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#cream concrete
garadinervi · 4 months
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«Just Like Cream but Worst», No. 2, (25 sheets of white xerographic bond side-stapled thrice, leaf folded twice, all printed black photocopy), No. 2, Edited by Daniel F. Bradley, Toronto, 2021 [room 3o2 books, Ottawa]
Cover Art: Gustave Morin Contributors: Sacha Archer, Louise Bak, Carl Baker, Bill Bissett, Daniel F. Bradley, Hart Broudy, Michael Casteels, Judith Copithorne, Brian Dedora, Sam Kaufman, Gustave Morin, Alessandro Porco
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life-spire · 5 months
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spitefulcrepechan · 1 month
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This was technically a vent comic I made to kinda just put my feelings down in the form of the cookies I kin just kinda fooling around (its kinda smth i do often admittedly), though idk Ive been feeling better so imma show this to yall for you slags to enjoy
Be sure you provide evidence to your claims kids!! Otherwise keep your personal bias to yourself and don't cause bullshit!!!
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simplyghosting · 6 months
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Love looking at new packaging for products I buy and realizing they took out 2fl oz while increasing the price *drags hands down face*
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If you could describe your sidestep as a season what would it be?
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louisdelac · 1 year
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i literally love cream of wheat so so much, but good god is it the most dehydrating food in the world. to be related to my best friend cereal, but to contain none of its ability to impart liquid into my body...... life is full of little mysteries.
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gayemeralds · 3 months
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fucking crying im making a milkshake with some kinda rainbow birthday cake ice cream & milk and it just looks like fucking. concrete.
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kitasuno · 2 months
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to be loved is to be known | suna rintarou x reader
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you're in love with suna. you think suna's in love with someone else. he's not.
slight angst, happy endings, and miscommunications atsumu is sexy reader is gn wc: 1481
It is dusk and warm and just barely humid when you realize you don’t know Suna Rintarou at all. 
You know that Suna likes chuupets and volleyball and his dingy digital camera with the cracked screen. His left eye twitches slightly when he lies, he always ties his right shoe before his left, and he keeps forgetting to buy pencil lead despite preferring mechanical pencils over traditional. He likes the rain. Can’t bite into ice cream. Wool scarves over fleece, seven followers on his private Twitter, and is always late because he likes feeding the stray cats in the alley next to the Family Mart with the good sausages. 
What you didn’t know is that Suna Rintarou is in love. You find out from Kita Shinsuke, who tells Aran after practice, a conversation not meant for your ears but gracing them nonetheless as you stand before the entrance to the gymnasium. You feel a dryness in your throat and a sting in your eyes as Kita shares that Suna is not only in love but had confessed to someone. Maybe it’s your divine punishment for eavesdropping. Maybe it’s rotten luck. Because, coincidentally, and horribly so, you’ve been in love with Suna Rintarou ever since you met him. 
So when Suna walks up from behind you, back from the vending machine, and asks you why you’re lingering outside and staring at Kita with that look on your face, you lie. 
“I have a crush on Shinsuke.” You blurt out. 
He blinks. Once. Twice. And stares. 
The longer Suna stares at you under the grey, purplish-pinkish sky with his hands shoved into his pockets and his left eye twitching, you realize you don’t know him at all. Because Suna, in all his indifference and nonchalance, looks hurt. You see something flit beneath his eyes, but you’ve never been good at reading people. So you settle on the idea that it’s something less than betrayal but more than indifference, and you don’t know why your heart’s beating so fast and sinking, pitter pattering and twisting in your stomach. 
You feel sick. 
“You like Kita-san,” He says, and it comes out as a statement, not a question. He blinks a third time, and as the look in his eyes disappears as quickly as it came, you decide you much prefer the hurt or the discomfort or the something over the blank apathy that he’s looking you over with now. “You have a crush on Kita… Shinsuke.” He finishes, and you can’t hear the bitterness in his voice over the shrill of your heart. 
