[“Moaning like a bitch when he hit this 🐱” - Megan Thee Stallion on “Crybaby🫶🏾.”]

If someone walked past you and Yuta’s apartment, they’d think you two were watching an explicit film, when in reality it was the two of you in y’all’s shared bedroom.

Many would be surprised that he was able to make you as loud as you are right now— I mean when most see him he gives off this bitchy vibe, too sweet and fragile to even hurt a fly. But as of right now, you’d digress.

He was trying to be as gentle as possible, not knowing if your whines and moans were of pleasure or pain, so each drive he’d let out a shaky “s-sorry,” his plumped bottom lip trembling as soft whimpers leaves him.

He had your legs tightly pushed up into you, his head dropped as he refused to look in your gaze, not wanting to tap out too fast. His black hair sticking to his forehead as he slightly picks up his pace, making your squeals spur on louder.

“M-m’s-so sorry, don’ wanna— h-hah! Fuck, don’t wanna hurt you, baby..” He whimpers out, failing to slow down even though he wants to. As much as you want to reassure him that you’re loving how he’s treating you, you’re just simply too blissed out to correctly say a simple sentence.