she/her @kick127 - Tumblr Blog

| pairing: bf!Choi San x idol!fem!reader x Song Mingi

| warnings: unprotected sex, threesome, oral (m receiving), pregnancy kink, (am I missing something? hope not.)

| (a/n): wohooooo first Ateez fic.🥳 I’ve been writing this since 5 p.m (it’s currently 1 a.m here) soooo, I haven’t proofread it yet.😖 Also, I know that the outfits are from different days, but not in my world hehe😈. Just look at that San, THAT SMILE!!! drooling on my pillow as we speak.

| wc: 5,3k

The heavy double doors of the practice room always seemed to lock out the rest of the world, creating a tiny, sacred sanctuary where the chaos of the idol industry couldn’t touch you. Being an idol meant living under a microscope—every movement analyzed, every smile performance-tested, every interaction scrutinized by thousands of cameras and millions of eyes. But in the quiet hours after midnight, when the polished floorboards reflected the soft glow of emergency lighting and the hum of the air conditioner was the only sound, you were just yourself. And Choi San was just San.

Your relationship with San had blossomed quietly, woven together from shared understanding, exhaustion, and mutual respect. As members of active K-pop groups, you both knew the brutal rhythm of comeback seasons, early morning hair and makeup calls, and the weight of constant public expectation. That shared reality made your bond indestructible. San was your anchor—gentle, deeply intuitive, and fierce in his protection of the people he cared about. When he looked at you, his eyes didn't demand a performance; they simply offered comfort.

From the very beginning, integrating into his world had been surprisingly effortless. ATEEZ wasn't just a group of colleagues; they were a family, and because San treasured you, they opened their arms to you without hesitation. Over the past year, you had built a genuine, warm friendship with each of them.

You remembered one evening in particular, during a rare overlap in your promotional schedules. Both of your groups had finished filming a special end-of-year music festival, left exhausted and starving after hours in stiff costumes under blazing stage lights. San had managed to convince their manager to let you join them at their dorm for late-night takeout, promising to keep it a secret.

That night remained in your memory as a chaotic, joyful blur. You had all piled into the living room floor surrounded by plastic containers of spicy rice cakes, fried chicken, and cooling sodas. Hongjoong had spent twenty minutes trying to maintain order while Wooyoung loudly debated the proper ratio of sauce for chicken dipping, eventually spilling his own sauce all over the coffee table. Seonghwa had immediately jumped up with a wet wipe, scolding Wooyoung like a tired parent while Yeosang quietly stole the last piece of pickled radish right from under Wooyoung’s nose.

You had laughed so hard your ribs ached, sitting cross-legged on the rug with San’s arm resting comfortably around your shoulders. Jongho had casually demonstrated his terrifying grip strength by snapping an apple in half with his bare hands just to make you smile, while Yunho tried to teach you a snippet of ATEEZ's latest point choreography right there in the narrow hallway between bedrooms.

They treated you like an insider, a trusted confidante, and someone who understood the unspoken rules of their world. San had watched you that night with a quiet, glowing pride, his dimples deepening every time you bantered back with his bandmates. You belonged there. You felt safe.

Or at least, almost entirely safe.

Because beneath the warm surface of those group hangouts and shared backstage laughs, an unsettling undercurrent had been slowly gathering strength. And it centered entirely on Song Mingi.

It wasn't something you could easily put into words without sounding paranoid, which was precisely why you had kept it to yourself. Mingi was naturally quiet in large settings—a towering, imposing figure on stage whose deep voice and sharp rap delivery commanded instant attention, but who often receded into a relaxed, laid-back persona off-camera. At first, you thought his distant demeanor around you was just his usual low-key personality.

But over time, you began to notice the pattern.

It started during combined practice sessions and backstage waiting rooms. Whenever you were in the same physical space as Mingi, an invisible static seemed to charge the air. It wasn't that he was rude; in fact, whenever you spoke directly to him, he was polite, dropping his head in a courteous nod and offering brief, low-toned answers.

It was what happened when he thought you weren't looking.

You would be sitting on a leather sofa, leaning against San's shoulder as you went over a lyric sheet together, and a sudden prickle at the back of your neck would force your eyes to wander. Invariably, you would catch Mingi’s reflection in the wall-to-wall mirrors. He would be slouched against a equipment trunk, an earbud dangling from one ear, but his dark, unblinking eyes would be fixed entirely on you.

