#by echo

j.wy: Party at San's tomorrow night. 7pm, y/n's bringing cake.

p.sh: ??? All of a sudden

p.sh: Why not your place?

s.mg: Hwa and I live here too…

j.wy: Because I know that dorm is clean af but if you don't want to host a celebratory night for our hardworking Yunho then I get it. I was just trying to be nice.

j.yh: That's really not necessary, I don't want to burden anyone and make it a thing. We can just relax at mine and Yeosang's place, something lowkey!

j.wy: No offense but ya'll have like four pieces of furniture. It gives off serial killers not fun party vibes.

k.ys: Fully offended, actually.

p.sh: No no, it's okay we can have it here. Just some context would've been great…

y/n: You're lucky I'm off the next two days and I like Yunho. Watch ur back next time you volun-tell me what to do Jung.

j.wy: <3333 See everyone tomorrow!!!

------------

And that's how you ended up at the front door of Seonghwa, San, and Mingi's dorm with a homemade strawberry cream cake that was made earlier that morning. You shuffle the box with the cake inside into one hand and quickly knock on the door before grabbing it with both again.

Seonghwa opens the door with the sweetest smile and greets you, "I'm so happy you're here, let me take that for you." You extend the cake out to him, and he takes it, balancing it on one palm and pulling you into a side hug with the other arm.

"Please help, Wooyoung is here and needs to be tamed." He whispers in your ear before you pulling away.

You let out a short, loud laugh, "I don't know what i can do that you can't. You have hyung status, not me."

"Mm, you'd be surprised," he says as he pulls the door closed, "Cake goes in the refrigerator?"

You make an affirmative sound as you walk into the kitchen behind Seonghwa to see Wooyoung elbow deep in preparing some sort of dish and San standing next to him, helping by picking at various ingredients laid out on the cutting board.

"I heard you're being annoying." you say to announce your presence. Wooyoung looks up from whatever he was stirring in the pot on the stove with pinched brows that immediately relax once he sees that it’s you.

"She's talking about you, man." He throws his elbow into San's side and goes back to cooking, used to your jabs and never taking any of it to heart.

"No she's not, right y/n?" San pouts as you round the counter and wrap both your arms around his waist and squeeze.

"Of course not, Sannie. I would never." He wraps an arm around you and squeezes back. Swiveling his head to stick his tongue out at his friend. You unwound yourself from San and slipped from his grip over to Wooyoung and give him an obnoxious kiss on the cheek.

"You know I’m kidding Wooyo, just a little pay back for assuming I would be able to bake a cake with less than 24 hours notice." You assure him with a small, teasing smile.

"Oh I know, there isn't much I wouldn't endure to taste one of your cakes. Light shit talking is nothing." He smirks down at you.

Your eyes roll back on their own, "I’m flattered. Where's everyone else?"

"Mingi was taking a nap in his room. I think Honjoong and Jongho were at the studio working on something, but they should be wrapped up and close to being on their way here by now. Yunho and Yeosang were stopping to pick up alcohol on the way over." Seonghwa answers from the open refrigerator door. He pulls out a bottle of soju and holds it up to you with raised brows in silent question. You nod and he closes the door, moving to grab a couple of glasses to pour everyone a drink.

"Oh, Hwa let me pour it!" You move quickly to take the bottle from his hands but he pulls it up out of your reach and places a gentle hand on top of your head.

"Ah, ah. You're the guest. I got it. Go sit on the sofa, I'll bring it over." You pout up at him slightly but ultimately do as you’re told. As you’re crossing over to the living room a bedroom door in the small hallway off to the side creaks open and Mingi emerges.

He's dressed comfy, so unlike the flashy style you're used to seeing him in on stage and during certain schedules. The denim, leather, and metals of his on stage persona are replaced with comfy jogger pants and a soft black t-shirt. His dark black hair is fluffed and sticking out in wild directions. This Mingi, the cozy version, makes the butterflies in your tummy go crazy.

His eyes were squeezed shut as he yawns while walking into the living space, a large hand running through his hair making it more tousled than it was, the muscle in his biceps jumping with every rub. When he opens his eyes they land straight on yours.

"Well good morning princess" you smile at him as you fall backwards onto the couch. Mingi blinks a couple times as he looks down at you. You could see the gears turning in his head. "Don't be too excited to see me, jeez." You huff playfully, not hurt in the slightest knowing he's similar to you and needs a moment to reboot after waking up.

His expression immediately changes into one of regret for not making you feel welcome, "No! No, I was just thinking I should change," he takes another look at you and this time you realize he was assessing your outfit "I thought it was going to be more of a laidback gathering"

You looked down at your own outfit. It wasn't anything fancy, a black, oversized, zip-up hoodie with some silver embroidered designs and a very casual black skirt with built in shorts underneath. In all honesty, you struggled in picking an outfit for the night. Being around eight men with incredible fashion sense, who wore designer brands and were always styled to look like gods, it was a little intimidating when getting ready to see them. Even for a relaxed night in, Seonghwa was wearing a thin black long sleeve shirt with a pair of black wide leg slacks and a thin, pretty belt around his hips. San wore black denim jeans, a white collared, short sleeve dress shirt with the first two buttons undone and the dog tag Wooyoung got him for his birthday hanging around his neck. Even Wooyoung, who was dressed more casual in a hoodie and jeans, was decked out in his usual chrome hearts head to toe, his glasses and beanie included.

You tried to meet them in the middle, a skirt for something more dressy in case the guys pulled up looking like the idols they are and a zip up hoodie with a white, lace trimmed cami underneath to dress it down if they came dressed like they were coming to a sleepover. You figured it was safe.

"Oh please, I think what you're wearing is fine. Don't make me feel under dressed." You say to let him know his clothing choice got approval from you, not that he needed it. But he just grunted and turned back around into his room to change.

Seonghwa brought over the glass of soju he poured for you and a coaster for the coffee table and set it in front of you. He sat down with his own glass on the chair placed next to the sofa.

"How's the new job?" He asks carefully. You hum and grab the soju, taking a gulp and curling your legs under yourself and to the side.

"Ah, it's fine. The work-life balance is certainly better, I have more free time." you respond, almost somberly but trying to put on a happy face.

You used to work at the company for the guys assisting the hair and makeup department. It wasn't a super important position within the team, you didn't get to go to every single place that they've traveled to on tour, but enough to be considered lucky.

But after forming casual friendships with the guys, it caused problems and eventually led to you being pushed out. Rumors started, you were ostracized by some of the girls you worked with and had caught glances and whispers being shared between them whenever any of the guys came near you. Even if it was work related. And while you didn't get fired, it felt like the only option available was to resign. You didn't want to cause problems for any of your friends, especially when it came to their job.

Wooyoung still feels guilty for being the first to befriend you and getting the rest to become close to you too. You think that's why he doesn't put up much of a fight when you poke fun at him. Even though he wouldn't trade your friendship for anything in the world, he hates that you had to leave because of something as innocent as having a personality they all got along with.

"Hana got fired." San says from the kitchen. Your eyes grow wide, but you try to keep your shocked pleasure subdued. Hana being the one who caused most of the problems for you.

"San," Seonghwa warns.

"What? It's not a secret, she's not with the company anymore. She should know." San defends himself, drinking from his soju glass, which looked almost empty.

Which explains the loose lips.

"Oh, that's too bad." You say as nonchalant as you could.

Wooyoung was grinning like crazy as he turned off the burners on the stove, finished with his cooking duty apparently, "You're a shit actor, y/n" he laughs.

"I don't want bad karma. I hope she finds success. love and light and all that." You flick your hand out side to side as if shooing away the bad karma that Wooyoung was trying to cast on you.

Mingi comes out from his room once more, this time dressed in baggy distressed denim jeans and a white t-shirt. "Is y/n back on her spiritual bullshit again?" He asks as he plops down on the couch next to you.

You swear to god, up and down and left to right, that there was no attraction between you and any of the members while you worked at the company. It was a genuine, fun, casual friendship. But after leaving and hanging out with the guys more freely without others around, somewhere along the way you started to feel affection that was a little more than inappropriate for friends, especially for Mingi. And you tried to squash those feelings like bugs but they kept coming back. So you covered it up as best as you could and avoided situations where those pesky butterflies would return. And him sitting this close to you was not helping.

"It's not bullshit, you get what you give. I don't need any more bad luck coming my way." You defend and drink your soju, two gulps in a row instead of your normal sip.

“Just make smart decisions, then you won't have to worry about bad luck." He shrugs "Is there any alcohol left? or are the others bringing more?"

You scoff, opening your mouth to counter his rebuttal about luck but four rapid knocks on the door stole everyone's attention.

"Got it!" Wooyoung jogs over to the door to open it for the four remaining friends. A chorus of greetings erupted, so you got up alongside Mingi to say your hellos. You unfurl your legs from under you and plant your feet on the ground. As you stood up, probably too quickly for how you were sitting, static-y pin pricks of pain shot up your legs and you wobbled sideways. Before you could fall over the arm of the sofa and clear into the glass of the floor to ceiling windows facing the balcony next to the sofa, Mingi grabs both of your upper arms and yanks you away a little too aggressively. your face slamming into the hard plane of his chest with an audible "oof!" escaping your lips.

"Sorry! Sorry! I thought you were going to fall through the window and I panicked." Mingi apologizes, pulling you away from him.

Rubbing your nose you apologize back, "No, that was my fault. My legs fell asleep. I shouldn't have gotten up so fast. Thanks for being quick on your feet, glass would've hurt a lot more than rock hard muscle to the face."

Mingi's lips split into a shit eating grin, "You like my rock hard muscles you say?"

Your face flares with heat and you tuck your lips inwards, pursing them so hard the pain from your nose was momentarily forgotten.

"That is not what I said." You say with less confidence than you had hoped.

Mingi hums, "Might as well have"

"You're annoying," you deflect rather childishly but the neurons in your brain were firing error codes and you couldn't come up with anything clever enough to get out of the hole dug yourself. Sitting next to him was bad enough for your feelings, being pressed up that close to him was a whole other thing you don't think you could have ever been ready for.

"Is that anyway to speak to your savi–”

"Sangie! The blonde looks so good on you, you look like a literal ange!l" You cut Mingi off before he could double down and make a beeline to give Yeosang a hug.

"Oh thank you, it's been a while since I've bleached it so I was worried how it'd turn out." he hugs you back.

"If you can pull off the green and black combo hair, you can pull off anything." You assure him with a head pat. Something only you could get away with.

He gives you a smile, "I should put these in the refrigerator to get them cool." He says holding up the bag of drinks and walking to the kitchen.

You turn to Hongjoong and Jongho, giving them each a quick hug. “It's really good seeing you guys, it's been forever,” you tell them

"I know, it's good seeing you too. It's been non-stop touring, but I'm glad this worked out, as last minute as this was." Hongjoong returns your enthusiasm.

"Honestly if it wasn't for you coming, we might have come a little later. But we didn't want to miss out on seeing you." Jongho says. It makes your heart flutter, seeing as he doesn't openly offer straightforward, sweet sentiments like that often.

"If you had work to do I would have understood! I’m staying the night here anyways. I have tomorrow off from work so I can actually drink and I didn't want to worry about late night transportation."

"Well even better! Who knows when the next time we all get together like this will be. It's really no big deal, you know how I get. I can afford a night off." Hongjoong reassures, smiling wide, flashing those perfectly straight teeth, to make sure you knew he was being honest.

"That's what I like to hear Joongie, no work tonight!" You playfully shake your finger at him and turn to greet Yunho.

"Actor Jeong!" You throw your arms out and Yunho accepts your invitation for a hug, wrapping his long arms around your shoulders while you circle his waist. You look up at him, "Seriously, you're great. I was prepared to lie to your face, but I don't have to. What a relief. According to Wooyoung I’m a shit actor."

Yunho laughs and breaks the hug to scratch the back of his neck, "Thank you, it doesn't get any easier to hear."

"Mm so humble," you tease "Lemme pour you your first drink for the night!"

"I won't say no to that." You turn and begin walking over to the kitchen with Yunho, pausing briefly at seeing the look on Mingi's face.

His eyebrows are drawn in, scrunched in the middle like he’s concerned, but his lips are twisted in a half pout, staring at you and Yunho. You give your own look of confusion back to him with a tilt of your head, which seems to snap him out of it and make him refocus his attention on the conversation happening with Yeosang and Wooyoung.

You pour Yunho's drink and grab your cup to pour yourself a little more. Between the physical contact with Mingi and the weird look he was giving you, you needed something to ease the racing thoughts you were having. Nothing good came from overthinking.

Eventually everybody made their way into the living room and set up around the large coffee table. Wooyoung brought over the various side dishes he was preparing when you got here. Conversation and banter flowed between food and drinks, San flushed red in the face and laying his head on your shoulder where the two of you were sitting on the floor in front of the sofa.

You knew it was time to pump the brakes on the drinking when San mentioned truth or dare.

"Absolutely not, are you serious? It always gets out of hand." Hongjoong objects.

"Come on! We'll play nice. You're just worried about what will come out in front of y/n." Wooyoung says from your other side.

