intensity. His fingers dipped lower, gathering your lingering wetness before circling your entrance teasingly.

Slowly, so slowly, he pushed one thick finger inside you, watching your face as your pussy stretched around the intrusion. 

“So damn tight….gonna have to work her open first, yeah?” Fuma pumped it in and out, deliberate strokes that had you mewling, the earlier orgasm leaving you hypersensitive. He added a second finger, scissoring them gently, stretching your walls with patient precision. 

Fuma leaned down, kissing your collarbone, then your breasts, sucking a nipple through the lace until it was soaked and translucent. “I love you, my darling.” he murmured against your skin, his voice a mix of ferocity and adoration, “My everything, sweetheart.” 

“Fuma—feel so good…..fuck!” His fingers curled inside you, stroking that inner ridge over and over, building the heat anew.

You writhed beneath him, hands clutching the sheets, as he worked you open—three fingers now, thrusting deep, preparing you for what was to come. The room filled with the wet sounds of his fingers fucking you, your moans echoing off the walls.

He kept the pace languid, draaawing out every sensation, his free hand pinning your wrist above your head in a gentle hold. 

“Taking me so good, my darling.” Fuma’s eyes never left yours, passionate and intense, as another climax built, slower this time, like the coming of a spring, “Let go for me, go on.”

When it hit, it washed through you in waves, your pussy fluttering around his fingers, pulling him deeper. Your husband groaned, withdrawing at last, his cock twitching against your thigh. 

“Alright, baby?” Fuma asked, gentle faze tracing over your twitching body. Cute, he thought, she’s shaking from just my fingers.

“Fumaaa…” You whined, bringing your hand up to stroke his jaw, looking at him though half lidded eyes, “Want your cock, please?” 

Your husband was a….large man. Compared to others atleast, fucking hell was he built like a truck—one of the many reasons you married him. He was big in every aspect, broad shoulders and chest, thick fucking fingers (the fluid dripping down your thighs was proof it only took one deep plunge to make you cum), and perhaps the fattest cock you had ever seen in your life. 

And by god did it fill his ego to the brim to see you struggle to take him. 

His pretty little wife.

“Ready darling?” Your husband asked, all formal, as if anything was formal about that dick, positioning himself. 

“Just put it in already.” You huffed, wrapping your legs round his waist to bring him closer. You needed him right now. 

“So impatient baby.” He chuckled, tilting his head, “And if it doesn't fit? You know it never fits in the first try.” 

Technically speaking, your husband was correct. Two damn years and you could never take him all in the first go. He had to make you cum at least three times to get you wet enough. But speaking from your horny brain, you did not give a fuck.

“I’ll make it fit.” You said, voice breathy, “Please, Fuma? I’ll be your good girl, I swear.” He groaned at your words, his hips twitching forward slightly as if seeking more of your touch. 

“Well, who am I to deny such a pretty girl?” He purred, hovering above you, his cock heavy and throbbing against your slick folds, the broad head nudging your entrance.  You moaned at the contact, your hips bucking up as if it were a conditioned reflex. 

You could feel the stretch already, just from that initial press, your pussy still fluttering from the slow fingering that had left you open and aching for more. Fuma gripped the base of his cock, guiding it with deliberate slowness, but as he pushed forward, only the tip breached you before resistance met him—your walls clenching tight around the intrusion, too snug even after all his preparation.

Fuma let out a cocky laugh as he took his time, savoring the feeling of your right heat as he slooowly pushed inside. He groaned, low and frustrated, his hips twitching as he tried to sink deeper.

“So fucking small.” Fuma rasped, eyes locking onto yours with a mix of lust and amusement, “Pussy’s so damn small—pretty thing can’t even take half of me, yeah?” 

“F-Fuma slow down!” You gasped, your hands reaching for him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you held on for dear life, “Fuck—hah oh god Fuma too much!” 

“Tch tch.” Your husband clicked his tongue, “I don’t think I’m the problem here darling.” He leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, “You’re just—” thrust, “too” thrust, “small.” Your body shook like a dandelion in the wind as he forced his fat fucking cock into you, “Fuck she’s gripping me—ahh—like she wants to keep me out.” He rocked forward again, forcing another inch inside, but your body rebelled, muscles fluttering and squeezing in protest, “Does she want me out, my darling?”

You whimpered, hands fisting the sheets, the burn of the stretch mingling with sharp pleasure. Fuma chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to let you breathe before thrusting shallowly, teasing your entrance with the thick ridge of his cockhead.

“Look at you, all worked up and still too tight for your husband.” His free hand trailed up your thigh, thumb pressing into the soft flesh as he watched your face contort—lips parted, brows furrowed in that exquisite mix of pain and need. “What am I supposed to do with a wife who milks me like this? Can't even fit all the way in without—fuck—a fight.” Fuma loved this part, the way your body yielded inch by inch, proving how perfectly you were made for him, even if it took effort.

You arched your back, trying to ease him in, but he held your hips steady, controlling the pace. “Calm down sweetheart.” His voice was gravelly, “You said you’ll make it fit, so we’re going to make it fit.”

He pumped in and out of that shallow depth, the wet slide of your arousal coating him, but he couldn't bury himself fully—not yet. Frustration edged his teasing, his breaths coming harsher as he ground against you, clit catching the friction of his pubic bone on each nudge.

Finally, the playfulness snapped. With a feral growl, Fuma's hands clamped onto your thighs, fingers digging into the meat of them hard enough to bruise.

He pulled your legs up roughly, folding them back against your chest in one swift motion—the mating press that pinned you open and vulnerable beneath him. Your knees nearly touched your shoulders, pussy splayed wide and exposed, the angle forcing your walls to part just enough. 

“Theeere we go.” Fuma grunted, satisfaction lacing his tone as he aligned himself again. “Now you'll take it all, like the good girl you are.”

Surging forward, his cock speared into you in a single, brutal thrust, bottoming out with a slap of skin on skin. You cried out, the fullness overwhelming—his girth splitting you wide, the head of his dick kissing your cervix in a deep, unyielding press. 

It burned, god did it fucking burn, the stretch bordering on too much, but the pleasure crashed in right after, your pussy clenching greedily around his length. Fuma didn't give you time to adjust; he pulled back almost to the tip and slammed back in, setting a punishing rhythm that rocked your body against the mattress.

“Fuck, yes—feel that? How deep I am now?” He panted, hips snapping forward relentlessly, each thrust driving him balls deep into your core. 

The position kept you locked in place, unable to escape the onslaught, your thighs quivering from the strain as he folded you tighter. His weight bore down, chest pressing your legs further, turning you into a pliant vessel for his cock. He fucked you hard, the bed creaking under the force, your pussy squelching around him with every plunge—wet, obscene sounds filling the room alongside your moans and his grunts.

Sweat slicked his skin, dripping onto your chest as he rutted into you like an animal, chasing that primal need that had been resting in his chest ever since he saw you with a baby in your arms.

“Gonna fill you up.” He mumbled into your ear, lips brushing the shell as he nipped at your lobe, “Pump you so full—hah you’re so tight baby. You want that sweetheart? Wanna have our kids?”

“Fuma!” His words sent heat flooding your veins, your walls fluttering around his pistoning cock, pulling him deeper as if your body agreed, “Fuma fuck! Yes yes yes!” All your senses were gone at this point. 

He shifted his angle slightly, grinding against that sensitive spot inside you with each thrust, the friction on your clit from his body adding layers of sensation. You were lost in it, head thrown back, nails raking down his back as pleasure built relentlessly. Fuma's pace never faltered—rough, demanding, fucking you into oblivion as promised. 

“Take it darling.” His hand slipped between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing firm circles, pushing you toward the edge, “Take every fucking drop—ahhh god you’re squeezing me so tight.” 

The first orgasm hit you like a freight train, ripping through your core as your pussy spasmed around his cock, milking him in tight pulses. You screamed his name, vision blurring, body convulsing in the tight fold of the mating press. 

Fuma groaned, feeling you clamp down, but he didn't stop—thrusting through it, prolonging the waves until you were sobbing from the intensity. “One more, darling, just one more, I promise.” 

He kept pounding, the overstimulation making every slide of his cock electric, your sensitivity heightening the drag of his veins against your walls. His free hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as he chased his own release, but he focused on you—thumb pressing harder on your clit, hips rolling to hit that spot over and over.

“Fuck baby, go on—milk me dry. Show me how much you want our kids.” The words, combined with the relentless fucking, coiled the tension anew, faster this time, your body already primed.

You shattered a second time, orgasm crashing harder, your pussy gushing around him, soaking his balls as you clenched and released in rhythmic waves. Fuma cursed, the vice of your walls tipping him over. 

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, cock pulsing as he came—hot spurts of cum flooding your depths, painting your womb white. He ground against you, ensuring every drop stayed inside, his growl vibrating through your joined bodies. 

“Full…….so fucking full for me.”  Fuma had no idea what he was saying, dick and mind already milked to the brim, collapsing forward slightly, still folded over you as aftershocks rippled through both of you.

He stayed like that for long minutes, cock softening inside your bred pussy, plugging his cum deep. Only when your breaths evened did he ease your legs down, kissing your forehead softly as he pulled out.

“Shit.” You sighed as you felt him ease out, leaving you empty. Fuma cupped your cheek in his palm, tilting your face to look at you properly.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Emotionally or physically?” You chuckled, fighting the urge to fall asleep right there and then, “Because emotionally, I won’t accept anything else other than all that for sex after this.”

“All that?” Fuma chuckled, sliding down next to you, warmth radiating off his body, “You sure we’ll even be able to have sex after all that?” 

“Oh shut up.” You laughed, tossing one leg over his to tangle yourself in his grasp, “It takes people at least three attempts to get pregnant.”

“We can be an exception darling.” Fuma laughed, melting into your touch as the lady of the night pulled you both into her arms. 