It wasn't a casual glance. It was an intense, deliberate focus that made your skin flush with an uncomfortable warmth.

The weight of his gaze seemed to shift depending on what you were doing. When you were stretching before a run-through, wearing your fitted performance gear or crop tops that exposed your waist, you could feel his eyes tracking the movement of your body—lingering on the curve of your waist as you bent over, tracing the line of your collarbone when you wiped sweat from your neck, or fixing on your legs as you adjusted your knee pads.

Even when you wore oversized vintage hoodies and track pants on low-key days, the intensity didn't fade. His eyes would linger on your face, your lips as you spoke, or the way San's hand rested on the small of your back. It felt heavy, almost possessive, yet wrapped in absolute silence.

Whenever your eyes met his through a mirror or across a crowded room, Mingi never panicked or quickly looked away like someone who had been caught off guard. Instead, his dark eyes would hold yours for a long, agonizing second, his expression completely unreadable, before he would slowly tilt his head, pull his hood lower over his eyes, or turn his gaze toward his phone.

The subtle encounters began to pile up in your mind like dry kindling.

There was the time in the hallway outside the SBS Inkigayo studios. The corridor was narrow, bustling with stylists, managers, and camera crews hauling heavy equipment cases. You were stepping around a clothes rack when Mingi approached from the opposite direction. Instead of squeezing past on the wider side of the hallway, he walked straight down the center line.

As he passed you, his broad shoulder brushed against yours—a contact that felt far too slow and intentional for a crowded hallway. The heat of his body radiated through his thin jacket, and for a fraction of a second, his hand brushed against the side of your hip before he continued walking without a word, leaving you frozen against the wall with your heart hammering against your ribs.

And yet, every time you looked at San, the impulse to speak vanished.

San loved Mingi. They had bled, sweated, and pushed through years of grueling trainee days together. They shared a brotherly bond built on shared suffering and triumphant success. To San, Mingi was his loyal, goofy, ridiculously talented team member.

How could you possibly go to San and say, "I think Mingi looks at me differently"? Without concrete proof—without offensive words, explicit actions, or clear misconduct—it would sound like baseless drama. You knew how high-stress the idol life was; the last thing ATEEZ needed was internal mistrust seeded by an ambiguous feeling. If you mentioned it to San, it would instantly create a rift. San was fiercely protective; he would confront Mingi immediately, demands would be made, explanations demanded, and a friendship years in the making could shatter over what might be written off as a misunderstanding.

You forced yourself to swallow the discomfort. You learned to adapt. You made a mental note of where Mingi was standing in every room so you could position yourself on the opposite side. You made sure to keep your back to solid walls rather than mirrors whenever possible. When you laughed at Wooyoung’s jokes or leaned into San’s touch, you trained yourself to ignore the heavy, silent weight of those dark eyes watching you from the shadow of the corner.

You convinced yourself that as long as it remained unspoken, as long as it stayed confined to lingering glances and accidental brushes in tight hallways, you could handle it. You could protect San's happiness, preserve the harmony of the group, and keep your own career moving forward smoothly.

You didn't realize that silence doesn't extinguish a fire; it only lets the heat build until the air itself becomes combustible.

-

The glow of the television screen illuminates the quiet living room, casting long, flickering shadows against the walls. You lean back against the cushions of the sofa, your eyes fixed on the screen. Today ATEEZ is scheduled to showcase their performance of "Lemon Drop," and even though you’ve heard the track a thousand times, seeing them bring it to life on a music show stage always makes your heart race.

You grip your phone tightly in your hand, checking the digital clock in the corner of the screen. The broadcast is airing now, but you know the reality behind the magic. They had probably been at the KBS studio since seven in the morning, running through dry rehearsals, pre-recording the stage multiple times until every single formation was flawless, and then waiting around for the live broadcast to wrap up. They must be absolutely exhausted. Or, at least, that is what you assume until your phone vibrates in your palm.

A message from San pops up. You slide your thumb across the screen, a soft smile immediately tugging at your lips at the sight of his contact name.

A nervous, excited flutter trapped itself in your throat. The dorm to ourselves. No manager, no members, just a quiet, uninterrupted night with San to wash away the stress of the past few weeks. You tried to shake off the lingering thoughts of Mingi, putting down the remote and adjusting your oversized sweater, trying to cool down the sudden warmth humming beneath your skin.