Hongjoong's lip curls up, "No, if anything I'm worried about what you will make her do."

"Nobody will make me do anything I don't want to, and now I wanna know what kind of dirty secrets you guys have that you don't want me to know about." You argue back, making him groan and rub a hand down his face.

"She's agreeing with Woo, cut her off." Jongho says while getting up, pretending he was going to grab your glass. You move it away with lightning speed and wrap your arms around Wooyoung's shoulder, only spilling a little liquid on him. Wooyoung puts his hand on the forearm you had resting across his chest and pointed a finger at jongho, "Let her have fun!"

"This is Yunho's celebration, he should make the call." Seonghwa offers, an attempt to keep the peace.

Yunho shrugs, "I mean, she has a point. Nobody has to do or say anything they don't want to. I think it'll be fun." He makes eye contact with you from across the table, speaking to you specifically "If anyone makes you uncomfortable I'm sure we can all come up with a fitting punishment."

"Fine, fine. San you go first since it was your idea." Hongjoong says exasperatedly, taking a sip of his drink.

"Sangie, truth or dare?" San asks with zero hesitation.

Yeosang sighs, "Ah, how'd I know?" He contemplates for a moment then says "Truth."

"What member do you love the most~" San asks in the voice he uses when he wants affection. Yeosang’s sigh signifies this is a question brought up frequently when they drink.

"You, of course." He answers, knowing it's better to give him what he wants lest he makes it a big deal. You giggled, it was cute how affectionate they were towards each other without making it weird even if Yeosang plays it off like he doesn't care.

"Seonghwa, truth or dare?" Yeosang asks.

"Dare." Seonghwa says while dramatically taking a sip of his drink, letting out a loud, exaggerated ahhh afterwards.

"Speak in satoori for the rest of the game."

"That's not even a proper dare! He does that when he drinks anyways!" Mingi exclaims while gesturing wildly to his hyung. Yeosang just shrugs, obviously not going back on his request.

For a while the game kept going like this. Light hearted truth questions and easy going dares that didn't require so much effort. But it was only a matter of time before the liquor caught up to everyone and it took a turn.

Especially with the way San has been drinking. Which in comparison to everyone else has not been a lot, but for him it was enough.

"Yunho! Truth or dare?" San shouts.

"I'll do truth this time." He responds, jokingly rubbing his ears from San's volume.

"What's the kinkiest thing you've done?" Came San’s out of character question.

Definitely wasted, then.

"Finally! Good one, San!" Wooyoung exclaims, obviously pleased with the turning point of the game. He reaches his arm around your back and gives San two hard slaps on the shoulder.

"Ah, jeez." Yunho's ears spark a bright red immediately, eyes flicking to Mingi so quickly it was almost impossible to perceive if you weren't sitting right in front of him like you were.

You raise your eyebrows, your own smirk pulling up the corner of your mouth.

"I mean, I dunno. That’s subjective, right?" Yunho laughs awkwardly.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to, remember." Hongjoong reminds him. Which causes groans and boos to come from the two on your side of the table.

"Well, I’ve been in intimate situations where there was more than just me and the other person." He eventually says.

"Just say threesome." Jongho laughed.

"With who though?!" Wooyoung immediately starts grilling Yunho, practically throwing his body across the coffee table.

"Can't say, you've got a big mouth." Yunho shuts him down quickly.

You couldn't help the giggle that came out of your mouth. You're used to seeing Yunho take control of situations, uplift the mood in the room by doing things no other idol would even think of doing even in private. So seeing him so timid about anything was amusing.

Yunho clocks you from across the table and his demeanor shifts. His eyebrows rise up and he throws a devastating, teasing smile in your direction.

"Okay giggles, Your turn. Truth or dare?"

Feeling brave, and quite certain Yunho wouldn't make you do anything off the wall, you answer "Dare."

His eyes roam over you before rolling up to the ceiling, humming before snapping his neck down and facing you again.

"Do a couple’s shot with Mingi." Yunho grins, nodding his head to Mingi who was sitting to his right.

You click your tongue against your teeth, "You guys have some weak ass dares tonight." You get up and grab your glass, walk over between Mingi and Yunho and kneel on the floor. Once settled, making sure your skirt still kept you modest, you face Mingi, whose face was pink and all of a sudden looked nervous.

Oh.

As if the look on his face held the key, the memory of being held so closely to him merely two hours ago was unlocked and suddenly you weren't so sure that this dare was as weak as you thought. You look over at Yunho, who just raises his hand palm up out to you and Mingi, "Well, go ahead. You gonna do my 'weak ass dare' or what?"

You squint at him, and then turn back to Mingi, "You okay with this?" You ask to make sure you weren't overstepping.

"Yeah, of course. Gotta show him his dare ain't shit." He says a lot more confidently than what you would've expected considering his face seconds ago.

You rise up on your knees to match his height a little better, even though you still came up short an inch or two. "Scootch down, you're too tall." You order, taking the hand not holding your drink and pushing his shoulder lightly. He gets the memo and leans back, bracing his empty hand on the floor behind him.

"Thank you~" you hold up your drink to him and he does the same, twisting your arms around one another until your hand comes back to your lips. Your faces were closer than they have ever been to each other and it made your heart beat wildly in your chest. Before you could chicken out you began counting down, "Three, two, one..."

You tilt your head and do your best to get your lips to meet the edge of the glass and drink, but some sloshes over the side down your chin, neck, and chest. The ice cold liquid came as a shock and a "mmff!" made its way out of your mouth. The closeness of his face to yours suddenly was too much and you pull back gently so you wouldn't make him spill too.

Your arms unravel from each other and you place your glass on the coffee table before grabbing a handful of napkins and drying off what had spilt on you.

"Sorry, I tried my best to help get it in your mouth." He said sheepishly, to which you snap your head to him. He clearly didn't understand his own innuendo because he looks genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay, it’s really Yunho's fault anyways when it comes down to it." You reassure, turning to face said man, "Happy?"

"Oh yes, ecstatic you could say." he says, biting his lip and holding back a laugh.

"Whatever, it's cake time anyways." You push yourself off the ground and make your way to the kitchen. Before getting the cake out of the refrigerator, you grab a clean kitchen towel and try to dry off your tank top a little better.

You feel a little guilty for abruptly leaving like that and ending the game. It wasn't even like you were mad at Yunho, you were mad at yourself for getting so easily flustered. You've had no trouble hiding feelings from them before. Did skin to skin contact with Mingi really just open up a floodgate of unchecked emotions? And Yunho! He always gets a little mean when teasing the guys but it's never been aimed at you. But after being on the receiving end, why did you find it so attractive? What the hell is wrong with you?

"Are you okay?" Seonghwa asks from beside you, causing you to flinch "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He reaches out and rubs your arm.

Looking up to him you gave him a soft smile, "I'm fine, really. I know how he can be, I egged him on calling his dare weak. I knew he wouldn't like that."

"Still," Seonghwa hummed, grabbing utensils out of the draw next to you for the cake. "It's no excuse, if he made you uncomfortable then I can talk to him."

"Thanks Seonghwa but I wasn't uncomfortable, pinky swear." you hold out your pinky and he hooks his own around it, deciding to let it go for now.

You take the cake out of the box while Seonghwa grabs plates and together you walk into the living room.

"Oh my god, finally!" Wooyoung groans.

"It looks so good, like a professional made it." Yeosang compliments. You place the cake in the middle of all the alcohol bottles on the coffee table, nudging some out of the way to make it fit.

"Thanks, Yeo. You get the second slice for that." you tell him, to which he gives a little exclamation of happiness and fist pumps to himself.

"No faiiiir, y/n." San, who was now hugging a throw pillow to his chest.

"I'm sorry San, flattery will get you everywhere though." You slice into the cake, cutting a piece for Yunho and serving it to him on a small dish. He offers you a thanks to which you respond with a dismissive flick of the wrist to let him know it was no big deal. Once everyone was served you settled down onto the ground with your own slice and spooned a bit into your mouth.

Conversation went back to normal, talking about what they were going to do with their day off tomorrow, choreography changes, and dramas they wanted to catch up on. You sat in silence listening in and giving a nod or hum in agreement to let them know you were present.

But your mind was racing with thoughts. Thoughts that made sitting between Yunho and Mingi feel stifling. You thought of how you've never been this close in proximity to Mingi before today. Not once, but twice. And how that close proximity felt comforting, safe, and exhilarating all at once. How his grip on your arms felt so strong, like holding you in place and keeping you there would cost no effort for him whatsoever. How it would feel if that grip were focused on your wrists instead–

Nope.

Your face was on fire, you felt it. And knowing that made you all the more embarrassed. As subtly as you could, you shake your hair over your shoulders to shield your cheeks away from the eyes of everyone in the room and concentrate on thinking of literally anything other than the man next to you.

"Are you okay? Your cheeks are so red, did you have too much to drink?" Yunho's voice shakes you from your thoughts and you feel the hair brushing your cheek move. You whip your head to the side in time to see Yunho's hand fall back into his lap.

Lifting your hand up to your cheek you reply, “I didn't think I did, but I guess so. My nose is a little numb.” You scrunch your nose to try and sell the lie. You weren't anywhere near as drunk as you wish you were, but there was no way you could tell Yunho that you were thinking about his best friend pinning you down and putting you through a mattress.

Yunho nudges a bottle of water towards you with the tips of his fingers, which you gladly take. Truthfully, all you wanted was to get your buzz back. At least then you wouldn't be so self aware of your thoughts and feelings.

—------------------

Another bottle of soju later, your mind finally rights itself. Well, maybe not right to a sober person, but the self consciousness of your mind being read by any of your friends finally disappears. The food, bottles, and dishes have been cleared from the coffee table and cleaned up thanks to a sobered up seonghwa and not so much thanks to you and Wooyoung. What started as the two of you trying to give the host a break from cleaning turned into a dish soap bubble war that made more of a mess and resulted in Wooyoung getting escorted back to his dorm by his roomies.

“It feels like you’re being arrested.” You giggle at the sight of Hongjoong holding one of Wooyoung's arms in a firm grip and Jongho holding the other.

Wooyoung's lips tilt up in one corner, “It's a consequence of being the life of the party. Sorry I’m too much fun.”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, “Say your good nights, it's off to bed for you.” he says tugging at Wooyoung's bicep.

“Aye aye Captain, goodnight y/n~ Thanks for being fun.” He punctuates his farewell with a glare to the man on his left.

“Bye bye~” you sing back, giving a hug to all three of them before they drag Wooyoung out like a criminal.

“I'm heading out too. Thanks for hosting, Seonghwa. Thanks for the cake, y/n.” Yeosang says as he starts to put his shoes on. “You coming or staying?” he directs his question at Yunho.

“I think I’ll stay for a little bit, if that's okay?” Yunho replies, turning his head to Seonghwa who was currently supporting a slumped over San.

“Of course. I'm taking San to bed, and I'll probably turn in right after. Make yourself comfortable.”

“See you tomorrow then, night guys.” Yeosang gives a one handed wave as he leaves the dorm, the rest of the room echoing back a good night.

Seonghwa readjusts San’s arm around his shoulders and looks over to Mingi, “If you're staying up too are you okay with her taking your bed?”

“Already planned on it,” Mingi responded while absent mindedly flipping through the channels on the tv, settling on a low stakes comedy for the three of you to watch.

“Good,” Seonghwa nods, then turns his head toward San, “Let's get you to bed, light weight.” and starts lugging him back towards his bedroom.

Yunho lets himself fall back onto the opposite end of the sofa Mingi was on, leaving a space open in the middle for you to sit. You try not to dwell on the meaning behind his choice of spot, if there were any meaning at all. Did he find it weird to sit right next to Mingi? No, they've been friends forever. You think they've shared a tooth brush once because the other forgot one on tour. Did he pick up on your inner spiral over the feelings you've been having towards mingi and trying to torture you? The first part, impossible. The second part, entirely possible.

Well, so much for not dwelling.

“Are you going to watch the TV standing? Or are you going to sit on the sofa like a normal person?” Mingi questions from his corner, socked feet already propped up on the coffee table with a throw pillow on his lap.

You curl your lip in mock annoyance, “God forbid a girl thinks about where to find a blanket around here. I’m getting cold.” Wow, so a liar with an attitude huh?

“Inside the basket next to the media console.” Mingi grumbles out. You went over and dug out a thick, grey knit blanket out of the wicker basket, before curling up in the empty middle seat.

However, sitting up right with nothing to lean on was not very cozy. You find yourself constantly adjusting your position to get comfortable enough to relax. It seems on your 6th attempt of uncrossing your legs and moving them to the side Yunho has had enough. Large, warm hands grab each shoulder and pull you down onto your side in a quick motion, your head colliding with the firm muscle of Yunho’s thigh.

“What the-” your eyes shoot open wide and you tilt your head up to stare at Yunho in shock.

“You wouldn't stop squirming.” he shrugs, sparing you only a quick glance before looking back at the TV. You stare at the sharp shape of his chin and jaw from below before dropping your head back toward the TV. You should move, you know you should. This is a much too intimate position. And while you were close with the guys, you weren't casual-cuddle-pile-on-the-couch close.