The two faint lines two weeks later proved you to be the exception, indeed. 

fin. 

• him receiving body worship from you would turn him on SO BAD like praising his body and while roaming your hands, he might as well cum untouched. The way you appreciate the body he worked to hard on would arouse him so much. He would definitely flex his biceps, back, or his abs during sex just to get praises from you

• his chest area is definitely his sensitive spot like the first time you sucked his nipples he let out the loudest moan you've ever gotten from his and he almost came untouched from just you're tounge and fingers, this is a great weapon when you're either edging him or overstimulating him. His thighs are the second most sensitive spot he has, the way you would just rub his thighs ever so sensually would make him whine and hard. He would flex his thighs every time you would ride them and he would moan as if he was the one grinding himself.

• even though he has a deep voice, he lets out the most prettiest whine known to mankind. I'm not even kidding when I tell you he has the prettiest. When your kissing his sensitive spots or overstimulating him. his whines, being the prettiest that they are, would actually just motivate you more to overstimulate him which, contrary to his whines, loves it.

• pegging fuma🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️with the both of you having a big size difference it turns him on even more how you can easily make into cocksleeve for your strap. You got him begging, screaming and crying on your ‘cock’. He loves how he can just let go of his mature person and be pampered, turned into nothing but your slut, his mind has no thoughts other than the way you perfectly hit his prostate.

• fuma have always been a switch in my mind, now sub!fuma is obedient, good boy, good bunny. he’d do do anything to stay in your good graces, to be in the other end of your praises and loving touches. Though there was this one time when he came bratty and disobedient due to Nicholas’ influence. The degrading, hair pulling, overstimulation, just the overall rough treatment made him cum so much that you were worried that he still might be shooting blanks the next time you fuck.

• onto more pegging fuma thoughts. Fuma rides like an absolute GOD like you’re pretty sure if you had a real cock you would be the one getting overstimulated. The way he knows all the angles to make the strap hit all the right places is hot, your favorite has to be when his sitting on your lap facing you, his hands on your lower leg, his abs and chest, glistening in sweat and spit, exposed for your eyes to feast on as his hips keep on moving faster and harder motivated by your hungry gaze on him. Also the way his pecs and ass would jiggle every time he rode you made you go more feral.

• now dom!fuma is just as scrumptious as sub!fuma you know the tiktok audio “when i tell you to on my face dont just put 10% of your weight fucking sit on it, sit like a chair” yeah that is what he told you the first time he suggested for you to sit on his face. Seriously how could you think that you could crush him? Have you seen his body? the way his working in out for you? and plus suffocating in your pussy would probably the best way to go for him. Just do him a favor, sit and ride his face until youre squirting, he’d probably jump in joy if you ever do that to him.

You’re both pent up, you know that. It’s palpable—in the hot, heavy air, in the weight of his hands on your skin and the tension between you on the couch. The fervour of his every movement; every gasp for breath between hot, messy, desperate kisses across your skin. Eyes hooded. Breathing heavy. Jaw twitching like he’s trying not to crack.

Your skin is flushed, sweaty; his hands move across your chest and neck and thighs with a hurriedness, like he’s trying to drink you in, every inch of you, before you slip away and he never has the chance to.

You’ve never been wanted—needed—like this. It scares you just as much as it excites you. Maybe more.

Because Mingi is a man of passion—that was clear to you very early on—in everything he is and everything he does. And being the object of that passion is no small thing; it’s a fire that spreads without restraint and scorches everything in its path. Including you. Including him.

His hands reach under your ass to pull you up and onto his lap, straddling him with your legs on either side. You feel him under you—hard, throbbing, straining against his pants—and your body reacts to it instinctively; your gut twists and your cunt clenches around nothing; your hips buck, slowly at first, then faster and more desperate until your clothed pussy is grinding shamelessly against his bulge.

You’re not in control now; that much is clear. Desperation has boiled over until your head couldn’t contain it anymore and it’s seeped down into your cunt.

“Fuck,” Mingi groans into your mouth. “Baby, fuck.”

”Min,” you whine. “Min. Feels so—”

He pulls back fully, all of a sudden, holding your face in his hands and forcing your gaze on him. His eyes are blazing, pupils blown like he’s already lost control. His hands are practically shaking with need, but at the same time you feel the steadiness, the strength in his hold on you. The safety. “I can make you feel better,” he gruffs. “Better than this. Better than anyone.”

You know he can. He already has made you feel better than anyone, just from the way he’s touched you over your clothes and talked and praised you through each tiny movement. But you know what he’s getting at—what he actually wants. And you want it too—fuck do you want it too—you just…

You chew at your lip, hesitant; nervous. His gaze fixes on it briefly, eyes narrowing some. “But I’ve never— you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” His words are soft now, murmured; careful, but his eyes flash with something you don’t understand. A small smile pulls at his lips, all softness and fondness. “My sweet girl, aren’t you? So innocent. Unused. Never done anything.”

“Min,” you whine, flushing a little at the condescension in his tone—patronising without mocking, but still enough to make you squirm.

“Baby,” he coos. “You know I’ll go slow, right? You know I’d never hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I’ll ease you into it, too. Open you up for me, nice and slow. Nice and easy. Just the tip, ‘til you’re ready for the rest. You trust me, right?”

“I do.” Of course you do. At this point Mingi could put a knife to your throat and you’d lean into the blade if he told you it was safe to.

He kisses you again; harder, more forceful, verging on painful but still firmly on the side of pleasure. “Keep grinding, sweetheart,” he mutters. “Babe, fuck. Pull that little skirt up for me, I wanna see you.”

He folds the hem of it between his fingers; the little miniskirt you wore for your date today. The skirt that had made his face harden, darken momentarily until he got ahold of himself again. The skirt he couldn’t take his eyes off of until he got you home.

But even now, he waits. Doesn’t push it up himself—waits for you to oblige or to refuse.

You oblige, of course. You know from the way his pupils dilate even further when you do that your panties must be soaked. His voice comes out strangled, like there’s a lump sitting unyielding and pulsing in his throat. “Fucking hell,” he grits. “Little panties all wet n’ soiled. Is that for me, baby? That all from grinding against my dick like an unspayed puppy?”

“Yes,” you whimper, nodding dumbly. “Mingi, please.”

“I got you,” he says. “Can I touch it, baby? Feel how wet you are for me?”

His voice is hoarse, clearly affected. You nod eagerly; he huffs out a low, shuddered breath and slowly moves one hand to cup your heat. It sends a pulse through your body like an electric current. “Perfect,” he breathes. “You feel that? Your pussy is throbbing on my hand, baby.”

“I feel it,” you nod. Fuck, it feels good. Mingi is so big and strong and warm and as much as it scares you, you think you’d let him do anything right now. “Min…”

“M’here,” he mumbles. “Holding your little pussy for you, just like you need. You don’t know what to do with it, do you?”

You whine; his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze and his lips curl in a small, knowing smile. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “You’re just helpless, aren’t you? Need me to show you how to feel good. Will you let me?”

“I just— it’s a little scary, Min.”

“That’s okay, honey,” he says softly. “I won’t go in yet, yeah? Just gonna rub my dick up and down the outside, see? You’re already gushing for me there, you’ll hardly feel it.”

His finger slips into your panties, hooking around the crotch and pulling it to the side. Your pussy, now bare and exposed to him, throbs a little harder. “Min…” You gasp. The air hits your cunt like a shiver down your spine; Mingi’s eyes fixed firmly on it like it’s the sweetest and most aggravating sight he’s ever seen feels even more biting. Just the feeling of him, holding you in his lap and staring at your cunt like he wants to take it apart and is struggling to hold himself back, is unlike anything you’ve imagined.

From your very first day with him, Mingi’s been your protector. Your safety—and he still is.

Yet now, like his, he somehow feels a little like a predator too.

And you, for some reason, are desperate for him to strike.

“You’re pulsing,” he breathes, barely above a whisper. “Fuck, baby, I can see you throbbing for me.”

“I need you,” you whimper. The words are coming now of their own accord.

“Pull my dick out,” he says. You falter a little and he smiles softly, shifting you on his lap. “C’mon, tiny. Nothing to be scared of. It’s not gonna hurt you.”

“It might,” you mumble. “You’re big.”

You swear Mingi’s eyes flash; his hand on your waist feels a little heavier now, like there’s suddenly more hunger, more possessiveness behind it. More intention.

“I’m big?” He chuckles. You nod. “I’m big, yeah. Or maybe you’re just tiny. I won’t hurt you though, honey. I told you we’ll take it slow, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“Take it out then,” he says. “Be good for me, bunny.”

Your hands are shaking as you pull his dick out from his sweats; you’ve seen it before, of course, felt the hard outline of it when he’s pressed up behind you in bed—but this is different. This is going inside you.

It’s long and thick; rock hard and already leaking from the tip. “Fuck,” you breathe. “Min…”

“You like it?” He grins. You nod. “Good,” he says. “It’s yours. You can fuck yourself on it whenever you like, sweetheart. A big thick toy for my pretty little girl.”

“Please,” you mewl.

“You’re fine, baby,” he says. “Can you lift your hips for me, love?”

You obey, lifting yourself so you’re kneeling over him.

He grips the base of his dick, pumping it once, twice, three times, before his other arm wraps around your waist and pulls you down so your ass is resting on him and your pussy is pressed against the side of his shaft. You groan, the feeling of sending a spark of electricity through your body, and his cock twitches. “Fuck,” he gruffs. “Stay still, baby. Not gonna go in yet, just gonna fuck the outside, yeah? Where you’re all nice and slippery for me. Nice n’ wet already.”

“Okay,” you breathe.

It feels… strange. Good, definitely, but strange. Like you’re being teased. Every time his tip brushes against your clit you feel it through your entire body, to the tips of your toes and in the deepest crevices; your reaction to everything Mingi does, at this point, feels primal.

