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xerotiny99 · 6 months

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Game Night Gone Wrong // Our Precious #2

Game Night Gone Wrong (Our precious series #2)

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Warnings: smut, dom!yunho, soft dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, threesome, striptease, big dick yunho, masturbating, throat-fucking/blowjob, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation (Yunho's got a dirty mouth), praising/praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, pussy slapping (yikes), hair pulling and a lot of teasing.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable with any of the mentioned tags. :) PS: this got too long, and I got too lazy to divide this into parts. PPS: the initial part of the smut might seem like it's nonconsensual, but it is completely consensual. Again, apologies for keeping this too long, don't let the word count intimidate you from the smutty goodness. ;)

Gist: you decide to make an appearance at this supposed game night Jongho was talking about. Unfortunately, you did not know how badly riled up you'd become after meeting his seven other flatmates which also includes Yunho; the man who sees it as a perfect opportunity to stay true to his word but there's someone else who also craves to touch you. Wait...is it only one person who's interested in you?

Word Count: 16,452

Standing in front of the wooden door, the one moored with the numbers "405" in silver chrome, you're hesitant to raise your hand ring the doorbell. There you were, in front of Jongho's apartment, the one he shares with seven other men. The apparent loft was located a little farther from the university, situated on the east side of the city where the streets are abuzz. You've been to this part of the town, the quiet by day and busy by night kinda place—this area has a lot of interesting spots, one of them being Jongho's loft where eight people are residing.

Tiny tremors have already taken up the space under your skin, demurring your sense of self to the awaiting incredulity on the other side of the door. You take a deep breath in, letting out with a feigned smile as you bring out your phone to text the only man you knew inside. Technically, two of them. Your phone buzzes in your hand, even before you could send a text to your friend; having received a text, which reads 'are you coming over?' from Yunho, you brace yourself and heave out another sigh.

"Here goes nothing," you mumble to yourself, dipping your finger against the elevated button as a mellow ding rings inside, loud and clear, however.

You could hear muffled whispers coming from the other side. Anticipation had numbed a part of you, shattering the reality when the locks click, and the door flings open inside. The man who stood there was staring at you with a small smile, comforting. Though, you could only focus on how well-mannered he seemed, even from his body language—he was gorgeous.

He ushers you in, "oh, you must be Angel. I didn't expect you to be this early, actually."

"Jongho gave me the time..." you trail.

"Ah, then I believe he must've mixed up some of his timings. I apologise on his behalf."

"It's fine, to be honest."

You shrug and step inside; the vestibule has a shoe rack to the side, housing house slippers and other accessories. There's a coat rack right beside it where the ebony haired man hangs your coat after asking you to hand it to him. He picks out a pair of house slippers for you to wear, laying them on the floor as you take your time slipping out of your boots and into them. As he leads you further inside the loft, you notice everything about the place—even the man in front of you. His back faced you as you strode in, but you could gauge him to be as tall as Yunho, maybe a few inches shorter but that didn't matter much. He was clad in a beige dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top to expose bit of his tanned skin and pairing the shirt with dark brown pants. The ruly strands of his hair were permed, and framed his face neatly, even though a few of it laid flat on his forehead.

The narrow hallway leads you to the living room from the vestibule, where you find three men lounging leisurely on the couch and the floor. The living room was minimally decorated with the centre space being occupied by the couch and two chairs seemingly from the same set, a wooden coffee table was situated in front of the couch and a long cabinet was placed behind the couch. On top of the cabinet were few glass showpieces and magazines strewn on about, not making it seem crowded; your eyes stray past it and to the long sliding doors at the back, aligned in the same lines of the cabinet. The doors opened to a small balcony apparently, but the curtains were draped over to give you any sight of the evening outside. There was no television in the living room but oddly enough there were set of three hallways which ran along three different directions. You wondered where those took you to, even more so, you wondered how huge this loft actually was if it was housing eight people.

You focus back on the men, two of them were seated on the couch, close together and the other one sat down, between the couch and the coffee table, leaning against the couch as he scrolled through his phone. One of the two sitting on the couch has a broad yet teasing smile on his face, as he mumbles softly at the person to his right and the person to his right...he was actually breathtaking—he didn't try to hide the annoyance on his face as the other teased him on. However, the one sitting down on the floor was a little too lost in his world to even acknowledge your presence. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, but you played along anyway.

"Guys, Angel's here." The man leading you announces, capturing the attention of the others. "Be nice to her."

His warning tone makes the other three scoff, but unbothered by their response, he turns to you and offers you an even wider smile. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get you something to drink..."

He's two steps ahead of you but then swivels on his heels and murmurs awkwardly, "I'm Seonghwa. If you need anything else, just let me know."

With that he's off, sauntering down another hallway to the right, merging with the open spaced kitchen. You take another deep breath, rummaging your eyes through the scene in front of you. The teasing guy has his hair pulled back in a half ponytail, a few streaks of blond stitched in between his black hair; he seems smug, and defiant, probably a delinquent.

"Hi," he initiates, a lazy smile on his face. "Come on, take a seat."

He shifts on the couch, purposely sliding closer to the man onto his right, as to make space for you on his left. "Only the best seat in Wooyoung's house for a pretty woman like you."

Listening to him, the other one scoffs, "tone down on your confidence, Woo."

"Flirting is all about confidence, Sangie," he keeps his teasing tone low and pinches the man's cheeks. "Right, Angel?"

"Uhhh..."

"Please ignore him, he's a little straightforward and hasn't learnt how to speak to women properly," the said man rolls his eyes, "on a serious note, please sit anywhere but next to him."

"Ugh, you always treat me like a sick joke..." Wooyoung sighs, dramatically throwing himself off to the other side of the couch. "I'm nothing but a man with a good heart."

"Your exes say otherwise, but okay."

As the two continue back and forth with their unsolicited burns and remarks, you decide to make yourself comfortable on the chair adjacent to the couch, seemingly belonging to the set of the seating arrangement. Two pair of eyes follow you as you sit down and pull the hem of your skirt down in an attempt to cover whatever it could. You were slightly regretting your dressing choices; you wore a black skirt which rode upto your mid thighs and paired it with a red crop top which was tucked in your skirt. Going a little overboard, you even wore thigh high socks, ending an inch below the skirt. You didn't bother with makeup and kept it light, having only applied light blush and peachy eyeshadow, and gloss on your lips.

The third man was least interested in meeting you or even getting the introductions started. You noticed how buff he was, not much compared to the man sitting on the couch right above him; but he was toned in places a man should be, and regrettably, his body was mostly hidden behind an oversized cloak of red sweatshirt and baggy sweats. Wooyoung had a casual approach to his outfit, wearing a black jacket with its zipper pulled all the way down till the middle of his chest, revealing a simple white graphic tee under it complementing the outfit with baggy sweatpants; on the other hand, the man next to him, having awe-inspiring features and a body worth drooling on, has black hair growing out till his shoulders, wore a black woven cardigan and a black tank top underneath, with black jogger shorts. Black was his shade, since his skin was stark and as fair as the snow, like Yunho.

"Jongho talks a lot about you," Wooyoung begins, grinning. "It's nice to meet you in person, finally. Name's Wooyoung and this is Yeosang, don't pay him any mind, he's a little vapid. And umm, that's Mingi. Hey, Mingi, why don't you introduce yourself."

He nods to the man sitting on the floor, who then actually takes a little effort to glance your way. Mingi grunts in return for your dazed smile, which already tells you that it's going to be hard to get along with him.

"Mingi, that's rude," Seonghwa chimes, keeping a smile on his face as he emerges out of the hallway with a tray of drinks in his hand, "introduce yourself properly."

The latter takes it as a warning and clears his throat, "Mingi, Song Mingi." he eyes you for a second before turning to Seonghwa, "that's the best you'd get from of me."

Seonghwa sighs, placing the tray of drinks on the coffee table and urging you to pick a glass, "I really apologise for his behaviour, but have a drink and try not to pay him any heed."

You reflect back with a smile and pick a glass filled with cola, "thank you."

"So, you're in Jongho's department, right?" Seonghwa asks, sitting next to Wooyoung. "We've heard a lot about you from him, actually. He's always gushing about you and how much he likes to hang out with you."

Okay, you didn't know the latter of that.

"I really didn't know that..." you mumble, taking a sip of cola. "We're friends. Right. We share same subject groups so, he's my only friend, to be honest. And he's enough so I didn't bother making any more friends."

"Hey, now you have us!" Wooyoung cheers, "any friend of Jongho's is our friend."

"Calm down, Wooyoung," Yeosang rolls his eyes, "for the better part of it, I'll have to agree with him. From now on, we're your friends too. So, don't hesitate."

Seonghwa chirps, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he talks, "you're in your sophomore year, right?

"Final semester," you mutter, "in few months I'll be in my junior year. Just as Jongho."

Seonghwa nods, "I hope you're not feeling uncomfortable with us; all these unfamiliar faces..."

"I'm good, actually." You reassure and Wooyoung adds, "I think I have seen you around the campus, so not an unfamiliar face to take a sight of—maybe you've seen me around too, I am a culinary major."

Even though you wouldn't admit it to yourself, or them, you had long forgotten about the awkwardness without Jongho being here. And, deeming Wooyoung as a culinary major was something you probably never even considered in your wildest dreams. One by one, after Wooyoung's little introduction, the others take his lead and talk about themselves.

"I'm a college dropout," Yeosang begins, "and now I'm a freelancer. I mostly do graphic design and illustration."

You nod, intently listening to them.

"I graduated last year." Seonghwa says, "now, I work full time as a software designer for a small startup company."

Intriguing.

There was something about Seonghwa you found alluringly interesting, like maybe it was the way he spoke to you, or the way he engaged with the other guys. Expectantly, you glance over at Mingi, hoping, he too, would have something to say or add to the discussion. Everyone's eyes are on him, expecting.

Mingi croons his neck up to meet your eyes, and he sighs, "I'm a dance major and I graduate soon."

So... similar to Yunho?

You see him lock his phone and stuff it into the pocket of his sweatpants, not uttering a word further; Seonghwa clears his throat and casts a longing gaze at the front door.

"Others will be here soon," he says, grabbing a glass of sprite from the tray. "I actually sent Jongho and San out to get us some beers, there's only one six pack left in the fridge. And I also did not expect you to come early." he was informing you of Jongho's whereabouts, "Hongjoong and Yunho are usually the late ones because of their work."

At the mention of Yunho, your stomach lurches and your mind recalls to the night you two had lost yourself in the heat of the moment—you were hiding it pretty well, at least, you thought you were. There's nothing trapped between your teeth, there's no evident clues to that night for anyone to know; let alone anyone would doubt you two had interacted before. Though, your heart claims to have an intense anticipation for this night to unfold, considering Yunho had warned you that he would fuck you senseless if you showed up tonight. And here you were...

"Beer gets us going," Wooyoung comments, eyeing Yeosang. "But this one needs wine."

"How is that relevant in this context?" the latter deadpans, causing Mingi to chuckle softly, "he's intending to say you've got an expensive taste, Sangie."

Yeosang pouts, "wine tastes better than beer."

"I'd drink to that," Seonghwa laughs along, raising his glass and looking at you, "I hope you're not a lightweight. Unless you don't drink at all."

"I do. Occasionally." you grimace at the memory sitting far back in your head, the first time you drank alcohol (beer) wasn't really worth it. "I am not so fond of alcohol, though. Who says you need to have alcohol to have fun?"

"I do," Wooyoung deadpans.

"No one asked you—"

Yeosang grows silent in his words upon hearing the lock to the front door rattle; soon, it's being pushed inside with a heavy voice—which you could never forget—grumbling to someone. The first person to walk in the living room is a blue haired man, a lot shorter than Yunho, carrying a leather laptop bag and a roll of red fabric in his hand. He somehow manages to stumble across the floor to the long dining table in front of the kitchen—dumping the stuff on top of the table, he slumps himself on the chair and sighs. Yunho is the second person to walk inside, followed by Jongho and other man with sharp eyes and features.

"I told you that man was weird!" the one with sharp eyes groans, and Yunho sighs, "but you didn't have to say that right to his face, did you now, Sannie?"

"If we hadn't made a sound, it would've gotten weirder," Jongho adds, walking in with a couple of polythene bags crinkling in his hands.