You shift your hips down the length of the couch a bit so they are angled in a less straining position, your legs still dangling off the front of the seat still covered by the blanket. You take a deep inhale and exhale hard through your nose, if you're being honest this is more uncomfortable than sitting upright. You tense your body, readying yourself to sit up and tell them you’re going to bed, but another pair of large hands wrap around each of your ankles and pull them up and straight across the couch, over another pair of thighs.

You hadn't even registered Mingi’s movement of bending over to gather your legs into his lap, too floored by the situation you've found yourself in.

You press your palm on the sofa cushion and push your upper body up to look over at Mingi, eyebrows raised high and lips parted in confusion.

Mingi smiles, biting his bottom lip like he was trying to stop himself from laughing at your baffled expression, “You looked uncomfortable like that.” he said with a quick rise and fall of his shoulders.

“I mean- I, yeah. But I-” you sound like a complete idiot, stuttering out what wasn't even a semblance of a thought. Yunho's hand came around behind your head, his thumb resting along your jaw under your ear and the remaining four curling around the front of your throat, his palm pressing down on the side of your neck to ease your head back down on his lap.

“It's okay, just relax.” Yunho says in a hushed voice, trying to calm your obvious anxiety. The fingers on your throat pull back to run through your hair behind your ear. Blunt nails scratching your scalp in sweet, caring strokes. Your muscles relax and your breathing turns to normal, completely folding in response to a damn head rub.

While Yunho scratches your head like you’re a well behaved puppy, Mingi begins giving your ankles, calves, and shins firm squeezes and rubbing them with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Is this okay?” He whispers.

You hum pleasantly in response and breathe out a “Yeah, you're so good at that. Both of you,” in response.

You felt the body under you shake, “You always get so pliant being pet like this?” Yunho asks through a laugh.

“Don't say it like that, weirdo. I just–” you cut yourself off. Can't very well say “I haven't been touched like this in forever.”

“Just what?” Mingi asks, running a hand up your calf and pressing his thumb into the ditch behind your knee. You squeak and reflexes have your leg kicking out of his grip. Mingi laughs at you, grabbing the leg that freed itself and putting it back in its original spot in his lap.

“I just feel very relaxed.” You decide to say, settling on a half truth. Leaving out the other feelings you're having. The ones that make your stomach knot up at the way they're verbally teasing you. At the way Yunho said pet like he also feels like you’re his lap dog. At the way Mingi sounded almost mean when he laughed at you.

Oh this is so fucked.

“Whatcha thinking about in there?” Yunho’s fingers stop their soothing motion in your hair and taps his pointer finger to your temple instead.

You flop onto your back, the back of your head still nestled in Yunho’s lap and socked toes pointing to the sky with your calves across Mingi’s thighs.

“What are you two doing? You're acting weird.” You question, eyes flicked between the two of them from your prone position.

“Says you. You're the one who has been weird all night. You've been in your head since everyone got here and acting like if you get close to me I’ll bite.” Mingi says, leaning over you to look you in the eyes better. You move to turn your head away. For all the lying you've been doing tonight you can't look him in the eyes and do it. But before you can fully turn Yunho’s hand cups you under your chin and squeezes his thumb and pointer finger on either side of your jaw.

“If you're going to lie, at least look him in the eye and do it.” Yunho says playfully in contrast to the grip he has on your face.

Mingi looks up at Yunho and then back down at you, “Do you want us to stop?”

You shake your head as much as you can in Yunho’s grip, “No.”

Yunho’s thumb starts gently stroking your cheek, “Do we have your permission to keep going?”

You gulp hard enough that you’re sure they can hear the sound of your throat clicking as you swallow, “God, yes. Please.”

Mingi smiles wide and yanks the blanket off of you, throwing it over the arm of the sofa behind him, “You’ve been a blushing mess since I saved you from eating glass earlier. At first I thought you were just embarrassed, but then you got all snippy with Yunho for his dare. We’ve been friends for years, y/n. I can read you better than you think.”

Heat spreads from your chest, to your neck, then to your face at the thought of him seeing right through you this entire time. With your heart thumping wildly in your chest you ask, “What do you think it is you're reading?”

“What I think,” Mingi begins, taking an ankle in each hand and pulling your legs apart so he could twist his body and slot himself between them to lean over you, “is that you're having some big feelings that you're embarrassed about when all you gotta do is talk to me, baby.”

Your breath hitched, already knowing where this conversation was going but being dumb enough to think he wouldn't say it out loud. This is Song Mingi, if there's one thing he’ll do it's state the facts especially when it's uncomfortable.

It felt like electricity was thrumming through your whole body, oddly enough finding excitement in being called out so blatantly rather than embarrassment. At least you didn't have to bring it up, not that you ever planned on it, they were bringing it up for you. Your eyes left Mingi’s and flicked up to Yunho’s.

“Well? Is he literate in the genre of y/n body language or ya gonna lie again?” Yunho asks with a nasty smirk.

You push your bottom lip out and pout, “Don't be mean, Yu.” Which got you quick, barely there tap from the four fingers on the other cheek from the grip he still had your face in. “Answer him.”

“What if I say yes?” You whisper, looking at Mingi again. He could feel the vulnerability in your words, so he softens his features to show you this wasn't a game. He’s being sincere. He brings his hands down on either side of your shoulders, finger tips touching the side of Yunho’s leg that you were using as a pillow and brings his perfectly plush lips right over yours.

“Then I’d ask if you'd want to let go of reason and play with us tonight?”

Instead of a verbal answer you decide to let your actions speak for you, reaching up to grab the back of his head, fingers grabbing at the soft, black strands. You bring your legs up and around his hips, squeezing him between your thighs and sticking out your tongue to swipe it across Mingi’s lips, punctuating it with an innocent peck.

You almost can't believe how bold you were being, but the entire night felt like being stuck in a pressure cooker of unspoken attraction. If they were offering a night to let go of reason, who were you to deny? Consequences be damned.

Mingi laughs from deep in his chest, “I think I know what your answer is, but I need words pretty girl.”

You groan at his words, “Yes. God, yes. Please.”

Now having the permission he needed he dives down, his tongue meeting your lips before his own does, licking between the seam of them before you can even open your mouth. When your brain finally reconnects, you give him the access he's looking for, opening your mouth and filling the living room with the sounds of wet, messy kisses, and tasting the mix of alcohol and frosting on his tongue.

Nothing could have prepared you for how fucking good his lips feel. Big, soft and completely covering yours. Devouring them like he's been waiting his whole life for this moment. The feeling of his hand rubbing its way under your cami makes your stomach tighten, legs twitching at the way his fingers span across your entire abdomen. His finger tips flex and he drags his nails lightly down the length of your torso while his tongue is practically licking down your throat. You arch your back at the sudden tickle it gives, one hand flying backwards to grip onto anything to ground you in the midst of all the sensations.

A deep grunt and jerk from under your head reminds you of the other presence in the room. You reluctantly turn your head away from Mingi’s, which doesn't seem to bother him from the way he continues to kiss across your cheek and down your jaw, and look up.

Yunho’s already looking down at you, eyes dark and hardened, the face he makes when he's trying not to seem affected. Your eyes flit down to your hand and his facial expression finally makes sense, the placement of it happened to be right over the hard bulge in his joggers.

“Sorry,” you breathe out the apology, oxygen deprived from being kissed stupid by his best friend. The muscle in his jaw tenses, he grabs the offending hand with his own and pulls it away bringing your other hand from Mingi’s hair together in one of his hands and holds them stretched over your head.

“You look like you're about to lose it,” Mingi says, lifting his head from your collarbone, where he was pressing small kisses, to look at Yunho.

You couldn't hide the anticipation you were feeling even if you tried. Your heavy breathing very apparent from the dramatic rise and fall of your chest. The way you’re pretty sure you haven't blinked since looking up at Yunho. You didn’t even want to think about what you must look like right now, probably flushed a crazy shade of red if the heat you feel beneath your skin is anything to go by and hair knotted beyond repair from the whiplash of looking between the two of them.

You tug against the hold Yunho has on your hands and he immediately lets go, mainly holding them out of the way rather than trying to restrain you. You push yourself up on your elbows to lift the upper half of your body up, forcing Mingi to fall back and sit up on his knees.

“I think he feels left out,” Mingi says, moving his hand from your stomach to rubbing up and down the dip in your waist. You relax the muscles in your neck and drop your head backwards, pouting back at Yunho, “Is that true?”

He clicks his tongue against his teeth and lolls his down to look at you, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re getting your soul sucked out through your mouth by my best friend while using my leg as a pillow, any sane man would feel left out.” he says, wrapping a fist around the length of your hair that’s flowing down into his lap and tugging your head back more so he can bring his lips to yours. You groan at the added discomfort, but anticipation of what he’ll do next keeps you from protesting.

“‘M sorry,” you say again, but he doesn’t respond. Doesn’t do anything except hover his mouth over yours. You feel Mingi’s hands move to either side of your waist, the skin exposed from your cami riding up over your belly button, his thumbs running up and down your stomach while the other four are curled around your waist and resting on your lower back. “Why don’t you show him how sorry you are? Let your actions speak for you baby,” he suggests.

You don’t even process getting up, but your knees hit the hardwood floor quickly, too focused on the building excitement to feel any sort of discomfort from the impact. Nestled in between Yunho’s widely spread legs you grab his knees and bend forward dragging your hands up his thighs.

“Don't be a tease,” he chastises you from above. His hands come up to cup your cheeks and pull you forward, forcing you to lift your butt off the backs of your calves. He brings his head down to meet you half way and gives you a barely there kiss, pressing his pretty lips to yours lightly before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to,” he whispers, locking eyes with yours. The hardened look that held dominance and self control has softened into something sweet. Conveying a promise that everything that happens tonight is up to you and only happens because you want it to.

You splay both open palms against his chest and push him backward until he gets the memo and falls into the back cushions of the couch, “What happened to that rough attitude?” You drag your hands down the black tank top he’s wearing under his flannel and grip the edge of his joggers and boxers together with both hands. “I wouldn't have dropped to the floor like that if I didn't want to,” you reassure. You want to make sure he knew that you were excited, but couldn't pass up the opportunity to press his buttons. The hair pulling, face grabbing, even the light smacks he gave your cheek earlier had your body vibrating. You want to see what else he would do to set your attitude straight.

Yunho puts a hand on your head and tries to hide an amused smile, the corner of his mouth twitching, “Well, if that's how you want it, by all means,” and gave your head a push, nudging your face closer to the imprint of his dick that was now clearly obvious through the fabric.

You tug the fabric covering him down to his thighs, enough to free him. Unsurprisingly, he was proportional to his height and big, dumb, sexy hands.

“How annoying,” you sigh and wrap your hands around the base of him, letting your hand feel the warmth and smoothness of the skin there, “You’re already the tallest, have the best luck, and are naturally good at most things. Now I find out you got’a big dick too?” Before he can say something obnoxious in response you let your tongue connect to the big vein running underneath and lave its way up to the tip before giving it a light kiss. Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a surprised groan, “Seems kinda greedy, yeah?”

You look up at him, lips still connected to his tip, like you hadn't just insulted him under the guise of praise. His dark eyes meet yours and they narrow, “What's annoying is your attitude, don't be a brat.”

Shivers light up your spine at his words. You knew there was more to him than the high energy puppy persona he portrays. There has always been a devious crinkle in the corner of his eyes and curve to his lips when he makes a joke a little too mean, looking pleased when his jabs hit close to home.

You mumble a quiet, mocking “Yes sir,” before taking him fully in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and running your tongue along him with every bob up and taking him farther with each bob down.

Whatever Yunho was going to say in response to what you had called him dies on his tongue from the sudden onslaught of sensations of you giving him head like your life depended on it. He so badly wants you to hear you call him that again. If this happens again- and god does he want it to- he’ll make sure to make it a rule to only call him that.

The air shifts around you and suddenly there's a presence at your back. You pull your mouth off of Yunho to toss a glance over your shoulder, seeing Mingi sitting on the coffee table, legs settled on either side of you between your shoulders and Yunho’s legs. He leans over you and pulls your head up by your chin so you can see his face upside down, “Now I’m feeling left out, watching how good you're making him feel with that slutty mouth,” he coos as he brushes his thumb over your swollen lips.

His hand moves away from your chin and sweeps into your hair at either side of your head, guiding your mouth back to Yunho’s cock. The grip he had on your head wasn't demanding or forceful, just a dizzying reminder that he was there and helping you blow his best friend.

“You should see what you're doing to him baby, he looks like he could nut any second.” Mingi says. Not being able to resist the chance to see a normally well composed Yunho on the brink of losing it, you glance up at him through your lashes. He was already looking down at you, eyebrows knitted together and flipped up, like he also couldn't believe what was happening right now. His lips were parted to allow the huffs of air being punched out of him escape.

As you bob back down, Mingi’s grip keeps your head down for a second longer than you were anticipating, keeping Yunho in your throat and causing you to make a choked noise at the unexpected obstruction. “Oh he really liked that,” he muses and pulls your head up, going back to being a passive participant.