You’ve always liked Suna’s eyes but tonight you like the pavement more, and as you stare a hole into the concrete beneath you, you ignore how your feet are fidgeting and your palms are sweaty and how Rintarou is hovering over you. 
“Mhm,” You squeak, tearing your eyes from the asphalt with the cracks and an ugly pill-bug on the ground. As you look up to grey eyes and dark hair, you wish that loving Suna Rintarou was harder. 
“I’m, uh, I’m going to tell Shinsuke tomorrow.” You say, Shinsuke’s name foreign on your tongue compared to the warmth and honey that Rintarou’s tastes like. I’m in love with you and this is a bad idea, you think. I like you, not Kita, is what you don’t say. Instead, and arguably worse, is the mention of Miya Atsumu’s name. “Atsumu gave me the confidence to confess!” 
Suna pauses. 
“Atsumu told you to?” He asks, and it’s the most bewildered you’ve heard him in a while.
A glance at his phone. Hands that emerge from his pockets. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the concrete you would have seen the twitch of his fingers and the tightening of his jaw as he opens Line. You nod dimly. 
“Okay,” is what he says, and you feel your heart in your stomach again. You look up. “Okay.” He repeats again. 
And maybe it’s the hurt that stings in your chest from Rintarou being so okay with you (hypothetically) being in love with Kita Shinsuke that pushes your eyes to water and your mouth to open. 
“Is that it?” You ask. 
A beat of silence. And then, a scoff. 
“Yeah. Congratulations,” Suna says. “Good luck.” 
As dusk turns to nightfall and what was a barely-humid night in July is now overwhelmingly warm and sickly and hot, Rintarou’s gaze is overbearing. And when your eyes start to swim and Suna’s gaze turns to confusion and then realization, you do the only thing you know how to do. You bolt. 
An incessant string of dings. Your lip wobbles under your teeth as you pull out your phone from under your covers. 
from: miya osamu (21:03)  where the fuck did ya go  and whys suna blwoin up my phone
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:03)  WHYYSS SUNARIN BLOWING UOA PP MY PHONE ??!?@@>>!?>??!??! WHYS HE SAYIN U LIKE KITA-SAN
from: you (21:05) its so over i ran home
from: you (21:05)  i told him i like shinsuke and that i am confessing to kita  tomorrow
amazing perfect miya atsexy and miya osamu are typing…
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:06)  WHAT
from: miya osamu (21:06) r u fuckin stupid why would ya do that
from: you (21:07) i heard shinsuke tell aran that suna confessed to someone today and then rin came back so i told him i like kita bcuz i panicked and also he cant know i like him right as he’s ginna get BAGGED wait but idk if he got rejected or not WHO AM I KIDDING suna would NOT get rejected LOLOL but anyways i think he knows i like him bcuz i started cryig and then he had this look on his face like he knew i was bullshittin him now venmo me money before i kil msyelf 
from: miya osamu (21:12) yeah he was gonna confess to YOU today
from: you (21:12) ?
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:12) HOLY MISCOMMUNICATION
from: you (21:18) Wht??
from: miya osamu (21:19) suna was supposed to confess to u today 
from: you (21:21) but shinsuke said rin already confessed
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) why wiud u ever think about takin gossip from KITA SHINSUKE AN WHYD YA BRING ME UP IM GNNA BE STONED AT DAWN
from: miya osamu (21:22) HOORAY !
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) SHUDDUP  
You bolt, again, but this time it’s out of your bed, down a flight of stairs, and through your front door. You’re halfway down the street near the Family Mart with the Good Sausages™ when you barrell into someone who smells faintly of blackberries and Suna’s laundry detergent. 
“Excuse me,” You blurt, scrambling away, until you feel a grip on your waist and a familiar shape behind you with a familiar smell and a familiar voice, and Ohmygod, you’re out of breath and close to frantic but Suna Rintarou is holding you steady by your waist, warm and tall and here. 
“Rintar-”
“I like you.”
You feel it more than you hear it- Suna is muffled and quiet as he mumbles into the back of your shoulder, tall frame folded into you. 