The way he groans, head thrown back in pleasure, feels primal too.

“Shit,” he grunts. “I gotta—fuck. This little cunt is so sweet, baby, so needy for me, I gotta fuck her. Need to.”

His dick is throbbing almost violently, pulsing against your clit and making you needier and needier. You want it—him—so bad you can’t even speak any more. You just whine, squirming, chasing the sensation and the pressure against your clit.

“C’mon,” Mingi says. “Let me in, baby. You want me inside, I can feel it.”

You nod. “Yeah,” you gasp.

“Tell me I can, then,” he grits out. “Tell me I can put it in. Just the tip, baby, please.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “The— just the tip, Min. Put it in.”

Mingi shudders; you feel it rippling through him, his grip tightening. He groans, adjusting himself, then slowly pushes in. “Thank you, baby. Just the tip, I promise. You’re being so brave, honey.”

Even from the tip you can feel the size difference between you; can tell taking him in his entirety will be no small task. The thought alone is dizzying; you’re squirming, trying and failing to stay still as he goes in deeper.

And deeper.

You hiss, muscles clenching, clawing at the material of his shirt. “Mingi,” you squeak. “It’s— what are you doing?”

He stops, freezing inside you, seeming to realise what he’s doing and getting a hold of himself again. But he doesn’t pull out—doesn’t back away. His eyes flicker up to your face, searching for something—a reaction, maybe, or a desperation you won’t admit. “Shit,” he mutters. “Sorry, baby, fuck, I just— you’re so warm, honey, so tight and wet, I’m losing my head a little. You make me crazy, you know that?”

You shake your head. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut, jaw clenching like he’s clinging to his composure. “You make it so hard to be gentle,” he says. “To hold back. I can’t think of anything but taking you apart right now. Filling you up. Fuck, baby.”

Fuck. Now neither can you. You whine, eyes squeezed shut, trying to think of anything else—anything but being ruined and claimed and bred by him.

But the image of him all the way inside, of you falling apart around him, of his cum dripping out of your stretched cunt—it’s too much. It’s too good.

You know you’re thinking with your pussy and not your head right now, and you don’t even care. You can’t care.

“Please,” you say. “Do it, Mingi. Fill me up.”

You feel him twitch inside you. His eyes soften, caring, a little concerned, but still the desperation and the excitement is overarching. “Are you sure?” He asks.

“I’m sure.”

He exhales, the breath slow and shaking, and nods. Then he starts again.

Slowly. Surely. But still dizzying.

You love how large Mingi is; how small and safe you feel with him. Now, though, you wonder if it’s possible to be too big.

“Shit,” you hiss.

“I know, I know, baby. Just open up for me, you can do it. That’s a good girl.”

He pushes his thumb past your lips, pressing it down on your tongue. “Make it wet,” he says. “That’s it.” Once he’s satisfied he pulls it out, smiling fondly at the whine that slips out of your mouth at the loss, and presses it against your clit. He rubs it slowly, firmly, the way he knows you like it.

Of course he knows. He’s the one who taught you how to touch yourself properly, after all.

You clench around him, pulsing, shifting yourself to chase the pressure on your clit and inadvertently pushing yourself down further on his cock. His voice is low, crooning, like he’s coaxing you open for him. “I’ll never hurt you, baby. Just wanna feel what s’like inside you. Doing so well f’me, that’s it.”

“Fuck,” you grunt. “Min, hurts—”

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Just for a little longer, okay? You’re gonna feel so full n’ fuzzy in a minute. Try and sit down for me, baby, try sit yourself down on my cock.”

It feels impossible, pushing yourself down any further than you already are; taking him any deeper than you already are. But Mingi is so gentle—stroking your skin, mumbling praises you can barely decipher—and he, both of you, wants it so fucking bad that all you can do is obey.

“That’s it,” he grumbles. “Good girl. C’mon now.”

By the time you get all the way to the bottom, your bodies pressed together, he’s almost crying. He looks like he’s trying not to shatter.

“Mingi,” you say. “Fuck me.”

“You’re ready? Really?”

“Really.”

You’re on your back, flipped over, legs around his waist while he hovers above you, before you can process it. Mingi’s eyes are dark, pupils blown and glinting with a desperation so hot it feels like it scorches your skin beneath it.

“Hold onto me,” he grunts. “You’re not getting it gentle.”

You squeeze your legs around him, pulling him closer, curling his shirt around your fists. Holding him like a lifeline; like he’s the only thing stopping you from shattering entirely.

At the same time, though, he’s the only thing that can make you shatter so completely and so thoroughly. He fucks you like he has nothing to lose, nothing to prove; like he’s entirely sure of himself and sure of his control. Like he can just take, take, take, and you’ll do nothing but stare up at him with wide, empty, loving eyes and give him everything he wants.

He’s right. Even when he finishes, when he falls over the edge with a shout and warmth blooms in your tummy, he keeps thrusting, keeps the same heavy grip on your waist like every inch of your skin belongs to him.

And when he pulls out and cum slowly starts to drip from your hole, he gathers it on his finger and pushes it back in.

“Keep it there,” he murmurs, smiling softly, tiredly at you. “You look so pretty full of me.”

in this day and age of hook-up culture, of getting lucky with nothing but a few swipes on your phone, it’s far too easy to just deceive your way into scoring some.

men are liars, and they all claim the same thing these days: they’re a munch, they can go until the sunrise, you’ll feel it in your kidney, they’re a feminist, etc… of course, it’s not until those men slide in dry after rubbing straight flap then cumming in three strokes before those poor women realise: a man will claim anything under the sun if it means you’ll fuck him.

although mingyu can relate to the desperation to get laid, he’s not so shameless that he’d just bullshit his way into someone’s pants. at that point you don’t even deserve it. he’ll stick by his true character even if he’s on the brink of insanity from lack of action. in saying that, what makes mingyu superior to thy neighbour is not just the fact that he only ever speaks the truth — but also in regards to the absurd cock size he’s been blessed with. 

through google searches of the average length not just in his country but the whole globe, triple takes from other men in public bathhouses, dick pics sent to talking stages and unsolicited dick pics sent to him — mingyu’s come to the conclusion that he’s bigger than average. to put it humbly, really.

at soft, he can make a few head turns at the least. at half-hard he’s got the size that most men lie about having. and when he’s fully erect, he should probably register his cock as a weapon. 

mingyu’s been told that his body’s sculpted like a greek god, complete with zeus’ lightning rod in his pants. he’s got the cock that the top gets in yaoi with ridiculously drawn proportions, the cock that gets spray-painted as graffiti on a cheating ex’s car. mingyu’s big to the point where it’s like okay, can we be serious, like this is doing too much. 

he’s been told by men and women alike that he could make a living off of his size. ah, what a dream that’d be. taking dick pics (maybe some feet in there too) to pay the bills. having fame and money and pussy for doing nothing but exist with a completely natural, albeit monstrously sized cock. 

he can forget about that ever happening though. it sounds like a dream because it is. nevermind being god’s favourite — mingyu’s starting to believe he must’ve signed a contract with the devil in his past life, because what good is a big dick if you’ve only got yourself to fuck? 

it’s a bad joke, really. all these inches and a pretty face but nowhere to use it. he’s only gotten laid enough times to count on one hand without lifting a thumb, and all instances had punctuated years worth of drought. 

size doesn’t matter, and he knows that firsthand. when he lost his virginity, he came the instant he slid into his girlfriend, who just said “that’s it?” then broke up with him. he’s had next to no luck landing any girls since that pitiful first, let alone getting one to stay. 

he knows he’s not exactly fucking like a pornstar, but his same absurd size is actually what’s holding him back. there’s been times when his cock getting hard for a girl has him on verge of fainting, just from all the fucking blood the monster in his pants needs to get up. then after some mediocre stroke game, the force of orgasming has him seeing literal glimpses of heaven.

despite the physical toll, in some pitiful moments of doubt he even began to question if he’s been lied to his entire life about his size — if it’s not earning him a text back because it’s actually pretty average. that is, until his best friend literally readjusted his glasses in shock the first time he saw mingyu naked. 

mingyu might be getting less action than an actual virgin. he’s since long forgotten how a pussy feels since becoming besties with his imagination and left hand — and it’s gotten to the point that the feel of his same old, boring palm can barely spark any pleasure. he may as well be rubbing off his ankle. 

the porn on page 1 to page 847 has no difference in how utterly useless it is when he needs help getting off. switching to his non-dominant hand, humping the mattress, buying a pocket pussy, watching fetish content on places he wouldn’t even go with a gun — all of it, useless. futile. 

he needs the real thing, warm and tight and living. he needs to get laid before he does something drastic and his face is plastered on every news channel … okay maybe not that far but he fears it really is that serious. all these extra inches means he’s got an extra intense libido to match, and nothing but extra extra bad luck when it comes to finding means of relieving it. 

one sunny day he rants about all of this to his roommate and best friend wonwoo, who nods over a steaming bowl of shin ramyun.

“i see.” wonwoo hums. “you’re not asking to fuck me, are you?”

“bro. fuck off.” mingyu groans, dropping his head to the table with a thunk. “you know what? yeah, i might if i don’t get laid soon.”

“well, i’m not a bottom, so unless you want to take it up the ass.” wonwoo shrugs, slurping down a mouthful of noodles without even chewing. (seriously, why does he do that?)

“don’t you have single friends? discord kittens? can’t you hook up a brother in desperate need? i’m losing vision in one eye with how pussy-deprived i am.”

wonwoo readjusts his glasses. “i do know some girls but.. you’d be okay with having my sloppy seconds?”

“forget i even asked man.” mingyu rolls his eyes, kicking his chair out from the table with a loud scrape on the floorboards. “i’m having a shower. need to jerk off before i hit something. or you.”

after a pitiful, rage-induced wank sesh under the hot stream of water (also a few stray tears shed), mingyu was pulling his boxers on when the door swung open.