“Dude, shut up,” Yunho says, though it came out less like the warning that he intended it to be and more like a breathless groan, “Fuck.” His head rolls into the direction of where his friends are, hopefully, asleep.

It takes all the willpower Yunho has to push you back by your shoulders, the lewd pop your mouth makes when it disconnects from him loud in the otherwise quiet living room. Mingi still has a comforting hold on your head, and he's gracious enough to keep you upright by it as you catch your breath, throat sore from having someone so well endowed, in thickness and length, down it mere seconds ago. You pant through parted, spit-glossed lips as you look up to Yunho, wondering why he stopped you. Suddenly nervous you did something he didn't like.

He catches on and cups the side of your face, thumb coming up to rub your bottom lip, smearing the saliva and precum around them, “You've got a talented mouth on you. Any longer and I don't think I could've kept myself from waking up San and Seonghwa,” he says, giving you a soft, encouraging smile. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Let’s move to my room.” Mingi suggests, moving his hands from your head to underneath your arms to help you stand with your wobbly, achy knees. He grabs your hand and spins you around to face him, Yunho standing up behind you after tucking himself back in.

“Is this all still okay or do you want to go to bed while we stay out here? It’s all up to you how far this goes.” Mingi asks.

The thought of stopping makes your stomach drop. While you've pondered what they could possibly be like in bed, you never imagined they'd be just what you needed. Cautious and attentive to your feelings and how you respond to their words and touch, but demanding and teasing enough to rile you up.

“I might keel over if you don't bring me to your room.” Mingi laughs at your dramatic response, bringing your hand up to his lips and giving it a kiss before pulling you in the direction of his room by your linked hands, Yunho hot on your tail.

Between feverish kisses shared between you and both men, each of them pulling you in their direction when they feel the other has kissed you long enough, and discarding clothes starting from the closed bedroom door to the bed, the three of you ended up in nothing but underwear.

“C’mere,” Mingi orders, but doesn't wait for you to move. He flops down on his back onto the bed and drags you by the waist on top of him. The feeling of your bare chest pressed against his so suddenly has your heart slamming in its ribcage. Your nipples brushing against his skin as he maneuvers you to straddle one of his thighs, making you croak out the tiniest moan.

He smiles at the sound, impossible not to hear with how close you are to him, and kisses the tip of your nose, running his hands down your sides until they latched onto your hips.

“Make yourself feel good, you've earned it.” He says and he pulls your hips down until your core meets the firm expanse of his thigh. The pressure it gives immediately makes your brain buzz and stomach tighten. Ynou look up at him, he's propped up against two pillows that are stacked on top of one another so his eyes cast down to look back at you with an eyebrow raised at your lack of response.

“Well? Show me how slutty you can get, c’mon baby.” He takes it upon himself to help you get started, pulling your hips back and forth against him.

“Shit,” you involuntarily curse at the feeling of your clit rubbing deliciously against him, immediately soaking the plain, light pink panties you put on this morning with no intention of them seeing any action tonight.

“You sound so pretty,” Yunho says from behind you. Your head falls onto Mingi’s chest while he continues to grind you on his thigh, your cheek squished against his pectoral muscles as you do your best to look behind you.

Yunho is on his knees, straddling the same leg you’re currently soaking with your arousal. He grabs the back of one of your thighs with one hand, eyes zeroed in on your core, and brings his thumb over to rub the wet spot on your panties.

“Yun…” you breath, borderline sobbing with how much you’re feeling, emotionally and physically. The corner of his mouth lifts into a soft smirk, keeping his thumb pressed to your entrance through your panties, following the motion of your hips currently being controlled by Mingi.

“So lazy, making Mingi do all the work for you,” he begins, head still tilted down to watch the wet spot grow bigger and bigger, but looking up through his disheveled bangs, “though, I suppose you did earn it.” Your jaw drops open when you feel the fabric covering you being pulled away, and his thumb now connects with you skin on skin, dipping into your opening. The feeling was more frustrating than anything, only giving you a preview of what it would feel like he would just commit.

It felt like a switch flipping in your gut. Sure, the last 20 minutes had you feeling a fluttery swarm of butterflies in your stomach. How could you not feel that way when you had two insanely good looking men that you’ve been attracted to for years finally touch you the way you've fantasized about late at night with your door locked, lights off, and tv on the highest volume to block out any noise of you getting off to the thought of the very thing happening right now from your roommate. But having their pretty faces centimeters from your own, feeling their lips, the same ones you've brushed with with different shades of lip tint a million times over your years of working for them, pressed against yours and feeling their hands grasp at you with the same level of need as you felt made you turn deliriously horny, fast.

You grunt in frustration, canting your hips down and against the mid pulling motion Mingi was guiding you in, to chase more of the feeling of something, anything filling you. Yunho sees the attempt from a mile away, set it up for you to try in fact, just so he can give your ass a swift smack.

You jump from the impact, dragging against Mingi’s thigh adding pleasure to the biting sting.

“I’m trying to reward you, baby. I know you can be good, so show me, yeah?” It's not fair how unaffected Yunho sounds, all the while you're shaking from trying to keep yourself still to make him proud.

Thankfully he’s merciful and doesn't keep you waiting. He tests the waters by sliding one finger in once before adding a second, pads of his fingers down to rub against your front wall. The noise you make could only be described as a choke, your hands flying up to grip Mingi’s shoulders as you look up at him with your jaw dropped.

The smile he gives you.

“Oh man, the face she's making is unbelievable. What other faces can you make, pretty girl? Wanna see’m all.” He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and gives it a bite, smoothing it over with his tongue. Pressing his forehead to yours he asks, “Ready?”

It's cruel to think that you'd be able to scrounge up enough words to form a coherent reply, all you can do is pitch your moan higher at the end like you're asking Huh? For what? but he doesn't elaborate. He starts moving your hips to grind on his thigh again except this time Yunho’s fingers are still inside you.

Your body tries to roll to the side,to get away from the onslaught of stimulation, but Mingi catches you with an arm banded across your back shoulders to pull you back, chest to chest, before moving it back to help fuck you back and forth on Yunho's stationary fingers.

“Fu-uuck, too much, Min.” You gasp, squeezing his shoulders and dropping your face into his neck. With every push of your hips down you feel the length of Yunho’s long fingers fill you, rubbing against every delicious spot inside of you that you have never had the ability to explore on your own, before being dragged off of them only to repeat the feeling over and over. Every bounce punches tiny, moaning gasps from your lungs, puffing hot, wet air into Mingi’s neck.

Yunho changes the angle he’s holding them, bending them more to point downwards and the feeling that zings through you the next time you're pushed onto his fingers has your muscles locking up.

You groan, it was almost too much. You flail your arm behind you but it doesn't quite reach Yunho. So instead he interlocks his fingers with your own, placing your hand back on Mingi’s shoulder and holding it there with his hand on top.

“You gotta come on my fingers first before I feed you my dick sweetheart. C’mon, don't wanna hurt you.” Yunho coos, taking it upon himself to start moving his fingers himself, picking up the pace alongside Mingi.

You feel the immediate gush of wetness spill from you, soaking Mingi's thigh and the sheets below. The feeling forming in your lower stomach is almost unbearable but there’s nowhere for you to go to escape it, smushed between the two men who would let you pick out the take away places for dinner and bring back souvenir pins from countries you’ve dreamed of visiting one day.

The burn of tears gathering along your lashline at the thought of how much they mean to you and where you're at right now makes you move your face from Mingi’s neck to chest. You're flooded with the comforting smell of his skin and the lingering notes of whatever body wash he uses, grounding you enough to keep from an emotional meltdown that’d interrupt what you've been wanting for months.

Mingi, ever the one to be so in tuned with emotions, drops his lips to the top of your wild, knotted hair. Kissing the crown of your head repeatedly, whispering comforting words.

“This is a dream come true for us, we’ve talked about it before y’know?”

“Didn't want to ruin our friendship with you, but you make it so hard to not want you.”

“Making me so fucking happy right now."

The words float through you and your heart damn near sores. Your back arches deep along Mingi’s torso, ass rising higher in the air while your legs slide out further to the side until one falls off the side of the bed with your toes pointed, pressing your clit harder to his thigh. You cum violently on Yunho’s fingers, squeezing them to the point he had to make short, pointed thrusts to help you ride out the waves because your cunt would not let them go.

“You’re such a softie, y/n. Cumming to such sweet words while being used like a little slut.” Yunho’s words sting so good, lighting the fire back up inside you when it barely had a chance to die down. His fingers slip out of you and he lets the grip he had on your hand and Mingi’s shoulder go, only to wedge it between Mingi’s chest and your neck. Curling his palm around the front of your throat and using the other arm to hook underneath your breast, he uses his unseeming strength to pull you up and along his chest.

“I’m gonna fuck you brainless over Mingi, then let him use you after. And you're gonna love it, right?” Yunho’s breath warms the side of your face with every word he says, lips pressed against your cheek.

You look down at Mingi, his entire bottom lip pinched between his teeth, his eyes, blown pupils and all, drinking in your body being stretched along the length of Yunho’s. You wait for him to meet your gaze before you answer with a breath-y “Mm’a love it so much,”

“I just think a front loading one would be more efficient,” he had said. To which you disagreed because you didn't want to have to deal with how easily mold would grow on the door. Cleaning it would only add another task to the never ending list of chores. Another thing you would have to keep up with, and if you're being honest that might be the one thing that launches you into psychosis.

The thought of him turning out to be right after making a big fuss makes you all the more determined. You pull yourself up using all the strength in your arms and bend your torso over the washing machine, letting your feet dangle off the floor.

You're finally close enough to the sock where you can snatch it up between your pointer and middle finger.

“Ha! Got you, you little bastard- hey!” A firm strike to your ass cuts your victory shout short and makes the damn sock fall back to the bottom again.

You turn your head over your shoulder with a glare already aimed at your husband and blow the strands of hair across your eyes out of your face, “The hell?!”

Seonghwa’s hand is still resting on the ass cheek he slapped, but rubbing it to soothe the sting he left. 

“You expect me to see your cute butt in the air while you’re bent over the side of the washing machine, the one you so badly wanted by the way, and not give it attention?” He asks through a laugh.

“Sorry for thinking you had a modicum of self restraint.” You counter while beginning your descent back to the ground, but halted by your husband's hands on your hips, keeping you folding over the edge of the machine.

“Hwa,” you breathed out, throwing out your arms to grip either side of the edge to keep from toppling head-first into the basin. “What are you doing?” 

He hums as he gives your hips a strong squeeze, sliding his hands down to your exposed outer thighs in your lounge shorts and giving a squeeze there too, “We’ve fucked in pretty much every room in this house, every surface too. But not in here yet…”

“On the washing machine? You're such a freak, I-” the feeling of long, delicate fingers playing with the edge of your shorts at the back stops you from finishing that sentence.

“I was thinking about the laundry room in general, but I’ll never turn down a request from you, wife.” 

You focus on the path his finger ran, along your back right underneath the waist band of the loose, white cotton shorts. It tickled, raising tiny bumps across your skin that made you shiver. 

One thing that shocked you when you first started seeing Seonghwa, before marriage was even a blip of a thought, was for all the strictness he had about keeping a clean space, which luckily you shared even though you weren’t nearly as anal about things, he had a very spontaneous spirit. You often found yourself going on road trips without prior discussion, having the thought to go to a town 5 hours away for a unique sightseeing experience in the morning and leaving within the hour. It was something you had to get used to, you were not a spontaneous person by nature and felt sick to your stomach doing anything without a plan, but his excitement about how much fun it would be to go and do this one thing was enough to see it through every time. 

And this spontaneous spirit clearly extended to bedroom activities as well. That was made clear on your wedding night when he fucked you within an inch of your life at the hot spring you snuck into way past operating hours. 

Fuck it.

You brought your feet up and curled them around the backs of Seonghwa's lower thighs to pull him closer. He grunts in surprise but it melts into a deep chuckle, “Oh, okay then.” 

Your shorts are yanked roughly off your hips and down your legs, unhooking your feet from him to let them fall to the floor.

“Look at that, what a nasty little wife I have.” Seonghwa speaks low and slow, like he's seeing the eighth wonder of the world and not the lack of underwear gracing your bottom half.

You turn your head around the best you can to look up at him innocently through your lashes, resting your chin on your arm to pout, “It's laundry day, I didn't have anything clean to wear.”

He just hums like he doesn’t believe you, a noncommittal sound that makes you feel silly for even trying to defend yourself. But there’s no time to dwell on the thought, because your husband is already working two fingers inside you. 

Instinctually, your body lurches forward, the edge of the washing machine rolling against your abdomen a little too hard with the force of his fingers pushing deep inside you. You let out a whimper, but when he pulls out and thrusts them back in, rolling the edge harder into your stomach it's clear to you that in theory this is way sexier than it was in practice.

“Wait, Hwa. Wait, wait,” you kick your foot out, tapping his leg three times with it in quick succession of one another. He immediately stills, gently removes his fingers and holds you by the hips again.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asks, keeping his cool but very obviously worried he’s done something wrong.