On the TV screen, the MCs introduce the next act, and suddenly, the music starts.

You lean forward, completely captivated. The styling for this comeback is really nice even if they looked natural. San appears on screen, the camera catching the intense glare in his eyes that contrasts so sharply with the sweet boy who just texted you. He was wearing a fitted, off-cream vintage-style t-shirt that hugged the sharp contours of his chest and back perfectly, the short sleeves tightly framing his toned, muscular arms.

But as the camera pans out to capture the full formation, your eyes find themselves wandering.

Mingi centers the stage for his rap verse, and a sudden breath catches in your throat. He is dressed in a matching conceptual outfit—a crisp white dress shirt with the top buttons casually left undone, exposing a teasing glimpse of his collarbone and chest, paired with tight, faded denim jeans that accentuated his long legs and lean frame every time the stage lights caught him. The sheer charisma radiating from him through the screen is suffocating. He delivers his lines with that deep, raspy growl, smirk playing at the edge of his lips as he looks directly into the camera lens.

You swallow hard, a sudden, unfamiliar heat blooming low in your stomach. It isn’t unusual to admire the other members—they are your friends, and they are undeniably attractive—but watching the two of them dominate the stage side-by-side triggers something entirely different inside you tonight. The raw, masculine energy bleeding through the screen makes your pulse quicken. You find yourself tracking San’s sharp movements, and then immediately shifting your gaze to Mingi’s towering, powerful frame, your mind taking a sudden, dangerously illicit turn.

You shake your head quickly, trying to dismiss the thought. You love San. He is your boyfriend, your sweet, attentive partner. Feeling this intense, heavy wave of desire for his teammate—for both of them simultaneously—makes a flush of heat creep up your neck, a mix of arousal and immediate guilt.

Nearly forty minutes later, the distinct click of the digital lock echoed through the quiet hallway. You stood up from the couch, a welcoming smile already forming on your face as the heavy front door swung open.

"San-ah, welcome ba—"

The words died in your throat.

San stepped into the entryway, looking incredibly handsome, still fully dressed in his stage outfi. But he wasn't alone.

Stepping in right behind him, tall and imposing, was Mingi. As he closed the door behind him, his dark eyes instantly lifted, locking onto yours with that same familiar, unblinking intensity that always made your heart race.

A sudden spike of cognitive dissonance hit you. Your mind scrambled, caught between the sheer, breathtaking visual of both of them standing in the narrow hallway looking like a living fantasy, and a deep, swirling confusion. Why was Mingi here? Had the plans changed? The physical heat from earlier rushed back tenfold, making your pulse thud heavily in your ears as you looked from San’s bright smile to Mingi’s unreadable, heavy gaze.

"Hey," San murmured, his voice dropping into that sweet, honeyed tone he reserved only for you. He stepped forward, bypassing the usual polite distance, and wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you flush against his chest, warmth radiating from his body. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips that tasted faintly of lip balm and stage adrenaline. "I missed you. Did you watch the broadcast?"

"I... yeah, I watched it. You guys were amazing," you breathed out, your voice slightly breathless as you gently rested your hands on his chest. Your eyes involuntarily darted past his shoulder to where Mingi was casually leaning against the shoe cabinet, silently watching the two of you, his arms crossed over his chest, a faint, hooded look in his eyes. You swallowed hard, leaning closer to San to whisper, "San... what's going on? You said the dorm would be empty. Why is Mingi here? Is everything okay?"

San didn't look startled or apologetic. Instead, a soft, incredibly gentle smile spread across his face, his dimples deepening in a way that usually calmed your anxiety instantly. He stroked your lower back, his thumb tracing a soothing circle through the fabric of your sweater.

"Everything is perfect," San whispered back, his voice incredibly tender, yet holding a strange, grounded weight. He took your hand, leading you gently into the living room, while Mingi followed a few steps behind, his heavy boots thudding softly on the floorboards.

San guided you to sit on the edge of the sofa, and instead of sitting next to you, he dropped to his knees on the rug right in front of you, looking up with absolute devotion. Mingi remained standing a few feet away, his towering shadow falling over the space, his gaze entirely fixed on your face, tracking every micro-expression.

"Do you remember what I told you in my text?" San asked gently, taking both of your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing the backs of your knuckles. "I told you I had a surprise for you."

You blinked, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Babe, I don't understand..."