“are you still on any dating sites?” wonwoo asked casually, ignoring how half of his best friend’s ass was still hanging out as he barged in. 

“no, i deleted my tinder after that one girl who set my nudes as her profile picture.”

“okay cool. try this one out.” wonwoo handed his phone over, open on the browser.

www.dtf.com

mingyu scrunched his face. “down to fuck dot com?”

ah, so a matchmaking site that doesn’t pretend to be about any ‘finding your soulmate’ bullshit and is unapologetically straight to the point: we’re all single and here to fuck. 

“can’t imagine you look for anything serious on here.” he snickers. 

“well no, it’s in the name. are you?” 

mingyu scratched his neck. truthfully, a girlfriend would be ideal but… beggars can’t be choosers. 

he shrugged. “whatever happens.” 

inspecting the rest of the site, he clicked to view wonwoo’s profile — then whistled at the suggestive set of photos displayed on his best friend’s page. 

Wonwoo A giver, most of the time. AGE: 25 HEIGHT: 6 ft SIZE: 8 in. LOOKING FOR: Female, Submissive INTERESTED IN: BDSM, Brat Taming, Humiliation, Degradation, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Impact Play, Daddy Kink, Sir Kink, Pet Play, Toys, Anal… [Show More] 

“you like being called ‘daddy’?” mingyu snickered. 

“yeah bro. e-girls flock to me like birds, that’s how i get so many over.” wonwoo replies with a smart-ass smirk. “they grip your dick like you’re gonna leave them.”

“….that’s just not what i asked, man.” 

safe to say, mingyu was sold. he promptly had his own account set up, then took close to an hour meticulously choosing the thirst trap images for his profile.

Mingyu Hey (with the intention of begging on my knees) AGE: 24 HEIGHT: 6’2  SIZE: 12 in. LOOKING FOR: Female INTERESTED IN: Vanilla, Missionary

when mingyu showed wonwoo the final product with a satisfied smile, his best friend burst out laughing. 

“are these the default options or something?” wonwoo asked, pointing to mingyu’s barren interests section. 

“bro, i’m just looking to get laid. doesn’t need to be any more complex than that.” mingyu pouted. “unlike you, i don’t need a girl to wear a cat tail butt plug and meow for me to get off.” 

“that sounds hot.” 

it does. “freak ass..” 

after leaving his best friend with the middle finger and then setting his profile to public for matchmaking, within mere minutes women were indeed flocking to him, much like birds. 

mingyu spent all night marvelling at his phone like a kid in a candy store — giggling as he sifted through profiles, kicking his feet as he chatted with women basically throwing themselves at him. 

despite wonwoo making fun of him, it seemed that his only interests being ‘vanilla’ had actually worked in his favour, since he had countless women from all different shades of kinks asking if he was open-minded. the one thing they all had in common though, from the bratty subs to the dominatrixes, was one burning question: is it really that big? 

and oh, he’s been more than happy to prove it; snapping a quick, shaky photo of the visible bulge in his calvin kleins and watching as all the phone numbers and addresses and nudes roll in like waves.

he hasn’t taken anyone up on their offers to meet up, not just yet. call him an attention whore, but he’s had years worth of yearning for this, dreaming about this, even crying in the shower after jerking off over this. these days it’s hard enough trying to reach an orgasm even with every tool in his arsenal — and yet he’s been laying here, chatting away with a lifetime’s supply worth of women, while being so turned on he’s basically blue-ballsing himself. 

ah, he could get used to this. this could even prove to be a little too dangerous. maybe he really was destined to be a pornstar, and him having no luck climbing out of bitchless purgatory was just the universe’s way of restoring natural balance. no one man should have all this power. 

the attention goes straight to his head, leaves him feeling high off of it. leaves him on cloud nine with a painfully hard cock.

ding.

leaves him with a harsh comedown that hits like a kick in the balls.

when he clicks to open the uncalled-for dm, mingyu can feel his boner go a quarter of the way back down just from the shock. what the hell does that mean? do you think he’s a bot, clickbaiting? but he put so much effort and care into choosing the right photos for his profile…

….is it really so unbelievable that he’s only looking for vanilla sex?

oh. okay. so everyone he’s chatted with so far may as well have been shy, considering how forward you are straight off the bat. not even a hello, how are you, my name is… just “i call bullshit, show me that dick.”

alright then. he can play ball.

mingyu tugs his boxers down his thighs, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach, even at only somewhat hard. he’ll need to get it all the way back it up if he’s going to prove it to you.

he has a full-body shiver when his hand grazes the tip, just from how on edge he’s been; smearing precum across his palm before his fingers curl around in a loose grip.

he’ll need something to jerk off to, and well, since your profile is there….

shit. it’s more than enough. you’re like, really fucking pretty. hot, gorgeous, panty-dropping and cock-raising. so pretty he actually feels a little guilty as his hand starts to stroke his cock, but hey, you’ll get him fully hard in no time.

mingyu swipes through the array of photos on your page, each one more revealing than the last, fist steadily pumping his length. it jumps between his fingers when he settles on a photo of you in white lingerie: the lace hugging your curves perfectly, plush lip bitten between your teeth, hands cupping the underside of your breasts and lifting them on full display.

it’s not until a fresh spurt of precum leaks over his knuckles that mingyu remembers he’s supposed to be taking a picture of his boner as proof, and not just… jerking off for the sake of it.

he has to literally rip his hand away, lower belly already coiled dangerously tight. he can’t remember the last time a girl in real life got him this hard and this fast.

shuffling closer to the mirror, he sits on the edge of the bed and holds his cock upright with one hand, the other holding his phone right next to it — as comparison, of course.

he holds his breath as he sends it through.

well, his stomach sank for a moment there, but he quickly recovers. mingyu lays back on the bed, running his palm up and over his length, just absentmindedly playing with himself as his jelly fingers type out a reply.

he’s quick to navigate back to your profile, cock reacting with a pulse as his eyes land on your face again like it missed you already.

he doesn’t even think about it this time: just gets completely lost in the sight before him, in the feel of his fist fucking him. until a ding cuts through the tunnel vision, your chat notification lighting up the top of his screen. the only thing that could tear his attention away from the softcore porn on your profile.

damn. guilty.

he feels his cheeks heating up a little. the fuck? you’ve got his grown ass blushing through the phone. either you’re a seasoned pro at turning men to putty, or mingyu’s just that out of the element.

his mind’s turning to complete mush at this point; tuned in solely to your pretty face and body, to your vulgar mouth. imagination drifting to the feel of your skin under the pads of his fingers, of your lips stretched over the head of his—

shit, he almost came.

mingyu nearly drops his phone as he fumbles to the camera app, shakily filming himself in the mirror as his hand goes to fucking town on his cock. his mouth’s even fouler than yours with all the whiney huffs and puffs pouring from his throat.

he’s not sure if the footage is long enough or even good enough but he also doesn’t care; sending it straight through to you while not missing a beat in jerking himself off.

he throws his head back on the bed with a tortured groan, back arching off the bed as his hips chase the circle of his fist with a mind of their own. he can’t recall the last time masturbating felt this fucking good, the last time it took such a short span of time for him to reach an orgasm.

the last time he was able to forget that the hand around his cock is his own — nothing but your face, that body, those curves behind his lids when he screws his eyes shut.

and just the mere thought that you could be touching yourself too? to the videos of mingyu touching himself, oh fuck…

mingyu winces as his grip tightens until it hurts, fist strangling the fucking life out of his cock. he squeezes until he literally feels the tidal wave of his orgasm receding, the hot pressure under his abs fading into sharp, demanding pulses of his cock.

why did he even say that shit? man, talk about being pussy drunk. he can just manage to feel the weight of shame pressing into his chest over the ache throbbing between his thighs.

if he really did fumble a chance as good as this, a girl as hot as you, he doesn’t even deserve to cum. maybe he should just start embracing the involuntarily celibate life..

to his surprise, another ding from you interrupts his pitiful — while still fully erect — wallowing.

much like a well-trained dog, you don’t have to tell him twice.

mingyu puts on a whole ass show for you. sits upright in bed, films his entire upper body to ensure no twitch or contraction of his sweat-slick abs was left out of frame.

he’s sure the speed of his hand gives away just how long he’s gone without getting laid, but mingyu can’t find it in himself to feel much shame at all now that you’ve offered a chance to remedy that up on a silver platter.

he cums obnoxiously: throwing his head back, adam’s apple bobbing with each shameless moan falling from his mouth; grinding his hips up into his ruthless fist like he’s fucking into someone; a hefty load spurting all over his pretty toned torso, your name slipping from his lips.

before the post-nut clarity can settle in, he sends the raw footage straight through to his patiently waiting audience.

mingyu was so ecstatic that he didn’t even bother to clean up properly, just quickly wiped himself with a tissue before skipping into wonwoo’s room and dapping his best friend up in celebration.