You wiggle your way down back to your feet, his hands steadying you on your descent, warm and firm against the bare skin. Only removing them as you turn to face him, but reattaching them like magnets were embedded under his hands that forcibly pulled them back to their rightful place. 

Two lines are etched between his brows, the corner of his lips pulled down the tiniest bit expressing his worry. You smile up at him, trying to ease his spiral before it begins. He was such a caretaker, always fussing about your comfortability. It became apparent to him early on in the relationship that you didn't like disappointing people and often did things you didn't want to do to appease those around you. He nipped that in the bud quickly. He learned to read every micro expression in your face and every warble in your voice, becoming an expert in detecting lies before they even made their way out of your lips. Not that you lie often, but sometimes you sugar coat the truth to avoid hurt feelings, downplaying your personal feelings for the comfort of another’s. So a promise was made when talking about marriage- you’d always say how you felt and he would never take anything personally. 

“That position was hurting my stomach,” you speak honestly, stretching your arms up and curling them around his neck, “still want you though.” 

He presses his lips to your forehead, leaving them there for a few seconds while he encloses his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to his front. Your bare lower body comes into contact with the soft cotton of his sweat pants and a hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, bringing your eyes in line with his. “Do you want to go to the bedroom?” 

You shake your head quickly, “If you don't set me on top of this dryer right now I’m hiding the lint rollers.” 

Seonghwa’s mouth dropped open with a click of his tongue and a feigned gasp. Your squeal ends in a giggle as his hands shoot down and grip your waist, you bounce on your feet to help as he lifts you up and sets you on top of the dryer.

“You’re so mean,” he groans as he goes for your neck, pushing his tongue against the sensitive skin near your ear and giving it a pinch with his teeth. “How can my wife be so cruel,” he whispers, spoken close enough to your ear that the sounds of his words shoot straight down to your core and have you throbbing.

“Mm,” you hum as you bring your legs back around his hips and dig the heels of your feet into the firm muscles of his ass, pulling him closer between your legs. “Sounds like grounds for a punishment.” 

He lifts his head up and away from your ear, smiling a little too wide. Your brows twitch with confusion as an arm comes up behind your back, pressed parallel to your spine with his hand cupping the back of your skull. 

“You would like that too much.” He states and he wraps his other hand around your upper thigh to yank you down to the edge of the dryer. You squeak as you fall backwards, protected from slamming your head into the dashboard of the dryer controls by the hold he has on you from behind. 

Your heart thumps and you feel tears sting your water line. The forethought he puts into your safety is something that makes your heart clench every time. Attentive to every microscopic possibility that could put you in harm's way, he is always ten steps ahead of it with five other backup plans lined up, just in case. It’s always a stark reminder that he loves you so bad. Not only in the way he’s sure to tell you he loves you, even if he’s just walking outside to cut the grass while you mop the floors. Or the way he has your favorite tea brewed to the perfect strength and at the right temperature ready for you downstairs in the mornings. Or the way he has cut fruit waiting for you when you get home from work, so the both of you can share it while you talk about how each other's workday was. It’s the way he so obviously wants to have as much time as he can on this Earth with you that lets you know how honest his love is.

Before he can get the chance to clock the sudden emotional shift you pull him back to your lips to whisper an “I love you so much,” and seal your lips to his. You pour all the love you can into every motion your lips make against his, using your tongue to make sure it sticks. He pulls his head back, smiling down at you softly as he slips his arm out from under you and brings his hand up to your cheek. Using his thumb, he gently brushes it underneath your lash line where a tear must have fallen. 

“Happy tears or should I be concerned?” he asks.

“Definitely happy,” you answer, turning your head into his hand and giving it a kiss, “now please,” you whine into his palm as you begin pawing at what you can reach of his sweatpants like an attention starved cat.

He shushes you sweetly, less condescendingly and more in the way of letting you know there’s no need to worry, he’s going to give you what you want. He kisses you stupid, making you focus on catching up with his lips and tongue instead of his hands pulling the band of his sweats down to midthigh. At the feeling of the heaviness falling onto your bare pussy you turn your head away from him and look down with a raised brow, “And you get to be free of nasty little husband allegations?” 

A laugh punches from his chest, caught off guard that you could even pay attention to detail right now let alone the lack of boxers under his sweatpants.

He shrugs one shoulder and responds, “Laundry day,” before diving back into your mouth. With both hands free now he grips the backs of your thighs to push them up, out, and back towards your chest. “Hold’em” he mumbles and you immediately obey, your brain not needing a second to process what he said, just knowing what needs to be done. He keeps one hand gripping one thigh alongside yours and the other leaves to run his cock through the length of your slit, pushing down and circling your clit with the head after every few passes.

You squirm your hips trying to get him inside you, but he clicks his tongue against his teeth and removes the hand on your thigh to press his forearm across your pubic bone like a seatbelt, “Still,” is all he says and your body locks up, hearing a command and following accordingly. 

“Good girl, such a good little wife. Lemme use you just how you like,” he coos into your open mouth, purposefully far enough away that you can’t reach it with your own. 

And use you he does. Where you expect him to continue the tortuous drag along your lower lips he pushes into you, long and slow, making sure you feel every second it takes for him to fill you up. You don’t even recognize the sound that leaves you, some kind of mix of a sob and exhale an of relief. From there he saws into you relentlessly, hips angled to grind into your clit with every thrust. You squeeze your thighs hard with your hands, trying to keep yourself open so he can reach every delicious part inside of you, afraid that if you let go the high that’s approaching so rapidly will evaporate. 

Seonghwa lifts the seatbelt like hold away from you and uses it to snake around your back to put you into the same protective hold from earlier, except this time he did it to bring you up and press you against his chest, tucking your head into the crook of his neck with his hand cradling the back of your head.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” he speaks into the crown of your head, pressing a barely there kiss to it that contradicted the way he was fucking up your guts. 

“You too, fuck- you too, love you so much. Feel so good, so so good,” you sob into his neck, finally letting go of your thighs to wrap around his neck and press him as close as possible to you, despite him being inside you already. Unable to keep your mouth closed from the pleasure rocketing through your body, your tongue lolled out and pressed against his neck, the taste of Seonghwa’s skin and your tears flooding your mouth. 

“Gonna come, can’t- shit- can’t hold it,” Seonghwa groans, laying you back down flat on top of the dryer and straightening up right. “No, nonono” you begin to protest, reaching out with one arm in a plea to have him come back and flood your personal space again. While the other hand flies back to hold onto the top of the dryer and attempt to stabilize the way your body is being jostled by his quickening thrusts. “I know baby, one second, wanna make you come too. You want that, right? Wanna come with me like my good, nasty, little wife.” He’s talking fast, desperate. It’s the only way you can tell that he’s just as delirious as you. You switch from begging for him to come back to pleading for an orgasm. The pleas become more and more pitched as he presses his thumb into your clit and circles it in sync with the hard drive of cock inside you. On the fourth rotation, your back bows and your legs kick out straight, toes pointing until they ache as you come hard enough that you think you might’ve blacked out for a second. The pitchy moans cut off into silence before you let out one last, long groan.

You feel yourself tightening around Seonghwa, making it so your pussy grips him hard enough he can’t move. He powers through two drives of his cock in you before the grip becomes too much and you're flooded with sticky heat inside. His groan vibrates through his chest into yours as he falls forward and he’s pressed against you again. His head hangs over your shoulder, allowing you to plant a kiss to his hair and bring an arm up to rub his back. 

After a well needed system reboot, he brings his head up and pecks your lips, “Think that crosses off the last room on our sexy time bingo card, right?” 

You let out a loud laugh, “Considering I’m drawing the line at linen closets and the pantry, yes. Bingo.” 

“Boring,” he sighs and begins pushing himself up and off you. He gently pulls himself out of you, trying to ignore the sudden emptiness that always follows, and he tucks himself back into his boxers. “Let’s clean up and I’ll make you anything you want for lunch.” He says as he holds his hand out for you to take. You push yourself up on your elbows and grab his hand, sliding off the dryer onto wobbly legs. As you begin to follow his lead to the bathroom you halt, pulling his arm back with you, “Wait!” 

It hasn't even been a full day since you let yourself act on your feelings for Mingi and Yunho. San’s rude awakening killed the mood impressively fast. He tripped over an article of clothing that had been tossed and landed just inside the doorway, bumping into Mingi’s dresser and toppling the perfumes setting on top of it over. While he picked himself off the floor and straightened up the things he knocked over, the three of you were able to shuffle around so Yunho and Mingi could hide on the side of the bed opposite from the door, and you were tucked tight under the covers. It was hard thinking of an excuse to get him to leave. Eventually you had settled on it not being fair for him to cuddle you in Mingi’s own bed while he slept on the couch. 

“Oh, okay. Well, come sleep in my room, he can have his bed back.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a minute. I’m gonna use the bathroom first.” 

A few seconds after the door clicks shut behind San, Mingi pops up onto his knees and leans a forearm on his bed. Yunho coming up shortly after. 

“Hey…” Mingi starts softly. 

The reality of what just transpired slams into you. Jumping into bed with, not one, but two of your close friends? You barely had a conversation before things ramped up. Do they even feel anything towards you? Were they just pent up from touring overseas for a month? Did you just fuck things up with a whole friend group that you left your job for? You were glad you were turned away from them so they couldn't see the far away look in your eyes as your brain flipped through all your anxieties. 

“Can you let us know what you’re feeling?” Yunho asks quietly.

Shameful, confused, and stupid all come to mind, but you can't tell them that without hurting their feelings. You certainly don't regret it, but saying that wouldn't lessen the blow by much. You don't really know what to say, so you settle on, “Tired. You guys really know how to wear a girl out.” You flip your body under the comforter to face them on the other side, holding it up to your neck. You give them a small smile so they don't worry, but you've never been good at hiding what you're thinking. And apparently they're experts in your body language, a quick flick of their eyes towards one another tells you as much.

“Are you going to San’s room?” Mingi asks. He sounds disappointed, but not judgey. A question he's sad to be asking. 

You look down and focus your attention on the stitching along the seams of the comforter before answering, “I think so.” Looking back up at them with the inside corner of your bottom lip between your teeth you ask, “Will you be mad?” 

Yunho gives you a sad smile of his own and pats your head, “Of course not. You do whatever you need to feel comfortable.”

You left that morning before anybody had woken up. San was clearly too wasted to know what was happening, but you worried about what Seonghwa might've heard. Volume wasn't on the forefront of your mind, and you didn't want to find out if the noises from Mingi’s room had floated through the dorm to his own. 

Your roommate was off visiting her parents for the weekend, leaving you alone to stew in the aftermath. Not that you could talk to her about anyways, you'd never betray their trust like that. So, here you are, stretched out on the fuzzy floral printed rug in your living room, having your floor time. The feeling of gravity pressing against the length of your body grounds you, directing your attention to the way your shoulder blades and spine dig into the floor rather than the anxiety brewing inside of you like a storm. At least, that's what floor time was supposed to achieve. It seems like this time your problems were too big to be solved by gravity. 

The chime of your phone pulls your focus away from ruminating on the previous night. Your hand blindly reaches up and pats along the surface of the coffee table in search of your phone, flicking your wrist up to check who the notification was from. 

Sannie: Where’d you go? I wanted to get breakfast :(

Your eyes flick up to the time in the top corner of your phone and you scoff to yourself, holding your phone up above you to respond. 

You: It’s 1:27 in the afternoon, I already had breakfast AND lunch. Sannie: You usually hang out before leaving, are you feeling okay?

For them being celebrities, and men at that, all eight of them are highly emotionally intuitive.

You: I’m okay, I just got bored hanging around waiting for everyone to wake up. 

A lie. The moment your eyes opened at 7am you bolted. 

Sannie: That’s fair. Thanks for being a cuddle buddy, let’s see each other soon~

You hearted the message and set your phone down on the rug beside you. You don’t want to avoid them. Whether it’s romantically or plantonically, you love the guys. Mingi. Yunho. San. All of them. They welcomed you into their tight knit group, trusted you with secrets that you had no right to be privy to, but wanted you to know anyway because you meant that much. It felt stupid to avoid the others just because of a line you crossed with Mingi and Yunho. 

Heaving a sigh, you pull yourself up to a sitting position. Floor time was a bust so grocery shopping it is. After changing into an outfit that felt cozy but looked put together, stacking some necklaces to dress it up a bit, and grabbing a canvas tote bag to bring your groceries home in, you set off. You let the routine of walking to the store, perusing the aisles, looking at new item arrivals for a treat, loading the groceries into your tote, and walking home settle your nerves back to baseline. You put away the tofu, eggs, and mushrooms, then unscrew the cap to a new flavor of alcohol from your favorite brand. 