"I know you've been carrying a lot of stress lately," San began, his eyes locking onto yours with total sincerity. "And I also know you've been carrying something else. A secret. Something you thought you had to hide from me to protect me."

Your breath hitched. Your hands turned cold inside his warm grip. He knew. Did he know about the glances? Did he know about the hallway at Inkigayo? Fear vied with the confusion in your chest.

"I'm not blind, my love," San continued, his voice dropping to a low, soothing purr. "And I know Mingi better than anyone. I've noticed how he looks at you. I've noticed the way the air changes whenever you two are in the same room. And..." He paused, tilting his head slightly, his gaze searching yours. "I've noticed the way you look back at him sometimes. The way your breath changes when he's near."

You felt a flush of heat rise from your neck straight to your cheeks. You wanted to protest, to explain that you were just trying not to cause drama, but San gently squeezed your hands, cutting off your defense before you could speak.

"You don't have to be scared. You're not in trouble, and I'm not angry," San said softly, a beautiful, completely unbothered smile touching his lips. "Mingi is my brother. We don't keep secrets from each other. A few weeks ago, he finally came to me. He confessed that he finds you incredibly attractive. He told me how much he desires you, but because he respects me, and because he respects our relationship, he was willing to keep his distance forever if that's what I wanted."

You looked up, your eyes wide, wide-eyed as you glanced past San toward Mingi. Mingi took a slow step forward, finally breaking his silence. His deep voice resonated through the quiet room, stripped of its usual stage, sounding raw and completely honest.

"It's true," Mingi murmured, his dark eyes burning with a mixture of vulnerability and intense desire. "I tried to suppress it. But every time I see you, every time you're near San, it's... it's hard to look away. You're beautiful. But I would never, ever do anything to hurt San, or to make you feel unsafe. That's why I told him."

San looked back up at you, his fingers gently tangling with yours. "When he told me, I didn't feel jealous. Because I trust him, and I trust you. And honestly... the thought of sharing something so intimate, something so beautiful, with the two people I love most in this world... it excited me."

The room felt entirely devoid of oxygen. The confusion that had gripped you earlier began to melt, replaced by a dizzying, intoxicating realization. The physical arousal that had been building since you watched them on the television screen was now roaring to life. Looking at San, kneeling so sweetly before you, and Mingi, standing just behind him like a dark, waiting shadow made your head spin.

"Mingi is the surprise," San murmured as he tried to wink, his voice a velvety temptation as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your knee. "He wants to be with us tonight. Physically. Intimately. And I want that too. We talked about it, we're both entirely on the same page, and we're both completely willing. But it all depends on you."

San reached up, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb wiping away the shock from your expression. His eyes were entirely devoid of pressure, offering you total control over the situation.

"We want to know what you think," San asked, his voice a soft, breathless plea. "Would you like to do this? Would you like to have both of us tonight?"

His thumb continues its gentle, soothing stroke against your cheek, his eyes bright and warm as he waits for your answer. Behind him, Mingi stands comfortably, leaning back slightly with his broad shoulders, his white shirt half-unbuttoned and a relaxed, quiet anticipation written across his features.

The initial surprise melts away, but before you jump in, a natural question springs to mind. You look down at San—at his easy, affectionate smile—and pull back just enough to check in with him.

"Baby..." you say, a soft chuckle cutting through the quiet. "Are you actually sure about this? Be totally real with me. Is this really something you want, or are you just being the 'ultimate supportive best friend' to Mingi?"

San laughs softly, a light, genuine sound that instantly takes any remaining weight out of the room. He leans up, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to the palm of your hand before looking back at you with a playful sparkle in his eyes.

"I am a hundred percent sure," San says, his tone totally relaxed and confident. "I wouldn't have brought him through that door if I wasn't. Seeing the two of you together, knowing how attractive he finds you and knowing you've been secretly sneaking glances at him too... it's hot. I'm completely on board."

Behind him, Mingi cracks a subtle, handsome grin, shaking his head slightly at San's openness as the last bit of his own quiet reserve vanishes.

You look between the two of them—your boyfriend smiling up at you from the floor and Mingi looking down at you with that magnetic, confident charm—and a grin breaks across your face.

"Alright," you say, as you blushed "I want it too".