(his reaction being “bro you smell like cum.”)

after leaving dtf.com behind in a matter of hours and moving over to messages, a date was promptly established. being, a date as in the day, because there wasn’t going to be any conversing over dinner or fondling during a movie.

it’s becoming increasingly clear to mingyu that he really struck a pot of gold in you, since you were both on the same page about this: fuck first, talk later.

if you were to go on a date prior, mingyu knows good and damn well that he’d just be sporting a massive pitch in his pants throughout the entire thing; way too excited for his own good over the knowledge that he’s finally getting laid after.

the stars aligned to both of your schedules being open just two days from now. while the anticipation is sure to strangle him alive, he’s able to give wonwoo notice that he’s kicking him out for the day, and to prepare.

in the limited sexual encounters under his belt, mingyu can’t say for certain that he’s actually made a girl cum. unlike men, there isn’t exactly a visual indicator. his size alone could’ve been enough to get them off, sure. but when it comes to you, he doesn’t want to repeat that flustered fumbling; rubbing what he assumes is the clit based off of what he also assumes is genuine moans. his mouth hasn’t even graced a pussy before, isn’t that crazy?

those girls didn’t want anything other than to feel his cock in them, though — letting him touch for a few seconds before insisting that was enough foreplay. hence why he’s never learned.

you, however, like to play with your food. over texts you’ve been teasing the hell out of him, intent on finding out the limits of his desperation — and pleased to find there is none. he will genuinely do anything just to get a sliver of that pussy, and you only want him more because of it.

mingyu knows your expectations aren’t exactly high, but he doesn’t want to risk disappointing you so badly that you won’t sleep with him again. and if he can exceed your expectations, maybe you’d be open to being something more exclusive….

he’s a romantic at heart, okay?

of course, he had to seek out his most trusted elders for advice.

two torturously long days later, mingyu receives your “on the way” text and is pushing wonwoo out the door within the next second. 

“don’t be back until tonight, just in case.” 

“eh, you won’t last that long.” wonwoo shrugged. mingyu rolls his eyes, and wonwoo just slaps him on the back, pulling him into one of those side-hugs men do. “condoms are in my bedside table.” 

with that, wonwoo takes his leave; off to a girl’s place, no doubt. mingyu doesn’t really care to know. his mind’s pretty occupied with a girl of his own. 

mingyu rushes into his best friend’s bedroom, kicking his bulky ass gamer chair out of the way and pulling out the top drawer of his bedside table. mingyu physically recoils at the pile of dildos and vibrators he finds instead, which wonwoo so graciously neglected to mention. slamming that one shut, he finds what he’s looking for in the second drawer. condoms. 

….why are there so many? textured, warming, cooling, flavoured; how is he supposed to know which one you’d prefer?

after tossing the options over in his head (frantically panicking), mingyu settles on the box of strawberry flavoured condoms, grabbing out more than enough and stuffing them in his pocket. 

he then stops by wonwoo’s mirror, giving himself a once over. he went commando for obvious reasons, and his grey sweats already have a visible tent from how he’s half-hard just thinking about you. he already shaved everything in the shower, but he turns his head this way and that to make sure he didn’t miss any spots. pulls his pants down to check the same for his crotch. he smells his breath, his armpits. decides to spritz on more cologne and chew on some gum. 

then the doorbell rings. 

like some dog waiting for its owner, mingyu bounds over and hastily unlocks the door. 

there you are, in all your beauty — smiling sweetly in a little sundress (they always make men go crazy, for whatever reason). 

mingyu stammers like an idiot as he attempts to greet you, blocking the doorway as his eyes flick up and down and all around your body, damn nearly drooling until you clear your throat. 

“hey mingyu.” you coo, saccharine voice like honey and melting over his thoughts. “it’s nice to finally meet.” 

“yes, yes, of course.” he bumbles, finally stepping out of the way and letting you walk inside. he locks the door, gulping as he watches you inspect the place. how is he supposed to begin this? “did you, uh.. want any water or—”

that sentence is lost on the tip of his tongue when your lips smother it. you catch mingyu completely off guard when you step into a kiss with him, leaving no room for questions when your tongue slips into his mouth. you back him into the closest surface, being his kitchen counter, without breaking your mouth from his. 

mingyu’s quite good at kissing, since he’s got a lot of experience with that alone, but then not much for the after. 

mingyu knows how to lick his tongue against yours and tilt his head for deeper access. knows where to put his hands, how to hold just tight enough to leave your skin buzzing. he knows to pull you in and press your chest flush against his, and he’s mindful enough to keep his pelvis angled away from you. how cute and polite of him. it’s almost like you’re not here for the sole reason of getting in those pants. 

despite his best attempts, you rock your hips forward to meet his crotch, delighting at the solid rock you find there. mingyu muffles a noise into your mouth that you’re determined to hear out loud later. you roll your body into his again, brushing your front right up and gauging the outline of his cock. 

he’s already proven that he’s not lying about his size but man, fuck… feeling it in real life just brings the shock right back. to think, he’s somehow also desperate as if this thing couldn’t get him laid with ease? 

it’s flattering, really — that he chose you amongst all the girls throwing themselves at him, when all you did was doubt and make fun of him. 

mingyu finally succumbs to your ministrations and starts rocking his hips right back — tongue tasting every inch of your mouth as he grinds his length forward, nothing but the fabric of his pants and your dress to offer him friction. he’s so worked up that honestly, it could be enough to get him off. he can already feel his dick leaking into his sweats like he’s some virgin experiencing his first kiss. 

before he can actually just cum his pants, you part with him — a line of spit connecting your mouths that you wipe off. mingyu’s already huffing, waiting for your next move. you smirk, turning on your heel and walking further into the place. 

“which one’s your room?” you call after him. he takes that as a hint to run up and show you to it. 

mingyu can just barely hear your oohs and ahhs over the blood pumping like bass in his ears as he pushes his bedroom door open.

your fingers run along his shelves, eyes scanning his posters and the gym equipment scattered around the place. the picture of a dude’s room. 

“where’s your roommate?” you ask, perching on his bed. 

mingyu swallows, willing his voice to come, a little speechless just at the sight of you sitting where he sleeps. “wonwoo? uh, he’s out.” 

you hum, nodding. “so we don’t have to worry about your volume, then.” 

oh. you offer mingyu a grin and he just blanches. not yours, his volume. you’re not wrong though.. you’ll probably have him hooting and hollering from just thumbing his tip. 

you clear your throat, commanding his attention. 

“are you gonna fuck me from there or..?” 

mingyu can feel his knees bending a little, on instinct from being flustered and wanting to shrink. you pat on the bed, just to gently guide him, and mingyu follows like a dog. 

he chooses to sit beside you which makes you giggle. with a hand on the neck, thumb sitting above his thrumming pulse, you pull him in for a kiss. it’s startlingly tender, at least it begins so. 

it’s not long at all until your impatience wins over and you’re licking into his mouth again, enticing little hums from mingyu’s throat. you swings your thighs over his as you climb into his lap, feeling his whole body tense as you sit right on the massive tent in his pants. 

mingyu knows he’s fully hard, has been since you put your tongue in his mouth — but now you know it too. there’s a bit of an astonished look in your eye, as if finally confirming some theory. yes, it really is that big. boners give him headaches and he wouldn’t doubt that some of his back pain comes from lugging this big thing around all day. 

even now, he can feel his head swimming from all the blood leaving to his lower half. you may leave him with a killer migraine from how hard he’s sure to cum, but it’ll be more than worth it. and you can always make it up to him, maybe….

you grind down on him a few times, the wet patch on his sweats growing even worse; mingyu throwing his head back and just letting you. 

a rough hand gripping the scruff of his hair gets his eyes to fly open, staring at you with wide eyes like he’s in trouble. under his watch, you roll your hips deliberately slow, letting mingyu feel every ridge down there, all the wetness dripping from your— 

shit, you’re not wearing underwear. you giggle at his recognition, and mingyu’s hands fly out to grip your thighs. to slow you down or get you to speed up, he doesn’t know. as long as you don’t stop. 

you make a show with your hand: cupping a breast through your dress, trailing your fingers down your torso before they find the hem of your skirt. you snicker at mingyu’s eyes following every little move, then raise the dress to reveal your bare pussy rutting against his cock — nothing but the thin fabric of his sweats separating you, soiled sticky with your shared arousal. 

mingyu whines at the sight, his cock pulsing under you in tandem. you even look a bit startled at how much of it moved, practically halfway in you at this point. 

to his dismay you shift back, sitting on his thighs and leaving his poor crotch empty. he doesn’t get to pout for long though, since your hand leaves the dress to brush your knuckles against his length. mingyu shivers, a desperate noise leaving his mouth as your fingers dance over his cock. it throbs and jumps in response, and you giggle, continuing to just play with it. he can barely feel the warmth of your fingers through the fabric, and his hips cant upwards in chase of it. 

“you’re real pretty like this, mingyu.” you murmur, fingers softly making a plucking motion over his tip and watching him try to thrust up into it. 

as a big ass dude, he’s never heard himself be called ‘pretty’ before, even by his mother but… the way his body reacts to that speaks for itself. 

he can’t even get out a ‘thanks’, nothing but embarrassing whines leaving his mouth, even over the faintest stimulation you’re offering him. 

“you’ll need to work to fit inside.” you tell him, and he nods, even though he doesn’t even fully register what that means. “mingyu?” 

“yeah?” he huffs out, glossy eyes finding yours. you swoon over how much he looks like a puppy, especially with his open-mouth panting, and the fact that he won’t move unless you tell him to. 

softness swells inside you and your fingers splay through his hair, combing through it gently. a contrast to your blunt words: “eat me out.” 