The remainder of your afternoon is spent sipping on your drink slowly, a play through of a cozy game on youtube on the tv as background noise while you work on a new painting of the sunrise you saw on your way to work a couple days ago. Washes of muted, dusky purples, soft pinks, and vivid oranges dye the small canvas you were working on, layering the colors and shading in the clouds the best you could to mimic the real life thing. Completely focused, and in the zone, the night before wasn’t even on your radar anymore.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed until a series of rapid knocks sounded from the door to your apartment, breaking your focus away from your project and catching a glimpse of the sun sinking behind the horizon, only a sliver of light left. More knocking follows the brief pause, whoever is on the other side is obviously impatient. You drop the canvas on the coffee table and place your paint brush in the cup of water next to it, grabbing a paper towel to wipe off the paint off the sides of your hands as you walk over to answer it.

You can't help the full body jolt when your eyes land on the man on the other side.

“Uh, hey.” He says in greeting. Even with the bill of his black baseball cap pulled down to cover his eyes and black face mask covering his nose and mouth, you’d know that build anywhere. You've spent too much time appreciating it not to. 

“Hey Min, uh, this is a surprise.” You squeeze the door handle to steady yourself, completely unprepared to be confronted like this. Hours of distracting yourself only for the source of your problems to appear on your doorstep. 

“I’m sorry, I know.” He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. The sleeve of his black shirt slides down to show the bulge of bicep, the motherfucker.

Completely oblivious to the struggle your eyeballs are going through he continues, “I was just worried. You left before any of us in the dorm woke up and haven't been responding to any texts. Yunho said to give you space, but I was spiraling. Can we talk, please?” He lifts his head enough for you to see his eyes. You can't say no to the way they’re pleading for you to say yes, so you open the door wider and step to the side to let him in. After taking his shoes, hat, and mask off he follows you into the living room and sits on the plush, burnt orange swivel chair next to the loveseat you plop down on. Not knowing what to say, you ask “Did you want anything to drink? I just bought a mango highball, you can have the other half. I think I might have some iced green tea left. Or water?” 

Mingi relaxes a little, fighting a wide smile. You’re rambling, which means you’re nervous, which means you aren’t mad at them. He’s witnessed how you ice people out when you’re pissed. Thankfully he’s never been on the receiving end, but you’re nothing if not committed when you want someone to know they’ve wronged you. He was so, so worried he had wronged you. After you left for San’s room and the two of them redressed, Yunho had to talk him down from following you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Mingi paced his bedroom, hands in his hair with a stressed out grip. “What were we thinking? That’s not how that should’ve gone down. We’re so stupid.”

Yunho sat on the edge of Mingi’s bed, bent over with his elbows digging into either knee, hands folded together with his thumbs pressing the inner part of his eyes by the bridge of his nose. He was trying to calm his own panicking inner monologue, which was proving difficult with how vocal Mingi was with his own. While the two of them have shared women before, they usually planned it out. It was never spontaneous. If either of them had the desire for a threesome, they’d pick a night, and a place. They’d make sure the vibe was right, plan out how they’d approach the woman they were both drawn to, and if it made its way back to a hotel everything fell into place like synchronized choreography. 

You, however, were not planned. Not like they haven’t tossed the idea around to each other before. They definitely have, but it was never acted on because this is the exact outcome they feared. They got too brave, pushed things too far because your reactions were just too cute. And you were into it. You begged, but a conversation should have been had before, something bigger than just asking if you were okay with it.

Yunho sucked in a deep breath, “It’s okay, Mingi.”

Mingi abruptly stopped his pacing and snapped his neck to face him, “Okay?! There was practically smoke coming from her feet with how fast she peeled outta here. We need to talk to her before she gets too much into her own head.”

Yunho shakes his head and lifts it to inally to face his friend, “We need to give her space. If we overwhelm her it might make things worse. Let’s see how it plays out tomorrow. We’ll fix this.”

Mingi chews on his bottom lip as he wipes his hands down his face, “I hope you’re right.”

“I’m good, thanks though.” He declines your drink offer. He takes in the state of your apartment, paint supplies dominate the surface of the coffee table, soft gaming music is playing through the tv speakers, and he catches a glimpse of your phone face down half way under your sofa. Maybe you weren’t ignoring them, it looks like you’ve been working on a new project for awhile. It gives him the optimism he needed to continue, “It’s nice to see you’re painting again.” 

You pull legs up to your chest, resting your feet on the edge of the couch cushion, and wrap your arms around them. You can tell he’s treading carefully, and you’re grateful for normal conversation before the inevitable not so normal discussion that’s sure to follow. 

“Yeah, I have time now. No more 3am to 10pm work days.” You rest your cheek on your knee, facing him. He lets out a loud laugh and sighs, “Yeah, lucky you. They’re still just as awful, maybe more so without you there.” 

You roll your eyes, but say nothing. Mainly because you don’t know what to say in response to that. Sure, he’s being normal, but is that because last night wasn’t a mistake or is it because he’s trying to let you down gently? Luckily he continues anyway.

“I’m so sorry if we crossed a line yesterday. I don’t know what came over us, usually things don’t happen so fast-”

Cutting him off you pick your head up so quickly you hear the vertebrae in your neck click and your brows shoot up in surprise, “Usually?”

Mingi’s eyes go wide and he looks off to the side, “Uh, um- yeah. It’s not the… first time that we, um.”

“I’m not mad,” You say before the poor man combusts all over the painting you just spent hours on. “Actually, I’m not even that shocked. I had a feeling it was you when Yunho mentioned he’s had threesomes before. I’m more surprised by the frequency. I just didn’t know it was a… regular thing.” 

You clearly see Mingi’s muscles relax at your explanation. His back relaxes into a slouch and he uncurls the death drip he had on the arm of the chair. He clears his throat, “I mean, we don’t have threesomes exclusively. We sleep with people separately too.” 

You hum, delighted that it seems like you’re being told something that even the rest of the guys didn’t know recalling their reactions last night. Mingi goes on, “There’s usually a much larger conversation before anything begins, and last night that conversation never happened. That’s on us. You gave us consent, but we didn’t talk about anything beyond that.” He swivels the chair so he’s facing you more head on, “We don’t regret it. I know how your brain works, and I know you always go to the worst case scenario. It killed me not telling you this the second San left, but I think we were all a bit taken aback. And, like I said, Yunho didn’t want to overwhelm you. So I waited as long as I could, but you weren’t responding and now I’m here. And, yeah.” He takes a breath, not realizing how fast he was talking, making sure he got everything out in the open. 

“It’s okay. I mean yeah, I’ve been freaking out about the worst case scenario. I was trying to distract myself all day so I wouldn't spiral more. Honestly, I don’t even know where my phone is-” he bends down and reaches over from his spot on the chair at the mention of your phone. When he comes back up he has it in his large palm, holding it out to you. You give a shy smile as you take it from him. Clicking the side of it your homescreen glows: 27 notifications. “I’m really sorry.” You groan. 

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing.” Mingi promises, and deep down you know that. You have a problem with over apologizing. He goes on, “Never apologize for changing your mind in the middle of what you thought you wanted. You have every right to do that if you aren't comfortable.”

You sigh, “You're not mad that I left to go sleep in San’s bed?” you ask, needing reassurance. 

Mingi gets up from the swivel chair and takes a seat next to you. He reaches for your hand, but stops just before grabbing and asking, “Can I?” 

You grab his hand with yours and he lets out a breath. He wasn't sure you'd let him, but the feeling of your hand in his felt perfect. Like it belonged there.

“I would never be mad at you for that. You needed comfort and at the moment Yunho and I weren't the ones to give it to you. What's important is that you feel safe, and you needed space from us to feel that, that's completely understandable.” You feel like crying hearing his words. The pressure sitting on your chest begins to lift, letting you take a deep breath for what feels like the first time all day. How silly of you to think Mingi would be playing nice to let you down gently. He's as straightforward as they come, and the sincerity of his words comfort you like a giant blanket wrapped around you in a thunderstorm. 

“Remember what I told you last night? In the middle of everything?” He asks. You try to pick through the memories of what was said to you for a moment, before the words come to the surface. The sweet melody of praises that had cut through all the nasty, diabolical dirty talk.

“This is a dream come true for us, we’ve talked about it before y’know?”

“Didn't want to ruin our friendship with you, but you make it so hard to not want you.”

“Making me so fucking happy right now."

A smile creeps up on your face, “Yeah I do.”

“I meant what I said. It may have felt out of the blue for you, but for us it was something that we had fantasized about. So, please, believe me when I say nothing that happened was a mistake from our end.” He tacks the last bit of his sentence on with a shaky voice. Just because it wasn't a mistake for them doesn't mean it wasn't for you. 

Looking down at the way his hand totally engulfs yours, you give it a squeeze and say the words that relieves the pressure in his chest, “It wasn't for me either, you guys weren't the only ones who’ve been fantasizing about it.”

Mingi wants to jump to his feet and spin you around with how happy he feels, but he just bear-hugs you, squeezing you tight. Cocooned in his body and surrounded by the smell of his laundry detergent you squeeze him back just as hard. 

“No more weirdness okay? I didn't like not being able to talk to you. San puked all over the kitchen floor when he smelled Seonghwa cooking eggs. Hwa about lit his ass up, but his motherly side won over. The look on his face was priceless.” Mingi pouts after pulling away. You nod and hum an agreement, “You should've taken a picture, I'd kill to see that.” 

“It was mostly white, a few strawberry piec-” 

“Ew, stop! No! Hwa’s face, dummy.” You push him to the side of the couch and get up to clean the art supplies off the table.

He laughs, “I know, I’m just trying to lighten the mood.” 

“Well, since you just got here want to watch something? A comedy maybe since you're so keen on being a mood

maker.” 

And that's what lead Mingi to this moment. Looking down at you, curled up on your side on the couch, hands tucked into your chest, mouth parted open, sleeping so fucking hard that a dark patch of drool dampens the couch cushion next to your mouth. He doesn't want to wake you up. If you were feeling anything like he was last night you probably got only a few hours of asleep, and you sure are snoring like that's the case. He also doesn't want to leave you on the couch. He figured that would be a pretty fucked up thing to do after telling you, admittedly in a round about way, that he felt something more than friendship towards you. So, he scoops up bridal style and walks back to where the bedrooms are, making an educated guess that yours is the only one with the door open and lights on.

He’s never been inside your room, hasn’t been past the curb of your apartment building if he's being honest. Whenever you would hang out with them it was either at one of the dorms or a public place, so getting a peak into your space felt strangely intimate. The entirety of your apartment smelled like vanilla and coconut, but stepping inside your room the scent was a little bit stronger than in the living area. Your bed was pushed into the corner on the far side of the room. It was made but had a couple blankets bunched up and rumpled, laying over the comforter with numerous plush animals scattered along the top and bottom corner. The ceiling fan spun overhead on such a high speed a rhythmic click of the cords clinking together filled the cozy space. Multiple small lamps in different styles were placed throughout the room- on the desk, bookshelf, and on of the many shelves anchored into the wall- giving off a soft orange glow. It was a museum of everything you love. Every poster and print hung, every figurine from your favorite books, video games, tv shows, and movies placed on any available surface. Mingi took it all in, tried to learn about the other part of you, outside of who you are with them. He walks over to the bed to lay you down, bending low until your body sinks into the mattress. 

One second you're suspended in the air with two thick forearms around your body, and the next you feel your body molding to the plush of your bedding. You squeeze your arms around the neck they're holding, using all the strength in your sleepy body to keep the person from moving away. 

Mingi grunts at the unexpected force locked around his neck. He whispers your name softly followed by, “Hey, I was just moving you to the bed. You can't sleep on the couch, it’ll hurt your muscles and joints.” Trying to unravel your arms from their tight hold, he fails when you snake them around and squeeze tighter, pulling him down towards you and causing him to almost fall. His arm shoots out to steady himself so he doesn't suffocate you with his weight, his hand resting right next to your waist on the side closest to the wall. 

“Lay with me, please?” You ask. Your face presses into the side of his cheek, lips grazing the skin as the question leaves you, scratchy voice sounding pleading.

“I have outside clothes on.” He whispers back.

“Take'm off.” You mumble, tugging at him more to get him next to you.

Mingi wants to, so, so bad, but after everything that has happened in the last 24 hours he was worried. You're awake, but you could be in that dreamy in-between-state where your body is conscious but your mind is lagging behind. What if you wake up and start overthinking again? Will that push you away? Will you be mad that he listened to your sleepy request instead of refusing because you weren't fully awake? Or will you be upset that he didn't listen, that you were fully conscious and aware of what you were asking? And by not listening, you take it as he doesn't want anything to do with you in that way?

One night stands were so much easier. A quick release of pent up energy and hormones with no thinking about what comes next is something he got too used to. Now confronted with feelings he's been shoving aside for the sake of professionalism and friendship, he doesn't know how to react appropriately to anything when it comes to you.

He feels your hold loosen from around his neck and your face peeling off the side of his to look at him, it's like you're reading his mind when you say, “I’m awake. I know what I’m asking. I just really want you to hold me, Mingi.” 