"He almost licked my neck!" the other—apparently named Sannie or to your understanding, San as Seonghwa mentioned it before, groans, "that's why I never take the elevator."

"I only suggested 'cause we had stuff to carry." Jongho raises his hands to show him the bags he carried in them. "I didn't think Mr. Yoshida would follow us in."

"Guys, drop it," the blue haired man tuts from the table, raising his head to meet your eyes, "we've got a guest, might as well show her a little respect."

He smiles at you before getting up from his chair; and that's when the others' heads turn toward you. Jongho grins wide, Yunho smirks, and San appears to have wide eyes and rounded lips, confused as if.

"Angel!" Jongho squeals, taking tiny hop-like steps toward you; his arms open wide as to hug you.

Placing your glass back on the tray, you find yourself rushing to him to get his hug. You round the coffee table from the other side as Mingi sat still on the couch's side and scoffed at your excitement to hug your friend. You and him are going to have problems getting along if you ever decide to hang out with the guys in the future. Seamlessly, you wrap your arms around Jongho's chest as he somehow manages to return the embrace with the bags in his hands.

"You made it!" he mumbles, pulling back.

"She was early," Seonghwa quips, getting up from the couch and heading to the kitchen. "You gave her the wrong time, baby bear."

"Hmm, I really apologise," he pouts, backing away from you and eventually tiptoeing to the kitchen, you follow him, a smile on your face.

"It's okay, baby bear," you tease him only to get a reaction out of him. And he groans, "that name isn't sticking. Please."

You shake your head, as you lean over the kitchen island and watch him place the bags on top of it. The polythene bags crinkle as he keeps them down and proceeds to take out their contents; there's chinese takeout in two of the bags, and the other one had a six pack. You're about to initiate a conversation with Jongho until you're interrupted by a sleek yet hoarse voice.

"So, you're Angel..." a soft voice resounds from behind you and when you turn, you find the blue haired man smiling at you, "I'm Hongjoong and I believe you've heard this from everyone here, but Jongho can't shut up about you."

You glance at Jongho. "Awww..."

"Ahhh, please. Stop it!" he whines louder, blushing.

"What? It's the truth." Hongjoong grins, "I'll freshen up while the others set up everything. Usually our game nights happen much later in the night. We made an exception for you 'cause this one's been nagging us for days now about inviting you."

He offers you a gentle smile before disappearing down the hallway leading to the left of the kitchen; his stringent yet relaxed posture had an imposed meaning behind his personality. From the way body language seemed more pronounced in the royal blue suit he adorned himself in and the way he hushed others, you could tell he was a domineering man. Someone whose authoritativeness would bring any woman down to her knees—you were thinking too much. Or were you really?

The desolate kitchen is rejoiced with Seonghwa's harmless little scolds directed at Jongho, but before you could comprehend any of their tiff, an arm snakes around your waist, with a presence warming up your side.

"Hey, Angel," his deep voice was like nectar, dripping in your ears and snaring your mind to his will. "Glad you could make it. Good choice. Good decision. And good thinking..." his words trail off to a whisper as he leans near your ear, "...but keeping my word—oh wait—keeping my promise, I'm going to keep you to myself for this night. I hope you're prepared for that."

His arm skims down your waist, fingers fluttering below and under your skirt as his tickling touches caress your inner thighs. That's it. He doesn't inch his hand closer to your aroused cunt; you were wet, you knew—his words were riling you up with every ounce of strength in them. In retrospect, you were playing out the night in your head where he'd be fucking you the way he wants to, the way he promises to.

Clasping your bottom lip with your teeth, you try to squeeze your thighs, to get that extra little friction to feel something (at least). Though, it had slipped your mind that his hand was still holding onto one of your thighs; catching up on your intentions, he lightly smacks your inner thigh and draws out a yelp from your lips. Your cunt clenches around nothing, feeling the heated rumble in your chest and the exasperated urge to have him stuffed in you.

The sound you let out attracted the squabbling pair; they cast their eyes on you, weary and dubious, silently judging the interaction between you two. You could call it your luck, but the two weren't able to get a view of what was happening behind the kitchen island.

"Are you alright, Angel?" Yunho feigns his concern, taking a small step away from you.

"Feeling under the weather?" Jongho urges, lips pouting slightly. "Do you want to leave...?"

"I'm okay," you voice out, taking a deep breath. "Yunho was talking about how peaches bruise easily and I just happened to gasp, dramatically."

"No double entendres, right Yun?" Seonghwa jokes and Yunho nods his head, "really, nothing of the sort. Just a casual conversation."

He clears his throat, "By any means, I'll take your leave. I need to freshen up and change my clothes. Jongho, go help the others set the living room."

With a ribbing curve stretching on his lips, Yunho excuses himself and saunters away from you down the hallway on the right. The moment he's out of your eyesight, Jongho slides next to you, purposely bumping into your hips as he does. Meanwhile, Seonghwa picks out the takeout containers and other necessities before leaving the two of you in the kitchen.

"Angel," Jongho murmurs, "are you trying to impress someone."

He's smug.

You shake your head, refusing to meet his eyes as he leans over to taunt you. "Shut up! Why would I need to impress any of your flatmates?"

"The way you're dressed, I guess," he shrugs, staring at you from top to bottom, "thigh high socks, that skirt, that top. Modest make-up. You wouldn't take this much effort if you weren't trying to impress someone."

"Hmm...so, who is it?" he nudges your arm, his lips pressed together—a line struck with jealousy, probably.

"Jongho, you're getting the wrong idea, why would I really want to impress any of the guys I barely know?" You pout, glancing at him for a hot second before reverting back to staring down at your fingers as you tapped them away on the island counter.

"I don't know, for starters they're all good looking." he turns on his feet and leans against the countertop, "maybe you're seeking out a relationship with someone. Either it's been too long since you've gotten laid or someone here has intrigued you enough to date them."

"Jongho..."

He interrupts, "is it Yunho?"

"What?"

"Do you like Yu—"

"—living room has been...am I interrupting something?" Seonghwa questions, stopping a few steps short from the two of you.

"Oh, it's nothing," Jongho murmurs, sounding a little bitter. "We were discussing a few things related to our classes."

Seonghwa nods and you stifle a silly whine, the stupefying urge to confront Jongho about his nonchalant sneer at your outfit. The older picks up a few more things from the kitchen before heading out; two of you follow him to the living room, with Jongho not uttering a single word. Sighing to yourself, you find the coffee table in the living room was pushed to a side, leaving the centre carpeted space to be occupied. Others were already sitting in a circle, eating out of the Chinese takeout containers —you lurk behind a little as the sitting arrangements played out. Jongho clears his throat and sits next to Mingi, leaning back against the couch where Seonghwa makes himself comfortable. Wooyoung, Yeosang and San, they sat opposite to the couch, slumping themselves against the coffee table as support.

You take a deep breath, put on a frail smile as you sit down next to San on the lush and soft carpet; the man offers you a dimpled smile and hands you a takeout container along with chopsticks and a bottle of beer. Helplessly, you eye Jongho from the corner of your vision, as he too starts guzzling down food from his own container. Sitting next to Jongho would have made either of you uncomfortable since the harmless squabble between you two had been left unresolved. You were doing it out of spite, however.

"So, what are we playing tonight?" Yeosang pipes in, gazing around and pointing his stained chopsticks at Seonghwa.

Seonghwa shrugs, "we'll keep it light. Nothing which strains Angel's ease or brings her discomfort."

"Damn," Wooyoung winces, "I was about suggest strip-uno."

San rolls his eyes, glaring at the said man—slowly chewing the bite of chicken in his mouth, "I sometimes wonder how your brain functions."

"It probably doesn't," Jongho adds, earning a whine from the latter. "Suggest something else."

"How about strip-monopoly?" Wooyoung suggests, eyebrow twitching in a goading manner.

"Anything which has strip in it will be rebuked; so, something else has to work," Seonghwa utters with annoyance, fixing himself a container of noodles.

"To be fair, I don't have any problem playing 'strip' games," you shyly enunciate, not meeting anyone's gazes on you. "In all honesty, it sounds fun. And what's the worst that could happen?"

You were joking. In your mind you were considering all worst possible scenarios where things could wrong; you could be taken advantage of and made to strip all the way, you could lose the remaining of your dignity to Yunho in case you go all bare, or—there's no or here, it's too risky to play these games with them.

"We understand your perspective, darling. But we're men and for a woman to engage herself in those kind of games with us is both unethical and unfair," Hongjoong's voice gushes through, offering your spine a dainty tingle. "We will keep it light, and hearty, as Seonghwa said."

He has his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black sweatpants; on top he wears a tank top, exposing his defined arms, not too buff or too lean. The deep cut on his neckline gives you a small glimpse of his chest, eventually delighting you with an accidental nip-slip. It happens again as he carefully sits next to Seonghwa, making sure he doesn't hurt Jongho or Mingi who were leaning against the front of the couch. He runs his hand through his freshly washed hair, sighing out a string of incoherent words as he glances at the man next to him. Seonghwa is quick enough to hand him his share food and as he eats, his eyes occasionally fleet over to you.

"If you bend the rules of your game night for me, then how is that fair and ethical?" you tilt your head to a side, pouting at him. "I'm comfortable with whatever, so I think we should not waste any more time."

Seonghwa chuckles and Hongjoong breaks out into a mischievous smile, keeping his stare on you. "Alright then, we'll play strip-uno as Wooyoung initially suggested."

Darkness swirled in Hongjoong's eyes, the kind of ambiguity which dominates—something like the predator forcing its prey into submission. You were weak already, staring and catching up on the minute details sketched in his eyes, and his lips. Hongjoong had an authority, a commanding aura which could force any one into submission. You were no stranger to these kind of men, and for some reason, you were hella attracted to them.

"Sure," Wooyoung sleazes, smirking. He keeps the takeout to a side, and leans back onto the coffee table to grab what seems to be a deck of cards. "I had already picked these out. And to explain the rules," he trails off, eyeing everyone and shuffling the cards. "Don't worry, Angel. They're quite easy to understand."

Hongjoong begins, "there are less severe penalties for when you fail to match the colour of the cards in the discard pile, or when you draw a card from the draw pile."

"There's a strip penalty when the person before you throws a draw two or draw four in," San says from next to you, "you have to take a shot when you get a wild card from the person before you. And as Hongjoong said, the less severe penalties are truth or dare, and kiss a player, with tongue."

You reel back, repeating his words in your mind, "kiss a player, you guys are okay kissing each other?"

"I've frenched all of them if you're wondering, except for Yunho because I'm not his 'type'." Wooyoung says, passing two bottles of beer to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, "besides, we all have different sexual preferences. It doesn't matter to us."

You nod along, noticing how quiet Mingi had been from the start. He has a problem with you, doesn't he? You heave out a sigh and grin, "alrighty. I understood the rules, so can we start?"

"Aww, are you forgetting about me, Angel?" Yunho's voice ridicules you, followed by his footsteps as he sits next to you. "I'm hurt," he pouts, taking his food container from San as Wooyoung passes it to him. "I'm devastated, really. I hold no significance to you, do I?"

You look at him, cheeks heating up instantly when you catch him staring back at you smugly; the outfit he changed into was far more fitting to his personality than the one he had before. He was wearing a matching red hoodie with Mingi, and black jogger shorts. You notice how well his blue hair contrasted with the hoodie, finding it cute the way some of his strands kissed the collars and hid beneath the hood. His skin was flushed, yet as fair as snow—and his scent was driving you wild. A miasma of musk, cinnamon and vanilla. You were losing your mind sitting next to him.

Though, when you come back to your senses, you realise he's being dramatic. Overly dramatic. You roll your eyes and continue eating, shaking your head as a sly smile stretches your lips. Jongho catches up on your interaction with him, side eyeing you while acknowledging nothing.

"There's too many of you, it's hard to keep up with everyone," you snide at Yunho, your smirk widening. "So, excuse me if I tend to forget 'bout some of you."

"Oh Angel, I'm quite unforgettable, you know," Yunho jeers, sneakily pinching your waist. He leans closer to your ear, whispering under his breath, "but sadly you'll have to wait the night until I show how you much of an exceptional man I am."