“Idiot.” He adds, and you don’t have to turn to know the tips of his ears are pink and his eyebrows are furrowed. “You’re an idiot.” 
It’s twilight, and just-barely humid when you realize that Suna Rintarou knows you. 
Suna knows that you ramble when you’re nervous. He knows that you like the rain and you don’t like humidity. You carry extra lead in your pencil pouch and you like volleyball and stray cats. You can bite into your ice cream. You color coordinate your bookshelves. You don’t have a crush on Kita Shinsuke. 
You don’t know that Suna keeps his digital camera with the shitty cracks because you bought it for him from a shop in Akihabara. You don’t know that Suna leaves his packs of pencil lead at home because leaning over your desk in class and seeing that smile on your face is far more fun. You don’t know that he writes with extra pressure on his worksheets to crack his lead and ask for more. 
You didn’t know that Suna Rintarou is in love with you. 
So he grins into your shoulder and tells you.  
amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:14) 1 Attachment GROSS!!!!!! do NOT start making out at practice or i will RESIGN !!!
sunarin (22:14) @ y/n lets start making out at practice
y/n, miya osamu, and 2 others reacted with Thumbs Up! ojiro aran, amazing perfect miya atsexy reacted with Thumbs Down!
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:15)  @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE 
sunarin has removed amazing perfect miya atsexy from the Inarizaki Volleyball Team Chat. 
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drgnflyteabox · 2 months
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mdni - implied fat!reader x bluecollar!simon riley drabble - simon is a bit of a creep also lol
Bluecollar!Simon Riley whose house floods so he has to spend the next few days in a cheap, seedy motel
First morning there he's leaving for work just as the sun is rising. Its hot, humid, and he's a shitty mood because he'll be working all day and it's only gonna get hotter
Simon Riley who smokes a couple cigs before he goes, sitting on a plastic lawn chair on his concrete faux patio when he sees you
You're flustered, damp with sweat and skin sun-kissed. You've got a laundry basket on your hip and immediately he's imagining a baby there instead. His baby.
Simon Riley who's shameless about staring at you struggling with the laundry door, dropping your clothes and giving him a view of your wide hips and plush ass in very short pajama shorts
You're so flustered:(( nearly in tears while you pick everything up. The shorts are a little tight, a little worn, and the thin material gives him just enough of a view of your pussy that it sustains him the whole day :')
All he can imagine is coming back and sinking into you :') not even necessarily fucking right away, but keeping his cock warm and relieving the tension in his body. He deserves that, no?
He's not creeping, necessarily, when he takes note of the lotion you use. Vanilla. He just happened to be having a smoke and walking right by your window, where you've got one foot propped on a chair rubbing it into your skin.
Your room is tidy. Despite the stained walls, cracks in the ceiling and overall dingy-ness, you've managed to make it look cozy.
New sheets, a fluffy blanket, string lights strung across the wall. Beside you, lotions and creams and washes - he snorts a little to himself. The bathrooms here don't have any counter space or mirrors to set them down on.
But his house does. In fact, most of his shelves are empty everywhere. His pantry, his closets. The only thing he's got are work clothes and beers in the fridge. Maybe a stray heel of bread.
Simon Riley who decides he'll have you move in before he even talks to you, before he starts memorizing your schedule on the weekends and evenings he gets home. You're struggling, on the edge of homelessness, but he knows you'd be the perfect wife and mother. That you'd bring light and warmth to his house, fill those empty shelves and empty rooms...
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k-hotchoisan · 4 months
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backseat serenade
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<mingi x fem!reader>
Getting stuck in the backseat of your friend’s car after a night out with your drunk friends wasn’t how you thought of ending the night, especially not on Mingi’s lap.