“oh,” he just says, mind lagging behind as the words sink in. “oh. yes, yeah. i can do that.” 

you huff in amusement, pushing off his lap and positioning yourself at the edge of the bed. “i would hope so..” 

mingyu follows your lead, sliding off the edge himself and sitting on the floor in front of you. you giggle at his commitment, spreading your legs and pulling the skirt up so your pussy is on full display for him. 

saliva gathers in his mouth just looking at it, and he mentally runs through all of the advice jeonghan and joshua gave him. 

leaning forward, mingyu starts out slow; leaving soft pecks on the skin of your thigh, listening to your breathing as he inches closer. he works up the courage to look up, holding your gaze as he gives a tentative lick. 

you hum appreciatively, fingers finding his hair again, his lashes fluttering over how much he likes the feel of your hand there. mingyu dives in again, just licking for the sake of it — running his tongue through your folds and familiarising himself with your taste. he pulls a steady stream of hums from you, punctuated with a gasp when his tongue presses just right in a particular spot. 

the clit, mingyu realises. he latches on so he doesn’t lose it — lips closing around the bud and sucking. your back arches, fingers twisting in mingyu’s hair and causing a groan to rumble on your pussy. 

while mingyu kinda knows what to do, he also kinda doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, so he follows the noises above him as direction. he builds a rhythm, switching between quick flicks of his tongue and sucking your clit into his mouth. then, he gets curious: licking down to your hole, juices gushing onto his tongue as he buries it into you. you squeak, thighs clamping around his head, and mingyu uses both of his hands to pry them back open. 

he fucks you on his tongue, trying his best to keep his eyes on you through how much they’re rolling back into his head. he thinks he’s got the hang of this now — and so he drags his mouth back to your clit, replacing his tongue with two fingers. mingyu pistons them in and out, curls them up, and goes light-headed at all the gorgeous noises he’s pulling from your mouth. 

you’re tight, such a tight fit it might hurt him when he goes in — so he can only imagine how much it’ll hurt you. 

on that thought, mingyu scissors his fingers, spreading you open and brushing against your g-spot as he does. his cock jumps in his sweats as you drag out a moan, fist close to ripping out his hair. mingyu adds a third finger, fucks you on them for a bit and listens to your moans in response before easing in a fourth. even all his fingers won’t compare to his entire size, but it’s all he has to prepare you enough. 

for the first time maybe ever, mingyu’s certain that you’re close. your body’s practically vibrating: thighs tensing around his ears, pussy throbbing in his mouth and around his fingers. 

mingyu locks in, keeping his hand and tongue steady to fuck and lick you through it — that is, until you just tear his face away. 

he blinks, registering what just happened as you pull his hand out yourself. he blinks again, and suddenly you’re pulling him up by the shirt collar until he’s sat back on the bed. 

you shove him, and mingyu falls on his back. one more blink and mingyu’s met with the image of you lowering your pussy onto his mouth. 

you straddle mingyu’s face, grabbing hold of his hair as an anchor before you start to rocklike crazy. your dress covers his eyes, but he’s undeterred as his hands find your ass and push you further down, gladly presenting his tongue for you to use. 

mingyu can hardly breathe, but he’d die happily if the last thing he hears is your moans as you ride your orgasm out on his face. 

his scalp burns when your fingers twist impossibly tight, hips grinding onto him so hard that even his teeth ache — but then a fresh wave of slick is gushing onto his tongue, and mingyu knows that you’re cumming. 

it’s all too much for him and his painfully erect cock, and before he can even register what’s happening — mingyu’s stomach is lurching, cock spilling a hot load into his sweats. 

you climb off him, looking unkempt and yet every bit still gorgeous. you tug mingyu by his neck into a kiss, feral and sloppy. teeth gnashing and tongues twisting. your chin sliding against his chin, covered in your cum and his own spit. 

mingyu’s the one who breaks it off this time — as much as it pains him, he probably would’ve suffocated on your tongue there with just how breathless he’s been since you unsaddled from him. 

you notice, allowing him a moment to actually get some air back into his lungs as you kiss along his jaw and above his adam’s apple. it bobs as you leave a peck there. 

turning your attention to the rest of his body, you tug on his shirt, and mingyu lifts his arms to let you pull it off. chest bare, you begin to ravage him, leaving your mark as you suck hickeys and nip bites at his honey skin. your tongue runs through the valley of his pecs and the ridges of his abs, stopped only by the band of his sweats. you pull back, eyes landing on the large stain in his pants, and your lips curl into a smirk. 

“aw,” you pout. “i’m flattered.” 

you peel his waistband back, and mingyu takes the hint to raise his hips and let you pull these godforsaken sweats all the way down. he winces when his cock slaps against his stomach, sensitive and yet still fully hard. 

you take a moment to just admire it, and mingyu gets progressively shy, pre beading at his tip like there isn’t actual cum still covering his length. 

you wrap gentle fingers around the base, smiling at how it jumps in your hand. what mingyu doesn’t expect is for you to lean down, and press your lips against the head of his cock. 

mingyu groans, so sensitive and yet so fucking good. you don’t go too hard as you mouth at his tip, then darting your tongue out and running it down his length — licking up all the cum dripping down to his balls. you even leave a kiss on his sack, and he shivers, almost shutting his legs on instinct. 

he giggles. “sorry, no one’s ever—”

“i could spend all day down here,” you tell him, eyes alight and smile beaming. you really do mean that and you want him to know it. “you’ve got more than enough for a girl to be grateful for.” 

mingyu shivers again as you leave an open-mouthed kiss on his cock, running your lips over his length, though he’s not sure if it’s because of that or because of your words. 

“almost didn’t believe a man that looks like you could be so desperate, but now..” you press your thumb to his frenulum, revelling in the moan that rips from his chest. “what a lucky girl i am, huh?” 

“ffu—shit, you mean i’m the lucky one,” mingyu manages to grit out. “haven’t been laid in forever.”

“see now, i just can’t believe that. well, i do, now that i’m actually touching you—” you squeeze his tip as if to make a point, and mingyu nearly thrashes from how much that just built his next orgasm. “guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time, hm?” 

mingyu nods feverishly. you smile, so entirely endeared with him. 

with how much of a package mingyu is (in more ways than one), you probably would’ve still fucked him even if you found out he was lying about being pathetically bitchless. now, his good looks are just a bonus. you’re going to fuck him because you’re starting to feel quite fond of him. 

“where’s your condoms?” you ask him, granting his poor cock some mercy and instead choosing to run your hands over his sweat-slick abs. 

“er..” his mind blanks for a moment, too caught up on the fact that you’re really about to fuck him. “pants pocket.” 

you stand from the bed, kneeling down to reach into where you threw his pants on the floor. you arch a brow at mingyu, no doubt realising how he’s got an entire stash of condoms in there, but you don’t mention it. 

back on your feet, you shrug your dress off, revealing nothing but a bare, beautifully sculpted body beneath. 

“wah..” mingyu unintentionally says out loud, just admiring you. 

you roll your eyes, ripping the condom packet open with your teeth. “don’t cum before i even put it in.” 

“better hurry then..” he smiles, flashing his sharp canines. 

it’s all fast movement from there: you slip the condom on mingyu, snickering a comment about how it took forever until it reached the base, and then you position yourself right above him. 

mingyu holds his breath, expecting you to ease onto him — totally unprepared for you to just drop down.

mingyu body curls upwards like you’ve just winded him, cursing like a sailor over your heat wrapped around him. he already knew it’d be like this, even with all the prep, but you’re so fucking tight. you’re just sitting there, not even moving, and yet your pussy is strangling the fucking life out of his cock. 

he’s so caught up in trying not to cum prematurely that he forgets about your own discomfort. mingyu recollects himself, pressing a gentle palm to your back as he schools his shaky breathing. 

“you okay?” he wheezes out, eyes screwing shut at the pulse your pussy gives. 

“mm.” you hum, offering no sign to fuss over, but that doesn’t stop mingyu. holding your waist, he attempts to lift you off of him, but you cut that shit out immediately when you grind yourself forward on his cock. he keels over, head buried into your shoulder. 

“‘s a lot to take, but i’m fine, mingyu.” you reassure him, fingers playing with his hair since you’ve realised how much he seems to like it. “are you okay?” 

he groans out, intending for that to be a yes. you giggle. “i’m going to move now, alright?” he repeats the groan noise in reply. 

you plant both feet on either side of mingyu, balancing yourself with your hands holding his hair, and then you start to bounce. just slowly to start off, letting your pussy adjust to the massive ass cock spearing you open. you know that if you were to have inched down, your pussy would’ve tried to push it out, so making mingyu fit meant just taking it all at once. 

he currently looks like he’s the one that has to adjust to you, though. 

mingyu lets out a stream of whimpers into your ear where his head is lolled onto your shoulder, just pliantly taking what you’re giving him. all of his brainpower is channelled into holding his cum back right now. 

his effort is almost in vain when you speed up, bouncing so hard that his balls smack into your ass with each thrust onto him. 

he’s moaning so loud he didn’t even realise the desperate cries coming from your mouth too — dick twitching so violently he didn’t even realise how much you’re pulsing around him. 

mingyu pulls back, knowing he’ll regret it if he spent the entire duration of sex with his face stuffed in your shoulder — his eyes captivated on where your bodies connect. 

he can’t find the strength in him to offer anything more than his hips stuttering up, attempting to meet each of your bounces on him. in and out, in and out, in and— 

“fuuuuucck,” mingyu drawls, eyes rolling so far back he catches a glimpse of his own brain. 

you don’t mention it as you quickly wipe some drool from the corner of his mouth, then gasp as you feel his cock spasm like a snapped rubber band. “shit, mingyu, are you—”

you don’t get to ask and he doesn’t get to answer before his orgasm slams into him like a bag of bricks. mingyu’s head lolls back, knuckles turning white where they’re holding onto your waist for dear life, sure to leave bruises in their wake. 

you fuck mingyu until you’re certain the condom must be flooded, and then you fuck yourself on him some more. 

mingyu’s unintelligible at this point, hoarse voice almost unrecognisable as he can do nothing but moan through the sensitivity. it’s raw and god it hurts but you don’t stop fucking him. he doesn’t want you to either. 

your bounces shift into rocking your hips on him, his spent cock rubbing deep and perfectly into your g-spot. your clit grinds on the skin of his groin with each movement, and before long you’re riding out a second orgasm on him. 

mingyu takes it, long past his limit but loving every second of you just using him like a toy. he even tries his best to fuck up as you’re cumming, the sweet thing. 

after the last wave of your orgasm gushes around his cock, you just lay boneless on mingyu — his body keeping you both propped upright as you catch your breaths and your trains of thought. 

his large hand comes to caress your back. he winces when you pulse around him once more, his cock softening inside the spent condom. 