"Keep dreaming..." you lean toward him and murmur, "you're really confident in your skills, aren't you? Can't wait to prove you wrong."

"I think I've already proven myself to you the night you—"

"—ahem. I think we should start with the game." Mingi clears his throat, purposely keeping it loud enough for the two of you to pull apart. "I don't know about Yunho, but I've got an early class tomorrow."

"Oh come on, Mingi," Yunho whines, "I'm making a benign effort to be friends with Angel. She seems cool."

Jongho begins, rolling his eyes, "oh, she is. I've already narrated of her tales to you."

Was he sarcastic? You couldn't tell.

Hongjoong sighs, his voice booming, "enough, I can't go on a day without either of you jabbering at each other." Staring at Wooyoung, he calls out, "just deal the cards, Woo."

Soon the cards are dealt and each of you receive seven cards; the games go on, filled with whines, groans, cheers and derisive comments. In the first few rounds, you lose your socks, lucky. Jongho loses his sweatshirt, but he wore a full sleeved shirt under it; Wooyoung was only in his boxers, and you knew Yeosang and Mingi had it planned all along. San, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were borderline drunk to the number of shots they were forced to take. Mingi and Yunho were fully dressed, and neither too drunk because of the shots—although Yunho kept leaning over to your side to whisper filthy things in your ear. You were mostly on guard against him, praying to your own soul to keep San from listening to any of his coquettish remarks.

The current round you were stuck in was supposedly the last round of the night according to Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Surprisingly, everyone agreed to their judgement and no one riposted against them. It shows how influential those two were, and you found that extremely hot. You had two cards in your hand, all of them predicting your victory—that is only if San doesn't snitch on you and makes it hard for you to win. In all likelihood, everyone around you wants you to lose, that's how the game works.

You hold your breath, watching San take his turn after Wooyoung, and all hell comes crashing down onto you when he flicks a draw two on the discarded pile.

Oh no.

You have to strip.

He was saving his best card for the last, which makes his attempt at drawing more cards have a lot more sense. You sigh, dropping your cards down and slouching your shoulders.

"Strip, Angel," Yunho rejoices, nudging your shoulder with his.

"Yes, strip, strip, strip, strip..." Wooyoung chants and the others follow him, except for Mingi, Hongjoong and Seonghwa.

Seonghwa clears his throat, silencing everyone. "You don't have to if you're uncomfortable, Angel."

You shake your head, all the alcohol (especially, the vodka and beer) buzzing in your mind and coerced you to do the unthinkable. You find the hem of your crop top, fingers pinching at the very edge; with a ribald smile on your face, you pull your top over your head and fling it across towards Jongho. He catches it in one of his hands, as his other hand held onto a bottle of beer. These were the consequences of you not keeping a count of how many beers you had guzzled while playing and interacting with San. If your hazy memory serves you right, then San is a bartender and thanks to him showing you how to drink beer and vodka, you were woozy.

Some of the guys whistle at your exposed chest, while some avert their eyes and cover them with the palm of their hand. Yunho wasn't one of the guys to turn a blind eye on you; he stared. Being taller than you gave him an advantage at peeking over your shoulder and since you were slouched, the cups of your bra dangled slightly off—exposing a lot of your deal than you thought. He gulped lightly upon drinking in your curves, and the way your lacy bra hugged your tits—he was drooling at the sight, imagining what it would be like to grope and hold them. They actually seemed perfect for his hands—perfect to knead and suck.

"Angel is a wild one," Wooyoung mumbles lowly, looking away in haste as he realises he had been staring. "Wilder than me, to be honest."

"What?" you shrug, "a draw two means strip. I stripped."

"Yes, but we didn't think you'd actually do it," Jongho hisses through his gritted teeth, crawling the space across to drape his sweatshirt over you.

To your undivided attention, and bewilderment, Jongho belonged to the ones who were caught staring at you; which also included San, and Mingi.

Yunho clicks his tongue, "I certainly did not expect that, certainly did not."

Jongho scoffs at Yunho's reaction and returns back to his place, "no one expected that."

You pout, tugging the ends of Jongho's sweatshirt over your head to cover yourself. "It was fun, though."

You were starting to think it was alcohol talking in your stead.

"Alright, alright," Hongjoong draws everyone's attention, even yours, "like I said, this was supposedly the last round, so let's call it a night. And, Angel," he pauses, perusing your tipsy face, "I think you should stay the night, you're inebriate, regardless not a lot to misguide yourself to your dorm room alone at night. But it's not safe for you to leave in your current state of mind. So, please spend the night here."

You wanted to protest, but then you realised you stayed outside way past the timings of your dormitories, meaning, you'll have to spend the night here and somehow manage to sneak in tomorrow morning.

"Okay..." you nod.

Seonghwa adds, "you can sleep in my bedroom, it has a joint bathroom. Plus it is spacious and has a comfortable bed." he gets up from the couch, keeping his empty bottle of beer down on the carpet, "come on, I'll show you to my room."

You nod again, stumbling up on your feet as you take small strides toward him.

"Okay, whose duty is it to clean tonight?" you hear Hongjoong ask, followed by Mingi's and San's groans. He continues, "clean up before you go to bed, lads. Good night."

A couple of whines resound from behind you as Seonghwa leads you down the hallway to his bedroom. The wooden door has a board hung on it, which reads 'do not disturb' with a much tinier font written below it, 'knock twice in case of emergency'. It makes you wonder of the shenanigans which have occurred in this house. The wooden door opens smoothly inside and you're ushered inside a very neat and clean room.

"I did not get much time to clean around after coming back from work," he apologises, leading you further in.

You did not understand why he was apologising, his room was spotless with no unnecessary mess around. Rummaging your curious eyes through his room, you notice a lot of things; there's a window on the wall opposite to the entrance overlooking the Main Street, a queen size bed was pushed to the side of the room, and right below the window was a small desk with his MacBook on top alongside few other things arranged in a precise order. As said, there was a door to the left, where the bathroom was situated. Overall, the room was elegant with debonair decorations and furniture—nothing about it foretold you it was a man's room.

"To be fair, I'd be put to shame if you saw my dorm room." Muttering under your breath, you slump on the bed and watch Seonghwa's lips twitch into a smile.

"It's okay," he whispers, heading to his closet, which was adjacently placed to the bed. "I understand, you're a full time college student—trust me, my room used to be a mess too. It can't be that bad. Right?"

You grumble and throw yourself back on the mattress, it sinks to your weight and relaxes every muscle of your body. "I think I should call you over sometime. You could see it for yourself. Maybe, help me clean."

"Wouldn't mind that," he chuckles, his footsteps receding to you. "Here, change into something comfortable."

Sitting up straighter, you watch him hand you an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. "There was no need for this."

"And there is no need for your formalities," he offers you a toothy grin. "Sleep wearing something light. I don't think your current outfit is all that comfortable."

"Alright." you mumble, waiting for him to take your leave before you could change.

"Sleep well," he sings, his smile crinkling the corner of his eyes as he does.

Turning on his heel he's almost out through the door when you ask, "where will you be sleeping? The couch? I'm sorry for that..."

"Couch? No. That place is a little ill-at-ease," he laughs, "but, I'll be sleeping with Hongjoong, he's got a bigger bed. And, you don't have to be sorry. What kind of men we'd be if we let you go to your dorms at the dead of night. Right? It's better if you stay and leave in the morning, I'll have Jongho or someone drop you off."

You nod along, butterflies in your stomach coming alive to his words. Chivalry wasn't dead, after all. But the thought of you spending the night here, with Yunho fixated on fucking you, might be the most exhilarating thing ever. Although, you were starting to catch those same fuzzy feelings for Seonghwa—thinking about the kind of man he'd be in bed. The sweet one, showering you with praises, being a soft dom, and all other things which you shouldn't be thinking about him.

"Good night, Angel."

He snaps you out of your dreams, bringing you to the reality.

"Good night, Seonghwa."

A smile fleets behind on your face when he leaves. The door closes with a soft thud, and you sigh, preparing yourself to change into the clothes he gave you. Quickly, you slip out of clothes and into the oversized shirt; for some reason you didn't feel the need to wear the shorts. Actually, the reasons were pretty obvious. Folding your clothes, you keep them on the desk and lay back in the bed. You heave out another breath and decide to surf through the internet, checking your socials, and other things. You're too dazed reading your department's group chat to even hear the sound of a knock on your door for the first time. When the knocks sound for the second time, even louder than before, you flinch and your phone slips off your grip; rolling your eyes as your heart tries to compose itself from the little jumpscare, you hop off the bed and saunter to the door to answer it.

You open the door a slit, only for it to be pushed aside by a burly man to make his way in. It was Yunho, you knew it from the all-too-familiar sounding grunt as you're pushed against the door in a blink of an eye. Trapped, he places one hand on your waist and the other next to your face, pressing his body with yours and forcing you back into the door.

"I told you, didn't I?" he murmurs leaning in, his breath tickles your face as he continues, "I said I'd be true to my words and here I am."

You close your eyes for a hot second, wanting to compose the fire flamed in your heart by his words; most precisely, by his darkened eyes staring right into your soul.

"Never doubted you," you grin, sliding your hands along his back and to his neck. Wrapping them around, you pull yourself close, your lips hovering a few whispers from his. "But the thing is, are you going to do what you intended on doing from the moment we started this, with all your flatmates around? Aren't you worried they might hear us?"

"I couldn't care any less about them," he smirks, brushing his lips against yours, "are you trying to get out of this? You were the one to start it, princess."

His voice is low, as he continues, "the shameless teasing with this raunchy outfit and the stripping, plus the unwanted provocation...do I need to say anything more?"

Shaking your head, you nudge your lips to touch his; he was taken off guard at first, but the moment he realised what you were doing, he grew wild. An untamed kiss broke out between you two, lips lapping and sucking in an unquenched desire. Both of his hands tug at your waist, causing your shirt to lift up slightly.

He mumbles against your lips but doesn't break the kiss. "Only a tee? God, you are such a tease."

And he's diving back into the kiss. It started off so innocent with only a mere touch, delicate yet hungry in way; but you didn't think it'd escalate so quickly into a pining war between your tongues. His warm tongue rubbed with yours, tackling it down to reach down your throat. You moan, not only because of the fact that his tongue was indisputably plunging down your throat, but also because he had traced one of his hands down your waist to the dainty band of your panties. Feeling him smirk against your lips, your stomach ties itself in a knot, realising he was about to something very odious to arouse you. Though, the kiss had already made you wet, your slick soaking into your panties.

One finger slips past the waistband, softly snapping it as he drags to your wet slit; you were melting in the heat his mouth offered, his tongue showing no signs of stopping at what it was doing. You were breathless, you wanted air, you wanted to breathe and peruse his flushed face. Seemingly suffocating, you tilt your head slightly behind to take a deep breath, your lungs filling in with much needed air—while he shows you his conceited smile, his eyes half-lidded from the pleasure he got after abusing your mouth.

"Tired already?" he bites his lower lip, rubbing his long finger along your slit and you moan, not registering what he says next. "This is just the beginning, princess."

He buries his head in your neck, lips scattering kitten like kisses on your skin and trailing further down your collarbones. The yearning was taking you to a different level of desperate, his ravenous touches were working so well to rile you up and you were so sure you could come undone with only his middle finger thrusting into your cunt. In your hazy mind you were lost, closing your eyes, you throw your head back against the door and try to breathe normally—because his sleek finger was stroking your slit vigorously.

This was maddening. And you weren't holding back. "Fuck, Yunho...just fuck me already. Please."

You whimper as the walls of your cunt clench around nothing in utter torment while his middle finger only caressed your slit and nothing else.

"No, princess. Nuh-uh," he hisses, now pressing his thumb on your clit and moving it in a circular motion. "Not so fast. You won't be getting anything more than this—fuck—fuck—" he grunts in his own anguish, "—a dirty slut like you should be punished for wanting everyone's attention on you. Isn't that—fuck, isn't that why you took your top off, hmm? For everyone to fucking take a look, for them to drool on your perky little tits."

You whine, stuttering, "no—no—I only—I only did it because—because those were the rules—fuck, Yunho...just, please—please..."

Mind fogging with unlikely possibilities of him actually giving it to you, made your tongue heavy. You couldn't form sentences in your head, let alone voice them for yourself.