He chews on his bottom lip, eyes bouncing back and forth between your pretty ones. Does everyone’s eyes sparkle like yours? He hasn't noticed, but yours definitely shine. This time when he reaches behind his neck to unlatch your grip you let him, but you don't break eye contact. He stands there, looking down at you. Your sweatpants rolled down a little farther than normal during the move from the couch to the bed. Your oversized shirt scrunched up to show your tummy, the stretched out neck line slid off to expose the entirety of your shoulder and most of your upper arm. He tried not to think about how you definitely weren't wearing a bra. Which made it extremely difficult for him to stop thinking back on the memory of you on top of him, not a scrap of cloth in sight, body elongated against Yunho’s, pretty tits pushed out and arching while they played with you. This was not the time to pop boner.

You let out a quiet and, Mingi thought the cutest, yay when he started pulling his shirt over his head. You slide over to the side of the bed next to the wall to give him

space to get in, rolling onto your side and sliding an arm under the pillow under your head to watch as he stripped down to his boxers. Last night was a flurry of rushed kisses and hard touches you never got the chance to appreciate the hard work he puts into his physique. Now, with him standing at full height in your room, you could marvel at the sight. The low lights cast shadows along the lines of hard muscle in his abdomen, chest, and arms making them appear more chiseled. His broad shoulders looked intimidatingly large as he loomed over you, the line of his body tapering smaller at his waist where the distinct “v” disappeared into the band of his boxers. He looks unreal, and suddenly you’re nervous. But this is Mingi. You talked, no mistakes were made, there's a mutual attraction, there's no reason for nerves. 

You pat the spot next to you and he falls into the bed, on his side facing you. There's no hesitation when you scooch in closer, “Do you have to go back to the dorm tonight?” You're not sure why, but the thought of him leaving makes it feel like a void is where your heart should be. You need the validation that he still wants to be around you after everything. 

“I have a schedule tomorrow, but it's not until late morning.” He answers, snaking a hand under your upper body and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“So, you can stay the night?” You ask shyly. His hand comes up around your head and starts massaging his fingertips into your scalp. He hums, “I can, but I’ll probably have to leave before you wake up. 

“That's fine.” You say and nuzzle your face into his chest. Maybe that half highball you drank did make you a little tipsy, or that mixed with the haze of being half awake was making you way more affectionate than was probably appropriate right now. But you just wanted to be held, and being held in the arms of Mingi was something you always wondered about. It was proving to be just as comforting and all encompassing as you had imagined.

You stayed like that for a while, matching your breathing to his as he ran his hand throughout your hair. Eventually his other hand came up to rest on the curve of your waist, periodically rubbing up and down trying to lull you back to sleep. Mingi usually hated cuddling. He hated the feeling of achy arms after being in one spot too long with some else's weight pinning them down. He hated when hair was in his face, tickling this nose and getting in his mouth. But he didn’t mind those things when it came to holding you in his arms. He could smell the scent of your shampoo with every inhale, the crown of your head tucked under his chin. He could feel the scratch of the backs of your earrings against his bicep, but he wouldn't move his arm away even if they were making it bleed. 

“I’m glad you came over. I was worried that I'd lose everybody.” You say suddenly. The way your lips brushed against the bare skin of his chest when you spoke made him want to moan, but he soldiers through to answer, “I had a feeling that was the case. You wouldn't lose any of us over something like that. I think you'd be shocked if you knew what goes on sometimes. Half of them like to act like they're above the pervy shit they get up to but they're probably the most intense ones out of everyone.”

You’ll have to stick a pin in that bit of information for later. You lift your head off his chest to prop your elbow up on the mattress under his armpit and lay your head on your palm. Looking up with a look that says you find that hard to believe you say, “So, if I total everybody the next time we hang out that I fucked you and Yunho, at the same time, they'd breeze past it like nothing?”

Mingi laughs so hard that it jostles you around a bit. 

“Absolutely not. They would lose their fucking minds. I don't even want to think about how loud Woo would get hearing that news. We’d never hear the end of it.” 

You scoff and flick his forehead, “So you lied!”

He scrunches his nose and rubs the spot you flicked, “Did not. I said you wouldn't lose them, not that they would let it go without torment.” 

“It's like talking to a genie with you.” You grumble and fall backwards to lay on your back, looking up at the ceiling with your neck trapping Mingi’s arm.

He laughs a bit softer now, leaning over to rest the arm that's not pinned down on the side opposite of him, his body hovering over yours half way, “Sorry, I’m trying to make you feel better. That’s only if they found out. Which they won't, because Yunho and I don't kiss and tell. Besides, technically that hasn't happened so there's no reason to worry.” 

You fiddle with the ends of your hair and click your tongue against your teeth, “Technically, yeah.”

He stops you from picking your split ends with his hand on top of your and grins down at you, “Disappointed?”

You could lie, but who is that benefitting anyways? What happened, happened. The three of you collectively don't regret, nobody has to know but if the others found out, it wouldn't ruin the friendship you've built. Denying it will only deprive you of what you all clearly want.

So, you look him right in the eye and tell him the truth, “Yeah I am.” 

His grin falls, not because that's not what he wanted to hear, but because he's surprised you admitted it. He was prepared for you to tell him fuck off, it's too soon to joke about it. Not look up at him with those big, shiny eyes and tell him you were disappointed that you were interrupted before him and his best friend could properly rearrange your guts.

“Fuck, don't look at me like that.” He groans, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to keep himself in control. You're confused for only half a second until the realization slaps you in the face. Well, more like his boner hitting you in the thigh. Confidence surges through you, because that's all it takes? One look, one confession and he's already hard for you? You couldn't feel more wanted. 

You grab his face and pull him down, kissing him hard and he doesn't hesitate to reciprocate. A groan of relief from him echoes in the room, his tongue filling your mouth and over taking yours for dominance. 

You roll onto your shoulder and keep one hand on his face while you slide the other down to the side of his neck, over the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen, feeling every hard ridge and bump that you hope one day he’ll let you lick every inch of, and halt right over the bulge in his boxers. His eyes pop open wide when you pull away from the kiss, biting his lip as you retreat. Wrapping your fingers over the hard flesh, giving it a light squeeze as you rub him up and down over his boxers, his head falls down to his shoulder, unsuccessful in hiding a wrecked moan. The feeling in your gut intensifies, the twisting pressure making your heart race at the sight of this 6 foot something, hulking man unable to contain himself from a single touch, not even skin to skin at that. 

Kissing up his neck until your lips rest on the sharp edge of his jaw, you coo “You didn’t get played with last night, did you?” 

All you get in response is a barely perceptible shake of his head. You smack your lips, “Yunho kinda took control of the night, huh? Wasn’t even thinking about your needs. Soooo unfair.” You bring your leg up and hook it over his hip bone, your hand tucked between your bodies, making its way to the edge of the elastic waist band, rubbing your thumb along the warm, smooth skin right above it. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, let him feel what it’s like to get teased to the point your self control is going to pop like a balloon being filled with too much helium.

You can’t see his face, but you hear him whine and it makes you want to eat him alive. You nip his jaw lightly with your teeth, “I can make it up to you tonight?” It comes out more like a question than an offer. It was made clear that wanting to fuck each other has been a mutual desire, but you didn’t want to assume he wanted attempt number two to happen tonight. 

“You want my mouth like Yunho? I’ll let you use my throat. Let you cum down it, I’ll even show you before I swallow if you want.” You slip your hand inside finally, holding him just under the tip, letting your thumb rub against the head, coaxing precum to ooze out so you can use it to wet the rest of his cock. 

Never in your life did you think you were capable of saying the shit coming out of your mouth. You were much too shy, always compliant and ready to please whoever you took to bed. It was hard to even ask for foreplay in some cases, afraid you were burdening the other person. Mingi’s whines were much too pretty, though. You could feel his heavy breathing, feel his skin heating up, hear the harsh intakes of oxygen when he wasn’t letting out a salacious moan. Every upward stroke of your hand ended in squeezing the mushroom tip, relieving the pressure of your hand stroking downward, and tightening it when going up again. You keep tabs on his reactions, making sure you aren't squeezing too hard, or going too fast. And when he starts rolling his hips in time with the movement of your wrist, you figure you’re doing a good job.

Your mouth is still resting against his jaw, letting your lips brush against it with every word when you say, “Or I can just make you cum like this, fucking my hand like some virgin. What? All it takes is two minutes of having your dick touched to blo-” 

The suddenness of his movements leaves you shocked and unprepared. One second you're leaving streaks of saliva on his jaw, halfway wrapped around him, fully pressed to his front. The next your back meets the mattress, head partially on your pillow, with what looks like a lust demon standing on his knees between your legs. Thighs pushed up and back with how close his lower half is pressed against your core. Your feet dangle next to his ribs on either side of him, your knees almost pushing into your tits. The fact you're still in sweat pants and an oversized band shirt does little to make the position look any less lewd. 

His once dark chocolate irises are now swallowed up by his pupils, the way his eyes narrowed (only half heartedly in irritation) made it look like they were black holes boring into you. His bangs are messy over his forehead, and the tops of his cheeks and neck are tinged pink. His hands pin your wrists next to your hips, arms straight down your sides. Now it's your turn to breathe heavily, you weren't sure what to expect with the look on his face. 

“Thats’s enough of that. Don’t get too cocky just because you got me out of my clothes first, baby.” 

Arousal floods your panties. Turning him into a whiny heap gives you a feeling of pride, a taste of power new to you, but the sound of him trying to put you in your place sends a rush of adrenaline that you haven't been able to get anywhere else.

“We can talk about Yunho later, but while you're under me I don't wanna hear his name come out of that pretty, talented mouth,  got it?” He raises an eyebrow at you and you nod quickly, eyes wide. 

He squeezes your wrists and pushes them into the sides of your body, giving you a quick shake “Words, baby. I always wanna hear words.” 

“Yeah! Yes!” You squeak out, voice high pitched out of surprise.

He smiles down at you, all his teeth showing. It would look terrifying if you didn't know him. He lets go of your wrists and grabs the hem on your sweat pants, ripping them off, causing your legs to fly straight up in the air and then back in their previous position. 

His eyes fall between your legs and he laughs, “You called me a virgin?” He brings a finger down to where his eyes were zeroed in and presses directly in the middle of the wetness soaking the seat of your panties. The fabric bends at the pressure and pushes his finger between your lower lips, so close to your entrance, running it up and down between your slit through your underwear. “I think this is more pathetic. You haven't even seen my dick and you're already wet for it?”

Good fucking christ. Mingi? Sweet, sensitive Mingi? If you thought degrading someone sounded wrong coming out your mouth, it sounded downright damning hearing it from him.

“Y-you sounded so pretty, Min. It was so hot, couldn't help it.” You fight to reply through a moan, he decides to move his finger up and circle your clit, putting pressure on it at different intervals.

“Hmmm, good answer.” You almost scream when he stops, “It was still pretty mean though,” frowning he bends forward to hover over you “Let me use you? Can I do that? I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.” 

You don't even hesitate, “Fuck yes,”

You felt like he was eating you alive with the urgency he was kissing you with. You could feel your lips swelling in real time with every lick and press. His hands are frantic, pushing the hem of your shirt up to your neck, not bothering to fully take off either of your underwear. Using his thumb he pulls the black fabric aside, holding it in the crease of your thigh, and the other hand pulls the band of his down just enough. 

“You have me rock solid, sweetheart.” He rubs the head of his cock through the sticky mess of your core. Mesmerizing himself with the way your pussy lips spread around his tip as he runs it up and down your seam. Every couple of passes he pushes up the hood and grinds it into your clit, your moans pitching each time.

He's not even inside of you yet and you feel like going cross eyed. Every press to your clit pushes out a new stream of wetness, rivuleting down and staining the comforter. He only stops when it's so messy that every time his cock splits your lips it's too slippery to keep it controlled. 

“Think you're wet enough to take me? Your pussy’s gushing like a goddamn waterfall. You think it can swallow all of me without stretching you out first?” He rasps. You feel so warm, soft, and squishy just on the outside, the thought of how you’ll feel wrapped fully around him nearly sends him into cardiac arrest. 

“Mhm!” Is all you're able to respond with, already overwhelmed. The nasty words, the urgency of his movements, the feeling of finally getting what you've always wanted. All of it had you panting and dizzy, overly excited like a puppy. 

Your response is good enough for him. He tucks his hands under your knees, guiding them up and out to the sides as he notches himself at your entrance. It takes a minute, but eventually he's able to feed his entire length inside you. The stretch wasn’t agonizing, but definitely a feat. His dick leaves no spot untouched, punching the air out of your gut. Your arms flail out to the sides, above you, trying to grab onto anything within your reach. When all they could reach was the wall and a plush of a little blue and white robot video game character you settled with crossing your forearms over your eyes. 

“Holy shit,” he moans your name “Baby, c’mere. You gotta see this.” He uncovers your eyes, lifting your arms away and pulling you up, bringing one arm around your back and the other hand cupping the back of your head forcing you to look down where the two of you connect. The stretch of you around him is downright obscene, and a faint outline of his cock below your belly button is visible through your tummy. 

“Big,” you sigh, a soft smile gracing your face as you let your head fall back as much as it can in his hold. A grunt gets caught in his chest at the way your cunt squeezes him. He grins down at you, “You feel like a fucking dream.” 