“you should probably take the condom off.” you mumble into his collarbone. 

he hums, finger mindlessly drawing shapes onto your back. 

“and put a new one on.” you add, leaving a peck on his jaw like what you said was nothing out of the ordinary. 

“wait, what?” 

“what?” you eye him like he’s the one who said something crazy. “did you think that’s all i came for?” you continue, smile stretching across your face. 

“uh…” well, yeah. every other girl he’s been with was halfway out the door before he could even tie the condom up. 

you kiss him, sweetly this time. a stark contrast to the sloppy, tongue filled make-outs you were having just minutes ago. 

“unless you don’t want this as much as you’ve led me to believe..” you tease. 

“fuck, i do, i do.” he confirms quickly. “just… give me five minutes.” as if on command, his temple throbs with pain. “and some ibuprofen.” 

you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

god, you’re going to wring all 12 inches of him dry. 

...is this enough to ask if you’d like to go out sometime?

“You don’t get it Lyssa,” You pinched the bridge of your nose, eyes closed as you paced the ground by the end of you and Mingi’s shared bed, “you and Yeosang actually have an interesting sex life.” you could recall the times that she had called gushing about all of the new things that they would try, whether you really wanted to know or not.

“Then talk to him girl, it wouldn’t hurt and hey maybe he’s just been scared you wouldn’t be into it.” Lyssa shrugged from the other side of the phone; she had heard this conversation from you countless times. Even more here as of late because you had just got off your period and were going insane because of ovulation.

You groaned once more, “what am I supposed to tell him? ‘Hey Mingi, I’m tired of the boring shit, you should tie me up and fuck me till I pass out’ or maybe ‘I want you to pull my hair and spit in my mouth’.”

Lyssa burst out laughing on the other side of the phone causing you to roll your eyes as you walked over to the window. The thoughts of Mingi doing all of those things to you were making you all hot and bothered, your thighs subconsciously rubbing together to try and relieve some of the pressure.

“Girl, how much porn have you been watching?” She asked between laughter, “just ask him if he would consider it, you know how much he cares about you y/n.”

You sigh, shaking your head. You knew she was right, that all you had to do was talk to Mingi about it, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by it. What if he thought that you didn’t enjoy the sex that you did have? Or what if he thought you were weird for being into the more kinkier side of things?

Clearing your throat you just decided that you would just keep your mouth shut, too embarrassed. Biting at your bottom lip, you just told Lyssa that you would call her later, and she sighed before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Your whole body felt warm, need fill your veins, but Mingi was downstairs cooking dinner, so you weren’t going to bother him. Trying to shake the feeling off a bit so you could take a shower to maybe cool off, you turned only for your breath to hitch in your throat.

Mingi stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Your heart started to race, heat creeping up your neck, praying that he had just gotten there and didn’t hear a word of your conversation. Your tongue jutted out to wet your lips as you tried your best to keep his intense eye contact.

“H-Hey baby,” You cured yourself for stuttering, instantly giving yourself away. “Is dinner done?” You tried to keep your voice steady as you watched him push off of the door frame, walking towards you.

All of the hairs on your body stood tall as Mingi made his way closer, his eyes bore into you like a wolf stalking a rabbit. Swallowing thickly you started to back away with every step that he made towards you.

Your heart was beating loud enough that you were sure that he could hear it and your face felt so warm that you started to wonder how you hadn’t passed out yet.

“Mingi?” You called out his name as your back came into contact with the wall, stopping your movements. “What are you—”

“You know…” He cut your words short as he closed the space between you, hand pressed against the wall next to your head taking in the panic in your eyes. Your heart nearly stopped when he leaned down until his lips were right next to your ear, “I never thought my sweet little princess was such a nasty slut.”

Your eyes went wide as he backed away to meet your eyes once more, he had heard the conversation. So many things started to spiral in your head, did he really think that? Had you grossed him out?

All of those thoughts came to a screeching halt when he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up until his lips were merely inches away from yours. Your eyes flutter closed waiting for him to close the space between you. However, he doesn't instead he rubs your bottom lip with his thumb, prompting you to open your eyes.

“Is that something you really want, princess?” He asked, eyes searching yours as you looked up at him. Not having the courage to speak the words, you went with nodding your head softly, but Mingi just shook his, “I’mma need to hear you say it, love.” His voice dropped an octave making your knees weak.

Swallowing thickly, “Yes, I want this, Min. Please.” Your voice was merely a whisper, but the male had heard it nonetheless.

“Good girl.” Mingi’s voice was like honey, coxing you into a trance. Your eyes fluttered closed once more as he closed the gap between the both of you, stealing the air from your lungs. His lips were soft against yours, moving slowly as his hand moved from your chin to encase your throat, causing a small squeak to leave your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by his lips.

“Mingi.” You whined as he pulled his lips away from yours trailing down your jaw, nipping at the skin. The hand around your throat moved away allowing him to leave wet, hot kisses along your jugular.

You could feel your panties growing wetter and wetter by the second as his hands roamed your body, squeezing your hips before trailing down to your thighs. Before you could even process it, Mingi lifted you off your feet, hoisting you up his hips. In seconds, Mingi’s lips were back on yours as he walked towards the bed, laying you down on the soft mattress. Small whines fell from your lips as his hands wandered from your inner thigh to your core, pressing down enough to elicit an actual moan from your lungs.

Mingi pulled away from you so he could take in your dazed eyes, your kiss-swollen lips, and how your chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. He had been holding back for so long, thinking that you wouldn’t like how rough he could be, but seeing how desperately you had wanted it when you were on the phone with your friend. It was driving him crazy thinking about how much he could ruin you.

His eyes followed your hands as you reached for the hem of his shirt, but he was quick to grab your wrists, holding them in place.

“Here’s the deal baby,” He looked down at you with a lust filled gaze causing you to bite your lip, “if you want this, we’re doing things my way, meaning…” Dropping your hands he grabbed your thighs pulling your lower body flush against his and a gasp escaped from your lips as you felt his erection against your clothed core. “You just be a good girl and listen.”

You nodded quickly, the need to have him touch you growing way too strong to care. Mingi smirked, knowing that you were already losing yourself, making his job a bit easier. Biting his lip he leaned back over you, pressing his bulge against you, watching your eyes roll slightly.

His hands moved to the hem of your shorts, fingers looping around the band to pull them down. Your whole body was tingling with excitement, you weren’t sure what to expect but you were going to take anything and everything that he has to offer you.

“Mingi, baby, please.” You whined, lifting your hips slightly, your body shivering when you felt him against you.

Chuckling, Mingi made quick work of your sleep shorts and underwear, leaving your bottom half completely bare. Once the articles of clothing were discarded elsewhere in the room, he moved down until he was face-to-face with your dripping cunt. Your heated gaze followed after him, watching in anticipation.

“Oh you’re dripping baby,” He teased as he spread your folds, taking in the way your hole clenched around nothing. A gasp fell from your lips when buried his face in your cunt, nose bumping your clit as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck princess, you smell so sweet.”

Your thighs already started to tremble when he licked a stripe up your slit before wrapping his lips around your clit. A loud moan ripped through your throat when he started to devour your pussy like it was his last meal.

“Fuck Mingi!” You cried out, your hand flying to his head, finger gripping on his hair. Your back arched off the bed, pushing your hips further into his face, causing him to groan. Mingi was quick to press his hand flat down on your stomach, keeping you in place.

Choked moans fall from your lips as your head falls back, fingers gripping Mingi’s hair tightly. The pain only spurred Mingi on further.

Sparks flew across your vision as he moved down to your slit, tongue moving along your velvet walls while his nose rubbed your clit in ways that left you seeing stars. Your orgasm was right on the tip of your tongue and your legs shook on either side of his head.

“F-Fuck! Mingi!” You cried out as your body started to spasm, toes curling as your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as he moves back up to your clit, sucking on it harshly. “Mingi, ‘s too much.” Whimpers fall from your lips as he keeps up his pace throwing your body into overstimulation.

“You can take it baby,” He pulled away, allowing your vision to focus for a moment, until his fingers started to trace your entrance. “This is what you wanted after all.” Then he slipped his middle and ring finger inside of your soaping cunt with little to no resistance. Your back started to arch once more, but his hand on your stomach pressed down firmly causing you to whine.

“M-Mingi— fuck!” You moaned out as the pace of his fingers picked up, rubbing one picurlier spot which left you lying there breathless. “Mingi, shit please.”

Mingi didn’t say a word as he latched his lips back to your clit, completely losing himself in the taste of you.

Your heartbeat was ringing in your ears as your mouth gaped open, head falling back. Stars danced across your vision, your whole body shaking underneath Mingi’s hold. The pace of his fingers was relentless as he easily found the spongy spot inside your pussy making you cry out his name. Your whole body tingled as all of your senses became overwhelmed, thighs trembling, threatening to close. Noticing this, Mingi took his hand from your stomach to grip one of your thighs tightly.

You weren’t able to give him a warning as you came around his fingers, as he continued to suck on your clit in time with his fingers. Feeling you squeeze around his fingers as you cried out his name left Mingi groaning against you.

“Fuck baby, you came so much.” He cooed at you as his fingers continued to work into your sensitive cunt, prolonging your orgasm until you shook tremendously.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall as he rubs your sweet spot once more. Your hand falls from his hair to grab at his wrist, hoping to pull his hand away from your sensitive pussy.

“Come on princess, give me one more.” He smirked as he kissed his way up your tummy, moving your shirt out of the way. You whined when his thumb made contact with your clit, your head falling back, allowing Mingi to latch his lips to the soft skin of your neck.

“Mingi, I can’t, please.” You whimpered as you clench around his fingers once more, your orgasm right on the horizon, but Mingi just sped his fingers up more, causing a choked moan to fall from your lips.