"So, so, so hopeless."

Yunho clicks his tongue, using his other hand to lift the loosely hanging tee up to your chest; his hand quickly cups one of your tits and eventually, he's groping it with his fingers digging in your flesh. His mouth sucks beautiful bruises along your neck, while his finger and thumb keep working on your wet cunt.

"God, I caught Jongho and Mingi staring at these taut little things," he murmurs, licking your skin as he keeps sucking purple bruises, "and I gotta say, I wasn't too fond of it—fond of their eyes lurking anywhere near you. Just thinking about it—ugh—can't even get myself to think about it."

"I didn't—" you groan, "—I didn't think you'd be the jealous type—fuck!"

All air is knocked out of your lungs as soon as he lets his middle finger slip into your cunt; your walls squelch, causing more of your juices to drip down your thighs.

"Oh, you really don't know me yet," he slyly whispers, keeping the pace of his finger teasingly slow inside you.

Detaching his lips from your neck, he stares down at you with a lilting smirk, one ever so gravely etched in a nettlesome curve. His hazel eyes show a spark of ardour, seemingly growing into a soft murmur of feral desires. You crack your eyes open, fluttering your lids heavily as the pleasure of his finger drives you to your edge; you were getting weak in your knees—your body could go limp any moment if he continues to tease your cunt this slow. Sliding your hands down his neck, you hold onto his shoulders and heave out a breath, chaotic and painful.

"Would you like to know me better, princess?" he breathes his words out, sneering as he glances down at his finger thrusting in and out of you. "...I'm sure we'd get along just fine."

"I don't doubt that either," you smirk at him, impatiently waiting for him to add another finger in you.

When you knew, he wasn't going to do anything more than finger your cunt teasingly, you start bucking your hips into his hands, hoping it'd make his finger plunge deep into you. The squelch of your walls is loud this time, resonating in the empty room as it soon merges with his chuckle. Yunho draws in an amusing breath, tittering at your messed up persona, and desperation.

He clicks his tongue, bringing his finger out of you altogether; the emptiness was lot worse than having only one of his sleek finger in. Maybe, you shouldn't have been so desperate for him. You couldn't blame yourself; it was evident from that night itself that you yearned for him, all of him. Keeping his stare on you, he brings his finger, the one which was plunging deep into your cunt, close to his mouth and darts his tongue out. His middle finger glistens with your juices around it, so unbelievably fucking attractive but nothing prepared you for what he did next; he licked and lapped his tongue all over his finger, humming in satisfaction as he tastes you.

"Sweet and salty, just like my little slut," he smirks, teeth trapping his bottom lip in, "can't wait to fuck that cunt with my tongue—it'd be fucking perfect."

You don't make a sound, simply because his words were giving you a sensory whiplash and depriving you from any fraction of sanity at all. He lets his other hand slip from your chest, tracing it to your neck to grab your throat. His fingers dug in the sides, leaving faint bruises as he brought you close to him; in a blink of an eye, his lips were back on yours, tasting your desperation and teasing your lower lip with a sharp tug of his teeth.

"Yun..." you murmur against his lips, absorbing the vibrations of his chuckle as he pulls back to address, "princess, you are not getting me so easily. I can play hard to get, and I always have."

You are a little annoyed by his attitude, his conceited slapdash personality was an antithetical factor to his charisma and chivalry. He shakes his head, in disbelief, as if he had read your mind when you were thinking about his pomposity.

Clicking his tongue, he pecks your lips, "no, princess, I'm not conceited. I'm just...returning the favour."

You're muddled, not comprehending what he was hinting at. And considering that, he slightly rolls his eyes, while his other hand ghosts over your lower abdomen and grabs the waistband of your panties. Not giving you any sign of his intentions, he uses his mere strength to pull the panties up your waist. The material of your lacy panty chafes with your wet folds as he pulls and continues to do so until you're writhing with tickles on your spine.

"Fuck—that feels good, but—I want you." you mewl in such ache, craving everything of him, "I need you."

"Like, I said, I'm returning the favour, princess," he softly lets out a laugh, stroking his thumb along your windpipe, "consider this a bestowal of all the pleasure you can get from me. Because..."

His teasing tone is back, infuriating you—tears well in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as you whimper, "because...?"

"Because I can't let a slut like you get what she wants by deftly ribbing me in front of my flatmates," he states, his hold on your throat tightening, while he pulls your panties further up.

The overbearing sensation of your panties rolling up and slotting into your wet slit makes your skin crawl in pleasure. It was unbearable at this point, the rigorous friction of the material and your soaked cunt.

"I need to teach my whore a lesson, don't I? And that's what she's going to get tonight. A punishment for provoking me in front of my flatmates and being an attention whore," he smiles haughtily, pulling himself back completely before stepping away from you.

His warmth was gone, so was his touch which drove you away into your insanity, and all you were left with was an abysmal hollowness full of chagrin and hankering. Taking another step back, he shrugs while you lean back against the door to recollect your shattered pieces—you were trying to relax yourself after all that he had done to make your pussy drip uncontrollably.

"My precious little princess should try to get some sleep for the night," he smiles, coming close to you again but only to caress your cheek with his thumb. "Trust me, princess, my package will be worth the wait."

"Good night, Angel."

He presses his lips lightly to your cheek and pushes you carefully to the side to leave the room. The moment he dashes out the room, you wait for his footsteps to quiet down the hallway before you're sliding down against the door and groaning out in frustration as you lay on the floor like a crumpled paper. This was too much! Too much! You do remember him mentioning he was a tease from your night of sexting, but you didn't believe him—not until he was teasing you to hell and back. You could consider this as borderline torture which in turn was making you wonder if his dick was really worth all this torment.

Although, as he left the room, you caught a glimpse of his cock straining against his jogger shorts—the outline was clear, and that clarity was enough to push you back in your delusions and fantasises. Regardless, it also meant how badly you had him riled too, you got him hard, got him to masturbate before he goes to bed—it was obvious he would jerk off to your thoughts, and that passing notion was undoubtedly making you even wetter. You heave out a sigh as you pick yourself up and carry your trembling body to the edge of the bed. Settling down comfortably with your legs open wide, you pull the hem of your shirt and trap it between your teeth. Exposed, and free from the shirt, you drag one of your hands down your chest, purposely pushing the cups of your bra aside to let your tits hang outside. Your mind rutted with lascivious thoughts of Yunho playing with your tits, cupping them, groping them, kneading them, all the things you wanted him to do, maybe a little more which would cause your dignity to falter in front of him.

You moan out loud, but it's muffled by the shirt in your mouth; you were senselessly pinching your nipple, all while tracing your other hand to your cunt. Pushing the panties (now ruined by your arousal) to a side, you ghost your fingers over your clit, gradually touching your swollen bud to feel the ecstasy take over you. Throwing your head back to the sensation, you let out a whimper; soon, the image of Yunho licking his middle finger flashes in your mind, making you moan again. You do what he was doing a minute prior, stroke the length of your own middle finger along your slit. Your mouth stays open this time instead, but your shirt doesn't roll all the way down because your hand, playing with your tits, obstructed it from doing so.

Somehow, in the darker light of your mind, you're fixated on that burning scenario of Yunho rubbing his tongue along his finger to rid it of your juices. At first, you wonder, and then glimmer in joy, nevertheless that fleeting moment is cut short when you realise an odd detail about him. If his middle finger was that long, then how huge would his cock be? That cascading thought itself makes you shiver, and you start rubbing yourself faster; not caring if the sounds you made were discernible and audible to the others in the apartment. Seemingly, your noises were growing louder, and you were getting closer to your edge. Dropping your hand from your chest to your side, you fist your hand into the sheets, and ease your finger into your cunt. Again, the wetness makes your walls squelch and your action makes a popping sound.

Keeping a steady pace at first, you thrust the upper part of your middle finger in, then gradually moving the entire finger inside. Once you were comfortable, you increase the pace of your thrusts and mutter out a sweet string of moans, incoherent and dumb. You close your eyes, screw them tight for tears to stream down the side of your face; you're driven to a point of lunacy where all you could think about was Yunho fucking you with his finger. However, one finger wasn't enough for that, so you add in another, your ring finger this time. Both of your fingers rhythmically slide in and out of your cunt, letting your flesh slop and your juices make a mess of them.

Your grip on the sheets tightens, enough for your knuckles to turn white. Your eyes are shut, reveling the pleasure your fingers gave you, while your chest heaved up and down uncomfortably, trying to fathom the suffocation brought by your eerily palpitating heart. Lost in your jolly world of fantasies, where all you could think of was Yunho, you don't hear a soft knock sounding on the door of your room. Although, the person standing on the other side of the door had heard your moans and groans clearly. Yep, this man had heard you, and knows you're masturbating, yet he gulps to himself and scours a little bit of courage to enter the room.

He twists the doorknob and pushes the door inside; second after second, the door cracks open and reveals bits of you, the bed, your legs wide open and your hand between them, to him. Drooling at the sight for what his momentary mind could capture, he clears his throat to snap you out of your daze. Your heart beats slow, adrenaline rushing through and through when you open your eyes to meet with the familiar man standing a step closer to the door.

"Seonghwa..." you gasp, quickly pulling your shirt down to cover to exposed legs, and everything in between them—you hold your hand out to a side, wet and glistening with your juices all over them.

He clears his throat yet again, "Angel, what—well, don't stop."

You're taken off guard by his silly eyes lurking on yours, his lips curling deliriously into a smirk; leaving you to fend for his words, he trudges to his desk and carries the chair to set it in front of you. In utter disbelief, you watch him sit on the chair, spreading his legs wider in front of you, giving you the glimpse of the gradually forming tent in his pants. He unbuttons a few buttons on the top of his shirt, pulling the collars apart to expose a little of his tanned and toned chest.

"Don't stop?" you gawk, slightly breathless.

"I'm sorry if my sudden intrusion made you halt your..." he pauses, eyes trailing down your face to your chest, and legs. "...I wouldn't mind if you were to put on a show for me. Maybe, we could help each other out later on."

You were stumbling in your own mind to regard his words, even if you were past the point of acting on your rationality, this proposition of his was beyond tempting. Unlikely, you'd then have to be embarrassed to have masturbated in front of him too—especially since you and Yunho had shared that sensual call the other night. Everything is a standpoint of your dilemma, whether you should give in to your impulses, and act on your desires or not. After all, contemplating and accepting the reality of your sybaritic situation would precisely put you in a rough place with Yunho if he were to ever find out about your and Seonghwa's deal.

"But..."

"But?" Seonghwa repeats, "there are no buts, sweetheart. Though, to sate my curiosity, I'd like to ask you something."

You nod your head, your cheeks warm and red, hazy from all that's happened in the span of mere minutes.

"What got you all worked up, or rather, who?" you purse your lips together, unable to answer him. And he continues taking your silence as the testimony. "Was it anyone amongst us, or all of us? I saw Yunho leave this room a while before I made my way here. Was it him?"

You nod again, and he chuckles, "guess, Hongjoong owes me fifty bucks now."

Taking offence, you narrow your eyes at him; he shakes his head and enunciates more clearly, "no one's betting on you, sweetheart. It's just...during the game, I saw a few sparks fly between you two. As it made Jongho a little envious, it gave me an insight to your dynamic with Yunho. Surprisingly, he was as cheerful as he was that night—I suppose it was the night he was talking to you, wasn't it? Anyway, me and Hongjoong, a few minutes prior now when Yunho disappeared from the living room, construed a harmless wager."

"Are you all alike?"

"Alike as in, similar to Yunho?" he shakes his head in amusement, "oh, darling. We're anything but alike to that brat."

You don't know what it was about him, maybe that simple of nudge of his head as he satirically insulted Yunho, or the lax foreboding smile which offered you a sight of his sharp canines. There was something about Seonghwa which was making you want him more now—more than Yunho, to be precise. Although, when the remnant of your rationality sticks to your mind, you knew the attraction was simply because you had been played with and left high and dry by Yunho. You were too desperate to feel something in between your legs, literally anything at all—and as demeaning and belittling that is, even to yourself, you couldn't help but weigh your judgment down to Seonghwa's side.

You put on a show for him, he enjoys it while jerking himself off, and later on you get what you wanted all along. Sounds simple. Right? Maybe.

