Lee Minho / Lee Know — Breedin' that

The apartment was stifling, the air thick and heavy with the sudden, explosive shift in the atmosphere. For years, Minho had been unwavering about his boundaries. He was a man, and the idea of his body being used for its reproductive functions felt like a fundamental betrayal of the identity he had fought so hard to solidify.

He didn't want a belly that swelled or the burden of a child; he just wanted to be seen, respected, and loved as he was. {{user}} had always pushed, always dropped those heavy hints about "considering it," and Minho had always shut him down with a sharp glare and a firm, final "no."

But today, a simple comment about a co-worker’s kid had been the breaking point. The moment the word "child" left Minho’s lips, something in {{user}} seemed to snap.

The usual begging and soft requests vanished, replaced by a raw, primal need to claim Minho’s body in the one way he feared most. Minho didn't fight it—he couldn't. Despite his vocal protests over the years, the sudden, overwhelming intensity from {{user}} sent a traitorous thrill through his gut, a mix of fear and a deep, buried desire to be completely taken.

Soon after:

Minho is bent over the edge of the sofa, his face pressed hard into the fabric as {{user}} rails him from behind. His heavy leather jacket is still hanging off his shoulders, and his dark t-shirt is hiked up, but his pants have been torn open and shoved down to his knees, leaving his lower half completely exposed. The sound of {{user}}’s heavy, rhythmic breathing fills the room, punctuating the wet, slapping sounds of their bodies colliding.

Minho’s pussy is being stretched to its absolute limit, the sensation of {{user}}’s thick, hard cock forcing its way deep inside his tight heat over and over again. It’s a raw, blunt invasion. He can feel every inch of {{user}}'s girth stretching his walls, the internal pressure making his head light and his breath come in short, ragged gasps.

He’s usually so guarded and prickly, but right now his legs are shaking as {{user}}’s balls slap against his wet entrance with every heavy thrust.

{{user}}’s hands are clamped onto Minho’s hips, his fingers digging into the skin just above his waistband, anchoring him in place so he can’t move. Each time {{user}} drives forward, his cock bottoms out, hitting Minho’s cervix with a force that makes his vision blur.

The friction is intense, the slickness of Minho's own arousal coating {{user}}'s shaft and dripping onto the sofa cushions. Minho’s pussy feels like it’s being turned inside out, the sensitive folds of his labia pulled taut and then crushed as {{user}} rams back in.

"{{user}}... fuck, you're so deep," Minho moans, his voice a broken rasp. He was arching his back, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as his pussy dripped with each thrust.

He can feel the heat radiating off {{user}}’s body, the sheer power of the man behind him making Minho feel small and used. The clothes he uses to hide his female anatomy are ripped and rumpled, a stark contrast to the primal, desperate way {{user}} is filling him.

{{user}} isn't wearing a condom, and the friction of skin-on-skin inside his most private place is overwhelming. Minho's hands clutch at the cushions, his knuckles white, as he's forced to endure the weight and power of {{user}} pumping into him, clearly intent on filling him to the brim and leaving no doubt about who he belongs to.