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Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, forced proximity, technically exhibitionism but not because no one ends up noticing, fingering, light choking and wrist pining, riding, cream pies, orgasms, something is going on in the backseat…, furcoat mingi
word count: 3.3K (what the fucK)
a/n: y'all be eating fucking good fr. Also shout out to my loml @bro-atz for helping out with the plot a little <3 shout out to mingi brain rot!
taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie  @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess  @woojirang @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn  @voicesinmyhead-rc @woojirang @wlv-asteria @jjoongstar @comicnerd557 or @kpopwrites @vic0921
networks: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet
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“Who else is here?” You ask. 
She shrugs. “My boyfriend and a couple of his friends. You know them.” Well, you’ve definitely met a couple of your friend’s boyfriend’s friends before. Your eyes scan the crowd and sure enough, you spot familiar faces. 
And then your eyes rest on a particular male—his hair dyed platinum and slicked back, already drawing attention because of his height alongside his fur coat that hung over his shoulders. You never thought someone could pull off a fur coat that well actually. A pair of glasses sits on his nose bridge, which seems to somehow accentuate how sharp his eyes are. He’s been on your radar since he appeared on a mutual friend’s Instagram. 
“He’s pretty cute isn’t he?”, your friend’s date pushes, lightly bumping his arm against yours. 
You cast him a glance. “Just surprised that there are people who still wear fur coats in this economy.”
“That’s-“
“Song Mingi”, you reply, not taking notice of your friend’s boyfriend’s surprised expression. 
“You know him?”
“Came across him”, you reply a little too quickly. You sure as hell were not about to spill the truth. 
He definitely looks and is intimidating for sure, especially when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice so low that it tickles your ears. You could hear him talk forever, you think. You could imagine how he moans in your ears.
You blink. The fuck?
And so, for the past hour or so, you’ve been stealing glances at the blond male, but unfortunately, there was only so much staring could do, and it was not helping you get the male’s attention. Sure, the both of you actually followed each other (you were surprised when he followed you back), and the way he liked your stories sometimes made your stomach grow butterflies, but you never actually interacted with him in real life. 
It wasn’t until the party was slowing down, when you came back from being distracted by another friend, was when you realise Mingi was gone. A ping of disappointment fills you up, but it’s not as horrendous as the feeling of regret—for not just going up to talk to him. You wonder when you’ll see him again.
You decide to find your friend and call it a night.
“Do you wanna hitch a ride with us?”, your friend asks, uselessly trying to balance herself, her partner holding onto her waist. 
“The driver didn’t drink, I promise”, your friend’s partner assures. 
You open the car door and your eyes widen when you spot Mingi. 
You whip your head to your friend to ask her sincewhen Mingi came with the friend group but you realise you wouldn’t be getting any concrete answers from a tipsy person. 
You glance back at the male donned in the maroon fur coat, who seems rather surprised when he sees that you were the one who opened the car door. 
But Mingi’s expression remains indifferent—god knows what he’s thinking about but you swore you saw a tint of something in his eyes when your friends told you to just sit on his lap because “the car had no space”. 
“Hi, y/n”, Mingi’s deep voice calling your name is kept in a bottle and stored at the back of your head. 
“Hey Mingi”, you greet back, cautiously approaching him. 
“Are you okay with this?” You ask, testing the waters by putting your weight on his left thigh. 
“It’s fine. I’m just worried that it’s gonna be uncomfortable for you since it’s gonna take a while to reach your place right?”
Right. You nod in defeat. 
Your body jolts slightly when you feel Mingi’s touch burn against your skin—especially your thighs. 
His friend on the passenger seat has the aux cord and he’s picked out a song to blast in the speakers. You feel goosebumps bloom across the nape of your neck when Mingi’s voice hits your ear from behind. 
“Sorry, you might need to move in a little more, Princess. We have three more squeezing with us at the back.”
You blink, processing the information before internally thanking the universe that the car is dark so the red flushing against your cheeks gets hidden. 
Soon you find yourself fully on Mingi’s lap, and although you try not to lean too much against him, you realise the position feels awkward, and when Mingi personally shifts you with his hands instead, you decide to stay put. 