As you're lost in your thoughts, the never-ending brooding of the current situation, Seonghwa turns weary and tilts his head to a side. He licks his lips and asks, presumably snapping you out of your reverie. "Angel, I don't want you doing anything that you're uncomfortable with."

At the shift of his personality, you pout, shaking your head to convey your words. "I'm not uncomfortable with...this. Only, I wonder what it would be like with us if we were to, you know."

Your shoulders flinch, and he sighs, crossing his legs and leaning back into the chair. He smiles softly, "the solution is as straightforward as it can be, Angel."

"I'm not looking for a relationship, however," you whisper, undermining your own words as you come to that conclusion. "If that is what you were about to suggest."

"Relationships aren't really my thing either," he replies, a sly smile on his face, "we keep this exclusive to sex. I'm assuming Yunho put forth a much similar bargain."

You nod, "he did. And I was anticipating he'd..." Seonghwa's brow cocks up in astonishment, "...I anticipated he'd let things get steamy between us tonight. It's the reason why he had been texting me, convincing me to come."

"So, you came here for his dick?" Seonghwa laughs, not in a debasing manner, it was more of an amused laugh. "I understand, but I've been thinking you only decided to come because you didn't want to hurt Jongho's feelings."

"You're not in the wrong," you sigh, "I wanted to be a better friend to him too, but all the while Yunho had been pestering me, teasing me with his semi-nudes...okay, why are we talking about this? Shouldn't we just get done with it as quickly as possible?" you realise you had spoken too much.

Seonghwa shrugs it off, "Angel, I said I wouldn't want you doing anything which would cause you discomfort."

"And I said I'm okay with it."

Smirking, you lift your shirt back up, showing off your completely drenched panties and your sheeny cunt. Tired of pushing your panties to the side, you decide to take them off and once you've rid yourself of them, you spread your legs for his perusal before dipping your hand in between them. You resume your actions, plunging your middle and ring finger into your cunt—to your unbridled desire, your fingers slip in too easily because of the number of times of you were aroused.

"Oh dear, Angel," Seonghwa grunts, palming his crotch through his pants.

You smirk at his utterance and glance up, glazing your eyes over him as his legs are back to being spread wide in front of you, while his hand is busy stroking his cock through his pants. He bites his lower lip, giving you an encouraging nod to increase your pace; throwing your head back, your jaw slacks open when you start thrusting your fingers deep in you. The walls of your cunt quell around your fingers—the feeling reels you back to your sense of salaciousness, forcing you to increase your pace. Seonghwa's groans soon fill in the room, blending in too perfectly with your moans as you continue to finger yourself.

Seonghwa, seemingly too tired of rubbing himself through his pants, unbuttons, unzips, and tugs them down to pull his fully hard cock out. You watch him wrap his hand along the tip at first, stroking it softly with his fingers as he gradually drags his hand down along the shaft. Precum glisters on the tip of his cock, and along the length of it; and the more he pumps his cock, the more of his arousal leaks from his tip. Trapping his bottom lip in the grasp of his teeth, he prevents any vile sounds to slip from his mouth. And wanting to do the same, you clasp your free hand over your mouth but fail to do so when your mind loses every inch of control. It doesn't work as it should, because your hand is sliding down to your chest, to play around with your taut nipples.

"You're so pretty, Hwa," the comment slides out of your mouth with such ease that you don't even realise you had said it. "You look so pretty like this, stroking your cock to me fingering myself."

Again, you didn't know where you got the confidence to speak.

He chuckles softly, which mixes with his grunt as he increases the pace of his hand around his cock. "My Angel dearest, I think the sight—the—the sight of my cock—my cock thrusting into that tight little cunt of your—yours, might be the prettiest—prettiest sight of all."

His stutter was absolutely driving you insane; not just the way he stumbled his with his words, but also the way he was pumping his cock vigorously to the thought of that. Holding his shirt up by his other hand, preventing it from getting ruined, he tightens his hand around his cock, keeping a steady pace.

"Then why don't we see it—"

Thud!

The door closes shut, startling both of you as you freeze in your places. You focus your attention to the door, but Seonghwa doesn't really bother to look behind; and from the way he smirked, it was evident to you that he knew who had just arrived. It wasn't a surprise to you either, because somewhere in your heart, you were waiting for him to come.

"Tch, what an alluring sight my eyes behold," Yunho clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest and steps ahead to stand behind Seonghwa. "Let's say, I'm not all too confounded with your behaviour, 'Hwa. But I certainly did not expect my princess to acquit herself from her punishment."

His condescending tone was back, and very much alluring; his way of degrading you never gets boring, it's always tipping you off to your extremity. Yunho steps past Seonghwa and stands right in front of you. His gaze penetrates through your ruse, causing you to shiver as you sit straighter and composed, a little stoic to his advances maybe. You're not so much tolerant when you drag your eyes down to his body, his buff chest at first, then his bulging arms folded on his chest, and lastly, you're spanning your eyes across his abdomen and crotch. His shorts are confining his boner, sadly so, the outline of his cock makes you drool and imagine of the sensation you'd get from him filling you up.

"Eyes up here, princess."

You whimper, "Yunho, I can explain."

"Shush," he presses his index finger on your lips and glances back at Seonghwa over his shoulder, "it turns out my precious princess can't control herself. Why don't we teach her a little discipline?"

Seonghwa smirks, as if he had caught up on Yunho's intentions already. "Only if she's okay with us ruining her."

"Oh, a whore like her would certainly enjoy herself being fucked by both of us, would she not?" he brings his hand down to your throat and squeezes it, grunting as he brings you close to his face, "right, princess? Want to be filled with both of our cocks, right? Be nothing but a cum-slut for both of us...hmm?"

You nod your head, murmuring, "yes, yes...I want to be filled—be filled with both of you...use me as your..."

"So, so, so hopeless," Yunho tuts in pity. "I think you should take the fron—"

"—I'm in no mood today, Yun," Seonghwa interrupts him, getting up from the chair with his pants pulled over, as he strides across to stand next to Yunho. His eyes darken, a wretched curl taking its shape on his lips. "But, I would like to see what this pretty mouth can do."

You groan in such desperation, feeling his thumb caress your lower lip till he's tugging it down for you to open your mouth a little wider.

"Don't expect much, Hwa," Yunho grumbles, pulling his red hoodie over his head and discarding it down on the floor. He wears nothing under it, though, and you start checking out his toned upper body with your blurry eyes. "This mouth knows nothing but to complain and whine. Maybe yap around a bit and haul foul words at others."

Seonghwa chuckles and holds your jaw instead, thumb pressing down on your chin to do what he had been trying to do; getting your mouth to open wide. And maybe he was trying to get your attention off of Yunho.

"I better not believe him, Angel. Show me what you can do."

"Hmm," your eyes are back on Seonghwa, "I can—"

He doesn't let you finish your words leans down to kiss you. A mere contact of your lips inflames your heart into a fiery pit of despair, and you're kissing him back with much intensity. Your lips lap, collide, and suck, while he's too busy trying to drag his tongue into your mouth. He does it soon, however. His tongue caresses your lips at first, then as your widely opened mouth lets him in, he's scraping his tongue across your teeth and tackling yours into a soft brawl. Your eyes flutter close to the sensation of his warm and rough tongue rubbing with yours, delving down deep in your throat as his hands are now cupping your face.

Meanwhile, Yunho is certainly bewildered to watch his friend suck your mouth off, at the same time, an uncurbed tremor of jealousy aches his heart. Yet, he watches the two of you, observes how Seonghwa's hands were caressing your cheeks, how his tongue was shoving itself down your throat. To a certain degree of envy, he gives in and clears his throat, eventually pulling at Seonghwa's collar to break you apart.

"Jealous much?" Seonghwa comments, which goes unacknowledged by Yunho who grunts at you, "I want you on all your fours. Now."

You gulp, struck with intimidation by his voice, and the ambiguous shade of grey in his eyes. Obliging to him, you slide back on the bed and get on your fours, facing the edge of the bed as you anticipated their next move. Yunho doesn't say anything and moves on about to situate himself behind you, meanwhile Seonghwa settles himself in front of you. You're in eye level with Seonghwa's cock, hard and leaking precum, it's tip laying flat against his stomach as he takes a minute to shrug his shirt off. His pants were already off when you were trying to get comfortable on your knees and hands on the bed.

The mattress dips to Yunho's weight behind you, giving you the obvious sign that he was upto something. To your apparent satisfaction, he pushed the hem of your shirt along your back to give him better access to your rear. The warmth of his hands caresses your buttcheeks, eventually dwindling down to your inner thighs as he pushes your legs further apart. He's mentally slobbering at the sight of your folds, all wet and glistening in their glory; his cock twitches at the thought of rubbing himself all over you before sliding into your warmth.

"So fucking wet already," Yunho grumbles, "probably doesn't even need me to prep this cunt before fucking it with my cock."

"Yun—fuck..."

You clench around nothing as you listen to him growl all those words under his breath. Seonghwa chortles, grabbing your jaw and guiding the tip of his cock to your mouth; he rubs it along your lips before he eases himself inside. Engulfed by your warmth, he groans softly and closes his eyes to relish the atypical sensation for first few seconds. He knows he'll get used to you in a little bit and so will you. You wrap your lips around him, as he continues to slide his cock in your mouth. Once he grows aware of how much him you can take in, he stops and entangles both of his hands in your hair instead, helping him to hold your head down.

"Hmmm," you moan around his cock, feeling the tip brush past your tongue and the walls of your throat. The saltiness from his precum is too evident on your tongue, but you swallow it down and focus on him.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good around me," Seonghwa's chest sounds a low gruff, glancing down at you through his half-lidded eyes. "You're doing so well, sweetheart. Hmm, I'll try to be gentle, okay?"

You nod, trying to pacify the sting at the corner of your lips from the way they were stretched around his cock. He doesn't push himself further than he already is and starts thrusting his cock into your throat. You merely gagged around the tip but held your breath. Seonghwa's lips remain parted, and his eyes remain shut, he was a moaning mess, subsiding to the warmth of your mouth rocking him in and out.

Yunho's jealousy knows no bounds, he's fuming inside as he watches Seonghwa fuck your mouth. Swiping the tip of his tongue over his upper lip, he smirks smugly and traces his fingers from your inner thighs to your folds, eventually to your slit. His fingers collect bits of your wetness before tucking them in your cunt; first it's the fingertips, gradually the entire length of his fingers are thrusting in and out of your cunt.

You're so out of it, buzzing with pleasure received on both sides. One, you weren't able to moan because of how deep Seonghwa was plunging his cock into your throat. Two, Yunho's fingers were curling in the deepest parts of your cunt, squelching around the flesh and making you squirm from time to time. Three, you knew Seonghwa's pace was picking itself up, but however you weren't sure if you'd be able to keep up with him.

Relentlessly, you fist your hands in the sheets underneath, holding onto them for your dear life because Seonghwa's hips were rutting into your face. Your mind was fogged by the way he rammed his cock in your throat, making you gag and choke while he guided you down by holding your head. His fingers were tangled in your hair, which eventually turns into a makeshift ponytail. You flatten your tongue toward the roof of your mouth, licking the underside of his shaft as he rapidly thrusted in and out.

"Dear sweet lord—fuck, Angel, don't stop—don't—don't stop doing that." He grumbles out, voiceless as he tries to catch a breath.

Tears are streaming down your face, as your nose scrunches up against his pubic bone and littlest of pubic hair, you're suffocating too, having lost the ability to breathe through your nose. Seonghwa's hips come to a halt, but doesn't really let you go—he likes the way your mouth is wrapped around him, likes the way your cheeks are hollowed and confined to his cock.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, Hwa." Yunho pouts, "makes me regret to not have used her mouth before you..." his fingers are spreading you apart, stretching your walls to their limits. "Hmm, but doesn't matter anymore, I'll be the first to ruin this tight little thing."

With that being said, he flicks the direction of his wrist, bringing his fingers out only for a meagre second before he's thrusting them back in. He only did that to get his thumb in front, to toy with your clit as he presses down on it, eliciting a whine from you. Though, the vibrations of your whine are absorbed by Seonghwa's cock stuffed in your mouth, driving him wild. His thrusts resume, however, his pace picks up slowly but doesn't show any signs of faltering. Your jaw is slack and limp, already lethargic from taking him in.