“Take it like a good girl and stop whining.” He growled against your skin, making your head spin at the tone. Moving away from your neck, he hovered over you, taking in the fucked out expression on your face with a smug smirk. “You are a good girl, right?” He asked, watching in amusement when you shook your head vigorously, biting your bottom lip.

After a few more strokes of his fingers, you came undone around Mingi’s fingers for the second time, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as silent screams fell from your lips. Mingi’s fingers move along your silky walls, helping you ride out your orgasm.

Your chest heaved as Mingi pulled his drenched digits from your core, bringing them up to tap on your bottom lip, looking at you expectantly. You looked at him with dazed, wide eyes.

“Go on, clean my fingers, this is your mess after all.” He raised an eyebrow, tapping your lips once more, prompting you to open them. He watched with a smirk as you allowed him to stick his soaked fingers into your mouth.

Wrapping your lips around his fingers, tongue dancing around his digits. Your brain nearly short-circuited at the taste of your own release. Mingi bit back a groan, his pants becoming uncomfortably tight.

Once he deemed his fingers clean enough, he pulled them from your mouth, watching the string of saliva grow thin until it snapped. You breathed deeply as he moved away from your body, tugging at the strings of his sweatpants.

Your eyes stayed trained on his body as he pulled his shirt over his head, allowing you to ogle at his toned stomach. Feeling your eyes on him, Mingi looks over at you, meeting your eyes and sending you a wink. Heat crept up your neck as you kept his eye contact.

After Mingi had discarded all of his clothing, letting his hard cock spring free, beads of precum decorated the tip. Your thighs clenched together at the sigh, mouth watering, wanting nothing more than to crawl to him and let him use your throat until he was content. However, Mingi had a different plan, leaving that idea for the next time.

Mingi made his way back over to the bed, sitting down where his back was pressed against the headboard. You sit up on shaky arms, watching and waiting for his instructions, not wanting to do anything against his command.

“Come here, princess.” He motioned you forward, and you did as told, moving towards him on shaky legs.

His hands grab your hips as you straddle his waist, your heart hammering in your chest as the need starts to creep up your spine once more. One of your hands gripped his shoulder while the other went down to his dick, starting to line it up with your entrance. Mingi couldn’t help but chuckle at how desperate you were to have him in you.

However, his grip on your hips tightened, keeping you from sinking down onto him fully. A whine tore through your throat as you looked at him with teary eyes. You tried to wiggle your hips as you felt his tip prodding at your entrance, but not quite going in.

“Mmm, what do good girls do?” He asked, leaning forward to press hot kisses along your collarbone. You whined, fingers digging into his forearms as you fought against his grip, just wanting to sink down onto him. Noticing that you weren’t going to do as he says, he pulled away, a hard gaze fixed on his features. “Don’t make me ask again.” Mingi’s voice was cold, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

A whine fell from your lips as you met his heated gaze, and the tears that pooled at your waterline broke free. Frustration bubbled in your chest, biting on the inside of your cheek. You wanted to talk back and tell him to just let you ride him, but you had a feeling that doing so would just result in the opposite of that. Then it clicked in your brain, this could be what gets you what you wanted.

“Just fuck me, Mingi.” You sassed with a roll of your eyes, and it was then that something switched in Mingi’s mind. Something clouds his mind as he flips the two of you around until you are lying on your back, staring at him with wide eyes.

You opened your mouth to say something, but only a small squeak came out as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, squeezing. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, staring up at him, body wiggling underneath him in anticipation.

“What happened to my good girl?” Mingi asked, the corner of his lip twitching and his eyes growing dark.

You couldn’t help the smirk that started to spread on your lips, not entirely sure what was coming over you, but the insatiable need to act out was stronger than ever. The expression, however, only annoyed Mingi further, though your next words finally push him over the edge.

“The good girl is gone, Min, fuck me like the slut that I am.” Your voice was sweet like honey as you stared up at him with doe eyes.

“So you wanna be treated like a slut?” He chuckled darkly, causing more heat to pool in the pit of your stomach, “then I’ll treat you like a slut.”

He then slid inside of your wet heat in one go, causing your jaw to go slack, eyes rolling back. Broken moans fall through your lips as his pace picks up, not giving you a moment to adjust. His hold on your throat tightens as he fucks into you, dark spots clouding your vision.

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl?” Mingi chuckled, hips snapping into yours, hitting all of the right spots deep inside of your cunt.

His hold on your throat tightens until you are left with very little oxygen supply, making your brain go hazy. Mingi watched smugly as your mouth opened, gasping as he pistoned his cock into your cunt. It wasn’t until your nails were digging into his wrist, gasping for breath, and walls clenching around him tightly that he loosened his grip, allowing you to breathe.

“Fuck baby, you’re squeezing me so tight.” Mingi groaned, his other hand squeezing your hip to keep you in place as you started to squirm, the sensitivity starting to get to you. He watched as your mouth dropped open once more, and a thought flooded into his mind.

Leaning down, “stick your tongue out, princess.” His voice was husky as he bit back a groan from how tight you were squeezing him, a telltale sign that you were close. You whined as he brushed over your sweet spot, pulling more tears from your eyes. Moving his hand from your neck, he grabs your cheeks, smooshing them together, making your eyes focus on him. “Stick your tongue out,” Mingi repeated himself with a growl, and this time you did as told, letting your tongue loll out.

Mingi gathered a ball of saliva in his mouth before spitting it into your mouth, watching as it slid down your tongue, which only made him ten times harder. When you closed your mouth to swallow without him telling you to do so, he groaned.

“Mingi!” You screamed his name as he slammed into you roughly, inching you closer to your orgasm, black dots clouding your vision.

“Are you close already, baby?” He cooed mockingly as he removed his hand from your face to place it back on your throat, squeezing until a choked moan came from your lips. His other hand then moves down to circle your clit, eliciting a breathless cry from your lungs.

With a few more tweaks of his fingers on your little bundle of nerves had you falling over the edge. Your back arched off the bed, a strangled cry falling from your lips as your walls started to flutter around Mingi’s cock. Mingi groaned loudly as he continued to pound into you, relishing in the lewd sounds that came from your spasming cunt.

“Fuck princess,” He chuckled, but was cut off as you squeezed him rather tightly, nearly knocking him over the edge as well, but he wasn’t quite ready yet. So he slowed his movements until he was completely still, allowing you to breathe for just a moment.

“M-Mingi…” You whined when he pulled out of your abused pussy, but you couldn’t help but feel empty and wanting nothing more than to have him stuff you full once more.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to beg him to fuck you full of his cum, he let go of your throat and flipped your body around until you were lying on your stomach. A gasp fell from your lips when he grabbed your hips to pull you up, lying on your knees and forearms.

“We’re not done yet, still gotta stuff my little slut full of my cum.” He teased your entrance with his tip once more, listening to your whines, “stuff you so full you’ll be lucky I don’t get you pregnant.”

A choked gasp fell from your lips as he slid into you once more, your cum and slick making it far too easy to do so. Your eyes rolling at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix with each thrust, making your whole body tremble from the oversensitivity.

“You would like that, though, wouldn’t you?” Mingi teased, hands gripped your hips tightly as he continued to fuck into you, “you’d look so fucking hot carrying my baby.” He groaned just thinking about how swollen your belly would get or how big your breasts would grow; the thought nearly made him bust then and there.

“Please,” You cry out, face muffled by the pillows as your tears stain the fabric under you. Your brain turns into mush as he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, making stars dance across your vision.

However, Mingi didn’t like how quiet you had gotten, wanting to hear every little sound you made. So he removed one hand from your hip to trail up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake, until he got to your head. He wrapped his hand in your hair before tugging upward, lifting your body, causing a loud whine to slip from your lips.

“M-Mingi, ‘s too much. I can’t—'' You cried out, tears spilling from your eyes. Your body felt overwhelmingly warm as another orgasm crept up your spine, tightening the knot in the pit of your stomach.

“You can, baby, I know you can.” Mingi’s voice turned soft, making your mind reel as your head fell back onto his shoulder while his hands fell back to your hips.

Your vision was going hazy as you wrapped your hands around his forearm, trying to ground yourself. However, when Mingi pressed down on the bulge in your lower tummy, that little band snapped, and you came all over his cock once more, silent cries falling from your lips as you went lightheaded.

“That’s my good girl, you did so good for me.” Mingi cooed against your head, hand moving up to your sternum to hold you close to his body as his own orgasm hit, spilling deep into your womb. His thrust slowed until they came to a full stop inside, plugging his seed in your still-tight hole.

Mingi pressed soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, waiting until your breathing evened out and you opened your eyes. Once your eyes were open, he pressed a soft kiss against the skin of your cheek.

“Let’s get cleaned up so we can eat dinner.” He whispered softly, trailing kisses along your jaw. You inhaled deeply, trying to focus your vision before nodding, allowing him to take care of you like he normally does.

After both of you got cleaned up and ate dinner, you were sitting on the couch, cuddled up under a blanket, watching whatever movie you both had agreed on. You lay against his chest, playing with his fingers that were wrapped around your waist.

“Princess,” His voice jolted you out of your thoughts, and you hummed, looking up at him. “Don’t ever be scared to talk to me about stuff like that, okay?” He told you, tightening his grip on your waist, pulling you further into him. “I want to make it enjoyable for both of us.”

You felt your chest tighten at the guilty look that crossed his face. Turning around, you sat on your knees in front of him, cupping his face in your hands.

“I will. I promise my love and don’t feel guilty, please.” You pouted slightly before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Mingi chuckled against your lips before closing the gap and sealing your lips in a gentle and sweet kiss.

The two of you then parted, and you lay on his chest, relishing in his warmth. Mingi wrapped his arms around you before turning his attention back to the TV, not quite tired yet. Once you fell asleep, he turned everything off and carried you to bed.

© 𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