The energy in the car is high, even after all that partying, which you easily deduce to be due to the alcohol. Unfortunately, you couldn’t be singing along at the top of your lungs, not when you’re subconsciously aware that Mingi is just behind you. 
Sitting on someone’s lap was definitely not as comfortable as sitting on a car seat, and that was a given, so you find yourself shifting constantly, not realising Mingi closing his fists every time your ass shifts against him, particularly his crotch. 
Suddenly you feel the weight below you shift. Mingi’s arm wraps around your waist, his weight pressing against you. You stay put the moment you feel his lips barely inches away from the shell of your ear. 
“I strongly suggest you try to stay still, y/n, or it’ll become a problem for the both of us.” 
You turn your head slightly, barely enough to capture him within your peripherals. At first, you wonder if you’re starting to annoy him, but when you feel his hands slide down to your thighs and something hard pressing against your ass, you get your answer. 
And you wonder how far you should take this. 
Your face is heating up, at the idea you’re just sitting on Mingi’s thick erection, separated by the fabric of his pants and the ridiculously thin fabric of your body con dress. You wonder about his size, which only gets more vivid since you’re literally sitting right on his fucking cock—how thick he would be, how much he would stretch you open, and it’s making you slowly drench your panties. 
The more his erection is blatantly pressing against you, the more you can’t help but fidget on his lap. You’re wondering why Mingi hasn’t said anything, you wonder if he even felt it at all. The moment that thought forms in your brain, you pick out what sounded like low groans from behind you. Then you feel Mingi’s fingers press against your bare thighs, just this fucking close to lifting your dress. 
Mingi shifts against you, his hard cock now even more prominent against your ass—directly below your pussy if it wasn’t for the fact that there were layers of annoying fabric keeping them apart. 
His deep voice is like a melody in your ear,  “I’m closing an eye if you’re just doing this on accident, but there’s only so much more grinding I can take princess.”
You glance over to the company seated just right beside you—they are still singing their hearts out thanks to the self-assigned DJ of the car. The music was still blasting, and you realise you and Mingi are slowly forming another world—one growing of hot and heavy air. 
You’re trying to weigh your options and risks, but the constant friction of Mingi’s cock just poking you through his pants mixed with the light buzz from the alcohol earlier is keeping you less than logical. 
You lean back, the back of your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the thick coat tickle your cheeks, taking in the scent of his cologne that you swear only he could pull off, the boldness rushing into your veins like adrenaline.
“And if I said it wasn’t an accident?”
You don’t know what he might do next, but it’s making your legs tremble by the second. Your clit is fucking throbbing from the sheer anticipation. 
Mingi’s eyes dart to glance at you while his head remains positioned straight, before he presses himself onto you with a smirk against your ears, “Right. Glad we cleared that up, princess.” 
His hands press on the sides of your throat, two fingers tipping your jaw to turn your head to face him as he clashes his lips against yours, and you’re ready for him to just take whatever the fuck you have left. You’re doing your best to muffle your moans through the kisses, but as every second passes, you’re ready to give into it—mostly scream his fucking name into the night at this point. 
Your eyes are so glazed out, your pussy throbbing and drenched, your mind so sexually frustrated the more Mingi keeps you waiting. Mingi’s fingers trail along your bare thighs, his legs forcing yours to stay open, easily letting the gather of your dress push upwards, while his fingers push your panties to the side. You hear him mutter fuck when your wet cunt drenches his fingers. He barely drags his fingers over your clit, yet you already feel like you’re about to burst. 
“Are you gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” Mingi asks, sinking his gaze into yours. You swallow hard and nod, so fucking entranced by his sharp eyes behind the glasses, and alongside the fact that his fingers are rubbing circles on your clit. 
“Fuck me. You’re so fucking wet for me”, he hisses, eating up your moans as he fits his thick fingers into your pussy, filling you up instantly. Oh god. You feel your mind completely blank out at the sensation of Song Mingi stretching you out. 
You swear that the wet sounds of Mingi’s fingers fucking your sopping cunt were louder than the music, but for some reason, and thank fuck, no one else seemed to notice. Yet. 