"You're missing—you're missing out, Yun," Seonghwa's mumbles before bestowing his praises upon you, "you're doing so—doing so well, my dear. Such a good girl—good girl to take my cock—cock in without complaining. A little bit—little bit more..."

You have your eyes closed and mind shut down, the pleasure was unbearably long and everlasting till your body gave you enough strength to withstand their ministrations. At the way Yunho's fingers were moving in you, and brushing your sweet spot, you knew you wouldn't last long. The hot and vehement knot tightens itself in your stomach and wrenches your gut, preparing you for your climax. Your walls clench around Yunho's fingers, making him click his tongue as he pulls them out.

"Not so soon, princess." he sighs, quickly ridding himself of his shorts and briefs. "Not till you make a mess on my cock—fuck, this might—this might sting a bit."

He aligns the tip of his cock with you and rubs it along your slit before easing himself into your cunt bit by bit; your walls stretch to his girth, a tiny fire burning your skin as you whimper and wince. Although, Seonghwa's faltering thrusts try to distract you from the initial pain of Yunho's cock submerging into you—he is twitching in your mouth like crazy, knowing well he was close to his edge. You weren't so sure about your own orgasm, since you were already senseless to Yunho's cock plunging into you; and to your greater surprise, it was only the tip of his cock pounding into you. Yet he was driving you wild, his cock screwing itself so deep into you, and stretching you raw. Every time Yunho bucked his hips into yours, your body rolled into Seonghwa's, making your mouth slip further down on his cock and gag around your throat.

"Fuck, baby, gimme a min," Seonghwa mumbles and you nod slightly, causing him to pull out before you passed out of suffocation.

Taking a deep breath in through your mouth, you glance up at Seonghwa with teary eyes, finding sweat make his hair stick to his forehead and a few drops dribble down the sides of his head. You couldn't be too mesmerised by his beauty, because Yunho takes that time to ease himself fully into your cunt; his cock throbbing inside you, as his thrusts are fast paced and concise.

Seonghwa shares a look with Yunho before turning down to you, "take a deep breath, sweetheart..." he was breathless, yet he was able to pronounce each word with care and concern.

"Fuck, Yunho..." you mumbled under your breath, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Yunho's hips ram into yours. "You're—you're too fast—fuck—feels good, feels really—really good."

"Such a good slut, taking me in raw and making herself feel good with my cock," Yunho grunts.

"Yun—"

You couldn't thread your words together let alone voice them, and even if you could, Seonghwa wouldn't let you because he's already nudging the tip of his cock against your lips. Opening your mouth, as you're now used to his size, you wrap your lips around him; he keeps his pace slow this time, letting the tip of his cock poke your cheek as his thrust aren't well timed or rhythmical. Although, he's close, so close. He tightens his fingers in your hair, tugging at your strands as he pushes your head down on his cock—the warmth of your throat tips him off, and he twitches insanely before coming undone in your throat. His load trickles down, making you forcefully swallow it, tasting mild undertones of sweetness followed by the saltiness of his cum; he rides his high out with a few placid thrusts, filling your mouth with his cum. He only pulls out when he's sure he's emptied himself entirely into your mouth and when he does, he sighs and smiles down at you with a dazed look in his eyes.

"You did a great job, sweetheart. Made me cum with only your mouth, such a good and obedient slut," he pats your head, stroking your hair with his one hand as other one wipes the trickling drops of his cum from your lips. "Hmm, good girl."

He leans in to kiss you, humming in satisfaction as he tastes himself on your lips—though, out of nowhere he darts his tongue inside your mouth swallows a bit of his own cum, alleviating your struggle to swallow it whole. Pulling back, he groans softly and pushes himself off the bed completely. He gets dressed in no time, sparing no particular attention to you or Yunho, who's too busy hurling his cock into you.

"Clean up after you're done, Yun." He says one last time before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft thud.

You're brought to your senses then; the tight grip of Yunho's hands on your thighs which certainly has left dark bruises on your skin, the way his thrusts were proper yet short to prolong your orgasm, and the way weakness had taken over your body. Without warning, your hands give in, and you land face first into the mattress; however, Yunho clicks his tongue and groans softly before establishing a good grip on the back of your neck, pressing a little harder he lets his hand trace to the back of your head instead and his fingers entwine with your hair. He pulls your body up by tugging harshly on your hair, making you yelp and let out a small whine in protest. Your back is flushed against his chest, his thighs are hitching into yours, and his hands are all over you. One of his hands grabs your throat, choking you, while the other slithers under your shirt to grope your tits. Cupping them under your shirt, as they're already hanging out from your bra, he pulls on the tauten nipples, pinches them and rolls them between his forefinger and thumb; you moan, your mouth agape at the wild sensation It brought to you.

"How does it feel now, princess?" he grumbles, and you throw your head back resting it on his shoulder, "too much—too much—wanna cum."

Yunho hums, "as expected from my slut."

You nod to him, unable to force out words from your mouth, or even form them in your head. His thrusts pick up again, his hand drops from your chest and traces down to your clit; fingers rub down motions on your swollen bud, and you realise how sensitive you had gotten. Needless to say, every time he rolls his hips into yours, his cock plunges deep, so deep it tickles your gut—the tip of his cock was simultaneously abusing your sweet spot, nudging hard against the pit of your stomach. Bringing his hand to your lower stomach, he presses down, and your walls convulse immensely around his cock; you could really feel him in abdomen, sending all sorts of shivers down your spine.

"Fuck, being so deep in you, it's driving me crazy," he grumbles, "you feel me, princess? Feel my cock pound you good, huh?"

Again, you nod, profusely melting under the heat and sweat of your bodies—you were long gone to comprehend sanity at this point. He buries his head in your neck and sucks purple bruises all over your skin; they're going to be super evident in the morning, and you're going to get questionable looks from the others in the loft. Not that you thought you could get away with this, you were so sure the others were able to hear you, and that thought itself drove you into your diverting state of mind. It made you even wetter to know that others could hear you get fucked by Seonghwa and Yunho.

"Fuck—princess, use your words." Yunho flattens his palm on your pussy and gives it a slap, jerking you out of your daze and making you mumble, dumbfounded. The crass impact of his hand makes you cry and put your mind on ease knowing how full you were from his cock. You sob softly, feeling the pleasure take over you, "yes—yes, please, wanna cum so badly—wanna make a mess on—mess on your cock."

Yunho, satisfied with your response, supports your body against his with his hands on either side of your waist now; he pulls out and rams his cock back into you, keeping a steady pace before picking it up. You're definitely going to be left sore tomorrow, maybe deprived of your ability to walk even. His cock was reaching deep into you, knowing this angle was better to fuck and abuse your sweet spot. It doesn't take him long to bring that familiar tightness back in the pit your stomach—it twists your guts thinking how close you really were to your climax. In the room, along with your moans, and his grunts, the sound of your skin slapping against his also reverberated; every time he thrusted in, his hips would be in touch with yours for a mere second before he'd go back to dive deeper into you.

"Right, this tight—tight cunt only needs my cock to make a mess, doesn't it?" Yunho grunts close to your ear, steadying himself with his thrusts.

His words tip you off and you squeal, "yes, fuck—Yunho—Yunho—I'm going to..."

"Go on, princess."

Offering you few more long and sharp thrusts, which causes your wall to squelch and clench; without your notice, that tightness is coming undone. You let go of all the confines and your orgasm washes over you. Ironically, you really do make a mess on his cock, as it still keeps plunging into you. The warmth of your cum drips down your inner thighs, coating Yunho's thighs as well when he bucks his hips into yours. A sly smirk curves on his face, as he smacks his lips to the warmth of your juices dripping over his cock, squirting a bit around because of his thrusts.

"Oh, my princess, such a good slut. A bit more...a bit more, I'm close too," Yunho grunts close to your war, sloppily sliding in and out of you.

He was close, remotely, he usually lasts longer than this, but considering how tight your walls were around him, he had no choice but to push himself to his edge. You feel him twitch inside you, and your walls clench tightly around him; his hold on your waist goes tight as he pushes you down on the mattress—the lowered angle gave him a leverage and he continued slamming his cock into you at an animalistic pace for as long as he could. It takes him a while to get to his point, and before you know, the warmth of his cum is filling you up to your brim and dribbling past your hole. He rides out his high with a few more short and brief thrusts, digging his nails into your flesh to leave back minuscule crescents and breathes heavily, before sliding out and falling limp against your body.

You heave out a sigh, relaxing your body back into his, as your chest rises and falls; it takes the two of you a moment before Yunho lays you down on the bed and then rests himself next to you. Tiredness evident in the ragged breathing of his, he doesn't try to speak anything unless he's composed himself, and so do you—you press your lips together and lay in silence till your mind clears out and the post-orgasm clarity sinks in. You stare at the spotless ceiling above, listening to Yunho's hushed attempts at abating his breathing.

After a few minutes of silence, Yunho is the first to disrupt the tranquility between you two. "That was intense, quite something I did not anticipate."

"As much as I hate to agree, but I hadn't sucked a cock in a while. I feel my jaw slack and loose." you murmur, reminiscing your past sexual encounters with others; knowing no blowjobs had ever been so hard as this one. "Feels like I've lost the capability to talk, my throat feels sore too."

Yunho chuckles, turning to his side and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling himself close to your body, "Seonghwa usually prefers throat-fucking more to penetrating. You should be glad he wasn't as rough as he used to be with his past lovers." he shrugs, resting his head on your shoulder and inhales your scent, which apparently was a concoction of sex, sweat, a bit of Seonghwa's scent on you, and his too. "Don't worry, I'll make you a cup of hot tea, you'll feel better."

"Well, I'm taking you up on that, mister," you titter, leaning to the side to put your head on his. Seemingly pondering, you wrung your thoughts and initiate, "hey, umm, do you think—I'm not sure, but would you be comfortable if I..."

Your words dither to a whisper and Yunho's sighs, second guessing your notions and interrupting you, "you want to be with both of us, right?"

"After this, I don't think I can regard him as a friend," you grumble, whining softly, "I mean, I sucked his dick. That's something friends don't do."

Yunho heaves out a small breath, peeking up at you through his lashes as his hair sticks to his forehead from all the sweat. "Angel, I think we should discuss this tomorrow. With a fresh mind and refueled bodies. My thinking adeptness has left my mind. To be fair, all I can think about is actually pretty pathetic and many more sordid things which include you. So, it's better if we call it a night and talk it out tomorrow, hmm?"

Sighing, you nod to his suggestion and reassure him with a blink of your eyes. "Fine, I'll leave it for tomorrow."

"Good girl," Yunho chirps, "now, let's get you cleaned. Inside out. I don't want you knocking at my door after nine months showing up with a cute little spawn of my devilry."

"Shut up, you."

The rest of the night was pretty tame; Yunho helped you clean, inside out as he promised. Seonghwa's bathroom was far too spacious than he had sold to you, there was a bathtub, a shower and a completely secluded section where the toilet was. While you were relaxing in the hot bath in the tub, prepared for you by Yunho, he took a quick shower and proceeded to change the sheets of the bed. Once you were well scrubbed and washed, he wiped you dry and slipped his hoodie over your body. He got dressed only in his shorts and the two of you then cuddled each other to sleep.

As the night dawned to a new morning, you kept thinking about the events of the night—the sinister impulses you had given into and the reverting cataclysmic effects to your dynamic with Yunho and Seonghwa. Though, Yunho did say they'd talk it out in the morning, but maybe you were worried for that morning to come. Regardless of your overthinking, the night passes you quick, your mind waking up from its slumber at the exact moment when the bright rays of sun cascaded in the room.

You open your eyes to a bright white light, squinting them to the golden glow of the sunshine; you murmur in a daze, a sleepy daze of yours as you urged yourself to go back to sleep. Groaning softly, you stretch your arms out and feel an empty void next to you. Yunho was no longer sleeping by your side. You pout and try to disregard the bitter feeling in your mouth. Gently and eagerly biting back sobs whenever your sore hips, thighs and back, inflicted pain upon your body, you get yourself off the bed and slip into the shorts which Seonghwa had offered you last night. The same ones you refused to wear since you were on tenterhooks for Yunho's cock. Stifling a yawn, you wash your face in the bathroom, pat it dry and make sure all your sleep is gone before heading out to the kitchen.

