Day 7 · Vista

You were living under the same roof, but it was becoming practically impossible to see your own boyfriend. The amount of stress you were both under at work was inhumane, and by the end of the day you would be so tired that the only joint activity you could do lately was passing out on the couch after dinner. While it was somewhat cute to encourage each other to hang in there a bit more, days turned into weeks and weeks were turning into fucking months now. The tasks to complete never seemed to end, and it finally caused Minho to snap really hard one night.

“FUUUCK this entirely!” he slammed his laptop monitor close and gave you a horrible start, “I’m taking you out tomorrow night and that’s it! I’ll punch your boss in the face if he bitches about some deadline again.”

“But baby, I really need to fini—”

“Did I fucking stutter? Don’t make me come into your workplace and fuck you in front of everyone, ‘cause I’ll do it,” he threateningly pointed his finger at you, “Tomorrow night. You’re dolling up for me, we’re spending the shit out of some quality time, then we’re fucking each other’s brains out. Is that clear?”

“Sir, yes sir!” you aggressively saluted him.

You were dying of guilt while getting ready the next day, still thinking about some spreadsheet to complete, but one thing you had learned throughout your entire relationship with Minho was to never doubt him. He was right—unless you made time for each other, there was always going to be some shit to deal with, and in the grand scheme of things, jobs were temporary but soulmates were forever. You were in dire need of being in each other’s meaningful company for an extended period of time, and you needed it now.

It was around 2 a.m. when you came home from an incredibly pleasant date, fully satiated, and almost trampling each other in the hallway for how much you were laughing. Minho fished for his keys in his pockets and turned to you, slightly slurring.

“And the grand finale the audience has been waiting for,” he finally managed to put the key in the lock, “This is where we fuck.”

“Stop it, I’m swooning,” you batted your eyelashes at him with a super deadpan voice, “Dude, at least try to put the moves on me!”

“Shit, we were supposed to do the tap dance first, weren’t we?” he cleared his throat and asked extra cornily while raising his brows, “Wanna come in for a nightcap, beautiful?”

“I don’t know. You seem to be the type to fuck and bounce,” you looked him up and down.

“Then let me rephrase,” he pulled you close from your waist, “Come in for a nightcap.”

“I don’t wanna put out on the first date.”

“Oh, you’re gonna,” he whispered into your ear, “I eat pussy on the first date.”

You burst out laughing and kissed each other, not giving a shit whether you were disturbing your neighbors or not. While you did have an amazing time, you were longing for comfort, so you immediately darted to the bedroom to get rid of everything that didn’t fall under sweatpants couture.

“Wanna try something different with me tonight?” Minho appeared behind you with a glass of water in his hand.

“Ooh, Minho’s Favorite Things,” you cheered while taking off your earrings, “What do we have on the menu today, sir?”

He placed the sweating glass on the vanity table and put his cold hands on your shoulders.

“I did something some time ago without asking you.”

“Oh my god, did you really get that slutty Santa costume? That was a joke!” you widened your eyes, utterly scandalized.

“First of all, I love you, but not even if you give me the best head known to mankind,” Minho unclasped your necklace, “Remember the night we got high?”

Your cheeks instantly started to burn. That night was… something else. 

Like many other couples out there, you and Minho also liked to experiment in your bedroom every now and then. The act in question wasn’t the problem; it was actually one of the vanillaest things you’d ever tried.

It was the fucking talk throughout the whole thing, and just thinking about the aftermath made you want to disappear.

“Can I choose not to?”

“Well, you can’t because I recorded it,” Minho suddenly declared, looking into your eyes in the mirror.

“You have permanent proof of it?!” you turned round, absolutely mortified, and held your head in between your hands, “God, this is so fucking embarrassing!”

“You came so hard when I called you mommy last week, but this is embarrassing?” he kneeled in front of you, not being able to help his teasing laughter, and earned himself a not-so-gentle slap on the arm.

“You know what you said to me in the middle of sex.”

“And you agreed if I remember correctly,” the more flustered you got, the wider his grin grew, “Very enthusiastically if I might add.”