His other hand clasps over your mouth as he watches your eyes roll back, your desperate and satisfied moans muffled every time his thumb presses against your clit while his fingers fill you up again and again. 
You shouldn’t have agreed to stay quiet. 
Mingi’s legs are strong as fuck because his knees keep your legs from snapping shut as you let the feeling build in your stomach. Your hips are involuntarily bucking against his fingers, craving for him to fuck his fingers deeper. Shit. You can’t seem to get enough. He releases his hand off your mouth for a while, letting it wander to your tits, rolling your nipples over your dress with his fingers, listening to you pant and whimper.  
“Can’t wait to fuck your tight cunt once we get off”, he mutters into your ear, increasing his pressure on your clit. 
“Please… fuck! Mingi…” you trail, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. But the knot tightens hard and taut. You’re about to snap anytime soon. 
“Cum on my fingers for me, y/n. Show me how your cunt is gonna feel like when my cock is gonna stuff you full.”
His hand goes back to clamping over your mouth to muffle your cries while your orgasm rips through your body. Your eyes roll back, and your back arched against his abdomen, the pleasure spreading through every nerve while he’s still fucking you with his fingers, enjoying the way you’re completely undone because of him. Your cunt can’t seem to stop spasming and it’s only from his fucking fingers. 
But it slowly wears off, and he releases his hand from your mouth, letting you catch your breath. 
His fingers slowly leave your spent and creamy cunt, and for a split second, you’re almost disappointed. You turn your head, watching Mingi slide his stained fingers past his lips, licking them clean, and his eyes locked onto you. 
“You taste so fucking good, Princess”, he whispers, before his hands are on your throat again, pulling you in for a wet kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue, your face heating up at his words once more. 
The split second you pull away from him is when the music stops, and you hear your name being called.
“Y/n!”
Your eyes widen, and Mingi lowers his knees, letting you quickly shut your legs, letting his arm rest close to your legs, blocked by his fur coat. Thank fuck you’re in the dark. 
“This is your stop right?” Your friend asks before she turns on the interior car lights. You glance at the apartment building and sure enough, it is your apartment building. 
“Right”, you manage to answer with a forced smile. 
And as you are about to leave the car, Mingi suddenly announces, “I’ll send her up. Don’t wait for me.” He takes off his fur coat, draping it over your shoulders, quickly turning away as he pushes the car door open, ignoring the suggestive looks his group of friends were giving him before curtly saying his goodbyes and shutting the car door. 
Mingi is pretty much gentle with you as the both of you head up to your apartment, asking if you’re feeling cold, even though he’s only in a black tank top. You can’t help but gawk at how he looks even under shitty elevator lights—still so fucking hot. His fingers haven’t let go of yours yet since the both of you left the car, and he sure isn’t letting you go when the both of you reach to the door of your apartment. 
You feel so ridiculous in this oversized fur coat, but the fact that Mingi’s smell is just all over it makes you turn a blind eye to it. 
You unlock the door, pushing it open, the post nut clarity hitting, but the realisation of Mingi in a private space with you sending you mind into the gutter. 
And suddenly you feel your cunt throb again. Fuckin hell. 
“Cute place you have there”, he comments, slipping his shoes off. 
“I try to make the most out of it”, you return, taking off the fur coat, handing it back to him. 
Mingi pauses, staying near the door.
“I got no clue why I left the car like that, y/n. If you want me to leave, I can just call a cab and-“ 
His mouth runs, watching the way you’re walking towards him, and his lips snap shut when you pull him in for an open mouth kiss, his thoughts completely disappearing like they never existed. 
“Finish what you started, Minki”, you whisper when you pull away. 
For once, you like the way red looks on his pretty face, the red that disappears when he catches on, eye fucking you while thinking how fucking hot you look under normal apartment lights than the dim lights. 
His hands cup the back of your neck before his fingers are on your scalp, tugging your hair to face him, letting his lips collide with yours. You taste him so much more intensely now, and fuck does he taste like heaven. 