"There she is," you hear a muffled chirping from a familiar voice, "good morning, Angel."

"G'morning."

You rub the remaining sleep from your eyes and focus your blurry gaze onto the said man; you find Yunho sitting on the chair of the dining table, alongside Hongjoong, with Yeosang and Jongho sitting opposite to them, their back facing you. Meanwhile, you also heard faint sizzling of pan coming from the kitchen and only assumed someone was cooking breakfast for the others. Not having a clue about the time, you murmur incoherently under your breath and paddle your way across to the table.

Hongjoong offers you a small smile, as you settle down next to Jongho, "good morning, Angel. I hope you slept well, more than well perhaps."

You choke on your saliva, gazing up at him and then at Yunho. "Uh, yeah. I slept good."

"Only good?" Yunho pouts.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him; and look around instead, noticing Seonghwa was in the kitchen, flipping pancakes. The others were freshly showered, neatly dressed and sitting around the table with a plateful of breakfast in front of them. Jongho had a frown on his face every time he glanced at you, Hongjoong's eyes were rather beguiling and beaming at you with a few ulterior motives hidden in clear sight, and Yeosang barely acknowledged your presence as he was busy working on his laptop which he had propped in front of him instead of a plate.

Jongho, who's fidgeting with the sleeves of his university sweatshirt, flashes you a disdainful glance and looks back down at his plate of half-eaten pancakes. "Are you going to make it to any of your classes today?"

Ouch.

"What do you mean?" you act coy, squeezing your thighs together as you reel off into the memories of last night.

"Don't pretend to be a doll, Ange." he groans softly, training his eyes on you, "I know what happened last night, well everyone does."

Yunho adds, "she was loud enough for our neighbours to hear, I wouldn't be surprised if y'all heard her too."

"Not the time to boast, Yun," Hongjoong warns, shaking his head; you watch him smiling at you, smugly, sitting poised dressed in a grunge green suit and a black shirt under it. He fiddles with an emerald ring sitting on his thumb, raising his brow at you in sheer wonder. "It's better if we address this situation first, and later on, you can go back to your teasings and haughty nothings."

"What is there to address?" you gawk, blinking twice as your eyes remain wide and fixated on Hongjoong.

Seonghwa walks in with a plate of hot pancakes and places it in front of you before sitting next to Hongjoong. "Us." he mutters, motioning his index finger between you, him, and Yunho. "We need to confront what we feel and superimpose our feelings onto what we did last night."

"I mean..." you trail off, glancing at Yunho, "I was already considering Yunho's proposition to be exclusively friends with benefits. I'm not sure about..." you peek at Seonghwa.

"It's not just about them, for now," Jongho mutters, his cheeks turning a flimsy shade of red as he continues, "I like you, I've always had. Though, it's not a reason enough for me to be with you. I enjoy your company too and I wouldn't mind being a part of your..."

"Where are you going with this?" you mumble, bemused and lost in a whirlwind of confusion.

"What we're trying to put forth is a—umm, sort of a similar premise to Yunho's," Hongjoong initiates and Seonghwa adds to it, "we want you to be our precious little thing."

"We, as in all of us maybe," Yunho knocks his knuckles on the table to get Yeosang's attention, "Sangie, are you in or not?"

Yeosang looks up at him, nibbling on his lower lip as he nods, eyes quickly rummaging to check you out. "Sure."

"Basically, the ones who are sitting around here." Yunho continues, "we need someone who could help us out with our frustrations and oddly enough sexual desires. Only, that is, if you're comfortable being a part of it."

"I would need some time to think." You're beyond tempted to accept it, be their scarlet woman but you didn't want to come off as too eager to accept it.

"Take all the time you need, doll," Hongjoong assures you with a warming smile.

"After all, you're going to be our precious one."

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#ateez #ateez yunho #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #park seonghwa #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa smut #smut #park seonghwa x jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho x you #park seonghwa x you

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annepsilvaauthor · 2 years

Text

Fighter Weapons — Chapter 1

Pairing(s): Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC (Claire Mitchell) / Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Summary: An untold story. A series that shows what happened during the Top Gun of our beloved pilots of Top Gun: Maverick.

Warnings: Subtle sexual innuendos, brief language, alcohol consumption, angst, smut, fluffy.

Word Count: 4.321

Author note: I'm back, my loves, with the first chapter of this series!! ✈️❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 As you'll see, I focused more on Phoenix in this intro. But calm down! We'll have the others soon. In this fic, there will not be only one protagonist. I will try to analyze and show you some characters. I hope you like the way I'm making this fic. Let me what you're thinking, I love to know about it.

Prologue

ᴅᴏᴡɴᴛᴏᴡɴ ʟᴇᴍᴏᴏʀᴇ, ᴄᴀ

Phoenix and Storm paid their Uber and walked down the short sandy driveway to Jerry's Bar. Phoenix was wearing her scuffed dark boots, skinny jeans, and a beige silk shirt, the top four buttons of which were undone. Her ebony hair blew in the cool night breeze, touching the tanned skin of her face highlighted by simple makeup.

"OK. What can a bar in the middle of nowhere offer us?" Storm asked before they opened the double wooden door.

Phoenix watched her bite the inside of her mouth, a typical gesture when her best friend was anxious. Storm always left the programming up to Phoenix because first, she was so excited by the variety of choices that she was unable to decide, and second, Phoenix knew how to have a good time. Storm was fully confident that they wouldn't lose the night if Phoenix was in control.

Phoenix watched the blue-bottomed flowery dress sway on her pale legs and Storm hugged her body against the cold despite wearing a leather jacket over her shoulders. She smiled. Even the wind knew Storm's anxiety level.

"I heard that the best drinks in town are sold here. And... there are lots of games." she said enthusiastically with the last part.

"You and your addiction to competition." Storm rolled her green eyes. "I just hope we don't get kicked out of that bar too."

"That was an exaggeration of the manager."

"You monopolized the pool table all night, yelled at the losers and even made a scene when the manager wanted to close the bar."

"It was too early."

"It was five in the morning!"

"Okay, okay! I assume, I may have gone a bit overboard last time." She raised her thin arms in surrender. "What can I do? I love a challenge."

"I love it too, but that's not why I go around screaming at the manager's mother for wanting the fucking cue ball back."

"Wow, I was really drunk that day. I love old ladies, I would never yell at them when I'm sober." Phoenix confessed moving her lips, but turned her gaze to her friend. "And you're judging me for what? Don't you remember that day in Florida?"

"No, I have a mouse brain. I don't remember anything after five minutes." She turned her face towards the bushes.

"You disappeared for forty-five minutes and came back dressed as a clown."

"And? You know I like good characterization."

"You stripped the clown from the fucking children's party!"

"It was not my fault. He offered me tequila on the sly. You know how I get on tequila."

"Your brother will never invite us to Clarinha's parties again." Phoenix warned holding back a laugh.

"He doesn't know what he's missing. We don't go to parties. We are the party, baby!" she called out to nothing with open arms. "Now let's bring some fun to these California people!"

Phoenix let out a laugh like she always did when she was next to Storm. Since they met during the Naval Academy, they have been inseparable. Not that they were exactly the same, but their differences complemented each other. Storm was the gale in Phoenix's sense of order and she brought stillness to Storm's overcast clouds. They were perfect opposites.

They entered the Texan-decorated bar. There were several animal heads impaled on the walls, bearskins for rugs, wooden tables, chairs, and counters. Phoenix noted the pool table in the far right, the foosball table to the side, the dart board in the back, and the racks for beer pong to the left. In the center was the dance floor with a jukebox.

"A country bar." Storm considered for a while. " I loved it!"

"I knew it."

They walked through the still not so crowded environment and took a seat at the bar, ordering the famous Kenny's Cooler and Sangria Red. They had to admit, Texas had the best drinks in the country.

"A toast." Phoenix raised the glass forward and Storm did the same. "The Top Gun."

They drank. And soon more options came to the bill. That was their last night in Lemoore. They would spend five weeks in intense training at Miramar, and as daring as they were, they were professionals and took their mission seriously. They couldn't afford to overextend themselves during training. They were called to be the elite of pilots and nothing could spoil that. They had more than reason to celebrate.

After a few liters of alcohol in their blood, Phoenix noticed a vibration in her pocket. She pulled out her cell phone and found several missed calls and messages from a Ceasar. From the notification bar, she could find out what the message's content was. He was calling her for a second round. She also read the dozens of messages she had ignored all week. They all basically asked why she didn't answer, when they could see each other again and have a dream with her.

"You have that face." Storm emphasized when they prepared the beer-pong table.

"What a face?"

"The I-have-a-man-behind-me-and-I-don't-know-how-to-be-a-scrotum-for-him-to-stop-calling-me face."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow.

"Your brow furrows and your eyes roll back." the friend finally explained. "Is that the aquarium guy again?"

"He's a dolphin trainer... and yes, it's him. Thirty times." She dropped her cell phone on the table and huffed, messing with her hair. "Why don't men understand that you just want one night and nothing else? I don't want them to give me the satisfaction of why they didn't call sooner or leave a second date up in the air. I don't want to live in this drama. I just want to fuck and leave. Period."

Phoenix didn't have time for relationship drama. Literally. She worked for fifteen days in the middle of the sea and sky and the other fifteen days were for fun and thinking about everything but work. She couldn't stand the mess that was a relationship. Feelings just got in the way of her life.

She wanted one night. A moment of pleasure. Satisfy a need. Only that. But the men she met didn't understand that. They always wanted to repeat or call a formal meeting, ask what day she returned to earth or even visit her in surprise. That was the thing she least wanted. However, that was what always happened.

"You know, I envy you. You have all these guys chasing you who worry about returning the next day, send gifts and want a second, third, fourth time." Storm confessed slowly. "The guys I sleep with aren't man enough to say goodnight when I leave the house. They simply disappear."

"You should introduce me to one of those guys."

"Phoenix, I'm serious. I want a love and I only find terror." she whimpered clearly already affected by alcohol.

"I'm serious too. Do you know what we should do? Swap partners. Everyone would be happy."

"So as to. You don't want a guy like that." she approached Phoenix and played with the tip of her nose. "I know that deep down... deep down... almost digging a well... you want a love for life. You just haven't found the one that makes your legs go wobbly yet."

"You're wrong." Phoenix hugged her side. " I want the most scrotum man that can exist!"

She shouted her order so firmly and loudly that she drew curious and astonished looks from some of the customers around her. She had two shots in a row, not caring about the crowd.

"From today on, engrave that in your mouse brain... I, Phoenix... I'm only going to have sex with a guy when I'm sure he's the biggest asshole on earth..."

"Go fuck yourself with it." Storm pulled back enough to look at her friend. "You can't go a weekend without fucking."

"This is not true! I am a...highly...controlled and...adult woman."

"I doubt it. If you don't find this scumbag today, you're going to sleep with someone else."

Phoenix released her friend at once and fixed her with her dark, intense eyes. There was a different glow about them. And Storm knew very well what it meant.

"I feel a hint of challenge."

"Actually, a whole shell." Storm held up the hand not occupied by the drink. "If today, you have sex with someone... even if it's your fucking scrotum... you'll have to wash my clothes for a whole month."

"And when I win, what will you offer me?" Phoenix asked with a victorious smile.

"I'll pay your bar tab for a month."

"Prepare the card, my friend, because the bill will arrive."

They looked at each other defiantly for a few seconds and drank each other's drinks, sealing the deal. Storm was sure Phoenix would lose, even though she hated losing a challenge. It would be an interesting night.

The two friends finally started beer-pong and Phoenix got the upper hand. She celebrated with several shots of tequila, even though the game was the exact opposite. The two ended up in the center of the dance floor, doing their best steps as they embraced and seduced each other.

"Another Red Sangria?" Phoenix asked after three songs.

Storm just kept dancing, but nodded in agreement. Phoenix walked to the bar, leaning against the counter. She could see that the room was starting to fill up. Sipping a margarita, she watched as two men dressed in costume walked through the double doors.

The first wore pointed-toe boots, blue jeans, a red flannel shirt with the top two buttons undone, and a brown hat. His full chest ripped out the buttons and the blond hair could be seen from afar. Or maybe she'd been staring too long.