“Yeah, no kidding! Now you know why I’m not watching that shit, Minho.” 

“It’s just sound! So what if you came hard to that?” he held your hands and kissed them, “I find it really cute.”

“You also find tarantulas cute,” you scoffed and jumped to your feet, “Listen, I’m not some marriage enthusiast or anything, okay? It was just—”

“Shh.”

He stopped you from spiraling with a soft kiss on your lips, instantly pacifying you on the spot. His hands were on your waist as if you were slow dancing.

“You know how much I love your body, right baby?” he slid the back of his hand down your cleavage, “You know how bad it turns me on when you touch yourself to me.”

His lips found their way to your neck, leaving a feathery trail, and your eyes instinctively closed as you leaned into his touch.

“You know how much I love making you feel good,” he softly spoke into your ear, “but I know my place. You know your own body better than I do.”

He was soothing the burn that rose from the pit of your stomach all the way up to your cheeks. Every kiss was like drops of ice-cold water, making sizzling sounds as they dripped on your skin, and it was turning into something much more pleasant.

“I want you to touch yourself listening to us,” he guided your hand under your dress, “And I wanna jerk off watching my girl. No touching each other.”

Well, damn, okay, you spreading in front of Minho and fucking yourself while he wasn’t allowed to do anything besides self-pleasure?

That sounded hot. 

“I can, right?” he asked, but he was already making you walk backwards towards the bed. When you nodded with his lips in yours, he got visibly excited.

“I promise it’s much hotter than what you make it out to be in your head.”

You brought out your go-to massager as Minho connected his phone to the speaker on your nightstand. You were a bit tipsy, but you still felt self-conscious as if the times you saw each other naked throughout the years did not concerningly overweigh your clothed appearances. He dragged the zipper of your dress down while softly kissing you, and you unbuttoned his midnight blue shirt in return.

He tasted like the ice cream brownie you shared at the end of your dinner.

“Close your eyes now,” he kissed the tip of your nose and laid you down on your back. You weren’t sure to what extent you were ready to relive that night all over again, but oh well…

Then he pressed play. 

“...won’t remember. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“You want us to have sex faded as fuck?”

Minho’s voice instantly filled your ears and extracted a soft giggle from your throat. Courtesy of the auditory aid right next to you, the night actually started replaying behind your eyelids like you were watching a tape. You could see everything clearly. It was in this very room. Minho was in his boxers, to the left side of the bed, and you were wearing nothing but his t-shirt. You would jump him fully clothed as it was, but the semi-erection he was flashing between his sprawled legs made you want to misbehave so bad.

“Even if we fuck for like five minutes, it’s gonna feel like hours. I wanna know what that’s like.”

“You’ve been asking for a lot of things lately, you know?”

“Stop bitching, Puddinginho.”

A shriek was heard from the speakers followed by peals of laughter. That was the moment Minho tackled you and trapped you under his frame.

“Wanna make out for hours first?”

You listened to the loud kissing sounds that accompanied your hums and grunts. You could practically feel Minho’s touch on you. It did feel like you made out for an hour straight that night, and even though you were burning alive with lust, you remembered how cozy and safe it felt in his arms. Between his lips. Under his body like nothing in this world could possibly harm you.

You started caressing yourself.

“You’re so beautiful. A fucking goddess.”

The kisses were interrupted by the rustle of sheets caused by Minho moving you closer to the nightstand for reasons you didn’t know back then as well as clothing being discarded. For a short while, all that was heard was your heavy breathing and his soft kisses traveling further down your body.

“Minho…”

Then the wet sounds morphed into sheer pornography in your ears. Minho’s tongue fluttering on your clit, loudly slurping on your entrance, open mouth kisses all over your folds, his saliva dripping everywhere… Your fingers weren’t even close to enough anymore, so you finally turned on the massager and pressed it on your clit.

“Would it be the worst thing if I became your baby daddy? We’re gonna hold your legs up like this so that it holds.”

Minho had pressed your legs all the way back to the headboard and ate your pussy in that position for quite a while. You started fondling your breasts remembering that. 