You feel his hands leave your head, going for your wrists instead, and he backs you up against the wall, deciding to pin your fucking wrists against the wall while stealing all of the oxygen you have left in between pants. 
His fingers trail down so lightly across your skin, you feel like you’re about to combust. 
“Is the couch fine for you?” He asks. You nod, just internally begging him to do anything to you. 
His hands slip down to your thighs, carrying you up in his arms, kissing and sucking against the skin of your neck while he navigates through your apartment. When he does find the couch (rather quickly), he lets you fall onto it, watching the way your dress rides up higher to your hips, your soaked panties coming into view, and his cock growing hard once more. 
“You know, you’re honestly killing me with that dress”, Mingi comments, his fingers tugging off your drenched panties, almost salivating over your glistening cunt. “Had to hold back from just pulling you out and fucking you.”
Oh, fucking gods. 
“That’s why we’re here now, aren’t we?” You tease, watching his satisfied grin grow bigger. 
You can’t wait for him to fuck your brains out. 
Mingi squats, letting his face press against your bare cunt, giving licks up, his tongue pressing against your clit while holding your legs apart. He thinks your whimpers and begs are like a fucking symphony—and he could listen to them over and over again while he breaks you, over and over again. 
It doesn’t last long, unfortunately, because he feels like he’s about to burst the longer he waits, his cock bulging against the fabric of his pants. 
So Mingi unbuckles his pants, pushing them down along with his underwear, his thick and long cock springs from his apparel, wet and decorated in thick precum. He gives himself quick strokes, amused by the way your face is turning a soft shade of pink. 
His thick fingers once again hold your wrists above you, lining his cock up to your pretty hole and pushing himself in, his girth taking up all space instantly. You see stars splatter beneath your eyelids as his cock stretches you out—thick and heavy. 
“Fuck. Song Mingi-“ you cry out, struggling against his grasp. 
“So fuckin tight, princess. Fuck, you feel so fucking good”, he sighs, letting himself bottom out in you, relishing in the way your face completely contorts into pleasure when he’s fully seated in you. 
And when he starts fucking you, your eyes roll back—the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you switching off most of your senses. 
You sense his arms pining your wrists are growing tired, so you do your best to tap his arm, and Mingi lets go, watching you slide his wrist down to your throat. 
You sure know how to push his buttons. 
He applies pressure and it hits all the perfect spots. A choked moan escapes you while he fucks you dumb. 
“I’d love to choke you more, princess, but I really need you to ride me right now”, Mingi whispers, his fingers leaving your throat, and he pulls his cock out. 
You climb onto his lap, lining his cock before you push yourself down, his fullness knocking the wind out of you once more. 
“Are you gonna take all of my cum like a good girl?” He hums, wiping away the tears from your eyes. You nod weakly, biting your lip. 
“That’s my good girl”, he compliments, and it makes your heart fucking soar. Mingi bounces you on his cock, groaning at the way you’re squeezing around him. “Fuck, squeeze me just like that. God, your pussy feels so fucking amazing, princess.”
“Mingi, I’m so close. Oh fuck I’m gonna-“
Mingi only holds your thighs down, watching you shake, feeling your cunt just clenching down and flutter on his cock, cream seeping down his shaft, and he groans in your ear, keeping himself deep in your pussy, his thick cum flooding into your tight cunt, listening to you curse while he forces you to ride out your high. 
“So fucking good. Mingi…” you mutter through tears and hiccup, letting Mingi kiss your tears before he slowly pulls his wet cock out of you, satisfied at the way his cum slowly trickles out of you while you catch your breath. 
Mingi waits for your mind to slowly clear, and you climb off him, but your fingers stay interlocked with his. 
“We can wash up and order food if you want”, you say, trying to avoid the fact that you’re still flushing slightly considering Song Mingi made a wreck out of you. 
But he pulls you along with him. 
“An invitation to shower together? I’ll gladly fuckin take it, princess.”
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