The second had dark skin like milk chocolate. He wore white flats, light wash jeans, a cow print shirt and a dark brown hat. He was slightly taller, but something about the first man stirred Phoenix's body so much that she had to sit down. Maybe it was the way he played with a toothpick in his thin mouth.

"Your drinks, miss." the bartender's voice brought her out of her reverie.

Phoenix watched them chat briefly among themselves and soon they separated, each looking for her prey. She got the drinks and went back to the dance floor. She danced as wildly as possible, really having fun with her best friend, who wasn't the best dancer but was still great company. Storm wasn't shy about ridicule.

After a while, they decided to stop dancing and invest in foosball. This allowed Phoenix to notice the man flirting with almost every woman in the bar, including those accompanied. He waited for his companions to leave and went upstairs. Phoenix was shaking his head and laughing internally. Men.

Due to her long observation, Phoenix became inattentive and Storm made the final point.

"Fuck!" she shouted really irritated, which caught the attention of more people, including the Texan. "Another!"

"You're crazy, Phoenix." Her friend laughed. "You know you'll never beat me at foosball."

"We'll see."

They went on to play two more games and Phoenix grew more and more irritated at not winning one. So she insisted they go to pool.

"Is there room for two more to play?" a serious voice sounded next to them. It was him.

"Of course." Storm nodded with a silly smile.

Phoenix just gave them a discreet look and handed over the clubs. They started to play, men against women. In the first match, they did well.

"And the women slaughter the Texans!" Phoenix teased by clapping a hand on Storm's hand in greeting.

"Again." the blonde demanded with an intense look, but displaying a superb smile.

"Someone does not know how to lose." Phoenix insulted again, already arranging the balls on the table.

"I was just warming up, baby. Now things are on fire." He was looking at her so firmly that she swallowed hard. Had the night gotten warmer by any chance?

"I'm not sure about that. I only see smoke."

"You know what they say... where there's smoke, there's fire."

"Wrong." it was her turn to smile. "Sometimes it's already turned off."

Phoenix noticed his smile falter for an instant, but the intense glow in the green orbs continued to grow. She came to understand what kind of man he was and knew very well how to irritate.

They started another game, and at every point, they had a shot. Phoenix couldn't help but notice that he drank it all without spilling a drop or grimacing. He looked immune. And that was the sexiest thing she'd ever thought possible.

She also noticed his gaze light up every time she leaned over the table, after all her shirt opened a huge gap. Phoenix caught him in the act several times and he didn't seem embarrassed, on the contrary, he looked at her more directly.

"And the Texans beat the girls!" he said imitating Phoenix's tone and pointed his fingers at her as if they were a weapon. He shot, blew and put it in his pocket.

Idiot, she thought.

"The last one." she insisted.

"Who doesn't know how to lose now huh?" he teased, adjusting his hat.

"When we win, we want the hats."

Phoenix noticed his smile fade completely and it took her by surprise. They were damn decoration hats. What was so important?

"No." he replied without humor.

"Okay, so you assume we've already won."

He assumed an expression of suppressed anger, his eyes burning and she couldn't tell if it was provocation or pure anger. Maybe both.

"Messed with what you shouldn't, girl." the brunette declared with a mocking half smile.

"Best of three." The blonde demanded strongly.

Phoenix grinned. Finally she had found someone as competitive as she was. They started another game and this time there was no stealth, both Phoenix and he looked at each other with flames in their eyes. He even went so far as to offer her a shot of it. Phoenix accepted and tried to imitate his attitude, drinking everything without spilling it, but the grimace at the end was inevitable. He let out a chuckle and walked away.

"And the girls win again!" Phoenix roared and Storm howled. "The hats."

They approached them and held out their hands. The blonde clenched his jaw and sighed heavily as he handed over the hat. Phoenix thanked her mockingly and tipped his hat over her glossy black mane. She noticed that the sparkle in his eyes lit up again, as well as the mischievous smile, and she couldn't help but bite her bottom lip.

He took a step forward, standing millimeters away from her and wrapped an arm around her waist. She swallowed hard and remained in place waiting for the touch. However, this never came because he just struggled to get the glass from behind her on the pool table. He raised the drink to his lips with a mocking smile. He had tricked her, played with her senses. Damn.

Phoenix got ready to retaliate when she heard Storm yell from behind her:

"NATTY! OUR SONG!"

Storm took Phoenix by the arm and dragged her to the dance floor, where they danced madly to the sound of Spice Girls' Wannabe.

"I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want

So tell me what you want, what you really, really want

I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna

I wanna really, really, really wanna zig-a-zig, ah"

"When we arrive in Miramar, I will prepare a basket with my clothes for you." Storm commented with a victorious smile.

"I didn't lose."

"But you will. You were practically eating each other with your eyes!"

"He's not my type."

"He's everyone's type." She crouched in the dance and went up. "Besides, he's undressing you just with his eyes. That counts."

"It doesn't count! I'm just having fun with him."

"Be careful! You can get burned."

To their surprise, the dark skinned guy joined them in the dance and practically kicked Phoenix out of Storm's side. He even danced well for a man with such long arms and legs. Phoenix watched the blonde leaning against the pool table still drinking his drink. He kept his eyes stuck on her and managed to balance that ridiculous toothpick between his teeth.

"If you wanna be my lover

You gotta get with my friends

Make it last forever

Friendship never ends

If you wanna be my lover

You have got to give

Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is"

She danced that stretch looking at him, who raised an eyebrow and threw another malicious smile. Phoenix danced strangely to where he was and tried to pull him to the dance floor, but he refused.

"A Texan who can't dance... this one is new." she insulted, leaning on the table also next to him.

"Not wanting and not knowing how to dance are two different things."

"Bullshit. You don't know how to dance." she said and resumed her abandoned drink there.

While she was drinking, she watched him approach, but a group of friends appeared in front of her and asked if they could play. They accepted and played along with them. Phoenix and the mysterious blonde, who made no effort to say his name, teamed up and beat the pairs of friends one by one. The friends left there devastated.

Phoenix noticed that the blonde stretched his hand on her back, sliding his fingers into the back pocket of her pants. She immediately felt a hot shiver and a hook between her legs with that.

"Wrong place, cowboy." She complained by removing his hand from there.

"You're right." He held both hands around her on the table, without touching her. "I should have put it further ahead."

She laughed in debauchery.

"Let's see if your aim is better in the darts than in the bar."

She let out that comment and walked away from him, walking to the dart board and being aware that he watched her walk. Five seconds later he was after her.

"Have you been watching me?" he asked with a convinced smile.

"I'm just saying that you chose the wrong target today. To insist."

Phoenix threw a dart, but it didn't hit the red dot in the center. The blonde threw three in a row and hit them all. He smiled arrogantly and Phoenix rolled her eyes. That was already starting to irritate.

"OK. You've already proven that you're good."

"Yes, I'm good. I'm too good to be true."

"Wow. What self-esteem." She joked. "But who's in your hat?"

She watched his expression fall gradually and smiled victoriously. So, she decided to end her fun with him there. She felt a little too involved with the situation and a little altered by alcohol. She could get burned.

However, her departure was prevented by a hand on hers. Her whole body reacted to it as if she were in the sky, flying. The adrenaline rushing through her veins. He put her in front of the target and a dart in her hand. He guided her hand with his up as he glued to the back of her body. She felt the firmness of that breastplate and thighs.

"Keep your body firm and your gaze fixed." He ordered with his lips glued to her ear and a finger under her chin. His breath was hot and alcoholic. Phoenix used all her strength not to sigh.

"Is this how you leave them jaw-dropping?"

"It's not my fault if my charm attracts them easily."

"Do you think you're attracting me?"

" Since the moment I entered this bar."

Phoenix didn't have much time to think about what he said, as he guided his movement and soon the dart was in the center of the target. She smiled for getting it right feeling the hot breath take all over her ear. He took that piece of skin for himself and held her tightly by the belly. Phoenix couldn't hold back a gasp.

"Are you feeling it?" he asked dropping kisses to her cheek.

"No... that has no effect on me." she said trying not to tremble.

He trailed kisses down her neck and nape, squeezing her belly with his huge hand. Phoenix felt her whole body burn. Her vision blurred with the desire and heat of that touch. He was good, very good.

She leaned into his chest as he deepened his kisses into her neck. It was impossible not to bite the lips to keep from moaning. That was going too far. She was burning up and it felt so good. But she couldn't go on. She wasn't going to lose the bet.

"No." She pulled away from him in a start.

"Why not?" he asked with livid eyes in desire and hoarse voice. How hot was that man!

"You're not...asshole enough." Phoenix looked for the wall to lean on.

"What?"

He approached her keeping a curious eye on her, but Phoenix held up a hand urging him to step away from her. He obeyed.

"I've slept with enough men to know that you don't understand a woman who just wants to have fun. You always want..."

"Call the next day, ask for a second round or a meeting." he added to her surprise. "What is the problem with women understanding that we only want one night?"

She considered those words for a moment. He understood her. In fact, he was the male gaze in that theory. He just wanted one night and nothing more. However, she had already dated men like that and in the end they did the same thing as the others.

"You're bluffing. I've heard that speech before." she emphasized almost becoming part of the wall.

"Once, I went out with a woman I met at a wedding on the ship. We fucked a lot for one night. The other day, I picked up her sister."

"Disgusting."

"Another time, I fucked a flight attendant and found her on another flight."

"Got you!" she pointed at him. "You got involved."

"No. I picked up her friend and she saw us in the bathroom." he smiled with pride. "I don't fuck twice with the same woman."

"If this is all true, you must be the most scrotum man that exists on this earth."

"Which puts me on your list."

He approached her again with slow steps, asking for silent permission that Phoenix said nothing. He was now inches from her. Phoenix watched the smug smile with the toothpick and the eyes half-dropped with alcohol and desire.

He was certainly what she was looking for and he still came with a prepotent beauty to make her angry. She felt the rage inside her that she was giving in to the charms of someone like him. But she felt even more angry for making that stupid bet.

"I can't."

"But you want." he said with the same arrogance as before.

"Your ego must be the size of Everest."

"I just know that you want the same as me."

"Perhaps. Maybe I just want to taste it." She stared at his thin lips. He laughed.

"The problem is…" He wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear. "If I kiss you, I'm not sure I'll be able to stop."

Phoenix felt a frenzy throughout her body accompanied by an unnatural heat. That man was getting her serious in every way. And she wondered if it really would be that bad to wash Storm's clothes for a month.

Suddenly, Phoenix realized something that left her mesmerized and frustrated at the same time. In the depths of those beautiful green eyes, which looked at her in lust, there was a gleam of tenderness. He wasn't everything he said he was.

"I am really sorry. You aren't the man I'm looking for."

She watched his expression turn back to one of confusion as she handed the hat back to him. Phoenix let out a weak smile and plucked that damn toothpick from him, putting it in her own mouth.

"And I really hate losing."

Phoenix started to walk away from him, aware that she was being watched and heard the deep voice again:

"Can I at least know your name?"

"That's a lot of information for just one night!" she replied, still on her back with a smile.

Phoenix managed to convince Storm to let go of the brunette and leave the bar with her. Once outside, her friend commented in surprise:

"You really did it. You're not going home with any guy"

"Of course I did." she replied with a sigh.

"Why aren't you throwing it in my face that I'm going to be indebted?"

"I chose a bad day to accept this bet."

"Ho, ho, ho..." She laughed mockingly. "I knew! He's your guy."

"Not exactly. He has kind eyes."

"If he's not your guy, then why are you so frustrated?"

"I don't know." she whimpered. "A part of me wanted to believe he was. At least I would have a valid reason to fuck him."

"I meant it. He's everybody's type."

"Whatever. It doesn't matter anymore. I will never see him again."

They called an Uber and went home satisfied with the night of fun before the training period. They had more things to focus on besides sexual contact. Phoenix would never see that blonde with the smug smile and tender eyes again. And, in a way, she was relieved because she felt he might be the first man to access a side of her that she'd never shown anyone. It was better for the two of them never to meet again.

What an irony of fate, after all.

#monica barbaro #hangman x phoenix #hannix drabble #glen powell #top gun phoenix #hangman top gun #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick

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