The present-day Minho, on the other hand, was drooling over your sight and squeezing the last drops of his sanity to keep his composure while trying to pace the rhythm of his strokes accordingly.

“You best believe my oral fixation is gonna get so much worse when I finally knock you up.”

“How much worse can you get?”

“A lot worse. You’ll be my breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I’ll follow you around and latch to your pretty cunt every chance I get. I heard creampies in bred pussies taste so much more delicious. We’ll test that hypothesis.”

It was right at this point that he started obliterating you. Bringing up impregnating you out of nowhere and holding onto it at all costs because of how violently you were reacting to him… You were throbbing embarrassingly hard in his mouth, and the down-bad talk was not helping one bit. You increased the intensity of the vibrations and started teasing your entrance. You could hear Minho’s breathing getting louder right next to you, and he was trying so hard to resist the urge to throw that goddamn toy to the side and fuck your wits out himself.

“You can come visit me at work if you crave me too much. Just barge into my meetings or whatever. I’ll stop the world to eat my pregnant wife’s pussy.”

Fucking embarrassing the way this was happening for the second time. You reacted as violently as you did then, loudly moaning at what he just said, and started fucking yourself way too fervently. Minho could clearly see how you were clenching to tighten yourself, and immediately picked up his pace to sync his rhythm to you.

“You like it that much, huh? Your taste changed.” 

“Stop that.”

“You taste like my future wife all of a sudden.”

“Stop saying that!”

“I fucking love it when you can’t even wait for me to come home. Teasing me the whole way back. Getting me hard in public. You love having this chokehold on me, don’t you?”

“Min!!!”

He was grunting and moaning into your pussy as his fingers slithered inside, stimulating the spongy texture you loved so much to his heart’s content. The pressure inside you was building to an unbearable level as you tried to replicate the exact same feeling, curving the massager a little upwards so that the tip would press on the same spot. 

“Come closer,” you panted and begged Minho, “I’m not gonna touch you. Kiss me. Just kiss me.”

As if he was waiting on standby, Minho immediately started devouring your lips, kissing you so hard your lips were getting swollen.

“You like that, baby? Right here, isn’t it?”

“God, I’m so close. Don’t fucking stop!”

You knew what was coming after this. Part of the reason you wanted Minho on your lips was so that he wouldn’t see your face because you were sure as fuck beet red like you were running a fever. 

But very much in vain.

“Open your eyes,” he urgently spoke, “Look at me.”

You could hear how fast he was pumping his cock into his palm, squelches eerily reminiscent of what he sounded like when he sank into your pussy.

“Marry me. Be my girl even after death do us part.”

“Yes.”

“Will you marry me?”

“YES!!!”

That night, you’d squirted on Minho’s face at the precise moment you heard that question. He didn’t even give a shit about how messy it was and just kept on fucking you until he got his own release. You had never seen something more erotic in your life than watching your cum drip down his cheekbones like beads of sweat.

When the sounds coming from the speaker stopped, your volume started getting louder. Minho couldn’t hold back anymore and came right on your clit, thick strings of cum slowly dripping towards your entrance. He carefully pulled the massager out of you, threw it to the side, and sank his fingers into you instead, just like that night, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you with your clit throbbing in his mouth.

“Almost… Almost… FUCK!” 

You relived that moment in the exact same magnitude, this time looking right into Minho’s eyes. Your fingers were sinking into your palms, your toes were dangerously curling to the point of spasm. Your entire body was convulsing like he was running kilowatts of electricity through your body. It took a while for you to come down, but Minho made sure your soul stayed intact, placing kisses all over your face, whispering little ‘I love you’s on every spot he left a mark on.

“Can you grab me some tissues, baby?” he eventually asked you.

You were so beat that you reached for the entire tissue box on the nightstand to your right in complete slow motion. When you turned back around, you saw the beautiful man you were madly in love with holding a black velvet box open, eyes glinting with pure adoration for you as brightly as that diamond inside.

“Will you be my girl even after death do us part?”

Exxxtraoddinary? Appreciate with a pudding.

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