San lets out a soft, triumphant laugh, standing up in one fluid motion and pulling you off the couch and straight into his arms. He cups your face gently, pressing a lively, deeply affectionate kiss to your lips that instantly melts away any remaining hesitation. His mouth moves against yours with a sweet, familiar rhythm, making your heart race as his hands slide down to rest warmly against your waist.

When he finally pulls back just an inch, his dark eyes are sparkling with a mixture of playful mischief and absolute devotion. His dimples deepen as he smiles down at you, leaning in to press one last tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Now..." San murmurs softly, his voice dropping into a low, teasing tone against your ear. "Be a good girl, and go over to Mingi."

A thrill runs down your spine at his words. San gives your waist a gentle, encouraging pat, stepping back just enough to hand you over with total confidence.

You turn toward Mingi, who hasn't taken his eyes off you for a single second. Standing taller than both of you, leaning back with effortless confidence, he watches you approach. The quiet reserve from earlier is completely gone, replaced by a dark, magnetic intensity.

As soon as you close the small distance between you, Mingi doesn't wait. His long arm reaches out, his large hand wrapping securely around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. The contrast is instant and intoxicating—where San’s energy is bright, fluid, and sweet, Mingi’s presence is pure, unyielding gravity.

"Finally," Mingi murmurs, a low, rumbling growl deep in his chest.

He bends down, his dark eyes locking onto yours for one breathless second before his mouth claims yours. The kiss is deep, heavy, and completely uncompromising, his thumb resting firmly against your jawline to hold you steady while he takes his time with you. It’s a grounded, intense declaration of every lingering glance and unspoken desire from the past few months.

Behind you, San watches with a pleased, easy smile, stepping in close to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and pressing soft, warm kisses to your neck while Mingi holds you hooked in the kiss.

"Did you like the surprise baby?" San whispers playfully against your skin, making you shiver. "Thought you would like it."

You pulled away from Mingi's lips to answer. "Yes."

You didn't hesitate for a second before kissing him again. Part of you even felt as though it was a tiny act of infidelity, because who in their right mind wants to kiss their boyfriend's best friend that badly?

"Good. Now stop kissing him and tell him how wet and turned on you get every time you look at him."

Your cheeks flushed even deeper, if that was even possible.

"That's embarrassing."

San let out a soft chuckle. "Not my problem. That's your problem, for being such a slut and getting turned on by my best friend."

You knew he didn't mean it in a degrading way, and somehow that only turned you on even more.

"Mingi, I ate her pussy once while she was watching one of your fancams. I thought she was just watching at you innocently, but when I pulled down her pants and took off her underwear, I realized how wet she was."

You watched as Mingi's—who hadn't taken his eyes off you for a single second—gaze darkened.

"Is that true?"

Suddenly, you were a loss for words, feeling completely exposed. Your boyfriend had just revealed something deeply intimate about you in front of the very person involved. You wished a black hole would open beneath your feet and swallow you whole.

When Mingi realized you weren't answering, he added, "Please answer. I'm about to burst."

A little embarrassed, you gave a small nod.

"I wish you'd been there. It didn't even take her two minutes to cum," San said with a smile.

That was enough for Mingi to grab you by the legs, lifting you into the air while he kissed you as he made his way toward the bedroom, with your boyfriend following behind.

When his legs touched the bed, he gently set you down on the mattress.

He took a step back and paused to look at you. "You've hit the jackpot. Your girlfriend is the prettiest and hottest woman in the world."

San looked at you with a proud smile. "She is. For today I'll let you be the first one to make her cum. Treat her well."

Your boyfriend placed a kiss on your forehead before walking over to the armchair beside the bed and sitting down.

As he moved to his new spot, he gave you a clear view of the mirror across from the bed. You looked like a dog in heat—your eyes seemed to beg for someone to fuck you in this instant, your hair was messy, and your cheeks were flushed.

And there he was, standing with his back to the mirror, simply watching you as he wondered where to begin with you.

"Would you kiss me? Please," you pleaded, pouting slightly.

That was the moment he lost all self-control, thowing himself over you to kiss you with force.

He was nothing like San. Sure, there were times when your boyfriend got a little rough in bed, but he had always been gentle with you, unlike his best friend.

You deepened the kiss, your hand gently caressing the back of his neck before slowly sliding up into his hair, tangling your fingers in it and giving it a gentle tug, winning a moan from Mingi.

"Do you want me to fuck you now?" he said while unzipping his jean.

"Yes, please," you pleaded.