He starts a slow roll with his hips, thumbs digging into the crease behind your knees with every thrust that practically punches your cervix. He’s cursing himself, they’ve been fucking up. He wonders how long he and Yunho could've been churning your guts by now if they had stopped only speculating what it would be like and made moves to make it happen. 

He tosses your legs up so the pit of your knees rests in the hinge of his elbows, kneeling up and pushing them up to your ears. Your yelp turns into a sobbing moan, arms wrapping around his neck and hanging off him like a koala. The shift had him perfectly hitting that spot that had black stars flashing in your vision. “Oh my fuc-, Mingi.” You cry into his ear.

“I know,” he coos, tone mocking comfort. “I know, pretty girl. You’re so pretty, you know that?” He draws his hips back. “Pretty when you come to support our stages,” He slams forward with a nasty body roll, pushing you back onto the mattress.” Pretty when you come over for movie night,” He kisses you, tongue flicking out and spitting over yours before massaging into your lips with another kiss. He pulls back out, “Pretty when you’re taking this dick like a fuckin’ pornstar.” The next thrusts comes faster, harder, hip bones smashing together in a clap of skin on skin. The moans won't stop pouring out of your mouth into his. A steady, unconscious stream that he inhales like oxygen. You want to respond, but your vocabulary has been limited to “Mingi,” “Oh god,” “Yes,” and “Fuck,”.

He pulls away, looking at how your eyes are screwed shut, eyebrows flipped up, and mouth hanging open. It doesn't feel real to him. He should feel a little guilty, not telling Yunho he was coming over here. To be fair, he didn't think this would happen. He thought he would just come to apologize, make sure you didn't hate their guts. While they agreed that neither of them had a claim on you it still made him feel a little bad, knowing that he's felt the same way just as long as Mingi has. 

All thoughts of his best friend are wiped from his brain when he feels your cunt clenching, the drag through your soft walls getting tighter and tighter, harder to push through as fast as he wants. 

“Mingi, gonna cum.” You gasp, wet, teary eyes flying open at the way the feeling slams into you, “Feels so fu-fucking good. Don't stop, please.” Tears flow down your cheek, racing down the side of your temples and into your hair line. That tight pressure twists and twists, getting so uncomfortable you need it to let go now. You take the little strength you have and lift your hips to fuck back into him, rubbing your clit over the hard muscles of his abdomen to get what you need from him.

“Fuck, wait-” Mingi's hand flies down to your hip, gripping it hard. He's not sure if he wants to help or stop you, but once he sees the warble in your bottom lip, like you're going to burst into tears over not being able to cum, he realizes he’ll never be able to deny you what you want.

“Can’t wait Min, need it now. Please.” You whine, shoving your face into his neck, squeezing him impossibly closer to you.

“Okay baby, I got you. Anything you want, I’ll give you whatever you want, always.” He encourages, lips pressed into the top of your head, using his hand on your hip to help you chase your pleasure. Your jaw drops against his neck when he starts circling his hips, tongue lolling out and sliding against his skin every tiny you're  shoved up his body. When a shuddering moan bleeds into the space between the two of you he hones in, slamming you on his length at a steady rhythm, until your moaning his name over and over, cumming with violent, all over body shakes.

He quickly bands an arm around your lower back, and pushes you all the way down to the hilt, giving small pumps of his hips. The constant clenching and spasming of your walls making it almost unbearable for him to keep it together.

“Good fucking girl,” He moans, “You gonna be my best girl though? Let me make this pretty cunt messy?” 

“Wanna be your best girl, Min. Please, let me be yours.” You cry, face still in his neck. His heart clenches at your plea, for a moment he lets himself think about what it would be like for you to be his. Coming home from late night schedules to you sleeping in his bed, taking you on vacations, bringing you to meet his mom when the holidays come around. He'd love you so hard and treat you better than all the dumb fucks he's had to listen to you cry over for years. 

But life is more complicated than that, especially when someone he's known for 10 years shares his obsession over you. 

He sits up straight, peeling his sticky skin off of yours. Your legs fall over his thighs, gasping for air, pretty round tits bouncing with every punch of his hips. Your hair is knotted at the root, splayed out around you in a halo like the angel he sees you as, some pieces stuck to you spit slicked lips. You look wrecked, absolutely sex dumb, all because of him. He pulls out abruptly, causing you to groan at the sudden emptiness, working his hand over himself until white paints all over your shiny folds. 

You could barely hear the fan whirring above you over the sound of you pulling in as much oxygen as you could back into your lungs. The textured swirls on the ceiling come into view as your blurry vision clears, but you can't be damned to count them this time. For one, you don't think you could count to ten right now, and another, Mingi leans over you and fills your vision.

Cupping your face, he runs his thumbs under your eyes “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you smile, resting your hands on his wrists. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“No urge to run away, if that's what you're worried about.” You reassure, turning your face in his hands to kiss his palm. He smiles back at you and hums, “Good to know.” Brushing the hair out of your face he continues, “I’ll clean you up and then we should get some rest. I know you didn't get any sleep last night.” 

You nod, a yawn breaking through to further prove his point. Mingi sits up and you follow, sitting up on your elbows, the soft, worn in fabric of your shirt falling back down to cover you a bit more. A thought hits you suddenly, nerves consuming you all over again.

“Uh, hey, Min. Does Yunho know you came over?” His hands freeze on the band of his boxers, just having finished pulling them up. He looks to the side and scratches at his chest, “No, he doesn't. I didn't want him to try to stop me.” 

“Oh,” you trail off, not sure what to say. 

“He won't be mad. If anything he’ll be stoked to know you don't hate us.” He runs a reassuring hand up and down your shin. You want to believe him, he does know Yunho the best, but you know Yunho too. Competitive Yunho. Jealous Yunho.

But you choose to give him the benefit of doubt, “You know him, best.” Mingi leans over to press a light kiss to your lips, “Where’s the bathroom?” 

After giving him directions, he picks his phone up from his sweats on the ground to set an alarm for the morning, when he's met with a set of notifications that makes his heart skip a beat and turns his hands clammy.

Your bratty attitude landed you in the position you were in, bent over the arm of the black leather sofa. One too many complaints about redoing the chorus of the title track to your new album and Hongjoong lost the patience that has been hanging by a thread for the last week of working with you. Nevermind your teasing touches and all of the innuendos thrown his way by you, it was your continuous lack of work ethic that made him snap and put you in your place.

A firm hand gripped the hair at the crown of your head, bunched up in a fist at the root of your hair while the other hand worked you on his cock. Slamming your hips against his pelvis, splatters of your wetness leaving droplets on the side of the sofa, coating your inner thighs and his pelvis. Hongjoong was thankful for the sound proofness of his studio, your wailing and the sound of your messy pussy would be echoing down the company hallway if not for it. 

“Such a pretty voice. If only you could sound this pretty when I asked you to, you wouldn't be wasting my time and crying on my cock.” Hongjoong pushes out through gritted teeth. The slide of him in your tight walls felt fucking magical he could nut in you then and there. But he had a lesson to teach. 

“I’m s-s-orry,” you manage to moan out. Probably the 35th time you've apologized since he pushed your face into the cold leather and split you open. He’s so thick, the way he fills you up each time he punches his hips forwards, fucking bruises into the hinge where your upper thighs meets your lower abdomen on the arm of the couch, it's overwhelming in the best way possible. 

He laughs a wicked laugh, “Spoiled brats like you are never sorry,” he spits. “You just don't want to suffer the consequences of your actions.” He curls the fist in your hair tighter, making your scalp stings. You hiss, bringing a hand up from the couch cushion to grab at his wrist and alleviate the pain. You yelp and drop your hand back down when he just tugs harder, pulling your body up to hover parallel to the ground. The hand digging into your hip moves to your mouth, palm covering your lips, the side of his thumb resting right under your nose, the other four fingers curving around the side of your face digging into your cheek. He stops his brutal thrusts, only after shoving himself so far inside that you feel like he's inside your stomach.

Leaning down and pressing his lips right against your ear, his words send a pulsing throb straight to your clit, “I don't want to hear another apology come out of your pathetic mouth. All I want to hear is the pretty pitch of these slutty moans, got it princess?” All you can do is attempt a nod, which seems good enough for him. He nips at your ear lob right before he pulls away and resuming sawing into you. Thank god it's easy for the moans to spill free through his palm, at this angle all words seem to disappear from your brain anyways. 

He's deceptively strong, being able to hold your body up just by the hold he has on your hair and the press of his hand around your mouth. The tips of your fingers barely graze the arm of the couch as he rolls his hips into you. Your scalp stings, you already know you won't be able to wear extensions for awhile. You’ll have to come up with

an excuse for your stylist, definitely can't let them know you were fucking the producer your father hired. 

He switches up the angle of his thrusts, making you jerk and clench around his cock particularly harder than you been, “Oh fuck. There we go, baby. Keep clenching around this dick like that. I’ll be filling this pussy up in no time.” The moan you let out sounds like it's not being muffled by his hand at all. The tightness in your tummy increased, that familiar feeling of an orgasm approaching at a dire speed. So fast you panic, wiggling to get away because it felt so intense, bordering on painful. 

“Joong! Joong!” You completely forget his order to stay quiet. He freezes and you could die right then and there. 

He tuts, “Dumb, dumb baby.” Your heart slams in your chest, anxiety spiking at an all time high. What was he going to do? Not let you cum? Drag it out? Make you beg? All of it sounds like torture in this moment, you were so fucking close you wanted to do Hongjoong the honors and just slap yourself for being such an idiot.

He guides you back over the arm of the chair and removes the grip on your hair, but keeps his hand pressed tight against your mouth. “You’re such a shit listener. I can't really blame you fully though, that's just how you were raised, huh? Getting everything you want, not having to really work for it.” He runs a finger down the length of your spine to the dip in your lower back, dragging in to the side and around your waist to your front where he pinches your clit suddenly. You squeal and kick out your legs as much as you could with how close he was pressed against you. Unsurprisingly it doesn't deter him in the slightest, he keeps his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger in a tight squeeze around the nub. 

The breathing through your nose gets quicker and quicker, try to take in as much oxygen as you can to calm yourself down. Hongjoong sighs, “The only way to learn is to show you that if you don't do what you’re asked, you lose something in return.” 

Before you can even ponder what he means, your ability to breathe through your nose vanishes. The pressure around your nostrils is what alerts your sex dumb brain that his thumb from the hand still wrapped around your mouth has come up to pinch your nose shut with the edge of his index finger. Instincts kick in and you're shaking your head, trying to rip away the pressure against your face. But he just follows the jerks of your hand, eventually yanking you back by the face until your body is pressed long against him. Hooking his elbow around your shoulder and holding your back tight against his chest.

“You breathe when I cum,” He states with his lips pushed up against the side of your hair. The pressure of your face increases, wanting so badly to sob but your chest just jerks in small pulses. He keeps his angle, spearing directly into the spot that would make you scream if you could. You squeeze your thighs together tight, lungs burning, not knowing how much longer you have before you lose consciousness. 

As for Hongjoong, he was seconds away from cumming before he even took your, literal, breath away. He may use extreme methods to whip a brat like you in shape, but he's not cruel. 

The tightness of your thighs squeezing together, the pulsing of your slick walls around him, bends over with a deep groan, tapering off into a moan, “That's right, make me cum. Listen for once in your life, c’mon princess. This one time, do as you’re told.” He orders you as he rolls your clit lightly between his knuckles. Your eyes slip shut, pushing tears over your water line and down your cheeks. Your chest swells with pleasure and the pressure of losing oxygen. Fuzzy black and gray dots appear behind your eye lids, time starts feeling like it's moving slower. 

All it takes is a singular clench around his cock and it's over for him. He’s cumming deep inside you with a deep moan, and winded sounding “Fuuuuuck,”. He switches to pressing the pads of his index and middle finger to your clit, rubbing quick swipes along the bundle of nerves as he drops his hand from your mouth to resting lightly on your throat.

Oxygen rushes through your airway, the relief feels almost euphoric as the fluttering in your cunt from the way Hongjoong is playing with you so deliciously.

“Please,” Your hoarse voice begs. You know he has no reason to let you cum, but you hope that maybe he'll get caught up in the moment and let you anyway.

“Have you learned your lesson?” He asks through his heavy breathing, biting through the over stimulation to feed you small thrusts. 

“Yes, Joong! I promise, I’m sorry I swear! I’ll listen!” You sob, nodding your head as fast as you could. Fuck you’re too cute. He wasn’t going to deny you an orgasm, it was never part of the plan, but your begging is so sweet. You sound genuinely concerned about what he's going to do. 

“Cum then, prove it. Prove that you're a good girl and not the spoiled brat that walked into my studio last week.” The pressure on your clit increases a fraction and the bubble in your tummy pops, warm tingles spreading through your veins. The sound that comes out of you is broken and embarrassing but you don't care. How could you when you feel like you've been revived from the brink of death? By a sexy, broody, music producer no less? 

 The pattern of your breathing syncs up with his, grateful for the hold he has on you so your knees didn't have to kiss the floor. 

Eventually he speaks, “You gonna keep your word?” 

You scoff and let out a clipped laugh, “I dunno, I might need a reminder of why I should. Your methods are weak.”