As soon as he got rid of all his clothes, he pulled your hoodie over your head.

"You have no panties, what a slut." He then slapped your cheek, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your face turn to the right, leaving you face-to-face with your boyfriend.

But at that moment, you couldn't have been more grateful to Mingi, because the view was breathtaking. San jerking off at the sight of you being used by his friend as he bites his lip.

That made you feel an almost unreal level of desire.

Mingi must saw how wet you were cause he interrupt your thoughts to say: "Wow, so you like the idea of your boyfriend watching as his best friend insert his dick inside your pussy."

No more than a second passed before you felt how his dick made its way deep into your pussy. You couldn’t tell the difference between him and your boyfriend because they were almost the same size and thickness. Your eyes widened, as did your mouth, and you let out a loud moan that you were worried that your neighbors would complain about it.

You turned to face Mingi, but he cupped your cheeks in his hand and turned your face back toward San.

“Look at him, you should thank him for making this happen. Say it.”

“Thanks for this.”

Mingi shook his head from side to side as he increased his speed. 'Nuh-uh, tell him ‘thanks for letting your friend fuck me like a doll’ now say it”

“Baby” yo called. San raised his eyebrows and gestured for you to speak.“Thanks for letting your friend fuck me like a doll. Oh god.” Your vision began to blur, and for a moment, you lost all sense of time and space.

“Mingi, keep going, she is about to cum.”

“Awww doll, are you going to cum all over my cock? Is that right? Does he know you that well? Does my cock feel that good that you are about to cum? or is it because it’s me?. Answer”

“You feel soooo goo-oh my god!” and that was it, you cum as your eyes rolled back.

Mingi slowed down, giving you time to recover. “ We're not done yet. On all fours.” demanded while getting out of you and circled around to positioned himself in front of you.

You glanced over your shoulder at San, positioning himself behind you, while Mingi inserted his dick in your mouth.

“Baby, you did so good. I’m proud of you, you are taking me so well, Just like you did with him. Be good one last time and suck his dick”

By that time you mouth was already opened for Mingi, wanting to suck him dry and feel his cum going down your throat.

“Your mouth feels amazing princess, how lucky is San to have you, to have this beautiful girl who suck his dick or shove himself inside you. I’m so jealous” Mingi said while holding your head with both hands and pulled you toward his pelvis.

“Baby, are you ready for me to fill you up? then it’s Mingi's time, you’ll have both our babies in your warm pussy. You’ll get filled up twice. Would you like that?”

You had to stop sucking Mingi’s cock for a second to answer. “Yes, gosh, I would love that. Please cum inside of me.”

San didn’t need another word, his cum spilling in your cunt as he let out a loud moan. “Are you close? It’s your turn now.” He says to Mingi.

“Move.” He commanded. Then he proceded to shove his dick in where seconds ago San’s cock was. “Pretty girl, are you enjoying yourself? you have two mans going crazy over you. I’ll fill you up so good, that when you get pregnant you won’t even know who’s baby is it.”

The simple thought of that took you over the edge again, but you were trying to wait for the perfect moment.

“Awwww, my baby is going to cum again. Baby, can you hold it for a second? Mingi is almost there.” San said as he gently patted your head.

You kept nodding, focusing on waiting for Mingi to tell you when you could

“Are you ready? let’s do it at the same time.” Mingi let out a breath. “Now, let go.”

You didn’t know how to explain it, but that moment felt magical. You had two men who cared about you by your side while you cum. You could feel the exact moment when Mingi's cum mixed with San's.

And if we’re being realistic, you were no saint, you loved the sensation of having two different cums inside, with the doubt of not knowing whose it would be if you ended up pregnant.

While Mingi went to get a towel to clean the three of you, you stayed in bed talking with San.

“Are you ok baby? Was it too much?” San asked you with loving eyes as you gave him a thumbs up.

“No, it was perfect. Thank you.” You smiled at him fondly. “Are you okay, though? Do you regret it?”

“No! My darling, I would do anything for you. I know how long you’ve wanted this, and that’s why we’re here. This won’t change anything. But I'm not gonna lie, i’m a little jealous that you came at the same time as him. But I know I can do it every single day, he is our guest of honor, I'll let him have that.” he chuckled.

Once everyone was clean, you decided it was time to go to sleep. As you drifted off, you couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last time you were with Mingi. Would he want to do it again? But more importantly, would San want to?

-

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